“…it all just illustrates that we have no business poisoning our minds, or the minds of our children. Violence. Sorcery. Sacrilegious idolatry. The moral degeneracy evidenced by these role-playing games is reason enough to denounce them.”

—Excerpt provided by The Congregation of the Eye

I could hear the fairy muttering before she even reached the boat.

‘’This is no”—puff—“way for a dungeon”—gasp—“core to behave.”

A light whiffle of wind caught the elongated sail of her wings and shoved her sideways; the lack of mass making her as dispersible as a wind-borne seed. But she continued on, with both flight and complaints, as if the sudden trajectory change was something she had gotten used to.

“Ten years of training…top of my class…able to choose my assignment…nice little dungeon, they said…and then this.” She puffed out her cheeks and blew out an exasperated raspberry.

Unfortunately, her distraction sent her into the path of an outstretched rope. It led down from the front of the boat to a floating reed crate that I had been puzzled by since it had been thrown overboard at the beginning of our journey.

And, at half her width, it should have been impossible for her not to see.

The impact made the fairy squeak, and I winced in anticipation of her broken body falling into the Nile, destined to be gobbled up by some lucky fish, but she proved equal to the task of saving herself. She wrapped herself around the rope and, after a short pause to recover, wriggled caterpillar-style up to the front of the boat, cursing its makers as she did so.

“Humans…why do they leave things…lying around? Could’ve…killed me.”

She disappeared in the dip of the rope just beyond where it was attached to the boat, but I could still hear her.

“Little snot must be…around here somewhere. He and I“—and an itty-bitty hand appeared on the wood, granting her the leverage to pull the rest of herself up—“are gonna have…words about this.”

Do you think she’s talking about me? Bert asked apprehensively.

I eyed the tiny body that had collapsed face-first onto the deck when she’d finished her sentence. You’re afraid of her?

She could be an adventurer searching for a power core, he said defensively. I am an extremely valuable acquisition to the right player.

That is not a player. There was no option in the avatar creator for fairy; I would’ve remembered. Besides, I think even I can protect you from someone that small.

The fairy used her arms to push herself up slightly and I tensed. Despite my boast I was a little wary. Power is not dependant on size. A lone atom can wipe out whole cities. A diamond ring can wreck a solid relationship. And tiny people can take on huge foes if they carry the right weapon. If she leapt to her feet and whipped out a wand, à la fairy godmother, I wouldn’t hesitate to kick her overboard.

But the fairy merely used the leverage to roll herself onto her back and stare up at the sky. “This has got to be the worst week of my life.”

I couldn’t help empathising. I, too, had had a difficult week. Poisoned, chased by monsters, attacked and abducted; there was very little the game could have done to me that it hadn’t done. Hell, there was even a parasite leeching away my health points.

A parasite that was growing rapidly, I noticed as I reflexively checked my UI. The debuff was eating pts at twice the rate of its original incarnation.

I should probably do something about that.

More worryingly, my RL health bar had slipped into the red zone; probably related to the thirst that no amount of water or—more recently—beer (the Egyptians seemed addicted to the stuff) could assuage. A symptom that my real body was beginning to dehydrate. Evidently, the recycling unit was reaching its limits.

And there was nothing I could do about it.

I shoved my concerns aside to focus on the more immediate issue of our fairy stowaway. Who, now that I could see her up close, was so cute I wanted to introduce her to Barbie. Or, better yet, Tinkerbell.

Though this fairy would have been dwarfed by both. Only the height of my middle finger, her wings were larger than she was, rising from just above her ankles to around two centimetres above her head. They had a slight blue tinge; vein-like striations shimmering with the kind of bioluminescence most commonly seen in the darkest depths of the ocean, and were divided into four segments, similar to that of a butterfly.

The crystal blue theme continued with her dress, which was composed of leaf-shaped lengths of skirt, a yellow-flowered belt, and an upper part that was sheer almost to the point of requiring pasties.

Which led me to my next observation.

Girlfriend was chubby. A welcome sight in an industry obsessed with constructing the ‘perfect’ form.

(And the perfect form, according to the world’s media, regardless of the artistic genre or medium—anime, fashion, even advertisements—invariably includes a tiny waistline. Why stay big if you don’t have to? seemed to be their motto. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a setting in any avatar creator that would allow a person to make some realistic pudge.) It was just one more reason to doubt she could ever be a player.

She reached up to wipe aside a lock of hair that had stuck to the sweat on her forehead. “I know you’re there,” she said, though her eyes were still closed. “Stop hiding and face the music.”

I could feel Bert shift back farther into the base of my neck. Hiding. It was almost funny how scared he was. Mind you, that tone did remind me somewhat of my own mother’s warning growl. Explosion, it implied, was imminent.

After a short pause her eyes popped open, and she groaned a very familiar groan as she pushed herself to her feet, cursing momentarily as the bottom part of her wing got caught between her toes. “Damn things. I could have gone millennia without having to use my wings, but no, you had to—“

She suddenly leapt from the deck and shot into the air, landing on my chest before scrambling up to my shoulder.

What the fuck!

I squealed and tried to brush her off, but she was quick and agile, dodging around my hand like she had the senses of a housefly. When she finally arrived at my neck I had to stop flailing, afraid of dislodging Bert. Instead, I used my thumb and forefinger to snag her by the dress and tried to lift her up to my eyes. I failed. Her grip on my hair was too strong.

“Foolish human,” she muttered, before heat seared my fingers and I was forced to let her go.

She recovered instantly, swinging back again by using my hair as her own personal mode of travel. Tarzan himself would have been envious. She was clearly persistent, with a perplexing lack of fear of being hurt. A solid slap with my hand determined why.

It rebounded against a solid oval, like a bigger version of Bert, instead of the squishiness of an invertebrate.

“Mana getting low,” she said worriedly, and I realised that not only was she employing magic to protect herself, but that she also didn’t know I could hear her. “Have to stop soon. Stupid humans and their irrational fear of insects. What possible harm could a moth or dragonfly do to them? Biggest wimps on the planet.”

Now, while I could certainly see her point, I couldn’t help but feel offended. She certainly didn’t have a very high opinion of my species.

“Ha! Got you!” she crowed, but I could feel Bert sliding away. Unfortunately, the AI had very little room to manoeuvre, restricted as it was to the bouffy length of my hair and too conscious of our situation to come out and be seen by the people crowded onto the boat.

Actually, now that I thought about it, I was surprised that no one was already questioning the arrival of what was clearly a supernatural being. In fact, the only people who seemed interested were the two boys who had already been watching me. And even they were being laid back about it, talking to each other between glimpses.

No squeals of discovery, no reaching for weapons. Not even a flyswatter.

It led me to the conclusion that the fairy had camouflaged herself in some way that didn’t affect me. She had mentioned something about insects. Maybe that’s all anyone else could see.

And the sudden flailing of a woman with a moth caught in her hair wouldn’t occasion much comment. Especially from someone who was both a foreigner and already known as an eccentric.

“What are you doing, you little…run away from me, will you…” She rustled around some more. I was just glad she didn’t have a machete, or I suspect I would have suffered an extreme haircut.

Arline…

“What’s that? Are you talking to the human?” The fairy sounded appalled. “Have you forgotten the first rule of dungeon survival? Do not communicate with adventurers. I shouldn’t even need to teach you that one. It should be hard-wired into your instincts.”

Help me!

“Even worse! Now you’re lowering yourself to begging for her protection. The indignity!” Then her tone changed to a menace that promised pain. “Has this human captured you? Enslaved your soul? Is that why you were no longer in your assigned dungeon?”

I felt a pinprick as something jabbed against my scalp. I froze uncertainly. While a pin can’t normally do a human any harm, one being plunged into my brain might just be the exception.

“Do I need to rid the world of this foul monster?”

Hey!

I could feel Bert suddenly reverse himself. Don’t harm her! Or…or…

“Or what?”

Or I will obliterate your code from the face of this earth!

“Big talk from a Level 10 rogue core.”

Who are you? WHY CAN’T I SEE YOU?

“I am a Dungeon Fairy. More to the point, I am your Dungeon Fairy. Sent to teach and assist you in your mission to train and kill adventurers. Which would’ve begun a week ago if you hadn’t suddenly disappeared. Now, prove you aren’t this woman’s vassal and join with me. My arms are a little weak right now and my sword might…just…slip—“

The pin—sword?—dug a little deeper and I couldn’t keep an indrawn hiss from escaping.

Right. Okay, Bert said hastily, edging even closer. But…join? I don’t know what you’re referring to.

“At the top of your vision is an image of two people shaking hands. Select it and follow the prompts.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

I see. Bert was sounding less scared and more excited. I’ve done that. Now wha— Oh, wow.

I can now talk to you through our soul bond. Her mind-voice sounded smug. Everything you think or feel is now accessible to me.

What? I don’t— NO! Bert suddenly shouted. It was decisive, a titan angered into taking action.

“What are you doing?” She sounded frantic, and her face had gone a deathly shade of pale. “You can’t shut me out, I’m here to help you!”

By helping yourself to my memory banks. Keep your fairy fingers out of my servers.

“I don’t understaand…” she wailed uncertainly, then dropped her sword and burst into noisy tears. “This was supposed to be my dream career, and it’s ruined!”

——

“Oh, fuck.” Gus abruptly pushed back his hapsuit’s hood.

“What happened?” Todd asked anxiously.

“The core kicked me out. I only managed to save a partial sample of its code before it got scared and blocked me.” Gus sounded shaky, a condition Todd wouldn’t have believed the man capable of.

“Bummer,” Terrin offered.

“You don’t understand.” A smile began to form. “This is fantastic.”

“Fantastic? How?” Todd questioned.

“Not only does it confirm that the core is the AI, but it got scared! This is ground-breaking!”

“Ground-breaking in a ‘I know how we can help Arline’ way, or—?”

“Do you realise what this means? It means I have created an actual artificial intelligence! Not simply a complex computer program. The next step in our evolution!”

“Ah…pretty sure you need it to be human to do that.” Terrin again. “Like with a mommy and a daddy who love each other very much.”

“Or a human creator.”

“You’re comparing yourself to a daddy that’s just popped out a digital sprog? Not sure you’ve sussed out the whole reproduction thing properly. In more ways than one.”

“Or that your priorities are in order,” Todd added reprovingly. “Woman trapped, remember? In need of our help.”

Gus visibly deflated. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. I should explore Bert’s potential later.”

Todd noticed that for the first time Gus was using the name Arline had given the AI. Maybe he now saw it as deserving of a title; its personality and independence granting it some of the traits of a human in his eyes. Todd just hoped he stayed on track.

His own attention shifted to the fairy crying on the right hand screen. The left was blank, until this point displaying a vid from the viewpoint of the fairy. It was a relief to be cut off, frankly. Her high-speed aeronautics had proved dizzying.

Gus moved to his tabscreen. “At least we’re still receiving communications. We’re blocked from deep diving, but messages sent and received are still coming through, if only in text. That means the dungeon link is still up.”

Todd moved behind him to see the screen, but was careful not to get too close. “How does that help Arline?” He had a suddenly thought. “Can we message her through Bert?”

“No, it doesn’t work like that. As I said earlier, I have no direct control of the fairy, only access to her data. I didn’t have time to change her directives.”

Todd frowned. Something wasn’t sitting right. “Where did you get her?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve explored a lot of Age of Deception and I’ve never seen a Dungeon Fairy before. You imply that she was already created before this situation occurred…so where did she come from?”

Terrin’s face altered—admittedly not much—into his Excited Boy expression. “It’s from Dangerous Dreams, isn’t it? You spliced the character from the new game into the old. That’s fucking awesome!”

Gus’ lack of reaction told Terrin he was right, but a knock at the door interrupted his brother’s fan-freakout before it could truly begin. When Gus unlocked the door and poked his head out, Todd could hear him speaking to Drake, the CEO’s PA. Then the door shut abruptly, with Drake left outside.

“Turn on the NZNewsOnline stream,” Gus commanded. “One of the journalists apparently saw a happed foot on the couch and called it in to police.”

Todd hurried to obey, setting the display size to wallscreen.

The initial image was of a giant hand, starfished over the lens of the vidcam, with the word LIVE pasted below it. It recorded enough lines to render the man’s entire life public if a palmist was watching, before shifting as the camera person stepped back amongst a navy blur, and soon a dark cloth appeared to buff the greasy hand smear off the lens.

Next, a person’s head came into view. A perky twenty-something who looked a little frazzled.

“As you can see, the police are currently preparing to access a door. Believed to belong to Arline Johnson, the first woman ever to be trapped inside the digital world.

“Behind them—” and the camera obediently shifted to a group of people in orange high-vis, “—medics are waiting to enter her residence and render emergency first aid. She is expected to be weak with dehydration and starvation, having spent the past week without food or additional water.

“We can only hope that the damage to—“ She jumped as the police used an electromagnetic ‘ram’ to forcibly bypass the door’s digital lock.

“We’re in!”

The camera panned through the resulting gap to show a small room with clothes and dirty plates strewn about the floor and furniture. One entire corner was occupied by piled boxes, and another with a stack of kitchen chairs. Food bags and boxes that hadn’t made it back into their cupboards were propped on various surfaces, mostly open and showing evidence of having been tipped over at some point.

Arline was clearly no housekeeper. The place was mouse heaven.

On the couch, amidst a Ground Zero of snack debris, lay her body, encased in a blue hapsuit and oblivious to their entry. The medics quickly shoved past the police, one carrying a gurney, the other a large tote bag, and they both nestled down beside her. The man who had carried the bag took her pulse through the suit and nodded to his colleague.

She was alive! Of course, they already knew that, but somehow the physical evidence of it made Todd’s own heart leap in his chest.

As the reporter solemnly explained, the main difficulty that the medics faced was that they couldn’t take her out of her suit. The shock of having the link severed could quite possibly damage her brain; like pulling memory from a computer while it was still in use. And even if they kept the hapmask on, a disconnect to the bodysuit would paralyse her in the game itself. With no way of moving anything but her face, she would be a sitting duck for anyone or anything that might want to kill her.

Luckily, all hapsuits had an emergency power bank that gave the wearer at least an hour before they shut down. They merely needed to take the recycling unit with them to the hosp—

Arline’s arm flopped, slapping against the medic’s shoulder as he rolled her, preparatory to moving her onto the gurney. Then her entire body tensed, a suddenly animated set of hands moving forward to explore the man’s chest.

Whereupon she ripped off her mask and screamed.

——

It seemed to take an age before we got the fairy, who had introduced herself as Gerdy, calmed down enough to talk to us again. Even then, we had to endure her horror as Bert explained my role in its life. Evidently, recruiting an adventurer as a mob boss was not done. Was not ethical. Was a pain in her tiny ass. She scolded Bert on his unorthodox approach to dungeon core organisation and blamed me for taking advantage of his fragile psyche.

As if.

When Bert explained that I was the only adventurer left, making the class pretty much defunct, Gerdy found his logic to be inadequate. In fact, she seemed to regard such a boring existence with wistfulness rather than dismay. Mind you, it probably did sound like a holiday to someone who had travelled halfway across the world on twenty centimetre wings.

She was also critical of my attention to Bert’s care, scandalised that he was living on a limited supply of twigs and leaves. She even suggested commandeering the boat, passengers and all, as a floating dungeon, with presumably the NPCs as supplemental nom-noms. I nixed that idea pretty smartly. Sitting around while a grossly enlarged Bert lolled about on a cushion like a rounder version of Jabba-the-Hut did not appeal.

The bossy fairy had finally compromised, albeit huffily. If I found a way to enable a continuous food supply, she would allow us to travel. I was unsure that she had the power to stop us, but as I certainly agreed that the goal was a desirable one, I didn’t argue.

After all, Bert seemed to want to keep her around. The AI’s initial hostility had morphed into an inexplicable curiosity. It seemed even digital tears had the ability to melt a person’s brain. Regardless of the fact that the construct in question had the personality of a buzzsaw.

“Well?” she demanded, arms crossed and foot tapping. “Why aren’t you fulfilling your master’s requirements? The fifty-first rule of dungeon-keeping states that as his second you are obligated—“

A hand reached over and slapped her away from my shoulder. The amazing part is that it wasn’t mine.

“The insects can get pretty bad on the water at this time of year,” one of the young men that had been checking me out all day volunteered. “Especially the mosquitos.”

My brows rose, and the silent boy beside him responded by shoving something into his brother’s chest and inclining his head in my direction.

“Takeleft and I were wondering if you needed a bug deterrent. Camphor oil is particularly effective, and we happen to have access to a generous supply.” His eyes smiled at me while he handed me the bottle.

1 x Bug Potion added to your inventory!

Is this boy hitting on me? I thought incredulously.

“And we can get other stuff. A whole range of products. So if there’s anything else you need, anything at all, we’d be happy to help. Isn’t that right, Takky?”

Takky nodded enthusiastically.

“Actually, there is something I need.” Never turn down a gift in any game; they may not offer it again.

(I once played an old Sierra adventure that exemplified that maxim. One of those serialised jobbies that straddled the line between text and point-and-click. It had been overly harsh in my opinion. You would think being abducted by a giant eagle would allow for a bit of leeway, wouldn't you? But no. I miss that one necklace and it's all ‘Game over, return to stage 1 to try again’.)

“Can you get me to the food stocks? I have some dietary requirements that aren’t being met.”

“Of course. A woman of your…exotic nature…is bound to be accustomed to exotic foods. I just hope we can find something familiar.”

“Just anything that hasn’t been prepared. Fruit, vegetables. Probably not meat.”

He craned his neck about in what he probably deemed to be a stealthy manner, then shoved his brother into place beside me.” Stay with the nice lady, Takky, and head for the container when I give the signal.”

With that, he darted away, presumably to reconnoitre.

I was left inside an awkward silence with someone that excelled at silence. I decided that it had to be broken before crickets began chirping. “Thank you for your help…Takky.”

A flood of red climbed up his throat and into his cheeks, and his eyes looked everywhere except in my direction. I had no idea if he was mute or just shy.

A whisper came from a nook to my right. Gerdy was crouched in a small aperture, clearly afraid to be around my large companion. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Getting what you asked for, I answered, hoping that the mind-voice thing would work on her. I had no desire to be overheard talking to large insects—not with my already shaky Rep.

Her recoil told its own story. “Oh, why?” she wailed dramatically, “why is this happening to me? Not only to have to listen to her mawkish whining, but now to hear her in my head?” She sagged, wings wilting against her sides.

Oh, for god’s sake.

One steely eye peeped out from beneath her brow.

Luckily, my boy Slick chose this moment to send his signal from the rigging; a gentle flap of his skirt that made me glad I wasn’t immediately beneath him. Which inspired Takky into action. He tipped his head sideways, indicating the direction he wanted me to go, and hovered protectively as we made our way down the boat.

Anhut appeared to be the only person who noticed my exit, and she frowned disapprovingly. God knows what she thought I was doing, but surely she didn’t think I was considering an assignation. Then again, perhaps she did. I had noticed that women held more power here than any other nation I had travelled through. Maybe she thought I was sowing my wild oats before being tied down by the Pharaoh.

The food container proved vast, and the assortment of fruit, vegetables, and dried meat truly mind-boggling. Practically any food that could be conceived of had been collected: onions, garlic, leeks, beans, lentils, peas, radishes, cabbages, cucumbers, pumpkins—

Wait. That’s perfect!

I stole five large pumpkins from the top of a pile and stuffed them in my Bag of Holding while the boys looked on in amazement. Which made me realise that I was, to them, carrying the equivalent of a small human, with no effort or unsightly bulges. Magical indeed.

Oh, well. It couldn’t be helped. And I doubted they were programmed to snitch. Based on their own activities, they weren’t exactly squeaky-clean themselves.

Then Amun showed up. Predictably. He’d probably seen us entering the food container and hurried over for his moment of glory.

“Ah, ha!” he cried triumphantly.

(I couldn’t help but disapprove of this NPCs speech writer. His dialogue was eye-rollingly trite.)

“Amun! There you are. Excellent timing as usual.” I ignored the armed man entirely and addressed Takeleft and his brother. “Thank you, boys, for giving me a tour of the ship, but now that the captain here has finally arrived, I’m sure he’ll escort me the rest of the way.”

Amun looked ready to burst. “I am not your escort. I am your guard. And you are to empty your bag and remove anything that you might have stolen immediately!”

Ever obedient, I handed it to him. “Gladly. You will see that I am many things,”—truth—“but I am no thief.” Lie.

A futile search of my bag and he was forced to let me go, a growl of frustration erupting from his throat as he pushed me towards the open deck.

“Just remember: I’m watching you.” And with that rather predictable threat he stalked away, back stiff.

“I know that,” I murmured to myself. “I just wish everyone else was.”

“Pardon, Ma’am?” Slick had followed me out.

It seemed I’d been upgraded from tempting exotic beauty to scary besom in the slip of a gourd. My little magic trick had ruined my sexy mojo. Funny; before now, making vegetables disappear had never really been one of more impressive talents. Chocolate…that was a whole different story.

“Just musing aloud. We do that a lot where I come from.” I’d never really considered before the advantages of blaming every instance of odd behaviour on my foreignness. I could probably do the chicken dance, call it a native ritual, and he wouldn’t even blink.

“Ah, of course. Many in our community share that custom. Anyway, find us if you need anything,” the NPC offered again, following his set piece. If he stayed true to form, the next time I asked for something it would involve a cost.

Monetary, of course. Sex happened in the digital world—of course it did—but not in this particular game. Probably because M had a bigger market than anything with an R- rating. Just as well, really. I doubt my heart would have survived being stuck in an endless orgy, or indeed, the embarrassment of being rescued from it.

I returned to the corner in which Gerty was still crouched (“About time”) and used my body to hide the bag while I retrieved a pumpkin.

“What’s this?” she hissed loudly. The man closest to me even looked around for a snake, before deciding I was even more insane than he’d assumed and backed away to talk to a friend.

Great. Why do I bother being discreet?

I dumped the vegetable to the deck. “This is your boy’s new food and transport.”

She frowned uncertainly—probably jealous she hadn’t thought of it first. Not to toot my horn or anything, but I’d been inspired.

It was the perfect ride for a spoiled princess. Positively decadent.

Hell, even Cinderella didn’t get to eat her own carriage.