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CHAPTER 16: THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
“Thou shall see, Kansas is a wonderful place, truly—well, it was last time I was there…err…some time ago, and I know I said the whole country is overrun with undead, but there should be a magical barrier protecting the hamlet, and—Hoy. Are thou listening to me?” I throw a glare over my shoulder, at my semi-orc companion, who has stopped in the middle of the tunnel and is busy inspecting the glowing green wall instead of listening to my importantness. “Thena,” I call out with utmost irritation.
She turns towards me, her intense golden meeting mine. “Yes? What is it?”
“…Never mind.” I sigh and roll my eyes. I turn around and resume walking. “You comin’?”
I’m starting to lose my princessy accent, I’m aware. It’s been almost a week, in-game, and this NPC roleplay thing is starting to get old. I vaguely hope she’ll just think I’m adapting my speech to hers. And if she doesn’t, it’s fine too. It’d be liberating in a way. Pretending to be an NPC is a little bothersome after a while. Logging out has been especially troublesome. It’s weekend, so I’ve really had to do it only once for a short time, but even then I had to knock my character out with poison to use a credible excuse for being comatose for eight hours.
With my skills levels reset, I misjudged the quantity of poison and almost died.
So, really, not an ideal solution.
I’m still not going to flat out tell her, though. That’d be awkward. And I’d feel like I’d have lost.
Well, it’ll be awkward anyway, but at least if she finds out on her own, I’ll feel less stressed. Initiating this kind of troublesome conversation really isn’t my style.
Aw. Even you can get embarrassed.
Not really. It’s just that bothersome things are too bothersome.
Rule 102.
Yes. And—shit. I’m out of coke.
What?
Oh, no, it was just the author typing his thoughts.
…are you sure you’re alright?
I think we both know I’m not.
“What is this thing?”
I stop walking, again, and turn back. Again. “Whatever thing might thou be referring to?”
“These…walls. I’ve never seen stone like that before.”
“Oh.” I shrug and look at the stone myself. “This whole mountain is a large managem of sorts.”
I wait for a follow-up question, but it never comes. I turn back to Thena. Hmm…I didn’t know eyes could become this wide. Are they going to pop out? That’d be a sight. Hehehe. Eyes. Sight. Get it?
You’re a lost cause.
“The whole mountain?”
“Forsooth.” I like this word, I do declare.
“And how large is this mountain exactly?”
“It encircles the whole valley.”
“……”
“Oh, and is serves as a power source for the barrier we crossed.” After reaching the top of the narrow cliff-side path, we’d enter the tunnel which is, as far as I know, the only hole in the stone wall surrounding the Valley of Nowhere. Valley-side, the tunnel end is blocked by the rainbow barrier. The other end, Kansas-side, is hidden behind a blueberry bush.
Different places. Different security measures. Some more effective than others.
I mean, duh, it’s obvious that a kickass barrier would hide something important. But hiding a secret tunnel behind a blueberry bush? Hah! Nobody would think of looking there. That’s just pure genius, man.
Barriers are so mainstream.
Yo.
I’m starting to get really worried.
Thena is back to staring at the walls as if trying to bore holes into the glowing stone. I hear her mutter, “What is this thing trying to stop? Gods?”
Well, that’d be a hypothesis. There sure is one I wouldn’t mind to be cut off from every now and then.
“You said the barrier is tied to your bloodline, didn’t you?” Thena’s investigative golden stare turns to me. Ehhh. I suck in a breath. Gosh. Please don’t look at me like that. I just changed my underwear.
…
Just kidding.
I’m not wearing any.
“Erm. Yes? Why is it thou ask?”
“Can you control the barrier?”
“Mmmh. Maybe? I do not know how I would go about that though.”
Thena continues to ponder on something but eventually, she shrugs. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Why? Is there something you need to be protected from?” I ask as she passes by me and I fall into step next to her.
I see her wince. Ah. Right. Strength and independence of Miss Muscle, sensitive spot. “I, do, not, need protection,” she growls through gritted…tusks. Her golden eyes are nearly flaming as she glares at me.
My bad, my bad. I raise both hands in a placating gesture.
I’d apologise out loud, but I’m afraid I’d sound too horny to seem sincere.
…When did I became such a pervert?
May I suggest: birth?
No, you may not.
I blame this body. Blimey hormones. Did they need to make the game this realistic? And do all women always feel like they are standing at the centre of a tight maelstrom of contradicting emotions and just leaning slightly in one direction will get them swept away?
I think you’re just mentally unstable.
Shut up, voice in my head! I’m perfectly sane.
“You can ask me—I mean, if there is anything thou need. Thou took me out of that tower. That’s the least I may provide.”
Thena grunts but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge my offer.
Grunting? What are you, a cavewoman?
Mmmh. I wouldn’t mind if she clubbed us over the head and dragged us into a corner to ravage our powerless body in a savage display of cavewoman love.
YOU!! It’s your fault I’m having these thoughts!
…I can neither confirm nor deny this accusation.
Ugh!!
With me arguing against my own mind and Thena brooding—the usual, really—we eventually reach the end of the tunnel.
The exit is rather narrow. I have no trouble walking out from behind the bush, but Thena has to crouch and walk sideways to fit through. I remember how tight it had been for me when I first went through. Thena seems to have more trouble even. Well…who told her to have awesome pecs and breasts? They aren’t huge, the breasts, but they do stand out quite a lot due to the muscles underneath pushing them forth. Her cloth shirt is also clinging to—
Right, I should stop staring before she knocks me unconscious.
What would happen afterwards is anyone’s guess.
Shut up.
The tunnel brought us on the other side of the wall of green stone, inside a small but dense grove. I recall we should be somewhere behind the village elder’s house—a log cabin really. As soon as Thena extirpates herself from the narrow passage, she puts her black armour back on while I’m impatiently jumping from one bare foot to the other.
I feel quite restless. Ever since I’ve been out of the passage myself, I’ve been having a bad foreboding. Something feels off, but I can’t really pinpoint what. I want to get to the village fast and ask someone if anything bad happened while I was away. I’ll go ask Martha—the nice, loving, axe-murder Ice Queen who put me up during my previous stay. Lovely woman, that Martha—at least when she’s not walking around the house at night carrying sharp objects and startling your digested dinner out of your anal orifice.
Aka, scaring the shit outta ya.
Also, keep her away from the stove at all costs. Her so-called “cooking” makes poisons from professional assassins seem like refreshing fruit juice.
Not an instant do I worry about her reaction to my current appearance.
Fact is, I already suspected everyone in this village is somehow in on this curse-affair, and some of the stuff I found in that blasted tower only confirmed that suspicion. The only person I’m really concerned about is Dorothy, Martha’s adopted daughter. The little NPC girl who sort of became my adopted little sister after I cured her amnesia-induced psychopathy—I know, I know. But, hey, who better to catch a robber than a more competent robber?
So you admit to being insane.
Humph. I can neither confirm nor deny that accusation.
Sourpuss.
Dorothy wasn’t originally from the village. She was taken in by Martha after her parents—and pet dog—became zombie food. That event had traumatised her and had locked away her memories, alongside with her ability to feel most emotions. That is, until my-genius-self came along and healed her with my mastery of the human mind and—
You offered her a stuffed puppy toy and accidentally named it after her deceased pet, which in turn triggered her memory and emotional block, which you had no idea would happen.
Well…yeah…but…
But nothing. You are a terrible, terrible psychiatrist.
…
Well, Anyway. Point in case, Dorothy isn’t native to Kansas and I’m not sure how much she knows about the whole cursed gender-bending by dead vampire-princess spirit possession thingy.
…
……
………
Said like that, it does sound unbelievably silly.
Well, I can only hope she takes it well.
Ah. But how will I explain her without Thena overhearing? I don’t really mind if the sexy semi-orcs finds out I’m actually a player, but I’d like to keep my real gender a secret. The green Amazon is obviously a lesbian. Should she discover I’m really a G.I.R.L—Guy In Real Life—I will never have a chance with her.
…
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
……Mmh? Did I just think that? Eh. So I do want a chance with her? Doesn’t this make me one terrible douchebag for tricking her?
You can always tell her after seducing her.
This sounds like it would backfire horribly.
Ah. But that’s half the fun, isn’t it?
…to play with the feeling of a girl who’s already obviously emotionally troubled?
I hear no answer from my kinda-other-self, but somehow, I have a distinct impression that this inner being is smirking evilly right now.
Eh. My subconscious is such a dick.
I prefer the term “bitch”, thank you very much.
Please don’t bring my repressed gender issues into this.
Once again, it seems I lost contact with reality for a short while—because I suddenly walk into a tree. “Ouch.” I look up from the ground and discover that it wasn’t a tree, but Thena, who is standing unmoving in the way. Getting up, I walk around her and am about to berate her childishly for something that was entirely my fault, when I suddenly freeze.
It finally struck me what is wrong with the place.
It’s much too dark.
Instantly forgetting what I was going to say, I stand there in stunned silence, staring disbelievingly at the scene before me. During my stay in Kansas, a strong barrier of soul magic was isolating the village from the rest of the kingdom and keeping the country-spanning undead-raising curse at bay, along with the storm clouds that this curse brought forth. However, instead of the familiar sunny weather of Kansas, I am now staring at a dark grey canopy of thunderclouds.
Thena is saying something to me, but I barely notice.
I lower my gaze to the bottom of the hill we are standing on, half-expecting the village to be swarmed with the undead.
It isn’t. But maybe I would have preferred it to be. At least this would be making more sense to me than the stillness I am witnessing. I can’t make out any detail—the closest houses are still too far—but I can’t see any sign of destruction or even fighting, which there would have been had a horde of zombies and ghouls had attacked the village. Kansas isn’t just your average backwater hamlet. I clearly recall the abnormal strength possessed by even the humblest village girl.
Why, back when I was still a nearly seven-foot-tall hunk of muscles, I was powerless to stop a duo of said village girls from raping me. Admittedly, I didn’t put up much of a fight, but still, not all they did to me was entirely consensual. Hadn’t I lost my backdoor virginity to a liana monster, and then fought an annoyingly slick [River Kraken], and then be held captive in Hell by a tribe of watermelon-worshipping succubi for a long and painful two weeks…
Well, it would have hurt.
However, not even the memory of being assaulted by butt-raping pretty girls can bring a smile to my face. The sense of dread clenching my guts only grows more potent by the second. Were I not already white-skinned, all colour would have drained from my face by this point.
“Dorothy!”
I don’t know when I started running. I think I noticed when I first tripped and ate dirt, my health bar flashing red. I’m not sure. I’m rushing towards the village, ignoring Thena’s attempts to call out to me. I’m vaguely aware of her effortlessly keeping pace with me. I think she helped me up the second time I fell, but again I’m not too sure. I pushed her away and continued running.
Out of breath and hurting from several falls, I reach the bottom of the hill and stumble into the silent village of Kansas.
*ting*
Area Notification:
You entered the village of [Kansas]. As the current sole living territory owner in the village, ownership of [Kansas] has been transferred entirely to you.
I think I’m going to puke.
“Nonononono. You promised. You promised, little sis. You’d say you’d wait for your Big Bro, right? I’m sorry I took so long. I’m sorry I can’t even be called ‘brother’ anymore. Come on, just be alright. I’ll be your Big Sister, and we’ll have tonnes of fun together again. Come one, little Dotty.” I’m muttering to myself. I don’t think I’m speaking loud enough for Thena to hear. She’s following me from several steps away now. Does she want to give me some space? Eh. She can be pretty considerate when she wants. Or maybe she just doesn’t want to interrupt the “game event”.
Whatever, I couldn’t care less right now.
I mentally shove the window away and continue my mad, unsteady dash through the now visibly empty village. I fall again. FUCKING BALANCE!! What is wrong with this girl?! Couldn’t she at least exercise a little in that fucking tower of hers?!
I turn a corner, nearly tripping on a bucket and sending it rolling loudly in the middle of the street. Despite the noise, nobody comes out. The dark, ominous skies seem to descend lower, oppressive, frightening, like the walls of a cage tightening around me. I have trouble breathing.
Maybe they’ve all just moved somewhere else after the barrier broke? It would make sense for these people to have an escape solution—plan B, C, D, all the way to ZZZbis+.
But somehow I know it’s not the case. Kansas looks more than just vacated, it looks…lifeless. There is no sign of a rapid evacuation, no door swinging on its hinges, no tool dropped in urgency. Everything looks eerily ordered and tidy, nothing out of place but the growing weeds that weren’t been there before. It’s as if the villagers cleaned everything then simply…vanished.
The smiling face of a little girl flashes in my mind. “Nononono. Not again. Don’t take her from me.” I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.
Some of the wildest theories I had during my captivity in the obsidian tower of Bluerose are coming back to me, but I push them away, focused entirely on my goal, a house standing not too far from what passes off as a central square in this tiny hamlet. A house well-recognisable by its blue-tiled roof.
I come to a skidding halt in front of the blue door of the glorified shack. The paint is chipped. Somehow, it looks abandoned for far longer than the few months I’ve been away. I push the door opened. Or at least I try. It’s jammed.
As soon as my hand comes into contact with the painted wood, another notification pops up.
*ting*
Area Notification:
As per the wish of the former owner of this habitation, its ownership has been transferred to you. Welcome home!
Fuck this.
I will the notification to explode, which it doesn’t, but it still goes away.
I throw my whole weight on the door. It doesn’t budge. I know it’s not locked. The damn thing doesn’t have a lock. I feel something warm and wet trailing down my cheek. Distractedly, I wipe it away, barely registering the red now maculating my hand.
Right. Blood tears. Fucking creepy.
A large, green hand reaches from behind me and casually pushes the door open. I look back and up at the impassive face of the stern semi-orc and manage a weak smile, then turn around and step inside.
I’m shaking like a leaf. I don’t know why I’m reacting this strongly. It’s only a bunch of NPCs. I’m not one of those NPCs-loving extremists who claim they should be considered as human as us and even try to pass laws in the real world to get that recognised. I don’t treat NPCs like trash, but I’ve killed quite a few of them. It wouldn’t be the first nor the last time that one of my digital acquaintances kicks the bucket.
Is it because it’s a child? I don’t know. I don’t think I’m particularly partial to children…I don’t know. I don’t know.
The place is as I remember it, with little furniture, a patched-up stove and three doors leading to two bedrooms and the closet that had been repurposed as my bedroom during my stay. A thick layer of dust covers everything. What nearly kills me is the stuffed puppy hellhound sitting slumped on the table, underneath a blanket of dust.
With trembling hands, I brush away the dust, not really seeing the blood I smear on the black and white fur instead. I notice a note clenched in its mechanical jaws. Right. I still recall the hours I spent putting together the mechanisms that made this puppy not only a stuffed toy but a puppet as well.
I snatched the piece of paper and pore over it. It’s all blurry nonsense.
I swear. Of course, it isn’t. It’s my fucking eyes which are bleeding. Stupid vampiric physiology.
I wipe my gory face once again. I must look like some cheap horror villain. A short, lean girl, wearing nothing but a thin white dress, with long waist-length white hair and a skin paler than a ghost, with her face covered in bright red blood and glowing red eyes, standing in an old shack and staring daggers at a piece of paper.
Finally, I can read the words, written in a childish wriggly handwriting.
I am sorry, Big Brother. You told me to always keep my promises, but I lied. I could not wait. And I could not take care of Toto the Second either. I know you will come back, so please take care of him for me.
Sorry.
Playing with Big Brother Elric was fun.
I am really happy you came back.
Thank you.
Goodbye.
I love you, Big Brother.
Dorothy.
A red drop falls on the yellowish paper and splatter all over the words. Then another. And another. Until the message is barely readable anymore. Anxiously, I try to wipe it off, but only manage to spread it even more.
As if a mockery of the moment, a cheerful chime echoes in my head.
*ting*
Quest Update: [There’s No Place Like Home]
Background The little Dorothy seems terrified of once again losing a member of her newfound family. She asked your absolute promise you would come back whatever it took. She promised to be waiting for you, but it looks like she is hiding something.
Objective Complete your journey and return to Kansas to visit the newfound family you left behind.
Success Condition: Coming back to Kansas, and visiting Dorothy’s home. (No time limit.) ✓ Failure Condition: None. Reward: Update: Ownership of all of Dorothy and Martha Bloodrain’s possessions. ✓
Quest completed!!
*ting*
You have levelled up!
I don’t know how long I stay like this. I don’t know what to do, or what to feel. I hate feeling like this—whatever this is. I hate boring, stupid stuff like sadness and grief. I just want to be happy and laugh and be worry-free, that happy-go-lucky, crazy Nick who always takes everything lightly, the guy who makes people shake their heads, asking him if he can’t ever be serious, just for once, and who answers them “Serious? Is that tasty?”I drop the note and fall to my knees, somehow grabbing the plush toy on my way to the floor, then I slide even lower, sitting on the dusty ground, sobbing, clutching the stuffed puppy like a castaway holding onto a piece of driftwood.
I can’t. I can’t be serious. It hurts too much, like swirling mass of screaming and anger and pain is trying to claw its way out of my head, out of a dark room, clawing at the padlock and rattling the door.
It hurts so much.
Why does it hurt?
Shhh…Shhh…It’s going to be alright.
I don’t understand why I’m feeling like this.
It’s fine. You don’t have to think too deeply about it.
She was only some NPC, one and zeros. I bet she could easily be revived. There has to be a backup somewhere. She wasn’t even human.
Shhh…Don’t cry. Don’t hurt. Just leave everything to me.
Why am I like this?
You’re just human. It’s normal to be sad. Go to sleep. Get some rests. Log out. Take a break. You’re exhausted. You’ve been playing for too long. It’s taking a toll on your mind.
You think?
I’m sure. Trust me. I’ll take care of you.
…okay.
“Victoria…Vicky…”
I raise my head from the bloody fur of the stuffed animal. My reddened gaze meets two pools of golden fire. For an instant, I almost forget my grief. She really has beautiful eyes, Athena. Sure, it’s her avatar, not her real body; but the burning rage contained within those eyes cannot be faked.
Then it all comes crashing back. I choke a sob, then I try to smile, but for once, I find out I can’t. Instead, I sigh. “Please…I just need to be alone for a little while.” Looking down, I see the discarded note and quickly pick it up. I can’t have Thena read it. I’m really in no state to have that discussion right now. “If you have questions, I can answer them later. Just…not now…please.”
I feel more than I see her nod. I’ve noticed I can always tell in which direction she is, and when we’re close like this, the mental image gets stronger, to the point I have a strange awareness of her body next to me. Must be a skill. I should check it out. I’ll do it later. Just…not now.
I think Thena is…relieved not to have to deal with me, that I told her to leave me alone. Another than me might feel offended or wounded, but I understand. She isn’t the kind who’s good at comforting others. I understand. I’m the same. Hell, I wouldn’t want to deal with me right now.
“If you’re sure.”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Okay…Then…I’ll probably be sleeping for a few days. I…” She sounds so uncomfortable. For some reason, that actually brings the shadow of a smile on my face. “I told you about how adventurers sleep, didn’t I?”
I nod. “Yeah…” I recall when she did. It was funny. I’ve had to give that little speech so many times during my travel. Being on the receiving end was a weird experience. Especially since it was clear Thena had played mostly in the Safe Zone and wasn’t used to NPCs not being aware of players’ nature.
“Right…Well…I’ll…go take a look around, make sure it’s safe...and then I’ll find…another…house to sleep in…See you…”
I hear her step away.
“Thena?” Finally, I look up. She stops and also looks back at me. It’s almost funny how her eyes are unconsciously drifting towards the door. She’s really bad with crying girls, uh? Hehe. I’m not sure she’d be that great as a girlfriend, after all. Well, it’s okay. I’m sure I’d be a terrible girlfriend too. At last, I manage a weak smile. “Thank you…for bringing me back here.”
She shuffles awkwardly. “Yeah…Sure…You’re welcome.”
I smile a little wider at her discomfort. What can I say? It’s cute to see such a strong woman acting like this. It’s the gap, you know?
I decide to free her and look away, tacitly giving her the green light to flee the house. As soon as I hear the door close behind her, I stand up. Still holding Toto the Second by its left front fluffy paw, I slowly walk towards Dorothy’s bedroom. Reaching out to push the door, I finally become aware of how bloody my hand is, and my arm, and my face, and the plush toy. My enchanted dress remains immaculate as always.
With a sigh, I flex some mental muscle and all the blood detaches itself from me and the puppy. First I gather it into a ball, then picture several bracelets for both my wrists and ankles, as well as a necklace of ruby-red crystals. At my mental command, the blood flows back to me once more and solidifies as jewellery as I’d imagined it.
Again, a half-smile graces my lips. It’s a shame jewellery wouldn’t look good on my real body. I’ve grown rather fond of these little ornaments. Maybe I should check out some leather wristbands or silver neck chains. Manly jewellery has to be a thing, no?
Maybe it doesn’t need to be too manly.
We’ll see.
When I step into the silent bedroom, it too hasn’t changed at all. The mountain of pillows is still there. Everything is so much as it used to be, I almost expect to see a small head with brown twin-tails suddenly emerge from the heap of cushion and shout, “Big Brother! I want a story!”
I would drag the rocking chair across the room and sit by her bed, lean my elbows on my knees and rest my chin on my joined hands, then I’d take on an exaggerated mysterious expression and talk in a silly old man voice and ask, “Well, little girl, have you ever heard the tale of Alice in the Realm of Hallucinogenic Substances?”
I would be fun.
But there is no little girl ready to pester me incessantly about all the inconsistencies and plot-holes in my story. There is only dust, and me, sitting alone in that fucking rocking chair, leaning with my elbows on my knees and my face in my hands, crying.
Until a voice breaks through my silent sobbing.
“Hello, Young One. It has been a while, has it not?”
* * * * *