Roxanna found herself looking upstream in a broad, shallow river. Sunlight splitting off the tumbling flow twined across her vision, its burbling dance revealing the presence of submerged rocks.

In one patch, deeper, it ran still and smooth like glass, allowing a rounded stones that were the riverbed. Under her feet, the smooth stones felt soft.

“Oooo, cooold. Soooo, cold.” She shivered, then bounded for the closer riverbank, on her left, loudly splashing through the waist-deep water. Her body cut through with an ease she’d only ever dreamed of in real life. In no time at all, she was on the shore and clutched herself about the chest with tight arms, turning toward the sun. It heated her cheeks and arms. There was a light breeze, but it was warm. “Ahhhhh, that’s nice.”

Roxanna let her arms drop and basked in the solar radiance, feeling reborn and unbound. She stood like that for minutes, just soaking in the heat and basking in the feeling of freedom. No job, no bills, no stress-induced headaches, or microwave dinners. This place, this opportunity Bendik had given her and Be–

“Ahh,” Roxy startled, as her mind skidded off her son’s name in the real world.

In-game names only, maybe?

The person she knew, that she loved and was proud for having raised, stood clear in her mind with a kind of expectant placeholder where his name had been.

A cold shadow flashed over the sun. She opened her eyes and shaded them with a hand. A humanoid figure with massive wings flew past, banking over the river and circling back toward her. She tensed, whispering, “Aasimar or Avvariel.”

The first were Kuora’s religious zealots, judgmental, obsessed with right and wrong, and with racial boosts to their attributes when in an argument. The Choose a Side trait they had was horrible in her opinion. They got more powerful and more violent when confronted by someone who was in the wrong–or at least what they considered wrong. It was definitely a race that could cause problems.

Opposingly to the Aasimar, the Avvariel were merely a reclusive race of elves. Not painted as the friendliest race in the description, but not predisposed to pick a fight. She hoped it was an Avvariel.

She glanced about looking for a weapon and found the riverbank had little in the way of any, just rocks and a few sticks, nothing that would do any more than just declare her mistrust. Quickly taking stock, Roxanna found she wore thick linen pants, a loose linen shirt, and surprisingly, the brown leather straps of a backpack wrapped her shoulders. Upon seeing them, she felt the weight of a small bag on her back.

The winged being had curved back around. Annoyingly, they were descending toward her with the sun directly behind. All Roxanna could make out was an angelic outline.

Its wings flared and flapped rapidly, slowing the being, then it touched down and stumbled forward, awkward footfalls grinding on riverbank stones.

“Shit, damn rocks.” It was a man’s voice, and it sounded familiar. Roxanna relaxed a little.

The figure got his balance, and his wings closed up on multiple joints. The action brought to mind an old, wooden, three-section folding-ruler closing. It was not how natural birds wings closed. The extra wing joint at the man’s knee level meant the wing tips pointed up instead of down. The sight was alien and disturbing; Roxy felt herself withdraw slightly.

Then the man shimmered like a mirage, and the wings vanished. He started toward her, calling out, “The damn game doesn’t like us to use our real names, but I’m assuming you’re the nurse. I’m Ramal.”

She took a breath in relief. “Roxanna. And yes, I’m the nurse. I should then assume that you’re the security fellow.”

“And you would be right,” he said, approaching with a smile.

“I’m glad you found me so quickly. Have you seen my son yet?”

“He’s upriver, headed this way now. I was up there.” Ramal pointed away from the river and up. “When I spotted you, I signaled him and flew down.”

Roxanna turned and looked. Beyond a band of trees, perhaps a half-mile away, rose a several hundred-foot-high cliff of rock that extended, continuous and unbroken, as far as the eye could see. Roxanna was stunned. How did I miss that?

Roxanna saw a broad ledge or step cut into the wall of stone about halfway up. “What is that?” She shaded her eyes from the sun, looking West. “It looks like it runs all the way down the cliff.”

Ramal nodded, looking up with a hand shading his eyes. “It looks like an old road from up there. Hasn’t been used for a long time, though. And yeah, it runs as far as I could see. It was also a perfect spot to watch and wait for you two.”

Roxanna looked down the length of the cliff. “That’s extraordinary.” She turned, her gaze tracing the cliff cut passage back in the other direction, following until it curved out of sight, miles distant. “How did they even build it?” She asked, words quiet.

“No telling for sure, but we are in a fantasy world, so I’d put my money on magic.” Ramal said from behind. She turned back, and he held out a hand. “Feels a bit like we’re meeting for the first time. It’s a damn fine pleasure to meet you, Roxanna.”

She looked up at him. The man towered like an ox on legs. His features were recognizable, but they were broader and more pronounced than in real life. His eyebrows were thick, his forehead broad and square, his chin wide and chiseled; everything about the man was imposing.

She shook his hand. “It is a damn fine pleasure to meet you, too, Ramal.” They shared a smile.

“You took your time in there with Ink.”

“Did I? Guess I lost track. How long have you been waiting?”

“I’ve been here for a couple hours,” Ramal said, turning as the sound of steps splashing through shallow water approached from behind. He moved aside and unblocked nearly half of Roxanna’s field of view.

God damn... The man is a wall, she thought.

“And here comes your son.” A lithe figure in the same white linens bounded toward them in the shallows of the river, water erupting in broad rings with each footfall. He looked joyous.

Splash, splash, splash, leap... splash, splash, splash, leap. The leaps were long, arcing jumps; he radiated childish glee. Roxanna couldn’t help but share in the feeling.

“He’s been like that since I found him,” Ramal’s broad smile sounded in his voice. “It’s infectious. I grin like a fool every time I look at him.”

“It is, isn’t it.”

The bounding man reached close to where they were and cut out of the water. In a half dozen steps, he collided with and engulfed Roxanna in a huge hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around as he laughed.

She started laughing too. “Okay, okay, honey. It’s amazing, I know.” After a few spins, she’d had enough. “Enough already. Put me down.”

He squeezed her once more and obliged, then steeped back, spread his arms, and looked at her with a huge grin, “Can you believe this?”

He turned to the river, looked to the sky, and the forest, then back at Roxanne. “It’s just fricking amazing, right?! I thought it would be similar to Novamen, but it’s sooo much more. It’s like the real world, but better!”

He pointed back to the river. “I can feel that the water–it actually likes it when I splash. Seriously, it likes to be splashed. It’s just… I mean–amazing, right?”

Ramal smiled and nodded. Roxanna tilted her head and grinned.

“And my body!” He jumped straight up five feet, landing deftly. “My attributes are basic, and I already feel like a superhero! I mean, I could do those things in Novamen, too, I guess. But here… here it’s like I’m really doing it!”

“It’s pretty amazing,” Roxanna said. She admittedly felt the same childish glee, just a bit more quietly. “I feel like we won the lottery. No, this is better. Screw the lottery.”

Her son was a couple inches taller than she was, with skin the color of honied oak, facial features a bit more angular than in real life, dark brown roguish hair straight to the nape of his neck, and emerald eyes that almost seemed to glow. With a change of clothes, he could look either regal or dark-alley dangerous. “So, mister tall, tan, and handsome. What’s your name?”

His boyish grin became a devilish smirk. “I came up with something new. Character creation was so... intense. So... soulful.” His tone wistful. “It was inspiring.” When he looked back at Roxanna, his eyes sparkled. “Dnoeth. Dnoeth Rnoegr.”

“Dnoeth.” She let the name roll around her tongue.

“It’s pretty cool, right? I feel like it fits me.”

She nodded. “I like it.”

“What about you?”

“Roxanna."

“Roxanna. Nice, I like it.” Dnoeth kicked his chin toward her. “Kind of old-school cool.”

The way he did it had the energy of a sibling or long-time friend with more confidence and easy friendliness. It was distinctly different than what she expected from her son, yet at the same time, the shift seemed appropriate.

Good Lord, that is interesting, she thought and looked at him curiously. “Hum. It seems like this game may redefine our relationship some.”

“Yeah. I feel different. That’s kind of crazy, too.” He considered. “Seems less structured or judgmental or something.” Then they both looked toward the sound of Ramal clearing his throat.

“Okay, you two,” Ramal said. “Enough catching up. We need to figure out a plan. How about we take stock and decide what to do? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet, Roxy–” He cut off and looked at her, then at Dnoeth. “That okay? I like nicknames; never call anyone by their real name. But I don’t want to offend.”

Roxanna smiled. “It’s fine; it’s actually one of the reasons I picked Roxanna.” Ramal looked at Dnoeth; he didn’t want to create an uncomfortable feeling with the young man.

Dnoeth smiled and shrugged, “Hey, if she says it’s good, it's good. I probably won’t use it, but I like it.”

“Okay, good,” Ramal said, relaxing. “As I was saying, there isn’t a lick of information here about where to go or what to do. Let’s take stock of capabilities and talk out a plan of how to proceed.” Roxanna lifted a finger and spun slowly to one side and then the other while her finger stayed in one spot. The other two eyed her.

“Oh, look at that,” Roxanna said with curious surprise. “I have a red dot that at the top of my field of view, and… what’s this little light?” She asserted her desire to understand the light. A system message popped up. “Oh, I have an unread system notification.”

New Quest (Mandatory Quest): Courier to the Gods – Inkarius the Wise has given you a mandatory quest. Carry his message of dire importance to Erramir DarkFyre with all haste. Inkarius has granted you the power of his third eye to accomplish this quest, which you can use to track Master DarkFyre.

The fate of two worlds may depend on your successful delivery of his message. Make all possible haste, and you will be richly rewarded. Fail, and the light of two worlds may be extinguished.

Roxanna frowned. “This is really strange. I got a quest from Inkarius the wise, who I presume is Ink, to carry a message to Erramir DarkFyre.” She read the quest message to Ramal and Dnoeth and looked at them in annoyance. “I don’t have any damn message.”

Ramal looked puzzled. Dnoeth regraded her in confusion, then asked, “What about your backpack?”

“Ohh. I forgot about it; the darn thing’s so light I don’t even know it’s there.” She slipped a strap off, pulled the pack under her arm, and undid the leather drawstring. Inside, she found a smooth white stone streaked with black, a small vial of dark liquid, and a bronze tube with glyph-marked steel endcaps. It was as wide as her thumb and just a bit longer than her hand. On the side of the tube, E. Darkfyre was engraved.

“Well, here’s the message,” Roxy held up the bronze tube. “And I’m guessing this red dot at the top of my vision is Ink’s third eye.”

“Good,” Ramal said. “That at least handles the question of where to go. We can talk abilities and skills while we walk if that’s okay with you two.”

They both nodded, then Dnoeth and Ramal turned to Roxanna. “Where to, Roxy?” Ramal asked.

Roxanna turned and pointed upstream at an angle toward the cliff wall. “That’s where it says to go.” She and Dnoeth looked up–the cliff was a couple hundred feet high. Then they both looked at Ramal.

He just shook his head at the unspoken question. “Can’t do it. It’s right in the skill description. At my skill level, I can only carry a hundred pounds, and there’s no way either one of you are that light.” Dnoeth and Roxanna turned their gaze back to look at the imposing wall of rock.

Ramal headed toward the cliff. “Come on, we’re not gonna figure it out standing here.”