Of A Hug and an Egg

John wasn’t sure how long he lay in the void of unconsciousness. Somewhere between a second and an eternity passed as he tried to remember what had happened. A tense anxiousness settled on him as he recalled the chase, the crash, and the fight that had come after. They’d made it out, right? He was pretty sure they had. At least the darkness was devoid of pain; that much he could be thankful for.

Memories returned over the next few moments. The strange phone issues in the morning, their sudden capture, and the battle at Ashcroft. The battle… the sights and sounds of the fight were forever etched into his mind, even now. The dying screams of the barrier mage echoed throughout the void. The man had been nobody to him - he didn’t even know his name - yet he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to close his eyes again without seeing his face as he’d killed him.

A thousand questions assaulted his weakened consciousness. How could he have done it? Could he not have? Did he really have any choice?

A chill ran down his soul - a single, slimy drop of pain and guilt and horror.

John wasn’t sure he’d ever really move on, but his mind drifted forward regardless, pieces of their final confrontation floating to the surface. The struggle against the Firebard had ended in his favor - right? He’d freed the phoenix, then the knights had arrived, but he couldn’t recall anything after that.

He supposed he wouldn’t be worrying about what had happened if he’d died, so he was probably remembering right. Allowing the sea of memories to wash over him one final time, he reached the moment he’d most needed to find. Ela and Moira had made it. He’d turned back and seen them. No matter what he felt about what he’d done, as long as they were OK, he wasn’t sure it could ever truly be regret.

Slowly, he tried to reach out and gather his senses, swimming out of the quagmire he was in. Most of them seemed to be there, but he had a hard time making anything of them. He lay in nebulous nothingness for another minute before, gently, he started to push himself, forcing his spirit to flow back down through the cracks into his body.

“Ugh… oh,” John groaned as the conscious world rushed to meet him once more.

Heartbeats echoed in his ears as he clenched his eyes closed. An odd sense of vertigo rolled over him, though it passed quickly. He was lying on something soft. That was good. Soft meant that he definitely wasn’t still on the ground inside the barrier. Nothing hurt either.

’Two for two so far…’ he thought, gathering his will before cracking his eyes open.

The stark white lights of the room were overwhelming, forcing The Gamer back into his shell for a moment as splotches of color danced across his vision. Once he’d taken a little more time to acclimate, John tried again, managing to get his eyes open enough to see where he was. It seemed like some kind of hospital room, as far as he could tell, with only a sparse decoration of sterile, plain looking furniture. He was laid out on a fancy motorized bed that he was sure could have helped him sit up if he knew how to use it.

Rolling his head around, John confirmed that he was alone. As he stared at a pair of bright, rosy red curtains, looking out over an afternoon sun, he guessed that he must have made it back to Brighton Manor at some point.

’Or rather, someone else got me back here.’

Steeling himself, he slowly pushed up to a sitting position. He was pleasantly surprised to find his strength returning as the fog began to pass from his mind. The work of [Gamer’s Body], no doubt. Idly, he noted that his scrap armor had been removed at some point, leaving him in the long sleeve shirt and jeans he’d worn underneath.

His body ached, exhaustion permeating through every bone and muscle fiber. He really wanted to go back to sleep, but his mind was as awake as his body was worn out. ’Everything seems OK enough, I think…’

Something caught his attention. A gentle heat was growing from somewhere within him. Panic was his first reaction, but he quickly realized that the feeling was staying stable at a “pleasant warmth” rather than a “something is wrong immediately.” He coughed, trying to fight off the dryness in this throat as he looked over his UI for the source of the fire.

The Gamer’s health and mana bars were happily full, with no indication of anything amiss. Even without accepting any of the dozen waiting notifications, his character sheet indicated he’d leveled up twice, which he was quite excited about. He sighed, putting aside his rewards and scrolling through his screens to try and find whatever was heating him up.

It wasn’t until he reached his inventory that he remembered one important detail from right before he’d passed out. After the phoenix had burst into flame for the final time, it had left behind a single ash-laden feather, though there was no sign of it now. Instead, one of his inventory slots was simply a glowing ball of brilliant orange radiance.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the source of the warmth now. John tried to draw the ball into his hands, as he normally would, but whatever it was decided to pop out in front of him instead. Vibrant oranges and lustrous reds danced across a sphere of pure light, which gently bobbed up and down in the air. Great peels of color seemed to flash beneath the surface, as if the sun itself boiled within.

As he looked closer, he realized it was somewhat oblong, with streaks of red and yellow rolling around it lengthwise. ’Is this… an egg?’

He sat for a moment, transfixed by the colors, but eventually he remembered to use [Observe].

’What’s up with this thing?’

A regal voice echoed a sassy retort in his mind.

What, have you never read a myth about phoenixes before? Never heard a story?’

’Oh, hey. I was wondering where you were all morning,’ he thought back at the voice in his head. ’I’ve heard of phoenixes before, uh, but I always thought they just, like, I dunno, popped back out in full form or something.’

Only extremely powerful phoenixes can maintain their strength when reforming. Considering the trauma of this one’s previous life and ****, I’d be happy that it reformed at all. It may not have any of its memories or abilities once it hatches.

John looked upon the egg, thinking over the torturous manner in which the poor creature had been bound. He’d watched it writhe in agony as a crystal, stabbed through its heart, had nearly shocked it to **** trying to **** it to defend a master that was already dead. He couldn’t imagine how it had lived for so long like that, or who could have been willing to do that to it.

’Honestly, I think it’s better if it didn’t have to remember anything,’ he thought, somberly. ’Maybe if it wants to stick around, I can try to give it some better memories this time.’

He sat for a moment of silence, pondering that statement. Thinking about it, he realized that he had no idea how to actually raise or care for a mythical creature like that. Almost certainly the Order would have some information on that. Perhaps they’d be willing to help. Reaching a hand out, he placed it on the egg, basking in its warmth.

He’d been unable to save the phoenix in one life, but he had a chance to try again in the next. That was something.

’So… where have you been all morning? I was getting lonely,’ he half-joked, storing the brilliant orb away again. ’I’ve gotten kinda used to you being around.’

I’m touched. Unfortunately, I hate to break it to you, but I'm kind of everywhere, normally, so I was here the whole time.

The still-exhausted nerd leaned back on the bed, furrowing his brows. That didn't make a lot of sense to him. 'Not sure I get what you mean… Just didn’t feel like saying anything that whole time, then?'

Contrary to what you may believe, I do have other things to do besides mess with you.

“I… dunno. I didn’t mean… ugh,” John gasped, raising his hands defensively. He sighed. “It’s been a really long morning.”

Hmm…

John felt something shift inside his mind. The voice that spoke next was different from the one he’d been accustomed to. This one was softer, yet stronger - more protective and less regal.

I think it was good that I did not say anything. I may have given you these powers, but the strength you found to use them was yours alone.

In spite of the confusion he felt at the sudden shift in the voice, The Gamer did feel some resonance with those words. Perhaps there was pride to be taken in his success, even if it was only to be one of many conflicting feelings he had. For whatever else had transpired, he had found the resolve to fight and win.

A click by the door stopped that train of thought before it could go much farther.

John turned his head to find the old man that Moira and her father had called upon yesterday entering the room. He’d changed pieces of his suit, but the well-worn overcoat he wore was very distinctive. The old, grandfatherly man was some sort of sage or seer, if he remembered correctly, though he couldn’t recall his name or title - corn something, perhaps?

’Yeah, just call him “corn man” and see how that goes.’ In lieu of anything of the sort, The Gamer simply raised his hand, waving shyly. “Uh, hi. I’m up.”

The man offered a remarkably warm smile. There was something behind the elder man’s eyes that John didn’t recognize from yesterday - was it curiosity, maybe? The man seemed visibly relieved as he looked over The Gamer’s condition.

“Ah, it’s good that you’re finally awake,” the old sage began. “One of the nurses reported a small surge of mana coming from this room.”

The young alchemist scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah… that was probably me poking around at some things when I woke up.”

“Of course. From what I have heard, your innate ability can be quite spontaneous. How are you feeling?”

“Uh… I think I’m ok,” he answered, looking himself over again. “I’m tired, but I don’t think I’m injured at all.”

“Excellent. The young Warden will be most pleased to hear that.”

“Moira… How is she doing? How is Ela?” John couldn’t contain his questions at the mention of the woman he’d fought alongside earlier. “Did they make it back all right?”

The sage nodded his head appreciatively at the younger man’s concern, creasing his face with a deeper smile. “Both are doing well. Last I heard, they were both with Lord Brighton in his office. If you would allow myself or the nurses to check you over for any hidden injuries, we can go to join them.”

“That would be nice.” The Gamer smiled. “I’d… really like to see them.”

It took only a few minutes for the Order’s medical staff to check John over again. Thankfully, magic allowed the checkups to come down to little more than scanning him over with certain spells. Once they’d finished, he’d quickly thanked them for the care and followed the elder sage (Cornelius was his name!) back across the manor.

The hallways were still endlessly identical to him, but he trusted that they weren’t just walking in circles.

The Gamer felt a little strange walking around with all his notifications still built up, but his desire to hurry to his friends far outweighed that. He didn’t want to stall while he tabbed through a dozen screens. Stomach rolling lightly with anxiety and anticipation, part of him did debate throwing a couple of his waiting stat points into endurance or charisma before he met Lord Brighton again.

“The Lord-Protector’s office is just up these stairs, to the left,” Cornelius said, opening a door in front of them. “We are almost there.”

The Gamer nodded, following the man up and through a heavy set of doors. The pair continued out of the stairwell into a much longer, more decorated hallway. On the one side, he recognized the portraits of the Wardens, which continued off around the corner towards their destination. When they were about halfway to the turn, a set of side doors on the far side of the hall opened.

John’s heart stopped.

Ela Grzmot and Moira Brighton walked into the hall. They were having a soft, friendly conversation, each carrying a pair of bags. The blonde had changed from the tatters of her Ashcroft uniform into her bodysuit, though she’d left the bone plates off and put a jacket on overtop. The redhead had similarly switched into a more comfortable set of training clothes.

Unconsciously, John found himself sprinting across the hall. ’They’re OK…’

The Warden and Bookworm Knight turned towards his footsteps catching sight of him just as he reached them. Both smiled, relief plain on their faces. The Gamer paused for a moment, trailing bits of higher function screaming about things like “shame” and “embarrassment” and “anxiety.”

Without a care in the world, The Gamer threw his arms around the pair of them, tears welling up in his eyes. He held them tight, as if they were all that mattered in the world. He choked back a sob, leaning down to press his cheek into Ela’s shoulder, pulling the two of them against him.

“You’re OK…” he muttered shakily. “We’re… we’re all alive…”

Ela set her bag down so she could return his hug. “Yes. We are fine. I am glad that you are awake.”

Her voice was the most beautiful music he’d ever heard.

For her part, Moira’s cheeks were slowly approaching the same color as her hair. She could count on one hand the list of people that had ever held her like this, and half of them had only been while she was a child. Her first reaction was to push him away, to get flustered and angry, but the redhead couldn’t bring herself to gather those feelings right now.

As Warden, she’d heard many knights state their willingness to protect her, to give their lives, if need be, but something was different in the way John had made his stand in front of her. John hadn’t even heard of the Order until Monday. Her title probably meant almost nothing to him. Why would he have cared to risk his life in return for hers?

Perhaps, simply, there was a spark of noble courage inside him.

That alone would have been worth admiration and merit, but another thought had crept into her mind between then and now. A dozen strange, unusual emotions rolled over her - ones she wasn’t used to. Her blush deepened as she thought back to the question he’d asked the previous day.

Perhaps… he wasn’t happy that the Shield Warden had survived, but happy that Moira Brighton had survived. Now, her blush was even brighter than her fiery mane.

Swallowing her own pride, she joined Ela in returning the hug.

“We are OK, in no small part because of you,” she said, unable to maintain her normally calm and even demeanor.

Cornelius allowed the trio a minute to stay like that, untold emotion flowing between them as they processed their shared experience. The old sage smiled, but eventually cleared his throat, breaking their reverie. John stayed within an arm’s length of his companions, but his shame and embarrassment had finally begun to catch up with the rest of his feelings.

“I do apologize, but the Lord-Protector must be waiting for us,” he said as the three separated. “I am surprised to see you, Warden. I didn’t think your father would let you out of his sight.”

Moira returned the elderly man’s soft smile, doing her best to push the color out of her cheeks. “I convinced him that I needed to walk around for a minute, so Ela and I went to retrieve the equipment that the knights recovered from the barriers today.”

“Speaking of,” Ela interjected, picking up the bag she’d set down and offering it to him. “These are yours, John. The knights were able to find your staff, as well as the sword and shield I dropped back at Ashcroft. The medics removed your armor while checking you over initially, and it should also be in here.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. Thanks. I’ll, uh, have to try and thank them at some point, too,” he said. He’d almost forgotten about all the equipment that they’d dropped in their flight. Checking things over, all seemed to be accounted for, from his staff and [Lesser Air Burst] to his armor.

’Except…’ He realized that he’d never found the [Blood Transmutation] gem. It wasn’t in his inventory, nor was it among the things returned to him. ’Was it lost or do they still have it? I suppose I wouldn’t be surprised if an order of paladins isn’t thrilled to return a blood magic skill.’

“Come on now,” Cornelius said, interrupting John’s internal questioning. “We should not keep Lord Brighton waiting.”

The Gamer nodded, deciding that the man in question would be the one with the answers, if he could find the courage to ask about it. With that, the four turned together, and headed into the Lord-Protector’s office.