Dreamland

Ayra was exhausted. Despite only being at the camp for a few days since Cala had brought her here, she was already regretting her decision to come.

This place was nothing like she had expected. Instead of adventure and mystery, there was only endless work, discipline, and rigidity. The nuns were running the camp like a military base and a business, with strict service hours and duties for the residents.

The tasks were never-ending, ranging from cleaning and preparing food for several hundred people to maintaining the corridors, toilets, dormitory, garden, and alleys. The cramped dormitory held sixty-four individual beds lining the walls in groups of four: a narrow aisle, two beds, one above the other, to the left, and two beds to the right. There were eight such narrow corridors on the windows side of the room and another eight on the opposite side, with a long wider passage splitting the room in two. Ayra's belongings were kept in a small wooden box under the bed, and in the evening, she had to stack her clothes neatly on a chair in the long corridor. There were sixty-four small chairs aligned with clothes stacked up.

In the morning, they rushed to get dressed, make their beds, and put the nightgowns on the chair in record time. The cramped lavatories with cold water were a challenge for the morning toilet routine before breakfast and work.

They only had a few smaller rooms, which could be earned through work points, but it felt like years until she could reach such a place.

Ayra felt trapped in this militarized, monastic environment.

Work, work, work, and more work. Her hands and feet were hurting her, and her back was aching.

Each area had its own section head; above them were the mothers and a couple of abbots who all reported to the superior mother. They could come at any time to the dormitory, inspect them and give them additional work. She heard that sometimes they would be taken out during the night for exercises.

Then there were the 'hours.' The study hours.

Now she was running. Running in line. They were running in a group. Keep in line! What kind of study was this? There were many young girls like her here, but they were not playing; they had no games, and there was no fun but work and hard exercise.

She was tired; she could not hold her place. The girl behind her pushed her, and she stumbled. She was falling behind, yet they forced her to make the same number of rounds as the others did. And whilst the others relaxed, she was still running. In the end, she fell to her knees. It was then that the instructor screamed at her to make her stand and run again. She could not, and then the instructor hit her with a wooden stick. She yelped and jumped on her feet.

"See? You can suddenly move!"

She finished her round on her knees whilst the instructor yelled in her ear:

"You will thank me! You may have to face harpies, lions, and other beasts! What would you do then? Cry? Do you think that would impress them? Run!!"

Another hit over her buttocks. It was not really hard, but painful and without honor. Disciplined as not even a lousy child would be.

She was tired. Gone were the good days when she was only waiting for clients in Aruba's shop or chatting with the clients or with the other shopkeepers.

Even the other girls were mean to her. They told her she was weak. They thought she was a rich girl or a thief when they found out that she had gold. The superior mother took her 4 gold coins in custody. That gold was more than enough to pay for a whole year of 'training.' She would not need to work to earn her board and lodging, but the superior mother asked where does she have the money from?

She did not want to believe that Cala had put it there. She said: “it must be a mistake.”

Her beautiful sales clerk dress was gone, and she was now wearing a grey uniform like everybody else. And she had to pay for it.

She wanted to run. The only thing that kept her here, the only thing that helped her endure this, was the thought that Spartacius would one day come back.

Ayra raised her head and ground her teeth with a new light of steely determination in her eyes.

Despite the grueling physical training, the cruel treatment from her peers, and the loss of her freedom and possessions, she remained determined to stay and endure, knowing that she had to be ready for whatever destiny had in store for her, even if it meant facing harpies, lions, and other beasts. And so, she waited, hoping that the day she would become Spartacius's mercenary would come soon, even as the archery hours had yet to begin.

She knew she would be ready by then.

*

As I approached the camp, I considered our situation. Perhaps our logout problem was caused by a local issue, which would explain why the game was still running. The game developers might have been unaware that a few players had difficulties.

I snored. Could we be so unlucky? Well, knowing my luck, it may very well be the case.

As soon as I emerged from the bushes, I spotted Spartacius, 'Terri,' and the Lynx eating by the fire. The ghost sat nearby while Alice conversed with a stranger a short distance away.

As I neared the fire, I turned to Spartacius and asked, "Where are you in real life?" interrupting the tranquil atmosphere.

All three turned to face me, surprised by my unorthodox question.

"I'm in our dormitory near the school. Why do you ask?" replied Spartacius, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Terri and the Lynx exchanged a quick glance but remained silent.

“Can it be that your colleagues let you play, ignoring how long you are staying there? I mean, you started playing yesterday? How many colleagues do you have in the room? Do you have some pampers on?”

He took a deep breath before answering, clearly surprised by my unorthodox line of questioning his underwear.

“No, I don't have pampers on, and that's not funny! We are two in one room. We have two double rooms with a bathroom in between. The other two guys often come to visit. We play together almost all the time. I am not sure if they realized my situation. We cover for each other, so they may tell the teachers that I am sick to let me play as long as I want. Why do you care? We have fun, and I feel good? You know that body functions are reduced when under the interface!”

"What are pampers?" - the Lynx asked with inquiring eyes.

Alice scorned him:

"Not now, Lynx!"

It was my turn to sigh. It seemed rather absurd to me, but it was possible… I turned towards the ghost:

“Ivar, have you got any message?”

“No, nothing. I had only bad dreams.”

I almost exploded. Bad dreams! As if somebody would care about his dreams... I did my best to compose myself and asked the next question graciously.

“Do you live alone at home?”

He confirmed my suspicion.

“Yes, I do...”

I sighed. My bad luck fears seemed to be confirmed.

“Can it be that we are among the only ones having a problem? And nobody knows of us?”

The Lynx and Terri watched our conversation intently, without commenting, but the Lynx's sideways glances were making me uncomfortable, so I decided to answer at least one of his questions. "Pampers are absorbent underwear for babies and sometimes for adults who need them," I explained.

The Lynx looked horrified at Spartacius, who tried to ignore his glance. I chuckled. To tell the truth, it is surprising how expressive his cat face can be.

Ivar confirmed that it was possible that our situation was unique. "I found people in chapter one who were able to log out without any issue," he said hesitantly. "But when I spoke to a paladin about our problem, she promised to raise a ticket but never got back to me."

Oh, well, so the general message about the world being out of order was probably not including this particularly painful for us small issue... We had been mistaken in thinking that this was a widespread problem.

“So a probable ticket is all we have.”

The ghost tried to excuse himself.

“After that, I was chased by shadows! Almost all the time! You don't know how stressful it is to be hunted!”

“Where are those shadows?” I asked.

He shrugged.

"Not here, OK? I don't know!"

Well, dumping my aggro on the poor ghost was not the solution to our problem.

"Well, OK, what is left is to contact any people we find from now on and ask them to raise a ticket for us. Does this sound like a plan?"

The ghost nodded.

"Sure. I need some rest as this conversation is exhausting my ghost, but as soon as it is again possible, I'll do it. You do your quest to get rid of that ring while talking to any players you see on your road."

Spartacius interrupted our conversation about logout:

“Why are you still a ghost? You missed preparing for resurrection?”

It was Ivar's time to raise his shoulders:

“It does not work. It seems the angels have no power anymore.”

Oh well, I had a suspicion:

“Can it be that they are linked with the Silver Shrines?”

“Yes, correct, their power comes from the Silver Shrines. Why do you ask?”

“Because it might be that an idiot named Grackak had destroyed the Silver Shrine in the Silver City.”

“Oh fuck, pardon my expression, but that is bad! Do you know why they are called Silver Shrines and Silver City? Because they shine in silver light due to the high density of their silver-colored magic. Their power comes from the magic node in the Silver City. If that shrine was destroyed, that might explain it.”

“So it means we have no more angel-based resurrection?”

Ivar laughed, a hauntingly ghostly laugh:

“Correct. You pay many months to be resurrected, and then an idiot comes and destroys the shrine! But are you sure of what you say? Because I don't think it was possible to destroy it!”

I shrugged. I was not sure; I only had White Flower's story. Spartacius interrupted us again:

“How do you know so much about the game?”

“I'm a game moderator.”

“A game moderator?”

He stood up:

“OK, you know something? First, let's concentrate on the logout issue. I am going to check again! Besides, I cannot eat, so I'll go right now. Are you still going to the Silver Town?”

“Yes”

“Then let's meet there at my castle. Ivar's castle is just before the town's entry on the right; you cannot miss it!”

“And the shadows?”

“I will run from them away. Once I am with people, they do not attack me. I just need to find some people and stay with them.”

Spartacius used the moment to share with us one of his pearls of wisdom:

“In the morning, the nightmares do not look so frightening anymore, isn’t it?”

Ivar's ghost conceded:

“Right. Well, see you!”

We waved as he left, disappearing in the air. I watched the point in the air where he disappeared.

Does it matter for me to continue playing the game, or should I let them kill me and live as a ghost until I am able to log out? At least I could spend more pleasantly the remaining time?

Is it more pleasantly?

On one side, I was inexplicably not really interested in life outside Dreamland. I kept forgetting about it. On the other side, here in Mephisto's Land, I don't want to become a ghost; that's definitively not funny. I have always hated this feature. Why on Earth do game designers think it is a good idea to punish me and make me run as a ghost after I lost my life, I lost experience points, and material value? At least here in the hardcore version, you just do it a minimal number of times if you are lucky and have paid enough tributes for the angels to restore you or, in many cases, just once to review your live exploits.

The angels are now on strike, and shadows are chasing your butt. Definitely not interested.

The Lynx, whilst taking another sausage with a claw and spilling several over the fire, asked me:

“So, what are you, demons or gods?”

Spartacius protested:

“Hey, watch what you are doing! It takes time to conjure more!”

“Pardon me, God of Food, but please make more; these small thingies are very palatable!”

“No thingies, sausages!”

“Sausages. Yep, please make more!”

I laughed seeing the greedy Lynx:

“You'll get fat!”

He answered with a grin:

“I'm working hard towards it, but no success so far. By the way, you did not answer Gods or demons?”

I sighed. I had the same conversation with Alice before, and Lynx and 'Terri' already know much about us. I watched Alice, who was still talking with the stranger, and answered the Lynx:

“We are kids, you know that!”

“Yes, but you did not answer the question.”

I sighed. He is stubborn.

“Oh, come on, you must realize we are no demons and no gods. We are just people from another world who come here to enjoy a world full of magic.”

“And you cannot go back?”

“Yes.”

He shrugged:

“Well, try to enjoy it then!?”

“If you sleep and do not wake up, how long can you enjoy a dream before you...?“

I did not end the sentence. I don't want now to paint the devil on the wall. I turned to Alice:

“Alice! Come here! Bring the lady with you! We need to eat before we leave!”

As the mage lady drew near, she lowered her hood, revealing a beautiful oval face with sparkling blue eyes. Her pointed ears, poking out from beneath her silver-blond hair, added a mischievous touch to her appearance, and her lips, a bold shade of red, parted slightly as she inhaled to speak.

“Tina is my name! Nice to meet you! Thank you for your kind invitation!”

I already thought I knew that silhouette, but now it was clear as Thiara's eyes locked into mine.

I sighed, a deep sight as I shook her hand. The Lynx grinned, and his left ear twitched, almost as if he tried to signalize something with it. I think he was mighty amused by the happening.

Not my decision, not my decision! Fuck! This is what happens when somebody else takes the decision; you get the problems handed over.

Spartacius jumped and gave her a greasy hand with a broad, grinning face:

“Spartacius! Pleased to meet you! These are Lynx, the wisest and hungriest Lynx in the world, and Terri, the best heal!”

She shook his hand without hesitation, her eyes still locked into mine. I had no words yet.