I’m not a disorder! Who are you? Where am I? What’s going on?
The voice in Elia’s head was real, small, and becoming increasingly distressed.
“Elia. Ohio. A two-girls-one-cranium bargain.”
What does that even MEAN?
“It means–”
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 8 min
ACK! What was THAT?
She sighed. “My alarmclock.”
Elia wasn’t getting up, not after that last fuckup. There was not a shred of doubt that she would regret it later, but such was the price for mental health. Some days, you just needed a break.
“So. What’s your deal, oh voice of my mind? You got a name?” The vague image of a mousy girl with blond hair standing half in the shadows formed in her mind, but the moment she tried to focus, the picture hushed back into the darkness.
I-I’m… I’m Rye. I don’t know how I got here, or what ‘here’ even means. What’s an Ohio?
“An in-joke.” She stared forward emptily, before swatting another notification smokescreen away. “Don’t worry, you’re not in Ohio. This place is barely half as bad.”
Oh. That’s… good?
“Yep. It’s the end of the world, the medieval post apocalypse, baby. Undead and lootboxes dominate the land while the battlepass-lords and fickle developers rule from towers of green bills and the tears of addicted broke teenagers. Welcome to limbo, where god has decreed that life is a maze and the only way forward is ten steps back. Welcome to gamified suffering. Welcome to hell.”
The ensuing silence hung awkwardly, like unaired laundry. Eventually, Elia found it within her unending benevolence to say something to her new roommate. Not out of any sense of selflessness, but because the girl was hyperventilating, and the sound of her breathing made forming any single thought a chore.
“Look, girl. Rye was it? Make yourself at home in my head but if you don’t stop filling it with your mind-breathing, I will put ‘Last Christmas’ and ‘Feliz Navidad’ on repeat until your ears start bleeding chocolate frosting and marzipan.”
What does any of that even MEAN? You’ve barely given me an answer, everything feels wrong and all I can see is… whatever you’re looking at. I can’t be here, I need to help Mum make breakfast, clean out the grug stalls and…I’m in your head, aren’t I? Oh gods. Oh gods oh gods oh gods-
“I’m gonna stop you right there, my little sentient panic attack. You’re in my head, yes, but look on the bright side.”
…there’s a bright side to all this?
“Yes! This all is a mighty coincidence that is technically not my fault at all!” She shot a glare to the bulging pocket at her side. Quibbles could sleep remarkably well on a bad conscience. “Your mother’s a frog and your dad shags goldfish!”
EXCUSE ME?
“Oh, not you. Talkin’ to the toad in my tote bag. Everything’s gonna be all right, because – say it with me, class – I’m A W E S O M E!”
Elia flung her arms to the sky in a grand gesture and finally, finally got a laugh out of her companion.
Gods. You’re insane.
“No, I’m Elia. Need a demonstration?”
I’m convinced already. In all seriousness, where even are w–
“Good. Because I’m fairly busy at the moment. Busy with what you ask? Waiting, of course. Waiting for a fresh slate, for all stakes to disappear.”
There was another silence. Elia had barely closed her eyes when the voice piped up again.
What stakes?
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 6 min
“The death penalty. Rather, the penalty for dying.”
I… don’t even know how to start talking to you, but shouldn’t you do something about… that?
The girl named Rye, who had every reason to be as scared and confused as she was, had a point. A point that had been noted, processed, and filed for deletion from mid-term memory, if it ever got that far. But the little voice didn’t let up.
It seems kind of important. It says you’ll lose your… souls? As in multiple? That doesn’t seem right. But if you lose your own soul, doesn’t that mean that you…
“Hm–what? Oh, no, don’t worry, I’m awesome. Also immortal.” Immortal with a slew of caveats. “Everything is under control, citizen. Carry on, nothing to see here.”
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 5 min
“Oh, would you shut up? I’m not making it past thirty dudes with swords and crossbows in fifteen, let alone five. Might as well give up, not stress it.”
You know you can just choose to have that kind of message suppressed, right?
Now that got Elia to perk up. Literally, as she shot from casually lying with her hands folded behind her head to sat-up straight within moments.
“Uh, how do I do that? This funky smoke didn’t exactly come with a manual. I barely figured out how to dismiss it manually.”
It’s Hanzarp’s Handy Haze. It has a fancier name, but that’s how I remembered it. It’s an elementary technique, taught in the capital, first given unto us by the great god Ruthe, blessed be his name. When you learned it, you must have been taught to associate certain ideas with its diverse functions. For me, I took the image of a silver sieve to sort out what I don’t like. You’re a knight, by the looks of your armor – you should really take better care of it, by the way – and so as a servant of the capital you should have already learned it. It should be as easy as – well – breathing.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 4 min
Elia never really learned anything, she was simply reborn into this world with this power when God decided to reincarnate her. For lack of a better alternative, she tried to imagine a silver sieve, something she never thought she’d ever naturally do. The constant messages stopped in that instance, delegated to muted background pings. “Huh.”
Good! See, as long as you were a diligent student, you won’t ever forget. It’s like swimming in that regard, though I never learned how to swim. Can you swim? What is it like? Is there a difference between swimming in an ocean and a river?
“Hold your horses.” She heaved her body towards a nearby fountain. All this talking was straining her rather neglected voice.
The bowl she respawned at when time turned backwards and she came back from the dead always had a pool of crystal clear blue water in it, a pool that never ran out and tasted like whatever she wished for.
“Say, what’s your favorite drink?”
Uhhh… apple juice mixed with water and half a pressed lemon?
“Apple lemon juice it is.”
She drank deeply and calmly from the water. There was no rush, nobody to tell her how to drink or what to eat. Not that she’d have much of an alternative besides exploring cannibalism. When she felt full enough, Elia raised her head and wiped away the lingering wetness.
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“That was surprisingly refreshing. I dig it. Y’know, I think we might just make a good team, you and I.”
…You really think so?
“Sure. Long as you help me like you just did, I’ll take you wherever you need to be. Once I get out of this fucking maze.”
Language.
“Yes, indeed, you are the language person. However many deaths it takes, I will get out of here.” She raised her chin a respectable degree. “With my unshakable will and your extensive vocabulary, nothing shall get in our way.”
Bless the twelve. I… I’m glad I happened upon you, miss knight. We can go on a quest, no, an ADVENTURE together to, I don’t know, solve this. Solve me. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I need a new body. Admittedly I thought you a lunatic, but wh–aaaaa–
Elia shot to her feet, ignoring her passenger’s surprised yelps as she threw her head left and right. She was sure she didn’t make it to the next fountain-bowl, the next checkpoint. There was an epic last stand, a one-liner and everything.
But the last checkpoint didn’t have a half-crumbled statue sitting in the middle of the water bowl. This one did and Elia could see where she had stumbled and broke her nose against the bowl’s rim. This was new. And being revived this far ahead instead of at the point before meant…
“I can still make it.”
…aaat- make what? Oh, sorry, don’t mind me. I can bear being like this for a while longer. We don’t need to embark on our adventure just yet, right? Preparation is key, as they say. And your poorly upkept getup doesn’t inspire me with confidence. Sorry.
In the few seconds it took for Elia to regain her bearings – three exits, a toppled lion statue next to an exit to the front, one under a roman arch engraved with flowers to the right, one behind where she had come from – she had summoned up the smoke the way she knew it.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 2 min
If she could make it back to where she died, then she could regain her lost souls and shards.
“Shit, where is it?” She remembered dying close by but just as the bubbling joy shot to her head, she blinked once and the timer ticked down.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 1 min
Where is what? Where is WHAT!?
“Shit shit shit!” Elia turned and with a start exploded back into the maze where she had died, old and chipped armor rattling and squealing against itself along the way. It was right here, right around the corner.
She turned past the wall and a figure in rags rose from where it sat among the shin-high water. Elia paid it no mind, ran past it, then screeched to a halt and turned back around.
Please talk to me, what is it, why are you worried, what-
“There it is!” A small orb of silvery light floated contentedly above the water. Elia took one step towards it and the mindless undead brandished its sword. The orb was right at its feet. “Ah shit. It’s never that easy. Hey bozo! I called dibs exactly one lifetime ago!”
The undead took one more step, squashing the glowing orb. It broke, dissolved. Wisps of vapor flowed from underfoot, snaking their way up its pant leg before disappearing up the undead’s nose. Its eyes, dull almonds sunk way into the skull, grew focused and gleamed red. With shaking jaws, its mouth of horribly decayed teeth jittered open.
“Ah.. Aaah… Ah!”
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 45 sec
“Yeah, no.” Elia stabbed it through the chest, where the heart ought to be. The voice in her head meanwhile did not like that.
What are you doing? You’re killing him! HELP! MURDER! I’VE BEEN MURDER-NAPPED! SOMEONE!
Ignoring the pleas for parley and peace, Elia was once again glad that undead still died from simple sword wounds to the chest, or face, or from any number of lethal injuries really. As if to prove the rule by exception, instead of dying the one in front howled like a banshee und backhanded her against the wall.
Her broken sword stayed stuck in its chest.
The undead swung at her, missing as it staggered back. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. You know what else is cool?”
She sidestepped a stab she had seen a thousand times before with ease and kicked out the undead’s knee from under it. It didn’t dodge, because undead were slow, weak, and so, so predictable. It fell to the floor, trying to get up but a sudden weight on its back forced it to the ground. Elia pushed its head under water, straddling its back while savagely elbowing it in the head again and again. And again.
PLE–HEASE, SOMEONE! HEEELP! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!? WHYYY?
Only after the water had turned entirely crimson did she use the undead’s own shortsword to finish it off.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 2 sec
You have regained: Soul x1507
You have gained: Soul x49
The vapor lingered for an uncomfortable minute in front of her eyes. Bloodied and tired, Elia got up and stood above the lifeless corpse, dripping, wet, and a little bit satisfied with herself.
“That was a close one. Reminds me of the time with the bristlefiend, eh Quibbles?”
Quibbles remained pointedly silent because he was a toad.
“Not like we really know what souls do anyways, but can’t have anything go to waste, isn’t that right Quibbles?”
A hesitant croak crept from her pocket and then it was silent, all but the dripping of water and blood.
“It’s ok. In my benevolence, I have chosen to forgive you.” She said with a fake haughty voice as if she hadn’t just stabbed someone. Elia casually plucked a desiccated tooth that had embedded itself in her fist before noting a splotch of blood in her reflection and leaning down to clean it. “So, Rye. You said something about getting you a body?”
Y-you, I… you… that was cold-blooded murder. You’re not a good person. You’re a killer.
Elia brushed aside a strand of blonde hair, entirely unperturbed. She could feel those blue eyes in the water, burning a hole in her face. Her borrowed face rather. It would have been a bit unreasonable to expect an involuntary transit in between worlds or universes to work with her original body intact. Or maybe it wouldn’t have?
She was new to reincarnation, though that lay long in the past. Even after decades, she still didn’t feel at home. Not in this world, nor in her body.
That’s, that’s… Oh. Oh no. Oh no, oh nonono. You!
“Him?” Elia pointed at the corpse.
No. YOU! Those are my eyes. My hair. My… shriveled up face? Oh gods, is that what happens to sinners? Is that what you did to me? To MY body?
Well, that certainly unraveled one mystery, though the armor was a pretty sure giveaway already. As best she could remember she was a hoodie-and-jogging-pants person on earth. Pauldrons and spaulders didn’t really fit into her wardrobe.
Clearly, this was god’s fault. There was no other power that could make this happen while being so indifferent to her taste in clothing. Oh, and that he put her into someone else’s body was also fairly problematic, now that that someone could actually complain to her about it.
Annoying. If it had to be this way, then maybe the body of someone more than a handspan above five foot would have been better. Or someone with boots.
“How the hell did they even let you become a knight in the first place? You’re barely taller than most teenagers.”
SHUT! SHUT UP! You, you don’t… you don’t get to say that, you MURDERER.
“Oh. My bad.” With that non-apology, Elia immediately went to rummaging through the undead’s remains, netting her a new, unbroken short sword.
Bronze Shortsword
A short sword sharpened on both edges of the blade and with a tip for stabbing. A common sword used often as a sidearm by town militias. This one is made of bronze.
A wild flash of images and impressions danced across her mind. Some were of stabbing, some of cutting, slicing and chopping. The sword enjoyed stabbing, or maybe Elia enjoyed stabbing. Yeah, she was definitely projecting.
“Better than the last one at leas–“
An electric fuzz crawled up her nerves and down her arm. A moment later, the hand holding her sword shot to Elia’s neck as if possessed. Elia couldn’t budge it on her own and she knew of one very evident suspect with sufficient motive, means, and opportunity.
Give. My. Body. BACK!
“You really want to do this, sweetcake?” With a calm voice and face almost approaching a sneer, she exposed her neck with a tilt of her head. “Go on. You wanted to, what, blackmail me into giving up my body? That’s a problem. I kinda need a healthy one. Lacking that, this one has been enough so far.”
It’s my body. MINE!
If she was trying to be threatening, Rye should have played better cards. The blade wasn’t even touching her skin.
“Uh-huh. And when you slit my – your, our – throat, then what? Are you gonna float on to the next person like some vengeful ghost and have them give up their body for you?”
A last heavy drop fell into the water with a plip. Elia’s right hand was trembling, giving all kinds of weird sensory feedback as Rye slowly relinquished control.
Another variable. Something to look out for in the future. A potential for unwanted accidents.
“That’s what I thought.” The blade of her foe, rusted and marked with frequent nicks, was a welcome distraction. She hefted it towards the sky, clear blue ringed by an impenetrable stormfront in the distance. “Now stuff it, today isn’t a day for drama, but for celebration. To progress! To finding the next checkpoint in this broke ass world, this medieval zombie apocalypse! To my froggy friend!”
“Ribbit.”
“–and, most importantly of all,–“ Elia filled her lungs to the brim and yelled towards the sky: “To the death of God! I know this is your fault, motherfucker! I’ll get you back for reincarnating me in this endless loop of limbo! I know how this shit works, just you wait! I’ll get a sword the size of Wisconsin and go Sephiroth your ass!”
You’re worse than a murderer. You’re a blaspheming lunatic. A demon, possessing the body of an innocent girl like a puppet. No morals, no ethics, no sense for justice. I bet y-y-you don’t even offer sacrifices to the gods o-or brush your teeth before going to bed!
“What can I say,” Elia shrugged, rolling her shoulders until they popped. “I’m a true anti-gnostic. Don’t worry, I promise I’ll give you your body back once I’ve spoken to the manager of this place. Until then, you’ll have to forgive me for being your designated driver.”
I will NEVER forgive you. You’re a menace, you’re a fiend. I hope you, you… have a bad day and… and step in grug shit.
They were going to get along just peachy; Elia could tell. With a smile on her face and armed with an unbroken weapon for the first time in a hundred loops, Elia exploded forth to explore this new part of the endless labyrinth and hopefully find a way out.