Aighe, the Taker of Life. Level ??

  “Run!” Peter yells. He has to pull me, as I stand unmoving while the monster leans down to eat me. He holds my hand, leading me away until I regain the wherewithal to run on my own. We run, and run, and run, as the thing chases us, seemingly for miles, shaking the ground with every step. Somehow we end up climbing the stairs of the coliseum, racing around the stands and into the viewing box, the dinosaur tailing us the whole way there.

  “The lever!” Peter shouts, lagging behind me. I sprint with everything I’ve got, reaching the abandoned throne, and throwing the lever with no time to spare, as the spinosaurus falls through the same trap door the King Emperor used to send us down into the labyrinth. It screeches, the sound echoing up the shaft. It collides with the floor, a deafening boom reaching us all the way at the top.

  “Do you think that killed it?” I ask Peter, panting on the throne. He peers over the open shaft, watching for movement.

  “I can’t see it.” he tells me. A loud roar, furious at us, denies my wish.

  “Damn.” I say, sitting down on the throne properly.

  You’ve unlocked the special class: Ruler!

  “Uh…” I say, rereading the notification. “Pete?”

  “Yeah?” he says, not taking his eyes off of the pit.

  “I just unlocked the Ruler class.” I say, shrugging at him when he finally looks at me.

  “That one’s not unique.” he says, pausing to think. “The Paragon’s a real prick, but I don't think you can dethrone him.”

  “Is the class any good?” I ask, not committed to switching, just curious.

  “Eh.” Peter says, gesturing so-so with his hand.

  “Well anyways, do you think we could kill it from here?” I wonder aloud.

  “It’s a level question mark question mark. Even if that fall brought it down to one percent health, we wouldn’t be able to finish it off.” He tells me, hands on his hips.

  “That’s such a bullshit rule” I tell him.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” he walks over to the throne and closes the trap door himself. “Let's get back to grinding.”

  Hours later, the Raptor I’ve electrocuted until it’s cooked well-done falls to the ground.

  You’ve reached level 50!

  Strength increased by 64%!

  Agility increased by 64%!

  Intelligence increased by 64%!

  “Woo!” I cheer at the notification.

  “Sweet, dude!” Peter gives me a crisp high-five. “Hey I’ve got to break for dinner. I haven't eaten since this morning.” I look at the world clock, just noticing the late hour.

  “You didn’t eat lunch?” I ask paternally.

  “No, mom made me eat breakfast late when I woke up. I guess it was kind of a brunch. Hey, you don’t get to give me grief, you didn’t stop for lunch either!”

  “Alright, fair enough.” I say, smiling.

  “Or any other meal, now that I think of it.” he stops in place, staring ahead. “Or for the bathroom. Or anything at all, really.” He looks at me, a deadly serious look on his face. I don’t respond, only returning his gaze without emotion. “Well, I’ll see you in about an hour.” He says, not breaking eye contact until he vanishes, logged out. I swear, wishing I hadn't spilled the beans. Even if those beans are in a can of lies, spilling onto a table of half truths… this metaphor is getting out of hand.

  I loot the last pack of raptors we killed.

  You loot Raptor Egg.

  That’s new. We must have killed hundreds of the dinosaurs, none had dropped eggs.

  Raptor Egg - Rare - Use: Add Baby Raptor to your Pet Collection

  My heart skips a beat. A pet? No, it couldn’t be, really? I mount up, immediately speeding off in the direction of Masstaoir, my mind racing. What could it be worth? Is it as much as the baby goblin? Enough to end this nightmare mission to live past the end of the month? It takes an embarrassing amount of time for me to realize I could use my Hertston, and do. Appearing before Burt, I give him a broad smile, and sprint off to the auction house.

  One hundred thousand. Only one fifth the way there, but that’s one fifth I haven't managed to accrue thus far. There’s a lot of other listings, so it must not sell all that well. Maybe if I undercut by a few gold… It pains me to think about it, but I will have to give a pretty enticing deal for anyone to jump at the opportunity to buy the egg at a discount. I hem and haw internally, landing at a two thousand gold discount. It’s only two percent, I tell myself, painfully aware that two thousand gold is more than I’ve ever had by a factor of twenty. Here we go, hopefully it sells before I change my mind.

  Raptor Egg has sold.

  That was fast. I check my mailbox for the profits

  You Receive 88,200 gold.

  WHAT!?

  I check the text of the letter, it says they took ten percent tax on sale. Who? The Orc I.R.S.? Does the Honorlord have my money? What’s he need it for? I almost march over to his house to give him a piece of my mind, but decide to just let it go. I could go back down south and get five more eggs, but that might take forever. Peter will need to kill six levels worth of raptors anyways, maybe we’ll get another. I ought to be faster for him now that I have two extra spells.

  After maxing out Thunder God, I unlocked the passive effect defibrillate, giving electric damage I deal to enemies the chance to revive dead allies during combat. Peter said it’s the most broken in-combat resurrection he’s ever heard of, so it must be good. He’s heard of everything. With that unlocked I invested one more point into Saw Blade, two points into Wall of Swords, after I figured out how useful it is. The spell produces, as the name suggests, a literal wall of crossed swords, impeding enemy movement and dealing scary amounts of pierce damage to those who attempt to pass. With two points invested, the amount of swords in the wall doubled from one layer of blades to two. One last point goes into Split Sword. It’s not as exciting, turning my lightning bolt into an electrical swarm of stinging bees.

  “I’m back” announces Peter, I guess he wasn't gone long enough for our group to automatically disband and kick us out of voice chat.

  “How was dinner?” I ask, hopping on my mount to make the almost hour-long trip back down to the prehistoric jungle.

  “Fine.” He says. something’s off. I almost ask him what, realizing on my own first. He talked to his mom. Even after he said he wouldn’t; and now, we can’t talk about him talking about it, because if the Monitor finds out, he’ll make my life a living hell.

  “That’s good.” I say, feeling as though I need to hide my feelings. We know the Monitor is always watching, how many context clues does the machine need to realize what happened?

  “Why are you in Masstaoir?” Peter asks, changing the subject.

  “I looted a Raptor Egg and sold it!” I tell him

  “Sweet! How much did you get?”

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  “Eighty eight thousand two hundred, even though I listed it for ninety eight.” I say, pouting.

  “Death and taxes, am I right?” Peter says, like he pays a mortgage or something. Kid’s got an old soul.

  “Yep. I’ll be with you as fast as I can ride there. Can you handle the raptors on your own?” I ask, checking the map. I wish I had G.P.S.

  “Not as many at a time, but yeah. I’ll keep grinding while you make your way.” He tells me

  “Should I pick up more eggs and potions while I’m near the city?” I ask, stopping.

  “I should have enough to get to fifty.” He declines.

  “Maybe I should grab enough to last until ninety?” I propose

  “They’re a thousand gold a pop.”

  “Nevermind.” I say, resuming movement. “You spent like seven thousand gold on me so far. Do you want half of the Raptor Egg profits?” I offer, a pang of greed trying to shut me up.

  “Nah man you keep it.” He says, his voice strained by combat.

  “Are you sure? We both killed the raptor I looted it from.” I offer again

  “Nope, it's all yours.”

  “Thanks” I say, tearing up for the second time today. Riding by myself gives me time to reflect on how kind and generous Peter has been to me. A total stranger shows up and one shots a tree, then suddenly we’re friends. I don’t know how long I would have lasted on my own, depending on the kindness of strangers, most whom have proven to be total assholes. “Hey, Peter”

  “Yeah?” he shouts, clearly still trading blows with dinosaurs.

  “How close are you and Millie?” I ask for the first time.

  “We hang out every so often, she forces me to live in the real world she says.” he tells me. He does spend a lot of time on this game.

  “So…” I try to think of the right words. “You two aren't?...”

  “No, I’m gay, remember?” I can feel him giving me a deadpan stare from miles away.

  “Yeah but that doesn’t mean you're not into girls. You could be just into more than just girls.” I state.

  “Sure, but I’m not.” he tells me. “And I’m not interested in older men.”

  “It didn’t even cross my mind.” I tell him, honestly.

  “I know a lot of guys in the community looking for a sugar daddy. Pretty much everyone my age agrees we’d do anything for enough money to live comfortably.” he informs me.

  “The economy is still in shambles?” I ask, not knowing what’s happened in the past seven years. When I died it was in the toilet, inside of a dumpster fire, riding a roller coaster straight down to hell. You’d be lucky to afford avocado toast on a week’s pay.

  “Oh yeah.” he says. “I’m very privileged to have a lawyer for a dad. Mom isn’t exactly raking it in, but the two of them put together make enough for us to live in california.”

  “Good for you guys” I say, watching the mountains pass my periphery. “Almost there”

  “Good, fighting these things by myself is a pain in the ass.” he remarks.

  “You’d know, right?” I say, joking. Peter laughs the hardest I’d ever heard him laugh.

  Peter has died.

  “You homophobic asshole, you distracted me!” Peter says, still laughing heartily.

  “Hey, you laughed.” I say, smiling to myself. “And I don’t think I have any internalized homophobia. It took a while with my upbringing, but I got there.”

  “Really?” Peter asks without asking.

  “Yeah, I ended up with a beautiful woman, sure, but Mike Coulter can get it.” I say, earning another belly laugh from Peter.

  “That’s the guy who plays Luke Cage. You know they made another season of that show recently?” he asks me

  “Oh really? Is it any good?” I ask

  “Oh yeah, it’s great. The plot revolves around the New Black Panthers trying to rebuild after the Return to Normalcy act passed. Kendrick Lamar did the theme music. The main villain was the Red Skull.” Peter informs me.

  “Isn’t the Red Skull dead in space or something?” I wonder, finally arriving at my destination, finding Peter resting between raptor fights.

  “Well it’s not exactly the Red Skull, it’s some neo-nazi that worked for D.O.G.E. pretending to be him.” He tells me, reviving next to me.

  I sigh, rolling my eyes.

  “It was funny hearing that name a bajillion times during the Second Nuremberg Trials.” Peter makes an odd face and waves his arms around like they’re out of his control. “I was just following orders!” He mocks. “The idiot didn’t even realize how ironic that defense was.”

  “I guess that’s what happens when you replace all of the history books with propaganda.” I remark. We get back into grinding, slaughtering raptors by the dozen. It doesn’t take long at all for Peter to reach fifty, I even get another level in the meantime. One more point into Wall of Swords. “What’s your class do, by the way? I see you disappear and stab things in the back, what else is there?”

  “That’s the long and short of it,” he says. “Go invisible, stab or stun my target. It’s an ambush focussed pure agility specialization rogue called Knife in the Dark.”

  “What made you pick it?” I ask, sorting through my raptor loot. No eggs, what a shame.

  “I wanted to try something less flashy than a wizard. It’s all fireball this, blizzard that with wizards. If I had epilepsy I'd seize every time I cast a spell.” He states. I chuckle at the idea.

  “Seems like a small toolkit, though.” I say regarding the Knife in the Dark Rogue.

  “Most classes stop at twelve spells maximum. Just enough to fill the action bar. I can use Twist the Knife to cause extra bleeding damage, or go invisible when you’re looking right at me. I’ll have a full bar by ninety. I don’t know How many you’ll have by then, but having eleven abilities plus four more if you count your temporary Thunder God spells by level fifty is pretty crazy.”

  “Huh.” I say, not having known. My spells don’t seem overly numerous to me, granted, It’s the only class I’ve ever played. “Back to Masstaoir?”

  “Yep” Peter says, firing up his Hertston. I do the same.

  “Why’s it called that, by the way?” I ask mid-cast “Masstaoir.”

  “Funny story actually, after the orcs were freed by the gods, they vowed vengeance, and began constructing a massive tower to reach into heaven so they could invade.” He chuckles, vanishing.

  Massive tower? That is kind of funny. Would that even work? I appear at the inn shortly after, nodding to my N.P.C. friends, and follow Peter towards the Honorlord’s keep. I split off when we reach the Halls of Honor, deciding to check in with the allstars while he picks up the quest.

  “Welcome back.” Pelgingose greets me as I walk in.

  “Thanks.” I look around. “You’re the only one here?”

  “Just Tim and I.” he says, gesturing to the dark corner Tim has been in presumably since before I left.

  “What’s his deal, anyways?” I ask, looking at the mysterious figure in the shadows.

  “He’s a very private person. He’d rather focus on his studies here than at the alchemist station downtown. Even though other Paragons and media folk barge in here regularly.” Pelgingose laughs a strange, hollow chuckle. “When they used to approach him he’d just play Disney music through his microphone until they left him alone or got copyright striked.”

  “That’s pretty smart.” I compliment.

  “Sure, he’s a smart guy, you just wouldn’t know it if he didn't talk to you first.”

  “Say, Archlich.” I think of something else to ask.

  “Call me Pel” He corrects me.

  “Pel, could I get your autograph? My wizard friend is a huge fan of yours.” I ask.

  “Sure thing.” Several pictures and a book appear in his hands. “Are they more of a fan,” he shakes the book, “Or a Fan?” He gestures a sultry picture of his nude skeleton body, lounging on a loveseat with a rose in his teeth. I laugh out loud.

  “I think he’s an academic fan.” I tell him, pointing to the book. “There’s really people who are into that?”

  “Oh yeah. I get Albedo cosplayers fawning over me all the time. It’s a whole thing.” He says, whipping out a feather pen and signing his name on the inside cover of the book. “Who's it to?”

  “Peter” I tell him.

  “To Peter” he says and writes simultaneously. “Friend of Paragons.” He smiles without lips, handing me the book.

  “Thanks Pel. Catch you, later, huh?” I say, assuming Peter is ready to roll outside.

  “Anytime.” he tells me, waving. The many gold bangles on his bony arm jangle violently. I step outside, finding Peter exactly where I expected him to be.

  “For you” I hand him the book. His jaw drops to the floor.

  “No way!” He says, holding the book with both hands.

  “What’s it called? I didn’t even look when he handed it to me.” I admit, nodding to the book.

  “Crossroads Wizardry” He tells me. “It’s like an autobiography and a guide to the wizard class in one. The Master of Spells wrote the foreword.”

  “Who’s that?” I ask

  “So all mortal spellcasters are limited to spells that can’t inherently change reality, or cause pandemics, or revive the long dead. Any magic that would inherently break the game if they were cast. The Master of Spells in the in-game explanation for the limit, he personally enforces it. He’s canonically the most powerful mortal wizard in the story. Some dragons and other magically competent monsters can outclass him, but players can’t.”

  “Interesting” I say. “That doesn’t bother players?”

  “Oh some think it’s bullshit. Pelgingose chief among them. He’s been petitioning to have the Master added as a killable boss for a long time.” Peter tells me.

  “Such rich lore” I comment. “Can’t wait to get more of my own”

  “You should have a few exclusive quests by now. Has nothing come up specifically related to your class?” he asks

  “I did one for these gloves” I present them to Peter, rotating my hands.

  “Low Strength?” he marvels. “That’s pretty damn strong at level 40.”

  “Should help get our story quest back on track.” I say.