From Real to Realm

Thwack!

Wood on wood echoed through the training grounds behind the guildhall. It was getting late in the evening, long shadows cast along the ground. Amarisse was panting, wooden shield and sword in hand. The grounds were empty aside from a handful of guards patrolling. Every other adventurer had already gone home for the day, leaving her alone.

Thwack! Crack! Thunk!

Amarisse continued to strike the wooden dummy even as sweat stung her eyes. Some attacks were sloppy while others were accurate.

Faster! Stronger! I’ve got to get better!

With a twirl, Amarisse clocked the head of the dummy with the blunt edge of her shield. The front of the base lifted from the ground as it rocked from the attack. Just as it rocked back, she pivoted and brought her sword down on its shoulder, hard.

Crunch!

As soon as she made contact, she felt the jolt travel up her arm. However, the sword couldn’t survive the attack as it split at the halfway point between her grip and where it made contact with the dummy.

“Still… not good… enough…” she mumbled between heaving breaths.

Amarisse looked down at the splintered stub of the sword in her hand. With a huff she tossed it to the side, next to a couple more in a similar state.

“Damnit… why can’t I get my attributes to increase?!”

She slammed her head against the side of the weapon rack. Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks as she thought about their most recent delve. She spent hours going over everything in her head. Every detail, every movement, every block and attack. She did it as if she could pinpoint the exact moment she failed to do her job.

“I need to get stronger… for everyone…”

Ever since that fateful delve, Amarisse had been coming to train every day. She trained relentlessly, repeating the basics over and over while trying to learn new techniques. By now she’d broken a handful of wooden weapons and damaged a couple of shields in the process. Her hands had become dry and calloused. While her outfits were becoming more shredded with each passing day. Other adventurers had tried to step in, to convince her to take a break, but she refused. From dawn to dusk every day, she trained.

She squeezed the new sword in her hand, her grip tight and unyielding. “Can’t stop. Again, I need to get better at this.”

Amarisse took her place in front of the dummy. She bent at her hips, lowering into a defensive stance. After closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. The air around her calmed—then she struck. With an explosive launch, she slammed the flat of the shield into the chin of the dummy almost toppling it. At the final moment, just before it would fall backwards, she spun off. With all her strength she brought the sword down on the neck of the dummy, yelling out as she did so.

Crack!

Thump.

When the sword made contact the dummy finally gave out. Now its head lay in the sand, its featureless face staring up at Amarisse. Even now, she felt the exhaustion beginning to weigh on her again, worse than before. Her hands hurt, her feet hurt, her body ached in protest. Every day was another day of training, another day to become the best Tank she could be—at least at this level

Amarisse stood, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. “Status.”

[Name:]

Amarisse Trunelle

[Age:] 20

[Race:]

Leporcuni

[Combat Type:] Tank

[Archetype:] Locked

[Level:] One

[Strength:] C

[Endurance:] C

[Agility:] E

[Dexterity:] D

[Resolve:] D

[Resilience:] C

[Arcana:] ?

[Mana:] ?

[Learned Techniques:]

Bulwark Reave [T1]

[Passive Traits:]

None

“Strength is close to reaching B… how close though?” she mumbled.

An attribute being bold meant it wasn’t all that far from going up. However, it was rare for someone to have an attribute at B before level five was rare.

“Would I be so lucky? Unlikely…” she mumbled. “Agility though… that’s likely to get the bump instead.”

Three days. She’d been training for three days and nothing had changed. All she had to show for all the training was a new Learned Technique, Bulwark Reave.

She sighed. “Learned Techniques.”

A smaller window overlapped the main status screen.

[Learned Techniques]

Bulward Reave [T1]

Charge behind your shield to stagger and expose; spin off the impact to deliver a crushing neck cleave—executing weakened foes, or breaking the collar on armored targets.

Earning that technique was random. Early on, she was testing varying movements. She wanted something to knock her opponent off balance, opening them up for an attack. Leading with her shield also meant it gave her some protection, so long as she didn’t over-extend. At least the system saw fit to reward her for all the hard work.

“Could I have protected Mina if I had this? What about saving Elza?” she asked aloud, jaw clenching.

Amarisse shook her head. She knew it was unlikely such a technique could’ve made the difference needed.

What little light was left was quickly fading. Long shadows gave way to total darkness as the faint glow of prism torches illuminated the border of the training grounds.

“I should call it a day…”

She walked over to the weapon rack, placing the worn sword and shield back. Her fingers lingered on the rough wooden texture of the shield as a memory surfaced.

“You should be a tank! It fits your personality perfectly!”

Amarisse smiled softly. Originally she was on the fence, Tank or Brawler? Mina was the one to talk her into becoming a Tank. Her reasoning was that a Tank could be a Brawler at the same time, just with a little more defense. Plus she’d be using weapons instead of her fists, but that was a minor inconvenience at best.

“If I’ve got you protecting me, I know I’ll be safe!”

Her eyes started getting blurry again, tears filling her vision.

“I couldn’t protect you, Mina…” Amarisse slammed her fist against the rack. “I promise to do better next time.”

Amarisse struggled to calm down as she grabbed her things. When she finally started heading for the main gate, she wiped the tears from her face. Mina risked her life protecting Lucia. Now it was Amarisse’s turn to do the same for others.

Four days.

It had been four days since Lucia watched Elza die. Moments later she was forced to watch a close friend risk their life for her. Four days of waking up in a cold sweat, panting, heart racing, feeling the room closing in on her. Lucia never had panic attacks before. They were beginning to weigh on her, affecting her day-to-day life now

Loud noises would make her jump and back away. Bumping into someone on the street sent her reflexively shoving them away. Being in a cramped room made her feel suffocated, like something was pressing down on her chest. None of these things were normal for her, but what could she consider normal anymore? After four days of that, could she even remember what true normalcy felt like?

Lucia had heard of adventurers losing it after witnessing a party death. But that couldn’t be her, right? She was too smart and well read to be affected by that. She spent years preparing for a life of delving and fighting, or at the very least healing. It wasn’t like Val; she didn’t jump into it after barely a week if that.

“Val…”

Lucia wondered how Val was doing. She wa—

Crash!

Lucia jumped at the sound of something outside spilling onto the street. Suddenly she found herself backed up against the wall clutching her chest. Her heart raced, feeling like it was on the verge of bursting. Sweat immediately beaded on her forehead and she struggled to calm her breathing.

Only after taking a few minutes to calm down could she think clearly again.

“I—I need to get ready…” she mumbled. “Elza’s funeral is soon…”

Lucia was curious if Val would be there or not. Last she saw, Val was still unconscious in the guild infirmary. Her girlfriend had been there each time Lucia had visited. Lynesia was her name. She seemed like a good girl, someone who really loved Val. Lucia wasn’t lucky enough to have someone like that right now. She was forced to drown alone.

Lucia laid a black plain dress on the bed, smoothing it out as she looked it over. Who else would be there for the funeral? Amarisse would be. Val might. Mina wouldn’t be able to, not unless they made progress with the corruption. What about family? Did Elza have family? Would they be asking questions? Would they blame any of them for not saving their daughter?”

“N—no… of course they wouldn’t, right? Everyone knows what the dungeon is… the risks… what to expect…”

Lucia had only ever been to funeral rites for family before. This was the first time for a friend, fellow party member, and adventurer. If she kept going, would she be forced to experience this again? Could she handle this again? What if it was Mina, Amarisse, or Val? Could she handle that?

“I’d be crushed…”

Lucia sniffled, thinking back on a memory. She was walking through one of the smithing wings with Mina. She’d seen the blades and armor and practically dragged Lucia inside.

“Come on! We can fantasize about what armor we’ll buy when we’re rich and famous!”

Lucia smiled to herself. “Rich and famous, huh?”

Plip. Plip. Plip.

Teardrops fell on the soft blankets beneath her.

“You’ve got to beat this corruption first, Mina. Then you can become rich and famous…”

Lucia tried wiping the tears from her eyes. This entire ordeal had weighed her down and now she was beginning to doubt her career choice. If she couldn’t walk down the street without jumping and panicking at every sound and bump, how could she be in the dungeon.

She slowly exhaled. “Time to say goodbye…”

Val was standing in front of the mirror in her room. She adjusted the cuffs on her outfit, trying to smooth the black fabric out.

Lynesia’s arms gently wrapped around her waist from behind. “How are you feeling?”

Val took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

Lynesia walked around to face her. “Don’t lie to me, Val.” She placed her hands on Val’s cheeks. “You jumped out of bed swinging at air last night.”

Val leaned into Lynesia’s touch. “I—I know… it’s probably going to take a while before the nightmares stop.”

Lynesia smiled softly. “I know. I’ll be here the entire time.”

She rose onto her toes and kissed Val. The kiss was soft and sweet. The soft scent of berries flooded her nose. Lynesia had bathed before Val woke up, so she smelled great right now. It helped to ground Val to the here and now.

Lynesia pulled away. “Are you ready?”

Val checked over herself once more, then shook her head. “I’ll never be ready to bury friends.”

Lynesia frowned. “I’m right here, anytime you need me.”

With that, they left Val’s place and started walking toward The Prism of Twelve’s cathedral.

The walk was somber, but short. The cathedral was roughly ten minutes from the guildhall.

When Val and Lynesia arrived they saw a small group of people walking through the front doors. As soon as the group was through, Val saw them—Lucia and Amarisse.

Lynesia gently squeezed Val’s arm to remind her she wasn’t alone as they approached.

Amarisse and Lucia split the difference.

Amarisse was the first to make it to her, pulling her into a hug. “I’m so happy you’re okay…”

Lucia stepped in and joined the hug, already sniffling. “We were afraid we’d lose you too…”

Val did her best to keep it together. That was impossible, though.

“I—I’m so sorry…” she barely said.

Amarisse and Lucia both shook their heads as they released Val.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Amarisse said, placing a hand on Val’s shoulder. “None of us could have prepared for that.”

Lucia was wiping her eyes with a tissue. “At least the mimics were eliminated by the high-tier chapters. They avenged Elza.”

Val nodded, wiping away tears.

“I wish I was seeing you both again on better terms,” Lynesia said, wrapping around Val’s arm again.

Lucia and Amarisse smiled.

“It’s good to see Val has someone to take care of her stubborn ass,” Amarisse said, still fighting back tears.

Lucia nodded, elbowing Amarisse. “Val can handle herself, but it’s nice to have an anchor I’m sure.”

Bong. Bong. Bong.

Everyone turned to look toward the cathedral as the large bell rang out across the landscape.

“It’s about to start,” Lucia said. “Let’s go inside.”

The cathedral stretched high into the sky as the group approached it. She’d seen it from blocks away, but up close she had to crane her neck to catch the tallest spires. The cathedral was a large circle with twelve individual spires each one with a flag waving from the top. Each spire had a different colored flag: white, black, red, orange, gold, green, blue, purple, pink, teal, brown, and gray.

“This place is… massive,” Val said under her breath.

“It’s the main cathedral for The Prism of Twelve. Most rites are held here,” Lucia said, jumping as she bumped into someone. “A—anyways, there are catacombs below us dating centuries back. There is also a large cemetery on the outskirts of town they take care of.”

As the group walked through the doorway the smell of burnt incense filled their noses. To their left and right were long hallways that curved out of sight. Ahead of them was a large central room. Prism sconces were placed equally apart in every direction as well.

Val didn’t have enough time to continue admiring the building as they moved toward the center room. As they finally pushed through the threshold she saw it. On a solid stone platform rested a coffin.

Due to the height, Val couldn’t see who was in it. Then again, she knew who was. They were here for that reason after all.

Lynesia squeezed Val’s hand. “How are you holding up?”

Val squeezed back. “I’m not okay, but I’m managing.”

The four of them continued to move forward through the aisle, passing by empty pews. When they finally reached the front, they all moved to sit on the right side. There were maybe a dozen people total so far, not including them. No one looked like weeping parents, most were adventurers from the guild. Some still in gear while others were in black clothing as well.

After sitting there for a few minutes the doors to the back room were slowly closed by robed figures. Each of them were wearing gray priestly robes. After taking their places by the door, another man walked from a side room. He had on long flowing gray robes that dragged along the floor behind him. Resting on the crown of his head was an ornate gray bishop’s hat.

Once he reached the small pedestal to the side, he spoke. “Thank you all for joining us in celebrating the life of Elza Blount.”

A few more priests came out of the side rooms, taking their places on each side of the coffin. Each one had their head down, eyes closed, and hands clasped together.

“As most of you may know, Elza was an adventurer. She chose to risk her life fighting the evils within the dungeon. She was a spirited young woman who spoke her mind and had strong convictions.” He paused, looking amongst those in the crowd. “Her personality was charged, but she made easy friends.” His gaze rested on Val, Lucia, and Amarisse. “And found herself strong, capable comrades in arms.”

Val was barely holding it together. She could only imagine how Lucia and Amarisse were doing.

“While Elza was only just beginning her life, it was full. Full of joy, hope, strength, and love.”

The other two priests slowly started shuffling toward the middle of the coffin.

“Today we say goodbye, but tomorrow we will embrace her in a reuniting hug in the heavens.”

With that final line he turned towards the coffin just as the other two closed the top. Each one rested a hand on the coffin before a faint red rune glowed across the top of it.

The room went eerily silent as everyone bowed their heads. Val didn’t know if they were praying or if they were just taking a moment of silence. Either way, she found the desire to try and speak to Qhemeria.

This couldn’t be what you had in mind for me, right? I don’t want to bury friends ever again. I—I hope there’s more than this if I choose to keep going. Just… promise you’ll watch over Elza up there. For me, please.

Lynesia gently squeezed Val’s hand and arm.

Val opened her eyes and glanced at her love. Things had gone so horribly wrong recently, but at least she had someone who supported her.

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