“You would ask my people to die.”

  “No! I ask them to fight to survive!”

  “My answer remains the same: We will not fight for your petty squabbles.”

  “Again you refuse to listen! By standing by, you doom us all, yourself and yours included, to damnation!”

  “I hope, for both our sakes, that you are wrong. You have exhausted my patience. Leave our lands.”

  —Conversation between Rellar Azureth and Anathi. Date unknown.

  The Archival of Araedi. Day 04.

  Saiph stood in the Archival's grand entrance hall. The building had been purchased by his friend and fellow guildmate, Sinnamon Roll, using funds provided by Jack O’Lantern and Orbnus, another pair of friends who had amassed significant wealth as clothing artists for Annwyn Online. The game turned reality Saiph, his friends, and millions of gamers around the United States, and likely the world, now found themselves in. Complete with the powers and levels they'd gained in the decade Annwyn Online had been around.

  Three days of fighting monsters, both man and mystical, and the destruction and death that came with that fighting had instilled within Saiph the confidence that whatever had happened to him and everyone else, Annwyn Online had never been just a game.

  An imposing dragon, wings outstretched and mouth open in a silent roar, dominated the room. Most of its skeleton held the brownish grey of fossilized bone, but the dragon’s teeth, horns, and claws were black crystals reminiscent of his own dragon form's icy- blue crystals in the same places.

  How had such a great beast wound up here?

  Dragons were powerful mages, rivaling even the power he, a level 100 Dragon Sentinel-Pirate could call upon and he was very nearly a god.

  Guess being a god wasn't enough to save you. Hopefully it’ll be enough to get us home…

  A collection of guilds, many whom Saiph knew from his decade of game time, were in the process of putting together a sort of government with exactly that goal in mind.

  A few of the pieces of the puzzle for how they wound up here had been laid out before them. Raine von Alder, a summoned heroic spirit belonging to his friend, Nix, had a necklace with the logo of Annwyn Online’s Developer, Sonnet Entertainment, as the pendant. She had said it was a reference to a religious order, the Revi, who had existed some five hundred years earlier. A cursory probing of some of the NPCs at the guildhalls in Araedi and Orleana had revealed little information as to what had become of them. Actually, no one had even known about that religion.

  The building Saiph was standing held some books that held the Revi/Annwyn Online symbol, though most of those were indecipherable. Whatever universal translator allowed players and NPCs to speak to each other didn’t extend to Revi texts, which were written in another language according to Malikela, an NPC with a passion for history who was helping Sinnamon catalogue the massive trove of knowledge the Archive held.

  There was another, far more personal mystery that Saiph was grappling with. His girlfriend’s character, Aria Aurora, shown online in her guild castle, Pallas’ Watch. The mystery stemmed from the fact that had died in a car accident nearly two years ago. He knew whoever was using her account likely wasn’t actually Riley, but rather someone who had stolen her account information and had been using it when everyone had been brought here. But it bothered Saiph that whoever was using her account wasn’t responding to his messages. Part of him hoped it was a bot like the pair he, Nix, and Lueur Rose had found in a dungeon they’d cleared on their second night here. At least then it would feel less like a desecration.

  Voices from the library broke Saiph from his thoughts and the dragon before him. It was early in the morning, especially considering the events of the previous day. A mob of angry players had set fire to a large swath of the wildlands beyond Araedi in the hopes that they’d draw out Sonnet Entertainment’s moderation or developer team and force the issue of going home. The plan hadn’t worked.

  In the library, Sinnamon Roll was sitting with Malikela, Saiph presumed; a tall stack of books between them.

  “Sinn, how long have you two been in here?”

  Sinnamon looked up and, apparently out of habit, pushed up a pair of glasses she wasn’t actually wearing. Ashley Miller wore glasses, but not Sinnamon Roll. “A couple of hours. Couldn’t sleep. You either, I take it?”

  Saiph shook his head. “Apparently only a little bit more than you got. I’m heading to Orleana. Might try and catch a few Z’s there. What are you two working on?”

  “Trying to get a jump on that lead you gave me last night. We’re up to… four, yeah, four books with Sonnet’s logo. Still don’t know what any of the words say, but it’s something.” Sinnamon paused. “Whoever built this place had to have started translating or made a catalogue or something. We just haven’t found it yet. Weaver’s looking around the basement and any other corner he can find hunting for it.”

  “If you do find it, let me know what you find on that dragon in the hallway. I wanna know what could have killed her.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “‘Her’?”

  “Yeah, the direction of the curve of her horns gives it away. Males curve upward, females downward.” A fact Saiph had no doubt acquired from his own soul merging with that of another dragon. An eventful first three days indeed.

  Saiph left the pair and returned to the lobby, gave the skeletal dragon a nod, and opened up a portal to Orleana’s guildhall with his Caer Fragment. Warm, salty air welcomed him as he stepped through the hole in reality.

  ***

  The Pride of Orleana, flagship of the Brotherhood of Pirates, sat in her berth with large maroon sails furled, rocking gently against her dock. She was an old ship at nearly a hundred years old in Terre Time, only a few years younger than the Brotherhood itself, but she hid that age well thanks to magic and a crew, both Player and NPC, who cared for her deeply.

  Even as Saiph scaled the multi-level dock to reach the ship’s gangway, he could see carpenters at work replacing rotted and worn sections of the Pride’s hull.

  Still a founding member, if not an active participant since spinning off and forming North Remembers eight years ago earth time, Saiph was well known to the Brotherhood, particularly those lucky enough to call the Pride their home base.

  The Brotherhood’s leader, and Saiph’s longest friend, Will-I-Am, stood on the upper deck, looking out into the harbor beyond. As one of the Cait Sidhe, or cat folk, Will was a prime example of Terre’s oddities and stark differences from Earth. Orange and white fur covered his thin, muscular frame and a cat’s face, complete with large green eyes, turned to meet Saiph as he approached.

  “You’re early, Saiph. I thought we weren’t meeting until noon.”

  “I wanted to get the founding crew together for breakfast. Just you, me, Quark, and Kamila.”

  Will stroked the whiskers on the left side of his face with his paw. “I could eat.”

  ***

  Will knocked on the door to Quark and Kamila’s quarters. “Quark, it’s Will and Isaac.”

  A message popped up in front of Saiph’s face.

  Come in, but be quiet. Madeleine’s still sleeping.

  The windowless room was dark, save only for a single candle on Quark’s desk. On that desk sat a book on a stand while Quark, in owl form, sat upon the head of his chair. His twin owl familiars, Strange and Charm, were perched on either side of his book. As a member of the Druid class, Quark could take on the appearance of his familiars and his feathers were a mottled brown with a tuxedo belly.

  Beside the Druid, a small bat hung upside down, wings wrapped around itself, tiny body expanding and contracting in the rhythm of sleep. Kamila; Quark’s wife, vampire, and Rogue.

  Quark lifted silently off his chair and changed back into his Serethi self. He gestured for Saiph and Will to follow him into the hallway.

  “What’s up?” Quark asked as he closed the door.

  “Breakfast!” Saiph and Will said in unison.

  Quark shook his head. “Don’t wait for us. We’ll meet you at the guildhall.”

  “No worries. What’re you reading?” Saiph asked.

  “A book on the history of the Red Fleet, the pirate group Raine von Alder belonged to. When you consider their origins and that of the Age of Piracy in general, things have almost come full circle,” Quark mused.

  “What do you mean?” Saiph asked.

  “Yeah, elaborate…” Will said.

  “Many of the original pirate crews were monster hunters before turning to piracy. The red sails were intended to distinguish them from their escorts. What are we if not the monster hunters now?” Quark answered.

  Saiph glanced deckward unconsciously as though he could see the Pride’s sails. Nearly every monster hunting ship under the Brotherhood wore maroon sails.

  “I propose an expedition to the other continents after we slay Avanyu. We’ve had no word from any of the other servers, or rather, continents. We’re assuming they’re all here just like we are. What if they are and part of the path home involves something they might know? I think we need to be far more coordinated than just what’s going on here,” Quark said.

  “I agree, but Avanyu isn’t the only monster out there. How do we cross the ocean without risking the whole ship and crew? There’s a reason no one sails beyond the shallows. It’s too dangerous.” Will replied.

  “‘Too dangerous for Clarke’, you mean? It’s rather obvious to everyone around here that there’s something between you two since your date.” Quark fixed Will with a knowing glance and Saiph fought to suppress a laugh.

  “It wasn’t a date! Our relationship is only business. If I’m to captain this ship, I should know who the quartermaster—” Will shook his head, obviously dropping Quark’s bait. “No, if something happens and the Pride is lost, the NPCs go down with her. We won’t. We’ll respawn or can just fast travel away. I don’t want that kind of blood on my hands.”

  Saiph stroked his beard. “Why can’t they use our fast travel portals? We could get them out as easily as we can ourselves. It pretty much trivializes things like that.”

  “Can NPCs even use our fast travel?” Will asked.

  Saiph shrugged. There wasn’t any record of NPCs having their own fast travel system. “Worth finding out.”

  “Maybe, but I wouldn’t mind looking at some of Clarke’s uncle’s airship designs. It’d be a whole lot easier to avoid the sea monster issue entirely if we could just fly over them.”

  Abigail Clarke’s, or simply Clarke as she preferred, voice behind Will made the three men jump. “That was my uncle’s idea when we built the airship that brought us from the Triskelion. Avanyu sank it, remember?”

  “How long have you been standing there?” Will asked.

  “Long enough to volunteer if you’re looking for a non-Guardian to try out your portals. You’re going to Ven Istera, that’s where my uncle settled down.” Clarke paused. There was a sudden, unmistakable look of fire in her eyes as she spoke again. “And we might not be reborn like you when we die, but that doesn’t make us helpless. We live our whole lives knowing what we risk when we board this ship. If the crew of the Pride wish to join in slaying Avanyu, don’t insult us by denying us the choice.”

  Saiph shifted uncomfortably under Clarke’s burning gaze as it passed over him.

  Will raised his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry, Clarke. We weren’t trying to offend anyone. If the crew of the Pride or any of the other ships we take with us wish to come, I promise I won’t stop them.”

  “Good.” Clarke nodded. “Besides, we know this ship better than anyone you’d get to run her and you’re out of your mind if you think I’d let anyone else helm her.”