I dreamed of something vague and dreadful, before jolting awake to a numb feeling in my entire right arm. Hovering between sleep and wakefulness, I realized it was because Devi was lying on it. As much as I enjoyed her snuggling up to me, I found the numbness in my arm and her pair of pointed horns close to my face quite problematic. One of these days Devi was going to poke my eyes out in my sleep.
“I’ll buy you a separate bed, I swear,” I mumbled sleepily. I had to get away from her horns and get my arm out from under her … but perhaps I could do that after five more minutes of sleep. Yes, five minutes sounded right.
A pillow hit me in the face.
“Morning!”
I tried not to move, tried not to breathe. Perhaps if I played dead, she’d leave me alone.
“I’m going to pour water on your head if you don’t get up.”
“Go bother someone else,” I mumbled from beneath the pillow. Pouring water on me would have been a new level of evil. Surely, she wouldn’t descend so low? Right?
But even while half-asleep, I couldn’t fully convince myself—and so when I heard the telltale sound of pouring water, I jumped straight out of the bed and held the pillow above my head. Devi finished pouring herself a glass of water from the jug, then drank it slowly while maintaining eye-contact with me the entire time.
“Humph,” she said, setting down the empty glass with a tiny frown. “It was a bit stale.”
“Serves you right,” I said, lowering the pillow belatedly. I had been so fascinated by her power move that I hadn’t even realized I was holding it.
“Today is special training day,” Devi said as she made her way to her new wardrobe, shrugging off her nightgown.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” I replied, walking over to the kitchen to wash my face and stop my eyes from wandering. “What kind of special is it?”
“It’s surprise!” Devi said. “But it is fun, just wait and see.”
We got dressed quickly, and I managed to take a few bites out of the leftover dinner before Devi dragged me away from it. This time we used the central staircase to leave the building; Imaya had complained that the fire escape’s creaking and rattling woke her up every morning. She hadn’t been particularly understanding when I told her that I was getting woken up against my will too.
We caught a streetcar pulled by two ostrich-like creatures, and I leaned out of the car to watch them. The morning sun hit their metallic plating in just the right angle, and even while pulling a line of cars their movements looked graceful. Tora had explained to me recently that it wasn’t actually simple golems pulling the streetcars, but machines created by combining Necromancy and Golemancy. Ordinary golems were dumb, but golems built around a skeleton retained some of the original being’s intelligence—which basically meant that they wouldn’t run over everything that got in their way. Ever since I had learned about this, I started to regard every goleton around me in a different light.
Devi didn’t share my excitement about the pair of ostriches, watching the Noruk man in our car instead. He wasn’t as musclebound as the ones that had accompanied Roach, but even so his size was impressive. As the largest species living in Fortram, the Noruk were massive, gray-skinned people with stocky legs and muscular arms that ended with three stubby fingers. Instead of a proper nose they had a short horn protruding from the middle of their long face, wide nostrils flaring beneath it. Their mouth was wide, their ears cone-shaped, and no hair grew on their head—simply said, I preferred to view them as rhino-men.
Devi, on the other hand, preferred to view them as enemies. The reason for this was that both Sylven and Noruk came from the same planet, and they had been in war with each other for an eternity. The Noruk sitting in our car had nothing to do with that, of course; he wore no collar, which meant that he was the descendant of Players and hadn’t even seen his homeland. This didn’t reassure Devi at all. She wasn’t openly hostile, but she rested her hand on the hilt of her dagger as she glared at the rhino-man. Racism and speciesism were heavy topics this early in the morning though, so I decided to distract Devi instead.
“I thought we were going to practice with wooden swords,” I said. “Why did you bring Silverfang?”
Devi tore her eyes away of the Noruk, arching an eyebrow as she looked at me.
“Should I leave Silverfang near those thief-children, then?”
“They wouldn’t steal it,” I said. “They like me.”
“They wouldn’t steal from you, is what you mean,” Devi said. She stepped closer, locking eyes with me. “And I’m not yours.”
“You’re your own person,” I agreed, meaning every word I said.
“Yes, I am,” Devi said, then stepped even closer to give me a half-hug—which would have felt much better if her pauldron hadn’t dug into my shoulder so painfully. I found it a very apt metaphor to our platonic relationship.
I wondered whether I should paint this scene once I got home. I was a decent artist, but capturing complex emotions on the canvas had always been a challenge. In some ways, Nerilia was awfully good for improving my art; this world had shown me so much, let me feel so diverse emotions … doing commissioned artwork on Earth just couldn’t even compare. I was sure that this sense of novelty would fade over time, but in the present it felt more and more difficult to stay mad at the three-eyed aliens for jerking me out of my old life. How could I remain angry with them, when the smartest woman I had ever met was currently clinging onto me, telling me to stop staring off into the distance like a loon and get off the streetcar? It made me wonder how much of this had been planned by our kidnappers from the very beginning.
My contemplative mood ended as soon as we arrived to the training yard. Three Players were waiting for us there, armed from head to toe, and I finally realized what Devi had meant by special training. The Rangers of Fortram, Devi’s shiny new covenant, had come to train with us.
“Hello everyone,” Devi said. “Are we late?”
“Not at all,” the man with the scarred face replied. “We’ve just arrived too.”
Devi then introduced me to the Players while I tried to be as civil as possible. I knew where this was going, and I didn’t like it one bit. Why hadn’t Devi told me her plan beforehand? She could have avoided a lot of awkwardness.
“So, Randel,” Devi said, turning to me. “Today we practice Abilities and teamwork. Heda agreed to fight us—”
“But I didn’t agree to fight anyone,” I cut her off. “Sorry Devi, but you’ll have to practice your Abilities without me.”
Devi had been, of course, expecting this answer from me.
“You agreed to help me train,” she said. “Your Abilities match well with mine. It makes sense to practice teamwork.”
“No, it doesn’t. Not unless you expect me to fight your fights,” I said. “I know what you’re doing, Devi; you’re trying to rope me into more and more Player-stuff. I’ve already told you that I’m not interested.”
Devi drew her lips into a line, her eyes flashing in displeasure.
“You’re already here, aren’t you? It wouldn’t hurt to practice this once—it’s for your own good too!”
I turned away from her, smiling apologetically at the three Players watching our debate.
“Sorry about the drama,” I said. “I’ll be waiting by the fence while you practice.”
“Randel—”
Devi practically growled as I walked past Jack and the others, but thankfully she didn’t try to stop me. I teleported Soul Eater to my hand, extended it into a sword, and stabbed it down into the ground next to the fence. Once I wedged it in deep enough, I flattened the pommel and spread it out into a flat and wide rectangle, then sat down on it.
I felt disappointed, though perhaps not as disappointed as I ought to have been; Sarah had already desensitized me to these kinds of semi-betrayals. Devi had played her it’s-a-surprise card, and now I knew not to trust any of her surprises. I understood the sentiment behind her machinations, though; unlike Sarah, Devi did what she did because she thought it would be to my benefit. It had taken her a while to convince me to spar with her, and the next logical step was to convince me to spar with other Players too.
The problem was that Devi had severely underestimated how much Soul Eater’s influence frightened me. I still saw Simon’s furious face in my nightmares, and I didn’t think I could ever forget that cold certainty I felt when I killed him. Risking a practice fight with Players I didn’t know was just asking for disaster.
“I wish I had a breakfast at least,” I muttered, watching the Rangers of Fortram talk with each other. Devi and Heda put some distance between each other, squaring off. Kim stood aside, perhaps to act as a referee or to prevent serious injuries from happening.
Heda didn’t seem to be carrying any weapon and her plate armor was adorned to the point that it seemed entirely impractical—but I had to give it to her that she looked imposing in the morning sunlight. Devi wasn’t a short woman, but Heda towered over her easily. Neither of the women wore any helmet, which I found stupid, though allegedly this wasn’t an unusual phenomenon for Players. At least Devi had a crown of horns to protect her temples.
The fight began when Devi activated her energy weapon and created two clones in quick succession. A throwing knife appeared in Heda’s hand and she flung it at Devi, who seemed to be startled by this sudden move but avoided the knife by opening a portal in front of her. Her Instant Portals Ability had gained a few levels during our fights in the Dungeon, so now it was actually large enough to cover her entire torso. The knife destroyed the clone who opened the other side of the portal, but Devi was already creating another copy of herself behind her impromptu cover.
A simple sword appeared in Heda’s hand and she advanced in a walk, taking only a passing glance at the second clone that was circling behind her. One of the limitations of Devi’s Simulacrum Ability was that it could replicate only solid materials; this meant that Silverfang’s energy blade wasn’t duplicated in the clones’ hands, only the base dagger form. Heda had noticed this difference too, which was why she ignored the real Devi as she walked out from behind the portal with a deactivated Silverfang in her hand. The Sylven girl moved with stiff movements, following the other clone that her opponent had ignored.
When Heda neared the portal, she lunged past it with a burst of speed, kicking up dirt and swinging her sword at the clone hiding behind it. She stopped her strike before it could have connected with the clone’s neck, realizing too late that it wasn’t the real Devi. By the time Heda turned around, three identical Sylven girls were standing behind her with a vacant expression on each of their faces.
“She fights cleverly,” someone spoke right beside us, and we jumped out of our seat, ready to teleport Soul Eater in our hand—only to realize that it was Jack who had spoken. He was leaning against the fence, his cold eyes fixed on the women’s fight. When did he get here?
“Well, she is clever,” I said, taking a seat again and pretending that I wasn’t startled out of my skin. “I can see why you’d want her in your team.”
“Hrm. Being part of the Rangers of Fortram isn’t only about fighting capabilities, but about attitude. That is why we invited her to our covenant, instead of you.”
“Good to know,” I said, turning my attention back to Devi.
Heda was dodging the stiff attacks of the clones, treating them all as if they could potentially expand their daggers into energy blades. She was quite obviously holding back for Devi’s benefit – a quick counterattack would have gotten rid of the clones – but I supposed that was why they called this a practice, instead of a real fight.
After a bit of dancing around with the clones, the original Devi stopped for a moment and pointed with a finger. Power crackled around her hand for a moment and she fired a short, bright beam of arcane energy at one of her clones. The clone froze for a moment, its eyes lighting up with a white glow, then turned and pointed two fingers back to Devi. Heda noticed this too; she made the sword in her hand vanish and a spear in her other hand appear, striking out at the clone—too late. By the time the spearhead pierced the clone’s skin, it had already fired a burst of power – twice as strong as before – back at Devi.
The beam caught Devi in her chest, lighting up her eyes and making strands of her hair stand apart a little as if she was charged with electricity. Heda threw another knife, but Devi dealt with it the same way as before; she opened a portal in front of her. However, this time the other portal was opened right behind Heda and Devi reached through it, pointing four fingers at Heda’s back.
“Nice try!” Heda said just as Devi fired, hitting her—no, the beam of energy didn’t hit. Something wrenched it out of its trajectory, bending it around Heda before shooting it off to the side and hitting one of the clones in the head. The clone’s eyes lit up, and it shuddered once before it exploded.
“Recursive Ray,” Jack spoke from beside me. “A tricky but devastating Ability.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Much like her energy sword, Devi’s third Ability was indeed a stupidly dangerous weapon. If she cast Recursive Ray a single time, it caused nothing more than a sting; a very-very annoying thing to wake up to, but not particularly painful to the recipient. The scary part of Devi’s Ability was that if she got hit by a Recursive Ray, she could absorb it and fire it again with twice as much power—with the limitation that doing so put a strain on her body. The more power she channeled, the bigger the internal strain was. Her clones were able to bounce the Ray only two times before bursting apart from the internal damage, but that much energy was already enough to murder anyone who wasn’t arcane energy-proof.
“I’d dare to say that I understand where you’re coming from,” Jack continued to speak. “In the beginning I too often wished that I had nothing to do with Player-related things.”
I glanced up at him, but his eyes were on the sparring women.
“What changed?” I asked.
“I changed,” Jack said, shrugging. “You forget gradually. You survive day after day, and by the time you realize it, you have already lived on this planet longer than on Earth.”
“The success rate of that surviving part is what worries me.”
“Yet you refrain from practicing your skills,” Jack said. “You refrain from getting stronger. Why is that, I wonder?”
I frowned, thinking about how to reply.
“It’s like going to the gym,” I said. “Sure, you get fit if you work out regularly, which in turn might make you live longer. But are those extra years in your life really worth it when you spend a large portion of it sweating in the gym? Personally, I’d rather live my shorter life doing things that I actually want to do.”
“You’re coming here, to this gym, almost every other day with Devi.”
“Yeah,” I said, wincing inwardly. “I enjoy sparring with her. But with you guys? Not so much. I have to set my boundaries somewhere, or else I become a gym-rat.”
“If you say so.”
I knew that my argument was weak, so I was glad to drop the matter and focus on the women. They had taken up their starting positions and Devi asked Heda to go all out this time.
As soon as Kim announced the start of the match, Heda activated an Ability that pulled everything toward her; it reminded me of Tamara’s Gravity Orb, except its reach was much longer and the pull was stronger. Devi was lifted off her feet easily, flying straight at Heda, thrusting Silverfang at Heda’s side—but when the energy blade touched Heda’s ornate armor, it winked out. Devi slammed into Heda a moment later, grunting from the impact, and Heda gave her a bear hug with a wide smile on her face.
“Wee woo!” Kim called out just before he hit Heda from behind and wrapped his arms around her head. Heda canceled her Ability and released Devi immediately, but Kim refused to let go and wrapped his legs around Heda’s torso instead.
“Kim!” Heda yelled indignantly.
“Now, Devi, quick! Tickle her while she is distracted!”
“Tickle?” Devi repeated, watching the struggling pair in confusion.
“That’s it!” Heda said, prying her boyfriend’s arms off her eyes. “You are sooo sleeping on the couch tonight, Kim!”
Devi took a few cautious steps backward as Heda started a practice match with Kim that consisted of summoning all sorts of melee weapons into her hands and chucking them at Kim one by one.
“They are really lively,” I said as Kim jumped over a spiky mace while making chicken-noises and flapping his arms.
“That they are,” Jack agreed. He tilted his head left and right, cracking his neck. “Perhaps a little too lively, but that’s a topic for another day. I have a question for you Randel, if you don’t mind.”
“Shoot.”
“I got reports about a tragedy that happened recently in a nearby village. Does Gingerhome ring a bell?”
“Not at all,” I said, looking up at Jack. Now he had his eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. “What’s this tragedy about?”
“A massacre done by a Player. Dozens were murdered by a dark-haired man who wielded a shapeshifting weapon.”
I narrowed my eyes, mostly just to hide how shaken I felt.
“That’s horrible.”
“Horrible indeed,” Jack said. “Imagine my surprise when I tried to find the weapon at the Seed Shop, but found nothing. The Shop doesn’t have any pitch-black transforming weapon webbed with throbbing veins, which suggests that it isn’t something any Player could buy. Yet here you are, sitting on one.”
“Well, it’s not my fault that the City Watch didn’t put any benches here.”
Jack raised an eyebrow at that.
“You take the accusation much better than Devi did,” he said. “She got really upset on your behalf when I told her about this.”
“Oh. I should have known that you’ve already spoken with Devi,” I said, sighing. “So, what did she say about my weapon?”
“Nothing at all, which is why I’m asking you now.”
I hummed, feeling a surge of gratefulness. I didn’t hurry to reply, though. I knew that if I kept silent Jack could rightfully regard me as someone suspicious, but there was no way that I would tell him everything. A better person would have revealed Soul Eater’s secrets, I lamented. I was never going to be that better person, however.
“Rest assured, I’m not the Player who killed those people in Gingerhome,” I said, standing up to transform Soul Eater back to a sword.
“In that case,” Jack said, “I’d appreciate if you could share the capabilities of your weapon. It might not be completely like the murderer’s, but they are alarmingly similar.”
“Oh, they are probably the same kind,” I said. I plucked Soul Eater out of the ground and handed it to Jack. “The Inspector who gave it to me called it a prototype. I can shape the black material by imagining how I want it to look like, but the less it resembles a sword, the harder it is for me to alter its shape.”
Jack nodded, taking Soul Eater from me.
“Does your collar have an item description for it?”
“It does,” I said. “It calls the weapon a demon’s fang and says that as a side effect it might make its owner go insane.”
“Hrm,” Jack grunted, eyeing me carefully. “That’s very forthright for you to say.”
I shrugged.
“First off,” I said, holding up a finger, “the weapon doesn’t affect me because I’m already a little bit crazy. I have so many brilliant thoughts in my head that it’s literally insane!”
Jack grunted, clearly not convinced by my wits.
“Secondly,” I moved on, “I believe that if the weapon could harm my mind in any way, it already would have. I had fought several times with it in the past and used its shapeshifting ability quite extensively. What you should take away from this is that the Player you’re looking for might not have been so lucky. He might be hallucinating or act otherwise unreasonably, which is probably the reason behind his killing spree.”
It was a risk to admit these things to Jack of course, but it was a calculated one; I figured it would be more suspicious if I sugar-coated my weapon’s properties. I didn’t want to keep silent about the possible side effects, just in case Jack learned about them later from a separate source.
“Alright,” Jack said, his expression as controlled as mine. “And what about the teleportation?”
“One of my Abilities,” I said. “It came with the prototype, but I don’t think it’s related to its powers.”
“I see,” Jack said, running his hand along the black blade. He then pressed his thumb against the edge until he began bleeding. “Feel any different?”
“Nope. I’m not going to murder you just because you bled on my weapon.”
“It was worth a try,” Jack said. He eyed the sword critically for a moment longer, then handed it back to me. “The metal is the same material our collars are made of.”
“Seems like it,” I agreed, taking Soul Eater back. There were still a bunch of other things I didn’t share with Jack, like my ability to stop bleeding at will. Even if it was useful information against the murderer, I couldn’t bring myself to say it; admitting that I wasn’t entirely biologically human felt too … personal. I didn’t even want to admit it to myself, let alone to a near-stranger.
Another thing I hadn’t mentioned that according to Soul Eater’s description, I needed to feed the weapon constantly. I wasn’t sure what constantly meant anyway, because it had been about a month since I last stabbed something to death – if killing those sweller-controlled Players counted at all – and Soul Eater worked fine still. And I had also left out that Soul Eater lent me fighting-knowledge—we didn’t want Jack to think that our mind was already under some sort of influence, so it was best if we kept silent about it.
“This troubles me a lot, by the way,” I told Jack, wedging Soul Eater into the ground to sit on it again. “If the Inspectors hand out more and more of these prototype weapons to Players, and those Players start to commit atrocities with them, someone might mistake me for a mass murderer. If people freaked out at the sight of Soul Eater, I won’t be able to use it as a seat anymore.”
“I might have enough sway at the City Watch to make them put a bench here,” Jack said without breaking his serious demeanor. “I’d like to thank you for your cooperation, Randel. The Rangers of Fortram will look for the killer as soon as we have the time.”
“Oh? Why, are you busy with something else right now?”
Jack gave me a chiding look, as if I was forgetting something important.
“Well,” he said, “we have a horde of giant swellers to deal with, don’t we?”
