I borrow a broadsword from a willing donor and run along the wall until my path reaches the back of the keep. At this point, just as in-game, there is a stone walkway leading to the tower itself.

I enter the door with ease.

I cross the hall to a set of winding steps that I know lead to the top of the tower and to the king’s personal chambers. If the sorceress wants to kill the king that’s where she’ll go. I also hear the screams of soldiers and know that I don’t have much time.

I charge onto the staircase, taking two steps at a time. The stone feels old and cracked beneath my feet, and I recall that this castle is the oldest in all Astria. Old but strong as the NPCs would say in-game. The royal family used it as a fortress, resting high atop a mountain pass overlooking the fields beyond, like the ultimate guardian of the human realm.

Unfortunately, this guardian is about to fall.

I reach the royal hall. Banners adorn the walls and bodies adorn the floor. Human bodies. Seared, burned, or cut with powerful magic.

The guards didn’t stand a chance.

Picking my way through the bloodied space I reach the double doors at the end. They are cracked open just a smidge. And I hear voices.

“I’ve wasted enough time with you, Leo,” the sorceress’s voice is harsh and commanding, like a general’s in battle. “I should have done this long ago. We should have done this long ago.”

I put my eye to the slit between the doors and see the two figures clearly.

Purple blood vessels pulse under the sorceress’s skin and black ribbons swirl around her staff. She stands stiff with her legs spread beneath her magnificent dress that curves around a toned waist and legs. Everything about her exudes power and intimidation.

The king in contrast is wrinkled, old and slouched, but he does not cower before the sorceress’s threats. Indeed, he sits upon his throne like it was carved just for him.

Hell, maybe it was for all I know.

The sorceress steps forward, raising her staff above her head. Her voice is suddenly deep, and masculine. “Death comes for you at last, my king.”

“Death will come for us all, Lillian.” The king replies calmly.

The sorceress smirks. A portal forms in the ceiling. It’s a dark circle that reveals another world beyond: a world of fire and torment and death with creatures of a hundred eyes, and long, grasping tendrils, like a demonic jellyfish of some sort. The tendrils drift through the portal and curl around the arms and waist of King Leo.

The sorceress laughs. It’s a cracked, broken noise that is more frightening than any scream or roar I’ve ever heard. I wilt back and almost run from the scene myself, but then the king looks at the door with his deep, blue eyes and they are like an ocean of calm amongst the sorceress’s madness.

It’s like he knows I’m here. Somehow.

The sorceress follows his gaze and scoffs. “Look around you, Leo. There’s no one hero to save you. Only the corpses of the men you caused to die.”

The tentacles begin to lift the king into the portal, and I take a deep breath.

It’s now or never.

I burst into the room. The sorceress is slow to react as I dash toward her. I slash at her head, aiming to relieve her neck from its burden, but as I do she spins, and my blade meets her staff instead of her flesh.

The sword slices the onyx stone and for an instant time stops: I with my blade, the sorceress with her staff. Our eyes lock and as I look into her inflamed pupils I sense a combustion of anger, fear, and pain that is so strong it nearly causes me to drop my weapon.

The onyx explodes.

In a shower of sparks and shards the stone releases out a shockwave that sends me sprawling across the room. The world goes black to me and silence reigns.

----------------------------------------

There is a swirl in my eyes – a many colored tunnel spinning like a child’s kaleidoscope – and I know I am back in a portal. Just like the one I came in on.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

If I was epileptic I’d have a seizure.

Instead I gaze in awe at the endless stream of colors sparkling in the tunnel. So magnificent, so beautiful, so….disorienting.

Then I fall with a thud upon solid ground and groan in agony. My body still aches from the shockwave and the onyx shards still scream in my skin.

Am I going to die?

I tear off my shirt sleeves to wrap the wounds as best I can. All around me is….nothing. Just whiteness, like a piece of paper stretched in every direction toward an ever-receding horizon. It’s a feeling stranger than fighting a dragon or dumping in the girls bathroom.

Then I see the inn. It’s a lone building waiting among the nothingness, a waypoint for weary souls.

Or those who are injured hopefully.

I stumble toward it as fast as I can. The wooden structure is like the ones I encountered in-game in Astria. It has a metal doorknob though, same as my bedroom on earth, which makes no sense at all. Opening the door I see a room divided – half like medieval Astria, and half like present day Earth. It’s the most incongruous experience I’ve ever had, like seeing a supercomputer atop a bail of straw

What the hell?

Straddling the two rooms, right down the middle, is a tin man; that is, a man made wholly of metal. Except it’s not some sort of sci-fi C-3PO. This mechanical man looks primitive and hollow, more like a children’s toy from a steampunk convention. It even has a…wind-up?

I circle around the back to get a closer look at the plastic spigot. There is a handle as well that I can easily grasp. It wobbles in my palm.

I pause. What will happen if I do? I release my hands and look down at my wounds. What will happen if I don’t? I grasp the handle again.

It’s stiff at first, then smooth, as I crank three, four, five times. The tin man starts with a noise. I step back. It’s clicketing and clacketing, like a thousand little gears are turning inside.

Hell, maybe they are.

Carefully, I circle back to the front. The tin face bears a blank expression. Metal eyelids blink over metal pupils that both seem more decorative than useful. The mouth is much the same as it opens and closes in a routine fashion that seems to have nothing to do with actually breathing or speaking. It’s like someone copied standard human facial features but didn't really need them for anything.

“Hello,” I try.

*State your class*

The voice isn’t in my ears. It’s in my head. Like the tin man is telepathic or something.

“Who are you?” I ask.

*I am your system.*

“My system? What does that mean?”

*I will track your progress.*

“My progress?”

*Yes, Angel told me to wait for you. For me to be your system.*

“Who’s Angel?”

His mouth continues to flap pointlessly. *She is a messenger.*

Can he be any more vague?

“Well, I don’t need a messenger. I need a doctor. Can you help me with that?”

*You are outside time here. Earth time and Astrian time. You will not die. But to be healed you must go back.*

“Ok, and how do I do that?”

*State your class. Warrior. Cleric. Paladin. Ranger. Thief.”

Of course. Just like in-game. I’m starting my character sheet.

“Ok, Warrior then.”

I’ve always been a fan of swords.

*Excellent. Now you may begin.*

“Begin? Begin what?”

*Your quest to defeat the sorceress and save Astria.*

I raise an eyebrow. “Ugh. And how am I supposed to do that exactly?”

*You must speak with the messenger*

“Angel you mean? Where can I find her?”

*She will find you*

More helpful advice.

“Ok, so what should I do until then??”

*Try not to die.*

I squint at the tin man, trying to decipher if that comment was sarcastic or not. But he just whirs and sputters per usual.

“O.K.” I manage.

*You may start whenever you are ready*

I laugh. “Oh really, is it that easy to return to Astria? Can I just knock my boots together three times and repeat ‘there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home’?”

*Pull the lever,* the tin man responds, obviously missing the Wizard of Oz reference.

The tin man raises its arm and points to the far wall. There, just as he said, is a lever: half wooden, half iron, it awaits my decision.

I walk to it, take a deep breath, and then pull down with all my might. This time there is no cranking, no mechanical grinding, just a soft clicking noise and then silence.

I look back to Tinny (yes, I’ve already named it in my mind). “Was that it?”

The tin man swivels its head to me. *Look outside.*

I exit the inn and immediately see what the system meant. A fresh portal swirls before me: an opening so large I can see through it and back to the room I left. Like I’ve just loaded a saved game on my PC at home.

Guess Tinny was right.

I jump in.