2 - Black

Nathaniel gets made fun of, and a giant worm nearly has a tastey snack.

Nathaniel was slumped low in the chair as his father prattled on, stretched easy and comfortable on the leather couch.

 

“Father.”

 

“And then I…”

 

“Father,” Nathaniel said. His back was cramping. The doorbell rang again.

 

“His face! It was…”

 

“Father,” he said again, “I have to get that.”

 

“Is it Selena? So lovely, that girl of yours.”

 

Nathaniel pressed the door closed behind him, hands splayed against cool wood. Even as the bell chimed, the silence was blessed. A servant was hurrying down the spiral stairs, and Nathaniel waved her away.

 

It wasn’t Selena. On the concrete porch was a big man with a small package. Nathaniel was grateful. Now if only the way to his room was clear.

 

Nathaniel only got halfway before being waylaid by his mother.

 

“Who was that? Selena? Oh, a package?”

 

“No mother, be careful, that’s..!”

 

Nathaniel was as she turned the box over and over in her hands before her fingers settled on the recipient tag. “For you, then. What is it?”

 

“My game. It’s Aeon.” Nathaniel’s mother was a small woman, grown harder around the edges the longer she spent with his father. The older Nathaniel had gotten, the farther they’d drifted apart, all three of them. But he still remembered more than a decade earlier; gentle hands soothing away a nightmare.

 

“Let’s take a look together, shall we? Make mother happy.”

 

*

 

It was easy for his mother to join him; a simple hook-up allowed her a hands-on approach to Nathaniel’s new game. He could only sit back and watch as his mother shredded his plans with every press of her fingers. He could only watch as the avatar became unrecognizable in hair and eyes and body. Then came the final choice, some time later, and Nathaniel gave up.

 

*

 

After orienting himself in the game world (and making sure his mother was far, far away) Nathaniel found himself near a river. He crouched at the edge, ignoring the dampness under his sandaled feet. The reflection proved what he’d already known. Everything about him was gold and white but for his skin, which was stained caramel.

 

Though Nathaniel appreciated his new tan (he’d been trying for years, but he was so pale he burned in no time at all) it stopped there. His face was rounded and soft, his lips full, and his eyes too big. Nathaniel’s body was no better; everything about it was slender and delicate. His hair was loose and long enough to kiss his tailbone through the thin material of his shirt.

 

The shirt hung to his knees, gold embroidered and silt up the sides, easily catching in the breeze. The pants were similar, flaring out over his feet. The outfit was almost blindingly white, and Nathaniel eyes the muddy ground, sorely tempted. But there was one thing stopping him. The worst of all this: the feathered wings on his back.

 

He looked nothing like himself. He looked like a girl.

 

*

 

(Name �" Sable. Health �" 75/75. Strength �" 4/10. Agility �" 10/10. Intelligence �" 6/10. Charisma �" 10/10. Durability �" 4/10.)

 

I must have the weakest character in the game! At this rate, I’ll have to do a helluva lot of mooching. At least I got to choose my name.

 

With on a knife, it was dangerous for him to be alone in even a low level area like this one. The map said a newbie village wasn’t too far, so instead of sulking about any longer, Nathaniel took off. Only he couldn’t, because there was a rather large something blocking his path.

 

Of course I’d meet a boss now when I have absolutely no way of defending myself.

 

The worm reared back, towering over Nathaniel. Then it opened its mouth.

 

‘Oh my god,’ he said. ‘That’s not even fair.’

 

It was wide enough to swallow him whole. The worm lunged at him, and he threw himself to the side, but Nathaniel had forgotten his wings. He hit the ground hard. One of the wings was wedged beneath his elbow and it hurt; the muscles in his back strained under the pull. Nathaniel was so distracted he failed to notice the worm’s body swinging towards him at high speed.

 

With one wing pinned, the other was sticking out and making a rather nice target. The worm slammed into it and sent Nathaniel spinning into the trees. The slammed into the tree back first, feeling the bark splinter under the impact.

 

The pain was sudden and strong. The HUD informed him as his health took a sudden nosedive. Nathaniel didn’t consider even for a second staying, fighting. Tucking his wings in as close as he could, he ran hard, twigs snapping underfoot and reaching branches snagging both feathers and skin. Nathaniel knew it was still there, in the trembling earth, closing in. The ground was no longer safe. But these twisted wings, would they fly?

 

Extending them was agony, but nothing compared to the lift and fall, every shuddery movement like strips of flesh being peeled away. Trying this now, with wings battered and unused, was insanity. But he couldn’t allow himself to die like this; he hadn’t even been playing for half an hour yet. So, with a great amount of effort, Nathaniel’s feet finally left the ground. One inch, another, and then he was above the forest. He flew in a random direction, on and on, until, exhausted, he crashed into a tree and blacked out.

 

*

 

The world was still spiraling out of control when Nathaniel opened his eyes, and he gulped down air, letting the cool dirt beneath him steady his pounding heart. When Nathaniel decided he wasn’t going to empty his stomach, he finally took notice of the figure hovering over him. Long grey hair pulled back into a ponytail revealed the elegantly pointed ears of an elf. Metal bright eyes and sharp features were set in a curious expression.

 

Nathaniel took stock and found himself relatively wound and pain free. Surprised but grateful for the unexpected assistance, Nathaniel thanked his savior profusely, actually enjoying the freedom of a new face, even if it was excessively girly. He’d been taught to acknowledge favors but not make a fuss about them, to never let the other person think you owed them something. But this was not business, he was unrecognizable, and the elf kneeling beside him felt somehow gentle.

 

Yet another surprise. Nathaniel was feeling such good will he decided to politely ignore the way the other was considering his chest in confusion. Even watched in amusement as the boy filed away not a girl.

 

These games were a challenge to see who would become the strongest the fastest. Players did not stop to offer charity to others out of the kindness of their hearts. Except for this guy, apparently, because his eyes were clear of everything but worry.

 

“I’m Sable. And you are very, very strange.”

 

I’m Argent, the elf carved into the earth, And I may be strange, but at least my gender is obvious.

 

“Oi!” His was supposed to be frowning, goddamit, but the words weren’t anything but playfully mocking . “Can’t you talk?”

 

Argent spread his hands in a helpless gesture and shook his head.

 

So very strange.

 

“Did you know about the colossal worm boss sneaking around here? It’s what got me. We should team up for safety?”

 

*

 

After taking turns knife-throwing the small worms to death and gradually increasing in level, Argent suggested what they’d both been thinking.

 

We should try that big boss, he wrote. Unless you want to find a third?

 

Nathaniel scratched at his chin in thought, considering. Neither of them were particularly strong physically, but they were fast. Nathaniel more so, using his wings to propel himself, but Argent was supple. Where the wings prevented him bending certain ways without having to worry about them, the elf could fling himself through the trees in fantastic displays of acrobatics.

 

“We can do it.”

 

*

 

They couldn’t do it. Though speed was on their side, they’d forgotten one thing. Their knifes were tiny. TINY.

 

Argent, the stronger of the two, attacked the thing while Nathaniel played distraction, and the elf had landed several hits, thin cuts that just weren’t bleeding. He was slashing at it desperately with both his and Nathaniel’s weapons. The thing didn’t even seem to notice, and Nathaniel was dangling dangerously close to those rows of teeth. If his new partner didn’t think of something soon, he was going to get swallowed very, very soon, because even though his wings had appeared healed, they weren’t working the way Nathaniel was pretty damn sure they were supposed to. One was lagging, twitching downward just a second slower than the other, and they kept scraping together, each bent in a way that wasn’t obvious until he was using them.

 

Just when he was about to give up, dropping even closer to that gaping mouth, there was a sudden spray of blood. The worm swayed violently, screeching, and Nathaniel landed off to the side with a thump, gratefully giving his aching wings a rest. He glanced up wonderingly, because it was certainly impossible to make a wound like that with only two small blades. But instead of Argent, a stranger was

standing there, sword in hand.

 

We’ve been saved, he thought dryly. This was the second time today, and

Nathaniel was loathe to make a habit of it; after this, he was going to get himself a real weapon, because damn if they weren’t affective.

 

The new arrival had full armor, glinting brightly in the sun, face hidden by a helmet. The worm lunged unexpectedly, and while Nathaniel assumed the warrior would dodge the blow, he didn’t bother.

 

He watched as the man swung the sword down, and then the monster’s head was sitting rather far from its body.

 

What the hell?