One day, I’d like to turn my hand to something other than fighting. Perhaps learn a craft. I think I’d like to learn how to paint, but I won’t know until I try. At the moment, I have this book. I can write a lot of it in my head, because my memory is perfect. I wonder if that’s true of all familiars. I can write at any time and transcribe my thoughts to paper when I have the opportunity. I do not believe most writers enjoy this benefit.

The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu

Nineteenth of Learning 1142

Literally Suzanna saw the rabbit at the last second, turned and shot a bolt at it from her staff. She had no idea how killing a rabbit had anything to do with healing, but if it leveled her, that was fine. That was all the rabbits she needed. She returned to the NPC that had provided the quest and found that hunger wasn’t the only problem he was having. Apparently he needed to stay warm too…and that required wolf pelts. So off Literally Suzanna went to hunt wolves.

Suzanna glanced at the clock on the bottom right of her monitor. She had not intended to play the game for as long as she had. She was going to poke around a bit, and then get onto other things that needed doing. But Danny was watching the screen, rather than staring blankly at it as he normally would have. He was watching with rapt attention. It made no sense to her.

When she had gone downstairs to get a cup of coffee, she had returned to her room to find Danny standing beside the chair, staring at the screen. He had been on the bed when she’d left him. What was he seeing? Why was he interested in this game? Did Prince Eric’s visits alter Danny’s mind? It was another mystery in a day full of mysteries.

Because of his interest, she had returned to the game and started playing again. The starter zone was standard MMO fare, more geared to teaching you about game basics like movement, jumping and dodging and less about anything significant. It was fun enough, but nothing particularly worth recalling. And yet Danny stood by her side, barely blinking, staring at the screen as he’d stared at nothing else.

“What are you seeing when you look at this?” she asked aloud. Danny, of course, didn’t answer.

Suzanna felt a bit let down. She had expected more from the game, though of course, that was ridiculous. Most MMOs were boring during the early levels, which were nothing more than a tutorial. The fact that this game was attached to another world that actually existed had nothing to do with the game itself. It still had to teach people how to play. So she killed her way through the first few levels even though she was a healer.

She was so immersed in the game, she didn’t realize that Mrs. Bradsworth had returned home and was standing in the doorway, watching.

“Are you playing The Undead Wars?”

Suzanna jumped. She wondered how long Mrs. Bradsworth had been there. “I am. Danny seems to like it, so I’ve been keeping him entertained.”

“I’ve never seen him like that,” said Mrs. Bradsworth.

“Nor have I. I wonder what it is about this game?”

“It’s a very popular game.”

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of it.”

Suzanna hadn’t seen Mrs. Bradsworth play any games at all and didn’t know she knew about any of them.

“I invested heavily in it, many years ago, before it came out. I’ve met the lead programmer in fact. Lovely man.”

“You’ve met him?”

“Yes, he goes by the name of Nylus, but his real name is Nick Candara. I met him when he was first designing the game and liked the way it sounded. I did some research and decided that I’d like to put some money into it.”

Suzanna didn’t visibly react, but inside her mind was churning. She’d never heard of Mrs. Bradsworth investing in any kind of tech, and the idea of her investing in a game was strange enough to get a reaction. But this game? Could this have something to do with Eric taking over her son’s body? It didn’t make any sense at all.

“I’m really enjoying it,” said Suzanna. “I used to do a lot of gaming, back in the day.”

“I didn’t know that. Would you like to meet him? Nylus, I mean.”

“Really?”

“I don’t see why not. I was one of his first major investors, and he owes me. And we’re on friendly terms anyway. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him. He owns an old brownstone in Park Slope. We could drive down one day, if you’re interested.”

“Yes, I’d love that.”

“Did anything else unusual happen while I was gone?”

Suzanna caught herself before she reacted. Could Mrs. Bradsworth know something? Why would she ask that? She’d never asked that before.

“Unusual?”

“Like Danny’s reaction to the game. It’s very strange.”

“Oh, yes. Sorry, no nothing else.”

“Well, I’ll take him, you should get some rest. Again, sorry for the long hours you’ve had to work.”

“You know I don’t mind, Ida.”

Mrs. Bradsworth grinned. “There you go. I knew you could do it.”

“It still feels strange to call you by your first name.”

“Suzanna. You’ve been here for so many years. If anyone is family, you are. I’ll give Nylus a call and set something up. Then I’ll come and take Danny, and you can get some rest.”

“Thanks.”

Mrs. Bradsworth walked away, and Suzanna closed down the game. She wasn’t sure if this week could get much weirder.

“Sylinar, I have a question.”

I’m sure you have many.

“Why do I level in the game by killing things, when I’m supposed to be a healer.”

I don’t know, but it’s a game. Healers level by healing. By caring for others. Your sacrifice for Danny is one of the reasons you’ve earned my tether, but as I said, I know your heart. Games are games and don’t need reasons to be how they are. But in the real world, healers level by healing.

“Thank you for that. I was confused and a bit worried. I wouldn’t like to kill a rabbit. I don’t particularly want to kill anything.”

You may have to at some point to defend yourself. Killing in self-defense is acceptable, but not if there is another way. However, mostly, a healer would be healing others, and they will be doing the killing.

“So, it’s okay to heal people who are killing other people, as long as you don’t kill them yourself? What kind of logic is that?”

It’s more complicated than you make it out to be. When people fight on Thysandrika, they are often fighting to protect their families, or keep their people safe, but that’s not true of all people, of course. Healers heal, because healing means something to them. It’s like doctors on your world. Will a doctor treat a person who murdered another person, if he was shot in the process?

“Yes, of course. I see what you’re saying.”

Healing is a way of life for my followers. We don’t judge, we heal. It’s not like you’re joining a team of brigands who don’t care who they hurt. If you were to join an adventuring team, it would be a team that’s trying to protect and defend. That would be a worthy use of your talents.

“An adventuring team?”

Groups of people with different roles who explore the wild places of the world, and make them safe from monsters. People who protect and guard and sacrifice so that others can be safe. Joining such a team to heal them would be a noble pursuit.

“I doubt I’ll find many teams of adventurers to join here on earth.”

That’s probably true, yes.

Suzanna shook her head. It had become so easy to accept that the goddess was real, because she could feel her. Even now, Sylinar was there, inside her, guiding her. She had never had such a feeling before. She wondered how many people on Earth might have classes, and if she’d ever passed one without knowing. People on Earth using magic because a game was popular seemed odd to her.

It’s not because the game is popular. It’s because the gods are real. The game gave us more power to tether souls here.

“Do you think there’s a chance that it could be discovered? That people will learn the gods are real.”

It is a possibility but not a big one. I think most gods are aware of what would happen to their followers if people found out. This world is not Thysandrika. The public would not take kindly to people with strange powers worshiping strange gods. It is perhaps for the best that you do everything you can to keep your powers secret.

“But what if I need to heal someone?”

Then do it in a way that makes it look like you’re doing something else.

*

Queen Treya opened her eyes. She had closed them to try to fight off the headache that was threatening to overwhelm her. She had done it. She had repaired a soul for the first time. It had been hard, so very hard, but she had done it. Lek’s soul would repair itself, but more than that, she was one step closer to helping Lord Ormund. Whatever she'd suffered, it was absolutely worth it.

She smiled wearily at the people surrounding her, despite the pain in her head. Lek, Lady Mere, Lady Trast and a priest she didn’t recognize seemed concerned but also relieved.

“Are you all right?” asked Lady Mere.

“I’m fine, just a bit tired.”

Lady Mere returned a skeptical look. “You’re not fine.”

“Never mind me. How are you feeling, Lek?”

“Your maj…Treya. I don’t know how to describe it, but I feel different. Did it work?”

“It did. Your soul should be able to heal itself now. There was something blocking that from happening, but I removed it.”

Tears formed in Lek’s eyes. “Thank you…Treya. I don’t know how I can possibly repay you.”

“You could sell me some furniture. I’d like to see your shop.”

Treya waved his protest away before he could get it out.

“I too would like to visit your shop,” said Lady Trast.

Lek was speechless.

“Are you all right to walk?” asked Lady Trast.

“I am,” said Treya. She turned toward the priest. “Thank you for allowing me to practice here. I am ready to try to help the next patient, if you can arrange that.”

“I will inform the High Priest, and we’ll make contact. Thank you, Your Highness. You honor us, and the goddess.”

“Truly, it was my pleasure.”

Treya forced herself to stand, trying as best she could to cover her unsteadiness. Lady Trast was beside her in a moment. Neither of her friends bought the act, but she’d walk out of here on her own two feet if she had the choice. After all, they weren’t the only ones present.

Together, the four, led by Lek, left the temple and made their way in the direction of the merchant’s quarter, surrounded by guards from Lady Trast’s household.

Treya looked around with interest. She wasn’t sure she had ever been to this part of the city, and if she had been, it might well have been in a carriage. The crowd hadn’t thinned out, and several people followed the entourage, which was fine, because those people would tell their friends and family where the Queen had stopped to shop.

Lek walked with them but remained silent, which defeated at least part of the purpose of the visit. He was supposed to be someone she was friendly with. However, before she could say anything, Lady Mere took over.

She took his arm and leaned her head close to whisper something in his ear. Lek looked surprised, then looked around to see if anyone else was watching. Queen Treya smiled and took a moment to get her bearings. There were all sorts of shops here, not the kind she usually frequented, but these people were her subjects. She wondered how they were doing, selling their candles, toys, clothing, produce, baked goods—pretty much everything. She wanted to stop at every shop but wouldn’t…not today. Today was Lek’s day.

At the thought, she turned to Lek and smiled.

“I hope Lady Mere isn’t trying to corrupt you.”

Lek blushed a bit and shook his head. “No, Your Highness. She was just asking some questions about…”

“Now, Lek,” she interrupted him, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. “You’re supposed to call me Treya, we agreed on that, didn’t we.”

Lek looked panicked, as if people would throw stones at him for using her first name.

“Of course, Treya. I just thought that in public…”

“It’s okay that people know we’re friends, Lek. Don’t you think queens are allowed to have friends?”

Lady Trast raised her voice. “What about it, people of Rish? Are queens allowed to have friends?”

“Yes!” shouted the crowd.

“We don’t want the queen sitting alone during a festival, do we?”

“No!”

People were laughing. Lek looked like he wanted to disappear down a hole, and Treya took his other arm.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can get through this. How far is your shop?”

“Just another few minutes. I can’t believe that this is happening.”

Treya shrugged. “I can’t believe people risk their lives and get so little in return.”

At that, Lek straightened.

“Is that what you think? That we get little in return?” Now it was Lek’s turn to raise his voice. “What do you think, people of Rish. Do we have the greatest King and Queen on all of Thysandrika?”

The reply from the crowd was deafening.

“We love you, Your Highness. People in Rish are not ignorant. We know how good we have it compared to other places, at least many of us do. That didn’t happen by accident. We are blessed to have a great King and Queen ruling Twyl. We wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. We wouldn’t want to serve any other ruler. What you give to the people…there are no words to express my gratitude. To you. To King Terrence. To the members of your court. We live here free and fair. We have enough money to pay rent, buy food and still have a little left over for the occasional luxury. There aren’t many places like that, and many of us know it. Make no mistake about it, Treya. The people love you. They love King Terrence. And we’re proud to be Twylian.”

Treya didn’t know what to say. She had to fight to hold back tears. Impulsively, she kissed Lek on the cheek, and the crowd went wild.

Before anything else could happen, they reached his shop, and the Queen and her entourage went inside. It wasn’t a large shop. Just big enough for them all. The furniture inside was good quality. Nothing special or fancy, but that wouldn’t stop the Queen from fulfilling a promise.

Lady Mere purchased a chest of draws, Lady Trast purchased a large, decorative chest, and the Queen purchased several items, including a large, mirrored vanity that seemed to be the best thing in the shop.

When they said their farewells and left, Treya was surprised to find a long line of people waiting to go in. Lek would have his hands full in the days to come, and she was happy for it. Even happier to have helped heal him. She’d check on him in a few days to make sure he was getting on, but she suspected he would do just fine.

“We did some good here,” said Lady Mere as they retreated from the shop, heading in the direction of the palace.

“We did,” agreed Treya. “Thank you both for helping me.”

Lady Trast laughed. “Are you kidding? This was better than the last ten feasts I’ve attended. I may start shopping here instead of sending out servants.”

Treya laughed and hugged both her friends. “And the best part is, he’s going to be okay. I’ve healed his soul damage.”

“That’s amazing,” said Lady Mere. “But I didn’t doubt you’d be able to. When you set your mind to a task, nothing can stop you.”

“Speaking of which, we need to get back to the palace. We have some papers to draw up.”

*

Ressssen rode at the front of the party. Dreek scouted somewhere ahead. Behind, she knew the others were coming, though they were more spread out and less cautious with a high-level warrior like Maynor accompanying them. They may have lost a Level 1 Beast Master but they had gained a fighter that was at least Level 20, no matter what his class was. Though she was curious, she never asked Dreek to attempt to read Maynor’s level and class. Not only was it beyond the bounds of common courtesy, but it was unlikely that a low-level scout could get a read on someone of such a high level. And Ressssen had no doubt that Maynor’s level was high.

She had been mostly silent in the throne room, trying to glean as much information as she could. She didn’t see how Striker, at her level, could possibly have cast a spell that would have influenced Maynor, and that was a problem for her. She didn’t say anything about it, because she didn’t want to look like she was defending Striker, especially after the princes had gone missing. But that didn’t mean she automatically assumed that Striker was guilty either, even if others did. She would reserve her judgement until she knew more.

She was so lost in thought, a fog had formed without her consciously realizing it. It was so thick and sudden, it couldn’t be natural. Dreek ran out of it, and it followed behind as if in active pursuit.

Maynor galloped forward so that he was beside her.

“I’ve only seen fog like this once before.”

“Do you know what this is?” she asked.

“I believe I do. Just wait a moment. I don’t believe we’re in danger.”

Dreek had reached them, but before he could speak, a large covered wagon rolled out of the fog.

It was shades of orange and yellow, the colors of a sunset, with the word “Wenric” painted on the side of it. And in the driver’s seat sat a man and woman dressed in traveling clothes, the woman in shades of blue and gold, the man in black and silver. There was something otherworldly about them, as if they had taken human form just for the occasion.

She had curly brown hair, brown eyes and a timeless look that made it hard to guess her age. The man’s hair, salt and pepper, made him look a bit older, but like the woman, it would have been hard to guess his age as well. His blue-green eyes looked as if they had seen more than any mortal should have, which wasn’t far from the truth.

Maynor rode forward and pulled on the reins, stopping only a meter or two before the vehicle.

“Captain Maynor…it is Captain these days is it not?” said the woman.

“Well met,” said Maynor. “It’s been a long time.”

“Almost sixteen years.”

“Who are these people?” asked Ressssen.

“Rendy and Wic are servants of Viajero, god of travelers. They show up where great events are about to take place. The last time I saw them was shortly before the Undead War.”

Wic nodded. “Much has happened since then.”

Maynor looked around as if he expected something to happen right then and there.

Garne had ridden up to where Maynor had stopped, and stared wide-eyed at the wagon and its occupants.

“Rendy and Wic are real?”

Maynor smiled. “They are.”

“I’d heard stories but never believed…”

“You’re not alone,” said Rendy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Garne.”

“So if you don’t mind me asking,” said Maynor. “Why are you here?”

“Our god has given us important information to pass on to both you and the Misfits of Karmenon. King Terrence has indeed been promoted to High King, at least for the duration of the upcoming hostilities.”

“So it will be war,” said Maynor, grimly.

“So it would seem. The chirkir spoke truly. You know what you have to do.”

“I don’t get it,” said Garne. “Why would the god of travelers want us to go into a dungeon, and how will it help the war effort?”

“There is little we can tell you about that, only that it must be done.”

“Then why doesn’t Sheba tell me to do it?” asked Maynor.

“Because the request for action didn’t come from Sheba. It came from Iorana.”

Maynor frowned. The entire situation was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. A chirkir had asked him and a Tier 1 adventuring team to enter a dungeon and retrieve something from a chest, which they were then to take to Queen Treya in Rish. The chirkir had assured him there would be evidence that it was speaking the truth, but Sheba herself had, for whatever reason, neglected to intervene personally. Why would she not have just told him? What was Iorana’s interest in all this? Why had their team been chosen to retrieve this item? And why was King Terrence chosen to be high king? Maynor loved and respected Terrence, but surely he isn’t the best qualified man in the world to lead troops into battle.

“Another question, then. Why did the gods elevate King Terrence above all others?”

“At least partly because he’s a direct descendant of Arimen, on both sides, and that makes him different from other mortals. The same is true of Queen Treya.”

“So Prince Eric is a direct descendant too.”

“That would stand to reason,” said Wic.

“I don’t like this,” said Maynor. “Part of me feels that if King Terrence is going to be leading an army against the Undead King, then I need to get back to Rish. I don’t understand how exploring a dungeon is a better use of my time.”

“The chirkir told you why. Do you doubt its words?” asked Rendy.

“I doubt everything at this point. Nothing has made sense since Prince Eric’s first transition attempt. I don’t know what to do. Sheba, please, give me guidance. And the goddess responded.

You can trust the chirkir. It spoke truly. The dungeon is where you need to be, at least according to Iorana, who knows more about the current situation than I do.

“I don’t understand any of this. Am I to do Iorana’s bidding now?”

No, Maynor. The gods of order have allied to defend humanity. We are all on the same side. And this is, for better or worse, Iorana’s show.

“I don’t understand why.”

Because she is the goddess of magic, and this matter falls under her jurisdiction. The gods have rules. This has been decided. No god will break the compact, for any reason.

Maynor spoke loud enough to include everyone present. “It seems we ride south. If there’s nothing else you’d like to share with us.”

Wic studied the Misfits of Karmenon and Maynor. “Be careful, Maynor. This isn’t a normal dungeon.”

“What does that mean?”

“We don’t know,” said Rendy. “I only know it appeared out of nowhere a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps the next time we come this way, we will visit it, but for now, we have to move on. It is a long way from here to our next destination.”

Maynor bowed his head. “I wish you well, Rendy and Wic. Perhaps we’ll meet again in the future.”

“I expect we will,” said Wic. “Be well, and gods speed.”

Before anyone else could answer, Wic spoke a word, and the horses began to move again. The fog rapidly overtook the wagon and the Misfits. When it cleared moments later, the mountain range called The Horn was much closer than it had been.

“Neat trick,” whispered Garne, though only Maynor was close enough to make out his words. “I wish Striker was here to see it.”

Maynor turned to the warrior. “That makes two of us.”

“I’m still not convinced she’s guilty of anything.”

“I hope she’s not, but it’s not looking good.”

“I know. But I won’t give up on her until I know for sure.”

Ressssen, who had sat silently through the entire encounter, finally broke her silence. “None of us want to believe Striker took the princes against their will, but all the evidence suggests she did. I cannot fault your loyalty, Garne, but I fear you will be disappointed when we learn the truth.”

“I’ll worry about it then,” said Garne. “Right now, we have a dungeon to find. I’ll focus on that.”

“But how will we find it?” asked Borin. “We have no idea where it is.”

“We’ll find it,” said Maynor. “If the gods want us to conquer that dungeon, we will find our way there. You can bet on it.”

They looked at each other, but with nothing else to do, continued their journey south toward a mountain range known as The Horn.