Morningstar

Near the top of The Eye, you could find the most perfect sunsets. So many colours mixed and matched. Visually symphonic. Willow napped to his left. She snored loudly; he didn’t have the heart to tell her. Despite the sky’s beauty, his eyes were locked on the final entry of a short, leatherbound journal. Silently, he read to himself. Morningstar, The years I spent in this world taught me three things: Hold your friends in high regard, Be kind, even when it is difficult, And stay away from shady taverns. I learned all of these from you. You’re smart, and yet th

Elwood shut the door, humming a low, quiet tune. He took a mop from his closet and brought it to the living room to clean up the spilled tea. The house felt massive without a guest. Once more, he was a king, alone in his castle. He stepped over broken glass, kneeling down to pick up the pieces. Then, when all but the tea had been moved to the table, he began mopping from one end of the mess to the other. There was something serene about cleaning. He would miss it. Or, maybe he would feel nothing at all. Who was to say? The teapot remained warm to touch. He poured himself another cup

Dumbfounded, he looked up. “Why?” “Because you’re my best friend,” Elwood stated plainly. “And I’ve read them both about a hundred times,” he chuckled. Star smiled sadly. “Well, thank you.” “Of course. You know, I saw Joaquin just a few days ago.” “Really? He didn’t mention it,” Star said, a tad surprised. “Yes. In Tomoika. He was haggling with a merchant, I think. He must be confident to lowball a dwarf.” Star laughed for the first time that night. They chatted well into the night, until it was time for Morningstar to leave. On his way out the

Elwood stood, like he’d forgotten something. He hurried into the next room, leaving Star to stare into an empty hallway and listen while he scrounged through piles of books. When he came back, he was holding two. “I have a gift for you. A couple, actually. I know you like to read. I also know that Ronbaru’s collection is rather dull. System generated fiction is… well, it lacks that bit of humanness that makes stories special. We’re lucky to have a few real authors among us, though.” Elwood held out a thick hardcover, plain but for a title and the author’s name. It was a faded shade of pur

“I’m tired, Stephen. Sit, please. Let’s talk.” Star agreed, but moved to clean up his mess before sitting. Elwood waved his hand, a quick flick of the wrist, as if to brush away the thought. “Ah, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal. Leave it, and I’ll clean it up later.” “No, it’s my fault. I insist.” “Really, don’t bother. I don’t care. It’s just a bit of tea.” He tiptoed over the spread of cold liquid, taking a seat in the cushy chair. His hands were clammy, like they’d always get before a big show. Staring at his friend made him woozy. “What the fuck,” was all he

His chest was tight; restricted, like a bird in a cage. It was only a bad dream, he realized. He pinched himself on the hand. Nothing. He tried again. “It’s not a dream, Stephen. I wish it were, but it’s not.” Star spun, bumping the table. “It has to be! You can’t die!” Shattered pieces of porcelain littered the floor, and tea spilled out like thin amber blood. He stared down, taken aback by the sound it made. It was an explosion. Sharp, jagged fragments all separated from one whole. It was wrong. Elwood pulled him back to his senses. “But I will. And soon, I think.” “

"I'm glad I helped you out that day in the Town of Beginnings. You know, in that tavern. We've been through a lot, you and I. Who could have anticipated any of it?" Elwood stared up at the ceiling, crossing one leg over the other. A deadlock between anger, grief, and love waged on within Star. Part of him wanted to throw himself into a pit of monsters and another wanted to die there. The stronger part wished to be there for his friend, and so he stayed. He stood from the chair and stepped up to the window. The glass, covered in a sheet of rain, was difficult to see through. Beneath the st

"Do you see why I'm scared?" Yes. At any moment, Elwood could simply disappear. There was nothing Morningstar could do to stop it; no item in the game that could keep him safe from the dark destiny that gripped his friend so tightly. Morningstar had always imagined himself by Elwood's side at the peak of the castle, the one-hundredth floor. In an instant, that dream came crumbling down. He understood why Elwood was so afraid. He had found a home in Aincrad. To leave it for problems of a world in which he only existed in body… "I'm sorry," Morningstar finally said. "Don't

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"You aren’t him," Morningstar said, his face straight. "I am. Really, we all are. Nothing can last forever, Stephen. Not even a fraudulent king like me." Fraudulent was a harsh adjective to use. He was as close to a king as a player could become.. His guildhall was even a castle, and the members who lived there were loyal to no one but him. He was no fraud. "Sure, but that’s out of our control. Why run from it?" "You’re right. I am running." Elwood smiled, but his eyes told a different story. "I have a brain tumor, Star." In that moment, Morningstar's face revealed not

What came out was, "what are you so afraid of?" It made Elwood laugh and, just for a second, the tension lifted. "I've come to enjoy this world. I hated it for years for what it took from me, and now I thank it for what I've been given. For you, my friend. For my guild. I've found family, in a way—and that's something I haven't known in a very long time. And I know that I’ll come to lose it." There was a poem that Elwood had once recited. He tried to remember the words to it but they were a mess inside his cluttered mind. 'I met a traveler from an antique land,' it started. But

Elwood's glossy eyes were fixed on the rain that pitter-pattered against the glass panes. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. Morningstar refrained from breaking the silence by adding to his statement, hoping to get some sort of reaction from his friend and mentor. It was unlike the man to leave his guild members for any amount of time, prolonged or otherwise. Sources told him that Elwood had been away for a month. Where was he all that time? What was he doing? And why wait so long to message Star? "I suppose," Elwood paused dramatically, "fate is finally catching up to me." Om

Tomoika: one of many underdark settlements on the twenty-first floor. Star avoided it when he could; he wasn't a fan of the air quality, nor of the dwarves that lived there. Of course, this meant that quests accessible in the area were left incomplete, and he could only stand that for so long. It just so happened that his need to clear one coincided with the forming of raid parties, and Morningstar was grouped with a player he did not know. It was Freyd's idea of improving coordination and fostering camaraderie between the frontliners. While some disagreed with the sentiment, Star fell in

"Y'all got horses or something?" "Horses? No. Take these," the captain pointed to a few insect-like brass contraptions. "Oh. Okay." Morningstar hesitantly climbed onto one of the mechanical creatures, looking over the various controls. It reminded him of the time he had to pilot an airship. There were dozens of unnamed buttons and levers; all that he recognized were the steering controls. He poked at the joysticks, but they didn't do anything. "How do I turn it on?" He called out. "The big button on the left," the captain returned. He pressed it and the vehicle came to

Between Freyd hunting down his chalk marks and NIGHT constantly checking her back for spiders, Star figured it was time to head out. "Okay, okay. Thanks for coming everyone. You can invoice me for your time, or something." He spotted the white marks they'd left along the walls. "This way to fresh air," he called, leading the party towards the exit. Chalk really was a lifesaver. Never get caught in the maze without it. You could get stuck in there for weeks, forced to live off the legs of phase spiders without ever knowing what time of day it is. Thankfully, that would never happen to Morn

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He took a moment to orient himself. Choshi lived... "That way," Star pointed. She and her daughter had a small house on the outskirts of the city. They were a humble little family, without much in terms of wealth; but, what they didn't have in money, they paid forth in kindness, and that was worth a whole lot more to Morningstar. He recalled that on his first time, Choshi had approached him immediately after he'd stepped off the teleporter. Afterwards, he had to make the trip by foot. Sometimes, he would turn up and Koko would be safe and sound in her home. Those were his favorite vi

Morningstar eyed the group of laughing villagers. "Whatever. It's their village, not ours. Ignore 'em, if you can." He moved on from wall duty to stake duty on Acanthus' order, but the bits of wood he was left with were basically worthless. They were thin, one step up from twigs, and he was pretty sure they would snap if someone were to step on them. Still, he worked diligently at his task, and contributed what he could to the stake stash. "Hey, we have any shovels? Maybe we can dig trenches around the walls and put the stakes behind them to stop people from jumping over." A vil

Firefly had a way with words. She described things that, presumably, she had never seen with such beauty. He couldn't have done it better himself. "You know, I think we'll get along pretty well," Star smiled. If nothing else, they shared the desire to see what was out there. Like so many others, she was a Town of Beginnings veteran. Choosing to stay behind the safety of the walls was a perfectly valid decision to make, he thought. He didn't blame anyone who took the route of less risk; although, he knew that many had differing views on the matter. Star believed in the freedom to choose, e

"I dunno, like, a medium?" It was bigger than his old friends on Floor Two, but considerably smaller than his not-so-old friend, Wushen. He arbitrarily put it at an XL; a Starbucks Trenta, one might say. He had to remember to thank whoever it was that stunned the big dinosaur, since it narrowly saved him from being squished by a scaly foot. He winced, feeling the wind push him back as the winged beast fell. It made for a good chance to attack, too, since it couldn't really move anymore. He hacked at it with his longsword, chuckling a bit at Freyd's quip. There was something about th

He blinked. "Yeah. Hard for me too. Don't feel too bad about it." He held up his journal. It was bound in brown leather, with symbolic markings covering the front. "I've been keeping journals like this since the beginning. Got tons of them at home. This one was a gift. I had a brief stint in a nomadic group on Floor Fifteen—a story for another day, I suppose." They winded around Taft's side streets, passing by citizens and other players, as well as a lovely little coffee shop that Star had never seen before. He wondered if it was knew, or if he was simply less observant than he thought.

As they left, the elder called to them. Morningstar turned, last in earshot of the man. His message was succinct, and from the heart. "Thank you." Star gave a nod before rejoining his party. They had already gotten to work on fortifying defenses, beginning with building wooden walls. Somehow, Pinball had rallied dozens of workers to help with their efforts. It would have taken them all day had they done it alone. Star was grateful. He got to work. Tools had been supplied by the town, helpful for a player like Morningstar who wasn't prone to carrying around hammers in his inventory. A

He glanced back at the scene, where the body once was. The broker started it. He was just another mob in what was just another quest. An NPC that would probably respawn before the day ended. He didn't matter. But those were only excuses. They would get him through the day, even if he didn't fully believe them. He flicked back to Nym, who was signing to him. "Yeah. Yeah, we're done here." To do a dungeon seemed irresponsible, yet he obliged. Maybe he should have walked her back to Yōgan, far away from the hidden grotto; but, for whatever reason, he nodded. "We could do a dungeon. Ther

Star peered at the Crystal of Support dropped by the Iron Guardian. It glowed faintly in his palm, and was clearly more powerful than your average health recovery item. "Guess he was trying to steal these off us. Close-" His thought was interrupted by the swish of Nym's sabre. Star's jaw dropped as the needle-like blade entered the broker's skull, killing him instantly. He juggled words in his brain, unsure how to react. He had never seen her act so coldly towards another, even someone who was their enemy. The broker's remains vanished, and the quest finished. He saw the panic in her