Dear Heather,

I know you are confused and looking for answers. I am sorry things had to be this way, but there was no other option. They can erase anything they want from the world, but we learned they don't understand necromancy and how the dead work. They copied it from games with little understanding of how it's used. This has opened up all sorts of doorways for us to hide things, even from them, and preserve what we have learned.

The key is the buffer. They can't seem to detect our tampering with it. Anything we hide there stays there until we call it back. The others are working on a way to manipulate the buffer and change the respawn. They think they can alter it, so nobody ever resets, and players can change races and classes while keeping their levels after death. For some reason, they don't want this and are desperate to keep us out. It is hard to work in secret from them, but they understand so little about what is really going on.

Our plans are different, of course. We were using their discoveries to further our efforts to free those who are trapped here. We found a way to punch holes between the layers and go where they didn't want us to go. That secret can't be recorded here. If they ever found this, all would be ruined.

As smart as they are, they don't seem to grasp how we see things or think. They also never encountered a race that understood technology. I suspect we are the first race ever to attack the game engine itself and exploit the weaknesses. They are trying to shut down the holes but were not prepared to defend themselves from us. They are very slow to identify threats and move to stop them. The damage you did to the sun is proof of that.

I wish I could tell you more, but it has to be a secret. You can't know the truth until your ready to use it. One word of warning, though, don't trust him or his girlfriend. You know who I am talking about. He said he loved you, but only to see his plan through. They will promise to help you again, of that we are sure. Don't accept and run as fast as you can. They ruined everything and almost cost us our hiding place. You must find us, Heather. You have to finish what we started, as you promised you would. It is the only way we will ever go home.

P.S. Take the egg where it belongs. It will answer an important question but raise another, oh and tell Umtha I miss her and have her show you the magic of the dress I made her. It is important.

-Hathlisora

Lred, Rblue, Rgreen, Ryellow, Lred, Lorange.

Heather silently read through the letter, unsure of how she felt. Frank and the others waited nearby watching ever twitch until she dropped her hand and looked up.

“It's addressed to me,” she said while rechecking the name. She sighed to see it was still her name and looked to the others.

“From Who?” Quinny asked when everybody else failed to respond.

“Hathlisora,” Heather replied and began to read it again. The lines went by as her eyes searched for anything that made sense. When she reached the end, Breanne came through the door in her elven form. She smiled to see Heather and walked across the room with graceful steps.

“I just checked on your room; I am glad to see you are awake,” Breanne said then looked around to wonder why the others were so silent. “Alright, what's wrong now?”

Heather held out the paper and shook it as the others remained silent. Breanne took it from her hand with a concerned glance at Heather. She read through it slowly, brows creasing at the very end before looking up.

“Where did you get this?”

Heather explained, noticing the light while chasing the wizard and returned to investigate what it was. The rest made Breanne nod as she handed the letter to Frank so he could read it. He took a minute to go over the document and then smiled a grisly smile.

“Well, this proves you’re not Hathlisora,” he said excitedly.

Heather shook her head. “This only makes it worse. Hathlisora is talking to me like I am her friend. She said I promised I would help finish what they started. It means I have lost a memory or lots of memories for all I know.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Frank offered. “There is still the possibility that this is all the visitors doing. They might have chosen you just to play this role and learn something.”

“Hmm,” Heather replied with a rub at her chin. “So they could have made all this up just to see how I would deal with it, like a test of human nature.”

“They did make this world to learn about us,” Quinny offered.

“That doesn’t explain the wizard,” Breanne pointed out. “He was obviously a player, and he claimed to be working with her too. We all heard it from the room with the floor trap.”

“Could he be working with the visitors?” Frank posited.

“I have never heard a player helping the visitors with some elaborate plan,” Breanne replied. “None of us has ever seen a visitor.”

“The letter says I am working against the visitors,” Heather said as Frank handed it to Quinny. “It also says they can erase things, like memories.”

“It doesn't' say memories,” Frank countered, but Heather began to pace.

“It doesn't say what they can erase. It could be memories. It could be things. It could be both. All we know is they are trying to stop something I was working on. They were erasing things, and we found a way to protect some of it.”

“What is this bit about the sun?” Legeis asked as he read the letter with Quinny.

Heather noted the look Breanne gave Frank as he shrugged in return. Clearly, they had some insight into that topic they were hesitant to share. She paused in her steps as Frank scratched at his head and looked nervous.

“Do you have something to say?” Heather asked, looking at him directly.

“Remember when you first arrived, I told you the sun was broken?” he began. “It wasn't always like that. It used to work just like you would expect. It was broken when I got here, but I spoke to other players who said they saw it working perfectly. Most people believed it was a glitch in an update because there were a lot of changes made at the same time.”

“When was the last time the sun worked properly?” Heather asked

He looked uncomfortable and sat on his heels as his gaze fell on Breanne. She took a deep breath and continued the conversation.

“It happened just before the attack on the necromancers,” she said. “I was here to see the change and the aftermath. Some people suggested it was related, but those people were harassed or driven away.”

“So,” Heather began as she looked down, lost in thoughts. “The sun used to work and broke just before the necromancers were attacked.” She paced a few steps and leaned on her scythe as another thought came to mind. “Umtha and the goblins said Hathlisora died just before the attack as well.”

“She never said that,” Frank challenged.

Heather shook her head and tried to remember Umtha’s exact phrasing. “She said three necromancers came with the crown and told her Hathlisora was dead, and that the necromancers were being wiped out. I suppose she could have died after the conflict started, but I could be right, and her death might be connected to the sun.”

“Umtha is here, we could always ask her if she knows,” Quinny suggested.

Heather nodded and continued her thought. “The letter says I am involved in its breaking. The sun, Hathlisora, and the necromancer war all happen right at the same time. I could have been involved in all of it. I could have been a necromancer before.” Heather began to pace again as the idea that the current state of the sun was her fault. “Let’s focus on what the letter doesn’t say,” Heather suggested. “What does this letter being here waiting for me imply?”

“One thing to consider is Hathlisora knew you would come here,” Legeis said.

“And befriend the goblins,” Quinny added.

“It could still be manipulation,” Frank suggested. “Lot’s of video games use careful hooks to draw a player in.”

“But to kill the gremlin just before she needed the stone to find the crown and save the goblins?” Quinny asked, a confused expression on her face. “Not to mention the statue that looks just like her.”

“Let's not overlook the fact that Hathlisora knew you would be able to see this letter. Somehow she knew you would be a necromancer,” Breanne said. “Considering they are hunted to extinction, it was risky to make such an assumption.”

“Other classes have undead sight,” Frank pointed out. “Lots of them do, in fact. It doesn't prove Hathlisora knew she would be a necromancer.”

Breanne shook her head with a stern look in her eyes. “The wizard proves it. More so, he called her Hathlisora. She must be a part of what was going on here.”

Frank went to reply, but Heather put up a hand. “Just stop. I appreciate that you are trying to make me feel better, but it's time we faced the facts. I was here before. Somehow I was here, and I was helping them do something.”

His shoulders sank as he let out a tired sigh. “I just wanted you to be happy since you were stuck here. I never wanted you to be embroiled in all this. This world is so cool, and it could be amazing if people would work together.”

“Some of them do,” Heather said. “But too many of them are only after being the best. I don’t know how to change their minds to see it your way.”

“I thought if I could build an amazing lair that was fun to play in, players would realize what fun monster players could be,” Frank sighed. “But it only takes a couple of bad ones to ruin it all.”

“That's because this world has no consequences,” Heather said and looked around. “You can burn it all to the ground, and nobody will hold you accountable.”

Frank insisted players would still be upset, but that wasn't a consequence, and for some people, it was a perk. They debated the point while Legeis and Quinny studied the document until Legeis asked a question.

“What are these words at the bottom?”

“What words?” Heather asked, grateful for the pause.

“Lred? Rgreen?” he questioned and held the paper up. “There is a sequence of them here.”

“A sequence,” she repeated and stepped over to look at the letter. She read them earlier but paid little attention when they didn't make immediate sense. However, a sequence of words meant a pattern, and they were all colors. She mouthed the words one at a time until a smile crawled over her face.

“It’s the code,” she said with a laugh.

“For the mirror,” Legeis said, catching on immediately.

“We should go see what it does,” Heather insisted. “I want to know what’s behind it.”

“Just like that, you leave behind the mystery of the letter?” Breanne asked.

“I am not leaving it behind,” Heather insisted. “I don't know what to make of it, and I don't know how to prove any of it. The code is the only thing I know how to act on. Maybe something behind that mirror will make sense of it all. If I was involved in all this like the letter says, there might be more clues on the other side.”

“Makes sense,” Legeis offered. “But when are we going to get my suite?”

“Hmm,” Heather replied as she looked at the paper and began to pace again. “You probably need your workshop to rearm as well.”

“I made some bombs and basic stuff, but yeah, I need the workshop for the big things,” he agreed.

“Then let's get your suite and your supplies, then come back here. We will animate your armor, then prep to go through the mirror.”

“What about the egg?” Frank asked. “The letter said to take it home.”

“I haven't forgotten the egg,” Heather insisted. “But we can only do one thing at a time. The egg was fine all this time alone in the cave; it will keep a little longer.”

They agreed and set off to gather Umtha, who was also overjoyed to see Heather was awake. She took a moment to collect her bone champion, who followed closely behind.

They then went out a secret tunnel, arriving just inside the cave that led to the swamp. Weary of the lizard things, they slipped into the swamp and made their way down the trail. Heather was happy to see her palanquin was still there, and eight skeletons still held it up. Four of them still contained plants with long green vines covered in thorns. They would provide decent protection for the journey back to the keep where Legeis's workshop was hidden.

Umtha rode upfront as always, and Heather watched her uncomfortably. The letter was all the proof she needed that she and Hathlisora were not the same person. Heather considered sharing that fact with Umtha but remembered how hurt she was the last time. Heather thought better of it and decided to keep it to herself as the group marched through the swamp again to save time.

They were accosted by a giant snake that lasted all of a few moments to the bone champion. Frank and the others were amazed when they saw it spit green fire, remarking that it was much more powerful than before. Heather went into detail about how she used the power of the focus to boost her ability and summon a higher level minion. Breanne was skeptical, citing that she never heard of the necromancers doing such a thing. Heather opened the book to the very page where it described the focuses and how they were used. It suggested they had other uses, but boosting spells was all that was recorded. Breanne could only shrug and suggest it must have been a secret.

By nightfall, they were back to the keep, and Legeis was anxiously building a frame to carry the armor. Frank, Breanne, and Quinny helped as Heather went to the graveyard. She summoned twenty skeletons to her call and marched them into the yard. They would carry the weight of the armor and get it back to the caves. From there, it would be more challenging to get it to the room. The upper caves were wider and went directly to the room they needed, but the lower tunnels had an elevator. The only risk was the wolves and spider things in the side caves. She reasoned they could be dealt with if necessary and decided on the lower tunnel. Besides, how would they get it up the cliff to the higher one?

“Were nearly ready,” Quinny said as she came up the side steps to the courtyard.

The air was alive with the sounds of the swamps, as dozen of frogs croaked and insects buzzed about. Lightning bugs flashed all around them as Heather sat on a log, the bone champion beside her.

“We might need to rest here one night,” Heather said with a yawn.

“Why not take egg?” Umtha asked from where she sat on a stone nearby. “Must take home.”

“I will take it home soon. I made a promise to Legeis I would help him learn the secret of the golems. I am just going to do that first, then we can worry about the egg.”

“Use bracelet,” Umtha insisted. “Find egg home.”

Heather looked at the stones ringed around her wrist and let out a sigh. “I will, once Legeis is taken care of.”

“What about the mirror?” Quinny asked as she came to stand beside her.

“We will do that next, Heather said.

“Take egg,” Umtha insisted and stood up. “Must take home.”

Heather looked the goblin woman in the eyes and then down at the magical dress. The letter specifically told Heather to ask about the magic dress, but Umtha had already shown her. Singing a little tune caused the flowers to sway and dance. It was an odd thing to put in the letter, serving no real purpose other than to mention it. Heather supposed it was the same sort of magic that made the picture the goblins had move. It was certainly a fascinating thing, but why had Hathlisora drawn attention to it?

“Take egg,” Umtha shouted, drawing her attention back to the angry goblin.

“I promise I will take it back,” Heather insisted. “But I have to do other things first. You have to trust me.”

Umtha’s ears dipped low as she sat on the rock again and crossed her legs. She swung a clawed foot in irritation as Quinny sat beside Heather.

“Legeis made a real neat cart with two wheels that works like a hand truck,” she said when Heather didn’t say anything.

“Good,” Heather replied. “That will make moving it easier.”

“He made extra wide wheels out of wood. He was afraid narrow ones would sink in the mud easily.”

Heather nodded with a gentle laugh. Where ever would they find mud in a swamp? She looked down at her boots to see them and the hem of her dress soiled by it. She realized she had been in her yellow dress for days and wished for a bath.

“I need a hot shower and a change of clothes,” Heather remarked.

“You have more clothes in your cart,” Quinny offered.

Heather looked to her palanquin and the storage baskets in the rear. She did indeed have more clothes, but she felt too dirty to put on a clean change. She wanted to wash first and wipe away the grime of the swamp. She briefly wondered if it would be possible to bathe in the waterfall, but then somebody might see.

“Are you alright?” Quinny asked.

“I am fine,” Heather replied and looked at her hands. “I just thought about bathing in the waterfall, but then somebody might see me.”

“There is a sort of bathroom in the mountain,” Quinny said. “It has a big basin full of water.”

“I know, I saw it when I ran through, but I was thinking who cares if anybody sees me?”

“What do you mean?” Quinny asked.

Heather looked down and put a hand on her stomach. “There are no consequences to anything. Who cares if some burly warrior stumbles on me while I am having a bath? Sex is frivolous here. I can't get pregnant no matter how often I have it.”

“The NPC’s have children, and I think some players have too,” Quinny said. “You have to enable it or something.”

Heather laughed and looked up at the stars. “A perfect world where people can run around with no limits, rules, or repercussions. What are the visitors hoping to learn but letting us run wild?”

“Who knows,” Quinny replied. “Honestly, I thought about the sex a lot. That's why I'm not grotesque. I still want some encounters with hot adventuring heroes.”

Heather laughed again and covered her mouth as her giggles went on.

“I thought about being a succubus, but I didn’t want to be so openly aggressive,” Quinny added. “That’s just advertising that sex is all your here for.”

“I tried playing it for a few minutes and lured a bunch of fools to their death,” Heather said. “Men definitely think that’s all that race is here for.”

“You look a little like one when you have the crown on, but not exactly. Your skin is a shade they can have, and your horns look right, but you don’t have wings or a tail like they do.”

“Great, so putting on the crown will attract men,” Heather mused.

“Is that bad?” Quinny asked with a nudge at her side. “You are here; you may as well enjoy it. As you said, you can't get pregnant, so what's stopping you?”

Heather back at Quinny and shrugged. “I am a good girl.” It was Quinny's turn to laugh, and it made Heather cross. “Stop laughing at me.”

“I find it so hard to see you as a good girl when you carry a scythe and have a hulking skeleton bodyguard.”

“That doesn't mean I'm not good,” Heather snapped. “I have a cute pet spider.”

“Where is Webster,” Quinny said, looking around.

Heather closed her eyes and silently spoke with the spider, asking him where he was.

“He's in the tree over by the corner, hoping to catch a bird,” Heather replied. She looked over but couldn't make him out in the branches and went back to staring at stars. “So have any of these heroes rescued you from your needs?”

Quinny smiled and looked ahead. “Three times.”

“What?” Heather gasped, snapping around to stare at Quinny. “Really?”

Quinny nodded and began to recount the tales as Heather blushed.

“An orc? Really?” Heather gasped.

“They are all human on the inside, and besides, he was nice,” Quinny said.

Heather looked into the darkness and tried to remember the orcs that kicked in her door. They certainly didn't seem friendly, but come to think of it, they did offer to teach her where half-orcs came from.

“It didn't bother you how he looked?” Heather asked to drive that memory from her mind.

“Why should it bother me?” Quinny asked.

“I don’t know,” Heather replied as she pondered it. “Orcs look so primal and savage.”

“But they are just humans on the inside. This world is like playing in a giant costume party,” Quinny suggested. “In the end, were all the same.”

Heather considered those words as another thought ran through her mind.

“There you two are,” Frank called, shattering the moment. Heather looked at him with a slight smile and waited as he approached.

“We have his armor on the cart, and we can move it any time we want.”

“We should wait till morning,” Quinny replied. “Umtha warned us how dangerous the swamp was at night.”

“Yes, morning,” Heather agreed and looked back to her palanquin. “I guess I can sleep a few more days in my dress.”

“Na, just sleep naked,” Quinny suggested as Heather glared back at her.

They spent some of the night around a campfire while Legeis worked on some equipment, his hammering echoing in the night air. Eventually, she settled in to sleep, the Bone Champion standing guard as Webster fussed at her side. As her eyes closed, she hoped the dreams would be peaceful and gently slipped away.

The morning felt sticky, and a fog hung over the swamp. The skeletons were put to the task of hauling the armor out of the workshop. She was impressed with the metal-framed cart that suspended the suite between two large wooden wheels. It was relatively easy to lift thanks to the balance, and with enough skeletons on it, easy to pull. Into the morning dew, they marched out, heading back to the cliffs, and the magic circle inside.

As they traveled, Heather rode in the palanquin, studying the kingdom heart. She was fascinated by the idea that it could be used to draw programmed NPC's from the buffer. There had to be all sorts of ways this could be manipulated and used to her advantage. Quinny's idea of making golems of her own was brilliant, and one she really wanted to explore. Still, she made a promise to Gwen to return the stone and had to keep her word.

The stone reminded her of the one in the egg chamber. She was reasonably certain that stone was why it was so cold in there, but what other properties did it have? Could it be used for other purposes, and why was it there in the first place. Did the egg need to be kept frozen for some reason? Would removing it from the cave cause a new problem?

Umtha was her usual cheerful self, sulking at the front of the cart. Heather was reminded of the letter and what it said about Umtha. Why did Hathlisora care about an NPC so much? For that matter, why did she care? Heather looked at the goblin woman and wondered if there was some truth to her not being an NPC. But if she was a player, why was she playing her character so flawlessly? Maybe Frank was right, and some players were working with the visitors, and Umtha was one of them. It was just another mystery in a long chain of mysteries tied to her somehow. It all became so confusing that it was simply easier to focus on one task at a time. She would animate the armor then pick something else to worry about.

“But how?” she muttered to herself as Webster jumped to the ground from her cart. She watched him scurry after a frog, losing it as it plopped into the water and swam away. She wondered if she needed to feed him regularly, like a pet, but he never fussed about food or anything but a warm place to sleep.

“No, focus,” she said and looked to the stone, holding it between two fingers. “How do I use you to animate the armor?”

“Hathlisora know how,” Umtha answered.

Heather looked up to see she was glaring back at her, a frown still on her face. She palmed the stone and returned Umtha’s glare with one of her own. The letter mentioned the dress specifically, and since Umtha was talking, now was the time to ask.

“Hathlisora gave you your dress, right?”

“Yes,” Umtha replied. “She make for Umtha.”

Heather nodded and moved closer to get a better look at the flowers painted on the simple white gown.

“Do you know how it works?”

“Sing to make dance,” Umtha replied.

Heather knew that. What she wanted to know was why singing made them dance. She asked Umtha to sing the song and listened to the words this time instead of focusing on the flowers. Of course, the song was in goblin and was about to give up until she thought of Legeis. She had him listen to the song and translate it word for word as Heather was shocked by what it said.

“Watch the clouds go by, where the flowers cry, then the doorway opens. Hear the birds declare, that the time is near, for the one who's chosen. She must go to where, the sands disappear and work the spell of knowing. Only on the hour, can she draw the power, that the way be opened. She will cry in pain, a promise made in vain, for only she can go. A heart of purest gold, she will refuse her road, and seek to save the chosen. She will break the sun, all their work undone, one hour now becomes three. With three to draw, now exploits the flaw, the door is made larger. She will call her friends, to hasten to the end, the chosen to the stars go home.”

Heather sat by silently as Legeis translated. It took several passes of the song, Umtha refusing to sing it slowly and started over from the beginning every time. Finally, she had a full description of the song and thought back to the letter. Everything in it was a clue; every word meant to trigger something.

“So, what do you make of that?” Legeis asked.

“She will break the sun?” Heather replied. “One hour now becomes three?”

“That’s pretty much how time works here now,” he replied.

“Yes,” Heather answered. “Something happens that can only be done in a specific hour, but now it lasts three.”

“A door of some kind,” Legeis added.

“A door where people can go home,” Heather said with a smile. She looked up at Umtha and crawled to the goblin woman to wrap her in a hug. “Thank you for singing me that song. I promise I will find the door and open it. I promise you will go home.”

“Hathlisora already promise this,” Umtha said.

Heather released her and leaned back to smile. “Yes, but now I understand what I am supposed to do.”

“You understand anything from that gibberish?” Legeis asked.

Heather laughed. “Maybe not, but just like everything else, it's a sign pointing to the path, a path that leads to a way home.” She sat back and took a deep breath. If the sun could be broken, then she knew the visitors hold on them was tenuous. There had to be a way to break through and get out. With a new sense of satisfaction, she sat back and resumed looking at the kingdom heart.

“So, what role do you play in all this?” she asked as the stone twinkled in the light. Whatever that role was, she was determined to find out. As the palanquin traveled down the muddy trail, she pondered its secrets and hoped there were notes in the workshop.