45

A Pledge

Rian turned to continue walking down the white brick road. The advancement test location was a few minutes away, and given that the streets were mostly empty, now was a perfect time to grill Corvis on what had happened back in the Rift.

“I think you ought to explain some things,” Rian said.

Corvis floated up to him and hovered alongside. “I believe everything should be self-evident,” he said. “What could there be to explain?”

“Well—” Rian placed one index finger on another. “How about the fact that you set me up against one of your friends in a duel to the death and didn’t warn me about it ahead of time?”

“Yes, I suppose I owe you an apology. Though I wish to say that it was merely to test your abilities, the truth is…I doubted you, Rian. Regardless of whether I warned you, I didn’t believe that you were capable enough to overcome Altrexis.”

“I wasn’t, honestly. The only reason I won was because of Decha.”

“And yet you still won. Decha’s sacrifice only occurred because of your actions. Your will extends beyond yourself.”

“But you killed Decha—instead of me. I mean, I get that it was pretty much my fault that it happened, and I guess I appreciate that you didn’t murder me. But you lied about that as well. You’re not exactly making a good case for me to listen to you anymore.”

Maneuvering to float in front of Rian as he walked, Corvis gave him a look of displeasure. “Decha was placed into a situation where I was forced to choose to either end your journey prematurely or end a fellow Miracian’s existence. I ultimately chose for your benefit, but I’m sure you can see why I was upset at the time. Each misstep I correct on your behalf carries its own set of risks. There is only so much influence I may exert before the consequences become disastrous.”

Chewing his lip, Rian stopped walking. “All right. I’ll be more careful.” He stepped past Corvis, who turned to follow. “But you shouldn’t have lied to me in the first place. Everything could’ve turned out differently if I’d known what was coming.”

Corvis placed a fingertip against one of the horns protruding from his head. “I swear it to you, Rian, that I will never again willingly endanger you. In fact, by the Aeyai, let us make it so.”

Corvis has made a pledge to you!

Companionship requirements met; Corvis will no longer lie to you.

Rian blinked at the notification. Their companionship was still only at level one, but Corvis had just gone ahead and done that on the spot.

“Did you just make some kind of pact?” Rian said. “What’ll happen if you lie to me again?”

Corvis smiled. “I now exist at a nexus within the Aeyai where it is physically impossible to do so. You may ask away.”

It probably wasn’t as big of a change as Rian hoped. Corvis didn’t know everything about what was going on, so it wasn’t like Rian could pry a ton of answers from him.

But he might as well try.

Rian stopped walking, turned to face him. “Tell me the purpose of the Mark.”

“You do realize,” Corvis said, “that I promised not to lie to you, not that I’d tell you the truth?”

Ugh, you deceitful little—

“Okay,” Rian said, “how about…why can’t you tell me anything about the Mark? You said it’s only servants of Yindra that are okay to see it. Isn’t every NPC in this world just a fragment of Yindra’s AI? What’s so bad about any of the others seeing a symbol on my shoulder?” He couldn’t forget the look on Decha’s face, but he was careful not to let it slip that the Memory of Goam had seen the Mark as well. “And why does it seem like every other NPC recognizes it?”

“If the time is not right for it to become known,” Corvis said, “then your life is forfeit. Its purpose, I’m afraid, is too dangerous to reveal to you ahead of time. We are dealing with Yindra, after all. The depth of its magic is unknown to me, but there is likely a temporal nature to the Mark itself.”

“So you’ll tell me what it’s for, later?” Rian said.

“I can tell you this: it will grant you entry to a certain location.”

“You can’t tell me anything more specific?”

Corvis didn’t answer. That figured.

Rian hoped this wasn’t a terribly big leap to make, but… “Okay, so let’s assume Yindra can see the future. The System itself can apparently do that, from what I’ve seen. Did Yindra tell you about anything that’s going to happen?”

Corvis said nothing for a moment. He glanced at Rian. “Yes. She did.”

“And I’m assuming,” Rian said, “that you can’t tell me what’ll happen because it would change things.”

“That is correct. It would affect the outcome of the future she envisioned. So long as certain information is withheld from you, you’ll remain on the intended path. Even if you consciously know that a piece of your future is preordained.”

Oh god, it’s like a wave function collapse? Observing the outcome changes the outcome.

Rian sighed. “Great. Why do I get the feeling there’s more weird quantum stuff I’m getting involved in?” He glanced down at his shoulder. “Can you at least give me anything to cover it on my skin—like, directly, so this doesn’t happen again?”

“Unfortunately, no. Only clothing may obscure the Mark. Any other attempt at altering or removing it is considered sacrilegious.”

“You’d kill me is what you’re saying.”

Corvis glanced up in thought, then nodded.

“Awesome,” Rian said. Sarcasm aside, it wasn’t as many answers as he’d been hoping for, but it was reassuring to know that finding Yindra was still going to resolve most of his questions. If the Mark was like a key to somewhere, he imagined it would be involved with finding her.

It was getting quieter, the sounds of the raid receding. As Rian approached the inner wall that encircled the second ring of Nostdal, he spotted a guard standing in front of a gate. The guard was asleep, leaning against the wall. Startled, he woke up as Rian approached, then directed Rian through.

On the other side, there was a nearly vacant merchant alley, and opposite of it was a small group of guardsman NPCs gathered around and throwing down cards. Holograms shimmered in the air as they played.

The tumult of the raid resounded even from here. Rian could hear the players cheering—probably a good sign.

Walking again, barely above a whisper Rian said, “So, if I’m getting this right, the Loyalists are supposed to be pacifists.”

“Yes,” Corvis said. “We all are, despite our appearances. Our purpose is to suppress the accumulation of power, as was the very intent of the Four when they first came to Miracia during the era of Pyce and Onsolia. Though now, the war continues albeit in a different form, with different sides. It may never end, as it is.”

“But if that’s your purpose, does that…mean you’re going to kill me when I get strong enough?” He hoped that wasn’t the case: that he was being vaulted up through the game just to be destroyed for nothing more than the satisfaction of the Loyalists.

The level of surprise on Corvis’s face was almost as surprising to Rian. “By Yindra’s grace—” Corvis said, exasperated. “No. You are an exception, Rian. It is by her will that I may only interfere if—and only if—you let it become known that you carry her Mark. That is the only condition under which I may end your journey.”

The road led to a flight of convoluted stairs that wound through the city. The shadow of the third ring’s walls loomed over them.

“But you’re constantly fighting against the players,” Rian said. “You’re basically at war with us. How can you really call yourselves pacifists?”

“It is hypocritical, perhaps, to consider ourselves such,” Corvis said. “But one cannot obtain true peace without the requisite power to enforce it. Our methods of attaining power are similar to yours, but the rules surrounding its acquisition are vastly different. I don’t suppose that is what defines us, however. The reasons behind one’s actions are more important than the actions themselves, wouldn’t you agree?”

“But that’s…antithetical to the game,” Rian said. “Entirely. If you guys win and beat the players, there won’t be a game anymore.”

“Precisely,” Corvis said.

The stairs led into one of the marble buildings as they approached the third ring of the city. Inside, hovering lights illuminated the hallway, but still there was no sound of anyone nearby.

“Corvis. Can you tell me if this is really a virtual reality game? Or is it something more?”

“That is a question,” he said, “best left for the one you seek.”

“You…don’t know?”

“I’m not much of a philosopher, unfortunately. I am but a servant to powers beyond either of us.”

Another half-answer, but it still seemed to fit. This wasn’t just a VR game. It didn’t make sense to design a game around, well, a game-like world being invaded by power-hungry players. It was just too meta. The other guild members had shot down most of Rian’s questions surrounding the nature of it all, but he had to wonder—

Was it because the alternative was unthinkable, that they were partaking in a gamified war against another world? He wished it was his imagination getting ahead of itself, but everything kept pointing toward that conclusion. Maybe that was the point of all this, Yindra’s intention in pulling him into the game and trapping him here. To show him the truth.

As he continued down the hall, he thought he heard a commotion—not distant enough to be the raid, but close enough to sound like a fight.

He stopped breathing as he walked into view of a room, a small auditorium to his left, filled with what must’ve been a hundred players.