FVR

Chapter Fourteen.

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The steel of the chains warmed slightly as the rising sun peaked over the mountains, then disappeared again behind the tall houses that lined a cobblestone path as Joel stepped off from the final step.

The chains rang with the same tune as the church bell he would hear from his room. Each subsequent ring sent him back to his bed - where he was unbound by chains, but bound by pain. The chains snapped his arms forwards as his foot caught the tether; he shook his head and looked up. He found himself back in a familiar, yet, unfamiliar road as his captured mind broke free from the repetitive ringing of steel on steel.

It was the same street he had ran through during the war, but the houses which stood around him were now spaced apart with the occasional garden blooming various flowers he had never seen before.

One woman, with a blue name, paused as they walked by, the water she was pouring suspended in the air, then crashed suddenly to the ground; her angry gaze lingered on the feet of the prisoners as they stained the ground with their blemished steps. An air of pensive hostility arose from other nearby folk as the prisoners were corralled deeper into the village-like grotto of the city.

"Hey," Joel whispered, "hey," Joel tried to call out to a prisoner walking ahead, but before he could utter another word, the guard turned sharply. She didn't say anything, but Joel could feel her eyes on him. He lowered his head and continued to stay in line, then sighed slightly, following obediently while they walked through a quiet lane.

Shit... I need some answers, his determination was keeping him alert, but it offered no solutions to his problem. The other prisoner's all avoided eye contact, keeping their heads down and not making a noise. Joel looked around and caught the back of the head of the man who tried to speak up in the chamber, his wobbly footing and bleeding head were a clear reminder of what it meant to speak out.

As the armored woman corralled them deeper into the city, the houses became more densely packed together. More and more it looked like a town he might have seen back home, as intricate tapestries of art and design unfurled around him.

With each turn, the city morphed again, and again, a few more turns through the wide archways and open streets and they found themselves in a marketplace. The cobblestone floors became worn and smooth underfoot, layered with thin mud that gave his shoes grip. The air was alive with the hum of conversation and the scent of exotic spices and rich aromas, but the shops fell silent in their wake, and crowds parted as they passed, averting their eyes and closing their mouths in a silent protest.

I'm not like them, Joel wanted to say, I'm not like them! The frustration of being judged by others sparked an emotion embedded deeply into his core. He wanted to call out to them, or for someone to step in and ask why he was there. But he knew they wouldn't. Their eyes were too much like the ones he had seen before: full of pity, but not an ounce of desire to help.

He still held out some hope in the game, but that hope carried a plague of thoughts that needed him to trust in something other than himself. It'll be fine, he assured himself, I'll make sure it'll be fine. Anything to avoid returning to that pain...

As they continued, Joel couldn't help but notice how many people were using magic, either to move something with wind, lift something with the earth, or heat something with fire. And almost all of them had blue above their heads. From such a distance, Joel couldn't read their names because they were so small, but he could see a thin blue line and wondered what the colors indicated.

He walked passed dozens or hundreds of people who were all able to control an element that existed around them, much more than they could when he was with Lor. Back then, he recalled, it was a wonder to see one or two people use basic magic... Now, everybody seems capable of the same level.

Joel wondered what color Lor's name would have been considering she had no magic, and wondered what color his own was.

He slowly opened his character page, and confirmed that his name had no color, but that his level was blue. All that did was raise more questions. Does name vary depending on status, level, magic, power, or what? The skill said it revealed small details about a person, so he assumed the more significant stuff must wait until he had a higher proficiency.

Joel sighed, closed his character page, then continued to observe the people around him.

He compared the magic in the streets to the ones in the castle. There were odd differences in their stances and how they used their hands, but they mostly looked the same. The ones in the castle, however, seemed to use the fire as part of their body, ready to release it while moving or talking, whereas the people in the street seemed hyper focused, each one had to stop what they were doing to gawk at the line of prisoners walking through their lives. Then, there was the way they controlled the elements, which seemed less like a spell and more like the ability to control what was already there.

Joel looked on in wonder and regretted his choice of class.

I'm going to be the only idiot without magic, he thought, wondering if magic had become so integral to life that he may have inadvertently made himself a lepper. I wonder if it's just practice?

He thought back to his skills and how he gained a new skill by repeating the same movement with his sword. Careful to conceal his actions from the view of the guard, he opened his hand, stretched his palm, and attempted to move the wind again, this time without a voice command and just his thoughts. But nothing happened.

Still locked, huh? He hoped.

The alternative explanation was that he had chosen the wrong class altogether.

***

The city spread out as they walked through a gateway and into a more bustling part of the city. Guards with orange names were placed on either side of the gate; they moved away anxiously, shifting their eyes as the prisoners walked passed.

On the other side of the gate, the houses changed in size and color, all spread tightly to one another with no room for a garden and hardly any room to walk through. Different sects? Joel wondered, adding to his list of questions.

With the smaller houses cluttering the streets, the early sun was able to shine down on Joel as he walked. Its warmth was a welcome sensation to his worried skin.

The cacophony of the city now rumbled the ground, and reverberated off the walls. Despite being from a city himself, it was unlike anything Joel had seen before. Every corner of his vision had something new to offer - a new feast for his eyes and nose. New clothing, new styles of housing, new magics, and new shops with trinkets and rocks he had never seen before. New foods, new flowers, and new colors of fires that seemed to dance like lightning in a bottle. It was overwhelming, and he didn't know where to look.

He recalled his walk through the city with Lor, and how much had changed since.

Joel noticed that as they continued further the people around them became less and less bothered by their presence and more concerned about their daily lives. The names changed in color too, to greens, with few very blues. More often than not, he'd see an elderly person with a green name missing a limb, or a younger person wrapped in bandages.

As the tension from the crowds gradually receded and the noise of the city erupted, Joel took the risk to grab the attention of another prisoner.

"Hey," Joel said quietly, tugging on his chains slightly, trying to silently grab the attention of the prisoner in front of him. The prisoner yanked back, pulling Joel forwards sharply, and hissed.

A man behind Joel chuckled slightly. "He will not reply," he said with the calls of merchants selling their wares, "he is scared of you - I think." His speech was peppered with sharp consonants, its cadence rolled with every syllable, his words flowing as if he were stringing together one long word.

Joel turned to face him. The man had dark skin, with long disheveled and unwashed hair, and a muddied face half covered with a scraggly beard. His clothes, stained with mud and dirt, were likely once yellow and white. His piercing eyes, however, were deep and blue, and had an alertness to them. Joel felt pulled to them. Above the man's head was a green name, Joel focused his vision and could see it said Ali, but his stare made the man look away.

Shit, got to be careful with that.

With the ambiance of the city, Joel had hardly heard what Ali had said, but noticed that every time he had spoken, he had waited for a noise to disguise his words. It annoyed Joel at first, before he realized why. He looked up to the guard, waited for the playful cries of nearby children, then replied quietly.

"Why?" He asked, tilting his head behind him slightly. A few moments passed and Joel wondered if he had spoken too quietly.

"Foreigner." Ali said with a subtle whisper, disguised by the slamming of doors.

Foreigner? How can they all tell I'm not from here? The skin color of the people around him varied massively, so it wasn't that. His clothing was fairly clean, but not out of place despite the cuirass, which many others wore. It grated on him while he waited for a noise to reply, but the man continued to speak:

"Foreigners invite difference. Difference invites conflict. Conflict ignites wars. Wars end all." It took nearly a minute to say those few words, but it conveyed just how much this city was worried about outsiders.

"He's scared I'll bring the end of the world?" Joel asked.

"His world, perhaps. No one man has the power to destroy the world," Ali replied matter-of-factly.

Joel still wondered though. If it wasn't a color difference, what was it that identified him as a foreigner... He waited to reply, but as they left the denser parts of the city, they lost the cover of noise with it.

***

The city was far vaster than Joel remembered it to be. What had taken a few minutes to run through before, now took over an hour to walk. The winding streets and crowds didn't make it any easier either, so it was hard to judge, but it certainly had looked and felt several times larger than before.

Eventually, the group arrived at an aged and uncared for barracks. The guard dropped the chains to the ground, then walked out of sight.

Joel's brow furled, he looked to the other prisoners, waiting for them to run - but none did. "What's going on!?" He whispered. But they kept the heads down and mouths shut. Joel looked back to the man behind him, who gave a sharp, wide-eyed shake of his head, before looking back down. Of course, they all had green names, which likely meant they were weak. They'd never stand a chance against that...

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The sound of hoofs clopped against the stone floor, turning Joel's head back to the barracks. A moment later, the guard returned, her name as red as the crimson hue he could see in the distance, Aurora. She's been the only one, other than the king, with a red name... She came back with a single carriage, drawn by two horses. It was large enough for a dozen people, enclosed with a sheet, and had more scars on it than any vehicle Joel had ever seen.

"You, up," she said bluntly, pointing at the man at the head of Joel's line. She spoke once, then looked away, as if expecting full cooperation. Her voice resonated with the authority of someone who was accustomed to command, with an unplaceable accent that had a rhythm and slowness that felt calm.

Without hesitation, every prisoner in Joel's line climbed onto the carriage one by one, along with Joel who was among the last to reluctantly climb up, leaving the back of the carriage open.

"Wait," a female voice yelled. Two female soldiers, clad in armor and both with blue names, emerged from the barracks in a slow run.

"Kyrstil?" One asked, tapping the side of the carriage. Aurora nodded to the front of the carriage. The two soldiers shared a look, then joined her on the front seat.

Aurora then turned back to the remaining prisoners and uttered a single word, "wait," before snapping the reins to urge the horses forward.

One of the other soldiers looked back, somewhat confused. "Is that allowed?" She asked.

"It's fine," Aurora replied, not elaborating.

The carriage was surprisingly smooth as it rolled down the street and out of the city bounds. The spokes on the wheels made a creaking noise every few rotations, and shook occasionally with the odd bump or dip, but it was overall a smooth ride.

Joel looked up to the city walls as they passed through its final gate - less than half the size of the one he had seen not too long ago. Seeing it all clearly for the first time as the carriage continued further through the open fields gave him the chance to see just how large it was from the ground.

The castles were ancient and weathered, nestled deeply into the rugged mountainside just as he remembered; their highest towers still followed the edge of the mountain range out of sight.

The city, however, was so much larger than before - dwarfing the city he had initially seen. It sprawled out across the mountain range in both directions and out into the fields in a maze of streets and alleyways. It made his heart skip as he realized its sheer scale, and the fantastical wonder of it all.

I guess such a thing is possible over so much time. He paused, and wondered how it had lasted so long, before something tapped at his foot.

"Psst," he looked up to see the same man from before, "you are very clean for a prisoner," he said quietly, his words still flowing together.

"Well, it wasn't my choice." Joel expected a laugh, but the man simply nodded. "I'm Joel," he said, holding out a hand. He knew the man's name, but without introducing himself it felt like a small invasion of privacy.

Ali gave an inquisitive look to Joel's outstretched hand. Seeing nothing, he nodded and looked away.

Joel quietly turned off his HUD. "I'm not from around here," Joel continued, lowering his hand. His eyes occasionally looked to the front of the carriage. Between the horses, the wheels, and the women talking, he felt his volume was quiet enough to go unnoticed.

"Yes. I see that." Ali said.

Joel leaned in and cocked his head, "seriously, how do you know I'm not from here?"

"Seriously?" Ali echoed, "you truly do not talk like a man from Durnovia." He clicked his tongue and shook his head, tearing up a piece of wood from the edge of his seat. He sighed softly, then brushed his long hair behind his ears, showing a small, thumb-sized scar on his forehead, then pointed to Joel's open fringe. "You are unmarked."

Unmarked? As in, I don't have a burn on my forehead? He briefly recalled a few faces from the castle. "Many people don't, why does that make me a foreigner?" He asked.

Ali continued to shake his head, "to be unmarked either means one is blessed, or one is foreign. Considering you are here, with me," he gestured to his cuffs, "I would guess your mana flame does not burn brightly. So. Foreigner."

"Blessed? Mana flame!?" Joel leaned in closer. He was finally getting some answers, and the anticipation was controlling his body.

Ali shook his head and clicked his tongue several times. He threw the piece of wood to the ground and leaned back, crossing his arm. "My my my, you are like a child. Ask ask ask."

Shit! Joel had no way of knowing how to act normal in this world, or what information he should naturally know. Yet, he needed to know and his best chance was sat opposite him, being increasingly miffed at Joel's incompetence. He probably thinks I'm an idiot, or playing him for a fool. Shit. Come on Joel, what lines of dialogue would these games usually have!?

"Please," Joel begged, "I truly do not know what I did wrong, or what this mana flame is, or even where we're going..." he gestured to the front of the carriage, "I don't know what to expect... please," he clasped his hands together, "please. Help me."

It was an unreasonable request to ask a man, who was essentially a slave, to help another man for nothing in return. Yet, there was a deepness in Ali's eyes that continued to pull at Joel; a curiosity for all things around him - and Joel was something brand new.

After a momentary pause, Ali replied. "First, you tell me who you are," his curiosity in Joel made him open, but skeptical.

It was the same kind of question Roland had asked: who are you to the former captain to be sat in his room during his absence... Joel looked to the floor of the carriage, reflecting on Roland's question and what he should have said. He noticed a few small holes that opened up to the dusty road beneath, which rushed by as the carriage moved swiftly from the city. The two soldiers continued to talk, their voices muffled by the creaking of the wheels and the general noise outside of the carriage. Joel continued to reflect, not knowing how to answer without breaking the fourth wall - which he felt would definitely not increase favor.

He took a deep breath, then said the first thing that came to mind. "My name is Joel. I've lived in Pin Ella's Pass my whole life. I came to... Dur Novia, to learn about the world. I want to be strong, strong enough to not need anybody. But..." he paused, clasping his hands tightly together as he considered his next words. "I... I can't go home, and I'm too weak to stay... I need help."

Ali's eyes were unblinking, unfazed by Joel's emotion, or his words. He seemed to juggle between answering and ignoring, shifting his head from side to side before sighing. He looked up to two other prisoners, and shared a look, then spoke quietly.

"You truly do not know of mana?" Ali asked.

Joel nearly laughed, "I mean, I know of it. But I do not know of the flame or how it is used," he said honestly.

"Hmm. There were some truths there. I think. And this is basic information, so it is worth a basic introduction..." Ali leaned in and held out his hands flat. "Mana. Is life," he ran a finger from the tip of one hand up his arm to his heart, "it runs from here, to here. Then down." He ran his finger down to the ground, then flung his arm back to the city. "And out, into the world." With his arm still outstretched, he pointed at the castles, "they have a large flame. Lots, and lots of mana." He gestured to the other prisoners, himself and Joel included, "we, have small flames. Little, little mana."

This much was all very basic information to Joel, it was reminiscent of so many games and stories that he had played or read. What he needed to know was how it all tied in with the world.

Ali continued, using his hands to convey some of his words, "when born, we have mana. As a newborn, we are presented to the steps of the three houses. A fire is placed on our heads. If we burn, we are unblessed," he paused, then rephrased himself, "if we burn, we have small flames. If we do not burn, we have large flames. All in the kingdom undergo this."

It's a test to determine their natural magical power. But it's too simple... "What if people become stronger with age?" Joel asked, to which Ali immediately shook his head.

"Mana is determined from birth," he said firmly.

It's genetic? Joel reflected on his skill points and how he was able to increase his mana artificially. Players go against this natural rule of the world? Shit... Joel immediately understood how dangerous this could be for him. If others saw his flame increase in size then he would either be revered, or persecuted. Either way, it wasn't worth the risk this early on, and he had just learned how everyone knew he was a foreigner: the people in the castle could see my flame. So... I was arrested because I had low mana and was somewhere I wasn't allowed to be. And now...

"Now where are we going?" Joel asked.

Ali seemed taken aback by Joel's bluntness, and chuckled slightly. "To Hel's Breach," he said, with a resigned look in his eyes.

Joel raised his shoulders slightly with confusion, not knowing what the place was. He kept picturing some kind of giant hole in the ground leading to hell, but it seemed way too early in the game for something so chaotic.

Ali shook his head and blinked away the dampness in his eyes, then continued. "It is a scar on the planet. A Touched Land. Filled with mana that whispers, and corrupts. Monsters crawl from its sands and the people of Kyrstil are tasked with holding them back."

Touched Lands? Joel recalled Lor calling the golden hue that. The hue that appeared during the war, which turned into a crimson red over time - is a land with strong mana - and we're going there to fight monsters until our debt is paid?

Joel pondered if this was the main part of the game, or if there was something he had missed. He had been under the assumption that he was still in the tutorial, which was why he hadn't met any other players. Again, he found himself with another question about the game, but it was a question only a player would know the answer to.

Joel leaned back against the hard wooden seat deep in thought, and looked out at the city which had rapidly receded in the last few minutes.

The carriage ride continued to go smoothly, with the occasional bump. The fresh air and clear day would have been a lovely experience under different circumstances. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp valley air, then peered his head out slightly, and looked ahead - behind where Ali was sitting - and followed the city as it hugged the base of the mountainside far into the distance.

From where he was, Joel could just about make out the other side of the valley; the contours of the mountains ran parallel to the city for miles and miles, plumes of grey and black smoke billowed out from structures in the distance which rose into the blue sky and dispersed into the valley ahead. He mused on the city's centuries long existence, and chalked much of it up to the natural defenses of the surrounding valley. Then leaned back again, and looked over to Ali, who continued to quizzically stare at Joel.

"How dangerous is it?" Joel asked. A few other prisoners lifted their heads at the question, and looked over to Ali.

"Dangerous enough that they need us." Ali smiled, then closed his eyes.

***

After Ali fell asleep, Joel tried to grab the attention of the other prisoners, but they continued to ignore him. The carriage travelled down a well-maintained road through open fields, rarely turning, for hours. The landscape spread out endlessly, blocked only by the mountains in the valley or the drop of the horizon.

He kept his eye on the wave timer as the hours ticked by, and the sun rose to its highest point in the sky. With thirteen hours left until the next wave, new sounds started to echo around him. Sounds of commands, clashing metal, horses, and loud booms that came with no explosion.

Ali's eyes opened, and he tapped Joel's foot again. "Say nothing unless spoken to," he ruffled up his hair and placed it back over his face, masking his forehead and his eyes.

Joel's heart raced again. He knew now that he was heading someone dangerous, but he still didn't know what to expect beyond fighting monsters. At least I don't have to do it alone, it was a comforting thought, considering the last wave he had seen. He tried to get a better look outside, attempting to paint a picture of where he was.

Voices yelled as the carriage came to a stop.

The guard - Aurora - spoke a single word and a metallic creak echoed through the air, followed by a series of clinks and rattles. Slowly, the carriage started to move again, pushing through the shadowy embrace of a large gate which Joel looked at through the open back of the carriage. It was several meters thick and riddled with soldiers with green, blue, and orange names.

Voices clamored outside with an urgency and commanding authority as the carriage continued deeper. The surrounding area hummed with activity as the ground shook, vibrating through his chest. Various smells assaulted his senses; at first there was a pervasive scent of wood smoke, mixed with the earthy aroma of damp stone and wet mud, but the further the carriage went, the more he could smell the sharp tang of sweat and leather, and a stench of horse manure.

After a few moments, Joel caught sight of the towering entrance they had passed through; it stood higher than any he had seen before: three houses tall and two wide. He felt a sense of awe and apprehension as the gate closed, sealing him inside.

The carriage came to a stop and the two soldiers jumped off, thanking Aurora before leaving.

Aurora stepped down and walked around the carriage. "Off," she said.

Ali climbed down first and Joel followed. As he landed on the muddied ground that squelched beneath his feet, he looked up to Aurora, their eyeline level for a passing moment, and caught a golden hue in her eyes through her visor.

"Line up," she said, gesturing over to a wall.

Joel looked around and found himself in an enormous fortress - not necessarily in scale, but its height was domineering.

Aurora dropped the reigns to the ground, then walked away as two men approached, one a full foot shorter than the other, but both clad in muddied armor bearing the insignia of swirling gusts twisting around a silver blade. Neither man wore a helm and both had orange above their heads. Joel averted his eyes despite wanting to see their names, waiting for the game to give a sense of direction.

"Where is she going?" The smaller man asked, looking at Aurora as she disappeared from view. He spoke crisply, similar to those in the castle, but with a softer tone.

"Leave her," the taller man replied, his voice also crisp, but more graveled and worn. He looked at the prisoners and did a double take when he saw Joel. "This one has a cuirass... and is unmarked." Joel's heart stopped and he averted his eyes.

"Ah, a foreigner?" The smaller man questioned.

"Arresting rich foreigners, the fuck is he thinking..." The taller man sighed deeply, then carried on. When he spoke again, he did so with a practiced ease, each word flowing effortlessly from his lips. "This is Kyrstil, home of House Tempest. You have been trialed and found guilty under Durnovian law. You shall remain here and be trained in the way of the blade and in the way of mana. When the time comes, you will be sent through the pass to defend the breach. If you forfeit your training, you will forfeit your lives. So, prepare yourselves, for the winds of change blow fierce."