Trials of Faith (Director's Cut)

Chapter 1: Prologue: YGGDRASIL

Chapter Text

Insanity. There was no other reason she would ever believe as to why she had come back. She had been halfway around the world when the email came in, her phone auto-translating the Japanese to her native English so she could understand what the email was telling her. Emails from this particular location always brought a smile to her lips. Event announcements, contest winners, patch notes... no matter what the contents were, it always made her smile. Well... except of course for today’s email. Of course, she had always known it was coming... nothing lives forever – she knew this fact perhaps better than anyone – and video games, sadly, were no exception. The email was a notification of service termination.

Video games came and went; were born, lived, and died sometimes even before anyone knew they existed. She had seen countless come and go in her time, and had mourned none of them. None of the millions of rank-and-file cash-grab games she had come across had ever managed to hold her attention for long. Well... that was, save for one. It wasn’t terribly popular in America – the game’s stats claiming that America was its lowest population, at only a paltry one hundred and eight players – but in its native country of Japan it thrived. Not just a video game, not just an online game... a true experience. The world’s first and oldest DMM-RPG – a fully functioning world which the users immersed themselves in wholly. Many who didn’t understand it called it crazy, a ‘freak stroke of technology that’s going to destroy us’, those who played it called it by its given name, YGGDRASIL. But to her? To her it was something far more than just ‘another game’. It was the only place she felt alive.

So that’s why she came back after four years overseas. That’s why the first thing she did after she got off the plane was rush home and hook up her Dive Cradle one last time... to give YGGDRASIL – the game that had given her twelve years of happiness – one final, last goodbye.

Upon connecting to YGGDRASIL for the closing ceremonies, she was greeted by a barrage of notifications. ‘Eighteen players have removed you from their friends list’. ‘Your Divine Intervention scroll has fizzled. Cooldown is now active’. ‘Due to a recent patch, several of your skills have changed. These skills include: Zone of Truth, Master’s Gaze, Meditation, Purification Rite, Turn Evil: Undead, Turn Evil: Demon, Turn Evil: Dragon, Turn Evil: Blackheart. Please review these skills to acquaint yourself with their changes’. And of course the one she knew was coming. ‘You have been kicked out of [Crimson Crusaders] for prolonged inactivity’. Yeah... she expected that one. She had told her Guild she would only be gone for a few months. They didn’t know what she did, as far as they knew because she never thought it was important. All they knew is sometimes she had to leave for a month or two. Well... one thing led to another this time, and a four month trip had stretched on for four grueling years.

Another notification popped up after she had closed the others. ‘You have four unread mail messages.’ With a flick of her wrist and a twist of her finger, she used one of her only few cash shop items – a Portable Mailbox – to bring up a floating blue box in front of her face. Reaching into the box, she pulled out four letters. Three of them were enclosed in the gold envelope that all system messages were delivered in. Correspondence from the developers. She shuffled those to the back and found a white envelope within. This one was labeled with simple cursive script on the front, reading ‘To: Amara Akusa’. On the back of the envelope was the sender’s name... oh... the sender’s name was just ‘User Deleted’. Looks like whomever sent her this message took matters into their own hands. She opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.

‘Hey, Amara.’ The letter began simply. ‘I don’t know why you’ve been gone for so long... but I suppose it doesn’t matter. I highly doubt you’ll even get this letter... you’re probably living the highlife in some penthouse in your home country... too busy for your old friends. Sorry, that sounded harsh, I didn’t mean to say I didn’t enjoy your company. You’re one of the coolest Americans I’ve ever met... and that means a lot. So... even if you only have it for a few minutes, or even a few seconds... I wanted to leave you a gift. I’ve enclosed a parting gift for you, Amara. I hope you like it. I always liked you the most.’ It was signed simply by Silessa Tomoe. Silessa... yeah, she remembered SIlessa. One of the few Grotesque players who didn’t give a flying f*ck about the biggotry and elitism that ran rampant throughout YGGDRASIL. Silessa played a Lamia character – a half-snake, half-human woman – and was the nicest person Amara had ever met. If she was being honest, Amara had kind of a crush on Silessa but... hell, that’ll never amount to anything now.

Slipping her hand into the envelope, she retrieved the present that she attached. Slipping out of the envelope was a long, crimson silk ribbon. Holding it in her hands, she watched a small dialogue box pop up over the ribbon. ‘[Ribbon of the Eminent Savior]’ the dialogue box informed her of the ribbon’s name, the glittering golden text telling her it was a World Item. Her old friend, her old flame, had sent her a most precious gift. Amara smiled and clutched the ribbon to her chest, closing her eyes. “...thank you, SIlessa... I’m sorry I couldn’t be back to spend the last few hours with you...” Opening her eyes and looking back at the ribbon, she discarded the envelope and slipped the letters into her item box with a motion from her hand. With her hands free, Amara slid the ribbon around the back of her neck and used it to tie her long raven hair up into a tight, high ponytail. The Ribbon was long – several meters long – and she had enough to not only put a big bow at the top of her head, but also had the tails trailing down her back. She smiled as she stroked the tail of the ribbon. She’d wear this ribbon until ‘Amara Akusa’ was nothing more than a dusty name on a dead wind... until the very moment YGGDRASIL breathed its last.

Another notification box appeared, her system translating the Japanese as it always did. ‘[SHUT DOWN IMMENENT!]’ the box began. ‘Unowned Dungeon and Raid instances have been opened to the public. All Worlds are open to all players. PvP has been disabled for the last few hours. YGGDRASIL will shut down at exactly midnight JST (GMT +9). Thank you for the best twelve years of our lives. Thank you for making YGGDRASIL the success it was. May it forever live in your heart.’ Amara read the notice and felt a tug at the corner of her eyes. Dammit... after everything she’s been through for the past four years, this is what makes her cry for the first time in a decade? A sappy farewell message from a game that might as well not even know or care if she exists? Get your sh*t together, Amara... Taking a deep breath, Amara put on her biggest smile. She could go anywhere within the game. Do anything she wanted. She could go to one of the pubs in one of the towns and get sh*t-faced drunk (her character, at least. It wouldn’t affect her, the player, at all) or...

No. She shook her head. She had abandoned all her friends, her guildmates. Work had called, and it was a call she could neither resist nor explain to others. She didn’t deserve to spend YGGDRASIL’s last few hours with others... nor did she want to. There was only one thing she wanted to do now. Reaching back into her item box, she rummaged around for a moment before she found a small carved stone. It was a flat stone with a polished white surface, a strange marking engraved on it. ‘家’. Home. Clutching the stone to her chest, she closed her eyes and focused on her home. In a flash, the hustle and bustle of the town she had been in prior – no doubt teleported there by the game after she got kicked from her guild. She had logged out in their base – she felt a biting wind playing at the fringes of her robes. Opening her eyes, she came face-to-face with the seven-thousand steps of Shiijuuku Shrine.

Each of YGGDRASIL’s nine worlds were based off Norse mythology, it was true... but there were other sprinklings of inspirations there, too. Being a Japanese game, it only made sense that some inspirations were drawn from their home country... one of those was Shiijuuku Shrine in Jotunheim. Near the north end of the map, at the crest of a mountain road that ran the whole circumference of Jotunheim, was Shiijuuku Mountain, a snow-capped dormant volcano which had a small shinto-themed shrine built on top of it. It was nothing more than a small courtyard with a small shrine building, a donation box, and a small house that was meant to be the shrine maiden’s home. While many guilds in YGGDRASIL fought over the many dungeons for guild bases, Amara was happiest here. There were no monsters up this way, no dungeons anywhere near her. There were no quests, no NPCs, no venders, no nothing up on Shiijuuku Mountain. No one had any reason to visit her home-away-from-home in the frozen north... and that was just okay with her. In fact, in the months leading up to her unintended departure from the game, she had petitioned to make Shiijuuku Shrine her actual home, in the same way that dungeons could be claimed.

‘Now Entering: Oracle Amara’s House’. The notification that cropped up had reminded her that she had petitioned to make the shrine her home, and the devs had actually allowed it. ‘At least someone’s using it’ was their justification. Hell, she would have been happy if they had only allowed her to make it her home ‘for giggles’. Amara walked up to the donation box and loomed over it. YGGDRASIL allowed her players to be anything they wanted... a kind of freedom that not even the real world had. A great many players chose to be human-like races – Humans, elves, dwarves... that sort of thing – and that was okay. She didn’t judge people by their choices. Others wanted to be something decidedly inhuman... like Silessa. Those players were officially called ‘Heteromorphic’ by the game, but most players just called them by their colloquial name: Grotesques. Most Heteromorphic players went all-in with their characters. Demons, Lichs, Half-Dragons, Half-Dragon Demon Lichs... you name it, someone’s probably created it. And then... there was Amara. Amara was between Humans and Heteromorphic, a category called Demi-Humans. Goblins, Nekomata and Kitsune were the order of the land for Demi-Humans, but it had many other sub-categories as well. Most Demi-Humans tried to stay out of the pissing contest taking place between Human and Heteromorphic players, and Amara was no different.

She clasped her hands together and took to her knees by the donation box. She didn’t know any official prayer, but she had always been a pristine bullsh*tter; able to make anything up on the fly. “I know I’ve never been a good friend to these people. Always been an outsider, a mystery... but please... if anyone’s listening... let’s let everyone enjoy this last day together. Let there be no more hate, no more biggotry, no more elitism... let’s all just be people, trying to enjoy what we all love.” She paused. “...and God? If you’re really up there, and you really do hear me... please... tell me how I move on from this. I know I sound... so childish, begging for guidance after losing a video game... but this game has meant everything to me, even if I’m sh*t at showing it. So please... tell me how I to go on after this? What lies in store for me after YGGDRASIL?”

She was a walking stereotype. She had heard every insult, jab, and underhanded compliment in the book. She was an otaku’s wet dream and yes... at the time Amara was created, her player was younger. A kitsune shrine maiden... even she had to scoff at herself for her immaturity. The katana on her hip clicked against the ground gently as she bowed her head in supplication to whatever God would listen to her. It was selfish... it was cruel of her... but when she thought about all the happy memories she had in YGGDRASIL... and what awaited her back in the real world? “...I don’t want to leave... I don’t want to go back to my old life... God... why can’t I just stay here? Forever...”

And so she prayed. She never considered herself a woman of God... ironic that she built her character around the worship of a God... but in this instant, she thought it would be better for her to be perhaps a bit foolish than not even take the chance. It had taken her an hour to climb the seven-thousand step up to Shiijuuku Shrine, and by her clock, midnight was just a bit under two hours away in Japan. In those short two hours, Oracle Amara Akusa – an unassuming woman who would trade it all for a chance for her adventure to never end – prayed harder than any woman of faith ever had in the history of forever. Every diety she knew of – Jawhey, Allah, Ra, even the Flying-f*cking-Spaghetti Monster! - she beseeched them to give her more time... to mourn the loss of her oldest friend. And deep within the cosmic infinite of a million plus realities... one listened.

She would leave YGGDRASIL the same way she traversed it. She was simple by YGGDRASIL standards, a red shrine maiden outfit (which was a gift for one of the solstice festivals) that she had poured countless Data Crystals into to make into useable ‘armor’, a simple steel katana tucked into her obi at her hip and wooden geta and tabi socks on her feet. Anyone passing by would be forgiven thinking her just another NPC going through their daily routine, blissfully unawares of the end of the world. As she prayed, more notifications popped up on her vision. ‘[SHUTDOWN IMMINENT!] Servers will be shutting down for good in fifteen minutes!’ The first one warned her. Usually when the servers went down for maintenance, they’d urge their players to log off before the servers went down to prevent possible character data corruption... but ‘corruption’ was the least of their concerns now. In fifteen minutes, Amara Akusa – the Kitsune Oracle she had spent the better part of twelve years falling in love with – would be gone. Dead. Digital dust on a silicon wind.

‘[SHUTDOWN IMMENENT!] Servers will be shutting down for good in ten minutes!’ She really should have turned the system notifications off. Really should have just... gone quietly into the night.

‘[SHUTDOWN IMMENENT!] Servers will be shutting down for good in five minutes! It’s been a hell of trip, YGGDRASIL! We wish you the best. -Dev Team’. She drew in a deep breath. Five minutes. Five minutes and she’d wake up in her sh*tty apartment and go on with her sh*tty life. She watched the clock tick away. 11:58. She wondered if this is how people feel waiting for a firing squad? Or waiting for the executioner’s axe to fall? Will she feel the servers turn off? Will she finally know what it feels like to actually die? 11:59. Not much longer now. She redoubled her efforts to pray, hoping that this would never end. Midnight. As though her mind had been shut off, the moment the clock struck midnight, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

It was the warmth of the sun that drew her out of her torpor first. The sensation of the warm early morning breeze on her face, playing at her hair and clothing. Her eyelids flickered... had she left the damned window open again? Or had that whole ‘server shutdown’ thing just been her mind playing the mother of all dirty pranks on her? She finally managed to crack an eye open and gaze up into the beautiful cerulean sky. Funny... she hasn’t seen the sky this blue since history class... She reached up to take the beautiful scenery which greeted her, a lithe pale arm reaching for clouds as her robe’s sleeve slid back down.

Robe...? She retracted her hand and looked at it. There wasn’t a single blemish on the lithe arm, perfectly manicured nails filed to prim and proper points. There were no burn marks, no imperfections. She lifted her other arm and examined it. Like the first, it was pristinely clear, devoid of anything save for a strange, ethereal beauty. She turned her wrists out to look at the back of her hands. Not a single stray hair or cut... not even that stupid scar that’s been on the back of her left hand for the last ten years...

...had they pushed the shutdown back? She knew there was a petition circulating to keep YGGDRASIL online for another year but... last she checked they didn’t have nearly enough players sign it to have the devs even give it a thought. Did she get her math wrong? Was her timeframe wrong? Her date? Had she somehow managed to log on days before the- No, that can’t be. There were all those system notifications telling her that indeed, the servers were shutting down. Did they push it back? She motioned with one hand to bring up her system menu to check the notification board. Maybe she had fallen asleep and they had announced they were pushing the shutdown back, or – God, she could only hope – they had decided to cancel the shutdown all together? She waited for the notification system to appear on her HUD, but nothing came... just the warm breeze washing across her face. She grumbled. “...fat-fingering the motion...” She mumbled to herself, running through the motion again, convinced she had messed it up in her groggy state. The system was rather finicky when it came to making sure the motion was exact or it wouldn’t work. Again, nothing came. Come to think of it... none of her other HUD elements are working, either. She must have turned her HUD off in her sleep... it wouldn’t be the first time she’s done it. She once won a thousand gold by participating in a raid with no HUD on.

“C’mon... what is wrong with this damn thing...” She tried again, mimicking the motion to open the system menu. Again, like the previous attempt, nothing. Her arm flopped onto the stonework at her side, Amara sighing heavily. She was so tired and so hungry she could barely manage the system motion. As this thought entered her head, her stomach roared in protest. Great, she had thought about it, and now her stomach was acutely aware that she hasn’t eaten since she got on the plane back in Istanbul, and Middle Eastern cuisine did not sit well with her. She tried again, this time to log off for food. She’d probably have to go out for something, she had no food left in her apartment...

Again, the menu refused to open. This sent a growl of displeasure rumbling through Amara’s throat. “Come on! f*ckin’... log off!” She tried a few more times to log off, all with equal results. As she was about to release a shriek of frustration...

“Oracle...?” A voice came to her ears, Amara barely shifting to acknowledge the voice. “Oracle.... really? Did you forget to eat again?” Amara gave a weak shrug.

“Maybe...” She admitted. Of course, she had no idea why she was talking to this rando... the last thing she wanted to do was get wrapped up and involved in an RP session before the servers actually shut down. She heard footsteps come close and a figure drop to her knees at Amara’s side. She was a beautiful auburn-haired kitsune girl, her perky fox ears twitching in the stiff wind and her fluffy tail sweeping gently behind her. She had a youthful, round face and bright cerulean eyes that sparkled. Ugh, great... she was so delirious with hunger she was fantasizing over a digital construct... The girl looked at Amara with a strange, familiar kindness. She dipped down a bit and scooped Amara up in her strangely strong arms.

“I had feared as much... you missed breakfast. Here... let’s take you to get you something to eat...” Amara unconsciously put her arms around the girl’s neck as she carried her away. As the pair wandered off, Amara was able to take a peek at her surroundings finally. The snow-capped mountain and white-clad trees of Shiijuuku Shrine had vanished, replaced by the warm verdanture of springtime trees and the sound of birds chirping happily above her. The woman who carried her was dressed with a distinct eastern flare, a plain white kimono and a pair of wooden sandals with nothing else in the ways of accessories.

There were a few things Amara found decidedly odd about this whole thing. First and foremost, being at the northern end of Jotunheim, Shijuuku Shrine was constantly blanketed in snow... and barring holiday events, environmental weather didn’t change, especially not in Jotunheim. The second was she knew as a fact she hadn’t f*cked up the motion to enter the menu that much... It was a motion so engrained in her psyche that she had caught herself doing it in real life for no particular reason (that was fun to explain to her men) so she knows as a fact she did it right at least once. And third? Well... YGGDRASIL had no system for physically holding, restraining, or carrying another person... at least in a non-combat sense. Stuns and holds were common, but they didn’t take this form. She didn’t feel threatened at all by the girl who carried her... in fact, if that gentle smile on her lips was any indication, the two were acquainted with each other.

“I’ve told you this before, Oracle... everyone in the village is thankful for your dedication... but you must remember to eat. Linder would be beside Himself with anger if He discovered His chosen Oracle was starving herself.” The girl began to descend a mountain path, leading away from the shrine. Amara looked at the path she took, the stairs set into the hillside (decidedly fewer than the seven thousand she remembered) led down between two torii arches and into a village. This was another red flag. Shiijuuku Shrine didn’t end at a village, but an empty road. Nothing was making sense, and it didn’t seem like anything was getting explained any time soon. For now, Amara had decided to take things easy.

“I apologize... I had been so distracted, the thought of food must have slipped my mind...” She decided to play this off as she had always played Amara in-character. Formal and soft-spoken. The girl laughed at this.

“Oh, Amara... so dedicated...” So this girl knew her name? Strange, but that also lined up with her thought of being acquainted with her. It just frustrated her that Amara didn’t know her name when she clearly should. The girl smiled brightly. “Oh, good morning, Elder!” She called out to another Kitsune who emerged from a house.

“Good morning, Hikari!” Convenient, but she’ll take it. “Ah, has the dear Oracle neglected her morning meal again?” Hikari laughed at the Elder’s comment.

“Yes, indeed she has. Might we trouble you to-”

“No, it’s no trouble at all! Please, come in!” The man held the door open for Hikari, who dipped her head into a little bow.

“Thank you very much, Elder. You’re too kind.” Hikari set Amara down on one of the cushions by the low-cut table. Amara had seen a set up like this dozens of times in anime and manga. Everything else was eastern themed, so why not this? She had managed to sit seiza-style like she had done it a thousand times, Hikari taking the cushion right next to her. The Elder – an older-looking Kitsune man with graying hair – walked up to his small little kitchenette and took a bowl from a cabinet.

“It’s the least I could do, Hikari dear... You can’t be the only one responsible for making sure our good Oracle doesn’t starve herself in her dedication.” He opened up a small pot on the stove – the heat kept low – and began to scoop out a collection of pristine white rice from within, piling it on the bowl. Picking up something else from the counter, he brought the bowl over to Amara. “Here you are, dear. This should hold you over until I can make you something more filling.” Despite the otherwise plain nature of the rice... it smelt good. Like, really good. Amara took the bowl and smiled to the Elder.

“Thank you, Elder... you are too kind to a fool...”

“Oh, nonsense. You’re no fool, dear.” Amara took the second item he presented her with – a pair of chopsticks – and took to it like a fish to water. As she ate – the light, buttery flavor of the rice spreading through her – her mind began to think about everything she had experienced up until now, and she had come to an unlikely conclusion. Unlikely... but it had a non-zero chance of being true. She was no longer in Shiijuuku Shrine, but something that looked like it, and had a village attached. She was surrounded by other Kitsune demi-humans who all looked up to her as some Oracle. No one had any kind of name tag over their heads (you never realize how much name tags make your life easier until you no longer have them) and the oddly largest evidence... the fact that food had taste.

Oh, sure, YGGDRASIL had food and drink items. You could use them to feed and water your character, but they were just items... you used them like anything else and the only thing to tell you you had used them, is the displayed buff. ‘Hunger’ wasn’t a concept in YGGDRASIL, at least in this case. Yeah, going too long without food or drink would give you a debuff that could be removed by food and water respectfully... but you didn’t feel the hunger. It was one way YGGDRASIL separated real life from the game. YGGDRASIL food had no taste, no scent... hell not even an in-game model. So either she had been transplanted into a far more advanced version of YGGDRASIL that had wholly different motions for the HUD... or she was no longer relaxing in a Dive Cradle in a sh*tty New York apartment.

“So...” The Elder spoke as the sound of sizzling fish spread to Amara’s ears. “What was the cause of you bringing yourself to near starvation, Oracle?” Well, she couldn’t just say ‘personal stupidity’ no matter how true it was. Pausing to both think and swallow what she had in her mouth, she continued to make sh*t up. Her go-to response for anyone asking her why she was up on Shiijuuku was always ‘disturbing dreams’... so she thought it would work here.

“I have been having some... disconcerting dreams of late. I can make neither head nor tails of them and they have been ravaging my sleep. I thought I would spend some time praying to see if-” sh*t, what was the name the Elder used? It sounded important. She covered up her frenetic attempt to remember the name by eating more. LINDER! That’s what it was! Swallowing, she sighed a little. “...my apologies...” The Elder and Hikari both just laughed a little at her hunger. “...I thought I would spend some time praying to see if Linder could offer me any guidance...”

“And has He?”

“Yes.” Amara nodded. “Eat before prayer.” This caused Hikari to laugh loudly.

“Oh, you always were a funny girl, Amara...”

“...but no. Of my predicament, Linder has been rather frustratingly quiet... I feel this is either some test... or I am mearly overthinking things.”

“Mmm...” The Elder mused, flipping the fish over. “You know as well as I – perhaps better – that the dreams of an Oracle are never to be downplayed. I won’t pretend to know anything of your dream, nor of the symbolism of dreams... but I can assure you, you are most like as not not overthinking anything.” Amara finished her rice as he spoke, the light buttery grains sitting well in her stomach, and doing Linder’s work in ceasing her stomach’s prattle. She nodded to his statement

“I believe you to be correct, and that outcome frightens me the most.”

“What did you see in your dream?” Hikari asked, her tone switching to a more concerned one. Of course, this was all bullsh*t, but she had come this far. That’s the problem with lies... they tend to compound.

“I remember little... only that it frightened me. I remember fire... smelling smoke and hearing screams... more I cannot say.” Hikari’s frown deepened.

“...why can’t your dream ever be sunshine and flowers?” The Elder chuckled at this as he drizzled some dressing on the fish that he pulled from the pan.

“Ah, my dear Hikari. If we lived in a different world, perhaps you may see that... alas, we do not. The Butai have spun terrifying tales of Re-Estize and Baharuth increasing their usual annual tensions... I believe this year’s... ah... what was that cute term Butai Akemi used?” He walked over to Amara with the plate of fish and set it down. “Here you are dear. Eat up.” Amara smiled to him and pressed her palms together politely, bowing.

“You are too kind, Elder. Thank you for the food.” She picked up her chopsticks and went right to it.

“Shaft measuring competition?” Hikari chimed in, causing Amara to strangle a scoff threatening to slip out. The Elder grunted and sat across from Amara.

“Yes... Re-Estize and Baharuth’s annual shaft measuring competition is forecasted to be particularly bloody this year.” Amara fought the urge to ask who or what ‘Re-Estize’ or ‘Baharuth’ were, for fear of sounding ignorant. Judging by how they were talking however, Amara was fairly certain these were some kind of local factions.

“Hopefully it’s not right on our doorstep this time...” Hikari spoke. “If humans are this aggressive against each other, I shudder to think what would happen should our presence be known by the wider world...” So most humans don’t know the Kitsune exist? That’s helpful. These ‘Butai’ must be some kind of scout or exploratory force, then... keeping eyes on the world and making sure the Kitsune are appraised of world events. Handy.

The conversation tapered down to more mundane things. The next rice harvest’s outlook, how the fishing has been of late (Amara had learned they were close to a large lake they used for fishing) and the recent drop in temperature and humidity. Amara enjoyed her meal – her stomach sighing happily now that she had been fed – and she stayed in the conversation, passively absorbing as much information as she could. Though, as she sat there – listening to the village Elder and Hikari have a conversation without her – she kept going back to that name... Linder. It sounded eerily familiar, and for the damned life of her, Amara couldn’t figure out why. After a small handful of hours, Amara stood.

“I hate to be a terrible guest, Elder... but I simply must get something that resembles sleep...”

“Oh! Yes, I’m terribly sorry, Amara! Here we are talking your ear off about everything and nothing... please, don’t let us keep you!” He stood and bowed to her, Amara mimicking the action.

“Can I walk you back, Amara? We haven’t had a chance to talk much of late.” Considering Amara didn’t know where her home was, she welcomed the free guide.

“You are always welcome to join me, Hikari, you know this. I cherish your company.” Hikari smiled, a light blush playing at her cheeks.

“And I cherish you, Oracle.”

“We all do.” The Elder interjected. Amara had a feeling his idea of ‘cherish’ and Hikari's were not entirely the same.

“And I will continue to do all in my power to see that faith and love is not betrayed.” She bowed once more. “Thank you, Elder.”

“And thank you, Oracle, for all you do.” Hikari led Amara to the door and opened it for her, holding it as she stepped out. Once Amara was on the other side of the door, Hikari took the lead and started back towards the steps they had descended prior.

“I am fortunate you found me when you did, Hikari... I appreciate your concern.”

“Oh, nonsense, Amara! We’ve been friends for our whole lives... I’ll always be there for you.” So they were old friends, then? Judging by her demeanor, it was possible this was the fabled – and all-too over-used – childhood friend trope at play. Not that Amara particularly complained... tropey or not, she was just glad to have a friend. Hikari cozied up to Amara and interlocked her arm with Amara’s, pulling her close. Amara couldn’t tell if this was just how Kitsune showed platonic affection to others, or if this was a romantic gesture, so she decided to say nothing on it and just soak up her warmth. Hikari seemed content regardless to lead on; a broad, joyful smile plastered on her lips as they climbed the steps beneath the torii arches.

Amara was gifted her first actual, non-hunger blinded view of the shrine grounds. It was a gorgeous, well-kept shrine building with bright crimson walls and meticulously cleaned golden-yellow clay roof. A small donation box was placed at the door, but it was decidedly different from the donation box she was used to. Instead of coins and money placed within, there were an array of items within the box – paper, ink quills, cloth both rough and fine, dried tea leaves, bricks of salt, preserved food and water bottled in glass phials – ready for the collection. Hikari noticed Amara’s gaze on the box and smiled. “The people love you a great deal, Amara... they make sure you are well cared for.”

“And I am eternally grateful for their love and belief in me... I only hope I can live up to their expectations.” Hikari sighed and snuggled a bit closer to Amara.

“You worry too much. You’ve never once done us a disservice in all your years as Oracle.” She smiled. “Granted, it’s only been five years... but a lot can happen in five years.” If people were just going to keep throwing free information at her constantly, she was not going to complain. So... Amara’s been this village’s Oracle for half a decade, and apparently, she’s pretty good at it. Amara just nodded gently.

“Full glad I am they believe that.” Hikari walked her to a small building – small, but no less glorious or beautiful – and smiled.

“And here we are. Home sweet home.” She smiled and released Amara’s arm, folding her hands at her waist. “I pray Linder grants you a peaceful rest, Amara... if there is anything else I can do for you... anything at all... you only need ask.” Amara smiled and bowed to her.

“You are too kind, Hikari dear. If I have need of anything, I shall come straight to you.” Hikari smiled brightly and gave Amara a kiss on the cheek. Amara smiled at this, feeling the warmth of her fleeting kiss spread throughout her cheek and face.

“Sleep well, Oracle.”

“And you, dear... have a wonderful day.” The two parted, leaving Amara alone by her home. After watching Hikari leave – the auburn-haired woman turning one last time before beginning her descent down the stairs to wave a parting good-bye to Amara – before turning to her home and entering. There was no two ways about it... Hikari was down bad for Amara, even a blind idiot could see. Entering her home, Amara was greeted by a sparse, but cozy interior. On the wall closest to her on the left was a small kitchenette; a wood-burning stove and a cutting board, along with a large ice box near the wall. In the middle of the room was a small, square chabudai table with four cushions around it to serve as seating. Past that at the far end on the back right hand wall was a down futon mattress with a silk sheet covering it. Situated between the bed and the table was a small shrine with a small jade torii statuette atop it, several candles and an incense burner situated around it. Simple... but it had a certain charm to it.

Amara moved to the small table and dropped to her knees to sit herself upon it. Sighing heavily, she correlated her thoughts. As she pieced everything together, she found herself making another YGGDRASIL hand motion, a small swirling vortex of some purple energy appearing just in front of her. “Oh!” She chirped a little as it materialized. It was the same animation that played in YGGDRASIL to let people know when a player was mucking around in their Item Box. She stared at the portal for a full minute – half expecting something bad to happen – before reaching up to the portal. She paused for a moment before she stuck a hand out and poked the portal with her finger. It warbled and rippled like a stone cast into thick oil at her touch, but it was neither painful nor pleasant for her to touch. Content it wouldn’t hurt her, she plunged her whole hand up to her wrist into it.

Thousands of images flashed through her mind. Items she both recognized and didn’t, potions, weapons she forgot to sell to a vender, her three mails from the dev team, bags – holy sh*t that was a lot of bags... like holy f*ck did she have a f*ck load of bags in here! - and last of all, a book. As these images flashed in her mind, she recognized them all... this was the contents of her Item Box! Had it come here with her? Wherever ‘here’ was. She shuffled through and pulled one of the many bags out. Opening it up, she found a collection of healing potions... holy sh*t there was like a hundred in here! How could so many fit in this bag?! As she jiggled the bag around – finding more and more and more and Jesus f*cking Christ yet more potions! - it hit her as to why this bag could carry so many... it was an Infinite Haversack. They were fairly high-use cash shop items in YGGDRASIL, letting players store up to five hundred kilograms – about eleven hundred pounds – of a single item within it. Christ, potions only weighed like... a third of a pound... there must be millions of the damn things in here! Scrunching up her nose and sealing the Haversack back up, she stuffed it back into the Item Box. It was going to be a chore and a half taking stock of everything she had in these what must be thirty Haversacks.

She could already feel the headache that would cause coming on as she shuffled that to the back of her mind and – putting the Infinite Haversack back into her Item Box – absentmindedly picked the lone book at the very back of it. Pulling it out she recognized what it was... the Tome of Infinite Knowledge. It was a cash shop item loved by roleplayers all over YGGDRASIL. When bought, the Tome was a blank book that contained as many pages as you needed. You could write anything in the book and then create near infinite copies for distribution. A lot of roleplayers used these books to write up dossiers or stories for their characters so their partners could get a read on who they were dealing with... Amara even knew a few people who would fill this book with smut stories and sell them to other players for in-game currency or trade them for cash shop items. The devs never could crack down on that trade... removing the book would send fire and vitriol through the community, and it did no good to cap their length... so they just grinned and beared the smut trade they had unwillingly helped perpetrate.

Amara looked at the cover of the book, the fine leather binding it branded with the book’s title: ‘The Linderfolk Primer’. At the bottom was her own name where the author’s name went. Oh... Oh that’s why the name of their god sounded so damn familiar! She remembered having a whole f*ckin’ story associated with Amara; that she was a Linderfolk Oracle who had left her village to find help against some coming darkness. Smiling to herself – memories of her heyday in YGGDRASIL playing in her mind – Amara cracked the book open and began to read.

The book was broken up into a few chapters; the first – and longest section – was titled ‘The Linderfolk’ which seemed to be an information-dump on the Linderfolk themselves. The second was titled ‘Oracle Amara Akusa’ which appeared to be a character bio on Amara. The third was titled ‘The Raven Death’, which seemed to be Amara’s character backstory. The forth was titled ‘Prayers’, which seemed to be a collection of (admittedly badly written) prayers to Linder. The fifth and final section was titled ‘A Day in the Life of an Oracle’, which appeared to be an hour-by-hour breakdown of Amara’s daily schedule before she left the village. Amara smiled and shook her head playfully, musing to herself to remember to thank her younger self if she ever got the chance. Flipping to the first chapter, Amara began to study.

‘Often called ‘Kitsune’ by other races, the Linderfolk are a people of smaller stature, but big hearts and spirits. Infrequently growing much over five feet in height, the Linderfolk make up for their diminutive stature with enhanced speed and agility, making them formidable fighters and deadly to light-to-medium armored opponents.’ The book began. ‘However, despite this, the Linderfolk actively attempt to avoid combat whenever possible, preferring the art of debate and negotiation to diffuse situations. They typically only rely on violence when all other options have been exhausted and escape is deemed impossible.’ She turned the page.

‘The nature of Linderfolk magic stems from their belief. Whereas most other magic employed by other races is steeped in study and learning, Linderfolk magic is made stronger by one’s faith and trust in their deity, Linder. For this reason, Oracles are the strongest with spells than others, and they often interweave magic with swordplay to form a deadly dance of skill.’ Okay, that’s kind of neat, she couldn’t lie. ‘The Linderfolk are also a physical people. They forge bonds – both romantic and platonic – exceptionally quickly, and these bonds are near unbreakable... however, their hearts are fragile. The death of a loved one has a chance to drive a Linderfolk to death by the simple virtue of a broken heart, or to take their own lives... or in the worst of the worst possible situations, lose their luster for life and become Dead Eyes.’ Amara turned the page again.

‘They are a kind people, often taking in orphans of war or injured soldiers that are found near their village. These poor, unfortunate souls are cared for and healed by the village. The only thing that is asked of them is to be the eyes and ears of the village when they return. These Butai – or Rangers – live quiet, innocuous lives in various towns and villages nearby, and send weekly reports to their village about the movement of soldiers and the political climate of their neighbors; providing an invaluable supply of information. In the event that a Linderfolk ever finds themselves out of their village, these Butai are also useful as information brokers and friends, they often provide shelter and food to wayward Linderfolk.’ So she was right... the Butai were scouts weaned from injured soldiers and war orphans, nursed back to health and asked to provide information about the world. That was... kind of cool actually. The bit about Butai being information brokers for wayward Linderfolk was probably more a detail she used to give people she roleplays with an in for interacting with her.

There were a few other shorter sections that seemed placed rather randomly on the pages, including ‘A child born from one Linderfolk parent will always be Linderfolk, no matter the other parent’, and her favorite of ‘If an Oracle leaves her village on a quest, she cannot be allowed back until it was completed’. Or the game you’re playing shuts down and throws you into another world – allegedly. She turned the page and-

“...holy sh*t, I wrote a whole timeline of their people...” Sure enough, the next page Amara flipped to had an entire timeline – covering roughly six thousand years – of events of importance to the Linderfolk. She felt the headache come back. “...I’m not reading this today...” She closed the book with a crisp ‘thwump’ and stuffed it back into her Item Box, repeating the gesture to close it. Standing, she went to her futon and rolled gently onto it, sighing happily. It may have not been what she considered ‘her own bed’... but damn if it wasn’t comfier. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, before falling asleep.

Chapter 2: Fate Eclipsing the Raven Death

Chapter Text

Amara couldn’t have been happier. As the month wore on, as she spent more and more time around Hikari and the other Linderfolk, she began to realize that a miracle had indeed happened. Someone – somewhere in the infinite black of the void – had seen fit to pull her from her previously chaotic life and had plopped her right down into the world of her own glorified fanfiction. Really, it was a dream come true. She did idly wonder a few times throughout the month however... had this world been tailor-made for her? Had some deity been as much a fan of her work as she was and created this world from scratch just for her? Or had she always known this world existed? Both were quite insane to believe... but of the two options, she chose to believe that her having ingrained, passive knowledge of this world was probably the most likely.

It had taken her some time to slip fully into the persona she had created twelve years ago, but once she had fully remembered how she had played Amara during her many roleplay adventures within YGGDRASIL, it was second nature to her to slip out of the player’s skin and into Amara’s... so simple, in fact, she terrified herself with just how effortless it all was. She spent her downtime – when she wasn’t praying to Linder or communing with the people of the village – reading her ‘Linderfolk Primer’. She felt that – if indeed everything in this book was true (which it was beginning to look more and more like the case) - it would be within her best interest to learn everything and anything she can. These people looked up to her as a spiritual guide... it would be rather gauche of her to disappoint them.

Before coming here, she had always been a restless sort... infrequently sleeping for more than an hour or two at a time before her overactive brain drew her back to the waking world. She slept much better during the execution of her job, the addition of several ‘background white noises’ made sleeping for her far easier than when they were gone. However, the sound of the wind blowing through the trees, the faint but delightful sound of conversation and laughing from the village at the base of the hill and the gentle rolling of the small waterfall near the lake by the shrine had provided just enough background white noise for her to sleep peacefully, long, and deep. Even if her bed was a simple futon on the ground – something much akin to a sleeping bag or bedroll – it was the most comfortable bed in the world to her. Never – in her entire life – had she felt this comfortable, this delighted, this ecstatic to just... exist.

She ate healthier than she had in twenty years, her food fresh and filling – lacking the preservatives and additives they did back in her last world – and the water from the well was crisp and refreshing... Linder, she didn’t even care if this was some afterlife and she was actually dead... she wanted to keep living this life, whatever form it took. She didn’t have to worry about getting run over by a drunk driver. Didn’t have to worry about getting shot as she went to the store. Didn’t have to worry about getting shot at all... and for her, that meant the world. This – she thought even now – is what Heaven must have been like... but it didn’t stop her thoughts turning dark. This life was perfect. Heaven. A utopia... unfitting for a dirty sinner like she used to be. The truth of the matter was, what unnerved Amara most about her new life... was how little she felt she deserved it.

Amara – who Amara used to be – wasn't a good person. She hadn’t been a good person since she was a young woman, before her profession overtook her life; and if you asked her parents, she hadn’t been a good person since day one. Amara had made a lot of mistakes in her life... some were perceived based off ignorant, short-sighted opinions; and others were actual, legitimate mistakes. Amara strongly felt this was about as close to a pity f*ck as she could get: something good she’ll remember for a while... but something that she ultimately didn’t deserve.

Knock, knock. A light, gentle knocking came to Amara’s door that morning – near the month anniversary of her arrival. Smiling gently and closing The Linderfolk Primer, she quickly shoved it back into her Item Box and stood, dusting her robe off with a quick motion from her hands. “Enter.” She spoke simply, slipping effortlessly back into the character she had been playing this whole time. Though, with each and every interaction with her people, she felt it becoming less of a character, and more her actual personality. The door gently opened to Hikari stepping in with a broad smile on her face, and a pair of towels in her hand.

“Pardon the intrusion.” She spoke gently and with a nod. A lot of Linderfolk customs could easily be choked up to ‘painful anime stereotypes’, but that’s just the kind of person Amara was when she made the character... the kind of world she wanted to live in. Amara just smiled to Hikari and went to the door to hold it open for her.

“Perish the thought, sweet Hikari. Your presence is never an intrusion.” Hikari just smiled to that and laughed, bowing a little with her head.

“Well, thank you, Amara.” The book had told her a lot about her relationship with Hikari; and so far, everything in that book had turned out to be wholly or at least mostly true. The only fact that seemed incorrect was the statement that most Linderfolk live in small villages of between fifteen and twenty people, though there were a few more in this village – Akalli Village, it was called – with a population of thirty five. The book said Hikari was Amara’s childhood friend, and she was the major driving force behind Amara deciding that it must be her to leave the village to seek aid against this ‘Raven Death’ the book spoke so animatedly about. The night before Amara left the village, Hikari had confessed her love for Amara – far more than platonic or even familiar – and it had placed Amara in a situation that there was no good solution for. Her faith demanded that – as Oracle – she was to remain pure her whole life, so that in death she could become one of Linder’s wives in the afterlife... however she could not refute Hikari’s love, as she felt much the same. Her faith and her heart were in conflict, and Amara’s answer was to flee from the problem.

“Is it that time of the week again, Hikari?” Amara asked, Hikari smiling at her and nodded happily. In the section that detailed Amara’s daily life, there was mention of her weekly baths with Hikari, as Hikari was her caretaker and her voice to the common man. It was her job to see her made happy in this life, and to remain stress-free so that her dreams may be free for Linder to speak to her. Really, Hikari did far more work than was necessary... she didn’t want to shatter the young woman’s delusions of importance (she was important, don’t misunderstand), but the calm of the forest did a great deal for Amara’s peace of mind.

Hikari was never an NPC in YGGDRASIL... she was just a filler character she had created as a half-assed, not-quite-so-subtle way of coming to terms with her own sexuality. Of course, even if Amara had been in a guild long enough to earn NPC creation rights, she probably wouldn’t have made Hikari... she served her purpose better as being some mythical, no-faced name for her to dream about at night. Though, having said that? The Hikari that existed in this world was definitely the girl of her dreams. Hikari smiled to her as she nodded happily. “It is, my friend. I hope you don’t mind that-” Amara smiled and put a hand on Hikari’s cheek, stopping her mid-sentence.

“Enough, Hikari dear... how long have we been doing this?” She knew the answer to that question in the book, but she wanted to be certain that answer matched the actual answer.

“...our whole lives, I know...” Hikari beamed happily. The answer – as it happened – did match with what was in her book. Amara just smiled and patted her cheek.

“If I have yet to stop you, I do not believe I ever will.” She smiled and took the towel on the top of the stack, hanging it over one of her arms. “Now come! Enough of this silliness, and let us enjoy the lake this afternoon. How is the water?”

“Brisk, but not overly cold. It should be just the thing we both need to wake up.” To be fair, most of Amara’s tiredness was residual from her last life... the whole ‘not able to sleep more than a few hours a night’ thing she mentioned, compounded by what she did for a living draining all her happiness. Amara nodded and followed Hikari out of her house and around the back, towards a small natural spring set against a small cliff, a small stream pouring endlessly into the lake. Amara didn’t have to go far if she wanted to soak in a bath... though she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss having the occasional warm shower. They walked, Hikari’s arm intertwined with Amara’s the short few dozen feet to the small lake, Hikari folding her own towel and placing it on the small stone bench by the water. She untied her obi and undressed out of her plain white kimono.

Hikari – like Amara herself and indeed most Linderfolk – was quite the petite thing. Standing at an adorable four foot five (only three inches shorter than Amara herself), she looked – at first glance – much like a teenager, or perhaps a freshly minted young adult; though Amara knew better than anyone that Hikari was her same age, a youthful but mature twenty-three. Reaching up, Hikari collected her long hair and tied a simple black ribbon around it, keeping it up in a neat ponytail before slipping a pair of ornate, laquered chopsticks from her kimono pocket (she was glad their kimonos and robes had pockets... Amara had gotten far too used to pockets in her daily life to forsake them) and proceeded to put her hair up in a bun at the top of her head and held them in place with the chopsticks. It still unnerved Amara (just a little) to see the space at the side of Hikari’s head where human ears should be just... devoid of their occupants. It had taken her a bit of trying to put her hair behind her ear, only to find that an impossibility with her ears at the top of her head. “Want me to get your hair?” Hikari asked, knocking Amara out of her trance. She must have looked like quite the pervert, just staring at Hikari as she stood naked before her.

“Ah... yes, please? You know how I struggle.” Not completely a lie... Amara – in her previous life – had short hair, so she didn’t really know how to handle her now-long hair... part of her screamed at her to just take her katana and hack it all off but... well, the backlash of that might be astronomical. Hikari giggled a little at her words and nodded, taking a second pair of chopsticks from her kimono pocket and walking over to Amara as Amara undressed herself. The one thing Amara was definitely not missing from YGGDRASIL? The game forcing her to wear plain, painfully utilitarian underwear beneath her robe. Since her race was still technically ‘human’ in all the ways that mattered, the game forced her to wear human underwear which – as mentioned – was about as interesting as watching paint dry. Now, she could wear whatever she wanted under her robes... which as it so happened, was nothing.

Hikari went up behind Amara and began to collect her long black hair in her hands, holding the ponytail with one as she opened her hand palm-up to Amara. “Ribbon?” Amara handed her the meters long crimson silk ribbon in her hair, Hikari giggling a little. “...you could probably afford to have a smaller one made for moments like this, Amara... what am I supposed to do with all this extra tail?” She was referring to the tail of the ribbon. Amara just shrugged.

“I trust you to find an agreeable solution, Hikari.” That was a far more polite way of telling her she didn’t particularly care what she did with it.

“Mmm... I think I have an idea!” She hummed as she continued to tie her hair up, eventually putting it in a large bow with four large loops and the tails looping up the side of her hair, loosely around her ears and then between them, only to be tied into a fifth and sixth bow. “There! That should keep your hair out of your face.” Amara felt Hikari’s hands flitter down her head and to her shoulders.

“Thank you, Hikari... you are too kind to me.”

“Of course! Now... let’s relax!” Without waiting for anything else, Hikari waded into the lake and took a seat on the rocks below, sighing deeply as she soaked. “...oh, it’s warmed up a bit...” She smiled, the water just sitting a bit above her breasts. After Amara folded her robes up and placed them next to Hikari’s kimono, she too waded into the lake and dropped to a sit on the smooth stones just below the surface. Hikari leaned her head back and closed her eyes, soaking up the water’s feeling; giving Amara enough time to indulge in her favorite past time. Hikari – as mentioned – was a petite thing, her body small and smooth without much in the way of blemish or muscle tone. She was possessed of an upper A, lower B cup which matched her smaller frame nicely. Honestly? Amara couldn’t complain. She never did understand – in this world or her last – how people could find women with breasts larger than an ICBM attractive. She could a little, but they could not be comfortable to walk around with... it was like driving an expensive car. Sure, if you had the money you could always buy one... but why though? A cheaper car served the same function and wasn’t liable to get you into trouble. “You’re staring.” Hikari smiled, her eyes never opening, causing Amara to chuff to herself.

“I am doing no such thing.” Amara turned her gaze away and closed her eyes indignantly, pretending to be offended by the very insinuation she was staring. “I was observing your beauty... there is a difference.” She cracked a smile as Hikari giggled.

“Well then... that changes things.” Hikari opened her eyes and looked directly at Amara. “’Observe’ away, precious Amara.” Amara watched a small blush creep across Hikari’s face as she turned her attention away from her. After a few moments, the listless smile on Hikari’s face slowly faded. Before Amara could ask if something was bothering her, Hikari spoke up. “...Amara...?” She asked gently, Amara smiling to her and nodding.

“Yes, dear?” She answered gently, Hikari seeming to slip deeper into the small lake.

“Might I... ask for advice?”

“Of course dear. It is what I do, after all.” Hikari managed a weak smile and a chuckle.

“...I know. I just... y’know, never thought I’d need this kind of advice.”

“Speak, dear Hikari, and let Linder hear of your problems.” Hikari shivered a bit at that, but regardless she nodded. She drew in a deep breath and cleared her mind.

“Okay...” She began simply, collecting her thoughts. “I... am in love with someone.”

“Oh-ho?” Amara smiled, an upturn in her voice and lips telling Hikari she found this amusing. “Is that so? I would have thought that your heart would never be claimed...” Hikari sunk a bit deeper into the water.

“...you tease me maliciously...” She whined, causing Amara to reach over and touch her shoulder gently.

“Sorry, dear... please, go on. I will not tease you more.” Hikari huffed and puffed her cheeks out at Amara, but eventually nodded.

“...my problem is... I feel... dirty... when I think of claiming this person for my own.” Amara blinked, looking carefully at Hikari.

“Another holds their heart?” She asked, causing Hikari to shake her head.

“N-no... well... not really? They hold another’s heart.” Amara nodded for her to continue, which she did after a moment. “They are... in love with another. I know it is wrong but... there are times when I see them and I... I want to steal them away. To bring them as far from the village as I can – spit on the consequences – and live happily with them...”

Real talk: Amara knew exactly who Hikari was talking about... only a blind idiot couldn’t tell that Hikari was smitten completely with Amara. It was written in her Primer, and the more she interacted with Hikari the more super painfully obvious it was that she was not just ‘smitten’ with Amara, but head-over-f*ckin'-heels stupid in love with her. Therein lay the problem, however. Oracles were the mortal wives of Linder, unable to marry or even have sex in their entire lives, save on some very incidental situations. They were allowed to have children, of course, but only during a certain time of the year, and it was frowned upon for either party – the Oracle or the father of her child – to be romantically attached... it was just that: procreation. But of course, being a woman herself, Hikari wasn’t allowed that luxury... it was why an Oracle’s caretaker was always female... to prevent feelings from being developed. Of course, it didn’t stop feelings from forming, but it did reduce the chance. Though, having said that, this was a deviation from what was written in her book... in Amara’s backstory, it was stated that it was Hikari confessed on the day Amara left the village... not Hikari confessing to Amara in a roundabout way in the damn bath. “...I am torn, Amara... my heart swells when I see this person, and I know that... that they cannot love me as I love them. They belong to another and it would be bad of me... no... cruel of me to think they could ever love me as I love them... Does... does Linder have any advice on unrequited love?” Amara gave a slow, understanding nod.

“You are in quite the predicament dear... and I fear that the advice you seek will not be what you want.”

“...I know but... I have to hear it regardless... I need to hear from your lips – from Linder’s lips – that which I already know.” Amara drew in a breath at this, and nodded.

“Linder has laid two paths before you, Hikari... two paths that are as painful as they are narrow. You could confront your loved one and confess to them your feelings. A true friend will never push you away for your affections... in fact, a true friend would want to know how much they mean to you. I cannot say they will – or could – return your affections, but I know for a fact they will not think less of you for confronting them directly.”

“...okay...” Hikari mumbled, nodding. “...I... don’t think I could do that... whenever I’m around them I... I lock up, I freeze... I can hardly remember to breathe, much less which words to put into which order so that I sound at least a little intelligent... What...” She swallowed her nerves. “...what’s the other path?” Amara paused, closing her eyes and steadying herself. She didn’t want to say it, but she had to.

“...you forget them entirely. You acknowledge that they will never be yours, and you learn to live with this unfortunate fact. You push them out of your mind and live your life in blissful ignorance to their own feelings.” Amara opened her eyes in time to see how completely this hurt Hikari. Her cerulean eyes widened and upturned in great sadness, a pair of salted tears rolling over her cheeks as this information hit her hard and mercilessly. Amara watched whatever hope she might have had drain out of her cheeks at the thought.

“...oh...” Her voice was impossibly small at this. She didn’t want to believe these were the only two options. “...that’s it? I just have to... what? Accept that I can never be happy?”

“Come now, Hikari. You know as well as I that love does not come only once in one’s lifetime. Even if they refuse your affections – or cannot accept them – it does not mean the end of one’s world.”

“I risk heartbreak, Amara... or worse... becoming a Dead Eyes.” Dead Eyes... Aye, Amara had written about them, too. Dead Eyes were – in layman’s terms – Yandere. Linderfolk that have had their affections shunned or perhaps lost their loved ones run the risk of desperately attempting to stave off heartbreak and sadness by pursuing anyone who shows them even a modicum of attention. This pursuit is usually aggressive, obsessive and bloody as they will not allow any object of their affections to be intimate or even close with another, and in extreme situations will leave a bloody path of destruction in their wake; killing the object of their affection, anyone close to them, and then ultimately themselves. Some would agree that becoming Dead Eyes was a fate far worse than death... most equating it to an undeath-like state. The person breathes, they eat and sleep and speak like a normal person... but all life in their eyes is all but gone; hence the name.

Amara didn’t tell Hikari this to torment her... quite the opposite. She did it because she fully expected there to come a time when Hikari would bite the bullet and confess to Amara... and Real Life Amara would not make the same mistake as In-Game Amara had. She would not refuse or push Hikari away... she would find a way to accept her feelings in a manner that would please both Linderfolk tradition and her bride-to-be. Hikari had danced naked in Amara’s head for twelve years since her creation on that faithful day... danced a beautiful dance that Amara could neither remember the steps for, nor ever truly forget. She wanted her to be happy. She just... didn’t know how to do that yet. “Hikari...” Amara spoke, shifting over to sit herself closer to Hikari, placing a hand on her cheek. “...what is Linder’s third Law of Life?” Hikari scoffed, putting her hand atop Amara’s on her cheek.

“...you know I’m terrible at remembering every one of His lessons...” She idly rubbed the back of Amara’s hand as she thought. “Something about... love being eternal...”

“’There are only two certain things in this world, my children...’” She began to quote. “’The first is that life is fleeting; decide, or forever regret your indecision. The second is that love – in any and every form – is to be cherished. The love for your mother, for your father... for your sisters and brothers... for your husbands and wives. All is precious in My eyes.’” Amara continued to stroke her cheek. “Confess to your loved one, Hikari... I assure you – I promise you – they will only think less of you if you fail to be honest with them, and yourself.”

“That’s easy for you to say...” Hikari muttered, gripping Amara’s hand tight. “...what if I cause them trouble? What if my confession puts them in a situation they don’t want? Can’t have... I... I think I can handle being rejected, but I couldn’t stand the thought that I would cause them trouble, just because I’m too stupid to... to keep my mouth shut...”

“That is a what-if that cannot be answered... until you decide.” Hikari took a deep breath and squeezed Amara’s hand.

“...you’re right. I’m just getting myself all worked up over nothing. There’s no one in this village who would think less of me for being attracted to this person... in fact, I think they would find it more surprising if I wasn’t.” If that wasn’t the crown prince of all dead-ass giveaways, Amara didn’t know what was.

“There is my girl. You are far stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Amara smiled brightly, hugging Hikari. “Now come! I would love for you to join me in my afternoon prayers. I think you will find it enlightening.” Hikari smiled and purged the worry from her system with a deep breath.

“I would be glad to join you, my dearest friend.”

They dried from their bath and languidly redressed as they continued to speak of lighter things. It pained to Amara to see Hikari so hurt as she spoke of this ‘mystery’ love, especially knowing what Amara did... but she couldn’t simply come out and tell Hikari she knew... Hikari was always a gentle soul... never could stand knowing she wasn’t as subtle as she thought. They went back to Amara’s small house and Amara joined her at the small jade torii statuette near her bed to pray. Hikari – Amara had no doubt – prayed the Linder would forgive her for trying to steal one of his wives from him, and Amara prayed that Hikari would find her courage to open her heart up to Amara sooner rather than later. They spent the rest of the night reminiscing about old times over tea. Shockingly, with each story Hikari began to tell of their childhood – a childhood that Amara had no memory of because she simply wasn’t there for – Amara found the memory flooding into her mind in rich, vivid detail. All Hikari had to do was begin the story and before she could even get halfway through the opening, Amara knew exactly which one of their many adventures she was referring to. By that night, she was even able to start some of her own reminiscing. “It is late...” Hikari spoke with a frown, her gaze turned out the small window over the shrine to see the star-speckled sky and the brilliant moon beaming its romantic glow through the trees and the window. “I should allow you to get some rest... it would be cruel of me to rob you of your much-needed sleep.”

“I enjoy our time together regardless, Hikari. Please, do not be a stranger.” Amara reached out and rested her hand on Hikari’s, her thumb gently stroking the back of Hikari’s hand as she smiled. Hikari looked down at Amara’s hand and smiled a simper of confusion, her mind in overdrive to translate the meaning of her actions. With a light shake of her head, she looked up to Amara.

“And I always enjoy whatever time I can spend with you, Amara.” She took the last mouthful of tea and placed the cup on the table. “Shall I see you tomorrow?”

“Of course, sweet Hikari.” Hikari took one last look at Amara’s hand and stood, bowed formally at the waist, and excused herself to the door. She languished for a moment at the doorframe, staring back at Amara like a kicked puppy before leaving and closing the door behind her. Amara waited for a moment – retained her formal air for a bit longer – before sighing. “...girl’s down bad, and terrible at hiding it...” She smiled to herself. Yawning a bit, Amara stretched in her cushion. Today had been long, but enjoyable... but it was time for her to turn in. Undressing for bed, she performed a few last moment before bed stretches before lying herself down on the futon and closing her eyes, once more falling asleep to the sounds of the solitude of Akalli Village.

She had never been a heavy sleeper... even today – with all these calm, peaceful changes that had made her sleep deeper and more fulfilling – she would still wake at the slightest change in the outside world... as if her body was still wound tight around itself; like the guts of a springrazor trap... which is exactly what drew her out of her sleep that night. As she slept, an acrid stench played at her sensitive nose; the back of her throat burning as something thick filled the night air. Pulling herself out of her torpor, she looked around, the stench of brimstone and smoke hanging heavily all around her; the window above her shrine shining an angry, orange glow through the wooden lattice that danced and flickered across her walls and floor. She was up in a flash, draping her robe over her shoulders quickly as she took hold of her katana – resting beside the bed – and hurried outside.

The moment her door opened, she was assaulted by an oppressive wave of heat which dried her eyes and caused her to shield them. The smell of smoke blasted her in the face and the flickering orange lights revealed themselves to be flames. Everything around her was burning – the village’s homes, their rice fields, the surrounding trees, even the very air seemed to immolate around her. She was thrown instantly into a frenzy. She opened her mouth to call out to someone, but a cloud of smoke raced down her throat the moment her mouth opened, causing her to cough and choke on the stinging discharge. Clasping a hand over her mouth, she coughed out the smoke and rushed down the mountain towards the village proper. There, she was met with a grim sight... bodies of her people – some sliced to pieces and others burned to unidentifiable husks – littered the square of town. She drew her sword and pushed through the curtain of black smoke that blocked her path.

“Ama - koff koff! Khoooooffff!” A familiar voice tried to call out to her, but was interrupted by a harsh coughing fit as the smoke attempted to choke it. “Amara-!” The voice returned, causing Amara to push through the curtain of black, following her internal plan of the village towards the center of town, where a lone tree sat. Tonight, the tree was a massive torch at the center of town as it belched black smoke into the air. As Amara got close to the voice, the figure of a woman appeared against the flickering flames behind her. She rushed forward and put her hands on Amara’s shoulders... it was Hikari. She coughed violently, her face covered in dirt and scratches of unknown origin, her oldest friend fighting against the stinging in her bloodshot eyes to smile at Amara. “Thank Linder I-” She coughed again, the smoke doing its damnedest to stifle the woman’s words. “-Linder I found you! It’s terrible!”

“Hikari-” Amara tried to choke back the coughing fit that threatened to rumble up her throat. “-what is going on?”

“I don’t know! I woke up to the village on fire!” She gave another violent cough. “I can’t find the Elder or any of the-” As she was going through her report, Amara heard a deep, powerful voice speak two fear-inducing words behind Hikari; the voice’s owner wholly and insultingly unaffected by the thick miasma of smoke around her.

“Grasp Heart.” The voice spoke with an echo of malice.

“Ah-ha-” Hikari gave a weak gasp as her body convulsed a single time, her face paling rapidly as she fell limp in Amara’s arms. Amara tried to call out to Hikari, only to find the smoke once more choking her. Dropping to her knee, Amara lowered Hikari onto it, looking her over. She was limp and lifeless in her arms, her mouth lightly hung open mid-gasp as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

“...Hikari...?” Amara mumbled, gently shaking her lifeless friend. “Hi-Hikari?” Her voice trembled as realization settled in. “Hikari!” She shrilled.

“It is useless. You should, however, feel gladdened that she died instantly. Painlessly...” The voice gave a low, sardonic chuckle. “...a finer death than most of your people.” From the smoke curtain that surrounded her, Amara watched a massive figure step through and stand just before her. The figure stood tall and broad before her, its shape twice as tall as her and at least four times as broad; a draping robe hiding its body features from her; the flickering light of the flames nearby giving it a reflective purple sheen, like the sun bouncing off the wings of the raven. The figure towered over her, staring down at her. Amara looked up to it defiantly, a pair of tiny crimson embers smoldering in the shadow of where its head should be... tiny, beady eyes judging her. “I offer you the same death... it is the least I can do to one of your... faith...” Amara – blinded by anger and fear – laid Hikari’s body on the ground and drew her sword from its scabbard. The silhouette just laughed another deep, sardonic laugh. “So full of fire... so full of... heart.” The figure shifted as it lifted a hand, fleeting images of bone-like fingers appearing before her eyes just before- “Grasp Heart.” She felt as though something had wrapped cold, dead fingers around her heart and her body jerked, feeling as though the fingers tore her heart out her chest. She felt the blood in her body run cold as all the strength left her muscles. Dropping to her knees and falling to her side, she remained conscious long enough to see the huge silhouette twirl in place, raven cloak fluttering in the flickering flames as the cold embrace of death reached up and claimed Amara.

“Amara!” Hikari’s voice tore her from her nightmare and caused her to grab instinctually at Hikari’s shoulder. Sweat poured down her face, soaking her sheets and futon in the physical reminder of her worst fears made manifest. Hikari’s face softened as Amara’s eyes darted about, desperately attempting to get their bearings. “Thank Linder! I came to join you for your morning prayer, and I found you locked in a death trance! You were unresponsive, but sweating profusely...” Her light, relieved smile faded as she moved a strand of hair from Amara’s face. “...you’re pale... are you ill?”

“...Hikari...” Amara breathed in relief once the truth of it all had settled in. It had been a dream... a horrible, horrible dream. “...you are okay...” Hikari smiled a little at that and giggled.

“Well, of course I am... why wouldn’t I be?”

“...I... watched you die... in my arms...” Hikari’s smile faded again as Amara stared down at her shaking hands.

“I... you what...?” She mumbled almost inaudibly.

“I... had a dream...” Amara scoffed to herself. “Who am I kidding...? It felt so real... the... village burned, a thick cloud of smoke choking out all light and life... You called out to me, and... before I could ask what happened you... you died. Something or... someone... tore your heart out...” Amara put both hands on her head. “...Linder, I watched you die...”

“It was... was just a dream, Amara...” Amara – head still in her hands – shook her head.

“...you know as well as I do Hikari... Oracles do not just dream...” Hikari frowned, her heart sinking. She knew this to be truth... Oracles did not dream like lesser men and women... “It... Linder, it felt so damn real...” Linder communicated with his Oracles through their dreams. That’s what an Oracle’s dreams were... visions. Prophecy. This wasn’t some bit of undigested meat or a delusion brought on by a surfeit of heat... this was Linder telling her something... and she knew what. “Hikari... find the Elder... I must speak to him.” Hikari stared long at Amara before nodding.

“...are you okay...?”

“I... I am... going to be. But I must speak with the Elder.” Amara moved her arm and patted Hikari’s shoulder. “Go, please. Find him.” Hikari nodded and stood, taking one final look at Amara before rushing out to do as she asked. As Amara stood after Hikari left, she felt her legs betraying her, quivering uncontrollably as she fought gravity to stand. “...what was that...?” She mused to herself, bracing herself against the small table by her bed and carefully using it to help herself up. “...screw that, who was that?!” She continued. “Grasp Heart... an YGGDRASIL spell...?” She shook her head. Grasp Heart was a high-tier Necromancy skill... seventh or eighth level, she didn’t know off-hand. As one could imagine, it had an instant-death effect that almost always proc’d on a target of lower level than the caster. What’s more? It could only be used by Grotesque players... greater undead more specifically.

She took a few minutes as her legs recovered to redress in her robes and wipe the sweat from her face and chest... Linder be good, she was still sweating like a terrified child... She took several deep breaths and tried to slow her heart, but her face was still pale from the shock, and no matter what she did or tried, she wouldn’t stop sweating and her heart refused to stop racing. With her legs in some semblance of steady, she leaned against the wall at the far wall across from her door near the icebox in the kitchen, her hands pressed to her face as she tried to steady her still racing heart. After another few precious moments of silence, the door opened.

“Amara... we’re here.” Hikari spoke.

“Oracle...” The Elder spoke, his voice even and cheerful as he entered. “Hikari has been rather...” His sentence cut off as his gaze fell on Amara’s trembling figure. “Linder be good, Oracle... are you alright? You’re as pale as death...”

“A fitting analogy...” Amara finally removed her hands from her face and stood from the wall, motioning gently to the table. “Sit, Elder... and you Hikari. I... I must tell you something.” The Elder looked to Hikari, who only returned his look with a nod; the pair going to the small floor table and taking their places on the cushions. Amara steadied herself and took her place across from them... and against the screaming cacophony of every fiber of her very being... she forced herself to recount the dream to the pair.

As Amara spoke, it became obvious to her that her words terrified both the Elder and Hikari, the woman across from her going whiter than freshly fallen snow and the Elder’s wizened form shivering even imagining the horrors Amara described. Everything else she had written in her book had come true. Everything about her daily schedule, to the pages of information on the Linderfolk in general... she must have been stupid to think this part of her backstory would have been conveniently left out.

“The... Raven Death?” The Elder mused, his muddied emerald eyes betraying no small measure of fear. “Could... this be related to the dream you had a month ago? When you collapsed outside the shrine?”

“There can be no doubt. The... similarities are too striking.”

“And the spell the Raven Death cast... it killed you both in a heartbeat?”

“It took a second or two longer for it to work on me... but I cannot deny that I undoubtedly died. It felt as though someone... ripped my heart out with their bare hands.”

“...I’ve never heard of magic like that before...” Hikari sounded terrified. “...to kill with but two words? What kind of beast could command such power?”

“Mmmm...” The Elder grunted. “The ancient legends speak of such powerful magic. ‘Sokushi’ it’s called... instant death. It was said to be the same kind of magic that Liantis the Betrayer used to murder Great Oracle Linder in her sleep.” Amara listened to them speak, collecting every piece of information she could. She couldn’t tell them she was all too familiar with the concept... how do you tell them you used to see it all the time in another life in a damn video game? Plus, with her nerves frazzled as such, she wasn’t exactly thinking properly. She wracked her brain for some kind of light at the end of the tunnel, her thoughts turning back to her book.

‘The Raven Death. The name Linder gave to the great calamity that would decimate Akalli Village in ten year’s time. Should Oracle Amara fail to secure allies and gain enough strength to beat back the Raven Death – whatever form it took – then her village, and eventually her entire race – would suffer a fate far worse than death.’ She kept going back to that passage. And on her second pass-over, she had her light.

“...we have time...” Amara spoke up, opening her eyes and focusing on the Elder; both he and Hikari looking surprised.

“...we do?” Hikari asked, a glimmer of hope flashing in her eyes.

“How much?” The Elder asked.

“There were children amongst the dead... none older than eight or nine...” There were currently no children at or below that age within the village. “...if I am correct, I feel we may have several years before the Raven Death arrives... no more than a decade.” Both Hikari and the Elder exhaled in relief. It wasn’t an ideal answer... but some hope was better than none.

“But still... ten years is hardly enough time to train warriors to fight this ‘Raven Death’... and by your own admission, Oracle, you stood no chance against it.” Amara took a deep breath. Looks like her idyllic life was coming to an end.

“...I must leave the village.” Amara spoke firmly. “I know we have lived in isolation for thousands of years – an exodus of necessity – but if we remain scattered and alone, we will die.”

“...you would seek aid with the other villages?” Amara pinched the bridge of her nose.

“...I will seek aid wherever I can. The other villages... Re-Estize. Baharuth... even Slane, if I must.” Oh, she had brought herself up to speed with the situation of the areas surrounding her village’s little forest. There were three major powers near enough to her village that the Elder knew of – The Re-Estize Kingdom, the Baharuth Empire, and the Slane Theocracy. Re-Estize was her absolute best option; they were open and accepting of almost all people, no matter what they looked like. Baharuth has always been a coin flip... some of their leaders are openly distrusting of non-humans while others in history have been welcoming. Recently however, most non-humans live as slaves in the Empire... but even that was preferable to how the Theocracy dealt with outsiders or – as they called them – non-believers. Stepping foot across the border to Slane was almost a guaranteed death sentence, unless Amara had the backing of one of the other factions. Her best bet was to start with Re-Estize and work her way to Baharuth, then to Slane only if absolutely necessary.

“...you would leave the village?” The Elder seemed appalled at the idea, Hikari tearing up. “Oracle... if you leave the village, you-”

“-will no longer be Oracle of Akalli Village... I know.” Each village must have an Oracle. In the event that an Oracle is forced to leave her village, a new Oracle must be named. While the former Oracle still retains the title and the benefits of it... she is almost guaranteed to forsake her happiness in the afterlife. This was the decision YGGDRASIL Amara had made when faced with this potential threat... and it’s the same decision Amara makes now when faced with the same darkness.

“...Amara...” Hikari whined, looking pathetically at her.

“Hikari... I would ask you to collect some supplies for me. I will need several day’s worth of food and water, and another pair of geta and tabi...”

“Amara...” Hikari whined again, running the back of her sleeve across her eyes.

“And a map of the area, if we have it. I do not doubt I could find Re-Estize easy enough with some directions from a helpful merchant, but better safe than sorry, I say.”

“I will find you a map.” The Elder mused, looking to Hikari, who looked ready to die. “Hikari... would you aid me?” Hikari stood, saying nothing. Her gaze never left Amara’s face as she uselessly tried to banish her tears with her kimono sleeve. Amara just smiled and nodded to Hikari, standing and slipping her katana into her obi band at her side. The Elder and Hikari (Hikari looking tortured) left to collect her supplies. Amara drew in a deep breath and stood, leaving just a moment after they had left. She didn’t want to deal with Hikari’s waterworks... she knew Hikari would beg and plead for Amara to let her go... she couldn’t take the risk. Couldn’t risk Hikari getting hurt or killed on the road... she needed an anchor to come back to... even if she came back a slave, she could hold her head high if she saved her people.

She had taken a few choice things with her, including effortlessly sliding her jade Torii statuette into her Item Box and leaving her house behind, slipping quietly through the streets towards the entrance to the village. The Elder would be quite cross with her if she were to leave without getting her supplies but... she just couldn’t stand to wait anymore. She had to go, for the longer she stayed the harder it would be to leave. Amara managed to walk to the entrance to the village – the day still new so that only a small number of people were out and about that morning. As she gazed up at the Torii arch over the entrance to the village – the crimson wood carved with the words ‘ALL LOVE FROM LINDER’ carved on the inside of the Torii – she lifted her foot to leave, mumbling a quick apology to Hikari.

“...I knew you’d do that...” Hikari’s voice stopped her dead in her tracks, Amara lowering her head and closing her eyes, a smile creeping across her lips as her oldest friend had anticipated her bullsh*t. “...knew you sent us both off with the intent to leave before we even returned!” Her voice was furious... but filled with sadness. Amara heard Hikari walk closer, her gait slow and methodical. “...did you honestly think you could fool me, Amara? My oldest friend? My sister?” She paused. “...the love of my life...”

“Hikari-” Amara turned, Hikari throwing herself forward and locking both arms around Amara’s waist.

“It’s you!” She shouted powerfully. “...it was always you... the one I loved more than anything else. You’re my sister... my best, oldest, closest friend... I love you more than life itself, and you’re just going to leave me!?” Amara felt Hikari’s tears pierce her robe’s thin cloth, soaking into the fabric. “...you’re cruel, Amara... so... so cruel to me...”

“Hikari...” Amara’s voice was soft and gentle as she stroked Hikari’s head sweetly. “Dear... sweet... ignorant Hikari...” Hikari looked up at her, her cerulean eyes bloodshot and tears streaming down her cheeks. “I have always known of your feelings... always known that you would sunder heaven and earth to be the only person I ever love.” She kissed Hikari’s forehead. “I have always cherished your friendship more than anything... basked in the warmth of your love whenever I could...”

“Look I... I know you have to leave... I know that you’d never ask anyone else to do this for you... You were always so... damned frustratingly sacrificial. You would never ask another to do what you were unwilling to do yourself... and never ask anyone to do anything at all dangerous... I won’t make you stay; I can’t make you stay... but...” She squeezed Amara tighter, her face pressing back into her chest as her tears returned. “...take me with you...”

“I cannot do that, Hikari...” Amara shook her head.

“Why not!?” Hikari shouted, glaring angrily at Amara. “Why the hell not!? We’ve been training together since we were kits! I’m just as much a fighter as you are! I’m just as faithful to Linder as you! Just as skilled as you! I’m practically your shadow! So why won’t you take me with you!?” Amara smiled gently, placing her head between Hikari’s ears and gently rubbing her head.

“...it is because all those things that you must stay. Without a protector, the village will be vulnerable... and the people will need an Oracle.”

“I'll never be half the Oracle you are...” She pressed her face back into Amara’s chest. “...I’m selfish... I’m greedy... I’m covetous... I want the same thing Linder wants from Akalli...” She snapped her gaze up to Amara, tears flowing renewed down her cheeks. “I want you! I want you, Linder be damned, and I can’t have you! It’s not fair! I don’t care about anything else, take me with you!” Her voice echoed through the trees, causing a flock of birds to fly away. Amara... just smiled.

“...you do not mean that.” Amara smiled, Hikari sniffling, and nodding.

“...not all of it...” She admitted. Amara triggered one of her skills that had remained from YGGDRASIL, a gem of a skill from the Samurai tree called ‘Master’s Gaze’. In YGGDRASIL it was used to identify the relative level of anyone using strength-obfuscating magic to conceal their level. By showing a colored aura around the person, you could get a gauge of how strong they were, based on you. Gray auras meant that they were so far below you it wasn’t even worth your time dealing with them. Blue auras meant they were still significantly lower than you, but still not something to really get your panties in a twist over. Green auras meant they were lower than you, but close enough to your strength level to be a problem if they came in groups. Yellow auras meant they were roughly your strength, providing a decent challenge without any one side being too overpowered. An orange aura meant they were a bit stronger than you, and while it was still possible to win, it would take some skill – or perhaps numbers – to pull off. Purple auras were reserved for people vastly more powerful than you... a purple aura was almost a death sentence unless you had an overwhelming numbers advantage. And black? Well, you see a black aura and you run as fast as you can in the other direction... and even then, that might not save you.

Amara and Hikari had spent their fledgling years sparring and pushing each other to be the best they could be. Amara had always known that the only deciding factor on who would become Akalli Village’s Oracle wasn’t a matter of skill or faith or dedication to their craft... but simply that Hikari was always a meek girl. She could speak freely to Amara, but when it came to anyone else, she would often fall silent and revert to listening politely. A meek disposition was not befitting an Oracle, so it was ultimately decided that Amara would inherit the mantle of Oracle on her eighteenth birthday, and Hikari would continue to do what she always did: care for Amara. So it brought a smile to Amara’s lips to see the yellow aura glowing gently off Hikari as she held her. “Hikari... you and I have always been equals... in more ways than one. You pushed me to be my best... just as I pushed you to be yours. The people need an Oracle... and I know you have always been a meek little thing... but our people need you.” Amara stroked Hikari’s cheek, the smaller girl nuzzling into the touch. “I need you here... to be something I look forward to returning to. I need you here to guide me back when the time comes. Can you do that, Hikari? Can you be my beacon in the storm?” Hikari sniffed, banishing her tears with the back of her kimono sleeve.

“...I can...” She sniffed again, shaking her head. “...no... no, not ‘I can’. I will. I will be your beacon, Amara... I’ll be here, waiting for the day you return, and the Raven Death regrets the day it decided the Linderfolk would go quietly into that ravenous night.” Amara smiled again, kissing Hikari gently on the lips.

“I know you will, dear Hikari. I know you can be strong.” The two held each other for a few more minutes before Amara spied the Elder hurrying down the path as quickly as he could, a simple rucksack in his hands.

“Ah... Oracle, there you are. I fear I had taken too long and missed you...” He smiled to her.

“Nonsense, Elder. Hikari was just coming to bid me farewell.”

“A good girl... Here.” He helped Amara put the rucksack on her back. “It’s not much – some dried lakeweed snacks and a few riceballs for breakfast... as I know you’ve yet to eat.” Amara chuckled a little at him, nodding. “And some waterskins.”

“Thank you, Elder.”

“Come now, Hikari... you mustn’t wrinkle the good Oracle’s clothing.”

“...shut up... let me just...” She sniffed again, snuggling up tighter to Amara. “...let me say goodbye...” Amara stroked her hair again.

“In that case...” The Elder gave Amara a hug as well, patting her back like a proud grandfather seeing his precious granddaughter off into the great wide world. “...allow me to wish you swift luck on your journey and a swifter return. It’s been a pleasure to watch such a fine young woman grow up... and such a fine young Oracle at that.”

“Thank you, Elder... you are too kind.” The elderly Linderlad nodded to her and gave a wave before walking away. If Amara wasn’t seeing things, she could have sworn she saw tears in the old man’s eyes.

“Hikari...” Amara spoke when the Elder was out of earshot. “...when I return... when our village is safe and has nothing to fear from the Raven Death... you and I will be bonded. I would sooner spend the rest of my life on this world with you, than a thousand lifetimes anywhere else.” Hikari sputtered a half-laugh, half-cry at Amara’s words, looking up at her.

“Careful, Love of My Life... that’s blasphemy...” She giggled, standing on her tiptoes just enough to kiss Amara on the lips. “Hurry back... don’t make a liar of yourself.” Finally releasing her, Hikari took a step back. After a moment- “Oh!” She reached into her kimono pocket and withdrew the Ribbon of the Eminent Savior, letting its length unroll and laze in her hands. “You’re forgetting something, dear Amara...” Amara laughed a bit to herself, taking the ribbon in her hands and tying her hair up into a ponytail, letting the ribbon’s large bow and tails exaggerate her silhouette.

“Thank you, Hikari... where would I be without you?”

“...go...” Hikari choked out. “Go. Before I change my mind, go.” Amara nodded and turned to the Torii arch behind her, drew in a deep breath... and ventured out of her village for the first time in her life. As Amara reached the base of the wooden stairs – the last vestiges of civilization before it turned into wild, feral forest – she heard Hikari break down into tears, her sobs carrying on the wind long after Amara had left the village.

She walked for hours through the forest, the twisted underbrush and errant roots of the trees doing their best to impede her progress. She smiled as she expertly dodged a root in her path without so much as even seeing it. Looking back at her choices during leveling in YGGDRASIL has given her quite the ideal look at how smart she was – intentionally or otherwise – while building Amara. In YGGDRASIL, there were over two thousand classes to choose from (most being so damn similar to another that sometimes the difference between a Fighter and a Gladiator was a small little bit of flavor text about how Gladiators are more apt at one-on-one combat), and with each class capping at level fifteen, you could take any number of them, so long as you collective level was under a hundred.

Amara had taken her class choices to focus on her strengths: Magic, Swordsmanship and most importantly, dodge. She had Miko, Diviner, Samurai, Priestess, Ninja and Summoner all at fifteen, and Druid at ten. The particular skill that was actively allowing her to avoid all roots, pot holes and entangling vines was from the Druid class, Nature’s Stride. In YGGDRASIL, Nature’s Stride simply negated the movement penalty on rough terrain (Ice causing you to slip around and fall over occasionally, rocks slowing you down or sand draining stamina faster); and now it seemed to serve much the same purpose, to allow her to navigate terrain others would find difficult with great ease. She continued heading east as she remembered some of her other ‘random’ skill choices to get the whole reason she took Druid to begin with: a particularly powerful party-wide healing spell called ‘Heal The Land’. In game, it just restored the HP of all nearby party members by ten percent every five seconds for ten minutes... (it was just as busted as it sounds) but it’s flavor text implied that it could also purify most instances of consecration or despoiling of the land. It fit with her priest motif, so she thought why not. Another Druid Skill – Nature's Ally – also (according to its flavor text) would allow her to navigate any exterior area without getting lost, and she could always tell exactly what time it was just by looking at the sky.

Four and three quarters of an hour later, Amara finally pushed through the last of the forest, the sun high over her head as she stood on a grassy plain stretching on as far as she could see. She stood in the grass, the wind coursing through her jet black hair and playing with the hem and sleeves of her robes. She drew in a deep breath of crisp, impossibly clean air. Of course, the air around her village was clean too... but she had always attributed that to the place having a ‘magical’ air to it... the kind of thing you’d expect to find in a hidden village... but this? This was the kind of clean you just didn’t get anymore... not at least in Amara’s previous experience. There wasn’t a hint of pollution, not a touch of diesel fumes or burning coal powerplants... just crisp, clean, natural air.

This... this is what Earth must have looked like three hundred years ago. Before the industrial revolution, before smog, and cars, and powerplants and IEDs and tanks and Full-Dive Technology... she imagined this is what Earth looked like in the dawning days of the twentieth century. Blue. Across the plain of knee-high grass, Amara spied a well-worn dirt road stretching off to her north-northwest towards a large mountain range in the far distance. Roads meant travelers. With a nod, she headed towards the road and then turned south-southeast and followed the road, enjoying the breeze and the crisp air.

Another six hours later, she found her superhuman reservoir of stamina beginning to wane (a gift from the Samurai tree) and she began to hope that a merchant or carriage would roll by. Another three hours later and she was about to just sit down on the first rock she found. She was desperate for a rest... and that’s when she crested a hill and saw a small campfire a few dozen meters off the side of the road about half a kilometer away. Even from this distance, she could see four figures moving about the fire, most like as not enjoying a meal. Smiling gently, she walked towards the fire. The closer she got, the bigger her smile got. She could tell the four figures were human – male, if their larger frames were any hint – seated on fallen logs around the fire, a large cauldron hanging over the fire. A few dozen meters away from the camp, she lifted her hand and called out.

“Hello!” She spoke in a friendly, polite tone. The four figures turned to look at her, her figure not yet illuminated by the fire. “Terribly sorry to interrupt your meal... might I trouble you for a place to rest for a time? I promise not to take any of your provisions or sleeping arrangements... I just require a few minutes to rest and directions to the nearest city.” One of the figures – a bigger one farther away from Amara – stood and hefted a large greataxe on his shoulder. It wasn’t a threatening gesture, but it was clear that he wanted her to know they weren’t defenseless. Amara stopped a few meters away. “I... I am sorry, can you understand me?”

“We can understand you, girl.” A husky, powerful voice came from the axe-wielding man. He nudged his head to the ground. “Can’t see you. Step into the light.” Amara chuffed happily. Yes, that would make sense. She did have them at a disadvantage. With a nod, she did as instructed, her arms at her waist as she stepped into the outer ring of the fire. The overly bulky mountain of a man – short brown hair and a chin full of trimmed stubble – seemed surprised to see her, the axe on his shoulder spinning gently. “A Demi-Human?” He asked, more in surprise than anything. “You’re no goblin... but that don’t change the answer. You’ll have to keep walking.” Amara’s face flickered in disappointment but decided not to push the subject.

“Gil...” Another voice to Amara’s left came, the larger man looking down at another, who was seated on a log with one hand plastered on his bandaged side. “...what’ve I told you about bein’ polite to a lady?” Gil – the large axe-wielding man – just scoffed.

“Yer too soft to a pretty face, Yor.” Amara looked at the man, her gaze falling on the expertly bandaged wound at his side.

“You are wounded...” She mused to him, the man just nodding.

“Aye, goblin took a swipe at me – pudgy little f*cker – and took a chunk out of my side... Gideon’s done wonders bandaging it... I’ll just have to wait until it heals.”

“You have made it clear I am not welcome here with you but... I would be remiss if I did not offer to see to your wound.”

“That’s okay, lass. Gideon here’s a damn good healer... I’ll be back in tip-top shape in... four, five days I’d suspect.”

“I am certain your companion is an apt healer, and I would never wish to replace him... but I can at least accelerate your healing process.”

“Accelerate?” The wounded man asked, looking Amara over, his gaze plastered on the sword at her hip. “You a magic caster?”

“I am... a great number of things.” She motioned to his side. “May I?” Yor just scoffed and sat up a bit more.

“Hell, far be it from me to refuse you...” He removed his hand as Amara advanced upon him, Gil’s grip tightening on his axe. Yor noticed the nuanced motion – as too did Amara – and glared at Gil. “Gil. Easy.”

“Demi’s a Demi, Yor...”

“Let’s not do anything rash...” Another man spoke, the one sitting catty-corner to Gil. “Besides... she’s been quite courteous, despite your rather barbaric welcome.” Amara ignored the men bickering back and forth among themselves and hiked her robe’s hem up to drop to her knees, putting one hand on his side and closing her eyes. After a few seconds, she nodded.

“Their weapons were rusty, am I correct?” Yor gawked a little at her observation.

“Y-yeah... they were. Goblins use whatever they can find... why?”

“Your wound is infected. Tetanus.” Yor looked up to the man who spoke up for Amara, who only shrugged.

“Nothing I could see.”

“It is still in the early stages... but do not worry, I shall remove it for you.” The hand Amara had hovering over his wound gently pressed to his bandage – not enough to apply pressure, but enough to maintain contact. “Cure Disease.” She spoke gently, a blue aura covering her hand and seeping into the bandage. Yor relaxed his stance for a moment, sighing.

“Haaaah, oh holy sh*t that feels so much better...”

“Regenerate.” Amara spoke again, her hand flashing green this time, the aura soaking into his bandage. “There... your wounds will heal much faster now.” She smiled to Yor. “I did not want the efforts of your healer to be wasted. They did a fantastic job dressing the wound.” From behind Amara – sitting catty-corner to Yor – another voice chimed in.

“...might you be a Linderfolk Oracle?” The young voice asked, Amara smiling to the young man who it belonged to.

“I am. You know of us?”

“Only passingly... thank you for offering us your assistance.”

“It was my pleasure.” Amara stood and settled her robe hem back down. “With that, I will bid you farewell. Could you at least point me in the direction of the nearest city?”

“C’mon, girl...” Yor smiled to her. “You’ve done us a favor, it would be cruel of me to send you on your way without some rest and some food.”

“Oh, no. I promised not to take any of your provisions-”

“Shut it.” Yor smiled, snipping playfully. “Renn? Get the girl some food, would you?”

“Of course.” The young man who identified Amara answered, reaching for one of their clean bowls and scooped up some hearty stew into it, handing her the bowl and a spoon.

“You went out of your way to help us, despite our sh*tty reception... a meal is the least I could offer you.” Yor looked up to Gil. “Ain’t that right, Big Man?” Gil grunted and put the axe back down by his side and sat, nodding.

“...guess she can stay for the night.” Amara took the bowl and smiled to Gil.

“Thank you for your kindness. I promise to be gone in the morning.”

“Think nothing of it.” Yor mused, patting his chest with his hand, the leather breastplate he wore thumping gently. “I’m Yor Urgantz. I’m a Scout, and the leader of this group of misfits.” He motioned to the young man who gave Amara her stew. “This here’s Renn Billiart, our magic caster. Don’t let his youth fool you, he’s wise beyond his years.” Renn blushed at this as Yor motioned to Gil. “And Big Man here is Gil Goblinbane, he’s our fighter.” Gil just nodded to Amara curtly. Yor motioned to the final man sitting catty-corner to Gil. “And last but certainly not least, Gideon Fel, our ranger slash medic.” The man who nodded to Amara was between Yor’s apparent age and Renn’s youth, lithe and tall. He smiled and rose a hand politely to Amara.

“A pleasure to meet you all. I am Oracle Amara Akusa, of Akalli Village.” She bowed best she could to the group, taking a seat between Yor and Gideon. Gideon seemed interested in Amara as she ate.

“Linderfolk... I’ve never heard of your people before...” Amara put a hand to her mouth to indicate she was trying to swallow, but Renn was kind enough to elaborate.

“They’re a rather insular people. They don’t tend to leave their village much. They’re not bad people but... a lot of people tend to frown upon them, because yes... they are Demi-Humans. Some people-” Ren glared at Gil. “-can’t tell a Linderfolk from a Goblin.”

“...excuse me my caution, runt...” Gil grumbled.

“I do not grudge your caution, sir. Were I in your shoes, I would have much the same reaction.” Gil looked at her and grunted.

“...thanks. You’re not too bad.” Amara beamed at that. From what she could gather about Gil, that was high praise.

Chapter 3: Trial by Fire

Chapter Text

Amara spent another few hours enjoying the company of Yor’s crew – an adventuring party hailing from E-Rantel – the capital of the Re-Estize Kingdom – that went by the name ‘Eclipse’. They chatted and ate their dinner (Amara was offered a second helping and had found herself simply unable to find the drive to refuse) until it was clear by the rapacious yawning that spread about the small camp like wildfire that the time for conversation had passed and the time for sleep had arrived. Despite her best efforts, Amara found herself unable to refuse the use of one of their spare sleeping bags to rest for the night, Renn kind enough to set it up for her. Gil opened up to Amara the more they spoke and interacted, and by the time they had shuffled off to sleep, the big man had managed a smile and a kind word to Amara to sleep well.

Amara knew, of course, that Eclipse’s friendly demeanor would not be the norm with most humans... Gil’s wariness of her when she first arrived – while disheartening – was expected to be the law of the land going forward. Re-Estize may have had a better opinion of Demi-Humans such as herself... that didn’t mean they would all be so welcoming. Taking the katana from her obi and lying it on the bedroll next to her, Amara bedded down for the night thankful for her new allies in Eclipse. It seemed – at least for now – that simple reciprocal kindness was still quite common.

Amara’s rest – for a mercy – was devoid of any Raven Deaths or deaths of any variation haunting her dreams. So deep and restful was her sleep in such close proximity to newfound friends, that she almost missed the tingling in the back of her skull. Though the feeling itself was foreign, Amara knew intrinsically what the feeling was. Precognition. One of her skills from Diviner triggering. In YGGDRASIL, Precognition was one of the many, many skills Amara had taken for the dodge chance. However, it would appear that here, it functioned like one might expect: providing her early warning to danger.

Amara rose early in the morning – just as the first rays of the sun were cresting the horizon – with discomfort in the pit of her stomach. She looked around, the cool early morning breeze playing with her hair and the folds of her clothes as she searched for the source of the discomfort. It felt like a dozen needles prickling along the surface of her brain, concentrated on the left side of her head. Turning, she faced a copse of trees some distance out – forty meters away or so – which moved in a very unnatural way. At a passing glance, it would have been forgivable to think it simply the wind filtering through the leaves... but the Druid in her knew that something lurked within those trees.

She took a moment to look at her companions – the four of them still sound asleep from their night of conversation – before rising to her feet, slipping her katana into her obi. “Yor?” She spoke gently, nudging the older man with her foot.

“Mmgh...” he grumbled, unwilling to be woken from his rest. After a second nudge from Amara’s foot, he grunted. “Mgh-! Whu-”

“Sssh...” Amara silenced him gently. “We are being watched.”

“Watched?” He grunted, sitting up a bit more on his bedroll. Once he began to move, the tingling intensified and Amara reacted. Drawing her sword, she brought the steel blade up just in time for a roughshod wooden arrow to strike the blade and splinter into fragments. The sound of the arrow splintering was a gong to Yor, snapping the man instantly from his fatigue and throwing him to his feet.

“Gil, Gideon, Renn, get up!” Yor shouted powerfully, his tone carrying far and rousing his companions from their sleep. Gil was up first, the man’s meaty hands grabbing at his axe and hefting it up to a ready stance. Amara watched the underbrush from the copse split and spew forth a dozen or so goblins – small, gross little creatures with distended bellies and gnarled, rotten teeth – as they charged the small camp, their ramshackle weapons raised in an attempt to frighten the small group of adventurers. “Damn! They’ve found us!” Yor growled to himself, pulling both his swords from their scabbards and getting himself into position. He was still injured, but he was fixing to be in a much bigger pickle if he didn’t defend himself, injury be damned.

“Ah-ha!” Gil blustered at the sight of the goblins charging them down. “Come for round two, have you!?”

“Amara, hang back with Renn; Yor, Gil and I can handle the front lines!” Gideon span off, picking his bow from its place by his bedroll and shouldering his quiver. Amara didn’t bother arguing with the man, instead deciding she’d do as instructed. Gideon no doubt believed her to be a caster – much like Renn – and she also didn’t doubt there was a slight protective undertone there... she was a much smaller person than even Yor. It worked out well enough for Amara. She checked the goblins that beared down on the group with her Master’s Gaze, delighted to see the whole hoard as nothing but a gaggle of useless gray cannonfodder monsters bearing down to their end. Of course, Yor and his crew were blue to her, so they might have been more dangerous to them.

She didn’t want to just... blow them all away and draw too much attention to herself. She didn’t know where she sat on the power curve of this world... was she stronger than the average person? Weaker? Somewhere in between? Regardless, she didn’t want to tip her hand too much before she had a better idea of how this world worked. “Do you know any protective spells perchance?” Renn asked her, Amara simply nodding to his question. Again, she didn’t want to drop her big stuff down to draw unnecessary attention... but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help.

“I do. A moment.” She closed her eyes and muttered a quick few words. “Essence of the Behemoth.” She spoke, Gil’s body flashing red as his muscles bulked up and surged with raw strength. Her gaze turned to Yor – the scout more apt at dodging and avoiding damage than taking it (much like herself) so- “Spirit of the Wolf.” Yor felt his muscles loosen and found it easier to move, even despite the fatigue he still fought. She looked to Gideon and nodded. “Owl Sight.” She cast another spell on him, allowing him to more easily spot the weakpoints on the goblins, his arrows flying faster and truer than they ever had. And... for giggles? “Iron Skin.” She muttered again, everyone’s bodies flashing with a steel-like sheen, hardening them against damage.

Amara watched Gil wade into the tidal wave of goblins like a dervish of death, his axe shattering through grotesque bone and putrid skin, entire packs of goblins sent launching into the air and around as he swung his massive weapon in brutally fierce arcs, fetid blood marking the path the weapon took. The muscular man seemed to revel in the blood splattering his bare chest as he rose his axe into the air with both hands and released a bestial battle cry which sent the closest goblins fleeing in terror.

Yor – for his part – twisted and ducked around and under the monster’s attempts to give him additional wounds, his twin short swords finding homes in as many bellies as he could find; dishing out the injury he had received the other day a dozen times over. He laughed coyly to himself as he delighted in his body’s newfound agility; parrying what blows he couldn’t dodge and lopping off body parts wherever he could.

That’s not to say that Gideon had been lax... far from it. He had the all-too familiar deathly calm of a skilled marksman, mechanically and quickly knocking an arrow – spending only a fraction of a second to line the shot up – before releasing it and sniping another goblin directly between their beady, hungry eyes. The three worked in frightful tandem, Gil sending the majority of them into a confused frenzy of scrabbling legs and flailing arms as Yor and Gideon picked off the individuals in their own unique ways. Renn and Amara watched, a smile plastered on Renn’s lips as he took in the sudden change in his comrade’s skills. Of course, he had not been idle in his appreciation of the carnage, oh no. Occasionally, he would summon a spike of ice at the tip of his staff and launch it screaming into the group of goblins to deal with the ones he could... and unlike Gideon’s arrows, Renn’s ice javelins managed to pierce two or three additional goblins along with.

There must have been four or five dozen of the little bastards at the beginning, and after only a few scant moments of combat, the raiding party had been wholly and completely decimated. Amara watched in delight as she sheathed her sword at her hip, the battle high the four adventurers felt fizzling as the last of the goblins turned and fled back into the trees, their ambush thwarted, and their numbers decimated. Gil dropped his axe blade-down into the dirt as he huffed from his exertion. “...whoa...” Yor flexed his hands as he felt the last of the spell fade. “You can heal and cast beneficial spells... what else can you do?” He smiled to Amara.

“The sword is not just for show.” Amara responded.

“You’re a melee fighter too?” Yor chuffed happily, running a hand through his hair.

“I had heard Oracles were amazing...” Renn beamed up at her, practically lovestruck. “...but I had no idea they would be this amazing!” Gil – the huge mountain of a man – smiled at Amara, nodding to her in approval.

“...I take back what I said about you last night.” Amara just smiled to him happily.

“I never took offense... but thank you for that.” She looked to Yor. “Was that the same band that injured you?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “Apparently, they got big heads after we retreated yesterday and decided to pursue.”

“You were forced into retreat? What happened?”

“We were assigned out here by the Adventurer’s Guild to cull what they called a ‘small goblin camp’... wasn’t supposed to be more than a dozen of them...” Gideon sighed, sitting back down on the log by the dead fire. “...there were a lot more than just a dozen.”

“I can see...” Amara nodded. “Do you think they will return?” Yor chuffed at that, shaking his head.

“Goblins get big heads easily, but their courage can be just as easily toppled. After that defeat, they’re gonna be lying low for a good long while.” He huffed happily. “Not bad for a bunch of Irons.”

“Irons?” Amara asked, quirking an eyebrow. “What do you mean by ‘Irons’?” Yor reached into the neck of his tunic and retrieved a chain hanging around his neck, an iron plate hanging at the center of the chain and showed it to Amara.

“This little plate around our necks. It’s our Adventurer’s Plate. It’s a way for us to wear our ranks openly for all to see. The Iron Plate means that we’re experienced, but only enough where we’re not wet behind the ears.” Gideon nodded to Yor’s explanation.

“The plate has our name on them, along with our affiliation; but past that, the material the plate’s made out of tells people how powerful we are.” Gideon finished.

“Copper’s the lowest, usually given to those just starting out.” Gil chimed in with a nod. “Then it goes to Iron, then to Silver, and then to Gold...” He ran a hand through his hair. “Gold’s about as high as normal people like us could ever hope to get, but there are four more ranks past that... I just can’t remember them.”

“Platinum, Mythril, Orichalcum and Adamantite.” Renn finished for Gil, who nodded to the smaller magic caster.

“Thank you.” Amara chuffed quietly to herself. That was the same metal tier list for anyone who wanted to become a Blacksmith in YGGDRASIL... copper was a cheap, easily obtainable metal that could be forged into mass-produced but weak armor and weapons... whereas adamantite armor and weapons were generally considered to be god-tier. A good Blacksmith could make armor and weapons of higher quality than would even drop in World Raids... and exceptionally skilled ones could make weapons and armor that could rival World Items. The Crimson Crusaders – the guild Amara had been in before her hiatus – had the second best Blacksmith in the game among its numbers – a dwarf who would forge adamantite weapons and armor on the regular, giving the best pieces to the guild and selling the rest on the market. He had offered Amara more than once to replace her iron katana with an adamantite one but... the adamantite katana model was just... way too extra and flashy for something supposed to be wielded by a simple woman like Amara.

“You know-” Gideon continued, breaking Amara out of her memories of YGGDRASIL. “-if you’re going to be going to E-Rantel, you should consider signing up at the Adventurer’s Guild. There aren’t a lot of non-humans who sign up, but the ones who do usually at least make it to Gold.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Yor nodded. “Hell, if you’d like, we’d be happy to take you on as our fifth-”

“Yor.” Gideon glared at him sidelong.

“Oh, don’t give me that, Gideon! I don’t believe that ‘don’t mix the genders’ sh*t for a second.” Amara blinked.

“I... apologize, but what do you mean?” Gideon turned his attention back to Amara.

“The Adventurer’s Guild generally frowns upon parties of mixed genders.” Amara blinked, unable to fathom as to why.

“...is there a reason for this?”

“A stupid one.” Yor chuffed. “They think that if there are mixed genders in the party, romantic relationships will form... and if that happens, it could potentially compromise the decision-making process as well as compromise the equality of the party.”

“In short-” Renn picked up. “The Adventurer’s Guild prefers parties be comprised of four people of the same gender. This way, when the party has to make a decision about jobs or work, there aren’t too many mixed opinions slowing the process down, and in the unfortunate event things don’t go as planned, they worry that romantic affections would affect a leader’s ability to make the right call. It’s not a hard rule... but larger parties, parties of mixed genders or both are often watched exceptionally closely.” Amara shrugged.

“Well... that sounds insultingly short-sighted.” Amara mused. “I would not want to cause you any undue stress.”

“It’s no stress.” Gil shrugged, Yor smiling.

“Big Man just likes your beneficial spells.” Gil shrugged again.

“Won’t lie... they’re helpful.

“Though...” Amara mused, deep in thought. “Perhaps I shall look into this Adventurer’s Guild when I get to the city...”

“You thinkin’ of joining like I suggested?”

“I am. I am... well, without boring you with details, I am on a quest to help my village. Joining the Adventurer’s Guild sounds like a decently quick way of meeting powerful people, and perhaps ingratiating myself with them.”

“Well, you’ll have to prove your worth, of course...” Yor mused. “...I got a good feeling about you, Amara... I have a suspicion you could easily reach Mythril by the time the year’s out.” Amara smiled brightly and shook her head humbly.

“You give me too much credit.”

“...I think you’re too humble...” Renn whispered to her, smiling. It would take a magic caster to see someone’s true worth.

“Well, regardless, since our job’s done, we can start heading back... you wanted directions to the nearest city, yes?” Amara smiled and nodded.

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

“Do you one better. Why don’t you follow us? We’re heading back to E-Rantel – largest city in Re-Estize... if you can’t find it there, you either don’t need it, or it doesn’t exist. I’m sure you can find any and all the help you might need, there.”

“Ah!” Amara smiled brightly, nodding. “That sounds like a much more agreeable idea! Thank you! I accept your kind offer.”

Amara and her newfound group of friends (Acquaintances?) broke camp and began to head northerly along the road. Even with their early morning ambush (little more than a spot of exercise for Amara) she felt much better after her sleep than she had when she had entered their camp the previous night. She learned a bit more about Eclipse and their profession, Adventurers. According to Yor, Adventurers were freelance agents – akin to mercenaries – who took on a menagerie of jobs that were both potentially dangerous and vital to the surrounding towns. These jobs included gathering herbs from dangerous patches of forests for alchemists, providing escort for merchants moving their wares to new climes, or even something dangerous and more ‘involved’, such as hunting wild beasts and monsters, or bandits. It was definitely something she’d expect to see in a world that had so many frightfully on-the-nose allegories to a video game.

Yor tried a few more times during their long walk north to convince Amara to join Eclipse as a full member – a sentiment echoed surprisingly by both Gil and Renn – and only officially opposed by Gideon. She didn’t think that Gideon was honestly against the idea... having an actual healer would have freed up Gideon for dedicating more of his own time to his own combat training (an admission he made freely and honestly) but he was reluctant to allow it, as he believed that with Amara’s talents, it would draw too much attention down upon them too quickly. Their last discussion of the day had happened just as the massive city walls appeared before them, the sun back-lighting the city skyline as it faded beneath the horizon.

Amara must have looked like a child stepping into Wily Wonka’s factory for the first time, her eyes wide and shimmering as she took in the size and scope of the city. She couldn’t compare the beautiful city to anything in her last life... to do so would have been unfair. The buildings were stonework with clay tile and sometime stone roofs, tight cobblestone streets that intertwined city blocks. At the center of the city was a secondary wall surrounding a large castle. Yor smiled as he gazed upon Amara’s bewildered look.

“Oracle-” He mused politely, opening his hand to the city. “-allow me to be the first to welcome you to the Fortress City of E-Rantel, the largest city in the Re-Estize Kingdom.” ‘Fortress City’... it was a title well earned from what Amara could see; tall, thick walls encircled the city and even from this distance she could see several squads of armored men patrolling along the outside and along the tops of the wall. It reminded her of some of the guild bases from YGGDRASIL, specifically the Crimson Crusaders. Guild Bases in YGGDRASIL were often plots of otherwise public land that Guilds could commission the developers to cede to them for a (usually ludicrous) sum of gold. One guild had bought one of the cities in Midgard, and her own Crimson Crusaders had bought the central cathedral of one of the smaller cities in Niflheim and converted it into their own guild base, the Crimson Cathedral. Niflheim was a mostly Grotesque world, unfriendly to human-like and demi-humans... but the Crimson Crusade (dedicated to the eradication of Grotesques) based out of Niflheim in order to ‘strike fear’ into the hearts of their ‘enemy’. Amara joined only because one of their members had saved her from getting eaten by a Mindflayer player (YGGDRASIL called them ‘brain eaters’, but Amara knew a Mindflayer when she saw one) and offered her a place.

“It is beautiful... I have never seen such a large city before...” Amara breathed gently as they continued towards the city.

“Living in seclusion like you have, I can’t imagine you have.” Renn answered as they approached the gate. The gates were held wide open – huge wooden doors flanking the road as several guards – strapping young men and women in plate armor – kept a steady watch at the gate. As Eclipse got closer, the guards raised their hands and flagged the group down, Yor muttering to Amara they had to check in at the gate. Yor complied and the group stopped just before the group of guards. They were spoken to almost instantly by a young woman – short blonde hair pulled into a bun – in armor.

“Good evening.” She spoke with a nod, the members of Eclipse returning her nod with a smile. Her gaze flicked down to the plates hanging about their necks. “Ah, welcome back, Eclipse.” Her demeanor shifted, her smile brightening a bit and her stance relaxing. “Back from another successful job?”

“Indeed!” Yor announced with a broad, confident nod.

“That’s good... I’m sure the Guild will be pleased to see you safe...” Her gaze turned to Amara, her eyes searching for Amara’s plate. “...you’ve no plate.”

“No, I do not.” Amara confirmed to her. “I am not a member of their party, they were simply bringing me to the city.” It was clear by her second shift in posture that she was wary of Amara, but doing her best to be as open and welcoming as she could.

“Well, that was kind of them...” She observed, causing Amara to nod.

“Indeed.”

“If you don’t mind me asking... what are you? You’re not human, that much is certain... but you’re no demi-human I’ve ever met...” Amara nodded politely to her.

“I am Linderfolk. I come from a village hidden in the forests to the east.” The guard seemed deep in thought, stroking the side of her head as she processed Amara’s words.

“Linderfolk, huh...? Can’t say I’ve ever heard of your people... I take it they do not leave the forest often?”

“No.” Amara answered with a shake of her head. “My people are very insular... so much so some may call us ‘xenophobic’. Though, I say it is because we simply like our solitude.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “That’s respectable. Well, is there anywhere I can show you to today? I take it this is your first time in E-Rantel?” Yor spoke up at this.

“We were actually going to show her to the Adeventurer’s Guild. She expressed interest in checking it out.” The woman nodded to his comment.

“That would be a good place to start. I’ll leave it to you, then.” She gave a little bow to Amara. “Thank you for indulging me. I hope your time in E-Rantel is an enjoyable one.” Amara returned her bow deep and proper.

“I believe it shall. Thank you.” The guard and Eclipse parted ways, Eclipse (with Amara in tow) filtered into the city as the guard continued about her job.

“Sorry to speak for you, Oracle.” Yor apologized, causing Amara to gently shake her head.

“Think nothing of it. It was what I had planned on doing to begin with.” Yor and his party showed Amara to the Adventurer’s Guild, Yor talking the whole time as he showed Amara the city. It was a huge city, a massive cemetery near the center and so many little pockets of civilization, you would be forgiven for not having the drive to see them all. With a short pitstop in the Adventurer’s Guild, Yor turned in their quest to the rep (as Amara stood politely in a far corner) before Yor approached her once more.

“Hey, so... the guys and I had a chat, and we all pretty much agree that... today would have ended much, much different if you hadn’t been there. We could have been injured or... or worse if you hadn’t been there to back us up.” He held his hand out, in which he held a small leather sack. “So we agreed you were entitled to a fair share of the quest reward-” Amara was taken back by this.

“Oh! Oh, no, please, I could not possibly take your money...” She tried to push the pouch back to him. “Please, I did nothing to deserve such kindness-”

“Please.” Yor scoffed, pushing the pouch back to her. “You’re too kind for your own good, Oracle. Take it... besides, you’re going to be hard pressed to find somewhere to live with no money.” It was foolish of Amara to think she could barter for lodging with what she had learned over the last month... human society was always going to be different than Linderfolk, and she needed to get used to paying for things like a person. Reluctantly, Amara reached out and put her hand on the pouch.

“You promise that this will not bankrupt you?” She asked. “And that you all agree upon this decision?” Yor chuckled at her questions.

“Don’t worry. We may not be rich, but we’re comfortable enough to do what we can to make sure you have a little comfort, too. And yes, we all agreed on this.” Yor cracked a smile. “Gil even apologized about calling you a Demi-Human.” Amara smiled sweetly to this, her hand closing around the purse and pulling it towards herself.

“That is very good of him. I knew I sensed a kind soul within him.” She bowed to Yor. “Thank you for this consideration... you are too kind.”

“And uh... offer’s still open, yeah? If you ever decide that you’d like to join us, we’d love to have you.”

“I think... I may wind up taking you up on that offer. Thank you, Yor. You and your friends have been far kinder to a stranger than I thought possible.” Yor chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.

“Hell, Oracle... you’re a kinder soul than any of us... But uh... we need to be heading out. Unfortunately we’re staying at an Inn only for Adventurers so... we can’t invite you to stay – not like you’d like being alone in a room with three big strapping men and little Renn, anyway. Uh... the Coin and Coffer is a pretty cheap inn, it’s right there-” He pointed over her shoulder to another building cattycornered to the Adventurer’s Guild. “-and I do mean ‘cheap’ in every definition... probably a mire to a dignified, refined woman like yourself... but you can get a bed and a meal for pretty cheap.”

“Thank you, Yor. It may be – as you say – a mire... but I shall take any and every shelter in the storm.” Yor smiled and nodded, his hand flinching towards her before going back to rest at his side.

“...sorry, I don’t actually know what a proper parting gesture is to your people...? A handshake...? Something else...?” Amara just giggled at him, hugging him around the waist.

“We are a physical people. I would much rather prefer a hug over a handshake.”

“A-ah...” He cleared his throat and patted her head gently, silently hoping that wasn’t an insult. “W-well... thank you. I hope you sleep well, Oracle.”

“And I wish you a good night as well.” She released him from the hug and bowed, Yor raising a hand and walking away. With a broad smile and a feeling of satisfaction, Amara closed her eyes momentarily before taking a deep breath to settle herself. Turning and starting towards the Inn Yor had pointed her to, she felt herself run face-first into something or someone quite a bit taller than her. “Ngh-!” Amara was instantly surprised and knocked off her feet. Now, what she found strange about this whole thing was usually she had pretty good spacial awareness (thanks to several of her skills allowing her to sense when people and things were too close to her), but in this case, she didn’t sense anything. She just... turned and ran into someone. Stumbling to the cobblestone street, Amara wasted only a precious second before scrambling to her knees to bow apologetically, her forehead practically kissing the cobblestone. “I-!” She stammered out. “I am terribly sorry! I had not seen you there!” She blurted out loudly as she apologized to the figure. After a few seconds, she lifted her head enough to look up at the one she apologized to.

The woman she had run into was a bit on the shorter side – as far as humans go – being just a bit under five and a half feet tall with short-cut, jet-black hair and cold black eyes. She had a plain brown leather cloak slung about her shoulders and pulled around her front. She wore no weapon openly, but just looking at this woman told Amara she was no normal citizen. A magic caster, perhaps? Regardless, Amara dropped her gaze again as the woman sized Amara up. After a moment of awkward silence, the woman finally spoke. “...a demi-human...?” She grunted. Amara chanced another look to her, her hard gaze still fixated on the kneeling Linderlass. “...disgusting...” The woman turned curtly and walked away, sparing Amara not a single polite word. Well... regardless, she counted herself immensely lucky that being called ‘disgusting’ was the worst the woman had done to her. Getting to her feet as the woman walked away, she breathed a sigh of relief. Though... as the woman got farther away... curiosity overcame Amara.

“...to saite my curiosity...” She mused to herself as she triggered her Master’s Gaze skill. There, amongst a sea of gray and the occasional blue... was a pulsing purple aura which made Amara sick to her stomach. She put one hand to her stomach and the other over her mouth as she closed her eyes, dismissing her skill to allow her stomach to settle. This woman – whoever she was – was the single most powerful person she had met to date. She was even stronger than Amara, and that was impressive in itself. At first, she had a passing thought that maybe she was another player, like Amara. She had addressed Amara as a ‘Demi-Human’ which was the YGGDRASIL term for someone like her... but at the same time, the people of this world called her such as well... perhaps ‘Demi-Human’ is just a universal term.

Breathing in the clear evening air, Amara stuffed her discomfort and bile back into her stomach and continued towards the Coin and Coffer Inn for a room. She’d sleep, recharge, get something to eat... and then see about signing up at the Adventurer’s Guild in the morning. Crossing the street and paying the freakishly powerful woman no mind, she pushed her way into the Inn.

...Yor was right... this place was a cesspool. Several men were doubled over on tables, passed out drunk, while co*ckroaches and ants crawled along the floor about her feet. Lifting her feet and shaking her foot, she choked down her discomfort and disappointment at the state of the inn. It was a bed... she just had to keep telling herself that. She winded her way through the tables ladened with unconscious drunks and the half-dressed bar maids delivering drinks paid for in lewd stares as she approached the counter. Ugh, her geta were probably the cleanest thing in this whole place... as she approached the bar, she pulled herself up on one of the tall barstools and smiled gently at the buff, tattooed man on the other side of the bar. “Help you?” He grunted in a stale, powerful voice. Amara just smiled her best smile and asked her question.

“Yes. I was hoping you might have a room I could rent for the night?” The man looked at her for a solid minute.

“We do. We charge five copper a night.” Amara opened the small pouch Yor had given her to find a small handful of silver coins, about six in total. It didn’t look like much, but if common sense was at play here, a copper should be less than a silver. How much less was up for debate, however. Smiling and nodding, she pulled out one of the silver coins.

“I will take it for tonight. I apologize, I only have a silver coin.”

“Money’s money.” The man grunted, crouching down for a moment to fiddle beneath the counter, before coming up and putting his calloused, scarred hand palm-down on the table. “Here’s your change, let me get your key.” As he lifted his palm, she counted the eight smaller copper coins he had left over. If her math was right – and if he wasn’t screwing her – that meant a silver coin was worth about thirteen copper... which not going to lie? Kind of a screwy denomination, but she’d have to work with it. She picked up the coppers and slipped them back in her pouch in time for the man to return with a roughly forged iron key, like something a bougie rich family might have back in her world. “Here you are. Second floor, last door on the left. Be respectful to your neighbors, and I can promise you they’ll be respectful to you.” Amara smiled and nodded, taking the key.

“I will be the very picture of respect. Thank you very much.” She hopped off the stool as the bartender grunted a rough, light chuckle.

“Sure you will, lass.” She didn’t detect any sarcasm from his comment, so Amara decided to just take his words at face value. She ascended the stairs and followed the man’s instructions, going to the last room on the lefthand side of the hall. The key slipped into the lock without any issues, and it clunked loudly when she opened it, stepping in. She wasn’t expecting much... but even past that she had managed to get her hopes up. The room was little more than a bed (or a straw-filled box, anyway) in a corner with a small table and a single chair against the back wall. She had a view over the city, but past that, not much else. Setting her sword down on the bed, she sat to catch her breath. She reached up and pulled the Ribbon out of her hair and rolled it up to put it in the pocket of her robes.

Knock, knock. A light knock came to the door, drawing Amara’s attention to it. Quirking an eyebrow, she stood and went to the wooden door to open it. Standing on the other side of the door was a tall, attractive human woman with her dress open just a bit more than it probably should have been – one of the tavern barmaids, if she were a betting woman – who smiled at her through oddly clear emerald eyes. The girl smiled as she looked down at Amara. “Well... hello dear.” She balanced a tray in one hand, a big mug of some drink on it. “Might I interest you in a drink?”

“O-oh, no thank you, miss. I am afraid I cannot drink alcohol, it is against my faith.”

“Oh, I’m aware, dear... don’t worry, this isn’t alcohol.” She handed Amara the mug, a sweet scent of some honied drink wafting through her olfactory senses. Amara tried again to politely decline.

“O-oh, thank you but I... do not think I can afford something so luxurious...” The woman just laughed again.

“It’s on me, dear. May I come in?” Amara blinked, confused.

“...forgive my bluntness, but are you always this forward?” The woman giggled.

“Sorry... sorry dear... sometimes I forget you can’t possibly know every single one of us...” She folded the now-empty tray at her waist and bowed formally. “My birth name is Jessyca Fields... but I also go by Butai Akemi-”

“Ah! You are a Butai! I apologize, I did not recognize you! Please, come in!” The woman – Akemi, Jessyca, whatever Amara wanted to call her – only laughed a bit and obliged, stepping in and closing the door.

“I apologize for the fright, dear...” She tied up the laces on the front of her dress to keep her distractingly large breasts contained. “...but when I see an Oracle walk into my bar, I just have to know her story...”

“Ah... yes, that makes sense.” Amara took a seat on the bed as Akemi sat on the chair; Amara telling the Butai her story. As her vivid description of the Raven Death set in, the smile on Akemi’s face faded.

“You weave a terrible tale...” Akemi mused. “Akalli Village was kind to me, when my village was burned during the Annual Wars... I wandered for days in the forest before the Oracle – your predecessor – found me on death’s doorstep. I was just a young girl at the time... but Baharuth and Re-Estize both decided that I was an ‘acceptable casualty’. I hold no ill-will towards them, but in the same regard I owe neither of them anything. But your people I owe a great debt to. If you truly wish to save your village, your best course of action would be to seek strong adventurers and bring them together.”

“I had the passing thought myself.” Amara admitted. “I had planned on going to the Adventurer’s Guild in the morning to enlist. It is my hope that I can attract the attention of the strong, and enlist them in my cause.”

“A wise course of action. However, I know you are yet ignorant to many things outside the village... would you wish for me to help you? I can teach you many things... about money, and the rules this world follows.” Amara sighed and nodded happily.

“That would be immensely helpful, yes... I would welcome a lesson.”

“A wise decision, Oracle. I will teach you about money tonight, and return every night to teach you a new lesson. I will also help you pay for this room, if you wish.”

“Thank you, Butai... you are too kind.”

“Please. I owe my life to you and your people... I will always live my life in service to Linder, and His people.”

Chapter 4: An Easy Start

Chapter Text

Amara spent the next two days getting caught up with everything she might need to survive – how money worked, the state of the Kingdom and the surrounding area, as well as a few rumors that had begun to circulate. She had thought that joining the Adventurer’s Guild would be her best bet to finding associates to help her with the Raven Death, and Akemi’s lessons had only reinforced the thought. If she wanted help, she’d have to ingratiate herself in the Adventurer community and make friends... and the best way to do that was to prove to be useful; and she could think of no better group to start with than Eclipse. She had already proven that she wasn’t some useless little girl who would just bring them down, so it was only a matter of signing herself up and getting up to Iron so she could join them.

The third day she was in E-Rantel, she walked up to the Adventurer’s Guild with the intent to sign her name on the dotted line and begin her career. The Adventurer’s Guild itself was a fairly large building; a ground-floor that looked like a tavern mixed with a gathering hall, several large billboards on either side of the room with dozens of pieces of paper pinned to them. Groups of men and women – infrequently mixed – crowded around the billboards as they looked at their options. Well... there didn’t seem to be any shortage of jobs on offer, at least. A few of the groups of adventurers who were seated at the tables around the center of the hall spared precious little glances at her – sizing her up like as not – before turning their attention back to their drinks. She wasn’t surprised most couldn’t see her for what she truly was... she was not even five feet tall and looked like a weak little thing that could barely hold her liquor, much less hold her own in a fight. She didn’t judge them for dismissing her by sight alone.

Most of those assembled in the halls wore either copper, iron or silver plates about their necks. There was a small handful – two people – with gold plates, but nothing higher than that. She guessed that once you surpass Gold, the jobs tended to come to you, not the other way around. She made her way through the tables and towards the long counter that dominated the back wall, a handful of young women darting back and forth behind the counter (one near the far end manning the bar section of the room) as they sorted out their jobs. One – near the center – was hunched over the counter, her brown hair cascading down her face as she wrote upon a sheet of parchment. Amara advanced upon the younger brown-haired woman and stopped before her, folding her hands at her waist and waiting. After a moment, the woman flicked her head up in that way that says she noticed something that wasn’t there before, before quickly looking up and offering Amara a weak smile. “Good morning. Can I help you?”

“Yes... I was hoping I might ask you as to the procedure to be registered as an Adventurer?” The girl paused, looking Amara over, noting the fox ears on her head and the fluffy tail sweeping behind her.

“You’re a Demi-Human.” She more observed than questioned, Amara nodding.

“I am Linderfolk, yes.” The woman just shrugged.

“Right, Demi-Human.” She turned back to her writing. “I’d be more than willing to process your registration, but there are a few things I have to inform you of first.”

“Okay.” Amara nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“First... there is a registration fee of five silvers.” The smile on Amara’s face flickered. “This fee is reimbursed upon your promotion to Iron. This money is used in the event your bravado gets you killed... it’s to pay for burial.” Okay that... made sense.

“I understand.” The woman nodded and continued.

“Second, the fee is to be paid prior to your first assignment. Your first assignment is assigned by the guild and is a test to see if you are capable of both the hazards of the job, and of following instructions.” Amara just nodded, motioning her to continue. “And finally, third, the Guild is not responsible for finding or assigning you a party. Each of our Adventurer Parties are independent organizations and not under the direct control of the Guild. If you are unable to find someone willing to take you in, or another like-minded Adventurer willing to form a new party with you, that’s on you and is not the responsibility of the Guild. We exist to guide and handle payment, not babysit disputes.” She drew in a breath, and Amara got the idea that it was a tired, well-practiced speech she had given a hundred times in her life. “Is that understood?”

“Perfectly, thank you.” The woman nodded.

“That’s good. All copper-level jobs are mostly able to be handled alone, but if you are promoted to Iron, it is advised to seek a party before continuing to work... you’ll be doing everyone here a favor if you do.” The woman – without stopping – pulled out a second piece of parchment from under the counter and placed it in front of Amara. “Please take this application – you're capable of reading and writing, correct?” Amara took the paper and frowned.

“A-ah... I can read and write... however, I seem to be ignorant of your language...” The woman looked up at her and blinked.

“You speak it just fine.” She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone. Amara smiled sheepishly.

“I come from an isolated village... our writing may have developed differently from your own.” The woman gave a huff, and shook her head.

“Literacy is required for admission into the Adventurer’s Guild... if you can’t read and write the language, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to join-”

“Ah-” Amara thought for a moment. She supposed she could just translate anything needed – provided doing so wouldn’t draw too much attention – so as Amara did best, she bullsh*tted. “Actually... I do have a loose acquaintance in the city – a friend, if you will – who has offered to help teach me to read and write... I did not take her up on the offer at first, as I did not think it would have been necessary...” The woman squinted her eyes and studied Amara for a moment before nodding and sighing again.

“Alright... I suppose I could put off your literacy test for a few days... but I will still require you to take it before you can begin any official work.” Amara nodded in agreement to this, the woman continuing. “If you give me a few minutes, I’ll walk you through the process. Technically, you’re required to be able to read and write in order to join... If you could take the application and have a seat wherever, I’ll be with you when I get a moment.” She seemed to be excessively over-worked and stressed. Amara bowed politely to the stressed and over-worked woman, taking the parchment to a nearby empty table. After another few moments, the woman stood and cracked her back with a pained grunt. More than just stressed, but in pain as well. Twisting her torso a few times to further loosen her muscles, she took the inkwell and quill from the desk and walked around the counter to the table Amara had found. “Hoookay...” She huffed, sitting down with a relieved sight. “...let’s begin, shall we?” Amara could tell by her posture she was in pain.

“You seem to be in a great deal of discomfort.” Amara observed, the woman chuckling to herself.

“Yeah, that’s putting it lightly... we’ve been all-go-no-stop for the past three weeks, and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since a week before then...” She shook her head. “...we’re not here to discuss me. Now... starting at the top, could I get your name, please?”

“Amara Akusa.” Amara spoke simply, convinced she neither knew nor particularly cared about what an Oracle was. The woman wrote in elegant – if foreign – script on the paper, the quill’s tip scratching gently against the paper. She nodded once she had finished.

“Age, race and gender?” She paused, rolling her neck.

“Twenty three, Linderfolk, and female.” She chuffed a little as she noted all this down on the form.

“You’re a bit younger than most who come through here...” She continued to roll her neck as she wrote. “And your specialty?” Amara paused for a moment, deep in thought.

“I take it you are asking if I am a warrior, or magic caster?”

Chapter 5: Healthcare Problems

Chapter Text

Amara had taken four days to begin her tutelage of the local script. It was a fairly simple language – a twenty-six character language reminiscent of her native English – and after looking at the runes (for lack of better terms) she began to see similarities between this language and English. Of course, she would still supplement her natural understanding of the language with her Comprehend Language spell (with a generous helping from her Silent Casting talent from Ninja) to see her through the literacy test. She would work with Akemi in the day (before the bars really opened up) to learn the written language and practice writing, and then would use the afternoon and nights to do what work she could for the Guild. They still – of course – had her on scutwork (cleaning windows, picking up garbage from the streets, keeping the area immediately outside the walls clear of unwanted foliage to maintain clear lines of sight) which paid her a halfway decent amount of money... well, enough to keep her fed and her rent paid. That sh*tty room in the Coin and Coffer may have been a tenth of a star at best... but it kept her off the streets, so she was happy.

At the end of the fourth day, Amara believed she had learned enough to pass the Literacy Exam and become a full member of the Adventurer’s Guild. Delilah was all too happy to help her through, but made sure she understood that the Oracle was getting no more preferential treatment. This didn’t bother Amara... she didn’t like people treating her differently for no reason anyway, so she would have preferred to pass this exam with her own skills. Note how she didn’t say ‘legitimately’. She was still going to cheat... but she would at least cheat with her own abilities, and not with outside help. The test comprised of two parts – the first was transcribing a passage Delilah dictated to her. Punctuation wasn’t as important as spelling and proper lettering, and with a little help from Comprehend Language, Amara had managed to transcribe the passage in record time, her lettering neat and orderly (unlike how it used to be before her life in this new world). After handing the passage to Delilah, she was given the second part of the test. A book was placed in front of her, and she was instructed to read it out loud.

“...and in the end, the Five became Six and the Old Gods were banished to the deepest part of the earth to sleep forevermore. The heavens sighed in relief as the last of their destructive tendencies were laid to rest within the bosom of the earth-” Amara read aloud, Delilah watching her intently.

“Thank you, I think that’s enough.” Amara smiled and closed the book, placing it gently on the table before her. “You weren’t kidding about being a quick learner...”

“Thank you... but it had more to do with my teacher. She was very patient with me.” And magic. No small amount of magic, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Delilah took the book from before Amara and held it to her chest.

“Regardless to the reason, you’ve fulfilled both aspects of the Literacy Test, so there’s nothing stopping me from making you a full-fledged member of the Adventurer’s Guild. Once I fill out the necessary paperwork, you’ll be able to take on all copper-ranked jobs, regardless of their details. Keep in mind, most copper-ranked jobs are still going to be more or less scutwork... but clearing out wild animals, collecting ingredients in the forests and patrolling the walls outside of town is a far bit more lucrative work than weeding a garden.”

“But no less enriching of the soul.” Amara pined gently, Delilah laughing gently at her joke.

“Perhaps... you’re free to browse the job board for any copper-ranked jobs that might pique your interest. Bring them to either myself or one of the other clerks and we’ll get you started.”

“Thank you for everything, Delilah. You have been ever so helpful.” Standing, Amara collected herself and went to the job board Delilah mentioned, the clerk heading back behind the counter. Amara began to look over the mass of notices pinned to the board. She had been able to see everything more or less fine when she was just focusing on her letters, or just focusing on reading a single source of lettering... but here? With a hundred different notices, some wholly overlapping others, it became difficult to separate the individual requests; each notice muddling into one huge glob of letters she could no sooner translate than understand. Placing a hand on the board – making it look as though she was merely steadying herself – she mouthed two quick words as she cast a spell silently.

‘Comprehend Languages’ she mouthed, a blue flash pulsing over her eyes as the glob of unintelligible words shifted and morphed into English for her viewing pleasure. There... that was so much better. With a light smile on her face, she began to sift through the copper-ranked jobs. Most of them were more of the same... go out and get me x of this ingredient, hunt y of z monster, escort v merchant to w location... Delilah was right. Most of this was still scutwork... but considering the lowest job posted here had a reward of a silver and some change, it was clearly a huge step up. Shuffling about the notices, she came to one that looked simple enough. ‘Gather herbs for local apothecary’. That couldn’t have been too difficult... plus, she might be able to use this opportunity to see if she could learn a thing or two. In YGGDRASIL, she had never taken any crafter or gatherer classes, and had spent all one hundred of her levels to build her excessively niche character... but did that mean that her growth stopped? Did she plateau in this world before even having a chance to live? She meant to find out. If she could learn something from this apothecary (provided they were willing to share) she might be able to test that theory.

During one of her nights before bed, she had bought a cheap little hip satchel for carrying around her money and what few belongings she had. After biting the proverbial bullet and finally deciding to sift through the millions (not really, closer to fifteen) Infinite Haversacks in her Item Box, she ran across the fact that a good four of them were Greater Healing Potions. They wouldn’t stitch together all her wounds (in YGGDRASIL, at least) but it could be enough to mean the difference between life and death. So, she stuffed a few – about three – into her hip satchel to keep on hand for emergencies. Though, having said that, she knew those potions were finite, and she didn’t know how much they would run her (or whatever the equivalent was); so her ultimate goal was to find a way to create more. Now... that’s not saying she didn’t know the recipe. She knew as a fact – thanks to the Crimson Crusader’s resident Alchemist, a Witch named Minerva Godsblood – that the recipe for a Greater Healing Potion was four portions of Curegrass and one portion of Holy Water (along with what she called the ‘Good Stuff’, a special solution that only Alchemists could make) and a single coin from YGGDRASIL. Amara had made a good bit of gold selling Holy Water to Minerva by the gallon, on account that she was one of only three ‘holy’ archetype characters in the Guild who could purify Holy Water. She knew the recipe, but she didn’t know how to actually brew the potion (on account of having exactly zero levels in Alchemist). If she could learn the procedure here... she might be able to replicate it.

Pulling the notice off the board, she walked over to Delilah, who was just starting on another stack of paperwork. Looking up after a second, Delilah smiled. “Find something to your liking?”

“Yes, actually... I would like to help your local alchemists.”

“And help they need desperately. This one’s a request for Mugwort, an uncommon herb used in potion making. Are you familiar with Mugwort?” YGGDRASIL had Mugwort, but she decided to play it safe.

“No, I am afraid I am not.” Delilah just smiled and nodded, pulling the large, leather-bound book off to her left towards and in front of her.

“That’s okay... few people are.” She opened the book and began to flip through pages. “...really, only alchemists memorize names and descriptions of ingredients, so this kind of thing is quite common.” She finally stopped flipping pages and turned the book around to Amara. The book was a catalogue of some kind, showing a charcoal sketch of a plant, the name ‘Mugwort’ scribbled above it. The plant itself had a drooping stem and five long, broad, oval-shaped leaves coming off the stem, and a single cerulean bud at the base of the stem. Amara was surprised exactly how much like Cureweed it looked like.

“Oh!” Amara smiled. “I am familiar with it, though by another name. My people call it Cureweed. It grows in abundance near my village.” Delilah smiled and closed the book gently.

“Well, that’s good to know. The request only specifies five bundles of Mugwort is needed, but they will pay extra for any and all you can bring them.” She turned and went to the back, leafing through a box behind her to find a specific paper. “Your client is a... Lizzie Bareare; E-Rantel's most skilled alchemist. She and her grandson run the largest pharmacy in the city...” She placed the paper on the table in front of Amara. It was a map of the city with a circle in the south-western quadrant. “We’re here.” Delilah mused, pointing to the circle on the map. “If you follow this road east-” She traced the road east that ran past the Adventurer’s Guild on the south. “-for about forty minutes, you should see her shop on the lefthand side of the road.”

“Should I introduce myself before leaving to find her Mugwort?”

“She likes to meet every adventurer she works with, so I would say yes. Once you’ve collected her Mugwort, bring it to her and she’ll handle your reward. Usually we would handle this kind of thing, but Lizzie’s one of our more prominent customers. She knows her herbs, so she’s better suited to buy that sort of thing than any guild rep would. She’s also the best person to tell you where you can easily find Mugwort.”

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you.” With a bow and a deep breath, Amara set off on her first official request with the Adventurer’s Guild. She followed the road the Guild Rep pointed out to her, walking east along the cobblestone path for thirty four mintues before she came to a store that looked distinctly like an alchemist’s, the large herb-like flower on the sign with the word ‘ALCHEMIST’ carved under it being a dead giveaway. Pushing the door open, a small bell above it tingled gently, alerting the shopkeep to the presence of a new customer.

“Be there in a moment, dear!” She heard an elderly voice call out from the back of the store. With a nod, Amara amused herself by looking at all the potions on the shelves. Though... the more she looked at them... the stranger they looked. Most were in small, unadorned glass phials (nothing new there) with a crystal stopper... they kind of looked like little crystal whiskey decanters, if she was being honest. While the bottles were of different sizes and shapes, every single one contained a thin, watery liquid with a deep, almost putrid blue color. Amara scrunched up her nose at the strange coloration of the potions on display... They were all labeled of course; the phials with wide necks and narrow bases were labeled as 'Antidote’, while the more elongated diamond shaped phials were labeled as ‘Healing’. There were ones with circular bases and long, thin necks which were labeled as ‘Purge’ and one that looked like a testtube labeled as ‘Settling’.

Amara reached out and gently lifted one of the potions from the rack and looked it over. It was one labeled as ‘Healing’, and she couldn’t help but just... disbelieve that this potion was a healing potion. It had the same blue hue as the others potions, and was priced rather steeply. “...Linder...” Amara mused as her eyes saw the one gold and ten silver price tag to go with it. Gently placing it back, she turned away from the potions to the counter, just about the time the curtain leading to the back was pushed aside to allow an elderly lady – her hair tied up in a hankerchief and a stained smock cinched tightly about her waist. As her wizened blue eyes turned up to see Amara, she smiled.

“Well... hello dear. I don’t get many Linderfolk in the city, much less my store.” Amara smiled brightly, pleased to see someone who knew of her people.

“I am delighted that you know of us, ma’am.” Amara bowed to her, the older woman chuckling as she waved it away.

“Please, dear... I’m a hard working woman... not one of those dainty noblewomen. I’m Elizabeth Bareare, but you can just call me Lizzie; I run this place with my grandson.”

“Amara Akusa, Oracle to the people of my village.” Amara introduced herself with a bow.

“And an Oracle at that? I must be very lucky indeed. Tell me, Oracle-” Amara waved that away.

“If you wish for me to dispense with formalities, I will ask the same of you. I wear the title as only a shade of its former glory. I would ask you address me as Amara.” Lizzie chuffed happily.

“Ah, your people always were polite.” She nodded. “Amara, then. What can I do for you today, Amara?”

“I am actually here on Adventurer’s Guild business?” She touched two fingers to the copper plate at her neck. “I was informed you had requested aid in collecting Mugwort.”

“Ah! Yes, of course! Usually I’d send my grandson out for it, but he’s currently preoccupied with the collection of Arnica Grass out in the Forest of Tob with one of your peers. Now, it goes without saying, I’m far too old to be galivanting about in search of herbs... not to mention to be bending and plucking them. I’d ask you to bring me at least five bunches of Mugwort, but if you can find more, I’ll buy whatever you bring me.”

“Has Mugwort become difficult to find?”

“Frustratingly, yes. When I was a young girl, it used to be quite common in the area, but it has declined in recent years due to over-harvesting... and the Annual Wars trampling whole patches of the stuff.”

“Have you considered growing your own?” Amara tilted her head curiously, Lizzie nodding.

“Yes... unfortunately something about cultivated herbs makes them less potent in potion making than their wild brothers... I couldn’t tell you why that is.” Amara blinked at this. Back in YGGDRASIL, guilds used to have entire areas of their base dedicated to farming and growing plants for a menagerie of reasons. The Crimson Crusaders had an entire garden dedicated to Cureweed, on account of how many healing potions their members went though... a number you’d understand would be considerably higher than normal, once you learned that a favorite past time of the Crusaders was throwing the damn things at Undead like grenades. Healing potions in YGGDRASIL had the opposite effect on undead, harming them instead of healing them. One of her guildmates – a human Ninja who went by the name ‘Toss Boss’ - patented the technique which he called the Anti-Undead Suppression Formation. On the flip side, vials of poison or potions of harming could be used by undead to heal, though the practice was almost unheard of.

“Strange...” Amara mused, stroking her chin deep in thought.

“I know it sounds counter-productive – claim that over-harvesting has made Mugwort rare, and then greedily saying I’ll buy up whatever you bring me – but Mugwort is needed in some of our higher-volume potions, like the Purge Potion.” Lizzie blinked, looking at Amara. “Oracle... your people are said to be excellent alchemists, is this true?”

“Well... I am never one to brag, but we have survived a great many centuries on our own. Our forest homes have provided a great many things to aid in that survival... so in that sense, then yes, I suppose we are.”

“Have you ever seen a healing potion that was red in color?” Amara chose her words carefully. Her knee-jerk reaction was to say ‘of course!’, as YGGDRASIL potions were a bright crimson color – the color of fresh blood – and contained in ornate, beautiful phials. However, the presence of the undecorated phails just off to her left – their sickly blue liquid swirling disgustingly at her – told her that that was common for the people here, not the red of YGGDRASIL potions. Each potion was distinguished not by the color of the contents or the filligree of the bottle... but by the bottle’s shape.

“I have heard of such things, yes.” She nodded gently. “Our village’s herbalist has been known to brew them on occasion, when Linder is kind to her.” Her thoughts turned back to the potions in her satchel and Item Box. Was a red-colored potion so unique and novel here?

“Is that so...?” Lizzie mused, smiling. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to share your secret?” Amara wouldn’t know the first practical thing about potion brewing herself, and honestly that was a bullsh*t excuse she gave Lizzie to begin with. They had no herbalist (as far as Amara knew, anyway) and definitely no way to brew potions. Lies, compounding on lies. Amara bowed politely as she delivered her answer.

“I apologize... but it is not my secret to share.” Yeah, that sounded like a sufficient mix of ‘f*ck if I know’ and ‘buzz off’ without coming off as either. Regardless, Lizzie seemed as though she expected the answer.

“I should have suspected as much... sorry to bother you with my worries, Amara.” She tapped the counter and stood fully. “You didn’t come here to listen to me prattle. Your best bet for finding Mugwort is a grove in the small forest to the north east of the city. It should be safe enough – maybe a wolf or two – but it shouldn’t have any issues you can’t handle.”

“Thank you. I shall return as quickly as I can with your ingredients.” She bowed again, this time as a parting. With a wave, Lizzie watched Amara leave.

Once Amara had closed the door behind her and was on the streets, she allowed her mind to process what she had seen. So... potions in this world were a disgusting blue color, huh? Honestly though, full disclosure? Drinking something the color of blood wasn’t any more pleasant... but at least it was something she was used to. Ugh... oh, Linder, what did those blue potions taste like? She imagined a mix between blue raspberry and blueberry which... honestly did not help her mindset at all. “Blegh...” She dry-heaved at the thought of drinking something that was a cross between a cheap jelly bean and those disgusting five-hour energy shots she had to chug at work... just thinking about them made her want to puke. “...gotta get my mind off that...” She muttered to herself, placing two fingers to her lips in an effort to stop her stomach from usurping her willpower, and expelling her last meal back into the material plane.

Amara took herself out of the city through the eastern gate and began to head towards the forest, which she could see from here. If her internal map was working (which it was) this was the same forest that she had exited almost a week ago, though far to the north of her village. She decided to focus on her task. Five bundles are what was required of her, but Lizzie said she’d buy as many as she could bring back. She focused on finding as much Mugwort as she could, walking the hour and a half to the forest. It was just after midday when she stepped back into the forest, the rays of the sun casting through the canopies and between the leaves to illuminate her path. As she walked, the Druid part of her helped point out random sprigs of Mugwort hiding among the underbrush. Apparently, Mugwort was parasitic and liked to hide in bushes and such.

“...a lot of herbalists were Druids...” Amara mused to herself, remembering a random fact from YGGDRASIL. Many of the game’s herbalists also had at least five levels in Druid to gain access to their Nature Mastery passive, which allowed them to see herbal nodes from a distance of thirty feet. In the same vein, a lot of Alchemists also had at least seven levels in Witch, due to their focus on potions and concoctions. Even though Amara was no Herbalist, she was still able to spot them without so much of a hint of trouble.

The farther Amara walked into the forest, the more Mugwort she spotted... Linder be good, there was a hell of a lot of Mugwort out here. Most was hidden among bushes and undergrowth, meaning only the most perceptive of people would be able to see the majority of the collection. She spent the better part of six hours collecting Mugwort for Lizzie, and when everything was said and done, she must have collected somewhere around three hundred sprigs of the stuff. She didn’t feel like drawing unnecessary attention to herself, however, so she decided not to bring it all back to Lizzie. Making sure there was no one around, she opened up her item box and fished out one of her empty Infinite Haversacks (she had consolidated a few that had some random items in them) and filled it up with the majority of her haul. If Mugwort really was Cureweed... and she remembered what Minerva had done to produce the potions... she might be able to recreate Greater Healing Potions. Regardless, it would give her something to occupy her downtime... provided she could find the tools to make them.

After hiding most of her haul, she began the trek back to E-Rantel and Lizzie’s store. It was another hour and a half before she returned back to the city, so night had already embraced the world. She decided she’d try one time to see if Lizzie was still open – or around her store at least – before returning to the Inn and coming back tomorrow. Upon reaching Lizzie’s pharmacy, she knocked gently on the door. “I apologize about the late call... are you still awake, Lizzie?” She heard the door’s lock rattle open as the door was pulled free, Lizzie’s wizened but relieved face appearing before her.

“Amara... you are up awfully late... I thought you would have gone back to the inn...” Amara just smiled and took the colletion of Mugwort from her Obi, handing it to Lizzie.

“My apologies, it took me significantly longer than I would have liked to find your herbs.”

“Oh... tell me you weren’t out there at this time of night?”

“Of course. I could hardly leave you in a lurch with your business.” Lizzie scoffed at Amara’s comment, taking the bouquet of herbs from her.

“Your safety should be paramount, dear...” Lizzie mumbled, looking over the herbs. “...but you’re safe, that’s all that matters. You’ve collected a good amount, thank you...” She had decided to store the majority of the two-to-three hundred sprigs she had collected and only return with a dozen. She felt this would draw the right amount of the right kind of attention her way. “...my so much...!” She smiled. “Come in, dear. Nfirea won’t be back tonight, and I simply must thank you for your hard work.”

“I will stay for a time; I would hate to infringe upon your much needed sleep.”

“Hah.” Lizzie chuffed happily as Amara stepped into her shop. “I may be an old bag, but I’m still full of energy!”

“And one cannot keep up that vitality without proper sleep.” Amara told her in her own way she wasn’t calling her old.

“Hah!” Lizzie chuffed again, with a much stronger tone. “You’re a sly one, Amara... I like you...” She led Amara back into the house portion of her shop – a little workshop for producing potions and a bed to rest on, along with a table near the center. “Have a seat, can I get you some tea?”

“Tea sounds lovely, Lizzie. Thank you.” Amara took a seat at the table and watching Lizzie make some tea on a bunson burner. It was definitely strange... but the older woman’s ingenuity amused Amara. “Might I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course, dear. What’s on your mind?”

“...it is about your potions. I have seen precious few in my life – only a small handful – but they had never been that color...”

“Yes, I can see how that might confuse. Legends say that long ago... healing potions used to be made from the blood of gods. Of course, as far back as anyone can remember, they’ve always been that blue color...” She smiled as she prepared two cups. “It’s lead to many speculating that the gods must have blue blood. It’s the preservation magic, you see... that’s what gives the potions their color.”

“Preservation magic?” Definitely nothing Amara’s heard about.

“Yes... without it, potions degrade within a few hours of brewing. The magic keeps them from decaying too quickly. Shelf life goes from a few hours to several months.” YGGDRASIL potions didn’t decay... hell, nothing in YGGDRASIL did. Even food could be kept in your inventory for months at a time and it would never rot or spoil. In a way, this made sense... in the real world, everything broke down over time, even Amara’s geta were starting to show wear from the amount she’s been walking of late... but still? A shelf life of only a few hours?

“And this short shelf life is universal to all potions?” Amara asked, Lizzie nodding.

“Mm-hm. At least to all the potions we’ve been able to make. Without preservation magic, all potions break down into a poisonous slurry within a few hours.” Amara thought for a moment, her gaze casting around the room. The small worktable where her alembic and mortar were set up looked as though it could be easily portable.

“Lizzie... might I ask you a rather odd question?”

“Of course dear...” She pulled the kettle off the burner and filled the two cups.

“How would I go about getting the tools needed to brew potions?” Lizzie paused, looking back at her.

“...I take it since you expressed confusion that you do not know preservation magic?”

“No,” Amara shook her head. “I do not.”

“So you understand that everything you make will have an almost unusable shelf life.” Again, Amara nodded.

“I will admit to being cursed with a great curiosity. These things you speak of – preservation magic, potions breaking down over the course of hours – they are foreign to me. I have never know it to be a thing, so I am curious if it is a problem that can be circumvented or negated. I will admit to knowing the... very basic idea of potion making, but lack experience and the tools.” Lizzie set one cup in front of Amara, tea steeper diffusing the tea into the liquid.

“If it were anyone else, I would simply turn you down, saying I would not want to risk my business to a competitor...” Amara nodded gently at this, understanding completely where she was coming from. “...but I don’t think you’d be interested in taking my business...”

“I simply wish to know the why of it. And if I can find a way around it, I promise that you will be the first – and only – person to know.”

“...so I stand to benefit...” Amara nodded to this, sipping her tea. “Alright, Amara. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll be willing to sell you an alembic and a mortar and pestle for your experiments... in exchange for your results.”

“This is acceptable.” Amara nodded.

“I was going to pay you six silver for the mugwort... but that’s about what I’d agree to part with a spare set of tools for... so what do you say to a trade? I keep my money, and you get the tools?”

“This is also acceptable. You are too kind.”

“I’ll even throw in the recipe for a healing potion, too. Consider it a show of good faith.”

“You are too kind, Lizzie.” She smiled, looking at her tea cup. “And might I say... for such an unorthodox method of making tea... this is quite delicious.” Lizzie laughed at that.

“Not that unorthodox. Fire is fire.” She smiled. “But I’m glad it’s to your liking.” Amara spent the next hour talking at length with Lizzie, learning about her and her business, how adventurers were always in need of medicine. She also learned a great deal more about potions themselves... such as how healing potions here didn’t work like the used to YGGDRASIL. In YGGDRASIL, when you used a potion, it would take effect immediately and restore the amount of health listed on the tooltip (usually a set number of hit points or a percentage of your health, whichever was lowest); whereas here they acted more as topical salves; stimulating the body’s natural healing process to increase the rate at which a person naturally recovers from injury. Well... that certainly explained one reason Eclipse didn’t have any... they wouldn’t have been any good.

As Amara left that evening – a small crate with her alchemy tools in it – she began to plan. She had two immediate goals in mind when she traded for these tools. The first, was to see if she was able to learn any new skills. She had never taken a crafting class in the game, so she would never be able to make anything... but did that transfer over here? She had already discovered a few similarities between this world and YGGDRASIL; but on the flip side, she had also discovered her share of differences as well. Had she peaked? Or was she only starting to poke at the extent of her skill? And the second reason was more scientific. Amara had never taken ‘it just is’ as reason for anything. She liked knowing why something happened... it had gotten her in trouble more than once as a kid, but it served to sate her scientific hunger. She wanted to know why health potions looked so... strange here. Why they degraded, why they were so... for lack of a better word, sh*tty.

Chapter 6: The Final Eclipse

Chapter Text

She couldn’t say she didn’t miss that month she spent living in what equated to the lap of luxury upon her first arrival in this world. Being seen as – and treated as – the most important woman in the world to the people of her small village was definitely something she enjoyed... but at the same time, Past Life Amara couldn’t stand idly by and just soak up attention like that. She was never good at just lounging around and doing nothing – it was the whole reason she started playing YGGDRASIL in the first place – so getting back in the proverbial saddle with work for the Adventurer’s Guild was a nice change of pace, and it helped her get back into the swing of how things worked; those things being mainly ‘money makes the world go around’.

She spent the next week after her official initiation doing odd jobs around E-Rantel. Nothing too big; she spent one day patrolling the roads outside the city to keep them clear of wild beasts and bandits (that was an uneventful day) and she spent another running random errands for people around E-Rantel. Hell, one day even saw her clearing a woman’s cellar of rats (the big ones, not the run of the mill ones) that netted her a pretty silver coin for what equated to a few quick motions with her sword and tossing the corpses into a compost bin for fertilizer. She didn’t mind these easy money jobs... in fact, she kind of enjoyed it. A lot of her clients were surprised when their requests were handled by a Demi-Human, and more than one expressed surprise that she was not only quite skilled, but humble and respectful too.

“Good morning, Amara!” Delilah had greeted her on her eighth day as an Adventurer, Amara returning her greeting with a polite wave and a smile. “You’ve been making quite an impression on the people of E-Rantel. Everyone you’ve helped has been very vocal in their praises. Old Ms. Adlburn couldn’t stop singing your praises after taking care of those rats in her basem*nt.”

“That was very kind of her.” Amara bowed a little at the praise. “She was a very sweet lady, and I hope her flowers prosper from the gift those rats gave her fertilizer.”

“I’m sure they will.” Delilah nodded, picking up a piece of paper from her counter. “Unless you’ve got other plans... your assistance has been requested.” Amara blinked at that, stepping forward and opening her hand for Delilah to put the paper in. “A group of Iron-Ranked adventurers have requested your assistance with one of their missions...” Amara read over the paper, the request a pretty standard culling quest for goblins to the south. “Why a group of Irons would be asking the help of a Copper is beside me... but they assured me you were capable...”

“...who is the client?”

“One of our Iron-Ranks, Eclipse-”

“Ah!” Amara smiled, everything suddenly making sense. “Yor and his group, yes, I know them.” Delilah seemed relieved at Amara’s reaction. She had been concerned it was a hazing, but the smile Amara bore told her she had good things to say about Eclipse. “I actually lent them a hand before. I ran into them on the road on the way here, you see.”

“Ah, that explains it. They asked for your help because Yor assured me you’d be useful in their endeavor... in exchange, they’ve agreed to mentor you and bring you up to Iron with them... though to be honest, I fail to see how that’s a thing... if they’re asking your help, you’re clearly at least as strong as they are as is, but...” She paused, and shook her head smiling. “...it doesn’t matter. They’ve been assigned to take out a small camp of goblins near the border with Baharuth. Along with the goblins, we’d like for you to keep your eyes open for ‘outside interference’.” Amara lowered her voice and nodded.

“You worry Baharuth may be instigating these goblin raids?”

“It’s a possibility. There’s already been rumors that Slane tried to destroy Carne Village not too long ago. I can’t speak to how true that rumor is, but let’s just say we’re not like to take any chances. Just be careful and wary.”

“Certainly. I appreciate the warning.” Delilah nodded.

“Of course. Yor and his group have a room at the Bruntspar Inn – it's a bit of a walk from here...” She retrieved the map from the back counter and spread it out, poking the red circle. “As you know, we’re here-” Amara nodded to this, Delilah moving her finger north up the road, then west. “The Bruntspar is here, about five blocks away; shouldn’t be more than a twenty minute walk. Their room is on the third floor, room eight. You’re alright to just walk on up and knock. Yor and Gideon said they were going to be shopping to replenish supplies, so Gil and Renn should be available to receive you.”

“Thank you, I will go meet them shortly. Might I ask a question of you first, however?” Delilah nodded and smiled to her, rolling the map back up.

“Of course! What’s on your mind?”

“When I was with Yor and his friends before, they mentioned that the Adventurer’s Guild frowns upon parties of mixed genders... is there a reason behind this?” Amara had heard Eclipse’s explanation for this, but she wanted the Guild’s official stance.

“Well... first, I’d like to specify it’s not against Guild regulations. There are a few parties we have that are of mixed genders – Transcendent, Fortitude, Orion’s Belt, Darkness – so we do allow it... however we discourage it due to safety reasons. Adventurer Parties are a close, tight-knit group. They often spend months at a time with little contact outside of their own members, and are frequently required to spend extended time away from the city. Mixed-gendered parties could – emphasis could – lead to a conflict of interest within the party dynamics. Sometimes tough decisions must be made in regards to a party’s survival. We have had instances as well where a woman was asked to join an all-male party, and each member fell in love with her in their own right... the party tore itself apart over who would earn her affections. In the end, she left and the group dissolved, unable to reconcile their differences.” Amara nodded.

“In the case of these instances, the party’s progress is monitored closer than parties comprised of a single gender. Their advancement is slowed to allow them to adapt to the risks and the changes. Now, there are exceptions to this rule... for example in the case of Transcendent, their lone female member is sapphic, so she’s not interested in men. In the case of Orion’s Belt, their lone female member happens to be the younger sister of the two male members-”

“So there can be no romantic feelings.” Amara expanded, Delilah nodding.

“Exactly. Yor and his group understand these restrictions, and if you both agree that you’d like to join Eclipse, you will be subjected to the same scrutinies.” Amara nodded politely to her.

“I understand.” It also helped that Amara herself was a lesbian – what they called ‘sapphic’ here, she guessed – so there would be no relationship problems on her end... and she’s certain a simple explanation will stop any of them from getting bright ideas either. “Thank you for your time, Delilah, it had been a question that had been bothering me for some time.”

“Of course! Always happy to help you out. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, I think that will be all, thank you. I will speak with Yor and his party.” Delilah nodded and lifted her hand in a polite wave.

“Be safe, Amara. I’ll see you when you get back.” Amara bowed politely to Delilah and bade her farewell for the time being. Leaving the Adventurer’s Guild, she turned north for two blocks, then west for another three. Delilah was correct in assuming it was a short twenty minute walk, bringing her to the front of another Inn – this one a fair bit nicer looking than the Coin and Coffer – and stepping in deftly. The inside was about what she expected; a bar and restaurant on the bottom floor and several floors of rooms above. She passed by several stares as she walked to the innkeeper and exchanged a precious few words, explaining why she was here. The Innkeeper – a burly man with a well-worn apron about his waist – nodded and motioned for her to head on up, mentioning that if she was truly there for Eclipse, she was expected. Bowing politely again, she thanked the man and followed Delilah’s instructions to their room.

Knocking gently on the door, she was greeted by Renn as he opened the door. “Oh! Oracle! So nice to see you again!” He looked genuinely pleased to see Amara, but a shade of concern fell across his eyes. “How’d you find us?”

“Delilah at the Adventurer’s Guild told me... had your group not requested my presence?” She seemed awfully confused.

“Not to my knowledge... Gil?” He turned in to address the hulking axe-wielder, who only shrugged.

“Same. But at the same time, Yor’s done sh*t like this before. C’mon in.” Renn nodded happily at Gil’s words and fully opened the door for Amara, letting her in. The room she found was a fair bit nicer than her own – but not be a whole lot – with a large wooden box in each corner filled with straw and packed down with a sheet, a feather pillow on each bed. Just looking at the beds, it was clear who owned which; and that they had been staying in this room for a fair bit of time. Near the bed at the back left of the door, Gil’s heavy axe leaned up against the wall, while the bed just to Amara’s right had a mage’s staff resting against the nearby wall. Gil was dressed – if Amara dared call his status as such – in a pair of simple flax trousers, his barrel-chest and tree-trunk arms exposed for all to see; while Renn was dressed down in a simple tunic and trousers, his wirey frame on display for all.

“He may have not wanted to get your hopes up.” Amara mused as she stepped in, smiling and nodding gently to Renn as she passed.

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Renn nodded as he sat on his bed. “So, how have you been since we last talked?”

“Things are going well! There was a slight hiccup in my registration with the Guild, but thanks to Delilah’s kindness, I was able to work around it. I’ve been busying myself with work around E-Rantel of late.”

“Yeah-” Gil scrunched up his nose. “-work for a Copper is kind of ass.” Amara just smiled and shook her head.

“You misunderstand. I enjoy the – for lack of better terms – boring and simple jobs... probably much more than my peers might. It allows me to connect with the people and do some very fulfilling work.” Gil chuffed at this, shaking his head.

“Yer a kind one, that’s for sure, Amara.” He picked his axe up off the wall and began to run a whetstone over the edge. “Yor and Gideon should be back shortly. Gideon was bitchin’ about runnin’ low on medical supplies...” His gaze flicked up to Amara as he smiled. “Waste’a money, if you’re here.”

“It is always wise to have a back up plan in place. I praise Yor his foresight.” Gil chuffed again, shaking his head as he turned back to his axe.

“...definitely a kind one...” He muttered to himself. After a moment, he looked back up at Amara – still politely standing at the door – and fixed a steady stare on Renn. “Why don’t you clear that chair off and give the good lady a place to sit, yeah?” Gil suggested to Renn, who was beside himself with thought.

“Oh! Right, I’m terribly sorry!” He moved to the chair – which was currently holding his backpack and a spare robe slung over the back – and cleared it of its previous occupants. Amara simply smiled and nodded to him.

“No worries. Thank you.”

“So Amara...” Renn mused as he finished clearing the chair, Amara sitting with a nod to him. “...where’s this village of yours? You mentioned you were from a village, but I don’t know of any villages around other than ones with a human population...”

“It is in the forests to the east... more I am afraid I cannot tell you. Our people have lived a life of seclusion out of necessity, you see. If I told you more, it would cause you – and my people – trouble.”

“That’s sad... might I ask... what caused your people to live in seclusion?”

“Don’t pry, boy...” Gil grunted, the rasp of the whetstone punctuating his statement.

“It is not prying.” Amara assured them both. “That, I may freely tell you. A great many years ago, an Oracle – much like myself – was called by Linder to aid the land. At the time, our people were distrusted, but tolerated. She sought to change the people’s opinions of our people, so to spread Linder’s good word, she was known to those on the outside as Great Oracle Linder – so that her good deeds would be Linder’s alone.” Renn nodded. “However, near the completion of her task, she was betrayed and murdered at her weakest point by one she thought she loved, a Drow woman.” Renn frowned, a visible pain casting over his face.

“...damned Drow...” Gil mused, another rasp of whetstone echoing in the room. “...nothin’ but a bunch’a backstabbing traitors, the lot of ‘em.” Amara tentatively agreed with him with a nod.

“So great was Linder’s sadness and wroth, that He commanded His people to retreat from the world stage... to live a life of seclusion in the forests. To forsake the people who would forsake and betray them. And so it has been for much longer than you or I could fathom.” This was nearly a verbatim, word-for-word quoting of her writings from her book, and judging by Gil’s reaction, it appeared as though Drow existed here too. In YGGDRASIL, Drow and Dark Elves were similar, but different. Dark Elves more referenced their evil disposition, whereas Drow weren’t explicitly evil... at least in principle. Physically, Drow resembled more western Dark Elves than actual Dark Elves, who drew more physical characteristics from their eastern contemporaries. Drow had skin the color of obsidian and hair of gleaming silver, and stern crimson eyes; whereas Dark Elves had variance in their hair and eye color, and usually skin of milk chocolate.

“I’m sorry that happened...” Renn mused, Amara simply chuckling.

“It was a great many years ago, dear... but thank you for your kind words.” Just about the time Amara had finished her tale, the innroom door opened to Yor and Gideon, the former of which smiled kindly upon seeing Amara.

“Amara, good, you’re here.” He sat a heavy leather backpack down on the bed across from Renn’s, sitting next to it. “Thank you for agreeing to come with us.”

“It is no issue, my friend. Though, you could have stood to tell your companions.” Gil nodded to her words, confirming he would have liked to know.

“Yeah, probably... didn’t want to run the risk of you rather having nothing to do with us.” Yor responded with a little chuckle.

“Perish the thought. You four are delightful to spend time with. Though... I will admit as to being curious to why you’d go out of your way to bring me with you. You are – after all – Iron-Ranked Adventurers... I would think I would be a detriment.”

“Yeah, if I only cared about ranks.” Yor chuffed.

“Honestly, Amara... it’s clear to me you’re far stronger than your plate dictates-” Gideon explained. “-especially if you were serious about being equally strong at magic, healing and swordplay.”

“I’ve never felt like I did that day in the fields... being able to twist myself around their blades and dodge their arrows as though I could see the path they will take through the air?” Yor shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t put that feeling into words. The short of it is, Amara... the four of us have been talking, and we want you to join us.”

“Are you not worried about the Guild’s concern of-”

“Man, f*ck the Guild.” Yor responded with a chuckle. “So they’re gonna pay extra close attention to us, so what? That just means they get a clearer picture when we succeed.”

“To be brutally honest, Amara... the four of us?” Renn began. “The four of us alone are going to be capped at Gold. We’ll never be stronger than that, we just don’t have the raw talent to go any higher. We’ll never be the Blue Roses, never be Drop of Red... but with you?”

“I’ve always prided myself as being an unstoppable engine of death-” Gil muttered. “The immovable object that stood between my friends and my enemies. I’ve always delighted in the carnage of combat... perhaps a little more than I should. But that day? When we fought those goblins? I didn’t think I was an unstoppable engine of death... I was. I felt invincible... and that’s a feeling I’ve never had.”

“And for fear of sounding selfish and arrogant-” Gideon picked up after Gil. “If we have someone who can not only handle herself in all situations, as well as heal our wounds without the use of potions or herbs, bandages and splints... then it will not only lower our overhead, but our downtime as well. It will allow me to focus on my archery – though, please don’t believe I will be slacking in my medical care.”

“With you, Amara... we can go all the way to Mythril at least. And when I say ‘we’, I mean all of us, all five of us. Hell, we might be the next Blue Roses!” Yor continued strongly. “So yeah... it might be a touch selfish to ask you to join us, to help make up our flaws... but it’s not like you won’t benefit too, right?” They had good points all. Sure, she might have turned into the backbone of the party... but she had always been someone’s backbone. In the village, everyone bent over backwards and kowtowed to her will. She spoke, and everyone listened. In her old life? Well... she wasn’t the only one with a rather memorable moniker for no reason.

“Making up for each other’s flaws... is the very heart of cooperation.” Amara mused, remembering something her old workmate told her once. “I will make you a deal. I will withhold my answer for the time being. Once this assignment has been completed – and we both see how we work with one another – I will allow you to ask me again, and I will give you my answer then and there. Is that agreeable?” Yor smiled in relief, afraid he would have been refused outright. Renn chuckled a little, clearly amused by the whole thing.

“Yeah... yeah, that’s more than agreeable. Don’t worry, we won’t rest on our laurels. We’ll show you what we’re capable of.” She didn’t doubt they’d impress her with what they could do. They were clearly skilled – Iron was where the real meat of the Adventurer’s position started to pick up – and they clearly worked well together... she more wanted to see if their personalities could mesh. Gil was a stubborn brick of a man who was heavily biased on a lot of things... but had already proven capable of having his biases not only challenged, but changed as well. Yor was an open-minded and – from her experience – wise man who was every much a thinker as a fighter; and had already shown compassion and a willingness to trust. Gideon was flexible and skilled in many vocations, capable of inflicting damage just as easily – if not moreso – as he could mend it. And Renn? Well, the kid may not have had access to much above what Amara considered Tier 2 magic... but he seemed to be a level-headed caster who could keep his concentration and cool under fire. She didn’t doubt that her skillset could mesh with the four... honestly? This whole thing was a formality. She didn’t want to appear too eager to join them, for fear they may think her trying to ride their coattails, nor did she want to come off as too hesitant.

“Alright, so!” Yor continued. “Already went over this with the boys, but I’ll fill you in since you’re here, Amara. Guild’s got us clearing out a camp of goblins a fair bit southwest of E-Rantel.”

“Different group than last time.” Gideon clarified, Yor nodding to him.

“Yeah, different, and a bit bigger. Guild sources state this is probably a camp five or six dozen deep... damn near a city if you ask me. Apparently, there’s a cave system that runs over a two square mile area on the edge of a forest, goblins have taken up residence in the caves.”

“Mmm...” Gil grunted, a rumble in his throat sounding like a growl. “...don’t like underground combat.”

“Nor do I.” Gideon echoed. It made sense, Gideon was ranged and the inclusion of tight, winding passages with no clear, clean lines of fire would make his job much harder; and Gil was already a big guy with a large weapon... a weapon that needed a decent amount of space to swing effectively.

“I know a few area of effect spells I can use to keep our forward progress swift.” Renn chirped up, Yor nodding.

“I figured. I also figure they can’t be all winding passages and twisting tunnels... there have to be open areas for that many goblins to live. Figure Amara, Renn and I take the lead on this, Gil and Gideon watch our backs. When and if things open up, Gil goes back to doing what he usually does.” A solid plan. Amara nodded in agreement to their positions. “The only other thing, is there’s a five copper bounty on each goblin ear we can claim. Only the left one, though... no double-dipping.” Five copper wasn’t much... but if there were as many in there as they said, that would add up wicked quick.

“Let me handle that.” Gideon nodded. “If I’m going to be relegated to the back, I might as well do something to make myself useful.” Yor and Gil both nodded to that.

“Agreed.” Yor spoke, taking the backpack from his bed and setting it on his lap. “Having said that... I bought everyone some presents.”

“...please tell me you didn’t buy us matching armbands again...” Gil rolled his eyes as he said this, causing Renn and Gideon both to laugh.

“No no... useful presents this time.” Yor assured them, rifling around in the bag. “...where the hell did they go...?” Amara could hear the rustling and clinking of various objects in his bag, before his eyes lit up. “Ah-ha! There you are you bastards.” He retrieved his arm from the bag, a small burlap sack – barely large enough to hold a grapefruit – pinched between his fingers. After putting the backpack behind him, he opened the sack and withdrew a small crystal phial with a disgusting blue liquid within. “The nice old lady who runs the apothecary was having a special on healing potions thanks to – in her words – two kind-hearted adventurers who provided her enough supplies to make more than usual.” He handed everyone a single potion. “Not much, but it’ll be there for you if you need a pick-me-up.

“Well, far be it from me to complain...” Gil began. “...but how much did these run us?”

“That’s a question you don’t need to know the answer to.” Yor answered dismissively, causing Renn to roll his eyes.

“Translation: a lot.” Renn

“All five of them were only four gold.” Yor responded, sticking his tongue out at Gil.

“Four go- dammit, Yor, that’s most of our money!” Gil barked, rolling his eyes. “...hells, damage done, I suppose...” He looked to Gideon. “Hope you’re good to hunt for our meals for a bit, Gideon.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” Gideon answered with a nod. He must have been in on the potion thing, as he didn’t look too phased by it.

“I do not mind helping either.” Amara confirmed.

They spent a few moments going over what equipment they had (Amara leaving out the literal hundreds of healing potions sitting in her Item Box, an idea she had no doubts the group of four men would struggle to grasp) and before too much longer, they had left the Inn and the city for the countryside. Yor lead the party – a roughshod map held in his hands – towards their destination. He mentioned it was a decent trek out of the city – about a four hour walk – which didn’t seem to bother anyone too awful much (save for Renn, who looked bushed halfway through, though he didn’t complain). They had stopped after the three and a half hour mark, the group setting up a makeshift camp – the backpack Gil wore was laden down with four bedrolls, and Gideon’s had a small stew pot and tripod hashed to the side – to rest for their assault on the goblin ‘city’.

“We still have plenty of light...” Yor observed. “Do we want to attack now, or wait until the morning?”

“We should at least take a break.” Gideon answered. “Give our feet a chance to rest, and a chance to catch our breath...” He smiled to Renn and slapped the young man gently on the back playfully. “Poor Renn here looks like he’s run the outskirts of the city.”

“...feels like it, too...” He huffed, all too happy to take the offered break.

“That settles it. We’ll take a half hour break, then assault the city.” Yor nodded, taking a seat on the grass as the rest of Eclipse unshouldered their backpacks and set them down onto the ground. As they rested, Gideon got a fire going as Gil started to spread out the four bedrolls out for everyone. Renn and Amara – being the two smallest of the group – sat on one to rest while everyone else rested on their own bedroll. The five spoke gently as among themselves as they recovered their stamina from the walk.

After the allotted half hour, Yor collected everyone and informed them they were close to the cave in question – Amara had spotted the small knoll just to their west when they came to a stop – and everyone went over the plan one final time: Amara, Renn and Yor would lead the proverbial charge, leaving Gideon and Gil to bring up the rear. Whenever the passage would open up, that’s when Gil and Gideon would assume their usual roles. Securing whatever they believed they would need, they pressed on into the small knoll a few hundred feet away. The ‘decoration’ outside the cave – totem poles made of ribcages and skulls, along with half-rotten viscera – had informed the experienced members of Eclipse that goblins did indeed call the cave home. “Disgusting vermin.” Gil mused as they passed the macabre displays. “Their idea of ‘interior decorating’.”

“Vile, indeed...” Amara waved the stench of rotting meat from her nostrils as they proceeded into the cave. Thankfully, the smell dissipated once they got past the entrance, a strange cool breeze wafting in from deeper within the cave. Renn waved his staff in a tight circle before himself, a small orb of light appearing just off the tip of his staff, illuminating the corridor as they walked steadily deeper. The cavern twisted and turned on itself, cork-screwing down deeper and deeper underground, and with each step, the only sound that met their ears was the eerie, deafening sound of silence.

“...odd...” Gideon muttered in a low, concerned voice. “...we should have at least heard them by now...” This definitely didn’t sit well with Amara either... the goblins from the other day could remain quiet when they knew they had the element of surprise... but the shoe was on the other foot now... they weren’t expecting them to come through, so she thought they wouldn’t being doing their best to remain quiet... something about this stunk.

After another few minutes of walking down the ever-winding corridor of stone, they came to an open antechamber – large enough for the five of them to spread out and stretch a bit, but not enough to really let any of them cut loose in a fight. In the center of the room was a single dead goblin – face-down in a pool of its own blood, arms and legs splayed out to the four corners of the room – its body devoid of wound or welt to give anyone a hint as to what had ended its life. “...strange...” Yor mused as he looked at the goblin. The strangest thing about the creature was it was naked. Goblins weren’t known for their social decency, of course... but they were a war-like species, constantly scavenging the battlefields to use scraps of armor or cloth for protection. To see one in this state was – in a simple terms – strange indeed. Renn approached the goblin and crouched at its side, nudging it with his staff.

“...what do you think killed it?”

“Not a sword, axe or arrow, that’s for certain.” Yor answered, crouching on the other side of it. He seemed to fight with the idea of turning the creature over to examine it some more, but a single look to his face told him he wasn’t keen on touching it. “Should we press on?”

“...we should, but I don’t-” Renn had begun to speak, but stopped mid-sentence, looking up and around suddenly. Amara, too, had ripped her attention away from the goblin corpse and began to look around the room. “...do you feel that, Amara?”

“Yes.” Amara answered with a nod. She felt the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on-end as an ethereal electricity coursed through the air. It was minute and subtle... she didn’t doubt for a moment none of the other members of Eclipse felt it.

“What do you feel?”

“Magic... in the air around us.” Amara answered, Renn nodding. Renn’s face went white as he started to walk towards the path they had come from, Amara walking to the passage leading deeper into the cave. Renn reached the passage first, putting a hand out and trying to cross the threshold into the passage back to the surface. His hand stopped in mid-air, his fingers tingling as he felt a very physical presence blocking his path... an invisible wall preventing retreat. Amara too tried to advance deeper into the cave, but her advancement was blocked by a similar wall across the cave entrance. “...cute...” Amara muttered to herself. “We cannot advance.”

“Nor can we retreat.” Renn continued, turning inward towards the group. “We should-” As he spoke, Yor, Gil and Gideon had begun to look around the chamber, trying to see if they could spot anything close to what Amara and Renn mentioned. Renn’s eyes fell on the dead goblin as its body bubbled and convulsed violently on the ground. He didn’t know what it meant, but he felt a sickening sensation in the pit of his stomach. “Yor, move!” Renn managed to choke out the instant the goblin’s corpse erupted into a putrid cloud of sickly green gas, filling the chamber they were in rapidly.

“Gas?!” Gideon barked, his hand rising to his face to block the stench. Amara struggled to run through her spell list in her head to see if she had anything to combat this kind of attack... however with no knowledge as to the nature of it, she could do little but hold her breath as well. Gil began to cough and choke as he swatted uselessly at the gas, trying to displace the thick green smog that filled the chamber. Yor and Gideon were close behind in choking on the gas, and it was only seconds later when Renn and Amara could no longer hold their breath, forced to breathe in the tainted air.

It wreaked of rotten eggs and burned Amara’s nose hairs as it filled her lungs, her body causing her to choke and cough in a desperate attempt to expel the putrid toxicant that was filling her lungs. Gil – the first to breathe the gas – was also the first to succumb to it. The large, barrel-chested man gave one disgusting hacking cough before he fell to the ground. Yor and Gideon were close behind, followed very shortly by Renn. One by one, the members of Eclipse collapsed to the ground choking on toxic air. Amara redoubled her efforts, her lungs burning and screaming for air as she struggled to keep the gas at bay. Her mind fired on overdrive trying to think of something she could do, some enchantment she knew that could allow her to breathe safely in this toxic chamber. Her vision blurred and she was eventually forced to release the held breath, her mind blanking as she too collapsed to the ground.

She can’t quite exactly tell how long she had been out. Her Druid abilities only really worked when she could see the sky, and even then, the gas had messed with her mind so much she could barely think straight. When consciousness next returned to her, she found herself face-down on a cold stonework floor, the throbbing headache engulphing her entire skull telling her she had been out cold and unmoving for some time. Her muscles screamed and her joints popped as she got her hands under her and started to push herself to standing. Shaking her head, she caught a look at her naked arms, then rolled her eyes. “...far from the worst hangover I’ve had...” She mumbled, looking herself over again to confirm yes: she indeed had been stripped of everything. “...and not the first time I’ve woken up naked on a foreign floor before...” Closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose, she focused on pushing the headache away before opening her eyes once more and surveying the room she was in.

It was cold, unfeeling stone cell, a wrought-iron gate blocking the only entrance, the door closed and locked tight. Pushing herself up and onto her feet, she stabilized herself and went to the door, confirming it was indeed locked. Huffing gently, she touched the lock. “Unlock.” She mused, the lock flashing white as a deep, metallic clunk echoed, the door swinging freely for her. She found herself in what could only be described as a cell block, about ten or so cells in five-deep rows on either side of a hallway which stretched on before her. Each cell on the opposite wall to hers was filled with a dozen or so goblins each – dead, of course – in various stages of decay. Her bare feet slapped gently against the cold stone floor as she moved, following the odd architecture of the passage – like ancient ruins long-since buried – and up a flight of stairs.

“...subject remains resilient to application.” An eerie, rattling voice muttered to itself some distance away, echoing off the hallway stone. After several more steps, she pushed open the heavy door before her and entered what she could only rightfully describe as a laboratory, several stonework slabs lined up around the room and several small tables arrayed with tools of all manner. “Despite subject’s smaller stature to its peers, it seems more resilient. As expected, negative energy has a diminished effect on smaller subject... magical barriers – no matter how weak – seem to effortlessly impede the permutation of energy into the body.” The voice paused as Amara scanned the room. Standing at the far end – its back turned to her – was a lithe figure, the flesh on its bones shredding off in ribbons and dangling like loose threads from its arms and back. Off over its shoulder, a leather-bound tome floated in mid-air, a quill scribbling upon its pages with no visible hand. Enchanted, she bet. “Perhaps the demi-human will provide a more interesting subject... of course, I must take precautions to prevent-” The figure mused, interrupted by Amara.

“You really should have taken me first.” She spoke, her voice carried in the open lab. The figure at the far end, turned elegantly and slowly, two smoldering sapphires of eyes glaring at her from a half-skeletalized face. The figure was clearly undead – some form of lich or demi-lich – and was in the process of decomposition. The figure observed Amara with a measure of disbelief.

“Hmmm...” He mused, flicking his head to the book. “Demi-human appears to be more resistant to sedatives than its companions. Must remember to double dosage on all following subjects.”

“There will not be any ‘following subjects’. Where are my companions?”

“Dead.” The demi-lich mused. “Or dying. Really, is there any difference?” He began to approach her, his gait long and elegant despite his decrepit form. “You could have escaped while you had the chance... I was distracted...” His jaw curled slightly into a smile, his mouth not even moving when he spoke. “...You’re either foolish, or so despondent you cannot think straight. Whichever, I’ll be certain you don’t get a second chance to escape.”

“Protection from Evil.” Amara muttered, her body flashing with a holy white light. “I will say again, Lich. You should have taken me first.”

“This will provide some results to my studies, regardless... Field work always gives me the best results. Do me a favor... please describe how much pain this puts you in, before you die if you would.” He rose a finger up and pointed it at Amara. “Necrotic Beam.” A sickly green beam pulsed from his finger and struck Amara in her chest, just under her neck. Her body flashed white as the beam was dissipated against her spell. The Lich recoiled temporarily, looking a bit surprised.

“On a scale of one to ten? Zero.” Amara shrugged.

“Strange. Even the mage exhibited some measure of discomfort...” He retained his pointing pose, this time with two fingers extended to Amara. “Necrotic Convergence.” Both fingers belched similar sickly green beams, which struck Amara in the chest again, her protection holding.

“Still zero.”

“Inconceivable... you... you are a copper-ranked adventurer! You should not have protection against such a spell!” His composure broke and he seemed genuinely shocked at the turn of events. “But regardless! Xea’drath is nothing if not prepared!” He opened his hand to her, a sickly green orb of death magic appearing in his palm. “Necrotic Cannon!” The beam belched a thick, powerful beam of pure necrotic energy at her, the beam striking her in the shoulder. A spike of pain coursed through Amara’s body, but it was quickly squelched as she advanced on the lich.

“...that one was a one.”

“Impossible! That was a third-level spell! You should be on the ground in unspeakable agony! How-”

“Grand Spirit of the Wolf.” Her body flashed white. “Grand Ironskin.” A metallic sheen covered her naked form for a split second before disappearing. “Grand Owl Sight.” Her body flashed amber. “Grand Essence of the Behemoth.” Her body flashed red as she felt her muscles tense up. She looked over at one of the nearby tables, a small scalpel – much like she had seen in her old life – was resting upon it. Reaching over, she picked up the small knife and looked it over. “Holy Fire.” She spoke again, the scalpel bursting into white flames.

“A priestess!? Impossible, what are you doing with a group of adventurers, you don’t leave the temples!” Amara closed her eyes and muttered a quick prayer – not for her foe, nor for those around her this beast had slaughtered – but for herself. By the time the demi-lich had processed that she had started to sprint towards him, she was already right in front of him, scalpel held like a dagger ready to drive into his skull. Grabbing his decaying shoulder, she shoved him down with her momentum. “Ngh!” He grunted, falling to the ground with a dull rattle of bones. Raising the scalpel up, Amara spoke quickly.

“Linder has seen your crimes, beast, and has found you wanting. I only regret that I am unable to bring myself to visit the pain and suffering you visited upon others, upon you. Go in peace, child of man; and bother this world no more.” With this quick condemnation finished, she drove the scalpel into his skull, the enhanced blade piercing the bone and striking true.

“G-graaaauggh!” He growled in pain as the holy flames of the scalpel engulphed his body wholly. Convulsing and twitching in pain, his screams grew louder and louder as the white-hot fire incinerated him to a crisp.

“Tell me, Xea’drath...” Amara mused gently as she watched the demi-lich burn to ash, her hands folded with a gentle sarcasm at her waist. “...describe how much pain you are in... before you die, preferably...” She would not get an answer, as he shrieked until he had no body with which to scream, a pile of bone-white ash left behind in his stead, the scalpel clinking uselessly to the ground as the white flames winked out of existence. Amara sighed, shaking her head. “A pity.”

“Ah... Ama-ra...?” A weak voice drew her out of her bloodthirst and back to reality. She strode around the pile of ash that was once Xea’drath the Lich, and to the table he had been examining. There, chained upon the table by his arms and legs was Renn – stripped naked, and covered over most of his chest, arms and legs with sickly green boils, the product of the Lich’s necrotic touch, if she were a betting woman.

“Renn... Linder be good...” She looked him over, putting her hands on his chest. “A moment... I will do what I can...”

“He... experimented on us...” Renn spoke weakly, his eyes closing gently as Amara channeled her magic through his body to purge the negative energy. “Said he... wanted to see... the limits of the... pain we could stand...” He gently shook his head, tears squeezing between his shut eyes.

“Sssh... do not talk... save your strength.”

“He... picked Gideon apart... piece by piece... made me watch...” He gasped. “Yor was... I don’t even know... he just... stopped moving...”

“Renn, please... save your strength...” Amara was barely keeping herself together as is... she didn’t need a play-by-play. “I can... I think I can bring them back... I hope...” Even in YGGDRASIL, resurrection had a few small limitations on it. A player could – in ideal circ*mstances – resurrect another if the following three requirements were met. First, the resurrector had to be in the resurrectee’s party or raid. Second, they had to have died recently. YGGDRASIL had a two-hour auto-resurrect timer in play. When a player died, if they could be resurrected before the timer expired, they lost only a comparatively small amount of levels – between seven and ten at max level – but if the two-hour timer expired, they were auto-revived at their Guild base or the starter town, and lost a whopping fifteen to twenty levels at max level. She wasn’t sure if the two-hour timer was true here, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was. And third and final: they can’t have died from negative energy-based attacks; and this included Instant-Death effects, which were all negative energy. As long as those three requirements were fulfilled, the person could be resurrected. “How... how long have we been here...?” Amara asked.

“...dunno... lost track of time...” Renn shook his head. “He’s been torturing me for... hours... four? Five? Lost track. Could also only be fifteen minutes... can’t tell...” Amara watched the sickly green boils shrink and disappear as she channeled healing magic into Renn... she could feel her magic burning away rapidly, her headache returning. Healing him was going to tap her of all her mana... even if she could resurrect Yor and the rest...? She’d have no mana to do it.

“Do you know where he put our equipment?” Amara asked, trying to keep his mind off the pain.

“...no...” He shook his head, opening his eyes and looking himself over. “...sorry you have to see me like this...”

“Sssh.” Amara shushed him gently. “I am in no better predicament...” A few minutes later, the green glow about Renn’s chest and stomach sputtered and faded, causing Amara to stumble back and clutch her head. “Nngh... sorry I... I cannot channel the spell any longer...”

“No... don’t apologize... I.. feel better... stronger.” She nodded. “The key to these shackels are... over there.” He nudged to the left with his head. “On the little table.” Amara – bracing herself on the slab Renn was chained to – walked around to find the key to let him out. After stumbling about, she eventually found the small key – an unadorned iron key – resting on the table. Picking it up and deftly applying it to the locks, she released Renn from his shackles, the young man instantly trying to stuff down his growing erection. “...gods, I’m sorry Amara... we’re on death’s door and here I am...” Amara placed her hand on his shoulder and shook her head.

“Do not worry... please. I take no offense. The body infrequently understands the full picture of what is happening around it.” She looked around the laboratory. “Do you think you could search for our equipment? I will see if... if the others are able to be saved...” She didn’t have hope, and it was clear by Renn’s dour nod that he didn’t have any hope either. As Renn began to search the laboratory from top to bottom, Amara returned to the door she had entered from, back to the holding cells.

It was times like this she hated YGGDRASIL and their stupid mechanics. Manatapping herself to heal Renn through the worst of his injuries wouldn’t have been a problem for other games, all it would have taken was a quick chug of a mana potion and everything would be hunky dory... but no, YGGDRASIL didn’t have mana potions. The only way to get your mana back was time. Meanwhile, Amara has to deal with the feeling of having a headache and being hungry all at the same time.

Pushing her minor complaint to the back, she began to more thoroughly search the cells. In the back of one was a bloodied pile of limbs – two arms, two legs and a head – circled around a naked torso. Even from this distance, without having to get closer, Amara recognized Gideon’s face twisted into a painting of pure agony, seconds before he died... and the fact that flies were starting to buzz around his body told her his death wasn’t recent, either. She closed her eyes. “Go with the grace of Linder, my friend... I am sorry I could not save you...” She hung on the bars in silent remembrance for a moment before moving on.

In another cell was a familiar barrel-chest of a man – face down and stripped of all clothing – with the same sickly green welts and boils all over his body. Several had popped and oozed a sickly green puss, while others throbbed menacingly. Even if she could bring him back, that wasn’t the kind of state he’d want to live in. Choking down her tears, she pressed her forehead to the bars again. “Go with the grace of Linder, my friend-” She repeated. “-I am sorry I could not save you...”

She didn’t have to even see him to know Yor was dead, too. His body was covered in a multitude of cuts, bruises and with multiple broken bones. The wounds had been infected and several maggots were crawling through his flesh already... he must have been the first. Amara – fighting against the stench of decaying flesh – pressed her forehead to the bars once more and repeated her prayer for her deceased friend. She drew in a steady breath to steel her nerves before standing fully and continuing her search through the cells. The goblins they had been sent to kill had all been piled up in three cells – at least two dozen bodies per cell – all in various stages of decay and decomposition. One cell had more flies than air molecules inside.

“...hey...?” A voice chirped from nearby, bringing Amara’s attention to a cell at the far back corner. Peering inside, she spied another man seated against the back wall, his head hung a little as he stared at her. “...cut me a break?” He asked. He – like everyone else – was stripped of all clothing, save for a single tarnished silver ring on his left hand. She couldn’t see from here, but it didn’t look like a wedding ring.

“You are alive?” Amara questioned, trying the key she still carried on the cell door, the door swinging freely.

“...mmmgh...” The man nodded. “...barely...”

“Who are you?” Amara asked, crouching down by the man.

“...a nobody... we... were sent by Slane to...” He touched his forehead. “...f*ck I don’t even remember why...” He shook his head. “Don’t care anymore... rest of my unit is dead... would you help me out?”

“You would accept the help of a non-human, and a non-believer at that?”

“...girl, at this point? I’ll accept the help of a talking grapefruit if I thought it was real. I don’t care who or what you are... as long as you let me out and let me walk out of here without shoving a sword through my gut, I’ll accept the help.” Amara nodded, sensing nothing but desperation to live with the man.

“Then help you I shall.” She offered him her hand and helped him up.

“Damn lich... can’t even let a man keep his dignity...” He brushed his backside off. “Or a lady hers.”

“Amara, I found our clothes!” Renn’s voice called from the end of the cell block. Amara smiled at this.

“Aaah, Linder be praised! I was worried I would have to walk back to E-Rantel barefoot and naked!” Not that she minded – at least the naked part – but still. Renn came down the stairs to see Amara helping the Slane man out of his cell.

“Oh, there is another survivor?” Renn asked, Amara nodding.

“Yes. Apparently, the rest of his men are dead.” She turned to the man – her arm about his shoulder as she helped him walk. “Will you be able to get back home?”

“Most likely. Do you mind if I accompany you back to the city so I can get some supplies for the trip back to Slane?”

“That will not be a problem.”

“You’re from the Theocracy?” Renn asked, the man nodding.

“Hope that’s not going to be a problem?”

“No, of course not. I don’t care where you’re from, if you survived this, you must be tough.” The man chuffed playfully at Renn’s words.

“Tenacious, more like...” He looked at Renn, the young man holding Amara’s robe expectantly in his hands. “...don’t just stand there, boy... give the girl her clothing.”

“Ah!” Renn seemed to remember his place and trotted over to Amara, handing her back her robe. “Sorry...”

Everyone took some time to redress (the Slane man finding his clothing in the same pile Renn had found his own and Amara’s) and they had regeared up with all their equipment. Renn and Amara spoke for a bit and decided they’d bring back Yor, Gideon and Gil’s weapons, along with their plates. As sour as it made Amara’s stomach to think of it, they could recuperate some of their losses by selling their weapons, and the plates would need to be brought back to record their deaths, according to Renn.

As the three walked back up the winding path to the exit – Renn leading the way with his magelight – Amara couldn’t help but see the Slane man fidget with the ring on his finger. It was a standard silver ring – slightly tarnished, but still brilliant – with a flat, square-top at the center. The center flat-top had an image of a tree engraved on it, five small leaves on one side of the tree. “That is quite the ring you have there...” Amara mused to him, the man looking at her, then to his ring before lowering his hand and nodding.

“Yeah... it’s... somethin’ alright.”

“I am surprised that Xea’drath did not remove it from you, along with the rest of your belongings.”

“Well... he tried.” He admitted. “Thing’s uh... thing’s cursed, you see.”

“Ah...” Amara nodded. “I have yet to fully recover my mana, but would you like for me to try to dispel the curse?”

“Don’t waste your time or mana. I’ve taken it to every priest, holy man and monk I can think of... no one can pull the curse off.” Amara smiled and took the man’s hand.

“Indulge me?” After a moment, he nodded.

“What the hell. Can’t hurt.” Hovering her hand over the ring, she muttered a quick incantation.

“Dispel Curse.” She mused, the ring flashing crimson for a moment. She gave the ring a tug, but it remained on his finger. “Hmm... a difficult one... let us try...” She touched a finger to the ring. “Break Magic Item.” The ring flashed blue, but other than that, nothing happened. “You were right... that is certainly one stubborn curse.”

“Yep. Thanks for trying anyway.” Satisfied she at least tried, Amara, Renn and the man from Slane exited the deathtrap that had been the end of so many others... not least of all Eclipse.

Chapter 7: Black Scripture

Chapter Text

It was night when the three survivors emerged from the undead Hell that had nearly spelled their end, two AM to be specific. Despite the fatigue that had run rampant through their bodies, and the frazzled nerves that demanded they stop, Amara insisted that they could rest all they wanted once they got back to E-Rantel. The four hour walk passed with absolute silence as the three were content to just be happy to be alive; not to mention neither Amara nor Renn were keen to broach the subject of their fallen comrades. Their silence persisted until they reached the gates of E-Rantel. The man from Slane thanked them for their kindness and promised that once he had procured supplies for the return trip, he would be on his way. Amara thanked him, wished him well, and bade him farewell as he took off into the city. Renn – for his part – had managed to keep his composure up until the moment the man disappeared from sight. Renn sputtered as he began to cry, collapsing onto his knees as he sobbed. Amara smiled gently at him and knelt at his side and lovingly rubbed his back.

They stayed silent for a few more minutes as Renn got his tears out of his system, his whole body shivering as the realization that he too had come frightfully close to sharing Yor, Gil and Gideon’s fate came crashing down on top of him. “...I’m such an idiot...” He blubbered through his tears. “...such a... stupid... stupid idiot...”

“Nonsense...” Amara assured him, still rubbing his back. “There was no possible way for you to have known about that trap.” Not even Amara’s Precognition triggered on it – which in itself was cause for concern – so she could hardly fault Renn for not seeing it. “There was no way for any of us to have seen it. Do not blame yourself... if you must blame anyone... please, blame me. Had I not been incapacitated-”

“No!” Renn returned strongly, shaking his head. “I can’t blame you... there’s nothing about it that was your fault...” His strong tone faded as the tears returned. “...if anything, I owe you my life... without you, I would have been dead, too...” He turned and hugged her tight, refusing to let go. “...without you I’d be dead...” He repeated. “Thank you... thank you for being able to save someone...” Amara smiled and held his head, stroking his hair as he continued to break down into tears, her robe absorbing his tears as she let him get his emotions out. After another moment, he pulled away. “...I’m sorry... I’m getting snot and tears all over your pretty robes...”

“Think nothing of it, Renn...” Amara smiled.

“...Amara... can I ask you to do something for me? Something... selfish?”

“Mmm? Of course. What can I do for you, dear?” Renn inhaled deeply.

“I’d... like for you to bring their plates to the Guild and... report their deaths...” Amara saw that coming. She doubted immensely Renn would be up to the task, and they did have to report the results. Amara nodded to his request. “And...” he began, bowing his head and pulling his own plate off his neck. “...please bring mine, too... and let the Guild know I’m retiring.”

“You are quitting?” Amara asked, Renn nodding.

“There’s nothing left for me, Amara... Yor, Gideon and Gil were my found family... my closest, best friends... without them I...” He huffed, shaking his head. “...I don’t know what I’m going to do without them...” Amara took his plate in her hand and looked it over. Renn looked up expectingly to her, half-expecting her to refuse him, to try to bolster his courage and get him to keep going.

“I understand.” Amara nodded, clutching his plate in her hand. “I will do this for you, and tell the Guild what happened.”

“...I’m sorry...” Renn apologized again. “It’s... going to cause you trouble. It wouldn’t surprise me if they blamed you for our deaths... I’m sorry to make you do this, but I just... I can’t...” He looked away, shutting his eyes. “...I can’t.” Amara kissed his forehead gently.

“I understand.” She smiled, knowing full well that this kind of job just wasn’t something someone of his constitution could pull off. “Do you know what you will do in the future?”

“I don’t know...” Renn continued. “Probably... probably spend time with mom...” He gave a bitter, half-hearted laugh. “...Mom always hated my decision to be an Adventurer... she’s going to love that I’ve changed my mind...”

“I am certain she will be more pleased to see you hale.” Renn paused for a moment, pulling away from Amara.

“...I hope.” The pair stood and Amara made certain he was going to be okay. “I’ll... leave you to it. If you’re ever in the area of the northern part of the city, stop in... I... still want to see you once or twice.”

“I will be certain to drop by. Be safe, Renn... it has been a pleasure working with you.” Renn nodded and started into the city proper, leaving Amara alone. She lifted her robe sleeves to her eyes and banished the tears that were forming. She couldn’t let him see her cry, couldn’t let him know that she was just as shattered about what had transpired as he was... she had to be strong for him. Taking a deep breath – and making sure all four plates were in her hand – she started towards the Adventurer’s Guild.

It was almost morning by the time they had arrived back at E-Rantel, and the sun was just starting to crest the horizon when Amara pulled herself through the door to the Guild. Amara instantly saw Delilah with her head down in some paperwork, the overworked Clerk stretching and yawning as a sign to her fatigue. Amara smiled gently as she advanced on Delilah, trying not to look too beaten down. “Delilah.” Amara spoke simply, grabbing the clerk’s attention. Delilah opened her eyes mid yawn and took note of Amara.

“Oh! Amara! Welcome back!” Though she smiled to the Linderlass before her, it was clear she could read the unreadable expression on her face. “You look pale...”

“I... would like to report on our request...” Amara mused, placing the plates on the table before Delilah.

“...gods be good...” Delilah picked up the plates. “Yor... Gil... Gideon...? All of them?”

“Renn is alive but... he has had a change of heart. He wished me to inform you that he is retiring, effective immediately.” Delilah looked back down at the plates in her hand, then nodded.

“I understand. I’ll... file his resignation with the Guild...” She looked up to Amara. “But please... what happened?”

“There were no goblins...” Amara began, telling Delilah the story of Xea’drath. Delilah listened intently, her eyes hardly blinking as Amara told her the story.

“...Xea’drath?” Delilah spoke up at the end of her story. “You... you’re certain you heard that name?”

“As certain as the sky is blue.” Amara answered assuredly. “He spoke it clearly. Who was he?”

“Xea’drath the Ever-Living... a Lich that’s been plaguing E-Rantel for decades. He’s some kind of... sick scientist. He pops up every few years, kidnaps a bunch of people and experiments on them. All kinds of sick experiments... Once we start to figure out that he’s back, he just... vanishes. Like a fart in the wind – if you’ll excuse the colloquiallism.” Amara waved her concern away. “He’s a Platinum-level threat... there was talk about the Adventurer’s Guild hiring the Blue Roses or Drop of Red to take care of him... he’s killed more Adventurers than anything else...” She looked back down at the plates in her hand. “It’s little consolidation, I know but... at least with his death, no one else will suffer.”

“It is more consolidation than you may know.” She paused as Delilah looked over the plates more. “I... apologize but... might I ask what will happen with their plates now?”

“Normally, when an adventurer dies, their plates are sent to their families in remembrance... but only Renn had any living family in Eclipse... so now? I don’t know... maybe they’ll be melted down, maybe they’ll be thrown away... I don’t know.”

“May I offer a solution?”

“Mm? Sure, what would you suggest?”

“Might I keep them? I wish to remember my friends and their sacrifice.” Delilah looked confused in her response.

“That’s... a bold request... usually we would only release an adventurer’s plates to family members, or their living party members... I don’t think it would be right to-”

“Let her have them, Delilah.” A powerful, mature male voice spoke from behind Delilah, causing the woman to jump in her spot. From behind the desk – through a door Amara had always seen closed – came a tall, dignified older gentleman with well-kept gray hair and a well-trimmed moustache of the same hue. He walked beside Delilah and stood next to her at the counter. “I think it’s the least we can do for someone who’s rid us of the Ever-Living One.” Delilah nodded, and handed the plates back to Amara. “Sorry for the interruption... you are Amara Akusa, yes? The one I’ve been hearing so much about?” Amara stumbled about herself for a moment before nodding and bowing.

“I am she, yes. I apologize about meeting you in such a condition.” The man just shook his head.

“Think nothing of it. Pluton Ainzach, Guildmaster of E-Rantel's Adventurer’s Guild. Eclipse was one of our most promising up-and-coming parties... we all had high hopes for them. To hear that they are no longer with us is... disheartening.”

“Thankfully, not all of Eclipse is dead... Renn simply wished to retire-” Amara began, Pluton shaking his head.

“His adventuring spirit is dead... that’s as close to death as a man can get, and still draw breath.” Amara’s face flickered at these words. She supposed they had more merit than most would see in them.

“Yes I... suppose that is the case.”

“And of you, Amara? Has this unfortunate case snuffed out your adventuring spirit?” Amara looked at him, the man’s gaze filled with genuine worry and concern for her.

“No sir. I remain stalwart. I cannot give up. There is more than my life riding on this.” Pluton studied her for any sign of uncertainty; any flicker of an emotion that would tell him that she didn’t believe her own words. After a moment, he finally nodded.

“Glad to hear it. Death is hard... but it is better you know the risks.”

“I have always known the risks, sir. Not once have I ever had the delusion that this profession was a safe – or Linder forbid sane – one to dedicate my life to... but you must understand I simply cannot stop now. No matter what horrors befall me, no matter the depths of mankind’s depravity I bear witness to... I simply cannot stop.” Pluton looked her over for a moment, a most queer look about his gaze.

“You speak as a woman far older than you appear... one who has seen more death than any man would ever wish upon his greatest enemy. I see a fire in your eyes I’ve not seen in forever.” He nodded. “Good. Hold onto that fire, Amara... why don’t you go get some rest... you look like hell.” Amara looked down at the four iron plates in her hand.

“...yes...” She nodded. “I believe I shall.” Delilah handed Amara the four iron plates. Clutching them to her chest, she placed them in her satchel, promising herself to find a chain for them when she can. She would carry these friends in the same manner she carried a hundred before.

She – in fact – did not. As she bade Delilah and Pluton goodbye, she left the Adventurer’s Guild and E-Rantel as a whole. She followed the path back southwest, back to that cursed little cave where Eclipse had met their fate. At the time, she had wanted to leave more than anything... but now that she was free of the death trap and safe, another desire rose up within her. Xea’drath’s journal. He had been dictating to it like a scientist might use a tape recorder in her old world... a grim curiosity came to her as she followed the path back to the cave, arriving just before noon. She must have been crazy... there was no other explanation to it. Something didn’t sit right with her... something she couldn’t put her finger on.

She entered the cave without even sparing a moment to rest, following the winding passage down, the lingering memories still fresh in her mind. She passed the small chamber where they had been trapped, the ruptured corpse of the goblin testament to the fact the trap had been sprung and not reset. She walked past, paying the goblin corpse little mind. She followed it down... down... down... until it opened up to Xea’drath’s laboratory. Opening the door, she peered in, flickering torchlight dancing across the macabre walls as she took in the empty laboratory... except that it wasn’t empty.

Leaning over a table near the back left hand wall was a man, one hand bracing himself on the table as the other rested upon a small crystal orb before him. Amara had passingly noticed it – paid it little attention as the safety of Renn and herself was top priority – but it would appear she wasn’t the only one. The orb pulsed with a sickly, unknown power. She sensed a great many things from it... but most of all it made her feel ill just looking at it. There was no way on Linder’s green earth that orb was anything but evil, through and through. Amara walked farther into the room, the man near the orb flicking his head just a bit towards her. “Knew you’d be back...” He mused, smirking a little. Even in the low torchlight, Amara recognized him as the Slane man she had rescued. “Looks like this little beauty drew your attention, too... huh?”

“What are you doing?”

“Completing my mission.” The man answered, looking at the orb. “...only been here a handful of minutes, I guess starting over won’t be an issue.” He turned to face Amara fully, removing his hand from the orb; the glow fading slightly. “Amara, was it?” Amara nodded to him. “I’ll make you a deal, Amara. I owe you my life for rescuing me... it’s a debt I would pay back in full. Walk away. Pretend you didn’t see me here, and I’ll consider the debt paid.”

“That crystal pulses with an unholy power...”

“Perhaps unholy to the non-believers... but we of the Slane Theocracy have always found ways to bend even the most blasphemous artifacts to our whims.” He looked quickly to the orb and nodded. “This one will be no different.”

“So you would have me leave, then? In spirit of the kindness I showed you?”

“I would. Leave me to my own devices, and I will thank you by returning the kindness you showed me.” Amara watched him carefully.

“Then tell me... what will you do with whatever power this orb may grant you?”

“What do you think?” The man shrugged weakly. “Our great Theocracy will wipe this world clean of non-believers, monsters and demi-humans alike... all will be one under the Six, and I will fill the void left by Windstride’s treacherous duplicity!”

“So you mean you will kill me and murder my people? And all people who do not share in your belief?”

“Murder implies that they were people to begin with. I prefer to think of it as... removing the chaff.”

“I cannot allow you to harm anyone, least of all my people.” The man just smiled, shaking his head.

“I took you for an honorable one... perhaps it was foolish of me to offer you clemency.” With a curt motion, he threw his hand out to this side, a crimson aura surrounding him; two small orbs hovering about his waist. “A pity! But I suppose there was no harm in trying! I feel it only right for you to know the name of the man who will send you to your Liar God in pieces! I am Corvo Sulterra, Rising Star of the Slane Theocracy’s Black Scripture!” Clutching his fist and thrusting it out, he launched a fireball directly at Amara, the Linderfolk able to expertly dodge out of the way.

‘A silent cast?’ Amara thought to herself as she twisted out of the way of the attack. ‘Is such a thing possible in humans?’ Few classes in YGGDRASIL could silent cast – most notably being Ninjas and Illusionists – but even with silent cast, the incantation still has to be mouthed. In Amara’s - admittedly short – time in this world, she was the only person she had met who could silent cast anything. He chuffed at her, forming a second fireball in his other hand and throwing it fiercely at her. A flick from Amara’s wrist sent one of the smaller tables flipping up high enough to block the attack, the fireball puffing out of existence as the table clattered to the ground. “Grand Ironskin!” Amara announced, her body flashing with a steel-like sheen. With another motion, Corvo launched another fireball at Amara, who lifted her arm to block the attack, the ball of flame exploding with little fanfare as it dissipated.

“I shouldn’t be surprised... Xea’drath was a platinum-level threat; no push over. But I assure you, girl, you’re in way over your head!” He held his hands out in front of himself as though he were holding a basketball, a small flickering ember forming between his hands. He began to float gently off the ground as he lifted the ember over his head. “Let’s see how fast you are!” Arching his back, he launched the ember directly through the stone ceiling of the room. A tingle in the back of her head told her to move... didn’t matter what direction, but to move. Twirling and vaulting over the stonework slab behind her, Amara put some distance from her last position. The moment she recentered herself, several streaks of flame rained from above – seeming to phase through the ceiling – and peppered the area where she had been standing. Impossible... simply impossible! Spells like that couldn’t be used indoors, much less in such tight confines! At least... at least in YGGDRASIL...

“You are quite talented, Corvo Sulterra of the Black Scripture... I have never seen such spells as the ones you have before...”

“I could say the same to you... Ironskin, was it? Impressive.”

“It has served me well on many occasions.” The crimson aura around him faded, the two spheres disappearing.

“...and I have to say I’m impressed... managed to last longer than my Aura of Restoration...” He snapped a hand up as his whole body flared to life with fierce orange fire, the flames surging for only a moment before they faded to nothing.

“...what kind of magic caster are you?” Amara felt herself asking, Corvo just smiling.

“One of a kind.” Lifting up his fist, it burst into flames, the fire growing to a massive fireball. “Ha!” He grunted, throwing the fireball directly at Amara. She had precious little time to dodge, but her Ironskin had taken it like a champ. Knocked backwards into the wall from the force of the impact, Amara watched as the fireball exploded in a grand flash, her Ironskin fading from her body.

“Ngh-!” She grunted, shaking the haze out of her eyes. Heaving a little to catch her breath, she steadied herself. “Identify Magic...” She mused, trying to figure out what school of magic he was using. It wasn’t Summoner, it wasn’t Wizard, wasn’t Sorcerer... and he had no focus! That made the least sense. Her spell just fizzled, almost as if not even Identify Magic knew what the f*ck he was using. ‘Nothing?! What do you mean ‘nothing’?!’ She howled to herself. Gritting her teeth, she put her hand on her sword. “Grand Spirit of th-” Corvo answered by snapping his fingers, a spike of coldfire pain wracking her mind and sending her doubled over in pain. “Ah-hah-!” She grunted, her sword-bound hand going to her head to fight off the headache. An interrupt?! This bastard could interrupt her damn spells!? And what the f*ck was with that cast time!? A spell like that fireball should have been at least a twenty second cast, and he just pulls it out his ass!? What the f*ck is he? Though... having said that? Most interrupts had a long cooldown. Shaking the pain out of her head, she recentered herself and tried again. “Grand Spi-” He snapped again, another spike of pain racing up her mind and causing her to yelp in agony.

“I can do this all day.” Corvo smiled, Amara barely able to look at him through the splitting headache. “That’s the problem with you demi-humans... can’t grasp the concept of-” While he was monologuing, Amara decided that she’d play by his rules then. Pushing the pain in her mind as far back as she could, she rapid-cast Grand Ironskin, Grand Spirit of the Wolf, Grand Essence of the Behemoth and Grand Owl Sight quietly, her body flashing all menagerie of colors as she buffed her combat potential. Before he could blink, she rushed him, sword at the ready. “Sh-!” He grunted, knocked out of his monologue. Her blade flashed out of its sheath, expecting it to slice clean through the man’s stomach... instead, a spark and a flash echoed in the chamber as she was knocked back from the recoil of steel meeting steel. “You cheeky bitch, you caught me monologuing!” He laughed. “So... you don’t need the incantations, huh?” He twirled the blade that had appeared in his hand defiantly. “Interesting.” He stroked his chin. “Don’t suppose I could convince you to forsake Linder and accept the Six, could I? You could climb the ranks of the Black Scripture frightfully quick... might even make First Seat in a few years.”

“I would sooner violate myself with a cactus.” Amara glowered at him, the man chuffing.

“Damn girl... a simple no would have sufficed...”

“I will give you one final chance. Cease your assault and remove yourself from the cave... allow me to destroy that orb. I will allow you to keep your life.”

“Can’t do, girl. Sorry.” There was definitely something strange about this man. The sword he had didn’t look magical, but it had appeared from nowhere... and yet he was clearly a magic caster. Magic casters can usually only use swords if they were magical in some way (there were exceptions, but those exceptions required you to jump through more hoops than most magic casters were comfortable with, sacrificing a lot of power and – in YGGDRASIL at least - levels).

“Then I am truly sorry.” She rushed the man head-on, flipping a second small table at him as she passed. With a bat of his hand, he knocked the table away and thrust out his sword, the straight steel blade ripping clean through Amara’s robes and flesh... then, he watched the image of the Linderfolk Oracle fade into smoke and shadows.

“Wh-” His balk of surprise was cut off when the steel blade of a katana was shoved through his back and thrust out his chest. “Kht-” He grunted, looking down at the blade breaking through his sternum, Amara’s hand resting on his shoulder. “Clever... ngh... girl...” He grunted, the sword clattering out of his hand as blood oozed out the sucking chest wound and his mouth. With a pull of her blade and an arm around his shoulders, she gently lowered him to the ground and crouched beside him. She had used the distraction of the table to cast Shadow Assailant from Ninja, which created a shadow-clone of the user. The clone cannot deal damage and is dispersed with a single hit... but it was enough to confuse. In the split second he had been distracted, she bolted around and behind him.

“I am sorry it came to this...” She mused to him, stroking his cheek with her other hand, her sword lying across his chest. “...but I am afraid you brought it upon yourself...”

“Keh-” He coughed, turning his head to spit out the blood. “...damn right I did...” He smiled, teeth stained crimson with blood. “...Amara... I’ll... ngh... remember that name...” Amara nodded.

“I wish you well in the afterlife.” She bowed her head to him. “Go in peace, and know Linder forgives you.”

“Heh... y-yer...” He weakly gave her the double finger-guns. “...pretty good...” He laughed, spitting blood out to the side again. “I’ll... see you later...” With these final words, all life left his body, leaving him limp in her arms. Lifting her head and closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and held it. After a long moment – her lungs burning and screaming for fresh air – she released it.

“...same old Angel of Death...” She mused to herself, picking her sword up and standing, flicking the blood off the blade with a quick motion of her wrist and resheathing it at her side. She went to the orb he had seemed so interested in... it was about the size of a grapefruit and had a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors within it, a single jet-black slit down the center of the pattern made it look like some creature’s eye – like a large cat or maybe a dragon – and no matter which angle she looked at it from, it always looked as though it was staring straight into her soul. She reached out to touch it, but the sickening sensation in her stomach returned and she stopped. It wasn’t that if felt evil... it just felt... wrong. Almost unnatural in how it just stared at her, unblinking. Hell, nothing about today had been natural... Lichs, sick and twisted experiments, strange magic she’s never seen before... and now this eye thing.

With renewed vigor, she reached out and touched it, setting her hand on the top. The moment her fingers touched the cold surface of the crystal, it glowed a bright white and she felt something... worming its way into her mind... a strange presence that felt as real as unreal. She had no allegory for it, just like some monster curling up in her heart and falling asleep. Removing her hand, she felt the presence in her heart fade along with the light of the crystal. “...you’re powerful...” She muttered to herself, feeling the presence flee back into the crystal. “...I should destroy you...” She stepped back and drew her sword. “Grand Essence of the Behemoth.” Her body flashed crimson as she drew her blade over her head and brought it down with crushing might. A blow like that would have cleaved a lesser crystal clean in twain, broken it with little effort... but in this case, her blade simply bounced off the surface, leaving nothing – not even a chip in the surface – to tell her she had even attempted it. Screwing her nose up, she returned her blade its scabbard and placed her whole hand on the crystal; the glow and presence returning. “Break Magic Item.” She canted again, the orb glowing a blinding white before a beam of pure energy – forceful and painful, but not damaging – slammed hard into her chest and picked her up, throwing her across the length of the room. “Gah-!” She gasped as she slammed hard into the far back wall – a good seventy feet away – and fell to the ground with a bodily thud. “...hells that hurt...” Pushing herself up off her side and shaking the forming concussion from her mind, she sat back up. “...knew I should have learned Break Greater Magic Item...” She stood and started back across the wall.

If she couldn’t break it – either magically or conventionally – her best bet was to move it... probably cast it into the sea or into the nearest volcano... neither of which she knew how to get to readily, but it would be better to carry it around in her Item Box than just leave it here. With a twist and a flick of her wrist and two fingers, the Item Box portal appeared before her. “Okay, you... time to go in the box...” She reached out with both hands and tried to pick the crystal up. “Ngh-” She grunted, the smooth sphere refusing to budge from its spot; not even a twitch in a centimeter. She tried everything – pushing, pulling, rolling it, picking it up... but it just refused to budge. Stepping away from the orb and running a hand through her raven hair, Amara huffed. So, moving it wasn’t going to happen, and she couldn’t destroy it. She wasn’t about to risk just leaving it here... Slane already knew it was here, and it would only be a matter of time before they figured out Corvo failed and tried again...

“...no, can’t leave it.” Amara shook her head and drew in a breath. She didn’t want to do it... but it was the only safe option. Holding her breath, she placed her hand on the orb, the coiling presence returning and the orb glowing a brilliant white. Slowly letting her breath out, she kept her hand on the orb, the presence growing steadily by the second. She would contain whatever destructive power this orb had within herself. She couldn’t trust others not to use it to hurt innocent people – or worse, her people – so she would do the unthinkable and take it for herself. The only person she could trust not to use whatever power this thing had for evil was herself.

The minutes slogged by as she felt the presence in her heart grow, a great dragon coiling around her and squeezing the life out of her heart. It caused her no end of discomfort, but she couldn’t trade innocent lives for comfort. After about half an hour, she had honestly gotten tired of standing there... and if her recollection of table top games was any hint, some of these items could take full days for them to attune to their user. She didn’t have days. Reaching into her Item Box with her free hand, she flicked through the mental images of everything within, eventually coming to one of her many Infinite Haversacks. Taking it from the box and opening it, she retrieved one of the small, crystal Hourglasses within.

This was another YGGDRASIL cash shop item, called Timekeeper’s Memory. It was a small little glass or crystal hourglass with a few grains of sand within. Once you began casting a spell, you could break the item and the spell would instantly complete, no matter what its cast time was. Amara didn’t carry many of them, on account that almost all of the skills and spells she used in combat were already instant-cast; but liked to keep a few around, just in case she needed a quick resurrection or something. To be honest? She wasn’t certain that it would even work... she wasn’t casting a spell per sa, but one was channeling into her (she could tell, feeling the flow of mana running through her veins) but she was willing to gamble this one Memory in hopes it would speed things along. Locking eyes with the orb, she set the Timekeeper’s Memory in her hand and pressed her thumb into the weak point where the hourglass connected. With little pressure, the hourglass shattered, the two pieces fizzling and fading from sight. Once the Timekeeper’s Memory was gone, Amara watched the orb glow brighter and brighter as the tightness in her chest got painful – memories of the Raven Death tearing her heart out causing her to panic a little – before the crystal shattered, falling to pieces with no fanfare. The tense coiling feeling in her chest vanished, and just like that everything was back to normal.

She could feel... something squeeze its way into her mind, some knowledge of a spell she could easily cast... but she wasn’t about to risk casting it anywhere... she wanted to know, but this was the kind of information that was best kept secret.

Now that the dark secret of the orb had been carefully stored away in her mind, Amara went to the real reason that had brought her back to this cursed pace – Xea'drath’s journal. Walking over to the table she had left it, she picked up the thick, leather bound tome in lithe hands, looking it over with a curious eye. Cracking open the musty old book, she looked at the letters on the page. They certainly weren’t any language she recognized, and past that everything just... swirled and shifted, as though some magic was obfuscating the words’ true meaning. Snapping it closed with a dull thwump, she stuffed it into her Item Box before closing it with a motion. She’d have plenty of time to pour over that.

There was nothing left for her in that cave but bad memories. Climbing back up the path, she followed the three and a half hour path back to E-Rantel; doing her best at the end of the trip to forget the cave even existed. Despite telling Pluton and Delilah that she was going to lie down, she returned back to the Adventurer’s Guild to continue work. Rest could wait until later. She walked through the doors, the Guild in an uproar as several clerks spoke animatedly among themselves. Picking Delilah out of the crowd – along with Pluton speaking to her – Amara advanced.

“...this is getting out of hand, sir! First Eclipse, and now the Swords of Darkness!? Losing two Iron-Ranked parties in one day is a first, and neither were pushovers...” Delilah was frantic, wearing her worry and fatigue openly on her face. Pluton – for his part – did his best to calm her.

“Believe me, I’m aware... And keep your voice down! We don’t want the other parties thinking they’re being targeted...” Delilah pinched the bridge of her nose as Amara advanced.

“Excuse me...” Amara chimed in, Delilah looking up and doing her best to stuff her worry into the deepest reaches of her psyche.

“Amara... hello.” She forced a smile. “How did you sleep?”

“I did not... did I hear you right? Another party has fallen?” She spoke low, Pluton sighing and nodding.

“Yes... but please don’t go spreading it around... The Swords of Darkness... they were another Iron-Ranked group... they were found dead just a few short hours ago.”

“’Found’ dead? Where?”

“That’s the crazy thing... according to the reports, they were killed in the city!” Amara blinked.

“In the city?” Delilah nodded. That... didn’t make any sense. Sure, Iron-Ranked Adventurers weren’t king sh*ts of the universe... but when you put them up against your average thug or mugger, they were more than enough for even a small group of them. A normal-ass person wouldn’t stand a chance against a party of Irons... so that means there’s either a large pack of monsters somehow sneaking around the city killing people without being seen... or they were picked off by an exceptionally powerful someone – or multiple someones.

“Yes... according to the guards, they were killed by a small piercing weapon; like a dagger. Apparently the strikes were precise and practiced.” A small piercing weapon wielded by someone with skill and precision... many of the Adventurers she had seen were more fond of swords, axes and bows than daggers. Whatever had happened didn’t bode well at all. “Just be careful, Amara. If someone’s targeting adventurers, I don’t think anyone’s safe.”

“Do not worry. I do not plan on making a target of myself... I feel you are correct.” She felt a coldness settle into her heart... could this have been the work of the Raven Death? No... no, that didn’t sound right. The Raven Death was a magic caster, and a particularly strong one at that... there would be no way a caster of his strength would sacrifice some of his power for martial weapon proficiency... and definitely not daggers even if that was the case. No, she couldn’t help but feel this was unrelated to the Raven Death... but she was filled with a desire to see justice done. She had avenged Eclipse, but to her knowledge the second party – the Swords of Darkness they went by – had no one to avenge them.

It was afternoon when she returned, though she had been on the move since early this morning. Rest was in order. Returning to her room, she knelt by her small torii statuette (brought here via her Item Box) and offered up a prayer to not only her fallen comrades, but the Swords of Darkness and – perhaps more surprising to Amara herself – Corvo Sulterra of the Black Scripture. She held no contempt for the man... more pity and regret that he would retain a similar belief to many in her previous world: that those who do not agree with you do not deserve life. Whenever she prayed for the fallen, she always felt at ease... like it was the world’s way of reassuring her that she was doing the right thing. With her mind at ease and her heart lightened, she stood from her statuette and bowed once more to whatever force it was – be it truly Linder or some placebo effect – that had made her feel so at ease whenever she prayed; before undressing and seeing herself off to bed.

Chapter 8: Mass for the Dead

Chapter Text

It would not be a restful sleep. Once the sun had gone down and night had fallen over the city of E-Rantel, a disturbance slowly drew Amara from her sleep. She was in no immediate danger, nor did she think the city was either... but something was brewing at the edge of her consciousness that was doing its best to get Amara’s attention. She tried to ignore it at first, prioritize her sleep (which she so very much wanted after the day she’d had) but as time passed, it grew more and more insistent. It hadn’t been more than a few hours since she went to bed – the window near her bed still dark against the stillness of the night – and the sensation pounded in the back of her mind powerfully.

“Mmmgh...” She grumbled, sitting up in bed and holding her throbbing headache. She looked around to see that – as she believed – she was in no immediate danger, but it didn’t stop the feeling of impending doom from bearing down on her. It was the same kind of feeling from that trap in the cave... an overwhelming – and yet somehow unnoticed – feeling of some unknown magic in the air. Cursing whatever it was that drew her from her sleep, she redressed back in her robe and gently slapped her cheeks to fully wake up. Thankfully, unlike her previous life, waking up was a lot easier for the mid-twenties Oracle than it had been for her early forties self. Putting her katana in her obi band as she was want to do, she left her Inn – making doubly sure the key was with her – and walked out into the streets of E-Rantel.

It was just after midnight when she walked out, the Druid part of her acutely aware of the time now that she could see the sky. She closed her eyes and let the raw magical power in the air pull her towards its center. Without a word, she began to walk through the streets, playing hot-or-cold with the sensation: moving towards the feeling when it grew, and doubling back on herself if it began to weaken. She was fully awake within a minute of stepping outside, the unusually chilly night air putting a brisk pep in her step as she wandered through the streets. It was a strange feeling, this power that permeated the air. It didn’t feel like any kind of power she was used to. It felt a little dark – negative energy if she were a betting woman – but at the same time it was so much more than just that.

Magic wasn’t the only thing she could feel. Along with the thrumming power in the air, there was also free-flowing emotions. Hate. Anger. Resentment.... Fear. A lot of fear. In fact, the fear grew more and more as time passed, quickly and exponentially outstripping the other emotions running rampant through the magical miasma that flooded the streets. Her wanderings – over the course of twenty four minutes – had brought her to a walled section of the city, high stone walls and a thick oak gate separating the section from the rest of the city. Try as she might, she could not deny that this power – whatever it was – was radiating powerfully from within these walls. She placed a hand on the stone walls, and she was instantly awash in a flood of sadness, and emotion she had infrequently felt in this world.

“Can I help you?” A voice spoke up, breaking Amara out of her trance. She blinked, opening her eyes and faced the direction of the voice. It was a young man in glittering steel plate armor, a spear held tight in one hand. Amara smiled at the man in an attempt to push the overflowing emotions from her mind.

“Sorry... I was simply curious... what, may I ask, is behind this wall?” The guard – wary of Amara and her question – quirked an eyebrow to Amara and flashed a look to his partner, standing on the other side of the oaken gate.

“It’s-” He answered slowly, turning back to face Amara. “-it’s E-Rantel's cemetery. The honored dead from the Annual Wars, and our most prestigious Adventurers are interred here.”

“...a cemetery...” Amara frowned, her hand still placed on the wall. “May I gain entry?” Amara asked, turning her attention away from the wall and to the man.

“I’m sorry, the cemetery is closed until daybreak. No one is allowed in at night.”

“Can you feel it? The magic in the air?”

“Magic in the air? In a cemetery? Look lady, I don’t know what kind of sick freak you are but-”

“No no, please, you misunderstand. I mean actual magic in the air... a thrumming of power that pounds at my mind and soul... as though the single most powerful ritual spell I have ever felt is being cast within these walls...” The guard looked back at his partner, who only stifled a laugh and shook his head, looking away. “Please... I know it is irregular, but I simply must be allowed entry. I have a terrible feeling that something awful will happen if I do not.”

“And as I told you, the cemetery is to remain closed until daybreak. If it’s really as bad as you think, or whatever-” It was clear by his tone and word choice he didn’t believe Amara for a moment. “-then you’re more than welcome to come back in the morning.”

“I do not believe we can wait that long.” The man sighed, clearly tired from this exchange.

“Look, lady... it’s late and you’re obviously tired... why don’t you go back to sleep and-”

“Please, sir!” Amara responded forcefully. “I simply cannot sleep until I ascertain the source of this strange power. Please... I beg you to allow me entrance. If it is nothing, and I am simply losing my mind, I will submit to your judgment and allow you to escort me to prison for my impudence... but if I am correct, I feel in allowing me entry may save a great number of people.” The guard looked at her for a long minute – the thrumming in the back of Amara’s head growing in power and force – looking for some sign that she had taken leave of her senses.

“You want me to just go ahead and arrest her, Captain?” The man on the other side of the guard Amara was speaking to asked, a mirthful smile on her face; as though he was entertaining some amusing thought. “She’s clearly insane.”

“No.” The first guard continued, shaking his head. “Open the gates.”

“S-sir?” The second stammered.

“You heard me, Michael. Open the gates.” Amara’s face lit up as she heard these words.

“Thank you, sir. Please, be ready to send a message to the Adventurer’s Guild or the palace at the first sign of trouble. I do not believe I will arrive in time to stop whatever is happening, but I can stem the damage until help arrives. And whatever you do... do not open this door for anything from the inside.” The second guard – Michael – reluctantly opened the smaller door for Amara, fishing a key from his satchel and opening the heavy lock. Shoving the door open, he let Amara pass – the Linderlass bowing politely to him. “Linder keep you, you have saved many lives today.” As Amara entered the cemetery, Michael closed the door behind her and locked it.

“Sir, what was-” Michael began to protest.

“I’ve seen crazy before, Michael. Seen all kinds of dark emotions run rampant through people. Seen the worst of the worst, and the best of the best... that woman? I saw nothing in her eyes put pure concern. She wasn’t crazy. She was sane... hell, probably saner than any of us.” He motioned to him. “At the drop of a hat, get ready to send word to the castle and the Adventurer’s Guild, as she said.” One of the sentries at the top of the wall – a blonde woman with a permanent smirk on her face – had been watching the scene play out and finally spoke.

“Are we just letting anyone in today, Jerod?” The woman asked, the first guard responding with a wave to the wall sentry.

“We’ll discuss this later, Miri. Just keep a double shiny-good look out tonight. If you see anything out of place, let me know.”

Amara could hear them chatting among themselves faintly through the heavy wooden door. She did not blame the outspoken man for his vehement disagreement with allowing Amara though... in fact, she would have found it stranger if they had agreed out of hand. Regardless, she could have no doubts that the source of this – whatever ‘this’ was – was radiating from the cemetery... specifically the sepulcher near the center. The cemetery itself was calm – lines of well-maintained headstones marking the final resting place of thousands of men from probably a hundred different centuries. In a strange way, cemeteries were where priest-types – like herself – were both most at home, and most uneasy at the same time. They were the caretakers and shepherds of the deceased and the bane of the undead (a fact Xea’drath had discovered the hard way) so she was in her element... but at the same time, the thrumming pulse that coursed through the ground at rhythmic, steady intervals was a war drum in her head. In fact, it was so steady that she had half expected the dead to rise and file a noise complaint.

A single pulse – far stronger and noticeable even to the average man – rolled across the ground and a spike of magic surged from within the cemetery’s sepulcher, causing Amara to stumble and fight to retain her balance. “...what was that...?” She grumbled, resting her hand on her katana as she righted herself. As she was assessing the situation, the ground heaved and rumbled in distress, the Druid in her screaming in agony as something dark and twisted seeped into the soil. Holding her free hand to her head to stave off the splitting headache wracking her mind, she surveyed the area through half-lidded eyes, mounds of once-undisturbed dirt began to rumble and roil, limbs – most fully skeletalized and held together through some dark ritual – began to break the surface; tossing flowers and offerings aside as the limbs began to pull the connected bodies free from the ground. “...I was f*ckin’ kidding...” Amara rolled her eyes, chastising herself. She hadn’t actually expected the dead to rise... but then again, when some powerful magical power starts oozing through town, centered on the cemetery, there really isn’t anything else they could be using that power for.

If she remembered the map to E-Rantel Dalilah had, the cemetery only had one entrance – the same one she had entered from. Her mind turned to the guards at the door – wholly unprepared for a siege of this magnitude – as she drew her sword.

“U-Uh, Jerod?” Miri shouted from on the wall.

“What is it?” Jerod answered, helping Michael up – who had fallen from the freak tremor they had suffered – and casting a quick glance up at Miri on the wall.

“Remember when you said keep an eye out for trouble tonight?”

“It was only a few minutes ago, Miri. Get to the point.”

“Do undead count as ‘trouble’.”

“Hardly noticeable. The odd bonewalker is common enough in cemeteries-”

“I don’t mean one dusty, half-rotten corpse of some adventurer killed by dark magic... I mean like... an army of them.” Jerod stopped, looked up at Miri and blinked.

“Define ‘army’...”

Jerod and Michael tore up the stairs to the top of the wall where Miri watched the steady rise of more undead than she had ever seen in her life. Only a minute or so after the ground had rumbled, and there were already a full five hundred plus of them shambling about. Jerod and Michael came to a stop – both hands on the rampart – as they gazed out. The once-calm rows of graves intersparced with well kept cobblestone pathways and benches for the mourning families had been upturned wholly to a scene straight out of his nightmares. Hundreds had already been raised, and more yet were clawing their way out of the graves.

“...sir...?” Miri muttered in a trance-like tone. “...how many people are buried here...?” Jerod cast his gaze out wider – past the immediate threat to the graves near the outskirts that had yet to be affected... but were already showing signs of trouble in due time.

“...two hundred and eight thousand people...” Jerod mumbled in an equally entranced tone. “...give or take a few hundred...”

“Michael?” Miri mused calmly. “Why don’t... why don’t you and I go do like the nice Kitsune lady told us, eh? Let’s go tell the palace and Adventurer’s Guild... I don’t think the three of us can handle this...”

“Yeah...” Michael nodded, his gaze unable to pull away from the shambling bones that were meandering about in place. “...yeah, that sounds like a great idea. I’ll uh... I’ll go bother the palace.” Miri nodded to this.

“And I’ll go grab whatever Adventurers I can.”

“Miri, stop by the barracks first. Get every single person there up, and over here. Tell them not to back-sass and get their asses to the cemetery on a triple-double.” Miri nodded to Jerod’s command.

“Sure thing boss... good luck.”

“I don’t need luck, Miri... I need a f*ckin’ miracle.” Jerod watched the figure of the Linderfolk girl – tiny and nearly lost in the sea of the undead – and offered her a swift prayer. She was the one who really needed a miracle.

Steel flashed and cut through decrepit bone with ease. They hadn’t even paused to wander before laying into Amara with the kind of zeal only the undead could muster. She could easily hold them off... but she worried immensely. She was confident she could either hold off the horde, or take out the source of the problem... not both. If she held off the horde at the gate, they’d just keep coming and eventually she’d be too tired to continue; and would be overwhelmed. However, if she ignored the horde bearing towards the exit of the cemetery... how long would those gates hold before the undead spilled out onto the streets? There was no good answer to any of this, and she hated it.

If the guards had taken notice – which she would be seriously surprised if they hadn’t - then she didn’t doubt that one would have gone for help. Perhaps the Blue Roses or another equally powerful Adventurer’s Party was in town that could help... or maybe the city guard in conjuction with whatever forces the Guild could muster would be enough to push into the throng of undead and take out the source... Regardless, there was only one option she could see that wouldn’t end poorly. She had to believe that help was coming, and it was in her – and E-Rantel's – best interest to hold the gate.

Doubling back on herself, Amara retreated to the gate, cutting her way through anything and everything that stood in her way. To the outside observer, it would appear as though she was simply fleeing the scene... but the truth was far more noble. Stopping before the door, she turned to face the shambling wall of bone that rattled towards her. Holding both arms out to her side, she closed her eyes and let out a short breath. She hated doing this... a pure caster could use this skill until they were blue in the face but... Amara wasn’t a pure caster. “Maximize Magic!” She called, a wellspring of energy surging through her. “Maximized Holy Aura!” A pillar of light formed around her and spilled out in all directions, causing a visible aura of holy light to encircle her. The aura stretched out just far enough to completely block the door out of the cemetery. Already, she could feel the weakness creeping into her muscles. She probably had at most an hour and a half of this before she was just too tired to move. The aura established, she drew her sword with a dramatic flare, holding the blade out before her, two fingers touching the flat of the steel. “Holy Fire!” Another spell caused the blade of her sword to burst into holy flames, a soft amber glow and a healing calm washing over her. The horde shambled endlessly towards her. The moment the first skeleton put one rotting, decrepit foot into the aura’s range, it shrieked and fizzled to dust. Good... so she could still mass-purify the undead. “You no longer belong in this world.” She spoke to the undead. “I can only offer you the peace you have been denied.” Several of the skeletons – clearly stronger than the others – managed to push halfway into Amara’s aura before crumbling to dust while others still disappeared the second they touched it. Looks like the skeletons were taking the attributes of who they were in life... stronger adventurers and heroes would create stronger undead... either that, or whomever was casting the spell had no control over anything.

She stood at the door like a statue, her sword aflame with divine might and her body wreathed in holy fire; daring the horde to approach her. They tried – the weaker ones turning to dust almost instantly and the stronger ones weathering the aura for longer before succumbing. One skeleton – its eye sockets glowing with crimson hate – pushed through her aura and shrieked in fury at her, mocking her attempts to purify it. Lifting her blade, she brought it down on the creature, its boney body bursting into alabaster flames as the might of her power smote it instantly, bones collapsing to the ground and turning to dust before they collided. She didn’t know how long she had to hold her ground, all she knew was that if she fell, so too would the rest of E-Rantel.

Twenty minutes clocked by slowly as the shambling mass of bone continued to try to push through her defenses. The weaker ones fell in droves as the stronger ones survived mere seconds before falling. Her muscles burned as she held the aura, thankful that it was enough to stifle most of the undead without having to rely on her sword. She took a moment to close her eyes and offer up a quick prayer to Linder, requesting that He send her help as swiftly as He could. She could hold the line well enough... but holding the line wasn’t going to stop this problem.

“Electrosphere!” A voice high above Amara broke her prayer and caused her to open her eyes, looking up towards the voice’s direction. From the wall above her, two large spheres of whipping, writhing electricity fell onto the battlefield like artillery, scattering bones across the entire cemetery. Amara felt herself sigh in relief as she realized that help had come. She had held out long enough for someone to come and help her end this madness. The voice echoed the spell, two more electrical bolts slamming into the field before her and scattering more undead. Mustering her strength, Amara decided to give her savior a place to land. Taking a deep breath, Amara chanted one final spell.

“Holy Burst!” With no shortage of skill, she focused the blast into a one-hundred and fifty degree cone in front of her, the wall of alabaster energy rippling out in front of her hand shredding through skeletons some forty feet deep. With her power spent, she collapsed to her knee, braced upon her blazing sword. The sound of feet landing on cobblestone before her caused her to look up, spying the form of the strange woman she had met when she first rolled into E-Rantel, the one who was purple to her. A smile crossed her weakened face... at least the help who came wasn’t some wet-behind-the-ears fighter with only bravado to their name. The woman approached Amara and crouched before her.

“...you...” She mused, her face retaining its neutral stare. Amara just smiled to her and nodded.

“Thank you... for your timely arrival... is it just you, or-” As she was asking this, she watched a hulking figure in dark purple armor land in the middle of the skeletons – who had begun encroaching upon the two women once more – and begin to swing two great big greatswords around like a living blender; sending bone fragments scattering to the winds. He was a blunt instrument, that was certain... but at this point, she would take any and all help she could get. “Good... the more the merrier...” Amara huffed, trying to recover her strength. She couldn’t keep the aura up anymore, but she could definitely keep fighting, especially with a skill from Ninja.

“...you are in no condition to continue fighting-” The woman protested, Amara pushing herself back to standing.

“Nonsense. Someone must defend the gate. You two must stop this problem. I believe the source is-”

“The Sepulcher.” The large warrior spoke in a clear tone, his motions continuing to slice through dozens of skeletons with grand, cleaving strikes. Amara nodded to him.

“Indeed. Can I trust you two to take care of the sepulcher?” The warrior paused for only a moment – his entire body covered in heavy, bulky plate armor, a blood-crimson cape resting against his back – then nodded to her.

“If we can trust you with the gate.”

“You can.” Amara stumbled, feeling the headache brought on by lack of mana rearing its ugly head. Maximize Magic allows her to push her skills well beyond their usual intended scope, but for a much, much greater cost to mana. Usually, Holy Aura only affected an area of about five feet around her; but with Maximize Magic, she could push it upwards of twenty feet out. The cost of that was sapping her mana like no one’s business. Again, she cursed YGGDRASIL not having mana potions.

“You can barely stand...” The woman protested. “...and I can tell you are on your last threads of mana...” Amara took a breath and shook her head.

“Concern yourself with the sepulcher.”

“But-”

“Nabe.” The warrior spoke, taking the woman’s attention from Amara. “If she says she can hold out, we are doing her more a disservice in protesting. We should hurry to end this.” Amara sighed and smiled to the large warrior’s wisdom.

“You are wise, sir knight. Please, I would prefer you do so.” The woman – Nabe was her name – nodded and stepped away, taking her place by the warrior’s side. Without another word, the pair turned and began to sprint deeper into the cemetery, the massive warrior cutting through the skeletons with ease. Content that the problem was to be quickly solved, Amara steadied her breathing and pushed the headache as far down as she could. Linder as her witness, she hated using this skill. “Kassatsu.” She chanted, holding her free hand in front of her face, her first two fingers bolt upright and positioned just inches from her nose. She felt a surge of discomfort – like clamps had gripped every inch of her body – course up and down her body as the spell took effect.

Kassatsu was a skill from the Ninja tree. In the lore of YGGDRASIL, ‘Kassatsu’ meant ‘Life or Death’ in an ancient language. It allowed casters to continue to cast spells even with no mana, but it would take an equal amount of the caster’s health. Ninja didn’t have a lot of spells – precious few actually – but those they did were huge mana hogs (comparatively. Ninja didn’t have a big mana pool) so Kassatsu would allow them to cast some of their larger skills without having to worry about the spell failing due to insufficient mana. The major problem with Kassatsu... was there was no cut off to it. If you tapped your health all the way to zero... it would kill you. Hence the name of the skill: it either gave you the extra push you needed to survive your encounter... or you died.

Once the warrior and his caster companion were far enough away and out of sight – hidden behind a wall of bone – Amara quickly opened her Item Box and retrieved one of her Infinite Haversacks of Greater Healing Potions and shoved it into the satchel at her side. She had a sinking suspicion she was going to be going through these things like no one’s business. The skeletons seemed to ignore the warrior and his companion for the most part, their focus returning to the door. They seemed determined to breach the gate and shamble into the city. Amara stood up straight and brandished her still-burning sword. “Come then! I will defend this gate with my very life if I must!”

Launching herself into the fray, Amara began to cut huge swaths through the skeletons, her blade leaving burning trails in its wake as it sliced through bone as though it were paper. Like a demon, she’d launch herself towards a group of undead, cut through those in her immediate vicinity, then follow up with: “Maximized Holy Burst!” A massive explosion of holy energy blasted out of her rapidly, incinerating every bonewalker within thirty feet of her. Without rest, she’d double back towards the gate to catch any that had gotten too close, and without even thinking: “Maximized Holy Burst!” Another burst of holy energy radiated out from her, cleansing and purifying anything unholy it touched.

She felt Kassatsu’s toll on her body with each Holy Burst, her blood running cold in her veins as her spells sapped her lifeforce in exchange for mana. After her third Maximized Holy Burst, she leaned against the door to catch her breath, the huge hole she had put in the bonewalkers slowly filling as they advanced. Tossing her sword into her off-hand, she reached into her satchel and pulled out one of her Greater Healing Potions. Popping the stopper off with her teeth, she downed the deep crimson liquid with a practiced motion before recorking the bottle and shoving it back into her satchel. The potion worked, warmth and life surging through her instantly, putting the spring back into her step and giving her a surge of stamina to go with it. Shaking her head to clear the oddly familiar acquired taste of those energy shots from her old world out of her mouth, she tossed her sword back into her main hand. “Alright, you sons’a bitches...” The Oracle Amara personality faded as she fell back into her true self. “I’ve got millions of these, let’s see how long you can last!” Unlike in YGGDRASIL, these potions didn’t have a cooldown. As long as she had three seconds uninterrupted to down it, she could keep this going for a while. So, with that in mind... “Grand Essence of the Behemoth!” She chanted, her body flashing red. “Exalted Blade.” She chanted shortly after, her sword taking on an ethereal appearance, still burning with holy wrath. Though she had no representation of how low her health was... it was a strange thing. She could feel deep inside her how far she could push before her life gave out. Crossing her sword-arm across her chest, she swung the blade across the line of skeletons, a wave of energy – enhanced with the holy fire of her sword – launched out in the wake of her strike, slicing a dozen plus lines of skeletons in half. Exalted Blade was an ultimate skill from Samurai that allowed your melee strikes to have a range of up to fifty feet, allowing you to either strike a distant opponent or – more to the point in this case – cut through multiple weaker enemies with ease. It would even give her a spectral sword if she didn’t have one equipped and would prevent all disarms so long as she kept it channeled.

She danced by the gate, sending wave after devastating wave of blue-white fire cleaved effortlessly through the wall of undead. Every few seconds, she would pause only long enough to down another Greater Healing Potion to keep herself in the fight. As she upheld her end of the bargain, she felt a different kind of energy crackle in the air... lightning magic. If the electrospheres were any hint, Nabe must have been an air magic caster. She smiled as she danced, blade screaming in fury as it cut down waves of undead. She would hold out as long as she had to... it didn’t matter how many of her health potions she had to go through, inability to restock them be damned. The people of E-Rantel have been so kind and understanding to her so far... she’d give her life to protect them if she must.

She didn’t have to hold on much longer. After a short time – seven minutes, to be exact – the wave of undead stopped advancing and all at once, they shuddered and collapsed into a sea of bones, the magic holding them together having been ripped out of them. She watched as the bones came to a rest, her blade poised for more attacks should they get back up... a precaution that would be thankfully unnecessary. Before she dispelled everything and was most likely overcome with great strain, she quickly shoved the bag of potions back into her Item Box (after downing a final one). With a motion, all her beneficial buffs dispelled, and she instantly felt all the energy in her body vanish. Her legs gave out and her white-knuckled grip on her sword disappeared, the flame engulphing the blade sputtering out as it clattered to the ground, followed swiftly by her knees on cobblestone, and then her head with a dull thud. “Haaaah.... haaaaah.... haaaaaah...” Amara heaved, unable to move from the fatigue. “Praise... Linder...” She struggled out. “And... praise those... two...” Her knees were screaming and so too was her head but... honestly? She’d let them cry havoc for a bit. She’d never maintained Kassatsu that long, nor had she had such a fight in forever...

In fact, the last time she even used Kassatsu was during an event in YGGDRASIL that became known as the ‘Eight Guild’s Alliance’; a massive fifteen hundred man raid into the largest Guild Base YGGDRASIL had. She couldn’t remember the names of every Guild that participated, but the Crimson Crusaders had devoted their entire force (that was online at the time) to the attack. The Crimson Crusaders boasted a population of eight hundred and ten spread across four different branches, and of those eight hundred and ten, a whopping three hundred and fifteen were able to be on for the Alliance, Amara being one of them. The Eight Guild’s Alliance was comprised of only about eleven hundred and some change actual players, with the rest filled in with NPC mercenaries.

They had assaulted this Guild’s base – Amara had been told before hand they were a ludicrously powerful Guild of Grotesque players (which is why the Crimson Crusaders had agreed to go) that were being touted as ‘YGGDRASIL’s Legion of Doom’ by some of the players. Apparently each and every member of that guild had taken up the archetype of supervillain and played the role to the T, buying out one of the in-game dungeons and turning it into a ten-floor hellscape. Amara still occasionally remembers her time in that raid... apparently they had only made it down to floor eight before what was left of the raid wiped, but Amara herself had been killed on floor six by one very over-eager Dark Elf. An eastern Dark Elf, of course... the game was a Japanese Game.

“Is she-” Amara heard the voice of the burly warrior from before, his heavy footsteps approaching her. A second set of footsteps – lighter and unburdened by heavy plate boots – approached and crouched next to her, putting a pair of fingers by her neck.

“No. She’s alive... just weak.” It was Nabe who spoke next. Amara felt her fingers move. Nabe... that was such a pretty name. Amara smiled to herself, unable to muster the strength to even speak to tell them she was alive and awake. “What should we do with her, Momon?” Momon... must have been the warrior’s name.

“We’ll bring her back to the Guild to rest. Can you carry her?” Amara felt Nabe pick her up in her arms and begin to head towards the door. She heard metal sliding across stonework as Momon picked up her sword and returned it to her scabbard. “She has immense strength, to hold off the undead for as long as she did.”

“Not to mention there’s no telling how long she was here before we arrived.” Convinced she was in good hands, Amara allowed sleep to claim her, lulled to rest by Nabe’s voice and the warmth of her body.

Nabe closed the door to the room the demi-human had been placed in, turning to Momon with her usual disinterested scowl. She looked expectantly at Momon, who only nudged his head towards their own room, two doors down. It was clear to Momon by her face that she had many things on her mind that she simply must get off her chest, but the middle of the Adventurer’s Guild was not the place to do so. Nabe followed him as he moved, the questions and observations eating away at her slowly. Once they entered their room, Momon turned to the door and touched the handle with a finger.

“Mute.” He chanted, the room’s walls, ceiling and floor flashing a purple sheen as they were insulated against sound. “Lock.” He continued, magically locking the door to prevent unwanted entry. Satisfied that they could speak freely, Momon reached up and removed his helmet, revealing the skeletal head beneath. “I take it this is the same demi-human you met when we first arrived in E-Rantel? The one with the ‘unusually strong aura’?” Narberal nodded to his question.

“Yes, Lord Ainz.” She answered simply. “It is also why I offered to go first at the cemetery...”

“She is a priestess.” Ainz more observed than asked, Narberal nodding.

“An unusually powerful one at that. More to the point, Lord Ainz, she is a magic caster with no small amount of martial prowess.” Ainz nodded, stroking his long, broad chin.

“Mmm... perhaps her sword in enchanted?”

“No.” Narberal shook her head gently. “While she was unconscious I took the liberty to detect any kind of magic on her weapon... it is mundane... a simple iron katana.”

“Impossible.” Ainz argued gently. “I was unable to wield a non-magical weapon upon arriving in this world, and there have been no reports of people able to cast both magic and be proficient with swords. Sebas has been doing no shortage of research in E-Rantel's library on the subject, and he was quite confident it is impossible.”

“I am aware, My Lord... it is just as confusing to me. Have you met anyone that could do such a thing?”

“Here? No.” Ainz shook his head. “But... in YGGDRASIL it was possible. They were... not common by any stretch of the imagination as choosing to take both the path of a magic caster and a warrior would make one weak in both aspects when compared to a pure warrior or magic caster.”

“Do you believe she is a Supreme Being? Like you and the Forty One?” Ainz scratched his chin again.

“It... is too early to tell. Sebas has reported that some of his research has revealed an anomaly in this world... a group of people known as the Linderfolk. Apparently – according to E-Rantel's library – the Linderfolk are capable of things deemed impossible by human standards... but details of what ‘things’ those might be were scarce. The description of these Linderfolk match our priestess.”

“Demi-humans? Capable of things others cannot? It... sounds difficult to believe, Lord Ainz.” Narberal continued to postulate, causing Ainz to nod.

“Difficult, but not impossible. So far, I have evidence of many of YGGDRASIL’s rules transferring here... or perhaps by parallel logic, YGGDRASIL’s rules mirror the ones here. Yet... I have seen instances where they differ. YGGDRASIL did not have Martial Arts, yet many spells here existed in YGGDRASIL. It is not that far out of the realm of feasibility that a magic caster/swordsman hybrid could exist in very, very small numbers.” He paced as he thought, his magic armor fading to be replaced by his scholar robe, the angry red crystal in his chest pulsing in thought. “Return to Nazarick.” He commanded, locking eyes with Narberal, the smoldering crimson embers in his skull boring into Narberal’s very soul. “Instruct Sebas to assign an Eight-Edged Assassin to watch this ‘Oracle’ for the foreseeable future. It is not to do anything but observe and report directly to Sebas. If it reports anything he deems of interest, he is to bring it to my attention immediately.” Nerberal bowed to Ainz at the waist.

“At once, My Lord.” She turned and raised a hand, a swirling purple Gate appearing before her.

“Before you go-” Ainz interrupted her, Narberal turning back to face her Lord. “-instruct Aura and Mare to begin expanding the Forest of Illusion at their earliest convenience. There is a chance that Clementine may have company in the near future.” Narberal nodded and bowed again.

“At once, My Lord Ainz.” Narberal turned to the Gate and stepped through, the portal winking out of existence and leaving Ainz alone in the room. Ainz – his boney fingers scratching his shovel-like chin – found himself oddly enamored with the possibility of this demi-human being an YGGDRASIL player.

Chapter 9: Orion's Hope

Chapter Text

Even after such a long recovery period, her body still felt like it was made of lead. Every single muscle burned and the distinct ‘slept through the day’ headache that pounded on her subconscious told her without a single hint of doubt that she had been out for quite some time. That, and of course her stomach’s vehement growls for food as well. She woke with heavy eyes and a fuzzy head, lying in a plush bed that was not her inn room at all. She opened her mouth to groan, but hardly anything came out save for a weak sigh, her tongue sticking to the soft palette of her mouth and her lips peeling apart like they had been stuck closed for days. She mustered her strength and opened her eyes, the sole window in the room streaming in a broad beam of sunlight that cast a long pillar across her floor. A single look out the window told her it was morning, and she had expended far more energy than she had given herself credit for.

Finally able to move an arm, she grabbed a weak hold of the covers which lay across her chest and pulled them off. Beneath the sheets, she was dressed in a simple flax tunic with matching trousers, her robes folded and resting a few feet away on a dresser. Atop her robe was her obi and her katana, as though someone had wanted her to find them. As she moved her legs, she felt exactly how long she had been out – her body leaving a divot in the bed shaped like her, the pillow had morphed to fit her head perfectly. “...haah...” She gave a weak heave, willing her body to push itself up. Her bones cracked and her muscles protested her movement but they swiftly woke from their torpor. Once she was seated, her stomach grumbled and roared at her, demanding to be fed. She hadn’t been this hungry since her first arrival here.

Shakingly she pushed herself off the bed and onto her own two feet. The wooden floor was cool against her bare feet as she slowly made her way across the dresser. Her tabi were folded by her robe and her geta were situated right beside the door a few feet from the dresser. She slowly pulled her flax tunic off and dropped her trousers (a hole hastily cut in the rear for her tail) and went about the business of redressing in her robes. Upon first glance, it would appear as though someone had been kind enough to launder her clothing, the dirt and bone dust that had coated her clothing from her escapades in the cemetery absent, leaving only the pristine white and red-lined robe in its wake. With her robe at least over her shoulders, her one open eye (the other shut to minimize her headache) fell on a single sheet of parchment resting next to her clothes. Slapping a hand gently onto the parchment, she picked it up, the letters blurring as she studied them. “...comprehend language...” She muttered, the letters on the paper rearranging to English. She didn’t have the brainpower to deal with language barriers right now.

‘Oracle Amara Akusa’, the letter began with her full name and title. ‘E-Rantel owes you a debt of gratitude, and I fear they will never know it. Darkness told us what happened; about the Raise Undead Ritual being cast beneath our very noses in the cemetery. They spoke volumes of how you were integral to keeping the undead from breaching the cemetery gates and ravashing the town. The Adventurer’s Guild and the people of E-Rantel owe you a great debt of gratitude for your contribution. Guild Master Ainzach has instructed me to forward your promotion to Iron effective immediately. He does not wish to downplay your contribution – as again it was integral to how well the situation ended – but he feels that promoting you directly to Mithril would draw too much attention to not only you, but himself as well. Darkness – the group that aided you – has already been promoted to Mithril and – despite vouching for you to be rewarded the same – Pluton believes it would cause a rift in the Adventurer’s Guild; so you have been promoted to Iron with the caveat that your promotions – and the promotions of whichever group you inevitably choose to join – will be expedited in compensation. When you are recovered and once you have officially joined or formed a party, Silver and more will come quickly to you. E-Rantel – and the Adventurer’s Guild – thanks you for your selfless sacrifice and your work in protecting our fine city.’ It was signed from Delilah, the representative of the Adventurer’s Guild she worked with.

If she was being honest with herself, getting promoted to just Iron was a touch of a slap in the face but... she couldn’t complain too much. They were right that rapid advancement may cause a rift in the Adventurer’s Guild, especially in those who may see it as the Guild giving her unfair preferential treatment. Besides, rapid promotion like that would definitely draw a lot of attention to her... and not all of it being good. Putting the letter down, she saw a glitter of metal that was under her robe, a roughly pounded Adventurer’s Plate of iron, bearing her full name and title. “...didn’t have to put the Oracle bit but...” She grumbled, taking the plate and hanging it around her neck. “...not gonna complain...” She roughly cleared her throat as she finished dressing, slipping her katana back into her obi and slipping her feet into her geta.

She wandered down the hall for a moment before coming to a large staircase which led down. Slowly descending, she fought the throbbing headache she suffered from and found herself in the main hall of the Adventurer’s Guild. It was still early, so only a few people were hanging around – most enjoying a drink and chatting among themselves. Amara paid them no mind and went right up to the counter, Delilah looking up from her paper as Amara stopped before her.

“Amara!” Delilah’s smile was brighter than the sun, which brought a much more muted smile to Amara’s face. “I’m so glad to see you awake and moving! You were out for some time...”

“...at least a day...” Amara mused, causing Delilah to laugh a little.

“Three, actually.” That explained why she was ravenously hungry and why it felt like she had drunk a whole tube of Krazy Glue.

“...that would go a ways to explain why I am so hungry and thirsty...”

“Of course! Here, I’ll put in an order for breakfast for you.”

“You are a darling, Delilah... thank you.” Amara gave a weak bow, her balance shifting to tell her she shouldn’t be doing that too much. Delilah turned away for a moment to speak to another representative, who nodded and hurried away. “...so... Darkness then?”

“Yes.” She nodded as she turned back to Amara. “According to Nabe – the magic caster – they had sensed the surge of magic and were already on there by the time the gate guard got to the Guild. By the time we could send more people out to help, the situation had already been resolved.”

“Fortunate.” Amara mused.

“Very. Though, they didn’t quite manage to explain how you had managed to get out there first.”

“I am more sensitive to magic than most casters. I sensed the growing power and it woke me from my sleep. I went out to investigate and once the undead began to rise, I dedicated myself to stopping the undead from spilling out into the streets.”

“And full glad we are that you did. The way Darkness tells it, things could have been far, far worse if you weren’t there...” She looked around and leaned across the counter, lowering her voice. “...personally I think it’s an insult to just bump you up to Iron... I argued with the Guild Master about putting you up to at least Gold but... he made a fair point that it was difficult enough to explain Darkness’ rapid promotion to Mithril; and they have been quite a bit more open about their exploits than you have been. He agrees with me, but he also cannot appear to be currying unfair favor.” Amara held a hand up, smiling.

“I understand his predicament. I would not wish to put him under undue scrutiny.” Delilah’s face softened at this and she stood up straight.

“Gods, Amara... you’re too kind of a girl for your own good... you know that? Any other Adventurer would be throwing every swear and curse in the book... but you just smile oh-so sweetly.”

“Perhaps.” Amara was feeling more awake now, both her eyes open as she smiled that oh-so sweet smile Delilah mentioned. “But Linder teaches us to be humble when we can. I am happy to see Darkness’ rise, and happier still to know that none of the wonderful citizens of this city were harmed.”

“Del!” A gruff, male voice shouted out from across the room, Amara turning her attention to a grizzled man with a rough five o’clock shadow and short-cut spikey black hair flagging her down and walking towards her with a big grin on his face. He was dressed in cured leather armor with a single plate pauldron on his left shoulder and form-fitted leather greaves and boots. A shield rested upon his back and a sword on his hip. “Good morning!” He interrupted Amara’s conversation, but the Oracle didn’t take offense to it, simply took a step away to allo whim to speak.

“Good morning, Alnitak.” Delilah nodded to him, bowing a little to him. “Are you and your siblings hungry or-”

“Actually I’ve come to bug you again about what we discussed earlier.” Delilah nodded.

“Well, you’ve actually come at a good time then, Alnitak.” She motioned to Amara with her left hand. “This is Oracle Amara.” The man turned to Amara and smiled

“You were right, Del... she is quite the unique thing.” He shook his head, laughing to himself. “Hells, where are my manners?” He held his hand out to Amara. “I’m Alnitak Rigel, leader of the Orion’s Belt Adventurer Party.” Amara shook his hand gently and bowed to him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Amara Akusa.”

“So polite, just like you said, Del...” He muttered, casting a quick glance to Delilah. “Look, I’ve never been good at subtlety, so I’ll just come out and say it. I heard what you and that other group did for E-Rantel... hell, the news has already made it to the castle. If you have no other offers, I’d like to extend an invitation to join our party.” He held a hand up politely to her to prevent interruption. “I know how it looks... I heard about Eclipse and what happened... and I wouldn’t be surprised if Darkness has already scouted you, but on the off chance they haven’t and you’re inclined, I’d like to put our name in the hat. Our party is all swordsmen, so I won’t lie and say having a caster in the party would be immensely beneficial... but I also don’t want you to think I just want to use you to advance.” Amara smiled as the man spoke.

“Darkness has not scouted me, actually... in fact, I do not believe they will.” This seemed to surprise both Delilah and Alnitak equally.

“Really?” Alnitak gawked, physically recoiling a step. “After what the three of you did, that comes as a hell of a surprise... but then again, the rumors about Darkness peg them as a pretty tight-lipped duo.” Amara nodded.

“They do strike me as very close. In what way, I cannot say however.” Alnitak nodded.

“Yeah. So... that’s that. I want you in Orion’s Belt and I’m willing to meet any requirements you may have.” Amara would be lying if she said that she felt comfortable joining another party so soon after Eclipse’s death... she still felt their deaths in her soul and to say that she felt jumping to another party so soon would be betraying them would be an understatement... but at the same time, Delilah had already said before that advancement would be difficult – if not impossible – if she continued alone... not to mention the attention it would draw for a single Adventurer to get past Iron or Silver. Plus? She still needed help for the Raven Death.

“My only requirement... is to meet your party before I make a decision.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, you understand that if I am so inclined, I can decline your offer.” Alnitak nodded to that.

“Yeah, of course. So uh... we’re a three-man party. It’s me, my younger brother and our baby sister. Neither of my siblings know I’ve been seeking you out, so be ready for a couple of surprised faces.”

“Of course.” Alnitak nodded and took a step back.

“So, why don’t I go get them, and bring them here? You can do a little meet-and-greet?” Delilah suggested to him.

“I hope you will not think me rude for eating while I wait? I have not eaten anything in three days.”

“Ah, no, go right ahead. I can hold off for an hour or so if you’d like?”

“Please. I am afraid I can get quite cranky when I am hungry.” Alnitak laughed at that, nodding.

“Woman after my own heart. Alright, I’ll go get my siblings and meet you back here in an hour.” Amara just nodded and bowed to him as he waved and walked away.

“He’s been comin’ by for the past three days to check on you. ‘Course, we couldn’t let anyone but your own party up to check on you... and since you had no party, I’ve been making sure you were okay.” Delilah leaned on the counter and smiled at her, noticing the plate about her neck. “I’m glad you read my letter before coming down, I figured I should try to explain things to you before you came down here all bleary-eyed and half-awake.”

“Yes, I appreciate your thoughtfulness...” About this time, the woman Delilah had spoken to several minutes ago came back from one of the doors behind the counter with a tray of food in her hands, and a mug of some liquid refreshment paired with it. She handed the tray out to Amara with a smile.

“And here’s your breakfast!” She spoke with an upturn in her voice. Amara gratefully took the tray and gave her a little bow.

“Thank you, you are too kind.” Delilah waved to Amara.

“Go eat, dear. You’ve had a rough last few days.” She couldn’t argue that one bit. Taking her plate to a nearby table, she sat down and – after offering a quick thank you prayer to Linder – broke her three-day fast.

Amara had never been a picky eater. Not in this world, nor the last and she was always – always – grateful for a hot meal when she got it; especially considering what kind of rarity that was when she was working in her last life. But this meal in particular... well, it certainly ranked among her most enjoyable. She was hungrier than when Hikari found her passed out outside her house in the village, and – for fear of sounding disrespectful to her village’s cuisine – the food here proved to be much heartier fare than back home. She had finished in a decent amount of time to prepare herself for meeting the rest of Orion’s Belt when they arrived, letting her sip her drink (a fruity juice that delighted her senses) in peace. Honestly, she would have preferred tea over juice but... when in Rome, as they say. Oracles – according to Past Amara’s writing – were not allowed to drink alcohol; and while technically Amara isn’t strictly an Oracle anymore, she decided she would keep playing the game. Amara never really was much of a drinker, anyway.

Time rolled on until an hour had passed, and almost on the minute it had rolled over, the Adventurer's Guild door opened to Alnitak leading two other figures into the hall. The first was a near-identical copy of Alnitak – a tall, thin-but-muscular younger man (probably early/mid thirties?) with medium-length black hair and a strongman moustache – wearing similar cured leather armor with the visible sleeves of a chainmail shirt beneath it. Unlike Alnitak, this man had a greatsword on his back. Following the two brothers was a third figure, a woman. She was a bit shorter than the brothers with black hair pulled into a tight, efficient ponytail. She wore the same cured leather armor with two shortswords at her hip. All three siblings wore iron Adventurer’s Plates.

“...you’re planning something.” The mustachioed man spoke to Alnitak as they entered, crossing the floor towards Amara’s general direction. “You’ve got that smirk on your face that says you’re plotting something, and you know I don’t like when you plot, brother.”

“You wound me, Alnilam! I may be planning something, but to call it ‘plotting’ is cruel! I’m just looking out for our future, is all.” Amara could tell instantly they were all related, the same black hair, the same chocolate eyes, and the same general features told her everything she needed to know – fraternal triplets.

“Let’s just hear him out, Alnilam... maybe it’s not as bad as you think?” The woman tried to be the mediator between the three, the moustachioed man scoffing a bit.

“You’re too caring, dear sister.” Alnitak caught Amara’s gaze and winked slyly at her as the two others traded quick words. He suddenly turned sharply towards Amara, the two others clearly surprised by the sudden change in direction. Alnitak approached Amara’s table and smiled to her.

“Your color seems to have returned, Oracle. I take it breakfast agreed with you?” Amara gave a gentle smile and a nod.

“Indeed. Good food fuels the soul just as much as it fuels the body.”

“Glad to hear it! Might we impose to sit with you?”

“Please, by all means.” Amara offered the trio the bench across from her. Alnilam was the next to speak up.

“Bothering random adventurers again, brother?”

“Bothering? Hardly. Random? Spare me.” He motioned to Amara. “Alnilam, Mintaka, I’d like for you to meet Oracle Amara Akusa. She and I have been talking about the possibility of adding her to our merry little band.”

“A demi-human?” Alnilam spoke, his tone and expression more surprised than anything else, his thumb and forefinger spreading out across his thick moustache as he thought.

“...oh my she’s adorable...” Mintaka gasped to herself as Alnilam sat.

“Isn’t she?” Alnitak beamed to his siblings. “Amara, I’d like to introduce you to my siblings – Alnilam, my brother-” Alnilam gave her a curt but polite nod. “-and our dear, sweet baby sister, Mintaka.”

“A pleasure to meet you all.” Amara stood and bowed formally to them.

“Oh my, she’s so polite, too!” Mintaka took a seat as she gazed at Amara.

“Amara’s one condition to possibly joining us was to meet us all face-to-face. I won’t pretend to know why, but I’m more than inclined to oblige her.” As the trio got settled in, Amara had answered the question as to why she wanted to meet them by triggering her Master’s Gaze, checking their average skill levels. All three glowed with a soft, blue aura. So, they were on par with Eclipse as far as raw talent and skill went.

“The reasoning for this is simple...” Amara spoke simply, folding her hands in front of her. “I am fond of getting to know potential work associates. My previous associates – Linder rest their souls – I had the chance to get to know in their natural habitat, as it were; in the fields outside E-Rantel. I thought we could use this opportunity to get to know one another.”

“A splendid idea! An interview, it is!” Amara nodded.

“Of a sort. I will reserve my questions for the end, and instead allow you to ask anything you might want to know.”

“May I start?” Alnilam lifted a finger, Amara nodding to him. “I apologize if this comes off as rude but... what are you? I know you’re a demi-human, but you’re definitely no goblin I’ve met, nor anything else for that matter...”

“I am Linderfolk. It surprises me little that you have not heard of me or my people. We have lived in seclusion for so very long, interacting with the outside world only when absolutely necessary.” She answered honestly, Alnilam nodding; seemingly satisfied by the answer.

“Thank you for not taking offense... I couldn’t think of a better way to phrase the question.” As Alnilam finished thanking her, Alnitak raised his hand a little.

“I only know what I’ve heard about you... about what happened in the graveyard... but I’d like to hear it from your mouth directly. What skillset do you possess?”

“A great many. I am – for fear of sounding arrogant – as apt with my sword as any Iron-Ranked Adventurer should be, but beside that, I am knowledgeable in a great number of beneficial spells as well.”

“So you are a magic caster.” Alnitak asked to clarify.

“I am an Oracle.” Amara answered simply. “I am afraid I do not fit into either ‘swordswoman’ or ‘magic caster’... yet can slip effortlessly into either.”

“Oracle... that sounds important.” Alnilam spoke idly, scratching his chin.

“Indeed. I am the voice of Linder to my village. He speaks to me in my dreams, and I pass His message to those who need it. In your terms, I am a priestess as well as a magic caster; but as defender of my village, I am also a warrior. It is a fine line Oracles must walk.”

“Wow... priestess, caster and warrior all rolled into one, huh?” Alnitak chuckled. “Even more impressive than I’d been led to believe.” Amara caught Mintaka’s hand flinching up a little, then dropping back to the table. After a split second, it went back up.

“U-uhm... may I ask a question?” Amara turned her attention fully to her and nodded.

“Of course, dear.” Mintaka’s cheeks flushed a touch red at being called ‘dear’; so much so that she nearly forgot her question.

“O-oh uhm...” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “If you don’t mind me asking... Oracle... sounds like a kind of person who... wouldn’t leave their people; not without good reason, at least.” Amara didn’t try to hide the smirk that came to her lips at the question. She was hoping one of them would have caught that.

“Indeed it is not. In fact, it is only something that happens in times of great need. Oracles only ever leave on quests that could mean the difference between life and death for the whole village. A village must always have an Oracle, so when one leaves, she must be replaced. And should the Oracle return... she will be Oracle no more.”

“So... you’re sacrificing your role?” Mintaka added in, Amara nodding. “...what would be so important you’d sacrifice everything for?”

“A good question, sister...” Alnitak chimed in, clearly playfully miffed that he hadn’t thought of that question.

“The continued existence of my village. Before I left, I suffered a vision from Linder; a vision that showed the death and destruction of my village. My people burned as a great evil I know only as ‘The Raven Death’ murdered everyone I had ever known or loved with no show of emotion. I left to seek aid for my village; to return with people strong enough to protect my village.”

“So...” Alnilam continued to elaborate. “If you were to join us... you’d ask us to help protect your people?”

“I would ask, but I would not require it. I know it seems daunting, but I knew that becoming an adventurer would be the best – and possibly only – way to secure enough help from the strongest people. But to do this... I must be willing to push myself and our group. Strong Adventurers – like the Blue Roses – would only deign to help if I paid them, and their services are far outside my budget. However, if I were to prove to be just as strong as them – if we could become as strong as them – then perhaps they would be more willing to listen.”

“Dad always used to say, a plea for help from a strong ally is far more genuine than one from a weak ally... I can see the wisdom in your words.” Alnilam nodded, twisting his moustache. Amara nodded to him.

“Your father sounds like a wise man.” Alnitak beamed at this.

“Not just that! Strong, too! Hell, if dad were a few decades younger, he might have helped too! Dad was a Platinum-Ranked Adventurer back in the day.” Mintaka nodded to Alnitak’s glowing review.

“Mm-hmm. It’s actually from him we got our party name... Orion Rigel is one of the most respected names in the Guild; but we want to stand out more than just ‘Orion’s Kids’.”

“I think that it is good to distinguish yourselves...” She shut her eyes for moment and nodded. “Now... I have one single question for you.” The three siblings looked to one another and nodded. “Knowing what you know now – about the Raven Death and my mission – do you still want me in your party?”

“I will freely admit it is a little much to take in... hypothetically, do you know how long we have before this ‘Raven Death’ of yours arrives?”

“I cannot give an exact number... but I am certain it will be close to ten years.” Mintaka visibly relaxed at this figure, Alnilam nodding.

“Well, that’s some time, at least.” Alnilam stroked his moustache again. “Most adventurer parties don’t make it past ten years... but for what it’s worth, you’ve got my support.” Alnitak nodded to his brother’s observation.

“The only control a man has in his life is how he dies. Choosing how to die, is choosing how to live. You’ve got my support, too.”

“A woman who gave up everything to save her people...” Mintaka mused idly to herself. “...it would be so romantic if it weren’t so sad...” Amara just smiled at her words.

“To be fair, in my experience, the sadder a story the more romantic it becomes.”

“Does that mean you’ll be joining us, Oracle?” Amara dipped her head into a nod.

“If you will still have me.”

“If we’ll have her, she says. Of course!” Alnitak held his hand out to her. “Welcome to the team!” Amara went down the line of the three siblings and shook their hands in order to officiate her joining of the team. Though she smiled outwardly, she couldn’t help being brought back to her last life... this wasn’t the first time she had lost – and promptly replaced – friends, nor did she think for a moment it would be the last. But this time? Oracle Amara Akusa had a few things that set her more than a dozen rungs higher on the scale of ‘ability to do sh*t’ than the Angel of Death did.

Chapter 10: Intermission: The Angel of Death

Chapter Text

“Cherry Crush, top row.” The woman beside her – a pair of binoculars plastered to her eyes – rambled off. Lying on her stomach with the heavy sniper rifle tucked tightly to her shoulder, the single crimson eye scanned the small tug boat anchored off the coast – if her sightings were any hint, it must have been seven hundred meters off into the ocean – with a collection of soda bottles arranged on three tiers of wooden planks. She scanned the bottles – the labels far too small to see from here – before her crosshairs fell on an inconspicuous bottle on the top row and without even bothering to think, she fired a shot to the top and left of the bottle. The rifle bucked and barked loudly, the BMG round sailing through the air for a solid two seconds before the glass bottle exploded into a shower of glass and red-colored soda. “Good shot, confirmed kill.” The woman with the binoculars cracked a little smile.

“Damn waste of good soda, if you ask me...” She answered the other woman, pulling the bolt back on her sniper rifle and ejecting the white-hot spent shell casing before racking another shot. “C’mon Monika. Give me a hard one.” Monika – the woman with the binoculars laughed gently to herself without even removing the binoculars.

“Mmmm.... kay...” As Monika found her next target, a dull wind played with the sniper’s short-cut dirty orange-blonde hair; her breathing measured and slow to keep her aim rock steady. “Zero Sugar Diet Pepsi.” Monika finished, a crass little smile on her lips. Monika’s binoculars were much more powerful than the scope on her partner’s rifle, so she had a clearer picture of what soda bottles were out there.

“You cheeky bitch...” The sniper chided her spotter, scanning the assorted bottles. “You know damn well I can’t tell the difference between zero sugar and zero sugar diet even when I’m holding the damn bottles...” Monika nodded to her complaint.

“You did say to give you a hard one.” Monika smirked before adding it. “But they do look far too similar for their own good.”

“Can you at least tell me what row to look on?”

“Nope. Figure it out yourself, Angel.” ‘Angel’ wasn’t the sniper’s name, but instead her nickname. Don’t let the heavenly nature of the nickname fool you, it was short for ‘Angel of Death’. Angel scanned the rows of bottles – each little more than a random remix of colors and vague shapes set against the dull brown sky – as she tried to pick out the zero sugar diet Pepsi among everything else. She breathed a steady stream of hot air out the side of her mouth as she scanned, a frustrated tick that wasn’t lost on Monika. “C’mon, Angel. You can blow a man’s leg off from eight hundred meters while he’s in a dead sprint, don’t tell me you can’t tell Zero Sugar Diet from Zero Sugar normal-” Her playful bickering was interrupted by the sniper rifle bucking and barking its loud cry as another bullet flew through the air. Monika watched as the bottle she was sighted in on exploded. “Good shot, confirmed kill.” Angel pulled away from the scope of her rifle and exhaled.

“You know as well as I do, movement is easier to pick up... plus with our VABs, it’s easy to tell our guys from the bad guys.” Monika lowered her binoculars finally, blinking her dull emerald eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She looked down and upturned her wrist to look at her watch. “...we should probably start heading towards the mess... boss’ll be back before long.”

“...I hate this...” Angel mused, pushing herself up from her prone stance and into a sitting position on the ground, her legs crossed under her. Something jingled loudly from Angel’s shoulder, neck and hip; metal objects – hundreds of them – scraping against the asphalt. Pulling the bolt back, she ejected the spent casing before pulling the magazine out of her rifle and closing the bolt, securing it for transport. Just to be certain she pulled the trigger to discharge the pin, the rifle making a subtle ‘click’ as the pin struck air. Slipping the half-empty magazine into the satchel at her side, she stood up and threw her rifle strap over her shoulder, letting the weapon sit on her back.

“What part? Shooting bottles or-”

“No. No, that part’s fun as hell. I mean this whole turnover rate.” Angel turned her gaze out to the ocean that surrounded their little slice of heaven out in the middle of the Indian Ocean – an old oil rig that her company had bought almost twenty years ago when she was still a fresh-faced eighteen year old – and took a deep breath of the salted air. “Hardly no one who was here when I joined is still alive, and most of these new kids don’t last long enough for me to remember their f*cking names...” Monika’s gaze turned to the heavy chain on Angel’s waist, hundreds of small metal tags – dog tags – dangled from the chain and slapped against one another and her hip.

“-Hence the memorial.” Monika continued, her gaze turning up to Angel again, who simply nodded.

“...hyeah...” She huffed and agreed. “Anyway... come on, I’m gonna go hop a shower before bossman gets back.” Monika stood, letting her binoculars fall to her chest, the strap holding them around her neck.

“You uh... you want some company?” Monika asked, Angel pausing fully as she processed the question.

“...nah...” Angel shook her head. “Sorry I... depression’s acting up again Monika...” Monika just smiled at her and nodded.

“That’s okay. I understand.” Monika took two steps towards Angel and put her arms around her, kissing her neck. “Just know I’m here for you, darling.” Angel smiled, putting her hand on Monika’s, which were wrapped about her waist.

“...thanks Monika. You’re a peach.” Releasing her, Monika took a step back and watched Angel walk off the helipad they were on and back into the main facility of the rig.

This oil rig in the middle of the Indian Ocean was the home base of the Death’s Head Mercenary Company; a multi-national group of soldiers of fortune that had been in every major conflict the world had over the last thirty years. While the leadership – those who weren’t sent on missions – were mostly of American descent, there were soldiers from all over the world. Spain, the Commonwealth of Europe, the People’s New Communist Republic of Russian, the Dead Amazons... pretty much everywhere. Monika – for example – was one of their few Japanese members. Japan had managed to – somehow – remain neutral in a lot of the wars that had ravaged the world of late... though that’s not to say they didn’t feel the effect of them. Angel walked into the communal barracks and leaned her gun – Amara – up against the wall by her bed. She had always liked the name, and even used it in her off-duty life as her player character in this niche MMO she plays, even today. Several members of her company were relaxing in the barracks at this point – some playing hand-held video game consoles, some reading, others listening to music – but Angel didn’t bother hiding as she began to undress. It wasn’t necessarily because she had no shame – she didn’t - but no one in this unit was willing to risk the rumors being true.

Everyone knew Angel’s true name. It was always written on deployments, it was on the plaque that denoted her bed (though that plaque was currently covered by a sticky note that just read ‘ANGEL’ in neat handwriting) and any time anyone had to deliver messages to her from high-command, her name was neatly printed on the paper. It wasn’t that no one knew her name, or that she asked everyone to call her ‘Angel’... in fact she hated the name. She hated it, because it made her sound like a better person than she was. No, everyone knew her name... but no one had the balls to speak it aloud.

“Don’t say her name!” One man in the company slapped his hand across a new recruit’s mouth as she called out to her about three months ago. “You idiot, don’t you know the rumors!?” The new recruit just shook her head. “We don’t speak her name... we don’t let that cursed name leave our lips... they say that...” The older member looked around and lowered his voice. “They say anyone who hears or says her name is doomed to die. Look-” He drew the young recruit’s attention to the heavy chain about her waist, the hundreds of dog tags clattering and jingling gently as she walked away. “...see those?” The recruit nodded. “...the dog tags of everyone who’s ever spoken her name aloud. She carries them as a warning...”

This of course was superstitious nonsense. She didn’t carry the dog tags of her fallen comrades as a warning; she carried them as a reminder, a reminder to herself. A reminder of everyone she’s ever known who’s died in this stupid line of work. And the worst part was... the tags on her hip? Were only a third of all the tags she carried. Another chain – weighed down by another three to five hundred dog tags – hung off her uniform’s right shoulder epaulet, clattering and jingling merrily as she walked. And past that, another hung around her neck with another one hundred and nine (one hundred and ten if you count her own, which was on a separate, smaller chain). When everything was said and done – not including the dog tags of her fallen comrades – Angel, the Angel of Death, boasted a kill count that was six hundred and eighty nine strong... and she carried every single one of those kills with her every day.

She left her clothes on her bed and walked across the barracks to the bathroom. No one spared more than a glance at her. Everyone knew better than to make any snide comments towards her. No one even so much as spoke to her, unless they were required to. Of the active-duty, front-like soldiers, the Angel of Death was the oldest of the company – age-wise and in how many tours of duty she’s survived. Even their current field commander had been promoted to that after the original’s death two years after the Angel of Death joined. Everyone feared the Angel of Death in their own unique way. Besides that... she’s sent enough men to medical with broken legs or busted balls where everyone knew not to hit on her. The only person who had the chutzpah to talk to Angel was her spotter, Monika... and it was no secret the two of them f*cked on the regular.

The feeling of being dirty never left Angel, no matter how long she showered or how much soap she used. The rumors about that seemed to state that she could always see blood on her hands, a memento from everyone she’s killed past the dog tags... a memento she didn’t take willingly. It was the only rumor Angel herself believed. She showered quickly, as she always did; washing her dirty orange-blonde hair, scrubbing her light-tan skin and trying her best to let the stress of her life melt down the drain. Once she was convinced she had gotten all the dirt she could off of her, she killed the shower and dried herself off, redressing in a simple black sports bra and matching underwear, retrieving her combat harness – where all her trophies and memories were hanging – and slipped it on. She had to make a good impression for the new kids... and she had a grim curiosity to see how long it took someone to try to squeeze her real name out of her.

Their leader – a man most just called ‘Bossman’ liked to make a show of introducing the new blood to their unit themselves. And today... it had been Angel’s unit he had gone recruiting for. “Helicopter Incoming: ETA, three minutes. Raven Squad, report to briefing. Repeat, Raven Squad to briefing.” Raven Squad was the name of her unit. It was comprised of four points of infantry, a point of scouts, and a single two-man sniper team – Angel and Monika, naturally. Today, they were replacing two of their infantry points, on account that an ambush had killed them (after which Angel punished the ambushers).

She didn’t see the point in going, really... her deployment was only supposed to be for four months, and she had only two weeks left to go before she would be back home in American and back on YGGDRASIL, the only thing she spent her days doing when she wasn’t working. YGGDRASIL was a Japanese game, a full-dive MMO with an impressive level of character customization. It made no sense to anyone who knew Angel in her off-duty life (the only people who seemed immune to the ‘Angel’s Curse’) why a woman who took lives for a living would play a woman so focused on helping and healing people. Regardless of how you looked at it, there wasn’t a single similarity between the Angel of Death, and Oracle Amara Akusa – her in-game avatar. Regardless of if she saw the point or not, she decided to sit in on the meeting anyway.

She sat on the cold metal seat as people filed in. Most paid her little mind while some of the newer members offered her a curt, quick nod in welcome. She was one of the few people in the entire company that everyone knew. Monika came in a moment later and took the seat next to Angel, kissing her softly. “...you smell nice...” Monika complimented her, causing Angel to smile.

“Thank you... I needed that.” Angel responded with a little smile. She always enjoyed when Monika would kiss her and tell her she looked nice or smelled nice... it was good to be reminded that under those six-pack abs, that hardened killer stare and dead-fish crimson eyes... that she was still a woman deep down. But the most frustrating thing of all? Even Monika – who openly denied the rumors surrounding Angel’s true name were even true – refused to use it.

As the last of the men and women piled in, another door opened to allow the sound of a helicopter’s rotors spinning down flood the room. The man who entered was big and muscular – a real Arnold Schwarzenegger looking motherf*cker – with short-cut brown hair and a no-nonsense chiseled face. Despite this, he offered the group a smile. “Damn, I love when my boys and girls operate like a well-oiled machine!” He smiled brightly, putting both fists on his hips. The group of soldiers stood and saluted. “At ease, everyone. Raven Squad, I’d like to introduce you to your newest squad mates.” He flicked his wrist over his shoulder, signaling a group of eight people – five men and three women – to line up beside him. He began to introduce them by name, but as he started, Angel tuned him out. Half of these kids wouldn’t last their first deployment.

“And now... I’m afraid there’s been a bit of bad news.” This deviation from his usual script brought Angel back to the present, fixating her crimson eyes on him. “I know a lot of you were under the impression that we’d only be out here for four months this time... cleaning up a lot of the issues with the East Malaysian Cartels... but something’s come up.” A rumble of ‘f*ck!’s and ‘goddamnit!’s rolled off everyone’s lips at this. Everyone knew that when ‘something came up’ someone got into another pissing contest with someone else, and one of the two sides had hired them to fix it. “I know, I know... I promised you four months... but I don’t think I’ll be able to deliver. Raven Squad, you’ll be deployed in four days to Prague for-”

“Four days!?” Angel blurted out. “Sir, that’s...” She tried to protest, citing that she had promised her YGGDRASIL guild she’d be back after four months. They promised not to dismiss her for inactivity for those four months, but if she was gone too much longer, they’d definitely ditch her. She couldn’t afford to start with a new guild, she liked her current guild. She struggled, trying to protest in a way that didn’t sound – to the casual observer – as asinine. “...can’t we delay deployment for a week? I’d... really like to stop off at home and let my mom know I’m okay.” Only a half lie. Her mom didn’t - nor had she ever – care for what she did with her life, but she still liked checking in with her on occasion, as fruitless as an endeavor as it was.

“’Fraid not, Angel. Four days was all I could negotiate for with the client... apparently things are going south fast and they need us yesterday.”

“Well... can’t... can’t Franz take over sniping for a bit? You’ve been saying he needs practice so-”

“I need my A-Team, Angel, no can do.” See, this wouldn’t have been a problem if she was allowed to bring her Dive Cradle on the Rig with her, but it was simply too big; requiring damn near a full room to itself. Angel struggled for another way to protest, but finally settled on.

“...how long are we looking at?”

“You know as well as I that I can’t put an ETA on that... but we’re looking at several more months at the least.” Angel felt her heart sink. She’d be kicked out for certain, and with no way to contact anyone in the Guild – partially because they’re all locked into an NDA about the specifics of their job (as it was a safety concern) she couldn’t just call one of the two people she had contact information for, nor could she connect to the internet to send an email. They were practically isolated out here in the Indian Ocean, so the only entertainment they got was whatever could be a physical media, and didn’t require an internet connection. “I’m sure your mom’ll be fine without you checking in for a bit longer.”

“...yes sir...” She nodded.

“Now, enough doom and gloom. You’re all dismissed.” The new recruits began to disperse and chat with several members... but Angel couldn’t be assed. She slinked off to the barracks to get some rest. As she cleared her bed off, she looked up at the sticky note covering her name plaque. Reaching up, she pulled the sticky note off and ran a hand over the engraved plaque. The Angel of Death’s true name...

Clementine Morrison. Once... just once... just f*cking once... she wants someone to call her by her name. She doesn’t even care if she’s the one the ‘Angel’s Curse’ claims... she just wants to be human again. To feel human again.

Chapter 11: Opportunities and Offers

Chapter Text

Everything hurt. It felt like every bone in her body had been broken and then glued back together all wrong. Her mouth was like a desert, her tongue, lips and teeth all sticking together as the distinct iron taste of blood backed up every pained swallow she took. She smacked her lips together to try to pry her tongue from the roof of her mouth and the inside of her lips from her teeth. She never was much one for snoring... so why did it feel like she’s been sucking air through a tube for the past few days? Getting her hands under her, she pushed herself up, her dirty orange-blonde hair bobbing in front of her face for a moment before she shook her head and looked around.

Her surroundings were... strange. A one-room wooden cottage in the middle of a sparse forest, sunlight streaming in through the canopies of the trees and beaming through the window off to her side. Her muscles complained as she pushed herself up off the floor and into a sitting position. A chill raced across her body, and upon wrapping her arms around herself to stave off the chill, found herself wearing nothing save for a most dissatisfied frown. “...the hell...?” She muttered, her voice coarse and low. “...okay think...” She muttered again, closing her eyes and resting her head on her palm, trying to remember the events that lead to her being here.

Her mind was a complete blank, no memory of how she got here, what her last actions were... hell, she couldn’t even remember her own name. Whenever she tried to remember anything, a spike of discomfort raced through her head. Putting that to the backburner for a moment, she gae one final push to stand, her feet finding the well-carpented wood floor agreeable despite the chill in her body. The cabin wasn’t anything too fancy; four walls, a ceiling and a floor, a door set into one wall and windows in the middle of the other three. Finding her balance, she walked to the window across from the door and gazed out into the forest. The sun hurt her eyes, causing her to close them and massage the bridge of her nose. When she opened her eyes next, there would be a figure standing next to a tree about fifty meters away.

The figure was a tall, elegant man in a stark crimson suit, his ears long and pointed to the side like the Drow were want to... but his skin was far too light to be Drow. His short black hair was spiked almost straight up, and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of round glasses. He reached up with a gloved hand and pushed his glasses up with his middle finger on the bridge of them; his other hand behind his back. As she stared at the man – curious if he could see her – she watched a long tail sweep gently out from behind the tree he stood next to, a thick, club-like end with six spines on it. Definitely no Drow she’s ever seen, that’s for certain. She rubbed her eyes again, the dry air playing havoc on them and when she opened them again, he was gone. The hell? Had she imagined the dapper man in the crimson suit? Or was he some kind of magic caster? Shaking her head, she turned for the door, only to see the man standing in the small room a few feet from her.

“Hah-!” She gasped, stumbling back and falling to her butt against the wall.

“I see you’re awake. Excellent.” The man spoke in a dignified, measured tone. Both his hands were folded politely behind his back as his tail swished gently behind him. Even this close, she couldn’t see his eyes behind his glasses; which seemed to glow from the reflection of the sun. She instantly covered herself to the best of her ability, the dapper man in the suit just smiling slightly at her attempt. “I would concern yourself with more pressing matters than your dignity.” He continued, his gaze unmoving from her face. “Can you speak?”

“...barely...” She responded, her voice returning stronger and stronger now that her throat wasn’t a desert. “...who are you?”

“My name is unimportant.” The man continued. “If you must have a moniker to address me... you could call me your Warden.” He remained unmoving, simply standing in front of the door with his hands behind his back. “Tell me... do you remember anything?” She tried to wrack her mind to answer the Warden’s question... but the only thing that came to her mind was another headache.

“...no.” She shook her head. “...everything’s a... a blur.” The man just gave a simple nod.

“Yes, that tends to happen when one remains dead as long as you were.”

“...dead...?” She asked, looking herself over for wounds. “...I was dead?”

“For several days, yes.” The man answered, his lips never leaving the slight smile they had curled into. She put her hand to her forehead again.

“...who am I? Where am I?” The Warden pushed his glasses up once more with a practiced, methodical motion.

“The answer to your first question would eliminate the purpose of my Lord’s experiment... as for the second... well. You’re... here.”

“That doesn’t help me.”

“It is all you need to know. Our experiment is not quite ready to begin... so for the meantime, I am afraid I will have to ask you to remain here for a time.” She looked around the small cabin. The only furniture in the room was a small square table, a single wooden chair and a rough bed in one corner.

“You... want me to stay here? How long?”

“I don’t know. Until we are ready for you.” The Warden crooked his head to the side. “If you are worried about sustenance, do not. You will be provided food during your stay.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” She barked, her throat rebelling at the sudden tonal shift. “Ngh...” She put her hand on her throat and swallowed.

“You should rest your voice. I will return later to check on you.” Without a further word, the Warden blurred and vanished, the room growing colder from his absence. She shivered once more.

Demiurge reappeared before Ainz, bowing in a grandiose fashion before his Lord. “My Lord-” He began with a flourish. “Your prisoner in the Forest of Illusion is awake. Her tenure as a corpse has been unkind to her memories... she seems to be suffering from amnesia.” Ainz – who was in his usual spot on Nazarick’s throne – grunted and stroked his chin.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” He answered after a moment. “It is a well-known fact that a body atrophies after a resurrection, and the longer the body has been dead, the more severe the atrophy. Since the mind is a muscle, it would make more sense than it wouldn’t for it to suffer similarly.” He rested his arm on the armrest of his chair. “Demiurge... tell me something?”

“My Lord?” He acknoweldged, Ainz rapping his boney fingers on the chair’s armrest.

“Do you know why I brought her back? Why I instructed her to be resurrected days after we recovered her body?”

“While I would never pretend to understand the machinations of your brilliant mind, My Lord, it is my humble guess that you wished to test the extent of a resurrection’s atrophy. If she has forgotten who she is, has she forgotten how to fight? Has she weakened to a point where a normal person could overcome her? If we can understand how resurrection works and the toll it places upon the human body; we can feasibly understand if there may be similar tolls on our own bodies, should the need for one of your servants to be returned to life.”

“Hmmm...” Ainz gave a single, mirthless laugh at Demiurge’s words. “Perceptive as always, Demiurge. Yes, I wish to understand the effects resurrection has upon the creatures of this world. While her power paled in comparison to mine – and certainly to any of Nazarick’s Guardians – Clementine was strong, by this world’s standards... perhaps one of if not the strongest, given the proper circ*mstances. She easily overpowered four Iron-Rank Adventurers and killed them without them hardly being able to defend themselves... On top of what you already said... Clementine proved to be a staunch supporter of the entertainment value of torture; and while her most recent targets...” He paused for a moment, searching for the proper words. “...had potential...” He would never openly admit to them being friends... in fact, he was certain if any of the Swords of Darkness had discovered his true identity, they would have been far from courteous to him... but regardless, he felt something for them... even if it was an emotion more akin to what one would show a favored pet. “...I wish to see if her mind and body can resist what she so readily doles out.”

“Ah! So wise, My Lord! Does one’s physical strength also translate to their mental fortitude! A plan so devious yet so simple only one of the mighty Forty One Supreme Beings could think of it!” He smiled broadly, his toothy grin bringing a measure of joy to Ainz; a measure which was quickly quelled. “I will continue to keep tabs on the subject, My Lord. When I am not present, an Eight-Edged Assassin shall fill the role for me. She will not be without surveillance for a moment.”

“Good. For now, keep her in there... in a few days, we’ll... let her out to run, as it were.” Demiurge bowed in response. “In the meantime, request Sebas send Solution Epsilon undercover in E-Rantel with the instruction to keep her eye out for possible fodder subjects for our guest. She is to keep watch for those who will not be missed – the homeless, the destuit and the poor – and under no circ*mstances is she to target Adventurers.”

“I will pass the message along, My Lord.” Ainz nodded to him.

“Thank you, Demiurge. You are dismissed.”

“At once, My Lord!” He bowed deeply to Ainz, and with a curt turn, left the Throne Room. Ainz was left to his one devices one more time, thinking back on what Demiurge had said.

“...He’s either far more creative than he gives himself credit for... or the straws he grasps at just happen to make sense... and I don’t know what’s worse...”

For the first time since she arrived here, Amara found herself unable to sleep. She hadn’t really thought about the ‘Angel’s Curse’ since her arrival; as all thoughts of a work-related nature tend to stop when she’s off duty. Even with the clarity of hindsight, Amara couldn’t really see why she had chosen this life... maybe she should specify? Clementine Morrison – the Angel of Death – was a mercenary; a sniper who took lives for a living. Rumors circulated around her that even so much as hearing her real name spoken aloud would bring doom to a man. Six hundred and eighty-nine people – most of whom probably didn’t deserve it – had been killed by her hand.

Her old world was not a world that loved men. Overpopulation, high pollution and government instability the world over had led to men and women like Clementine Morrison being in high demand. In a way, the Angel of Death thought that if she lived in a world that didn’t love men, she’d play in a world that did. Yes, YGGDRASIL had rampant racism against demi-human and heteromorphic races, yes a great many people fought and killed each other for arbitrary things like ‘experience’ and ‘items’... but YGGDRASIL was a better world than the one she lived in; hands down. She saw it as redemption. If she helped enough people, spread enough kindness, eased enough troubles, brought enough smiles to enough faces... she could redeem herself.

She never was a woman of faith, not in her old world at least. If God did exist in that world, he certainly wasn’t paying attention to what his creations were doing... or didn’t care. Men and women prayed to a god that didn’t give a sh*t about them... and women like who Amara used to be were the reason for it. And don’t get the notion that most of the people the Angel of Death killed died quickly. Oh no... she had a whole system worked out.

She had figured out pretty early that the living wouldn’t give two sh*ts about the dead. People died in war, that’s what happened... but the wounded? The dying? Oh, they tried to save them. So the Angel of Death had turned their compassion for their fellow man against them. She’d catch one out of cover and fire, hitting him in the leg and causing him to fall, to cry out in pain. A leg shot like that would be fatal in a few minutes, she knew this... and so too did his comrades. So they would try to help the fallen soldier. One guy in a field, no cover to be seen, writhing in pain and crying for help. Another would work up the courage to help him, and make a dash for the man and-

Bang. He’d go down. You’d think they’d learn eventually, but they never did. One by one – like drug-addled NPCs – they'd run out of cover to try to save one of their own... only to get shot for their efforts. One of her squadmates had called it ‘torture’... and if the Geneva Convention was still around, she’d agree with them. Torture one to draw out a dozen more. She wasn’t proud of it, necessarily... but it worked.

She closed her eyes and pushed the memories of her old life out of her mind. She wasn’t that woman anymore. She wasn’t that emotionless, hardened killer that had taken more lives than people she had ever known in hers. She wasn’t the kind of person who could watch men she had spoken to not hours before get torn apart by machinegun fire and not even blink, not anymore. She wasn’t the Angel of Death anymore. The Angel of Death was lying dead on a Dive Cradle in a run-down New York apartment most like... an inglorious death for a terrible woman. A calm washed over her, a familiar warmth she felt whenever she would pray to Linder. At first, it had been out of a sick sense of engagement... to fully embrace the life of the character she had created twelve years ago. But anymore, each time she offered a prayer to that deity she still wasn’t a hundred percent certain was even there... she felt a hand on her shoulder and warmth in her heart... as though Linder Himself was telling her that He was real... that He was watching.

A knock came to her door, knocking her out of her trance. Sitting up in bed and blinking away the film over her eyes, she cleared her throat lightly to speak. “Yes?” She spoke simply, staring at the door.

“Ah-” A little voice came through the door. “S-sorry Aaaah-Amara... did I wake you?” It was Mintaka who spoke, causing a smile to cross Amara’s lips.

“No, dear... a moment.” She stood and quickly dressed in her robe and slipped her geta back on before walking over to the door and opening it. The dim light from the inn’s hallway spilled into her dark room and illuminated Mintaka’s face, who smiled gently. “Good evening. Is something amiss?” Amara asked, Mintaka chuckling a little.

“That’s what I was going to ask... you got distant and retired to bed rather suddenly... I was worried we might have offended you...”

“Oh! Oh, no. No no no.” Amara shook her head, smiling. “Nothing of the sort, I apologize for making you think this.” She moved out of the way and invited Mintaka in. She was still in her room from before, and it was a conversation about Amara sharing the larger inn room that Orion’s Belt had that had been the last she spoke to the trio of siblings. “Please, make yourself comfortable.” Mintaka dipped her head in thanks and stepped in, taking a seat on the chair near the corner of the room. “I apologize I just... had some things come to mind that disturbed me.” She tried to find a way to explain without going into too much detail.

“May I ask about what? If it worries you, I’d like to hear... it might make you feel better.” Detail, it would appear, as though she was forced to go into anyway. Oh sure, she could have just said ‘I’d rather not talk about it’ and she was confident Mintaka wouldn’t argue... but something told Amara that talking about it might help. She had been alone in her last life... she didn’t have to be alone in this one.

“Well...” Amara began, taking a seat on the bed. She began to think of a way to say what was on her mind without coming off like a complete nutjob. “Oracles are... cursed in a way. Our dreams are vivid and often prophetic... but sometimes they can be more. It is said among my people that Oracles are often reincarnated souls... souls who had died with regrets, and reborn as Oracles to put those regrets to rest.”

“So you... have memories of your past lives?” Amara smiled at Mintaka’s understanding of what she was trying to say.

“Yes. I do... and not all of them are pleasant.” She frowned a little. “One of those memories... resurfaced at dinner, and it put me out of sorts. I apologize about leaving so suddenly and with no warning but-”

“No, I understand.” Mintaka smiled, standing and going to sit next to Amara. She put a hand on her back and smiled. “We all have bad memories we want to forget... some are just worse than others.”

“And mine are among the worst.”

“May I... ask what specific memory you had?” Amara was glad Mintaka seemed to believe her off-the-cuff bullsh*t response. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, putting herself in the right mindset to tell of her last life.

“I... am on a battlefield. There are men and women all around me dying... my friends and comrades... but I am... indifferent to their suffering. I raise my bow and take aim, my arrow flies true and wounds a man on the other side. An ally of his rushes to his aid to help him and... as he does so I fire again, striking the second man and wounding him. Another tries to aid the wounded and...” Amara shakes her head. “Again and again and again and again I wound to draw more and more out... and when more than a dozen lie bleeding and in agony – their comrades aware of my tactics and unable to do anything but hear their cries of pain – I... watch them die. Slow, painful deaths.”

“...gods...” Mintaka covered her mouth in shock. Of course, this was a true event, but details had been changed to make it more believable to someone who had no idea what a sniper rifle was. Amara looked down at her hands and clenched them into fists.

“...and sometimes, I look down at my hands and... I can still see the blood. Even though I know that these are reflections of my soul and not of my living deeds I... I still feel as though it is me.”

“But it’s not you.” Mintaka spoke with certainty. “I know I’ve only just met you and... and honestly don’t know a whole lot about you but... you don’t strike me as a woman who would do such horrible things.” Amara shook her head.

“I am not. The very thought disgusts me... and yet, I cannot deny that I have-”

“That who you were had in the past... not who you are now. My brothers have always been good judges of character. They can spot a fake smile miles away... can tell when a person is being duplicitous or lying and... they have nothing but great things to say about you. How kind you are, how talented, how strong.” Amara gave a light chuckle.

“I thought you said you do not know a lot about me...”

“I don’t... but I heard what happened at the cemetery. I can tell you’re kind, because an unkind person wouldn’t had gone to the lengths you did, and a weak person wouldn't have survived if they had gone.” Mintaka gently rubbed her back. “I know that... I have no right to say so as it is not me who is cursed so but... please do not let the sins of your past life dim the brightness of this one.” Amara smiled at her.

“You are kind to say so Mintaka. I will strive to do so.” Mintaka’s smile – and her hand upon Amara’s upper back – lingered for a time longer than Amara thought it really should have... but it didn’t bother Amara. Her people were a physical people and she had gotten used to Hikari’s lingering touches and perhaps overly-long hugs... but she didn’t expect to find such a thing in humans.

“Now... you got up in the middle of dinner... you must still be hungry.” Her stomach grumbled a little at hearing Mintaka mention food, Amara smiling wryly that her body had betrayed her so.

“...now that you mention it, I am a touch hungry.” Gently patting her back, Mintaka stood and motioned Amara to follow her.

She wouldn’t be that person anymore. The realization that Clementine Morrison was probably dead in her Dive Cradle had told Amara something she always knew, but had always been reluctant to admit to herself: She may have memories of her life as the Angel of Death... may still regret her life choices... but she understood that unlike Amara, Clementine didn’t have the luxury of choice. She grew up in a world that didn’t love mankind and had done the best she could to survive. Survival, of course, being an intergal part of humanity. So. She would remember, she would thank Clementine Morrison for her sacrifice... but she would let it cloud her mind no more. Mintaka and Amara returned to the ground floor of the inn – a tavern, as most Inns were – to find Alnilam and Alnitak cheering her return.

“There’s our Oracle! Sorry if we offended.” Alnitak apologized for nothing, Amara just shaking her head.

“As I informed Mintaka, I promise you both it was nothing you said. I was just thinking too long on something I should not have even spared a thought for. I will explain in due time, but in the meantime I will simply leave it at ‘I am at peace now’ and continue with my life.”

“That sounds like a wise decision.” Alnilam nodded, stroking his moustache flat against his upper lip. “While you two were having your little chat, Alnitak picked up a job for us. Shouldn’t be too difficult of a job, all things considered... but we figured it would be a fine time for Amara to see what we’re capable of... and for us to see what she is capable of as well.”

“A wonderful idea.” Amara smiled, sitting back down to her plate – her food now unfortunately cold – and began to eat once more. “Thank you for keeping my dinner... I have a terrible habit of not eating.” She laughed a little. “I have passed out in prayer more times than I care to mention.” The brothers got a laugh out of this.

“Don’t worry. Alnilam likes his food too much to let any of us skip meals.” Mintaka giggled, poking fun at her brother; who only beamed in pride.

“So, please do not keep us in the dark. What is this job you found?” Alnitak slid a paper across to Amara, who took it and read it.

‘Calling All Iron and Silver Adventurers: A merchant bound for Carne Village has requested an escort. Rumors of a Slane attack on Carne Village has left what few merchants who venture out there on edge. Due to the potential risk involved, payment is to include two healing potions each, as well as an increase in monetary compensation.’

“Escort duty, then.” Amara smiled as she pushed the paper back to Alnitak. “But what is this about an attack on Carne Village by Slane?”

“Ah, that...” Alnilam responded. “Don’t really know much about it... mostly hear-say and rumor. According to what I heard – and again, this is all rumor – but according to what I heard, a group of soldiers from the Slane Theocracy dressed as soldiers from Baharuth and attacked Carne Village for some reason. Most think it was to incite a quicker start to the Annual War with Baharuth; while other rumors state that it was an ambush to try to corner and murder the leader of the Royal Select.”

“Heh.” Alnitak chuckled. “I doubt Gazef would have been out in the middle of nowhere for no reason, brother. It’s more like than not that it was to spark the war. It’s no secret Slane dislikes Re-Estize, and any chance to weaken the kingdom would be welcome.” A pause. “Did these rumors of yours mention what happened at Carne? It’s obviously still in tact.” Alnilam shrugged.

“Well, the rumors of what happened are a might bit crazier than the rumors regarding the reason. They say that a single man took out the entire detachment of soldiers... including a Summoned Angel.”

“Bullsh*t.” Alnitak and Mintaka blurted out instantly, Amara blinking in a very confused fashion.

“If I were a betting woman-” Mintaka continued. “I’d say the whole rumor mill was started by Baharuth to distract us from the Annual Wars... get us to go to war with them.” She shook her head. “Honestly, Alnilam? A single man taking out an entire contingent of soldiers? An entire contingent with a Summoned Angel? No. Simply impossible.”

“I... seem to be horribly out of the loop.” Delilah had mentioned something about Slane possibly trying to destroy Carne Village a few days back... but details didn’t seem important at the time.

“Right, you’re not from around here... for all your talent and skill, I keep forgetting. So... Carne Village is a little nothing town – farming village mainly – on the border with Baharuth.” Alnitak explained. “It’s so close to the border, in fact, it’s been a major complaint from the Empire... they think every time Carne builds a new barn or home, they’re ‘encroaching on Imperial Territory’.”

“And this ‘Gazef’ fellow you mentioned?” Amara continued.

“The strongest warrior in the Kingdom!” Alnilam filled in. “Gazef Stronoff is the captain of the Kingdom’s Royal Select; a group of knights dispatched to solve issues that would fall outside the purview of normal soldiers or Adventurers.” Like Special Forces, then. Amara nodded as her stomach rumbled. She just ate, but hearing the man’s last name made her think of her mother’s stroganoff and now she was hungry again. She pushed this back down as the brothers continued. “As for the rumored Summoned Angel... there are reports that Slane is capable of summoning and binding what they call ‘angels’ to the will of a powerful caster. The leader of the Sunlight Scripture is rumored to be in possession of a crystal to summon a powerful Angel known as a Dominion Authority...” Amara hid the surprise this name caused her. Dominion Authority was a mid-tier summon from Miko that would summon a relatively powerful Angel under the command of the caster. It was popular to bolster the ranks of players actively fighting against undead monsters or players. Hell, Amara herself could summon one if she so chose, but decided to leave that out. If the Dominion Authority is considered a ‘powerful summon’ in this world...

She was never what she considered ‘strong’ in YGGDRASIL. She played the character she wanted to play, and was content in however strong or weak she was. It was why she liked her Guild so much... unlike other min/max Guilds on YGGDRASIL, the Crimson Crusaders were very supportive of players playing how they wanted. Granted, there were a few min/maxers in the Crusaders but... if that’s how they wanted to play, they were still technically in line with the Crusaders’ doctrine. If the Dominion Authority was considered a powerful summon here... She could easily be considered a goddess-given-flesh. And if she could be considered powerful...

She couldn’t hide the shudder that overtook her body at the thought of what some of YGGDRASIL’s min/max players could do in this world. Mintaka noticed the shudder overcome Amara and reached out to pat her back. “Don’t worry, Amara... I’m sure it’s just wild speculation.” She was under the impression the shudder was about the knowledge of Slane having a powerful summon on their hands, and Amara wasn’t about to correct her.

“Certainly.” Alnilam agreed with a nod. “Regardless though, we should be careful. I hate to sound like a terrible person but... true or not, panic in the common folk does lead to an increase in our available work; but we should at least be ready for anything.”

“When-” Amara swallowed the thought of what some of the upper-tier YGGDRASIL players could do back into her stomach. “-when do we leave?” She tried to get back on track, Alnilam nodding to her.

“That would be helpful, wouldn’t it? We’ve already relayed our interest to the Guild, and they’ll be letting the merchant know in the morning, so most likely we’re leaving late morning.”

“Carne Village is about a day’s ride by carriage, so I suspect we’ll have plenty of time to ourselves on the road.” Amara nodded and finished her dinner.

“So... Amara?” Mintaka spoke up again. “I know we brought it up earlier but... wouldn’t you rather stay with us? I know it can be daunting to sleep so close to perfect strangers... but it would keep us all in one place-”

“Sister dear... don’t bug the woman based on your own childish desires.” Alnitak smiled brightly to Mintaka, who puffed her cheeks out at him in frustration.

“I’m just saying! We’re better off being in one place, that way we’re not having to keep relaying information between two different groups!” A pause. “...and... it only makes sense... you’re part of our party, after all.” Amara laughed a little.

“Worry not, Mintaka. I have a few days left yet on my reservation, so when those expire, I will definitely consider joining you.” Besides... Amara knew a lovestruck kitten when she saw one. How Mintaka gazed at Amara was much the same way that Hikari used to. Though, the real reason for her hesitation was because she had liked to spend an hour or two sifting through her Item Box to see what she had stuffed in there, and she couldn’t exactly do that around others.

Chapter 12: To Carne Village!

Chapter Text

The following morning, Orion’s Belt met with their client; an elderly man who had made a tidy sum trading tools and other necessities out to the fringe towns. He definitely struck Amara as a shrewd, but fair merchant who saw his job as more than a chance to make more money. He didn’t even bat an eyelash when his escort included a Linderfolk, just smiling politely and thanking the four for their kindness.

“Don’t much know if the rumors about Carne are true-” The older man began as he snapped the reigns for his horse to start moving. “-but I’m not the kind’a man to take the risk.” He finished, nodding. “Rather have you lot around on the off chance things go wrong.” No one argued with him about that; Amara more than familiar with the ‘condom’ theory of protection.

“We understand.” Alnitak answered with a kind, warm smile. “We’ll be just as happy as you would be if this whole trip went down without a hitch.”

“Aye, I bet you would. Paid for doing nothing!” He punctuated this with a laugh that made Amara feel as though it was a joke. “I kid, of course. You kids are are just fine.” It was a covered wagon he drove. “’Fraid I only have room up here for one’a you... the other three’ll have to ride in the back, I’m afraid.”

“It’s no problem.” Alnilam responded.

“I will climb in back-” Amara had started to climb herself up when Alnilam spoke up.

“Nah, why don’t you sit up front with the nice man.” He mused. “The three of us can slum it back here.” Amara looked over the three, who only offered smiles and nods in response, before giving a nod of her own and circling around to the front.

“If you insist, it is hardly becoming of me to refuse.” Amara climbed herself up and sat next to the older man, who offered her a smile as the other three boarded the rear of the wagon and found seats among the goods. As Amara sat, the man snapped the reigns on the horses and began to trot out of E-Rantel.

Carne Village was a day by carriage from E-Rantel – the small village situated on the border with Baharuth – so the group was gifted a long, restful trip. Their driver didn’t seem too talkative, content to drive the wagon and keep his gaze plastered to the road ahead and the area around the road. Amara kept all her senses open to any sign of ambush or ill-will, all the while the siblings chatted lightly in the back. Near nightfall, the conversation of the siblings tapered off enough where Amara had figured they had dozed off to sleep.

“Good group you’ve gotten yourself with, Oracle.” The old man finally spoke, a light smile on his face. Amara returned the smile and looked at him.

“You know I am an Oracle?” She asked, genuinely surprised to see such knowledge in a mere merchant.

“Oh yes.” He nodded. “Not many’a yer kind leave yer forests... must’a been a grand undertaking that brought you out...” Amara’s face flickered into a quick frown which was replaced by a light smile shortly afterwards.

“You could say that, yes.” She responded. “Have you met many Linderfolk in your life?”

“Many? No. Once, a long time ago, I had been a soldier in the Re-Estize army... did’ja know that?” Amara just shook her head, the man smiling. “Don’t surprise me none... don’t look like a soldier at all. This must’a been... twenty? Twenty five years ago?” He shook his head, laughing to himself. “Don’t much matter anymore. Anyway, I was a soldier way back when, durin’ one’a the Annual Wars. We’d routed Baharuth and forced ‘em into a retreat into the woods. My commander gave me an’ fifteen other men orders to follow them and... make sure they didn’t come out.” He waved a hand gently. “Now, don’ get me wrong girl... I don’t much like the idea’a cuttin’ a man down in mid retreat but... orders are orders, ya know?” Amara nodded. “Anyhow... didn’t have much time to think’a the morality of it. We followed ‘em into the woods, only t’ find a whole contingent of ‘em... they’d led us into a trap. Most’a mah men were cut down... one’r two managed to escape and report back but... I caught a sword in the gut an’ was fixin’ to bleed out.” He took a deep breath and lifted his tunic, showing a nasty scar in his stomach.

“You are lucky to be alive... that cannot have been a superficial blow...” Amara mused, looking at the nasty scar on both sides of his abdomen.

“Aye, right you are... would’a died if it hadn’t been fer’a stroke’a luck. Just before Baharuth began checkin’ for survivors, a shrill call echoed through the trees what sent the Empire troops scatterin’ to the winds. Sounded like a demon...” Amara nodded. “Faded in and outta consciousness for a while but... after I came to, I woke up in a village’a yer kind... a young auburn-haired woman was tendin’ to my wounds. Young woman dressed just like you.” Amara smiled again.

“It would appear as though you had gotten very lucky indeed.” The man nodded and rolled his tunic back down.

“Never got th’ lass’ name... but the elder of the village said it was their Oracle... that she foresaw the battle and sent some’a the younger ones to scatter the Imperials an’ collect survivors... I was the only one. ‘Course, I was far too old at the time to be of much use to ‘em... Yer Butai, I believe they’re called?” Amara nodded. “Aye, that’s the one. And they didn’t want my money, so I was kind’a lost on a way to repay their kindness...” He smiled. “What I’m tryin’a get at is... I’ve got a child out there somewhere... one who probably don’ know they’re father.”

“You fell in love.” Amara mused to him, the old man chuckling roughly.

“That’s puttin’ it lightly, girl. The Oracle’s right-hand... a beautiful black-haired woman with the kindest blue eyes... she took care’a me when the Oracle couldn’t. We talked... we bonded over the few weeks I was there and... on the night I was to leave she... took me to her bed.” He shook his head. “S’why I became a merchant... hoped one day I could find that woman again...”

“That is a very sweet story. Do you happen to know the name of the village?”

“Pah... nah... I was half-delirious the whole time, and half-convinced it was a fever dream... I know it was a small village – maybe thirty-somethin' people? More’n that, I couldn’t tell ya.”

“Perhaps you will meet her again. I will pray Linder gives you a sign.”

“Right kind’a you, Oracle... and a damn sight more than this old man deserves... but I thank you nonetheless.” He inhaled as he settled more into his chair. “Suppose what I’m sayin’ is... those kids back there should be damned lucky to count you in their number.”

“And I am lucky to have met them. They are kind people.”

“The girl’s got the same glint in her eye that the Oracle’s hand had back then when she looks at you.” Duh. Amara could tell a mile away Mintaka was smitten with her... but didn’t quite know the extent of it. Amara just nodded and giggled a little.

“Yes, I have noticed.”

“...so... you’ve heard my story... if yer hellsbent on stayin’ up here an’ entertainin’ an old fool... mind tellin’ me yours?” Amara just nodded.

“Of course. Perhaps you may be able to offer some insight.”

“I doubt it... but as my mother used’a say, two heads are better’n one.” Amara agreed wholly to this, and perhaps an outside perspective would help shine some light on her conundrum. And so, Amara told the old man of the tale of the Raven Death, the nightmares that haunted her in the days and weeks leading up to her departure from her village and her search for powerful allies against this coming darkness. He listened far more politely than most anyone else, his gaze fixed forward but his ears open regardless. She saw him shiver – near imperceptible to the naked eye – at the description of the Raven Death and his Grasp Heart spell (though she never outright called it such). When she finished, he nodded sagely.

“You’ve got a grave task ahead of you.” He finally spoke. “Magic like that... that just ain’t natural. That’s even past what the Theocracy can do... you’re in deep, girl, that much I know fer a fact.”

“I am aware. However, I must try to protect my people regardless.”

“Of course.” The man nodded. “...I can’t promise this’ll be of any help...” The man mused, deep in thought. “But... among the rumors I heard about Carne was a name, a name of a man who supposedly fought off the attack single-handedly.” Amara blinked, tilting her head to the side.

“This is pretending that a single man could do such a thing, yes?”

“Well... accordin’ to Lord Stronoff, it’s more than just a rumor... an’ who am I to doubt the word’a the Captain of the Royal Select?” Amara nodded, understanding his measured concern.

“Please, I would hear this name.” Amara evened her voice out. She didn’t believe a single man could stand against an army but... she had seen stranger things before... granted, those ‘stranger things’ were in a video game where people could get ludicrously overpowered... but he didn’t need to know that.

“Lord Ainz Ooal Gown.” An unknown spike of fear – tiny and unfounded – raced down Amara’s back. She couldn’t place why this name had sent a shiver of terror through her system... it wasn’t a name she recognized, nor was it a particularly intimidating one by itself... but there was something inside her – deep and buried, refusing to poke its head out and announce its presence – that told her this name – this ‘Ainz Ooal Gown’ - was not someone she wanted to associate with.

“I... will remember and ponder upon this name.” She thought was the best way to respond. She had asked him to tell her and he had... she could not blame him for placing this seed of doubt in her heart and mind.

The rest of the ride proceeded with little conversation, and after only a few minutes, the fear and uncertainty that the name had given Amara had faded, leaving nothing but a small coldness in her heart. It was sunrise the next morning when they arrived at Carne Village, a gaze of surprise spreading over the old man’s face as they crested the hill, a wall of well-milled logs forming a fence all around the village, the tops of the trees sharpened to wicked spikes to prevent scaling. “Hells...” The man mused, scratching his head. “Don’t remember this place bein’ so fortified...” Amara looked back to find Mintaka slowly rousing herself out fo sleep.

“Mintaka? Wake your brothers, we have arrived.” She spoke gently to her, Mintaka nodding and shoving Alnilam hard in the shoulder.

“Ngh-!” He grunted, snorting awake. He looked around with bleary eyes for a moment, silence filling his ears before he glared at his sister. “...you’ve the subtlety of an ogre...” He grumbled to her, turning over and nudging Alnitak. “Brother... wake up. We appear to have arrived.”

“Such a grand wall... I was under the impression this was a frontier town, home to farmers and little else... and yet...” Even from this distance, Amara could see small figures moving over the wall. Some were human sized and shaped, while others were much smaller in stature. “...demi-humans?” She mused, squinting. “And goblins at that?” The word ‘Goblin’ woke the other members of Orion’s Belt rapidly, Alnilam poking his head out the front of the wagon.

“Goblins?! Attacking the village?” Amara looked more, and though she could see little past vague shapes and motions... none of them looked panicked or aggressive. It just looked like people going about their normal, everyday lives.

“...I do not believe so.” Amara answered. “It... appears as though they are... living alongside humans?” She looked to Alnilam. “Be ready, but do not assume hostilities. We should assess the situation first-”

“What’s to assess? Goblins and humans living together? Impossible!”

“Brother-” Alnitak spoke from behind him, a hand placed on Alnilam’s back. “-we should consider Amara’s words carefully. Remember, she too is a demi-human. Not all humans are good, and perhaps not all goblins are evil.” He spoke sage words. “We will be ready, but we will only attack if we are aggressed first.”

As they got closer to the gate – manned by four goblins wielding spears – Amara dismounted the cart and walked alongside the horse in front, to act as vanguard. Within shouting distance, one of the goblins guarding the gate lifted a hand and waved in a broad, noticeable arc over its head. “Good morning!” He spoke in a gruff, but no less polite tone. “Welcome to Carne Village!” Amara smiled to him and bowed.

“Good morning to you as well. We are a merchant from E-Rantel come to-”

“Ah! Yes! The General’s expecting you!” Another chimed in. “We were instructed to escort you right to her!” General? Goblins didn’t organize like militaries... not here, anyway. She remembered this one odd demi-human player who styled himself as a Goblin General – even had a small army of goblins with him at all times. Could such a thing happen here? Amara looked up to the man in the cart and nodded. The siblings piled out of the back – looks of concern on their face, and hands on their blades (still sheathed, thankfully) as they advanced next to Amara. Through the open gate, it was clear as day that this village was not under attack. Several goblins walked freely and proudly through the town – some hefting lumber axes, others farming implements – as they went about their day, greeting and being greeted by the human residents.

“...Plains Goblins...” Alnitak mused. “Never thought I’d see the day...”

“Plains Goblins?” Mintaka asked, her eldest brother nodding.

“Aye. The run-of-the-mill Goblin we have here is the Forest Goblin. Barely sentient and highly aggressive, territorial and cruel. Plains Goblins are very intelligent, sentient, and generally pretty friendly if you don’t mess with them.” His stance relaxed. “If they’ve taken up residence here, I’m sure we can get an explanation out of this ‘General’.” Amara nodded and turned to the Goblin guards.

“Please, let us waste no more time, then. Take us to your General.” The Goblin who greeted them gave a toothy grin and a deliberate nod, motioning them to follow. Amara and the rest of Orion’s Belt went in front, leaving the old merchant and his wagon to follow behind. As Amara walked the streets of Carne Village, she was genuinely surprised to see – not only the Human and Goblin residents living in tandem – but also that they seemed to have a far more cordial relationship. This wasn’t two people brought together through necessity and begrudgingly working together... the Human residents genuinely looked pleased to see their Goblin neighbors. Amara couldn’t help but smile at this... to see two people who – historically speaking – have never been on good terms with one another get along like they have known each other their whole lives.

Their escort walked them through the village – the residents offering them a polite wave and a hearty ‘good morning!’ as they passed – to a rather large building near the center of the village. Upon reaching the house, Amara could vaguely hear muffled voices – two female and a male – talking about something, the din of the village and the door preventing her from hearing everything. Their escort knocked on the door, the voices stopping instantly. “General? Your merchant’s here from E-Rantel.” Amara – a bit miffed that she couldn’t overhear the conversation within – helped the elderly merchant down from his bench and walked to the door with him. As Amara was reaching the door with the merchant, the door opened to a kind-eyed blonde woman smiling at us.

“Garret, you old dog, how have you been?!” The kind-eyed woman beamed happily at the merchant, who smiled in stilted surprise.

“Enri? What’s all this ‘General’ stuff?”

“Aaaah...” She sighed, followed quickly by a “...ahahaha... It’s a long story, Garret... why don’t you come in? I was just about to make breakfast for Nifrea and I. Would you like to join us?”

“I didn’t come here alone, girl... t’would be rude of me to accept and leave my escorts high and dry...” Enri blinked, almost as if she hadn’t even seen Orion’s Belt waiting in the wings.

“Oh! Oh, you’re right, I’m terribly sorry! I keep forgetting times are changing.” She turned to the four members of the party and bowed. “I’m terribly sorry about that. I’m Enri Emmot, current Elder of Carne Village.” Alnitak – falling into his role as party lead – stepped up and bowed politely to Enri.

“A pleasure to meet you, Enri. I’m Alnitak, leader of Orion’s Belt... and this is my brother Alnilam-” He motioned to the younger brother, who nodded and waved. “-and my sister Mintaka-” Mintaka gave her a little curtsey. “-and our fourth, Amara Akusa.”

“Oh! Oh my, a demi-human? I hadn’t expected that!” Her tone and smile matched, making her surprise a happy one. “Well, why don’t you all come in for a bit? I’m sure it will be a boring discussion, but you can at least sit down and have some tea.”

“I like tea.” Mintaka chimed in, causing Alnilam to scoff.

“Since when, sister?”

“I-” Mintaka spoke up, her gaze flickering quickly to Amara. “...for a while... tastes can change, you know!” As the group filtered into the house, Amara turned to look out into Carne Village one last time, her Master’s Gaze triggering to check the Goblins’ power. Every human she passed was gray – with the very occasional green – and all the goblins were at the least blue, even a few yellow ones in the more armored Gob-

As she scanned the area, an oddity presented itself... perched on the roof of a house was a swirling orange aura... like something was there, but there was nothing the aura was surrounding... just a floating orange cloud. She stared at it for a few seconds, squinting as she processed what it was. Invisibility? She had seen it once or twice in YGGDRASIL, a creature or player that could turn invisible would still be detected with Master’s gaze, but it would just be a random floating aura... just like this.

“Amara?” Mintaka’s voice broke her concentration, causing Amara to turn to face her, her Master’s Gaze fizzling at the lack of concentration. “Are you coming?”

“Yes... yes, I apologize. I thought I saw something.” Dismissing the errant aura, Amara followed Mintaka into the house – clearly larger than the rest, most likely designed for the Elder – and closed the door behind her. Aside from Orion’s Belt – who had seated themselves in chairs near a table – there was Enri and the merchant of course, along with two other figures. The first was a young man – a bowl cut hairstyle all but hiding his crisp blue eyes – wearing a heavy pair of pants and a white tunic shirt, a collection of tools at his belt marking him most likely as an herbalist of some kind. The seconds... the second was a queer sight indeed... red hair styled into two pigtails down her back and dressed in what Amara would generously describe as a dress approaching an almost french maid style... black and white with frills about the tails and a single slit all the way up her left leg. There was a strength – but a whimsy – in her amber eyes, and a nonchalnce in her splayed seating arrangement on the couch. She looked at everyone with a mix of disinterest and – if Amara was translating the look correctly – disdain... but it was a well-hidden disdain. Amara tried not to look too long at the strange red-haired woman, taking a seat next to Mintaka and gently closing her eyes in meditation.

Enri and the merchant – Garret – had dominated most of the meeting with discussing what the village would need – a veritable laundry list of sundries and tools, along with some very specific requests for weapons (for the Goblins, if Amara were a betting woman). Enri introduced the young man as Nifrea Bareare – the grandson of Lizzie Bareare, the Alchemist in E-Rantel – and explained that Nifrea was exploring some ‘esoteric alchemical applications’ with some of the forest herbs; leading to an extended stay in Carne Village.

Throughout the discussion, everyone had weighed in to the discussion – even Alnitak chiming in about the best places in E-Rantel to purchase bulk weapons and armor – save for the red-haired woman on the couch, who seemed content enough to simply watch everything happen. Amara contented herself in checking everyone in the room with Master’s Gaze and – as she feared – the woman who remained silent was a bright, throbbing red to her. Amara had decided to keep an eye on the redhead... though not appear as though she was. The discussion passed like someone putting in a supply order – Enri filling Garret in on some of the supplies they’d need going forward and setting up a recurring shipment for some of their consumables – like farm tools, which she claimed some of the Goblins were breaking almost on the daily.

“Other than that-” Enri had ended the discussion with. “-I think we’re good.” She looked to the redhead for a moment. “Can you think of anything else we need?” The redhead – without pausing to even think – simply shook her head.

“Nope.” She answered simply, the only word she’s spoken so far. Enri just nodded to her and turned her attention to Garret and Orion’s Belt.

“Thank you for making the trip out here... I hope it wasn’t too eventful?” Garret just laughed at her, shaking his head.

“Boring, just how I like it.” Enri seemed delighted to hear that.

“I’m glad. Ever since the attack, we’ve been worried about every little thing in the forest.”

“The attack?” Alnitak mused. “So the rumors of Slane attacking are true?” Enri just nodded to him.

“I’m afraid so. A contingent of men showed up and started killing people...”

“What happened?” Alnilam spoke up. “I mean, how did you survive?”

“I don’t know... not many of us do. Everything happened so fast, I must have... blacked out. When I regained consciousness, I had a small army of Plains Goblins calling me General...” Enri walked to a window behind her and pushed the shutters open, looking out into the village. “...a lot of us here are feeling betrayed... betrayed by our own kind. The people who came through here and slaughtered us nearly to the man weren’t goblins... they weren’t demi-humans or even undead... they were men. Just like us. It’s why we’ve welcomed the Goblins into the town. They helped us when our own people betrayed us...” She turned to Amara. “Demi-humans have always gotten the short end of every stick... but when you really think about it...? So few of them are bad. A look to you, Amara, and I can tell you have a pure heart... I feel that if you were here when Slane attacked... you would have helped us.”

“The Theocracy makes an enemy of my people on principle of our faith. I would have shown them no kindness.” Nifrea – who had been mostly silent up until now – looked up at Amara and smiled.

“You must be Linderfolk, then. My grandmother would tell me stories of your kind. It’s a shame that Slane remains so steadfastly xenophobic.” Amara just nodded to him.

“Your grandmother is Lizzie, yes?” Nifrea just smiled and nodded. “I have met her. She is a sweet lady. A fine alchemist.”

“Well...” Enri chimed in, closing the shutters. “We don’t have a whole lot in the ways of comfort, but I think I can see about getting you all a place to rest for a few hours at least. I would hate to send you back to E-Rantel so quickly.”

“I’m sure whatever you can provide would be welcome.” Alnitak reassured her, Orion’s Belt standing as the group started towards the door. “Worst comes to worst, we can ask around, see if we can make ourselves useful. Me and my kin grew up as farmers, so we’re no stranger to hard work.”

“And I am one with the natural world.” Amara added in. “I too do not mind helping, even if it is with farm work.”

“You all are too kind... If you see fit to help us, then no one shall refuse your kindness, but please do not feel as though you must. Rest, you have a long trip ahead of you.” Enri insisted. We all gave a polite bow and started towards the door. Garret went first, followed by Alnitak and Alnilam with Mintaka behind, and Amara bringing up the rear. As Amara was about to exit, the face of the redheaded woman suddenly appeared in front of her, causing her to stop and recoil slightly.

“...can I help you?” Amara asked simply, the girl’s face dangerously close to her own. She wore a stupid, broad smile as she studied Amara’s face, turning her head this way and that for a few seconds. “...do I have something on my face?” Amara asked again. After another minute, the woman just closed her eyes and drew in a slow, long breath through her nose... almost as if she was smelling Amara. “...” Amara just blinked.

“...you smell nice.” The redhead spoke randomly, causing Amara to pause to process.

“...thank... you...?” Amara tried, the redhead just nodding.

“I like how you smell.” Yes, that is generally one of the requirements for someone to ‘smell nice’ by your standards.

“...I am sorry, but what did you say your name was?” Amara asked, the woman’s smiling widening by a noticeable amount.

“I didn’t.” She responded. “I just wanted to know that...” Leaning forward suddenly, the strange, weirdo of a woman stuck her tongue out and licked Amara’s cheek. “...I like how you smell.” Stepping out of Amara’s way, the redhead let Amara beat as dignified a retreat as she could, Amara rubbed furiously at her cheek to wipe away the wierd woman’s saliva. “...strange woman...” She mused as the door closed behind them, Mintaka looking at her.

“Hmm...? Did something happen?’

“Nothing bad... just that woman in there... the redhead.”

“The one who wouldn’t stop staring at you?” Mintaka pouted, clearly dissatisfied by the redhead’s intent attention she paid to Amara. Amara nodded.

“Yes, that is the one I mean. She... licked me on the way out?” Alnilam burst out laughing.

“Seriously? She licked you?”

“The world, it seems, is filled with weirdos.” Alnitak mused before looking to Garret. “Say, you knew Enri... did you happen to know who that redhead was? She looked to be dressed like a maid.”

“No... never seen her in my life.” Garret responded. “...which all things considered, I’m not too fond of.” Alnitak’s whimsical grin disappeared at this, causing him to look seriously upon Garret.

“What do you mean? Maybe she’s just another villager you’ve never met, thrust into a place of import like Enri...”

“I know everyone in Carne Village. Never seen her before in my life.” Amara paused for a moment, making it look as though she’s taken an interest in the surroundings. Taking in a deep breath, she triggered her Master’s Gaze one more time and surveyed the surrounding area. There could be no doubt... the disembodied orange aura was following them.

“It would appear, Lord Ainz...” Sebas began, meeting with Ainz in his chambers; the broad-shouldered, shovel-chinned Lich seated in his chair and watching the mirror floating in front of him, showing him Carne Village and the strange group of adventurers that had rolled in. “...that the Linderfolk girl can see the Eight-Edged Assassin...” Ainz watched the Linderfolk stare right at him – through the Eight-Edged Assassin, through the magic mirror he used as a television, and right into whatever passed as his soul – for a solid few seconds before her attention was ripped away by the female human in the group.

“...I don’t believe so.” Ainz responded carefully. “I don’t believe she sees it, but I believe she knows something’s there.”

“Might I ask how you can tell that, My Lord?” Ainz stroked his chin. He was always glad for Demiurge’s last-second explanations when he didn’t actually have an explanation for anything he did (at least not an explanation the denizens of Nazarick would accept) but in this case, he found Demiurge gladly unneccesary to explain his line of thought.

“She can see something, that much is certain... however her stance is more curious than aggressive. Eight-Edged Assassins are not exactly... friendly looking. If she saw the Eight-Edge, she would have most certainly attacked.”

“You speak the truth, My Lord...” Sebas agreed wholly, seeing the wisdom in his words. Before Ainz could speak, a knock came to the door. Ainz’ gaze turned up from the mirror to the door.

“Enter.” He spoke powerfully, the door opening with great effort, Aura trotting in and bowing extravagantly to him.

“Terribly sorry about the interruption, My Lord.”

“No worries, Aura. Has there been new developments in the Forest of Illusion?”

“None yet, My Lord. This actually concerns a... ‘side project’ of sorts I’ve been conducting.”

“Side project?” Ainz echoed, his interest piqued.

“I had one of the Homunculous Maids sneak into E-Rantel and scour their library for anything regarding our forest denizens... your fox.” Ainz’ ruby ember eyes flicked quickly to the mirror, then back to Aura.

“And what have they discovered.”

“Not a lot we don’t already know. They’re called the Linderfolk, and apparently they live in seclusion in the forest due to a ‘great betrayal’ that happened sometime in their past. Past that, the only other thing we’ve been able to dig up is that their holy warriors – women of faith called ‘Oracles’ - are immensely powerful magic casters... some of the strongest magic casters in the world, if rumor is to be believed.”

“How strong are we looking at?”

“Well, I’m confident you’re still stronger, Lord Ainz-” Aura began, Ainz waving away the pointless ego-stroking. “But stronger than anything the humans of this world can muster.”

“I saw first-hand her strength. She held off an entire army of summoned skeletons... and they were on par with what I could create with Create Lesser Undead.” Ainz stroked his broad chin again, deep in thought. “Aura... I’d like for you to arrange a little... show for me.” Aura’s eyes lit up at the prospect.

“Of course, My Lord! What would entertain you the most?”

“Solution has returned with a play thing for our guest in the Forest, yes?”

“Several, My Lord.” Ainz nodded to this confirmation.

“Pick one of them, and bring them to me. I will turn them into a Death Knight, and you will personally oversee how well this ‘Oracle’ handles a Death Knight. The mere sight of a Death Knight terrified the men of ‘faith’ in the Slane Theocracy... sent them scattering to the winds like ants. I would see if she is made of... sterner stuff.” Aura nodded excitedly and bowed.

“I’ll oversee this test myself, My Lord!”

“And Aura?” Ainz chirped up before Aura could turn to leave; the small Dark Elf spinning back around quickly and bobbing her head in acknowledgment. “Make sure this test is far outside of Carne Village’s boundaries... we don’t need any collateral damage, yes?” Aura saluted playfully.

“Completely, Lord Ainz!”

Chapter 13: A Test; the First of Many

Chapter Text

Enri had managed to get Amara and the rest of Orion’s Belt a place to rest for a bit – splitting the group up and asking several villagers to allow them to stay in their homes for a bit. A few were wary – understandable, given what Enri told them about the attack not too long ago – but their status as Adventurers had managed to allay the fears of most. Amara had been taken in by a kind elderly woman who seemed delighted to have someone she could dote upon again. Amara wasn’t too happy about having no chance to be alone but... really, that was probably the least of her concerns at the time. They had agreed to leave in the morning to give Garret time to get the full list of what Enri had wanted to buy for the village, and as Amara walked through the town, she kept seeing the disembodied orange aura following her at a distance.

She also caught the strange redheaded woman gazing at her from a distance, her look impossible to determine. It was either a look of extreme interest... or very well hidden disdain; whichever it was Amara couldn’t tell. Around midday, Nifrea had gathered the four members of Orion’s Belt to ask them a favor. “I know you were just supposed to escort Garret here but... could I ask of you a favor?”

“Sure! We’re not going anywhere anytime today, so why not.” Alnitak agreed, his siblings nodding along with him. Nifrea smiled brightly, happy to see he wasn’t imposing.

“Thank you! Are any of you familiar with herb collection?”

“I am.” Amara answered instantly, so the three siblings didn’t have to sputter like fish out of water. “I helped your grandmother collect some not too long ago.” Nifrea breathed a sigh of relief.

“Great! I need Arnica grass for a few experiments I’m running. Could you collect a bit for me? I don’t need much, just a few bushels.”

“It should not be an issue. I can go and collect it now, if you would like?”

“The Great Forest has become progressively more dangerous over the years... I’d honestly feel more comfortable if you all went in together, for safety.” Amara would beg to differ – argue that she was quite capable of going herself – but a single look to Mintaka told her that the young woman would be quite cross with her if she wasn’t brought along. Amara smiled politely and nodded.

“Very well then. You would know best, after all.” Nifrea looked relieved to see Amara agree.

“Thank you. I know it’s a little below your paygrade, but the herbs will help us out immensely.”

“As far as I’m concerned -” Alnitak chimed in, making sure his sword was properly seated at his waist. “- there is no such thing as ‘below our paygrade’.” Alnitak and Amara were in agreement in this sentiment, and from the looks on the other two member’s faces, it was clear that they also agreed.

The four stepped out and back into the village, Alnitak adopting a very relaxed position, his hands behind his head as he walked. “Seriously though, Amara-” He began, once the door was closed and they were alone. “-we are a party, there’s no sense for you to be taking everything upon yourself.”

“Ah... yes, I apologize... I am just so used to bearing these kinds of burdens alone... I infrequently had help back home.”

“I get it.” Alnitak responded with a nod. “I’m not mad or anything... actually kind of flattered... just... you know.”

“’Many hands make work a joy’, as father used to say.” Alnilam chimed in with a tidbit of wisdom. “We can’t change the world alone.” This – even in Amara’s old world – had never been more true.

“Then I shall endeavor to seek your aid more frequently.” Amara had always been alone. Even when Amara was the Angel of Death, she only ever really relied upon herself. Sure, she had help if you wanted to call it that in the form of her Squad and Monika... but she knew deep down the only person she could rely on was herself. Everyone who had ever reached out, anyone who had ever sought to be her friend had paid the ultimate price. She pushed this thought out of her mind. This world would be different. Eclipse had been... a fluke. A run of bad luck no one was expecting. Delilah had explained it best; Xea’drath only stayed around long enough to do a few experiments before f*cking off to Linder knows where. No one had sent them to fight Xea’drath. No one even knew the bastard was there. She would help Orion’s Belt become the best Adventuring Party they could.

They wandered out into the surrounding forests in search of the Arnica herbs. Mintaka had mentioned that she knew what the herbs looked like, but lacked the skill (or patience, by her own admission) to properly collect them. It surprised Amara little... for most people, grass was grass, no matter what it looked like. Only a skilled herbalist or Druid could truly tell if a piece of leafy green was beneficial or even edible in the first place. It only took them about two minutes upon entering the forest for Mintaka to spot the herb. “That’s the one, right there.” She pointed out, crouching by it. “Most people chock it up to just another weed in the forest but-” No, Amara could see that. The herb itself reminded her immensely of Shepherd’s Purse from her old world (a weed she would be woe to admit the only reason she knew the name of it was because of her Druidic nature. Apparently, she can recall plant names even of Earth-based plants that she hasn’t seen here in this new world), but with larger, broader leaves. Mintaka touched the leaves gently. “-you can tell it’s Arnica because of the broad leaves.” As Amara crouched to collect the sample she pointed out, she began to notice it all over; peeking from beneath tree roots, hiding in shrubs and in the undergrowth.

Amara spent the better part of an hour collecting Arnica for Nifrea, the rest of Orion’s Belt standing watch and keeping eyes out for anything that might decide to rain on their parade. It was near the end of this hour-long gathering session when Mintaka spoke up again. ”Ugh, Alnilam! If you’re gonna rip ass, do it over there!” She gasped, clasping her nose closed. Alnilam, for his part, just blinked at her.

“I didn’t fart, Min. What are you-” Just as he was saying this. “Oh, Gods above, what is that stench?!” He heaved at the smell that assaulted his nostrils, and as Amara stood to see what the commotion was, the stench hit her too. It was like someone had thrown a rotting corpse in her face, sprinkled with a healthy serving of grave dust. The back of the stench had an earthy, almost dirt-like scent to it. It was a unique scent to be certain... one that caused the hairs on the back of Amara’s head to stand on end in worry. Amara looked around, searching through every crack in the trees for whatever had caused this unearthly stench... a black mass moving between them at a distance... and at great speed.

“Something comes.” Amara mused, snatching everyone’s attention away. “At your ready.” She commanded. Shoving the disturbing, burning acrid stench out of their nostrils, the members of Orion’s Belt did their best to form on Amara and be ready for whatever approached them. Resting one hand on her katana, she deftly opened her Item Box behind her back and shoved the herbs inside before closing it just as quickly with the other, readying herself against the foe.

A roar of fury and hate echoed through the trees, causing flocks of birds to take flight and flee from the scene. As the group turned to face the direction of the cry, a hulking black armored figure came crashing through the trees, a massive four-foot long flamberge wielded effortlessly in one hand, and a heavy tower shield in the other. Amara’s eyes widened as she recognized this particular creature: a Death Knight. They were popular among Necromancer players in YGGDRASIL due to their unnaturally high defense for their level, as well as their ability to create lesser undead out of everyone and everything they killed.

“What the hells is that?!” Mintaka shrieked, her voice cracking.

“Gods, get back everyone!” Alnitak barked.

“Undead?! This close to Carne?!” Alnilam managed to keep his composure in the situation. The creature went straight for Mintaka which – if it’s YGGDRASIL lore was any hint – was mainly due to it being attracted to fear and panic. Amara leapt to the side and shoved Mintaka down, drawing her sword in one graceful motion, blocking the Death Knight’s attack.

“Alnitak! Get Mintaka!” Amara commanded, shoving the Death Knight back. Alnitak and his brother dipped in behind Amara quickly enough to pull Mintaka away from the beast and to her feet. “Keep your distance, do not get too close! It has a fear aura. Get Mintaka away.” Mintaka was frozen in fear as the two men drug her away from the scene, leaving Amara to fend off the beast. The Death Knight growled at her, advancing slowly upon her. She could feel the bile welling up in her stomach, every iota of her body screaming at her to run, that this wasn’t a fight she could win. “...you will not win this argument, monster.” Amara narrowed her eyes to it. “I am a servant of Linder, and I fear no man or beast! So I certainly do not fear a rotting corpse!” She made a quick motion with her off-hand, drawing a torii with two fingers, the image flashing in holy light, causing the Death Knight to take a step back. “In Linder’s name, I command thee to return to the grave!” Okay, she was taking a little theatrical liberty here but... she never was one to half-ass anything.

The Death Knight – in response to her Admonishment – raised its tower shield to hide behind, the massive slab of dark metal covering well over three quarters of its body. Seeing this, Alnitak drew his sword and sheild and advanced, determined to help. Amara’s gaze flicked back when she heard the sword leave its scabbard. “Worry about yourself.” She mused. “Even a glancing blow from this beast could prove fatal... and death by its hands is not a release, but damnation to an eternity in service to it as an undead yourself.”

“What the hell?!” Alnitak gasped out. “You mean this... this thing can turn people into undead servants!?”

“If it kills you, yes.” Amara confirmed, the Death Knight raising its sword and bringing it down, Amara dodging expertly out of the way. “Ironskin.” She chanted, her body flashing a steel sheen. She didn’t want to let Orion’s Belt know just how powerful she truly was... she didn’t want them to rely wholly on her, nor did she want to tip her hand quite yet. “Essence of the Behemoth.” She chanted again, her muscles tightening as her body pulsed a deep crimson. Her gaze flickered back to Alnitak, who was still advancing.

“If that is truth, then you cannot best it alone!” Technically? If it had the same stat spread as in the game, she totally could. Death Knights – in YGGDRASIL – were only level forty-five, and had sub-par attack compared to their heightened defense. She was more worried about the siblings than herself... none of them were holy figures.

“Worry about your sister, I shall be fine!” Amara responded. “I am uniquely equipped to handle such a creature.” Holding her sword out, she chanted one final spell. “Holy Fire!” Once more, her katana erupted in flickering white flames that radiated a divine warmth, the Death Knight shrieking in anger and fury at her defiance. Bringing its sword across its shield, the Death Knight launched a vicious sidewise slice towards the defiant Oracle, who managed to twist herself in just the right way for the blade to graze past her with little more than a weak gust of wind.

“Hells, you’re not kidding! I can’t read the damn thing!” Alnitak seemed to lose his willingness to help, taking a few steps back. Amara answered the Death Knight’s attack with one of her own, the hulking mass of rotten flesh and bone raising its shield in time to block the hit, a blast of white flame spreading across its shield and sizzling menacingly. The Death Knight growled as it tried to shield-bash her, the limber Oracle able to leap backwards out of the reach of the creature. It had immense strength, that much was certain... but it lacked agility. It could move with a quickness, but its attacks were telegraphed far in advance by its body motions. Alnitak may not have been able to read the swing, but seeing it enough he would be able to see the wind up to the attack, and how to best dodge.

It followed the shield bash up with a powerful downward slice, which Amara was able to block with her own sword. Linder, if she hadn’t dumped so many damn data crystals into this sword, it would have broken years ago. The one random lucky draw she got was when she went to go put its Legendary stat on it, she had gotten lucky and gotten Unbreakable, which – in game – just made it where she never had to repair it... but here? If it transferred, that ‘Unbreakable’ stat was putting in work. The Death Knight’s sword crackled and sizzled as the flames licked it, the beast scowling in disdain at Amara. It seemed stupified at not only why was this tiny little insignificant demi-human not afraid of it... but how had it been able to not only dodge every single one of its attacks, but return a few of its own.

Ainz watched intently at the battle between the young Linderfolk girl and the hulking Death Knight. Sebas and Demiurge stood stoically behind him, just off to his side, as they watched too. Sebas’ face was of that painful, gritty neutrality he often wore... but Demiurge watched with an amused smile, his eyes watching the battle behind his sunglasses intently.

“She is immune to its fear effect.” Sebas noted, Ainz nodding firmly.

“But her comrades are not.” Demiurge stated the obvious.

“I am not concerned about them. They are inconsequential.” Ainz spoke quickly, his gaze never breaking from the mirror. He watched her kick off the Death Knight’s shield to dodge a sidewise cleave from it. “She is making a mockery of it...” This wasn’t said with any kind of malice... but a measure of interest.

“And her sword.” Demiurge spoke up again. “I have never seen someone of this world wield holy power as she does.”

“True Faith.” Sebas answered. “I have read about it in several books. Some in the Theocracy claim to be able to wield their faith as a weapon against the undead, but I have yet to see it put into practice... until today.”

“If I may, My Lord... I believe it would be incredibly dangerous for one of her power to continue to exist. I believe this woman to be far, far stronger than even Gazef Stronoff... she may even be able to give your Glorious self a run for your money.”

“Answer me truthfully, Sebas?” Ainz spoke, ignoring Demiurge’s comment for a moment. “Do you think this woman would be strong enough to kill me?” Sebas paused for a long, long time, watching the fight play out. He watched her dance and weave between strikes, return attacks of her own all the while keeping the Death Knight on its feet. Ainz had asked Sebas because of the two men, he could trust Sebas more to give an honest answer. Demiurge would have just defaulted to his usual platitudes and flattery... but Sebas was honest to a fault.

“Kill? No.” Sebas finally answered. “Her magic is strong, yes... she is quick and precise... her blade skills are not to be trifled with... but she is only mortal. In a straight up fair fight... I believe she could wound you, perhaps gravely. But you could easily outlast her.” Ainz nodded, silently thanking Sebas for his candor. “...but My Lord... there is something else you must know.”

“What is that, Sebas?” Ainz continued, still watching the fight.

“In many of the books I have read from E-Rantel... I have reason to believe that she is not the only threat.” Ainz’ gaze flickered for a moment, his head ticking slightly towards Sebas.

“What do you mean?”

“If the books are to be believed... every single one of her people – given the proper circ*mstances and time – can easily rise to her power or greater. The Linderfolk – universally – truly believe in their god. That is not the kind of faith to ignore.”

“A whole people, capable of True Faith?” Demiurge mused, looking up slightly as he thought, hands behind his back. “We should wipe them out immediately, then.” Demiurge’s response to the threat was – predictably – swift and absolute.

“I would agree.” Sebas answered with a nod. “It would be child’s play for Mare and Aura to find them in the forest. Aura’s control over the beasts of the forest could act as scouts, and Mare’s druidic connections could-”

“No.” Ainz answered simply, lifting a hand. “If we move too quickly, we may tip our hand to E-Rantel and Baharuth before we’re ready. Movement of that scale will no doubt draw attention.” This was only half the reason why Ainz disagreed. Of course, movement of that size would draw a sizable amount of attention to Nazarick – most likely of the negative kind – and no matter how isolated the Linderfolk were, the news would eventually get out... especially if anyone survived. But... past that? Ainz was loath to jump to genocide if there were other options at play. Could this one Oracle be taken out silently? Could she be perhaps driven away? Could she be made to serve Nazarick instead? Too many options to forsake them and jump to annihilation of an entire people. “We will keep an eye on them, of course... but we won’t move. Not yet.”

“My Lord...” Demiurge’s smile disappeared. “As... loath as I am to disagree, I feel I must. If they militarize, we could be facing a war we have precious little chance to win-”

“If they are aware of our presence. So far, all we have to go on is one lone Oracle galivanting about the countryside. There is little reason to believe they even know or care that we’re here... and they won’t, so long as we don’t tip our hand too soon.” Ainz corrected him. He didn’t admonish Demiurge his disagreement – in fact, he welcomed it – but he wanted Demiurge to know that rash judgment has led to the downfall of many greater players than Ainz. Demiurge genuinely considered this for a moment, then nodded.

“You are correct, My Lord. I apologize for my rash comment.”

“Don’t apologize, Demiurge... your counsel is valuable; both of yours... it is also why I invited Sebas.” His ember eyes flickered in a way that could almost be construed as a blink before he raised a hand to his head, placing two fingers on the side of his skull. “Message.” He spoke clearly. “Aura, this test is complete. When the Oracle kills the Death Knight, return to Nazarick. Until then, continue to observe.” He lowered his hand and waved his other at the mirror, the television-like item shutting off as Ainz stood. “It’s time. Inform Narberal that we’ll be returning to E-Rantel soon.”

Blocking the Death Knight’s massive flamberge again, she pushed it away. The beast staggered backwards and growled in frustration as Amara heaved. She was getting tired from all this dodging, she’d have to find an opening soon. It was the one advantage the undead had over the living... being able to fight indefinitely without ever getting tired. Taking a deep breath in the interim, she tried to recover her stamina. The Death Knight raised its sword on high one more time and brought it down with thunderous power, Amara taking the opportunity to duck and dodge to the left before rushing forward. The Death Knight seemed to realize what has happening too late, as a single swipe from Amara’s blade severed its sword-arm at the upper bicep, the stump flaring in holy fire, searing the flesh and causing it to burn. It growled in loud, low pain before twirling around and bashing Amara with its shield. Her body flashed steel-gray as her Ironskin took the brunt of the attack.

“Ngh-!” She grunted, landing on the ground a few feet away.

“Amara!” Mintaka called. “Help her!” She pleaded with her brothers.

“We’ll only get in her way, Min... she said she has this, I believe her.” Getting to her feet, Amara shook her head gently to clear the fuzz out of her mind.

“Stay there, Mintaka... it was hardly a hit.” Only a half-lie. Standard Ironskin only negated half the damage of an attack, and even though Amara wasn’t a health tank and was exceptionally frail... she wasn’t so frail that a single hit from a level forty-five Death Knight would do anything more than mildly inconvenience her. To the siblings, this must have looked like a life-or-death struggle... but honestly, if they weren’t here, she would have ended it sooner. Armless and enraged, the Death Knight began to try to crush Amara with its shield, the heavy iron slab flailing and crashing to the ground with bone crushing power. Bounding out of the way one final time, Amara grumbled to herself. Sometimes... you just had to do things you didn’t want to do. “...alright...” She mumbled to herself. “...have it your way.” Backstepping to put some distance between her and the Death Knight, she held her blade up before her. “Exalted Blade!” Her sword turned an ethereal blue, the holy fire adding to its eerie look, before drawing it across her body and letting loose a wave of blue-white energy. The Death Knight tried to block it, but the beam struck it with such force, it recoiled in its block.

Again and again Amara let out a crushing barrage of energy waves from her sword, the hits causing pure white holy flames to explode out, covering the Death Knight in holy energy. After several hits to its massive shield, it stumbled back as its block was broken, causing another to slice through its body. Baying in agony, the Death Knight fought with all its might to bring its shield back in front of it, but a second energy wave sliced through its shield-bearing arm, severing it at the shoulder. Growling, it bowed its head and charged in one final, desperate attempt to slay the Linderfolk Oracle. Meanwhile, Amara’s head thrummed in unimaginable pain, her mana on the last threads due to her prolonged battle. If she had gone all-out on it, it probably wouldn’t have lasted all this long.

Redoubling her efforts, Amara swung her blade in rapid, wide arcs to send wave after devastating wave of holy fire towards the Death Knight. The first sliced through its upper left arm, cutting the rest of its arm free; the second striking a glancing blow across its side – barely lethal, but no less damaging – as the third and forth hit it center mass, the beast slowing down for only a moment. The fifth – and final – energy wave split its horned helmet in half, slicing clean through its head. Gargling a gutteral growl, the charging mass of hate and dark flesh tumbled to the ground and fell silent mere inches from Amara. Closing her eyes and drawing in a deep, cleansing breath, Amara sheathed her katana at her side and dropped to both knees, offering a prayer to the fallen Death Knight. An undead this powerful wasn’t just a collection of animated bone, given instructions and left to do its mindless work... Undead this strong usually had a human soul bound to them as well. The soul is twisted to doing the caster’s work. “Linder watch over this wayward soul... it has suffered enough in this horrid world...” She muttered, the body erupting into holy fire as the prayer sanctified the body, burning it to golden cinders.

“Holy sh*t.” Alnitak finally found his voice, the three siblings advancing upon Amara. “Was... was that a Death Knight?” Amara just nodded to this as her beneficial spells dispelled, leaving her exhausted mentally and physically. “Like... the legendary undead Death Knight?”

“I’ve only heard about them in stories...” Alnilam continued.

“They’re supposed to be exceedingly rare... what is one doing here?” Amara held a hand up to Alnitak’s question.

“I do not know.” She answered, trying to control her breathing. “But it matters little... it is dead.” Amara heard a few pairs of footsteps approach her, a firm hand cupping her shoulder.

“I knew you were strong, Amara... but the rumors do you no justice.” Alnitak spoke to her, giving her shoulder a reassuring shake.

“...and yet I am weary from the fight.”

“Doesn’t matter. It would have taken the Blue Roses longer to deal with such a beast...” Alnilam echoed. “...Amara...? Forgive me for saying so but... I got the feeling you were holding back during that fight...”

“Holding back? Don’t be foolish, Alnilam.” Alnitak scoffed with a laugh. “I mean, she’s strong, sure... but let’s not all get big heads over this.”

“Your brother is right, Alnilam.” Amara punctuated this with a deep, fulfilling breath. “I was not holding back.” She stood, having rested enough to find her feet again. Just as she stood, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist, a face pressed into the back of her neck, the person behind her crying.

“...I’m sorry...” Mintaka’s voice broke through her tears. “...I’m sorry I... I panicked, I don’t know what happened...”

“Worry not. Fear is what the Death Knight revels in. It sows chaos and fear in its opponents to demoralize. I do not hold it against you.” She felt Mintaka’s grip tighten.

“That’s not good enough! I... I don’t want to be weak and scared anymore...”

“That’s why we became adventurers, sister.” Alnitak spoke, his hand transferring to Mintaka’s shoulder to comfort her. “We should redouble our efforts, take more quests and push ourselves to our limits... within reason, of course.”

“Amara... do you... suppose those skills can be taught?” Mintaka asked.

“Possibly... but keep in mind that my magic is based upon my faith. If you truly wish to learn an Oracle’s ways... you must be willing to follow the faith as well.” She shook her head. “We will discuss it later. We should get these herbs back to Nifrea at the village.”

“So... what do we say about the Death Knight?”

“Nothing.” Amara answered Alnilam’s question. “We say nothing.”

“Nothing?! Amara, you just cut a legendary creature down like it was nothing! If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’d think it impossible, you can’t-”

“...that’s why we can’t say anything.” Mintaka interrupted her brother’s rant. “If you can hardly believe it, despite witnessing it... what chance do we have of convincing others it happened? We have no proof... not third-party to back up our claim. We would be crying to the dark.” Amara nodded.

“Precisely. Unless we had proof, or another to back up our claim... I am afraid telling anyone of it would only cast us in suspicious light. We will smile, and we will say nothing of it.” Alnilam exhaled, clearly disappointed at the turn of events... but understanding there is nothing to be done. They were both right, if they started making wild claims – especially saying they killed a creature that only appears once in a hundred years or so – they'd be ridiculed as imposters... what good deed they’ve built up, they’d lose.

“You’re right...” He sighed, shaking his head. “Gods, you’re right; we’d sound mad. Or worse.” He huffed, then smiled. “Strong and wise... you really are quite the catch, Amara.” Mintaka let Amara go, the group returning to Carne Village to rest.

They delivered the Arnica grass to Nifrea without a word about the Death Knight. He thanked them deeply for their work and tossed a few extra silver coins their way to pay for the inconvenience of having to do extra work. As they gave their report to Nifrea and Enri, Amara stayed quiet, watching the redheaded woman – still lounging on the sofa with a broad grin on her face – out of the corner of her eye. Her smile never left, nor did her gaze ever leave Amara. By the time they were allowed to leave and return for rest, Amara felt herself breathing easier being out of the redhead’s gaze.

“Amara...?” Mintaka mused as they exited Enri’s home, Amara turning to look at her. “I was wondering if...” Mintaka looked to her brothers, who were both looking expectantly to her. “...uhm... sorry guys I... I want to talk to her alone?” Alnitak nodded, seeming to understand and waved gently to her.

“Say no more, sister. Come, Alnilam. Let’s get some lunch, yes?” Alnilam nodded and followed his brother off.

“...sorry...” Mintaka squirmed a bit where she stood. “...I... I don’t want them to see me in case... in case this backfires... uhm... my brothers... don’t know that I’m... I’m...”

“Sapphic?” Amara responded simply, causing Mintaka to nod.

“...that noticeable, huh?” Amara just shrugged a little.

“Not really... but a woman can recognize her own quite easily.”

“Her own...? You’re...?” Amara just nodded.

“Mm-hmm. I have grown up with very little male influence... tradition dictates that those closest to an Oracle be women. Oracles are the mortal wives of Linder, we are forbidden from forming romantic relationships. It keeps us ‘pure’ for our afterlives... though I have never quite agreed with it, many of the men in the village did not want to be the one to... despoil the Oracle.”

“...so I guess I lost before I could even begin, huh?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?” Mintaka sighed, starting to walk away. Curious, Amara followed behind her.

“I just... I know you’ve only been here a week or so but... you’re everything I want to be, Amara... you’re strong, confident, beautiful-”

“Well, you have at least one of those.” Amara responded gently, with a small smile.

“You tease me... I’ve... found my dreams turn to you many times over the last few days... I’ve even spaced out in the middle of our talks, dreaming about your lips and... oh, Gods, I sound so desperate.”

“Lovesick, I would say.” Amara nodded sagely. “I have always been fond of you, too, Mintaka.”

“Hah.” She laughed dryly, shaking her head. “I don’t see what you see in me. I’m small, I’m timid, I’m definitely not the fighter my brothers are.”

“And yet... you are wiser than you let on. You are kinder than either of them – though that is not to say I believe your brothers to be cruel, of course. My predecessor – the Oracle of the village before me – would often tell me that courage is not the absence of fear. It is the knowledge and acceptance of it.”

“I don’t know how anyone can just... stare down death like that.”

“Courage... is also understanding yourself. Your strengths. Your weaknesses.”

“But none of that matters now, anyway... you can’t be in a relationship... so I can’t have you...” Amara had always known the woman was stricken badly by love. She reached out and touched Mintaka’s shoulder, causing her to stop and face Amara.

“I would like to tell you a few things before you consign your feelings to oblivion.” Mintaka blinked, but nodded. “The first... is that I care greatly about you. While I would hesitate to call them love at the moment... know that it could easily become that. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for, you are wise, you are quick-witted as well. You very much are the kind of woman I could find myself loving.” A spark flashed in Mintaka’s eyes, but it was short-lived. “The second... is that I bear the title only as an echo of what I have lost. I am Oracle of Akalli Village no more. I am a woman of faith, and Linder is first in my heart as always... but the moment I left the village was the moment I denied myself passage into His realm when my life ends. It was a sacrifice I made willingly, and a sacrifice I would make willingly again, if needed.” More light returned to Mintaka’s eyes. If she had denied herself entry into Linder’s realm at the end of her life..

“...then... there’s a chance?” Amara nodded to her question.

“I will not refute your affections, Mintaka... but there is one more thing you must understand. You are not the only one who holds my heart. My caretaker in the village... she was ever so kind to me, and hid her feelings about as well as you did.” Amara tried not to laugh at this, but did smile. “Linderfolk do not believe in monogomy... those with a void in their hearts should ever seek another to fill it, and those who have a surfeit of love in their hearts should freely give it to those who need it. If you truly wish to pursue a relationship with me... know that you must be willing to share me with another.” Mintaka’s eyes lit up as though a star had been born within them.

“I don’t care about that! The fact that others love you just as strongly if not moreso just means you’re just as wonderful a person as I thought you were! One, ten, a hundred or a thousand, I don’t care how many I have to share you with... I’ll accept it! I’ll accept all of it, and all of them!” Amara smiled at the power with which Mintaka spoke these words. She had been prepared to test the woman’s dedication – humans have never been terribly open about their affections, thinking monogamy was the only way to go – but to see the fervor in her eyes, the power in her voice? There could be no question that there wasn’t a doubt in Mintaka’s mind that she didn’t care. Amara simply opened her arms to her, Mintaka taking the sign to throw herself into Amara’s embrace, the taller woman practically wholly engulphing her body in a hug.

“Do not think, however... that I will go easy on you if you decide to train with me.” Mintaka choked out a laugh at this.

“...wouldn’t dream of it, love... you have to be hard on me... I can’t call myself yours if I’m weak.”

Linderfolk were a strange people, by any standard. They forged all forms of relationships incredibly quick, and those bonds were adamantite, unbreakable by all but death; and even then, the heart still yearned for the deceased. Neither Mintaka nor Hikari would ever have to question if Amara still loved them... they would know daily; same as Amara would never have to question if they still loved her. Amara could start to feel the Angel of Death’s shadow fading into the dawning sun. She would no longer be crippled by that curse... no longer live in the shadows behind a sniper’s scope.

Chapter 14: Speaking from Experience

Chapter Text

Amara wasn’t a PvPer. She was in a PvP guild, yes... but generally, she didn’t get involved in the day-to-day dick-measuring contest that was YGGDRASIL PvP. She didn’t care who people played as, as long as they were good people at their core. Though... that didn’t mean that she wasn’t experienced. She had the (admittedly abysmal) experience of the Eight Guild’s Alliance to fall back on, and she was always willing to help the lower level players of the Crimson Crusaders hone their skills in controlled duels. “Your weapons are not designed for front-line combat.” Amara spoke later that evening, just outside Carne Village. She and Mintaka had taken a moment to hone their skills (moreso Mintaka’s) in a little sparring exercise. “You are also smaller than your brothers... you should use that speed to your advantage. Heavier armor will remove this advantage, and a shield will only slow you down. Your goal is to be the unseen dagger in the opponent’s back.” Mintaka nodded, taking in each and every one of Amara’s words as though they had come from on high. “Strike fast, strike true, and retreat before your opponent can even realize you were there.”

“You and I are a lot alike, then? I noticed you rely a lot on speed, too.” Amara nodded.

“Yes. I am completely unarmored, and if it were not for my speed and spells, that would be a death sentence. You must strike, and strike hard... but know when to retreat. Should a superior opponent turn its attention fully to you... it would not end well.”

“Understood.” Mintaka drew her weapons

“Let us see if you do.” She paced back and forth, one hand resting lazily upon her katana. “Your enemies may be many... and some may wear the face of a friend. Until I tell you to stop... you are to consider me an enemy. Attack me with all of your might, hold nothing back... for your opponents will do the same.” She drew her katana slowly and meaningfully, holding it before her in both hands.

“Seriously?” Mintaka asked, blinking in surprise at the order.

“If you are worried about harming me, do not. I believe I am at least equal to whatever fury you can muster.” That was putting it mildly, and judging by the crass, rough chuckle Mintaka eeked out, she knew it too.

“’At least equal’, she says... of the things I’ve seen you do, I think it’s safe to say you far outstrip me.”

“Focus on your training.” Amara mused with a nod. “We will discuss outstripping later.” The blush crossing Mintaka’s cheeks told Amara the playful jibe wasn’t lost on her.

“...that sounds like incentive if ever I’ve heard it.” Barely finishing this sentence, Mintaka charged Amara, both weapons to bear. Amara decided to see how she could deal with Mintaka without buffing herself before she resorted to – what she considered to be – cheating. Though, Amara would be loathe if she didn’t admit that Mintaka did have her at a bit of a disadvantage; being possessed of two weapons instead of Amara’s one.

With her opening strike, it became clear to Amara just how experienced Mintaka was. An obvious over-hand strike from her off-hand weapon – which Amara had effortlessly blocked – had been a feint for a more powerful thrust from her main hand weapon, Amara twisting her hips to pull her fleshy bits away from the attack. Pushing back on the lone sword in her off-hand, Amara managed to put some distance between herself and her attacker.

A bit away, Alnilam and Alnitak watch with confused faces as their other two party members assault one another – Mintaka proving to be swifter than either of the men thought, and Amara reasserting what they already knew. “...did we miss something?” Alnitak asked. The pair had just come back from discussing their travel plan with Garret to find Mintaka and Amara at each other’s throats.

“I always thought Mintaka liked the girl...” Alnilam responded, Alnitak stroking his chin as his brother advanced. “I should stop this-”

“A moment.” Alnitak spoke up, taking his brother’s shoulder. “Look at Amara’s face?” The pair looked at the broad, content smile on Amara’s face as she expertly parried and dodged Mintaka’s strikes. “I don’t think this is hostile... sparring, perhaps?”

“With actual weapons?” Alnilam rebutted. “Seems a tad careless, wouldn’t you agree?” The eldest just shrugged to this.

“Perhaps the Linderfolk do things differently... father did tend to coddle us when we were younger... Mintaka more than you or I.” Alnilam laughed to this, his posture softening.

“True... mother so disliked the idea of us following in his footsteps, and insisted we remain safe in all things...” The brothers advanced, but with more caution in their step. Neither of them wanted to openly admit it but... they both knew that if Amara ever turned hostile to them – truly – they wouldn’t stand a chance against her. When the boys entered Amara’s field of vision, she held a single hand up to Mintaka.

“A moment, Mintaka, rest.” Mintaka’s aggressive stance melted away instantly as she sheathed her swords at her side and smiled to her brothers, wiping a few beads of sweat from her brow.

“Afternoon. Is something amiss?” She asked Alnitak, who only chuffed a laugh.

“You gave us quite the start, sister... here’s ‘Lam and I thinking you had a falling out over... whatever it is women discuss on their off times.”

“Perish the thought.” Amara answered gently. “Your sister simply sought to become stronger, and asked if I would help her. I saw no reason to refuse her... but perhaps we should have selected a more opportune time?”

“Or told us, yes.” Alnilam fired back gently, nodding. “Honestly, I’m glad it was a misunderstanding. After what I saw you do to the De-” He cleared his throat, pausing. “...After what I saw you do earlier today, I didn’t think sister dearest had an ounce of a chance to win.”

“She is swift. Unrefined, but that can be changed. If you would like, I would love to help you two improve as well.” Alnitak bobbed his head at her words.

“Aye, that would be kind of you... and we’d both be fools to refute you. We’ll make time. Perhaps we’ll make use of the Adventurer’s Guild training area?” Amara smiled nervously at that. She didn’t like the idea of their training sessions being public knowledge... the las thing she needed was someone putting two and two together and getting an understanding of just how strong Amara was.

“Perhaps we should make it a private affair? I would be hard-pressed to train a hundred adventurers if they sought it.” Amara thought this was a believable lie... didn’t want a bunch of randos monopolizing her time.

“Ah, yes, that makes sense... there’s only so many hours in the day, after all.” Alnitak agreed.

“Let them find their own Oracle.” Mintaka chimed in. “This one’s ours.” Amara smiled kindly to the siblings, happy that they had at least bought her excuse (though it wasn’t a complete lie... there were only so many hours in a day)

“Anyway-” Alnitak continued. “If you’re curious, Alnilam and I spent the better part of an hour discussing our next step with our merchant friend. He’ll be leaving Carne first thing in the morning and heading back to E-Rantel, at which point our jobs will be complete... though he’s expressed interest in hiring us again when he’ll inevitably need to go back.” Amara suppressed the sarcastic comment she felt welling up. She was happy for the work, don’t get her wrong... but the redheaded woman’s oppressive stare and devil-may-care smile had worn on her over her few interactions with the woman... there was something decidedly unnatural about her, and Amara would be damned if she could point out what that was. She stuffed her growing concern about the redhead down into the pit of her stomach and nodded.

“That is good.” She concluded to respond with. “I should be happy for the steady income.” She kept her concerns about the redhead silent for now... even she herself couldn’t argue about how paranoid it sounded. Maybe it was the fact the woman was dressed like a maid? It felt very... strange. Niche almost... it felt as though that fact about her more than anything else should have bothered her far more than it did.

Amara and Mintaka spent the better part of the rest of the evening sparring with one another, their training sessions watched over by her brothers. As the day waned, many of the village’s Goblin residents came to watch, too; expressing interest in the two women sparring. Some had similar beliefs to Alnitak and Alnilam when they first walked up, that they had a disagreement, and this fight was genuine. A kind word and a laugh from one of the brothers was quick to silence such thoughts. After a few hours, it was clear however that while Amara had plenty stamina for such (for fear of sounding cruel) mediocre motions, Mintaka did not. As the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, the two sparring partners decided that some rest was in order. As Mintaka went off with her brothers for dinner, a firm hand clasped down upon Amara’s shoulder.

“Hey you.” The firm, playful tone of the redhead spoke from behind Amara, causing her to chuff a little in frustration.

“Good evening.” She stuffed the discomfort down into her and mustered her most polite tone. “May I help you with something?” She continued to be polite.

“No, I’m fine... I was more curious about you... you look tired. You hardly broke a sweat there.”

“The cool air does wonders for one’s complexion.” Amara answered half-heartedly.

“Still, I bet you’re tired.”

“A touch.” Amara admitted. “I was about to retire to bed for the night, so-”

“You wanna take a bath with me?” The redhead spoke randomly and quite suddenly. “There’s a little lake not to far from here... Enri says it’s nice and cool in the evening.”

“You... will excuse me if I decline? We hardly know one another, I do not think it proper to-”

“Ah, come on. Can’t get to know one another if we don’t take that first step, right?” In Amara’s experience, lunch was a more appropriate ‘first step’ than a bath... hell, even a ‘hi my name is blank’ would be more appropriate. Amara tried to measure her response, feeling more and more of the Angel of Death’s brusque, sometimes cruel manner of speaking when she was frustrated creeping up on her.

“I tried to take that first step and ask you your name... you did not give it.” Amara reminded her, the redhead smiling and rubbing the back of her head sheepishly.

“...yeah, sorry about that. I don’t really do meeting new people well... trying to branch out, ya know?”

“You certainly have quite the... unique way of showing interest.” Amara mused, remembering the woman licking her cheek.

“So so!” She responded quickly, taking Amara’s hand. “C’mon, indulge me!” Amara sighed heavily, smiling then shaking her head playfully.

“I do not believe you would accept no as an answer, were I to give it.” The woman beamed proudly.

“Nope!”

“Fine then, but on one condition... I must know your name.”

“Regina!” She answered firmly. “My name’s Regina.” Amara blinked.

“Just Regina? I was given to believe humans had last names, too.” Regina blushed playfully.

“Awww, already wanting to know what to change your name to?” Amara gave a static, dry laugh at that.

“You are bold, that I cannot deny. Fine then. Keep your secrets. I suppose indulging your odd request would be the least painful thing I have done today. Lead the way.” Regina grinned a broad, unsettling way, taking Amara’s hand and gently pulling her towards a small lake near the far back of the village. It was within the confines of the village’s wall, but had its own privacy wall built around it. Regina chatted about odd things (Amara would by lying if she said she was paying particular attention) before leading Amara into the small antechamber – a wooden shelving unit with baskets set into it giving it a very bathhouse feel (not that Amara had ever gone a bathhouse before) - then began to carefully remove her queer outfit. Amara did the same, noting that Regina wasn’t the least bit embarassed to disrobe before others; a trait not common to the humans of this world.

“That’s a very pretty ribbon you’re wearing... long too.” Regina noted as Amara rolled the Ribbon up gingerly.

“Thank you. It was a parting gift from a very dear friend.” She placed it atop her clothes in the basket – squeezing her geta between the basket and she shelf wall – then followed Regina to the lake. The small lake already had a handful of users – an elderly human man and his younger female counterpart, and about four of the goblin guards – but neither Amara nor Regina were bothered to have company.

“Evenin’, Regina!” One of the goblins spoke loudly, waving broadly to her. He was muscular and toned – unlike the pudgy, fat little demons that were the Plains Goblins she had been used to seeing – with olive-drab colored skin and strangely bright blue eyes. Regina waved back to him with an equally broad motion from her arm. The light steam that rose off the surface of the lake gave off a light lavander scent that relaxed Amara almost instantly. The two humans seemed delighted that their little private hotspring was getting so much use. Amara took a seat on a smooth, flat stone by the edge of the lake – a natural, sunken chair – and leaned against the well-kept stone sides. Regina – frustratingly – decided to sit right next to Amara. Amara tried to ignore this oh-so-obvious invasion of personal space (not that she had a problem with closeness, of course... but it was just on principle of the who was invading her space. Mintaka or Hikari? Sure, go right ahead. Alnilam? She wasn’t into guys sure, but at least she knew something about Alnilam past his name. Point was, the literal only thing she knew about this woman was her name was Regina, and she was potentially a weirdo.

“You took to that pretty fast.” Regina mused, Amara nodding.

“Indeed. Public bathing is nothing new to my people; nor is this form of closeness.”

“That’s a good split into what I wanted to talk to you about... your people.” Amara nodded.

“A popular discussion of late, I have noticed. What do you wish to know?”

“Well... I’ve never seen someone like you... what are you? Some kind of beastkin?”

“No.” Amara shook her head gently. “The mistake is easy to make, but a mistake nonetheless. We are... simply ‘Linderfolk’. Though we bear vulpine features, we are not beastkin.” Beastmen were around here, too apparently. Beastmen players ran rampant in YGGDRASIL, but most who played that kind of character (in her limited experience) were pet classes – tamers, warlocks, the like – that could summon and control animals or demons. It wasn’t the first time she’s been mistaken for a Beastman, and if Fate has it’s way, it won’t be the last time, either.

“Oh... really?” Her smile never faded. “Thought you were some kinda... werefox or something.” Werecreatures were another thing that differed greatly between east and west. Eastern Werecreatures looked like Amara – generally human with select animal features of their chosen beast – whereas Western Werecreatures were human during most of their lives, but changed into full-on bipedal animal-monsters during certain periods of time. Like dark elves, Amara had seen far more eastern versions of Werecreatures than Western; but YGGDRASIL had precious few western players; so their voice was decidedly the minority. In fact... some werecreatures had animal-like features that were so subtle they could almost be mistaken for human... stub tails that could be hidden easily in pants or under skirts, claws that could be concealed in heavy gloves, ears so small they could be hidden under hats, even one as small as Regina’s.

...funny, she still had her hat on.

Briefly shaking that thought from her mind, Amara continued to answer her question. “Not a common mistake, but one I have heard a few times.” In YGGDRASIL, of course. People here fell into two categories with Amara; either ‘what are you’ or ‘oh, you’re Linderfolk’. There seemed to be no in-between when it came to the people of this world. “I take no offense to it, so long as you do not persist in addressing me as such.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to offend. I’m just curious. I admit, I’ve not done a lot of travel in my life... in what travel I have done, I’ve never met one of your people.”

“Again, a common trait. We do not leave our villages without good reason.”

“And yours?” Amara blinked at that.

“I am sorry, my what?”

“Your reason for leaving. You said your people don’t leave without good reason.”

“Ah.” Amara nodded, closing her eyes to hide the minor concern in her gaze. She didn’t feel right spilling the whole story to this woman... something about her was... off. Fake. Like she was just pretending to be friendly. She didn’t feel that refusing to answer her question was the correct course of action, nor did she feel comfortable telling her the full version... nor did she feel like she had the time. “I am on a spiritual journey. To learn how the world has changed since our self-imposed exile, and to see if it is ready to welcome the Linderfolk back into society.” Not the complete truth; but she was still trying to get her feet under her and learn how this world varied from her previous one, so it wasn’t technically a lie, either.

“That sounds like a noble goal.” Regina smiled, settling into her seat and putting her arms out to the side on the rocks, which brought them behind Amara’s shoulders. “You must love your people immensely.”

“I do. My people are the second most important thing to me.”

“Second?” Regina asked, blinking. “Might I ask what might trump your love for your people?”

“My love for my God, Linder. It is by His divine grace that we live, it is by His tenents we abide, and it is by His will I am here today.”

“I see...” Regina nodded. “...I also have someone similar to your Linder. A being so great I would move heaven and earth to please.”

“Oh?” Amara mused, interested. Regina nodded.

“Mm-hmm. Someone I would die for... someone I’d kill for.”

“Has your God ever asked you to kill for him?” Regina laughed at this.

“No... no he hasn’t... but I still would. Over and over and over and over again...” She looked to Amara and smiled, embarassed. “Ahahahaha... sorry, that sounded a little sad*stic, didn’t it?”

“No, I... suppose I understand.” She failed to understand why a god would order someone to kill, she kind of understood that sometimes it was necessary. Amara, too, had killed for Linder, but not because He asked her to... but because in doing so, she furthered her goal, and in that same vein, Linder’s. “I suppose...” Amara spoke up again, smiling at her. “I suppose we are a little alike, are we not?” Regina smiled to her and nodded happily.

“I think so too. It’s nice to meet a kindred spirit.”

Regina and Amara spent an hour talking like old friends. Amara had opened up to Regina and decided that... yes. Yes, she was a weird one, but she wasn’t bad necessarily. And she was right, they had much in common. Amara never got the name of this figure whom Regina would kill for, but how she spoke so vauntedly about him made her understand what kind of being he was. One of great power, one possessed of great cruelty to those who crossed him, but possessed of a great kindness as well. Like Linder, he punished those who defied him, and rewarded those who served him faithfully.

By the end of their bath, Regina and Amara were laughing with each other like old friends, and Amara was no longer on guard around her. She enjoyed the strange woman’s conversation, and even began to find a strange comfort in her oppressive stare. In her old world, Amara had always associated the kind of stare Regina was want to give as hostile... as though she were an enemy sizing up Amara’s weaknesses. However, the more time she spent under that glare, Amara began to realize it was the look of someone who wanted to get to know her... and perhaps didn’t know how best to approach it. Strange, yes. A bit uncouth, certainly... but she wasn’t a bad person.

Regina waved good night to Amara as the Linderfolk returned to her borrowed lodging to sleep for the night. Tomorrow, the merchant and his escorts would be gone, and business can return to usual here in Carne. Regina knew he wasn’t going to be happy that she took the initiative to talk to the girl but... she had curiosities, and those curiosities had to be sated. Returning to her own abode, she quickly picked up one of the scrolls from her bedside table. “Message.” She spoke gently, tossing the scroll up and closing her eyes.

“Lupusregina.” Ainz’ voice filled her head. “Curious of you to contact me this late... has something happened?”

“I hope you don’t mind, Lord Ainz but... I spoke to the Oracle today.” There came a pause on the other end.

“I thought I told you to minimize contact with her?”

“You did, Lord Ainz, and I’m sorry for disobeying you but... just looking at her gave me this... feeling? You know? Like the feeling I get when I look at Narberal or CZ...” Another pause.

“What kind of feeling?”

“Familiarity, My Lord... I...” She scoffed for a moment, running a hand over one of her pigtails. “...you’ll think I’m crazy but... I think she’s like me.” A beat. “Like my sisters, likeDemiurge and Sebas...”

“An NPC?” Ainz elaborated, Lupusregina nodding.

“Yes, My Lord. She spoke of her god and... call me crazy, but he sounds like a Supreme Being.” There came a long, long pause from Ainz and Lupusregina could almost hear him scratching his chin, deep in thought.

“Interesting.” He settled on. Lupusregina had noted that ‘interesting’ was his go-to phrase whenever he was caught off-guard by something, but wasn’t mad about it. An emotion Lupusregina supposed could be called ‘interest’ in the most matter-of-fact terms. “How certain are you of this?”

“Not completely... but very certain.” She nodded.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention... but Lupusregina?”

“Y-yes, My Lord?” His voice had taken a serious turn towards the end of that sentence, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I thank you for taking the initiative... but next time seek my permission first. You didn’t mention anything about Nazarick, did you?”

“No, of course not, My Lord. I would never endanger you or Nazarick so readily.” She spoke with certainty, Ainz picking up that certainty without a doubt.

“Very good. Thank you, Lupusregina.” With that, the mental message ended, leaving Lupusregina worn out... that was the first time she had ever gotten anything that resembled a scolding from Lord Ainz...

“...don’t want that again...” She sighed, exhaling heavily.

The rest of Orion’s Belt’s stay in Carne Village was uneventful, the group heading back to E-Rantel the next morning with a broad smile and a genuine thanks from both Nifrea and Enri. Amara had given Mintaka the seat next to the weathered old merchant and decided to pass the time in the back with her brothers. To say the accommodations were uncomfortable would have been an understatement; several large crates of goods (textiles, were Amara a betting woman) monopolized ninety percent of the carriage, giving Amara and the two brothers only precious few inches of wiggle room. Amara and the brothers made light talk (at least during the half of the trip the two were awake) as they went, all the while Amara thought back to her interaction with Regina. She was... still quite the strange woman, but Amara didn’t think she was bad. Just... awkward as all hell. Probably grew up a bit like her (that is, Clementine Morrison), sequestered away from most people and living a sheltered life. Clementine had to force herself to learn social graces (though they were wholly useless in her profession) by forcing interactions with people. It wasn’t that the Angel of Death couldn’t interact with people... it was that most people didn’t want to interact with her, especially in her work life. Regardless, Amara looked forward to her next trip to Carne Village.

Chapter 15: The Calm Before the Storm

Chapter Text

Amara enjoyed traveling. Enjoyed seeing nature’s beauty (especially in this world, where nature actually was beautiful) and enjoyed meeting new people, even awkward weirdos like Regina... but there was just nothing that beat returning home after a long trip and enjoying your own things – your own bed, your own home, your own everything. Of course, nothing was really hers to begin with – save for the statuette she prayed to every day – but that didn’t lessen the feeling at all. It was late evening by the time their wagon rolled into E-Rantel, the original members of Orion’s Belt had decided to snooze for a bit to remain rested while Amara remained away to maintain vigilance.

Their conversation with Garret was short after they had pulled into town. He had told them that he was going to procure what Carne Village needed and he would be posting another request within a day or so for escort back. Everyone seemed quite content with the prospect of recurring employment (even if it was just one more job) and agreed whole-heartedly that they would keep an eye out for his request in the near future. Waving the four adventurers a farewell, Garret trotted his cart farther into the quiet streets of E-Rantel to return himself home. He had dropped the group off at the Adventurer’s Guild so they could collect their reward for the mission.

“Well! That was quite the entertaining distraction... who’s up for a drink?” Alnitak spoke up, causing the other two Rigel siblings to confirm that it sounded like a lovely idea.

“I will join you, but I will have to pass on the drink.”

“Ah... right... can’t drink, forgot...” Alnitak smiled sheepishly. “...maybe we shouldn’t, just to be polite?”

“No no, please. Enjoy yourselves.” Amara confirmed, smiling to him brightly. “Besides, it is best for one of us to remain sober.”

“You heard the lady.” Alnilam slapped his brother in the upper back playfully and turned him towards the Guild. “You can buy the first drink.” Alnitak laughed, pushing open the door to the Guild as the four stepped in. The interior was busy this evening – dozens of adventurers from various groups enjoyed a meal and a drink to while away the rest of the day. As the four members of Orion’s Belt entered, the chatter and general liveliness of the room quickly faded, voices silencing and all eyes turning to them. Alnitak stopped half a dozen steps in and looked around.

“...why is everyone looking at us?” He asked quietly, turning his head to his brother, who just shrugged. Alnilam – in turn – looked to Mintaka, who echoed the motion.

“...that’s them...” Amara heard one voice whisper somewhere in the crowd.

“...can’t be... them? Take down a legendary creature?” A second responded.

“...look at them, they’re scrawny... and only irons...!” Came another voice in another direction. The group pressed on towards the counter, where several receptionists were waiting for them. Mintaka was obviously nervous to be the center of attention, and it was equally clear neither of the brothers were any more comfortable. Amara shut the piercing glares out and lead the group up to the counter.

“Welcome back.” One of the receptionists spoke in a muted, almost reverent tone. “Guildmaster Ainzach wishes to speak with you.” She spoke again, quickly before anyone could interrupt her. She motioned towards the side of the counter where the hatch allowed the receptionists to enter, inviting them back. Amara shared a quick look to the other three, who seemed to nudge her forward. Looks like she was pointman for this... question was, were they in for a dressing down, or dismissal? Amara turned and took a quick breath, leading her group on to the back of the Guild.

The receptionist who greeted them led them through a single door and into the back of the Adventurer’s Guild, adjacent to the kitchens. She pushed down the long hallway – the scents and sounds of cooking meals wafting through – towards the back, where a lone room rested off to Amara’s left. The receptionist stood off the side of the door and motioned to it with her hand. “Please, go inside and have a seat.”

“Are we in trouble?” Alnilam asked, the young receptionist – a black-haired woman with kind eyes – only smiled and shook her head.

“Nothing of the sort.” She reaffirmed her motion for them to enter, and after sharing a quick glance with each other, Amara and the rest entered. The room on the other side of the door was an office – a well apportioned office – with a grand oak desk in the center and a high-back, plush chair behind the desk. Seated in that high-back chair was the familiar face of Pluton Ainzach, the Adventurer’s Guild Guildmaster. He looked to the door as it opened and smiled to them.

“And here are the men and women of the hour.” He motioned to four chairs across from him. “Please, have a seat.” He looked to the door – still open – and spoke again. “Rell, show the other two in please.” The kind-eyed woman nodded and shut the door, leaving to find the ‘other two’ he mentioned. Once the door was closed, Pluton’s stern visage broke into a caring smile. “You continue to impress, Oracle.” He spoke, Amara tilting her head to the side curiously.

“Do I? It was a simple enough escort mission, Guildmaster... hardly something praiseworthy.” Pluton’s smile widened.

“And humble, too. So, you’re sticking with your story, then? Did anything out of the ordinary happen while you were in Carne?”

“No, sir.” Amara answered simply. He looked to the others.

“And would you concur?” He asked. Alnitak and Alnilam both nodded to this, Mintaka speaking up.

“Of course. We did our job and returned. Sure, it took a bit longer than we anticipated, but that was because Garret had recieved requests for more items then usual, and needed time to categorize them all.” It was a well-rehearsed lie they had all agreed upon: nothing unusual happened at Carne. Besides, even if they did tell everyone about the Death Knight – as Amara mentioned – no one would believe them in a million years, not without some kind of proof. Pluton leaned back in his chair and chuffed a little, about the time a knock came to the door.

“Sir?” It was Rell’s voice that spoke. “Darkness is here.”

“Send them in.” Darkness? What did she mean by that? Sure, it was almost nightfall, but she hardly thought she would be-

As Amara was questioning what she meant, the door opened and it hit her instantly. Squeezing his massive form through the door was the tall, stacked Adventurer in full-plate armor (his greatswords not present on his back) and his smaller magic caster companion (who looked as glum as usual). The two stood near the exit to the room, the girl practically blocking the door. “Amara, you’ve met Darkness, yes? One of our most promising up-and-coming parties?” Ah, now she remembered where she had heard the name. Delilah had mentioned it was Darkness that had brought her back to the Guild after the cemetery event... she had forgotten their names.

“We have met, yes.” Amara nodded to the pair. “How are you to today?”

“Well.” The hulking swordsman spoke simply, the magic caster just nodding to her.

“Mr. Momon, would you kindly show the Oracle what you showed me?” The hulking swordsman nodded and reached into a satchel at his side.

“I possess a magical artifact capable of capturing images of whatever I wish it to... a moving painting, if you will.” He spoke in that deep, rumbling voice that shook Amara to the core. He definitely had ‘Big Bad Evil Guy’ energy with his voice and imposing size. He removed his hand from his satchel and retrieved a small, impossibly clear crystal orb, placing it on the desk between Orion’s Belt and Pluton. “Yesterday, Nabe and I had been on a hunt, tracking particularly vicious prey. A Death Knight had been sighted in the vicinity of Carne Village, and Nabe and I took it upon ourselves to hunt the beast. Amara felt her heart pang, but her highly-tuned ability to bullsh*t her way out of anything kicked in, showing no emotion on her face.

“With the skill and dexterity you dispatched the undead in the cemetery, I trust it was no issue for you?” Amara asked, keeping her voice as level as she could. Momon tapped the crystal with two fingers, a small hologram appearing above it. It showed Amara’s fight with the Death Knight in crystal-clear fidelity, leaving no room for denial anymore.

“From the looks of things... it proved no issue for you.” Amara sighed, shaking her head.

“If you are cross that we stole your quarry, you must not be. If there was an official bounty on the beast, you are welcome to claim it; neither I nor my party will argue with you.” Amara spoke evenly. From the looks on the other’s faces, they knew this particular group. Mintaka nodded, echoing Amara’s sentiment wholly.

“That’s not it.” Pluton cut in. “I’m curious... why you would slay such a beast – a creature that only appears once every hundred years – and say nothing about it.” Amara smiled gently at his question.

“To be fair, Guildmaster... we did just return. You hardly gave us a chance to do much.” Pluton smiled at this a bit crassly, knowing she was right... but they both knew what he meant. “However...” Amara continued. “The answer to your question is quite obvious. We said nothing... because I was confident no one would believe us. We had no proof, save for our own words... which I did not believe would carry us far.”

“You were afraid of being ridiculed.” Pluton observed. Well, to be fair... Amara was more afraid of standing out like a sore thumb than not having people believe her; but he wasn’t wrong. “I can understand that. Had it not been for Darkness’ little artifact, I scarcely would believe it myself.”

“I was quite serious when I said that if Darkness wishes for any bounty on the beast, they are more than welcome to it.” Amara continued, the other members of Orion’s Belt nodding in agreement. “They were, after all, the ones who were hunting it. We were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“We’ll split it.” Momon spoke suddenly, causing Amara to look at him. “I believe it is only fair you be duly compensated for your efforts.” He looked to Amara and the rest of the group in turn. “This is agreeable, yes?”

“If you believe it to be, far be it from us to argue.” Amara smiled to him. “Thank you ever so much for your generosity.” Momon stared at her through that soulless visor, and for a moment, Amara felt as though she had failed some kind of test... after a moment, however, he just nodded to her.

“Don’t mention it.” He looked to Pluton. “See to Orion’s Belt’s half of the reward first. Nabe will be around in a bit to pick up our half.”

“Of course.” Pluton agreed with a nod.

“Oracle?” Momon continued, causing Amara to shift her gaze back to him and blink. “I question your decision to continue to interact with people who are... for lack of better terms and please do not take offense... inferior to you.” Amara’s gaze hardened a little, but she kept her friendly demeanor.

“It is true that I am... more talented than my peers... but I do not see myself as superior to anyone. They are my friends, it is as simple as that. I will not lord my skills over them, but I will instruct them on how to bring out their own latent talent. As a good friend should.” If Amara wasn’t mistaken, she could almost see Momon’s smile behind the helmet.

“Yes... of course. Excuse me, I meant no disrespect, of course.”

“I took no offense, sir.” Amara responded gently, causing Momon to nod, then turn to Nabe.

“Did you have anything to add, Nabe?” Nabe stared long and hard at Amara for a good few seconds, her gaze halfway between interest and contempt. After a choked moment, she loosened her stance and shook her head.

“No, Mr. Momon.” She responded simply.

“Why don’t you four go get some rest?” Pluton chimed in to Orion’s Belt. “You’ve had a long two days and I can’t imagine you’re not itchin’ for some sleep. We’ll have everything ready in a few hours for someone to pick up.” Amara and the rest stood, Amara and Mintaka bowing to Pluton.

“Thank you, Guildmaster. You are too kind.” The four politely made their way past Darkness and returned to the Guild proper, where business seems to have returned to normal. Orion’s Belt wasted no time returning to their rooms, as though business had returned to normal in the guild, everyone could still feel an uncomfortable amount of eyes upon them. Once they had a door and four walls between them and everyone else, Mintaka and her brothers managed to breathe easier.

“Well.” Alnitak spoke up, exhaling gently. “...that was terrifying.”

“Quite.” Alnilam agreed, Mintaka shivering.

“...I have no idea how anyone can be looked at by so many people...” She sat herself on one of the beds and held her head in her hands.

“It gets easier the more you endure it. Back in my village, I had many people look up to me... and yes, it was difficult at first...” No it wasn’t. “...but in time I began to get used to it... I even enjoyed it.” Mintaka gave a rough, course laugh.

“...just another reason why you’re so great, I guess...”

“I never said that, nor do I think that. I meant what I said, you are my friends, and that will never change.”

“Unless we all die, of course.” Alnitak chimed in with a smile that did not befit his words. Amara just shook her head.

“No. Even then-” She reached into her satchel and removed Eclipse’s tags from within. “-my friends will always be close to me.”

“...okay full disclosure?” Alnilam pointed to her tag collection. “...a little creepy.” Amara blinked to him.

“Why? I was unable to get anything to remember them by, nor was I allowed to even try to save them. The Guild would have just thrown them away, I see no problem in keeping their memory close.”

“Plus, there’s this rumor of that woman who wore the tags of adventurers she’s killed as clothes?” Mintaka spoke up. Amara blinked.

“That is a strange rumor...”

“Well, like I said, it’s just rumor. I’ve never run into anyone like that, and I don’t know anyone who has... in fact, whenever I bring it up, no one wants to talk about it... so it’s either a gross misappropriation... or an outright fabrication.” She shrugged.“Or it’s true and no one wants to think about it... Regardless, if you’re just keeping them as memories, it’s not all that bad...”

“Just a little creepy at face value.” Yes, Amara could see that. It’s why she wasn’t wearing them openly, but holding on to them in her satchel.

“This doesn’t make any sense...” Aura grumbled to herself, running both hands rapidly through her head. “UGH! Why does she look so familiar!?” Mare – watching his sister pace back and forth in frustration – simply smiled, not knowing what else to do.

“Maybe she just... ah... has one of those faces? You know?” Mare tried, attempting to reassure his sister she wasn’t going crazy. Aura shook her head quickly at that.

“No, not a face like that...” She grumbled, slumping down into a chair. “And it’s not just her face! It’s everything about her! When I was watching her fight the Death Knight, I just... I just wanted to get in there and fight her, too! It was this... primal, burning desire... I yearned to fight her again!”

“Again?”

“...yeah, that’s the strange part... I feel like we’ve fought before.” Aura looked just as confused about her own words as Mare was.

Amara and the rest of Orion’s Belt decided that – aside from taking Garret back to Carne Village in a day or so – they were going to lay low for a bit. Rumors had already made their rounds through the Guild about the Death Knight and while most were understandably skeptical about it, there were enough who at least had the potential to believe it. They had found out a few hours after their talk to Darkness and the Guildmaster that a promotion to Silver was included in their reward, which officially brought Orion’s Belt into the upper echelons of Adventurers. Iron was the baseline, about where most common adventurers sat. Any higher and you started to get into super-human categories... at least by this world’s standards.

“Phwhaaaa...” Alnitak exhaled audibly as he looked at the glimmering silver plate about his neck. “...so that just happened...” He recentered his vision and ran a hand through his hair. “Dad’s gonna be stoked when he hears.”

“Speaking of...” Alnilam mused. “...we have some time until Garret’s ready... think we should pay home a visit?” Amara would be lying if she said she was anxious to go spend time with people she didn’t know. “I’m sure mom’s beside herself with worry.”

“True...” Alnitak responded. “Sister?”

“Seeing mom and dad sounds good.” Mintaka smiled brightly. “I miss mom’s cooking anyway...” She laughed a little. “Not that the guild doesn’t do good but... can’t beat home cooked.”

“If that is the case-” Amara nodded to them. “I will see you tomorrow morning?”

“What are you talking about?” Alnilam mused. “You’re coming with us.”

“I would not want to impose... they are your family, after all.” As Amara finished, Mintaka took her Amara’s arm and hugged it tightly to her chest.

“You’re part of our group, Amara... and integral to our recent success.” Both brothers nodded to this in agreement. “...and besides... if we’re going to be together, you’ll have to meet them eventually...” Amara watched out of the corner of her eye as Alnitak nudged Alnilam; the ladder rolling his eyes and slipping something into the former’s waiting palm. Were they... betting on something?

“Well... if your brothers have no issue with it...”

“None!” Alnitak announced proudly. “She’s right, you know... without you, none of us would have advanced as far as we had...” He chuckled a little. “I’ll admit that I feel a touch undeserving of the rapid advancement... like we’re just clinging onto your tail and trying to keep up.”

And so they did. Using the rest of their time away from work (checking up that Garret still had at the least a full day before he would be ready to go) Orion’s Belt had returned to where it had all started. Turned out, the life of a former Platinum-Ranked Adventurer was a pretty cushy one. They lived in a medium-sized house – not what Amara would call a mansion (by either world’s standards) - but it was definitely large enough to support a family of five. Mintaka was first to clear the front garden and knock on the door with a broad smile on her face. Amara – slowing down to take in the surroundings – had fallen behind the two brothers as they caught up with their younger, far more energetic sister.

“Coming!” A powerful male voice spoke from the other side. The door opened to a large, barrel-chested man dressed in a fine doublet and trousers. He had the same black hair as the three siblings, but a much more majestic beard and moustache upon his face. “Mini!” He smiled upon seeing his daughter, scooping the girl up.

“Hehehee.... hey daddy!” She cooed, nuzzling into her father’s embrace.

“Also, we’re here.” Alnitak smiled playfully, waving.

“Of course I care! C’mere boys!” He pulled the two brothers into a hug as well. “Aaaah, what’s the occasion? My three wonderful kids returning home?”

“Weeeeell...” Mintaka stretched out playfully. “We just got promoted to Silver!” She held her head high at this, showing the silver plate against her armor.

“No kidding! I knew you three had it in you!” He hugged them again. “C’mon, your mother’s gonna be so stoked to see you, I-” He looked up, finally seeing Amara standing a bit behind them. “Oh... hello there. I didn’t see you.” Amara just smiled and bowed to him.

“Good morning, sir.” She spoke simply. “I did not want to interrupt your reunion.”

“Nonsense...” His gaze flicked to the adventurer’s plate under her neck. “...a fellow Silver?”

“Daddy... this is Amara Akusa... she’s actually our fourth member.”

“And the reason we’ve been having such a windfall of late.” Alnilam admitted. “Would you mind if she stayed for a bit?”

“Mind? Of course not.” His rigid professionality faded, giving way to a much softer, personal appearance. “Any friend of my kids is welcome in my house... especially one as exotic and well-mannered as you.”

“You are too kind. Am I to assume you are Orion Rigel?” The barrel-chested man nodded broadly.

“Aye, that I am! Kids been talkin’ me up?”

“You were mentioned more than once, yes.” The man looked at her, scratching his chin.

“Hmm... you’re an Oracle, ain’t’cha?”

“Oh? You have heard of my people? Yes, I am. Oracle Amara Akusa, at your service.” She bowed again.

“...that explains a lot.” He patted Mintaka’s head. “Mini, take your brothers and give your mother some love, would you?” Amara knew that start off a mile away. Mintaka nodded and the three went into the house, leaving Amara alone with Rigel. “Heard a lotta things about your people. Some terrible... most good.”

“I take no offense. I understand some of our traditions and mindsets can be viewed rather one-sidedly.” Amara dipped her head a bit, understanding too well what he meant.

“Don’t misunderstand, I’m not judging you. More... curious. Might I ask why you joined up with my kids?”

“Well, at first? It was an alliance of necessity. I wished to advance in the Guild, but lacked a party to do so after my previous one met an unfortunate end.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“As am I. I will admit that – at first – it was for this reason alone I agreed when your eldest approached me. However, as we have spent more time with one another, I have begun to view them as family. Your sons are quite wise, and cautious when needed; and Mintaka is quite the battery of cheery.” Rigel laughed loudly at that.

“Damn right she is.” He continued to watch her.

“And... I will admit to having feelings for your daughter, but those have only sprung up very recently.”

“Ah... so you know about that, huh?”

“She has told me, yes. It took her a great amount of courage to admit such a thing.”

“I know it’s kinda common among your people but... sapphics aren’t terribly common in humans.”

“I am aware. I plan on treating her as the special gift she is.” He nodded to her response.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” He paused for a moment, looking her over. “Are you planning on converting her?”

“Only if she wishes. I will not force another to follow my faith. There is simply enough of that in the world with the Theocracy.”

“Hah!” Orion scoffed loudly, nodding. “Ain’t that the truth.” He patted Amara’s back and motioned her into the house. “Alright, I’ve kept you long enough... come on in.” As they walked into the medium-sized house, Amara was greeted by the sounds of a happy family, reunited after far too long apart.

“Come now, Mother.” Alnitak’s voice spoke happily. “You know as well as I we take care of baby sister as any good brothers should.”

“Well, excuse me for worrying-” An unfamiliar mature female voice answered Alnitak’s quip. “-but you know as well as I how dangerous your profession is. Your father scraped through with no shortage of wounds himself... made his mother worry immensely too.”

“I don’t feel that’ll be a problem, mother. Especially since it’s not just us.” About this time, Amara and Orion stepped back into the kitchen to find the three siblings seated at the dining table – a plate, fork and knife before them – in a relaxed position as they spoke with a mature blonde-haired woman with kind blue eyes. Alnilam turned his attention to Amara and smiled to her. “Mother, this is Amara, our fourth member.” Amara smiled to her and bowed.

“Good morning. I apologize for my unannounced visit.”

“Oh, she’s the cutest thing!” Their mother beamed happily at Amara, standing from her place at the table and advanced upon the much smaller Linderfolk. She looked Amara over – both hands on the Linderlass’ shoulder – as she took her in. “The kids told me about you, but I wouldn’t believe you were such a small thing...” She turned back and glared at Alnitak. “You didn’t tell me she was so adorable!” Mintaka giggled lightly at the comment.

“I did, mom... it wasn’t just because I think she’s cute.” Mintaka responded, causing her mother to puff her cheeks out in frustration.

“My kids are cruel, keeping such a cute little thing like you to themselves...” She ran her hands idly across Amara’s shoulders. She reminded her a little of the better days with her own mother – that is, the Angel of Death’s mother – before she started hating her. Her own mother was a kind woman oh so many years ago... before the Angel of Death was even born. In her last life, her mother had always been kind, but the day Angel decided to come out as a lesbian, everything shifted. She thinks this was more the ‘beginning of the end’ than anything else, as precious few weeks after that, she joined the Death’s Head, and her mother definitely didn’t like that. It was one of those compounded issues thing... everything just stacked on top of each other, and before Angel knew it, she had lost all connection to home. Of course, as far as her fellows in the Company were concerned, her mother and her were still on speaking terms. She used ‘visiting mother’ as a reason for leave a lot... when in actuality, it was to go back to YGGDRASIL.

“Please do not think ill of them, ma’am. They are keeping me from a lot of people at the moment.” The brothers laughed boisterously at the comment, nodding in agreement.

“Aye, I suppose we are. But the other parties can’t have you, ‘cause you’re ours.” Their mother continued to stroke Amara’s hair.

“Are you hungry, dear? We were just about to sit down to breakfast.”

“If you are not against the idea, I would appreciate joining you, yes.”

“Oh my, so polite... You should rub off a little more on my boys...” Amara heard the brothers laugh. “Have a seat, darling... it’ll be out in just a bit, okay?” Amara thanked her with a bow and took the seat next to Mintaka – who out of the three seemed the most pleased to present Amara to her parents; putting the smaller Linderfolk up on a pedestal for display. Orion’s Belt spent a little bit of time just enjoying the downtime with Orion and his wife (whom Amara had discovered was named Meissa). As breakfast was brought out, Amara offered a silent, quick prayer of thanks to Meissa’s kindness, and thanking Linder for such kind people. Both parents seemed rather chuffed at her wholly unnecessary but not unwelcome prayer, thanking her for her kindness as well.

“To those who are obligated to serve us food – restaruant owners and our own parents – it is enough to thank them for simply doing what is right, or what their job entails. However, you certainly did not have to invite me in; nor did your darling children have to invite me over-”

“In fact, she wasn’t going to at first.” Mintaka beamed. “We made her come.”

“You offered, I accepted.” Amara corrected her lightly. “As I was saying, your children did not have to invite me over, and I am thankful that Linder has directed me to such wonderful people in my life; and I will ever be grateful for the kindness of others. So-” Amara turned her attention to both parents. “-thank you for your kindness, and thank you for this wonderful meal.”

Amara turned to her food, and the group began to eat (Rigel and Meissa happy for the company and the company their children had found). Amara was reminded more of her own mother as she ate the home cooked meal... strangely enough it was memories of both her real mother, as well as Amara’s mother. It was strange, though Amara knew that she had only been here a little under two months, as she thought of her mother (that was Amara’s Linderfolk mother) the more memories began to appear, as though they had been there the whole time. She noticed a similar phenomena when she would speak to Hikari and reminisce; memories that hadn’t been there had just began to fade in from the aether, and before long they were so vivid she would swear upon her life that they had been there the whole time. In this case, the happy memories of her Earthbound mother had begun to merge into the happy memories of her Linderfolk mother, and before long, Amara couldn’t tell the difference between the two... almost as if her Linderfolk mother had thrown away all the terrible memories of her Earthbound mother and replaced them with her own memories.

“...Amara...?” Mintaka spoke about halfway through breakfast, leaning a bit over her plate to look at Amara.

“Hmm?” Amara responded, blinking as she was broken from her reverie. “Yes?”

“Are you... okay?” Amara just managed a weak smile and nodded.

“I am fine, why do you ask?”

“It’s just...” Mintaka began, motioning to her own eyes. “...you’re crying.”

“I am?” Amara reached up and touched her cheek under her eye to find that... indeed she was. Tears had been pouring down her face for the better part of a few minutes, and she had been none the wiser about it. “A-ah... I am...” Her face flickered from a smile to frown, then back to a smile before she nodded. “There is nothing to worry about, Mintaka... it is just a bit of silliness on my end... I was remembering my own mother...” Amara steadied herself and gently banished the tears with her napkin.

“Is she dead...?” Mintaka asked.

“Mini!” Her father chastised her gently.

“No, it is okay.” Amara reassured him. “Yes, Linder called her home about five years ago... about the same time he called the previous Oracle back. They were very close, you see, and when my predecessor was called back, she... could not take the heartache; and it killed her.” She managed a weak smile. “It is one of the admittedly glaring disadvantages of my people. We form very quick and strong bonds with others but... should those individuals we bond with die it... is often fatal.” She took a deep breath and centered herself. “I apologize, I did not mean to bring the mood down-”

“Don’t worry about it, Amara. We’re happy you have fond memories of your mother.” Amara just smiled to Orion’s words and nodded.

“Very fond... thank you for your understanding. Now! Let us not let this wonderful meal grow cold.”

Trials of Faith (Director's Cut) - Xenolord (2024)

Chapter 1: Prologue: YGGDRASIL

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Chapter 2: Fate Eclipsing the Raven Death

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Chapter 3: Trial by Fire

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Chapter 4: An Easy Start

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Chapter 5: Healthcare Problems

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Chapter 6: The Final Eclipse

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Chapter 7: Black Scripture

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Chapter 8: Mass for the Dead

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Chapter 9: Orion's Hope

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Chapter 10: Intermission: The Angel of Death

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Chapter 11: Opportunities and Offers

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Chapter 12: To Carne Village!

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Chapter 13: A Test; the First of Many

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Chapter 14: Speaking from Experience

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Chapter 15: The Calm Before the Storm

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References