Volkiro hung his lantern over the hanging-hook just inside the shack, then made his way around the storefront bench.
As Volkiro faced them, he dropped two robe sets onto the countertop.
”Looking to protect yourself, or deal some damage?” Volkiro's hand moved from the lighter armor set on his left, toward the darker one on the right.
Caster looked over the sets, trying to figure which stats each of the outfits offered. One was a dull blue, the other was an even duller red.
Reminds me of being an Arena minion
Caster glanced up as something caught his eye. At the back of the shop, hanging from the wall was a third robe, its color was ash, and had the appearance of bleeding obsidian from it’s fringes.
“Those robes back there, what are they?” Caster pointed.
Volkiro turned, slowly coming to the realization that Caster was speaking of the cloth hanging on the wall.
“That? Those are Robes of Remembrance.”
“What do they do?”
“Ha!” Volkiro chuckled. “Oh, you’re serious? Those Robes are a bit of… a gag piece of armor. Upon putting the outfit, the wearer is cast back into the deepest recesses of their mind. It brings up deep secrets that have been forgotten, and can even reveal things that the user may not know that they know. The draw back is that the experience of remembering is very, very vivid. Very few are ever brave enough to ever wear it, as those that has say they literally returned to the past and had to re-live it. It’s hardly worth the effort, although it does give decent stats.”
“I’ll take it.” Caster immediately spoke.
That’s the kind of thing I’ve been looking for this whole time. If what Volkiro says is true, then I’d be able to go back and see what got me into this whole mess in the first place. I’d learn how I got put into The Arena!
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Are you sure? It can be quite intense, and most people aren’t mentally ready for combat or intensive training for days after the experience. These two robes would be much better suited for going off into the Badlands.”
“I’m sure. There’s something I need to remember before we leave. It’s very important.” Caster reasoned.
“Well, if you say so.” Volkiro wandered back to retrieve the wares.
“You sure about that Wendy? It’s gonna feel like you ate the wrong kinda mushroom and teetered off into a whole ‘nother place.” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, I’m sure. I’ve been waiting to find something like this for weeks now.” Caster looked back to the counter as Volkiro laid out the Robes of Remembrance.
“Thanks,” Caster grabbed hold of the fabric. To his surprise, it didn’t feel any different than how his other outfits did, save for the obsidian sections that were noticeably more firm than the ashen cloth.
“Be careful young lady, these Robes are nothing to be trifled with. But if you think you’re ready, feel free.” Volkiro gave a final warning.
”Trust me, I’m more than ready.”
Caster moved to place the Robes over his head, and slip the entire thing over the clothes Wendy was currently wearing. But as he did, time froze, and a blue box appeared in his mind’s eye.
Equip Robes of Remembrance and return to an earlier point in time?
As far back as you can take me, yes.
Robes of Remembrance - Equipped
Returning to Event Zero - The Conflux!
And with that, Caster’s consciousness was ripped from his body, and hurtled through time and space, back to nearly a century ago.
The stars re-aligned, and the infinite universe rewound, returning Caster to his apartment in on the outskirts of Chicago - Just moments before the arrival of the Blue Boxes, and the end of the Old World.
“Woah,” said Randolph, shaking his head as he watched his bruiser Challenger charge up the top-lane of The Arena’s map.
“What? Just looked at the enemy team’s comp? I’ve already marked this match as an L too.” His friend joked over their team call.
“No I just… got the weirdest sense of Deja Vu.”