Chapter 11: Welcome to Paradox

“Players need to stay off of that island,” said Azwold. “We gotta make sure.”

The canoe glided across Ostyra Bay as day brightened and broke.

“Maybe I should reach out for more help on this?” Azwold mused. I could tell sleep would soon take him.

“Ye jest,” I looked away. “Secrecy is key. Haven’t you said so?”

“Yeah, you’re right. But how are we gonna keep people away without help?”

“Take me into town and let me scare them with a fearsome yarn,” I suggested.

“That’s actually not the worst idea in the world,” said Azwold, yawning. “I have a bunch of junk to sell, too.”

As the sun rose behind Stonesthrow Island, the distant horizon ahead wriggled like a desert mirage. I imagined gilded pyramids. Imagined gazing into the ancient past. And I watched as the golden Queen buzzed away ahead of us, disappearing into the morning.

The mage rowed on in silence.

A port town resolved itself in the distance, but Azwold steered us to a small dock just south. There were two docks I saw as we drew nearer. A player in a straw hat was sitting at the end of one, fishing. We moored our craft to the other.

“Welcome to Paradox,” said Azwold with a wave of the arm.

“That’s Dreen, friend,” said the angler, pointing toward town. “You lost?”

“Sorry, just talking to my minion,” said Azwold. “You know… like ya do.”

He grunted, looking back to a lime green bobber in the water.

“I wonder, though,” said Azwold. “You ever count the docks while you’re fishing?”

“Huh?”

“How many docks are there?”

“Two,” said the fisher.

“I rest my case.”

“You better get outta here with that kinda crap,” he said.

“The people who appreciate me are rare and beautiful,” Azwold whispered.

“I have yet to meet one,” I said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he yawned. “Ok, listen. I gotta…” he clammed up, noticing the angler was staring at us. “Sorry, man,” Azwold said to him. “I just pulled an all-nighter. Kinda loopy. Going full on ventriloquist here…”

“We all been there,” the fisher tipped his hat. “Go catch some Zs, bud.”

Azwold gave him a nod. We gathered our things and departed.

We walked until the docks were out of sight, then Azwold veered off path. We climbed up a gentle, rocky hill, and up over its long, yellow weed grasses. Then down the lee and into a dale.

“I think we’re secluded enough here,” said Azwold.

We stopped to rest.

“Ok, so we’re pretty much definitely sure that you’re sentient and opinionated,” he said. “And there’s no way the game accidentally created such a sophisticated AI. Is there? But you’re also trapped in the role of my minion. So what happens when I log off? What are you? Something that exists because of game glitches? Or something more?”

“Is ‘log off’ what happened to Ralos?” I asked.

“No,” he shook his head. “You can’t stay in Realms of Lore forever. It’s a game, Eld. We’ve been over this. What you did to Ralos, and that Telemoon guy, is force them to stay logged off. They can’t log back on. That’s the difference. Normally, you can log back on whenever you want. As long as your connection’s good and the server’s not down for maintenance or other such bullshiznesses.”

“I understand some of that,” I said, “but you’ll forgive me if the picture’s still a bit foggy. Too much strangeness.”

“Okay,” he began, “take out your tablet.”

I did.

“Now imagine you look on the screen and you see us, doing what we’re doing right now. You’re looking down on our environment from a low crow’s nest height, say. Except you are controlling the Eld on the screen. Imagine having your hands on a set of controllers, and you’re making things happen on your viewer via your avatar. That’s what I’m doing right now with the character of Azwold. From a thing called a computer.”

A wave of dread washed over me.

“So since you only exist in the game for me,” he said, “I wonder what happens when I log off? Oh yeah, so ‘logging off’ is basically me turning the game off. Deactivate? Keelhaul. My avatar disappears from the live game server and doesn’t reappear till I log back on. Even H-Core guys like me have to sleep. I’m usually good with the typical eight hours, but I’m frickin’ way snoozy ATM. I’ll probably be gone at least that long. If I can sleep, that is.”

My wave of dread deepened.

“So what do you think?” he asked. “Should I log off and pop back on real quick to see what happens?”

My jaw sagged, and I felt a buzz in my chest. I must have worried my colony awake. But their presence reminded me that, with or without Azwold, I was not alone.

“To say I’m not afeared would be a lie,” I said. “If I get your meaning, then I may cease to exist when you go? But I’ll reappear when you return?”

“Don’t know, honestly,” he said.

“But sleep is unavoidable. Correct? If you must log off sometime…” I pondered the wisdom of my thoughts, then finished them, “today is almost as good as tomorrow. Do I sleep?”

“Not while I’m online. Aside from that, no idea.”

“Lovely.”

“I would just leave the game on and hit the sack, but it’ll flag me as AFK,” he said. “Err, ‘away from keyboard.’ The keyboard is for when you want to type words manually using little square ‘keys.’ You can direct your character with it, too. Anyway, every half hour or so the game detects who’s been AFK and boots them. Clearing inactive people makes room for others to log on.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let us try it, then.”

The Spirit Mage grew silent and still. A purple sigil drew itself out on the dirt below his feet. Then he vanished in a smoky swirl.

[Azwold has logged off]

My bees skipped a buzz.

But my form persisted. I did not blink out of existence. This pleased me.

Azwold reappeared in a pixelated purple panoply.

[Azwold has come online]

“Nice,” he said. “Okay.” Then he retrieved a green metal box from his [Tomb Cloak]. He extended an antenna, then pressed a button.

The Gremlin materialized in a glitchy green gear-twister.

My capacity for amazement was alive and well.

“Here,” he said, handing me the [Gremlin Signal], “You can relax in here. You’ll be ok, right? You’re good. Just stay inside and take it easy till I get back, ok? Alright.” With a hand on my shoulder, he ushered me into the rear seat. He slammed the door and locked it. “G’nite, amigo.”

The purple sigil drew itself on the ground below him again. Then he was gone. Along with the scepter and ring.

[Azwold has logged off]

The moment Azwold vanished, our loot chest from felling the tower dropped to the dirt outside my window. My [Eld Rib] was in that chest. The rage was rising. But I quelled it to think.

I had noticed a small node in the window frame; seen it popped up or down. I surmised it was part of the locking mechanism. I tried to claw it up.

And it worked.

Good fortune outshined a stewing ill mood.

I squeezed the door handle and wriggled out, clattering out to the ground. I pushed myself up and dusted off my [Grim, Dim Purple Coat], resolving to exit more gracefully on next attempt.

I snatched up the loot chest, inspecting it.

(Error: Player skeletal minion functioning independently)

(Missing item detected: [Hive Scepter])

(Player mount [Gremlin] detected. Re-designation initiated. Source: [Spell: Summon Skeleton])

(Re-designation complete)

“Drats,” I sighed. A momentary taste of freedom. Absent my previous prison, the game improvised a new ball and chain for me. My ever-present ill mood simmered anew.

Piloting the button-riddled contraption was out of the question, for now. But at least the lockbox was mine, and mine alone; locked though it was.

As I scanned the environs for a key, or a rock to bash it on, I heard a rustle near a stand of sycamore trees. There was a visual anomaly in the bark of one; it shimmered, almost imperceptibly, as if something perfectly camouflaged had passed in front of it. I stared, waiting to see if it would repeat, but the bark’s texture remained as stationary as a jigsaw puzzle.

I pretended to return my attention to the lockbox, holding it at eye level, but gazing beyond it. Utilizing the same peripheral vision technique as when observing auras, I detected something; like the faintest outlines of a shape beside the tree.

I attempted [Sense: Warmth of Life]. There was a reading within range, but there usually was whenever I used the ability. I could pinpoint nothing and questioned the ability’s usefulness.

Remembering I had an unspent skill point, I conjured my tablet. Undersea, when I had chosen [Spell: Regen I], I had done so out of necessity. I was forced to learn how, or perish… again.

Now, I pulled up my abilities screen to consider my options. Whatever was hiding against the sycamore vanished whenever it stood still, but I had to assume it was still there.

[Unspent Minion Ability Points: 3]

[Spell: Regen II]: Player minion heals itself for 5/10/15 HP/sec. for 10 sec. Only usable outside of combat. Scales with minion level and player Wisdom stat.

[Spell: Tooth Rush I]: Minion shoots a narrow cone of teeth from its jaw, dealing 3/5/7 damage per tooth. Minion then dashes to first enemy hit and performs bite attack. On miss, cooldown doubled. Damage, # of teeth, and angle of cone scales with minion level and player Wisdom stat.

[Aura: Wisdom Tooth]: Increases player and party Wisdom stat. by 5% while minion is active. Lasts until canceled.

My instinct was to choose [Spell: Regen II], since my preferred combat style was to avoid it. Defensive abilities across the board. But tickling enemies for 1 damage was a feeble way to continue on. I was in a realm where combat seemed integral.

[Aura: Wisdom Tooth] was least attractive. I might receive a small boost by taking it, but the mage would benefit more. And since he was not here to bully me into considering his needs, I chose [Spell: Tooth Rush I].

Lacking in much dexterity, I figured a mobility move could come in handy. That, and the ability did not require a visible target to cast. It had the potential to reveal stealthy things.

I saw nothing by the tree, but my new ability would tell me if I had hallucinated. I noticed that if I lingered on ability descriptions on my tablet, more specific information popped up. Using this, I determined the range of [Spell: Tooth Rush I], and moved into position.

Then I cast it.

Several teeth blasted from my jaw like tiny daggers, spraying the side of the tree. I experienced uniquely unpleasant sensations as my frame dashed forward, right up to the tree trunk. I chomped down... on my own teeth, reattaching themselves to my jawbone. There were scuffs on the tree, but I had damaged nothing else.

Mayhap I had missed? But the cooldown was its normal 15sec. I had also dashed, which could only occur upon hit. I walked around the base of the tree, confirming the absence of anything interesting. Perhaps I had been mistaken after all.

There was a brilliant flash of light. For a fragmented moment, I regretted not taking [Spell: Regen II]. The flash rendered me dazzle blinded. Half a moment later, and there was a dagger in my spine. Though I was immune to physical pain, my health bar flashed from green to red in a single attack, registering beyond my blinded status.

I experienced acute displeasure.

My bodily structure faded. Things went blacker.

When I arose in a swirl of spirit and foggy pixels, I saw Belvan, waiting for me.