Amelia Thornheart

The first thing Amelia noticed upon waking was the lack of pain. She had become so used to either the rotting ache of her disease or the sharp pain of needles that she had forgotten what it felt like to not be in some form of agony.

Her body felt floaty and warm and her mind, normally racked with exhaustion and headaches, felt clear and rested. Feeling herself smile, Amelia set about trying to memorise these feelings she had long forgotten.

After a few moments, she decided to risk flexing a few toes and was delighted to find that this didn't cause the usual shooting pains. She moved a leg, then an arm, and then, deciding to risk it all, did something she hadn't been able to do in years.

"Mmmh!"

She stretched like a cat, feeling satisfaction reverberate through her body.

Surely she had died and this was heaven!?

Although, she was definitely lying on a hard wooden floor and that didn't seem very heaven-like at all! Not that she was complaining; compared to her years in the hospital a floor like this was a welcome change of pace.

Even so, she thought, I should probably open my eyes and see where I am.

A wooden ceiling looked back at her, striated with dark beams. Amelia sat up and found she was in some kind of office or study. The walls were covered with bookcases, cabinets, and tables. Where the wall was not covered in furniture, it was plastered with paintings. One side even sported the mounted head of a moose! Centred in the room, in front of her, were an ornate desk and leather chair flanked by two large windows. Behind her was a pair of double doors.

Using the desk as a handhold, Amelia slowly stood up. Amazingly, she still wasn't in pain! Her knees didn't feel like they would collapse under her own weight! They seemed… strong!

"I'm standing up!" she exclaimed to herself and the world.

She took a few steps back and forth and then a few more. The feeling of not being weak was intoxicating. She even did a few jumps, her blond hair rising and falling in waves.

Wait, her blond hair?

Amelia grabbed her hair and examined it. It was definitely blond, practically golden! How had this happened!? She was certain it wasn't dyed, so then how did her hair change colour!? Amelia's hair was supposed to be mousy brown, not this lustrous, shining gold!

She looked over the rest of her body, feeling herself frown. She wore a simple grey top and shorts that hung loosely, leaving her midriff and legs rather bare. These clothes were definitely not the usual hospital clothing she'd grown so used to!

Who was responsible for not only taking away her pain but also changing both her hair and her clothes!? Amelia looked around, her eyes settling on a painted portrait of a young woman. The painted lady appeared noble; she wore a white and gold uniform and had the same golden hair Amelia did. The refined depiction had eyes that were a brilliant blue and, on the woman's forehead, two small, neat horns sat.

Weird, but they do look cool, Amelia thought. Wait! Do I…?

Her hands snapped to her forehead.

Ah, what a shame!

While she didn't have horns, the weirdness didn't end there. Continuing to examine herself, Amelia found that her pale feet, with all their ten cute toes, were definitely not hers. Amelia had spent countless hours looking at her toes at the end of the hospital bed and these were not her toes. Looking at her hands, she came to the same conclusion.

These were not her fingers.

This was not her body!

She found a mirror hung by the stuffed moose head. She raced to it and stared at her reflection, not quite believing what she was looking at.

Golden hair. Blue eyes. No horns.

And a face that only a fool would deny was unbelievably adorable and cute!

There was no doubt! This was the body of Amelia Thornheart, the character she had spent years levelling in the hospital!

But… why was she in her game character's human form!? Her character was supposed to be a demonic combat mage with horns and black wings! That's how Amelia had played her for years!

Ah.

Amelia remembered the last time she logged in. She'd participated in a guild social event where they all took polymorph potions to change their form. To make things even more amusing, they undertook combat roles vastly different from their usual ones for that night's PvE event.

So, Amelia Thornheart, the demon mage of destruction and terror, was instead played as an adorable blond human healer! But why was she in the body of her game character? Was she still logged into the game world?

No, Amelia thought. I'm not.

Somehow, she knew on an instinctive level this wasn't a game world, dream world, or any kind of neurolink-enhanced simulated reality. This was the real world, with everything as corporeal and sensational as it should be.

Did that mean some divine power had recreated the game's world in some pocket of the universe, or did this world always exist, and the game was made to replicate it for entertainment purposes?

More importantly, if her body had been changed to that of her polymorphed game character, then did that mean…?

"Status," Amelia muttered, a glimmer of hope rising in her mind.

Nothing. There was no floating game screen. Amelia tried a number of other phrases to the same disappointing effect. She even tried to will her character screen into existence to no avail. She supposed it did make sense. If this was the real world, and she was certain it was, then she wouldn't have access to her status screen.

What a shame! She'd hoped to be able to access her in-game subspace inventory. Unfortunately, it seemed that the entity that had given her a new body hadn't replicated the overpowered end-game armour and weapons she'd spent hundreds of hours grinding for!

Not that she was complaining! Whoever her mysterious creator was, they'd already given her the most valuable thing of all!

A healthy body!

Amelia patted that very same healthy body, giggling to herself as she experimented with tensing her muscles and enjoying the sensation of strength. As she explored her new body's capabilities, a part of her mind became aware of something else that seemed to align with the game she played. She could sense an ethereal substance that floated within her in massive quantities.

Similar to how she instinctively knew this world was real, she also somehow knew exactly what the mysterious substance was.

Aether.

In the game, it was the primary resource for most magic disciplines. As a combat mage, Amelia had spent an enormous amount of time completing quests and hunting titles to maximise her aether capacity and regeneration. After all, she needed all that aether to cast her titanic combat spells! Her obsession with aether had earned her the nickname 'Aether Addict' amongst her guildmates.

So she had aether, but could she cast magic?

Canonically, magic was cast in-game by speaking the incantation. However, Amelia had grown used to casting magic by thinking of the spell name. She'd been thankful for the game developers for putting that feature in, for she was often too exhausted from her disease to talk. Could she do the same here?

Well, as she always said, nothing ventured, nothing gained!

First-Circle, Ward of Thew, she said in her mind, willing the magic to manifest. Amazingly, she felt her aether tremble. It had definitely responded to her thoughts! Steeling her mind, Amelia tried again.

First-Circle, Ward of Thew.

Suddenly, she felt an exhilarating rush as her aether twisted and turned inside her, moving itself into the required structure and then activating. As the wardspell manifested, Amelia felt stronger and full of vigour. She felt powerful. She felt like she could stop a blade with her bare hands! Her skin took on a golden glow, matching what she remembered from the game.

That golden glow bathed the room in yellow light. That wouldn't do! Amelia could hardly explore this new world while glowing like a lighthouse! She needed to do something about this!

Luckily, she knew the exact spell she needed.

Third-Circle, Cloak of Secrecy.

The cloaking spell activated, hiding the characteristic golden glow of Ward of Thew. She let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for that!

Now that she had some defence, Amelia felt confident enough to explore. Approaching the windows, she noticed they were thick. Perhaps six inches or more! She peered out and was met with nothing but a blue sky far above and clouds below.

Was this building on a mountaintop?

She turned her attention to the desk. Upon it lay a large map that seemed to be of an archipelago. Numerous locations had been labeled and the owner of this office had pinned notes to different locations. Amelia peered closer to read some of them.

Yup, she couldn't read this!

It certainly wasn't English, nor did it look like any of the scripts found in the game!

"What language is this…?" Amelia pondered.

"That would be High Imperial, little one," a coarse masculine voice intoned, causing Amelia to jump and hit her head on the ceiling! As she fell back down, Amelia realised her body wasn't used to the extra strength the now-cloaked Ward of Thew gave her.

"Who's there!? Show yourself, intruder!" Amelia shouted. "I have hands, and I'm not afraid to use them!" She held out her hands like a boxer while frantically scanning the room for the hidden speaker.

"Ah… hahaha!" the hidden man laughed. "I'm the intruder? What a strange human you are to accuse me of the crime you're guilty of! Yes, yes... Over here. No, no… to your right, by the mirror, little one." Amelia followed the voice until her eyes settled on the source.

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"A talking moose!" she blurted out, looking at the stuffed moose head.

"I am not a talking moose!" the talking moose exclaimed. "I am… Anathor! The guardian of this ship and adviser to its captain. I-"

"We're on a ship!?" Amelia interrupted. She darted back to the window, peering through the thick glass. "Then why can't I see the sea!? Where's the water!?"

"Hrmph," grumbled Anathor. "I said we're on a ship, little one… the Vengeance! A mighty military vessel feared for leagues around! This is no mere watership for harvesting salt! What use would there be of putting a warship on water when we have the skies?"

"We're flying? I'm on a flying ship!?" Amelia bounced back to Anathor.

"Flying? Fish fly. We're sailing." Anathor paused before quickly adding, "We forget ourselves! The topic of this conversation is you! Who are you, little human, and what are you doing in the captain's quarters?"

Anathor's glassy eyes took on a red tinge that Amelia supposed was meant to be threatening. Surprisingly, she found herself completely calm. It was a weird feeling, considering the situation. She supposed she should be frightened or otherwise intimidated, but somehow, she found herself lacking any feelings of anxiety.

Instead, she felt excited! Whether it was the giddiness of her pain-free body or the thrill of using magic, something in Amelia told her that if she kept being positive, everything would work out!

Furthermore, Amelia had a certain feeling that Anathor wouldn't harm her, and even if he tried, she was confident she wouldn't be harmed, owing to her Ward of Thew. It was a strange sensation to be able to instinctively determine the relative strength of Anathor and her magical defence. Had she inherited not just her game character's body but also its stats as well?

In the game, the higher a character's perception stat was, the more capable they were of determining what can and cannot harm them and the general nature of another creature. As a max-level combat mage, Amelia Thornheart had tremendous base stats, boosted by months of achievement grinding. It seemed that enhanced perception was now part of Amelia's new body.

She just knew that Anathor was someone of good character and not dangerous!

At least, not dangerous to her.

Collecting her thoughts, she answered Anathor's question.

"I'm Amelia! Pleased to meet you, Mr Anathor!" she chirped, giving a polite bow and flashing the red-eyed moose what she hoped was a charismatic smile. Her mind was racing, trying to think of how to approach Anathor's second question. What was she doing in the captain's quarters? It wasn't as if she could explain that she was a virtual avatar that some great power had somehow created in the real world and moved her soul into!

That didn't mean Amelia had to lie. Amelia hated lying.

But she could also rephrase the truth.

"As for why I'm here…" Amelia began. "After a long battle with a painful disease, I was finally cured of it! But somehow the cure has magically transported me to this location unknown! I really didn't mean to come here! It was an accident, I promise!" Amelia swallowed before continuing, "To be honest, I don't know what the future holds for me, but after being bedridden for so long, I want to travel and explore the world!"

As she spoke, a sudden idea flashed in her mind. After all, this was her game character, and she knew she could cast Ward of Thew. That spell was from the divine healing branch of Aseco, and while her true magical talents lay in ridiculously overcharged combat magic, it wasn't like she wanted to go around destroying everything! Anathor did say this was a military vessel, after all. Wouldn't her healing magic be valuable to its captain?

Wouldn't she be able to explore this world by just staying here? She could at least learn about the world before deciding whether to escape! Amelia nodded to herself reassuringly. She opened her mouth and said, "I have some talent in magic healing. If this is a military vessel, perhaps your captain would allow me to offer my services?"

Anathor was silent for a full minute.

"Hmm…."

"Mr Anathor?"

"What a strange human you are. Your personality… reminds me of…" Anathor grumbled something indecipherable before announcing, "Nevertheless, you may explain yourself to the captain!"

"The captain?" Amelia question. "Uh, sure! Where is he?"

"She is here now. Be warned… she can be a little… angry."

As Amelia processed that last sentence, the double doors burst open and suddenly there was a cutlass in her face! A real, steel cutlass! Attached to this shining blade was a firm and steady hand, and attached to that hand was a towering figure in a neat black military uniform trimmed with gold. On the top of this figure, a beautiful demon face was snarling at her, with deep crimson eyes, smooth black hair, and a set of magnificent horns!

"A demon! A demon captain!" she exclaimed, admiring the figure that looked like it belonged more in a storybook than reality. She found herself getting lost in the captain's crimson eyes. Yes… she could work for such a pretty captain!

Especially one that made her heartbeat race!

Oh, she felt her cheeks warming. She wouldn't blush, would she? What would-

"Port or starboard? Pick one!" the captain suddenly snarled at her.

"Uh…" Amelia frowned. "Why?"

"I'll let you choose which side of the ship we hang you from after you spill everything you know, human spy." The last two words were punctuated with little jabs of the cutlass, now millimetres from Amelia's nose.

Well, this job interview was going rather badly!

She would need to fix this quickly.

"I like your horns!" Amelia said with a smile and tilt of her head.

The demon captain opened her mouth and then closed it, a moment of confusion flashing over her face. This was excellent, as it meant Amelia's cuteness had started to come across to the angry demon! Now was the time to push the attack!

"I mean, they're super intimidating, of course! If that's what you're going for… but they're also really pretty, you know? Can I touch them? Please!?" Amelia made sure to flash her best let's-be-friends grin.

The captain and her guards were stunned. For a few moments, the captain's quarters were silent apart from a faint chuckling coming from Anathor. Maybe the compliment was badly timed, but after feeling so good after so many years of feeling bad, Amelia felt like she wanted to be nice to everyone!

"You…" the captain began slowly. "The Republic must be getting desperate to send a mad human to spy after me. Ran out of sane assassins, did they?" The captain punctuated her point by tightening her grip.

"I'm not a spy! Or an assassin!" Amelia protested. "I'm a healer! Would you like to hire me… perhaps?" In response, the cutlass poked her nose a little. Her skin wouldn't be so easily pierced with the ward active, but Amelia could sense this captain had some real ability. Now that she looked, she saw the demon was glowing with a subtle red aura.

Of course, if it came to it, Amelia was sure she could Speak the First-Word, but that would destroy the captain's quarters, if not the ship itself! If they were really flying, no, sailing through the skies, then she would rather not condemn the crew to death!

Although… she should have the skills to protect them.

"Captain," Anathor piped up, interrupting Amelia's train of thought. "Perhaps we should not be so hasty in our judgment. Perhaps we should confine this human below and have a discussion about how to proceed."

"Anathor," the captain dryly intoned, not moving her eyes from Amelia. "The human is a spy or an assassin. There is no reason to keep her alive."

"Hmmm… the Vengeance has suggested otherwise."

The captain's eyes widened, briefly snapping to the moose before settling back on Amelia.

"The… ship spoke to you?"

"Yes."

Amelia couldn't believe her ears! Not just a flying ship, but a talking one!? What a strange place Amelia had found herself in! There were no flying or talking ships in the game!

The captain kept glaring at her for a few more seconds.

Amelia grinned back.

Somehow, she just knew this demon wouldn't harm a single golden hair on her adorable head.

"Take her below!" ordered the captain. "Kill her if she resists!" At her command, several more demon soldiers appeared. These were male and, despite their horns being larger, Amelia thought they were much less impressive than the beautiful pair the captain sported.

She allowed them to put her in chains and a sack on her head. She soon found herself lifted off the ground and being carried away.

It seemed they didn't even trust her to walk.

Serena examined the office and her desk for any traps or missing documents. The desk drawers didn't appear to have been opened and she couldn't see the telltale marks of any lockpicking tools.

Anathor had told her as much. He'd been notifying her of the spy's activities the moment he had discovered her. Still, Serena didn't fully trust his recollection of events, especially as he couldn't tell her how the human had bypassed so many locked doors and guards to get into her quarters.

"I don't understand. How can you, the guardian of this ship, not know how she got in here? You see everything."

"Hmm…" the stuffed head mumbled. "The human was not here and then she was."

"Did you see her arrive?" Serena sniffed. "The moment it happened?" For a moment, she thought she caught the scent of something burning, but it was gone before she could identify it.

"No… and there was no change in the aetherfield. I don't understand it myself. A realm-shift makes the most sense… but there are very few beings capable of hiding that from my eyes, Captain." Anathor was quiet for a few moments before continuing, "And… even if I was fooled, no power could fool the ship. If this human were a true threat to us, it would have expelled her."

Serena raised an eyebrow. "A threat to us or the ship? It has allowed assassins to board before." Anathor didn't seem to have a response to that. His connection to the ship was only slightly more reliable than her own. Serena waved a dismissive hand. "Enough about the ship. Tell me again how she behaved when you first saw her."

"She moved… as if she was unfamiliar with her body. At first, she was hesitant in every motion, like your injured soldiers with grievous wounds. The human seemed delighted to find she could move. She did not behave like a spy or an assassin."

Serena sat in her chair, tilted her head to the side, and began tapping one of her horns in a rhythmic motion.

"And then?" she asked.

"She seemed surprised at her hair and body. She rushed to examine them in detail in the mirror. She was excited. Relieved. As if it was her first time in a new body."

"Oh? A potential realm-shifter and now a darkblade? Come now, Anathor. We are reaching fantastical levels of theory over a mere human. Tell me of the spells she cast."

"A low-level defensive spell, silently cast, so she should be at minimum a second-circle mage. However, she cancelled it not long after. Hmm… no, it's unlikely…"

"What? Speak your mind, Anathor."

"When the spell was cancelled… the aether was unusual. There was no dissipation into the aetherfield from the residual aether. She might just be a talented second-circle capable of cycling the residue aether or…" Anathor trailed off.

"Or she didn't cancel it. She cloaked it," Serena finished Anathor's line of thought.

"Hmm… if she can cloak even a low-level spell to that degree, then it's likely she's third-circle. And if she's third-circle, then…" Anathor's eyes flashed. "There's a chance she knows the First-Word, Captain."

Serena wanted to dismiss the possibility, but her dutiful military mind entertained the possibility. It was rare for a demon to be a Speaker of the Words, and even rarer for a human. It was improbable such a young human could Speak, but… it was not without precedent. And if she could Speak, then Serena had to wrestle with the fact the ship allowed her to board.

Which meant the human wasn't a threat to the ship.

Suddenly, a memory of her encounter sprang to mind.

"Anathor, what is she doing now?"

"She's in the cell, uh… stretching."

"Stretching?"

"Yes, Captain, and now… she's doing push-ups. Tomes and Dagon are watching her."

Serena shook her head. Was her captured human just an idiot after all?

"Does she have a cut on her nose?" she asked. "Any blood?"

"Hmm… no Captain."

Serena felt her eye twitch. She was skilled with the blade, and she'd definitely given that smug-looking human a poke with her cutlass. If she wasn't bleeding then the chance that the human had a cloaked defensive spell active was suddenly uncomfortably high. Clicking her tongue, Serena communicated her thoughts to Anathor.

"Hmm… time for you two to have another conversation. Not many leagues till we're at battle stations."

"Yes." Serena found herself nodding. "A little interrogation to answer some questions."

"Try less interrogation, more conversation if possible, Captain… best not to have any Words Spoken on the ship, by either that mystery human or you."