Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
When Alexander had given me the cloak from Aphrodite, the prospect of a seasonal change seemed so distant.
A few days later and Alexander is still uselessly looking off into the distance at the edge of our camp but the air has shifted.
It pricks along my bare flesh, and the wind whips locks of my hair out of the ornate updo I just got a few days ago.
It was already a little disheveled from days of wearing it, so I pull out all my pins and brush it as I gaze at our camp’s glorious view.
We’d positioned our camp just south of Thebe on the crest of a high hill, so I can see the road leading north from the city.
It bisects a mountain range and reminds me of the skyscraper-lined street I used to walk to get from the subway station to my job.
Wind would funnel between the skyscrapers so forcefully that I didn’t dare wear a skirt.
I’m suddenly more grateful than ever for my new cloak.
Sylvia is boiling grains. It doesn’t smell all that appetizing, but having a belly full of something warm and substantial is the perfect way to start a day traveling in the cold.
Cait approaches me, wearing a full suit of leathers in addition to a woolen cloak.
I’m jealous. As a barbarian, she gets to wear stuff made of thick material, while I’m basically wearing a sheet.
Despite her much warmer clothing, I hear her teeth chatter as she sits next to me.
“I’ll never forgive the game developers for the newbie quest chain,” she says. “Why do they make everyone go north? This is supposed to be a game inspired by Greek mythology. We should be eating olives on a rock overlooking the sea while basking under the Mediterranean sun.”
“Well, there’s a lot that doesn’t gel with the game’s theme,” I say. “I mean, players can choose to be an orc. Those don’t exist in Greek mythology. Elves don’t either.”
With a nod, Cait adds, “It’s like some guys said, ‘Let’s take a fantasy RPG and toss some gods and myths in. No one will notice if it doesn’t make sense.’”
Cait’s impression of the devs is so over-the-top and comical that I can’t help but laugh.
She smiles at my reaction, clearly pleased with her own joke.
Even with her heavy barbarian gear, it’s hard to forget that she’s the popular mean girl type.
How does someone like her wind up someplace like this?
“Who were you?” I ask. “Before Peripeteia.”
“A liar,” she answers. My confusion must be evident, because her chest bubbles with a silent chuckle.
“I was pretending to be someone my parents trained me to be my whole life. I’m the only daughter of five children.
My mom was so ready to have someone to do girly stuff with.
And, mostly, I enjoyed it. I mean, look at me.
” Cait gestures at her perfect body with a slow wave of her hand. “This takes effort, but…”
“But?”
“Girls are only supposed to be into choir and makeup and boys and stuff,” she says. “They’re not supposed to like sports and video games. At least that’s what my mom told me.”
“And you felt differently,” I say with a nod of my head.
Cait shakes her head. “No, I thought she was right, and that there was something wrong with me. I enjoy being a girly girl. I like getting dolled up and gossiping with my friends. It just isn’t what I love. There’s so much about me that doesn’t fit, so I spent my whole life hiding it.”
“That sounds awful.”
“It was.” Cait looks off into the distance, deep in thought, probably remembering her life before Peripeteia.
“I was twenty-four, a virgin, and had no interest in marrying any of the bachelors my parents tossed my way before I wound up here. My mom was over at my place all the time, inspecting it for any sign of promiscuity or unfeminine behavior. Even out of her house, I couldn’t get away with gaming. ”
“Then, how did you wind up here?” I ask.
“One of my brothers,” Cait says with a playful smirk.
“Elijah is only a year older than me, so it’s felt like we were almost twins our whole lives.
With him, I never feel like I have to pretend.
So, when he got an invitation to beta test Legends of Sacrifice, he let me play it at his place.
” The affection on her face and tone shifts in a melancholy direction.
“I wonder what he’s up to now. I wonder if he misses me. ”
Until now, I haven’t wanted to open up to anyone about Mom, but Cait’s being vulnerable with me. I decide to do the same for her.
“I miss my mom,” I tell her. “She’s the only person I really feel close to. Because I have social anxiety, I don’t really go out there making friends. But Mom? She and I would do all sorts of fun stuff together. Well, we used to…”
“Used to?” Cait asks.
I nod, and to my frustration, a hot tear trails down my near-frozen cheek.
“Right before I wound up here, she had a stroke. Apparently she’d had a lot of them, and…
now she’s in a hospice.” I shake my head, wipe away my tear, and offer Cait what I hope looks like a genuine smile. “Anyway, we need to get ready to go.”
I move to get up, but Cait grabs my wrist. “Lauren, I—”
“Breakfast’s ready!” Sylvia calls out.
Tilting my head toward the campfire, I say, “Food first, chitchat when we’re traveling and bored out of our minds.”
With a nod, Cait gets on her feet, and we walk together. I see Guy there, his eyes lit with appreciation as I draw near. I feel a twinge of guilt. He’s so all in with me, but Cait’s the one I finally revealed my deepest pain to.
Guy pats the space next to him by the fire. “I’ve got your bowl,” he says, holding it up for me to grab as I sit down.
I take it with gratitude and dig right in the moment my bottom touches the ground. Sylvia’s mixed some honey and cream into whatever these grains are. It’s…delicious? Honestly, I thought this was going to be bland, but it’s hardly a chore to eat.
Within a minute, I’ve slurped the whole thing down. I consider going for a second bowl, but I’m already quite full. If I eat any more, I’ll be groggy and uncomfortable all day.
“We need to wrap this up,” Tara says, tossing her bowl into the washing bucket. “We have to meet Dolius in two hours. It’s time to clean up, pack up, and head out of here.”
Everyone nods and murmurs in agreement, and we all set about getting ready to leave.
Once I hand Tara my bowl, I head into the tent. I let out a long sigh of relief. It’s so perfectly warm in here, and I wish I didn’t have to leave.
I roll up my sleeping pad and tap the button on my menu that will send it to whatever realm it lives in while we travel. As I do so, Guy enters behind me and strokes my back. I startle at his touch.
“Whoa, everything okay?” he asks.
I catch my breath and say, “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
Guy crouches next to me. “I was hoping we could get a moment alone.”
“We don’t have time,” I tell him. “Like Tara said, we need to hurry and get to Dolius.”
“Just a second,” Guy insists. “Just long enough to—”
Joshua comes stomping in, grumbling under his breath. He rolls up his bedding and shoves his personal items in a bag.
“Do you need help?” I ask.
“I need someone to take the stick out of Cait’s ass,” Joshua answers. “All I said was that I like what the cold does to…” He trails off, his eyes widening with realization. “Never mind.”
“Does to what?” I ask.
Guy stands and crosses his arms. “Yeah, Joshua, does to what?”
Cait walks in at that moment, takes a quick look at our faces, and asks me, “Did he tell you how much he likes how your nipples look in the cold?”
Mortified, I slap my arms over my chest in a flash. I hate this flimsy fabric.
Shaking his head, Guy says, “I wish I could say that I’m surprised, but this is getting predictable. You’re lucky I like you, man. If you ever talk about Lauren that way again, though—”
“I meant it in the most complimentary way!” Joshua protests. “I’m not gonna try to touch them or anything. How is this any different from saying her hair looks nice today?” He turns to me. “It does, by the way. You should wear it down more.”
“Enough!” Cait interjects. “Joshua, just don’t talk about our bodies, okay? That’s the best way to make sure no one’s mad at you.”
Joshua rolls his eyes, but says, “Fine.” Then he looks at Guy. “Can you help me take down the tent?”
Guy gives me a wistful look with his big puppy dog eyes. When I don’t respond to him, he nods at Joshua. “Sure.”
Cait and I leave the tent, and I’m slapped in the face with a bracing breeze.
Ugh, why?
I pull the cloak tight, but it’s not enough. My cleric chiton might as well be tissue paper, but if I wear anything else, my healer stats will drop dramatically. No one designed this game with the player’s comfort in mind because we’re supposed to be in the comfort of our own homes.
“You’re miserable,” Cait says in a tone so warm that I wish I could feel it, not just hear it.
“It’s not fair,” I say. “Everyone else gets to wear real clothes.”
Cait taps her chin. “Hold on,” she says. “Let me look through my inventory.”
I watch her scroll through the menu that’s only visible to her. Her face lights up when she spots whatever she’s looking for. A heart-shaped locket appears in her hands.
“Put this on,” she says, holding it out. “Ares gave it to me forever ago.”
“What is it?”
“The Heart of Ares,” she says. “It apparently holds a flicker of the love he feels for Aphrodite. It used to give me a boost to my Courage skill, but that skill was strong enough on its own, and I found a strength boosting collar. Anyway, the flame keeps the locket warm, and I bet it will create a sort of heat bubble under your cloak.”
I reach for the locket and feel the heat radiating from it before I even touch it. My frozen fingers fumble with the clasp.
“Here,” Cait says.