There was something particularly odd about this summoner, Lior thought. Though the knight had not considered just one thing specifically; he knew oddness even if subtle. He had learned to pick up on the little things that most would consider trivial about a person. Where they look when they speak, how they distribute their body weight while standing, and who they look at when they laugh. Sometimes, Lior fears missing the big picture when focused on the details. Which is why he felt uneasy during his talk with the summoner.
Getting caught was only a mistake, a small margin of error in his otherwise perfect record. With his ripped clothes and dirty skin, no one in the tense crowd paid him any mind. Lior had scooped a hood and cloak from atop the trashcan at the nearby tavern. The locals, likely thinking him to be a beggar, avoided him as he walked the streets.
The same locals were around, the same vendors, the same fruits, the same groups of people. The only thing that occasionally changed were the summoners and heroes around. Lior had heard the term "NPC" before, albeit he never exactly understood what it meant to the full extent. He only started considering it 13 years ago when he noticed the same pattern in every area of the village. The same people would speak and say the same things, the same people would walk around, and the same events and fights would happen unless a summoner directly interfered.
When he was a squire during his late teens, he wondered if that was all he would amount to. Would the otherworlders treat him differently because of this "NPC" status? He wondered what gave them the right to come to his world and judge his people.
———
Lior, age 15. During his time of training and routine, he would stand beside those in knighthood. When he was supposed to be taking notes and learning, he would look at every passing bird or bug while wishing he was out on the frontlines where he'd be free to do things his way.
He was only allowed to touch a sword after the knights had finished their training. Lior would sneak out to go beyond the bordering wall that blocked them from the Wastelands. There, inside the wall, was the only guaranteed safety.
Lior, in the phase where he'd stay up till sunrise and climb trees to throw rocks at the servants, cared not about his own safety. He recklessly climbed over the 10-foot wall, using only trees and sharp rocks and bricks. There were days he would just barely make it over, but more often than not he'd roll over, throw his head back, and laugh about it.
The rest of the boys, aged 14 to 23 in their squire years all followed the rules to a T, while Lior swung his sword at the dead trees and through the pungent air. The grass was nearly nonexistent and bushes had more branches than leaves, but the wind would create an eerie creak every so often that made Lior tremble in either fear or anticipation.
It was on this rather peculiar night, however, that would prove to change Lior's life forever. He snuck out during dinner around 8 in the evening after being lashed out by one of the older knights. His sword had broken in half the day before, hilt and blade apart, so Lior carried the broken pieces with him to the Wastelands. These Wastelands were unique in the way they held the sparse signs of life with trees—although dead, and grass.
During the start of the Blightfall war was when the name "Wastelands" was earned. Soldiers would burn the enemy's belongings and bury the dead, no matter which side they came from. The sun, which was unnaturally dim in other places, seemed to shine greater out there. The long winters of [this world] never touched ground in the Wastelands.
Perhaps what Lior enjoyed most about the land was how it made him feel like he was part of something, or bound to be. When he stood on the ground there, he could feel the cracking energy of the fallen soldiers.
Now, he sat against a leaning tree stump about the size of a chair, dragging the blade across the dry ground. He heard the rubbing of the branches but ignored it this time, only when a single yellow leaf floated down to his arm did he look around.
Lior stood, careful. He gripped the hilt in one hand and held the blade awkwardly by the fuller with his fingers. Perhaps feeling brave, Lior called out.
"Anyone there?" He waited, eyes searching slowly. He stood tall, wanting to appear intimidating and not afraid at all. "I have the training, and I'm not afraid to use my sword," Lior threatened, glad that his voice almost resembled that of a grown man.
"Sword? It's broken, isn't it!" A voice answered cheerfully.
Lior jumped a little, recognizing the voice as a female's. What was a girl doing out here, and possibly alone? The revelation made Lior relax slightly, loosening his grip on the hilt of the sword. Well, it's not like he'd fight a girl.
"Come on out, I won't hurt you," Lior said with a slight smirk.
"That's where you're mistaken. You see, you can't hurt me even if you wanted to." The girl came out from somewhere behind Lior, startling the teen once again.
The girl, with shoulder-length black hair and blue eyes, tilted her head slightly. She leaned in slightly with her hands behind her back as she looked into Lior's wide eyes.
"I didn't know your kind could speak before spoken to," she said.
"What does that mean?!" Lior frowned, growing defensive. The girl just smiled.
"Nothing by it, just sayin' it's unusual for an NPC to do that." She walked around Lior slowly, looking him up and down. Lior followed her movements.
Had the girl come from beyond the Wastelands? Lior wasn't sure where that could be. Her unusual way of speech and jargon made Lior unsure if she was even human. Her clothes were neat and clean, and she wore a brown cape of sorts and high-top boots. She looked to be a year or two younger than him.
"In pee see?" Lior repeated slowly. He turned pink when the girl laughed at him.
"I guess the smarts stay the same," she said. "Name's Wren." Wren stopped in front of him and held out a hand, offering a handshake. Lior just stared, his palms were a little sweaty so he hid them behind his back.
"Lior," he murmured.
"Okay, not much of a toucher I see." Wren patted Lior's shoulder.
"So, what's that thing you called me?" His curiosity was piqued, although he got the feeling this girl would be nothing but trouble.
"An N.P.C. Let's see, how can I explain this…" Wren looked amused about something, considering. "I guess I can say that you aren't real. In a sense."
This girl is crazy. Lior took a step back, looking at Wren suspiciously. "Not real?"
"You seem skeptical, 'course. But it's to be expected." She shrugged and shook her head lightly with a small sigh as if pitying the boy. "You see, you are limited, while I am limitless."
"Nuh-uh. I have as much freedom as you," Lior argued. "I do," he said more so to himself, quietly.
"You don't believe me? How 'bout this? I bet you've never been anywhere outside of this area," Wren motioned toward the towering wall. "I'll bring something back, a souvenir of sorts for ya'. When I do that, you have to believe boundaries don't apply to me."
Boundaries? The use of the word seemed strange, almost deliberately so. Still, Lior had nothing to lose.
"Sure, sure. Go ahead and do that." He waved a dismissive hand.
Lior watched as the girl walked off in the distance towards the moon. She didn't look back not once. Minutes later Lior climbed back up the wall just in time for bed.
The next morning he was absent-minded during his study time. He sat in class spaced out while the other squires discussed the war.
He left early to go to the Wastelands. Lior stared far off, considering. Then, slowly, he attempted to walk past the 4th tree for the first time. He would be able to do that much and maybe more if it weren't for the crushing pressure that surged through his entire being and made him sweat bullets. When he fell to his knees, he tried crawling. It was then, when his vision started to fade, that he realized there was an undeniable force preventing him. Unable to withstand it any longer, Lior slid back behind the 3rd tree where he knew he'd be safe.
Wren's words rang through his head. "...you can't hurt me even if you wanted to," Was it the same 'can't' as him being unable to cross this tree that marked the beginning of the dry terrain? Was it his own inability or one created by the gods? Lior stayed on the ground, trembling.
He waited eight more hours that day in hopes of Wren's return. The next two days he decided he didn't want the girl to return. If it turned out she had gone even further than Lior ever had in his life, then what would that make Lior when he couldn't even bear to walk a few feet past a tree?
On the fifth day, there was a change in the wind. Lior looked up to the sky listlessly. A friend and fellow squire of his nudged his shoulder.
"Even the knights are creeped out by you right now, you know?" His friend, Lucas, grinned. "It looks like you're having an existential crisis," he continued when Lior did not answer.
"Lucas, have you ever wondered what's out there? Beyond the land used for war and Wastelands," Lior asked.
"Uh oh, what's got a troublemaker like you so curious about stuff like that? I guess you have been unusually quiet the past week or so." Noticing Lior's expression, Lucas's smile faded and he looked at Lior strangely.
"Never mind," Lior said just as the Knights finished their first sparring session. Lucas patted Lior's shoulder again and went back to his place in line.
Lior waited until after lunch to go back to the Wastelands. He stayed until the sun started to set, and sighed when he saw no sign of Wren. The girl really was insane. Lior believed he should not have wasted his time, and he would deal with the inexplicable terror he felt when nearing certain areas of the Wastelands someday.
When he turned to leave, he was stopped by a voice carried by the breeze. Lior looked back to see that it was Wren, with a bright smile that lacked the smugness she had displayed that week ago. Her clothes, hair, boots, and skin were all the same and for a moment Lior doubted she even went anywhere that was not her home.
"You came back," said Lior, mildly impressed.
"You remember me," Wren said, even more impressed.
Lior hid his trembling hands behind his back, making sure not to seem too relieved to see her return.
"So, where's the souvenir?"
"Patience." Wren came closer and slowly pulled out a gem of sorts. There were no sharp edges or imperfections, the color was dull and really quite boring. Lior was sure it was just some children's toy and reached out to touch it. Wren pulled it away and hid it in the small shoulder bag she carried.
She waved a finger in front of Lior like he was a bad dog.
"What? It's just a rock." Lior frowned.
"Not just any old rock! It's a gemstone from a mine thooouuusands of miles from here." She huffed and went over to the leaning tree stump, plopping down and patting the spot next to her.
Lior, who had been the only one in this spot for so long, was now being treated like a guest. Still, he sat albeit a foot away from where he was invited.
Wren shrugged and began to rummage through her bag even as Lior stared at her. Perhaps being unable to bear it any longer, she threw a tangerine at him. She spoke after he caught it.
"I think I've figured it out." Wren slowly peeled the tangerine, "You haven't been fully limited yet. Maybe not in the system completely? Is it your age–or maybe the story says it isn't your time just yet," She pondered.
"I think I figured out you're out of your mind long ago." Lior sat the fruit down.
Wren laughed. "You tried it out, didn't you? Tried doing something new. Failed, right?" She hummed when Lior tensed.
"...I tried going past the fourth tree," Lior whispered. "It was like being trapped in quicksand, and I just kept losing strength."
"It happens to me sometimes, too." She tossed a segment of the tangerine in her mouth. She did not elaborate even when Lior asked. After some time, Wren reached into her satchel and took out the gem, which now seemed to glow faintly.
"Do you know what they were fighting for, all those years ago?"
"During the Hollow Star?" Lior watched as Wren carefully turned the gem around.
"The Heart of Aether." Things stilled, stuffing the air even more than before. Wren giggled softly. "Well, this is only a replica. But it's an exact replica! It's really quite cool."
Lior bit his tongue and brought his knees to his chin. A silence settled between them that made Lior squeeze his knee and cringe. He took a breath.
"I want to know more,"
And there were many more things he would learn, things he learned that left him exasperated at his own existence and even more at those who were born more fortunate.
Two years later the [Training Grounds] were attacked, and taken down by the opposing army. Lior, now a brave knight, hid in the crevice created between a shed and the wall. He grew tired from flinching and tensing so much from the slashing and slinging of metal on metal. He murmured prayers as the cries grew, and closed his eyes and covered his ears when Lucas' body fell in his line of sight, eyes open and cold.
—-
"Alright, so I've got this," Nepenthe held up a blue diamond in one hand, "and this." He held up a purple diamond in the other.
[Item information: Common pull x1
Rare pull x1]
Nepenthe tilted his head slightly and felt the plastic-like crystals in his hands. He brought one up to his eye and looked through it skeptically.
"I've never seen anyone summon from up close before," Silvestro glowed, watching intently from the farthest corner.
There would be no summoning if Nepenthe couldn't figure it out. The two stood in a private room that was more of a box with a circular two-step stand. The center had beams that waved like one of those tall balloon things outside of car dealerships in the wind.
Nepenthe pocketed the purple diamond and took a small step toward the summoning stand.
The system pinged, 'Reminder that anything the host pulls will have to be of a darkness attribute.'
Right, not only were there no guarantees of anything good–but there was a high chance Nepenthe wouldn't even be able to use the summon. The game was biased and disliked the villains.
The system had told Nepenthe that he'd "just know" how to do the summon, but that type of stuff had always been foreign to him. He had never gotten the feeling of "just knowing" when people claimed he would. So, he wasn't surprised when his mind blanked as he held out the diamond. The iridescence of the gem was so strong when held in the beam that it reflected off of the white walls.
"What's the point of this system if it won't give me a tutorial…" Nepenthe complained.
'System asks that you please don't blame it for your own incompetence \^^/' the system messaged.
"…"
It must still be upset that Nepenthe let his first official party member leave.
Nepenthe closed his eyes. The thoughts he had been avoiding until now seeped into his brain and soured his mind right down to his jaw which tensed and his throat. Nepenthe swallowed. He had noticed earlier, that things in this world really were too similar to his previous world. There would always be someone in power, conducting your life and tingeing you with a sense of helplessness that would carry on in your veins even after you bleed and bleed and bleed.
[User instability]
A scorching warmth spread from his fingertips to his palms to his chest and down to his toes. A gradual ringing spread throughout the room and the gem shook and flew out of Nepenthe's hand. It spun up and then burst, shimmering.
[Congrats, user [Nepenthe], you have made your first summon!]