Victor of Tucson

The few days following his visit to Tria’s shop were some of the best days Victor could ever remember. Reflecting on that time, he knew it was because he spent it with Valla, and they didn’t feel like there was anything they had to do, no emergency they had to handle. Nothing felt like life or death, and they took their time sleeping in, touring villas and townhomes for sale, eating at restaurants, and forgetting about everyone else’s problems for a while. He’d purchased some low-tier dungeoneering gear, as Tria called it, for Darren and Edeya, and then he’d left them in Lam and Lesh’s capable hands while he worked on his first quest for Ranish Dar—procuring property in Sojourn.

Even after buying a few excellent items for the two low-level members of his entourage, he still had roughly a million Energy beads, but Victor quickly learned that a million beads wouldn’t go very far in Sojourn. He also learned that there were well-established money-lending institutions in the city and that he, being tier-six and having an epic-tier racial status, would easily qualify for enormous loans—all he had to do was sign his soul away.

That’s how he thought of it, at least, but even he’d admit he was being hyperbolic. The loans were structured in such a way that should he miss a payment, he’d start to notice a tiny draw on his Energy, a siphoning of his Core. If he continued to miss them, the draw would increase, and that process would repeat until he either became a living battery, feeding the bank a constant supply of Energy, or he paid the loan balance.

To Victor, the process sounded like glorified slavery, and he refused to consider it. Valla was in his corner, and so the property broker they’d found in the guidebook relented and began showing them homes that fit his budget—they weren’t exactly palatial. In the end, on the third day of touring, Victor settled on a small villa in an older part of Sojourn about an hour’s walk from the downtown crystal towers, and that was taking into account the sidewalks that sped a person’s movement.

The villa was sandwiched between two others, and they all shared courtyard walls, but those walls were thick, made of sturdy stone, and twelve feet tall—once inside, it felt private. The villa was old but well-made, built from whitewashed stone of some sort, and all the floors were tiled in a way that reminded Victor very much of Saltillo, so much so that he almost immediately agreed to the asking price of eight hundred thousand beads.

The home’s layout was simple, with a kitchen, dining room, parlor, three bedrooms, and a communal bath. Victor’s favorite part of the place was the basement, or cellar, which was spacious, cool, and fully lined with the same stone that made up the home. He figured it would be good enough for whatever Ranish Dar had planned with regard to a cultivation chamber.

Valla loved the courtyard and garden. It was clear that the previous owner had possessed a green thumb, and many of the mature plants bore fruit and flowers year-round in the city's mild climate. A small fountain trickled musically amid a tiny hidden nook surrounded by high, flowering shrubs, and it felt almost like a secret getaway from the rest of the city and even the home itself.

When Lam heard Victor had bought a property in Sojourn, she, of course, felt like she had to as well, but Victor talked her out of it. His home only had three bedrooms, but he reminded her about his travel home, saying he’d set it up in the courtyard. That opened a great deal more space for the group, and he reasoned it was silly for her to buy property when she had so much building and governing to get back to in the Free Marches.

Lam had agreed, and so, that’s where Victor and the others were, sitting outside in the garden on comfortable camp chairs with full bellies and glasses full of wine, when Ranish Dar’s magical messenger bird flitted over the wall and swooped its way through the garden until it found him. When it fluttered near his ear, it chirped so that only he could discern its words, “Read the message in the master’s Farscribe book!” It didn’t wait around for an answer. Rather, it streaked away into the night sky like a bottle rocket.

“I, uh, must have a message from Dar.” Victor quickly scanned through his storage ring for the appropriate Farscribe book and summoned it forth. He turned to the most recently filled page, just past the dense dissertation about his abilities and training that he’d written for Ranish Dar. On the new page, he found a short, elegantly scribed message:

Victor,

The time is nigh. Report to the World Hall at midnight.

-Ranish

“Huh. Short and sweet.” He sighed, stretching his neck until it popped like an inch-thick branch being snapped. “Guess I have to report to that dungeon tonight.”

“Dungeon?” Edeya asked, shooting to her feet. “I thought that was just me and Darren!” She’d grown quite comfortable with the idea over the last few days, and, according to Lesh, she and Darren had been working hard on their basic combat abilities, though Edeya was miles ahead of the one-time politician.

“Nah, my new, uh, shit, what do I call that guy? Teacher? I’m not calling him master. Anyway, he wants me to go into this competition dungeon so he can watch my performance and, I guess, earn some clout in the city if I kick some ass.”

Edeya looked from Lam to Lesh to Valla, scowling. “You knew about this?”

“Yes . . .” Lam started to say.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She looked incensed, and Victor couldn’t quite figure out why, especially half-inebriated as he was. When Lam frowned and didn’t reply immediately, she whirled on Victor. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t come up! You were busy with Lam or Lesh whenever we talked about it. What’s the . . .”

“So you would have just slipped away tonight if I hadn’t been here when that magic bird arrived?”

Victor felt his pulse quicken, felt the heat of indignation on his neck, and then he felt Valla’s cool fingers gripping his wrist. He took a deep breath and said, “Hell no, Dey!” He and Valla had picked up on Lam’s affectionate nickname for Edeya and had used variations of it frequently while she recovered. “I would’ve said goodbye. You don’t need to be worried; Dar says this dungeon has training wheels.”

“Training wheels?” She frowned, turning to Valla with questioning eyes.

Valla nodded, smiling reassuringly. “He’ll wear a talisman that will transport him out of the dungeon if he becomes badly wounded.” Of course, Victor had neglected to mention to her or the others Dar’s exact words, leaving off the part about how someone killed suddenly or near-instantly—he couldn’t remember the exact words—couldn’t be protected by the talismans.

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“Do the other dungeons have those?” Darren asked, sudden hope blooming in his eyes.

Lesh laughed and slapped his back, nearly knocking him off his chair. “Not the one you’re going into, fosterling. However, the system sometimes awards recall tokens. Perhaps you’ll win something like that along the way.”

“So, how long will you be gone?” Edeya asked, ignoring the side conversation.

“No idea. I guess until I clear the dungeon.” He looked at Lam and Lesh. “There’s probably a boss or something, right?”

Lesh answered first, “I know not. I’ve never seen a dungeon built for competitions, nor one that allowed certain parties as spectators. I have, of course, heard tales of people competing within a dungeon—killing each other over treasures or trying to cut off access to the deeper levels. On my homeworld, there are many dungeons with entrances controlled by different factions, and I’ve witnessed great battles to clear those entrances, allowing rival factions to enter. What you are about to partake in sounds far more organized.”

“I’m no help either, Victor. I fought in some dungeons on Fanwath, but never to the end and never under any sort of organized control.” Lam took a drink of her wine and smiled with purple-stained teeth. “I love your confidence, though. I wonder if there’s a place to make bets.” Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward in excitement. “I wonder if there’s a place for the public to watch!”

Valla’s grip tightened on Victor's wrist, and she, too, leaned forward in excitement. “Why didn’t we look into that? We’ve known about this for nearly a week! We’ll watch if we can, Victor!”

“Cool,” Victor sighed, chuckling as he began to relax again. He was too buzzed and too happy, surrounded by his friends, to be stressed about anything. He was especially happy to see Edeya looking like her old self, irate as she still seemed about his imminent departure. “Anyone got the time?”

Lesh surprised him by producing a delicate, golden pocket watch. “Four hours to midnight.”

“Thanks.”

“Is that it?” Edeya asked, back in her seat but still looking irritated.

“What?” Victor took another drink.

“Darren and I are scheduled to go into the Grotto in two days. Do you think you’ll be back?” Her voice, very slightly tremulous, which was a sharp turn from her indignation a minute ago, took Victor by surprise. They’d picked the “Grotto” as the first dungeon for her and Darren because it was listed in the guidebook as “safe and suitable for Classless teams or solo explorers.”

“Hey, two days? Shit, I’ll be shocked if I’m in that place that long. If I am, though, you guys are going to do great.” He looked at Darren, amused by the idea that he was giving a guy nearly ten years his senior encouragement.

Some humor must have been evident in his expression because Edeya shot to her feet and strode down the path leading to the kitchen's back door, her wings dropping motes of blue lights along the cobbles in her wake. “I don’t know why everything’s a joke to you,” she said without looking back.

“What the hell?” Victor asked, looking from Valla to Lam, genuinely perplexed by the outburst.

“I’d go after her,” Lam said, “but I think you should, Victor. She feels guilty for you being here, guilty that you must go into that dungeon, and so she’s lashing out. I’m sure that’s what it is.”

“I’ll try . . .” Victor stood, but before he left, he looked around the group. From Darren, with his long black hair and dark eyes, to Lesh, sprawled in the gravel, no chair needed, to Lam, still smiling despite the outburst, to Valla, looking at him with concern in her eyes. “I, um, appreciate you all. I hope you know that. I’m not upset or worried about this dungeon, either. Not sure you all know this. I mean, I know Valla does, but I love competition, and I’m kind of looking forward to it. So, anyway, if anyone else is feeling raw about things, don’t.” His impromptu speech seemed to catch them all by surprise. Valla smiled, and he saw from the eager expression in her eyes that she was pleased.

Lesh nodded solemnly. “You will crush them beneath your boot. I only wish I could fight at your side.”

Darren surprised him by agreeing. “As Elder Lesh said, Victor, the soft people of this world don’t know what they’re in for.”

Lesh barked a rough laugh that almost sounded like a roar. “Well said, fosterling!”

“Darren, if you aren’t careful, I’m going to end up thinking you’re an all-right guy.” Victor snorted, shaking his head as he started after Edeya. He was relieved to find her in the kitchen, rooting through the pantry. “Hey,” he said, sitting on one of the benches that lined the long wooden table.

She groaned. “I’m such a dummy. I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s going on with me.” She didn’t look at him while she spoke, and he could tell she was close to crying.

He decided to play dumb. “Hungry? I’ve got some damn good pastries stashed away. I got ‘em in Coloss.”

“Pastries?” She looked at him, closing the pantry door.

“Yeah. Sugary, buttery, a little cinnamon-like spice, but different. You’ll see.” He stared off into space for a minute while he looked through his rings, trying to find the treats in question. When he couldn’t, he groaned and slapped his forehead. “Dammit! I think they were in one of my dimensional pouches. They got destroyed in the volcano.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice small, as she sat beside him.

“Don’t give up hope! I have other stuff stowed away.” He kept looking for a minute and then snapped his fingers. “Aha!” A second later, he deposited a tray of gooey molasses cookies with some kind of dried fruit he couldn’t name pressed into the center. It was soft and sweet, almost like a date. “These’ll solve the craving. Don’t remember where I . . .”

“Gelica! I used to get these from a bakery near Lam’s estate!” Edeya grabbed one and took a big bite.

“Hey,” he said, while her mouth was full and she couldn’t interrupt, “You didn’t hear me out there, but you need to know that there’s nothing to be upset about with me going into this dungeon. Remember I told you it would be good for me to have a mentor, even if I didn’t come here looking for one? Well, this is part of that. I’m looking forward to it. I’m looking forward to the competition, to the fighting, to the treasure, but mostly I just fucking love the attention. Shit, Edeya, I was like that before I ever had a single level. Back on my homeworld, I used to wrestle for sport, and it was pretty much the only damn thing I was good at. I loved to hear the crowd! I loved looking at the stands when the ref held my hand up at the end of the match, watching them cheer and stomp their feet on the bleachers. You know about the pits, about the Coloss arena, shit, you saw me on the battlefield. I’m built for this. Don’t feel bad, all right?”

“Promise? Promise you don’t resent me?”

“Never. You’re so important to me, chica! You’re, shit, you’re my oldest friend. You know that?” Victor felt moisture in his eyes and shook his head, squeezing them tight.

“I know. I’m so sorry about Sarl, Victor.” They were both sitting with their backs to the table, their legs away from it, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, taking his big hand in her delicate, slender fingers. “Promise me you’re not going to die in there?”

“Promise me you’ll be okay in the Grotto?”

“I promise!” she said immediately.

“All right, I promise, too.” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, smiling and inhaling, savoring and memorizing the scent of her hair—beeswax and honey and something like vanilla. “I’m gonna remember this moment the next time you’re calling me a big dummy.”

“That’s all right. I want you to,” she said, her voice quiet and happy. They sat that way a while longer, and then the rest of the party came inside, and the spell was broken. They relocated to the parlor, but everyone stopped drinking, giving Victor a chance to sober up. After visiting for a bit longer, most of the others went to bed, hugging Victor goodbye and good luck. Valla and Victor sat together for another hour, holding hands and being content in each other’s silent company.

When Victor stood and cleared his throat, Valla did, too, and she surprised him by saying, “Lesh and I have been talking.”

“Oh?”

“We want to go into a dungeon when Edeya and Darren enter the Grotto. There’s a tier-six dungeon called Desperation Gap, and there are rumors of unique System rewards and titles for clearing it.”

“Valla, I . . .”

“Don’t want me to risk my life? Too bad, lover. I know this competition you’re going into isn’t as safe as you claim. I understand, though. It’s the life we’ve chosen—we, Victor, not you. Lesh and I need this. If you’re back, maybe you can come with us, but I know Ranish Dar might have other plans, so don’t let it weigh heavy on your mind. Promise me?”

“Ugh! So many promises tonight!” Victor smiled and shook his head. “I won’t ever try to hold you back, Valla. I love you and trust you. If I’m not back, or if I can’t go, then, yeah, go kick some ass with the big, acid-spitting bruiser.” She smiled at his words and grabbed him around the waist, hugging him tightly. He kissed her, tried to leave, and nearly got bowled over as she slammed into him, demanding another hug and another long kiss. He savored it and tried to memorize her taste and smell, and when he began to laugh, interrupting their amorous moment, she pulled back, looking scandalized.

“You’re laughing?”

“It’s just . . . I’m trying to memorize how you feel and taste, and I did the same with Edeya. I mean her smell. When I realized I was doing it, I thought it was fucking weird, and it made me laugh.”

“It’s not weird! I was doing the same!” Her scowl melted into a rich laugh, and Victor loved the sound of it. “Now go before I drag you inside and make you late.”

Victor nodded, gave her one more quick kiss, and then walked out the gate onto the sidewalk. He knew he could make it in time if he walked, but he didn’t want to be there without any time to spare, so he started jogging, and the magical sidewalk boosted his speed proportionately. With his gaze focused on the brilliant towers and the rainbow walkways of the god-like beings at their pinnacles, the sides of his vision began to blur as he flew through the city.

He felt good; he hadn’t been lying to his friends. He decided the way to describe him was profoundly full of anticipation, excited about the many potentials unfolding in his future. He laughed and shook his head, “Fuck that! I’m stoked!” That was the truth of it: He was stoked as hell, ready to kick some ass, and happy to know that he wouldn’t have to kill anyone. If some of the other competitors wanted to mess with him, he’d just beat the shit out of them until their Lifeguard talismans bailed them out.

“Fuck yeah!” he yelled into the wind as he charged through the streets, almost ripping Lifedrinker from her harness and screaming for his ancestors to watch him, but he stopped himself with a wild laugh. It wasn’t quite time for that. When he arrived at the World Hall, it was just as busy as ever; Sojourn wasn’t a city that slept much. He only had to look around for a moment, though, before Dar found him. The great, dark, stone-like man stomped toward him, seemingly out of nowhere.

His voice rumbled and cracked through the air, “Good, Victor. You look vibrant and ready for the challenge.”

Victor nodded. “I’m ready.”

Dar smiled, his weird, stony flesh bending inexplicably. His fiery eyes blazed, and he said, “Don your armor and gird yourself, apprentice. There are twenty-seven entrants, the highest number in a century, and four are tier-nine.”

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