Lieforged Gale

 

“You and your shitty friends can have fun with your tree,” Marlon said after a couple of moments of silence. “Me and my guild got places to be. Got a queen to meet, after all.”

With the duel being cancelled, all our wounds had been healed and our gear repaired, so it would've been a simple thing to start again. Personally, though, I wasn't inclined to. I'd made my point, or rather, I'd interrupted their point.

Rather than reply, I just shrugged and turned away, ready to make for the inn’s taproom. A few of the crowd voiced their disappointment, but most people were busy talking about the announcement.

That was apparently unacceptable to Arca who let out a loud huff of indignation. She looked like she was about to speak, but my mum cut in over the top of her, “Hey, Vesuvia! Find us a bunch of booze and we'll party up in the inn.”

Oh dear. My mother was a little crazy. I think, maybe, there was also a part of her that was cutting loose—She no longer had to worry about her child on life support, or rent, or any of the other general mundane problems that an adult had to deal with.

“Righto, Fiona!” The amazonian leader of the gladiator guild called back. “I'll send some of my people up to play bouncer.”

Oh, that was a good idea. Also a good idea—Leaving before Arca could continue to cause problems. Wings whirring, I buzzed up to land on the outer porch that ringed the bottom floor of the inn.

“Good job, Keiko,” Ethan said, patting me on the back as soon as I arrived. “I like the part where you stabbed him in the dick. Too bad pain is capped in Rell.”

“I just wanted to distract everyone,” I shrugged. Hopefully nobody noticed how much I was shaking. Marlon was an asshole, and he was a liar, and he was a manipulator, but none of those things were what made him scary. He was terrifying because he was all of those things and smart, and skilled, and cunning. This wasn't going to be the end of things, I just knew it.

“Uh, Fiona?” Paisley asked in a small voice. “This might just be anxiety talking, but is Willow actually a guild vehicle right now?”

My mother, who was watching us all with an unreadable expression, nodded and smiled. “Yes, I made sure of it. I'm adding everyone from that guild as banned persons, just to be safe. They can't hurt us or anyone else inside the boundary of the vehicle.”

“Unless they declare war,” I muttered darkly. “Then they can turn those ballistae on us from way high up and there isn't shit we can do to stop them.”

 

Hundreds of players were packed into the massive taproom of our inn, and it was clear that the Galloping Willow Inn was a hit. I even saw Doug over in a corner, chatting away to his friends. God, it felt like forever since I met him, back during my first day as Keiko.

Over at the bar, mum and two of her friends were happily serving drinks—chatting to anyone and everyone as they did so. They were also making quite a lot of coin in the process. Apparently people were willing to pay a few extra coppers for their pint just to be here.

Beneath us all, Willow was rumbling happily as she slurped up the magic water of Ardgour. I was a little concerned about that, to be honest. She said it tasted, ‘fizzy’, and, ‘a little spicy’, which had me wondering if she'd get indigestion from the ostensibly holy water, since she was undead.

As for me, I was avoiding the crowds in a corner while I stared at two levels and the associated points that I needed to spend. The battle had drowned us in experience, pushing me all the way to level thirty. It was an exciting milestone—Half-way to max level—and I was excited to see how my class would continue to evolve.

Anyway, of the stat points, two went into Intelligence, as I was starting to stare into the realm of mana starvation during combat, which wasn’t good. The next two, I put into Athleticism, because getting hit by Marlon’s shield had sucked, and the easiest way to stop that was to be even faster. Once that was done, I took a moment to look at my stats.

Kyosei Keiko: Level 30

Strength: 16 — (13+2+1)
Athleticism: 17
Dexterity: 21

Stamina: 20 — (12+2+6)
Constitution: 3

Intelligence: 4 — (3+0+1)
Wisdom: 3 — (1+0+2)

Resolve: 2 — (1+0+1)

Focus: 17 — (8+0+9)

Note: Bracketed numbers are base, then training bonuses, then gear bonuses, that combine to create the total bold number. This can be hidden using the checkbox at the bottom of the page.

My Intelligence was still too low—It’d take more than a total of four to get me the mana I needed, but it was a start. I liked how high my Focus had jumped, though. That Brinewyrm Ring was doing some serious work there.

On the abilities side of the equation, I had three to spend and three newly unlocked abilities to look at.

Dreamspeed
Passive. Increases your Athleticism further, beyond mundane means. +5% Athleticism per point spent.

Wyrmbolt
Thrust with your weapon to create a thin bolt of attuned magical energy.

Petal Swarm
Throw a swarm of attuned razor sharp petals with limited tracking at your enemies.

They all sounded like great and interesting abilities, but the problem was that most of my other abilities were also blinking with a new aura around them. I knew exactly what it was, as it was a pretty normal part of how classes worked in Rellithesh. Ever since I’d gained my class evolution, I’d also gained the opportunity to invest an ability point in upgrading them to better synergise with my new theme. In this case, I could give the attuned damage and effects I was seeing on my new abilities to the old ones too. So, unfortunately for the three new juicy looking abilities, I had some staples to upgrade. Larkspur Strike, Imbue Strike, and Ascendant Slice all got the attuned treatment, adding acidic damage to them. Imbue Strike was especially important, because my sword had turned it into a passive while I was wielding it, so it basically meant that every attack I made would deliver additional acid damage.

Finally, I had the last trait point to spend on my sword. Unfortunately, this was apparently where the game decided to give me a big old middle finger. None of the actual trait options had any descriptions besides their names. The other option for the point, was that I could use it to increase the raw stats of the weapon itself. Which, honestly, didn’t sound so bad considering how cool my sword already was. I mean, I could control it with my mind, now. Why not indulge and give it some extra raw damage. Yeah, that’s the best bet, that’s what I’ll do. Damage, it is.

“Keiko!” Paisley said, enthusiastically planting herself beside me, mug of ale in her hand. “You talk a lot of shit ‘bout Aragorn cosplayers, but here you are hiding and drinking in the corner!”

It didn't seem like either of us was drunk, but at least for me, I had a little buzz, loosening my muscles somewhat. I was glad she was still sober, I don't think I could've handled drunk Paisley right then

I gave a half-hearted laugh and tapped my own mug to hers. “I'm just tired. Too many people here.”

“Oh, right,” she said, giving me a knowing look.

There it was—she remembered how I felt about big crowds. Don't get me wrong, parties were great, but only for like, an hour or two. After that, they were just too loud, and people were too drunk, and too many people just wanted to talk at me.

“We could… escape to the crafter's hall? I bet the stones are still warm,” she suggested after a couple of seconds of people-watching. “Or back to your apartment…”

My head darted up and I stared at her as she trailed off, but she flushed suddenly and shook her head. “Not like that! Your place is cosy, though. That's what I meant—Cosy and quiet.”

“Apartment, I think,” I said after taking a heartbeat to think.

She shuffled out of the booth so I could follow, and when we were standing, I took her hand and used my Escape Stone.

As soon as we landed in the coatroom, I groaned and swore as the fact that I'd just reset my Return Point caused me to realise something. “Damn it! We left all our stuff in the clearing where the tree was! We weren't done building but the expansion is already out.”

“Oh crud, yeah,” Paisley said with a wry giggle. Then, her eyes lit up. “Considering how active Willow was today, maybe we could get her to hold all the materials with her branches. Then we could build the inn while we're on the move. If she's awake, that is.”

My eyebrows rose as I considered the idea. “Yeah, I could see that working. She could even help lift things into place so Noah and I don't have to feel ridiculous lifting wooden beams that are twenty times our size.”

“That's right,” she said excitedly, but she quickly dampened her enthusiasm. “Oh, sorry, I'm being too intense, aren't I?”

My reply to that question was a gentle shake of my head and a little smile.

“Let's go sit down and chill,” I said, nodding to the exit from the coatroom.

We arrived in the main room, only to hear… intriguing sounds coming from Elena's side of the partition. I heard my roommate's gasping breaths, but the murmured whispers were from a voice I didn't recognise.

With wide eyes, both Paisley and I rushed away and back into the coatroom. I stopped there, but my friend took my hand and pulled me out and into the apartment complex hallway. Wordlessly, I followed behind as she led me to another door. She opened it, pushed me in, then followed.

It was the apartment she shared with Ethan and Noah, which I hadn't actually been inside yet. It was mostly the same as mine, but without the big bathtub, or the library. It also had actual bedrooms, which we became thankful for when we rounded the corner that led into the living room, only to hear two more voices.

Ethan and Noah were sitting on a sofa together. It faced the other way, so we could only see their heads, but they were both resting their cheeks against the backrest of the sofa, and their faces were barely inches apart. Oh no!

Paisley grabbed my hand again, and I was pulled back into the hallway. I was confused where she intended to put me for a second, until I found myself pushed gently backwards into one of the bedrooms. Her bedroom. The door closed with a gentle click, and we were alone.

Oh-okay! Elena was having some fun. That was surprising, since despite talking a big game, she was more than a little shy when it came to actually initiating that kind of thing. Then there was Ethan and Noah, getting very close on the sofa out there. That was actually pretty damned cute.

“Oh, my god,” Paisley breathed, back against the door.

“Well, that was…” I said, trailing off awkwardly.

Paisley's eyes fixed on me, and her brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

I blinked. “Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?”

“Your… um, Elena was with… someone else?” She asked, her words falling off into an uncertain question.

I laughed softly, then it grew into a full little giggle as I shook my head. “Elena and I were never exclusive. I'm just never really looking, and she's too shy to approach a stranger.”

“She's shy? Really?” She asked, surprised. “I figured she'd be, like… more confident about that, since she, I don't know, seems very sexually… I don't know…”

Shrugging, I motioned a wordless question towards the bed. Paisley nodded, so we sat down.

“Elena is… a complex person. She either struggles with or can't feel romantic stuff, but she also enjoys cuddling and kissing and all that. I have to admit, I'm actually not entirely compatible with that kind of friendship—It’s a bit too out-there for me, but when it was just the two of us, it was cool. Maybe I'm a little repressed or a puritan or something—” I trailed off, giving my friend a helpless look. “I honestly forgot the point I was trying to make.”

Paisley giggled and spasmed a hand in my direction before quickly pulling it back. She cleared her throat. “Um. I said she seemed like she'd be more confident—dominant, whatever.”

I clicked a finger. “Yeah! She can be very dominant and confident, right up until she gets too wrapped up in her own head. Then she's suddenly second-guessing herself and it's kind of a trainwreck after that. Then I'll have to— uh, stuff—”

I trailed off and my cheeks heated. Watching my feet bounce on the bedframe as they moved on their own, I listened as Paisley thought through what I was saying.

“That's… that makes sense,” she said after a second. “I can't imagine what life would be like in her shoes. Seems like she's doing okay, though, so I guess that's all that matters.”

I snorted and nodded. “She's alarmingly put together for a gay, uh, queer—Yeah, a queer person. A few self confidence issues and the usual confusion over the unique way her brain works, but happy and living life otherwise.”

“That's good,” Paisley said, then grinned. “I know I'm not ‘put-together’. I am the absolute queen of overthinking shit. Like, whoa! Then, suddenly, I don't think things through enough!”

I stifled a bark of laughter with a hand, and eyes twinkling, I replied, “Yeah, can't say you've ever come across as a paragon of sanity or confidence.”

A pout formed on her pretty red lips. “That's very rude. I am—okay, who needs sanity anyway—but, I can be confident! I can even be dominant!”

Oh my god. Adorable.

I couldn't help it, but the sentiment slipped out. “You're so cute! Look at those eyes, so full of determination. Little dark pearls of confidence right there.”

Outrage darkened her expression further, and the pout she'd been wearing intensified. Then, something else sparked in her eyes, and that was about all the warning I got.

She moved, standing up with swift purpose. A moment later, and she was standing before me, hands catching mine. There was a little pause there, as she lifted them above my head. I was too shocked to stop her, and honestly, I didn't want to. Her stare burned me with an intensity I'd never seen there before, and when—in that brief split second of motion—I still didn't resist, she pushed me onto my back.

Her knees were on either side of my hips, my hands were pinned to the bed above my head, and her face was inches from mine. The whole manoeuvre had taken barely three seconds, and ho-boy was I gasping for air like it'd been a marathon.

“Say that again,” she whispered, her adorable rounded cheeks all bundled up as she grinned at me. “I can definitely be dominant.”

Well now, looked like my big mouth had gotten me in trouble again. God damn, and that little move had been executed perfectly. So well timed—Like, I'd had the full ability to stop her the whole time, and she was so gentle—Oh, and she didn't trigger the game's consent enforcement protocols!

She licked her lips, and suddenly I was no longer the teasing girl I'd been even after she pushed me flat. It all fled, because suddenly it felt like we'd exited the realm of tipsy banter and into the— Oh fuck, she was so close, her lips were so red, and there was this sweet ache in my heart that grew with every breath I took.

“Paisley,” I whispered, because all I could say or think was her name.

She threw herself off me, so fast that it happened literally in the blink of an eye. No! No… god fucking damn it Paisley!

“Oh my god, oh my god, I'm so sorry!” She squeaked, backing up against a wall opposite me.

Sitting up, I tried to collect my fuzzy thoughts like a stuffed toy trying to insert its own stuffing back into its body. “What?” I murmured.

“That was such a weird thing to do to a friend!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Tears were collecting in the corners of her eyes. “I could've just said that I could be dominant, but no, I wanted to… to… whatever the heck that was.”

Slowly, almost methodically, my thoughts began to click into place like vast, continental-scale puzzle pieces. I discovered, to my surprise, that I was angry. Frustrated, confused, tired, and angry.

For a single moment, I considered telling her—probably by yelling—that I was upset and angry that she hadn't kissed me. God, I'd wanted it so bad.

That moment passed by, however, so I just stood up, deflated and just… done, and I turned for the door. Paisley didn't stop me. When I got there, I turned the handle and paused. “The game didn't detect a lack of consent, Paisley. You gave me enough opportunity to stop you.”

“...huh?” Came her soft, bemused reply.

I closed my eyes with a tired sigh, then pushed out and left her room.