Chapter Twenty Five

  Caire

  The view of the mainland from Esselem never got old. It felt like something that had to be computer generated. Pale green grass dotted the top of the sheer cliffs. Small groups of Fable-Walkers hiked up and down the rocky terrain. While others stopped in the grass patches for a picnic lunch. The real world couldn’t be this beautiful.

  Or maybe Freya had just never paid enough attention.

  The Unbound crossed the bridge. Steam rose from the magically warmed stones, leaving a thin chalky layer of sea salt behind. A familiar stone arch stood off the path at the end of the bridge. Freya paused before the arch. Maybe…

  Her description window popped up in front of the arch.

  Item: Waystation Arch

  Description: A portal to the Travel Agent’s Waystation. A captialist attempt-

  The window blinked in and out of existence a few times, duplicated hundreds of times. Filling the space all around Freya with copies of the same half-finished description. The Windows XP error ping sounded with each new window. Freya stood deathly still in the makeshift room the windows had fashioned for her. That was not what she had expected.

  Thunder cracked, and the windows shuddered. Lorin, he was trying to get through. They should be intangible, people should be able to pass through them. Why would they turn solid? Freya tried to click the red X on one of the windows. A sound like a computer fan holding on for dear life cut through the endless error pings. All of the windows morphed into a single blue screen.

  Kill them all.

  Then the screens vanished. Her friends, and even Molly surrounded her with concern written plain on their faces.

  “Are you okay?” Lorin asked. His hands coming to rest a little too eagerly on her sides.

  “I’m fine. What the hell was that?”

  “Some objects can be hexed to prevent information from being gathered about them. Usually when met with the LitRPG description system it forces the window closed or it comes up blank. I suspect your hitchhiker didn’t want to take that lying down,” Athena said.

  “Great.”

  No point in getting hung up on it now. Freya sighed, then stepped through the archway. The world went white and they were back in the Waystation. This group of travel agents stood around a ghostly couch shouting at what was probably another travel agent. At first she considered intervening on his behalf, but then she found out why he was in this position. Evidently they were having an intervention for him after he said that the Malazan series was ‘a bloated mess’. Suddenly Freya felt the urge to join the other agents in berating him.

  The seated man took their arrival as an excuse to get out of the hot seat for a moment. “Where can we send you?”

  “Caire.” Freya wanted this to be as quick as possible, she had no plans on letting him get out of his grilling. “With haste.”

  The man counted the Unbound, mouthing the numbers. “Seven. A page each.”

  As previously arranged Roman handed over the pages. The man tapped on the stone arch standing starkly against the white foreground of the Waystation. The runes glowed and the image of a quiet grey field beside a river materialized. The sky was overcast. Without another word Freya led the group into the portal.

  They emerged into the field of grey grass beside the river. Freya took in the somewhat warm and humid air. It was a nice change of pace from Esselem. The Institute was near as cold as winter in Wisconsin. Something other than that was welcome, though this place did still have a certain chill to it.

  Roman had explained that Caire was a small fishing village that wasn’t affiliated with any nation. Though in recent years the town had become something of a trading hub for the region. When Sulivar conquered the Bluffs, the sister cities of Hathmore agreed on a single course for essentially the first time in their history. They banned any imports or direct trade with the Bluffs. So a wise fisherman welcomed in traders from both the Bluffs and Hathmore. All trade goods become property of Caire’s Fisherlord, when on the town’s property. As a result when trades occur, they are happening between buyers and the Fisherlord.

  This was why Freya never had an interest in politics. It makes zero damn sense. Why bother with the rule if they were just going to let some little riverside hovel circumvent it?

  “Hang back with me a minute?” Lorin asked.

  Freya stopped, the others noticed, but she just waved them on. They both got a few odd looks, curiosity from Zora and Roman, distaste from Molly, disinterest from Athena. Freya wanted to shrink into a ball beneath their gazes. But after a moment they all started for the small village situated at the mouth of the river.

  “I don’t like how they are getting about that,” Freya said.

  “No reason to give their speculations any life. Nothing has happened between us yet.”

  “Yet?” Freya’s chest warmed. This idiot. “Getting a little confident aren’t you?”

  “Can’t help it.” Lorin pulled something long and thin out of one of his bag of holding. The thing was wrapped in thin sheets. “For you.”

  Freya took the bundle. “What is it?”

  “Usually people open the present to find out what they’ve gotten.”

  “Alright smartass.” Freya untied the rope binding the sheet in place. It fell away with the rope, revealing a rapier. The thin blade was so pale it nearly glowed. It reminded her of the color of the sword Dawn from A Song of Ice and Fire. The handguard was a mix of darkened steel and the strange white material, it was beautiful. The blade was surprisingly light in her hands.

  “Holy shit, this is incredible.”

  “The blade is bound to you. You can summon it to your hand. It has the slightest magnetic field, you can focus that so arrows are attracted to the blade, or better, make the swing of someone’s blade go wild. Most importantly though, the blade will pulse with red light if you are in any immediate danger.”

  Freya’s earth sense felt something within the blade. “What is it made of?”

  “They call it star metal. Really just meteorite with a neat color.”

  Freya threw the blade, then called it back to her, it angled itself handle-first toward her, then shot back. The sword stung her hand as it slapped against her open palm.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  Now it was time to test her next theory. She willed the bits of rock within the blade to hold their position, just like she did with the stone soldiers. She let go, leaving the blade to wobble uncertainly in the air.

  “Oh this is going to be great!” Freya desperately tried not to jump up and down for joy. Instead she threw her arms around Lorin. “Thank you.”

  Roman tensed for a moment, making Freya fear she had made a mistake. But then he loosened, squeezing her tightly. “I’m glad you like it.”

  The warmth of the embrace made all her worries fall away. The only thing that mattered for a few glorious seconds was this. The clatter of the sword hitting the ground broke the moment, she cursed herself. She hadn’t been focusing on keeping the sword aloft. Freya pulled away, feeling her cheeks go hot.

  “I just need to get used to balancing it with my power.”

  Lorin nudged her with his elbow. “I was told it would be a little awkward at first, but eventually the positioning of the bits of earth will give you the most control possible.”

  “You really need to stop.”

  Lorin paled. “Stop?”

  “Yes, this was very thoughtful, intelligent gift. There is only room for one of us in this relationship with a brain.”

  “Relationship? When did we decide we had one of those?”

  Freya started toward the fishing village and the massive market that surrounded it. Her new sword floating at her side. “Just now. Come on, we can’t let the other morons figure it out.”

  #

  Figuring a name for the sword proved harder than Freya thought. She briefly considered naming it after some fantasy swords she particularly liked. Elucidator, Vasilis, and Sting were all considered. None of them seemed right.

  She turned the pale rapier over in her hands, what was she thinking? Elucidator was black. Just ripping the name of some sword she liked wouldn’t do. This was hers, made special for her. Freya looked over at Lorin, his eyes glowed blue while he surveyed the countryside. Yes, this sword was special. It needed a special name.

  Freya tossed a few more names about in her head. Epee? No that was stupid, no different than naming the thing sword. Something that applied to her current situation and feelings would be better. She looked again at Lorin and smiled, he was still focused on…whatever it was he was doing.

  Maybe Passion? Barf, not a chance. Freya almost wanted to smack herself for the thought. What was she trying to do? What was her purpose? With Sulivar’s visit she found herself uncertain in her aims. The man seemed downright reasonable. Outside of the casual threat to murder all of her friends of course. He promised to handle her stalker, and since their chat the figure has been absent.

  Then she thought of Sarehole, the comfortable life she dreamed of there. Waking in her own little Hobbit hole, to then decide between some great adventure or just enjoying a quiet day with adoring fans. That is what she was fighting for. Freya held up the sword. It shined brilliantly despite the clouds overhead.

  Serenity. Its name was Serenity. While not exactly original, after all, the titular ship in Firefly had the same name, that wasn’t the inspiration for Freya. She slid the sword in its black sheath to her belt opposite the blade the Gardener had given her.

  That one should probably have a name too. Despite Lorin’s gift being undeniably better, she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of the other one. In fact, she was certain she could find a way to make them both work for her. Maybe have it enchanted in some complimentary way?

  The rest of the Unbound were waiting for them at the edge of the first line of tents. The scale of the marketplace seemed far greater up close than it did from a distance. What she had thought was the town, was actually a giant flea market. These tents, like rustic versions of a carnival tent, were easily fifteen feet tall at their edges, and closer to twenty or twenty five at their peaked centers.

  They weren’t all exactly the same size, but the vast majority were fairly close to that range. There were something like twenty tents between this outer edge and the border of the old fishing village this place had once been. How were they going to keep track of anything in here?

  “Old Hester has been doing well for herself. The market wasn’t half this size last time,” Roman said.

  “Ridiculous they even go through the effort for this farce,” Molly said.

  For once Freya found herself agreeing with the eternally disagreeable woman.

  “This is really all traders from Hathmore and the Bluffs?” Freya’s estimation of the size of these places must have been way off.

  “No,” Athena said, writing out a list for herself with spectral letters in the air. “Even if the war ended today, this place wouldn’t go away. Merchants all the way from Orodelion and Ythelmar travel here. Caire has effectively become the Harbor’s biggest shopping mall.”

  The thought piqued Freya’s interest. This place was probably made up of the Harbor’s first people. It would be good to get a sense of what the real people here were like. The only real interaction she had with merchants was back in The Gate that first day she emerged. It felt like a lifetime ago now. She could finally interact with them and see what sort of things they thought were worth selling.

  Zora cleared her throat, gathering everyone’s attention. “Something we forgot to do earlier. We should all tap into the LitRPGers chat system and add each other.”

  “This is supposed to be Fantasy Harbor. If those idiots want to have a chat system they should go to the Sci-Fi Harbor,” Molly said.

  Lorin rested a hand on the small of Molly’s back. Freya’s cheeks instantly went white-hot. “Our Witcher’s right. If you don’t like it you can turn it off when we are done. But the advantage instant communication gives us is too much to turn down.”

  Molly frowned. “Fine. But it is getting shut off right after.”

  All the relationships were so hard to keep straight. Freya wished she had a little more time before they did this. It felt like she hardly knew anything. Obviously Lorin and Molly were close. How? Why? For how long?

  All questions she would have loved answers to before going to battle with them. Or getting too close with Lorin. It didn’t seem like they had been a romantic item. Still it was hard to understand how anyone could be remotely friendly with that grouch.

  “How many pages?” Lorin asked.

  “If you have already tapped into some aspect of the LitRPG system, five pages. If not, six,” Zora said.

  Freya felt at her own source of power with growing unease. She needed to find a way to get more pages. At this pace she was going to run herself dry by the end of the month. It didn’t matter now though. Communication was key. She followed along that spectral thread leading from her description system out into the greater network of pages. She imagined a simple chat system, and her own pages latched on to something out there, thickening the line leading away from her.

  She felt something new, but familiar. Like another tickle in the back of her mind. She focused on it and a window appeared in front of her. It had the same bulbous blue trim as her other screens. Freya couldn’t help but laugh at what was within.

  “Skype? Really?”

  “I’ve got AIM,” Lorin said.

  “MSN Messenger.” Molly let out a brief wistful smile.

  “Windows Live Messenger,” Zora said.

  “I hated that name change so much.” Molly’s brief flicker of happiness vanished quick as it had come.

  Athena shook her head. “You are all so…young.” She flipped around her window, which showed a DOS based IRC chat.

  “Pretty sure you’re just old,” Freya said.

  Athena smiled. “Yeah, probably.”

  Roman was well separated from the group, his window closed out before Freya could get a look at it. The rest of the group also noticed and closed in on him.

  “Spill Taylor. What did you get?” Freya asked.

  “Just AIM instant messenger, like Lorin.”

  The paladin leaned in. “You lie. AIM means AOL Instant Messenger. Anyone who actually used it would know that.”

  Roman inched toward Zora. “It really isn’t a big deal.”

  Zora pushed him back toward the group. “I don’t think so. Like our friendly Bookworm said, spill.”

  Roman groaned, then opened a window. “I hate all of you.”

  The screen didn’t hold anything obviously embarrassing from what Freya could tell. There was an image of a large iceberg with a blue bar at the bottom that had an option for a friends list, a little chat bubble, and the image of an igloo. It looked more like an MMO chat than anything else. The whole thing seemed familiar, but there was something off that Freya couldn’t quite place.

  Zora took a closer look, then smiled so wide Freya feared her face might crack in two. “Oh my god. Actually?”

  “Shut up Zora.”

  “You know, I should have figured you were a Club Penguin kid.”

  Freya looked from Zora to Roman. “You’re shitting me.”

  But sure enough, an angry looking penguin decked out with a sword and Dungeon Crawler Carl themed shield popped into existence on the iceberg. It walked to the center of Roman’s screen. A speech bubble appeared above it’s head. The text was recorded in a separate sub window.

  Molly Erickson: ‘Filtered Word’ you Roman.

  They all laughed, would they get banned from Roman’s chat if they said too many naughty words to him?

  “Alright alright, you all get your laughs in?” Roman scrunched up his nose at their still giggling friends. Then closed the window.

  “Everyone message each other through your chats. I’ll create a message for the group as a whole. Zora, did you want to get into what we are doing next?”

  Zora stepped up, being in the spotlight wasn’t really her thing, but you wouldn’t be able to tell from the way she talked. “Athena already knows what she is going for. Roman and Molly will go hunting for some invisibility gear and more specific consumables. I will go search out supplies for the trek south. The rest of you can take some time to refresh your gear and get any specialty supplies you may need. Don’t forget food and some basic comfort items. You can’t just load up on weapons.” She gave Lorin a pointed look. “I’ve arranged for rooms at The Shark’s Bile, we can regroup there at sundown tonight.”

  The group fanned out between the tents. Freya looked around the seemingly endless vendor stands, this was going to be fun.