Chapter 24 Things Get Very Real
We followed Sen-ti through the cavern, and the other Wildings just gave us nods and gentle smiles. But as we wound through the apartments and houses in the massive underground world, I noticed that all of the creatures seemed somber, as though they were under some sort of gloom spell.
“Are they okay?” I asked.
Sen-ti let out a sigh. “They’re worried.
I told you, a foe has entered our forest and when we go out to gather our food, the enemy picks us off.
The Elders have deemed it necessary to seek outside help.
When I saw you, I knew you were trustworthy.
No Elf travels with those who would desecrate the sacred land. ”
I felt bad for deceiving him, because he had no clue that he was in a game and that I wasn’t really an Elf. But then again, game or not, we could die in here and that made things very real. “You can rest assured we aren’t going to harm you.”
He stopped before a simple one-story building. “The Elders are here. They’re waiting for us.” He paused, then added, “Thank you, again, for agreeing to hear us out.”
“How do we address the Council?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Sen-ti asked, looking confused.
“I mean, is there anything we should say or do to show our respect?”
Sen-ti looked at me for a moment, then shook his head. “I’m not sure what you mean. They’ll be grateful to talk to you.”
It was then that it really hit home. The Wildings were a race based in respect and grounding. There wouldn’t be any problems of should we bow, or what not to say so we don’t insult them or are they going to be so arrogant we can’t work with them. Because the Wildings were truly humble beings.
Sen-ti led us into the building, into the main room.
It was dimly lit, but the light was warm and welcoming, and I instantly felt at ease.
I let out a soft breath, relaxing. There was some sort of background music, a low hum that rippled through me like a calming heartbeat, a slow rhythm that felt steady as the world itself.
A group of seven Wildings sat around a hole in the ground in which a campfire crackled. The warmth filled the room. Combined with the music, it enshrouded us in a soothing, muffled energy.
“Please sit,” Sen-ti said, motioning to a couple of logs on the floor near the fire, facing the semicircle of Wildings.
We took our seats and waited.
The group of Wildings looked ancient—old beyond years.
Their skin looked leathery, almost lignified, and here and there a knot or burl against their ancient faces reminded me of the burls on trees.
Each Wilding looked different, but there were similarities.
Some were short, some tall, some fat and some thin.
But they all had a similar countenance, and they all felt connected to each other.
They were part of a vast family, I thought, a family made of heart and spirit rather than blood.
Sen-ti spoke to the others in a language I didn’t understand, and yet it felt familiar—like whispering on the wind. I thought I might catch what they were talking about, if I listened long enough. After a moment, the Wilding who looked the eldest turned to me.
When she spoke, her voice was that of rustling, dried leaves crackling in the wind.
“Welcome, good folk. Sen-ti has vouched for your behavior. We trust him, and therefore, we trust you. Has he told you what we are looking for?”
Startled—I had thought they were all men—I shook my head. But then, as I looked closer, I saw a few telltale signs that she was female. She had breasts—old and drooping, but they were still breasts nonetheless—and she had hair done up in a bun, the color of red clay.
“He said you have a foe who is causing havoc?” I asked. I was pretty sure that she was addressing all of us.
“We have an enemy come to the forest. He’s killed several of our people already. We cannot stand against him. He’s too strong for us. He means to wipe out our encampment.” Her voice was tinged with sadness and loss.
My heart immediately went out to them. They weren’t fighters. They were avatars of nature, who simply wanted to go about their lives. “Do you know what he is? What kind of being?”
“He’s a Forest Troll. Or a giant. Or perhaps, both,” she said. “We are seeking help. We know we can’t stop him ourselves. We cannot fight. We bend to the will of fate, but if fate decides to offer us help, we accept unless the help goes against our beliefs.”
Interesting. A pacifistic race who was willing to let others fight for them.
Were they true pacifists, then? Or were they unable to fight for themselves for a different reason.
The former seemed hypocritical, but the latter, I understood.
Not everyone could stand up for themselves.
Not everyone had the capacity to physically defend themselves.
“May I ask something?” I tried to think of the politest way to frame the question. “Are you unable to fight?”
Sen-ti turned to me. “We simply cannot fight. We carry the will of time. If you were to use your dagger on me, I would not be able to fight you off. I could lift my arms to deflect, but I couldn’t strike out at you. It’s not our nature.”
“I see,” I said. The game developers had created a race at the mercy of others.
Perhaps to test the players? Whatever their reasoning, it made me angry at them—the devs, not the Wildings.
To deliberately create a race of beings who were victims by their very nature seemed so cruel that it made me want to picket their offices… if we ever got out of here.
“We’ll do what we can,” Reggie said. The look on his face matched my own feelings. In fact, I suspected that every one of us was seething right now.
“I’m afraid we can’t give you much of a reward,” the Elder said. “Except our gratitude and blessing.”
“That’s plenty. We’ll do everything we can to help,” I said. “But we need to know where to find the Forest Troll.”
“I’ll take you,” Sen-ti said. “I am a Connector. I connect our people with the outside world.”
“Then, I suppose we’d best be off,” I said. “Let’s go.”
As Sen-ti led us out of the portal, into the woods, I was beginning to realize just how complex the world of Abarria was.
It was no simple set of stats and rules on paper.
Whether or not they knew it, the creators of the game had also created a sophisticated, multifaceted world, and Syms or not, their characters had become very real.