Chapter 7
The sun shone down, the cool breeze fluttered the wet frizz framing my face, drying it. Real-world winter was a distinct contrast to the dark, overly warm theater where I had felt trapped. Tree branches swished, reaching up to the open sky.
I felt a sudden, irrational anger at my friends.
Lin had been so involved with her boyfriend that she hadn’t even asked why I kept shifting, or where I was going when I pressed past. And Charisse had made me stay in an uncomfortable situation for over an hour, so she could pretend to be a fairy.
It wasn’t like either of them had come to my PvP tourney.
I blamed RogueStriker, the jerk, for ruining my trust and patience in Lin and Charisse.
Climbing onto my faithful, accident-dented bike, I tightened my grip on the handlebars.
I knew logically it wasn’t them who had made me uncomfortable but my own reaction to Ni.
And that took me back to a few minutes earlier with him sitting inches from me in the darkness.
I shook my head like an Etch A Sketch to erase the thoughts and started pedaling.
I knew I was being ridiculous, but I needed some space.
My laptop, PJs, and a grape soda called to me—my comforts.
The stir of air and the rush of my heart pumping in my ears always got the endorphins flowing. By the time I got home, I knew I’d be in a better frame of mind.
Speaking of RogueStriker, I was going to kill that griefer.
Because of his defamation, except for that quick boss fight with IvoryKnight, I hadn’t played for several days, afraid of the reception I’d get.
Between that, the issues with Lin and Charisse, and my semester-end tests, it was a no wonder I was so stressed this week.
I couldn’t get why the online community would believe his lies, yet I couldn’t let him take this from me.
The chatter and calls of busy people living their own lives like the NPCs—non-playable characters of a game—overrode the whoosh of wind in my ears.
With the semester officially over and nothing left to study for, the urge to escape my IRL problems overwhelmed me.
On the sidewalk, a dad lifted a toddler onto his shoulders and laughed at his wife pushing a stroller as I rode past. Burning crept behind my nose.
My life used to be like that. Mom’s eyes had once shone with happiness as the three of us had played hide-and-seek and jumped through sprinklers together as a family.
In the last six months, though, the sparkle had faded, and lines had sprouted all along her eyes and mouth.
Between real-life problems and in-game problems, I’d rather focus on the latter.
Getting home before a breakdown combined with the promise of finally being alone and doing what I loved urged me to pedal faster. Despite my jacket, my nose and fingers tingled from the icy wind by the time I rode up to the familiar apartment building.
I jumped off my bike. Home at last. My internal walls began to crumble like the cement stairs I walked my bike up, leading into the dilapidated building.
My throat tightened, and I sniffed several times.
A chill ran through me. Dad had displaced Mom for Val so easily—swayed by looks and the excitement of the moment—over years of commitment.
The uncomfortable memories of the theater were too close.
I ruthlessly locked them out as I shut the apartment door behind me and my bike.
Inside, I tossed my keys onto the counter, grabbed a purple can from the fridge, and once safely ensconced in my room, ripped off my sweaty clothes before climbing into sweats.
Our heater banged along the walls, struggling to keep up with the inevitably dropping temperature outside that in the next few weeks would end in an icy precipitation.
I booted up my newly repaired laptop as I settled into my pillow and blanket-draped folding chair with a purple soda. A swig of artificial grape washed over my tongue and down my throat. I set the can down before reaching for my mouse.
My messages were full, and I swallowed. I hesitated over the “read messages” key, as if it might release a room full of special monsters.
The nasty messages I had encountered last time had compounded my dread over the last days like a boogeyman hiding under my bed.
It was the anticipation that was killing me.
I just needed to get it over with. I pulled in my stomach and pressed the button.
Rude comment. Rude comment. Someone asked me to stop playing the game.
I skimmed, and about a third of the way down, they changed.
The knot in my stomach loosened slightly.
There were several offers on the items I had for sale—real money trumped in-game money every time.
I responded to those and cleared out my inbox of all the nasty stuff.
The knot loosened more with each deletion.
Not everyone cared about what that griefer said. A new direct message popped up.
IvoryKnight: Want to join our group?
My face heated. I wasn’t sure how I felt about interacting with him after everything I had shared last time.
A request to chat appeared from IvoryKnight.
He wasn’t going to give up easily, and he could see I was online. I opened it, my chest a little tight.
IvoryKnight: You’re fast. We could use another fighter to complete the Shadows of Forgotten Lords quest. Wanna help?
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I wasn’t sure I was ready to join another group. Not after what had happened before...
IvoryKnight: The quest is to defeat each of the hidden bosses. You can have your choice of loot.
I did a quick search about the quest. It was a top-tier quest, meaning very rare bosses, which meant very rare and therefore expensive loot. Was he trying to bribe me?
ScarlettSaber: No. That’s not fair.
IvoryKnight: Then join our chat to ask the others.
I wavered. Even temporarily joining a group gave me palpitations after my previous experience.
But many quests were too big, even for me.
I scrolled through the discussion info about Shadows of Forgotten Lords.
This particular quest seemed to be impossible without a group.
Even though I’d just disparaged them in my mind, things were going pretty well with Lin and Charisse.
Maybe I could take a chance. After all, I’d opened up with IvoryKnight already...
My finger hovered over the mouse.
I clicked “join.” At least IvoryKnight wasn’t forcing me into voice chat. It seemed he had been getting his friends up to speed while I’d decided.
ShadowImp: What about a party rotation? What if we each get first dibs on loot at one of the fights?
I wanted to be fair, but would it give them the opportunity to exclude me if I shared my suggestion?
ScarlettSaber: The person voted MVP by the group gets first dibs.
VerdantArcher: But the person voted can’t be the same one voted the previous time. That way IK doesn’t get it every time.
IK must be IvoryKnight. I wouldn’t want to type it out every time either.
That seemed reasonable. Of course, they would want their share of the loot too, so maybe they were just thinking of themselves.
IK also seemed to be letting them make up their own minds, keeping quiet.
Or he was just AFK—away from keys—in the bathroom or getting a quick snack.
ShadowImp: Then we’d just end up rotating it through the party.
I thought about that as I took another sip.
ScarlettSaber: What if the second time anyone could be chosen that wasn’t chosen the previous time?
IvoryKnight: Clever. So, will you join?
That was the second time he had complimented me. I had felt like the rest of my old group had only tolerated me because RogueStriker wanted me on his team. Would this be the same situation? I couldn’t do that again.
ScarlettSaber: That depends on what ShadowImp and VerdantArcher want.
ShadowImp: We already discussed this after the tourney, and the decision was unanimous. You wrekt those early fights.
VerdantArcher: Yeah. Anyone who can make IK sweat is someone I want on my team.
Was he really that good? He had beaten me in the tourney. Living up to their expectations suddenly felt like an additional weight around my shoulders.
THE PROS AND CONS OF joining their group flitted through my head, banging around like a giant moth caught inside my headphones.
There was always the chance things could blow up, like with my previous group.
But if Lin and Charisse never spoke to me again for running off after the play, I guess I’d need something to fill the void.
Especially with winter break now officially started and no homework to demand my time.
Especially since most of the college deadlines were coming up by Christmas.
I’d already submitted to SCAD, but since that was a long shot, I needed to focus on closer and cheaper options.
And though I’d also been filling out scholarships as fast as I could find them, there was always a need for more.
Buzz had already scheduled me every day, but I still got off before dark—though the sun was setting earlier and earlier—and I now had a perfectly functioning laptop.
And with these higher-level quests, that meant higher-quality loot, which would pad my almost nonexistent college fund. So...
I pressed the button to join and accepted the quest.
IvoryKnight: Sending you the poem. The SOFL quest is to find and kill the hidden bosses, one at a time. Clues to their locations are concealed in each couplet.
ScarlettSaber: So we could finish the quest in a couple days?
IvoryKnight: I don’t think it will be that easy.