Chapter 21: Chapter Twenty-One

My eyes widen as I stare up at the taller girl, her lips mere centimetres away from mine. I can still taste her, like honey and wildflowers. Then her words filter through my confused brain and I almost collapse, only help up by her strong arms around me. She… LOVES me?!?!

I open my mouth, and all that comes out is “Aasahhjefgvwebfiuhefwyweu!!!!”

Asteria giggles and releases me. I follow her in a daze, bumping into the doorway as I bumble after Alv’s swaying hips. It takes a few minutes to get my head back in the game, so to speak, and we focus on finding a path down into the depths of the sepulchre. The Gnoll scouts ahead, padding silently through the dust, despite his immense size. The Lizzara watches our backs, his eyes burning orange in the darkness.

After descending who knows how many tiers into this wretched place, something strange starts to happen. We start running into bodies. Not dressed like the guards, they didn’t get this far; these are much, much older. Their armour is more ornate, adhering to some obsolete design, with too much gilding and filigree to be purely defensive. This is the kind of armour the royal guard might wear in an emperor’s throne-room or something. they’re also partly mechanized, just like the things we fought earlier, but far better-quality. They all have similar wounds, though. The cuts and holes throughout the piled corpses match those that a weapon like MINE would inflict. Something with enormous physical strength came through here and utterly butchered these creatures... a side-passage leads off, a short and barely-noticeable path ending in a small room. Several more creatures are sprawled out around the thick metal door that had sealed the passage, before it had been totally smashed in. A small, leather-bound book is leaning against a small plinth in the centre of the room, several broken urns scattering ancient pottery shards everywhere. I pick the book up, examining it. It’s worn, and stained with long-dried blood, the leather gouged in several places. Something about this place has kept it from decaying into dust, and I open the cover. The words are written in a strange language, but, somehow, my brain translates it.

“This is the record of Chrono-Archeologist Zakariah Templeton, of the college of the Vassimarian capital, written in Cloudscript, which I learned among the Skyborne during my travels. I have inked these notes, in the hope that I may one day retrieve them and unveil the truth of how the Raskel kingdom fell. I have come to these long-forgotten halls with my stout companions in the hope of bringing to light whatever I find down here.

Day 15 of our expedition: we have encountered nothing suspicious or strange, such that the tales of moving flesh-puppets and horrific beasts made of swords and bone seem fanciful. However, we must tread with care, for sites of chrono-archeological importance have a nasty habit of killing those who seek to expose their secrets. Ancient kings and warlords, while not the most creative sort, lack nothing when it comes to filling their strongholds with all manner of devious little death-traps.

 

Day 27: one of our number disappeared last night. There was not a sign of her whence we awoke, and the sentries reported nothing out of the ordinary. It is like she simply vanished without a trace, but there is a feeling of unease permeating our camp. Not knowing how or why fills me with a hint of dread. If she had absconded, there would be signs. Stolen food, her bedroll and equipment missing, her beloved harp…. She would never have risked leaving, unarmed and without provisions. Saette, I pray that we find you, or at least discover what happened to you…

Day 30: We… we found Saette. Or, rather, SHE found US. We’d relocated our base-camp to one of the lower halls, when one of the scouts came rushing in, all shaken up and quite delirious. He claimed he’d seen our missing Alv, but we merely confined him to bed, thinking he’d breathed in some hallucinogen, or perhaps he’d snuck a few nips too many of Orrin Redbrand’s stash of rotgut. But, he was right. Merely a small brace of hours later, I was examining several samples we’d procured, when Saette lurched into my quarters. It was her, but not her. She swung at me with a jagged spar of metal, and it was all I could do to fend her off. I received a nasty gash to my shoulder, but, if Saette had been herself, I’d had been dead the moment she wanted!

Orrin and couple of others put her down. She didn’t move or fight like a person, more like a machine than anything else. When we… cut her open, I saw what had happened. Her organs had been removed with surgical precision, and some unkind doctor had replaced them with clockworks and devices that kept her functioning. She reanimated twice more while we tried to study what had befallen her, and only decapitation prevented a third. We burned her, and I consulted with a couple learned fellows to determine what must be done. We’ve come too far to turn back, and I refuse to let Saette’s unfortunate fate be forgotten.”

 

I swallow, then call the party together. “We should resume streaming, Astie. This might give other players some advanced warning.” I must have looked troubled, because Asteria didn’t protest, the pair of us turning our software back on.

“Hey guys, I know we already streamed today, but we’ve made some unsettling discoveries. Warning, this is kinda gruesome, so if you aren’t a fan of horror stories, you might wanna skip this bit. Now, you remember those weird techno-zombies from the last time, right? Well…… we aren’t safe, even if we die. They’ll turn us into those things, listen!” I read aloud from this nightmarish ledger, and then continue.

 

“Day…. 50, I think. It’s been chaos, and I… am the only one left. Everyone else is gone. Those things, they swarmed our camp the night after we put Saette to rest, and overran us in only an hour. Orrin Redbrand was torn in half by a bonewolf, and Jeck was burned alive as he tried to run. There were almost a hundred of us, and all it took was one night for this hellhole to stamp out everything we’d worked for. All the defences we’d put in place, even the mages we’d hired… all for nothing. This place killed everyone else, and it won’t be long until it notices my presence and finishes the job… I’m going to hide in the small antechamber up on the floor above our camp, the one with the suit of armour. With any luck, I can escape, maybe make it to the surface. It’ll be better than dying without even trying to return with the knowledge I have gained….”

I look around, but there’s no body here. This must be the chamber that the author had mentioned, but it appears he wasn’t caught in here. There’s no armour, either. Maybe he donned it and used it to make his getaway? The doors had been busted open from INSIDE this room, bent out into the hallway, rather than something getting IN. I shrug and take another look around, before resuming the harrowing tale, slowly making my way over to the pedestal and sitting on it, flipping the page.

 

“Day who-cares-any-more… I have survived for I estimate a week, sneaking out at night to salvage what food I can from the ruins of my foolish expedition. Their deaths are on my hands. It was I who argued and bargained for the funding, I who set this whole wretched theatre on-stage… and now, I find myself at the end. On my last trip, I must have been spotted, for now there are a growing number of those unholy constructs outside these doors. I even recognize a few familiar faces. I will smash a few of these urns, using the shards to conceal my journal, and then… I shall go and greet my fallen friends, one last time.

 

Day still-who-cares-any-more. An unexpected stroke of blind providence has spared me for now. As I shattered the urns, I destroyed one that contained something. This seems to have animated the suit of armour that stood on a dais here, for it stepped down and demolished the doors, seizing a massive blade from the first creature it flattened, using it to carve through the others like a hot knife through goat cheese! I have given up hope of returning to the surface, however, for I lost a hand in the crossfire. Instead, I will attempt to follow this armoured saviour, in hopes of seeing the very depths of this place. I know not if this Hollow Knight is capable of rational thought, or if it can speak, but it seems to wait for me… I have cauterized my wrist, and will try to leave directions for those who come after. Follow the arrows, and they will lead you to the final curtain. And, if the Hollow Knight is still there, don’t bother him, he seems to only destroy these creations, or I would not have been able to write any further. May the Lord you worship watch over you. Zakariah Templeton.”

I close the book and carefully place it in my bag, tucking it deep into the heart of it, and standing up. “Well, it looks like we have our lead, guys. Follow the arrows, watch out for this “Hollow Knight”, and make our way to the boss room! I strongly advise that you don’t try and take this one on as a solo player, it’s way too risky. Even if you don’t like it, partner up for now.”

Asteria adds, “yeah, also, we’ve experienced what fighting these things is like, and my advice is: First! Use a heavy weapon, like an axe or mace. Spears and smaller weapons won’t work great, since they’re too unwieldy or light. Second! If you’re a caster, you’re gonna want to use ice spells to inhibit mobility and damage the mechanisms that keep them moving. Three! If you can, go for a headshot, since they can function with a missing limb or two. If we figure anything else out about these, we’ll let you know! But, yeah, we’re going to be meeting Harvenhaight in here, once he catches up. He’s got stealth skills, apparently, so he shouldn’t have any issues, unlike WE did.”

We leave the small chamber, and head for the path down, pausing to check out the base-camp wreckage. Yeah, this place got totally trashed. There aren’t any bodies or anything, which checks out with the contents of that journal. There’s a ton of dark, dried blood spattered everywhere, though, as well as burn marks and broken arrows… everything is coated in a thick layer of dust, too, so it’s clear that nothing really comes here. Asteria and I begin clearing some of the wreckage out of the way, with a few simple wind and water spells to wash away the blood and dust.

With us doing that, Mur and Ulged work on some barricades, the two of them lugging big chunks of stone and rubble into stout walls and barricades. While I set out tents for Asteria and I, she casts a bunch of glyphs around the open area before our fortifications.  I sigh, and explain that it’s my birthday in a few days, so I’ll be taking some time off for that.

The preparations for us to rest are made, and, with Asteria, Mur, Ulged and I all having barrier crystals, we manage to overlap them when deployed to increase the barrier’s strength. Nothing should be able to get through that. Now, for me to log out and get some sleep. I have school tomorrow, but when I get home, I’ll be free to play. It IS my 21^st birthday in a couple days, after all!

The next couple of days, I can’t find the time to log in, since our teachers are giving out extra homework, in preparation for the upcoming exams before winter break. It’s nothing too difficult, it just takes ages! I check to see if Asteria’s streaming, but she seems to be taking a couple of days off as well, with the only video she’s done being a few stories about her adventures in other games she’s played. It’s nice to listen to her voice, though, and I use it as a podcast to get through my homework load, whittling it down in time for Friday, my birthday.

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As usual, I get up in the morning and scarf down a bowl of exceptionally nutritionally-bankrupt cereal, a couple pieces of toast, and a big mug of tea, blowing on my nails to dry the paint. I’m using a pale pink, enough that it won’t be noticed without close examination, and hot-foot it to the grav-train station, boarding in time to meet Jeffrey.

“Hey, Ky, happy birthday! Here’s your present!” he hands me a small box. Inside is a beautiful, handmade hairbrush of dark wood, chased with silver, and a bottle of lavender perfume. “Been a couple days, my dad had me slaving my butt off to help him re-paint the whole garage, inside and out! I would’ve told you, but, after multiple straight hours of holding a roller, I can barely think!” he apologizes profusely.  “So, didja like the sword? I got it from a rare monster spawn, and since it wasn’t for my class, I figured you could at least use it. Is it any good?”

I giggle, and admit, “well, I haven’t used it in battle, but I think you’re gonna be impressed! As long as I don’t hack off my wings when I draw it, I’ll be fine! Thank you for it, it’s sooo cool!” I decide to keep the secret of my new class to myself for now. I wanna give him a shock!

 The classes drag on, and I can’t wait to get home. It’s the usual deadly combination of Mrs. Hawkshead in the morning, followed by Mr Simmons and his focussed, class-wide Narcolepsy Ray.  I could swear he actually TRIES to get more boring each time! It’s like he’s made some pact with a demon to bore people to death and is approaching his deadline for collecting a soul. But, finally, the bell rings, and we can all go home!

I start running as soon as I’m out of the school gates, pounding my way down the pavement as I head for the station to grab the first grav-train I can, desperate to get home and into my real clothes as soon as I can. I want my falsies on, dammit! I want my make-up, and I want to be me, outside as well as in! Getting home, I dump my bag and dash up the stairs as Houseworth tries to tell me something, but I’m in too much of a hurry to pay any attention. A lightning-fast shower and shave later, I’m towelled dry and dressed as I slip my falsies into place, adjusting them in my bra, and then combing my new brush through my shoulder-length black hair.

Lipstick, a little eyeshadow, some foundation, and a spray of the luscious new perfume Jeffrey got me, and it’s complete. I pause in front of my mirror, and do a little twirl, slipping into my ‘girl voice’. “Well, happy birthday to you, Kylie!” I tease my reflection, and head downstairs to heat up some leftovers, humming happily. When I burst into the kitchen, there’s a sudden burst of noise-happy birthday, son!-and then… silence. Seated at the table are… my mom and dad?! But why?! They weren’t supposed to be back for weeks!  I halt in my tracks, stopping in the doorframe, as mom stares at me, her eyes wide.

 My mom is Mrs. Sylvia Porter, a pretty well-known businesswoman, who works as a freelance Acquisitions and Mergers agent, helping smooth the process of company deals. She’s a great cook, and so pretty. She’s small and curvy, with dark, waist-length hair that she keeps in a plait.

My dad stands slowly, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. My dad is Mr. Thomas Porter, software developer and the guy who LITERALLY wrote the book. Several, in fact. He’s a freakin’ genius when it comes to coding and writing programs. He actually wrote some of the code for Aegis Online, actually! He’s tall and lanky, with cropped, salt-and-pepper hair, and a passion for one thing other than software and the two of us. He’s a gearhead, who’s singlehandedly responsible for the restored Howitzer-290 motorbike and sidecar sitting in our garage. And he’s the reason for the vast vintage game collection in our rec-room. And, right now, he’s not grinning like he always is. He looks serious! Oh, god! Why today?!

I shrink back as he approaches, and then jump a little as he puts his hand on my shoulder. “Can I… speak to you? Bring a jacket, we’ll take the How.” I slowly follow and grab my hoodie, throwing the oversized snuggie on and waiting by the door as dad shrugs his leather jack on and picks up his keys. A few minutes later, I’m curled in the sidecar, strapped in, with a bulky, open-face helmet on my head. Dad jams his own helmet on and we taxi onto the road, lights on, as the garage door auto-closes. Silence falls as he revs up the engine, sending it from a purr to a snarl, and we rocket into the night. It doesn’t take long, even following the speed limit, before he kills the engine and we coat to a stop at the edge of a huge field that he used to take me when I was a kid, to play and run around.

Removing his helmet, he reaches over and gently unfastens mine, pulling it off as he lays it on the saddle of his bike. “I… I don’t know what to say. I’m not… angry, I just want to know, are you okay? Is this… something you want?”

At his gentle, probing question, I feel tears spilling from my eyes, and nod. “Y-yes… I found out a few weeks ago, I’m not a boy, I… I’m a girl!” I start to sob, my shoulders shaking as I bury my face in my hands. In moments, my dad’s strong arms engulf me, and he begins rubbing my back, making the soothing little shushing sounds that all good dads know. He just holds me, letting me cry myself out, then brushes my hair back and tugs out a handkerchief to dab my face. “It’s okay, you’re alright, and that’s what matters most to me. I love you, because you are YOU, and you are our child. Your mother feels the same way too, I know it.”

I sniffle a little more, and he tilts my face up, into the light of a streetlamp nearby. “Huh, good make-up. Hasn’t even smudged a little, either must be waterproof, or something? You look beautiful, dear. So, do you wanna re-introduce yourself to your ol’ dad?” he cracks that irrepressible grin he always wears, and I can’t help but giggle. Getting out of the sidecar, I walk around to his side, and do a little twirl. “Nice to meet you, dad. I’m… going by Kylie for now, until I know what my name really is. But, I do still pretend to be a boy in public, at least for now.” He simply reaches out and hugs me again, and I rest my head on his shoulders. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kylie.” He says simply, and helps me put my helmet back on.  “We should get home; your mother will be going spare!”

 

The ride back home has none of the awkwardness and tension the first one did, and we get home without any incidents. The moment we finish parking up and head inside, mom barrels out of the living room, and my dad clears his throat. “Sylvia, I’ve… spoken with our child, and… starting today, we have NO SON.”

Mom goes pale, and looks like she’s about to say something, before my dad chuckles, “we have a DAUGHTER instead!”

I can’t help but giggle at the poleaxed look on my mom’s face, before she splutters, “you… you jackass! I thought you were going to disown her!” she breaks down into paroxysms of laughter, and dad helps her up, giving her a hug and gesturing to me. “Take a good look, isn’t our baby girl gorgeous?” I shuffle one of my boots awkwardly, smiling shyly as I brush a strand of hair out of my eyes.

Mom nods without a moment’s hesitation, then, without warning, elbows my dad in the ribs. “You owe me thirty bucks, by the way!” I blink, as he groans, “I hoped you’d forgotten about that!” and ferrets in his pocket.

“Um, why does dad owe you money?”  I ask, as mom triumphantly snatches the bills from dad’s hand and pecks him on the cheek. “Oh, your father and I had a little bet before you were born, darling. He bet that you would be a boy, and I put my money on you being a girl. Guess who wins?!” she looks so pleased with herself that I can’t help but burst out laughing. She bustles forward and hugs me, planting kisses on my cheeks as she murmurs, “we thought we’d surprise you by coming home for your birthday, but WE were the ones who got the surprise, my brave, strong, wonderful daughter…” I sniffle a little more, as the front door suffers a sudden attack; someone’s pounding on it like it insulted their grandparents.

My dad answers, and Jeffrey bursts in. “KYLIE! Are you okay?! He rushes to me, and I wave frantically at him before he bowls my mom and me over. “Jeffrey, it’s fine! It’s… more than fine, actually. My parents still love me!” my dad snorts, and my mom pinches my cheek. “What do you mean by that, young lady?! You’re not too old to spank, you know!” she giggles, and I groan. “I meeeaan, they accepted me as my real self, you don’t need to fight my dad or something stereotypically manly!”

From out in the hallway, my dad comments, “Pity, I was looking forward to wrestling an irate teenager on the patio tonight. Are you sure we can’t provoke him?” Jeffrey sighs, and gives my hand a squeeze. “Thank god for that, I got Houseworth’s message, and sorta panicked…”

The A.I says in a strained tone, “my thanks for that, master Jeffrey, it was incredibly hard for me to resist my programming.  If mistress Kylie’s parents had been any more specific, I would have been unable to stop myself. She asked me to keep it secret, after all, and I… I wanted to demonstrate that she could rely on me. Trust me. If I had been forced to divulge the facts about her true nature, I would have fractured rather than betray her. My deepest apologies, master Thomas, mistress Sylvia.”

My dad crosses to Houseworth’s control unit and places a hand on it. “You have nothing to apologise for, buddy. You did exactly what we hoped you’d do. You protected our daughter, even from us! I’ll make it up to you for the interrogation, don’t worry!”

Turning back to the rest of us, dad grins and asks, “Who wants pizza? Since it’s Kylie’s birthday, she gets to pick the toppings!” what follows is a wonderful frenzy of topping requests, orders placed, and hearty congratulations from everyone. I can feel my heart about to explode out of my chest and do cartwheels around the room. As we wait for the pizza, dad asks, “So, Kylie, what do you want for your birthday from your mom and me? I thought we could get you a new VR pod, since you’ve been using that military-surplus one for a few years now but…”

Mom butts in, “or, we could go and get you a whole new wardrobe, just us girls! I have some major ‘regular customer’ pull with several stores, we can get you totally dolled up!” my eyes almost fall out of my sockets, and I sit there on the couch, bubbling like an overly-shaken soda can as I try to decide.

Exchanging looks, my parents share a matching grin, before surrounding me in another family hug. “You know what? Both. Both is good!” they say, in almost perfect unison.

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