[SP - F6] The Four People You Meet in Aincrad

[Lessa 1]

<<Calming the Soul>>

We are made of our longest days, we are falling but not alone.
We will take the best parts of ourselves, and make them gold.
We are made of our smallest thoughts, we are breathing and letting go.
We will take the best parts of ourselves, and make them gold.

Concentration. How hard could it be?

Incredibly hard, as Lessa was finding out. Two full hours had passed, and she had accomplished absolutely nothing. But why? She had the meditation pose down, with her long legs tucked under her, and her hands resting loosely on her knees. She had even pressed her thumb to her middle finger, but then stopped because it made her feel stupid. Honestly, it all made her feel stupid, but the quest promised the vanquishing of her inner demons. And for that, Lessa was willing to look stupid. Maybe she should have kept doing the finger thing after all.

The young woman squeezed her eyes closed, expelling her pent-up breath on a forceful sigh. There really wasn’t a manual for this sort of thing. Was she meant to block out all noise, or focus on one in particular? If the latter, the obvious choice was the waterfall. The constant gurgle of water did calm her. It forever rolled over the rocks, a murmur she found both spirited and soothing. So she focused on that. And focused. And focused.

And collapsed backward, body as limp as her mind apparently was. Arms and legs splayed as if to make some snow-less snow angel, she lay like roadkill atop the water-slick rock. What was the point?

I swear, if I can’t get this thing going before those consumables I took wear off, I’ll be royally -

Lessa consumes:
Well-Done Steak (Protein 2)
Immolation Potion +1
Potion of Obsidian Flesh [Compound:2] (Mitigation 3)
Golem's Strength (Damage 2)

Spoiler

 

Basics         DMG: 16+4=20 MIT: 89-20+30=99  ACC: 4 THNS: 36 BLD: 24 Immolation: 1   Skills/Mods   R5 2HSS R5 Heavy Armor Howl R3 MIT Familiar Survival Precision Ferocity Athletics

Equipment Scarecrow's Sickle (DMG/DMG/DMG/BLD) Rosebud Charm (ACC/ACC/ACC) Rose Gauntlets (THRN/THRN/HM) Inventory Transportation Crystal Well-Done Steak (Protein 2) Immolation Potion +1 Potion of Obsidian Flesh [Compound:2] (Mitigation 3) Golem's Strength (Damage 2)

Housing Buffs Rested: -1 energy cost for the first two expenditures of each combat. Relaxed: Increases out of combat HP regen by (5 * Tier HP) and decreases full energy regen to 2 Out of Combat Posts. Clean: The first time you would suffer DoT damage in a thread, reduce damage taken from DoT each turn by 20% (rounded down). Col Stash: +5% bonus col from monster kills and treasure chests. Multipurpose: Gain +1 to LD, Stealth Rating, Stealth Detection, or Prosperity to one post in a thread. Can be applied after a roll.

 

 

[Lessa 1]

When she woke, water surrounded her. It lay impossibly still, without a single wave or ripple, and the mirror-sheen surface reflected the sun perfectly. Forced to squint against the gleam, Lessa spun a slow circle, surveying her surroundings. She found water, and light, and… was that a ferris wheel? The woman lifted her hand to shield her eyes, then blew out a slow breath. Though a vast distance stood between them, the form was undeniably an amusement park of some sort. 

“Where am I?”

“Nowhere,” came the voice in her head. 

Lessa squealed, taking a panicked step back, but there was nothing to flee from. The sensation of a presence in her mind was unmistakable, and her skin crawled even as she demanded, “Who are you?”

“It makes little difference who we are.” 

“We?” No, not one voice - many voices. While they spoke in near perfect unison, there truly were many voices speaking inside Lessa’s head. It gave her the creeps. "This gives me the creeps,” she stated flatly. “Could you guys maybe choose one representative to do all the talking? And maybe not be in my head, because I’d really-”

“You will face four demons.” Oh, well, alright. Apparently the peanut gallery didn’t feel the need to appease her, or even listen to her request. “In defeating them, you will grow stronger.”

Her head fell silent. Lessa shifted expectantly atop the water’s glossy surface, moving from one foot to the other. Oooookay, now what? The voices had been pretty vague, and they had neglected to tell her what she had to do to start the first instance. Did she need to say “begin” or something? Jump up and down? Go somewhere? That amusement park had to be miles away, so if those people in her brain thought she was going to walk all that way, they had another think coming. 

Suddenly, Lessa was falling. The invisible platform she’d stood upon simply vanished, sending her splashing into the sea below. She sank like a stone, all the while watching a trail of tiny bubbles climbing toward the shifting sunlight above. She was a diver - she knew she was sinking too rapidly. She was going too deep. The depths embraced her like a lover, squeezing, squeezing, until darkness consumed her.
 

[Lessa 1]

She woke to the roar of a crowd. It was a familiar sound, and she was in a familiar place, a realization that came through the heavy fog of nostalgia. Stands rose like soldiers on all sides of her, each filled to bursting with players and NPCs alike. They screamed, chanted, placed final bets, a rolling sea of color and sound. The stink of dirt as it clogged her nose, the slow line of sweat dripping down her back, the hunger for victory on her tongue. Yes, she knew this place.

And she knew the man who stood opposite her across the battlefield.

His cloak snapped in the wind, a noise that carried despite the shouts of spectators. A face etched in stone stared back at her, with eyes as dark as whiskey, and equally potent. He did not smile, he did not speak, but every line and curve of his body spoke of challenge. No, not just spoke of it, declared it. He was ready. Once, she had been, too. But not this time.

"You?" she stammered. "But why?"

Alkor studied her in rigid silence, then finally asked, "Who were you expecting?" 

"A demon. That's what the quest said, and the voices in my head." When the man's gaze only narrowed, she hastily amended, "I just wasn't expecting you. I-I don't really want to fight you like this. Not again."

"Then why are you here?" The question boomed like cannon fire, and in an instant, all other sound fell away. All that remained was him, and her, and the swords they held between them. After a moment, Alkor spoke again. "Answer me. Why are you here?"

"To face my demons."

"You can take the first move."

She lunged. As her blade arched through the dusty air, Lessa had a brief second to study the weapon. A cursory glance revealed Hell Rose, the vibrant pink Claymore that had served her so well. That made sense, as it was the only sword she'd ever carried, and - no, that's not right. What about Scarecrow's Sickle? Klein gave you that sword. No, Bahr did.

The tumble of thoughts coalesced into a single, jarring reality as the broadside of her blade met Alkor's shoulder. In that moment, a single heartbeat, the weapon turned back to the familiar, formidable Scarecrow's Sickle. She remembered snowflakes, a cold breeze, and a neutron star...

Pain exploded in her gut. The sensation tore a scream from her chapped lips, and sent spasms through her body. The pain. The hole left by Alkor's blade burned with an unimaginable fury, one she'd not felt her entire stay in Aincrad. There were no settings to tinker with, no mechanics to dull the pain. She felt only agony, and Alkor's strong arm around her, pressing her body to his. 

Yes, she'd been here before. The pain was foreign, but his hold was not. His blade was not. It's Nightbringer. I made that for him, was her only thought as the blood began to flow.

Spoiler

ID#140370 BD: 4 + 3 = 7. HIT.
20(base) x 13 = 260 - 4 = 256

MD: 9 CRIT. 53 - MIT = 1

<<Lessa>> HP: 1329/1330 | EN: 118/130 
<<Weakness>> HP: 77/333 | DMG: 52 | MIT: 4

 

[Lessa 1]

"You are so weak."

As his mouth hovered mere inches from her ear, she felt each word as it passed his lips. Hot breath caressed her cheek as she turned toward him. Why? She had asked it of him years ago, when this scene had played out the first time. Back then, he'd said nothing in response.

You are so weak.

Had that been the answer all along?

He threw her, discarding her like garbage, sending her sprawling on the ground. As she screamed again, her wound pulsed pain and blood in equal measure; the hot, crimson liquid spilled through her fingers as she grasped at the hole helplessly. She needed to move, she needed to fight, but she could think of nothing but her own suffering. It made no sense, as only the tiniest sliver had been carved from her health bar. "Why?" she finally demanded on a hard, gasping sob. "Why does it hurt so much?"

"Because you let it."

Panting, Lessa fought to focus. "What?"

The dark-haired man’s brow furrowed, lips drawing into a paper-thin line. Disappointment? Disgust? His voice gave no clue as to his true feelings as he replied, “You leave yourself open to the pain when you let everything affect you so much.” Nightbringer, still dripping with her blood, shifted from one hand to the other before he motioned lazily toward her. “You’re down literally one hit point, yet you act like you’re dying. Stop being so dramatic.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” she stammered. Sweat dripped into her eyes, mingling with the salty tears that clung there. She blinked back both, and managed, “I can’t help the pain. I can’t just stop feeling things.”

Alkor tilted his head. “Sure you can. Grow thicker skin. Feelings don’t clear floors.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Spittle and blood flew like diamonds and rubies to litter the ground at his feet. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Finally, it dawned on her just what his expression held.

Pity.

“You really don’t have what it takes,” he informed her in a brisk, matter-of-fact manner. “Do I make you mad, Lessa? Why don’t you do something about it?”

She trembled now, and not only from the pain. “Because you’re my friend, so -”

“Don’t!” He thrust the blade toward her, splattering her own blood across her flushed face, and sending her flinching backward. Fire burned in those amber eyes now, the molten surface of a not-so-distant star. “Don’t make excuses for me, I don’t want them. Why don’t you keep some goddamn respect for yourself, instead of just handing it out to everyone else?”

The last sentence smacked her like a second strike from his weapon, and despite the pain, she gaped at him. “I don’t- I don’t do that.”

“Of course you do,” he shot back before she could say another word. The fire in his eyes was already fleeting, leaving cold calculation in its wake. “You never think about yourself. It’s a nice trait, until everyone starts treating you like a doormat. You let them hurt you, and then you feel bad about it, but nothing ever changes, does it?” When Lessa said nothing, Alkor continued. “When will you get tired of letting your emotions dictate everything you do?"

“Now pick up your sword,” Alkor commanded, “and fight me. For once, stand up for yourself.”

She did so, literally and figuratively, shakily finding her feet. Though she swayed with each step, the hilt of her sword remained tightly clasped in her blood-slicked hand. And when he brought his sword down, the black blade biting into her shoulder, she slashed upward with every ounce of new-found strength.

Spoiler

ID#140475 BD: 9. CRIT.
21(base + crit) x 13 = 273 - 4 = 269

MD: 10. SUPER CRIT. 54 - MIT = 1

<<Lessa>> HP: 1328/1330 | EN: 106/130 
<<Weakness>> HP: DEAD/333 | DMG: 52 | MIT: 4

 

[Lessa 1]

This time, she supported his weight. Alkor collapsed against Lessa, the movement sending blood cascading from the gash she'd left in her first friend. Nightbringer and Hell Rose clattered to the dusty earth in unison, and when Lessa's legs finally buckled, the players followed. The Guardian dropped to her knees, clinging to her dying companion as, like the final grains of sand in an hourglass, his health fell away.

Only seconds left. Only time for one last statement, one more apology, one-

"You're my friend, Lessa."

Red-rimmed blue eyes snapped to Alkor's face, found his gaze, then held it. "What?"

 The words came like a distant memory. He'd spoken them before, in a crowded tavern on the first floor, but the sentiment had been lost in her rage and hurt. "I wanted to help you get stronger. I see now that my way doesn't work for everyone. And I apologize for that."

This time, each syllable struck home. In a pool of blood spilling from shared wounds, Lessa drew Alkor closer. "Don't be sorry," she murmured. "I didn't understand you back then, but I'm beginning to. I know you were trying to help. I was so busy worrying about you that I couldn't worry about myself."

The realization crashed like a wave. All at once, the noise of the crowd burst back into being, filling the air with shouts, cries, and thunderous applause. She hardly noticed as the truth became abundantly clear.

Despite the noise, she heard his question with perfect clarity. "What did you learn?"

"That I'm enough. That I'm strong. That I don't need you."

Like a crimson tear, blood trickled from the corner of his lips as they curved into a small smile. It also dripped from his fingers as his hand moved to tousle her blonde hair. He'd done it once before, so, so many years ago. If only I'd known then what I know now.

"Good."

And with the single word, Alkor burst into shards of light.

[Lessa 1]

There was no transition, no shift from one scene to another - the stadium was just there, and then it wasn't. Lessa knelt atop the crystal-clear water, gaze on the hands resting limply atop her legs. Horror painted her face sheet-white as she gazed at where Alkor's body had been.

"Does it-" she faltered, then tried again. "Does it get easier?"

"No," replied the voices in near-perfect unison, once more violating her mind. "But you will get stronger."

Silence sprawled, as endless as the sea, until Lessa finally heaved a heavy sigh. "Enough with the motivational poster BS," she muttered, still trembling as she climbed to her feet. The woman wrapped her arms around herself, and though the action provided little comfort, she remained like that for a long while. "I thought I was fighting demons, not friends."

An uncomfortable swirling sensation filled her head, as if the presence there moved about before answering, "You are fighting the demons that held the most control over you when you met each individual."

Lessa frowned. "What was Alkor then?"

"Weakness," came the answer without pause. "Were you unable to see that for yourself?"

"In the battle information?" Apparently, she hadn't paid enough attention during the fight itself. I'll be sure to check that out next time. Shaking her head, the Guardian continued. "But I don't understand." Mounting impatience leaked into her voice as she said, "Why do I have to fight the people themselves? Why can't I just fight the demon? What do they have to do with-"

Further explanation, it seemed, would have to wait, as Lessa again tumbled into the ocean.

[Lessa 1]

She woke to the sound of insects. The angry buzz filled her ears, filled her head, and she squeezed her eyes tighter. Freaking mosquitos, Lessa thought, but the incessant droning remained. As she fought to block out the noise, a more complex melody emerged: birds trilling, frogs croaking, the muted murmur of the wind through the leaves. Even before she opened her eyes, she knew that the sun washed over her. She could feel the warmth as it permeated the canopy, an ever-changing kaleidoscope of light that speckled her face. The breeze that caressed her flushed cheeks carried the sickly-sweet scent of lilacs, and more distantly, the promise of rain. 

She waited for the nicker of a horse, or the crunch of grass under each hoof as her big buckskin crossed the pasture. She expected the whine of her brothers' dirt bikes, or the roar of Dad's tractor, or the familiar beats of Mom's favorite music; the Weekend Retro Show was a staple in the Butler household, and it would pour from every speaker on the property. As night fell, they would put away as many hot dogs as was humanly possible, and still find room for ice cream after. Her stomach rumbled at the mere thought, and Lessa sat up to ask Dad about dinner.

As she opened her eyes, reality and disappointment struck her with a violent, merciless one-two combo. Instead of Northern Michigan, Lessa found herself on Aincrad's first floor. Her heavy armor clunked as she pivoted, gaze resting on the sword that lay nestled in the grass by her side. "I thought I was out," she breathed, tears trembling on each word. But she was wrong. What do I do now?

All thought of home was forgotten at the sound of approaching footsteps. Self pity gave way to instinct, and with the force of a volcano's eruption, Lessa surged to her feet. The sword that seemed to materialize in her hand shot to the stranger's neck, hovering mere inches from his jugular.

He only smiled.

"We're really going to do this again?"

[Lessa 1]

"Baldur."

The Gaijin Samurai's handsome face warmed at her recognition. His smile unfurled like slow, swirling smoke as his blues eyes met hers. "So are you going to put that thing away, or-" His voice trailed as he motioned toward the sword leveled at his head. 

Crimson embarrassment crept across her cheeks as she swung her sword away. "Sorry," she muttered.

When Lessa said nothing else, Baldur's eyes narrowed slightly. "Are you alright?"

The blonde shook her head quickly, but answered, "No, yeah, I'm fine. I'm just- Well, you caught me at a bad time."

The older player smirked, then nodded back they way he'd come. "Want me to come back later?"

"No, no, no," she insisted. Then, more firmly, "No. I don't want you to go."

"Alright then. Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

The blonde crossed her arms across her chest with the thud of metal on metal. How could she explain what was on her mind? I thought I was back in the real world again? I'm furious that I'm still trapped here? I want to go home? Better to start with the more pressing issue. "Well, I'm supposed to learn something from you. And my last lesson...it didn't go well."

Despite the concern on his friend's face, Baldur brightened. "I would be happy to teach you, Lessa." In one swift, graceful movement, the man executed a perfect bow. As he straightened again, brushing his long, brown hair back from his face, something mischievous flashed in his eyes.  "Let me show you what I've learned."

The blue of his robes was an excellent choice as the warrior moved like water. In three effortless strides, Baldur closed the distance between them. His katana arcked through the fragrant air, dragging a line across Lessa's shoulder. Though Lessa managed to crash her sword's pommel into her opponent's side, he expertly danced away before she could deal further damage. 

She huffed out a surprised gust of air, taken aback by the speed with which he'd attacked. In fact, he already whirled the blade through the air, an invitation to strike once more. When did he get so good at this?

Spoiler

Galaxy Destroyer Activated
ID#152773 BD: 2 + 4 = 6. HIT.
20 x 13 = 260 - 6 = 254

MD: 6. 69 - MIT = 1.

<<Lessa>> HP: 1329/1330 | EN: 130(-12)=118/130  | MIT: 99
<<Loss>> HP: 185/439| DMG: 69 | MIT: 6

[Lessa 1]

Putting voice to her thoughts, Lessa stated, "You've come a long way since the first time I saw you."

Baldur dipped his head in thanks, then added, "I've come a long way even since the last time you saw me."

That warm smile was contagious, and Lessa found herself wearing it as well. "That doesn't surprise me." With her free hand, she motioned to the samurai. "I mean, look at you. You've definitely passed me in level and skill. You must be tearing up the Frontlines."

Though the words were meant to compliment, Baldur's blue eyes lost some of their brilliance. The sword in his hands dropped just slightly, his attention split as he studied Lessa across the meadow. "I haven't seen you out there yet."

The statement swatted the smile from her face, and despite being locked in combat, she looked away from him. "Yeah," she admitted on a quick exhale. "I guess once was enough for me. I'm just happy to cheer you guys on."

"I know you pretty well, Lessa." His words came slow, his voice level, and deliberately devoid of emotion. "That's not true at all."

His shift in demeanor had Lessa's eyes flying back to his, a red flush warming her cheeks. Embarrassment? Annoyance? Truth be told, the woman couldn't be sure what his words made her feel. "Of course it is. I'll support the Frontlines. It's been so great watching you all clear the floors. I'm really grateful for you."

Much to her surprise, Baldur's response was a sharp tsk. "You might fool everyone else with that act, and maybe you even believe it yourself. But you can't fool me. I know you better."

The brown-haired swordsman had five inches on her, but in that moment, she felt much, much smaller.

When he lunged, striking with the speed and power of a sudden storm, all she could do was swing wildly.

Spoiler

Galaxy Destroyer Activated
ID#153352 BD: 2 + 4 = 6. HIT.
20 x 13 = 260 - 6 = 254

<<Lessa>> HP: 1329/1330 | EN: 119(-12)=106/130  | MIT: 99
<<Loss>> HP: DEAD/439| DMG: 69 | MIT: 6

 

[Lessa 1]

The heavy blade found it's mark, tearing through Baldur's light armor, and sending him sprawling. Though she took no damage, Lessa's chest labored beneath her breastplate, and sweat tracked salty lines down her hot face. She stomped over to her friend's supine form. "You and I have always been straight with each other, Baldur," she began. Again, that hodgepodge of emotions left her just a little off-kilter. It wasn't anger that fueled her words. At least, not toward him. 

He held onto life with a single hit point, a leaf clinging to it's branch in a violent spring storm. Despite this, the lanky man sat up slowly, drew his legs beneath him. When he smiled up at her, motioned for her to sit, the fight simply left her. "Join me?" When she did so, Baldur shifted his katana, laid it gently across his lap. "Are you familiar with the Onna-Bugeisha?"

She blinked back at him, then slowly shook her head. Whatever she had been expecting, this was not it. "No, I'm not."

"Alright. With your vast history background, I thought you might have come across them. They were female warriors who belonged to Japanese nobility."

That rang a bell. "Like samurai?" 

Baldur's smile grew, pleased that she was following. "Sort of. These women were around way before the concept of 'samurai,' though they did fight with the men when things got dire. Historically, they primarily fought for their homes and families, but they were regarded as just as capable as their male counterparts. They were incredibly skilled, and trained in strategy and warfare. Their legacy was lost during the nineteenth century-" Baldur lifted his hand, cutting himself off, "- but that's a lesson for a later date."

When silence fell between them, a frown tugged at the corners of Lessa's lips. "That's really interesting," she began slowly, "but why are you telling me this?"

How the tables had turned - she was now the perpetually-stumped student, and he was the ever-patient teacher. "Because there are countless notable Onna-Bugeisha. Some, like Nakano Takeko, were skilled on the battlefield; she and her army of female warriors were instrumental during the  Boshin War. But others made names for themselves in different ways. They were scholars, teachers, nurses, politicians. They studied mathematics, science, and literature, and were all brilliant in their own rights."

There was that light again, shimmering in his lake-blue eyes as he added, "One of the first was Empress Jingū. Legend has it, she sought revenge on the men who killed her husband, and then led an invasion of the Korean Peninsula. The rumor is that she did it without bloodshed, depending on her diplomacy and ability to inspire social and economic change. Though her purpose was different from Nakano Takeko's, she was still powerful. She still made a difference."

When Lessa remained silent, Baldur tilted his head, smiled mischievously. "Have you figured it out, yet?"

In that moment, the bar above his head came into sharp focus, the single white word beaming like a beacon through her mental fog. "Loss," she read reverently. "You represent loss. Because of you, I was able to beat loss."

Baldur lifted a single hand, encouraging her to continue. "Loss of what?"

"Alkor?"

For the second time, Baldur scoffed. "You're not defined by him, and you do yourself a huge disservice by assuming everything relates to his death." The correction was firm, though not unkind. "Think bigger. What did the Onna-Bugeisha have? What were you missing when we met? What had you lost?" Like the bright sun emerging from behind a cloud, every inch of Baldur's face warmed, softened. "What did we help each other find?"

The mountains after nightfall, black earth against black sky. The sun-drenched terraces, and a tiny, one-bedroom shack. The moment of understanding, between teachers and students, between mentors and mentees, between friends. She saw it all with impossible clarity.

"We won't give up," he'd told her the first day they'd met, his hand placed firmly on her shoulder. "And neither should you." 

"You gave me purpose."

"Sort of." As he repeated the phrase from earlier, he climbed to his feet, offered his hand to her. "In the end, you were the one who found your own purpose. I just helped a little." With her hand in his, Baldur tugged Lessa to her feet, gave her a cheeky grin. "See you out there, Blonde-sempai." 

And then he was gone.

[Lessa 1]

"Half-way there." As she stood alone atop the sprawling sea, the words simply hung in the sun-warmed air. No wind whipped across the ocean, not even a breeze to tug at her long, loose hair. Huh, Lessa thought suddenly, tipping her head back to study the baby blue expanse. Despite the lack of wind, the cotton-ball clouds still slid silently across the sky. Weird. 

The voices came suddenly, startling Lessa from her woolgathering. "Did you learn the lesson you came for?" 

Despite the hot sun beating down, and bouncing back off the water's surface, goosebumps pricked across her arms. I will never, ever get used to that. "I did, yeah." Unlike the last time she'd spoken to the disembodied voices, grief did not leave her crippled. In fact, her interaction with Baldur left Lessa feeling so much lighter. I'll have to let him know how much killing him made me feel better. 

"We suspect he would not be pleased to know you enjoyed yourself."

"What?" Lessa exclaimed. Then her eyes narrowed. "Can you actu- no, wait." Can you actually read my mind?

"We can."

Regardless of the newly acquired information, the words escaped her before she could stop them. "Then why in the world have I been talking out loud? This is without a doubt the most ridiculous thing I have ever-"

[Lessa 1]

She woke to loud, guttural snoring. Heaving a groan, Lessa pressed her face deeper into her pastel pillow. How was anyone meant to sleep under these conditions? Did everyone's familiars have these little quirks, or just hers? You're loud, and you hog the bed, and-

The bed creaked as Lessa bolted upright, all grogginess gone as memory caught up with her "The quest!" she gasped, whipping her head back and forth to survey her surroundings. Late morning sun crashed through the wall of windows, staining her furniture in warm, vibrant light. Everything stood in it's proper place: the vanity, the chest of drawers, the potted plant, the dog bed that Riker always vacated during the night. No ocean, no clouds, no creepy voices occupying her head.

"What did I do?" Disturbed by her question, Riker lifted his head, blinked tired, amber eyes. Lessa frowned at him. "Why am I back? Did the voices kick me because I was yelling at them?" Was the game really that sensitive? 

Deciding he was up for the long haul, the wolf climbed to his feet, then hopped smoothly off the bed. His human companion followed, swinging her legs over the side, then padding to the full-length mirror. Bare feet, white tank, purple sleep shorts - her usual sleep attire. "Yup," she confirmed on a long sigh. "Looks like I got booted. What a waste." Cranky now, Lessa didn't even pause to make her bed before stomping toward the kitchen. She wanted something cold and sweet to drink, and sulking into a grape Faygo seemed like the perfect way to start her morning. 

Movement on her back porch froze Lessa in her tracks. Fear spiked like electricity through her system, and her first instinct was to grab for a weapon. But the flash of red fabric, burning brilliantly beneath the sun, assuaged all fears. 

[Lessa 1]

"Morning, Ace." Bahr unfolded his long body from the Adirondack chair, climbing to his feet as she joined him on the porch. "How did you sleep?"

Various emotions crashed like rival waves, the joy she always felt when she saw him warring with confusion and lingering frustration. "I slept well," she answered slowly, "but I guess I don't remember much ab- did you sleep over last night?" Color drained from her face as another possibility surface. "Did we, uh..." Finding it difficult to find the words, Lessa offered a series of hurried hand gestures.

Bahr's laugh came like a cool breeze on a hot day. "No, we didn't." He strode up to her, reaching out to draw her against him. "You goob." He whispered it against her hair before planting a kiss atop her head. When he drew back, his face had softened, but laughter still raged in his mismatched eyes. "When we do, I promise you'll remember it."

"Heh, right." Face burning with embarrassment, she buried it into his chest. He gently eased her back, stooped so they were eye-level. 

"None of that," he countered gently. "How about I make you breakfast?"

"I'd like that."

A plate of scrambled eggs and hasbrowns later, Lessa watched Bahr store the remaining ingredients. He looked so comfortable in her kitchen, far more so than she did, but that wasn't saying much. She liked the way he looked, and the way watching him made her feel.

On a long, contented sigh, Lessa murmured, "I could get used to this."

"Hm?" Bahr glanced over his shoulder. "You mean the breakfast?" He closed the fridge with the clink of items shifting inside it, then walked over to occupy the bar stool beside her. 

The smile came easily, then grew as he sat down. "Yes," she answered, "that's part of it. But it's more than that. Waking up to all of this." With a wave of her hand, she motioned to her surroundings: the sun, the wilderness, the familiar comfort of home. "And to you." At Bahr's silence, she loosed a small, one-shouldered shrug. "I like waking up to find you here. I've woken up alone so many times, and it's just different with you around. It's nice."

Bahr's white eyebrows winged up, and he reached over to give her arm a teasing poke. "I've slept over before, you know," he reminded her.

Shyly, Lessa glanced at the spot where his finger had jabbed. "I know that. But I guess I'm just kind of realizing now how much it means to me."

When her eyes moved back to his, she saw the white name hanging over his head.

<<Solitude>>.

[Lessa 1]

Where she expected to feel joy at the quest's continuation, a sudden emptiness filled her. Sliding off the stool, Lessa walked a few steps, turned back to him. "None of this is real, is it?"

Bahr studied her for a moment, then answered, "It could be."

"Yeah." The smile that ghosted across her face was small, but genuine. "You're right." Then the smile fell away, leaving discomfort in it's wake. "I guess I have to fight you now, huh?"

Her snowy-haired suitor stood, then lifted his hands in a placating manner. "Hey," he quipped, "I don't make the rules."

In three long strides, she closed the distance between them. Snaking her arms around him, she hugged hard. "But I don't want to," she mumbled against his trademark jacket. "I don't want to fight you, or kill you."

She felt the laugh before she heard it, the gentle shaking of his body against hers. "Pretty bold of you to assume you're going to beat me."

Under different circumstances, she'd have laughed as well, or done a bit of her own trash talking. But she couldn't muster the good humor. "I can't watch you die."

For the second time, Bahr gently peeled his girlfriend off of him and held her by the shoulders. "Lessa," he began slowly, that deep voice only a step above a whisper. "It's not real, remember?" He stepped back, threw his arms wide, then gave her a cheeky wink. "Besides," he boomed, "haven't you ever wanted to beat up on me a bit? Now's your chance!"

With a watery laugh, Lessa scrubbed at her face with both hands. "Yeah, alright," she finally conceded, dropping her arms to her sides, "but I'm not going to let you win."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Hand in hand, they walked to the patch of grass between the porch and the lake's edge. On opposite sides of the yard, Dawn's Demise and Scarecrow's Sickle waited, their blades plunged into the earth. As soon as the swordswoman wrapped her hand around the hilt, ribbons of light began twisting their way around her body, accompanied by the twinkle of bells. Once both had fallen away, Lessa stood in full armor.

Like most everything else in their lives, they were on exactly the same page. Lessa and Bahr lunged in a single, synchronized movement, both blades bursting with power as twin sword arts activated. At the same time that Lessa's arms jerked with the force of a successful hit, she felt the massive red weapon barrel into her breastplate. The combined force blasted the pair apart.

Spoiler

Galaxy Destroyer Activated
ID: 156978. BD: 9 CRIT.
21*13=273-10=263

MD: 8. HIT. 104-99=5

<<Lessa>> HP: 1325/1330 | EN: 130(-12)=118/130 | MIT: 99
<<Solitude>> HP: 402/665 | DMG: 104 | MIT: 10

 

[Lessa 1]

From across the battlefield, Bahr cast her a wide grin. "That was a huge hit," he observed, appreciation clear in his tone. Despite the massive amount of health she'd relieved him of, the pleasure on his face was hard to miss. "What were you thinking of with that one? Was it our fight against the Lich King?"

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "Yikes," she drawled. "I'd almost forgotten about that one. I wish you hadn't reminded me." After years of avoiding combat, Lessa had allowed Bahr to lead her back into the fray. Proving the universe had a sick sense of humor, she had nearly died. The silver lining had been Bahr's response to the brush with death, and the unique position they'd found themselves in afterward. She, still shaking from her close call, and he, with regret for putting her there, had found themselves forced into an unusual companionship. Only an hour after near-catastrophe, they were talking philosophy over cider and burgers.

As if reading her thoughts, Bahr cocked his head. "Oh come on," he protested, "it wasn't all bad."

Lessa snorted, shifting to let Sickle's blade rest in the thick grass. "You swerved from the plan and almost killed me."

"I improvised." But the smile no longer reached his eyes.

Recognizing the slight shift in demeanor, Lessa waved a gauntleted hand. "Don't worry about it though, okay? I kind of like the way it worked out." He said nothing, the lazy lapping of the lake at the shore the only sound. The serenity played a sharp contrast to the battle they were meant to be fighting. Even this demon encounter is different than the other two, she thought to herself. Because he's different from everyone else.

So she smiled at him. "I mean, I felt something when I first met you at the Monument, but that day really solidified it for me. I had refused combat so many times, but when you asked, I didn't hesitate. I'm not sure why I did that, but I think I needed that experience to remind me I could trust someone. I could depend on someone to have my back. And ever since that day, you have." As the memory played out in her mind, just a bit hazy, like an old home video, her expression softened. "You may have been the one who got me into the mess, but you were the one who carried me out of it, too. So I can't stay mad at you."

Bahr raked fingers through his white hair, then shrugged. The confident smile had returned. "You should stay mad at me just a little longer though, because it gave you quite a boost. And you still haven't beat me yet."

When his confidence was reflected in her own smile, Lessa sprang. Though Bahr did the same, his foot slipped in the damp grass, sending him sprawling. So even quest Bahr is clumsy. With a laugh, she unceremoniously brought her sword down across his prone form. No use wasting a perfectly good sword art, even if she felt a little bad about hitting him while he was down.

Spoiler

Galaxy Destroyer Activated
ID: 156985. BD: 4+4=8
20*13=260-10=250

MD: 2. Miss.

<<Lessa>> HP: 1325/1330 | EN: 119(-12)=107/130 | MIT: 99
<<Solitude>> HP: 152/665 | DMG: 104 | MIT: 10

 

[Lessa 1]

After carving off another chunk of Bahr's health, Lessa waited until he found his feet again. "Sorry about the backstabbing."

"It's not like it's the first time."

He didn't have to elaborate for Lessa to pick up on the meaning. Sanctuary - the first time they'd truly come to blows.The color drained from her face, then rushed back as she jabbed a finger at him. "Okay, listen," she began, power surging from her as she took a step forward.

Bahr caught her finger, brought it to his lips, kissed it. Then he smiled. "I'm teasing you," he stated. "And yes, before you tell me I always tease you, I know I do. Getting a rise out of you is one of life's small pleasures."

Her gaze held his for a moment, but the fight seeped out of her like water through a sieve. I really can't hold onto a good mad when it comes to you. Battling the urge to look away, she sighed softly. "I am sorry about that, though. I know I've apologized already, but I am. That whole night was a mess, and I let my temper run away with me instead of just trusting you. In the end, I was wrong. I need you to know that."

Whether it was the words she spoke, or something in the tone, Bahr bent to drop his sword. When he straightened, he wrapped both hands around hers. "I do know, but thank you for telling me. And you're wrong, by the way." When the surprise flashed across her face, he gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. "The night wasn't all a mess. We're stronger because of what we went through. I know now that even if we do fight, we'll only come out of it in a better place than we were originally. And there's a lot of power in that. Plus..." Was that a faint blush she caught? "I really liked the way the night ended."

"So did I. Really, I've liked it all. Fighting the zombies, and that uncomfortably attractive vampire lady. That festival with the hot chocolate, and killing the banshee." Something in her expression went a little dreamy. "And that date you took me on. So many of my happiest moments have involved you, and even some of my toughest ones, because you were there to support me."

Now Sickle fell to the ground beside her, and Lessa clasped her hand over his. "The truth is that I want all of my moments to involve you. I want to spend all of my time with you, and okay, maybe that seems a little crazy. Maybe I am crazy. But I've been alone for so long." The words came faster now, spilling directly from her heart. Words she'd wanted to share with him for so long. "I needed that time alone, to figure out who I was, and what I wanted. I needed to know what I was capable of. I know that now. I know who I am, and now all I want is to know who I am with you."

Lessa's chest rose and fell, heart galloping as if the speech had required considerable effort. When she was met with only silence, she searched his face desperately. "Well?" she asked breathlessly. "Aren't you going to ask me what I've learned?"

He closed the space between them in a single step. Gently, his hands cupped her face, palms cool against her flushed skin. He leaned down, and in a voice meant only for her, whispered three words.

"Tell me later."

Bahr pressed his lips to her forehead, then disappeared.

Spoiler

Galaxy Destroyer Activated
ID: 156997. BD: 4+4=8
20*13=260-10=250

<<Lessa>> HP: 1325/1330 | EN: 119(-12)=107/130 | MIT: 99
<<Solitude>> HP: DEAD/665 | DMG: 104 | MIT: 10

 

[Lessa 1]

She knew where she was even before she opened her eyes.

The sound of laughter, the sounds of shrieks, and the mechanical hum of machines surrounded her. A familiar voice on a loudspeaker gave a play-by-play of a demolition derby, and cheers rose and fell to accompany it. Warm air carried the aroma of elephant ears, Fiske Fries, and cow manure. While the latter might not have appealed to some, Lessa breathed it in like a diver breaching the water's surface. She recognized the smell, the sound, the feel  of this place. And suddenly, she had to swallow around the lump in her throat.

With her eyes still screwed shut, the words came out on a breathless whimper. "Why?" she asked her spirit guide. "Why did you bring me here, instead of the ocean? Why would you-"

"Alyssa, hun, there you are!"

The whimper became a sob, and as she turned toward the voice, Alyssa finally opened her eyes. There, bathed in the ferris wheel's flashing lights, stood her father.

"Dad," she croaked, stumbling toward him like a desperate toddler. He nearly fumbled the two bowls of loaded French Fries he held as they collided, but he said nothing as she wrapped herself around him. In fact, no one seemed to notice the girl sobbing into her father's chest, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. It was only when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head that she finally drew back, and through watery eyes, gazed up at him. "It's you."

His quick laugh dragged another sob from his daughter. She had forgotten what it sounded like. 

"Of course it's me," he answered. "You think I was going to pass these up?" With a grin, he held up the twin paper bowls. "We only get them once a year."

"It's been a lot longer than that for me."

The grin softened, and the same warmth that frequented Alyssa's eyes came into her father's. "I know. Now let's grab a table, and while we eat, you can tell me about it."

♬

[Lessa 1]

"And now I'm here. Which doesn't make a ton of sense, because the fair has nothing to do with SAO." Alyssa shoveled a steaming pile of ranch-drenched fries into her mouth, then chewed thoughtfully. "The other three were places and people from Aincrad, but this isn't. I don't know if I'm supposed to wait for it to change, or for someone to show up, or what."

"That's a lot of questions," her dad mused. "And I have a few of my own, namely why this Bahr guy was sleeping over at your house."

The fork-full of food missed Alyssa's mouth completely, and as she stabbed her chin in startled surprise, the contents plopped into her lap. "Jesus, Dad," she spluttered, dropping the plastic utensil back into her bowl and grabbing for napkins. As she flicked the fries off her blue jeans, and dabbed at the stain left behind, she became painfully aware of the blush on her face.

"Well, you haven't exactly introduced us, so how am I supposed to know if-"

"Dad!" Exasperation exploded on the single word, but it melted back into embarrassment when she glanced up into his laughing eyes. "Come on," Alyssa grumbled. Picking up her fork again, she angrily stabbed at a fry as if it had personally wronged her. "It isn't like that."

Her dad chuckled, tipping his bowl so he could scrape out the last of the cheese. "I would like to know more about who my daughter is seeing." A pause, and then, "Would I like him?"

"You would, I think."

"Do you like him?"

This time it was she who chuckled, a soft escape of air as she nodded. "Yeah. I really, really do."

Apparently satisfied with her answer, he stood and collected his empty bowl. "Alright then," he began, reaching for hers once she'd eaten the last bite. "Let's get you back to him."

[Lessa 1]

For a short time, the pair simply wandered the midway together. They allowed themselves to be swept up in the steadily moving crowd, two fish dragged along by the current, all the while sharing a companionable silence. So many questions bounced around Alyssa's head, and some made it as far as her tongue before she caught herself. Asking about her mom, her brothers, the house, her life - none of it would do any good. The man beside her was simply a figment of her imagination, a construct of her memories, pulled out by the game to be used against her. Wondering about the outside world would be asking too much of this fantasy, and would likely result in her losing everything all over again. At least now, she would only have to say goodbye to her dad.

There was a time not too long ago, walking down a midway just like this one, when Alyssa had tried to distance herself from her dad. She had been sixteen, and way too cool to be seen walking around with her parents, especially when the cute guys in her club were watching. So she'd zig-zagged through lines of people waiting for rides, cut through pavilions, and even hid behind tables loaded down with 4-H projects. Peering out between a riotous Independence Day floral arrangement, and a cake shaped like Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, the teenager had watched her father pass by. Dumping her dad was about as cool as hanging with him was lame.

Those days, and that girl, seemed a lifetime away. Now Alyssa slipped her arm through her dad's, and rest her head on his shoulder while they walked. No harm in living out the fantasy just a little longer.

Finally, they reached the north end of the midway. The rides and food stands tapered off, leaving only a short walk until the riding arenas and the horse barns. In fact, Alyssa could hear distant whinnies, and the occasional dull thunk of a bored (most likely) mare kicking her stall. She fully expected that they would keep walking, but instead, her dad led her to the final carnival game. The girl's stomach lurched as she recognized the brightly decorated roulette wheel, and the colored tiles that lined the booth on all four sides. The point of the Color Game was simple - individuals placed quarters on the colors they thought would win. Two balls were tossed into the wheel, and whoever had their quarters on the winning colors were given prizes. And while the entire Butler family had sworn off games like this, as they were most likely rigged, the Color Game had been the only exception.

Gently drawing back from his daughter, her dad plunged his hand into the pocket of his blue jeans, and offered Alyssa a small handful of quarters. In response, she shook her head, and plucked a single coin from the pile. "You know I always pick the same color."

Her dad's eyes, the same shade of blue as her own, rolled dramatically. "Even now, you're so predictable." With speed that surprised her, he leaned over and planted a quarter on the VIOLET square. "Oops," he exclaimed, grinning over at her. "I guess now you'll have to pick a different color, because you definitely can't have the same one that I have."

Alyssa huffed out a breath, her blonde bangs flying madly. "That was playing dirty," she informed him, before motioning to the remaining tiles. "Well go ahead and place the rest of yours. Then I'll pick mine."

Without hesitation, the man placed his final bets in a single sweeping motion: BLACK, BLUE, CRIMSON. Only when he turned back to her did Alyssa reach out and place her single coin.

CYAN.

"Mom's color."

"Yeah, Mom's color."

[Lessa 1]

Alyssa knew that their colors would win. What twisted dream would have her lose at a game like this? Still, she bounced in anticipation as the twin balls raced around the wheel, careening off each other and skipping over the rainbow of colored slots. She let out a whoop of victory and punched the air as the balls settled, and the winners were called - CYAN and VIOLET. Her gaze leaped to the vibrant, stuffed menagerie that hung over their heads; galloping ponies, flying dragons, pigs with smug little smiles. But the carnival worker reached below the table, withdrew two cylinders, and offered them to Alyssa and her father. Only once she held the plastic toy in her hand did she recognize it for what it was. While it remained folded into a single piece, the shape was unmistakable - a retractable lightsaber.

Giggling, Alyssa motioned to their prize. "I must have gone through a dozen of these when I was a kid."

Her father snorted, but laughter lurked behind his words as he answered. "You went through so many because I kept taking them away from you. You beat up everything: the furniture, the walls, your mom's orchids."

She held up a finger to interject. "But never any of the animals."

"You hit your brothers all the time."

Now it was her turn to snort. "They don’t count," Alyssa retorted, falling into step beside him as they wandered toward the horse barns. "Besides, it's their fault they couldn't defend themselves better. I was just executing Order 66."

"You're sick," he replied pointedly, then shook his head. "And I'm lame for understanding that reference. I saw that first movie in theaters."

"Lame and old!" Alyssa snickered, then fell silent when she realized where her father had led them. The pair stood in the center of the show ring. The announcers booth rose like a silent guardian to their left, draped in thick, inky shadows. The bright lights that typically illuminated the ring stayed dark, the only lights cast by the stars, the moon, and the nearby barn. Horses shifted in their stalls, the occasional nicker rising above the whir of fans that cooled them against the August heat. As far as Alyssa could tell, no one else noticed them. Perhaps no one else existed at all. It certainly felt that way.

Alyssa blew out a long, slow breath. Then she turned to her father. "This is it, isn't it?"

"You didn't just come here for the fries and the company," he reminded her, his smile a beacon through the darkness.

Her throat worked, but when the words finally came, they were steady. "I didn't even need the fries. The company was enough."

"You trying to butter me up?" With a flick of his wrist, he extended the lightsaber. Each panel burst into light as it was exposed, a rainbow of colors, just like she remembered. Now lit by blue, green, yellow, and red, her father motioned her forward. "So you going to hit me, or should I have left you in the poultry barn with the other chickens?"

Spoiler

Galaxy Destroyer Activated
ID: 196303. BD: 1 MISS.
- 2 EN

MD: 3. MISS.

<<Lessa>> HP: 1330/1330 | EN: 128/130 | MIT: 99
<<Doubt>> HP: 1000/1000 | DMG: 156 | MIT: 12