Chapter 1 - Fate, Believe

Terallian has awoken once more under his shady tree, once more in Esaria Global. Meeting a strange boy, battling thieves and reuniting with a friend from reality kick-starts his journey in the world.

The first star had finally sparkled in the night sky, declaring the third day to be over. Though I loved the chilling breeze that came complimentary with nightfall, a sky as dark the void was seldom a good sign.

“That makes three, huh?” I whispered, chewing a thin straw of wheat I’d collected from the field along the way.

I lay under what was once a shady tree (now simply just a tree as night had claimed its powers without remorse), waiting for an answer I knew would never come.

There’s a certain feeling that’s well acquainted with being alone, but it doesn’t mix well with being lonely. Right now, I was alone in a world I’d never thought to be real, and yet at this moment, I felt far from lonely.

The cold wind swept my hair across my face. I shut my eyes, slowly.

“Alone but not lonely…”

Sleep ensued.

When I next awoke, the sun had once again claimed its rightful place in the blue sky of the early morning. I let out a powerful yawn, stretching amongst the wet grass in the shape of an angel.

“Ahhhh- huh?” I cut the yawn short, spitting out the wheat strand and raised a hand to my head, running it through my long, blonde hair.

It was wet. As was the ground around me and my equipment; a long-sleeved tan tunic, thick leather pants and boots, and a belt made of cloth (hardly a belt, but I used it like one) that had a weaponless sheathe tucked firmly through a loop in the side of it. Wet. It was all wet.

My shirt clung to my chest, and moving my arms was frustratingly awkward. With a sigh, I raised one hand to the sky, with my thumb and forefinger positioned in an L shape like that of a gun.

“Bang.” I whispered to myself, a bullet striking through the clouds, allowing the sun to encounter no resistance in drying me faster. Or so I liked to think. I reeled my arm back in and held the pretend pistol to my face.

“Wouldn’t a firearm be mighty convenient in this world…”

Or a car. I’d love a car right now.

I rolled onto my left side, propping my body up on my elbow to observe both my iron sword plunged into the ground, and the beautiful town of Orvan off in the distance.

The town, the first place I and the other players started our cursed journey, was a fairly decent walk from the hill I lay upon. Dragging my gaze away from the city, I glanced across at a silhouette drawing closer from the path beside the tree.

A player? Or an NPC?

My question was answered as the boy, around thirteen or so, approached me with caution. He had almost identical clothing to mine, but his tunic was a light burgundy and no belt could be seen. The one most noticeable similarity was his empty sheathe, but unlike me, his blade wasn’t within reaching distance.

His body was tensed, and each step he took seemed to grow slower and slower until he came to halt, one hand outstretched like he was going to snatch my wallet, acting as if I wasn’t staring directly at him.

I sat up, causing him to pace back a few metres.

“Are you a player killer?” He asked, voice young and high.

“Are you?” I shot back, brushing my bangs out of my eyes. They stuck to my hand, and then to the side of my head, but I ignored it.

He paused a moment, loosening up.

“Maybe.” He started. “Maybe not.”

It took me a few moments to remember he was lacking any kind of weapon, and practically no one would be stupid enough to fight with their fists.

“If it’s a maybe,” I began. “I’m happy to kill you.”

His face went pale and I was forced to retain my laughter. After a few seconds, I thought he was bound to make a run for it, but he stood his ground despite his face donning a look of horror.

“I’m kidding, kiddo.” I smiled.

His face returned to normal, but his cautious stance didn’t change.

I can hardly blame you for being cautious…

“Promise?” He asked.

“Promise.” I replied almost immediately.

In the same instance, the young boy loosened up, lowering his hand, and walked over towards me. For some reason, his presence made me nervous. It took me just a moment to realize how bizarre it was for someone to approach a player without purpose, and to interrogate them of their killing intents as if to say, “I don’t trust you, but I have this desire to stand closer to you.”

“Do you have a name?” I asked, standing up and drifting casually towards my blade. Clasping the hilt and raising it with one hand, I slammed it down into its sheathe to make a my point clear.

Instead of seeing it as a friendly gesture, the boy gulped and took a pace backwards.

My bad…

“Sorry.” I said.

The boy shook his head.

“No, that’s fine. My name’s Miguel.”

“Terallian. A pleasure, Miguel.”

We walked towards each other and Miguel clasped my hand firmly, shaking it. Shooting him a nod, I released his grasp and took a few steps towards the tree, leaning against it with one hand as the boy observed the area under the tree.

I examined him up and down. He had similar clothes, like I mentioned earlier, and a subtle necklace around his neck, in the shape of a…

That’s… Different.

I shook it off to break the silence.

“So tell me Miguel. What brings you to my little piece of Esaria?” I asked, gesturing to the shade under the tree, where nothing else was present.

“Uhh… Do you… Come here often?” He asked, slightly confused, assumedly by why I’d claimed ownership of practically nothing.

“That I do.” I replied, nodding my head awkwardly.

There was a brief silence which I broke quickly.

“N-not that we’ve really… Even… Been here for more than three days, but you know. Sorta often?” I laughed.

“I… See?” He somewhat questioned, as if expecting an explanation.

“O-oh, right. Was there something you wanted?” I asked, averting my eyes to look at the ground.

This may be one of the awkwardest conversations I’ve had in this game. What does he want? Who is he? Is he incapable of proper speech, coming along to strike up a crude conversation of sorts? He has to have some kind of purpose here.

“Not really…”

He doesn’t!?

“Actually I’d best be going, if that’s okay, Terallian.”

I stared at Miguel.

“S-something… Wrong?” He asked, starting to take a few paces backwards

“Absolutely nothing. Nice meeting you Miguel, take care.” I replied, waving him off as he walked backwards onto the road.

As the strange boy disappeared into the distance, I slumped against the tree and stared at the ground.

“What the hell was wrong with that boy…” I whispered to myself, quickly realizing I’d just sat down in wet grass once more.

Groaning, I stood up again, only to discover bark stuck to the back of my tunic. The day didn’t seem to wish for me to have peace, so I considered heading back to Orvan to do a bit of spending.

Collecting all of my equipment (which was, again, practically nothing but a straw of wheat from across the path), I pressed on in the direction of the town, squinting in the sunlight as I tried to spot Miguel. Giving up as he was nowhere to be found, I carried with a hasting jog, hoping to dry off my clothing before I arrived.

A short while later, I was outside the walls of Orvan, an incredible stone giant looming over the plains that encircled the entire town itself.

Heading through the front gate, which was an incredibly massive ‘gap’ between the walls, I took my direction northward in seeking the closest blacksmith. Having entered the main courtyard to the city, I rounded the first corner in the town, heading past a few houses that appeared to be player homes, all currently unowned as no one yet had the funds to make such a purchase.

Turning another corner, I stopped outside the blacksmith’s shop, pausing to observe. It was a plain store, not even identifiable as a shop if it wasn’t for the sign above the door written in red letters against a black board.

Knocking, I pressed against the door, stepping inside without bothering to wait since it was owned by an NPC.

To my surprise, I was met face-to-face by a boy with a long, blonde ponytail which he played with over his shoulder. His brown eyes widened and he immediately shuffled backwards away from me, lowering his head.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was…”

I paused. That wasn’t just a boy, that was a boy that I knew. And knew well.

“Y-You…” I began, stuttering briefly, caught by surprise.

What do I say? Say something!

“It’s been a while…” I laughed, looking at the boy as the blacksmith continued about his duties nonchalantly.

He raised his head slowly, and titled it to the side.

God, he’s like a cat.                               

I was in shock.

Am I acting too casual? This is him. This is him!

I smiled, offering a hand out to the friend I hadn’t seen in months. A friend who wasn’t just a friend in this world, but a friend in the other world, too. A friend who I spent every day in school with, side by side, up until the moment this game began. A real friend, and a friend who was real.

“W-Who’re you?” He asked, dumbfounded.

Oh God, oh God, oh God I got the wrong person, I got the wrong person. What the hell do I do? This is even awkwarder than with Miguel! No, but it has to be him. It has to be.

I glanced to my left, and to my surprise, there was a body-length mirror used for trying on armour to see if it looked right. To, well, no surprise… I was barely identifiable with my hair looking like the coast a typhoon had struck.

I turned back to the blonde boy with the ponytail.

“Yo, Griffith. It’s Tera.” I said, shooting him a grin.

His eyes lit up, and he took a breath before his face twisted into a look of disgust and confusion.

“W-What the h-hell happened… To y-your hair?” He stuttered, frowning at me.

At the same time, we both walked straight towards each other and I pulled him into a hug, actually drawing the attention of the blacksmith for a brief moment.

“Oh, you know. A vicious fight against a dozen assassins with katana’s. The usual.” I laughed as he hugged me harder.

“T-three days… It took you a while, T-Tera.” He muttered, releasing the hug and putting a hand on his waist. “I missed you, bud.”

“I missed you too. It’s been chaos… Let’s get out of here, shall we?” I asked. “Done buying?”

He nodded, taking a breath as if he wasn’t sure I was real.

One down, two to go…

We burst out the door, a “Thank you, come again!” echoing from the NPC shopkeeper who’d been slightly startled by our embrace. Stepping out onto the dusty ground, I turned to Griffith who was still slightly startled.

“H-How…?” He asked, gesturing to a mix of the shop and himself.

“Do you believe in fate, my friend?” I questioned with a laugh, something I asked him very often in reality, as I paced backwards to observe the blonde boy.

“Better yet, does fate believe in us?” He replied not a stutter in his speech, having heard that statement countless times.

I nodded slowly as Griffith hopped off the steps to the store, scattering a small amount of dust.

“I’d sure hope so, lest this be a difficult path for us.” I said, gesturing to the dirt road with a smile plastered on my face.

“M-metaphorically, of course. N-not just this… This, uh, road.” I quickly added.

“Y-yeah, yeah.”

Turning around, I started to walk back towards the corner as Griff followed behind me. Rounding the player homes, we quickly made our way back past the buildings and into the main courtyard.

The main street of the town was a direct route to the opposite (Western) exit. We’d headed for the East, where there were few interesting places to see. A few players casually standing about, others discussing plans in regards to clearing the gate boss, as well as, well…

A single girl, around sixteen or so, was walking up and down the path staring at her hands, which were completely pale, as was her face. From our distance, we couldn’t hear what she was saying by ear, but I’d scarily adjusted to lip reading the same statement from so many players.

“…This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t…”

She went on repeating it to herself in a whisper of a voice, completely out of it. A few passing players were distressed, while others completely brushed her off by habit.

“Adapt or die, stupid girl.” A middle-aged man said as he sat across from her on a bench. She paid no attention, but I felt my fist tighten without intent.

I started in the man’s direction, suddenly feeling pissed at his attitude. Before I could take another step, Griffith caught my arm.

“Let it go. I-it happens…” He said in a cool voice.

Taking a deep breath, I turned on my heels and dragged the blonde boy with me in the direction of the city gate. I felt myself subtly tighten my grip on Griffith’s wrist.

Things like that infuriate me and you know it.

Crossing the threshold into the Orvan plains, I turned my self towards the hill with the shady tree, crushing a stick as we moved off the path and into the thick grass.

Shaking free of my grip, Griffith spoke.

“Listen, Tera. W-we’ll never make it past the first g-gate if waste our time on… O-on people like him.”

The first gate.

The very first thing most players did when the game started was (aside from screaming and yelling and carrying on) purchase a map from the general store. From what I’d seen, the world of Esaria was broken up into three different countries, with “walls” separating each one. To pass the wall, you had to defeat the boss guarding it. It was the only way. Those that tried to scale the wall were picked apart by… Unspeakable things. “Ravens” was the name we gave to them, but any other description was out of the question. Digging under proved the walls run deep into the ground, too far to make it underneath them. Anyone that trekked to the edges… Never came back.

The gate was the only option left, and it wouldn’t open without a key belonging to the boss in front of it. No one had yet succeeded.

“Whatever, that’s not our problem. Glad to know you know what you’re doing in the game, at least.” I replied, crossing the field as Griffith walked along side me, looking concerned.

“Y-You didn’t expect me to?” He asked, observing the environment. As we walked, he picked up a large stick to use as a makeshift walking cane.

“I expected you to need as much protection as… Well, just forget it.” I muttered as we got closer and closer to the tree.

After my comment, Griff didn’t say another word, and so we walked in silence, the grass making a squelching sound after each step, wetting our boots. The sun was high in the sky now, and my stomach grumbled.

I hadn’t even had breakfast, let alone lunch yet, and since it was probably about that time anyway…

“Hey, want to eat by the tree? I’ve got plenty of food in my inventory.”

“T-tree?” Griffith asked, looking up at the large oak tree.

“Yeah, right there. I’ve spent most of my time there. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Show him what, exactly?

“…The shade.” I muttered with a smile.

“Shade?”

”A-ah, nothing. Here.” I replied, closing my eyes and darting them up and across to the food sub-menu, opening them to select a bread roll.

“Whoa. Y-you use retina?” He asked, surprised at my choice of menu selection.

“Yeah, I can’t… You know.”

“Click your fingers?” Griffith laughed, leaning against his stick.

“Shut up… A menu’s a menu. Open it however you want.” I laughed back.

If there was one thing I liked about Esaria Global, aside from the shady oak tree we were now standing under, it’s the options it grants the players. Players had countless options for opening their menu, and I happened to discover mine while napping.

Still glad I found a sleep option in the menu…

I tossed the bread roll that materialized in my hand to Griffith.

“Catch.”

“T-thanks.” He said, catching it with his free hand.

As he took a bite out of the roll, I shut my eyes once more to grab one for myself. With my eyes, closed, my other senses heightened, namely my ears.

Footsteps.

“Who’s there?” I asked with a cliché statement, opening my eyes and turning with one hand against my sheathe.

“Well, well. A keen ear, Terallian.”

“Miguel?”

The boy from earlier this morning stepped out from behind the tree. Not a moment after, two bulky, unsavoury individuals trailed behind him, a menacing look on their grubby faces.

“You remembered? How sweet. Empty your inventory onto the floor. Now.”

Tch, b*****d.

In a clean sweep, I dashed straight for the young boy, catching him off guard with an outright attack. Shoulder out front, I connected the bulk of my body against his chin, a sharp crack ringing through his body as teeth shattered.

The two large men made a wild grab for me, one of them catching my arm and yanking me to the ground. I hit the grass hard, knocking the breath out of my body.

Miguel let out a sharp cry, realizing his injury.

“Y-y-you f*****g a*****e!” He screamed, clutching his jaw as my face was buried into the wet grass.

“Language, kiddo.” I started, taking a breath as the second man twisted my arm fiercely. “A-and who’re these, your muscle-brained minions?” I laughed, receiving a swift punch to my lower back as punishment.

“You’ve got a sharp tongue for someone about to have his head cut off. Kar, grab the blonde one.” The man on the right said, who was holding my left arm in an awkward position.

“You got… Wait, where’d he go?” The other man, ‘Kar’, asked, walking towards the spot where Griffith was.

“Oh, Kar, is it? Can I drive you?” I teased, receiving another sharp punch to my spine. The second one hurt enough to shut me up briefly as I pondered where Griffith took off to.

My question was answered immediately.

Hopping the injured Miguel, the blonde boy struck the brute holding my arm down in the back of the head with his stick.

Griffith let out a cry, striking him hard. It was a clean hit, taking him out.

Instantly, I felt the grip on my arm loosen, and I rolled out from under him before he crashed into the dirt, unconscious.

Scrambling backwards, I pulled myself up with my free hand, stepping back towards my friend. My left arm hurt immensely, but I fought with my right.

“Fate does believe in us, huh?” I commented, slightly out of breath as Kar pulled an axe from his waist, ready to fight.

“You’re dead for that. Both of you.”

“Good luck, tubby. Griff, watch the kid. He’s mine.”

“C…Count on it!”

Drawing my blade in a clean motion, a perfect metallic sound echoing throughout the field, I lunged towards my opponent, swinging my sword diagonally towards his shoulder.

Kar swung his weapon upwards; countering and rendering me wide open for an attack. He followed up with the opportunity, attacking with a small spike atop his steel axe.

“Ah-“ I let out a cry as his next swing was stopped mid thrust by a kick from Griffith.

Not a breath later, the stick-wielding warrior was tackled to the ground by an enraged Miguel.

“D****t, I said to watch the-“ I started, lashing out at Kar’s belly as he failed to retaliate form the kick, actually having being disarmed in the process.

“Kid!” I yelled, ripping across his torso with a clean strike, blood spurting like a fountain from his oversized belly.

“F-“ The large man started, before I thrust again with both hands. The blade went straight through his chest, and his voice ceased. His head slumped sideways.

He was dead.

“…Holy s**t.” I whispered at the realization.

I paused for a few moments, breathing heavily as the deceased player slumped against me. I withdrew my blade from his body, and stepped past him as he fell onto the ground right after.

“G-get… Off!” I heard Griffith shout, immediately drawing my attention towards the two struggling on the ground.

I staggered towards them, suddenly feeling nauseous. Miguel suffered a punch to the nose as Griffith switched their position, now atop his opponent.

“Move your head!” I screamed at Griffith, swinging my blade overhead and slamming it down towards Miguel.

“N-no, wai-“ The boy yelled.

He fell silent as my blade met its mark. I released the hilt and dropped face-first into the ground.

“Oh my God…” Griffith whispered, horrified.

I could hear his boots moving fast and rough against the wet grass, pulling himself away.

I lay there, breathing heavily, and didn’t move for quite some time.

“Is…”

Breathe. Just breathe.

“Is it over?” I managed to cough out, lifting myself up a bit.

Ahead of me was the lifeless body of Miguel, a thin spray of blood running up the oak tree behind him.

“Oh God…” I cried, feeling nauseous once more.

“T-Tera, don’t look… J-just follow me.” Griffith said coolly as possible with his stutter, catching me by the wrist and making for the town. I clutched my sword absent mindedly, dragging it through the grass as I stumbled to my feet.

In a daze, I was pulled along, away from the blood-splattered tree that was the closest thing to ‘home’ I had. It was like being tugged away from the only familiar thing in this virtual world; away from that, and into the arms of someone from the real world.

We didn’t speak the whole way back, and I didn’t even struggle against Griffith’s determined grip like he had against mine. We just walked, in silence.

Like nothing had ever happened? No, the scenario was racing through both our minds. I was sure of it.

After a short while, I regained my composure, just as we came to the gates of Orvan. I paused a moment, and Griffith released my wrist without a word, simply turning to watch my eyes drift to the ground. I stared at the dirt, and the dirt stared at me. I took the opportunity to sheathe my bloodied weapon with a thick glugging sound as the red liquid clutched to the sheathe.

I cringed.

“T-there’s a tavern. Slightly West of here… “ Griffith began, tracing my eyes down to the dirt, watching it with me. “W-we can stay the night there upstairs. It’s not the n-nicest… B-but…” His voice trailed off.

I nodded, eyes glued to the ground.

“Yeah. Sounds nice.”

The tavern wasn’t far, really. It was in the initial courtyard of the city, and reeked of alcohol, booze and idiocy. Not everyone was determined to succeed in this world.

We entered, paying the owner for two rooms, and headed upstairs. Ditching my weapon onto the floor, I smiled briefly as Griffith crashed into the bed on the left.

I paused couple moments, expecting him to roll over and talk to me, but the noise that followed wasn’t his voice, but his snore. My smile faded, and morphed into a grin.

A deserved rest, Griff.

Darting my eyes over the blade, I caught sight of some blood around the hilt. Quickly averting my gaze, I turned to the door, opening it as it let out a creak, and made my way to the stairs. Taking them two at a time, I crept out into the late afternoon air.

I walked around the city aimlessly, deep in thought. It hadn’t really dawned on me just yet the consequences of this world. We’d assumed it as a game, as it had to be, but had we assumed too fast? That didn’t feel like killing a video game character.

That felt like killing a person.

When I showed up in this virtual reality I, along with all the others players, was thrust into a brief explanation. Whatever the purpose, be it an experiment on humans, a research project or God knows whatever mission gone wrong, we had a single goal �" pass all three gates and survive. That was it.

That was all we were told.

The rest didn’t take long to understand. Though the other players vary from ages of ten, all the way to fifty or so, we all kind of… Adapted, so to speak.

“Adapt or survive.”

I’d quickly mastered the mechanics of combat and basic trivial tasks like walking and running. It felt like reality, but more free. More open and expansive. We could move at the same speed as we would in real life, but the more you increased the applicable skills, the faster you could move, the harder you could hit, the longer you could endure running. It all improved as we improved, but unlike any game I’d played before. There were no levels, and magic was but a rumour.

Killing was the one thing I could never compare to reality.

I continued around town until night fell and the streets grew dark. I hastened my walk, and headed back for the tavern, avoiding the alleyways where other players might be hiding in wait. Not even towns were ‘safe’, with murder still possible, just yet to be seen. I think.

Is it even possible to be injured or killed in a town?

I kept to myself until I reached  tavern, contemplating that question, yet dreading the answer. I soon arrived at the door, and heading inside, sidestepping drunken patrons and making my back to the room. When I entered, Griffith was still out cold.

“I’ll return the favour.” I muttered to myself with yet another smile; dragging up over him the covers he’d managed to kick onto the floor.

His snoring continued, and my smile faded as drowsiness took over.

Stepping over my discarded weapon, I crawled into my own bed, pulling the covers up just over my chin.

With cool night air fluttering through the window, in a heated battle against the warmth of the room, my mind drifted, over Miguel and the two brutes. We’d left one of them there, unconscious. If he woke up…

Ah, s**t.

“Griffith.” I whispered.

No reply.

“Ahh… Tomorrow’s problem.” I sighed, rolling over and pulling the covers up slightly higher.

Tomorrow’s problem…

Turned out there was more than one.