Morningstar

At his waist sat his two-handed straight sword. After years, he still hadn't upgraded it. He told himself he wouldn't until he could craft one himself.

Morningstar gazed out into the sandstorm. Katar stood next to him. In the back, Grace and Simon made sure Zamek was okay. The old man pulled his cloak over his head. "If you have cloaks, you all may want to do the same."

They obliged, each of them pulling up the hoods of their cloaks and robes. Morningstar was the first to step out of the safezone. Katar and the others followed shortly after. The quest had begun. The wind whipped up a volley of dust and sand. It was hard enough for Morningstar to move; he couldn't imagine what Zamek was experiencing.

Periodically, Morningstar would look behind him to ensure that the party was still following behind him. Katar pushed forwards until he was beside him.

"These five miles... they'll take a while with Zamek with us. We may need to stop somewhere along the way and take shelter."

Morningstar nodded. He'd thought the same thing already. A town along the way was unlikely, if not impossible. Perhaps a large rock or a cave—something they could hide in or under.

"We'll try to find something when we can. Around half way, hopefully, if we can make it that long."

Five miles into an unforgiving sandstorm. Joaquin had done this quest weeks before. Morningstar remembered his friend mentioning it but he had not asked about the contents. Through his almost constant coughing and wheezing, Zamek explained the situation. The dunes of the fifth floor were more dangerous than they could possibly know, Zamek told them. He believed they should give the desert more credit, for there were more than simple creatures living there.

There were true monsters.

Morningstar shifted his weight between his feet as they stood in front of Fortaleza's main gate. The walls of the safezone were the only thing keeping the deadly sandstorm out. Sandstone bricks towered up into the sky and guards kept post at all times. Katar placed a hand on Morningstar's shoulder.

"I'm sure we'll be fine. Joaquin just did this a while back, didn't he? It worked out for him, right?"

Actually, Joaquin hadn't talked about the quest at all after he'd finished it. Even when they met up, he avoided the subject. "Yeah, right." Morningstar gave in, agreeing.

As the party leader, Morningstar was given the opportunity to begin the quest. He turned to his crew, his expression serious. "I know we talked about there being nothing worrisome out there earlier but stay on guard. We don't really know what's out there," his gaze turned to Zamek, who was coughing to his left.

The NPC's words rang in his ear. True monsters. What did it mean?

"Make sure you're geared up. We'll leave once everyone's ready to go."

Morningstar counted the heads of the people in his group. One. Two. Three. Four, including himself.

"Do you think this is enough?" he asked the one on the far left.

Katar pulled his fiery hair back into a ponytail. He was dressed in a red robe that looked uncomfortable in the fifth floor's dry weather. If it was, the man made no indication of it. At his waist was a silver and gold, dragon-hilted katana. Kraki Gazan, he recalled. Beast of Flames. He looked over the group as well as if judging their capabilities.

"Yeah, I don't see why not," Katar said. "The four of us should be able to take on anything down here. There's nothing worrisome that I know of."

"Alright then. What'll we do? A quest? A field boss? A dungeon, maybe?"

He looked at each of the players. Next to Katar stood a couple of his guildmates: Simon and Grace. He'd met Simon quite a few times but he didn't know Grace well. She'd been introduced to him once before when he and Joaquin had been reacquainted with each other in the Town of Beginnings. Simon was about fifteen, Morningstar thought. Give or take a few years, of course. He was short and had sandy brown hair. His weapon of choice was a dagger. Grace looked like Lexa. It was almost scary. Her hair was blonde and braided and he was thankful that the woman didn't carry a rapier. Instead, she wielded a spear. It stood taller than she did, standing at about five feet eight inches.

A voice called out from behind Morningstar. "Are you four adventurers?"

He turned around to see the visage of an old man. "Yes, can we help you?"

The man looked like he'd seen a ghost. His face was pale and his entire body shook as he tried to form words. "I am terribly sorry to bother you but yes, I do need help. I—"

Coughs came violently from his mouth. Morningstar rushed over to help the old man, placing a hand on his shoulder. He gazed up at Katar, whose expression was just as worried as his own. The old man's breathing was shallow and weak. He wasn't okay. When he was able to catch his breath, he spoke again.

"I have a treasure chest of sorts, buried in the desert, at the base of some uniquely shaped rocks. The contents are incredibly important to me, but I am too ill to make the journey alone," he began, "Would you escort me there? I cannot offer you much but I would be eternally grateful."

A notification box appeared in front of Morningstar. It took him by surprise. He made eye contact with Katar and then with the rest of the party. They all nodded.

"We'll help you," Morningstar said, touching the accept button with his index finger.

Morningstar thanked the man before they teleported back to Scalabis. The city was quiet in the dead of night, as it should be.

"I've got an inn booked. It was nice to meet you, Watson," Morningstar said.

Watson smiled back. "And you, Morningstar. I'm sure we'll meet again sometime soon."

With a wave, Watson walked away, leaving Morningstar alone with his thoughts. The Ghost of the Tablelands. He wondered if he'd really seen such a thing or if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. It'd been almost nine years but he still believed in it now as much as he had back then.

- - -

The door of his room at the inn creaked open as he pushed it gently. He locked it upon entering and dropped into bed. "What a day," he mumbled, flicking off his table lamp. He could still hear the voice of his mother's words as she called him out of bed.

"Stephen," his mother called, "we're heading out soon. Don't forget your bags."

REWARDS

400 Col (400 * 1 page)
2180 EXP (6,561 / 30 = 218 * (5 * 2) = 2180)

"I remember whipping out my sword and slicing at it but after I blinked, it was gone. I think I ran the entire way back to town," Morningstar chuckled.

"So, the ghost is real?" Watson asked.

"I mean, I think so. Not a single person I've told has ever believed me, though. What about you?" Morningstar handed his plate back to Watson, who was beginning to clean up.

Watson hesitated. "I'm not sure. I've never really believed in the supernatural, myself."

"Care to join me on a trip to the Tablelands?"

"What, are you trying to give an old man a heart attack?" Watson laughed and Morningstar joined in.

Dinner and conversations like this were rare for Morningstar. He spent most nights alone, eating whatever it was that he could find with the least amount of effort. He made sure to add the old man to his friends list; they'd have to go fishing again someday. Star wasn't much of a fisherman but Watson promised to show him the ropes.

"Thank you for tonight. I don't think there's any chance of me camping out here after a story like that, though. I'll be heading back to town, I think. Need a crystal?" Watson asked.

"If you have an extra, I'd appreciate it," Morningstar replied.

"Of course. Consider it payment for a story well told."

"I told you that I went to the Tablelands, yeah? I went because I wanted to see the cliffs for myself. People in Urbus like to tell stories of the spirit that haunts the Tablelands; the ghost of the first player to die there. I wanted to confirm whether the stories were true or not. I guess it's kind of what got me into exploring in the first place."

Morningstar took a bite of his fish before continuing, afraid of letting it go cold.

"I went in the late afternoon and arrived at nightfall. I walked all the way across the Tablelands until I found the cliffs where the ghost was supposed to show up. But it didn't."

"It didn't?" Watson looked confused as if he wasn't sure where the story was going.

"Nope. Not at first, anyway. After waiting around for a few hours, I turned around, lit a torch, and headed back towards town. That was when the breathing started."

"Breathing?"

"Breathing. Right in my ear, like someone was standing behind me. I turned around but nobody was there. Then, I heard rocks slip off the cliff. Kind of—"

"Like someone had fallen?" Watson asked.

Morningstar nodded. "Exactly. By this point I was scared. I didn't really believe in ghosts or anything but even I could admit that these things were weird. I was sure that I was alone. I started to panic and I turned back around."

He stopped speaking for a moment, staring out at the calm water. Only crickets were audible now. Not even the birds chirped that late on the Paradise Islands. He turned his head back to Watson.

"The Ghost of the Tablelands was right in front of me."

"Your turn," Watson began, "I'm sure you've got plenty of stories to share."

Morningstar laughed. He wasn't sure it was possible to top the tale of the giant slayers; however, he was happy to give it a try. "Sure," he said, humoring the old man.

"This was back when the game first started—within the first few months, anyway. I didn't know anyone yet, since I came into the game alone, and I spent most of my time doing quests. Well, one day, I decided to take a day off," he recalled the story vividly as if it had only just happened.

"I can't remember what floor we were on but back then there weren't many unlocked yet. I spent most of my time between the Town of Beginnings and Urbus and if I wasn't doing easy quests I was hiding in the safezones like most other people were in the beginning. On this day, though, I went up into the Tablelands down on Floor Two. Pretty dangerous place for low-level players. Anyway, I went there mostly to explore, since I'd never had the chance of going before. There were the usual mobs: giant bugs, goblins, et cetera. But that wasn't all."

"What do you mean?" Watson asked curiously.

Morningstar smirked. "I take it you've never heard of the Ghost of the Tablelands?"

"No," he responded, "go on."

"Okay," Morningstar continued. "Legend has it that when the first boss was cleared and the second floor opened up, the first player to die was with a party that was exploring the Tablelands. If you go far enough, you'll reach a set of cliffs. They're slippery and if you're not prepared, there's a good chance a fall will kill you. As I said, this player traveled there with a party but according to the group, he went off on his own for a few minutes to take a look at the cliffs. Then, he disappeared. There was no trace of him."

"Obviously, dozens of people have gone back to figure out what exactly happened. The most likely scenario is that he slipped and fell to his death but nobody really knows."

Watson scratched his neck. "So, how is this your story?"

"I'm just about to get to that."

Time went on and the pair continued to chat until nightfall. The fire that Watson had started crackled in the moonlight. The fish was finally ready. Watson pulled it off of the flame and gently placed it on a cutting board. He tapped it with his glowing kitchen knife and the meat split into two portions. Morningstar withdrew the artisanal bread from his inventory and handed half to Watson.

"So, what happened next?" Morningstar asked.

Watson took the bread and put it on a plate. Then he began dishing up Morningstar's food. "Well, the giants found us, of course. Sam was so pissed that he'd woken them up that he charged right in and leaped on one, sword in hand, and stabbed it in the leg. Poor fool of a giant couldn't shake him off!"

They laughed and Morningstar took his plate from Watson. The fish was seared to perfection and sliced delicately next to the bread. Watson had explained earlier that he was a cook by profession, both inside and out of the game. He'd proven himself with their dinner. Morningstar took a bite of the meat.

"Delicious," he said, complimenting the chef.

"Why, thank you," Watson replied.

Morningstar smiled. "Since you're still here, I take it you lived the encounter with the giants."

"Oh, yes. After a while, Sam stopped flailing and took down his giant. I was quicker, though," Watson winked.

Morningstar chuckled. He took a bite of the bread with a pleasant surprise. "How do you like it? The bread, I mean."

"It's really tasty. Where'd you find it?"

"There's a bakery down on the first floor. I'm not down there often these days but when I am, I try to stop there for a treat."

"What's the name of the bakery?"

"Five Wheels," Morningstar said, ripping off a corner of the loaf and tossing it into his mouth.

"I'll take a look some time. I have a friend who recently purchased a house in the Town of Beginnings so I'm down there quite a bit."

Crickets began to chirp in the distance. Morningstar had noticed a lack of bugs in the area. Perhaps the fire was causing them to keep their distance.

Morningstar spun around, surprised that anyone was around. He hadn't noticed the old man when he'd jumped and he hadn't swum a far distance.

"I am," he called back. "This is my last day on the islands so I wanted to make the best of it."

"Truly, truly. We're in the same boat," the old man laughed.

Due to his age, one could have mistaken him for an NPC. It was rare to see older players. The man was dressed comfortably in shades of brown with a straw hat to block out the sunlight. He wore glasses, strangely enough. Morningstar was of the belief that eyesight problems were fixed within the game.

"They're a preference. I don't feel right without my glasses," he said, adjusting the frame.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare," Morningstar swam up to the rocks that the man sat on.

"It's quite alright," He said, tossing the line of his fishing rod into the water. "Care to join me? I have tea."

Morningstar smiled. "I would love to."

Gripping onto the rocks, he pushed himself out of the water. His pants were soaked now but soon enough they would dry off. He took the man's offer and poured himself a glass of tea.

"It's green."

"My favorite," Morningstar proclaimed.

"Good," the man's focus remained on his rod, "mine as well."

They sat silently, the man awaiting a tug from the water and Morningstar enjoying the company. He blew on his drink before taking a sip. Suddenly, the old man pulled hard on his rod. Out of the water came a fish the length of Morningstar's forearm. The man grinned in pleasure.

"First catch of the day!"

Morningstar replied with a smile, taking another sip of his tea.

"I'm Watson. I have a house here on the twenty-fourth floor and I come to the Paradise Islands occasionally to fish."

"Morningstar. I'm here on a bit of a vacation."

"Is that so?" Watson asked. "Care to join me for this fish on your last night here? This should be plenty between the two of us."

Morningstar nodded. "If you'll have me. Actually, I have some fancy bread I've been meaning to try."

Everything is different underwater. It's as if your senses are restrained; tethered by the ocean itself. You can't see or hear anything clearly. You relinquish your control to Neptune and in return are offered uncertainty—a mystifying coin flip between tranquility and dread.

Luck was on Morningstar's side. Holding his breath, he floated for a bit less than a minute before rising to the surface. His head breached the glass-like plane that separated the two worlds of sea and land. His blonde hair looked brown when it was wet. He trod the water, admiring the serenity of his surroundings. There wasn't another place he felt comfortable swimming.

After a moment of stillness, he dove back beneath the waves, making deep strokes to propel himself through the water. He could see tiny entities swim by and he knew that they were harmless fish. He stared down as far as he could, but there was nothing but blurry darkness to be found. He stopped to come up for air.

An unfamiliar voice beckoned him from behind. "Enjoying the weather?"

Within a twenty-minute time frame, Morningstar had climbed back up the cliffside and said goodbye to Peaches.

"I'm sure we'll meet again. Here," he said, handing the rabbit the last of the wildflowers he had collected.

The animal took them willingly and hopped away, back through the bushes and into the quiet forest. Morningstar watched for a moment until he was sure that Peaches was gone. Then, he turned back to the sea. Previous tests had concluded that the currents below were safe for swimming. Taking a few steps back, he took a deep breath in. He stretched his back and legs and then exhaled. He took one step forward and then another. Picking up momentum, he found himself running. The edge of the cliff neared with each step and as if it were muscle memory, he pushed himself forwards. Before he knew it, he was free-falling.

Seconds turned to a millennium as he dropped lower and lower. All he could see was blue. The wind hit his face with a cold force but it refreshed him, invigorated him. His tired body awoke and his mind was freed from the pain that came before. He crashed into the water and sank below the riptide.

Alkor...

Morningstar tried putting a face to the name but found that he was drawing a blank. Had he been the one fighting the blonde girl? He couldn't remember.

"Fine, if you want me to put on my big girl pants, my answer is Jomei," he smirked, using the only name he could remember from previous conversations. "But you can't ask why."

"I get it though," he looked back towards the dojo. "There are a lot of interesting people here. It'd be a lie if I said I wasn't curious about a few of them."

That being said, he felt no urge to confront or talk to them. He was content where he was, for the time being anyway. The garden grew colder in the evening air. He'd finished the last of his dinner and concluded that it was the best he'd had in weeks. Astreya's next comment took him by surprise.

"Oh yeah?" he chuckled, folding his arms over his chest. "Nobody would believe you," he grinned back, "but if you're so keen on it, I'll keep that in mind for when I win."

Rebekah's call to train her owl was one that Morningstar had expected. He knew from the day she had tamed it that she would need to teach it how to assist her in combat. Since he was the one who joined her that day, it made sense that he'd tag along once more.

Star had never been to the twenty-second floor. It never interested him, for some reason. Maybe it was because it felt like a place you went to retire; the most peaceful place in existence. Monsters were few and far between unless you included the deer. It just seemed... boring.

He could not deny the beauty of it, however. Even the tiny town of Coral was pretty. The rustic cabins, the cozy glamour. A place he could retire. He stepped off of the teleporter and into Coral. Guards stood near the gate and other NPCs roamed the town, smiling at Morningstar as he passed. He wasn't sure where to meet Rebekah.

He glanced around, trying to spot her. Had she mentioned it in her message? With a swish of his hand, he opened his menu.

The Town of Beginnings—a place Morningstar had mixed feelings about. The busy streets, the loud districts. The whole town brought back memories, both good and bad. Images of the house he'd once intended on purchasing flooded his mind. He wondered if anyone had purchased it in the last year. He hadn't checked.

"Yeah, it's a safezone. Nobody can die or be injured within the walls. It's called the Town of Beginnings. It's where we all started. I've got to be honest, though, it feels weird explaining this," Morningstar said.

The tall walls loomed over the two players as they stepped through the wide gate. Even so close to the entrance, dozens stood by, idly chatting between each other. Their levels varied significantly; some were frontlines-ready and others looked as if they'd never stepped outside of the town.

"A lot of people stayed here when the game began. Dying's scary and accidents happen out there," he said, pointing behind them.

- - -

Cautiously, Morningstar pushed open the door to a café—one of the larger establishments around. The more people, he thought, the less of a chance they'd be noticed. He glanced around himself before entering, gesturing for Bahr to follow.

Uncertainty and distrust followed the blonde, even into the safezone. He'd only assumed that Bahr was telling the truth. Really, he was only half sure. If he was, then who else knew? He took a seat at an empty table in the back.

"An NPC will come around soon and take our order. You're free to order whatever you feel like off the menu—it's on me," Morningstar looked into the crowd and then back at Bahr. "Do you remember anything at all? From before we met, I mean."

Morningstar smiled at the furry creature next to Oji. He'd never seen a sable before but thought it was cute.

"Morningstar," he said. "Nice to meet you."

His attention switched to the newcomer. He was thankful to see a face that he recognized. Brown hair, an uninterested question, and a question that Morningstar didn't understand all came about unexpectedly. The seventh floor had felt like weeks ago but in reality, it had only been a few days.

"And you're... Monarch, right? Good to see you again," Morningstar said, brushing back his blonde locks.

Morningstar's knowledge of the rumor was non-existent. All his broker knew was that the man in the hat was looking for help. He was glad he hadn't paid for the info, though; it wasn't much. He turned back to Oji, crossing his arms.

"If you wouldn't mind, could you give us a rundown of what the rumor is?"

The blade slid across the man's hand, leaving a crimson trail of pixels behind it. It was obvious that he had expected himself to bleed. Morningstar's face shifted from confusion to worry. Bahr really knew nothing. Nine years of whatever life he had lived before were gone like smoke. He cleared his throat, pondering the best place to start. The beginning, he supposed.

"This is a video game. Everyone playing is stuck here until we can beat it. You don't bleed or feel much pain but if you die within the game, it's over; you die outside too."

That was the gist of it. He left his explanation brief, hoping to avoid overloading Bahr with information. Morningstar glanced around but nobody else seemed to take notice of the situation. If they had, they didn't appear to care. He scratched his neck, unsure of where to go from here. 

Morningstar enjoyed puzzles. There was a profound satisfaction that he experienced after solving one. The harder the puzzle, the more entertainment he gained from it. This was different. It wasn't like the games he was used to. It was a possibly unsolvable mystery involving the life of another person and that overwhelmed him.

"I don't know who you are or how I can help," he began, shaking his head, "but I can try."

Every time he thought things couldn't get worse, the world proved him wrong. On top of everything, an unsolvable puzzle was thrown in his path.

"We should go somewhere else, though. A safezone, maybe."

Morningstar knelt on the cold ground, clutching the dust left by the red crystal. Tears ran down his face and he opened his fist, letting what remained of it flow to the ground. It fell slowly, like sand in an hourglass. The crystals were the exact kind that Lexa would have liked, shimmering and beautiful. However, it didn't last. Nothing ever seemed to.

The rabbit nudged the arm that held Morningstar up. He opened his eyes, surprised. He had forgotten Peaches was there. He wiped his face on his bare arm and, with a lot of effort, lifted himself up.

"I knew I'd be dealing with some hard stuff on this trip but I didn't think I'd cry so much. Thanks, friend," Morningstar smiled, pulling the rabbit into an embrace.

His eyes were puffy and red but he managed to choke out a laugh nonetheless. Peaches nuzzled into the man's chest affectionately. Petting the animal, he ventured further into the cave. It didn't take long for him to reach the end, though. He expected something more exciting for the last part of his travels but found it hard to complain. He'd already seen some of the most gorgeous parts of Aincrad earlier.

He turned his back on the end of the cave, passed the sad gemstones, and exited the cave for good.

Morningstar relaxed at the sight of the lowered sword. What was going on?

The distressed expression on his face, the fumble for words—he was telling the truth, it just didn't make sense. His name dangled from nothing above his head. Could he really not know his own name? It sounded absurd; he never would have believed it if he hadn't witnessed how the player acted. Morningstar lifted his hand from his blade handle.

"I guess, for starters, your name is Bahr."

Bahr's questions bothered Morningstar. Not knowing his own identity was one thing but why ask what Morningstar was? He was like a newborn baby with the reflexes of a master swordsman. His amber eyes traced over the man and a thought struck him.

Was it possible to lose memories in a video game? Within the virtual world, it seemed unlikely that an injury could cause such a thing. What about outside, though? In the real world.

"Your level's pretty high. You must know someone else in the game, right?"

It was a stupid question, he thought. If he couldn't remember himself then how could he remember his friends?

The girl's expression was expected; he'd never found anyone else who enjoyed the drink like he did. He was an anomaly. The brunette's choice of coffee didn't hurt Morningstar's feelings either. He glanced back and forth between the two of them.

"Monarch and... what was your name?" Morningstar asked the girl. "If you're capable of tanking, I feel comfortable being our DPS."

He swished the ice around in his glass, considering what else he should say. His full story regarding the dungeon felt unnecessary. He decided to hold off unless it came up naturally. "I guess all I have left to tell you is that we'll be doing a lot of walking. Any questions?"

Morningstar swished his hand through the air, opening his menu. He located his inventory and recounted the items he kept stocked within it. His health potions, his boar jerky, his over-health potion—it was all there where it belonged. He didn't expect to need much of it, but he'd learned from the last time.

There was something that dwelled in the darkest parts of the cavern. Something that terrified Stephen. He knew because moments after stepping onto the ice, the beast's bellowing call echoed through the air, vibrating the walls and paralyzing him and Lexa. They stared at each other, eyes wide. Thumps and scurries grew louder and louder as seconds passed. What happened? Had he activated something by accident? He looked in the direction of the sound saw something large and ice-blue swiftly stomping through the cave.

"Run!" Stephen cried.

He moved first, pulling Lexa from her fearful trance. They sprinted back through the tunnel they had come from, dodging stalactites as they passed. A low-hanging spear-like rock scraped Stephen's shoulder, causing him to wince. He didn't stop, though; he knew the creatures were right behind them. Every little while, he'd look behind him to make sure Lexa was okay. She kept close but the expression she made was heartbreaking. They couldn't outrun them. He clutched his sword, contemplating his next decision carefully. He nearly spun around when Lexa's voice reverberated through him.

"Don't!" She shouted. "Don't you dare turn around!"

Stephen gritted his teeth. "Damn it! They're too fast!"

He met Lexa's eyes for a short moment as he spun his head around. Only one of the creatures could fit through at once. If he could hold back one, then he could hold back them all. His amber eyes darted from her face to her waist. Why was she drawing her rapier? What was she doing?

She stopped suddenly and, with a pink glow, thrust her blade into the beast a dozen times. He slowed down.

"Come on!" Stephen called out, hurrying her to join him.

The beast was stunned; she'd bought them enough time to get out unscathed. The exit was so close now. Lexa nodded, beginning to run once again. He didn't speed up right away. Instead, he waited for her to catch up.

His heart sunk as he noticed the two lizard monsters crawling on the roof. They were smaller than the one that Lexa had stunned. They could fit right over the top of it. Why hadn't he considered that there could be different-sized monsters? One of them leaped from the ceiling, the beast's claws sinking into the woman's back. She hit the ground with a devastating thud and her rapier flew out of reach. Stephen reached out to her but he was too far away.

Why?

The beast slashed at her, dropping her health bar further.

Why was this happening?

It's jaw descended into her shoulder. Before he could reach her, the bar fell to zero.

"Stop!" Stephen screamed, a golden arc slicing through the two smaller beasts. The lizards shattered into blue shards and disappeared. He knelt down next to Lexa, looking for a health potion. He scrolled through his inventory, breathing heavily in his panicked state.

"I'm sorry. I know I told you not to do it," Lexa smiled faintly, her fingers grazing his cheek.

Then, she was gone.

Stephen lost track of how much time they'd spent in the dungeon. He estimated an hour but it could have been longer.

"Has it gotten colder in here?" Lexa asked.

"I mean, we're pretty far in. Sun's not really touching this part," Stephen shrugged.

"I guess."

Groups of frost lizard-men had attacked multiple times while they explored but there were never enough to worry Stephen. The cave was lacking the challenge that they had expected. Where were the strong monsters? The rare loot? He glanced at Lexa.

"Does this seem weird to you?"

"What?"

"We've seen nothing but low-level mobs since we came here. There's been no sign of anything else."

Lexa looked ahead, stopping in her tracks. "Speak of the devil."

Stephen, confused, looked ahead. The walls, floor, and roof were covered in ice. They had discovered the source of the temperature change. Stephen stepped towards the ice, poking it with the tip of his shoe. Oddly enough, it didn't feel slippery. He moved forwards, taking a full step onto the glimmering floor.

"I think it's safe," he called.

Stephen looked down from the cave entrance, waiting for his partner to join him. When she was close enough, he held out his arm to help her. He pulled her up and they looked out together at the world. The view was spectacular. From their position, they could see across the mountain range, even as far as Deepedge. He tapped her shoulder, motioning her to follow him. They moved onward, ducking under jagged rocks and swerving around sharp corners. The cave became darker the deeper they traveled.

"Any chance you brought a torch?" Morningstar asked.

"Of course. One of us needs to come prepared." Lexa returned.

She lit the torch, illuminating their cave. They stopped dead in their tracks. Seven lizard-men blocked their path, some of them crawling on the ceiling and walls while the others stood upright on the ground. It was a grotesque scene. They reacted quickly, both drawing their blades with swift timing and slicing down their opponents.

"Unexpected," Morningstar said.

"Yeah."

The suddenness of the situation frightened Morningstar. His hand dipped low to the hilt of his blade but he did not draw it. He stared down the length of the stranger's sword, holding his hand out as if to say 'hold on a minute'. He listened to the man's request—actually, it was more of an order—and stopped in his tracks.

Was this a mistake? Had he been fooled by a lone Player Killer? His eyes darted up to the man's cursor to confirm its colour. It was green. Could it have been a misunderstanding? Internally, he told himself to calm down. Adrenaline had taken control by this point and it took everything he had to hold back his panic.

"W-who are you? What are you?"

What was he? The question confused Morningstar. He stared at the man, a puzzled expression plastered on his face. He had a name but beyond that, he was just another person. He took a second to come up with a response but was quickly interrupted.

"Answer me!"

"What the hell am I supposed to say to that—a human?" he shouted back. "My name is Morningstar and I mean no harm."

"That makes four in a row. Want to go again?"

Morningstar shuffled his deck of cards elegantly, smirking at the hooded figure across from him. The man snickered, flipping a dagger between his fingers.

"Fine. One more time but only because I like you, Mr. Morningstar," he said.

Cards flew to the other side of the table, landing in front of the man. He peaked at them nonchalantly, hiding them from Morningstar's view. The blonde didn't look away from his own cards. He placed the shuffled deck in the center of the table and traded one of his cards for a new one.

The hooded man hesitated, eyes switching back and forth between his hand and the deck. He gave in, drawing a new card and placing an old one down beside the deck.

"Interesting choice," Morningstar chuckled.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Morningstar sipped his drink, "you threw away an ace."

"It's useless to me anyway," the hooded man said.

"Not to me, though," Morningstar tapped on the table. "I knock."

"Seriously? On round three?" The man revealed his cards. A seven and a king of hearts.

"That's Scat, my friend. I win again. I guess today's not your day," Morningstar leaned back, waiting for the man to order him his next drink. "The same as the last four will be fine."

But the hooded man did not order him another drink. He stuck his knife into the table and stared at Morningstar intently. Forest green eyes peered out from the darkness of his cowl. The man's familiar, a monkey, climbed from his spot on the floor to his shoulder. Being outside of the safezone, the bar was known to have some sketchy customers. Still, he didn't seem like the type to attack Morningstar.

Morningstar's intuition proved to be right. "I've got something more fun for you. I mentioned that I'm a broker, didn't I?"

"No, otherwise I wouldn't bother with drinks. We'd be playing for info," Morningstar returned.

"In that case, I have some info for you."

----

It didn't take long for Morningstar to find the man the broker had mentioned. He was stationed on a bench with a sable—a pet, he presumed.

"It's been a while since I've come here. The third floor, that is," Morningstar said. "Are you Oji? I'm here for the rumor."

Morningstar’s fixation with insignificant things was not something he ever considered to be unhealthy. By no means did he view himself as a philosopher; however, he relished the act of thought. The seed that was an individual idea or belief could, with time, develop into a theory. Theories lead to innovations and innovations to more ideas. An endless cycle of thinking and learning.

That’s not to say all of Morningstar’s thoughts were rational. He basked in the sun’s angelic glow as he so often did on his days off. The existence of it puzzled him. If there was a sun, as well as other stars, then what about planets? Asteroids? Hell, how much of outer space, if any, had been included in the game? More accurately, he wanted to know what would happen if he flew into the sky and never stopped. He flopped back, shutting his eyes to block out the brightness. He yearned for it; the chance to see outside of the steel cage that contained him.

Periodically, he pulled bits of grass out from the ground and tossed them into the air. Time seemed to slow down as the pieces floated back to him. The words of a friend echoed in his head like a harsh melody. He tried desperately to escape them but they always returned. A recurring nightmare.

“I have a brain tumor, Star.”

What would happen if he flew into the sky and never stopped?

"Doctor told me I had two years to live but it’s been nine and I’m still kicking.”

Would he escape or crash back down?

“Do you see why I’m scared?”

The bits of grass landed on Morningstar’s chest. He jolted up and, in frustration, tossed a handful that he had ripped from the ground. It moved a few feet at most. The fields were chartreuse in the sun’s illumination. He stared, wide-eyed, at nothing in particular. While he sat still, his mind ran circles around the tune that looped in his head. It was a grave concerto; him versus his thoughts.

Perhaps his fixation was not always healthy after all.

Morningstar questioned Elwood’s decision to break the news so late into their friendship. On the contrary, part of him wished that he had never been told at all. He wiped his eyes with the side of his hand, tears beginning to form.

He hated crying. The vulnerability of it made him uncomfortable even in the absence of spectators. Despite being alone, he forced back the urge to let out his emotions. He swished his hand lethargically and a screen opened in front of his face. His fingers danced over it until eventually, he reached his friends list. Elwood’s name was there and his location was still available. Morningstar was unsure of what he would do if it were to disappear.

A barrage of noise to his left startled him, silencing his thoughts. Shades of blue floated upwards, signifying the death of something—a mob, he assumed. A player dropped to the ground next to it. Morningstar didn’t move at first. Instead, he observed from his seated position. He half expected the player to die but after a minute his body was still there. Morningstar lifted himself from his sorrowful state, beginning to jog towards the scene. It was possible that he could lend a hand.

“Everything okay?” He asked the stranger.