“That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”

Friedrich Nietzsche, German Philosopher (1844 – 1900)

They rested under a copse of maple trees, their leaves gently rustling in the afternoon breeze. A slow creek flowed by the trees as it lazily weaved its way across the flat prairies, its babble low and constant. The banks were covered with reeds and cattails, where blackbirds, warblers, and wrens flitted about and filled the air with their songs. In the distance, a light rain fell, promising relief to the dusty wildflower fields.

The Castle of Glass had vanished behind rolling hills ten minutes ago. Its absence gave Milly a touch of anxiety, as if they had lost sight of the last spit of land in the midst of a churning ocean. Endless prairie stretched out before them, framed only by the foothills of the mountains to the north.

Shaded from the afternoon sun, she peeled off her socks and shoes and dipped her feet into the creek’s cool waters. Her feet were sore from walking through endless grasslands, and she sighed in relief as she submerged them above her ankle.

She lifted her shoes to eye-level, inspecting the sole that was coming unglued.

How much longer do they have left? A day, maybe two? How many people are in the same situation I am? Calista wears high heels every day. How’s she going to get around? Shit, if we're stuck here, she’s going to want her deodorant back, isn't she? Why the hell did she give it to me in the first place?

Milly pulled her left foot out of the stream and ran her finger across the blister that had formed on her ankle, hissing as she made contact. She wrapped her hands around her ankle and focused on the blister. Her magic had partially refilled over the past hour, and though she didn’t want to completely drain herself again, she had enough magic for this.

Her palms glowed blue with her healing as she probed the blister and weaved the magic over the skin. She reveled in its cool relief as the magic soaked up her pain like a sponge.

“I could use more talents like this,” she purred, eyes closed as she enjoyed the numbing sensation. “It feels so good.”

“A healer is always an advisable addition to any party,” Xavier commented, watching a muskrat sunbathing on a rock at the edge of the creek. His finger twitched on the hilt of his sword. “Do you think I’d get experience if I killed that muskrat?”

The muskrat glanced up at Xavier and sniffed the air. Deciding the strange creatures were no threat, it laid its head back down and continued its nap.

“That cheeky little rodent,” he said, perturbed. “It’s making fun of me.”

“Leave it alone Xavier,” Milly chuckled. “You’ll get your first level without having to harm any cheeky wildlife.”

Xavier threw a stone at the muskrat, and it dove into the water. 

Milly sighed at her friend’s impatience. She had leveled up before him, and that fact sat uneasily with the pro gamer. He was desperate to catch up.

She, on the other hand, secretly enjoyed being first for once, though she’d never admit it to him.

She looked down at the tear in her hoodie. The hole had grown wider as they'd walked, until she bellybutton was sticking out.

“If this hole gets any bigger, I’m going to be walking around the office half-naked,” she remarked. “I wonder if there’s a  talent for repairing things. Seems like it would be useful for someone at the Castle to have a talent like that. Most of us only have the clothes on our backs.”

“I’d be surprised if it wasn't,” Xavier chimed in, settling down next to her and pulling up his talent web. “I’ve never played a game with a talent system this diverse. There must be tens of thousands of first-tier talents alone, let alone the more advanced ones hidden under the fog of war. You could probably find every skill in existence on this web. Look at this.”

He zoomed in on a section entitled ‘Languages’.

“English, Dutch, French, Mandarin. Every damn language in the world, though why anyone would bother spending a talent point to learn a language is beyond me. There’s even an option for ancient Sumerian.”

“Maybe someone likes to travel,” Milly suggested, as the last trace of her blister vanished. Her magical glow faded, and she laid back and stared up at the cloudless sky. “Not everyone wants to fight, Xavier.”

“Then they’ll be left behind. Ignore all the fluff talents, Milly. These are the sections I'm focusing on.”

He scrolled over to the web’s ‘Combat Skills’ section, which contained hundreds of melee and ranged weapon specialties, martial arts, and defensive techniques.

“I always go the swordsman’s route. Excellent DPS. Powerful and versatile. Plus, the best weapons in the game are always swords. I mix in stealth and ranged abilities if I need to round things out—it depends on the nature of the game. The more complex the game, the more I diversify.”

“No magic?” Milly asked curiously.

Xavier shook his head. “Not unless the synergy with the swordsman is there. The usefulness of magic is inconsistent from game to game. Sometimes overpowered, sometimes weak as hell. And it always comes with a down side that inevitably gets the player killed, like lower hit points. Even how the magic operates changes dramatically between games. By the time new players figure it out, the highest ranked players are already far ahead of them with more reliable classes. I mean, the complexity of the God Contest’s magic system would require a week of careful study and…”

He turned to Milly, who stared at him blankly.

“I was ranting again, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” she laughed. “But at least it was relevant this time.”

“I’m just glad you’re going down the healer route,” he said appreciatively. “It’s a great newbie class and critical for the back lines of any party.”

“Who said being a healer was my plan?” she protested with a little huff.

“Well, you’re traveling with me, and I assumed you’d…want to keep me healed?” he explained hesitantly.

“I picked Healer’s Touch to save your life,” Milly reminded him. “But I don’t want to rely on others to protect me, Xavier. I need to be able to defend myself. I don’t want to be a victim anymore.”

He hurled another stone into the creek, on the verge of sulking.

“Forget the talents,” she said to distract him. She pulled up her player screen and pointed to the flashing sections labeled ‘Unspent attribute points: 2’. “What about this?”

He shuffled closer to her.

“If the talent map is insanely complex, this attribute system is extremely simplistic,” he started, not bothering to hide his contempt. “Strength is how physically strong you are, obviously. Agility is speed and nimbleness. Toughness is stamina and resistance to damage. And magic is your ability to use spells, such as your Healer’s Touch.”

“I got two points when I leveled up, but I don’t know where to spend them. Which one is best?”

“Milly, I've played games that require hours of careful micromanagement to achieve the perfect balance. Personally, I like multi-input complex systems that allow for creative manipulation of complementary attributes to maximize player potential. In comparison, this system is Baby’s First RPG. It’s hard to screw it up. Probably designed that way so our idiot coworkers can grasp the basics with their tiny little brains.”

“So…strength then?" Milly asked, lumping herself into Xavier’s ‘idiot coworkers’ category.

“Sure, why not,” he sighed, the intricacies of the art of player design lost on his companion. “You can use voice commands for the system—Tutoria said it’s the easiest way.”

“Umm…add my two points to strength?” she said to the screen. The screen flashed, accepting her command.

Milly gasped and hunched over in pain. Every muscle in her body seized all at once, tightening as if she were experiencing a whole-body Charlie horse. She began to scream, but, as quickly as it came, the pain vanished.

“H-holy crap!” she exclaimed in astonishment, clenching her fists. She felt stronger than she’d ever felt in her life. It was as if she’d been training at the gym for an entire year. “Xavier, this is amazing. I feel like I could take on the entire world right now.”

She punched the air like a boxer, not caring how silly she looked.

Xavier leaned in and poked her flabby arm. “You don’t look any stronger. It must not alter physical appearance. That’s too bad.”

Her excitement was abruptly deflated.

I know I’m not much to look at, but really, Xavier? Just when I think you’re getting better, you have to say something like that.

Xavier, oblivious to the impact of his words, rested his arm against a fallen willow. “Why don’t we test that strength out. Arm wrestle?”

She glanced up, fire in her eyes. “You’re going down.”

Five seconds later, Xavier had decisively won.

Milly was dejected in defeat, rubbing her wrist. “I thought I had gotten stronger.”

“You did. But I’ve been hitting the gym for five years, Milly. Here, open your stats again.”

She focused, and her player screen appeared.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Mildred Persephone Hawthorn

Level: 2

Specialty: Survival

Strength: 4

Agility: 3

Toughness: 8

Magic: 6

Talents:

Healing: Healer’s Touch (Level 1)

Equipment: None

“You couldn’t have just let me win?” Milly moped.

“I’ve never let anyone win. You want to beat me? Get that strength above a six, and I’ll give you another shot.”

She picked up a fallen twig and threw it at him. Xavier ducked, laughing.

“I’ll beat you next time. I promise,” she declared as she slid on her socks and shoes.

“Well, good luck with that,” he declared, with a laugh that quickly grew more serious. “I don’t intend to be beaten. Not by you. Not by Fredrickson, or fucking Calista, or our god damned CEO. Not by anyone. Not ever again.”

They headed out, following the stream as it wound its way across the plains. Inspired by Xavier’s words, Milly made her own silent pledge.

All my life, I’ve let people walk all over me. My foster father. My landlord. Fredrickson. Calista. Hell, even Xavier. And what did it bring me? A life lived alone and forgotten. I won’t let it continue.

Whatever’s next for us…bring it on! It’s time to stop cowering.

And start living!

The Non-Canonical Aftermath:

“Congratulations, Xavier Holloway,” announces the High Lord, beaming at the perfect young man. “You have bested all my challenges and proven yourself to be the strongest and fastest that ever was.”

“Naturally,” Xavier boasts. “Was there ever any doubt?”

In the audience, every god and goddess swoons at his handsomeness and bravery.

“Of course not. It was clear from that very first day that you would be the best. I have one final test for you. A paltry task for one such as yourself. And if—no, when—you succeed, you shall be gifted the Super Duper Ultra Deadly Godkiller Sword—the greatest weapon ever forged.”

“Bring it on,” he shouts, and blows a kiss to the audience. The Goddess of Love in the front row faints with joy.

“All you must do is solve this simple riddle…written in ancient Sumerian!”

“Of course I…wait, what!”

Xavier bolts upright, awakened from his nightmare. 

He immediately adds ancient Sumerian to his talent wish list.

Scenic Art by Nancy Harron