The first thing Amelia noticed upon waking was the lack of pain. She had become so used to either the rotting ache of her disease or the sharp pain of needles that she had forgotten what it felt like to not be in some form of agony.

Her body felt floaty and warm and her mind, normally racked with exhaustion and headaches, felt clear and rested. Feeling herself smile, Amelia set about trying to memorise these feelings she had long forgotten.

After a few moments, she decided to risk flexing a few toes and was delighted to find that this didn’t cause the usual shooting pains. She moved a leg, then an arm, and then, deciding to risk it all, did something she hadn’t been able to do in years.

“Mmmh!”

She stretched like a cat, feeling satisfaction reverberate through her body.

Surely she had died and this was heaven!?

Although, she was definitely lying on a hard wooden floor, and that didn’t seem very heaven-like at all! Not that she was complaining; compared to her years in the hospital, a floor like this was a welcome change of pace.

Even so, she thought, I should probably open my eyes and see where I am.

A wooden ceiling looked back at her, striated with dark beams. Amelia sat up and found she was in some kind of office or study. The walls were covered with bookcases, cabinets, and tables. Where the walls were not covered in furniture, they were plastered with paintings. One side even sported the mounted head of a moose. Centred in the room, in front of her, were an ornate desk and leather chair flanked by two large windows. Behind her was a pair of double doors.

Using the desk to steady her, Amelia slowly stood up. Amazingly, she still wasn’t in pain. Her knees didn’t feel like they would collapse under her own weight. They seemed…strong!

“I’m standing up!” she exclaimed to herself, and the world.

She took a few steps back and forth and then a few more. The feeling of not being weak was intoxicating. She even did a few jumps, her blond hair rising and falling in waves.

Wait, her blond hair?

Amelia grabbed her hair and examined it. It was definitely blonde, practically golden! How had this happened? She was certain it wasn’t dyed, so then how did her hair change colour? Amelia’s hair was supposed to be mousy brown, not this lustrous, shining gold.

She looked over the rest of her body, feeling herself frown. She wore a simple grey top and shorts that hung loosely, leaving her midriff and legs rather bare. These clothes were definitely not the usual hospital clothing she’d grown so used to!

Who was responsible for not only taking away her pain but also changing both her hair and her clothes? Amelia looked around, her eyes settling on a painted portrait of a young woman. The painted lady appeared noble; she wore a white and gold uniform and had the same golden hair Amelia did. The refined depiction had eyes that were a brilliant blue and, on the woman’s forehead, two small, neat horns sat.

Weird, but they do look cool, Amelia thought. Wait! Do I…?

Her hands snapped to her forehead.

Ah, what a shame!

While she didn’t have horns, the weirdness didn’t end there. Continuing to examine herself, Amelia found that her pale feet, with all their ten cute toes, were definitely not hers. Amelia had spent countless hours looking at her toes at the end of the hospital bed and these were not her toes. Looking at her hands, she came to the same conclusion.

These were not her fingers.

This was not her body!

She found a mirror hung by the stuffed moose head. She raced to it and stared at her reflection, not quite believing what she was looking at.

Golden hair. Blue eyes. No horns.

And a face that only a fool would deny was unbelievably adorable and cute!

There was no doubt! This was the body of Amelia Thornheart, the character she had spent years leveling in the hospital!

But…why was she in her game character’s human form!? Her character was supposed to be a demonic combat mage with horns and black wings! That’s how Amelia had played her for years!

Ah.

Amelia remembered the last time she logged in. She’d participated in a guild social event where they all took polymorph potions to change their form. To make things even more amusing, they undertook combat roles vastly different from their usual ones for that night’s PvE event.

So, Amelia Thornheart, the demon mage of destruction and terror, was instead played as an adorable blond human healer! But why was she in the body of her game character? Was she still logged into the game world?

No, Amelia thought. I’m not.

Somehow, she knew on an instinctive level this wasn’t a game world, dream world, or any kind of neurolink-enhanced simulated reality. This was the real world, with everything as corporeal and sensational as it should be.

Did that mean some divine power had recreated the game's world in some pocket of the universe, or did this world always exist, and the game was made to replicate it for entertainment purposes?

More importantly, if her body had been changed to that of her polymorphed game character, then did that mean…?

“Status,” Amelia muttered, a glimmer of hope rising in her mind.

Nothing. There was no floating game screen. Amelia tried a number of other phrases to the same disappointing effect. She even tried to will her character screen into existence to no avail. She supposed it did make sense. If this was the real world, and she was certain it was, then she wouldn’t have access to her status screen.

What a shame. She’d hoped to be able to access her in-game subspace inventory. Unfortunately, it seemed that the entity that had given her a new body hadn’t replicated the overpowered end-game armour and weapons she’d spent hundreds of hours grinding for.

Not that she was complaining. Whoever her mysterious creator was, they’d already given her the most valuable thing of all!

A healthy body.

Amelia patted that very same healthy body, giggling to herself as she experimented with tensing her muscles and enjoying the sensation of strength. As she explored her new body’s capabilities, a part of her mind became aware of something else that seemed to align with the game she played. She could sense an ethereal substance that floated within her in massive quantities.

Similar to how she instinctively knew this world was real, she also somehow knew exactly what the mysterious substance was.

Aether.

In the game, it was the primary resource for most magic disciplines. As a combat mage, Amelia had spent an enormous amount of time completing quests and hunting titles to maximise her aether capacity and regeneration. After all, she needed all that aether to cast her titanic combat spells. Her obsession with aether had earned her the nickname ‘Aether Addict’ amongst her guildmates.

So she had aether, but could she cast magic?

Canonically, magic was cast in-game by speaking the incantation. However, Amelia had grown used to casting magic by thinking of the spell name. She’d been thankful for the game developers for putting that feature in, for she was often too exhausted from her disease to talk. Could she do the same here?

Well, as she always said, nothing ventured, nothing gained!

First-Circle, Ward of Thew, she said in her mind, willing the magic to manifest. Amazingly, she felt her aether tremble. It had definitely responded to her thoughts! Steeling her mind, Amelia tried again.

First-Circle, Ward of Thew.

Suddenly, she felt an exhilarating rush as her aether twisted and turned inside her, moving itself into the required structure and then activating. As the wardspell manifested, Amelia felt stronger and full of vigour. She felt powerful. She felt like she could stop a blade with her bare hands! Her skin took on a golden glow, matching what she remembered from the game.

That golden glow bathed the room in yellow light. That wouldn’t do! Amelia could hardly explore this new world while glowing like a lighthouse. She needed to do something about this!

Luckily, she knew the exact spell she needed.

Third-Circle, Cloak of Secrecy.

The cloaking spell activated, hiding the characteristic golden glow of Ward of Thew. She let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for that!

Now that she had some defence, Amelia felt confident enough to explore. Approaching the windows, she noticed they were thick. Perhaps six inches or more! She peered out and was met with nothing but a blue sky far above and clouds below.

Was this building on a mountaintop?

She turned her attention to the desk. Upon it lay a large map that seemed to be of an archipelago. Numerous locations had been labeled and the owner of this office had pinned notes to different locations. Amelia peered closer to read some of them.

Yup, she couldn’t read this!

It certainly wasn’t English, nor did it look like any of the scripts found in the game…

“What language is this?” Amelia pondered aloud.

“That would be High Imperial, little one,” a coarse masculine voice intoned, causing Amelia to jump and hit her head on the ceiling! As she fell back down, Amelia realised her body wasn’t used to the extra strength the now-cloaked Ward of Thew gave her.

“Who's there!? Show yourself, intruder,” Amelia shouted. “I have hands, and I’m not afraid to use them!” She held out her hands like a boxer while frantically scanning the room for the hidden speaker.

“Ah…hahaha!” the hidden man laughed. “I’m the intruder? What a strange human you are to accuse me of the crime you’re guilty of! Yes, yes...Over here. No, no…to your right, by the mirror, little one.” Amelia followed the voice until her eyes settled on the source.

“A talking moose!” she blurted out, looking at the stuffed moose head.

“I am not a talking moose!” the talking moose exclaimed. “I am…Anathor! The guardian of this ship and adviser to its captain. I—”

“We’re on a ship?” Amelia interrupted. She darted back to the window, peering through the thick glass. “Then why can’t I see the sea? Where’s the water?”

“Hrmph,” Anathor grumbled. “I said we're on a ship, little one…the Vengeance! A mighty military vessel feared for leagues around! This is no mere watership for harvesting salt! What use would there be of putting a warship on water when we have the skies?”

“We’re flying? I’m on a flying ship?” Amelia bounced back to Anathor.

“Flying? Fish fly. We’re sailing.” Anathor paused before quickly adding, “We forget ourselves. The topic of this conversation is you. Who are you, little human, and what are you doing in the captain's quarters?”

Anathor’s glassy eyes took on a red tinge that Amelia supposed was meant to be threatening. Surprisingly, she found herself completely calm. It was a weird feeling, considering the situation. She supposed she should be frightened or otherwise intimidated, but somehow, she found herself lacking any feelings of anxiety.

Instead, she felt excited. Whether it was the giddiness of her pain-free body or the thrill of using magic, something in Amelia told her that if she kept being positive, everything would work out.

Furthermore, Amelia had a certain feeling that Anathor wouldn’t harm her, and even if he tried, she was confident she wouldn’t be harmed, owing to her Ward of Thew. It was a strange sensation to be able to instinctively determine the relative strength of Anathor and her magical defence. Had she inherited not just her game character’s body but also its stats as well?

In the game, the higher a character's perception stat was, the more capable they were of determining what can and cannot harm them and the general nature of another creature. As a max-level combat mage, Amelia Thornheart had tremendous base stats, boosted by months of achievement grinding. It seemed that enhanced perception was now part of Amelia’s new body.

She just knew that Anathor was someone of good character and not dangerous.

At least, not dangerous to her.

Collecting her thoughts, she answered Anathor’s question.

“I’m Amelia. Pleased to meet you, Mr Anathor,” she chirped, giving a polite bow and flashing the red-eyed moose what she hoped was a charismatic smile. Her mind was racing, trying to think of how to approach Anathor’s second question. What was she doing in the captain’s quarters? It wasn’t as if she could explain that she was a virtual avatar that some great power had somehow created in the real world and moved her soul into.

That didn’t mean Amelia had to lie. Amelia hated lying.

But she could also rephrase the truth.

“As for why I’m here…” Amelia began. “After a long battle with a painful disease, I was finally cured of it. But somehow the cure has magically transported me to this location unknown. I really didn’t mean to come here. It was an accident, I promise,” Amelia swallowed before continuing. “To be honest, I don’t know what the future holds for me, but after being bedridden for so long, I want to travel and explore the world.”

As she spoke, a sudden idea flashed in her mind. After all, this was her game character, and she knew she could cast Ward of Thew. That spell was from the divine healing branch of Aseco, and while her true magical talents lay in ridiculously overcharged combat magic, it wasn’t like she wanted to go around destroying everything. Anathor did say this was a military vessel, after all. Wouldn’t her healing magic be valuable to its captain?

Wouldn’t she be able to explore this world by just staying here? She could at least learn about the world before deciding whether to escape! Amelia nodded to herself reassuringly. She opened her mouth and said, “I have some talent in magic healing. If this is a military vessel, perhaps your captain would allow me to offer my services?”

Anathor was silent for a full minute.

“Hmm….”

“Mr Anathor?”

“What a strange human you are. Your personality…reminds me of…” Anathor grumbled something indecipherable before announcing, “Nevertheless, you may explain yourself to the captain.”

“The captain?” Amelia question. “Uh, sure. Where is he?”

“She is here now. Be warned…she can be a little…angry.”