It was past eleven when I finally managed to get home. Normally, my shift would have ended four hours ago, but because of the customer stampede, our employers had called to Jeff to extend the hours. I had been the first to volunteer, swapping my overtime bonus for a half-day off tomorrow.

“Twinkle, any important messages?” I asked as I closed the door.

“Two mails from your university to expect schedule changes, one from Jeff saying you’re an idiot, but he still loves you, and five one-month game invite keys,” the AI companion recited.

“Anything from Vesperia?” I took off my clothes and went to shower. The rain combined with the long day today made me feel like I had a layer of toxic grease all over my body.

“Nothing, Sarah. Although, you have fourteen messages from other games you are currently playing.”

“Ignore them.” I stepped onto the shower box. That was part of the reason I never managed to make a living from gaming alone—instead of going steady on one franchise, and possibly earning a minor sponsorship, I kept jumping from one to the next the moment a promo of some sort appeared. In the short term, it was more beneficial than the slow and steady, but made game agents less likely to contact me with offers.

“Sure thing, Sarah!” Twinkle said in glee.

“Read me the university mails.” I started the water.

“You are informed that the examination and course schedule might undergo changes,” Twinkle said. “Expect further mails with details.”

“And the second one?”

“Both have identical text. They were sent six hours apart.”

Just great. I never liked uncertainty, especially if I was paying for it. On the other hand, it gave me a chance to play a bit more.

The shower felt refreshing. I scrubbed my sweat off, then paid for a second water ration. This was the second time I had wasted money on more shower time, and I had no regrets whatsoever.

Hopping out, I took the protein bar from my uniform pocket, I ate it, and logged on to Vesperia.

“Twinkle, is Flicker online?” I asked as the space around me twisted into the fantasy world of the game.

“I have no indication, Sarah.” The blue kitten appeared floating in the air in front of me. “Would you like me to perform a paid query?”

“No, just send him a mail.” I opened the world map. “Tell him I’ll be waiting at the Sylvan Forest.”

“Sure thing, Sarah!” The AI giggled. “Mail sent. Do you want me to message anyone else?”

“No.” I considered mailing the dark broker. If my hunch was correct, he would be interested in what I had planned. Then again, letting him know could wait. “Check the current cost of Spy Sprite scrolls,” I said, then teleported to the forest.

The area remained mostly unchanged since yesterday, completely overrun by newbie characters. Someone probably had posted a Sylvan related video to make them flock here in such numbers. I put on my invisibility cloak. Right now, I could use not being bugged by low level characters.

“Twinkle, are there any new videos of the Sylvan Forest?” I asked. It felt nice having him back.

“There have been seven hundred fifty-one new videos involving the Sylvan Forest posted in the last twenty-four hours,” my companion said. “Do you want me to check behind the paywall?”

“No.” With a game as large as Vesperia, even unremarkable areas got a lot of attention. “How many have over fifty-k views?”

“Thirty-seven.” Came the reply. “Two are by pro players with over a million views.”

“What classes?” I didn’t like the sound of this.

“Human Paladin and Troll Shaman,” Twinkle said. “Both have official Vesperia sponsorship deals. Do you want me to give you their stats?”

“No need.” This quest is getting me paranoid. “How much do the scrolls cost?”

“There are no scrolls available for game currency, Sarah.” Twinkle morphed into his grumpy sad state. “Online auctions are selling them for seventeen per scroll.”

Seventeen? That was way too much. I opened a browser window and did a quick search. Vesperia had announced a new event last week that involved NPC battle royale PvP. As a result, everyone had rushed to buy out anything would help them get higher in the rankings. Spy Sprites were able to provide a hidden view of the nearby area without revealing any information about the player who had sent them. The spell was far inferior to scry abilities, but in the absence of everything else, could be used as well.

“Twinkle, how long will it take you to map the entire forest?” I wasn’t paying that amount of money.

“I already have a map of the forest, Sarah.” The cat looked at me confused.

“A new map,” I clarified. “If you were to rescan it, how long would it take you?”

“Seven minutes and fifteen seconds, approximately.” Twinkle twirled in the air. “Do you want me to record it?”

“Better not.” I didn’t want him to glitch again. “Just tell me when you reach the end.”

“Sure thing, Sarah!” the AI companion giggled then flew off into the forest. It was a long shot, but until FlickerFlacker gave me an update on his discussions, there was nothing for me to do.

I sat on the ground and opened a map window. Twinkle had started combing the forest in a methodical vertical fashion starting from his point of entry. It was like looking at a very slow and oddly shaped loading bar. I opened a global map of Vesperia and placed the locations of the other three hints. If there was any logic to the placing, I couldn’t see it.

Three hints, I mused. This one was the fourth. If Flicker managed to buy the one he was negotiating for, that made four; add the dragon egg and that made five. That meant there were three more of which we knew nothing about. People claimed nothing could be lost on the web; that was false. I had scene information vanish many times—including my own videos. What I was more interested in was why have a quest that was impossible to complete? The only reason I had received the quest was because of my freak reaction after level up. If I hadn’t found a positively inclined dark broker, or hadn’t been contacted by FlickerFlacker, I wouldn’t have found a single clue.

“Aren’t we deep in thought today?” I heard a voice beside me.

I turned around to see a level six human character standing there, looking at the forest. He was wearing the generic Vesperia starting gear and had visible class indicators suggesting he was still unspecialized.

“Got your AI running again, I see.” He glanced at me, not in the least bothered by the fact that I was invisible. “I would have loaned a new one if you had asked.”

Claire? I opened my in-game mail and sent him a message.

“Getting a bit paranoid?” the character asked. “Good.” A reply came in my mail containing a video grab of us. “I heard you’re close to finding your fourth clue.”

“Getting there.” I felt uncomfortable him being here. “Flicker’s discussing prices and—“

“That deal has already been made,” he interrupted me. “The seller’s delaying to hike up the price. He knows that if he takes too long, the info will become worthless.”

“You know about the buyer?” I felt a chill.

“It’s a small community.”

That’s not ominous at all. On the positive side, it probably meant that as I long as I remained useful to him, I’d be safe from other dark brokers snooping into my life.

I glanced at the map. Twinkle had scouted about fifteen percent of the forest and was moving on.

“Why are you here, Claire?” There was no point in acting timid. I knew what someone like him was capable of, just as I knew I couldn’t live the rest of my life in fear. Also, I still had something he wanted.

“Looking after my investment.” He shrugged. The young black-haired avatar made him look like a free player who had just joined the game. ”Besides, you never know if this won't end up being a big moment.”

“It’s doubtful that I’ll solve the riddle today,” I snorted. It would be nice if I could, though.

“Who knows? But that’s not what I had in mind. So far, no one has found the Sylvan Forest hint. I'd like to know what your theory is.”

“There’s no guarantee that I’ll find anything.”

“There never is.” Claire frowned. “Tell me what you think.”

If anyone else had asked me, I’d have suspected they were fishing for info. With a dark broker, I knew it was an exchange. Depending on what Claire thought of my info, I’d get a little something in return. The question was how little was little. I had already asked him for a few minor favors, so it was possible this was him collecting on it.

“Add-ons,” I said after a while. “If the whole quest is a parasite game, then its elements should be as well.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he snorted.

“The easiest way would be to link them to commonly available data,” I continued. “That way the clues can’t be tracked.”

“Go on.” He moved a few steps closer. I could tell I had managed to intrigue him.

“The clue with the librarians was based on a simple kill quantity. All I had to do was kill enough of them within a set time limit. The information is openly available. I didn’t even have to be in the game.”

In truth, I was making it sound much simpler than it was. The event triggers still had to be placed in the game, not to mention that the new NPC behavior code had to be injected as well. Strictly speaking, all my reasoning was just a hunch I’d gotten during lunch.

“The other hints pointed to specific locations.” More or less. “This one was linked to the entire forest.”

“So you decided to search the whole forest,” the dark broker shook his head. I expected him to add a snarky comment, but he sat down on the ground instead. “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Probably.” I glanced at the map. Three quarters remained unchecked. “Though they say that when you're searching for something, it’s always in the last place you look.”

The seconds dragged on. We both sat silent, watching newbies get slaughtered by elf NPCs with wolves. It was a tragic display of inability to play combined with bad choices only first time players would achieve. I felt my skin creep as I watched a female druid cast spells left and right, missing a level two NPC elfling attacking her with a quarterstaff.

“I never played this game,” Claire said all of a sudden. “It’s so full of bugs that even when it was new, it was total crap. And still I spend most of my time lurking away. Want to know why?”

“Nostalgia?” I didn’t know how to react. Dark brokers never offered information without a catch.

“I’m here because it’s the biggest place there is.” He reached out into the air and grabbed a cigarette. “None of the other games come close. People don’t come here to play, they come here to meet others. The owners lose crazy amounts maintaining the game, yet make ten times more from everything else. Ads, data, transactions: all add up to a nice sum. That’s why the game will never die, but also why it won’t improve.” He looked at me with a weird smile. “There’s no point in changing the status quo.”

“Okay?” Why are you telling me this?

“Relax, I won’t charge you for this.” Claire turned to look at the forest. “Just making conversation.”

“Since when do dark brokers engage in casual talk?”

“Since there’s a chance of something new appearing on the horizon.” He took a puff from his cigarette. “In three days, either you’ll show me something I haven’t seen, or you’ll be completely forgotten and return to your boring existence.”

I had heard threats in my gaming days; none of them were remotely like this. Technically, Claire hadn’t threatened me with anything. I could quit right now and nothing would happen... Except I’d always be left with the question of what could have been, and the dark broker knew it.

“How much time to go?”

“Half a minute,” I said as I checked the map. “Give or take.”

“Okay.” He tossed his cigarette in the air. The moment it left his fingers, the whole thing vanished in a cloud of pixels. “Nice chat.”

I held my breath as I focused on the map of the Sylvan Forest. Twinkle had scouted ninety-eight percent of the forest and was closing in on the last bit. The chance is one in a thousand, I told myself as my pulse doubled.

“Twinkle, give me a camera view,” I ordered.

“Sure thing, Sarah!” The AI’s voice echoed in my ear, even if the avatar was nowhere near. I watched as the cat floated between the trees as fast as a game steed. Bit by bit, the unmapped part of the forest diminished. Zooming in on the map, I could see ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the area had been cleared. What remained was the last few—

A sphere of light suddenly appeared on the window with Twinkle’s video feed.

“Twinkle!” I shouted. “Do you see that?”

“I sure can, Sarah!” The cat cheered. “I found a ball of light. It seems to be a treasure box. Do you want me to open it?”

“No! Stay where you are and—“

Before I could finish, the light sphere exploded all over the window. I stood there, petrified, watching as sparkling ashes filled the air grouping together to form a single sentence.

Listen to where the wind takes us.