The Gilliam Server
The outskirts of the Rogroz Empire
I n a small bedroom on the second floor of a rather cheap yet decent inn, two people stood next to a high table covered with saliva, the source of which was the excited Brakvar.
Rikaral winced and took a napkin out of his inventory, which he then handed to his friend.
“You should seriously go see an Esper. This isn’t normal.”
“As if.” Brakvar raised his eyebrows, the expression on his face difficult to read. “That’s my specialty. It makes me unique.”
“I beg you!” Rikaral growled, putting into his voice all his disapproval for that kind of uniqueness when a quiet knock came, distracting them from their quarrel. “Wipe the table. Or she might think that you’re not a Grinswer[2] warrior but a mongrel.”
Rikaral walked around the table and headed for the door, his hand on the hilt of his recently purchased sword. He couldn’t be sure if the visitor was whom they were expecting.
“Who’s there?”
“Rikki?”
Hearing his pet name said in a female voice, he sighed with relief and removed his hand from the hilt. Opening the door, he stepped aside, letting the visitor in.
“Vietra. Where have you been?”
“May I sit down before you begin interrogating me?” asked the Arachnofite, shaking her head, and smiled as she saw Brakvar diligently wiping the table. “I was busy. You’re not the only ones who have things to do, you know.”
Coming inside, she sat down on the bed and continued.
“So what made you ask for an urgent meeting?” She squinted. Her gaze darted about the room until it stopped on Rikaral’s sheathed sword. “A level-two artifact?! Where did you get it?”
Vietra, an observant and curious lady, was an Esper (another word for magician) with a Mind Level of three. According to the classification used by the System before its Fall, she was a Guard, the third Mind Level rank out of ten.
Mind Level 1 ― Novice
Mind Level 2 ― Apprentice
Mind Level 3 ― Guard
Mind Level 4 ― Mentor
Mind Level 5 ― Master
Mind Level 6 ― Warden
Mind Level 7 ― Champion
Mind Level 8 ― Sage
Mind Level 9 ― The Chosen One
Mind Level 10 ― Hero
Anyone who reached the third Mind Level deserved to be called a genius. For example, Rikaral and Brakvar, who had reached level two a year before, had to wait at least ten years before they could try to unlock the next one.
Since the Admins had left, the servers had been stagnating and then regressing. The access to the System became restricted; the only thing it still allowed to do was initiate new players. The knowledge once available to all was now a precious treasure ultimately possessed — and zealously guarded — by the Great Families and ancient clans.
Every player who wanted so much a glimpse into that treasury had to enter their service or try their luck by searching the labyrinths and dungeons of the forgotten servers for pieces of lost knowledge.
Although the Families and the clans would teach and train their members, they also demanded complete loyalty, making every newcomer sign the strongest of all binding contacts.
That was why Brakvar and Rikaral remained free players, wandering the worlds and collecting strength one drop at a time.
“Do you remember the Token we asked you to identify for us five years ago?”
Rikaral took out the mentioned item and showed it to Vietra.
“So you’ve filled it...” she drawled, her eyes wide open.
“Yes. It would’ve been easier with your help, but still... It was hell but it was totally worth it,” Rikaral said with a smile, pulling out his sword and looking at it with admiration.
“May I have a look?”
With gleaming eyes, Vietra came up to him. Taking the weapon, she was about to use Identification when Rikaral stopped her.
“No need. I’ve recorded its data while in the store. Here.”
He handed her a small magic stone, a bit larger than his nail, containing all information about the sword — and more.
Like ninety-nine percent of all players, Rikaral couldn’t learn Identification because of its complexity, which was why he had recorded all information on the artifact.
There were rumors that in the past, everyone could use Identification by just thinking about it. But when the System collapsed and the Admins abandoned their servers, its activation became extremely time and energy-consuming. All because the spell’s algorithm, after a thousand years of oblivion, had been restored with a mistake.
Anyone who could still learn and use it was wanted by Great Families and clans in their service. Vietra was no exception, pledging allegiance to the Great Family of Nero.
“Does it sell any skills or spells?”
“It doesn’t,” Brakvar butted in, shattering her dreams. “Just gear. The best gear you can imagine. We’ve recorded each item’s data. Try not to faint when you read it.”
Vietra swallowed as she took the artifact and, pouring some energy in, began to read. As she did so, her face grew gloomier and gloomier until any trace of her recent merriness was gone.
“I can’t believe it’s real. Goddamn Admins. How could they be that irresponsible?” she cursed, sounding really angry with them for just disappearing, leaving the whole System to rot.
“We should move on to why I called you here...” Rikaral said, his face turning serious as he took the artifact from her.
Vietra raised her eyebrow as if inviting him to continue.
“I... I’m not hundred percent sure, but I think we met an Admin.”
The room was dead silent for a couple of seconds. And then Vietra burst out laughing. She laughed so hard that she had to grip her stomach and bend over.
“Ahahaha! You... Ahaha. Are you serious?!” She fell on the bed, still laughing. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard from you! Ahahaha! Do you understand that for that to be true... Ah, forget it. I know it’s impossible.”
Vietra laughed for several more minutes until she noticed that the two remained serious, patiently waiting out her fit.
“Are you done?”
“No, but come on,” she said with a condescending smile, preparing for more nonsense.
“Fine.” Rikaral could relate to her reaction. He doubted that he would’ve reacted differently in her place. “I’ve heard that those who reached Mind Level Three can read other people’s memories. Is that true?”
“Sort of. At this level, it’s possible.”
“And you? Can you do it?”
The room lapsed into silence again as Vietra stared at him. At last, she sighed and, stretching, said slowly:
“I can. But it’s dangerous. For the one whose memories I’ll be reading.”
“Complications?”
She smirked.
“You may call it so. Ones that could lead to death.”
“And the probability of success...?”
“...is about twenty percent. Maybe slightly more.”
Rikaral froze. He hadn’t expected the chance of success to be that low. Considering it for a while, he asked:
“Is there any way to minimize the risk?”
“Actually... There is. Have you heard of the Death Canyon Server?”
“I have. It has one of the most dangerous dungeons in this Royal System. As far as I remember, it’s known as the Realm of the Seven Kings.”
“Yes. And the Oracle’s Diadem? Have you heard of it?” Vietra stood up and came to the table, summoning a magic crystal out of thin air. “Look.”
The small red gem activated, showing a series of slowly rotating 3D images until Vietra stopped on the one portraying a diadem of light-blue leaves, with the item’s data showing next to it.
The description said that it used to belong to one of the Realm’s bosses and that it could only be obtained by killing its current owner, the Dark Oracle.
Vietra went on.
“The average price is about twenty hundred and fifty thousand dorrah[3]. I don’t think you can afford it.”
Rikaral cast a helpless glance at her, knowing just too well that he could neither travel to the dungeon nor buy the diadem at this point. The former would kill him and the latter would make him a slave. To buy his new sword, he had spent all the savings he had made over the past five years. If it weren’t for a couple of the guild orders Brakvar and he had completed two days ago, they would’ve already run out of money to pay for their stay at the inn.
“Are there only two options?”
“You can join my Family. Or any other Family that has such a Diadem.” She waved a hand, taking the crystal, and shrugged. “You must be really sure you’ve run into an Admin. You wouldn’t be this persistent otherwise.”
Rikaral smiled bitterly.
“I’d love to see your reaction when you see what we’ve seen and heard. We just need to find a way. Who would’ve thought that it’d be this difficult...?”
“There’s one thing I don’t get. Why do you want me to see it? Why don’t you contact any Families or clans?”
“You’re the only Esper whom I trust. I’m sure you won’t reveal the secret.”
“I still don’t understand.” Vietra furrowed her brows. The next moment, her face lit up. “Do you want to find them?!”
“Yes.” Rikaral’s voice was firm. “For a start, I need space energy. I remember you’ve told me your Family has been accumulating it for ages. As a voter, you can take some for us, can’t you?”
Vietra shook her head.
“No. I absolutely can’t. That’s a strategic resource. Even if I were the head of our Family, the elders wouldn’t let me waste it on something that stupid.”
“I hope you’ll change your mind when you see it.”
“I’ll consider it. It’s the least I can do.”
She knew that Rikaral was going to get his hands on the Oracle’s Diadem in one way or another.
“Till next time, then.”
He nodded to Brakvar who had been silent for most of the time, trusting his friend to call all the shots, and walked out, leaving Vietra alone with her thoughts.
“Hey!” Her voice reached them a couple of minutes later when they were already out of the city, heading for the inter-server portal. “Can I go with you?”
Looking back, both Rikaral and Brakvar froze with astonishment. Vietra shook her head, as though struggling to believe she was actually doing this.
“Are you sure? You don’t even believe us.”
“I don’t believe you’ve seen a legendary Admin. But if you have...” She squinted. “I’d love to meet them in person and ask them a few questions.”
They were silent for a while. Then Brakvar smiled and put his hands on his friends’ shoulders, laughing out merrily.
“You know just how much I like adventuring!”
It was sometimes unfathomable how childlike he could get.