“I’ll check it out,” Kenji said.

We’d just finished watching a small tree branch I’d lit up using Light affinity get carried by the stream into the hole in the wall, following its glow as it illuminated the tunnel beyond for a few seconds until the rapid flow do water carried it out of sight.

“Are you sure?” I said. “It could be dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“It’ll be dark.”

“My enhanced senses let me see in the dark,” he said.

“Oh. Cool.”

“Do they let you breathe underwater?” Morgan asked. We gaped at her. “What? It’s a fair question.”

“How much rope do you have?” Kenji said.

“Got you coverered, man,” I said, and pulled several coils of long, thin rope from my inventory.

God I loved that inventory.

Not knowing how far he might have to go, we tied all the coils together then attached one end around Kenji’s waist and fixed the other end to a tree close to the hole. I had a horrible vision of Kenji getting carried away in a current and pulling the rope out of our hands. Kenji shed all unnecessary items and shrank his sword down to a small knife that wouldn’t get in the way, then started crawling into the hole. It was a very tight squeeze and I was not looking forward to doing it myself if it came to that, but agile little Kenji managed to wriggle his way in like a spooked ferret. He disappeared into the darkness and the rope followed him in, an inch at a time for a little bit, then it started reeling out much quicker.

“He must’ve found somewhere he could move more freely,” Morgan said.

“Let’s hope so,” I said.

Morgan and I had some time alone while we sat beside the rope, watching it uncoil as Kenji moved further away. Sigrid busied herself practicing her flying, soaring around for a while, coming back to scarf down some food to replenish her mana, then taking off into the air again. She got quite good at landings after a while. And it was a good thing that in addition to a lot of gear, I’d also packed a veritable pantry full of food into my inventory; Sigrid never stayed on the ground for long, but when she was down she didn’t stop biting, chewing, swallowing, repeating.

"That was something else with the rats, by the way," Morgan said out of nowhere while we were watching Sigrid loop-de-loop. I could tell by her tone it was not meant as a compliment.

"I've always wanted to try it," I said.

"That's disturbing."

"Yeah, I know. I've been thinking about it ever since. I mean, it was something I used to do in D&D. It started as a joke. It's just that there's no actual blood and squealing on tabletop, so..."

She said nothing.

"I used to think of them as level zero thieves."

She barked out a sudden laugh. Just one syllable. An honest to goodness "Ha!"

I couldn't help laughing at that. Then she started to laugh too, a full-on belly laugh.

"It was truly horrific," she gasped.

"I know," I managed to reply. Our laughter subsided.

"Never do it again, 'kay?" she said, wiping away a tear.

"Nope," I said. "Never again."

Sigrid landed and asked what we were laughing about. I told her. She paused eating long enough to look up at me. "I don't get either of you," she said. "But whatever. As long as you won't do it again. It was fucking horrible." Then she took off into the air, holding a bulbous green fruit with the texture of a peach but that tasted exactly like red licorice in each hand. The locals called it, for some inexplicable yet situationally apprioriate reason, a zephyrfruit.

A short while later, Morgan poked at the sand with her toes. “You know who would've got a kick out of the rats? Arthur. He's such a child. I was the one who got him into gaming, did you know that?”

“That is surprising,” I said. “He seems way more into it than you.”

“Oh he is, but he’s like that. He doesn't do anything half-assed."

"An all-in kind of guy, huh?"

"It’s just good he got obsessed with video games and not heroin or something.”

“One must choose one’s addictions carefully,” I said.

Both our eyes darted down to the rope, which had stopped moving, then started again, then stopped, then started. The pace of its uncoiling often sped up or slowed down, but this was a significant shift in its movement pattern. Kenji must've reached an interesting juncture. I'd have given anything to know what was happening to him.

“Don’t get me wrong," she said. "I enjoy gaming. Mostly I do it to be part of the team, though.”

“They’re good people,” I said.

“I know, right? Anyway, I was the one who got us started playing Counterstrike for fun as a group. We did that for ages before Arthur had the idea of going pro.” Morgan laughed. “It sounds so weird. Going pro. I mean, it’s just a game.”

“But so are football and baseball and all that, those are just games and nobody questions that they’re pro players.”

“Exactly! Anyway, we mostly compete in FPSes but we’re also pretty good at LOL as well.” I knew she did not mean ‘laugh out loud’ but ‘League of Legends’ instead, another very popular eSports game but a completely different style of play than first person shooters — FPSes — like Counterstrike. Both required an exceptional amount of teamwork, coordination, and skill to be successful at them, though.

“Do you do anything else?” I said. It was my polite way of asking what her backup plan was. Esports players tend to lose their edge and retire early, wrist injuries being very common. If you’ve used a computer mouse for any length of time you’ll understand why. Imagine doing that non-stop for hours and hours every day, which is the kind of training it takes to be competitive. From what I could tell (and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask) Morgan was about my age, maybe a smidge older, and it was uncommon to find a professional eSports player still active past their mid-twenties.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“You mean do I have a real job? Yeah, I’m a bartender.”

“How does that work with your training and competition schedule?”

“It’s not a problem. I schedule my own hours. Plus the rest of my team all work at the pub or cafe too.”

“Convenient. How do you swing that?”

“Easy. We own the bar.”

“Very convenient,” I said.

"Yeah well, my family's loaded." She said it matter-of-factly. Not bragging, but also showing none of the guilt that the privileged often carry.

Sigrid swooped down and hovered near us. “Should we be worried that Kenji’s taking so long?” she said.

I shook my head. “As long as the rope keeps unspooling, I think we’re fine.”

“Cool.”

Sigrid shot off again, and Morgan looked thoughtful as we both watched the rope continue slithering into the hole after Kenji.

“If I’m being honest,” Morgan said, “I don’t technically have to work. I could sponge off my folks for life if I wanted to, but that’s not much of a life, is it?”

“If you say so,” I said. “But as someone whose family is the exact opposite of loaded...would that be empty? Is my family empty? Anyway, my point is I’m not rich, and the thought of being able to sponge off someone sounds pretty good to me.”

“Oh sure, it’s great. For a few years, anyway. Spend your teens at a cushy private school, go to whatever university you want by buying your way in if you have to — I didn’t have to, by the way, I got excellent grades — then coast for a bit after that, playing games with your friends and drinking and smoking weed and doing nothing much of anything.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Just that. Doing nothing. Building nothing. Contributing nothing. It’s a pretty selfish, hollow way to live, and not great for one’s self-esteem.”

“Oh, I know all about low self-esteem,” I said without thinking, then immediately regretted it.

Morgan considered me for a moment, then said gently, “I can tell.” There was a moment of awkward silence which Morgan broke. “Long story short, Arthur and I wanted to do something else with our lives besides game so we decided to open a bar-slash-brew pub-slash-internet cafe. His ideas. Couldn't decide on one thing so I said screw it let's just do all three. Mom was just happy to see us wanted to do something, anything, and basically handed us a blank cheque. We bought a building, built the bar and brewery on the bottom floor, turned the second floor into the internet cafe, and on the top floor we have our apartment and gaming studio.”

“I get the internet cafe, but why a brew pub?”

“Arthur. He loves beer and likes to call himself a brewmaster, although he has zero patience and I’m the one with the degree in chemistry so I end up doing most of the actual brewing work. He just tastes it, mostly. And gives it away to pretty girls he wants to impress.”

“Chemistry, huh?”

“That surprise you?” she said.

“Not really. It explains the chemistry skill and why you were given the powers of an alchemist here.”

“I know, right? I have always loved playing with beakers and stuff. Always wanted to be a mad scientist.”

“Let me know if you need an Igor. I’m good at simpering and taking direction.”

She laughed. “It’ll depend on how you do during the practical interview.”

We sat in silence for a bit. The rope had done another one of those stop-start things, and it took a little bit of time before it finally started moving again, and we could start breathing again.

“I don’t think Arthur likes me very much,” I said.

“Why would you say that?” Morgan said, sounding genuinely shocked.

“I dunno. He just doesn’t, well, seem that interested in me.”

“If I had to hazard a guess, you’re misreading things. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, I know for a fact he does. The thing is, well...you’re a guy.”

“So?”

“So, how do I say this politely? My brother’s a slut.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “I’d hate to hear what you’d say if you were being rude.”

She laughed too. “Look, I love Arthur, but not as much as he loves women. All women.”

“I see.”

“So if it looks like he’s ignoring you or whatever, that’s only because you chose to surround yourself with cute chicks. He kind of loses all interest in anything or anyone else. The sad part is...”

“What?”

“Never mind. Doesn’t matter.”

I thought about it for a minute. Everything is a game.

“He likes to win, doesn’t he?”

“Oh my god yes.”

“I think I get it. Women are like a game to him. A game of conquest.”

“You know, that’s it exactly. A game of conquest. Yeah.”

“So what happens after he wins a girl’s heart?”

Morgan sighed. “Thank you, next.”

“And that’s the sad part, right?”

“Yeah.”

We sat in silence for a bit, each lost in our own thoughts.

“It wasn’t what you thought,” she said out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“Lancelot. Seeing me naked.”

To be honest, ever since it happened I had thought several times about the brief exchange they'd had when she’d been helping him out of his armor. I was actually quite curious about the exact nature of their relationship, but there was no way I was going to bring it up. I never would’ve expected her to bring it up herself, though. Why would she do that?

“Enlighten me: what was it you thought I thought?” I said.

“That there’s something between him and me. I mean, yeah, there was, once. Briefly. But we’re just friends now.”

“I’m glad.”

She smiled at me. “You are?”

“Well, sure. It would suck if you had to be teammates with someone you weren’t friends with.”

“Ah.” The smile vanished as quickly as it had come. “Well, I just wanted to clear that up. In case you thought otherwise.”

“It’s not really any of my business either way,” I said.

“Oh.” For some reason she seemed disappointed with that answer. I couldn’t possibly tell her that I had another reason to be glad they were just friends. If she had seen Lance naked, did that mean he'd seen her too? She said they'd dated, so probably. I felt my eyes begin to linger on Morgan, but I nipped that in the bud. She was undeniably sexy, but no good could come from that indisious train of thought.

In a desperate desire to change the subject I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “So you said you have an apartment above the bar. You live there alone?"

“No, not alone," she said.

"Ah," I said. I knew there was an obvious follow up question, the question I actually wanted to ask, but I couldn't bring myself to ask it. Fortunately, Morgan answered it for me anyway.

"I do have a roommate. It's Arthur."

“Really? That’s good,” I said.

“It is?” she said, a sly smile forming on the corners of her lips. “Why is that good?”

“I dunno. It’s good that you and your brother get along that well?”

“Is that a question?”

“Um, no?”

She turned to face me directly, the sly smile blooming into a wry one. "Is there any other question you'd like to ask me maybe?"

"Uh..."

She gave me a look that I had grown used to seeing on Jane’s face, right before she usually said something to tease me.

I never did find out what Morgan was going to say, though, because at that moment Kenji's rope stopped reeling out. We waited for it to start again. And we waited some more.

I grabbed the rope beside me and gave it an exploratory tug. It offered no resistance. I pulled a bit harder. It came freely.

“Uh oh,” I said.

I stood up and took the rope in both hands, yanking it. It pulled so easily I almost fell over backwards.

“Where’s Kenji?” Morgan said.

“Not at the other end of this rope,” I said.