They finally arrived.

Imaya felt thirsty and hungry and tired, she had no money and no weapons, no bag of supplies and no clean clothing … but she had Teva’ryn. She had Teva’ryn, and the two of them had made it to the city. To Fortram.

Imaya had sacrificed the Ability point she had been saving for later, unlocking Archer’s Respite just so that they had something to defend themselves with. Even so they had came close to dying more times than she could count. Now she looked up at the high walls, at the promise of safety right in front of her, and couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her cheek. A blue hand landed on her shoulder, gripping it reassuringly. Imaya turned to Teva’ryn with a smile.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Happy tears.”

“Happy tears,” Teva’ryn repeated, rubbing his chin. He did that a lot, ever since his silvery stubble started to get longer.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Imaya said. “We’ll be fine.”

First things first, she and Teva’ryn would have to claim their Quest rewards; she didn’t know how to do that yet, but she distinctly remembered that completing the Repel the swarm Quest had earned them 300 credits. Once she and Teva’ryn had that money in their hands, they would be able to buy food and lodging.

Unfortunately, people were standing in a line just outside the city. Imaya bounced on her feet nervously, watching a pair of guards that stood at the roadside. They wore green uniforms with gray stripes, with some kind of magic-rifle slung across their shoulders and a sword resting at their hip. They didn’t seem to be inspecting anyone, though; the line formed in front of the rotating wall simply because everyone was waiting for the gate to turn this way.

Imaya looked at the last person in the line, a merchant with a wagon full of boxes and barrels. If she was going to have to wait out here, she could use this time to ask questions. The merchant was a portly man, seemingly alone, though he had some kind of skeletal dog-thing at his leg. Imaya rubbed her eyes. Was that a robot-horse attached to the wagon?

Imaya bounced on her feet some more. Ever since her team – her former team – had encountered that Bolob caravan in the forest, she had known that native humans had access to all kind of magic—sort of. Strictly speaking, humans born in this world had only one type of magic; the ability to take and use the magic of other species. Imaya knew that the magical arts required years of learning to master, and so she had imagined that an average person needed to specialize. Yet this portly merchant was clearly using both Golemancy and Necromancy, so … perhaps he was someone powerful or important? Only one way to find out. Imaya tugged on Teva’ryn’s shirt, then approached the merchant.

“E-Excuse me?”

The man turned around slowly, taking a long, measuring look at Imaya. She was suddenly very much aware how awful she must have looked, with her unwashed hair and face streaked with tears and dirt. Hopefully the grime on her cheeks hid her blush at least.

“What is it, miss?” the merchant asked.

“Sorry for disturbing you,” Imaya said. “I’ve just been wondering if you could tell me where Players usually go within the city. Like, where they go for Quest rewards and such.”

“You’re looking for the bountyhouse, I reckon.”

“I see,” Imaya said, hesitating. “And that is … where, exactly?”

“Hop on the back of the wagon,” the merchant said with a grunt. “I’m going to the middle ring anyway.”

Imaya looked down at the skeletal dog with a question on the tip of her tongue, but decided not to risk it. She didn’t want the merchant to change his mind about giving them a ride.

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks.”

She dragged Teva’ryn to the back of the wagon and the two of them clambered up, sitting with their backs against the boxes and dangling their feet over the edge. It felt amazing to finally rest her legs. Imaya sighed contently, then wiggled a bit to make herself more comfortable, leaning against Teva’ryn’s shoulder. She decided to rest her eyelids while they waited… Just a little bit, until they reached the gate…

“So comfy…”

She closed her eyes only for a moment, but a voice was already telling her to wake her up. Someone patted her cheek softly.

“We arrive, Imaya.”

“Woah!” Imaya jerked upright, then almost fell off the wagon. The sun was no longer high in the sky, and she saw houses all around her. They were already inside the city!

“Come,” Teva’ryn said, helping Imaya down. She saw that the merchant was watching them grumpily.

“T-Thanks again!” Imaya said, but the man was already leaving. She didn’t even have a chance to ask where that bountyhouse was! Well, she could just ask someone else. The city around them was buzzing with activity, and Imaya could barely decide where to look first. So many people! The clothes they wore struck her as old-fashioned but stylish. There were many oddities though, like that guy who had just passed them; he wore a sleeveless tunic, showing off a pair of mechanical arms. They whirred softly as the man shifted his bag from one shoulder to another—his robotic fingers had no issue grabbing the straps of the bag with precision.

“Eek!” Imaya yelped as she turned too fast and bumped into Teva’ryn. A skeleton in maid uniform was coming straight toward them! It wore a painted facemask to hide its skull, but Imaya could still see its bony neck—not to mention the skeletal hands, and the legs peeking out of the black skirt. The joints were held together by some faint, purple glow. The skeleton-maid came uncomfortably close to Teva’ryn – Imaya had already hid behind her friend – but just before it could have collided with them, it abruptly changed direction to go around them. A carriage pulled by four robotic deer thundered down the street, and a man straddling a rhino-like golem shouted angrily as he pulled to a screeching halt, almost colliding with the carriage. So many golems! Most of them were made of metal, usually unpainted, but Imaya spotted one that seemed to be made of clay, standing in front of a restaurant in a waiter’s uniform and handing small sheets of paper to every passerby.

“Oh, wow,” Imaya said, turning this way and that. Everything was so new! She felt like a new player who skipped the tutorial and got placed in the high-level content.

“There,” Teva’ryn pointed at a large brick building on the other side of the street. A man wearing a bright red robe with a pointed wizard hat had just exited the place. If that strangely-clothed man wasn’t a Player, Imaya would eat his hat!

“You’re right, Teva’ryn,” she said. “That should be the bountyhouse.”

As the two of them crossed the street, Imaya saw a bunch of small placards on the wall and went closer to read one. The text on it had been printed, but there was also a hand-drawn face of a young woman on the bottom half. According to the notice, this person called Lorette went missing on the day after the Night of Abundance after leaving the amusement park in Blossom District. The reward for anyone finding her was 150 gold coins, or a smaller portion of that for clues about her whereabouts.

Quest received: Lost Lorette

“Woah,” Imaya whispered. She looked at the long row of placards, suddenly feeling excited. Well, she had already felt excited, but now she was even more excited than before! But she reminded herself quickly that it wasn’t new Quests that they had come here for. Taking one last longing look at the Quest notices, Imaya walked up to the entrance of the bountyhouse. Its inside was huge, and very professional-looking. It reminded Imaya of a bank, actually—and now it was time to inquire about their payment. Imaya took a deep breath, then walked up to an empty counter.

“Excuse me—”

The rest of the sentence got caught in her throat.

“What can I help you with?” Randel asked from behind the counter, not even looking up as he doodled something on a paper.

“R-Randel?!”

It really was him. Randel looked up at her, blinked, then a wide smile spread slowly over his face.

“Hello Imaya, Teva’ryn,” he said. “I’m so glad that you made it! It looks like you’ve been through hell.”

“W-What are you doing in there, Randel?”

“Working as a forensic artist, mostly,” the dark-haired man replied. “I also do some customer service when needed. There isn’t all that much sketching to do, sadly.”

“No, I mean—what the heck?”

Imaya didn’t understand anything anymore. Teva’ryn leaned in above her and asked something on his language, to which Randel replied haltingly. Devi’s name was spoken once or twice.

“Devi is fine too, by the way,” Randel said when he turned back to Imaya. “So, what can I help you with?”

How could this happen? Why did this happen? Randel was the same beginner Player as Imaya! What was he doing on the other side of the counter? And Devi—hadn’t he kidnapped her? He had stabbed her! Imaya remembered the blood and—she was fine?

“W-We have only just arrived to the city,” Imaya said when she finally found her voice. “We have no money, so … I thought we should take our Quest rewards. For the Quest we completed in the Dungeon.”

“I see,” Randel said, tapping his pen against his paper. “Well, you should visit Fortram’s World Seed then; that’s where you can get your collar-generated rewards and your Player Allowance. The bountyhouse is just for the mundane requests and rewards, you know.”

Imaya made a face at that. “And … how far is this World Seed?”

“In the middle of the city—but look, I have a better idea. How about I close shop here, then invite you over to crash at my place? I have warm shower, snacks, and even a sofa to sleep on. Teva’ryn over there looks barely able to keep his eyes open.”

Imaya winced, glancing up at Teva’ryn guiltily. Had her Sylven friend stayed awake while she slept on the wagon? Imaya turned back to Randel, considering his offer. It was … well, she hadn’t forgotten what happened in the Dungeon. But even if she had mixed feelings about Randel, she and Teva’ryn definitely needed help.

“I, umm … yes. Some place to rest would be nice.”

“Alright. Be right back,” Randel said, then disappeared in the room behind him. He came back a few minutes later, having traded his gray uniform for a linen shirt and baggy pants. He pressed a waterskin into Imaya’s hand, from which Imaya drank greedily until she remembered to leave some for Teva’ryn too. Randel then led them out the city, pushing through the crowd confidently.

Imaya learned soon enough that traffic in Fortram was outright chaos. There were no traffic lights at the intersections and no crosswalks either. Randel stepped off the walkway casually, letting a giant tortoise-like golem pass in front of him before raising a hand, stopping the next carriage so that they could get across.

“Hey, Randel?” Imaya asked once they were on the other side. “Can you tell me how much 300 credits are worth?”

“Hmm? Oh, one credit equals one gold coin. Here, this is what a credit card looks like.”

He handed Imaya a small card, not unlike an actual credit card from Earth but with a digital display on one side that read 10 credits in bold green letters. The technology looked oddly out of place for this world—much like their collar.

“Credit cards are used by the rich,” Randel said. “Carrying around hundreds of gold in a bag is not too practical, you see.”

“So … Players are rich?”

“Pretty much,” Randel said. “Player-stuff sold at the World Seed might cost thousands of credits, which is a great way to waste your money, but compared to normal people we are indeed rich. You’ll find more credits on your Player Allowance than you earned through Quests, by the way. The Inspectors are throwing free money at us.”

“How much?”

Randel shrugged. “It depends on the person, apparently. Devi asked other Players about it, but nobody seems to be sure why. The more often you go on adventures, the higher your Player Allowance tends to be.”

“Yes, but how much?” Imaya insisted, looking back down to the credit card in her hand. “Like, how many credits did you get?”

“Enough to buy a building in the lower ring.”

“Enough to—what? You mean you bought an apartment to live in?”

“Nope,” Randel said, amused by her reaction. “I bought an entire multi-storey building.”

“W-Why do you need an entire building?!”

Randel shrugged again. “It seemed like a good deal.”

Imaya didn’t fully believe that answer … but she got distracted by a group of chattering teenagers in school uniform, and then by the alchemy shop behind them that was full of potions, and then by a small dog-like golem that ran at the edge of the road, carrying letters in its mouth.

Imaya realized that Randel was leading them toward a gate, one that presumably opened to what Randel called the lower ring. The sun disappeared slowly behind the high wall, casting a long shadow over the city. Was it already so late? The street lights that lined up the main road were getting turned on, manually, by a pair of robotic giraffes of all things. One by one, they touched their heads against the magic-globes on the top of the poles to light them up with a green glow.

“Yeah, public lighting kinda sucks,” Randel commented. “Luckily the moon is bright enough to see by, but I still wouldn’t recommend walking around in the night. Too many disappearances, and the City Watch can’t do much about them.”

Were there outlaw Players in this city? Imaya bet there were. She found it worrying that Fortram wasn’t as safe as she had hoped it would be, but she tried not to dwell on it right now. They had finally reached the gate, and she looked around in wonder as the three of them passed through, intent to catch up on all the details she had missed while she slept. The wall was part of the middle section of the city, which meant that it wasn’t only the high wall that kept rotating, but the entire city itself. Amazing! In spite of how massive this entire thing had to be, it barely let out any sound as it moved. The boundary between rings was completely seamless and the stone-covered ground turned like a well-oiled wheel.

When they stepped off to the other side, Randel looked around, hesitating for a while.

“This way … I think.”

“You think?” Imaya asked. “You don’t know where your building is?”

“I would know, if it wasn’t always at a different place,” Randel said. “Luckily it’s right beside the wall, and it’s not far from here … I think.”

Imaya huffed, but followed Randel quietly. Truthfully, she was grateful—she just felt a bit cranky because of everything she had been through recently. Once she finally got her feet under herself, she would make sure to thank Randel properly. She would also figure out what to do with her money, whether to spend it on Player-equipment or invest it in something. Definitely not on something as frivolous as buying a house right off the bat.

Imaya wondered what Teva’ryn would do. She looked up at the stoic man who had saved her life so many times. Would he spend his money on gear that increased his chances of survival? Was there something else he desired? In spite of how much time the two of them had spent together, Imaya barely knew anything about him. Language barrier was the worst kind of barrier.

“Aha! There it is,” Randel said. “We got lucky—I mean, I told you it was close, didn’t I?”

The building in question was about four or five floors high, its peeling plaster and broken windows barely illuminated by the nearest streetlight. For some reason, the knowledge that Randel bought only a ramshackle building made Imaya feel a bit better. Players were rich, but not outright so rich that they could afford a palace! Randel led the way up to the first floor, scaling a rusty fire escape on the side of the building. He stopped beside a heavy door, pulling Soul Eater out of his belt.

“What are you doing?” Imaya asked, wary of the black weapon.

“This is my key in,” Randel replied. He opened the mailbox by the door and tossed his dagger into it—and then he vanished. Imaya could hear a series of clicks and clatter from the other side before the door swung open.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Randel said, inviting them in. “Sorry about how it looks, we didn’t have much time to decorate it.”

Imaya stepped into a spacious room illuminated by a magic-lamp hanging from the ceiling. She saw a small kitchen right next to the entrance, a king-sized bed on the other end of the room, and paintings on stands by the windows. Two closed doors were located next to the kitchen, and the sound of running water was slipping through the closer one.

“Devi, we have guests!” Randel said, kicking off his shoes. The floor was covered by a soft carpet that looked brand new. Imaya took off her boots too, though her feet were no less dirty, unfortunately.

“So … you and Devi live together?” Imaya asked.

“Yeah, we’re roommates,” Randel said. “Devi spent all of her money on a stupid weapon, so she doesn’t even have a choice if she wants to sleep under a roof. Are you still thirsty? We have water, but it needs to be boiled first to be drinkable.”

Before Imaya could have replied, the door next to the kitchen swung outwards.

“Did you say something, Randel?” Devi asked, walking out of the bathroom, holding a small towel that barely covered her chest. For a moment they both stared at each other in surprise, then Devi smiled, and Imaya pinched Teva’ryn’s side to make him look away.

“Hi guys,” Devi greeted them. “I get dressed quick, okay?”

She retreated to the bathroom, but left the door wide open. Imaya cleared her throat awkwardly, glancing at Randel—who hadn’t even bothered to look up, too busy trying to light the stove.

“I, umm, didn’t know you had that kind of relationship,” Imaya said. It shouldn’t have been that surprising, yet Imaya found this development unexpected anyway. She felt her cheeks heat up. A human and a Sylven…? Could that even work?

“We aren’t sleeping with each other, if that’s what you’re wondering about,” Randel said.

“What do you mean?” Devi asked from the bathroom. “I sleep with you every night!”

“Hush now, Imaya’s face is already red as a tomato.”

Imaya did her best to not look at anyone or anywhere, especially not at the Sylven man beside her.

“Stupid-complex human slangs,” Devi grumbled. “How can a girl learn language like this?”

That gave Imaya a pause, at the very least; only now did she realize how well Devi was speaking. When had they arrived to Nerilia? One month ago? Two? The days blurred together, and Imaya had never even bothered to count them in the first place. Nevertheless, it was amazing how much Devi had already learned—and mostly from Randel, no less! Sometimes even Imaya had trouble making sense of what Randel said, and they were speaking the same language.

Devi returned from the bathroom shortly, wearing a blue sweater and matching cotton pants. She berated Randel for making his guests stand in the doorway, grabbed a bunch of spare clothes from beside the bed, and pushed Imaya into the bathroom to take a shower and change.

The shower was heaven. If Imaya had been on Earth, she would have probably complained—but as things stood, this was the very best shower she took in months. Pure bliss! Only the knowledge that Teva’ryn was waiting for his turn got her to hurry up. Devi’s clothes were ill-fitting and embarrassing to wear, but Imaya persevered. She would not be called a tomato again. The sweater was so large that it reached down to her knees, but at least it covered her well.

Devi pressed a mug of tea into her hands as soon as she was out of the shower. Curiously enough, the Sylven girl then retreated to the kitchen to continue her quiet conversation with Randel, neither of them asking Imaya any questions. At first Imaya thought they were excluding her, but then she realized that they were actually giving her space. Probably? However intentional it was, Imaya appreciated it. She needed a little time to gather herself.

Taking another look around, Imaya noticed a sofa by the windows and a mannequin in the corner, dressed up in leather armor. She walked across the room, wandering aimlessly, her bare feet sinking into the soft carpet. Considering that Randel and Devi had moved in only recently, the place felt surprisingly … homely. It made Imaya a tiny bit envious.

Randel had made quite a few paintings already, she saw. A picture of a giant sweller and another one about a sparkling golem were propped against the wall, under the window. A couple of unfinished pieces lay next to them, nothing more than smudges of colors. There was also a canvas that seemed to be torn up, the remaining piece depicting swirling flames.

The painting currently on the stand was the most detailed; Imaya recognized the silhouettes of Randel and Devi on it, with Fortram between them in the sunlit background. The picture was framed by the opening of a cave, the Dungeon that the two silhouettes were leaving behind; they looked at each other as they walked away, their arms outstretched in a fist bump. It was a really cool picture. Imaya clutched her mug just a little tighter, wishing her own escape could have been like that.

She didn’t know how long she stood like that, her eyes on the painting. She hated it. She realized that she hated it. The Dungeon had been nothing like that, no beauty, no glory, just pain and loss and death. Simon had gone mad and died, Pell and Tamara had gone missing and probably died too, and Imaya … she had lost something precious behind. It was something she had clung onto all this time, held onto it like a lifeline. It was a hope and a dream, it was her belief that this place worked like a videogame, the expectation that even if the challenges were hard, they were fair.

But the world was not fair, neither Earth nor Nerilia, and Imaya was still the same loser girl she had always been, the same frightened little child who buried herself in fantasies where walking off into the sunset was possible. Imaya watched the painting that she hated so, so much, and she didn’t even know when her tears began to fall. A blue hand gripped her shoulder, but the fingers were too soft, not firm and calming like Teva’ryn’s fingers.

“Don’t believe that it is over,” Imaya said, her throat dry. She wiped at her tears before turning to Devi.

“What do you mean?” the Sylven girl asked, her eyes concerned.

Imaya pointed at the painting. “The fight is not over like that. Those giants … they were moving, Devi. We were barely able to lose them when we escaped from the Dungeon. They walk slowly, but they are leaving the Dungeon behind.”

“Leaving? Where are they going?”

“To this city, I think,” Imaya said, sniffing. “And when they arrive … no amount of golems and skeletons will be able to stop them.”