Jay was confused when the Dissimu villagers stopped him in front of the small oasis area. He had run away from this area fifteen minutes or so previously. As it turned out, the reason crocodiles had attacked the spot was due to the secret village hidden in the pools.
The small collections of still water concealed the village, primarily through obfuscation. The water hid an entrance to the village, but only one pool led into the small connecting tunnel. The other pools were traps, so any trespassers would be destroyed or, at the very least, heavily injured.
Igno and Lyle led him through the proper tunnel, which made a U-bend shape and ended with a small rock face. The rock face led a short climb up to the entrance of the hidden village. Jay saw indications that the entrance area could be collapsed in the event of an invasion.
The village was much larger than Jay expected. It was entirely underground but was the same size as a city to fit ten thousand people in the real world. The sprawling underground cityscape went for miles. He would have been completely lost without the villagers.
“Where are we headed?” Jay inquired as the party took another turn around a small block of buildings.
“We are going to see the Elder,” Igno explained. “She can help fill you in on the histories. The best of us to answer all of your questions. You will find out soon, but her knowledge is vast and incomprehensible. The memories are in our blood.”
Jay didn’t understand the last sentiment. Blood didn’t seem to have a strong memory, as far as he knew. After all, blood’s memory could only be contextualized in the frame of the immune system. Thinking about science too much made Jay’s head spin, so he dismissed such thoughts.
Even stranger than the abnormal blood discussion was the settlement itself. The buildings were constructed of tropical jungle wood, which wasn’t strictly surprising. In Ilra, they used local trees for construction, too. The city was old but showed signs of wide-ranging repairs. Well taken care of, the structures had all indicators of being perfectly hospitable places to live.
The only glaring issue was that it was a ghost town. The trio passed very few people, considering the number of buildings. Jay estimated that there couldn’t be more than a thousand villagers living in the city. It did make the point that so few had constructed everything all the more impressive.
After the residential buildings, they passed the farms. The farms were multi-layered. Below the top layer of plants, connected by a small dirt staircase, was a different kind of plant. The crops were fertilized and fed energy by glowing magic crystals embedded in the ceiling of the shaped cavern. Igno informed Jay that the farms descended for a dozen tiers in some places. The agriculture impressed Jay more than anything else he experienced during the stroll.
He lost track of time as they walked since he could no longer see the moon or the stars. Though he trusted the friendly villagers, the space was fully foreign. Eventually, he found himself outside of an adjoining room. It was clear that this was where the Elder lived.
There was another interwoven statue of Gereg, like the one Jay had seen long ago in the Ilran forests. This statue looked different from the one before. It felt wrong. Something about the sculpture, which obviously wasn’t alive, felt lifeless nonetheless.
Igno and Lyle stopped outside of the room, holding up their hands to indicate that Jay should stop.
“Make sure you are polite,” Igno warned. “If you are, the Elder will treat you gracefully, even though our ways are foreign. I will not be able to join you. The Elder wishes to see you alone.”
“How do you know that?” Jay asked. “Are your people telepaths?”
He had long wondered how telepathy or related arts would work in a full dive game. The game system, conceivably, had access to the brain patterns of all full dive players. Telepathic players could interact with that information stream of brain data. Using that stream, the game could control sensory input to the player on the receiving end. The whole pipeline seemed fraught with danger.
“We are not telepaths,” Lyle laughed. He pointed to a small rune glowing above the archway to the adjoining room. “The runes tell us what the Elder expects. She will see you alone. She obviously wishes to tell you things we will not be privy to.”
“That doesn’t bother you at all?” Jay asked. “Shouldn’t the Elder be open with you about whatever is happening? I would feel weird if the leader of my village was keeping secrets.”
Naturally, his own government had plenty of secrets. The NPCs were programmed to be okay with it. Still, Jay felt strange that both seemed completely uninterested in the coming mysteries.
“There are many things we do not know,” Igno intimated. “If we tried to know all things we do not know, we would lose our lives to the twirling abyss. It’s better to concern ourselves with important things in our role, like protecting the village. Go on, Jay. You will not be harmed.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Jay wasn’t expecting any harm to come to himself, but something about the room felt eerier than the rest of the village. That was no laughing matter since the town itself already sang of the ghosts hidden beneath the surface. It was a ghost town.
He walked inside the cavern with a nod of acknowledgment to his new companions.
The room was vibrant, awash with just as much life as the jungle above. There was no glowing crystal in this room. The same trees as above were dotted throughout the cavern, including the biggest example he’d seen. Weaves of vines connected the trees, snaking their way around the cavern, trying to touch the highest point.
There were flowers around the room, which his Herbalism skill indicated to him would be highly useful. Although, there was a mixture of stoplight colors, demonstrating that some of the plants were very dangerous. At the other side of the room from Jay was a small pool of water. That one looked similar to the oasis pools above but seemed purer. The water was more transparent and hummed with muted energy.
The uneasy peculiarity of the room stemmed from the sense that it didn’t belong in this subterranean zone. The area was full of life but didn’t belong.
In the center of the room, completely at ease in the eerily beautiful surroundings, was an older woman. She appeared to Jay to be around seventy years old, although it was difficult to tell since her face was so relaxed. She wore long robes, which were patterned with various colors. He saw all the colors of the rainbow and more. It was challenging to look at, but he recognized that the colors in her robe matched the vibrant display of flowers throughout the room.
“Welcome, Monster Hunter,” the Elder said. She didn’t open her eyes. “I sense that you come in peace, so you are very welcome here. This is a place of rest. A place for warriors to purge themselves of the influence of battle. Such is the only way to prepare for the next conflict.”
Jay politely inclined his head, electing to sit on the ground a short distance from her. “What may I call you, Elder? My name is Jay, and I really appreciate your hospitality.”
“You may call me Pami,” she replied gently. Her eyes still never opened. “My true name is difficult to pronounce.”
“That was going to be my next question,” Jay admitted. “It seems a strange name for an alligator-per–uhm, Dissimu to have.”
“Indeed,” Pami granted. “It is a shortened form since my full name would doubtlessly cause you endless trouble. Monster Hunter is a strange title for one of your people, as well, is it not? The Monster Hunters are said to be lost and forgotten. And yet, here you sit in front of me.”
The old woman’s peace was infectious. Jay felt himself becoming more serene and visualizing his path more clearly. There was some magic, either in Pami or in the grove itself.
“I suppose the world provides what it needs or something like that,” he fumbled. “But it’s true. I’m a Monster Hunter. That’s actually why I’ve come to Mercura Island. There’s a dungeon hiding somewhere that I need to complete.”
“The trials of the Angerine,” Pami mused. “I recall them well. Did you know there was a time when your people were of great service to mine? It’s why the founder of the Angerine chose this place to harbor one of the dungeons of trials.”
Jay shook his head. “I didn’t. I honestly don’t know all that much about being a Monster Hunter. I know it was started by an Elf named Angela Kitt. It seemed like a weird name for an Elf, but I’m rolling with it. I know her family originated the Elvish Royalty and the Angerine. But that’s pretty much it.”
“You still know more than most,” Pami declared. “Most of Tumultua believes the Monster Hunters were simply a myth. They were created to beat back the tide of monsters before all the other classes came to be. The Angerine fought ceaselessly against the tide of monsters. However, the monsters never stopped coming. The Angerine started to lose. Eventually, every Monster Hunter was completely wiped out. Until you.”
The Elder knew more about the world than any NPC Jay had met. She knew even more than Taylor Lynn, who seemed to have a bead on the hidden lore of the game. The knowledge came from leaked game files, no doubt. Still, there was a question looming over his mind.
“Do you know why I became a Monster Hunter?”
“I do,” Pami confirmed. “But first, let me explain to you the role the Monster Hunters served with regard to my people. After all, we are not truly monsters, though many might see us as such. You need to understand.”
“Alright,” Jay said. “You haven’t given me any reason to distrust you. I’m here to listen and learn.”
The previously serene expression fell from Pami’s face. She opened her eyes, and Jay saw how sad they were. She became solemn. “Some time ago, the crocodiles and alligators of this village were in harmony. The Fear protected us from poachers, and our warriors were strong. Unfortunately, my people do not merely have the blessing of The Fear. We also have the curse of The Fury.”
Jay nodded his understanding thus far, indicating Pami should continue.
She smoothed the folds in her robe as she resumed. “The Fury is a part of the anger inside of us. Maintaining a Battle Form is expensive. Over time, it erodes the person inside each of us. What’s left behind is the monster. Still, it is how we protect ourselves and survive. Balance must be maintained, but the more we fight, the less our minds remain.”
Pami stood and picked a small arrangement of flowers from the various plants strewn throughout the grove. “Until recently, this was not so bad. My people have children slowly, so our population has never been explosive. Gereg understands our plight and has blessed us with the ability to return to life when battle claims us.”
Pami started to approach, her words bouncing around the cavern as she walked. “That ability has been cut off by the crocodiles. Their spell has shrouded Gereg’s eyes, leaving us to fend for ourselves. When they turned their backs on Gereg, it placed the Dissimu at odds with each other: alligator versus crocodile.”
“It’s a beautiful story, in a sort of tragic way,” Jay admitted. “The kind with some hope left, if the spell can be destroyed. I want to hear how it ends, but what does it have to do with Monster Hunters?”
“Because,” Pami said, extending the bouquet of flowers to him. “Monster Hunters were the ones to hunt us down when The Fury claimed our souls.”