I’m lucky that one of the perks of being royalty, and living in a palace, means having personal NPC maids. They capture me the moment I step into my chambers. Maids were programmed by Liana herself to make their master presentable and they don’t rest until the task is finished. They eagerly undress me almost at the doorstep when they see the rags I have on.

Then a bath and meticulous scrubbing of my muddy wings. To be honest, I’m thankful for that part. Having wings dirty for longer than a few minutes gives Celestials an unpleasant itchy feeling.

“Can I choose my attire?” I ask the maids when they finish drying my feathers and hair. Only battle gear can be equipped immediately from the inventory.

“No, Your Highness, Her Eminence Liana has already chosen for you,” one of the maids answers with a pre-prepared dialogue option.

“As expected,” I murmur.

Liana is an utter perfectionist and considers me to be a part of her arrangement.

“Isn’t that enough?” I complain and inspect myself in the mirror.

The royal garment is overkill however you look at it. A long ornamental robe with many layers of cloth makes me look like some kind of princess even if it isn’t technically a dress. Well, my avatar isn’t exactly masculine, just like me in real life, and Celestial males generally can’t have overly muscular builds because we have to be light for flying. But still.

“You look stunning, Your Highness,” a maid compliments me. Can one be glad about a compliment from an NPC? Can their artificial intelligence even analyze appearance properly?

“And your hair is done,” another maid announces. “Please, don’t make yourself that dirty again, it was a chore to wash out all that mud.”

At least my hairstyle isn’t a total disaster; they took advantage of my avatar’s long hair and created a samurai-ish high braid. I suspect that it isn’t historical at all, probably came from some old videogame about samurai warriors, but it looks cool.

I step outside my chamber and the NPC guards automatically follow me and don’t leave until I reach the main reception hall.

“Good, white again,” Liana evaluates me immediately when I show up. “You look presentable enough. Be a good sovereign and act according to the role-play, will you? Newly appointed seraphs worked hard to earn that rank and want their ceremony to be a cinematic experience.”

“Got it,” I nod obediently. “You know I wouldn’t ruin events that are being recorded and streamed. It’s my livelihood, after all.”

Liana pokes me as a reminder that it’s against the code of virtual conduct to talk about real life here; especially during role-play events. But she gets it.

Heavenly fanfares start to play and the event begins. I try to act serious and collected; antagonising Liana is never a good idea. Still, it’s hard not to giggle when I’m being presented as His Godly Emperor Aefener.

There are only two new seraphs today since getting the highest rank is very difficult and usually takes several years depending on how much time one devotes to playing. In addition, not all players aim for the top, most just want to enjoy some leisure time in virtual reality.

I have administrative rights from the developers to promote players of my race to the highest rank possible if they meet certain criteria. And so I do. I touch both of them, perform a prescribed hand gesture recognised by the system and official seraph symbols appear on the back of their left hands. Done, easy business, if it wasn’t for all the theatrics.

A reception follows. The food is tasty but it only stimulates certain parts of one’s brain; it doesn’t really fill my stomach.

“Here, you deserve it,” Liana brings me one of those delicious looking Heavenly Lemon Cakes that were promised.

I dig in and enjoy the warm feeling this special cake produces. It was originally designed as superior buffing food a Celestial was supposed to eat before difficult battles but ingredients are so hard to collect that it’s now more of a luxury item.

“I made it myself,” Liana murmurs and if her avatar could blush, she probably would. She made sure nobody’s looking at us, of course. She relaxes only when we’re alone.

“Thanks, Li, you’re an excellent cook,” I cherish every bite.

“Only if it was so simple in the real world,” she suddenly looks sad. “I don’t have time for cooking.”

I don’t say anything. Liana almost never speaks about her real life and when she does, it’s so super rare that I gobble every word. I guess she needs her virtual escape as much as me.

One of new seraphs appointed today approaches us when I finish eating my cake as if he was waiting for the right opportunity. He probably was.

“Your Highness, my name is Gotrid,” he introduces himself and looks at me with a friendly grin. His avatar is quite muscular for a Celestial but he’s still slim. The game doesn’t allow players to create bodies that wouldn’t match a chosen race.

“Sure, I remember,” I nod. When bestowing new ranks, I have to read that person’s nickname aloud during the ceremony after all.

“Coping well?” Liana asks. “Entering the royal service is a huge game changer for players.”

“You can be a seraph without royal affinity,” I remind him just to be sure he’s clear on that.

Being part of the royal business is a great privilege but it goes with certain obligations like compulsory role-playing during official events and participating in specific raids. And everything is being streamed and recorded. Not many players have the time, vigour and patience for that.

“I’ve always wanted to be a part of all that,” he says with confidence. “But thank you for the concern, Your Highness, I’m honoured.”

And then he does something really embarrassing. The leans on one knee in a bow, takes my right hand and kisses it. I don’t turn red only because the VR helmet doesn’t recognise such delicate emotions for projecting.

“T-The s-streaming has e-ended, you know,” I mumble and jerk my hand away. People around me laugh.

“When ingame, I role-play,” he shrugs and looks at me dreamily.

Gay, he’s definitely gay. Since I present my virtual avatar as openly homosexual, from time to time my fans are asking me out and hit on me when they meet me. I always politely decline. It’s mostly only mildly bothersome but no one has ever been as bold as Gotrid.  

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Your Highness…”

I whine in annoyance. “Don’t call me that outside official events. It’s weird!”

He’s teasing me! I can tell by his mischievous look.

Liana looks amused by our newest palace member. She must have interviewed him before, I have no doubt, it’s standard procedure. The royal palace is basically just an elite leading guild. And she fancies people like him who take hardcore gaming deadly serious.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he repeats stubbornly, “and forgive me if I’m too curious, Your Highness, but… well, is it true that your VR compatibility level is 100%?”

“Where did you hear that?” I frown.

I peripherally catch that Liana is looking quite guiltily sideways. Li, you traitor!

“Well, yeah,” I say after a short consideration with a deliberately indifferent tone. “So what?”

“So what!” Gotrid gasps. “That’s unbelievable!”

He finally forgets his formal rhetoric when excited.

“Liana has 95%,” I try to distract him, pointing at my viceroy who’s pretending to be choosing one of the delicious-looking canapés. “And other race rulers are also over 90.”

“But nobody exceeds 96. I mean, anyone except you,” he’s not letting it go. “How it is? How real is the game for you?”

I’m saved by an automatic system warning.

ALERT: TIME TO SLEEP

Gotrid looks fairly disappointed. It’s evident he’d like to stay longer but he sighs that he has work next morning.

“See you tomorrow, Your Highness,” he winks at me before his avatar disappears.

Everyone starts to log off.

“Thanks for the event, it was nice.”

“Good night!”

“See you tomorrow!”

“Sorry, I can’t log in for two days. I’ll be at in the countryside and internet connection there isn’t fast enough for VR.”

Liana says goodbye to our guild members and then approaches me again when most people go offline.

“You did well,” she says, praising me. “You know what… I think I’d love to form a party. I didn’t have a chance to go on a raid for three weeks because of that new story update. I deserve to have some fun.”

“You’d help me with the Forgotten Cave?” I smile. But I was half-expecting that.

Liana is indeed a workaholic when it comes to ruling our race but she’s still a hardcore player who simply enjoys the game.

“I would, but with a proper party,” she emphasises. “I’m thinking of bringing Gotrid to better assess his abilities. It’s also a great way for you to get to know him because I’ve appointed him as your personal adjutant.”

“An adjutant?” I frown. “I don’t need an adjutant.”

Although… I guess I wouldn’t mind looking at Gotrid’s avatar again. He was a bit too assertive but the flirt was playful. Too bad I can’t read Gotrid’s true intentions here but he seemed like an honest straight-forward guy. The type I enjoy being with. Little bit like Erik. And there’s no harm in flirting in the game. It’s not like we’re going to meet in the real world.

“Yes, you do… the latest story update in just two weeks!” she sings, annoyed that she has to keep reminding me. “He’ll make sure you stay in the palace and work. Tomorrow we’ll have some fun in the dungeon and then…”

“Okay, okay,” I wave my hand. “But I want to choose our tank.”

 “You have someone in mind?” she tilts her head. “Cross-species party with a race ruler in it should be approved by the Council, you know that. Game balance.”

Liana is all about game balance.

“Not if it’s my old friend who won’t babble about it,” I persuade her. “And I won’t stream it, promise.”

“You mean Fefnir,” she deducts. “Okay, I have no problem with that, he can be trusted. If it’s our private business, no need to spoil it with bureaucratic procedures.”

“See you tomorrow at, let’s say, six? Fefnir is offline right now,” I find out after briefly checking my friends list, “but I’ll send him an invitation anyway even if he can’t make it.”

We’d be fine with an all-Celestial party if it’s seraphs but I just really like having a reliable tank. It makes casting long complex spells much easier.

“Got it,” Liana nods. “Good night, Aefener.”

“Good night, Liana.”  

DRACONIA ONLINE SERVICE

LOG OFF COMPLETE

I take off my VR helmet and yawn.

When full-diving into the virtual reality, the body rests but the brain still continues working so it’s not proper sleep. The research discovered that you can cut sleep by 50% if you spend the rest of the night in VR but no more than that or you’re in for some serious neurological problems.

I pulled several VR all-nighters years ago when I started gaming professionally but I soon found out it simply isn’t worth it. I couldn’t focus at school, I felt groggy all day and once I almost ended up being run over by a car because I didn’t notice the traffic light turned red. Even though I still spend much more hours in VR than is recommended, I don’t pull all-nighters anymore.

My irritated stomach calmed down when I was ingame but I can tell it’s been hurting. Nothing too serious, though, or the system would have logged me off automatically.  

My poor back feels even sorer than before. Should I maybe invest in a better mattress? I scratch it and sigh. My back always feels strangely bare immediately after I exit the game. I just miss my wings.

I yawn again. Okay, time to sleep for real.