Crossing back into the town's light brought me back to my thoughts. As I passed the flooded merchants' quarters, I couldn't help but see the smiling faces that flooded the cluttered market. Bustling, the place was alive and thriving, but only just here. The grins spread ear to ear as gold exchanged hands freely and often.

This area was home to only a few adventurers now, but those with fishing or port businesses still flocked to the town. A couple of sailors, adventurers geared for the Arctic North Seas, chatted up a crafter. A few small pacified goblins peddled their wares for those around. It was a jovial mood. The wind let a light breeze flow through the district's cluttered streets, and the sun peeked over the horizon, setting for the world to sleep.

Nonchalantly, I walked up to a merchant selling rosy apples, took one, followed that with a healthy bite, and flipped the cloth-covered man a silver jot.

Everything seemed fine, yet something inside of me tugged at my soul.

The question began to fill my mind, and it repeatedly replayed like a bard given too much ale does his favorite tune.

That question was: Why wasn't I happy?

I had seen and felt much worse, yet ever since I arrived, the thin veneer of our realm has been chipping away at what I once thought was contentment. Back there, on the shattered lands, coming here was all I dreamed of and could ever want. I promised myself that if I ever was to return...I would be happy.

All the flaws, the ones I have always overlooked, are now jarring. Those NPCs, the derogatory term used for people of the realm, now seemed more stepped on, more trodden than ever before. Had things worsened in the last six years I've been gone, or have I opened my eyes to the truth?

With a tap on the shoulder, I turned to meet Roger. Surprised, I smiled and allowed him to lead me towards a small cafe on the crest of the merchant district.

Finding a table off towards the corner overlooking a distant pier, we were given a picturesque backdrop.

He opened his mouth to talk, but with a raised hand, I motioned for him to wait.

With pointed fingers, I gestured to the sun that kissed the stormy sea, to the refracted light and how it bounced off the waves and into the sky, to the moment worthy of a lifetime.

I didn't say these things with words, but I hope my eyes did.

He stayed quiet, basked in the glory, and we remained that way for the rest of the sunset.

Rodger broke the silence first,

I can't remember the last time I watched a sunset.

Me either. It shouldn't be something we take for granted as much as we do.

We take everything for granted, always.

Well, it's time we change that then.

I shot him a smile, and we ordered a few drinks. It was not meant to get us drunk; it was just something to hold and sip while we talked.

And we had a lot of talking that needed sipping.

After a few rounds, with the crescent moon slicing the blackness around it, I caught Roger up. His face had gone through every spectrum of emotion, but he never stopped my words. He listened and attempted to hold back, but Roger was too much of a good guy not to wear his emotions across his face. He had been a good guy, and as I got to know him again, he reinforced my hope in those good guys of our realm. Even in trying times, when hopes are dashed, and everyone else runs, good guys get better.

At least Roger had.

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His hair was jet black against the dark backdrop of the night. His eyes were a golden brown set underneath a pair of bushy brows with a face that screamed farm hand. Yet, a placid power behind those eyes called forth my power from my soul's warren. As if asking to dance, to be unleashed. It made me uneasy.

Like a wave growing in strength from a distance, I knew it would crash sooner or later. Just not now; Rodger's power was still far from breaking the system's grasp. I wanted to know if there was a way I could aid him in growing and breaking free.

Shaking my head, I let those thoughts go. How could I help someone on their path when I barely know my own?

Damn, so Jude herself will be at the helm of this expedition. Doesn't it worry you, captain? Getting involved with a woman like that. Women are vixens, and powerful ones can crack not just the hearts of men but the realm itself. We know that firsthand.

I responded with:

Strong women are fierce. But she's got a fire in her eyes that does not seem malicious. Yes, she serves a purpose, but is her cause evil? Is she in the wrong? Who can be the judge?

To this, he looked at me quizically as he added:

Well, the system gives quests to hunt her down. There's even a mythic quest for whoever brings her head to the capital.

Taken back, readjusting myself on my seat, I replied.

I didn't know that. When I left, her bounties had been notorious, but nothing worthy of that. To become the system's enemy makes me like her that much more.

Rodger's face turned uneven, his emotions wearing on him once again; he had something more he wanted to add. With my eyes and a head movement, I motioned for him to talk.

I can feel it a little, too, ya know, cap. That breaking feeling. It's like this piece of me urging me to do more, to try more. But doing so would go against the system. This beautiful power that, if you follow, can give you the strength to rival the highest powers of the realm…

Cutting him off, I retorted.

No, not the highest powers. It gives you the strength always to be where it wants you to be. Your gear and power are always attuned to the current power level of what the system deems—never growing beyond it. That's what that urge in you is. Our blood, the part from behind the rift, urges us for more. The stories say that the men from the other side were greedy folk who had explored and conquered the world ten times over, so they opened a gateway into the realm and were met with their perfect match: the system. A being that would constantly add new challenges to the realm, always being beaten but never defeated. Living in the realm is to wage a forever war.

So, deep down, our souls are urging us to grow for what reason?

Taking my time, ingesting the air and the folk that had gathered at the quaint little cafe, which had now turned on its hung oil lanterns and begun to play their slow, melodious music, I let the question hang in the air, joining the fireflies that buzzed about, creating a spectacular show for the kids who reached at them with open hands as if reaching for the brightness that all children hold deep inside, the exact brightness that wanes as one realizes what living truly is.

We were to conquer this realm, not simply defeat the latest expansion, not grow lethargic and plump in the time between new content.

Once again, my words broke off as I felt the air change around us. My words had broken the spell of joy.

The food, song, dance, and fun that filled the cafe now turned night-town pub had escaped my reach. My thoughts had invaded the world around me, sucking the color from its edges, from the beautiful realm.

It wants us to do what we were meant to do all along. To defeat the system, not lounge in the realm forever. We must destroy the system and move on to the next.

What lies after, captain?

I don't know, but...

Standing up abruptly, causing a flutter of eyes to dart my way. Ones that spoke of what we were and would always be: adventurers and troublemakers of the realm. Invaders.

Let's get moving. We'll find out and handle that when the time comes.

With a confident grin, Roger met my words. Following my lead, we made a path out of the pub full of those with merry spirits, without the knowledge that within a week, this area would never be the same, not ever again.

Times were changing—fate called upon the heroes to destroy the foe of the forever war.

The night then took a turn once more. After a moody start, all it took was a bar maiden with the compliments of the house to snowball the whole night into debauchery. Into the night, we sang and danced. A traveling performing minstrel was in town. They had a funny name and even funnier attire, but damn, could they sing like birds let out of their cage for one night's play.

On the winds of mine.

On the backs of man.

Another spin does turn the wheel of time!

Those were the last conscious verses I could remember before the black veil of alcohol was placed over my mind.

The rest was lost to the night, just as the small gold pouch I had equipped at my sides and the knuckles won from Mayhem were.

Shit, I thought as I awakened in some androgynous alleyway, smelling the stink of the city's waste, swatting the flies that landed on me and a naked Roger who looked worse for wear.

Wake up, Roger. We've been robbed by a far too good time.

I said it with a smile and a laugh. After all, what use was grumbling now?

With a muddled gaze and eyes that said he expected as much, Roger got to his feet, opened his inventory, and, within moments, was dressed once again.

I'm sorry, captain. I Should have kept my wits about me if you were going to get drunk like that.

With a laugh, I retorted.

A captain acts, expecting those to follow. If I get dumb drunk, I hope you do the same. But with your lack of surprise, I find it this isn't your first time waking up in such a way. You even had a pair of extra clothes on you, boy.

His eyes darted away, down the road, as if hiding in plain sight. He was red and flustered.

I should have kept that to myself; my words only embarrassed the boy.

You've caught me, captain. I took up a sorry habit out here that I plan to break with our journey ahead.

Consider it broken. From here on out, we've got work to do that transcends anything we've ever taken on before.

Saying nothing more, I walked down the alleyway into the morning light, with Rodger following close behind.