373 days until the Arkon Shield falls

“We cannot win this fight,” I said when the room had emptied.

The old lady studied me for a moment. She didn’t dispute my words, but nor did she give any hint that she agreed with me. “Tell me why. I’m listening.”

I resumed my pacing, gathering my thoughts. “What do we know of the human gang?” I asked eventually.

“We don’t have a firm tally of their numbers,” Jolin said, “but the scouts’ estimate there must be at least two hundred of them.”

Five against three hundred. Even worse than I thought. “Tara and Giselle don’t have the numbers to prevail,” I said bluntly.

“True enough,” Jolin said, “That’s why Petrov and another three hundred soldiers will set out tomorrow morning. They were only waiting for you to arrive.”

“Ah,” I said. That was better, but the odds still weren’t good enough for my liking. I continued pacing.

“Jamie,” Jolin said softly, “tell me what is bothering you.”

I drew to a halt in front of her and blew out a troubled breath. “It’s Jhaven,” I admitted. “Eight hundred soldiers might have a chance—if a small one—against one hundred orcs and two hundred humans.” I bowed my head. “But even working together, Lance and I cannot defeat Jhaven.” The admission came hard, but I knew it to be true.

If it was me alone, perhaps, I would have rolled the dice anyway. But this time, it would not just be my life at stake, but the lives of eight hundred of Sierra’s people and untold numbers of civilians from the enemy settlement. I couldn’t risk it. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t think we can defeat the orc company.”

I kept my head bowed, not wanting to see the disappointment in the old lady’s eyes. I knew she was counting on me to win this fight for Sierra. But I could no longer ignore my own limits.

“Jamie, look at me,” Jolin said.

I raised my head.

There was no expression on the old lady’s face, and for a drawn-out moment, she studied me intently. I did not shirk from her examination; I squared my shoulders and met her gaze. While I feared being found wanting, I would face her judgment head-on.

“You’ve changed,” Jolin said at last.

Those were not the words I was expecting. “Ma’am?” I asked in confusion.

The commander smiled. “You’ve grown.”

My consternation deepened.

The old lady laughed at my expression. “I don’t disapprove of anything you’ve said, Jamie. In fact, I agree with your assessment.”

I blinked. “You do?”

Her eyes twinkled. “I do.” She shook her head minutely. “It just… not the response I expected from you.”

I frowned. “Why?”

The commander’s mirth faded, and she stared at me appraisingly again. “You’ve changed,” she repeated.

I waited for her to go on.

“A week ago, you surprised me by not entering the Dead Hollow dungeon. Now this.” Jolin held my gaze. “The old Jamie would never have admitted to being unable to overcome any obstacle; the old Jamie would’ve charged in and damned the consequences.”

I bit back an instinctual protest, knowing her words to be true. “You’re saying I was reckless?”

Jolin smiled. “Perhaps not reckless, but shall we say… overly enthusiastic?” Seeing the sudden reddening of my face, she added, “Don’t mistake me. I don’t fault you for it, Jamie. Aggression is a necessary trait.” Her expression grew serious. “One that serves young soldiers well.”

“But?”

Another smile flickered across Jolin’s face as I anticipated her thoughts. “But sooner or later, every soldier must learn to temper aggression with restraint. Those that do become exceptional.” She paused. “Those that don’t die young.” She met my gaze. “I’m glad you’ve managed to find your balance.”

I nodded slowly. Jolin, as usual, was right. “What do we do about the orcs then?” I asked, returning to the matter at hand.

Jolin sighed and looked away. “We can’t beat the orcs but don’t need to defeat them to help the civilians.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re suggesting a rescue operation?”

Jolin nodded. “I am. Tara and Petrov have been instructed to only engage the orcs if necessary. If it comes to a pitched battle, they have orders to flee.”

I fell silent for a moment. “Even if everything goes off without a hitch, the operation will reveal Sierra’s presence.”

“True, but that can’t be helped,” the commander said.

“I see,” I said, thinking through the implications. Jolin was risking open confrontation with our Patrons to help the enslaved citizens of an unknown settlement. I didn’t disagree with her goals, but I also didn’t think we were ready to face off with the orcs. I could see no way around it myself, though. “What are my own orders, ma’am?”

“Aid Petrov and Tara however you can,” the old lady said. She hesitated for a second. “Also, if the chance presents itself, kill the shaman.”

I winced. That was a tall order.

“But rescuing the villagers remains the primary objective,” Jolin stressed. “In no way should anything else be allowed to compromise that. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I murmured.

“Good. You and Petrov will leave at first light tomorrow. It should take a little over a day to reach the camp Tara has established in the mountains. By then, Giselle will have arrived as well.” Jolin paused. “How you four fulfill your objectives is up to you. I will not micromanage our forces from afar.”

“Understood, commander,” I said. “But that doesn’t leave me much time to prepare. I’d better get going.” I had a long list of tasks that I had to attend to before we set out. Knowing a shaman was entangled with this mission only made finishing them more critical.

Jolin waved permission for me to leave. “See you in the morning, Jamie.”

I nodded and hurried out of the room.

✽✽✽

I left the village hall with my head buzzing. Recently, matters had moved rapidly, and I’d bounced from one crisis to another. First Zumen and the fort, then Jain’s people and the unique dungeon, and finally this.

I hadn’t even told the old lady about what I’d learned from Jain, and now sharing the news would have to wait for tomorrow. I considered the village’s darkening streets. Where to first? I wondered. There were too many things I had to do about town and not enough time for them all.

The temple, I decided.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Head bowed, I rushed through the settlement. Reaching the market square, I hurried through the crowded quarter and limped up the temple steps, not pausing as I passed through the portal.

You have exited Sierra.

I took a moment to regain my equilibrium. I was back on the sandy dunes of Wyrm Isle. And this time, rain pelted the island. Urgh. I stared up at the overcast sky, wondering not for the first time where the island was located. Was I still even in Overworld?

Aurora popped into existence, wings fluttering and face contorted into a scowl. Not in a mood to deal with the purple woman’s perpetual anger just yet, I stepped past her without heed. My attention was fixed on the stone tablet with the messaging system. Since leaving Sierra, my concern over Eric and Emma had been growing exponentially.

It had been a while since my friend’s last communication, and I was almost afraid to open the message books and find he had failed to respond again. Stemming the dread curling in me, I stepped towards the white book. Despite it being exposed to the elements, not a single spot of moisture marred its cover.

“Why are you here, human?” Aurora demanded from behind.

Ignoring her, I opened the book and sagged in relief as I saw a message waiting.

Message from Eric Anders to Jamie Sinclair: Bud, I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear from you. By the sounds of it, you’re thriving. Emma and I are doing well too, don’t fear.

The orcs’ hunt for you is escalating, but they remain unaware of any connection between us. Emma and I are being cautious though, and staying within the bounds of the city. The orcs may be more powerful than the gnomes, but the little people still rule the city. They’re not going to hand over any of their citizens willingly, believe me.

Anyway, as to your request, I’ve had a chance to investigate, and from what I can tell, champion cores are a key crafting ingredient. They’re used to create all sorts of autonomous creatures. You heard me right. Constructs, golems, robots, metal creatures, whatever you want to call them, you need a core to make it.

I’m not sure if you know this yet, but gnomes are Overworld’s preeminent magical crafters. Every gnome artificer has a construct following him around.

Anyway, the gnome I asked about the core was keen to learn how I got hold of one. I tell you, their artificers will pay a fortune for the things. Don’t lose the one you got!

But back to the constructs. A core’s primary purpose is to allow an artificer to animate and communicate with their mechanical creations—sorry, golem—that’s the gnomes’ preferred term. As to how golems are made, I have no idea. That is a closely guarded secret of the artificer guilds.

Another thing. My source was reluctant to mention this, but it seems that although the art of golem making is known only to gnomes, non-gnome mages have been known to closely replicate their efforts using living creatures. From what I managed to elicit from her, I gather that while this alternate process is more straightforward, the chances of it succeeding are less. It’s why artificers prefer working with non-living creatures.

There is something else too, but I hesitate to even bring it up. It’s little more than a rumor, but I’ve heard suggestions that champion cores, and perhaps even other cores, have another use, one that no one wants to talk about. I’ll keep digging and see if I can uncover more, but that’s all I got for now.

Stay safe, bud, and hope to hear from you again soon.

Eric.

I blinked against the sudden flood of tears that threatened as I digested my friend’s words. They’re alive and well. “Thank God,” I murmured and dried my eyes with the back of my hand.

Opening the black book, I penned a quick reply.

Eric, you bastard, you’ve made me cry. I’ve been going crazy with worry about you two, and all this time, you’ve been safe!

In all seriousness, thanks for the information. I’ll put it to good use. About that other rumor you’re chasing down, forget it. It is dangerous knowledge, and I think I’ve found out what I need to know already, but more about that when I see you.

Oh, and if you and Emma are ever in danger and have nowhere else to turn, seek out the Sweetsong Merchants Guild. Tell them Jamie sent you and ask for Regna. They will help. Keep well, my friend.

Jamie.

I closed the book and turned around. Aurora was still waiting, her foot tapping.

“Finally!” she exclaimed. “Now, what do you want?”

“One moment,” I murmured, leaving her to stew a little longer. Eric’s message had given me an idea, and I wanted to pursue it further before I lost the thrust of it altogether.

Golems, I mused. It was a familiar term and the subject of countless games. Golems were magical creations, given false life by the gifts of their makers. I was no gnome artificer though, and I was sure I lacked the skill to make one. But it was the second thing Eric had said that intrigued me more.

My friend had hinted that any mage could create a golem from a living creature—or if not that, something akin to it. My thoughts flashed to Cedric’s undead. The idea that a beast could be turned into a similar sort of pet was fascinating.

What sort of creature will make a good pet? I wondered. A spider queen seemed a good choice, and I wouldn’t pass on a feral boar either. What about a—

My thoughts broke off as a slip of memory niggled at me. What had Jain said about Jhaven? I tugged at the half-remembered fact and it unraveled. Of course.

The rogue had claimed the shaman had been hunting for unique creatures. I frowned. Had Jhaven been searching for a beast to use as a pet? It made sense in light of what I now knew, and I was eager to pursue the possibility further, but…

I sighed, deflating. But as entertaining as it was to daydream about creating a pet, attempting to do so would have to wait for another day. After all, I have no living creature on hand to—

I froze, struck by another altogether incredible thought.

A living creature.

Moving slowly, as if afraid I’d be proved wrong if I hurried, I removed the elemental stone of fire from my pocket and turned it over in my hands.

The spirit within was alive. Very much so.

And I’d already communicated with it, sort of anyway. What would happen if I used a champion core on the stone? My breath caught as I dared to imagine turning the elemental into a pet. Could it be done?

Why not?

I did not know how I would go about it, but I was certain I had to try.

“… for the last time: why are you here? I warn you, if you keep ignoring me, I will leave and not return for a week!”

Aurora’s threat shook me free of my musings. My experiments would have to wait for later. Reluctantly shoving the crystal back in my pocket, I turned about to give her my full attention.

“I wanted to ask you about these,” I said equably, pulling out one of the creature champion cores. “Is it true that I can exchange it for Marks?”

Aurora eyed the cores in my hand, her ire not abated in the least. For a moment, I thought she would refuse to answer. “Yes,” she finally snapped.

I nodded at the confirmation of Jain’s words. “How many Marks will I get for each?”

“Five,” she replied testily.

“Five?” I breathed. That was almost three levels worth of ability points for every full core. I withdrew two more cores and shoved all three objects at her. The fourth, I retained for use later. “Then I wish to exchange these.”

Aurora waved a hand, and the cores disappeared from my palm. “So noted.” She glared at me. “Now, do you wish to spend any of your Tokens and Marks?”

I nodded. “I do.” By my calculation, I had enough skill points to increase the eleven Disciplines I had invested in to my current level cap. “Please increase my Disciplines of air, dragon, death, earth, life, and water magic, sorcery, anatomy, light armor, staffs, and lore to sixty-eight.”

Aurora closed her eyes for a moment before snapping them open a second later. “Done. You have nine Tokens remaining.”

My lips turned down. For the first time in what felt like a long time, my reserves of Tokens had shrunk nearly to nothing. Still, I thought, they had been well-spent. I was a more rounded player now than I’d been just two weeks ago, and I had no regrets.

I considered my Marks next. “Increase my Attributes of magic and spell power to sixty-eight as well, and apply my remaining Marks to constitution.”

“As you wish,” the purple woman replied. “Do you need anything else?” Despite the question, Aurora began turning away.

“Actually, yes,” I said, stopping her mid-motion.

She frowned and turned back to me. “Well, what is it?” she asked, her tone uninviting.

I studied her in silence for a moment. “Do other players have temple guides?”

The tiny purple woman did not reply immediately. Slowing the buzz of her wings, she alighted on the floor, and some of the anger seeped out of her. “Most don’t.”

“Why do I have a guide?”

Again Aurora took her time answering. “The Trials chooses who and who not to grace with a guide.” I opened my mouth to protest her non-answer, but before I could say anything, she went on, “Usually, only high-leveled players are gifted with a guide. Certainly, no Neophyte has ever been allocated a guide before.” She scowled at me. “You should be grateful.”

I bowed my head, doing my best to look suitably impressed. “I’m ever thankful for your advice,” I said blandly.

Aurora eyed me suspiciously.

I hurried the conversation on before she could dwell too long on my words. “Is it because of my dragon magic that you’ve been assigned to me?”

Aurora snorted and shook her head. “A good guess, but no. It was because you slew five players in your first moments in the Trials.” She paused. “And also because of the oath you swore in your mother’s name,” she added more quietly.

My brows jerked up. How could the Trials know about that?

“You forget, Jameson Sinclair. The Trials is in your mind, now. It sees and hears all your thoughts. Do not forget that,” Aurora said, correctly divining the cause of my surprise.

“How can—” I began.

But before I could reply to the purple woman’s startling revelation, she vanished.