Chapter 54 “Hey, you. You're finally awake.”

"Hey, you. You're finally awake.” The blue eyed man came to, bound and gagged in the back of a horse drawn cart. “You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."

He looked around, trying to get his bearings. Azure blue sky above a lush green forest.

"Damn you Stormcloa—” The man stopped talking as the uniformed soldier brought the cart to a juddering halt.

“You there!” The soldier called to a hooded figure blocking the cobblestone path. “Imperial business, stand aside.” The hooded figure didn’t move. “You hear me? Move or be moved.” Still the figure did not move. “This ends now.” The soldier hopped down, unsheathing his steel sword.

An unnatural wind began to pick up, centred around the mysterious figure. “Wuld,” The hooded figure uttered a strange incantation. Suddenly the air cracked like thunder. “Nah Kest!” The hooded cloak lay on the ground. It’s owner, a red haired huntress, stood ten feet from it. The soldier dead at her feet.

She freed the blue eyed man, leaving an iron dagger for the others.

“Well, what do you think?” Rosie asked as they strolled by a clear blue river.

“It’s amazing.” John had his doubts at first, but the virtual reality simulation felt incredible. He could feel the wind, hear it rustling the leaves of tall trees. Fish leapt through falling water. Butterflies landed on vibrant wildflowers. Even his rags and footwraps itched.

“Wait, why am I dressed like this and you’re wearing…” John trailed off, staring at Rosie. Black streaks across her face, long red hair. Armour made from steel and fur.

“I might have something you can wear.” Rosie reached into her small knapsack, producing a steel greatsword far larger than the knapsack itself. Books, fistfuls of gems, potions. A large ornate scroll. All came out of the tiny bag. “Here we are.” Rosie dumped an iron chestplate on the grass. Boots, helmet and gauntlets to match.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got a carbine in there too?” John asked as he got into the armour, looking like the barbarian from a comic.

“Better.” Rosie opened an old book. She read for a moment before it evaporated in a flash of flame. She began to move her hands, mimicking the arcane symbols. Wisps of fire danced around her fingers. Building and coalescing into a ball of orange flame. With a flick of her wrist, she cast a pair of fireballs over the water. They hit the same tree, instantly engulfing it.

They followed the stream till it reached a lake. Shimmering blue and lapping pleasingly at the shore. “I think this is my favourite spot.” Rosie picked up a pebble, sending it skipping across the lake. “Do you think there’s anywhere left like this?” She had a sadness in her voice.

“Maybe. High up somewhere.” John tried skipping a stone, only for it to splash into the water. “The ocean is still out there, I’d like to see that.” He struggled to imagine so much water.

“I’d like that too.” Rosie smiled, and they set off.

“Shouldn’t we be getting back, we’ve been here hours.” John asked.

“We’ve been under twenty minutes. Time works differently here.” Rosie seemed troubled by that somehow. “I want to walk through a little more, check my patches.”

“I’m in no rush.” John had an idea. “Aren’t there any princesses to rescue or something?”

“You want to rescue a princess?” Rosie teased. “I had to pull a lot of stuff to get it stable, but I think there’s a tavern nearby.”

“What’s a tavern?”

Rosie led him through the woods and down a cobblestone road. They entered a hamlet. Wooden buildings with thatched roofs. Pens holding long haired goats. A blacksmith working his forge.

“Shor’s bones, a handsome man in…” The woman went quiet as Rosie glared at her. Inside the long wooden building, music and the smell of meat and mead filled the air.

“I’m looking for work.” Rosie pounded her fist on the bar, getting the barkeep’s attention.

“Jarl’s men posted a bounty. Bandits in a cave north of here.” He passed Rosie a note on thick, off white paper.

“Perfect.” She took the note and turned to leave.

“Hang on,” John pulled her close. “Can we eat and drink here?”

“Two bottles of Honningbrew mead.” Rosie ordered. She held both bottles, pale frost creeping from her fingers to the brown glass. John copied Rosie, biting the cork and spitting it to the ground. It tasted like strong wine with a hint of sweetness.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“It’s not bad.” John would have preferred whiskey. Rosie sipped hers, a grin on her face.

“This mead tastes like a skeever shit in it.” She hurled the bottle against the wall, stopping the gentle music with the sound of smashing. The barkeep became enraged, lunging for Rosie. John grabbed the man and dragged him over his own bar. John felt a chair break over his back. He turned and deflected a punch, sending his attacker into the nearest table.

Fists flew, glass smashed, chairs and tables reduced to kindling. Rosie hopped on the bar and finished John’s mead.

John found himself the last man standing when the guards stormed in, swords drawn. “I’m with the Guild.” She tossed a pouch onto a still standing table, gemstones spilling out. “So’s he.” John followed her out, glaring at the shaking guards.

“Did you enjoy that?” John asked, nursing a bloody nose.

“You didn’t?” Rosie replied, grinning. “You just got to have a bar fight. No one got killed, or arrested, or even so much as got their feelings hurt.”

“Alright yeah, it was fun.” John had to admit he enjoyed it. “Although my nose hurts.”

“Drink this.” She handed him a small red bottle. It tasted bitter, but the pain vanished. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

Rosie nocked an arrow, padding silently towards the mine entrance. A bandit, clad in iron armour, stood watch. The black arrow zipped through the trees, striking the unaware bandit behind the ear.

He felt the cold as he entered the mine. Silver veins glinted in the flickering light from burning torches.

“Quiet!” Rosie hissed. She moved like a shadow, John clanked along in his armour. She stopped at a corner, peeking round. “Three on the left, two on the right.”

“I’ll take the left.” John’s patience for sneaking had worn thin. He strode down the tunnel, and drew his two handed sword.

“Never should have come here!” The grubby looking bandit charged, threats as dull as his axe. John blocked the first attack, countering with a bash from the pommel. Arrows zipped past him, finding the two on the right.

The last pair of bandits took turns lashing out. John swung the heavy blade in reply, cracking shields and bone. He saw an opening as a blow glanced off his shoulder. He stepped back, using the space to drive the sword forward. The blade went in the front of the bandit’s torso and out the back.

The dead weight pulled the sword from his grasp, leaving him open. “Time to end this little game.” The final bandit went for him with a clumsy swipe. John closed the gap, getting past the blade. He grabbed the bandit, slamming his head into the stone wall.

“Never should...” The first bandit got to his feet, spitting blood and broken teeth. “Have com—” An arrow whooshed past John’s ear, killing the bandit.

“I’m bored, let’s go.” Rosie had changed into blue leather armour, covered in pockets and with a deep hood.

“Isn’t there like a chest filled with gold or something?” John felt he'd earned a reward.

“They’re bandits hiding in a mine, do you really think they have a chest of gold?” Rosie went to head out, but stopped and picked something up. “Here you are, it’s gold.” She put something in his hand. It took him a minute to work out what the small gold shape was. A gold tooth. John dropped it.

“So now what?” John asked as they walked by the lake.

“Now we have a reason to see the jarl.” Rosie held up a note. “Where I can blackmail him with the orders he gave the bandits.”

A biting chill crept in on the wind as the light seemed to dim. John stopped, trying to place what had changed. Then he saw it. A shadow, large enough to block the sun. He put a hand on Rosie’s shoulder as he looked up.

Gliding on pale wings of skin and bone. Scales shifting from purple to blue. A horned head and spiked tail.

“What the fuck is that?!” John felt a very real fear.

“A dragon.” Rosie took a deep breath, and loosed an arrow. It broke like a twig against the thick hide, gaining the beast’s attention. “Move!” She darted for the trees. John didn’t move. He stood awe struck by the great and terrifying creature, banking in the air towards him. He saw the crystal bright eyes glimmer, bearing down on him.

“Move!” Rosie yanked at his armour, getting him to run. The dragon roared, breathing not fire but ice. The forest around them froze in an instant, the ground streaked with blue. With a blast of air from a beat of its wings, the dragon shattered the frozen forest around them. Shards of ice and wood fell like daggers. They weaved and span, ducked and dodged, outrunning the deadly hail.

“I don’t see it.” John scanned the sky, confused as to how something that massive seemingly vanished.

“Down!” Rosie pushed him aside, moments before a sharp tail scored the ground between them. Rosie let rip a flurry of black arrows, punching holes in the wing. The beast roared and flapped, tearing the skin further. It shrieked in pain, slamming into the ground as it tried to land.

“We do this together.” John readied his greatsword, swinging it to gauge his reach. Rosie drew a matching pair of swords with thin, curved blades. She muttered a strange language under her breath, wreathing her swords in orange flame.

Down but far from out, the dragon stomped towards them. Wings folded, its serpentine neck extended. John charged. The dragon snapped its jaws at him, giving Rosie space. She slashed at the neck, drawing blood. The mighty jaws snapped at Rosie. John drove his sword at the exposed underbelly. The blade bit into flesh, he forced it further back, opening a deep wound. He felt the cold blood spill over him, and it gave him an idea.

“Switch!” John yelled, swinging the sword wildly as he moved. Rosie stuck her swords deep into the scaly neck, using them to pull herself up and over. She plunged her fists into the wound and summoned the ethereal flames. The dragon roared, fire spewing from its mouth and eyes.

The scaly hide began to burn away, morphing into dancing ribbons of light. John found the light enveloped him, empowering him. It soon vanished, leaving nothing but bones.

“Good. Now we can get started.” Rosie seemed to shrug off the encounter as routine. She started to walk towards the skeleton, but stopped. “Solid copy, inbound.” A look of disappointment flashed across her face. “We have to go, Brandon needs us.”

John woke on the bedroom floor, sunk in the squishy blue mat. “Don’t rush.” Rosie pulled off his headset and helped him up.