This is the original Story about Sama Rantha, back on Terra-Luna, written over ten years ago. She was a later addition to the storyline, when I realized that I needed someone there who was an obvious alternative to the Powered. The other stories about her posted on Royal Road all spring from this original story... the story of the gamer who became the game character, inherited the Sama Rantha template, took up Tremble, and proceeded to kick ass in the hardest way possible.

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                So, the world was supposed to end today.

                I sighed. No use playing, all the servers were down, everyone working at the Compound in Iowa was now out there being ridiculed by the media and rednecks, waiting for the sky to fall.

                I had it on the monitor, just cutting into a live TV feed. The media was having a field day, but they didn't get to interview the Archmage…he was out there on that big cement disk that he'd made there, and they had no way to get up there.

                It was definitely the big morning news. Zoom-ins of the reclusive guy were frequent. He didn't look all that exceptional, but of course that was on TV. Word is that in person he was something else.

                I sighed and sat back, what little I could. My wheelchair squeaked, and I extended a hand to steady the heavy Sword leaning against it.

                My Ten gift. Damn thing was made of tungsten. Tungsten! It was more then twice as heavy as steel. To use the damn thing you'd have to be a bodybuilder, and it would be awkward as heck, easily capable of breaking your wrists if you swung it wrong.

                I had no idea my gaming avatar was supposed to be that strong. Heh! The things you learn. I made sure it wasn't going to fall down, watched the screen with folded arms. Only a couple of minutes now to the skies falling.

                The Archmage there did not look happy. Despite myself, my palms were sweating.

                I didn't want to not believe him. I loved his game too much. To think he was a crackpot would just make me shudder. I'd given years of my life to the game, I even made a semi-good living off of it. I didn't want him to be crazy.

                I didn't want to leave the game if he was, and it was shut down. I didn't want to leave the game if it wasn't, and the skies fell.

                Tip of the Spear Sama Rantha. Search and Recovery Sama Rantha. Captain Sama Rantha, the only Ship to Coralost.

                Sama Rantha, Grandmaster of the Sword. Sama Rantha, the Sage of Swords.

                Sama Rantha, the Trembling Sage.

                My hands tightened on the hilt of the scabbarded sword. I hauled it up onto the arms of my chair, staring.

                I'd been diagnosed with diabetes young, I'd lost my feet the year after I started playing the game. I was in pain pretty much all the time now, circulation going, fingers starting the slow inevitable rot as my genetics let me down. I basically went out to go to dialysis at the St. James hospital, and otherwise, I went out in-game.

                In the game, I was something. Out of it, I was a slowly wasting diabetic who was going to be dead within five years, give or take.

                The basement apartment was cheap, I didn't bother anybody, didn't have parties, I kept things neat. My landlord checked on me once a day; it was written in my contract. Otherwise, who knows how long it might be before someone found me if I died?

                This was not some more depression that I wanted to battle with. In the game, I could pretend to be tough as nails, healthy as a horse, well known, competent, someone people knew and respected. In real life, I was just a waste of space getting ready to die, living out on the dole.

                Yeah, here was the timer, counting down. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

                On my screen, the sky very suddenly went black.

                I blinked.

                The sunlight coming in my window behind me suddenly went black.

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                A second later, two, three, as the screams were rising in the background and the cameras were tilting up to show stars in the middle of the day, the monitor went dark.

                I blinked again.

                Three seconds after that, the diodes on it went dark as the power failed.

                Oh. Oh! Oh…

                And then I heard a whisper in my ear.

                Do not look at the sky.

                Embrace the Magic.

                Defy the Magic.

                But do not let it choose.

                I was shivering all over. I didn't know if it was from fear or anticipation or giddy release from tension.

                A laugh escaped my lips. That had been the Voice of the Archmage. I'd heard it before in-game. There was no denying it. It had sounded in my ear. I imagine it had sounded in everyone's ears.

                The Magic. The Magic was coming. It was the End of the World as we knew it, but magic was coming!

                I wheeled back and away from my computer, out of my room, into the living room behind me, all the furniture carefully stowed against the walls and arranged to be easy to get into and out of from my chair.

                He said not to look at the sky. The trees in the back yard obstructed my view, so that was fine, but the ground outside was dark, no lights around me. Even the lights of the microwave and the oven's LED's were gone, and the backup natural-gas generator had not kicked on, which was also telling, as my landlord kept that in fine operational condition. You didn't want your heat going out in a Montana blizzard.

                I turned my head towards the back corner of the basement, where the oil furnace was. Huh. Well, it wasn't like I could get away at this point, unless I wanted to go outside on the grass and risk it there.

                I looked at the sword across the arms of my chair. I undid the peace bond knot with as much calm as I could, and as the strings fell, I pulled it part-way out.

                I stared at the glowing white Rune there.

                White, with a touch of gold. I wasn't 100% sure, but I was pretty sure it was some form of Healing magic. My heart started pumping in my chest, so hard it felt like it might burst, which was definitely not good for me.

                I drew the sword out further. The first ten inches of it were unsharpened, the rest of it as sharp as a razor. With very little hesitation, I grabbed that edge and ran my palm along it.

                My skin opened almost painlessly, or at least with no more pain then I had normally. Blood gushed out onto the dark metal, and aside from the warning tingle in my hand, it felt very much as if something was vibrating there.

                Slowly, I moved my dripping hand down over that Rune. Something hissed and sizzled as my hand came down atop it. I watched the blood start to spread out, extending from my hand, up the blade along twisting lines with a mind of their own, top and bottom. I pulled the rest of the scabbard and its belts away, holding it in my other hand, watching streaks of crimson extend up the blade, filling in Runework that was not actually there, smooth metal becoming something more, something decorated.

                The Archmage was whispering, and I felt a jerk, something washing over me, movement in some direction that was just thataway, grabbing everything around us. The grass outside lit up, but with illumination of no color I wanted to see.

                I looked at the scabbard in my hand, thinking. I lifted my bloody hand off of my Sword and put it on the scabbard.

                It grew warm in my grasp. My blood seemed to ignite; I gasped as something lit up that I could see right through my flaking skin. It washed down the Scabbard and belts, and more Runework that hadn't been there before came into being.

                I cut open my right hand, grabbed the Scabbard again, returned the left one to grab that glowing Rune.

                I didn't know if I was doing it right. I didn't know if I'd bleed out before whatever happened, happened.

                But he'd given me a choice.

                The same choice he'd given me when I made Sama Rantha.

                 Embrace the Magic.

                Defy the Magic.

                I'd chosen to Defy. I'd chosen the hard road to power, the hardest one. Hagchild Null Forsaken Melee.

                Female. Giving up the Curse of her magic. Melee. No spellcasting, no flying, no teleporting, no easy super-senses, or built-in ranged attacks.

                But someone who could grow to totally slaughter those who relied upon those things.

                The air thrummed, coming alive. I grasped the Scabbard and sword tighter; they seemed to be glowing brighter and brighter.

                I would be like Sama. I would Defy. I would take the hard road, the road of will. I would lose out on wonders, and I would gain will.

                As the Rune flared under my hand, as power seemed to rise up and smash into me, the oil furnace in the corner of the basement roared out a happy cry in what was no doubt ecstasy in Pyric, and exploded.