Orion woke to the smell of something delicious cooking. He stepped out of his tent into the brisk morning air to see everyone already awake. Thankfully, it was Shadow standing behind the counter of his kitchen this time. Honeypot was sitting next to Arika, who was watching suspiciously as Honeypot fed something to Femera in small bites.
Orion looked at Arika quizzically, who answered his unspoken question.
“It looks like Honeypot is finally good for something.” Arika glanced back at Honeypot as if she didn’t want to admit it. “He got a new profession, and Femera seems to like his treats.”
Honeypot scoffed. “She says I’m finally good for something—as if my true calling as the party’s fisherman wasn’t good enough. A profession as old as humanity itself. Long did our ancestors live off the sea, risking life and limb to provide for their compatriots.” Honeypot looked down at Arika, feigned disgust on his face. “You spit at the feet of our forefathers, Arika. You go too far this time. Too far I say-”
Whack.
“You dare hit me, the provider of nourishment? You, tamer of fires and cohorter of demons?” Honeypot jumped to his feet theatrically. “You dare hit I, the blessed bringer of food?”
“Honeypot,” Orion interrupted, “I’m here for your theatrics, but can I at least have some breakfast before we get too far into the diatribe?”
“As my glorious leader wills!” he responded with a deep voice, returning to his seat.
“Thank you. Did you really get a new profession, though?”
“But of course.” He leaned back and laughed dramatically. “Are you bewildered at my natural talent? My unparalleled potential? Ask not how I accomplished this task, for I am but a vessel of greatness. Simple words could not hope to convey—”
“He cut some fish up and put it on skewers by the fire,” Shadow said.
“And they turned into animal treats,” Arika added.
“Hey! When you say it like that—”
“When you say it like what?” Arika raised an eyebrow. “Like how it actually happened?”
“Exactly! You make it sound so simple!”
“Uhhhhm, that’s because it is simple, you idiot.”
“Bah!” Honeypot threw his hands up. “Fine, I remembered I used to go camping with my family. My dad would cook fish scraps and dry them by the campfire, then take them back to our dog as a treat. I did it with some fish I caught, and it granted me a new profession—Animal Nutritionist.” He glared at Arika. “There it is, all the pizazz and fun removed. Are you happy now?”
“Actually, yes. But only because I can feel how happy the treats are making Femera. Thank you, Honeypot.”
“Yeah, that’s what I—oh… you’re uh, you’re welcome. Finally, some gratitude.” Honeypot straightened his shirt and sat back down. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”
“… Animal Nutritionist?” Orion asked.
“That’s right,” Honeypot said.
“And no one here thinks that’s weird? Surely that can’t actually be useful…”
“Are you really surprised?” Arika asked. “Honestly, I’d be shocked if he got something that wasn’t idiotic as a profession.”
“Hey! Your animal is snacking on my treats as we speak! And it can be very useful, thank-you-very-much. I can befriend and calm wild animals, improve this little one’s mood…” Honeypot rubbed Femera’s head affectionately. “And it bothers Arika. That’s a triple-threat of usefulness, baby.”
“Just because it’s useful doesn’t mean it isn’t idiotic,” Arika said, “and it doesn’t bother me. Idiot.”
Orion looked at Gizmo, who was sitting slumped in a chair, looking exhausted. He could feel his familiar’s fatigue through the bond they shared, and he didn’t envy the little robot.
“How you feeling, buddy?”
“I feel as if stayed up all night and did not rest my circuitry.” Gizmo hummed flatly. “I will be fine, given time.”
“Thanks for last night. I know I really needed the rest. Will you be alright to travel today?”
“Hmmm. Yes. The idea of being hit by enemies appears to renew my vigor.” Gizmo looked up at Orion. “Do you think we will find any enemies today, Daddy?”
“Honestly, I hope not, but we might if you’re lucky.”
“Hmmmm. I am not too fatigued to know that the concept of luck is a derivative of humanity’s inability to assign blame to their own inadequacy. We either will or will not encounter enemies depending on definable parameters—parameters that I am too fatigued to know. This is troubling.”
Orion was caught off guard by Gizmo’s response, not knowing what to say.
“Great!” Honeypot said. “We’re all sad, and now even the robot is depressed.”
Arika snorted back a laugh, clearly trying not to give Honeypot the satisfaction.
“I lack the ability to feel depression.” Gizmo said. “Although, it does appear that I am programmed to emulate a human’s state of sleep deprivation. It is very unpleasant.”
“Ah, that’s the price we all pay for happiness, my friend,” Honeypot said with a wise air about him. “In order to feel happy when you’re getting beat up or exploded, you have to feel sad when you can no longer get experience by pranking your friends with sausages.” He sighed dramatically. “It is all in the contrast.”
“I do not believe that is how I work. I am programmed to—”
“AHHH! THE DUALITY OF MANKIND!” Honeypot yelled over the top of Gizmo.
Shadow brought over the breakfast he’d been making, and everyone wolfed it down. Orion felt guilty for rushing to finish the delicious food Shadow had made for them, but they had a town and people to save.
As he finished eating, a world-announcement arrived.
World announcement! A world boss has been defeated! The Baron of the Black Sands has been defeated, weakening the forces of the Black Sands Desert! Congratulations to the Bomb Squad for their world-saving achievement!
The announcement was a welcome one. Fener and the rest of the Bomb Squad had defeated the boss that lurked beyond the southern gate. Not much was said about the matter, lost in their own thoughts as they were, but Orion felt a great sense of relief.
The path out of the forest was clear of enemies, much to Gizmo’s disappointment. They backtracked along the path they’d taken into the inner forest. Any conversation they had was fleeting and shallow, everyone’s attention still—at least partially—focused inwards.
They were all still clearly reeling from the return of their memories. Orion felt a little better than yesterday and was doing his best to focus on the tasks ahead of them. They had only one path forward, and if Orion wanted to protect his friends, he had to grow stronger—they all had to grow stronger. He focused on each step he took, and felt the contact of his feet touching the ground with each stride, not letting himself remember and ruminate.
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After they ascended from the underground passage, they took a different path than they had previously. Their path in to the forest had curved to the north substantially, and they had no time to waste. There was a possibility of finding more creatures, but they were confident in their ability to kill anything that came their way—especially with the offensive upgrades they’d received since their trek in.
After a few hours’ travel, their fresh path led them into something unexpected. There was a tree ahead that differed completely from the others of the forest, and as they approached, they realized it wasn’t a tree at all—it was a building in rudimentary disguise. It had brown-colored material similar to cement that was covering every surface. Orion peeled back a broken chip and saw that the tower was made of the same stone bricks that comprised the underground structure.
“Well, that’s something,” Honeypot said, appearing beside Orion.
“How old do you think it is?” Orion asked.
“I’d guess almost as old as the underground tunnels. Look at how weathered this stuff is.” Honeypot scratched at more of the cement-like render, and it crumbled away with ease.
“The real question,” Arika said, coming up behind them, “is if we go in or not.”
“Suuuurely we have time to do a little looting… right, Shadow?” Honeypot asked.
“Well, I mean, it is only a small tower,” Shadow said. “It couldn’t take us too long to check it out… right?”
“Precisely!” Honeypot nodded along. “It couldn’t take us too long at all. Orion, what say you?”
“What about me, idiot?” Arika asked. “You only want to ask the boys?”
“Orion is the glorious leader and would give us a majority vote, but mostly, I knew it would annoy you.” Honeypot beamed at Arika, who glared back. “Alright, alright, what do we think, Orion and Arika? To loot, or not to loot? However, know that you will crush Shadow’s hopes and dreams if you decide not to loot.”
“It’s true.” Shadow nodded. “I feel them getting crushed even now, just thinking of the possibility.”
“I’m fine with it,” Arika said bluntly.
“Ugh! All that fuss, and you were fine with it?” Honeypot demanded.
“Maybe if you asked next time, instead of excluding me by default, you would have known,” Arika said. “You, of all people, should know how it feels to be ignored.”
“Ouch… borderline too soon.” Honeypot leaned back as if struck. “Orion, what do you say?”
“Let’s check it out,” Orion said. “We could get more information.”
They walked through the stone archway that led to the interior of the tower. It was clear immediately that it had stood there unmolested for decades, if not longer. The bottom floor was strewn with wooden furniture, all of which was swollen and misshapen from the innate humidity of the forest.
Every wooden surface was covered with mold, the microbial life taking over the life that had once existed in the tower. There were the remains of books and paper strewn atop a large wooden table. Curious, Orion walked over and picked one up. It crumbled to pieces in his hand.
“Well, so much for getting more information,” Honeypot said. “The only thing we’re likely to get from in here is a bacterial infection.”
“Mold is actually quite misunderstood,” Shadow said. “Black mold is a problem, sure, but you won’t get sick from the spores of the mold growing in here.”
“I thought you said you were a chef. You get your memories back and all of a sudden you’re a microbiologist?” Honeypot raised an eyebrow in question.
Shadow shrugged. “Lots of different foods rely on mold or bacterial growth. Mold isn’t inherently a bad thing, blue cheese and kombucha being the obvious examples.”
“Kom-what-now? You don’t have to make up words to sound intelligent, Shadow.”
“Honeypot… do you really not know what Kombucha is?” Arika looked at him in confusion. “Where did you grow up?”
“Are you hearing this, Orion?” Honeypot looked around at the party, unbelieving. “You don’t know what kombucha is either, right?”
“I grew up in a country town in the middle of nowhere, and I still know what kombucha is. It’s a drink. Good for your health, fermented, tastes terrible, trendy, and overpriced… is this a bit, or do you actually not know what it is?”
“Oh, my apologies,” Honeypot said, bowing. “I was under the impression that this party was a party of the people—representative of the everyday folk, born without a silver spoon in their mouth, but doing their very best to survive.” He scowled at them. “As it turns out, this is a party of the rich elite, hiding in plain sight. Like trust-fund kids dressed in second-hand jeans and a plaid shirt, head adorned with a saggy beanie and drinking forty-ounce beers to fit in with their lower-class peers. You all disgust me.” He turned dramatically and made his way toward the stairwell. “Let’s go, Gizmo. We are beneath these people, and thus, we shall lead the charge.”
“It’s like… three dollars from a corner store, Honeypot...” Orion said, but Honeypot had already disappeared up the stairs.
“He’s feeling particularly theatrical today,” Shadow said.
“It’s actually a little comforting,” Arika said. “His annoying self is a pleasant distraction.”
“Oh-ho-ho, you find me comforting, do you?” Honeypot reappeared from Stealth in front of them, a wicked smile on his face. “Finding comfort in other men, tsk-tsk. What will poor Orion think?”
“Oh my god, shut up.” Arika blushed furiously. “You’re still an annoying idiot, Honeypot. I’m just glad you’re being yourself.”
“As long as I am appreciated, I suppose I can live with being the only representative of the everyday person in the party. You lot do seem like good folk—for tyrannical oppressors of the people, that is.”
They made their way up the stairs from the first floor to find the inside of the tower empty, except for a stairwell winding up around the inner wall. Orion looked up at the ascending stairs. There was no handrail to hang on to, and there were gaps of open air between each protruding step. He really didn’t look forward to climbing them. He reminded himself that he could literally teleport himself to safety, but that did little to assuage his nerves.
They slowly and carefully made their way up, Orion doing his best not to look down. The stone that made up the wall looked as though it could have been mined yesterday, the solid material undamaged by the passage of time, protected as it was.
They finally reached the top of the stairs and found a stone door. With a solid push from Shadow, it slid open smoothly.
Stepping through the doorway, they found a square room with a squat bed, a three-tiered dresser, and another door on the opposite wall. Orion opened up the dresser, which turned out to be a filing cabinet. There were sheets and sheets of paper, all too faded or damaged to be legible.
Shadow opened the other door as Orion was looking through the papers of the second draw, trying to find a single line of information.
“Woaaaah,” Shadow said, as light burst into the room.
Orion looked over to see sunlight beaming in. The rest of the party stepped through, so Orion rushed to join them.
He stepped through the door into warm sunlight, squinting against the bright assault. There was a balcony outside, made of the same stone material. When his eyes adjusted, he could see a sea of green leaves and a clear blue sky. They were atop the canopy of trees, the serene vista before them taking Orion’s breath away. The air was warm, the ever-present humidity still there above the tree-line. The sea of trees stretched as far as the eye could see, no mountains or landmarks tall enough to reach their line of sight.
“Beautiful…” Arika said, staring out from the very edge of the balcony.
Orion looked at her and saw tears sprout at the bottom of her eyes. She wiped them away, and he was once again filled with the urge to help her. He would do anything to fix her sadness, but he didn’t know how. He wanted more than anything to ask what had happened—to hear her story, so that he could better understand her and what was causing her pain, but he knew that to be a selfish desire. As Honeypot had said, he had to wait for her to share it willingly. He looked away from her and out at the sea of trees once more.
“It is beautiful,” he agreed. “I certainly never saw something like this in our old world.”
Arika didn’t respond, and when Orion looked back at her, the tears had started to fall. He immediately felt like an idiot, knowing he had said the wrong thing.
“Arika—I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” She turned and walked back inside.
The rest of the party followed her. As they were making their way back through the room, Orion stopped feeling sorry for himself long enough to remember that he hadn’t checked the third drawer of the dresser. He did so, finding more of the same crumbling and blank papers. Right at the bottom, beneath a stack of blank paper, was a book.
He picked it up, looking it over carefully. It said ‘Diary’ on the front, and he opened it, flicking through the pages before descending the stairs to the ground below. The edges had been ruined by humidity, even locked away in the filing cabinet as they’d been. Most of each page was intact and legible, however, the main body of writing was untarnished by time.
He read a page, and it seemed to be an account of someone that had been involved in the experiments that spawned the monstrous creatures. It detailed mundane aspects of their life, but also delved into the morality of what they’d been doing. Evidently, some workers—this person, at least—also found it as morally questionable as Orion did.
It seemed as though the person had been signing off at the bottom of each page, but their long entries always meant that the signature was within the portion that was ruined. He flipped through, not expecting to find anything. He found a passage right toward the end of the diary that was short enough for the signature to be visible.
Day 1161
Today is the day. We have tempered our resolves, and are ready for whatever comes. It’s time to start the plan. Only time will tell if it comes to bear fruit, or if it leads to our deaths.
Time will tell…
The name at the bottom made Orion’s eyes bulge, and his mouth hung open in shock. Honeypot came over to look, also seeing the name signed in rushed, squiggly writing.
“Is that… is that who I think it is?”
“I believe so.” Orion slammed the book closed. “Someone has some explaining to do.”
His anger flared, thinking back on all of their interactions. He quickly doused the building fury, knowing that he should at least let him defend himself—he owed him that much, at least.
Orion took one last look, burning the signed name into his memory. He mused on the fact that four little letters could bring so much into question. His teacher had been correct, after all.
You really couldn’t take some things back once seen or heard.