CHAPTER 4

July 31, 2049

  Azalea awoke to shouting.

  Upon finishing their conversation last night, Ayleon had offered her a spare tent within the camp, and it was around midday when Azalea finally emerged, yawning quietly. She rubbed the newly aching spot on the small of her back. With little in terms of spare resources, she had been forced to use a thin, rough make-shift leather bedroll that Ayleon had lying around in his inventory. It wasn’t like the other players had much of anything different, but she still didn’t understand why the developers had to go as far as introducing backaches into the game.

  The sun was sweltering, having reached the peak of its ascent. Ayleon had also gifted her a spare set of clothing while her sea-soaked robes and cap dried throughout the night, but now she found herself regretting changing back into them. Her skin was already slick with sweat, and the silk robes clung to her uncomfortably.

  There were a few groups of people standing in front of the meeting tent. Azalea could already make out the dark red plate of her brother, but she didn’t recognize any of the rest. She glanced around the campsite warily, with the arguing pack having garnered a decent amount of attention, none spared her any glance as she began to make her way over.

  “Calm down!” She heard Ayleon shout, standing between the groups. It was fruitless, as the hoard of players continued shouting towards Ayleon. “Calm yourselves and speak clearly!”

  “Calm down?!” a player in steel armor shouted. Azalea recognized him as the guard that had led her through the camp last night. “You can’t expect us to work with the other guilds any longer! They’ve already kicked us out of three different dungeons!”

  Members of the other lead group began shouting too, all dressed in icy-blue armor, with an engraving of a sword pointed north, surrounded in blue flames, stamped on their breastplates. Azalea immediately noticed the man standing silently at the head of the group. It was the man with red hair from the night before, although without his robes, she almost didn’t recognize him. Now, he wore a pair of glasses, with a mace dangling from his waist. To top it off, there was even a circlet around his head.

  If she was being honest, he reminded her of a king.

  “This is a time for peace,” Ayleon continued. He glanced between the two lead players of each group, but none looked close to backing down. “If we start fighting now, everything will dissolve into chaos.”

  “It’s already too late,” the redhead chimed in. He idly fingered the pommel of his mace.

  “You don’t know that, Harvill.”

  “I do.” The man in blue armor, Harvill, stepped forward, meeting Ayleon’s level gaze. “My party has been busy scouting throughout the night. Guilds have already been laying claims upon territory throughout the zone. We’ve only explored to the edge of the plains, but other players will quickly move passed that.”

  “We shall too,” Ayleon declared. “But why work alone when we can potentially form an alliance? Why try to figure out why we’ve been trapped alone, when we’d be more efficient as one?”

  “Things aren’t the same anymore, Ayleon. The laws of the real world don’t apply to us. This is still a game, even if we are stuck here without access to our real bodies.”

  Ayleon raised a single hand, pointing to the sky above, where the red stars twinkled even in the daylight. Azalea could’ve sworn that it looked like there were more than the previous day. “We can’t forget about what happened to them. They still haven’t respawned, so we—”

  “Players are respawning,” Harvill interrupted. Like many of the players around her, Azalea couldn’t hide her surprise. “A member of Dauntless had the materials for a reconstruction-shrine in his inventory. Last night, they went out and claimed a large amount of land just northwest of here and built the shrine. After activating it, a player emptied his inventory and willingly got himself killed. Next thing he knew, he was respawning back at the shrine.”

  The crowd began to mutter between themselves. Ayleon stared at Harvill, brows furrowed. His hands were clenched by his side, and he remained standing stock straight. It was an expression she had never seen her brother make before, and try as she might, she couldn’t tell what he could’ve been thinking.

  “So, as the only guild with the ability to respawn, they’ve offered it to other players. For a price,” Harvill finished.

  “A price?” Ayleon said, voice tense.

  “The materials for a reconstruction-shrine are rare,” Harvill explained. “As you know, we have only ever built three, and the last took years due to lack of resources available. So, it isn’t unreasonable for them to ask for payment in return.”

  “How much?”

  Harvill turned back to one of his men, who leaned forward and whispered into his ear. His mouth was nothing more than a grim line when he faced Ayleon again.

  “One million Idra per player,” Harvill said

  “That’s robbery!” A player shouted to Azalea’s right.

  “I don’t have anything close to that!” Another exclaimed. “But if we don’t pay for access…doesn’t that mean we won’t respawn…like the others.”

  Azalea found herself looking up at the sky again. Not for the first time, she wondered what was happening to those players right now. Were they looking down on the surviving players, watching them argue between themselves, or were they someplace else entirely? Without them having re-activated a reconstruction-shrine themselves in the new zone, was there any chance of them ever returning?

  Despite the overbearing heat, Azalea shivered. And now, with this other guild demanding such an extraordinarily high price to access their shrine, they were essentially sentencing every player unable to pay to a permanent death if they were killed. With a flip of her wrist, she opened her own menu. Azalea hadn’t played much, and she didn’t expect to have anything close to one million, but she had still received some Idra from the fights with Javier.

  In the top-right corner of her menu, it read: 34 IDRA.

  Thirty-four. That’s all she had, and from the looks of the players around her, many of them seemed to be in a similar boat. The murmuring continued, until Harvill spoke again, silencing the crowd.

  “Of course, they have offered an alternative. You can also have access to the shrine if you join their guild.”

  No one said a word. Azalea found herself watching Ayleon. He was frowning, still watching the redhead with that unreadable expression. Many of the guild members turned to their leader, but were met with nothing.

  “Our course of action seems clear,” Harvill continued. “Without access to the reconstruction-shrine, you will never be able to respawn. Fights have already broken out, but as it stands, no one can truly challenge what they’re doing. Not without the fear of death.”

  “What do the other guilds think of this?” Ayleon eventually said. “You can’t convince me that the majority of them agree with what Dauntless is doing.”

  Harvill shrugged. “From what we could gather, Dauntless was sent here with around three hundred members. And by our last count, they were up to nearly four thousand just half an hour ago. Many of those other guilds no longer exist, and I can’t say that I blame them.”

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  The crowd broke out into talking once more, and even Ayleon seemed to be disturbed by the news. Many of the players began shouting different questions, but Azalea noticed that many weren’t being directed towards Ayleon, but Harvill.

  “Of course,” Harvill said. “That doesn’t mean we should all rush over there and join their guild.”

  The man in steel armor took a step forward. He glanced back at his party members before turning back to Ayleon, looking resigned. “I’m sorry, Ayleon. We can’t pay the fee they're asking, but I also can’t ask my party to keep putting their lives on the line when we could have access to a shrine.”

   “I understand,” Ayleon responded, although his words sounded forced. “Truly, I do. But let’s not do anything rash here. Perhaps Dauntless isn’t the only guild with the access to build a reconstruction-shrine. If there is another guild close to having all the materials, perhaps we could think about allying with them.”

  “I don’t know.” The man in steel turned back to his group, and they talked quietly between themselves. From the sounds of it, Azalea didn’t think that they’d be changing their minds anytime soon. Eventually, the man turned back. “That might work, but there’s still no guarantee that we’d be fine while we wait for it to be built. I don’t know about the rest of you, but my party doesn’t want to end up like the players that died on the beach.”

  Ayleon frowned, but he could do little as the man turned and led his party towards the exit of the campsite. It was then that Harvill stepped forward once more, addressing the crowd and bringing the leaving party to a halt.

  “Like I said, let’s not be rash here,” Harvill said. “I understand the distress that some of you may be in. We’re trapped in the game, in an unfamiliar world without a single word from any of the developers. I’m terrified, just as the rest of you are.”

  The players around Azalea vocalized their agreement, yet she didn’t make a single motion. Harvill’s words were moving, sure, but something seemed off. Ayleon was still watching Harvill with furrowed brows, his lips drawn into a thin line. Apparently, more players had joined the crowd throughout the discussion, as there were now a few players standing behind Ayleon, similar expressions on their faces, yet they were clearly the minority here.

  “I’ve discussed this at great length with my party,” Harvill said. He took a step forward, approaching the man in steel armor. Harvill placed a hand on his shoulder. “While we know that many of you lack the funds, my party has decided that we shall pay the one million Idra for any player that decides to stay in The Rising Flame alongside us.”

  Azalea’s eyes grew wide, alongside everyone else’s. According to Ayleon last night, there had to be nearly eight hundred players throughout their campsite, and they were offering to pay for everyone… Azalea began to slowly push her way through the crowd again, wanting to suddenly reach her brother. She lost sight of the speakers as she stepped into the crowd—as most of the players were much larger than herself—but when she finally made it to the front of the mass, Harvill had moved to stand next to his party.

  “My party is called The Blades of Wrath,” Harvill declared. “If any wishes to take us up on our offer, then all you must do is ask.”

  With that, he turned and left, making his way towards the entrance of the camp. Most of the crowd moved to follow—whether they planned to take them up on the offer, or go join Dauntless themselves, Azalea couldn’t tell. Soon enough, it was just her and Ayleon, along with a few dozen players standing behind Ayleon, watching the crowd leave.

  “Leon,” Azalea said, finding her voice to be surprisingly weak. Her brother faced her, but all traces of his typically relaxed attitude were gone.

  “Lea,” Ayleon responded. He let out a deep sigh. “I was wondering if you were part of the crowd.”

  “It was hard to miss,” she joked, but neither of them laughed.

  One of the men standing behind Ayleon stepped forward, addressing her older brother. He was much older than them, his hair and bushy beard a mixture of gray and black hairs. His armor was a dark black, with red accents painted on. “Ayleon, if I may…”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I know that we’ve never spoken much,” the man said. “But I’ve been in this guild for nearly three years now. I’ve followed you into countless battles, both against monsters and other guilds. I’m loyal to the flame, as we say.”

  “I appreciate that, Michelk,” Ayleon responded. “However, I don’t think—”

  “But you’re making a mistake.”

  Ayleon frowned. “I don’t think that we can—”

  “You allowed them too much freedom,” Michel interrupted. He had a spear in hand, firmly planted on the ground. “You gave us your order last night, but they clearly didn’t follow. I understand the desire to work together. We’d accomplish more. Maybe find a way to leave this god-forsaken game. But you must remember that at its core, Iadral is still just that—a game. A PvP focused game. Once the discovery of the reconstruction-shrine becomes widely known, and the fear of permanent death is removed, it’s going to be hard to convince anyone else to think otherwise, and many of us will return to our typical methods of playing the game.”

  “I know, I know,” Ayleon responded, resigned. He closed his eyes, placing a hand on his forehead. “It’s just that none of us have any clue as to what’s happening still. I just thought that for the first time, we’d actually see players working together in this game while we tried to figure it out, rather than resorting to fighting on sight.”

  “It’s how the game has always been,” Michelk responded. “You know it better than most. Iadral offers a true freedom that the majority will never experience in the real world. There are no rules. No one to dictate what you do. That was the thrill of the game, and now that it’s become our only reality, people won’t want to give up that freedom easily.”

  They fell into silence for a moment, until Ayleon opened his eyes. “You’re right. I know you are. I’ll fix it.”

  “Good,” Michelk said with a nod. He held out a hand, which Ayleon grasped. “Just don’t underestimate that party. They’re stronger than they look. You might’ve just met most of us, but we’ve all known you for years, and I want you to know, me and my boys won’t be going anywhere. We won’t be kissing Harvill’s ass anytime soon.”

  Ayleon cracked a grin. “I appreciate that.”

  Michelk suddenly turned to Azalea. He glanced between her and Ayleon a few times before his eyes widened in recognition. “So, this must be the sister you’ve been bragging about!”

  Azalea glanced at her brother, whose cheeks slowly began to grow red. She smiled. “Oh, so you’ve been bragging about me?”

  “I’ve done no such thing,” Ayleon said indignantly.

  “Come on now, don’t kid yourself, you haven’t been able to shut up all night,” Michelk said. “Ain’t that right boys?!”

  The rest of the group behind him voiced their agreement, much to Ayleon’s further embarrassment. Azalea laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. If there was one good thing to have come out of this, it was that she’d at least have something to tease him about.

  “Alright, alright,” Ayleon grumbled. He strode over to her and gripped her shoulder, beginning to tug her into the meeting tent. “I’ll talk to you guys later. We’ve got some stuff to do.”

  The flap to the meeting tent closed to the sound of Michelk’s laughter. It took Azalea a few moments to calm her own. Ayleon moved to stare pointedly at the table, refusing to look at her. Eventually, she siddled close and nudged his side.

  “Awe, come on,” Azalea said. “Would it make you feel better to know that I brag about you too?”

  Ayleon raised an eyebrow, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, really?”

  “Of course!” Azalea exclaimed. “I mean, how many people can say that their brother was the World Champion of Iadral Online?”

  Ayleon snorted and stood a bit taller, crossing his arms over his chest. “You make a good point.”

  Azalea grinned. She was relieved to see him looking more like his typical self. She remembered how he looked earlier, watching Harvill give that speech to the crowd. Azalea still didn’t know what to think about the man in blue. Part of her wanted to believe that he had good intentions, but from Ayleon’s reaction—along with Michelk’s—it couldn’t be anything good.

  “So,” Azalea continued. “I think you said something about grinding last night?”

  Ayleon pointed to an empty section of the map. The plains had been crudely drawn on the piece of parchment, with new areas clearly having been added throughout the night.

  “No one has explored this area yet,” Ayleon said. “I figured we’d head out there and do some fighting. We need to increase your level a bit if you’re to stand any chance on your own.”

  Azalea nodded her assent. “Is it just going to be us?”

  “No. There’s one other person I’m going to be inviting.”

  “Oh? Care to share who?”

  Ayleon shook his head, winking at her. “That’s part of the surprise.”

  Azalea glanced down at the bottom-left corner of her vision, where two names still shone. While they had separated the previous evening, they had decided to stay in the same party so that they could eventually meet up again. She hadn’t known when that would be, but this seemed like the perfect occasion.

  Azalea smiled at her older brother, making him raise an eyebrow. “Then I’m going to invite one of my own.”