Bright light tried to burrow its way into Mark’s skull. Confused, he briefly wondered why Hunter’s basement was so bright. Something tickled the back of his neck; he rolled over, brushing it away to go back to sleep.
Hopefully, he could change the nightmare he’d just dreamt of. Somehow, a fireball he had cast had exploded close to him and killed him.
“Fuck,” Mark woke up and sat upright. He was sitting in the middle of a clearing. Next to him, instead of three naked teens, there was Jax, still wearing his armor, still splattered with blood.
Mark’s charred clothing barely covered him, but his skin was unbroken. Next to each of them, a backpack lay in the grass. Mark reached over and shook Jax.
“Jax, are you alright?” Mark said. He gave another little shake before scooching back to the backpack near him. Opening it, he pulled out a fresh shirt and pants and got dressed while reviewing the memory of the battle and events leading up to it. The conclusion is that they were not prepared for so many guards or fighting the King.
Standing up, he couldn’t see anyone else lying down nearby; it was just him and Jax. A minute passed before Jax sat up.
“Furcas lied to us; we are still stuck here,” Mark said once his friend woke. “Maybe we failed, but where is everyone else? I thought he said no more respawning separately.”
“We didn’t fail,” Jax said. He slowly stood up and stretched before grabbing the backpack. “There are some things I need to finish.”
“Wait, where is everyone, and how do you know we succeeded?” Mark said.
“After your fireball exploded, I prayed for the ultimate sacrifice; when it was successful, it weakened Bartolo enough for Reggie, Todd, and Henderson to kill him. Since we were dead, we were not transported back to our world.” Jax turned and looked at Mark. They were all within a few months of each other in age, but Jax looked much older.
“Ultimate Sacrifice?” Mark said.
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“Sacrificial Consecration, where a paladin gives their own life and soul up to sanctify an area of extreme evil.” Todd looked at his hands, which were covered in tiny writing. “My God accepted my sacrifice, but since I’m still alive, I owe a great debt that I must now pay.” Jax started walking away from Mark.
“We got to wait for the rest of the group. They’ll come back, and we’ll work out how to get home.” Mark said.
“I’m not going back. You can join me if you wish to help do good in this world and forsake the forbidden magic. Don’t lie; I could smell the rot when you used necromancy.”
“Forbidden magic? I…” Mark paused and looked Jax in the eyes. “I admit I pushed the limits to try and ensure we got out of here. In the end, it screwed me over.”
“I can sense you’re not evil, and for the sake of our friendship prior and future. Join me in saving this world. Help me make it a better place. If our friends come back, then they’ll come to a utopia; if they don’t, then we’ll save the lives of millions.”
“Jax, this is a game, it isn’t real.”
“Perception is reality, and actions taken here still reflect what is inside you.” Jax took a deep breath and looked at each other for a minute. As the moment passed, Jax stepped forward and hugged Mark. “Until we meet again, my friend.”
“May your shoulders never carry the weight of the miles you walk,” Mark said.
Jax gave a rare smile before turning and walking off into the woods. Mark waited for his friend to disappear before sitting down and letting the thoughts of being stuck here forever intrude.
Reaching into his backpack, he grabbed some rations and a bedroll. Settting the bedroll nearby, he tried to gather mana to start a small fire. He pointed his finger at a previously used firepit and threw a small ball of flame at it.
Or tried to, but nothing came out. With a sigh, Mark gathered mana again and repeated the steps. Still, nothing flew out.
“Fuuuuck,” He sighed before singing, “if at first, you don’t succeed,” and tried a third time.
There was still nothing. Glancing around, he verified that no one was nearby, so he quickly tried to pull up the Combat log.
Nothing appeared, no words, no letters, only a sense of dread.
“FURCAS!” Mark yelled and waited in silence. “Fuck, fuck, fuckity,” he got an idea. Mark reached into his backpack and pulled out his character sheet.
Name: Mark (Mark) Redding, Race: Human
Ht: 5’10, Wt: 160, Sex: Male, Class: Wizard (Necromancer) 9
HP: 52 / 52
Stats:
Strength 12 (+1)
Dexterity 15 (+2)
Constitution 16 (+3)
Intelligence 19 (+4)
Wisdom 14 (+2)
Charisma 9 (-1)
“No fucking way,” Mark said. “Jax, wait a sec.” Mark stood up and ran in the direction Jax had left. Once he got to the woods, he saw no sign of his friend. “Jax! Jax!” He called into the woods.
Reaching again into the backpack, he tried to pull out a spellbook.
Nothing.
He tried pulling out a book.
Nothing.
Scrolls, grimoire, journal, tome, ledger, paper, and papyrus. Nothing appeared. With a heavy sigh, he started reviewing his character sheet. In the back of his mind, he wondered how difficult it would be to get spells in a world that previously didn’t write them down.
The last line in his feats brought a smile back to his face; he wasn’t completely screwed.
Spell Mastery (Ray of Enfeeblement, Vampiric Touch, Detect Magic, Orb of Fire.)
Now, he just needed to find a way to survive, wait for his friends to return, and then drag Jax back to reality.
Until then, he needs to sleep, memorize, and abuse the fuck out of the game.
—- The End —