Psycho heard the knock on his door and thought about denying entrance to whomever it was, but relented after the second knock and triggered the magical lock on the door. His visitor didn’t surprise him. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
Draya winced at the accurate assessment. The wards Trixna had cast on each of their rooms let any potential guest know if the occupants were awake or asleep, so Psycho knew Draya hadn’t feared waking him. “I thought you might want to talk,” she lied.
Pschco knew better but played along at first. “How do you know I wasn’t just about to turn in?”
“Because you are still dressed in your cloak and armor,” she replied. Draya wore leggings and a long flowing shirt, much more appropriate for this time of night.
“And you could see that through the door?” he asked, knowing the answer. “Perhaps I like to be prepared. You never know what might fly through the window in these dangerous mountains.”
Draya smiled at his humorous attempt. Her eyes searched out his lone window. While her bedroom sat adjacent to the magically warmed beach the gnomes had crafted, Psycho’s window looked over a 200-foot drop-off with a majestic view of the mountains and forested valley below. The magical shield over the window kept the cold night air out and the warm room-temperature air in. It also prevented any unwanted visitors.
“And you sleep with that, too?” she nodded to the item in his hands.
Psycho sat at the foot of his bed, idly twirling a black arrow, whisps of shadow trailing its tip. He had been so lost in thought when Draya had knocked that he forgot he was holding it. He panicked for a moment and thought about stashing the item in his cloak, but it was too late. Instead, he played it off with another joke. “I like to cuddle it at night,” the elf said. “Its shadow darkens the room when the moon is too bright.”
Draya frowned. The lights were turned down, with only a few minor wards glowing dimly. The moon, if it was even out this night, wasn’t visible through the window, and the few stars she saw wouldn’t have much effect on the illumination.
“More likely, it is what is keeping you up,” Draya said. Psycho only shrugged. She continued. “You aren’t like him, you know. The Shade Fletcher and you are totally different?” The mage correctly identified the black arrow.
Psycho chuckled. “Yes, Esther thinks he’s a she.”
Draya’s frown deepened. “That’s not what I meant. He . . . uh, she . . . uh, they are a ruthless killer. You are not.”
“Aren’t I?” Psycho asked, looking up from the arrow, unable to keep the hurt from his voice.
“No,” Draya insisted.
“Jace hired me to kill,” he replied stoically.
“From what I understand, he freed you,” Draya argued. “Saved you from your fate. Gave you a new purpose. Granted you free will.”
Psycho laughed. Draya had no idea. She didn’t know about scripts, at least not in the artificial way the game applied them. She might call them destiny or will, but Psycho knew otherwise, and he knew they designed him to be the ruthless killer Draya said he wasn’t.
“At least you have more freedom than you did when you were with that Drescher person Esther talks about. She said you were a real ‘ray of sunshine’ back then.”
Psycho shrugged, conceding the point. “Drescher treated me like a killer, and I performed for him. Jace treats me like a person, but I still kill for him.”
“You didn’t kill me,” Draya said, her voice cracking. She swallowed to regain her composure. “I was pretty out of it at the time, but Esther filled me in. You had a vampire and demon leaning on you to kill me. They used logic, magic, and seduction, and you refused them. Would a ruthless killer do that?”
“I killed Snowy,” he replied.
Draya frowned at him. “And I tried to kill you,” she replied quickly, no guilt in her voice. “That was different, and you know it. We had no will and no chance to fight back. The power of gods compelled us. You can’t feel guilty about that. Even Snowy is smart enough to know that was different.”
Psycho didn’t argue back.
“When I walked in here,” Draya continued, “you joked with me, despite your dark mood. When did the most deadly killer in the realms develop a sense of humor?”
“Second deadliest,” Psycho corrected, holding up the arrow.
Draya laughed. “Really? Is that what this is about? Are you upset you are just like the Shade Fletcher, or that he/she/it is better than you? A few lucky shots don’t count for anything.”
Psycho smiled. He knew the shot that had taken him down and killed Queen Vashti hadn’t been lucky. Still, when Draya exposed his contradictory mood for what it was, it felt silly. Jace was helping him escape his oppressive script. The archer remembered his time in Sniper’s Refuge, between Drescher and Jace, when he had been compelled to shoot everyone who approached his tower. Nothing like that existed now.
He stowed the arrow into his cloak. Despite its absence, he still saw a shadowed line before his vision, like staring into the sun and then seeing spots when you looked away. He blinked several times to try to banish it and finally looked toward Draya to shift his perspective.
Her smile seemed forced, and as he focused on her red hair, he knew why. She also had a black streak that wasn’t easily banished. “I don’t suppose your lack of sleep is because you're worried about all the school you just missed,” Psycho said. “Is fire still dominating your dreams?”
Draya’s smile lost any sincerity it might have possessed, and she nodded. “You’d think, as a dragon, I should expect that.”
“But it isn’t dragon fire, is it?” the elf asked.
Fear flashed in her eyes as the black streak in her hair pulsed with power. She shook her head. “No,” she choked. “It isn’t.”
Psycho grew suddenly protective like someone was abusing his sister. That this type of righteous protection shouldn’t exist in a scripted killer wasn’t lost on him. He leaned into it. “Is there something I can do?” he asked, rising from the bed and walking toward her. “Something I can kill?” He smiled.
She chuckled at the joke, but it was forced. “Not unless you want to venture into the pit of hell to slay a demon lord.”
The archer shrugged. “Jace seems fairly adept at that. You should ask him. We just spent days servicing Esther’s needs. I’m sure he would do the same for you?”
Draya shook her head. “This is different. Karo’Kafellon is nothing compared to the monster I stole fire from. Even when Karo had the power of the gods flowing through him, he couldn’t hold a candle to the burning sun of demon fire that is after me.”
“How do you know?” Psycho asked.
She frowned at him. “I’m a mage. I can sense magical power. This is unlike anything I’ve experienced before.”
“You’re not even 20 years old. What have you experienced?”
Draya smirked. “I used the power of an ancient lich to secure a red dragon’s spirit within me.”
“Fair point,” Psycho said, knowing the young woman and having experienced more than most. “Do you know the demon’s name?”
Draya shook her head. “Only that he wants me . . . haunts me . . . won’t stop until I am his. Getting to level 20 and becoming a full dragon hasn’t lessened his desire. When I’m awake and distracted, I can push him to the back of my mind, but at night . . . when I’m alone . . .”
Psycho took another step toward her, unsure of what to do. He might not be the heartless assassin he once was, but that didn’t make emotional matters like this easier for him to navigate. Draya looked up at him, sensing the tension within him.
“Can I sleep here tonight?”
Now he took a step back, a look of horror on his face.
Her expression changed to one of shock, too. “Oh, no, not like that. I’m not Esther. I just don’t want to be alone.”
“And your normal roommate isn’t good enough?” Psycho asked, halting his retreat for a moment.
Draya frowned. “She snuck out as soon as she thought I was asleep.”
Psycho released a dry chuckle. As much as Jace’s acceptance of the archer allowed his change, it gave Esther the confidence to stay the same. “Wasn’t her nighttime liaisons the cause of all our problems in the last mission?”
Draya shrugged, not really wanting to discuss Esther’s pernicious promiscuity. Psycho saw this immediately and returned to the issue at hand. “I only have one bed,” he said, turning to regard his sparse room.
“I can sleep on the floor,” the woman said, eyeing up the polar bear rug lying before the window.
Psycho thought the magical residue from the cold creature might offer her additional comfort from her fiery dreams, but he shook his head at the idea. “No, you can have the bed. I’m not really that tired. Gromphy’s healing potions usually keep me going for hours.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“You need your sleep,” Psycho said. “I will watch over you. My chair is actually quite comfortable.”
Draya closed the distance between them and hugged the tall elf. He returned the embrace as awkwardly as he had Esther’s just a few hours earlier. She sensed his discomfort and withdrew after a few moments. Psycho kept a hand on her shoulder and guided her over to his bed. It was large, with two pillows, but he had no intention of sharing it with her. He pulled back the covers and helped her in. As he began to pull away, she clutched at him.
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“Can you stay by me for a little while yet? At least until I fall asleep?”
Psycho nodded and prepared to rub her shoulder, but she rolled over to the far side, forcing him to sit on the bed to maintain contact. She faced the wall, with her back to him, and he gently stroked her arm and brushed her hair. The dragon mage purred like a cat under his touch, and soon, her breathing took on a slow, repetitive pattern. Psycho shifted his position to stand, releasing his touch on her, and she moaned, shifting her position.
The elf sighed and lay down next to her on top of the covers. As he continued to stroke her arm, he watched the black streak in her hair fade into the room’s shadows. He felt the calm sense of safety emanating from her soothing his own troubled thoughts. He hoped the demon that tormented her would never find his way to their physical plane, but if he did, Psycho would be here to protect her. Those comforting thoughts filled his mind until he, too, fell asleep.
----------------------------------------
Hector looked warily at the warlock as the man prepared the spell. “Elias, are you sure this is going to work?”
Elias looked up from a pile of gemstones he had been arranging before his friend’s door. “Why,” the warlock grinned, “don’t you trust me?”
Hector grimaced. He didn’t trust anyone. Ever since he had joined this guild, other players had been playing tricks and pranking him. They all assured him it was just part of the customary hazing ritual and he wasn’t in any danger, but Selina had taken things a bit too far.
The guild house wasn’t the same as a stronghold, as each player had total control of their rooms, and no one player could set the parameters for the whole house. Located on the outskirts of Gildestraad, one of the largest, most diverse cities in the realms, membership in the guild was highly desired. Unlike some of the more specialized areas in ROI, the large city offered something for everyone, spawning dozens of unique quests due to the chaotic nature of the players interacting with the hundreds of NPCs.
Hector had joined less than a week ago and felt like he was doing the group a favor, as he was a level 14 fighter, and most of the others were 10 to 12. Still, they treated him like a noob. Especially Selina.
“Just sleep with her already,” Elias said once Hector didn’t answer. “Can’t you tell she’s flirting with you?”
“Is that why she leaves traps in my room every time I log off?” the fighter asked. Every time he entered the game, he suffered 20-30 points of damage. Healing potions weren’t cheap.
The warlock looked him dead in the eyes. “Yes. Trust me, she’s done it to other guys. She wants to see if you can take a little abuse first.”
Hector shrugged. Like many ROI players, he hadn’t had a lot of success with the opposite sex in the real world. In his experience, you returned hostility for hostility. If the female rogue was really interested in him, then she should interpret his trap in the same way she wanted him to interpret hers. “Just do the spell,” Hector said.
“All right,” Elias said. “I’m just saying you are probably passing up a great opportunity. Do you have the sacrifice?”
“Right,” Hector said and disappeared briefly into his room. He returned with a goblin, tied securely with ropes.
“Are you crazy?!” Elias shouted, leaping back from the creature. “That’s a level 9 flame berzerker! He could burn down this entire guild house.”
The structure was a three-story palatial home built on the edge of the Gilder River. It had rooms for eight guild members, but only seven were being used. Hector imagined the goblin could cause quite a bit of havoc, but he wasn’t worried about the monster getting loose. As a level 14 fighter, disabling and then securing the creature had been easy. Although, he imagined to a squishy level 9 warlock, the rage-filled goblin with a propensity for incendiary episodes might evoke a bit more fear.
“You said the more powerful, the better,” Hector said. “And a fire propensity was preferred.”
“Yes,” Elias admitted, “but I thought you would go into the mountains and bring back a baby red worm.”
Hector scoffed at the low-level monster. He thought, not for the first time, that perhaps joining this guild had been a mistake. They were opportunists, focusing more on FedEx missions and plot-heavy deduction quests. Hector wasn’t the brightest player and struggled with some of the riddles he had encountered. This guild had been looking for some muscle to allow them to attempt more battle-oriented missions. It had seemed like a perfect fit.
The fighter ignored the incongruity for now and looked back at the goblin. “Will he work?”
Elias shrugged an affirmative.
“Good,” Hector said, “then get on with it. This spell will trap my door and deal 100 fire damage to anyone who tries to enter, right?”
“Yes,” the warlock confirmed. “And it will stay active until you turn it off, dealing 100 damage over and over again. Are you sure you want to do this? This could kill some members of the guild.”
Hector looked above the warlock’s head. With only 130 Hitpoints, Elias wouldn’t likely survive such a spell. He probably had a few damage protections, but not enough to reduce the fire attack to 64 points, which would be just below half. Selina had 184 Hitpoints at level 12, but he knew the rogue was covered in magic protection spells and would probably survive.
“I’ll leave a sign on the door,” Hector said.
“And your warnings have kept Selina away in the past?” Elias asked, already knowing the answer.
“That isn’t my problem,” Hector smiled. “Besides, she should survive one attack, probably even two. She should learn after that.”
“And then she probably won’t ever sleep with you, but hey, it’s your stag party.” Elias returned to his preparations.
“How is the spell able to generate so much power?” Hector asked, hoping for clarification on something that bothered him. “Shouldn’t a spell like this need 500 points of mana to recharge it each time?”
The warlock smiled. “That’s why I’m tying it to a demon.”
“A demon?” The shock on Hector’s face mirrored what Elias had shown when the fighter had produced the goblin. The fighter quickly realized that what seemed easy for him was difficult for the warlock and vice versa. Still, a demon?
Elias recognized his concern. “Don’t worry. Ignis Ardeat is barely a demon, and he doesn’t deal in demon fire. He uses the power of the lower realms and turns it into simple mage fire, so he is able to produce much more of it cheaper than other demons.”
“But he still needs a sacrifice?” Hector asked.
“There’s no way around that,” Elias said. “Now, hold him steady.”
Hector nodded and pushed the goblin against the floor. With the creature bound, his fire abilities weren’t available. However, the berserker could still initiate his rage abilities, and the goblin squirmed and fought against the powerful fighter to no avail. Within a round, the player had the sacrifice motionless before his closed door.
Elias had embedded a few rubies under the knocker and now drew patterns in the air between the monster and the door. Hector wanted to distance himself from the dark magic but knew he needed to hold the goblin as motionless as possible. He felt the mana surge before him as a fiery link sprouted from the goblin’s chest and arched into the door. The warlock swayed back and forth with the spell and pulled an ornate dagger from his cloak.
Elias held the weapon high and then plunged it into the goblin’s chest. The completion of the spell released way more energy than Hector expected, and the human fighter flew back and crashed into the opposite wooden wall. The half-elf warlock also went flying, but he sailed parallel with the hall and traveled 30 feet before he hit a stone pillar at the end of the passageway.
Hector recovered first and returned to inspect the scene. He had assumed the goblin would have been consumed, but the body still lay on the floor, the dagger resting harmlessly beside it. The fighter rushed forward to secure the monster but then hesitated. It wasn’t the goblin. This new creature was the same size and rough shape, but he was leaner with a long spiked tail, red skin, and a more intelligent face. He looked like a minor demon, perhaps an imp.
Ignis Ardeat had not enjoyed the trip. Before he had rejected the dagger, he had felt the stabbing pain in his chest. Also, the physical realm was much colder than the depths of hell, and a persistent chill crept into his soul. He flared fire within himself with the power granted to him by his new master, Lord Cindava. As warmth flooded through him, he focused his eyes on the tall human standing over him, a shocked expression on his face. Ignis knew that the spell this player had just tried to cast shouldn’t have had this result. He understood the confusion.
“My name is Ignis Ardeat,” the demon said, standing up. “Though you have not intended to summon me, I am here at the behest of Lord Cindava. He is your master now. He dictated that I come to realms the next time someone summoned my power, for he has an important task for you to perform.”
“I . . . I . . . What?” Hector said.
Ignis sighed, hoping for better. “You shall bring me to Sylvester Tread . . .”
“Get thee back to hell!”
The demon turned at the interruption to see a half-elf warlock charging toward him, still suffering from a Dazed condition after hitting his head. Ignis sighed at the pompous speech from the lowly player.
“I hath summoned thee, and thou shalt obey my every . . .”
Ignis unleashed a gout of demon fire toward Elias, and the player was once again thrown from his feet and hurled backward, dead before he hit the stone pillar again. The demon spun back to Hector. “Where was I? Oh, yes . . . You shall bring me to Sylvester Treadstone, a level 12 tracker. He will be waiting for us at his stronghold a mile outside of Portsmith.”
Hector looked over the short demon to see Elias burning as if he were soaked in oil, the beat-red flames spreading to the wooden hallway. He didn’t know what to say. “But . . . I . . . I mean . . . What about my door?”
Ignis looked up at the door beside him, decorated with rubies but otherwise unremarkable. “What about it?” he asked but then figured out what the human and half-elf must have been doing. “Oh, you were cursing the door. You won’t need that anymore. You are to come with me.” Ignis knew the rules of the realms wouldn’t let him travel without the aid of a player.
“But what if Selina comes back?”
Ignis shrugged his shoulders. “Is she your mate? Why did you wish to burn her? Is that some strange human sex ritual?”
“No!” Hector said. “I mean, I don’t think so. I mean, Elias thought . . .” his eyes went back to the dead player at the end of the hall, which was now truly on fire.
Ignis grew frustrated at the dense player. He extended his left hand toward the door and released another burst of demon fire. The wooden panel ruptured from its hinges and exploded into the empty room. The demon let his arm flow back and forth, drenching the space in flames. Ignis ended the spell, but the fire continued raging within Hector’s old room.
“My stuff?” Hector cried, almost rushing into his room. He realized the stupidity of the venture in time and saved himself a certain death.
Ignis sighed. “When your Selina steps into your room, she will get all the fire she can handle. If you come with me, you can have any woman you want, and I will replace all your items with magical upgrades. Now, bring me to Sylvester Treadstone before I find someone else.”
Hector finally realized he didn’t have much choice in the matter. The short demon didn’t have a level or Hitpoint counter above his head, so he didn’t know how wise it was to attack the creature. “I’ve been to Portsmith before,” he said. “I didn’t have the guts to go to the Gilded Swan, but I completed a few quests in the outskirts.”
“Good,” Ignis said. He didn’t know what golden birds had to do with anything, but at least this player knew where Sylvester was. The tracker was one of his master’s favorite followers. “Let’s go.”
Hector took one last look at the burning building, nodded toward the demon, and hurried toward the staircase that would lead them to the relative safety of the Non-PVP city. Ignis followed behind, trying to think neutral thoughts. He knew Cindava monitored his thoughts, so he tried to disguise his negative thoughts regarding this mission as disapproval of his human guide. Ignis did not want to help his master obtain Draeklynn Ember, but he was compelled to.
Sylvester Treadstone had dealt with Jace Thorne before and would know how to get close to the player who guarded Daeklynn. Then Ignis would be responsible for escorting the mage back to hell. He tried to mask his disgust at this assignment with anticipation of seeing the dragon mage in the flesh and possibly touching her skin or feeling her dragon fire released on him. Outside of those brief pleasures, he would take no delight in bringing the young woman to his master, and he saw no way how anyone would be able to stop him.
The END
And there we have it. Almost 700k words. Took two years to write. If you made it this far, please leave a comment or rating. I would really appreciate it. My plans now are to reread this huge thing and make all the retroactive changes I need to. I adjusted the rules so many times that I'm worried about what that first fight Jace had with the goblins will look like. I have ideas for further stories. I have a pretty well-thought-out short story with Esther and Psycho. Another one with Gromphy and Draya. And then two more novel length ideas that are stand-alone stories that don't tie into a larger story like these three novels did.
But, for now, I will work on polishing these stories and eventually publishing them. If you would like updates on when that happens, please follow and be a little patient. I will probably post one of the short stories to announce any updates. Thanks again.