Empyrean 16: A Desperate Appeal (Patreon)

Amelia, here! A new chapter of Empyrean's Flight is here to read :)

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After pocketing the half-orc’s items and the adrenaline had worn off, I realized my arm was still hanging limp. I turned to Soren. “Do you mind helping me here?” I asked.

My brother got up and stood behind me. “Is it dislocated?”

“I think so,” I said.

He put his hand on my back and pulled my shoulder toward him. With an excruciating pop, I felt the bone move back to where it should be. I yelped, but when my brother let go, I could feel my arm regain its strength.

I looked around at my companions. We had all been hurt, and we only had one small potion to use. “So, who gets this?” I asked, shaking the minor healing potion in the air.

“Alon should,” Soren said.

“I’m fine,” the axeman protested.

“You could have a concussion,” my brother argued.

“Soren’s right. Our injuries are manageable, but we can’t have you dropping dead out of nowhere,” I agreed. When Alon looked up at me, I tossed him the potion.

The axeman nodded and took a sip. “Thank you,” he said with a smile.

Adalinda came to my side. “I cleaned up the body,” she said. “We shouldn’t run into any trouble now.”

“Thank you, Ada. Best you unmanifest now before we reach the base.”

The celestial bobbed her head and turned to mist. As we gathered ourselves to finish our journey to the Raccoon’s base, I fiddled with the gold I found on the half-orc. I had never held this much money before, and I had no idea what to do with it. I could try and buy health potions, or maybe there would be a different use I didn’t know about yet.

Either way, it was pleasant to not feel so destitute.

We reached the Raccoon’s base without running into any more difficulties.  Mostly, I thought, because it was only five minutes from the encounter with the half-orc. Whatever the case, I was thankful that more trouble didn’t find us.

As we came up to the base, I studied the building. It hadn’t changed much since I last saw it. Like many of the other buildings in the poor quarter, it was an unfinished concrete building—abandoned by the city council when funds ran out.

The structure was squat, its windows were barred, and it was as rundown as any other building in the poor quarter. It wasn’t attractive by any means—or what you would expect of the base of a major gang in the poor quarter— but I suppose that was by design.

As we reached the main entrance of the building, I noticed that the wooden door was covered by another steel gate. A small black drawing of a raccoon wearing a red bandana was on the left wall alongside the steps that led up to the door.

Unusually, though, there was a man waiting at the door. He was stout and balding with wisps of brown hair. He was armed with a club at his waist. A guard, I thought. Or an escort.

As we got closer, he called out to us. “Come, quickly! You are late.”

We quickened our steps and brushed past the guard into the building. Closing the door behind us, he took his place in front to lead.  The entryway opened into a small, dark corridor with doors on the left and right. There was an uncanny silence, and the air in the building was unnaturally cold—I expected that the base of a gang would be more filled with life.

The guard ushered us to the last door on the right. When he opened it, warm light washed outwards. The room was lined with bookshelves that filled with manuscripts, almanacks, and various items that looked important or sentimental. Why would a gang leader have so many books?

“Maybe he appreciates the finer things in life,” Adalinda said, listening in on my thoughts.

“Could be,” I said. “Still, it’s unusual.” So far, most things about the lair felt out of place.

At the back of the chamber were three desks. No one was sitting behind the left one, but a man was towering over the middle desk. He had a full head of well-kept black hair and was wearing a maroon robe that cascaded down to his feet. On his left was a woman with long, silver hair. There were two intimidating guards standing at their backs.

That must be Racoon leader, I thought.

“Eoman, your guests have arrived,” the guard said.

“Thank you, Vigil,” the leader replied. He gestured us forward. “Come in, please.”

We entered the room and the door slammed behind us. Startled, I turned around with my dagger at the ready. Have we walked into a trap?

“Apologies,” a crisp, calm voice said from behind.

Turning around, I saw it was Eoman’s companion.

“Vigil can be a little… abrupt at times,” she explained. “I hope he didn’t startle you?”

“Not at all,” I lied.

An amused smile toyed at one corner of the woman’s lips as if she didn’t believe me. Ignoring the exchange, Soren and Alon strode up to Eoman’s desk, and I followed. When we reached the desks, Eoman wasted no time in getting to the point. “So, I hear you need our help?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Soren said. “I was the one who sent the message.”

The Raccoon leader smiled. “Please, call me Eoman.” He stood up from behind his desk and walked up to me, grabbing my hand and bowing his head slightly. “I understand you are the player?”

“That’s me,” I responded, pulling my hand back from his.

He gave little notice to my reaction and moved toward each of my companions, taking his time to inspect them. When he got to Alon, he lifted my friend’s head with his finger and turned it slightly to the left. “You all look like you’ve taken a beating,” he noted. “Did you run into trouble on your way here?”

We nodded in unison. “An assassin was sent after me,” I said. “We are not sure who sent him, but it was a tough fight.”

Eoman pinched his chin between two fingers. “You are in need of protection, then. Is that why you have come here?”

“Not exactly,” my brother said. “We want to escape the city and need your help.”

Eoman paced slowly in front of us for a while, his hands behind his back, not saying anything. I took some time to study him more closely. He had a scar along the left side of his face, as if someone had cut him. The way the leader moved was graceful, and he gave off a comforting aura. I felt almost compelled to trust him.

“I cannot offer my help without something in return,” the leader finally said. “I know a way out of the city, but you have made this request at an inopportune time.”

I felt my heart pounding in my chest—I was more nervous than I realized—and this was not what we expected. “What do you need from us?” I asked.

“I am planning to launch an assault on the Devils’ base. As far as I understand, they have players in their arsenal now. Having one on our side would make this gamble a bit more predictable.”

“Why do you want to do that?” Alon asked, excitement trailing in his tone.

“The Devils have had the run of the poor quarter for long enough,” Eoman said plainly. “Either we sit and wait for Cantos to kill us, or we take action.”

The leader took a breath before continuing. “I believe that the Devils will fall apart with Cantos dead. As such, he needs to be… taken care of.”

“This is very privileged information you’re sharing with us,” I questioned.

“True, it is. But something about being the victims of an attempted assassination yourselves tells me you are not safe in the poor quarter.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “Which indicates that the Devils are possibly the ones after you.”

I turned my lips down in surprise and didn’t respond. Usually, I felt justified in questioning people’s actions. Usually, people acted on impulse. Eoman was different. He was acutely aware of the information he gathered, and he knew how to use it. At this point, I was surprised that the Devils had a better standing than the Raccoons.

“Now, I am not a fan of violence, but I have come to understand that it is the only way to communicate with the Devils,” he continued. “And, as you can imagine, trying to launch an attempt like this with our weaker numbers is not an easy task.”

“Which is why our help is welcome,” Soren assumed.

“Correct,” the leader replied. “If you stay and help me, I can offer my protection until Cantos is dead, and I will happily lead you out of the city afterward.”

It was a big ask. Taking on the Devils had already led us into some trouble, and I was hesitant to make any decisions right now. Eoman, as we expected, was usually quite charitable and didn’t ask for much in return. This was not one of those cases.

“So, are you ready to accept my offer?”

✵ ✵ ✵

An eerie silence presided over the room. Personally, I thought the idea was risky. But it spoke to the kind of path I wanted to take. If the Devils were removed from the poor quarter, it would be better for everyone who called it home, and I may get the answers I was looking for about the players.

“Do you need some time to discuss it?” Eoman asked suddenly.

“I think that would be ideal,” I said.

“Very well,” the leader said. “You may take a few minutes, but please, come to a decision quickly.”

I nodded, turning my head around to scan the room. Toward the front were a few dilapidated wooden chairs. I walked back and set three out in a corner near the door, calling my companions to sit with me.

Alon and Soren moved quickly. As they sat down, I asked, “So, what do you two think we should do?”

“I don’t know,” Soren said, chewing on his nails. “This isn’t what I expected.”

“But if we take him up oin his offer, it satisfies all of us,” I pointed out. “The Devils fall apart, I could get some answers, and we can escape.”

“I agree, and we could take it further,” Alon added. “We could even take over rest of the city…”

Soren quickly interrupted the axeman’s trailing thought. “I don’t think we need to take it quite that far, Alon.”

“Well, whatever the case, Elana should be using one of those Class stones we found,” Alon said, turning his gaze to me. “You getting stronger will only help us in the long run.”

“No, she can’t do that,” Soren protested. “It’s too dangerous.”

“How is it dangerous?” the axeman asked.

“We don’t know what the Class stones are, and besides, none of us know enough about the Game to know if that is the right decision,” my brother explained.

“The only way we will know more about the stones is if we use them,” Alon started. “Why doesn’t she—”

“Enough,” I interrupted. “Stop talking about me as if I’m not here.”

Alon’s mouth snapped closed, and both my companions looked at me. “I will be the one to make decisions about my path in the Game,” I said. “I need you both to cease trying to control that.”

Soren held my hand. “We just want to make sure—"

I pulled my hand away from his. “No.”

“At least hear me out, sis” he implored.

“I don’t want to be treated like a weapon,” I said. “Or a pawn to push around. I know that this is all new, and a little frightening, but it is still my life. You cannot make my decisions for me anymore, Soren.”

My brother’s face grew solemn, and I felt a little guilty. I understood where he was coming from. For years now, he was the one always protecting me. But there had to be a point where he let me grow up, and part of that meant allowing me to choose my own player journey.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Soren said. His lips curled into a small smile, his eyes softening. “So, what do you think we should do?”

“Well, Eoman hasn’t given us much of a choice here,” I sighed.

“It’s risky, but I think we can manage it,” Alon said. He had a massive grin on his face. “And I still think we can manage to take over the city.”

“One thing at a time, my friend,” I said with an incredulous giggle. “Give me a moment.”

I took a breath and thought about our options. Banding with the Raccoons did offer us a certain amount of protection, but we would have to somehow assassinate their leader to gain that protection. On the other hand, trying to escape alone seemed just as dangerous.

“Ada, what do you think?” I asked my celestial.

“I think you should break free from all of this and go to the dungeon,” she said. “Don’t bother about Class stones, or anything else, just go through the dungeon and get out. We should make escaping our priority.”

“For the record, I still think you should use a Class stone,” Alon said, as if he could hear what Adalinda just said. “You will become infinitely more powerful.”

I wasn’t opposed to the idea. As far as I understood, I would have to use a Class stone again at some point. But now wasn’t the time. As a player, I felt underprepared, especially because I had no real way to heal up properly. I wasn’t about to get into a fight with my health in the state it was now.

“So? What are we doing?” Alon asked.

“I have an idea,” I said. “But neither of you are going to like it.”

“What is it?” Soren asked tentatively.

“I think I need to go see Odenna,” I said. “I am not healthy, and I need some access to healing before we can attempt this. I don’t feel prepared enough.”

“Surely there is someone better who can assist,” my brother argued. “You shouldn’t have to seek help from that witch.”

“And what about the Raccoons? What do we say to Eoman?” Alon chipped in.

“I think our best choice is to take their offer and help them kill Cantos,” I said. “But if I am going to be of any real use, especially when we are able to leave the city, I need to know more about the Game. Especially in terms of healing—both myself and you two.”

Soren and Alon went quiet. My brother had never been fond of Odenna, and I had never been sure why. She used to be close with our parents, but after their death, we grew distant. I didn’t have any particular feelings toward her, but Soren always grew angry at the mention of her name.

I thought it would be a good idea to seek her out now. Odenna had always been curious about the lives of players, and she took advantage of her shop’s proximity to the safe zone in the city. With many players coming in and out, she always knew how to turn coin from them at a cheaper rate than the shopkeepers in the zone. She would know where I could find health potions—and any other useful items. At this stage, it was non-negotiable for me to have access to these things if I wanted to be stronger.

“Okay, if you think that’s the right choice for you,” my brother said. “When will you leave?”

“As soon as possible,” I said. “So, are we all fine with this plan? I will take a day to meet with Odenna, and when I return, we can make a plan with the Raccoons.”

My companions bobbed their heads. I let out a quick breath, and then stood up from my chair. I walked toward the leader, who was writing furiously, and stopped a couple of feet away from the desks. “Eoman, we have come to a decision.”

The leader lifted his head from his work. “Yes?”

I explained everything to him. That we would help the Raccoons, but that I needed some time to seek out a woman I needed help from. As I talked, the leader looked at me thoughtfully. When I finished, he set down his pen and folded his hands under his chin.

“No.”