Fragments (Somnia Online Book 3), page 17
Upon closer inspection, it appeared the fountain was made out of petrified wood. Murmur frowned as she took in all the elves dancing around it. Or at least, they appeared to be dancing at first. In fact, their movements flowed so easily into one another that the fighter, rogue, archer, and mage appeared to execute a dance as she circled the structure. Water streamed, gently pumped through arrows, fingers, swords, and daggers.
It was the most beautiful of the fountains she’d seen so far.
Once close to the feles, the elves knew how to perform magic through movement. You are correct! This fountain shows a classic beauty that neither race have remembered, the lost art of movement magic. Take heed, as you know the fountains are connected, and remember ancient times, in ancient places, where they may be discovered again.
Murmur blinked. Twice. Cryptic had to be a god of the game.
“I take it you like the fountain then?” Lideshu stood next to her, his slimy grin plastered on his face as he focused on the fountain and not her. Movement around them had crawled to a standstill, and while none of the elves looked directly at them, she could feel the weight of all their attention crawling up her spine. None of them appeared to be talking and it added to the stifling atmosphere.
“It’s lovely. Just like the rest of them.” She left that there trying to pass off her interest in the fountains as a purely touristy sort of thing, and walked over to Devlish, who, if the way he held his shoulders was anything to go by, was feeling just as uncomfortable as she was.
He glanced at her, shifting his weight slightly and laid a hand on the hilt of his axe. “I think we need to get moving or we’ll never find those ancient ruins. At this rate we’ll be traveling through the dark world anyway.”
“Surely you don’t want to leave so soon?” Lideshu’s tone sounded like he wanted nothing but for them to leave, and yet, phrasing it that way leant a sinister edge to the undertones, making Murmur want to get away even more. There was definitely something missing here.
The whole forest was quiet. Not even a cricket chirped. No birds sang, and even the wind seemed to have stopped blowing and rustling the leaves. Still, and silent. Dangerous.
“We don’t want to, but we have to be on our way.” She phrased it as tactfully as she could manage, trying her best to express disappointment with her expression and hoped it worked. It was all she could do to fight down her inclination to flee.
“Ah,” the elf said, inclining his head. “Such a pity you won’t join us for dinner. But we understand, of course.”
Murmur shuddered as she nodded, reading what he didn’t say that lay underneath the words. If they stayed here, there was no guarantee of safety whatsoever. Lideshu’s eyes shone with a hungry light, and for a moment she wondered what he meant by dinner. Too many theories popped up in her mind, all of them terrible, all of them potentially real. “Terribly sorry to sightsee and run. We’ll be back, though.”
She meant it, even if she could tell with one glance that none of her friends were inclined to return, Murmur would need to figure out what was so off about this place. Devlish wasn’t comfortable, and even the skin around Merlin’s eyes and mouth were tight, and he caught her eye, trying to convey something to her as well. It seemed everyone agreed, and her sensor net picked up overwhelming unease. Supplies be damned, it had only been an excuse to stop there anyway. She had enough food cooked for them in her bags to whether the road. She’d thought coming to the elven city was going to be a way to relax and take in some of the beauty.
But while it was beautiful to look at, the attractiveness only ran skin deep. Beneath the ivy laced streets of Cognitia lay something Murmur wasn’t quite ready to tackle yet.
Summer Residence
Home of Laria, David, and Wren
Summer Condo
Day Thirteen Post Release
“I don’t really care that you think this is all your fault.” David started, his tone like the one Laria knew he used with students who tried to beg a better grade. “You need to stop acting like you’re in this alone and consult me. Damn it Laria, she’s our daughter not just yours.”
Laria cringed at his words, knowing he was right and yet the guilt still gnawed at her far more than she believed it did him. “But you didn’t push to get an early headset. You didn’t walk up to the insane genius man and inadvertently ask him to make your daughter into a secret guinea pig. I did that. It’s all on me.”
“But we both checked the headgear, and even though it had a few anomalies, neither of us thought they were severe enough to produce what they did. Stop dredging it up and running around in circles with it so we can focus on fixing the issue.” It infuriated her how calm he could keep his voice; how reasonable he remained no matter how heated she got. How was he always the one holding it together, while she could barely function outside of her head?
“I know,” she finally admitted, her shoulders slumping as she leaned forward on the table, arms outstretched. It was so much quieter in their condo without Wren. Even thought she’d have been playing the game non-stop, she still would have been in here on occasion. Raiding the fridge, eating every apple in existence. “I know it, David. I just don’t like it.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, reminding her of when they first met in person, so many years ago. He’d been a young and idealistic IT major, and she’d loved that about him. His theories on how to maximize game time and push their characters had made her giddy to know him.
“If you liked it, I’d be even more worried about you than I am now. You need to sleep. This pattern of behavior you’re exhibiting is bad for your health, and if you get sick, how are we going to get Wren back. Think beyond just the now, Laria, I know you’re capable of it.” He reached out to take her hands in his, squeezing them gently and filling her with a warmth only he knew how to give. “You’ve got to stop this me-against-the-world mentality and grow up. You’ve got your dream job and your dream game. Sure, there may be a few hiccups, but you can’t sit and throw a tantrum and just push through it and hope for the best. You need to think, to develop a strategy. You need to stop adulting like you game.”
Laria’s first reaction was anger, and she tried to snatch her hands away, but David held on fast. She scowled at him, angry at his words, but after a couple of moments she realized it wasn’t just his words she was angry at, but the truth in them. He was fucking right. Yet again. Like always. Her calm, stoic, amazing husband always knew just how to get to the heart of the matter. Laria was, in fact, treating this somewhat like a game. Because Wren was stuck in a game. And if there’s one thing Laria had always been good at, it was being the best gamer she could be.
Taking in a deep breath, she nodded. “Fine. Fuck you too. I’ll sit down and make a plan instead of going in guns blazing.”
“Axes wielded?” He laughed, and she watched as relief ironed out the wrinkles that had formed at the edges of his eyes. She’d worried him, like always.
“Sorry.” She whispered the words, knowing that she apologized to him on a regular basis, that she was always having to say she was sorry. Every day she waited, without quite realizing it, for him to realize he’d married a lunatic and leave her. But he never did. Instead, he sat with her through thick and thin, made her rash mind think things through when she’d rather attack them head on.
“It’s what I’m here for, remember? Got to save my tank.” The past dripped from his reminiscent tone, and Laria leaned into his shoulder.
“Even now you’re still saving me, still saving us. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Her only answer was a tight squeeze of her shoulders, and she knew, clear as day, that he felt the same way.
Storm Entertainment
Somnia Online Division
Game Development Offices - Shayla Johnson’s Office
Day Thirteen Post Release
Shayla grumbled at her desk; leafing through report after report was driving her insane. The thing was, James always seemed to be close at hand. More so than he’d been before the game launched, or in the few days after. It was either because he was genuinely worried about her, or he was trying to find something. Frankly, being who she was, Shayla believed it was the latter.
Gearing up for their new type of reports, Shayla couldn’t concentrate on her work. With so many irons in the fire right now, her head was doing her in. The AIs exhibited signs of sentience; her lead developer had gone slightly rogue and whisked her daughter into a containment pod so she could keep her brain active while she was playing.
The urge to laugh was great, but Shayla knew the sound would ring crazed. It was probably better not to laugh hysterically in her office.
“Do you need anything, Shayla?”
James’s voice ripped her out of her thoughts and almost sent her jumping three feet into the air. Barely managing to compose herself in time, like almost every time he unexpectedly interrupted her, she turned to face him, her smile fixed in place. “Not at all. I’ll send for you if I do, you should know that.”
He definitely wasn’t the quiet and unassuming assistant Ava had been. He didn’t have all the reports ready to go and at her fingertips when she didn’t even know she needed them. Worst of all, he didn’t seem to understand the meaning of alone time. Or at least, he didn’t in the last week or so.
Shayla frowned, swiveling toward her door to watch anyone passing by outside. The blinds were drawn, lending her some amount of privacy at least. James hadn’t been this clingy in the first couple of weeks he’d assisted her. So, what had changed?
Several days into launch, she’d brought some sensitive information up with Teddy. Did he have something to do with her new bestest buddy? She really hoped not, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized he probably did. The promise of promotions could do a lot to a person.
“Make sure you knock next time. Might help me not jump out of my skin.”
“Of course!” James smiled, but if she wasn’t mistaken, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead, that gaze was coldly calculating, a complete juxtaposition to his tone of voice.
She forced her own smile. Two could play at that game. “Excellent. I’m glad we had that little talk. Make sure to email me all the files you’re working on so late at night. I’ll expect them in five minutes. And make sure you close my door behind you.”
She turned away, but not before she saw an irritated shadow pass over James’s expression. The door clicked, and she counted to five before she allowed some of the tension to leak out from her shoulders.
Just what did Teddy suspect, and how much did he know? She needed to be more careful around James until she figured out just what was up. His behavior wasn’t even that subtle. Staying as late as he had been wasn’t a part of his job description. In fact, it wasn’t part of hers either. She doubted he was staying so late just to show his dedication. Her eyes strayed to watch her inbox, waiting for the email she’d demanded.
After a minute of watching that seemed like an eternity, the email dinged that she had a new message from James with several attachments. Shayla opened them for good measure, triple checking because she couldn’t shake the unease. On the surface everything seemed legit, but she’d check with Laria in the morning to make sure they still needed the info he was working on.
Maybe she was just seeing ghosts around every corner now.
They barely spoke as they mounted up and headed out from the creepy elven city. Murmur could feel the sensation of being watched like it was over head as a neon eye sign, flashing an arrow at their whole group. From the way their gear camouflaged with the forest surroundings, she was quite certain elves were all around them, just waiting to prevent them from returning to the tree-top city.
She shivered as her skin crawled. Locus didn’t seem to have body hair like most of the species in the game, but she could feel the same sensation through to the skin, like her real body was reacting to the game. Sinister rode next to her, and even her Synthclaw appeared unsettled, tossing its head and snorting wildly at the air, its eyes slightly haunted. Snowy nudged the beast with his shoulder, and it looked down at him, heaved what appeared to be a huge sigh, and its eyes cleared somewhat, returning the ride to the smooth one it had been previously.
Murmur slotted that away for use later on. Leaves rustled above her, and she made the mistake of glancing up to the top of the tree canopy, resplendent in the green glow that the sun gave to it. Her head spun, and she could see fleeting movement through the branches, but it moved so quickly all that resulted was a blurred image in her mind and the beginnings of a headache.
There was something really off with these elves, and Murmur heaved a huge sigh of relief when they finally broke the tree coverage and passed through the entrance to Cognitia at the tree line before the road. Immediately the weight on her back lifted, and she knew without a doubt that their observers had departed.
“Just as far as their borders, eh?” Havoc remarked softly. “Very interesting.”
“Annoying, creepy, stalkerish—I’d consider all of those before interesting.” Sinister clenched her hands around the reins, her eyes staring straight ahead. She looked a little pale, and Murmur reached out a hand to brush her knee, trying to lend some reassurance.
The blood mage smiled wanly, and the group continued in silence until they reached the actual path.
“Don’t know about you guys,” Devlish called back over his shoulder, “but I’m not feeling overly fond of trees right now, so I’m going to stay on the left side of the path, as close to the Felling Fields as I can.”
No one argued; no one else spoke. Murmur could feel the unease still present, even if it was less than before. She didn’t even need to have her sensor net activated for that. She glanced out to the left, noticing the cracked earth. The Felling Fields definitely didn’t look appealing. Having so much death so close to such teeming wildlife and fauna seemed laughably wrong. She wanted to know what the story behind it was, why the fissures in the earth ran so deep, why they seemed to move slightly.
Murmur blinked. “Did anyone else see that fissure up ahead move? Or was that just me?” She had to know if her head was spinning again. Maybe she needed to log out for more than a few hours. A full night’s sleep would be fantastic.
“I’m not sure.” Merlin squinted, and then lifted his hand to point up a ways ahead. “You mean that one, right? With the huge crack? The huge moving crack?”
“Fissure, Merlin,” Havoc mumbled absentmindedly, also squinting.
Dust began to billow up around it, and a few of the other fissures also seemed to trade places, moving inward, away from the huge one that was now just ahead of them and keeping pace.
“Have we not had enough water?” Rashlyn piped up, a nervous laugh underlying her words.
“No. I don’t believe that’s it.” Veranol grew pale, and Murmur had to agree with him.
“That’s not a mirage, I’m pretty sure that’s a monster, and it’s locked onto us, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s big.” Havoc shrugged. “Of course, that would be nothing new when it comes to our opponents here.”
Murmur wished she could take on his indifference, even if she knew it was how he hid emotions. The earth to the side of them suddenly veered sharply to its right, and emerged onto the path in front of them. Like an optical illusion as it leapt onto the path, the fissure appeared to simply spread from the fields and overflow.
The creature truly appeared to be a gaping maw in the middle of the road. The fissure on its back appeared to have jagged edges around it, which dripped sticky tar into its center. Red-brown like the earth of the Felling Fields, its feet were so many Murmur couldn’t count them all. But there had to be at least eight on each side as it raised itself up like a giant roly-poly with the fissure on its back instead of armor. Its real mouth appeared to be small, and it had tiny beady eyes, at least in comparison to the rest of it. She couldn’t judge its size that well, but it was around four horse lengths long.
Its roar was high pitched and focused on them so intensely that they had to cover their ears. It was clearly a challenge. Chi gripped onto Murmur’s hair strands, shaking.
Murmur bit her tongue against the impulse to note that they were lucky only one had approached them when it was clear that the other fissures were also home to these creatures. Sometimes she almost believed in Sinister’s superstitions too.
Devlish leapt off his lizard mount brandishing an axe and shield. “May as well get this over with,” he said with a gleam in his eyes.
Devlish’s axe was parried, yet again, by one of the Fissure’s stony front feet. Or maybe they were legs—Murmur wasn’t sure. Slowing it had been possible, but every time she attempted to cast Weakness she got a warning message.
Please note, the Fissure is impervious to weakening spells due to its unique composition. You can keep trying to weaken it, but it’s just a waste of mana.
She signed, and gave up trying on the third time. Sometimes she just wanted to out-stubborn the game. Instead, she made sure that the rest of the group was buffed. Being close to thirty-two, she almost wanted to pull one after the other until she dinged, but at the rate this fight was going, that was going to take forever. These mobs also did more damage to Devlish and Rash since they couldn’t be weakened.
The worst thing was, every thirty to forty-five seconds, without any further type of rhythm, the damned thing shook, and then somehow projected its boiling tar all over the group. Personal cooldowns only helped so much, and Ver and Sinister struggled to deal with the amount of AoE damage inflicted on the group. It didn’t help that its timer had nothing to do with damage suffered and seemed like a D20 roll, random as to its timing.
