Morningstar

Against all cautionary tales and warnings, two intrepid players tip-toed through and around plant life, their bodies fueled by excitement and trepidation. Guided by the light of the full moon, they ventured into the heart of the garden, oblivious to the danger they had put themselves in. Their eyes played tricks on them as they moved through the unexplainably thick air. Shadows danced in the corners of their eyes, disappearing when the pair tried catching them. It was cold—so cold that they could even see their breath as they exhaled. The wind kicked up and the two players stopped in thei

Somewhere off towards the stern of the airship was Morningstar. He had stepped away from the bar since his brief interaction with Yona, intent on getting some fresh air. It was a simple task, considering they were flying. He had ensured his drink was topped up before leaving so he could nurse it conservatively for a little while longer. He leaned against the ship's railing. It was strange, being at a party like this. It was so similar to the parties he had attended years ago, in the real world. Of course, they had not been in the sky so they were ultimately less interesting. Morning

"New sword?" Elwood broke the silence. Morningstar, frazzled, looked to his left. Meteor leaned against the arm of the chair, faintly glowing at his side. "Yeah. A blacksmith up in Ronbaru crafted it for me." Elwood set the teapot down on the tray. He traced the floral pattern on his cup before lifting it to his lips and taking a long sip. Steam floated from the top. Morningstar picked up his cup, following his friend's lead. Before he could take a sip, he stopped himself. He stared into the cup for a moment, watching the dark water swirl. Then, he looked at Elwood. "What a

House Name: Morningstar's Beach House Location: Floor 24 - Raitoboru Bay Description: Nestled along the edge of vacation hotspot, Raitoboru Bay, Morningstar's beach estate exudes the essence of tranquility. Surrounded by breathtaking natural beauty, this property offers a captivating blend of coziness and coastal charm. Set on a private plot of land, the estate boasts immaculate green terrain that seamlessly merges with the sandy shores. Tall palm trees sway in the gentle ocean breeze, casting dappled shadows over the pristine lawns and vibrant flower beds. A pathway of wooden stairs

With that, Morningstar stood up. He had not found what he thought he might in the man; however, the conversation was valuable on its own. It was interesting, talking to a man who intended on taking his first steps outside of the walls of the safe zone. It brought him back a few years, to himself. He had had plenty of help from others back then and felt obligated to pay it forward. He swished his hand horizontally, opening his menu. Finding his "Friends" section, he entered Ink's username and sent a friend request. "If you need a hand with a quest or something, just shoot me a message. It

His walk back to the teleporter was interrupted by the sudden grand opening of a new store. It caught his attention with the promise of free clothing to the first five customers. Tossing his nervousness to the back of his mind, he strolled up to the shop. Immediately, he was greeted by the store's owner. "Welcome! We're so glad you could make it to the grand opening of our tailor! As the sign says outside, we're offering unlimited free vanity items to the first five customers!" The owner said. He was unsure of who "we" were, considering it was just the two of them in the store. Ignor

"Can I assume you're here for a rumor? Chasing anything in particular?" Morningstar chuckled. Asphodel appeared to be good at what he did. Morningstar denied following a specific rumor and asked for something fresh. "Very well. Floor Eleven. Visit the Grand Cathedral in Taft and wait for the bell to strike. Then, look at the ground where the shadows of the stained-glass windows are cast," Asphodel said. He was short and to the point, although Morningstar was uncertain what the directions would lead him to. He stood up, intent on taking his leave. The snake flicked its forked ton

Dante seemed pleased with such a large order of food. He snapped with joy. "Right away, good sir! I'll throw it on ol' Star's tab," He winked, rushing to the kitchen to prepare the small feast. Morningstar shook his head and sighed. The bartender was always throwing things on "ol' Star's tab'. It was almost like a game for him but, of course, Morningstar did not complain. In return, he knew he could count on Dante during difficult times. Ink's motivation seemed basic enough. It was respectable, leaving the Town of Beginnings after all this time. It took more than simple courage,

"Talk ter the fella in black, jus over there," The bartender pointed towards a table in the corner. There was a man, like he said, dressed in a black robe. He looked sort of like what a monk would look like if they practiced necromancy. The stranger was bald and tall. He sat alone, a long staff leaning against the wall behind him. "Who is he?" Morningstar asked. "E calls himself Asphodel. E's a broker, 's far as I know. He should have wha' yeh're looking fer." "Thanks, for the drink and for the help." "O' course." Morningstar left the bar, striding up to the man i

Joaquin nodded. "I'm heading back to the guild hall. Where will you go?" "I'm going to stick around here and make some plans," Morningstar replied. "Plans?" Joaquin frowned. "Yeah, you know. For our exploration team." Joaquin tried smiling. "Right. Sounds good." They parted ways but Morningstar knew they would see each other again soon. When they did, they would both be different; changed by both the events of that day and by those that had yet to unfold. To his left was a small building, in comparison to the rest. He pushed open the wooden door, revealing a tavern. It

On their way back to the teleporter, Morningstar stopped his friend. "What will you do now?" he asked. Joaquin thought for a moment. "I don't know, Stephen. I've got a report to write up. My guild will need to know about what happened today." They stared at each other for a while before Joaquin spoke again. "What about you? Will you keep searching for him?" Morningstar turned away, his eyes fixed on the path to the flatlands. What benefit was there from continuing their hunt? It would kill him, quite literally, he thought. He imagined Grace and Simon and considered what the

It was funny, he thought, how quickly the mood could change from hopeful to distraught. He felt he could blink and Katar would reappear in the distance, changed, cloaked in evil. But no such thing happened. He wondered what was going through Joaquin's mind. Had he considered what he would tell his guild, now that he had found Katar? Had he thought about how they would react to the situation? Or was he thinking at all? Not long after they had reappeared in town, they found themselves reacquainted with the injured broker. He still sat in the same position as before, unmoving and unhealed. I

They rematerialized in Knorilt Village. Morningstar used the wall of the nearest building to hold his weight. He still had not processed what they had witnessed in the Volcanic Flatlands. Nothing made sense to him. It was clear that Katar had gotten in with a rough crowd but Morningstar could not understand why. Why would he abandon them for people so dark? Joaquin had fallen to his knees and all Morningstar could do was stare. What words could he have said to ameliorate his pain? He knew that there was nothing that could change what had happened and yet he wished that he was wrong.

"We've got it all—wings, fries, and burgers, I mean. What can I get ya?" Dante asked. Morningstar caved into his cravings and ordered a serving of fries. Dante was not known for his food but it did the trick. His water came first, of course, and he sipped it conservatively. It would probably be the last drink he ordered. He couldn't tell if Ink's question was meant to be thought-provoking or literal. He took a second before answering, twirling the ice cubes in his glass. It was getting late, he thought, and he had not made any plans for the evening. "Sleep, probably," he answere

Morningstar's smile faded, his expression more serious now. He was not a front liner. When it came to strength, they were in a league of their own. He was nowhere near it and yet he knew that even they were struggling at the top. The more floors that were cleared, the more difficult the enemies became and the fewer allies remained. It was hard to say what their numbers were looking like now. He had met many of them some time ago but his relationships with them were surface-level at best. He often wondered if he could be of use to them or if he would be a liability. "Twenty-seven," Morning

Another pause followed Ink's reply. Morningstar did not intend for it to be so awkward; he simply expected the man to be leagues above him in terms of levels. "You mean, you're level one?" Morningstar asked. He cleared his throat, realizing his rudeness. Dante seemed shocked by the fact too, despite being level one himself. Everything he learned about Ink just seemed so... odd. He had hoped to invite the man along with him on an adventure of sorts but now he was worried about the consequences that would arise if he did so. "Not that there's anything wrong with that, of course. I

Katar made a sound that was close to a word but he stopped himself before it came out. Joaquin tossed him a health potion. Morningstar looked at his friend. He saw pity in the warrior's eyes but he could not tell whether it was for the fool on the ground or for the friends he had lost because of said fool. "You could have come back," Joaquin said, "We could have helped you." Many emotions were plastered on Katar's face. Sadness, frustration, regret, and hints of despair. His bottom lip quivered as he tried to speak again. "I'm sorry," Katar said, consuming the health potion.

Before Morningstar could reply, his attention was stolen by the faint crumbling of rocks to their left. Joaquin appeared to not have heard and for a moment, the blonde wondered if he had gone crazy. He stopped, staring in the direction of the low cliff-side where he had heard the noise. Joaquin, confused, asked what he saw. Morningstar neglected to answer and, instead, activated his Charge skill. He flew by the cliff in a yellow flash, his hand already on his blade's hilt. The silhouette of a cloaked player slid down the cliff, seemingly shocked that they had been noticed so suddenly. Mornings

"Was that everything you had hoped for?" Morningstar said with a grin. Joaquin rolled his eyes, turning towards the exit of the cave. It had been a long trip for such a short fight, Morningstar thought. The reward would likely be small, too. As they walked, the blonde kept his eyes locked on their surroundings. They talked here and there about whatever nonsense crossed their minds; however, Morningstar was only half there. He remained focused, a feeling in his gut warning him that there was more to come. The journey back to Knorilt Village seemed longer than it should have but perhap

Ink was not the name he had expected to hear leave the man's mouth. He was full of surprises, it seemed. Morningstar thought about the oddity that was his invitation. He didn't feel like it was the time of day that was unusual (even if alcohol did not work within the game, he was not one to hang around bars during the day), but rather the fact that they were strangers to each other. He couldn't say what made him invite the man, aside from pure curiosity. "What can I say—spontaneity is the key to a fruitful life," Morningstar replied. He was not sure if the quote had come from his min

The party reached the ship without trouble. First to climb aboard and enter the fight was Morningstar, clad in his tired old cloak. With a leap between boats, he found himself gripping a weathered rope ladder with both hands. He ascended, placing one hand on his blade handle when he reached the top. Meteor glowed bright gold as it slid from its scabbard and tasted the salty breeze. His hood flew off, revealing a wide grin and messy hair. He hurdled the edge of the ship, eyes eagerly scanning its layout. Four deckhands stood idly, cutlasses in hand. Trusting those who would come behind him

He took another sip of his beverage, still deciding whether he liked it or not. It was difficult to pinpoint what type of melon was used in it which was strange, considering they were often distinct in taste. He took the straw between two fingers and stirred it around the slushy, aquamarine drink. The armored man still wore his helmet and Morningstar had taken notice. He was a cautious fellow and that was understandable in a world as dangerous as Aincrad. Even so, they were safe so long as they were within the city. He smiled at the connection the man had made. "Yeah, like the devil."

Morningstar was glad to hear that the man was on board with his idea. It was a strange request, especially considering the time of day and lack of familiarity the two had with each other. He gestured deeper into the town. A few shopkeepers were closing up for the night but a bit further on, one store remained open and welcome to customers. Expecting his new acquaintance to follow his lead, he began walking towards the old bar. He had not been around in some time; however, he was considered a regular there. There was something enjoyable about not having to worry about the effects of alcoho

Morningstar shrugged, unfazed by the less than friendly response. "Nothing in particular." Despite them being similar heights, he felt like he was staring up at a giant. It had less to do with physical size and more the dramatically intense suit of armor the stranger had chosen to sport. Under different circumstances, Morningstar may have mistaken him for an endgame boss. Admittedly, he liked the man's style. He looked out of place in the Town of Beginnings but in a dungeon, he'd be terrifying. He almost moved on, ending the interaction, but curiosity got the best of him. "Cool armor

His reflection in the store window seemed foreign. He adjusted his cloak slightly to no avail. What was once forest green was now sunset red and while it may have objectively suited him, he still felt as if he were looking at a stranger. Perhaps it was the hair, though. It was longer than he was comfortable with; he had never grown it longer than his ears before. Now, it reached below his jaw easily. The gentle breeze kicked it up into his face, momentarily obstructing his vision. His eyes were just as they had been before. They were his mother's—at least, that's what people liked to