With a start Elia woke from death, greeted by the pale blue sky as she lay next to the checkpoint, the bowl of respite. She shot up to her feet, missing not one second before submerging her entire head in the bowl of fruity lemon water.
“Oh BOY! Oh MAN. Gosh darn golly gee dang. Wowza, what a death that was, eh Rye? You got a good one as your first, isn’t that right Quibbles? Nothing like a high velocity impact to wake you in the morning, EH QUIBBLES?”
She practically tore the sleepy toad from his bag filled with muddy leaves, a confused croak escaping his lips before Elia started kneading him like dough. Quibbles did not want to be bread and managed to struggle his way out of her grip and back into the pocket.
But that was fine. Everything was fine. So, so, so fine.
She unmuted her death penalty notification, calculations flying crisscross inside her head as she drummed up as much gusto as was artificially possible.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 14 min
“RYE! My bestest of brain buddies, what do you say? How was the flight? Did you enjoy the view?” With her best melodramatic voice, she added in a whisper, “Do you believe me now?”
Silence was the only answer. It was to be expected. Rye was possibly the toughest single person crowd she’d ever met. She’d barely even laughed at a single one of her jokes. Who even did that? No one could resist every single one of her rapid-fire strings of nonsense and half-sense.
“I’m gonna count to three and if you don’t say anything I’ll take that as permission to go do my thing. Ooone. Twooo…Three.”
Nothing. Silence once more. Elia rolled her shoulders until they popped.
“Oh boy, here I go killing again.”
And off she went, sprinting ahead past the toppled lion statue and onwards to unexplored lands. It was in this rough direction that she had landed and thus where her souls and, more importantly, her bone shards could be found. The emphasis leaned heavily on that ‘could’, as it still was quite the distance and she’d have to navigate her way there.
Actually, now that she thought about it, landing this close by was oddly convenient. Almost like something meddled with the chances for this exact line of events. Could it be that the sacrifice of one precious bone shard to whatever force accepted it really had a tangible benefit?
…nah, Elia would rather believe in coincidences than benevolent omnipotence.
“I wonder if I could replicate it. If I found a way to aim my zone of impact, I’d get a free deposit of all my stuff right next to my checkpoint. If I survived it, that would basically be my ticket out of here. I wonder if the effect of the beetles stacks?” She casually stabbed an undead in the back, mostly because it had the poor fortune of looking exactly the wrong way at exactly the right time. “Thoughts for later. For now, Rye, don’t think that giving me the silent treatment again is going to win you any brownie points. I meant it when I threatened you with Christmas jingles. I’ll fuckin’ do it.”
Elia stalked over a line of very uneven ground, fallen bricks and stones making every step a possible ankle-bender when she realized that she was being an idiot. Rye wasn’t there before the last checkpoint and time had turned backwards, as time was wont to do whenever it saw her die. It was flattering, or would have been had there not been a growing pit sinking deeper into her stomach.
You have used: Psychometry [Uncommon] [Essence of Ego]
The moment she dared to use one hand on herself to activate the boon, an undead with a kettle hat stabbed her in the chest from around a corner. The attack glanced off her armor, but the suddenness made her misstep and tumble over, grabbing onto her attacker and pulling them onto her in the same motion.
When she was face to face with a decaying, dried up militia man, a recognizable scream filled her head.
AAA-
“Glad to have you back too, Rye.”
–AAAAAAAH!
“One second. We’ve got a bit of. A. Situation. Here.” Her sword was stuck under the undead’s weight, but she punched it in the side of the head multiple times until her hand ached. It went slack atop her. “There. Handled.”
–AH! WHAT? Where? Who? Why? What is this? What IS this?
The poor girl was confused, but that was alright. Dying did that to people.
“As I was saying,” Elia huffed as she pushed the weighty corpse off her. Everyone underestimated the weight of a human body not supported by any muscle at all and her borrowed body was not of the strongest kind, but the weakest. She could do exactly one push up and was fairly certain that attempting to bench any respectable weight would tear something in her arms. “Enjoy the view?”
The what? I… I…
“Yes, I know, dying is a bit novel of an experience, but don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”
Rye was far from Elia’s own casual experience of dying, but she’d get there. It sucked to be her, but they were stuck together now. It was better than staying dead, Elia figured, and while the road ahead was long and arduous, finally, finally an end was in sight. She had glimpsed it from high above and there was no doubt: the way out was right ahead.
“I should climb walls more often, even if it kills me.”
WHY?
“Stone eagles say no to taking shortcuts. Also, these walls are quite high up. I died from a fall once, y’know. Wasn’t pretty either, absolutely ruined my afternoon. All in all, getting yeeted across the sky by a magical spider is an eight point five out of ten for me.”
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 12 min
“Oops, forgot we’re on a timer. Time to scoot.”
Taking two large breaths she stood up and continued her search at a jog. After less than a minute, another open area presented itself, though much, much smaller than the last one. Roman style arches stood arrayed in a circle in what must once have been a garden, though little more than withered stalks peeked from an assortment of wide and tall clay pots. A three storied fountain stood in the middle, thick carpets of dirty brown algae and duckweed hugging the tepid water’s surface. Broken remnants of walls crisscrossed the scene, and the air was filled with the quiet moans of at least nine undead variably sitting or lying on the cold stone floor.
Elia stopped at the entrance, crouching low as her eyes fell on a glowing orb sitting atop the fountain like a crowning star of gold on a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree that smelled like the worst parts of the worst harbor. Not losing her bone shards was a gift she was looking forward to, as was expanding her collection from the pockets of the idle figures all around. Preferably, they’d be dead-dead by then, though time was not on her side.
“Eleven minutes. Ten undead. This is gonna be a marathon and a puzzle. You like puzzles, Rye?”
Uh-huh.
“Good. I hate puzzles.”
Rye sounded, against all expectation, as calm and collected as she’d ever been, having shaken off her confusion. Delightful. Maybe now they could have a conversation and clear this room, together. Ooh, maybe Rye could give quick-witted combat commentary, point out weaknesses and… stuff. Actually, since she didn’t appear to enjoy violence, just narrating the scenery would be fine. Like a post-apocalyptic nature documentary.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“How good is your David Attenborough impression?”
Before you continue talking nonsense, I’m going to have to stop you right there. I have questions. Many, many questions.
“Go on.”
First, where the heck is this?
“It’s the endless maze. You know. Calm gray rocks lounging next to pools of clear water reflecting the silvery halo of stormless sky–“
Elia stopped as a group of three individuals stepped out from one of the three exits in the room. A crossbowman, two militiamen with shortswords – one of them carrying a shield – and a surprise fourth thing slinking out behind them. A dog, mostly colorless skin and patches of fur draped over hollow bones. Things just got a lot more complicated.
No, ok, yes. Thank you. Next question. What are you doing here?
“Trying to get out. We already went over my motivation for existence, didn’t we?” She adjusted her weight, watching the four patrol around the fountain once, past another lion statue marking the path forwards and then disappear into the left entrance. “But I’ve finally found it. The maze ends after just a hundred yards that way. After that, we can say goodbye to this recursive hell. I can finally eat a hamburger again and not just bugs and flavored water. There will be a soft bed, maybe even a roof over our heads.”
That sounds oddly… modest.
“A microwave meal would be a luxury. Or just a pack of noodles, uncooked.” She eyed the other undead lying about. Not a sign of life out of them, not until she got close. "Honestly, I'd go for some sidewalk chewing gum."
The patrol returned after exactly one minute of silence, walking left to right this time. That was not a lot of time at all, however, if she worked her way from right to left, she could fight them one after the other.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 10 min
“That’s our cue. It’s nerf or nothing now.”
Wait! I’ve got so many more questions, I–
“Shut. It’s action time. Call out if you notice anything off.”
Well, for one, that un–, I mean, that person to the right is looking this way.
Elia had indeed overlooked one undead lying right around the corner as she broke cover. The undead met her eyes. It stood up, brandishing a broken sword but by her experience she knew how sharp a broken sword could be.
Elia had just enough time to block the incoming stab with her armguards. The stab she gave in turn pierced the unarmored undead right through faded blue rags. With a twist of the blade, the body fell to the floor.
The scuffle didn’t go unnoticed as two more undead stood and turned on Elia. They stabbed and slashed or variably slashed and then stabbed and after a split-second decision, she narrowly took one of the slashes on her armor, dodged the other and closed in to her preferred range.
One undead fell and though the next proved more tenacious, it too toppled over after a slash cut its wrists.
Elia, panting and sown with a few shallow cuts, looked up and caught the patrol entering the room. They didn’t meet her eyes as she let herself fall to the ground behind a broken half-wall, staring at her latest victim’s lifeless face as she listened to the quiet footsteps walking on by.
T–they just attacked you! You didn’t even do anything.
“Uh, right,” she whispered. “They are baddies. We kill the baddies. You quiet while I kill baddy?”
I’m not twelve you, you… argh. I’ll just keep asking questions and you answer whenever you get a breather, alright?
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 9 min
“Sure,” she replied and got up, on to the next group.
This one was a smattering of four undead to the left, all arranged closely enough that Elia wasn’t sure she could stealthily kill them all. This left her with the next best tactic after stealth, namely speed and great violence.
Elia jumped the first one. It raised its head tiredly and with a mighty two-handed swing, Elia cut it right across the face, smacking it back onto the floor. The next one roused and Elia was just about to stab them more thoroughly when she noticed the last two grabbing for crossbows.
“Shit.”
She only gave it a hefty kick to the temple before diverting her attention to the third and fourth enemy. They raised their crossbows, but not quick enough as Elia tackled one to the ground and wrestled with it for brief seconds before slipping a blade underneath its ribs.
A whack to her head made her vision go sideways but Elia had the presence of mind to roll away and get back up in time to bat another swing of a wooden cudgel away with her sword, nearly knocking it out of her hand. She recovered a split second sooner and stabbed the sneaky undead in the chest. A twang rang out and she choked down a scream as a bolt slammed into her thigh.
T-the crossbow. To the right! Eep!
Rye had a good head on her shoulders as Elia was already reaching for it. Holding the gurgling undead with one hand as a shield she reached for the crossbow, aimed, and perfectly domed the last opponent between the eyes.
“All. Me. All. Skill.” She huffed before letting the club swinger fall onto her. She leaned against a wall and played dead as the undead dog entered at the front of the patrol. They passed so close by her that if she extended her hand, she would have been able to touch them with the tip of her sword.
Can I open my eyes yet?
She watched the patrol disappear and tried to stand, but failed. “S–sure. Ah, fuck, that stings.”
Are you ok? Do you need anything?
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 8 min
“A few minutes of rest.”
Oh. Is it ok if I continue asking you questions?
“Yeah, sure, fuck it.”
L-language! A loose tongue invites loose morals and loose morals open you up to the worst of sins.
“Oh yeah?” She focused entirely on her breathing as she pulled out the bolt, binding the wound swiftly with dirty rags. “Fuck, I’m dizzy.”
… rude. Questions then: So, I’ve noticed that you react pretty quickly to all these so called undead, almost like you know what they’re going to do beforehand. But then you stumble, because they’re bigger and stronger, but still you somehow manage to come out on top. How the heck are you so good at this?
“Practice.”
…that’s it? No boon? Not even a common one? I find that hard to believe.
“I fear not the man who has practiced ten thousand strikes once, but one strike ten thousand times.”
Wow.
Elia chuckled. Somehow, it was funny that all it took was a Bruce Lee quote to wow Rye. “I get all my quotes from the greatest master of all. The internet.”
I see. This Internet person must have been wise indeed. I sure wonder why I never heard of them. Were they a saint, perhaps a divine servant or minor god?
“You could say something like that. In my world.” The patrol came by once again and Elia let them. For all her swagger and confidence, being an undead was limiting. She didn’t have it as bad as the others, but that was like saying an amoeba had more situational awareness than a rock. Her stamina, strength and just about every part of her body was lacking and she only vaguely remembered that it was and wasn’t always like this. “I had to learn everything from the ground up, all the stabs and slashes and whatnot. It was difficult, y’know, I wasn’t the most physically active person on Earth. More of a shut in.”
On… dirt? So, you’re a barbarian then, from the land of dirt. Fitting.
“I– yeah, sure, let’s go with that.”
Next question: What is with your accent? It’s so weird.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 5 min
With a sigh, Elia fastened a wrap of cloth around her leg and shoved the corpse off of her. “Would you say it is out of this world?”
I, well if you put it like that then yes, yes I would.
“One plus one. You do the math.”
With that, Elia carefully walked on over to the remaining four. They were two groups of two and by the time Elia had reached the most armored militiaman she had ever seen, she regretted not looting the wooden club. Helmets were lifesavers up until blunt force turned her brain into a slushy.
Elia chose to double back for it, then smashed in the brains of the first undead before entering the most awkward swordfight she’d had since having to fight without both her arms. Escaping out of the undead’s reach was impossible with her wounded leg and so she went about parrying six or seven attacks until it finally whiffed one, allowing her to disarm and disembowel it.
“Ugh. Almost done.”
As she staggered over to the remaining two undead, ready for the worst fight yet due to wounds and exhaustion, she nearly barked a laugh as she realized that one of them wasn’t actually alive and the other only had a crossbow.
It died. The crossbow changed hands.
Time until lost items and souls dissipate: 4 min
“Aaand done. Woof. What an encounter.”
But there are still three left. And a dog.
Elia sat down, leaning against the withered lion statue as she waited for the patrol to pass by from the left.
“Nah. We can do them after we’re all healed up again. Now, we just need our souls, then loot this place and then we’re outta here.”
Awfully pre-planned for self-defense. Some might call it a bit… overzealous? Undead are humans too, you know.
“I’m surprised you’re not calling me a murderer or a demon brain bud.”
Demon? Murderer? I would never accuse someone so basely. Nope, not me, nuh-uh.
Finally, she was showing some sense. A small smile bloomed on Elia’s face. All it took was some sensible bonding over a collectively experienced near-death experience, followed by an actual death experience. They were going to have great fun together.
“Good to see you’ve changed your mind, my friend of finest feathers. I’m dishonorable, woe is me. I can live with that.”
Changed my mind? I don’t know what you mean, we’ve barely known each other for ten minutes.
A tenseness caught her by surprise, running from her toes curling up to her entire body.
“What do you mean, Rye?”
I’m sorry. I’m half convinced this is all a horrible dream and even then, everything seems so alien, so unfamiliar. Like you! You didn't even give me your name.
Something inside Elia dropped to the floor, then shattered like glass. But not her smile. Her smile held. And when the patrol didn’t enter from her far left but from right next to her, one word summarized all her thoughts quite well.
“Fuck.”