CHAPTER TWO

Welcome to the Loom

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At Bram’s command, the attendants manned their stations with expressions of excitement and apprehension. There were ten of them. All of them were local—commoners from Reise, the quaint little town bordering the still-unfinished players’ campus—with all of them sworn to secrecy by the spell of the ‘Unbreakable Vow’ that was a curse of death to any who broke it.

This seemed a harsh condition for being hired, certainly, but secrecy was of the utmost importance to ensure other nobles didn’t notice the great undertaking’s activities. Especially not those nobles of the north who plotted against Bram’s rule. Nor the nobles of central Atlan who’d given their seventh prince an untenable nine-month deadline to save the Kingdom of Lotharin from its decline as if they were hoping for him to fail.

There were five months left until the Midwinter Solstice Ball, and despite the odds, today looked very promising for the prince who’d recently shaken off his ‘ill-fated’ moniker.

“Remember your lines and your training, and we’ll get through this without—”

Bram paused.

He caught sight of glittering eyes—the telltale spark of magic—and he couldn’t help feeling a little jealous of these attendants who all possessed more magic in their veins than he ever would.

“Don’t waste your magic on calming spells.” He smiled encouragingly at them. “You’ve got this. All of you.”

Bram had such a charming smile that the womenfolk among the attendants couldn’t help but swoon, their cheeks flaring crimson as he trained his smile on them. Indeed, even the menfolk blushed at witnessing their handsome prince glancing their way.

See, I can’t wield sorcery like you all can, but I don’t need it to make you love me for a little while.

Bram heard a familiar giggle in his mind—and then it was his turn to blush.

Your neck must have a hard time holding up such a big head.

Rowan had entered his mind again. These days, she could do it without needing to cast a spell. That’s how strong their bond had become.

Must you always tease me?

Of course. ‘Tis part of the fun of our partnership.

“Bram,” Hajime called, drawing the prince away from his telepathic conversation, “you should man your booth too.”

“Right.”

Since he was already here, Bram might as well be useful. Besides, he’d read Bridget’s script front-to-back. He’d play the role of attendant easily. Nothing would go wrong.

“It’s showtime…”

Bram slid off the counter and moved into the booth behind him. He was just in time, too.

They could all hear the rush of footsteps coming from the sweeping staircase next to the wall with the enchanted mirror hanging from it.

“Don’t forget the preapproved greet—”

Hajime dived under his booth suddenly.

“Hajime?” Bram leaned to his left and looked down at his friend crouching behind his counter. “What are you doing?”

“I-It’s her,” Hajime whispered urgently.

“Who?”

“The security guard…”

Bram’s brow creased.

It took him a few seconds to understand.

About three months ago, Hajime and Chris had pulled off a trick that allowed the Loom to integrate with Earth’s banking systems. However, Hajime, who’d been inside the bank at the time, inadvertently caused a blackout, and he’d been acting so shifty that the bank’s security guard tackled him. Because of her, Hajime had spent a few hours in jail before the misunderstanding could be cleared up.

Bram’s gaze drifted toward the traveler leading the others down the staircase.

It was a woman.

She looked fit—much fitter than scrawny Hajime—with light caramel skin peeking out of her robe. Her hair was short and cut like a man’s. It framed a face with sharp features; long brows over almond-shaped, hazel eyes, a short, pointed nose, and puffy lips.

Bram turned to Hajime again.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-Yes!”

Bram turned to Rowan who was waiting in the booth to his right.

“Fate is a strange thing.”

“Meaning?”

“Some meetings are more than simple chance… And you’re about to have company, My Prince.”

Bram gazed forward just in time for Hajime’s security guard to arrive at his booth.

“Hi,” she said.

Her breathy, soprano voice made Hajime shrink even further down his booth.

Bram stared at his friend in judgment. You’re a trained sorcerer now…

She hits really hard, Hajime mouthed back.

“Hello?” the security guard called again.

Bram’s gaze drifted back to her, but instead of reciting what was in Bridget’s script, he found that he suddenly couldn’t speak. Hajime’s antics had disturbed his rhythm, and try as he might, not one word of welcome left his lips.

Bloody hell…what’s happening to me…?

“The, um,” the security guard pointed a thumb over her shoulder, “sorcerer…”

Having been around Bridget and Rowan, Bram could tell that this security guard had just resisted rolling her eyes after saying the word ‘sorcerer.’

“…told me this was where I complete my registration,” she finished.

Silence.

“This is the place, right?”

More silence.

Now that the moment was here, Bram seemed to have forgotten his lines.

In his mind, Rowan asked, Having a little trouble?

Of course not.

There’s no shame in it. Everyone has performance issues from time to time.

P-Performance issues?!

Bram blanched inwardly.

I’m a trained bard. I don’t have performance issues.

Despite his assertions, the words just wouldn’t come. Indeed, it wasn’t until the woman waved her hand close to his eyes that he finally unfroze.

“Hello~~o?” She frowned. “Is this a bug?”

This time, she did roll her eyes.

“Game’s just started and already—”

“W-Welcome!” Bram cut in.

He needed to take a deep breath before he could reply. It was a trick he’d picked up while learning to become a bard that was meant to calm his nerves. He hadn’t needed to use it until now.

“Welcome, Traveler.”

In his mind, Bram was chiding himself.

He wasn’t just Atlan’s seventh prince or Lotharin’s governor. He was a bard trained by one of the most famous troupes of the capital. To forget his lines wasn’t allowed, and to do so during a performance was a mark of shame he could never live down if any of his masters in the Delightful Troupe had seen him. Besides, he’d welcomed travelers before, so this wasn’t exactly a new experience for Bram. It shouldn’t have made him anxious, but he was. Perhaps because so much was riding on today’s success.

You can do this. These were words Hajime usually told himself. Bram thought them now to raise his spirits. You’ve got this.

He took another deep breath to ensure calm was his again. Only then did he finish his prewritten greeting.

“Welcome to the Loom, Traveler,” Bram flashed the security guard his usually charming smile, though it was slightly less charming at the moment, “I hope you survive the experience.”

She didn’t return his smile. She didn’t seem impressed by him either.

“You’ve said welcome like three times,” she complained, sighing. “Of all the available booths, I choose the one with a buggy NPC. God, I’ve got such shitty luck.”

Bram’s smile faltered.

He glanced sideways at Hajime to complain, but his friend shook his head as if to ask Bram not to draw attention to his hiding spot.

Bram sighed. We’re both such professionals…

Meanwhile, the security guard was looking over at Rowan’s booth. Having noticed that the traveler there had been offered a beverage, she turned back to Bram with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t I get one?”

“Right, welcome drinks.”

Offering guests a beverage had been part of Bridget’s script. Luckily, busying his hands by pouring sweetened elderberry tea onto a wooden goblet helped Bram calm down more. He slid the goblet onto her side of the counter and said, “Here — have a taste of what’s to come.”

One of the security guard’s eyebrows hitched up.

“It’s not like I’ll actually taste anything. VR these days is advanced but not enough to taste stuff.”

Stolen novel; please report.

She took a sip—and her eyes widened.

“Holy shit… How?”

The sweet taste of elderberry filled her mouth.

So much for not being able to taste anything.

Seeing her surprise brought Bram’s confidence back into gear.

“Did you enjoy the taste of elderberry?”

“I…”

This time, it was the security guard’s turn to be at a loss for words. She could only nod before taking another sip of her tea, which finally seemed to instill in her the wonder that Bram expected all travelers to feel when they first arrived on Aarde.

When she finished her tea, Bram asked, “Would you like a refill, or shall we proceed with registration?”

She eyed him curiously while letting him refill her goblet.

“You sound so real…”

“I am real.”

The security guard raised an eyebrow at him.

She seemed surprised by his quick response, and he could guess why.

It was mentioned in Hajime’s last report about virtual reality games that the machine that powered them—what Hajime called artificial intelligence—had yet to achieve the ability to interact with users on a conversational level, and yet here Bram was speaking to the security guard as if she were talking to another Earther.

“Interacting with NPCs like they’re real people, it’s the type of full immersion that will reel players to our game,” Hajime had once explained to Bram.

“But we are real people,” Bram had countered.

“We know that, but the players won’t,” Hajime had reminded him.

Today, Bram confirmed Hajime’s assertion.

“You’re tall,” the security guard said.

“I am,” Bram agreed.

Indeed, he was a tall, muscular youth who towered over most men.

“You work out?”

“Too busy these days, but I used to.”

Growing up, Bram had honed his body to extremes to gain a strength that could be his tool against sorcery. Though recently, with most of his time consumed by the great undertaking, Bram’s training was limited to sparring with Ser Anthony, the old knight who was both his guardian and his city’s seneschal.

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be working?”

“In the Atlan Imperium, one reaches adulthood at my age.”

“What’s the Atlan Imperium?”

“An empire that spans the entire continent of Gaullia.”

“Sounds big.”

“It is.”

“How big?”

“It has twelve kingdoms.”

“Seriously, who’s greedy enough to rule twelve kingdoms?”

There was a slight pause.

“Johanna Barbara of House Attilan is our Sovereign.”

Even now, saying his mother’s name was difficult for Bram. That’s how strained their relationship had become.

“This Sovereign…she’s a woman?”

“Yes.”

“Good for you.”

“Thanks.”

“The scenario’s a little woke, but sure, this is a fantasy game, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you?”

Bram just smiled.

He thought it was the perfect time to end the conversation. Rather, her subtle probing of the game’s, as Hajime called it, “Artificial Intelligence.”

“Let’s finish your registration,” Bram suggested.

He took out one of the scrolls stored underneath the booth and gave it to her.

“I’ve never felt this much sensation in a VR game before…” She brushed her fingers against its surface, marveling at how the smooth paper felt in her hand. “This feels too real.”

The security guard cast a suspicious glance in Bram’s direction.

“Are you really an NPC?”

“I…”

He stopped himself.

After studying Bridget’s notes on video game lingo, Bram knew the acronym NPC stood for non-player-character. Such a creature wouldn’t likely admit to being one.

He chose to deflect instead. “Aren’t you going to read the terms and conditions?”

Every video game had an ‘End-User License Agreement’ that laid out the terms and conditions for the game. In the Loom’s case, its EULA explained in writing an edited version of what Bram and Rowan had discussed with Chris and Bridget regarding their responsibilities, including the part where they bound their souls to Bram and Rowan upon becoming players.

“Waste of time.” The security guard returned the scroll to Bram. “They’re all the same anyway.”

Bram wasn’t surprised at her carelessness.

Hajime had told him that most players barely skimmed the EULA in their haste to play a new game.

Bram was certain the Loom’s EULA was nothing like anything the security guard had ever read, but he didn’t press the issue. He’d given it to her. If she didn’t want to read it, then it was her mistake to make. By giving it back to him, she’d already given consent.

“I hope you don’t regret it,” he whispered too quietly for her to hear.

Moving on, Bram took out a clay doll from underneath the booth.

“Wow, that looks like a voodoo doll… It’s freaking ugly,” the security guard commented.

Bram’s smile faltered slightly.

Compared to the meat doll Chris and Bridget gave their blood to, this updated version of a ‘soul binder’ was downright beautiful. It didn’t smell or look disgusting—a significant improvement, in Bram’s opinion.

“It’s ugly, but I like it,” she said.

The doll was just large enough to fit her hand.

“But what am I supposed to—”

Bram offered her a needle. “A drop of blood should do.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“In your own time.”

“Wow, this game is dark, huh?”

She eyed her needle and doll warily.

“Any chance I can skip this part…?”

Interestingly, the security guard wasn’t the only one to feel an aversion for the ritual Rowan had created to ensure a soul was bound only to Bram and her. This was a measure to protect travelers from being influenced by other powerful beings like the capricious gods of Aarde.

“What sort of witchcraft nonsense are you peddling here?!”

Bram and the security guard turned their heads in Rowan’s direction.

The traveler who’d yelled at her was tall and well-built for a man who looked old enough to be someone’s grandfather. He had neatly cut gray hair on a face weathered by age…and something else. Bram had seen that same look on Ser Anthony. It was the tired face of a soldier who’d survived too many battles.

“Hell no, I’m not doing this!” the old man growled.

When people growled at Rowan, they were usually met by the tip of her ‘Bloody Falchion.’ This old man was lucky that the trickster was sticking to her role. She offered him a smile, the kind of warm and endearing smile usually reserved for Bram.

“Damn,” the security guard breathed, “that NPC’s gorgeous…”

If even she’d been affected by a glancing blow of Rowan’s charm offensive, then the old man who’d been hit with its full blast was down for the count. He lost his attitude and pricked his finger with the needle as Rowan had asked.

To his surprise, the doll that received a drop of his blood morphed into a tiny version of him.

“Oo~~oh, Grandpa Jonno, you got a pop too,” cooed the young woman who appeared beside the old man.

Unlike him, she was short. Her hair was long and golden and tied back in a pony. They shared the same eyes though, bright and green like a spring leaf.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” She raised her thumb to show off where she’d pricked herself. “I can still feel it. Crazy.”

“Remind me, Nore, how’d you rope me into this…job?” Grandpa Jonno asked.

“You agreed to help your granddaughter make content for my stream. And you love me,” Nore answered confidently.

“Right. We’ve done that. Can we log out now?”

“No, we’ve barely started.” She slapped him playfully on his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying walking around without your cane.”

Grandpa Jonno’s frown faltered slightly.

“Fine — it can’t hurt to go outside for a bit.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

Nore noticed Bram and the security guard looking her way, and she waved at them before running back to the booth on the opposite side of Rowan’s, but not after reminding Grandpa Jonno to stop being a cranky old man.

With the scene finished, the security guard turned back to Bram with glittering eyes.

“Shit, that was Nore,” she whispered excitedly.

“You know her?” Bram guessed.

The security guard nodded. “She’s a rising star streamer with nearly a million followers on Quiver.”

Bram’s brow creased.

“Quiver…?”

“It’s a streaming platform. Mostly for gaming.”

An NPC wouldn’t know what streaming meant, but Bram had already been taught the meaning of these alien words in Bridget’s ‘Game Lingo’ seminars. He couldn’t admit to this though. So, again, he chose to deflect.

“You sound like you know her well.”

“Well, yeah. I follow Nore on Quiver.”

The security guard hesitated. Then…

“I applied to be a tester to be a streamer like her. I need the money. Things haven’t gone well for me…”

She must’ve finally believed Bram was an NPC. Otherwise, he doubted she would share her problems with him. Learning she had problems of her own, well, the prince had a soft spot for the downtrodden.

“You can be.”

Bram pointed toward the doll in the security guard’s hand.

“If you dare to take that next step.”

“You know game registrations aren’t supposed to be this detailed…or strange.”

From the corner of his eye, Bram caught Hajime nodding his head.

It was true that most games wouldn’t spend too much time on what was essentially a character creation scene, but this moment in a traveler’s journey was the only opportunity the dev team had to convince them to sign their souls away to the great undertaking’s cause.

“Well?”

“Fine.”

She stabbed her finger with the needle.

“I’m not just here to play around…”

Once a drop of the security guard’s blood fell onto the doll, it morphed into a tiny version of her, completing the contract ritual that bound her soul to the great undertaking.

A new notification appeared in the air, one they could both see.

To complete your registration, please choose a moniker by speaking it aloud.

“It’s Nike.”

Welcome, Nike!

“Interesting name,” Bram nodded. “Does it mean anything?”

“It’s the name of a goddess of victory.”

Curiosity flashed on Nike’s face.

“Does this world have gods?”

“We have many gods, though none stand for victory.”

Bram gave Nike a promissory note of ten silver griffins as a reward for completing her registration.

“You can exchange it at the Bank of Steel’s branch here in town.”

He paused, hesitated, and then decided his first customer of the day deserved a hint only he could give.

“If you’re willing to risk going broke, ten silvers might be enough to buy you a decent weapon at the nearby smithy.”

“Hold on — the summoner said we were getting equipment?”

This was a reasonable ask. It wasn’t like Nike could fight fel beasts or complete quests wearing only the flimsy robe she’d been given upstairs.

“Gear’s in the workshop on the floor below.” Bram pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “It’ll be basic equipment. Nothing more.”

“Then why do I need a better weapon?”

Bram hesitated to answer at first, but having favored her once already, he might as well go all the way. Meaning he was about to give her a quest no other traveler would receive.

“You want to be a star. Here’s how.”

He snapped his fingers, and the system menu appeared.

QUEST CREATION

TUTORIAL QUESTS

RED QUESTS

Among the quests the dev team created for the ‘Feast of Travelers,’ only one was in the highest difficulty list. To complete it, having a good weapon would be the bare minimum requirement.

ALERT! Would you like to activate this quest?

“To become successful here in Aarde,” Bram tapped on [YES], “you need to learn how to survive against any threat.”

A notification popped up for Nike.

TUTORIAL QUEST: Slay a Red Grizzly!

Of all the beasts that called Sundermount home, the red grizzly was one of the fiercest. Facing it would be a harsh challenge for a new player.

Accept the quest?

YES NO

Though he didn’t encourage her with words, the challenge was clear in Bram’s expression. He didn’t think a woman who named herself after a goddess of victory would decline his challenge…and she didn’t.

“Right.”

Nike glanced briefly in Nore’s direction.

The blonde was already moving toward the staircase on the opposite side of the hall.

Venus

Bram and Nike saw the green tag that briefly appeared over her head.

“I’m going to be a star.” Nike tapped on [YES]. “Ready player one.”

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Quick note:

As promised in the first Character Creation event, characters created by readers will show up in the story.

Nore and Grandpa Jonno were created by reader @Keetarin who submitted their character sheet in the RR event page. XD

Thanks @Keetarin for contributing to the story!

More reader-created characters coming soon, gang!

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One final note: The Forum event's first SCENARIO was dropped on Discord. It's [The Loom's Trailer Reaction!]. A lively discussion's already begun in the FORUM channel. Hope more readers give it a shot too. XD