Arc 1

  [Arrival]

  Death was a reality all adventures were familiar with. In a profession that revolved around slaying monsters, fighting criminals, and stopping evil forces from encroaching into the realm, it was safe to say that a long life was never certain.

  Yet Justus couldn’t help but feel cheated. After dozens of quarters spent doing low-level fetch quests and escort jobs, he had finally taken a job that offered a worthwhile reward.

  Of course, the job had gone wrong.

  He was supposed to go in and clear out some deranged giant rats that had been spotted in the sewers. Easy. Go in, blast a couple rat bastards, and get the best paycheck he’d had in cycles.

  Except they weren’t deranged rats, like the job had said. They were undead rats. And they were being controlled by a godsdamned lich.

  A sewer lich. That’s how Justus would be remembered: the amateur adventurer who got killed in a sewer. No, it was worse; he’d be remembered as the shambling corpse the real adventures would cut through before killing their actual target: a fucking sewer lich.

  He was laying supine on the sewer’s damp stone floor, just a foot from the flowing sewage stream. As the necrotic paralysis set in, a horrible scraping filled his mind. It distracted him from the sounds of the rats chittering as they closed in on him. He tried using a skill, but nothing happened.

  Justus recalled the many warnings his mentor had given him throughout his training. Don’t work alone. Stay in a party. Never assume a job was as simple as it seemed. Always have an out. Run the moment you noticed those rats you were slicing open seemed oddly fine with it, especially if there wasn’t any blood. He actually hadn’t been told that last bit of advice, but maybe if his mentor had bothered to mention it he might have seen the warning signs and gotten out of here before it was too late.

  Dozens of small teeth began pulling and tearing through his leather armor. Little shits. He’d saved up for nearly thirty quarters to afford that armor. Some of the rodents found softer spots and tore through cloth before digging into his flesh. He couldn’t lift a finger to stop them.

  It didn’t hurt. The paralysis must have been numbing the pain. It sorta tickled. Justus wasn’t sure, since he’d never been eaten alive by rats before, but the lack of pain might have made it worse. There was a surreal disconnect between what he felt and what he knew was happening that really slammed the experience straight into a whole new level of messed up.

  He was glad that the lich’s initial attack blew out his lantern. Feeling dozens of rats gnashing at his numbed and paralyzed body was disturbing enough. Seeing it would have made it much worse. He wished the paralysis had taken out his sense of smell as well. A metallic scent began to mix with the rancid stench of the sewer.

  As the blood-soaked tickling continued, he summoned his status screen. Thankfully, the display appeared in his sight. It gave off no glow, but was bright and clearly visible to him. It was flashing red. He watched as the bar representing his health began shrinking.

  He wasn’t screwed yet. He hadn’t entirely ignored all the advice his mentor had given him. He mentally opened his inventory, scrolling through his supplies and items. The inventory was full of items he’d hoarded over the cycles. Most belonged to him, but not all. The rest wasn’t stolen per se. He preferred calling them spontaneously acquired. Finders keepers was a philosophy he lived by. If people wanted to keep their things, they shouldn’t leave them lying around for anyone to take.

  He found the item he was looking for: a sending stone. It was one of the more expensive items he had spontaneously acquired. He hated to use it, but he doubted there would ever be a better time. The lich’s paralysis prevented him from using skills, but not items. The items weren't part of his Spirit, so they hadn't been hit by the effect.

  He activated the item from his inventory. He saw a dim green glow in the corner of his vision, coming from his armband. He waited. And waited. Nothing happened.

  Another smaller display appeared, closer to him than the main display. Justus didn’t need to read the new display to see what it said, but given he only had a minute of life left at best, he decided to read it anyway. Maybe it would surprise him and be a good thing.

  It wasn’t a good thing. The display was a simple notification, telling him what he already knew.

  Item [Sending Stone] failed to activate

  Cause: [Spirit Interference]

  Beginner’s Tip!

  Try using this item in an area with less Spiritual Interference!

  Well, he’d given it a shot at least. No one could say Justus, Jade ranked adventurer, didn’t go out without a struggle. He’d have preferred if no one could say he didn't go out without a fight, but he’d take what he could get.

  The scraping in his mind got stronger. He grit his teeth against the pain.

  It wasn’t really scraping, or in his mind. It was his spirit being overwhelmed by a powerful Spirit aura. The "feeling" of the aura was different depending on the Spirit. Some were pleasant and others were intimidating. The lich's felt like splintered bones scraping against his very core. It was a spirit of death: antithetical to life itself.

  The tickling stopped. He’d nearly forgotten about the rats. Was he finally dead? He didn’t feel dead. His spirit still screamed from the Lich’s aura. But feeling dead would be a novel experience to him, so maybe this is what it felt like. It was death aura, after all.

  A green light shone in the sewer. Justus saw the large rats circled around him, their dark, tiny eyes reflected in the light. He was still alive, it seemed. That likely wouldn’t be the case much longer.

  Unable to move his head, he could only watch as the stones in the ceiling were lit by the sickly green light that slowly grew closer.

  The lich hovered into his field of view headfirst. The undead Spirit Artist floated prone in the air, hovering toward him until they were face-to-face. It was creepy as shit. A decrepit hand coiled out from the cloak it was wearing and lowered to his face, cupping his cheek in a disturbingly tender way.

  He should have been horrified. In fact, now that he thought about it, his thoughts had been sporadic ever since the lich appeared and blasted him to the ground. A side effect of whatever skill the lich had hit him with? Maybe Justus was freaking out on some subconscious level, but the paralysis was keeping him from consciously feeling the effects of his terror. It certainly kept him from feeling like he was being eaten alive. At least there was that small blessing.

  Pain exploded through his body. He tried to scream, only managing a small wheeze. It felt like his bones were being ignited inside of him and his skin was being stretched until it ripped off.

  A corrupting energy that matched the lich's pale verdant glow was pouring off the lich’s hands and seeping into his flesh, causing his body to light up as if he was an undead glowstick. Was it infecting him with its Spirit? Was this how it would turn him into some sort of zombified thrall?

  Justus wasn’t sure how long the pain lasted. It might have been seconds or minutes. It ended all the same. He felt the pain being ripped away from him, or maybe he was ripped away from it. He couldn’t tell. A flash of gold and green blinded him as the pain vanished.

  His vision went black, and he felt the weightless sensation of falling.

  ****

  Katherine knew she shouldn’t have skipped school. She’d already missed a couple days in the past few weeks, and the last thing she wanted was for the school to call her parents. If they found out she’d been ditching, they’d assume the worst. Her mother would, at least. She could already hear the lecture about drugs and bad crowds or whatever worse-case-scenario her mom would dream up to worry about.

  Katherine wished she was doing drugs. That sounded like something cool kids would do. No, she was skipping school because she enjoyed being out in the rain. It was the smell of the wet dirt and clean air, the quiet of the city and birds, and the way even the sun decided to take a break for the day. A simple change of scenery and a bit of moisture in the air, and suddenly the world was less crowded, less loud.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  A rain storm had moved in and settled over the town for the past few days. She wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. Rainy days didn’t come often here.

  The park wasn’t the largest or nicest in Parton City, but it was close to her school. She probably would have chosen it anyway. While Parton Park was much larger, it was also busier and farther away. Even during a rainy day there would be people hanging around doing something. But Emmeret Park was known as a popular hangout spot for students of Kellend High, so naturally adults tended to avoid it. Which made it perfect for what Katherine was looking for: peace and quiet.

  Ripples cascaded across the surface of the park’s lake. The ripples clashed together, creating patterns of smaller and larger waves where they collided and amplified one another. The waves were short and brief, existing only for a few moments. Yet there were so many, the surface of the lake was always alive with the motion of their tiny moments. Katherine watched from a bench near the shore, having taken a short break from her book to simply enjoy the weather.

  She looked down at her book. It wasn’t an actual paper book, of course; she’d never get one of her books wet. The tree her bench sat under provided decent cover from the rain, but the onset of fall was showing its effects on the old tree, and there weren’t nearly enough leaves left to protect her from getting wet. Instead of a real book, she’d brought her Kindle. Her parents bought her a newer model—one that was water resistant—for Christmas last year, and she had been taking full advantage of it the past few days.

  With a deep sigh, she leaned back into the bench, not caring about its wet surface. She’d been out here for nearly eight hours. She was starting to get hungry, but that didn’t bother her. What did bother her was knowing that she’d have to head back home soon, with the lingering worry that this was the time her parents would get a call from school.

  A loud thud and crack sounded from behind her. Katherine jumped up and screamed. The irrational fear that some animal or crazy homeless person had snuck up on her and was about to strike flew through her head. She spun, backing away from the sound.

  Nothing was there. Only the tall tree and bushes. One of the bushes shifted. She heard something over the sound of soft rain. A groan? It sounded like a person, and they didn’t seem aggressive or crazy. It sounded like they were in pain. A second groan, louder and longer than the first, confirmed her thoughts. They were definitely in pain.

  “Hello?” she called, leaning forward on her toes to try and see who was there. She hadn’t completely ruled out her crazy homeless person theory yet. “Who’s there?”

  The bush shook some more, then a hand came out, flinging around as if looking for something to grab.

  “Hello?” a strained male voice called from inside the tangle of branches. “Can I get some help?”

  The voice sounded young. Not a kid, but not a fully grown man either. Was it another student? Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had decided to ditch class today. And what was that accent? She couldn’t place it.

  Katherine hesitated a moment. What was a student doing out here during a school day? Was she about to get herself involved with some pothead delinquent? Or… maybe they had just been out enjoying the rainy day? That had been what she was doing, after all. Though she didn’t go around falling into bushes while doing it.

  “Are you okay?” she asked the boy in the bush, still uncertain about getting closer. She wanted to establish a little bit more of a rapport with the stranger before committing to anything. Besides, she wouldn’t be leaving him to die. He was stuck in a bush. Hardly a life or death situation.

  “I think so. I don’t feel like I’m dead, so that’s a good sign, right?” the stranger said.

  Katherine supposed it was. She looked up at the tree, finally questioning just how high he must have fallen. It was a pretty tall tree. She looked back to the hand sticking from the bush. It was dangling limply, no longer waving around.

  “Were you up there all this time?”

  There was a long pause from the bush.

  “Yes…?” he replied.

  The answer wasn’t reassuring. It sounded confused, as if he wasn’t sure what he’d been doing before falling into a bush.

  “Did you hit your head?” she asked.

  She began to get worried. If this was another student, and he’d gotten hurt, she’d have to get help. That meant going to the school, which meant explaining why she wasn’t at school, which meant she’d be caught having ditched school. Then they’d probably call her parents and tell them she’d been ditching with this boy she didn’t even know, and then her parents would assume she was cutting classes to go fraternizing with boys. Her worry began edging toward panic.

  “I think I hit a bit of everything,” the stranger said, “but I’ll be fine. Once I get out of this bush. Which I would appreciate some help with, in case you needed a reminder.” His hand waved, drawing attention back to his situation. “It’s not very comfortable in here.”

  “Oh, right, sorry.”

  With her worry assuaged, she stepped forward and grabbed the hand. She pulled, but she only succeeded in shaking the bush. He really was stuck. She pulled harder, planting her feet in the wet, muddy grass and using her weight to help pull.

  After a few good yanks, something in the bush gave and the stranger started emerging from the green leaves. Her eyes widened as she realized the boy wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was also in very good shape. He looked like some kind of professional athlete. He started pulling himself out with his newly-freed hand. Once they’d pulled him out to his waist—which she definitely had not been looking at—she shrieked and let him go. He was missing more than a shirt. She turned around, feeling a blush creeping up her neck.

  “Why are you naked?” she asked, her voice shrill. “Are you some kind of pervert?”

  “Uh… no…” the stranger said from behind her. Again he spoke in a way that wasn’t convincing at all, as if he wasn’t sure about anything. Maybe he was a pothead after all. She heard more rustling from the bush. “My clothes must have got caught on something. Give me a moment.”

  She heard more rusting behind her. Part of her wanted to keep an eye on the stranger. What if he was some dangerous pervert? He didn’t seem like one, though. He’d been nice enough so far. Just weird.

  “Alright, I’m good,” the stranger said.

  She turned around. He was standing there, dusting off his pants. They were… odd looking. She wasn’t sure how else to describe them. Calling them pants didn’t seem to fit. Trousers seemed more appropriate. They were brown and baggy, made of some thick material she couldn’t name. They clung tightly at his mid-calf. He was barefoot. Had his shoes been caught on something too? And his socks? He must not have been wearing any before.

  The beige shirt he wore also looked strange. The stitching seemed hand-sewn, and the shirt sported an old fashioned tied v-neck. He was dressed like someone attempting to look casual at a renaissance fair. Stranger still, the clothes didn’t seem dirty or wet at all.

  “What are you wearing?” the man asked.

  She looked up from his clothes, confused. She saw a similar confusion on his face. His blue eyes were topped by light colored eyebrows, and his face was one she could only describe as ruggedly handsome. Not her type, but undeniably attractive. His strong chin was set onto his equally prominent jawline. His nose looked like it had been broken years ago, but healed well. His hair was short and sandy blonde, though it was beginning to look brown as it became wet from rain. Why hadn’t it been wet before? Maybe he'd been under a particularly dense part of the tree's leaves.

  She noticed she’d been staring and felt her blush return. What did he ask her? Right, her clothes.

  “It’s just a hoodie?” she said. “Are you sure you’re okay? What are you wearing?”

  The young man looked down at himself. “Clothes,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I’m fine.”

  He looked up past her. She followed his gaze to one of the high-rise buildings near the park. His confusion seemed to grow as he slowly took in the skyline of the city around them.

  “Where are we?” he asked.

  “Emmeret Park.”

  “Ah. And that’s where exactly?”

  “Parton?” she answered. When the man still seemed confused, she added: “Virginia? Are you sure you don’t have some kind of head trauma?”

  He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. He looked off to the side, and his eyes seemed to focus on something in front of him. She thought he might have seen a bug or something, but there was nothing there. Yet he stared intently all the same, his eyes scanning the air and growing concerned.

  “Well, thanks for the help, but I have to get going. I’m, uh, late for something.”

  “What? Bu—” Katherine was cut off as he bolted. She watched, baffled, as he sprinted across the wet grass. She looked back up at the tree, then down at the bush, as if his strange behavior could be gleaned from them. A glimmer of green in the mud caught her eye. Her eyes widened. She looked back up to the direction where the stranger had left.

  “Wait! You forgot…” She trailed off. He was gone. Did he dart off in a different direction? She didn’t see him anywhere.

  “What in the world?” she muttered to herself.

  She shook her head, then looked back to the object on the ground. She retrieved it from the mud and wiped it off with her sleeve.

  She knew it must be a fake—a replica. But when she picked it up, it felt solid. Something about it felt real. It was an emerald. Not only that, but it was huge, at least an inch and a half wide. The gem was cut intricately, in a way that bent the gloomy overcast light in a beautifully chaotic way. The shape was unlike any she’d ever seen. It was oddly reminiscent of one of those oddly shaped dice used in board games. She could only imagine how stunning it would look in full sunlight.

  She debated leaving it under the bush for all of half a second. No way. If this was a genuine emerald, it was more expensive than anything she’d ever held before. She had to find the stranger and get it back to him. But she had no clue where he went.

  He would be a student at Kellend, right? He looked her age, but she didn’t recognize him. It wasn’t as if she knew every single student, but she thought she’d remember someone like him. How was she going to find him? She didn’t even know his name.

  She slipped the gem into her hoodie’s pocket, and looked back at the bench. Maybe she should stay here and wait for the guy to come back. But if she did, she’d be late, then her mother would freak out.

  Keeping one hand tight on the gem in her pocket and the other on her Kindle, she started to walk home. She’d keep it safe for him for now. She paused, and brought the stone back out of her hoodie. That was strange. At the corner of her vision, she thought she’d seen something glow from within the pocket.