391 days until the Arkon Shield falls

The runes of the Elders are just one of the many mysteries of the Trials we hope to uncover. Although we know beyond doubt that the runes are how players are enhanced, not even our best minds have been able to duplicate their effect. —Taura Biaxal, svartalfar mystic.

Your health pool has increased to: 63%.

It took Nicholas only fifteen minutes to stitch and bandage all my wounds. The medic applied a liberal dose of the green paste to each of my cuts before he closed them up. The paste, Nicholas claimed, would speed up my healing and prevent infection.

I nodded my thanks to the healer, who hurried off as soon as he was done. No doubt other patients needed his attention.

“How are you feeling?” asked Tara. Everyone else had left, some to haul off the dead bodies, some to stand guard, and others to tend to chores that I could only guess at. I still knew nothing of this place, except that it seemed to be run with something akin to military discipline.

And Tara, whoever she is, seems to be near the top of the command structure. While the others had run off, my mentor had remained, waiting for me with folded arms and a tapping foot.

“Much better,” I replied, holding out my arm to her. With Tara’s help, I staggered to my feet. The medic had done good work. I was pain-free and no longer bled. Yet my wounds tingled with a not-altogether-pleasant numbness, and my limbs felt lethargic. I frowned. Was it the paste’s doing?

I glanced at her. “What’s in the paste?”

“I’m not sure,” Tara replied. “And I am not entirely certain Nic knows either. It was something he and the other healers learned to make early on.” She shrugged. “Whatever it is, it works. In an hour, you’ll find that your wounds have closed and no longer trouble you. But until then, you will be weak. Can you walk?”

I looked down at myself. My clothes were an unholy mess and dried blood caked my limbs, hair, and face. I must look awful, I thought. But I felt no twinge of pain as I took a tentative step. “I can,” I answered.

“Good,” Tara said. “Here, lean on my arm. We have to go see the old lady now. She will want to know more about this Technique of yours.”

“The old lady?”

“She’s the one in charge here,” Tara replied as we made our way back up the riverbank. She shot me a glance. “You will do well to tell her everything.”

That was not happening. At least, not until I knew more of what was going on here, and how far I could trust this ‘old lady.’ Tara, though, had earned the right to know more.

“I have not told you everything, Tara,” I said.

She threw me a wry look. “Somehow, I didn’t think you had. Ready to tell me now?”

I nodded. “I have magic,” I admitted.

Tara froze mid-step. “What?!” she exploded, dropping my arm and swinging around to face me.

Abruptly robbed of her support, I swayed and was momentarily at a loss to reply. A nearby pair of soldiers, hauling murluk corpses, stopped to turn and stare at us, but at a glare from Tara they hurried away.

She waited for them to go. “If you have magic,” she said, biting off each word, “why did you not use it?”

“Because I don’t have any magic,” I said carelessly.

Tara’s brows lowered ominously.

“Spells. I mean I don’t have any spells,” I amended hastily. “I have Magic Potential, but not the skill to use it yet.”

Tara stared at me for a moment before narrowing her eyes and scrutinising me anew. A strange tingling suffused my body. She was using analyse on me, I realised.

Wondering why I had not done so earlier, I cast analyse on her in turn.

The target is Tara Madison, a level 32 human player. She has no Magic, has exceptional Might, is gifted with Resilience, and has meagre Craft.

Her level was not as high as I’d expected, given the ease with which I had seen her dispatch the murluks.

“Meagre magical Potential,” Tara murmured. “Not as much as could be hoped for, but a darn sight better than anyone else around here.” Tara pinned me with her gaze again. “Why did you not tell me earlier, before the battle?”

I considered the smaller woman for a moment. How much truth did I owe her? “Because I wasn’t sure if I could trust you,” I said finally.

Tara scowled, clearly not considering my answer adequate. “You could have been killed, you idiot!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you realise what a precious resource you are? As a potential mage, you are far too valuable to risk in battle. You should have told me!”

“Don’t mistake me for one of your recruits, Tara,” I said softly. “I followed you in battle because I was willing to do my part. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I am not under your command.” I paused to make sure my words had sunk in. “I am my own player,” I continued. “With goals of my own. Don’t forget that.”

Tara met my gaze without blinking, her back stiff with anger. After a drawn-out moment, she expelled a heavy breath. “You’re right,” she said, shoulders sagging. “I apologise. My words were uncalled for. It’s just that… survival in this world has been harder than any of us expected. We are barely clinging on as it is.”

She sighed. “We can’t go on as we have for much longer. Something has to change, or everything we built here will be destroyed.” She glanced up at me again. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I saw only the cost to our people if you died.”

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I didn’t say anything for a long while, mostly because I wasn’t sure what to say. I sympathised with their plight. I did. But earlier… I had nearly died with my stupid heroics. And if I had, who would avenge Mum? There must be thousands of humans in this settlement by now, all fighting for its survival. Yet, who was looking out for Mum?

Only me.

That moment on the shore, when I was at death’s door, had reminded me of my priorities. Vengeance came first. I couldn’t let myself forget that again. Ever.

But I also knew I needed Tara and her people.

I could not survive Overworld on my own. Not yet. There was much I still had to learn of the Trials, humanity’s place in this world, and my magic. For the foreseeable future my place was here… in location seventy-eight.

I will stay—for now. And while I did, I would do everything I could to help.

“Tara,” I said quietly. “I am grateful for what you did for me today. I know I wouldn’t have survived without you. For as long as I remain in the settlement, you can count on my help. I can promise at least that much.”

Tara scrutinised my face, perhaps because my pledge was not as unconditional as she wished it. But she did not pursue the matter further. “Thank you, Jamie,” she said simply. She bent her arm under mine and we resumed our journey.

Still thinking about magic and what it would mean, I added, “Don’t place too much hope in me, Tara. We don’t know enough of Overworld’s magic yet. It—and I—might not be the solution to all your problems.”

“You’re right,” Tara said. She glanced at me. “I won’t betray your trust, Jamie. I will keep your invincible Technique a secret if you wish, but I urge you to tell the old lady. You can trust her.”

I chewed on Tara’s words. I had used the Technique in front of dozens of soldiers. People were bound to wonder and speculate, and eventually figure it out. It didn’t make sense to keep it a secret. “Alright. I’ll tell her.”

Tara smiled. “Thank you, Jamie.”

We reached the top of the upper bank and Tara let go of my arm. I hadn’t had much chance to study the area earlier, so I took a long look around.

Directly in front of me was the dragon temple, and behind it a huddle of tents, enough perhaps to house a few hundred people. Farther east, beyond the tented camp, was a forest. To the left and right was open grassland, although in the far north I spotted the hazy outline of what could be hills.

I glanced up at the sky. It was just as blue as Earth’s, with a large yellow sun that seemed to shine brighter than Sol.

“Where are we going?” I asked Tara.

“There,” she replied, gesturing to the mass of tents in front of us. “The old lady will be in the command tent.”

I nodded as if that made sense to me. “What do you call this place?” I looked at her curiously. “You can’t just be calling it location seventy-eight.”

Tara shrugged. “We haven’t formally named the settlement yet. Mostly we refer to it as the Outpost.”

As we resumed walking, I looked around inquisitively. Less than a few yards from the edge of the upper bank, I spotted the shallow ditch we had crossed earlier.

Inspecting it carefully, I realised it was the foundation of a wall. The trench had been dug along the length of the upper bank, and fallen poles had been placed at regular intervals within it.

Noticing the direction of my gaze, Tara answered my unspoken query. “We’ve been trying to fortify the Outpost for days, but every time we make significant progress with its construction, the murluks destroy our work. It’s why we have taken to meeting the creatures at the river’s edge and not on the upper bank. If we can only hold them at bay there for a few days, then we might just give our crafters the time they need to complete the wall.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask about the creatures,” I said as we resumed walking. “Why do they attack?”

Tara chuckled. “Your guess is as good as mine. They’ve assaulted us since day one and seem determined to kill us off. We haven’t been able to learn as much about the murluks as we’d like. What we do know is that they are territorial and consider this stretch of river—including both shores—theirs.”

“Have your people tried reasoning with them? The murluks are intelligent, right? They must be if they bear arms and wear armour.”

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” Tara said with a grimace. “But as far as we can tell the creatures only possess a rudimentary intelligence—an animal cunning of sorts. No one has been able to detect any speech patterns in the noises they make, nor have we found a means of communicating with them. All attempts at negotiations have failed—disastrously.”

“Huh,” I grunted. I had not come across mention of the murluks in my study of the Trials Infopedia, so I was no better informed than Tara about the creatures. “Have you encountered others besides the murluks?”

“Far too many for my liking,” she replied grimly. “All hostile, too. I’m not sure if it’s just this area, or the whole Dominion, but you can’t go a day in any direction without being set upon by a monster wanting to kill or eat you.”

“So your people haven’t explored much?”

Tara shook her head. “What with the constant murluk attacks and other dangers, the old lady has decided to keep our forces close at hand, at least until we complete our fortifications. The only ones that leave the camp are the foragers and hunters, and with game so plentiful, even they never have to go beyond a few miles.”

So, anything can be out there, I thought.

I had more questions to ask about the old lady, the Outpost’s organisational structure, and Tara’s own place in it, but just then we reached the camp. As we passed the first tent, I sensed a charged heaviness to the air. What—?

Before I could delve further into the sudden strangeness, energy suffused me. Between one moment and the next, I went from feeling drained to being buoyed with new vigour. I walked with a new spring in my step and my pace quickened.

What in the world?

I was unsurprised when a Trials alert followed in the wake of the startling changes.

You have been blessed by an unknown player’s aura: commander’s own. While you remain within its field of effect, your might and resilience Attributes are increased.

You have been blessed by an unknown player’s aura: inspiring. While you remain within its field of effect, your health and stamina regeneration rates are increased.

“Buffs,” I murmured to myself.

Tara smiled knowingly at me. “That’s the old lady’s doing,” she said. “Nice, aren’t they?”

I nodded absently as I studied the area. We stood at the edge of the tented camp. The encampment was larger than it had appeared from a distance and likely sheltered thousands. The tents themselves were roughshod and primitive. Seemingly constructed from boiled leather hides, they had been poorly cut and sewn together.

The heaviness I’d sensed in the air was still prevalent. Some instinct made me open my magesight. As it unfurled, my vision exploded with rippling lines of energy. I bit back a startled yelp. Magesight revealed the entire camp to be covered by luminous filaments that criss-crossed in a dizzying maze.

The threads interconnected every human walking the camp. Looking down upon myself, I saw that the energy field had fused with my own being too, and in slow drips, fed and revitalised me with energy.

It is a mesh of spirit, I realised then. No, not one, but two meshes, I corrected myself. Following the twin weaves of spirit back their source, I saw that they rippled outwards from a tent which was twice as large as the surrounding ones and located nearly in the exact centre of the camp. That must be where the old lady is.

I opened my mouth to question Tara further, but before I could do so, she yanked on my arm. “Come on, quit dawdling.”

Wordlessly, I let her steer me towards the command tent, my mind still entranced by the delicate mesh overlying the camp. Is this what magic looks like? I wondered. Following hard on that thought came another: if Tara’s old lady already has magic, why do they need me?

We came to a stop in front of the large tent. Given Tara’s impatience to get us here, I expected her to barge inside. But instead, she shifted from foot to foot while she studied the closed tent flap. I eyed her askance. She was stalling, I realised.

Why is she suddenly worried?

“Before we go in there, remember to be polite,” Tara said finally. She refused to meet my gaze as she spoke. “The old lady can be a trifle… intimidating at times.” Not waiting for my response, she ducked inside.

I stared at the open tent flap, alarmed more by Tara’s display of nerves than by her ominous-sounding warning. What am I walking into? But whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than facing orcs or battling murluks.

With a shrug, I bent down and followed on Tara’s heels.