I didn’t know how to react. What do you say to something like that?

“But...I think. I feel. I can taste, touch, smell, see, hear… I’m right here talking to you!”

Rafe smiled. “I’m sorry, that sounded pretty dark, didn’t it? Maybe I shouldn’t have said it that way. Reality...well, maybe it’s subjective. Some of us talked a lot about this, but I didn’t much care for those discussions. The philosophy of existence and things like that--I never had any patience for it. I’m more practical. I figured that whether this reality that we’re living in was ‘real’ or not, it felt that way so I might as well respond to it as if it was. For you, this all feels real, so it’s your reality.”

His glib answer did nothing to reassure me. Maybe that approach worked for him, but he was already certain of his existence--that he was truly a person and not some made up caricature. A thought occurred to me.

“Wait, this is why the words appear for you? Because you’re ‘real’?”

He nodded. “The idea of a world like this is nothing new to us. These kinds of constructs were made for entertainment, and people would enter these worlds and play in them, like a game. People would play to complete quests, get more powerful, or just to socialize.”

“So this is a...game to you?”

He pursed his lips.

“In a way, I guess. Our leader was brilliant, and this world that he created is unlike any that was made before. It feels much more, well, real I guess.”

I asked hesitantly, “Then why do I see the words, too?”

“Yes, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?”

I blinked. “Dollar?”

He shook his head. “Sorry, that was a form of currency back in the old world. Sort of like a copper coin. Yes, you’re fascinating because you’re the only NPC I’ve ever met that can see your character sheet and guide your path as you level up.”

“NPC?”

“Non-player character. Those of us you call the Two Hundred are players, and everyone else in this world is a non-player character. NPC.”

I remembered the things Veritas had told me before, how people didn’t select their skills or abilities and thought they organically grew them. People didn’t have choices like I did or like the...what did he call them...Players?

“Do you have any idea why I can see my status then? Choose my skills and abilities?”

He shook his head slowly.

“No, but Kyrie thinks you’re important. He must be interested in you because you’re different.”

Kyrie. My benefactor. My breath caught.

“Is he your leader?”

Rafe smiled, “He is, but not in the way you mean. Kyrie is his son, and he’s also my friend. There was a small group of us who were friends when we were younger, but Kyrie had the most influence among us.”

“Was Michael one of you?”

“Yes,” he affirmed,” there were six of us, but Michael was a little different. Michael and Kyrie were friends since they were very young. The rest of us met and became friends as young adults.”

“How did you all meet?”

“In school,” he answered. “We all attended university together--well, except for Michael.”

So they had met at school.

“Not Michael?”

“No. Like I said, he and Kyrie went way back. Five of us were in school together, but Michael chose a different path for himself. He joined the military.”

The Knight Protector. Eternal Soldier. Undefeated.

“Is that why he’s so martial?” I asked.

Rafe sighed. “Maybe. When this was all just a game, we chose to be all kinds of things, but after a while we seemed to gradually settle into roles. Few if any of us change ourselves anymore. It’s a personality thing, I think. We’ve all drifted into what suits us the most. Or maybe it has to do with getting old and losing the desire for change. I don’t know.”

He paused.

“Michael has always been a soldier, though, from the moment I met him. I’ve never met anyone so unyielding.”

I looked him up and down in his worn leathers.

“If Michael is a soldier, what are you?”

He grinned at me and lifted a hand up and flicked his fingers. I saw a coin and then a key and then a knife all appear and disappear in a heartbeat. His fingers blurred, and the knife reappeared and danced around his hand, rolling over his knuckles and flipping around his palm and wrist, and then his hand was empty again. I looked up to speak to him, and he was gone.

Behind me, he said, “Let’s just say I’m not the kind who likes to fight out in the open if I can help it. I’m more of a finesse kind of guy.”

I spun around just in time to see the faintest wisps of smoky darkness disappear from around his form.

I said, “So you fight, but not like Michael.”

“Michael isn’t much for subtlety. He comes at you head on, and if you’re stupid enough to try to stop him, he’ll break you.”

I thought back to their exchange in the hallway.

“Me? I prefer coming from the side or the back, when you least expect it. I’m not really interested in fair fights. I just want to win.”

“Did all six of you come here? And why did you think Kyrie was dead? Isn’t that impossible for you...Players?”

Rafe leaned back against a tree.

“We haven’t seen Kyrie in a very long time,” he said quietly.

“Three thousand years?”

He gave a small nod.

“We’ve seen no sign of him anywhere, and believe me we searched.

I asked, “Why did he disappear? Did something happen?”

Rafe answered, “There was a war.”

“What kind of--”

Rafe held up his hand and whirled around. He cocked his head as if listening, and his lips tightened.

“One of my wards has been breached,” he murmured. “Wait here while I check it out.”

I shook my head.

“I’m coming, too.”

He crooked an eyebrow at me and then shrugged.

“All right, but try to be quiet. Do you have Stealth?”

I nodded, though I didn’t tell him what a low level it was.

I hurriedly grabbed Veritas from next to my bedroll where I had left her and followed Rafe. He strode off swiftly. Gripping my sword and scabbard in my left hand, I hurried to keep up.

The lean, swarthy man seemed to dim in front of me, and it was all I could do not to lose sight of him. If I hadn’t been following directly at his heels, I’m sure I would have lost track of him. What was his Stealth? Or maybe it was something else?

“I talked to Rafe. He told me about how you all came to be here. Players.”

So now you know.

“Yes. I’m what’s known as a Non-Player Character? Is that right?”

I believe so. However, your ability to connect with the system confuses me. It shouldn’t be possible because…

“Because I’m not real?”

My mental tone was bitter.

You seem very real to me, Paol.

Rafe slowed down, and it became easier to keep track of him. We must have been nearing his ward.

“Don’t patronize me, Veritas.”

I wasn’t patronizing. Nothing about you strikes me as being an NPC. I don’t understand it. Unless you’re a Player who has been disguised.

“Is that possible?”

As you said to me before, magic is powerful. Perhaps you are one of us with an impenetrable disguise. It would answer some questions.

“If I am one of the Two Hundred, I don’t remember any of it.”

A raised fist stopped me in my tracks, and my hidden conversation with Veritas ceased. Rafe sniffed the air once, twice, and then the shadows fell away so that I could see him clearly once more.

Two soldiers wearing the blue and silver of Paravel stepped out of the trees.

“Are you the one known as Rafe?” asked one of them, a huge hulking fellow in breastplate with a two-handed sword slung on his back.

“Yup, that’s me,” Rafe answered cheerily.

“Sir, the Lord Protector asks that you and your party come with us.”

“Oh? Is he nearby?”

“He himself is not close, but we do have troops near enough to give you some protection. He received your message and sent us to aid you.”

Message?

Rafe noticed my confused look and answered my unspoken question.

“Clara.”

Right. She knew that communication spell.

“Well, let’s get everybody up, eh? It’s near enough to dawn. Rise and shine. Mmm...wish I had a bugle. That would be fun.”