I felt hands hoist me under my shoulders and pull. I felt them pry my fingers off Jane’s arm. I felt the cool wetness of water on my lips, over my tongue, down my throat. I heard concerned muttering. I tasted something sweet, chewed it, swallowed it.
“More,” I croaked. I ate more. As I bit, chewed, and swallowed, again and again, mechanically, like a robot, I felt energy flow back into my strange new Player’s body, this body capable of producing fire and ice and spears of concentrated air. Then it all flooded back.
The void.
“Jane!” I blurted.
“Shhhhh, it’s okay,” came Sigrid’s soothing voice. “Jane’s fine.” I felt her warm hand stroke the hair off my clammy forehead.
“I’m fine, doofus,” Jane groaned from somewhere nearby.
“Good,” I sighed.
Sigrid fed me some more.
“Jane?” I said.
“Yes?”
“If you ever use that Captivating Presence power to coerce me into doing something idiotic like this again I will kill you in your sleep.”
There was a pause, then Jane said, “That’s fair.” There was another pause. “Daniel? How did you do that? Back there. How come you were able to hurt it but I couldn’t?”
“Simple,” I said. “Because I’m better than you.”
She laughed, and it wasn’t until I heard that high, musical laugh of hers that I finally accepted that we really were okay. We’d made it back. Most importantly, Jane was fine.
That was too close. We almost lost our hero.
Sigrid was kind enough to resist asking us anything about what had happened yet, though I’m certain she was dying to, but instead she focused on helping us to recover first. She looked at my leg and grunted.
“You’re both dummies,” Sigrid said with a fierce scowl.
I looked down and saw a series of round holes burned through my pants. I peeled the pant leg up to expose an identical series of circular red welts on my leg. They still burned.
“How could you be so stupid?” she mumbled as she reached into my pack and pulled out the healing potion.
“No!” I said as she went to uncork it.
“Why not? Isn’t this what you bought it for?”
“Well yes, but it’s our only one. It should be saved for times of life or death.”
Jane peered at my leg. “I dunno, that looks pretty nasty.”
“It’s not so bad. It doesn’t even hurt.”
She quirked an eyebrow then jabbed at one of the red sucker marks with her finger.
“Ow!” I screamed as pain shot through me.
“Yeah, right. Doesn’t hurt my ass.”
“Okay fine, it stings a bit. But it’s not that serious. I’ll be fine.” Both girls stared at me with open skepticism. “I mean it. Besides, it was really expensive.”
Sigrid considered things for a moment, then nodded and put the potion away. “Fine.”
As soon as we were strong enough to stand up again the floodgates released and she insisted on knowing everything. We did our best to describe the experience on the way back to town, but it was difficult to put it all into words. It had been such an alien, otherworldly place, the sensations were so foreign, and the monsters so...monstrous, it was impossible to do it all justice with mere words.
“Damn,” Sigrid said. “I was feeling pretty pissed off I couldn’t go in there with you, but now I’m kinda glad.”
“We’re going back,” Jane said.
“You’re what?” Sigrid said.
“Oh, not now!” Jane said, waving her hands in front of her. “I’m pretty sure we weren’t meant to go into that place until we were much, much stronger. But now we know what we’re up against, and we know what works against it. We are going to get stronger, and we are going to go back, and we are going to beat that fucking dungeon.”
“Damn straight,” I said, and was rewarded with one of Jane’s unbeatable smiles.
There’s my protagonist.
Sigrid and I paired off after that. We’d had a big snack after coming out of the dungeon so Jane’s mana was back up, and she went on ahead, leaving a trail of ice patches, burnt shrubs, and vibrantly alive plants in her wake as she practiced with Affinity Control, while Sigrid slowed her pace to stick back with me as we shared tidbits about ourselves.
Sigrid Sorrensen was 22 years old with a crisp, fresh University degree in Film Studies. She rented a condo at Yonge and Bloor and earned a living mostly through her YouTube channel devoted to yoga and exercise, with some modeling on the side. She’d left behind on Earth a doting widowed father, three annoying younger sisters she loved more than life itself, a slew of acquaintances but precious few people she would call an actual friend, a couple of on-and-off boyfriends (more like friends-with-benefits she later amended), several hundred thousand social media followers, and a cat named Meowmeow who she suspected was the real reason she had so many followers. Meowmeow liked to curl up in the most unlikely places while she recorded her videos and it had become a sort of Where’s Waldo game among her fans to see who could spot him first. She’d been told that Meowmeow got more action in the comments than she did, but she couldn’t be sure. She never, ever, read the comments because, you know: trolls suck.
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I’m not good at sharing, but something about Sigrid made me more comfortable than I could remember being with another person in a long, long time. Her openness, her honesty, her authenticity, her humility. All I could think was: so that’s what real confidence looks like. So when it was my turn, I ended up telling her a lot more about myself than I’d intended.
She was just so understanding and empathetic and easy to talk to that once I got going it all just started pouring out. When I was talking she was entirely focused on what I had to say; she wasn’t waiting for her turn to speak or glancing around to see what else was going on, she was listening like she actually cared. I wasn’t used to that, so I found myself sharing more of myself with her in those few minutes than I think I ever had in almost two years with my ex. Don’t judge me.
Time seemed to fly by as we chatted. Before I knew it, we’d almost reached the place where the hills gave way to the flat area upon which the city had been built.
“I have to say, you had the right idea about the encounters at night.”
“Uh, yeah,” Sigrid said, putting her finger up to the side of her jaw and scratching lightly.
“I never thought you were the type to date a gamer nerd, though.”
“Yeah, well, about that...”
She looked distinctly uncomfortable. “It’s fine,” I said, waving my hand frantically in front of me. “Never mind.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s just. Well, about Andy.”
“What about him?”
“It was him. He was the one who brought up the idea. He said he wondered if they did this sort of encounter thing here.”
“Then we should’ve brought him!”
“I tried to, but he said to go on without him. He was too tired.”
“Wow. That was nice of him. Still, I wonder what wore him out. How much extra kung fu training did he do?”
Her hand went back up to the side of her face, finger scritching. “About that...aw man, don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what? I was just wondering.”
“It was me, okay?”
“What was you?”
Sigrid made fists with both hands and shook them in front of her while looking up at the sky. The two moons shone down on her face, which would have been even more beautiful in the wan light if it didn’t look so frustrated.
“I was the one who wore him out.”
I looked at Sigrid. She looked back at me, then shrugged. I blinked a few times. And it took me until that moment to figure out what she meant.
Maybe I was a bit dense after all.
“Well next time go easy so he can come with,” I said, and that earned me a smile.
After a few minutes of what I thought was companionable silence, Sigrid spoke up.
“Listen, Daniel...”
“Yeah?”
“I owe you an apology.”
I laughed. “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me if you sleep with Andy, or anyone for that matter. None of my business.”
“Well duh. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Oh? Sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry while I’m apologizing, dummy. Look, I’m sorry, okay? When I first agreed to join you, I...damn, this is hard. Okay, so at first I agreed because I thought you’d be easy to boss around. There. I said it. I was new to all this, and I was feeling really overwhelmed and scared and I’m not used to that, you know? So you came along, and you were all sweet and innocent and cute but you seemed to know what you were doing so I thought I could just sort of, you know...”
“Use me?”
“Well, yeah.”
“And that’s why you’re sorry?”
“Yeah.”
“Sigrid, do you remember what I told you when we first met? The reason why you were the first I asked to join me?”
“You wanted help. So?”
“Jane actually said it at the time. I wanted to use you.”
“Yeah, to help you talk to other people. Same thing.”
“Exactly. Same as you. Same thing.”
“But it’s not the same as me. I wanted to use you to help...me. Oh yeah. It is the same thing.” Then she hit me. “But you came right out and admitted it. I didn’t.” She hit me again. “That’s the difference, dummy.”
“Okay, fine. You win. You are a horrible person. Now can you please stop hitting me?”
Just as that lovely moment of bonding happened, Sigrid stiffened and put out a hand in front of my chest to stop me from moving.
“What?” I said.
“Something’s coming,” she hissed.
Danger sense. I pulled out my dagger.
She whistled softly to get Jane’s attention, and when Jane looked back she gestured for her to come to us.
“What is it?” Jane said, jogging back.
“Danger.”
Jane grinned and pulled out her rapier. “Thank god. I really need to vent on something.”
Sigrid must’ve noticed the look on my face. “She hates losing,” she offered by way of explanation.
I got it. After what we went through in the Void Dungeon, I was itching to work off some frustration and inch the slate closer to even with a win too.
“Where?” Jane said. After a moment of concentration Sigrid pointed to the Southwest, past a tall hill, then slid into a defensive posture, raising her shield and hefting her spear, ready to throw.
Jane clapped me on the shoulder. “Daniel, you just try to keep up and not get in the way, alright?” She stepped forward and a bit to the side, just behind and to the right of Sigrid. I followed suit, stepping to the other side to create a wedge formation with Sigrid at the center. Jane noticed and gave a curt nod of approval.
Why did that simple nod make me feel so good? Was I really that needy for validation?
Moving together we crept up the side of the hill. As we neared the top we could hear deep growls and the sounds of battle, and once we crested the hill we could see it. A pair of Players faced off against four small humanoids with bilious gray-green skin, clad in tattered rags, and armed with crude spears. Or, more accurately, one Player faced them because the other was sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood.
He wasn’t moving.