Capítulo 4: Generation
He was back in the auditorium. The Hall of the Lost, that Victorina had called it. Purgatory.
But, unlike the first time he'd been in the hall, this time no other "Player" except him was there.
Outside the hundred arch-shaped windows was purple as night. The hall was dim but not completely dark.
Victorina was, as before, under the stone arch in the center of the stage. Only that she was sitting on an antique chair, sipping tea with her one hand holding a quaint tea cup, and the other holding the saucer. Frey would describe her as ladylike, elegant, traits that were evident from just a simple motion. The scene would've been breath-taking if wasn't reminded of the fact that this woman was the reason he's in a kill-or-die game with other dead people.
When she noticed Frey from the corner of her eye, she brought down the tea cup and its saucer on the round table before her.
"I didn't realize I have a visitor. How are you?" her voice echoed throughout the empty chamber, as melodious and charming as he heard it the first time. Like his ears wanted to just stay there all day long and listen to her talk.
"I'm not a visitor. I don't even know why I'm back here. Did I die again?" he answered, with none of the pleasantries he couldn't afford to indulge in.
"Hmmm..." she put a finger up her chin. "No you didn't. You are merely... sleeping, for the moment."
Oh goodie.
"That aside, come have a seat." Victorina ushered him to the seat across from her. Frey took the stairs up the stage, walked up to the archway and sat opposite to Victorina.
"So you can watch us without actually being there, eh?" he laughed wryly.
"Frey Alcott, is it?" Victorina flashed him a seducing smile. "I am a goddess. I can see what every Player is doing. Can see what every living thing on Eideleir is doing."
"Oh sorry. I thought you were just my worst nightmare given shape."
Getting on a goddess' bad side might not be in his best interests, but for a moment he didn't care. He'd been through a lot the past few hours: dying, reincarnating, and then almost dying. Again. He wasn't what you'd call mentally sound at the moment.
"I don't understand why you are so angry. I was not the reason you died, was I?" she tilted her head in genuine curiosity.
The reason he died.
"I was... I was attacked by a monster." he uttered, voice deep as he remembered what he went through in that back alley. How the thing laughed as it chased him to his death. No, it didn't even need to chase him. It was just toying with him, made him think he could run.
"Yes, a Goblin Hound, wasn't it?" Victorina sipped on her tea cup. "You've done well killing something so ferocious. Did you know, that villages send out ten men just to hunt one?"
"No, I'm not talking about that hound."
"Eh?" Victorina's golden eyes went wide.
"I was attacked by a monster. On Earth." Frey met her gaze. "Don't you know anything about that?"
"No," she shook her head. "It is my first time hearing it."
"But I thought you were a goddess?"
"Rude." she puffed her cheeks. "I'm a goddess of Eideleir, not of Earth. Although it is theoretically possible for a monster to cross worlds, this is my first time hearing a case of an earthling getting attacked by one.
"I mean, it's one thing if a monster managed to cross worlds, but whether it can stay alive on Earth long--given that Earth is a magically-dry world--is another thing in of itself. Monsters, unlike beings with soul, need to suck up magic power constantly to maintain its form. I guess I don't need to explain to you what happens when they don't get enough magic to feed on?"
"So, you're saying, the monster should've died of starvation before it could even attack someone?"
"It shouldn't have been able to even take form, in the first place. Or it could have, but it'd look more like a moving black sludge, than anything like a monster." she sighed. "But then again, we're running on the assumption that it really WAS a monster."
Frey tilted his head. "You mean it wasn't?"
"I'm not saying absolutely. I'm just stating the possibility that it might not have been a monster." Victorina's expression changed from factual to one that hinted playfulness. "All these things aside, aren't you playing my game right now? I love my players, but I see them no more than pets. I believe you're being... too hasty, with your advances towards me. I am a woman, but I am a goddess at the same time. Simply talking to me like this is not enough to make me fall for you."
Frey froze on his seat.
"Huh? Who said anything about making you fall?"
"Was that not your motive for visiting a woman so late at night, in the first place?"
Women sure can make any situation difficult. He thought he already understood that from Elise, but he haven't known a goddess yet. He sighed, massaged the stress out of his forehead.
"Like I said, I don't even know how I got here. I thought maybe I died again but you said I didn't, so how come I'm here?"
"Men are disappointing no matter which world they come from, aren't they?" Victorina heaved a sigh, her chest rising and falling as she breathes. Not that he was looking at her chest, no.
"Well, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Frey Alcott," she put down her teacup and saucer on the table and leaned on her chair. "but I'm afraid Eideleir is already calling for you."
"I agree." his gaze roamed around the empty dark hall. "Staying in this place for too long brings back unwanted memories."
"Had anyone ever told you that you are such an unromantic man?" Victorina said.
"No I'm usually romantic. Especially to pretty girls. I don't know. I guess I just don't like goddesses. Now, it was lovely talking to you, dear Victorina, but I want to go back to the game now." he flashed a wink at her, which only flared the goddess' irritation further.
"Add 'rude' to your name and you're just perfect." Victorina ended their conversation with that sore loser's remark and snapped her fingers.
The corners of Frey's vision wriggled. He closed his eyes, let the transition between worlds, between dream and reality, pass him by.
---
When he opened his eyes, he was laying alone in a small, dim-lit room. The ceiling was made of weaved layers of dried grass, and the walls were made of thin wooden logs. There was no lighting except from the rays of golden sunlight peeking from the tiny spaces between the logs of the wall.
He laid on a single sheet of cloth. Hardly comfortable, but it was enough. And no pillows. He was no longer in his shirt and pants. Instead, a loose white robe wrapped his body. What was this kind of robe called again? Kimono? His dirty shirt and slacks lay in a heap on one corner of the room.
Rough bandages covered his arm from the elbow down. He could still feel it throb with pain, but at least the wounds have stopped bleeding.
He lifted his body up. With only his uninjured arm as support, he found it quite the struggle. His torso still ached all over, he wouldn't be surprised if, under the robe, his body was peppered with bruises. The goblin hound wasn't exactly light. Getting mounted by it was like getting run over by a scooter.
He looked around the room, and couldn't help but feel no one was living in it before him. Apart from the sheet of white cloth under him, nothing in the room suggested that someone used to live here, which made him wonder who could've helped him. Or what.
Was it really help?
Just as he thought that, the sword mark on the back of his right hand, which existence he had completely forgotten until now, flashed bright. The dim room got painted bluish-green by the intensity of the light the mark emanated.
He shuffled to his feet and readied his arm guard. How did it work again? He thought back to his fight with the goblin hound. The blade deployed right when he punched the monster.
He look down at the arm guard, then at the flimsy door. He could feel it--footsteps, the breathing of the enemy. As if the mark on his right hand was feeding him information of the enemy, whatever it was. He balled his right hand to a fist, and tore the air in front of him with a punch. Within the arm guard was a click, and out of it sprung a blade about one and a half foot long. Sleek and sharp, the silver blade had a double-edged body that tapered slightly until the tip. The blue gem of the arm guard glowed to life, eager for battle.
His mark glowed brighter and brighter, as the detected enemy approached. It took leisurely steps, until it stopped in front of the door. Frey crept toward the door, careful not to make any sound when...
"Oh good, you're awake." the deep voice of a man--his enemy, rung from beyond the wooden door. "Hey can you uhh, open this door? My hands are full."
"Who are you?" Frey shouted.
"Me? Just an old man who found an injured boy deep in the forest sleeping with a goblin hound." the man said with not a hint of seriousness.
He knew it was stupid to trust the man outside, but what if he was telling the truth? What if this man really saved him?
"Hey, you gonna open the door or what? Actually, this is my house, you know?"
His mark only glowed brighter, as if telling him not to open the door. But, if he really was an enemy, shouldn't he have just left Frey to die in that forest?
He relaxed from his stance. The blade withdrew.
"Fair point." he opened the door.
Well, saying he "opened" it was a bit of an overstatement. The door didn't have any locking mechanism, and all he really did was pull on its steel handle.
Warm air and daylight poured into the room, and the man, carrying two large bags on both hands, passed by Frey as he entered.
"Man, it's a hundred degrees outside." the man said as he put down his bags on one corner of the room. He was tall and huge, head nearly touching the ceiling. Mid-40s, dark-skinned, wearing white kimono perfectly identical to the one Frey wore. A katana hung on his waist and, like Frey, the back of the man's right hand glowed strong bluish-green.
"You, you're a Player." Frey uttered in disbelief.
The man, without turning to face him, spoke.
"So, what if I am?"
"The game, is to eliminate other Players, isn't it? Why didn't you kill me?"
"Kill you?" The man turned. His eyes were ice-blue sharp, betraying his laid-back facade.
"You don't belong in my generation. What would I get by doing that?"
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder