“Staying here won’t do you any good,” said the boy.

I hovered in the void, staring off at nothing in particular. The countdown timer glowed red above me, displaying how long we had till time was up.

210:19:49:10

The kid that I’d met in the void had somehow returned. His dead fish eyes stared me down with an accusatory glare.

I knew I ought to take the chance to ask him about magic. But I couldn’t find the heart to. Not after what had happened.

“It won’t do you any good,” he repeated.

“I can’t go back,” I replied.

“Why not?”

“I just…” I struggled to form an answer. “I can’t.”

“But why?”

“I couldn’t protect them… I failed them all.”

“You may have,” agreed the kid.

“I should never have promised anyone anything,” I rambled. “Should never have made promises I had no capability to fulfil. I should have known I would fail before I made the commitment.”

“Perhaps,” the kid’s dead fish eyes stared. “But without that promise of protection, they would be dead.”

“And they’re still dead,” I groaned. “And it’s all my fault.”

“Unfortunate.”

I didn’t reply. Images of what had happened flashed before my eyes. Richard shoving Emmie into my arms before getting blown up. The jump from the Great Oak. Emmie burning up and scattering into millions of green sparks.

He’d entrusted her to me. I’d failed that trust.

It didn’t even matter that I’d died as well. I could come back. They were randomised NPCs. The god’s cannon fodder. They couldn’t.

At least here in the void, it all just felt like a horrible dream. As long as I stayed here, I could pretend that Richard, Lydia and Emmie were still back at the smithy. Happy. Whole. Blissfully living without my false promises impacting their lives.

Confront the god of this world and free the crowns of Briarwood? Who was I kidding? I couldn’t even protect a child from a fire.

“But staying here won’t change anything.”

I stared at the kid.

He stared back.

“You’re just running from your responsibilities,” he accused.

I laughed at the irony of the statement.

“I don’t run from responsibilities I’ve taken. I run from the ones I have no right to take.”

“Fearing an accident and therefore never going outside is folly. Similarly, fearing failure and therefore avoiding commitment to responsibility is also folly.”

“Huh.”

“It’s time to wake up,” the kid changed the subject. “We’ve been here long enough.”

I stared up at the timer in the sky, counting down slowly while I continued to float about in the void.

“I’m a Dreamer, aren’t I? Let me dream a while longer.”

“Do as you wish.”

The kid didn’t try to convince me any longer, instead stepping off through the void. He vanished into the blackness, much like he had the first time.

I floated for a while longer, doing nothing but watch the timer tick down. My thoughts ran in circles around each other, making the same old arguments.

Who did I think I was? Master magic? Pah. I couldn’t even master what I had right now. Confront a god? I couldn’t even protect two people. Get out of here? What made me think I could do what my companions hadn’t been able to?

Being transported into a familiar world of magic had given me the idea that I could do anything. That I was great at what I did and was capable of holding my own. But now? I’d just failed.

In the moment, I’d promised to keep Richard and Emmie safe. Yet I hadn't been able to. I’d lied and promised Rosa I’d get rid of Overpower. I wouldn't be able to.

All these promises that I had no right to say yes to. This was why I’d never liked accepting responsibilities that I wasn’t sure I could fulfil. I wasn’t afraid to fail, not exactly. There was just something different about failing a responsibility as opposed to just failing.

Not only had you failed whatever task you were assigned, you’d failed everything else. Like you’d failed someone’s trust in you. Like your failure had impacted someone else, and not just you. It was just more crushing, somehow.

I closed my eyes.

That was enough. The kid was right. Staying here wouldn’t do me any good.

I felt the pull from the world tugging on my consciousness, and I followed it, drifting slowly downwards. Down and down, past the endless darkness of the void, all the way down to the floor.

I opened my eyes.

The green halo of the respawn point flickered above my head. Surrounding me were the gloomy, stone walls of the Alliance’s Guild Hall.

I got up from the floor, the stone feeling like ice beneath my fingers. Pushing through the doorway of condensed darkness, I left the spawn room.

I walked through the halls of the Guild Hall, my mood still down in the dumps. Each step closer to the entrance of the Hall was another step I wanted to stop taking. A part of me wanted to hold on to the thought that this was all a bad dream. That as long as I didn’t step out beyond the door, the blacksmith and his family would all be still alive.

But I’d have to face it eventually, wouldn’t I?

I stepped outside the Guild Hall and was met with the chilling air of the outside. There was no fire. There was no lightning. There were no flame monsters. Just the Great Oak, back to normal again.

It looked like the event had ended while I was hiding away in the void. I made my way down the tree, passing by the very same scenery that had been up in flames the night before.

Down the stairs, the crackle of fire haunted me. Lightning followed me with every step, even though the sky was clear as always.

Past the shops, unfamiliar NPCs standing in the windows, smiling as if nothing had happened. Those same shops that had been oceans of flame just a few hours ago, were pristine and unscorched.

Down, down, down, all the way to that familiar smithy. I saw the backside of someone pounding away at the anvil, and for a moment, my heart soared.

Richard? Had he survived?

Then the figure turned, and my heart fell again.

“Oh. H-hello, Chosen One,” said the unfamiliar dwarf. “What brings you to my smithy?”

“Hi,” I said hesitantly. “Who are you?”

“Why… I… I am the blacksmith. My name is Terry.”

“And your family?”

“I have a wife and two sons.”

“Oh…” I fumbled with my words. “Do you know… a blacksmith named Richard? Who lived here.”

“A blacksmith called Richard?” Terry’s eyebrows furrowed. “Never heard of anyone like that.”

“He used to own the smithy before you did,” I explained.

Terry frowned.

“What do you mean? I’ve always been the blacksmith.”

I stared.

“No, no you weren’t,” I said slowly. “The blacksmith was Richard until a few hours ago.”

“Y-You’re being absurd. I’ve never heard of this Richard in my life!” Terry scowled.

“No,” I said again. More to myself than to him. “The blacksmith was Richard. He had a wife named Lydia and a daughter called Emmie. Richard used to be a chess master, while Emmie wanted to be a princess when she grew up.”

“What n-nonsense are you—”

“I used to take Emmie to the Outer City to play. Richard made me a set of boots. I promised…” the pain in my chest returned, despite it having been a few hours since I was hit by the battle axe. “I promised to take Emmie to the Lakes of Luna. I promised to keep her safe…”

“E-enough!” Terry shouted, and flapped his hand wildly at me. “Go away! Shoo! Shoo!”

I backed away, not wanting to cause a commotion. Turning, a familiar figure standing in the window caught my eye.

I pushed open the door to the boutique next door. Poppy was standing behind the counter, looking up as I came in. She looked dishevelled and downcast, but otherwise unharmed.

“Poppy!” I called, rushing over. “You made it!”

“Yes…” she said slowly, as if unsure of herself. “I did.”

“You…” I stopped short of the counter. “You’re really okay, right?”

“Yes,” she smiled wryly. “I told you that spot was foolproof.”

We fell into awkward silence. Poppy twiddled her fingers.

“I don’t suppose you know what happened next door?” I asked. “The smithy’s manned by someone called Terry now.”

“Terry? Wasn’t he always the—” Poppy stopped herself, then stared downwards solemnly. “Oh… I see.”

“What do you mean?”

“Who was the previous blacksmith?” Poppy asked instead.

“Richard.”

Poppy’s eyes stared off into the distance as she thought. Her eyebrows twitched. Finally, she sighed and shook her head.

“Ah… I’m sorry.” she said. “I don’t remember him.”

“Why?” I asked, though I felt like I knew the answer. “He was alive and well just a few hours ago.”

“I…” Poppy‘s face fell. “I don’t know.”

“Oh…”

There was a moment of silence

“Nevermind then,” I turned to leave. “Have a good day, Poppy.”

“You too, sir!”

I closed the door to the shop and stood outside the door. I stared up at the Great Oak, its tall branches reaching high up into the bright blue sky. Just a few hours ago, it had been basked in flame, with that horrible lightning storm hovering right above it.

Not far off, I could see Terry talking to another unfamiliar dwarf. The dwarf lady said something, then they both laughed. Then a small boy came running out and tugged on the lady’s sleeves. Smiling, the whole family went back into the smithy.

It looked so natural. Every action and expression they made. As if they were real people. As if they’d lived there their entire lives. As if they hadn’t just popped into existence the moment the crisis ended.

It looked like Richard and his family had just been erased, replaced by something else. As if their deaths were just a glitch in the system, that could be easily fixed. I mean, I knew in theory that when randomised NPCs died, they were replaced by other randomised NPCs, but…

It just felt wrong.

I wanted to brand them imposters. Malicious people who’d come to take everything Richard and his family had worked for. To replace people’s memories about Richard and take his place and his life.

But I couldn’t.

It just wasn’t their fault.

I wondered whether this was how Trix had felt when he faced the Decay after Michael’s death.

No… it wasn’t quite the same. His grief had mostly been anger. But as for me… I just felt hollow. And sad.

He’d wanted to go after who was responsible, while I just wanted to pretend that nothing bad had ever happened.

He was probably right about that, but I…

The thoughts of the jump from the tree, my failure, filled my mind.

I didn’t want to try anymore.

Slowly, I climbed the tree, retracing my steps from the past few hours all the way back to the top. I sat down in that spot that Emmie had once stood. The air was cool and fresh, not a single sign indicating that a lightning storm had ever happened.

I looked out over all of Briarwood. It was still beautiful, but it felt like a dark filter had fallen over my eyes. Everything looked gloomy, ominous. I couldn’t bear to see it.

I sat down, and laid my head in my hands.

I closed my eyes.

In my mind, I was back in the lightning storm, running amidst the fire and the lightning. The tranquil shops were burning, NPCs were screaming, players were waving their weapons at great beasts. Emmie and Richard were there, running alongside me.

I dreamed of what could have happened. Of what I could have done differently.

I dreamed of a reality where my actions hadn’t ended in tragedy.

Quietly, something in my gut stirred.