I’m not certain that I have any friends. Prince Eric and Prince Dahr are my masters. Chari is a member of my guild, but she is so far above my station, I’m not sure it counts as a friendship. I have my familiars, of course, but I don’t know if I can call them friends. They serve me in the same way I serve my masters. I barely know Sam at all, and I know Zephyr even less. It’s hard to make friends when everyone is part of a different hierarchy. It would probably be easier if I knew where I fit in.

The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu

Eighteenth of Learning 1142

Queen Treya stood on a balcony overlooking the courtyard. She was in her private quarters. She barely ever set foot in here, preferring to spend time in the chambers she shared with King Terrance, but they were hers, an old custom that gave a woman somewhere to go should she wish to be alone. She wasn’t even sure why she kept the quarters. It was largely a waste of space. But today, she wanted both privacy and intimacy. And since she would be the sole ruler when Terrance marched off to war, she would have her own chambers.

Today she was meeting friends. It had been too long, but this wasn’t a social visit. Too many people were swept up in the war, and there was no one to replace them. Maynor was already gone and soon Leata would join him. King Terrance would go as well. Lord Ormund would be out of action for a very long time, perhaps forever. Much of the guard would be gone. Sheba had told her she would be ruling Twyl for the time being, but who would be left to rule.

There was a knock on the door, and she moved to answer it. There were no servants present. No guards. When she opened the door, two women stood outside.

“Lady Mere, Lady Trast, please come in.”

The two nobles entered, and as soon as the door was closed, they moved forward to embrace the queen.

“Everything is insane,” said Lady Mere, who was the shorter of the two. She was barely five feet, an attractive middle-aged woman who had never married. She had auburn hair, hazel eyes and the most perfect skin Treya had ever seen. She often wondered why her friend had remained single but had never asked.

Lady Trast was quick to agree. Considerably taller than her companion, she had long hair that had once been mostly brown but was now mostly gray. In addition to being taller, she was also wider than her friend, but it was more muscle than fat.

“People are nervous, Trey. They don’t understand what’s going on. Gods coming and going. Terrence walking around glowing…ummm…does he glow all over?”

Lady Mere punched her on the shoulder. “Alice!”

Treya watched the exchange, amused.

“What? I mean, it’s a curious thing. Does all of him glow?”

“Yes,” said Treya, laughing. “He glows all over. And before you follow up that line of interrogation, we have business to handle.”

At once the two women grew serious.

“What can we do to help?” asked Lady Mere.

“Let’s sit,” said the queen.

Refreshments awaited them in the sitting room, and they each took seats. There was nothing that resembled a throne in this room. The chairs were all comfortable and identical. No one that entered her private quarters was expected to stand on ceremony.

“Sandra, Alice, I’m going to need you.”

Both nodded. “You know we’d do anything for you,” said Lady Mere.

“Well, first, tomorrow I’m going to go into town to do a bit of furniture shopping, and I’d like you to accompany me. Maybe pick up something if you see a piece you like.”

Lady Trast looked askance. “Furniture shopping? What’s this about?”

“I’m treating a man who was soul damaged in the Undead War. He owns a furniture shop. A visit from the queen and a few of her friends would do wonders for his business.”

Lady Mere had picked up a pastry, but now waved it in front of her. “Go back a moment. You say you’re treating this man?”

“You know I leveled recently, right?” asked Treya.

“We do.”

“Well, I was given a skill called Soul Salve. I think Sheba wants me to help Lord Ormund, but his damage is extensive, so I’ve been practicing on people with less extensive damage at Sylinar’s temple. In fact, you should probably come to the temple with me as well, then we can go back to his shop together.”

Both of the women looked at each other. “Of course we’ll go,” said Lady Trast. “But surely this isn’t why you called us here.”

“It’s not. Terrence will be leaving, and I’ll be in charge of Twyl while he’s gone. He’s taking Leata with him. Maynor is already gone. I can’t run this kingdom alone.”

“Of course not,” said Lady Mere.

“So I’m going to need your help. I want to appoint you both to positions of some authority.”

Lady Mere leaned back in her chair, the pastry in her hand forgotten. Lady Trast spoke.

“You want Sandra to replace Leata?”

“I do.”

“Chamberlain? I don’t know anything about being Chamberlain.”

“But you’re organized, meticulous, even-tempered, and you have an amazing eye for detail.”

“Flatterer.”

“And it’s not like you have to know everything tomorrow. Leata isn’t leaving right away.”

“Have you talked this over with her?”

“I have not. I wanted to get you on board first. Anyway, she isn’t going to be here, and I have to be able to work with whoever she would have chosen, so I’m going to make that decision myself. I need someone I can trust.”

Treya could tell the women understood. These were her closest friends. She hadn’t had time for them recently, but they understood. They had been kind to her since her first moments in Twyl. Where others had seen what they could get from her, these women had never asked for anything. Loyalty. A rare commodity among the nobility. It was worth more than gold.

Ever since she’d arrived from Sawhetta, these two women had been her constant allies. And now she needed them more than ever. They would help her. She could see it in their eyes. She wasn’t going to be alone. It wouldn’t be like last time.

“What about Alice? You said there was a role for her too,” said Sandra.

“Alice, I need you to be my privy counselor.”

“Your what?”

“Privy counselor. It’s like my chief advisor, but also someone to fill in for me if I can’t sit on the throne. Actually I’d like Ferd to be a privy counselor too.”

“Ferd too? But why?”

“We need a line of succession. With Eric, Dahr and Terrence gone, there’s no heir.”

“You want me to be heir to the throne? There’s no way I can do that.”

“Of course you can. Sandra would get too bogged down by details. You’d make a decision, and that’s what is needed. I don’t expect you to have to do it, but just in case…if you haven’t noticed a lot has happened recently. Eric and Dahr have been kidnapped. Princess Chari is missing…”

“Missing?” asked Lady Trast. “When did that happen?”

“Since yesterday. We haven’t told anyone yet, but I’m surprised you hadn’t already heard. We’re preparing for war, and Maynor isn’t here to run the guard or protect the royal family. Honestly, I have no idea what’s going on, but there’s no guarantee I won’t be next. With everyone else gone, the line of succession ends with me, and your family has been here since Twyl was founded. You come from a well-respected noble house that chiefly worships Sheba. You’d be perfect. If something happens to me, you’d take the throne.”

“Until Eric or Terrence returns.”

Queen Treya dropped her head. “I don’t think either of them will be coming back anytime soon. Please, Alice, I need you to do this.”

“Of course I’ll do it. I just hope I won’t have to.”

“Good. You’ll shadow me as much as you can, so you can learn what to do. It’s not as hard as it sounds.”

“Treya, you make everything look easy, but we know better,” said Sandra.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

Alice and Sandra exchanged a glance and both walked to where the Queen sat. “We’re here for you, Trey,” said Sandra. “Always. You won’t be alone.”

Queen Treya drew in a deep breath.

“You didn’t eat your pastry.”

Sandra looked down, and it was still in her hand. A bit of filling chose that moment to disengage and drop to the floor. Alice chuckled.

“I can’t take you anywhere.”

“Come,” said the queen. “Let’s talk to Leata and then head to the throne room to make the position official.”

“Ummm Treya, does Terrence know you’re doing this?”

“High King Terrence isn’t in charge of Twyl anymore. I am. He doesn’t have a say in this.”

“You should probably tell him first,” said Sandra.

Treya grinned. “And ruin the surprise? I think with everything else that’s happened lately, it’s my turn to cause some confusion.”

Both of her friends looked at each other again, and then all three burst out laughing.

*

As weeks went, this had been a bad one for the Misfits of Karmenon. As far as they could tell, one of their own was responsible for kidnapping Prince Eric and Prince Dahr of Twyl. Though they had not been blamed, their association with Striker had set their reputation back. As they had spent a lot of time, gold and energy building that reputation, this was more than a mild inconvenience.

More than that, Striker’s betrayal had hit them hard. The traditional banter had given way to an awkward silence most of the time. Dreek alone seemed to remain unaffected. They each dealt with the betrayal differently.

Borin talked a lot about nothing. Ressssen kept mostly to herself, not trusting herself to speak. Garne barely complained at all, a circumstance no one expected and everyone, unexpectedly, found themselves missing. But most of all, Striker’s easy-going confidence was gone. In many ways, she had been the heart of the team, and that heart had been cut out. No one left was equipped to replace it.

Maynor, who was captain of the guard in the palace at Rish, traveled with them. He was a quiet, somber man, who did nothing to add to the feeling that something had been irrevocably lost, and no one had a method of getting it back. Their only hope had been to find Striker, and now a chirkir had told them that it was a task beyond their ability.

The chirkir was still there, arguing with George, who wore a translucent version of Dahr’s body. George was trying to get the chirkir to part with information it had no intention of revealing. Finally, Ressssen had had enough.

“You say we have no hope of catching Striker. Do you have any suggestions of what we might be doing?”

The Misfits of Karmenon and Maynor still have a role to play in all that is to come. However, that role doesn’t have anything to do with Striker.

“What does it have to do with then?”

A nearby dungeon.

“One of the new ones?”

Yes.

“How would a dungeon help us?”

You need to enter the dungeon and clear it completely. Reach the treasure chest in the final room. Inside will be a book. You must bring it to Queen Treya in Rish.

“I am loathe,” said Maynor, “to return to Queen Treya without news of her sons.”

Before long, everyone will know where the princes can be found.

“What book is this?” asked Maynor. “And why would Queen Treya need it?”

The name of the book is not important. But the book must be brought to the palace at Rish or King Terrence will fall.

“What do you mean?”

King Terrence is precariously balanced between immortality and death. His path forward is treacherous. If he strays from his ordained path even slightly, he will fall.

“I don’t believe you,” said Maynor.

Your belief is not required. Even while you wander the world on a quest you can’t complete, the situation in Twyl has changed.

“How so?”

The gods of order have declared war on the Undead King. Forces are being gathered even now. King Terrence has been appointed by the gods of order as High King of all Thysandrika.

A stunned silence followed the announcement. No one knew what to make of it, or even if it was true.

“Why should we believe you?” asked Garne.

It is true whether you believe me or not. You will receive confirmation soon enough. But on the offhand chance I’m correct, you should head south to the Horn. You will find what you seek there.

“The horn is a big mountain range. Do you truly expect us to reach our objective just by heading south?”

Yes. But more, you will find evidence before that that I am speaking the truth.

They all looked to Maynor rather than Ressssen. He was a representative of the man who had hired them after all. It would be his call.

“Whether or not the chirkir speaks the truth doesn’t matter, at least when it comes to the current situation. It was right about one thing. We’re unlikely to catch up with Eric and Dahr. I say we head south. What do you think, Ressssen?”

“We will go with you. I am not fool enough to dismiss the words of a chirkir.” She turned to regard the creature. “Thank you for this information.”

The correct response would be my pleasure, but it would be a lie. It is relief that I feel. I must go now. Farewell, Misfits of Karmenon. Farewell, Maynor of Twyl.

“What about me?” asked Telisian.

Never having parted, I need never say goodbye.

“That’s deep. If you’re interested, I know a decent coffee house in the east village with an open mic night.” said Telisian. “I spent most of the nineties keeping an eye on the place, looking for hidden code, since it was all so obviously devoid of anything remotely resembling meaning. Earth is so weird.”

Without any response the chirkir vanished, leaving behind an unsettled and confused guild team.

*

Suzanna sat at the computer. She didn’t spend long creating a character, which she named Literally Suzanna, just to be silly. She had no real intention of taking the game seriously. This was a learning opportunity, nothing more. She skipped the intro scene and went through the tutorial as quickly as she could. It was more or less the same as Eric’s play-through, except she had chosen Sylinar as her goddess.

The idea of a goddess of healing appealed to her. The game’s wiki offered a bit more information about the gods in general, and Sylinar in particular. She learned Sylinar was considered the mother of the gods and that she was the first. Yes, the idea of healing very much appealed to her.

Literally Suzanna went to her room and prayed, just as Literally Gerrick had done, but Sylinar’s voice was different from Sheba’s. More compassionate. Melodic. Richer. She loved it the moment she heard it. It felt like home. She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself.

“Hello, my child. It is time for you to take your place as my servant.”

Suzanna sat up straighter, as if the goddess could actually see her.

“All your life, you have wanted only to help others. I will give you the tools to continue that journey. New Skill unlocked, Heal.”

She turned her head to look at Danny, who sat on the chair beside her staring at the screen. If only she could heal him, but of course, that was impossible. Whatever was wrong with Danny might well be beyond the abilities of even a goddess. She would have done anything to be able to heal him. It was her most fervent wish.

And that is what makes you special.

Suzanna jumped. That didn’t come from the speakers. She looked around, but there was no one in the room with her.

“Hello?”

Hello, Suzanna. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

“Am I going mad?”

Do you think you’re going mad?

“Yes.”

Then I would imagine being reassured by a disembodied voice wouldn’t help much.

Suzanna shook her head. Could a goddess from a game be talking to her in real life? Of course not. She had enough trouble accepting Eric, but this?

I know it is a lot to take in, but Prince Eric spoke the truth, Suzanna. The gods are real. I am real. You are not hallucinating. This isn’t some mental aberration. You are speaking with a goddess.

Suzanna had had enough. She stood up and pushed her chair back. She took Danny by the hand. He didn’t resist as she led him back to his bedroom. She had to get away from the game.

You’ll have to go a lot further than that to escape my attention.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. This, all of this…it’s not possible.”

Do you not want to heal people?

“I want nothing more. But how can this be real?”

New skill unlocked, Heal. The road to healing is long and difficult, but you have it in you, Suzanna. Your soul is pure. Will you not accept my gift?

“Sylinar, I don’t…you don’t know me. I don’t deserve any gifts, particularly not one from a goddess.”

Do you think you’re the best judge of that?

“There’s so much you don’t know about me.”

Are you so sure? Do you know many goddesses? I can read the pain and guilt on your soul as surely as you’re standing in front of me. I know about the daughters that have been taken from you. I know you work hard to send them money, even though you’ll never be allowed to see them. I know why you became a nurse. But most importantly, I know your heart, Suzanna. You’re the first person to give someone a second chance. Will you not accept that you deserve one as well?

“I don’t even know how to address you.”

Sylinar is fine. It is, after all, my name, or at least one of them.

“How are you here?”

Wherever sentient beings exist, there are those who desire to heal. Earth is one of those places. I only had a token presence, until people became aware of my existence through a computer game. An admittedly popular computer game. And people felt strongly about me, about the skills I gave them, and I grew in power.

“How can that be?”

I don’t need to understand how a thing works to know that it does. But the question remains. Do you or do you not wish to be a healer?

“I do. With all my heart, I do.”

Then let it be so. New skill unlocked, Heal Wound. New Skill unlocked Dull Pain, New Skill unlocked, Remove condition. You are now a Level 1 Healer. You have long desired the power to fix that which is broken. What will you do with it now that you have it?

Suzanna felt power flow through her, too strong to be an illusion. She’d never felt anything like it but knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this wasn’t some hallucination. She could feel the goddess’s warmth and strength suffuse her.

She went downstairs to the kitchen and walked to the counter where the chef prepared meals. There was a block of knives on it, which he kept sharp. She took one, looked around to make sure she was alone, then moved to the sink and ran the tap. She considered the knife and then the palm of her hand. Should she just nick a finger first?

No. She had felt the goddess’s power. To nick herself slightly might be considered offensive. If this were to work, she had to believe. She had never cut herself before, and the thought of doing so now scared her. She had seen people on television casually drawing a knife blade across their palms as if it were nothing, but then, most of them were on shows about vampires. She placed the edge of the knife against her palm and hesitated only briefly before sliding it across. A line of blood appeared as it moved across the surface of her skin, as if she were drawing it with a pen. Hardly any pain at all. That surprised her. She stared at the blood, hypnotized by the pattern formed as it started to seep from the wound.

She looked at it, sensed the injury in a way she had never before been able to. Then she made a fist, closed her eyes and found the ability to heal within her. She could feel the cut close, almost see it in her mind. When she looked again, there was blood on her palm, but the cut was gone. She rinsed the rest of the blood down the drain and stared at her palm as if she had never seen it before.

“Did I really do that?”

Sylinar’s voice filled her mind.

Not really. I did it. You simply channeled my power.

“Of course, I’m sorry, Sylinar.”

There is no reason to apologize. You have come to the knowledge you have quite late in life. You weren’t raised in a world that believes, but in your heart of hearts, you do want to heal, and I can work with that.

“I can’t wait to tell Prince Eric.”

It may be a while. Prince Eric, at the moment, has his hands full.