Aetheria

Mira had spent the last twenty minutes making no meaningful progress.

The paper on her laptop was not difficult. That was part of the problem.

She had already read the revised methodology, checked the updated assumptions against the earlier model, and confirmed that the authors had corrected the error she mentioned in their previous draft. The final question highlighted for her attention concerned a boundary condition addressed three paragraphs later.

She knew the answer.

She also knew that she had reached the bottom of the same paragraph several times without beginning her response.

Mira pushed her round glasses higher and leaned back from the desk.

Her hair had fallen forward while she worked, long orange waves covering half the front of her green hoodie and spilling over the chair. She gathered it behind one shoulder and looked toward the digital clock beside her laptop.

9:43 p.m.

She had started shortly after dinner.

The manuscript remained open.

Mira clicked into the response box, typed three words, deleted them, and rested her chin against one hand.

There was nothing wrong with the work itself. She still enjoyed understanding difficult things. She liked the moment when a complicated problem finally became small enough to hold in her head, when dozens of relationships arranged themselves around a few important principles and everything unnecessary fell away.

That feeling simply came less often now.

Someone knocked lightly against her open door.

Her father stood outside holding a pair of glasses she had never seen before.

"Are you busy?"

Mira looked at the manuscript.

"I should be."

"That wasn't quite what I asked."

She gave him a tired look.

He smiled and entered.

The glasses in his hand were larger than her own but still sleek enough to look like something meant to be worn rather than laboratory equipment. Dark silver framed two broad transparent lenses that curved subtly around the eyes. The arms were slightly thicker near the temples, where tiny sensors and narrow patterned vents had been worked into the design.

Mira's attention settled on them almost immediately.

"Are those Daniel's?"

"His team's."

Her father placed them on the desk beside the laptop.

Mira picked them up carefully.

They were lighter than she expected.

She turned them over, examining the hinges, sensor placement and lens assembly.

"The full-sensory project?"

"That's the one."

Daniel had been one of her father's university friends long before Mira was born. His career had moved through several companies and research groups before eventually landing him with a team developing immersive virtual environments. Mira had heard about the project occasionally over the last year, mostly when her father brought home some odd story about Daniel arguing with investors or refusing to release hardware before he considered it ready.

She had once asked how the system handled conflicts between visual motion and the vestibular system.

Daniel had sent back four pages.

Mira had returned six.

She turned the glasses toward the light.

"Why are they here?"

"I asked if you could try them."

Mira looked up.

"For testing?"

"For playing."

She glanced at the glasses again.

"I've never played one."

"I know."

Her father pulled the spare chair closer and sat beside the desk.

"Daniel knows too. That's partly why he agreed."

Mira frowned. "Wouldn't someone experienced be a better tester?"

"Probably, if he wanted someone to tell him whether his game feels like other games."

"What does he want from me?"

"Nothing tonight."

That took a moment to settle.

Mira looked back at the manuscript.

Her father followed her attention.

"You've been staring at that screen since I came upstairs."

"I was working."

"You were trying to work."

Mira did not argue because the difference was obvious enough.

He rested his forearms on his knees.

"I thought you might enjoy something that doesn't need to become useful afterward."

She looked at him.

There had been a time when adults regularly said things like that around her.

Not in those exact words.

They had asked what she wanted to learn next, then offered increasingly advanced options when her answers came too easily. Mathematics led into programming. Programming led into engineering. Medicine began because she wanted to understand why a relative's medication worked and somehow became anatomy, physiology and pharmacology before most children her age had finished learning long division.

Every interest had grown into another opportunity.

Every opportunity had eventually acquired deadlines, reports, expectations or someone important who wanted to know what she could do with it.

Her father had been one of the few people who occasionally tried to pull her away from those things.

Mira touched the edge of the prototype glasses with her thumb.

"What kind of game?"

"Fantasy."

That description was broad enough to be almost useless.

Her father added, "Daniel said there are swords, magic, monsters, towns, dungeons, quests and classes."

Mira knew what all of those words meant individually.

She was less certain how they became an evening's activity.

"What's the objective?"

"You explore, apparently. Do quests if you want. Fight things. Find equipment. Make a character."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"And then?"

"You keep playing."

Mira considered that.

There was something oddly appealing about an activity that did not seem to have a final result she was supposed to produce.

Her father stood.

"Daniel left a basic guide on the startup screen. The prototype records what he needs automatically. If anything feels uncomfortable, take the glasses off."

Mira nodded.

He stopped at the door.

"Try to have fun."

"I don't know how useful that instruction is."

"Then ignore it."

He left her alone.

Mira looked at the manuscript one last time.

She saved her notes and closed the laptop.

The prototype glasses rested neatly beside it.

She removed her own glasses and put them on.

The frame adjusted around her temples with a soft mechanical movement. Her bedroom remained visible through the transparent lenses while several points of light appeared in sequence.

Mira followed them with her eyes.

A circle formed at the centre of her vision.

VISUAL CALIBRATION COMPLETE

Another prompt appeared.

VISION CORRECTION DETECTED

The room sharpened around her.

Mira blinked and smiled despite herself.

"That's nice."

The lenses darkened.

Her bedroom vanished.

A blue-white world turned beneath her.

Mira forgot about the chair.

Clouds curled across oceans beneath her feet while sunlight spread along the edge of the planet. Mountain ranges rose through the atmosphere in impossible detail, and thousands of distant golden lights marked settlements across the darkened half of the world.

Music gathered around her.

A name appeared across the stars.

AETHERIA

The view plunged downward.

Clouds rushed past.

A forest spread beneath her, followed by a wide green plain where mounted soldiers pursued a horned beast through tall grass. The scene flowed into a harbour crowded with ships, then a city built around a waterfall, then a cavern where adventurers fought something enormous among broken pillars.

Mira turned her head as the scenes changed.

The environments continued beyond where the presentation directed her attention.

A flock of birds crossed behind a tower.

Water ran from a gutter after a brief rainfall.

A merchant in the background of a market scene stopped to adjust the wheel of a handcart before continuing down an alley.

The game was simulating far more than the introduction required.

Mira leaned forward.

The guide began explaining Aetheria's kingdoms, settlements, wilderness regions and monsters. Players could explore alone or form parties, accept work from local communities, enter dangerous ruins and dungeons, gather materials, improve equipment and develop their chosen class.

Mira listened while watching a cat beneath a market stall.

It scratched behind one ear, stretched, and slipped between two baskets.

Its fur shifted individually around the shoulders.

She reached toward it.

Her fingers passed through the image with a faint distortion.

The guide continued into combat, levels and attributes.

Mira barely noticed the transition into character creation until the market dissolved around her.

A circular platform formed beneath her feet.

Someone stood several metres away.

Mira stared at herself.

The avatar had reproduced her face remarkably well. Her warm golden-brown eyes looked back through oversized round glasses, and her orange hair fell around her in thick waves almost to her knees.

A panel opened beside the model.

CHARACTER CREATION

Appearance

Race

Class

Mira selected Appearance.

The hair catalogue opened first.

She spent far longer there than she expected.

Some options were ridiculous. Others were elaborate enough that she rotated the avatar simply to see how the hair moved from behind. She found a style with slightly larger waves than her own and selected it, then increased the length.

A warning informed her that excessive hair length could interfere with equipment and environmental physics.

Mira added several more centimetres anyway.

The result was beautiful.

She adjusted the eye colour next, moving her natural brown slightly toward gold before deciding anything brighter made the avatar look strange.

The accessory section offered dozens of glasses.

Mira tried several.

A delicate gold pair looked elegant but unfamiliar.

She eventually returned to oversized round frames similar to her own.

She liked herself better with them.

Race selection was simpler.

Human was already selected.

Most of the alternatives were unavailable in the prototype build, represented by silhouettes and brief descriptions.

Mira left the setting alone.

The class menu opened.

Several figures appeared around the platform.

The first wore ceremonial white robes beneath layers of floating golden script.

SAINT

An advanced sacred class specializing in powerful restoration, protection and miracles.

The next stood within slowly rotating rings of distorted light.

CHRONOMANCER

An advanced arcane class specializing in temporal manipulation, delayed effects and interval control.

Other recommendations followed.

ARCANE SAVANT 

SPELLBLADE

GRAND ARTIFICER

ORACLE

Mira opened their descriptions one after another.

Every class came with unusually high growth potential, rare abilities and long specialization routes. The presentation was clearly designed to make the recommendations feel exceptional.

She understood why the system had produced them.

That did not make her want any of them.

Exceptional potential had followed Mira for most of her life. Schools had built programs around it. Researchers had measured it. Adults who had never met her had discussed what she ought to do with it.

She closed the recommended list and opened the ordinary catalogue.

Warrior.

Ranger.

Mage.

Thief.

Druid.

Bard.

Guardian.

Cleric.

The classes were simpler, and Mira found herself enjoying them more because she could browse without feeling as though the game had already decided which answer would impress it.

She paused on Ranger because the preview had a good cloak.

Mage had several excellent robes.

Druid included an outfit with antlers that she admired without wanting to wear.

Then she selected Cleric.

The avatar changed.

Mira's hand stopped over the menu.

Black and ivory layers wrapped the figure in a travelling robe that looked ceremonial without sacrificing movement. Warm-gold embroidery followed the cuffs, hems and edges of long overlapping panels. The gloves were fitted and dark, the boots practical, and several small charms hung from cords at the waist.

The scarf caught her immediately.

A broad ivory wrap crossed around the avatar's forehead above the glasses, leaving the orange hair free behind it before widening into layered fabric around the neck and shoulders. One section draped across the chest, while another fell down the back as part scarf, part hood and part mantle. Fine golden embroidery ran along the borders.

Mira rotated the avatar.

The fabric shifted naturally around the shoulders.

She opened the alternative outfit previews.

One used mostly white and warm gold. Another placed black beneath heavier ivory layers. A third had a larger mantle and long decorative cords that moved when the avatar walked.

Mira returned to the first.

She had never thought much about clothing beyond whether it was comfortable and appropriate for wherever she was going. Most of what she owned had been chosen quickly between other obligations.

This was different.

Nobody needed her to wear this.

It would not make her better at anything important.

She simply loved it.

Mira opened the class description.

CLERIC

Starting Rank: Common

Clerics use sacred abilities to heal injuries, protect allies, cleanse harmful influences and oppose corrupted creatures.

The mechanical description continued beneath it.

Mira skimmed the starting skills, then returned to the outfit preview.

She looked at the scarf again.

The decision became very easy.

Select Cleric?

Mira pressed Confirm.

The exceptional recommendations disappeared.

Her avatar returned wearing the Cleric outfit.

She smiled.

The character panel began processing.

A small loading symbol appeared beside the avatar.

Mira watched it rotate several times before an error notification surfaced along the edge of her vision.

AVATAR STATE CONFLICT

It disappeared almost immediately.

Another replaced it.

Mira's smile faded.

She opened the prototype's diagnostic panel.

Daniel had included limited access for testers to submit faults and inspect basic system information. Mira traced the error to two processes attempting to finalize the same character record under incompatible conditions.

One marked the avatar incomplete.

The other had already accepted it.

That was a poor place for disagreement.

She followed the references farther.

Several sections were routed through a compatibility layer that appeared to have accumulated exceptions during development. A cleanup process tried to remove unfinished character data, while another process restored the same data whenever it detected the deletion.

Mira changed one priority flag.

The error count dropped.

Three new warnings appeared.

She leaned forward.

The first conflict had been hiding another.

Mira opened the next dependency.

The diagnostic structure changed.

Naming conventions she had recognized throughout the prototype disappeared beneath layers of unfamiliar references. Several processes pointed toward locations the interface acknowledged but could not display. Some functions seemed to contain almost no data despite producing results that should have required enormous structures.

Mira stopped touching the controls.

That was strange enough to deserve caution.

She backed out of the deeper layer and returned to the character record.

The avatar flickered.

Its left hand vanished before returning.

Mira frowned and restored the last change.

The avatar flickered again.

Its face disappeared.

When it returned, the eyes were missing.

Mira's pulse accelerated.

"Okay, that's worse."

She tried to close the editor.

The interface did not respond.

CHARACTER INITIALIZATION IN PROGRESS

The avatar's elaborate Cleric robes collapsed into unfinished grey shapes. Its lower body vanished, returned, and distorted around the legs.

Mira opened the diagnostic controls again.

Processes were changing too quickly for the panel to display cleanly.

She could still see the original contradiction beneath them.

One system considered the character unfinished.

Another considered it valid.

Mira attempted to isolate the incomplete portions so initialization would stop until the conflict resolved.

The pale space around her trembled.

Her hands froze over the controls.

A dark fracture appeared across the floor of the character platform.

Another spread through the white sky.

The guide's voice returned as overlapping, distorted syllables.

Mira reached for the cancellation control.

The interface filled with symbols she had never seen.

Her avatar stood across from her.

The orange hair disappeared first.

Skin vanished from the arms and face.

For an instant, a white skeleton remained inside the failing model, still wearing Mira's round glasses.

The platform gave way.

Mira fell.

Her stomach lurched as blue sky opened beneath the collapsing character room. Wind struck her face with enough force to pull a gasp from her.

She reached for the glasses.

Her fingers found empty air.

Green forest rushed upward.

Then the world went dark.

Mira — Status

Race: Human

Class: Cleric

Level: 1

Strength: 4

Agility: 5

Endurance: 4

Perception: 8

Intelligence: 10

Spirit: 9

Essence: 25 / 25

Unassigned Attribute Points: 0

Skills

Equipment

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