I walked back, accompanied by Alice, to our campfire. I was feeling drained and unhappy.

I sat down on a boulder and looked into the fire. There is something magical, something mystical, linked with the fire. It is enough to take your time and look into it: it is relaxing and, at the same time, challenging and stimulating. Now and then, tiny sparks flew up in the air. Flames licked the branches, contorted in the air and moved slowly, covering new areas. With a crackling sound, more sparks were sent into the air.

Alice came near me. We stood there for some moments, looking at the fire. She raised her eyes, looked into my eyes and sighed.

“What's wrong?”

What was wrong?

“There is something … something that doesn't feel right.”

How can I explain myself? Even the fire is too real! Each and every little spark, so how can I explain my feelings for the overall? To whom do I try to explain myself? To an NPC who never saw a real thing?

But I chased this thought. I caught a little spark, and it fizzled in my hand:

"See? It burns!"

She chuckled softly but continued to watch me with her blue eyes, a light of understanding in them. After several seconds of silence, watching the little burnt point in my hand, I continued:

“This world is too real. Each and every little detail. I cannot pinpoint a flaw to it to say, see, this is a game! I know it is a game, but is it still a game if it's perfect? My mind says yes, but my heart says otherwise.”

I don't know if I was able to put to words what I was feeling. She tried to digest what I said but did not reply immediately. As I did not continue my thoughts, she tried timidly:

“Do you mean the game of life? Are you sad because of them?”

She made a gesture towards the 'mayhem field'.

I sighed. There was a conflict inside me. There were contradictory feelings, but I almost found my peace concerning these raids. They did attack me, after all.

“Yes and no. Not particularly because of them, but they are part of the problem. Do you see all these bodies strewn there, all that blood spilt? They do not disappear?! Why are they still around? The strong iron smell in the air? The shit, the piss and the gore?"

She watched me, unsure of what to say.

“This is what death looks like. It is not pretty. The blood will seep slowly into the Earth. Mother Earth will take them all in time, and they will find peace with her. The people from the city will come here and collect the fallen. They will be properly buried or burnt, as is their due, but they will all turn back to Mother Earth in one way or another, and new life will come out of it.”

I watched her. She really believes that about Mother Earth. I sighed.

“You know, I am not who you think I am. I am not what you think I am...”

“You told me that...”

“It is not that. It's not that I am just a girl playing in this world. It is what I am and what I do in this world. If this world is as real as it is... then I am really a bad person Alice. I am a monster.”

“You are a great warrior...”

I made a gesture to stop her protest.

“Why do you think you are level eighty-four and I am level ninety-four?”

She looked wondering at me:

“Level? You have said that about me before...”

“Yes, I did. To Spartacius. We have... There are tools to measure the... amount of magic inside a body.”

“Oh, you speak about your adventuring guild classification? We do not use such; there is a mage's crystal in the training camp that we use that is more practical.”

We? Who does she mean with we? I hesitated if to ask, but then I did it nevertheless:

"Who do you mean with 'we'?"

She shrugged.

"All other non-adventurers. You adventurers go into too much detail. It is like a pissing contest. What difference is there between a level 83, 84 or even 75? They are all high-level veterans or epic warriors to me."

Oh, OK. I might need to change my understanding of how spawns are viewing things.

“Well, it also has more functions. You can redistribute that magic between some attributes like power, dexterity, spell power and more. Well, I am level ninety-four because I did many actions where you have not been included.”

“I know you have your secret missions.”

“My secret missions... I just kidnapped a girl and delivered her like a package against her will in my last one. Imagine what this means for the girl and for her parents!

This was just an example of one of my secret missions. I did much worse. You know I have more than one hundred thousand kills? Mostly spawns..."

I chuckled. I had to chuckle. This is such a shitty impossible thing to imagine. I continued:

"A city by myself. Not even a small one. You know part of it, like the several dozens from today, but many more you do not know.”

And yet it did not disturb me so much. It was more blabber from my side. What was really stinging me was Thiara's story. Strange. Maybe because I had such a clear face to put to the misery I did?

She did not say a word about Thiara de Hollybrun, even if she must have perfectly known who I meant. I think she had already put that one plus one and knew it was me.

Why was this story so much stinging me? Because I did it now? Because I saw her mother's eyes?

“Is this worse than shooting an arrow through one's heart? We did what we had to do. Do you wish this world to not be real so that what you did would not be real? We all have to bear the consequences of what we have done!"

She did hit the mark. Yes, she is a marksman. Yes, it is too real because you see the consequences. It is one thing to do it and see afterwards the bodies dissolve into the air, and something different to see them buried and have to watch the grieving spawns.

Thiara, I did not have to do it. I choose to do it: for money. I started to cry. Why do I start crying? It is absurd, I didn't want to cry, and that thought only provoked more tears. There was a conflict in me. Part of me said: I only did a job. Part of me said: what the fuck? A job? Are you sane? It's a game! Tell it to her. Tell it to her mother. Is it still a game? It's all fake! Is it?

The emotions pushed inside me back and forth.

Why was this damn thing stinging me?

“How can all this be real?”

She hugged me.

“If you do not feel good about what you did, why don't you try to undo it?”

I watched her disbelieving. What does she mean?

“I cannot! How could I?”

“Can't you? There is an old saying: where there's a will, there's a way! You just need to find your own way with which you are at peace.”

I pushed my head back and looked at her. Alice was telling me an old saying? Is this a sick AI joke? However, there was no irony or condemnation in her eyes; there was only compassion. Do I trust what I see? Does what she says make sense?

Why do I not try to undo it?

I cannot undo what I did, but I can try to do the right thing.

Let me think it Cala-wise: if I did this job for 500 gold in one hour, I could probably undo it exactly as easily. I just need to check with the guild, learn where she is, and free her. Then I have no more problems stinging me. I could even make money with this. No, I don't want to make money. Why not?

A grin came to my face. Cala always has a solution.

Anyhow, I have to visit the guild to prepare for the Silver Town trip. They seem to have competent people here; they might have some good ideas to help me escape from the idiot gnome and his gang. I might just ask about Thiara and have them plan a rescue mission for when I come back. I need to move fast. It is the right time to inaugurate my mount.

“Lynx! I need you!”

I turned to Alice:

“Look for the best place around here and set up camp. Plan alternate guard for you and Spartacius to take some rest. If somebody attacks, flee or hold your ground based on your judgment until we return. I'll be missing maybe a couple of hours. A ghost may come, you know the ghost I spoke to, if you see him, let him stay around, he might bring us news. Take care!”

“Take care.”

She hugged me. It was unexpected and good to feel her arms around me. I held her tight and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

I jumped on the Lynx's back as he had just arrived. He strained, surprised by my 'attack' but did not react.

“I need a ride; let's go towards the town's gate!”

As any well-behaved mount, he obeyed. Unlike a well-behaved horse, he whispered to me:

“But we are not really loved inside the town, and after the last action, I fear even less. Only Spartacius might be accepted there now?”

I whispered back:

“I know some people in town who will be happy to see me. Besides, we are not exactly going to enter the town.”