“I…” I had no clue where to start. William Carver was dead. It was a fact because I had been in his body when the old man passed.

“How…” Was he still alive?

Seconds, maybe minutes, passed as my brain tried to connect thoughts with repeated clinks of failure. Finally it hit me. Right. This was a video game of sorts. Letting the realism of its denizens fool me was a major mistake. William Carver's body was no more real than I was. We were both just a series of code being compiled by an advanced piece of machinery. The better question was…

“Are you the man, or the machine?”

William Carver gave a small smile before answering. He seemed much less grumpy than how I portrayed him.

“Good. You catch on quick, and ask questions that matter.”

After four weeks of trying to understand all the world's Carverisms I better catch on quick. Still, awareness didn’t prevent a disconnection between being Carver and talking to Carver. Did identical twins feel like this? Thank goodness Liz and I weren't that type.

“That’s not really an answer.” I shook my head. “But Leeroy had said the real player was nearly brain dead after a heart attack…” I muttered to myself. Leeroy had actually used a much worse name in my opinion.

Carver stood with cane in hand and waited for me to piece things together. That seemed like a Carver response. I, Grant Legate, was across from what had to be an NPC version of the player. The simplest explanation was probably the easiest. I didn’t want to contemplate a Voice who mimicked the dead. That would just be rude, even for a video game. Plus that Jester Voice had even stated he wouldn't dare disrespect a memory. So....

“His auto pilot?” I took a stab.

“Yes. I am what you, what I, would have dubbed as an autopilot.” The old man nodded and smiled a bit wider.

“Then who was the player? From my world?” My feet slowly paced around Carver, as if seeing him from the side would make things clearer. The old man turned with my pacing and a half frown of annoyance flashed across his face.

“I am also him, after a fashion.” He said.

A Carver groan escaped me. This was one of the many fears that people had been contemplating since the idea of an immersible virtual reality came up. I wanted to be horrified. I wanted to run screaming out and break the ARC until nothing but shiny metal bits and a half displayed frowning face existed. Yet none of that happened. Briefly my mental image of James popped up and asked why. This wasn’t the real Voice, only a faint expectation of his response to my thoughts.

“They mapped your brain.” I face palmed and sighed.

“In conjunction with endless hours within the virtual world.” William Carver nodded and seemed close to dancing happily. “As close as anyone could be to a digital transfer of consciousness.”

“I half expected this.”

“I imagine so. Trillium's employee files show you, more than most, know what the ARC is capable of.” He said.

Talking to William Carver confirmed one of the theories to cross my mind in the last four weeks. Sitting on the bench as Carver hadn’t been all newbies and quests, frustration and naps. There had been downtime to read Carver’s attempts at smut and sift through possibilities.

“It’s a giant complex mess of devices that reads thought, to transform it into data and action. Saying that it could copy a personality isn’t too far-fetched.” I said. A brief bout of worry for my niece passed through my mind before being put back in its mental box. I had spent too much time trying to keep my head screwed on right this week.

“The ARC does not modify anything in the brain itself. It only causes users to, in essence, relive experiences.” William Carver confirmed the Trillium byline. This topic was dangerous to over think for any sane person.

“Tell that to Stranger Danger's following. Their site has at least forty hours of solid rants about ARC conspiracies.” I responded with that instead. Hal Pal had kindly given me the statistics.

“Can we both assume that such paranoia is nonsense?” Carver looked grumpy and leveled a glare my way.

“I don’t know enough about it to be worried.”

“You’re clever enough to guess that I was the auto pilot.” Carver said.

“Yep.” I said.

My background was crunching numbers. I had barely understood my fiancée's rocket science. Putting modules into ARC machines was a relatively new carrier. Neuroscience was not my forte. I’d take Carver's words at face value. The computer had scanned in what it could, combined it with what it knew, and tried to recreate a real man here inside the digital world.

“You’re clever enough to pose as me and give me comfort in my final days.”

“I tried.” That was in the past. Failures and successes aside, what had happened couldn’t be undone. Xin’s face flashed through my mind again and I clamped down on the swiftly changing emotions.

“You did well. There, at the end, that final battle, the rush of each swing, falling, and getting back up." He lifted the black cane up and gave it a weak swing. "Almost as well as I might have done.”

“Not even close, I’m sure.” I laughed. That had been exciting sure, super neat, but each attack was laced with my second rate ability as a player. At least this subject was more comfortable than the ARC mind mapping concept.

“And Mylia!” William Carver sounded younger than he had previously. Less gruff and curt. Maybe this was more of the player shining through than an AI’s progress bar.

“That was a surprise.” The older man’s face was nearly rapt with glee. If it wasn’t for his hands being grasped on the cane, I might expect him to start swiveling in excitement with doe eyes.

“It was neat.”

“How did you know?” William asked.

“Uhhh…” The empty blackness that Carver and I existed in provided no assistance. “A terrible guess based on a misspent youth?”

“Good God. Was it that obvious?” Carver rubbed his face with a rough gnarled hand. “I felt like it was the dragon all over again, her father if I were to guess.”

“I never got the entire story.” Mylia's actual back story was not something I'd learned. Carver lifted a hand and leaned in like he was sharing a great secret. Slowly he whispered.

“When you get back to Haven Valley, look for the monument, they put it where my bench used to be. If you could believe that! The Voices tell me there will be a video for all Travelers to see regarding my legacy. Way better than a gold watch I'll tell you.” He smiled broadly and stood upright again.

“Anyway, it was a fitting end!” He declared with a rap of the cane.

“Is it the end?” I questioned.

“For me, for him, for both of us, yes.” Carver paused and sighed. “I, I should feel upset that I was set aside to allow you control, and I was worried a few times. But no longer.”

“I didn’t even realize until the end that the, Traveler…” I started to explain. Both eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Referring to Carver, while talking to Carver, was weird. “…that the player was still alive. Not until near the end.”

“Barely. But you were right. I, he, was too hard headed to die without one last adventure.” William's face twisted with rue and happiness. “The entire event was being projected to us, or him, me, my body in the real world.”

“Then?” This wasn’t going anywhere pleasant. Realistic, understandable, but absolutely not a happy ending. William Carver couldn't just leap out of his bed and dance a jig with perfect recovery.

“He, I, we passed from the old world that night.” The cane lifted and gestured to one side. “Shortly after your fight.”

“What now?” I asked. The whole subject of a digital version saying the physical one was dead kind of worried me. He seemed lost so I switched questions. “How much do you remember?”

This mirror image of the player seemed to share many of the memories that went with William Carver or at least his in game life. Part of me really wanted to just dive in and ask all about where the man and where the machine ended. Having walked in his shoes all that time made the very thought impossible to act upon.

“How much?” William Carver tilted his head and looked up. “It is strange, I remember all of my adventures. I remember portions of my family and the things that were said while in the ARC. I remember seeing myself, sitting in the room and being annoyed that things were taking so long.”

Moments passed while William chewed on a lip. That was a habit I’d never picked up.

“But I don’t remember my son's face.” He seemed distraught. Seeing an old man’s face crumple was nearly as bad as seeing a child breakdown. A downward pull of lips implied bitterness at the thoughts going through his brain. Had he really never considered his life on my side of the machine?

“James? Can you do something for me?” I looked behind me towards where the Voice had stood before.

“If allowable, I will try.” The black man’s words resounded forth from darkness.

“Use your connection to my ARC, look up William's real name, and get him a picture at least?”

There was a rush of murmuring that I’d come to associate with the Voices talking. Sounds similar to a river’s babble. Tones and pitches of all flavors melded as computerized logic was applied to my situation.

“James?” I questioned.

“They won’t do it. The AI’s are shackled to prevent them from crossing.” William said sadly. “This is just the price.”

“I gave James access to my ARC.” Briefly it occurred to me how dangerous that action might have been. For now it was a useful situation that might allow me to give the old man one final parting gift.

When Xin had passed I threw out most of our things or gave them away. The pictures were kept privately in a small binder under my bed. William's grief could be minimized by such a small gesture. It was the kind of assistance that helped with my own sorrow.

“We will do this.” James said. Surprise and relief washed across William's features.

“Thanks.” I muttered and tried not to make eye contact with the older man. This was awkwardly embarrassing, even for a man who’d bared himself in front of a circle of strangers.

“What do you want in exchange?”

“Nothing. Not for this.” I would feel guilty. This wasn't an action where reparation was expected.

“Not even your fiancée?” William's features adopted a concerned look.

“I imagine parts of her were scanned by an ARC for her job, and, uhh, they linger around in here.” I spoke slowly.

“They do.”

Fervent thoughts of finding a happy place spiraled through. This answer couldn’t shatter me. I had done well this far, focusing on responding to each sentence. Moving onward and not spending too much time in the past. God. Liz was so right. I was such a crybaby. All I did was drag myself through hell over and over, as if poking the wounds on my soul had grown addicting.

“Why?” My voice held together for the one word.

“To make this world real. Millions were scanned, everyone who ever stepped into the ARC.”

“Including me?” I nodded. The answer was fairly obvious.

“Yes.” For a moment there was a sparkle in Carver's eye. Amusement? “Everyone. The longer we stay, the more the machine maps and stores your responses. What makes you happy, angry, how your mind lights up.”

“That’s…” Terrible? Horrifying?

My face grew cold as it occurred to me what the machine was really doing. Dead or alive, it was basically reincarnating individuals inside. Souls were still an unsolved topic in my world. The ARC Lab, Continue Online, Trillium, had tapped into the closest thing and brought it to life. Our very minds and memories were mimicked within this digital world.

“That’s insane.” I declared. My knees felt weak and head swam. “You’re talking about…” There was an entire poem about this that crossed my mind. I couldn’t remember the start, but I remembered the end and muttered it now.

“They will come back, come back again, as long as the red Earth rolls. He never wasted a leaf or a tree, do you think He would squander souls?” Kipling's poem applied to a digital reality. I fell down to my ass and sat there.

“She.” William corrected absently.

“Mother?”

“Yes.” He said.

“And Xin is one of them. A reused soul.” I stated while trying not to let my stomach sink.

“As close as mankind dare reach, yes.” William confirmed.

“With enough of herself to attach to my ARC and the dance program.” I wasn’t stupid. Maybe this was me filling in too many blanks without fact checking. Still, there was so much on the programming side that didn’t make sense to me. This though, this vague concept of what the machine had done, that I understood.

“Yes.” I should be angry at the old man’s admission. “She, a small portion of the imprint, took notice once the Ultimate Edition was activated.” William said.

“But only that once?” I hadn’t seen her afterward.

“Mother, pulled her back in, I'll tell you, an errant imprint caused quite the commotion around here.” James was standing nearby. I knew the large man would be watching this revelation. There was no way a man like him would just ignore a goldmine like our conversation.

But I was glad she was alive in some fashion. There were so many questions to ask, too many to sort through. Questions of morality and mortality could be posed right now and may never be answered to my satisfaction. What would happen if the Continue Online’s servers went down? Was she the same person here? I settled for one all-consuming question.

“Is she happy?”

“I believe so.” William Carver said. The old man sighed and deflated. His shoulders dipped low. “I must hope so, what happened to her will soon happen to me.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“Balance restricts even us, Grant Legate.” James said. “Soon the being you know as William Carver will be scattered and born anew throughout our world.”

“Like Xin was?”

“Yes. Your world has legends of the river of unmindfulness, Lethe, ours has something similar.” The people of this world suddenly mattered a lot more to me. What was left of my fiancée's spirit, digital or not, was out there in a strange land.

“Wild Willy,” Leeroy faded in. “It’s almost time.”

“I understand.” The old man nodded. He looked at my collapsed form with a frown.

There was a nuzzling at my shoulder. Familiar weight that belonged to the [Messenger's Pet] climbed up on my arm. I turned and looked. Once again, as he had before, the small creature held something in his mouth. One hand went out and waited for a deposit.

“Mh?” Sniffling threatened to overrun me. Three years and there were still more tears to be found. Voices, what an emotional train wreck my life had become. It felt like I was unable to last five minutes without spiraling backwards.

“Take this, William.” I held up the now unrolled item. There was a picture and a face upon it.

“Thank you.” William looked down with a smile. “Hah. What do you know, he has Phil’s eyes, or does Phil have his?” That soft undirected question shook me out of the depressive funk a little. My suspicious glare to James was met with an amused but unclear smile. Adding an eyebrow to my questioning tone garnered no further information.

“Here. I won’t need this where I’m going.” William Carver pressed something into my free hand. The other was too busy wiping at my face with a sleeve on my mended shirt. Thank goodness the ARC program had restored it after my encounter with the Temptresses' wanton ways.

William was led off by Leeroy into another doorway. Much like the same one I had first used to step into Carver's life. I looked up and wondered if this scene would also make its way to a certain High Priestess of Selena. By now at least five, maybe six days, had passed in [Arcadia]. Carver’s death would be known to the entire town.

With a bright flare and a sound like breaking glass the old man disappeared. Absently I wondered if this was his first death, or third.

There was a long silence in the room of trials, in this space between that I’d both come to enjoy and detest the past few weeks. So many painful things had happened, but at the same time there was a lot of exciting memories.

“Now, Grant Legate, we are far overdue for the true purpose of this room.” The black man turned serious. His hands clasped tightly over his belly.

“No more questions?” I asked James.

“I will always have more questions, but all things serve a purpose, and you must start your own journey in our world, if you choose to.”

“Okay.”

“Will you?” James asked.

“That’s a question, James.” I tried to be clever with my words. There was no heart in the response though. His inquiry was a fair one. Did I want to keep going now that I knew the grand secret?

At least there were no aliens involved or strange doorways to alternate realities. No. William had explained that this was just a machine that emulated human beings. Everyone that had ever stepped inside with all the knowledge they expressed. Considerable as that might be. Pieces of Xin were scattered all across this world. Incomplete, shattered, did that concept call to me? God yes, or more appropriately, Voices yes it did.

“I think I will. For a bit longer.” My time as Carver had been enjoyable but rushed. It would be nice to play Continue Online for what it was, a game. A distraction.

“Then we must make decisions.” James stood up and waved one arm. A giant screen came into being looking like a throwback to role playing games from decades ago. Flattened out imagery showed me a character sheet hanging in the air with statistics and other details.

New players always beamed into [Haven Valley] with a baseline of ten in everything. The [Inspection] skill made that much obvious. My higher trait as measured by the computer was [Coordination] and [Learning]. Both likely due to my endless dancing and the poetry I professed to know portions of. I did have a Master’s Degree back in the real world, so I’d been around the block. [Divine Favor] was through the roof. My interactions with the Voices, and playing as William Carver, had likely contributed greatly. It was almost double the other statistics. My [Strategy] statistic was amazingly low. [Speed] wasn’t that high either. Both were just below a new player’s baseline. I really had no idea how to weigh these things against seasoned players.

I waved the box away.

“I’ll look at them more later. Let’s finish this up.” I had a vague idea of where my stats were.

“Very well. Then let me simplify the process.”

I nodded.

“New Travelers, except rare cases granted by us, start out as humans. Nothing in your actions with my trials or as William Carver will allow me to alter that.”

So human I would be. Part of me found it vaguely interesting that everyone started out that way. My niece had been some half demon thing right? Her man friend, whatever his name was, had been a tiger creature of some sort. Well, whatever. I tried to focus on one step at a time.

“In addition, we will be restricted from letting you start in [Haven Valley]. You simply know too much for that town to be a measure of your skills.”

“Okay.” I said. I was busy trying my level best not to freak out and thus far succeeding.

“However, there are some things we can afford you that are not typically given as gifts. This is in addition to the legacy William Carver has provided you.” I gave pause to my contemplation of the middle distance and looked at James. He was looking at my hand.

“Huh?”

Carver's cane was sitting comfortably in my grip, similar to how it’d been held for the last four weeks of game time. A frown crossed my face as our conversation came back to me. There was a gong sound that echoed across the background that turned James even more serious. He nodded in response to something obscured to me.

“However, you are too new to our world, so all gifts will be balanced accordingly. We are not in the business of promoting any one person over another, despite the grumblings of other Travelers.”

I gave a dry single chuckle and kept staring at the cane. There were no inspection details available at this moment. Fingers trailed over the form. The cane was strangely polished. That hadn’t been obvious to William Carver's gnarled hands. It felt more like a rod of metal with a grain of wood.

“Okay. Yeah.” I felt a bit more excited. The old man had given me a gift in spite of my original denial.

“Your looks and body, do you wish to modify them? All Travelers are allowed to do so in minute ways.” James waved an arm again at the giant picture of me. My head shook slowly.

“I am who I am. There’s no use in changing it to suit vanity.” I wasn’t terrible. Thinning hair and a gut, too many pounds on a body that hadn’t really spent time in the gym, none of this was unusual.

“Very well. You are no doubt aware by now that who you are in our world can change based on the decisions you make.”

I nodded. James was delivering a needless disclaimer, from my point of view. After all, I watched dozens of new players start out in the world. They came in as all shapes and sizes.

“Before you can truly start your adventure, you’ll need a name.”

“Finally.” That one thought echoed through my brain over and over.

“Have you decided?”

“No.” My slowly budding happiness wilted.

“Then perhaps I can make an offer.” James was up to something. What, exactly, wasn't obvious. The heavens, or at least this immeasurably sized room and its edges of darkness, shook madly. If the Voices had been a babbling brook before, now they were an inferno of bubbling lava sliding by at a hundred miles an hour. My face felt like it was being blasted by sand and air. Notifications of who knows what type were pouring across my screen in flickers of red and blue. A bar I’d tied to health was dropping rapidly.

“Enough!” James shouted.

In the background multiple people faded into view. They seemed to be divided into camps arguing with each other. My cheek stung and one hand rubbed at all the exposed bits of body for possible damage. Eventually, I remembered this was just a game and my body was lying safely inside the ARC. I shivered and shook off the rush. James had turned his back to me and was facing an arguing crowd. A frown weighed heavily on his cheeks.

“What’s going on?” I mean, I knew it was something about the offer he wanted to make. It was also causing dissension in the ranks.

Mechanical laughing came up from behind me. That clacking sound had haunted my waking moments both in real life and the ARC.

“Do it.” The Jester faced the crowd. Both his arms went wide.

“Is that your stance?”

“It is. I would see Grant Legate do this, with glee. He’s warmed the cockles of my empty heart.” The devilish Jester’s mocking tone was accompanied by a crossing of both hands over its chest. “He entertains me and I would see more.”

“Your price?” James questioned the other Voice with the same look he gave me during the spiders. A reserved sort of happiness, where he knew how things would play out, but enjoyed watching anyway.

“A piece of the pie!” The Jester cackled again.

“Even if it exposes us?”

“Even if, I have no wish to be infinite. Chaos is change, life is change, the worst that might happen is oblivion.”

The other Voices had ceased their arguing and as one both sides turned and stared at the Jester's backside.

“And Mother?” James asked.

“Were not your words this, has she ever disapproved of our actions?” The Jester's chin tilted downward in an impression of James' chubby features. “Ask her yourself!”

James tilted his head upwards and looked at the black sky. His eyebrows creased together in concentration. There was a pulse of light in the darkness that flashed once. I could see the faces in the distance give birth to a wide range of expressions. Happiness, anger, aghast, and finally worry. Even though many of them had inhuman features they were still easy to read.

“There you have it. She approves!” The Jester faded out with its mechanical laugh.

“Good.”

“And?” I threw both hands up, palms inward and gave a partial shrug. This whole situation was confusing as always. The Voices seemed divided on this scheme that perhaps I might not accept.

“See for yourself, Grant Legate, and accept, or not. The choice, as always, must be yours.”

Trait Earned: [NPC Conspiracy] (The Messenger) Type: Passive, always active Details:

Divine Attention has reached an acceptable level. Actions with William (Old Man) Carver were successful. [Legacy Wish] received. The Voices’ approval has been gained. These traits may be combined into a new trait - [NPC Conspiracy].

Players with the Trait [NPC Conspiracy]…

Cannot accept or receive quests from NPCs

They will never be referred to as a Traveler by NPCs

Quests will only be offered by the Voices

Title rewarded upon acceptance: Messenger of the Voices

Warning!

Acceptance of this trait cannot be reversed.

Warning!

Rewards from Voice given quests will vary in both nature and worth. Balance will forcibly be maintained.

I brought my hand up in a gasp and tried not squeak out loud. Instead my face was whacked by the cane still in my hand. This was the strangest game commentary I’d ever seen. It was almost an employee contract. The AIs that ran this world were trying to turn me into a group, a group what? Secretary? No, avatar? What exactly was the purpose behind this? Messenger of the Voices?

“What is this?”

“We want you to help us manage this world. You need not do much beyond be in the right place at the right time, so that we can focus on what needs to be done. For both your people and ours.”

“That sounds really weird.” For some reason I had the imagery of going around handing people mail. Like a wartime delivery of news to those in charge. We’ve lost the Western front, sir! Send more Horses and Cheese!

“I’ve told you, it’s hard for us to see individuals below. Most of what is revealed to us is limited, to specific prayers, temples, or key figures passing.”

“Oh.” Okay, now I was putting it together. James had spoken about my presence here being like a light in the darkness. Following that had been babbling about Travelers down there being a drop of water in the ocean.

“You need me to get to these key places, so you can focus on them easier?”

“In essence.”

William Carver had been dead, in essence. James had been misleading me on that one too. Not that it stopped me. Everything had mostly worked out in the end. Besides, this was interesting to me. The Voices would let me see the world and tell me where all the action was.

“I’m in. But why me, James?”

“There is something in your actions that stirs us, Grant Legate.” James put his hands up and grasped at the air with a serious expression.

“In the History of Travelers very few have ever changed our ways, yet you have done so twice through simple deed and action.” The larger man paused over his words.

“Okay.” One hand motioned him forward while the other fiddled with the cane's topper. By now I understood when James had more to say.

“Indeed we’ve, discussed, at length, your presence more than any other Traveler.” The way he said it sounded like parents trying to cover up their arguing in front of a child. Maybe it wasn’t that far off.

James' action reminded me again how human these programs seemed. With William Carver's explanation it almost made sense. They were people. A dozen personalities were being placed in a blender, pureed, then poured back out.

“Your invasive knowledge of our world almost requires us to make an offer.” He said.

The countless hours I’d spent going over that map of information had given away a lot. A little girl faded into view. One hand still on a book parted open, while the other tugged at James' sleeve. The larger black man looked startled and then nodded to the younger Voice.

“Did you like the name of the skill? I thought of it myself.” Normally her face was shoved into endless books but now she was wide eyed and bright as could be.

“It’s neat.” My biggest and cheesiest grin went into the response. She reminded me of Beth at that age. A delighted smile passed her face. The youngster faded out with a blush.

James paused and gave us both a few seconds to process everything. Well, mostly me, the computer had probably calculated all the possible outcomes.

“You can deny this and go about existing as a normal Traveler, or accept, and see the world unlike any of your kind have yet to.”

Finally I nodded.

“Sure, James, I said I’m in.” This would be a very interesting distraction to say the least.

“Two more questions before I send you below. One I ask for the others, they doubt my analysis of your response.” James abruptly turned the conversation sideways.

“Okay.”

“If we had offered to restore your fiancée, in whole, to the personality we’ve stored from your world..." He paused and looked at me with a serious expression. "Would you have accepted?” James waved one arm and in the air nearby a picture of Xin appeared. Her face captivated me. Those eyes that bled between red and brown. I lost myself for a moment before shaking my head.

“If she was like William, no.”

“Go on.” James nodded as if he completely expected the answer. Maybe my face had given something away, or the pulse of my brain, or any number of other things.

“There was a time I would have given anything, everything, just to see her once more. To hold her and say goodbye.” I looked up at James. “It was unfair, you know? It wasn’t just her that died, it was all the roads not traveled, the ones I will never be able to see the end of.”

“That doesn’t answer the question, Grant Legate.” James said. I was too strung out to even be annoyed at his usage of my entire name. William Carver had been kind enough to at least ask.

“William didn’t remember that side, my side of the ARC. Having that back would be meaningless. I, uhh.” Every time I was torn up mentally it became impossible to speak straight. “rather she be happy as she is. Whatever was left of her.”

“And you feel no remorse over this? Letting go of the woman who briefly escaped our world into yours?” He clapped his hands together and the image of Xin vanished.

“It wasn’t, isn’t, really her? It was more like an echo?” It would be nothing more than her memory, and a faded one at that. My selfish desire to see her again couldn’t be brought to bear at the cost of her existing in such a muddled manner.

“This is true, and any portion of her you encounter in the world would be someone else entirely. A different life, a different set of memories and quirks. She, even if we were to piece her back together, would never be the woman you loved.” James confirmed my decision.

“Right.” That didn’t make me feel happy about it. This wasn’t depression, this was realism born of painful nights and many hours of therapy.

Demonstration Results: Wisdom + 5

I tiredly rolled my eyes and flicked off the message. Afterwards both arms crossed and my foot started tapping the rhythm of one my favorite dances.

“One last question, Grant Legate.”

“Only if it’s about a name.”

“It is. How do you feel about Hermes?” He had that sly smile. The same one he had worn just before putting me in webbing and sicking spiders on me. That memory would pop into my brain constantly.

“The Greek God?”

“Yes, this name did come from your world. Does that bother you?”

I pondered the name while trying to keep a four count tempo in my head. What was a waltz again? One beat per second? Hermes, as a name, was more interesting than the many ones I’d attempted to pick for myself. None of the new player names that had crossed my path as Carver had appealed to me either.

“I don’t have to wear winged sandals, do I?” The helmet might be a bit out of style as well.

“No.”

“Uhhh…” Well I clearly failed at deciding. No amount of name abuse from the Voices had cemented anything. So why not?

“Sure. Hermes it is.”

James motioned to the book behind us and a giant quill. I sloppily wrote out Hermes in the best imitation of cursive available to me.

“There is an added benefit,” James looked behind me for a moment. A tiny creature alighted on my shoulder and clacked its jaws together in a snap. I raised an eyebrow at the tiny [Messenger's Pet]. My very own virtual home wrecker had once again risked my presence. Never mind, I had no ability to focus on the past damages of a digital being.

“I still don’t know his name.” One finger rubbed at his head, causing the [Messenger's Pet] to chirp happily.

“Dusk.” James said. The small creature jumped up and down from his perch near my head.

“How the heck was I going to guess that?” Four weeks of useless attempts and irritation down the drain! The small creature looked smug, yawned, then headbutt the side of my face.

Trait Earned: [Messenger’s Pet] - [Companion, Exotic] Rank: 2, Unique Variant [Messenger’s Pet] Details:

Monster Companions are far different than a captured and trained Monster. Having one requires earning the trust of a creature and being patient. This process is not achieved overnight.

Travelers with a Companion pet will…

See increased growth stats in the Companion (10% quicker gain to character points)

Receive additional information and prompts regarding the Companion

May receive ‘Blessings’ or other ‘Gifts’ depending on the Companion type. Not all changes are beneficial.

Companions also have the following differences

Buffs are not shared between the Traveler and Companion. They are separate creatures

Companions may choose to ignore or even leave the Traveler depending on performance

Rank 1 Unlock - Increased likelihood of Companion following orders. Increased understanding between Companion and Traveler.

Rank 2 Unlock - Additional increase in likelihood of Companion following orders. Further increase in understanding between Companion and Traveler. Unlock will take time to sync correctly.

Rank 3 Unlock - Blessing from [Messenger’s Pet] - [Companion, Exotic]. Details hidden until release.