**Edited on 8/26/18**

**Chapter was edited on 7/10/18**

Darren sat back on the bed and sighed. The long, excruciating evening was done. The kids had eaten enough grilled cheese sandwiches to feed an army (no one touched that damn macaroni salad that Mom had made), homework was finished, Billy was already asleep, and Steph and Greg were off doing their own thing. Johnny sat across the room on his own bed, watching his brother intently.

"So, how does it work?" Johnny asked in a hushed voice, not wanting to give away the secret of the RMR system.

Darren sighed and explained again. "I put on the headset. The helmet scans my retina while the joystick in the controller reads my thumbprint. That's how it knows which character is assigned to me."

"Oh." Johnny sat back. “So what are you going to do in the game?”

“Make money,” Darren said, passing the headset back and forth between his hands, “I can change the game’s currency in for real money.”

“Whoa,” Johnny said with wide eyes, “That’s what you are going to do?”

"Something like that. There's an NPC in the game that you trade with like that. The game is hooked up to my bank account, so it takes the monthly subscription out of there, then deposits anything that I trade."

"Gotcha." Johnny's long, thin arms wrapped around his knees and he drew them close. "When are you gonna do it?"

Darren rolled the helmet from side to side, shifting it in his hands and feeling the weight of it. "I don’t know."

"May as well go ahead."

Darren glanced at the door of his room. "I may wait until the others are asleep."

Johnny smiled. "Nah, they will not be in here. Steph's watching tv and Greg will go to bed early because he has practice tomorrow."

The older brother smiled at the younger. With a shrug, he said, “True. Here goes nothing."

Darren took one last glance at Johnny before his eyes dropped down to the technology in his hands. Oh, how long he had waited for this moment. He looked at the gray system and his heart began to race as he took off his glasses. He stretched the material out with shaking hands and slipped it over his dark hair with ease. It fit comfortably, naturally, snug without being tight. The goggles with the system fit over his eyes and the headphones slid down just over his ears. Darren reached up and adjusted his mic over his mouth, flipped the headset on, and he took the controller in his hands, ready to begin.

The teen saw a flash of red and felt a warm rush over his thumb. He knew what the system was doing, but it still shocked him to have his retina and thumb scanned to get into a game. But Darren quickly forgot about that as a mild hum in his ear started up.

Within seconds, a pinpoint of light in the middle of his vision appeared, then slowly began to grow. It was a warm, soothing light, and as it grew larger with each second, Darren immediately recognized it. It was a mar of Rimnir.

Darren gasped when he heard a voice in his ears.

"War," the deep voice said softly, "It comes for us all. And leaves devastation in its wake."

The map grew larger, looking at first as though it was drawn on a piece of parchment. As it grew, it changed from parchment to leather, the map burned into the cocoa brown skin. The map stopped floating in the abyss and it settled on an old wooden table, surrounded by candles, quills, and parchments.

And suddenly, a plate-clad hand reached forward and stole the map. Darren looked up and saw a male human glaring at him. His face was crinkled with anger and determination and a scowl appeared on his face. His head was tilted just to the side, as though he was listening intently. He was covered from head to toe in heavy plate armor and he was wearing a tabard of silver and black.

Syndicate colors.

“War’s coming, lad. Get ready. They’re here.”

A loud explosion from the side rocked Darren to his core. He looked over and saw the walls of the tent rip open as fireballs tore through the canvas as though they were made of paper. Books and scrolls went flying and the plate wearing soldier drew his bronze broadsword from his side. Screams filled the air, screams of fear and terror, and screams of war. The plate wearing man held his broadsword above him and the sound of metal slicing through the air filled Darren’s ears. His teeth were bared with rage and his face was contorted. He was angry and vengeful.

“To arms, son! Die, you dirty Coalition filth!” He ran past Darren, a war cry bursting forth from him as battle-ready, gold clad Coalition members descended onto the campsite.

And suddenly, the scene faded.

Darren blinked twice and a new scene materialized in front of him. Echoes of the battlefront faded into the soft, gentle sounds of wind over tall grass. The tent and the solider were gone, and Darren found himself standing in the middle of a swath of treeless, rolling plains. The grasses around him moved gently and they looked like ripples in a pond. Nothing else around him moved. No wildlife stirred. No bird sang. The silence rang in Darren's ear.

“Be on your guard, child.” A soft, strong female voice whispered just behind him.

Darren turned and a tall, strong female elf crept up silently beside him. She was wearing long, flowing robes over her tanned skin. Her hair, golden like the wheat around them, was tied back in a long plait that fell down her shoulder. She wore gold colors bordered in black and Her dark eyes were peering into the distance as her long ears twitched.

She was a member of the Coalition.

A snap of a branch caused her to look over, just to the right. Darren turned and he saw a whole battalion of Syndicate members slowly moving toward them, their silver colors shining in the hot sun. They carried spears pointed in front of them and bows with arrows notched and at the ready. With a yell, the army began to run at full force toward them.

“Arm yourself!” the elf commanded, her voice louder than any cry from the Syndicate.

Darren watched as she held her staff high above her, and suddenly, the ground began to quake under the feet of the encroaching Syndicate. Many were thrown to their feet, both others just quickened their pace, dodging rocks and boulders as they came flying up front the earth. As the scene faded, the elf was steadying herself as arrows flew through the air toward her.

The scene turned black and Darren could hardly catch his breath. His heart thumped loudly with excitement in his chest and his pulse raced.

“War.” An unknown voice spoke again. “It has divided us. It has destroyed us. And it will rage on.”

Words began to form in front of Darren as though they were being burned into the blackness.

The Ruins of Rimnir.

“What will you fight for?”

The black faded, giving way to a breathtakingly beautiful forest scene. Everything was blurry, as though the boy was waking up from a deep sleep. Darren blinked hard and as he did, his vision cleared and everything came into view. Large conifers towered overhead. Maples and oaks grew tall, their leaves as big and as wide as the palm of his hand. The birds above sang beautifully and Darren could hear a gentle breeze blowing through the thick canopy of leaves overhead. He looked up and he saw the beautiful colors of a pink and purple sunset peering through between the gaps in the leaves.

He was here. Finally. Darren was in Black’s Forest.

Before Darren could move, the words “The Encampment” appeared on his screen, glowing in gold for just a moment before fading.

Darren sat up from his position laying on his cot and was shocked to come face to face with a smiling black man. He was tall but knelt next to Darren, his hand reaching out to gently hold the boy's shoulder. His smile was wide and white and his eyes looked at Darren kindly. He looked up as the man pulled his hood back from his shining bald head.

"I hope that your rest was well," the man said in a very familiar voice.

Darren stared at him, and suddenly, he knew. He recognized the voice. He had heard the creator of the game speak so many times before. He had seen his face. He just knew that he was standing in front of the man who had created it all. "You're Dante Lowe!"

The man's smile widened and a twinkle appeared in his eye.

"Clever boy," Dante said, confirming Darren's suspicions.

A feeling of pride welled up in Darren's chest as Dante reached forward and took him by the hand. With a quick pull, Darren was on his feet and walking around in Rimnir.

"Welcome to Black's Forest," Dante said, his arms outstretched, "I am here to help start you on your journey through war and battle."

Darren looked around the small encampment. A tall, tan tent was set up to the side in front of a smoldering fire pit. Nearby was a small wooden table and chair laden with heavy-looking books with magical titles. Target dummies lined the far end with wooden practice swords strewn about. Dante drew near, and the teen looked over at the game's creator. Dante's strong black hand waved in the air and a mirror appeared before Darren.

Nothing appeared in the mirror before him, which was off and unnerving. Darren waved his hand in front of his face, but nothing appeared in his reflection.

"So," Dante said with a grin, "Let's get you started. You need a character.“

In his line of sight, three options appeared before Darren. He could pick between being a human, an elf, and a dwarf. And after that, he could pick between being a male or a female.

Within minutes, Darren had created his character. He was human, medium height and build, with short black hair and black stubble shadowing his face. He kept his own blue eyes, the one feature about himself that he loved. And with every change, Darren watched it happen in real time in the mirror.

"Good," Dante said, taking a moment to step back and look at Darren, "Looks very nice."

"You think so?" Darren asked, his voice wavering.

Dante's face broke into a grin and he chuckled. "Son, I'm an NPC. I'm programmed to tell you that."

Darren felt a blush rise up on his cheeks, but Dante's laugh was so infectious that Darren could not help but join in with him.

"So, you are not actually Dante?"

"No," Dante the NPC said as he guided Darren over to the table of spell books, "The creator does play the game, of course. He likes to stay in Veneah and converse with the players. But he thought it would be a cool idea to greet everyone as they entered the game."

Darren couldn’t help but agree.

Dante gestured to the chair and Darren quickly sat. With a wave of a dark-skinned hand, a book rose up from the table, floating in mid-air. The pages flipped as it settled down before Darren.

His eyes flew over the page that he had seen before printed in magazines and shared online.

THE FIVE MAGICS OF RIMNIR

"Read carefully, my boy," Dante said, a note of warning in his voice, "For when you chose your two magics, there is nothing in Rimnir that can change them.”

Darren's eyes flew over the words.

• Destruction, the magic of damage dealing spells.

• Empowerment, the magic of intense physical attacks.

• Illusion, the magic to change yourself and the world around you.

• Enhancement, the magic of enchanting weapons and objects.

• Alchemy, the magic of libations and potions.

In all honesty, Darren did not need to go over the various magics of Rimnir. He had them memorized for quite some time. And he had considered them all while doing his planning for the game. Each had strengths and in turn, each had weaknesses.

Darren sighed as he looked them over. Some of them sounded like so much fun… But he was not here to play the game. He was not here to get into combat and deal damage. He did not want to be a warrior or a spy or an assassin for hire. No, he was here to work.

He needed alchemy. And empowerment seemed like the obvious choice in case he ever needed to defend himself.

Without any more hesitation, Darren spoke, "Alchemy and empowerment, please."

The words shined and glowed on the page, then floated up, suspending themselves in front of him. The script broke apart into thousands of tiny balls of glowing white before they embedded themselves into his outstretched hands. Darren felt a rush fly over him like nothing he had ever felt before. Suddenly, the forest around him seemed so much more alive. He could see everything moving, breathing. Plants stuck out to him like never before, glowing, pulsating, ringing.

"You have been imbued with the power of alchemy," Dante said, his voice booming, "The world is now your playground. Everything you see can be combined together for good or for evil. Potions can be made at your disposal. You have been imbued with the power of empowerment. Warriors great and small will cower at your feet when they see the might of your attacks.”

Dante waved a dark hand and two thick books appeared in front of Darren. One was covered in dark, tanned leather with gold etchings on the cover that spelled out the words “Alchemy.” The boy touched it gently, the rough spines catching on his fingers as he pulled them from the air and into his arms.

"In this text, you will find every potion recipe and every enchanting recipe known in Rimnir. Use them well and use them wisely."

Darren looked up at Dante and the teen knew that his own blue eyes were shining. His heart was thumping deep inside of his chest and every word that he heard sounded more musical than the last. His hands shook with excitement as Dante handed him a small leather pouch.

"Take these," he said, handing over the pouch. The contents twinkled and clinked like glass when Darren sat it on top of his books, "You now have 100 aethys crystals."

Darren shook the small bag. He opened it up and inside, he saw the blue, glowing crystals littered across the bottom of the bag.

"Aethys crystals are the currency in Rimnir. Mined from ancient Dwarven mines deep underground, these crystals can be used to buy and sell good and services, can be traded with anyone your faction aligns with, can be consumed to power your magical abilities, and can be bought and sold to the Currency Exchange vendors in Veneah for other rewards."

Darren did not need to ask. The other rewards that Dante referred to were real life money. Doing the quick math, his 100 aethys crystals was worth about $5.00. Not bad for starting out.

“Do you want to choose a weapon?”

Darren looked at the far side of the Encampment. There, laying in piles next to target dummies, were weapons of all shapes and sizes. Swords and daggers of all types were laid out, ready to be taken. Shields, heavy and strong, stood at the ready. Bows and quivers, large-barreled guns, mages, and axes were all ready to be chosen.

The teen had not thought about a weapon before. Combat had all but slipped his mind. He had been so focused on making aethys crystals in the game that deciding on a weapon was… It was foreign.

“What should I do?” Darren asked to no one in particular.

And it was Dante who answered.

“New players often find success while carrying a long sword and wooden buckler.”

“I’ll take that, then.”

Darren didn’t even get up from his seat. He watched as a shining metal sword and brown shield disappeared from the pile.

Dante smiled down at Darren, who still sat at the table, books and coin purse piled in his lap. "Would you like to choose a faction now?"

Two scrolls appeared in midair in front of Darren, one silver, and one gold. Every guide that Darren had read had advised most players not to chose a faction starting off. But the offer tempted Darren just a little. On the left side was the Coalition, the gold-clad warriors from the beginning who lived in the plains to the west in the zone called Taltik. On the right side was the Syndicate, the silver-bearing seafarers from the eastern zone of Zashtol Basin.

But if he chose a faction, he could not trade with both. And that meant less work and less reward.

"I decline your offer," Darren spoke loudly, clearly.

The scrolls snapped shut and disappeared as quickly as they had appeared before. Dante's grin returned.

"You have chosen to remain aligned with the Consortium, the neutral faction of Rimnir. You will not be able to engage in world player versus player content unless it is with members of your own faction. Trade is open with all factions in Rimnir and all player versus environment content is unlocked. Do you wish to continue?"

"Yes," Darren said.

He felt pressure on his chest and he looked down to see a white tabard with black border appear on his torso. Right in the middle was an image of a black resting bear.

"When you leave this tutorial, you will find bags and armor will be in your possession. The road north will take you into Black's Forest, the man hub for your faction. Be on your guard. Rimnir is not for the faint of heart. War has tainted us all."

Darren stood and faced the game's creator for the last time. "Thank you, Dante."

The black man smiled. "What was your name again?"

In front of Darren, a text box appeared. No, Darren did not need to think of the name of his character. He used the one that he had been doodling into margins of his notebooks at school. The same name is the one carved into the notebook that he kept on his plans for Rimnir. He had spoken it in his sleep. And he was never more excited to speak it again.

"My name is Alakir."