My eyes opened to the sight of Ani’s belly as he very deliberately stepped across my face, his paw landing on my cheek and his soft fur brushing against my nose. I sneezed, then shouted as his claws sliced my skin. The cuts burned like fire, and red flashed across my vision.
I shoved Ani gently over on the bed, making my annoyance known as I rose to face the mirror, prodding my face. The wounds were deep, but Ani’s claws were so sharp that blood only flowed with the prodding. Between the salve I’d been given and a simple recovery spell, I figured it wouldn’t even be an hour before I was unmarred.
“.... like me! See?”
My hand froze in my pocket, where I’d been rummaging through the inventory. I looked around for the source of the childish voice, but there was only Ani. Had it come from the hallway? I opened the door and glanced around, spotting nothing. With a shrug, I went back to my task of cleaning and healing my wound.
I didn’t know why, but as I brushed the salve against my skin, I felt guilty and reluctant, as though I’d let someone important down. I shook my head, shaking the odd feelings off with it, and inspected my work.
Proud of myself, I twisted the cap back on the salve and shoved it back into my pocket, exchanging it for fresh clothes. I strung a hand through my hair, clearing it of any lingering Ani fur, and called said annoyance to my side with a flick of my hand. With a second flick of the hand, I exited my room, heading to the bar area where I’d planned to meet Sinbad.
He blended in well with the NPCs. I had to glance at the text hovering about people’s heads. Blocked by crowds of players trying to get some time in before school or work and the minimap rendered useless by icons, I whispered “menu” and scrolled to the settings, changing the color of the party text from a light gray, hardly distinguishable from the standard white, to a distinctive green. There.
Sinbad’s name popped out from amongst the crowd. I pushed my way through, finally spotting him in a small, quiet area up against the window to the outside. He raised an eyebrow as I approached, a silent laugh crossing his face as he slipped Ani a piece of bacon.
“The players giving you trouble?”
“There are hundreds of them,” I grumbled, shooting them all a dark glare. Countless messages flowed through the world chat that had appeared beneath the attack icons in the bottom left of my vision, most either spam or about joining guilds. The occasional question popped up, quickly overshadowed and often unanswered amongst the slew of other messages.
I skimmed through the messages, looking for anything useful. Perhaps something unusual, a signpost for the fragments. Nothing struck me.
Sinbad placed his coffee on the cup and coughed once.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Now that I had access to the usual game functions, I turned my attention so a second I’d never used while playing as Blaze–the friend list. Two pending requests sat in the inbox, from Black Cat and White Owl, respectivly. I accepted them, then pulled up the search function, typing in Cove’s name.
[Cove Doyle]
[Would you like to send a friend request?]
I tapped yes, then closed out of the menu, leaning back into my chair.
Sinbad looked at me questioningly, and I said, “I sent a message to Cove.”
Sinbad nodded in understanding, “I repaired my suit and sent messages to my companions myself, though I’ve yet to receive a response.”
In the novel, the ‘menu’ was simply an augmented reality powered by ‘futuristic’ technology embedded in the resident's clothes. Not only were the space suits able to constantly monitor their own health, presenting the information as hit points, but they had facial recognition and other features that were convenient excuses for the writer of Sinbad’s story to keep as much of the game format as possible.
Sinbad was a very patient man. He had to be, as many of his adventures required months of travel or for the alignment of certain conditions. If we weren’t yet seeing deviations from the novel, his companions wouldn’t be responding back anytime soon. Though he didn’t know it, They were all currently imprisoned by the King of the Black Isles, hidden away and blocked from all technology. Until they were set free, he wouldn’t receive a response.
“We should head back into the city today and work on the mission the Merchant sent us,” I suggested.
Sinbad’s eyes glimmered at the prospect of adventure.
“Any ideas on where to begin our quest?”
I considered, going over what I’d known. Unfortunately, I hadn’t gotten this far as Blaze, and between Agartha and prepping for leaving, I hadn’t had the time to memorize every possible quest in the game. There were thousands. If it hadn’t been released in the demo, I might have passed up the quest altogether, unknowing of the rewards.
“We need to speak to the inkeep first. Perhaps I’ll remember more afterward.”
Sinbad patted Ani twice on the head, then stood, standing patiently off to the side as I climbed far less gracefully out of my chair. I took a sharp breath in through my nose, then walked quite literally through the crowd, picking my path by looking for the cutscene indicator floating above their heads.
Yesterday, this had been terrible. Today, it dulled in comparison to the feeling of losing control of my own body. Sinbad and Ani followed close behind, unrestrained by the crowd.
The Inkeep glanced up from where she was scrubbing the table. She placed her hand on her hip, and smiled. Her eyes blinked on a timer.
“You two certainly look more awake! How’d the rooms treat you.”
“They were wonderful, thank you,” said Sinbad earnestly, “I don’t know if I’ve ever had such delicious food.”
He had, of course, though it’s not like Sinbad ever intended to lie. He enjoyed seeing others smile almost as much as he enjoyed exploring forgotten ruins, and exaggerations would often slip out of his mouth. It had gotten him into plenty of trouble in the novel, trouble which I hoped to avoid here.
It was as though she fell from her programming. Her movements became more fluid, and her eyes blinked like normal. She laughed and smacked his arm lightly with a towl. “‘Careful, or my husband might start to get jealous.”
“I only speak the truth, Ma’am.”
The Inkeep laughed again. “You’re saving my husband–there’s no need for flattery. Call me Jasmine.”
“Jasmine, then,” Sinbad said with an easy grin.
“People come far and wide to stay at your inn here,” I interrupted, bringing the conversation back on track. “Has anyone been telling any interesting stories lately?”
The light behind her eyes died. “I hear a lot of interesting stories. Our local storyteller may have a better idea of what you’re looking for. He spends a lot of time in the park.”