Jet opened her eyes on the shore of a massive, waveless body of water. She couldn’t see the other side, but she could make out a distant mountaintop. No vessel or anything else was in the water. Upon further examination, the shore was smooth as glass. She turned away from the water and saw an enormous statue of a man holding a staff in one hand and a book in the other.
Where am I in the game?
Jet pulled up an in-game map, and the immediate area showed nothing. Normally, a mini map showed the contents of the immediate area, but it was blank as well. Jet pulled up her instance stats and confirmed that she was the only active player.
Let’s check out my stats and character’s class.
She pulled up her character sheet to see how she rolled through the character creation process and noted the following stats.
<<>>
Character Status
Name: JetaGirl
Race: Human
Level: 1
Gender: Female
Class: Mage (Rank 1)
Health: 100
Mana: 100
Stamina: 100
Attributes
Strength: 5
Constitution: 15
Intelligence: 19
Wisdom: 12
Dexterity: 5
Agility: 5
Charisma: 10
Perception: 15
Luck: 14
Skills
Magical Recovery
Items:
Novice Staff
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
<<>>
Jet opened her spell book to see which starter spells she received.
Spell: Magic Shield
Use: Protects the caster by providing a magical shield. Duration increases by level and reduces offensive spell capability.
Incantation: In-Por-Cad-Cras
Level: 1
Spell: Flight
Use: The ability to levitate and glide over obstacles. Has a limited range and duration (increases by level). Useful for avoiding life-threatening damage or getting to out of reach objects.
Incantation: In-Por-Ot-Vet
Reagents: Griffon’s Feather, Demon Salt
Level: 1
The beach stopped at the base of the statue. Between its feet was a small opening. As Jet examined the passage, she saw a staircase that apparently was crafted from stone. The edges looked rough and needed some polish. Whispered muttering beckoned her. Darkness enveloped Jet as she descended into what she thought was a tomb.
“Who’s there?”
“You’re not her?” a disembodied voice said.
Who are they talking about?
“I’m a friend,” Jet said in a shaky voice.
“You have violated this sacred land. Now leave,” an older voice said.
“You’re hurting us.”
Various voices faded in and out as she descended.
“You have a calling, JetaGirl,” a low voice said.
Laughter echoed throughout the tomb. A feeling of extreme unease washed over her. It was like she stepped on someone’s grave, only to find out they wished to punish someone for it. Her visor disconnected abruptly. Jet removed the VR gear. Sweat poured down her face, and her shirt was soaked. She covered herself with a nearby blanket. Her teeth rattled as an icy chill washed over her. She was impressed by the amount of detail a portable version of the game had. She made a mental note to find additional information on it once the internet was available to her again.
Who knows when that will be? Jet thought.
Her wheelchair was out of reach.
Dammit, I need to use the bathroom.
She sat up and rubbed at her legs and feet. An older couple had taken her in and during her recovery had showed Jet exercises that she could perform to prevent her legs from atrophy. During intense sessions of massage, she thought she could feel her legs. But when he tried using them to move around, she was abruptly reminded that it was still a long road to making a full recovery. She thought she could propel herself into the wheelchair if she positioned herself just right.
Here goes nothing.
When her bare feet touched the cold floor, something interesting happened. She thought she could feel its icy touch. With the assistance of the empty top bunk, she propelled herself toward the chair. Stood for the briefest of moments, then fell. She hit the chilly floor and caught herself from heading face-first onto the rough, unforgiving surface.
“Josephine, you shouldn’t try to get out of bed,” Sally said. The young woman helped Jet to the chair.
“I needed to use the facilities.”
“You should have called. I was just a few bunks over.”
Moments later Jet found herself inside a small room just large enough to fit her wheelchair, the toilet, and a sink.
I need to speak to Damien about making this place wheelchair accessible.
Jet sighed at the thought. Who was she kidding? The Dark Angels were not letting her stay with them. Damien had made that clear. She washed her hands, and the top of her head was just visible. A wave of shock and revulsion overcame her. She didn’t recognize the person she was staring at. The Josephine she knew was happy. This version looked like she had crawled out of a dark pit. In a way, that is exactly what she had done.
Don’t feel sorry for yourself, girl. You will overcome this. It’s only a momentary obstacle.
The light in the tiny room escaped. The illuminance decreased by at least fifty percent.
What the?
An icy touch wrapped around her neck. It felt gentle, like a lover’s touch. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed into the mirror. A black tar substance oozed out of the mirror and into the sink. She pushed her chair back. The tar ball stretched a tiny hand toward her. It was about the size of a baby’s hand, but instead of a soft infant’s touch, a sharp claw extended and scratched her left hand. Jet’s breath caught, and she closed her eyes.
You’re losing touch with reality, girl.
She took slow, deliberate breaths. Her heart rate slowed. She opened her eyes to find the person she’d feared she would turn into.
I’m hopeless. No wonder why Nigel has forsaken me.
She opened the door and was about to leave when a dull pain shot across her hand. A nasty pink cut was visible in several spots. It looked like a wild animal had clawed at her. She scanned the room to locate the source of the cut, but couldn’t locate anything that could have scratched her. As she left the bathroom, she couldn’t shake the incessant feeling that she was being monitored. Something was amiss.
Sally is right. I need my sleep.
Jet made it back to her bed and was asleep in minutes.