29

The Feeling of Being Watched

Corvis set the sticks in front of Rian, then sat across from him and summoned his staff. He held one end above the sticks—the end that had a hovering, closed eye.

Rian couldn’t see what it was doing from this angle, but a horrible red glow was shining from it and onto the tinder. The wood caught fire, and the ray of crimson light cinched off as the eye, out of direct view, seemed to close.

Setting aside the staff, Corvis opened an inventory. Out popped a circle of rocks to form a pit, a bonfire pot with metal legs, and a water canister. In Corvis’s hands appeared some hefty stacks of raw meat.

“Where’d you get meat from?” Rian said.

“Meina, mostly.”

“I didn’t see them drop any meat back at the farm.”

“You need a specific skill to harvest meat from slain creatures. Otherwise all you can scavenge are pieces of leather. Perhaps I could teach you.” Corvis tossed the meat into the air, then retrieved his staff from the ground. As if he were waving a gigantic conductor’s wand or merely writing something onto the air, a subtle flick of his wrist with the pointed end of the staff held skyward turned the airborne slabs of meat into neatly sliced chunks which fell into the pot.

It was, considerably, the most anime thing Rian had ever seen. “You’re sure you’re never going to fight for me?” he asked.

Corvis gently poured water from the canister into the pot. “Only if you give me a reason to. Even then, it’s unlikely.” He stored the canister back into his inventory, then retrieved a ladle and began to stir in some ground herbs and salt as the water heated up. “There are some rules by which servants of Yindra must adhere.”

“Like?”

Corvis looked at him like that was a stupid question.

Rian sat back, glancing aside. He guessed Corvis couldn’t answer that. “So how exactly does one become a ‘servant of Yindra?’ Is that like something you signed up for, or…”

Taking off his gloves, Corvis set them aside before continuing to stir the pot. Rian almost gawked: there were dozens of scars, running up and down his hands and fingers.

“Some of our species, the novai, are taken from our progenitors at birth,” Corvis said. “Chosen, to become Yindra’s elite servants. The Loyalists.”

That was a bit of an odd choice of words for “parents.” Progenitors.

“You don’t resent it?” Rian said. “For being taken from your family?”

“Not really.” Corvis looked hardly interested as he watched the steam rise from the pot. “We may share similarities in appearance, but the species of Miracia behave quite differently when it comes to certain matters, I’ve found. Our kind, specifically, comes from the north—the Penumbra. Things operate…differently there.”

He’s from the north side of Miracia? So that explained why Corvis seemed so ungodly strong at times. Rian wondered if he was secretly level 99 or something. He still couldn’t see anything about his stats.

“As I understand,” Corvis said, “humans have a familial bond that we do not. Though in a way, the Loyalists became my family. They provided me that which I desire above all else.” He scooped up a chunk of meat from the bottom of the pot, inspected it, then sunk it back down. With the faintest, genuine smile, he said, “Purpose.”

“What exactly do these Loyalists do, anyway?”

“They interpret messages from Yindra,” Corvis said. “She is the only of the Four that has communicated with us and continues to do so. The fate of the others—Goam, Ezre, and Altir—is mostly known. Slain, in one way or another.”

Rian shifted around where he sat. “Then wouldn’t that confirm that Yindra is still around? She’s still sending messages to you all, right?”

“No, because there’s no way of telling when these messages are coming from. They could be from the past. Or the future. It’s possible that Yindra has become scattered through time and has no ‘present’ existence. She is, as you may understand, a goddess. She can see the future and past as one, so sending messages into the future isn’t something beyond her abilities.”

Neither is sending messages outside of this world, apparently, Rian thought.

“Solving the mystery of her existence is one of the Loyalists’ goals,” Corvis said, “just as it is for a subsection of you off-worlders.”

Entry added to lore book: “Time is an Optional Way of Existing”

Progress to next lore achievement: 75%

You have gained experience! (+36)

“What I don’t get is—why?” Rian said. “Why would my mom be where Yindra is? That means she had to’ve found her. Did she go up north?” He shook his head, trying to reason this all out. “There’s no way she could’ve done that. Not by herself.” But when he thought back to his dream, it was undeniable: Yindra had told him that his mom would be with her.

“She may have discovered a memory of Yindra’s whereabouts,” Corvis said, “not necessarily her true location. There are many possibilities, as I told you.”

“But then why did she disappear? My mom hasn’t logged in for months. So she ran into some form of Yindra and then just…vanished?”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Reluctant thoughts were creeping up about this whole impromptu quest to locate a goddess. If this was all some kind of trap, luring him toward the endgame only to suffer the same fate that he presumed his mom had, then he was being strung along—for a reason he couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“I know this might sound weird,” Rian said, “but I get the feeling that my mom was doing the same things as me, here. And, if you’ll believe me, she’s actually better at games than I am.”

“So it would seem if her situation is true and she indeed went north,” Corvis said, stirring the pot. He scooped some of the broth, blew away the steam, and tasted it. “I wouldn’t let that discourage you, though. No one is truly defined by their ancestors.”

“Yeah, well, it might be that way for you, but she—” Rian glanced up at the stars. He’d almost forgotten they were there, but he could see them so clearly now. There was no light pollution here like there was in the city, back at home.

“Games were her whole life,” he said. It always used to sound ridiculous when he told people his mom was a professional gamer, but it was true. She’d realized a dream that only a few people had ever managed to achieve. “She was the real deal, not like I was. I was doing well with streaming Shadow Spirits, but that game’s nothing compared to what she played. She was playing against other people and making a living doing it, competing.” Returning his gaze to the firelight, letting it clear his mind, he said, “Sometimes it feels like I was only ever trying to live up to her.”

“What about a father?” Corvis said. “You have those, don’t you?”

Rian shook his head. “I did, but…he wasn’t around for very long. Traffic accident, a few years after I was born. Mom raised me by herself, for the most part, after that. All he left behind were some software royalties that we lived on for a few years.” He picked at the grass beside him, finding he could pluck the blades out of the ground. “I guess it’s kind of weird to look up to your mom, isn’t it? But she was the only person around I could look up to. And she really deserved it. For everything she did for me.”

A moment of silence passed before Corvis said, “It is unfortunate. That you’ve been swept up into all this.”

That wasn’t exactly an apology, but Rian would take it. Spilling some of his guts to an alien had felt better than he’d thought.

Corvis’s trust in you has increased! Progress to next companionship level: 50%

Oh. That was cool to see, too, he guessed. Not a level-up yet, but still.

Corvis produced two bowls from his inventory, then filled each with a hefty scoop of the stew. He handed a bowl to Rian.

Seasoned Meina Stew (Consumable)

Grade: A (Legendary)

For 4 hours: increases EXP gain by 10% and reduces stamina usage by 10%.

“A hearty stew with a savory flavor, perfectly seasoned. With each bite or sip, the strength of the land itself flows into you.”

A decent buff, it seemed, though Rian supposed the amount of time required to cook the item would offset the subsequent XP bonus. He figured cooking was more of a money-making profession or a side quest of sorts rather than a major component of the game.

He tried a sip of the broth and it almost blew his mind.

A world of herbal flavors unfolded, ambrosia of thyme and rosemary with just the right amount of salt. He felt it warming him on the way down before settling in his stomach. It was just the broth, but he almost couldn’t believe it. Screw all that nonsense of cooking being a “side quest.” This was the real deal. Sorry, mom and Yindra. He needed to become a chef first.

When he scooped up a chunk of the meat and bit in, it practically melted. “Holy shit,” he said through a mouthful of stew.

“Do they not have food like this in your home world?” Corvis said, only mildly amused.

“They do, but—” He swallowed. “I think my brain knows I haven’t eaten all day. God damn. I was not expecting that.”

He couldn’t begin to express his relief at food still tasting good. The game had changed certain things about him, but it seemed he still retained his enjoyment of food. It was just that he didn’t feel hungry anymore, which was a better trade-off than he’d thought.

He didn’t feel full, but when he wanted another bowl to double the item’s buff—just to see if it were possible—a notification appeared, along with a cooldown timer sitting at slightly less than four hours.

[!] Food Items & Consumables

Certain items such as meals can only be consumed once in a period of time. This cooldown period is reduced by having a significant amount of Strength.

Okay, okay. Fine, he thought, dismissing the text. He wasn’t going to break the game just yet.

When he finished the meal, the buff finally appeared on his HUD: the EXP and stamina bonus that the item had promised. He set the bowl down, then glanced aside at something distant catching his eye.

A silent, dark rustling. In the forest.

“Wait,” Rian said. “Is that…”

He peered into the night. He swore he’d seen something, like a figure hidden in the shadows—then, just as it had caught his attention, it retreated. Soundlessly.

That was what told him something wasn’t right: a random forest creature wasn’t going to lurk around without unintentionally making noise.

Unless it was hunting him.

“Is there someone else here?” Rian whispered, hoping Corvis would answer.

When Rian turned to him, Corvis glanced in the direction he’d been looking. Despite the glare of the bonfire, Corvis’s pupils widened as if to take in the light. He blinked a few times then straightened up.

Corvis relaxed and turned his gaze back to the firelight, resumed stoking the pit with a stick. “I don’t see anyone. You might’ve imagined it.”

Rian scratched his head. Maybe this all-nighter was getting to him. And the fact that whatever he saw was completely silent meant the darkness was probably playing tricks on his mind. But he could’ve sworn it looked like someone was spying on them.

Regardless, he doubted Corvis would lie if it endangered him.

Rian checked his friends list just to make sure Torgo—and his main, Ogrot—wasn’t online, attempting to sneak up on him in the middle of the night to shank him when he wasn’t expecting it. But Torgo was offline on both characters, as expected. Rian closed the window, sighing, trying to reassure himself that no one knew where he was. Hell, he hardly knew where he was, in relation to Elmguard.

He was, however, out in the open.

He got up, told Corvis that he was heading back to the nullshard fragment he’d been at a few hours ago, and they put out the bonfire and stuffed away their items.

When they were ready, Rian started jogging into the forest. Corvis floated ahead and guided him for once.

Whatever he thought he’d seen in the forest was in the opposite direction from which he’d come, so he had no qualms about getting further away. And now that his armor was upgraded, he wanted to try killing that quadriform creature that had ridiculed him earlier.

There was only a bit of time before sunrise, he guessed, and he was still two levels below and a bit under-geared for what he was hunting. But it would be a little challenge. A way of testing himself. The spirit of a speedrunner still burned inside him.

It would be easy, he thought to himself sarcastically. All he had to do was not die.