Welcome to Earth
Sivitya: Earthly Manifestation
I put worry behind me; I had the name so I called.
Brr, brr… brr, brr.
The sound was novel…normally response was instant. I listened longer.
Brr, brr… brr, brr. Click.
He’d rejected the call! He didn’t want to talk to me. For a moment I was lost, then my resolve kicked in. I had to call him. This was important. I pressed the button again.
Brr, brr… brr, brr.
A voice at the other end said, “Hullo?” Was that Akalito?
“Akalito? It’s me…”
Sivitya, I was going to add but he interrupted. “Lissen, I don’t know how you got my number but it’s um… err… must be three o’ clock in the morning…”
I knew time was important and it was there on the Book. While he paused I said, “Three forty-five. I got you from deus-ex and I’m very sorry for using it and… are you Akalito?”
“No I’m… I’m… wait. Are you talking about… talking about Earth Myth?”
Earth Myth, Earth Myth… the words circled in my mind. I looked at the unfamiliar surroundings; plain white walls and locked doors at either end, overhead a dim orange light and to my right the remains of a shattered panel where I’d burst through. No sign of my attacker, but I was certain I wasn’t in Eald Widu. Not here.
Earth Myth, Earth Myth… Was the name right? The terrible sense of loneliness surged and my tongue was stilled. What could I say? Here I was in a strange land attempting to follow the Adventurers’ Code, but I was only a door witch. Even the Book I held to my ear wasn’t really mine; just something I was entrusted with as a door witch. Then I remembered my duty: defend the house.
“I – I come to you with news that House Batezz of the Eald Widu is unprotected and,” my voice reduced to a whisper, “I failed my duty.”
“This is a wind-up, right?”
“Wind-up,” I repeated mechanically.
“Anyway, who are you? Where are you ringing from? Do you realise I have to go to work in the morning?”
“I am Sivitya and I am ringing from…”
“No! Impossible. Now I know this is a prank. Who did this, who set me up?”
I hadn’t expected this reaction. “I don’t know, I don’t know.” My voice quavered a little and I was certain I’d got this horribly wrong. “I was fighting off an attack on House Batezz and though I was undefeated, I was cast out of Eald Widu.” Tears bubbled and I sobbed, “I don’t know where I am.”
“Hold on, don’t cry. I was asleep when you called, I’m a bit more awake now.”
“Do you know where Akalito is? I have failed him.”
I heard him catch his breath. “Can you tell me where you are?”
I looked around again. “I am in a white-walled passage, there are doors at either end with a further two doors leading off to the right. On the ceiling is an oval orange light. The flooring is a pale green and immediately to my right is a panel which shattered when I entered this world.”
There were sounds like the swishing of robes then I heard him, more faintly. “Don’t hang up, stay where you are, I’m just getting dressed.”
“Oh.” I hadn’t told him I couldn’t get back to my post as a door witch. That would wait until he told me his next step. What was his next step? I held the Book to my ear, expectantly.
Moments passed.
“Now listen,” he said. “I’m going outside and once I’m there I’ll describe a landmark. Just go back outside and see if you can spot it. That’s all you need to do. Ready?”
“Okay,” I said, looking at the burst panel. I was dubious as to how I would fit through there. The opening was kind of my size, but the hole was shallow; I would barely fit. The only way that would happen was if it led somewhere. It didn’t. I’d come through and I couldn’t go back; one more reason to call Akalito.
Well I couldn’t get back in that hole, but I’d worry about that when he found his landmark. But was this Akalito? I put the Book on the floor to examine the remains of the panel again. It was flimsy and painted white, resting between another two exactly like it. There was enough room behind them to store a mage’s staff or several rapiers, perhaps even a club… but you’d never get the mage’s staff out. Behind the panels was a solid wall with plenty of cobwebs; disturbed where I’d burst through.
I was alerted by a scuffling noise!
What was that? From behind one of the doors. It grew closer but plainly someone, or something, was being purposefully quiet. Had the thing that ambushed me in Eald Widu followed me, and was I going to be attacked again? I was still armed, but this corridor was too narrow if I was to evade capture.
Deus-ex – that which powered the Book – I needed to let Akalito know. A panic-driven scrabble on the floor and it was in my hands. What would I tell him?
I felt a draught as the door behind me opened, silently.
Too late!
I stifled a scream, tumbled away with a thump and drew an embroidered, ceremonial dagger.
Akalito: Who is Who?
“Don’t do it, don’t do it!” I cried… or at least tried to. But one by one they donned the reality simulating headgear. No-o-o! I screamed, but there was no sound. I knew what came next; big, bold letters plastered wider than the eye could see:
N E W H O R I Z O N S
Next was the Japanese voiceover, sub-titled in English. I waited and waited… but it never came.
I knew it by heart:
“The top gamers from the eastern islands of Shikishima have assembled to test the latest in virtual reality gaming. But due to an error they are locked in the world of Mystical Zhungaria, compelled to adventure through the steppes and deserts, doomed to encounter the peoples and beings, in hope of escaping the world of New Horizons.”
In my mind’s eye the sub-titles formed, and dissolved.
Br-r-ring br-r-ring! Br-r-ring br-r-ring!
I wasn’t ready to wake up but the prelude to New Horizons – an anime show from ten years ago – was already flushed from my brain. My eyes weren’t ready to open but it was insistent.
Br-r-ring br-r-ring! Br-r-ring br-r-ring!
Sleep! I need sleep.
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I tried to get my brain into gear… Sivitya… I was beginning to come to my senses. Sivitya… I knew that name and I groaned inside. I resisted looking over at my Dive RM. The Dive RM was gaming gear that fit on your head and covered your eyes to create a virtual gaming experience – including a shell resonance chamber close to the ears – essential for combating the build-up of ear sweat. It rested where I’d left it when I started work at Infra, on the gaming screen embedded into the surface of my desk. I refused to call it a DeskTopp which just sounded stupid, even so, its smooth black finish called to me – but now was a bad time.
I stalked down the stairs, grumbling inside. Some people take Earth Myth too seriously. This could be a wind-up, or a test or… I didn’t speculate further. It was my own stupid fault if some game junkie latched onto me. Several possibilities rippled through my head – someone from the Evil Carnelionne Guild was a possible. I’d left them ages back – they were power levellers but I just couldn’t stay up till four a.m. every night. Some of them privately messaged me for a while after, bitching about my lack of commitment; that’s when I started my first magister class character. Come to think of it, Akalito was a magister so no one from Evil Carnelionne would connect him to my level thirteen nomad, Allansius, who’d actually been in that guild. I was determined to get this sorted out, but in a civilised way. I felt drained; this was definitely the wrong time for playing pranks.
Grumpy days, grumpy nights, the story of my life; at least until I got Earth Myth. It then became grumpy days and glorious nights while I fought my way through the raised undead and magical treachery to claim my own house. Small but well-protected and a place to rest up, in between adventuring. Of course stay up too late on Earth Myth and I wasn’t fit for work. I worked at Infra – it wasn’t much of a job but she didn’t need to know that. It was a grind but it paid the bills. Work in the day, the night’s for play. Repeat.
I was at the bottom of the stairs and I tried to imagine which local landmarks I could see in the dark – ChromSpire? Outlook Tower? – unfortunately I hadn’t a clue. I needed to get my brain in order. A coffee would be good but not if I wanted to sleep the rest of the night. I’d have to settle for the night air. I wondered if it was raining. I reached for the handle and pushed the door open. Be quiet. Don’t wake the neighbours.
Who did she say she was? Sivi… I usually set servant names then forgot them.
A flurry of bare skin and skimpy green blouse cartwheeled away. Coming to rest with a very dangerous looking dagger pointing at me.
“Ahhh!” That was me.
The blouse was doing an unsuccessful job of covering what it should.
“I’m not looking, I’m not looking,” I blurted.
Fierce eyes became puzzled.
“Akalito?”
I sagged inwardly. Next to me the access way to read the gas and electric meters was ruined. Very good, very good. I was almost taken in.
An angry shout came from inside number four. “What the hell is going on out there?” That was grumpy Mister Dond. Not Stephen or Steve, just Mister. Yeah, I suppose we were all grumpy here… except at number two, he’d left months ago. No replacement. He might be grumpy where he’d gone but at least he wasn’t living in this place. The door chain rattled and the nearest door opened. Mister Dond took in the scene. Meanwhile a flash of inspiration gave me the answer to the question bubbling on his lips.
Not daring to look at the panel, I said, “Sorry, Mister Dond, cosplay rehearsal, too enthusiastic.”
Simultaneously she said, “I’m Akalito’s cousin.” No longer puzzled but determined.
Did he make sense of that? Hopefully not and hopefully he wouldn’t see the smashed panel. My hopes fell as he muttered, “I’ll be telling the landlord about that.”
Time to move. I played along. “Come on, Sivi, playtime over,” taking her in for the first time. Her primrose and green blouse was ripped, revealing bruises and scrapes. Aside from that she was slim with enough curves on show that I needed to look away, but not before I placed her: blonde hair in a pony-tail, blue-eyed and a heart shaped face.
Familiar, very familiar, but no, I didn’t have no cousin called Sivitya. I’d find out what she was planning soon enough so I played along. This had to be a set-up. I had my knowing smile ready. But fierce eyes had changed all the way to recognition, if not trust. What if this wasn’t a set up?
The door closed behind us and we tramped back up to my bedsit in silence. At least I hadn’t had to go outside. We reached the top. My door was first. Time to gather my thoughts: How did she get here? How did she know the name of my door witch from Earth Myth and was she from Evil Carnelionne? If not them, how about Garth Dalesmen – I sometimes grouped as Allansius with them. Anyway I knew her from somewhere so I was bound to figure it out.
We entered my room and I suddenly became a tidy demon – clothes strewn everywhere, pizza boxes by my workstation, a pile of letters on the dresser, wardrobe part open, bed in a mess, games magazines spread over the sofa. Even under the dim night-light it looked a mess. I didn’t do girlfriends so it was my bachelor’s pad and stayed like that, except for now.
“Hold on,” I said, “and I’ll clear a space. Look, ready. Sit.” I gestured, smiling my cheesiest smile.
“You are Akalito?” she asked. She sat and I quickly noticed my error; the state of her clothing meant I was seeing far too much of her. A flush began and I turned away.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Here.” I picked up my bathrobe and handed it over. “You’ll be… umm… err… warmer. Say, how did you get my number?”
She put the robe on and then showed me something eerily familiar, a pastel tablet with a mini screen. “If you are Akalito, your Book.”
I sat on the corner of my bed as she passed it to me. “Where did you get this?”
“Prove you are Akalito and answer your own question.”
“It can’t be.” It should have been on my desk, in my Eald Widu house, in Earth Myth. I had another house in Earth Myth but that was from when I was newbie on Allansius, when it was safer to site adventurer homes near starting cities. At level thirteen, Allansius was high in the ranking; the maximum level was twenty but no one had passed level fifteen. Akalito, my magister, was a level seven. Eald Widu – the old forest – was a little wild for him but Allansius had subdued local non-player characters; fae, goblinners and suchlike, and compelled them to build the house. Akalito had made it a magister’s retreat, and yes, had hired a door witch from the local fae. From Eald Widu. In Earth Myth. An online game. So who was this? She looked very much like Sivitya. Given the state of her clothes, something had assaulted my door witch. No, wait. Was I thinking this through properly? What if this was all part of the game. Someone might have raided House Batezz, breaking past Sivitya, which would make this person an imposter. Or would it? and should I test her? I needed to clear my head and for that I really needed a coffee.
“You’ve been fighting.” A statement, not a question.
She answered anyway. “Yes.”
I turned the Book over and over. Could this be real? In Earth Myth it handed out quests and if you were in a guild, could be used to contact guild members; a hard-to-obtain artefact. Some had even attempted to replicate a Book for real. Losers. I reached for my glasses to study it but I knew what to ask her. “Where do I keep my trophies?”
“Aha! Now I know you are Akalito because you keep a pair of glasses in your house on the table where you keep that.” She pointed at the Book. “And you always put them on when you want to look closely at something. I know you’re you, but you don’t know I’m me,” she declared triumphantly.
“But you still haven’t told me where I keep my trophies.”
“That’s because you haven’t any.” After a couple of seconds she added, “Loser.”
“But this can’t be here, and neither can you.” I rolled back on my bed, the unexpected Book in my hands.
“I have news about your house.”
Sivitya: Convincing Akalito
Something was missing in him; of course he was in another guise but I thought he looked weaker, almost frail. Was this the consequence of powerful sorcery? And yet he appeared to be at home, as if his circumstance was a natural state of affairs. I put that misgiving to one side but I was uncomfortable letting the Book out of my hands. It belonged in the house, his house, but he was not himself. Even though he looked somehow less magnificent – scrawnier – but the pale, jutting nose was a giveaway. I was convinced he was Akalito, so I needed to convince him to recognise me and hear my message. He was more complex than I had imagined and I realised I was in the presence of the true Akalito.
He adjusted his glasses as he toyed with the Book. “How did you get me?” he asked eventually.
“You are on the list. I tried using owner-connect but it doesn’t function here.” Was it was time for me to ask questions? Probably not, but I asked anyway. “Are we a long way from Eald Widu?”
“A very long way. I wonder if I can use this to contact…”
I burst in, “Before you do anything, please listen to my story. It is easier to change your plans before you commit to anything.”
He leaned back, a speculative gleam in his eye. I now had a reason to look him over in the dim light of his room; tousled black hair with pale streaks, unshaven, his eyes had a hint of blue and they were deeply shadowed, I guessed from lack of sleep. Sturdy blue leggings that were tight on his bum, a pale shirt and a brown jacket. He wasn’t uncomely as magisters go and would easily take pride of place against any from the houses I knew. Of course A very long way sounded ominous and I wondered just how hard it would be for me to go back. But surely I could put my trust in him; he was the magister. Then I heard a creak outside the door.
I put my finger to my lips. “Shhh.”
Again there was a creak. I wished for the Mace of Command but that was as futile as wishing to be back guarding House Batezz. In a single flowing movement I cast down Akalito’s robe and the ceremonial dagger was firmly gripped in my hand. It both puzzled and amused me that Akalito turned his eyes away as I silently sped to the door. I wrenched it open suddenly. To my disgust Mr Dond, the man who’d confronted us down the stairs, almost fell into my lap. I stepped back, keeping the blade between us and sized him up. In turn he backed away in horror, out of the room. A magic spell might have sent him packing but Akalito hadn’t seen fit to cast a spell and he must know the by-laws of this place – until I knew them too, any castings of my own would be rash and inappropriate.
Mr Dond broke into babble. “You’re up to something, you can’t hide it.”
I moved forward threateningly and he flinched. I studied that fleshy pink face set on a robe-covered rotund body. Tiny piggish eyes stared back, fear fought lust as they fixed on the details of my blouse and body. There was little humanity to see. A lecher. I made another sudden move and he scrambled away, to the stairs and down them.
“I’m gonna tell the police. No gonna tell the landlord then I’m gonna tell the police. I bet she’s underage. Just wait until the landlord hears about this, he’s really gonna sort you out.”
Akalito: Shall I Reflect on Thee?
Things were going from bad to worse. Mr Dond knew how much I hated the landlord. I needed to get out of here. I doubted he’d call the landlord at this time but I couldn’t face the thought of the police. At the same time: Isekai, Isekai, journey to another world echoed in my head. I immersed myself in Earth Myth. Some on western servers thought the name, Akalito, weird and others poked fun, cementing my decision to base my avatar in the wilds. I’d learned from the mistakes of others, siting House Batezz – the place where I kept my treasure hoard – deep in Eald Widu where it was all but impossible to be raided. Earth Myth encouraged raids by low level role-playing gamers on the hoards of higher levels, but House Batezz would not be that easy, oh no. In turn, that gave me chance to develop Akalito, who was a special class that could only be unlocked if you knew the steps. Thinking on the game did nothing to fix my situation. It might be a bad idea but I needed a brew to calm down.
I said, “Sit down. Here, get this back on.” I handed her my bathrobe. “Would you like a coffee?” I busied myself digging out the electric kettle from two cushions on the floor; it was dry from lack of use. Kettle but no coffee.
“A cah-fee?” she repeated, puzzled.
My ingenuity failed; I hadn’t a clue where it was – plus I was figuring out how to test if this whole situation was a prank. “I’ve no coffee.” I conceded. I added, “We could go out for one, but in those clothes, you’d start a riot.” Not to mention attracting the attention of the police.
She repeated me again, “Go out?” She really was in character and it took all my mental energy to frame her as a prankster.
“Yes.” It would probably be a good idea to disappear from my bedsit, but what could she wear? I racked my brains – the best I could come up with was my old green kagoul – one I’d never parted with, even though it was too small – principally because I couldn’t justify the expense. Briefly, very briefly, my brain switched back to rent mode. I was two months late. I bundled the worry away; now that I was back in a temporary job at Infra, I’d soon be able to catch up. Pay the rent then double down on credit cards – three weeks until pay day.
Book forgotten, I marched over to my wardrobe and declared, “You can wear this.” I proudly pulled out my kagoul, shielding it so the rip down one side wasn’t visible. I passed it over my bed. “Put it on,” I muttered while rummaging at the wardrobe bottom. Seconds later I emerged, triumphant; waterproof leggings to go with my kagoul!
The more I thought about having coffee, the more logical it seemed. Have a brew, sort out Sivitya’s real story, make sure she booked a taxi – on her tab – with hopefully no further surprises; yet a small voice nagged away: This isn’t what you’re thinking, it’s more than a prank. I packed that one away, along with the rent thing. Time to be practical. I passed her the pants and looked away while she put them on. They were heavily creased but a bit of walking would cure that – and hey, they hid bare flesh.
Important point: leave the credit cards, take just cash; if you haven’t got it you can’t spend it.
“Are you ready?” I asked. My oversized dressing gown lay discarded, replaced by similarly oversized waterproofs and kagoul. “Here, let me zip it up.”
“This is hot,” she protested.
Not as hot as you’ll be if you don’t, I felt like muttering. As I locked the door, it registered at the back of my mind that the Book had disappeared from view. I’d have liked a further look. But it wasn’t mine, was it?
Sivitya: Streets of Lanndern
Did he accept me as door witch to House Batezz or did he not? What was cah-fee, was it drink or food? Evidently of some importance. I nursed the ill-fitting garb lent to me, recognising in his reactions what garb was acceptable here, and what transgressed their taboos.
In truth I was glad to be moving. This place was little better than a lair, the Mr Dond being the very image of a loutish troll. It was well that Akalito had secured the door. Wherever we were going, I hoped it was out. Out in air so fresh you knew it to be petal-blessed. Petals, aye. Long ago I’d been a flower girl, coaxing my charges to grow and bloom, readying them for the mad attentions of honey bees. We all got a chance to serve the waywards. They called themselves adventurers but they were wayward… with life, loot, dungeons, fantastical beasts and of course women. Mostly they were invulnerable, and even when they weren’t they invariably came back from the dead in a freshly reanimated corpse. That part made me queasy but you learn to live with it. They, the waywards, eventually healed. Almost like new. Then there were those like me. We worked for them because the job was interesting. We convinced ourselves that we did it to minimise the harm to Earth Myth but most of us loved the power and the responsibility. So as a door witch to House Batezz I controlled who came in and out. If Akalito was in, which was often, I also fixed his diary, managed loot and slave girls. He didn’t bother so much with the latter – more’s the pity. How can you work out your master’s tastes if they don’t indulge once in a while?
Did he slay them? Not his style. Did he just leave them? That last made me uncomfortable. Slaves came from conquered lands. The vanquished were booty. They had no purpose once their land was taken. For starters, where would they reside? And now it was me who’d been expelled from House Batezz and cast far, far away if I guessed rightly. So here I was in Akalito’s lair, shared with the unfriendly Mr Dond, following him to a cah-fee, in his ridiculous oversized clothes.
We passed the damaged panel, one door then another, a man-made passageway painted white but fading yellow in the pale light. The next was different and I knew it to be the way out. The final door opened and I felt the airs of the world, different to what I knew. Beyond, another man-made passage was lined with stone, but my thoughts circled back to that final door – now that was a place I could defend. Some doors were for privacy, others mere draught excluders, but there were always doors to keep what was outside, out and what lay within, carefully maintained and unsullied by greedy grasping hands.
I sensed power – faint yet still present. The power was life blood for a witch; it kept us from harm and for those properly trained, it could be wielded to some effect. As we emerged from the passageway, I realised the night was alight. Buildings towered over us, filled with glass and light. The ground was paved in flat, pitted black stone with white etchings on them. I stopped. The scale dizzied me and terror bubbled in the pit of my stomach. I had never seen anything like this before in my life and I doubted any I knew could even imagine this place. I tried to steady myself – reach, reach out far and touch the forces I knew – wind, growth, the hidden ways – they were there but distant and also distorted. And the only signs of life were Akalito and me. How could this be Earth Myth?
Akalito knocked my thoughts aside. “Not far to Jimbo’s. Come on. Let’s be on the way, then. We’re not standing about like street litter.”
I pulled myself together and guessed I was in shock. This – everything around me – was normal to Akalito, so it would be normal to me.
I shuffled to follow him, keeping close to the building on my right. Cold night seeped through the rents in my makeshift clothes. I hoped they were a better protection against taboo-breaking.
“Jimbo’s is just a bit further along on the other side of the road.” I followed his gesture – this entire black surface was a road? It was large enough to hold a Royal procession, even a tournament. Suspended lights illuminated its length from on high.
“Right. Cross over.”
He leaned forward and marched determinedly onto the black stone way, straining towards Jimbo’s and his cah-fee. I said nothing and kept pace. Over we went and made for a gap in the buildings, not far ahead. As we came closer it became plain that the black road forked, we bore left. Presently we approached a large illuminated glass window behind which lay tables and stools. A huge glowing sign topped the window – I made out neither the runes nor the word – clearly it was written in the language of Akalito.
He said, “Ahh. Finally. Jimbo’s.”
Without hesitation he strode to a glass panelled door and straight-arming it, went in.
“What are you having?”
“I – I…”
He didn’t wait for answer.
