Annika Drevyn flashed a warm smile for her flushing elven counterpart. “It is always hard having to suck up to our race’s sworn enemies, isn’t it, sister? Frankly, I’m amazed you Blues do it so well.”

She turned to face the bemused humans gazing on. “Unlike our unfortunately over-extended Blue friends, The Sylvan alliance, in conjunction with our many elven compatriots, is already a powerful force to be reckoned with,” she said with a wave to the two pairs of elves behind her, who dipped their heads in accord with those words. “Between our Houses, we now control more than 30% of all territories already claimed. And you need not worry, because no matter which Elven House comes out on top, all territories claimed by our soldiers and allies are honored, and those tithes you earn are yours in perpetuity. And no matter what happens during the tides of war, the noble rank, title, and manor you earn in service to us will remain your birthright… and your family’s birthright, for all time!

“So if you wish to join a faction just and righteous, to fight beside brothers and sisters who will honor your fighting spirit as we purge our enemies from the face of our beautiful home, if you wish to be part of an alliance that will do its utmost to transform every war-ravaged city into a woodland paradise, if you wish to live the dream of glory echoed in countless games and novels filled with valor and virtue, then join us! Whether or not you’re one of the very few able to shape the fate of an entire world as a Contender, or simply have the fierce noble heart of a soldier willing to fight for a noble cause, either way, we will happily welcome you by our side!”

Eric couldn’t help but grin at the inspired round of applause this earned her, Vincent pumping his fist, a tear in his eye as Herb sighed and shook his head, and Eric couldn’t help but think that perhaps Snicklit’s tight fist squeezing so many people’s purses would matter very little in the heady moments right after territory acquisition, should any would-be hero attending this meeting actually come to savor the rush of an entire territory’s destiny flowing through their soul.

Embracing such a wonder, as glorious as the most fantastic of all games he had ever played, coming to life as both player and game master, Eric seriously doubted in any moment of near god-like ascension, that the nasty threats and sharp-toothed promises made by scaly shark-toothed little fucks would sway adventurers who found the grit, drive, or fortune to ascend as far as the Classers in this room already had.

And if the angry glare Glrrtch was flashing Annika was any sign...neither did he.

Eric smirked. He was certain that a Charisma role or ability had come into play somewhere, feeling surprisingly moved by her words, but he couldn’t deny their appeal. If he hadn’t already had a plan in mind, if he hadn’t met Rica, if he wasn’t secretly afraid that any form of reaching out to any elven faction might bring him back under his mother’s golden cage… or tied up in Lady Valorn’s marriage bed… he might be clapping and cheering himself.

As it was, though… Eric noted two more sets of speakers, one of whose piercing jewel-like orbs and rune covered ebony skin sent shivers down his spine, and the other? The other included a girl who looked as human as human could be. But the moment he caught her too knowing smile… the way her bright green eyes flashed with a certain hunger… he felt far more imperiled under her gaze than he ever had by the pair of Githlords even now measuring them all with their inhuman stares.

And the worst thing about it was that Eric recognized the girl that his Interface made damn clear was no human, even as she stepped forward with a bow.

“Ava Silver,” she said, “of Clan Silver.”

Exactly the words Eric knew she’d say.

Knowing this girl far better than anyone else present, which really was no surprise.

They were second cousins, after all. She was two years older than him, and until very recently, had always enjoyed chatting with him and escaping to play mobile games over countless stuffy family get-togethers over the years. And maybe she had stolen a surprised kiss with a teasing joke that they were legal in all fifty states on his birthday once upon a time, before roaring with laughter at his expression.

Fortunately, she had teased him no further than that, from that day on as chaste and friendly as she had always been before. But ever since that day, she had been measuring him with her too knowing eyes, forever snickering at all his fumbles both physically and otherwise, most especially whenever he messed up his lines, which was constantly, when his mother took her on as a personal assistant the moment Ava turned eighteen. Of course his mother had absolutely no sympathy for her son, Eric earning so many caustic comments from the famous actress that his ears burned to this day in memory.

And now Ava was peering at him once more with that same teasing smile… but Social Perception now made it impossible to deny the carnal hunger he saw in eyes that said that she would have happily made a man of him and claimed him for herself two years ago, if he had actually surrendered to her kiss.

He tried to tell himself that he was being a self-conscious idiot. That local North American conventions of only a century had little bearing on the lives of nobles or elves… for all that he refused to believe he was either.

A conceit Ava quickly burst herself.

“Greetings, fellow challengers and noble contenders. Brothers and sisters. I, Ava Silver, and my brother Allen Silver of the Sylvan Alliance, wish you all long life and good health.”

She flashed a bold smile for everyone who had spoken before her. “Much like my fellows, I’m here to appeal to your sense of honor. Your sense of adventure. Your hunger for glory and esteem that will last far longer than a single ephemeral lifetime.”

She paused thoughtfully. “Treasure? Title? A grand manor of your own and a noble elven husband or wife to fill your nights with bliss and your days with sweetest joy? Yes, all of those await you. Yet they are but the first of many treasures awaiting those noble souls who dare to join the Silver Clan and the Sylvan Alliance as a whole, to fight by our side for a cause that transcends petty politicking and embraces the fate of our world itself!”

She and her brother then bowed their heads before engaging in a speech almost as stirring as Annika’s. But, as Annika’s own hard smile made clear, it was just an echo of everything that had already been said before. Emphasizing glory, honor, and recognition. A glorious manor for every lord to call their own, tithe and title and yes, the possibility of marrying into elven nobility and having a family filled with beautifully talented mixed-race children able to cast spells that would do any epic fantasy fan proud. A dream held close to the hearts of many a gaming nerd like himself.

Before he had found out that he was, in fact, one of those children.

If there was one addition Eric did find intriguing, it was the implied promise that they had access to tomes, resources, and trainers that could see any champion comfortably into the ranks of Bronze. An enticement only one group had dared until then. An implied promise that transfigured Annika’s bemused smile into something hard and cold. And Eric could all but swear she was whispering something about forbidden paths, for all that Eric heard nothing but the musical notes of woodwind instruments, so faint as to be barely heard at a ll.

Enticing as this final tidbit was, Ava then went completely off the expected script when, with a nod Caliban’s way, a movie began to play on the back wall that revealed itself only now to be the magical equivalent of a magnificent crystalline movie screen.

What chilled Eric to the quick wasn’t the 3-D projection of the movie, having already experienced that wonder in Anime form when he first took a tour of the Suite he and Rica now shared together. It was that the entire film that played out before his eyes was one he recognized all too well, as Ava narrated the cinematic work that gained uniform looks of awe, amazement, and more than a few excited grins from nearly every guest present.

Everyone save Eric, who looked on with horror.

Because the opening scene of a young man dressed like a paladin of old, crying over the crumpled form of his sister, was one he knew all too well.

Having memorized the lines, word for word.

It was the premier that never saw the big screen. A production that Eric had spent over a year of his life struggling through.

A movie he recalled as having so many extra cameras so very different from all the other movie sets he had seen over the years. Yet not once had Eric gotten a clear answer on just what the hell they were all for.

It was a movie he had thought, with only a twinge of regret and mostly relief, would never see the light of day.

Only now. it was.

Perhaps the only movie made that translated seemlessly into the arcane 3-D projectors playing now… as it became horrifyingly clear that his mother had deliberately recorded her final production with film that could survive in even a high-mana environment.

As if she had known from the start that the world he had known all his life would end.

And now it was all too clear that beloved project of hers hadn’t been about getting Eric his big break in show business, or about generating a billion dollar block-buster.

Not in the least.

Rather, the too choppy collage of emotional scenes where his acting was pure cringe, mixed with combat scenes where he actually wasn’t embarrassed for his face to be shown… was absolutely perfect to cram into a 30 minute motivational speech with Ava, who had been there every single damned day of production, to weave into an epic, moving narrative about a pair of struggling human survivors, just like them. Survivors who had managed to rise above the roots of tragedy and madness that had destroyed their city, their world… a pain all of them had suffered… only to find themselves the heirs of an ancient heritage, a blending of races and destinies, that would allow them to save Earth. Not just Earth, but humanity itself.

Or so said Ava, her husky voice now throbbing with emotional intensity as Eric looked on in horror, the scenes seamlessly flipping from him in realistic costume armor with his blond hair slipping free of shining helmet striking out at armored foes in costumes that looked so very like orcs… to actual captured footage of him roaring like a titan, glowing with an eldritch corona Eric knew must have been the combined blessings of an entire city in peril. And the cameras captured every moment of him charging and tearing through countless scores of orcs like an avenging angel of destruction, leaving nothing but porcine squeals and explosions of crimson gore in his wake, unleashing cannons cased in flesh and bone pulled from nowhere, squeezing his fist with a maniacal gleam as an entire citadel rooftop exploded in death and flame. Then a quick cut-scene to him weaving about with monstrous grace, so fast that the eye could barely track him, when his Strength had temporarily been well over a hundred and his Quickness had also been beyond the pale.

Eric’s heart was pounding. His cheeks were so hot he was surprised they weren’t physically ablaze, unable to believe what he was seeing before him.

His mother had known.

His mother had known what he had been going through the whole time.

Aurelia had recordings of everything he had done in Gilton!

Not only had she done absolutely nothing to rescue him… she had used his desperate struggle for survival as the backbone of her recruitment pitch!

He couldn’t get over what a striking contrast his desperate real life struggle against countless hundreds of foes was compared to scenes linked together from the movie he and his sister had made together. Yet what was most striking of all wasn’t the jarring shifts in armor and the scars on his face that had gone from hideous to strangely alluring, but how stiff and awkward he looked in his fake armor, consoling his princess of a sister… and how fearsome, potent, and savage he looked when he was killing things for real.

One truth above all others rang crystal clear in his mind.

Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t act for shit.

But as awful and cringe-worthy as his own scenes were, he couldn’t move a muscle. Didn’t dare blink, or lose a second of cut scenes of his sister. Flashes of time showcasing a very real Elonia, looking both far harder, fiercer, and more stressed than Eric had ever scene her before, exhaustion marking her features even with the boons of being a pod survivor, able to restore herself each day.

And the fearsome intent look in her eyes as she raised an intricate crystal rod and what Eric suspected was an mithril gauntlet before raining down holy hell down on her foes in the form of meteor showers, titanic explosions, or summoned elementals of flame upon hoard after hoard of screaming orcs, made it clear that his sister had blossomed to brilliant, deadly effect in her chosen class.

Then the film was over at last, save for a final scene, the breathless crowd gazing at Eric and Elonia both, hand in hand as they gazed out into the sunset, the room resonating with his sister’s final words about forging herself into a queen worthy of an entire world, and Eric’s oath to serve her until the mithril crown of ascension rested squarely upon her brow.

It was all Eric could do not to laugh or sob, he wasn’t sure which, humiliated beyond belief when first Vincent, then countless others slowly turned around to look right at him!!!

The snarling orcs were radiating palpable fury, and looked like they wanted nothing more than to rip everyone’s head off. Most especially his own, when the pair snarled, turned around, and locked gazes with him.

And Eric had no doubt that if the accords weren’t firmly in place, they would attempt to do just that.

With a cold smile for their porcine foes, Ava spoke on.

“The struggle those two children endured is the struggle of mankind itself. For I will tell you a secret, one I hope you keep close to your hearts. Elonia Silver is just as much a human New Yorker who loved the city she was born in as she is the direct descendant of the Winter Queen herself! And that is the boon we grant you that no other faction can! When you fight under Elonia’s banner, you’re fighting not just for a righteous cause, but for humanity itself! Because should we prove victorious, should our battlemage who would dare even the front lines for the sake of her people triumph, you will have the privilege of being ruled by a queen who is as much a member of your tribe as she is our own. A champion of both races, to celebrate a union of both realms. A world forged by its own champions, ruled by its own queen!”

She flashed a brilliant smile. “It might seem like the most absurd of improbabilities, I know, with so many other Contenders eager to devour our world, our home. Because my brother and I, like our cousins, are just as human as we are Sylvan. We are children of multiple heritages, as are so many of you. And with your help, with your aid, we can make our dream of self-rule a reality. With you all fighting by our side, marching under our banner, I know there is no limit what we can all accomplish, together!”

Maybe it was the husky warmth in her voice, ringing harmoniously with desperate hope. Or perhaps it was the conviction any fool could see in her shimmering eyes as soft stirring orchestral music continued playing on in the background as Eric and Elonia both gazed off into the sunset, the final frozen scene of a movie that had only been seen at one premier.

And never again.

Until now.

Annie just couldn’t stop staring at Ava. “Wait, wait, wait… are you really saying you’re as much human as Elf? I mean, you were really a girl who attended school just like my daughter...” she swallowed at this. “Like my daughter was.”

Ava flashed a gentle smile. “I attended Stepsons, yes. I graduated less than two years ago. Music, painting, and graphic design came as natural as breathing to me. Math? A wee bit trickier.”

This earned a sympathetic chuckle or two. “Stepsons,” Vincent said with a bemused shake of his head. “Talk about elite prep. Fast track to Harvard, maybe?”

Ava laughed at that. “How about first we see about reclaiming this world for ourselves? Then we can see about bringing back Ivy League education, along with a decent spell-casting curriculum to go with everything else.”

“Like Hogglewarts,” said the slender mage by Annie’s side.

Ava beemed. “Exactly like Hoggleworts. But with even cooler magical games.”

The Arcanist nodded. “Our kids would love that.” He squeezed Annie’s hand, which told Eric so much right there.

“The two left to us, anyway,” she said, suddenly looking close to tears.

The man who was clearly her husband held her close.

Eric blinked at that, even as Ava nodded in heartfelt sympathy.

For the jocular warrior to reveal such an intimate detail so candidly, so openly… absurd Charisma or other node gifts had to be in play.

Maybe.

Either way, still in shock over what he had seen, still speechless by what his mother had let happen to him, by how utterly and completely his desperate bid to save a city and survive himself had been used… Eric wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as he possibly could.

Desperate eyes caught Caliban’s own, the elf’s normally enigmatic features scrunched in something that looked suspiciously like sympathy.

“Is the meeting officially over?” Eric asked in a hoarse voice, words that caused far too many faces to turn his way.

“Shit, you’re kidding me! Isn’t that the kid from the movie?”

“That’s Prince Eric Silver? What the fuck is he doing here, anyway?”

“Now I remember! Aurelia had two kids, Elonia and him! I saw them in the entertainment section. It really does look like him! Only… more buff. Definitely more buff. And his eyes weren’t quite so red. At least they weren’t back before the world went to hell.”

“Damn, he was just sitting here, goading the orcs the whole time. No wonder they hate him. If that movie was legit, he tore through hundreds of them!”

“My interface skill just reads him as a Basic Conscript. How the hell did he get so strong?”

Eric tuned out the voices as best he could, even as the stares burned into him, recognizing a few voices all too well.

“You should recruit him. Your wife would be ecstatic!” Herb whispered to Vincent, who coolly shook his head.

“And get both the orcs and goblins eager to destroy my corp? I don’t think so, Herb. We’re a dungeon running company, same as you. It’s all about known risks and rewards. Not playing Napoleon and getting our asses blown away by orcish cannon fire.”

“Believe me, I get it,” Herb said. “You want the truth? I just came here for the sweetass buffet. And yeah, the goblins swore to reduce our guild interest rates a full 1%, as long as I sat through this bullshit conference,” Herb said with a twinkle in his eye.

Vincent laughed as Eric’s ears burned. “Same boat, brother. Goblin promise, wifey’s orders. At least now we can fill up on the grub! Going to fill up my pouch of holding with no shame. Not touching the pork, though. I’ll leave orc death-grudges to the boy who clearly wants to wipe them all off the face of the planet.”

Eric locked desperate eyes with Caliban, silently pleading with the man to call the stupid conference adjourned.

The Blue manager finally gave a grudging nod. “The final pair of Gith Lords present are not permitted to give any speech at all. Which should tell you all you need to know. You are free to speak to them as you choose. I will say no more than that.”

Caliban gazed pointedly at the perfectly silent pair of ebony skinned warriors marked by silver runes, and even in his growing panic, Eric could feel their potency. Their power. How he would have loved to speak to them. As it was…

Caliban cleared his throat. “As it stands, you are all welcome to stay, partake of the fare, and chat with any and every representative who has piqued your interest. And as of this moment… you may now all withdraw without penalty to your standings as System recognized Contenders.”

Ava’s eyes immediately snapped up, her brow furrowed. Eric felt an ice cold shiver when her roving gaze came so close to claiming his own.

“Eric? I know you’re here, cousin. We have to talk!”

But Eric was already gone.

Racing down the stairs for all he was worth, a heartbeat away from darting back to his suite and holding his girl tight… before being hit with the ice-cold certainty that they were waiting for him there.

A trap.

An ambush of the most diabolical sort, and one where they wouldn’t ruffle a single feather on his girlfriend’s head.

Merely wait for Eric to arrive, arrange a ‘family outing,’ and before he knew it, he’d be constrained by so many charms and wards that he’d be his family’s devoted lapdog before the night was out. He’d find himself bound by gold ring, silver collar, and chains of duty to Commander Valorn, or hell, maybe even his own second cousin, before dawn.

“The hell I’ll let that happen,” he whispered aloud, heart now hammering as fast as it ever had when charging into battle. Only now instead of fierce madcap exhilaration, all he felt was a growing sense of dread.

More certain than ever that maybe he hadn’t been the weak-willed goofball of a young man who just didn’t have the spine to break free that he had thought of himself as for far too long. It was a lie he had always told himself to feel better about his fate, bound by chains of blood and mind magics he had had no hope of breaking. Not, at least, when his mind was still so clouded that he could bemoan a lack of power and Falloutesque hardship while relaxing with an ice cold beer and his favorite snack food pulled from an ever refilling freezer with comfortable halogen lights caressing the pages of his favorite book before he got up for yet another training session.

He hadn’t just been a shy kid unable to break free.

He had been the pawn of a woman who would crown herself empress of an entire world, he and his sister just pieces on the board that, however valued, would never be allowed to make their own moves. And he was somehow certain that if he was ever forced to face his mother again, his path of glorious growth along the darkest and most unconventional paths would be cut short before he ever had a chance to truly blossom.

At that moment he felt like a man drowning in deep, deep waters, holding his breath against the increasingly awful pressure of a crushing spell seeking to slow his feet and send him inevitably racing back up the stairs to his suite and the hard-eyed woman waiting for him within…

And then he burst into the lobby, taking great big gasps of air, quickly catching the concierge’s eye while avoiding the hard-eyed looks of a pair of suits slowly closing in on him as he raced up to her.