Thursday evening, Ricardo had secluded himself in his room as soon as he arrived from school. He had his last exam of the year–sciences–next morning. And, most importantly, their last roleplaying session of the year–the campaign's finale–in the afternoon. So, of course, he was frantically going through his files–ordering all the relevant documents for the scenario–which were all over his laptop's desktop.
A fear crept through his body with the first vibration of his cellphone, deep into his school pants' pocket. His eyes unfocused for a second, forgetting the file he intended to check. Then the ringtone sounded, prompting him to take out the phone.
It was mom.
“Hello.” Ricardo smiled as he answered the call.
“Please help your sister pack her bag.” Mom's voice sounded tired. “I won't be able to leave anytime soon.”
“Okay.”
Ricardo wasn't too surprised–they had eaten reheated scrambled eggs and toast for dinner. He sighed, closing the lid of his laptop–he could finish later–and left for Mili's room.
His sister's door was ajar, her pink backpack opened on her bed. The drawer of her wardrobe laid on the floor, clothes all over every available piece of furniture. Mili stood still at the foot of her bed, her back to the door.
“Do you need some help?” Ricardo asked from the threshold in what he thought was a low voice, trying to not startle her.
His sister made a little yelp–jerking her arms–followed by the dull sound of an object dropping on cloth.
“Did mom call you?” Mili didn't turn around as she asked, her voice restrained.
“She'll be late,” said Ricardo, stepping inside the room. “I'll help you instead.”
“You don't need to.”
Ricardo still went forward, getting a glance of the inside of Mili's backpack before she could close it. A shrink-wrapped makeup set laid on top of several white bags.
“My roommates insisted. You know we aren't allowed phones or tablets.”
Mili had never used makeup before, as far as Ricardo knew. She was graduating Primary, maybe it was to be expected.
“Have you decided on the clothes?”
“Yes,” answered Mili, pointing to a pile next to the backpack–black jeans, sweatpants, a couple of T-shirts.
Mili restarted packing in silence. She didn't seem to want or need any help, though Ricardo had promised mom. Not wanting to stay idle, he went around the room, picking up and folding the random clothes. He set them in the drawer, and then put it back inside the wardrobe.
“Have you packed your toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, deodorant?” asked Ricardo, not having any more organizing to do.
“Yes,” answered Mili, closing the backpack without looking at him. “I really don't wanna go.”
“Sadly, that's not up to you. Or me.” said Ricardo. “Think of it like an overnight trip. You are going to the new retreat house. Our class was sent to an old, creaky convent in the middle of the old city.”
Mili smiled, looking at Ricardo for the first time in the day.
“You'll have fun. Like in our trip to the jungle,” continued Ricardo, his pitch raising now that he had caught her attention. “Do you remember the waterfall? And the dolphins?”
“The dolphins were cute.”
Mili had been fascinated by the pink dolphins going around the boat. Their family vacations to Pucallpa, a city in the middle of the Amazon rainforest, had been the highlight of their year.
Having gotten a smile out of her, Ricardo said his goodbyes, hoping that her Spiritual Retreat would be as good of an experience as his had been.
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Friday evening, after a light dinner of chicken breast and mashed potatoes, the students participating with Ricardo in the Spiritual Retreat divided by groups spontaneously. The biggest sat in a corner of the patio, a couple of male students with guitars in the middle, playing a popular–but definitely not commercial–song.
They had a couple of hours of free time before they were sent to their rooms. Not that it mattered to Ricardo's roommates. As soon as they were let go, they followed Sandro upstairs, their steps making the wood squeak under them. Ricardo, who was the last of the pack, looked around as he went by. Some girls had left for their rooms, though all the other boys were accounted. A neon green inflatable ball had materialized, which was being put to use by the soccer players.
Sandro directed the guys to sit in a circle over the tiled floor, in the free space between the bunk beds and the door. Ricardo took out his pile of paper, quickly fetching the five pre-filled character sheets that came with the manual.
“Here, everyone choose one,” said Ricardo, putting the sheets in the middle of the circle.
“Hey, I wanted to create my own character,” said Lucas, raising his voice over the music and chatter that came from downstairs. He was a fat, noisy guy, who always had a bag of candy in his pocket. Snacks weren't allowed in the retreat either; he might have been cranky.
“Filling a new sheet would take too much time,” said Sandro, glancing at Ricardo as he talked. “Lets play with the default ones first.”
“Alright, but I want a warlock,” said Lucas, “A dark elf warlock would be nice.”
There wasn't a dark elf–or even a warlock–in the pre-filled sheets. But there was a high elf wizard, which was enough to placate Lucas. The premade party also included two fighters, a rogue and cleric. The last one would be a point of contention–none of the guys wanted to play support–until Sandro took it for himself, giving away the rogue that he had picked from the beginning.
“Okay. You're all individual adventurers,” said Ricardo, as Sandro passed around the brand-new dice. “You would team up with other people from time to time, if a big job came around. This is one of those times. A noble has called you all to an inn in a medium-sized village. Introduce yourselves.”
The guys looked around for a second.
“I'm Hadral Runeback, a dwarf from the southern hills,” said Sandro, who was sat next to Ricardo. “I'm a cleric, though that doesn't mean I can't deal pain. I've disposed more evil creatures with my warhammer than with divine magic.”
After Sandro, the other players also introduced themselves, going in a circle. Ricardo should had told them to go from his right from the beginning. Regardless, the party was formed successfully, receiving their mission. They had to enter an abandoned mine and rescue the son of the local lord, who had been ambushed in a mountain trail.
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Friday afternoon, the last class day of the year, Ricardo slowly walked down the hallway. His sciences exam hadn't gone as well as he was used to. Yet that wasn't anywhere near the top of his worries. It was finally the day for the dragon challenge. The rest of the group was still in the classroom, as most of the class–he was the weird one who didn't like the cacophony of overlapping conversations.
A few minutes later, Sandro joined him–the rest of the group passing by, a nod being their only acknowledgment. They would meet with them in an hour, Ricardo going early to make the setup.
Ricardo and Sandro left the school campus together, arriving at Sandro's home after only a five minute walk. The perimeter was enclosed by a red brick wall, with a code pad on the door. The actual house was a modern construction of concrete, glass and steel, all in their natural colors. They didn't approach the main portal, but went through a side door that would get them directly to the basement.
The lights turned on automatically as they took the steel stairs, the ambient getting colder with their descent. They crossed another door, which opened to the long side of a rectangular room. The far sidewall contained the biggest TV screen Ricardo had seen life–covering almost half of the wall's width. On the opposite side there was a round table–where they usually played–and three stacks of wooden chairs.
“Lets get you set,” said Sandro, picking up two chairs, putting one to the back to the wall, Ricardo's usual position. “I'll bring the rest of the stuff. Do you want a drink?”
“No, it's okay.”
Ricardo took out his laptop, connecting it to the usual socket. He set the scenario files–he liked to have everything in tabs on a browser. Once done with that, he opened the file with his calculations.
The party was currently around level 10. For the boss he had originally planned–an ancient force dragon–they would need six players of around level 14, and to debuff him with the otherworldly magic. He had already modified it to be just an adult dragon, bringing the difficulty down.
Also, there would be an encounter with a couple of injured red dragon wyrmlings on the way. They would kill them for experience and loot, rescuing an elder sorcerer. He would end up being a magician from other reality realm–which would serve as the sixth member, casting the spell needed to defeat the dragon. He could even make him sacrifice himself in a blast of glory if things went south during the final combat.
Joining the party as a non-player character was the key of his plan.
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“We got the noble kid. We should just deliver the quest and take the gold!” Lucas exclaimed, his cheeks reddening.
“We have differing positions,” said Sandro, looking around, a smile on his face. “Lets vote on it.”
Their first roleplaying session–from the night before–had had their ups and downs. The lights-out time had arrived shortly after the players had finally gotten used their characters. Now they were in their second session, having already killed the kidnappers after only one hour of playtime. The noble scion had told them his guards confronted an hydra–heavily damaging it–on the way. That was why they were beaten by brigands. He knew the cavern where the hydra had fled to. If they went back to the town first, the monster would regenerate, making it impossible to defeat with their current levels.
“Who wants to kill an hydra?” Sandro looked at each member of the party in turn, daring them to say no.
Everyone but Lucas raised their hands, directing their glances to the sole holdover.
“Alright, lets do it,” said Lucas. “I hope the dwarf knows revival magic.”
Sandro turned to Ricardo, expectantly. He looked down to his bundle of pages, looking for the next passage in the scenario.
“The party leaves the cave and goes up the mountain trail, quickly finding signs of the battle. Several puddles of red-stained mud dot the dusty footpath, a cavern entrance opening to the right, half-hidden by thorny bushes.” Ricardo continued the narration, getting immersed in his own reading. At that point, they were no longer at the old convent in Lima, but in the middle of the mountains, looking to defeat a fearsome beast.
At the end, they would get to beat the hydra, in their second roleplaying session ever. Of course, it was already heavily damaged, but still an accomplishment at level 3. Ricardo had fudged the dice a couple of times, so the hydra wouldn't get to kill either Lucas–their source of fire damage–or Sandro–their only healer. It had been warranted, though. They wouldn't have finished the battle within the day otherwise.
And it had been cool.
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Ricardo and Sandro looked at each other from time to time, checking their cellphones in a once per minute basis. They had revised the party's character sheets several times already, nothing else to add to.
The last five sessions, going back to the return to classes after winter break, have had between three and four participants. The first time someone missed a day, they made up a sudden illness and left the character at the inn. But, as it became more frequent, Ricardo and Sandro started playing the characters, so they could still advance the campaign's main plot.
Two hours had passed by, and there were no signs of anyone else arriving.
“Maybe we should get started,” said Sandro, who had already finished his soft drink, spinning the ice on the glass. “Don't you want anything?”
“Iced water, please,” said Ricardo, taking his eyes off the cellphone's screen. “No, give me a soda too.”
Sandro left for the kitchen, leaving Ricardo alone in the big white room. He glanced briefly at his reflection on the shiny floor tiles. There had been times they had been late.
Something vibrated under a sheet on the table. It was Sandro's phone. Ricardo couldn't help turning it around.
A new message appeared on his notifications.
There's a timed event on Daybreak. Tell Ricardo we'll be late.
Another message appeared.
It was extended for another hour. Lets postpone the session.
And another.
You can still join us.
Ricardo quickly flipped the phone down, covering it with Sandro's character sheet. Another cancellation. Did it make sense to reprogram it? He only wanted to leave.
When Sandro came back with the refreshments, Ricardo had already packed his laptop. He told him they were postponing the session, and was glad that Sandro didn't ask for explanations. He gulped the soda–the bubbles leaving an acid aftertaste–and left for his house.
The roleplaying group was probably doomed. Maybe they would ask for the last session on their own, to give the campaign a closure. He wouldn't let his hopes up, though. And wouldn't try to convince them either.
He was done.
Ricardo spent what was left of that Friday alone on his room, reading webnovels. He even skipped dinner, not having mom or Mili there to remind him. Saturday, outside lunch and dinner with his parents, he spent the day in the same way. Mass on Sunday was an unavoidable family obligation, the rest of the day uneventful as most weekends were.
That was, until Mili's return from her Spiritual Retreat.
Sunday, after dinner, his parents had gone to pick her up at school, as they had done with Ricardo the year before. Not having anything else to do, he stayed in the living room–still reading–so he could greet his sister as she arrived. He wondered if she had fun. Now that they were in summer break, he could teach her roleplaying, as she had asked him before. It wasn't like he still had other obligations either way.
The car entered the driveway, Ricardo closing the browser of his cellphone and standing up. The twinkle of keys preceded the opening of the front door. Mom entered first, prompting Mili forward with her arm.
His sister, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt, entered the house with her head hanging down, running past Ricardo. He listened to the rushed steps on the stairs, and the slam of a door closing.
What had happened?
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Ricardo had yet to talk directly to Mili–no, she's Minerva now–about what happened on her Spiritual Retreat. For a time he hadn't been able to even approach her. Picturing the disappointment on her face was enough for him to die of embarrassment.
From what he pieced together, his sister had justified reasons for not wanting to go in the first place. And nobody, not her parents, or her teachers–or her brother–had ever taken her seriously. She had been laughed at by her whole class, the gossip quickly extending to the rest of the Primary campus. The only blessing was that electronic devises had been forbidden at the retreat–there weren't any pictures for posterity.
If only he had taken the time to get his facts right, but he was too busy with the stupid RPG campaign. He had filled his mouth with empty assurances, told with such confidence, thinking that he new everything. Who was him to give advice to anyone? He was just an awkward boy who had one lucky break.
If he could go back in time, he would have never said anything at all. Now it was too late.