Chapter 7

Dear Jeremy,

Today was my first day going back to school. It was weird kind of different than what I expected. You probably wouldn’t believe me even if I told you what kind of school it is. My new friend Glyn tells me I’ll be able to go back home during break but everyone has to go with me. I’m not in Oregon with my mother unlike what you’d expect, but I talked with my family and they are not worried about me. My new friends are going to escort me and take precious time from their schedules so I can be with my family in the beginning of summer. I wish I could see you. I didn’t try to write to you, after you left, I’m sorry, I was too sad. Maybe you would have come back to me if I did it is my fault. I miss you. I decided to write because somehow you saved me, I don’t know where you are or why but you came back to me. Don’t worry about me I’m safe. Thank you! I want to see you so bad XOXO

Jeremy folded and pocketed the piece of paper that had suddenly appeared in front of him in this new environment. He looked out his blonde hair being tossed around by the hot wind. He knew not where he was, but he knew it wasn’t Earth. The ground was red the sky was black with no sun yet he could see. He knew he was still alive, and that this wasn’t a dream.

He had come back to see Amy, to ask for forgiveness. He was wandering the places Amy and him would walk. He was looking for his courage to apologize, and instead found Amy seconds from being murdered. Without realizing it he was already diving at the person standing over Amy. Jeremy didn’t neglect his daily regiment and had a strong body.

The ache of the ordeal could still be felt in his bones as he recalled the scene, the speed swift, claws that were sharper than steel, the strength dominating, the hunger in its eyes for his flesh terrifying. Jeremy was no match until a gap was shown a knife was pulled, and plunged deep into his enemy. His will to live, and fury gave him strength, for the flesh he wished to pierce resisted and seemed solid like stone. Yet his grip was true and he drove his knife into his enemy’s belly. It was one blow before Jeremy felt he would lose consciousness; it was a blow that contained the strong wish to live, to survive.

The thing screamed; it was a scream that seemed to want to ravage all the good things in the world. Piercing, echoing in his skull Jeremy sank to his knees, holding his ears. Through his clouded vision he saw his prey as he regained his feet and pursued with heavy steps. They both stumbled away, the man had dropped something.

All traces of reason had left Jeremy’s mind only one word remained: Kill. He grabbed the man’s hair from behind as he caught him, and with a steeled face, the moonlight gave a terrible glint to his enraged eyes, he shoved his knife in between the space where skull and neck meet. He grunted, and twisted the knife, then a little more. Hot blood rushed over his hands when he withdrew his blade. The body fell over, the man was dead instantly; it was a terrible display of violence, but he was a soldier who had killed before. Retreating backwards he stumbled, tripping at the stick like object the thing had dropped. He felt a pull towards it, invluntarily grabbing it. It was cold to the tough and that cold soaked into his arm. Then he was here.

That was three days ago, but now he was in what seemed to be an old medieval armory. A relic of bygone history. No other structure was left standing, save the sparse broken aged building material littered upon the ground. He turned back from the doorway to the outside, swords, spears, and pikes were hanging off the walls like curtains of steel. The further he went, the darker it became.

All Jeremy had was his pocket knife, the clothes on his back, and his keys and wallet. It wasn’t quite what he would have wanted if he were stranded in an obviously alien world. He examined the stick closer. Thin black and long. With knobs twisting around in a perfect spiral three quarters of the way from the end to the tip. In this cavernous space covered with cobwebs and deadly steel, one sword stood out, up a short set of stairs like it was on a display stage in a museum. All the other weapons were covered with the dust of countless years, the other metal appeared aged; yet, this sword remained youthful as if it were newly forged, defying the corroding touch of time.

The handguard was of gold, with a brilliant blade that gave off a greenish grey shine. Jeremy grabbed the dark brown leather handle and golden pommel. He held the sword in front of him. For two meters the great blade grew from the handguard, threatening and imposing. He sliced. The single edged blade whistled a menacing melody as it cleaved the air. Jeremy knew nothing of swords, but with each swing he could feel the magnificent balance. A weight that shifted to aid in the momentum of the sword, as if it was under its own propulsion, yet it felt light in the hands of the wielder. A single wave like edge brought a focus to his movements. Instinctively, Jeremy knew this sword should be wielded in strokes rather than strikes; for it harbored an unrelenting momentum that would cleave through the enemy ranks like water from a broken damn ravaging a forest.

In his left hand he could feel a menacing aura, a malice that made the wand cold to the touch but brought warmth to his hands, burning yet cold. Jeremy was highly intelligent, armed with a limber mind, and even though he relished in the brawls of action movies, he often viewed fantasy works with Amy; and he knew this wand was evil, filled with a malevolent strength.

He could feel emotions arise, an unquenchable lust for power to defend Amy, an irresistible temptation to beckon to its call. But Jeremy was steadfast, and a good man despite his flaws, and he would not be swayed by such things, instantly discarding the wand without a second thought. The sound of the stick falling to the ground echoed in this grand armory, thudding onto the pale stone floor as if it had the gravitas of countless ages.

He felt a chill run up his spine and quickly turned around, three dark figures were standing observing him, like wolves circling their prey. He grabbed the greatsword with two hands; and as if the weapon had a will and mind unto itself, he swung it into a defensive stance that would be admired and studied by many masters of the sword.

One figure had a spear, one a sword, and the other a bone staff. The one with the staff without an expression uttered a terrible tongue full of spite and ill will, and a dark violent violet ball of energy was shot at Jeremy.

Until a short time ago he indulged in the luxuries of the modern age; eating at a restaurant with utensils and a cloth napkin. Yet, that was then and this was now. Jeremy wasn’t a fool; he scoffed at the stories he and Amy explored: the films and stories where the characters could not accept a fantasy situation despite being in a modern setting where movies, tv shows, and books of such an occurrence were easily accessible and growing popularity.

Without question, without hesitation Jeremy began. It was a simpler situation, less glamorous than portrayed in various medias: it was a situation where they greatly desired his death, and like any sentient creature he did not want to die; it was a situation he was very familiar with as a man of war and violence. The sword moved in his hands as if under its own volition, and his body moved naturally with it. Without a thought he gave way to the movement of the sword emptying his mind relying on the pure instinct of a defending creature. With a whoosh his sword cleaved the ball approaching him with terrible speed horizontally, and it dissipated.

Jeremy did not feel the great oppressive weight of the sword due to its design. Like a pendulum it swung his hands rotated the follow through of the swift stroke and brought the blade beside his ear. For a moment the blade stood straight and strong, like a stubborn nail standing in defiance against the hammer of fate. Then like a rollercoaster cresting on the ascent, the sword tipped over and Jeremy spun and flew forward towards the magic wielder. The momentum of the sword aided him like he had wings on his feet.

The span of eight meters became like an inch as Jeremy split the opponent in two, along with the staff. It was as if his body became the blade, and he moved as if he was the sword articulated by a masterful hand. ‘This must be what using a grand sword is like’, he would later think to himself. Yet now, he was empty, the spear aiming to impale his temple was brushed away as he held his sword vertically upside down and drew it across his body from right to left as he pivoted. The force of the weight articulated his wrists, and the tip of the sword spun and fell downward from right to left like a hawk swooping for prey, and cleaved the arm of figure that clutched a single-handed sword; and the being was divided from left collarbone to right thigh. The spear wielder stepped back to gather momentum and sprang forward, lunging, swinging with its right arm it stabbed forward. Jeremy once again pivoted to the left like he was dancing, spun past the tip of the spear searching to rend his flesh, and bisected the last creature from stem to sternum to the crown of its head. The halves of its body fell in opposite directions as its rotted foul innards spilled onto the polished pale stone tiles; creating a pool of bubbling black blood and viscera.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

He was a soldier, but he was also human. He collapsed from the adrenaline dissipating, sitting on the floor, digesting what just happened. His right hand clutched the sword, and he put his left hand down, only to find the wand underneath it. His brain began buzzing, the gears were turning. He didn’t doubt himself; he knew he had cast the wand in a different spot, yet it stayed within his reach ready to be picked up again. He shivered because now he knew how the characters on the movie screen felt during their moments of danger and peril. Leave! He knew he could not stay still to regain his composure, and got up, retrieved the sheath he pulled the sword from and headed towards the entrance. He was surprised by the weight of the sword now that it was inert in its sheath. Jeremy grabbed a belt that looked more like a harness with a plate covering his left lung and heart nearby. The sheath perfectly attached to the harness, in the perfect angle on his left waist to be drawn quickly to unleash violence and death upon his foes. It was a most exquisite design. Resolved Jeremy marched forward away from the short stone tower, not wanting to leave room for the ominous wand to linger around his person.

“My class is 'Mystic of the Ancient Dragon'”, Amy replied to Glyn as she set her new tablet down after writing a letter to Jeremy via the magic app 'Contact'.

“Really”, Glyn said surprised, and curious, “At level one people can chose either warrior, mage, ranger, or worker as their class. Of course, the class changes as your skills progress along with your decisions. But, to have a full class title like that already, that is Amazing! Wait!! I have heard that name before, and not being able to choose your class?! Mah dear you are surrounded by mystery”.

Amy giggled as Glyn pulled her blanket in front of her face like a veil, and asked with a muffled voice, “Oh ancient mysterious one, did the receipt for that letter say where Jeremy is?”.

“It said location unknown”, Amy replied.

“Whaaaa!!!???”, Glyn exclaimed, “If it is on earth or Draegoch it would tell you where he is, but it says location unknown. Bizarre, I wonder if it’s a bug. Hold on a wee minute, let’s look on the support page for the company”.

Amy was never above average when it came to technology. She was always at the minimum of a millennial in skills and ease of use. Nevertheless, exploring a website was something unavoidable to learn in order to access the thousands of pages of fantasy literature online. However, with the tablet it was different, it was easier; the technology of the waga tablet not only relied on sight and sound like the vast digital infrastructure of her modern world, but the waga tablet, the waga tablet also used touch and feeling; the technology of the dragons added another dimension to interaction in the digital age.

Indeed, all senses could be utilized with the tablet. She recalled the grueling tests that Master Radim had given them all day, while she went to the company website that created the letter charm application.

From the hot desert to dry plains to a frozen tundra to underwater, she was subjected to many devious and borderline sadistic tests. But for her, for Amy, the tests were simple as breathing, it was very anti-climactic. She was puzzled while her guildmates were struggling in crisis after crisis, she barely lifted a finger and managed to astound everyone. Her face turned red from embarrassment as she thought of the class watching and following her through all the tests. She wanted to shout in a rebuttal to the admiration, ‘I didn’t do anything’, but she couldn’t due to the atmosphere.

Sitting on her bed in the female dorms, with Glyn as her dorm mate. They both arrived to the support page at the same time. Despite looking through all the related support forums. Not one single incidence similar to Amy’s experience revealed itself unto them.

“Huh, oh well let’s send an email and see what the company’s response is”, Glyn said dismissively, as if it was a trivial matter.

Being an insatiable devourer of anything in the genre fantasy, she noticed a plot emerging, Amy stopped, “No, whatever this is between my wand and what happened to me, it isn’t simple. There is obviously something happening”.

“Yes, and that is exactly why we should send a support email. That company is from Waga, the land of the black dragons that created the tablet. They are also very wise and would be able to find something. You know Ian was trained there by the Shinsai Clan, it’s why he uses their sword. He is one of the few outsiders to be allowed into the tower on personal business”, Glyn said proud of her own reasoning ability. Amy knew Glyn was far older than she was, yet she appeared and acted like a young human woman in her early twenties. She liked her personality very much.

Amy peeked over at Glyn’s tablet as she saw Glyn reading the posts plastered all over social media about Amy’s performance in the classroom.

“You are going to be a celebrity”, Glyn said excited and satisfied with her Amy-improvement-plan on track and chugging along.

Amy was using her tablet also, the Kaito app in particular: the largest social media app in all of Draegoch. Immediately upon downloading the app, she received friend requests from all her new classmates. So far she had accepted Glyn, Sean, Ian, Liam, William, and surprisingly Gwynyveve, although her profile was Veve Lleon. She simply adored elves and wanted an elf friend like any fantasy fan would; however, she did not know, how could she know the prestige and status of Veve, and her new peers and new friends.

First, she looked at Veve’s wall, there were many selfies and pictures of her in a white dress in the heights of the trees in the mysteriously lit forests; in each picture a soft blue light radiated. Then there were comments and tags from her female elven friends in similar settings. Must be a fad. There was also always a mention of blood. Interested Amy looked on the encyclopedia website that Sean had sent her a link to.

Elves:

A people that live in the top of the intertwining branches of Gweynfir forests throughout Arbell. With an average lifespan of 900 years. Elves mostly prefer the crunchy nutritious young leaves of the gweynfir trees, their salads with various fruits, nuts, and dressings are considered a delicacy by the more health conscious earthers. However, due to their physiology they consume half the amount of water compared to humans, but they must also consume a portion of fresh blood daily for their lack of iron to stay hydrated. It is usually given by the parents to the child until they get married or obtain a partner. As such blood is seen as a sacred substance to them, and elven offspring will typically stay with their parents in their own cities and towns. In the major cities the young and single elves that have not found a partner yet use the blood of EMU: Elven Mothers United, a monopoly holder on the supply of elven blood for the elven residents of the metropolis areas…

‘Interesting’, she thought to herself. She went back to Kaito, her curiosity now sated. And started watching several tutorial videos of people of Draegoch making human food, with millions of views.

‘Wha?!?!’, she thought to herself. There was an advertising with both Ian and Liam on it, it was an advertising for a broadcast of a dungeon raid, before the next recipe video was shown. ‘Tomorrow?!’. She squealed involuntarily now realizing that she was in the midst of celebrities, she was now realizing what kind of public position she was in. She thought of all the attention she would receive being around them and wanted to find the deepest darkest hole, beyond the scope of any living presence and live out her days. From being an obscurity in a large American city, she was rocketed to being in the same company as the top one percent of this society.

She turned to Glyn saying a few words, “Ian and Liam will be participating in a raid tomorrow? Isn’t that scary?”.

Glyn got out of her bed and came to Amy’s and gave her a big hug and gave a relaxed sigh as she nestled her chin on Amy’s shoulder, “It was more dangerous before we created the Waga tablet, but now it is at the level of a national sport, well…with slightly more peril, but don’t worry”.

Later that night Amy was thinking lying on the bed in her white polka-dotted pajamas. She was thinking about all the fantasy books she read and fantasy movies she watched; all the premises and clichés: guilds, schools of magic, levels, dungeons, and quests had suddenly become more realistic, more practical, more relatable. There were reasons and explanations for everything. This new reality wasn’t like the films she watched where magic and mystical creatures were diminishing or on the verge of dying out or disappearing for some vaguely explained reason; the culture was vibrant and modern. A world built on the sophisticated, developed technology obtained through magic, rather than circiuitry and electricity. The people fantastic in appearance, but familiar and similar in heart and mind. Throughout the day she could touch, taste, see, smell, and hear. The flavor of the chicken like bird flesh she consumed on a gweynfir salad for lunch with a sweet acidic sauce, bright berries, and earthy nuts. The fast-food knockoffs similar to what she was accustomed to on earth. The very same place she ordered food from for dinner. She began to understand a little of the world she now inhabited, the outside form met her expectations, but the insides were surprisingly less fantastic, but more practical.

Her thoughts shifted towards the next day she was excited and nervous to see the raid. She had been with her new dragon friends for three days, but they were honest and sincere, which led her to feel concern for their wellbeing despite only knowing them for a short time. Her eyes began to feel heavy. She was peering at her wand that she had held all day through out class.

‘I see you child’, a deep voice resonated in the depths of her being as the wand softly glowed.