Chapter 3: Chapter 2 – Pursuit of Understanding

Malachi Armstrong

 

Standing among the gathered crowd, Malachi wondered why it seemed so often people repeated themselves in conversations. He understood on some level that currently it was no doubt reassuring to the sixty of them. Voicing their concerns and repeating the same stories to release the building panic. Things had gotten interesting for a while when the laughing woman with black hair had joined the group along with the redhead. The two of them had brought some levity to this utterly strange experience of waking underground in an ancient ruin. Of course, they had done that by teasing him as much as the laughter they brought with them. Well, the redhead did at least, he decided.  The one with black hair… Julia...  I think it was… she was a little too strained like the others for her attempts at levity to hit.

Malachi noted while scratching his beard, that while most of the sixty had come to join their shifting mass of the bewildered, two individuals stood out amongst those who were a satellite to the bulk of them. Those two had decided to ignore the impulse of safety in numbers, but instead decided to study different parts of the hall. A tall, thin man stood perfectly still, staring at the words carved beside the great door. The other was near the arcane machinery, slowly moving about to study one of the thingamajigs that looked like a screen, along with what it was attached to. A wave of curiosity and a little bit of envy drifted through him.

Waking up to the bare stone at his back and a false sky of paint had been a shock for him too. Still, despite that initial surprise, Malachi’s first instinct had been to explore the hall. The secrets of the sights had been very tantalizing to him, but it wasn’t in his nature to ignore others. Before long he had gathered some of the sixty together with calming words. It had brought warmth to his heart to see the fear in their eyes fade as they shared in each other’s plight. This had led to the repeating conversations as, like him, they all only remembered going to bed before waking in the hall. 

Seeing that everyone was now in better spirits, Malachi moved for a visit with those already seeking out the secrets of the hall. Impulse decided him towards the man at the door first. A few from the gathering called out to him in concern. They smiled back once he assured them. Reminding them of the safety in the group, he promised to return. It was heartwarming to the bearded man that he had become a touchstone of security to them. 

By the doors, the tall man stood in flickering shadows cast by the torchlight. Ghostly yellow flames that were illuminating the huge doors and those forbidding words. The entire time Malachi was heading to the man ahead there was no movement. Not a twitch nor even the appearance of breathing. The eeriness of the still man filled him with enough trepidation that his steps slowed as the distance narrowed. He came to stand beside the thin man and shared a look at the carved words. The silence then lingered long enough that Malachi cleared his throat to draw some attention. More time passed and he found himself ignored again.

“Uh Hi…  I’m Malachi,” he said with some uncertainty.

For a couple of breaths, the other didn’t react; only continued to stare at the carved words. That grim man’s eyes were the only movement of life as they traced each word at a time. When the still man broke his concentration from the words, Malachi felt it. The shift of the man’s attention apparent before his head even began to turn. The man’s will was palpable as the tall man considered him with frightening pressure. “... I am John Harken,” replied the man with intensity.

At first, Malachi thought he had found the first person without a youthful face. Comparing the other sixty had presented a similarity in that their faces all had about the same degree of youth. If he had to guess, the bearded man would have to say everyone was now in their twenties. This was odd, as the chatter from the other sixty had hinted that they were of similar ages to him, some had seemed older too. This had made him wonder how much age had disappeared from his forty five year old face. Harken’s face lacked the fullness of youth. Between the dancing of flame born shadows and his serious countenance, there was an impression of veritable age. A gaunt man.

The moment passed and revealed a face of hard-line despite an equal youthfulness. Harken gave off the aura of a dark priest from the intensity to his Mediterranean skin and long black hair that laid lankly upon his head. Dark feverish eyes waited painfully for Malachi to explain his presence.

“I noticed you over here, preoccupied by those… words, and I wondered if you were seeing something I didn’t,” offered Malachi to John Harken’s intense attention.

“I am looking for a pattern in these new Commandments,” replied Harken.

Thinking to continue the conversation, he asked, “Commandments?... what patterns do you see?”

“What else would you call those heavy words?” John stated seriously. “I have never been a religious man, not enough order to their stories nor any efficiency in their dogmas. These words … Are worthy of that title. Rules to guide our survival, I think. Through the Commandments, I think I am beginning to see the shape of what has become of us. Something extraordinary has happened, and we can’t yet say why, yet a purpose is promised.  “You are here for a purpose.” That speaks volumes to me.”

“Yeah… I’m right there with you on that one,” agreed Malachi. “Reading that the first time was like a gut punch. A confirmation that whoever, however, I came here, it was no accident. What is the shape of the circumstances that you see for us?”

“This is a trial of some sort,” explained John. “The Commandments speak of our limits being tested and then they give us a goal that is promised to have meaning. I think someone has brought us here to run through a gauntlet of some sort. The big question for me at this moment… how real is this?”

“Real? Seems pretty real to me,” offered Malachi. “Checking if this was a dream was one of the first things I did. Probably most of the sixty of us did as well. A pinch hurts and while this place could fit a dream of mine with all the games I play, those paintings are beyond me. Well, the sky one at least… too sad, too real frankly… I can feel the artist’s longing to see the blue sky again.”

“It is a haunting sight indeed…” replied John quietly. “I don’t believe this is a dream more than you do, but I doubt the reality of the place in another way. This body… it is too young and… to be honest, too healthy. I was never this in shape in my twenties, yet here I stand before you. Thin as a stick, but I feel no more brittle than strong steel.”

“Yeah... I noticed the same… uh, thing,” admitted Malachi frowning. “I was in shape in my twenties, though that was still two decades or so behind me. Also… I think I might be stronger than I was at my peak. I haven't been able to test that yet, but that’s how I feel.”

“The nature of our new bodies makes everything we see suspect,” remarked John. “Considering everything, I am working on the theory that we are dead and this is some afterlife none predicted. Perhaps this is the final test before the ultimate judgment.”

“So, you think this is some kind of sorting trial then?” doubted Malachi. “That theory of us being dead seems like quite the leap to me. As far as I can tell, I have all the same sensations as I did before. Plus everyone in that group I just left has the same last memory of going to bed. I doubt all of us died in our sleep and as young as most of us seemed to have been. I was only forty five myself.”

“A working theory is what I said,” cautioned John.

Malachi nodded and added a thought, “Could we be in some virtual reality? Instead of some video game afterlife?”

“It’s possible I suppose,” considered John. “Unlikely with the level of technology we would be dealing with. I would note that theory would also suggest that they had the ability to modify memory, or it would be at least a side effect. Either would be concerning if true. Though, not as much as being dead, I suppose.”

Malachi laughed at the wry expression the other man was giving him. “So currently, we have a theory that we’re all seeing dead people or were all mind-controlled game testers.”

“That is one way to put it,” smiled Harken, his gaunt face pulled back in an oddly pleasant way. “An absolutely silly way to put a serious situation, but I do like it.” The two of them chuckled over the theories created to explain the bizarre state of affairs the sixty of them had found themselves in. After the laughter died, John thoughtfully added, “Hmmm… let me ask you… How many people are here?”

Without thinking Malachi responded, “Sixty.”

“How do you know that?” inquired John, turning serious again. “Did you count us?” 

“Huh… no I didn’t,” answered Malach confused. “The moment I woke up… I knew and thought of there being sixty of us…. That’s disturbing.”

“Yes, yes it is,” admitted Harken. “A point for the mind-controlled testers theory... Perhaps I will take you as an example and see what I can learn from the others. More information like this sixty knowledge will sharpen our understanding of the shape of things to come.”

“Yeah, alright,” Malachi said as he searched for any more to glean from the thin man. “Before you go… did you try the door?”

“No,” said John simply. He gave the door a quick and suspicious look as he left for the gathering.

Malachi looked at the leaving man’s back with confusion. I’m surprised Harken didn’t test that himself already, he thought. The door is as important as the Commandments. Was he... maybe… afraid it would start something? Cautiously he headed for the door, as it loomed over him. Malachi placed his hand on the door and was surprised by the texture. From afar it had seemed made with wood and metal. The feel of it told him that the material was closer to some kind of rock. The patterns that had invoked the thought of wood were runic designs repeating across the surface. Knocking lightly gave him the impression that it was very dense; rivaling some steel he had done the same with once. It was the knocking that alerted him to the hush. Turning his head just enough to look over his shoulder, Malachi saw that everyone had gone quiet while they watched him interact with the great door.

To allay fears, he turned completely around with a grin and a thumbs up. There was, however, little response to this gesture. Malachi shrugged to himself and went back to the door. With both hands on the door, one on each side of where it parted. He took in a deep breath and pushed. A sheen of light passed through the door, top to bottom, rumbling against his hands. Regret painted his face as the door reacted and then became perplexed when the great door went still. Words unbidden by him formed in his head. 

 

ALL MUST CHOOSE BEFORE THE WAY WILL BE UNLOCKED

 

Rubbing the back of his head, Malachi considered the statement that had invaded his mind. It was related to his attempt to open the door, but he wasn’t sure what they meant yet. What choice does this place want us to make? he considered. I imagine this choice must be obvious… it’s not something we make without knowing. After the door and the Commandments, the next thing to look into… He gave those behind him another thumbs up and headed toward the individual that seemed to be perusing something on the screens.

To his surprise, the light of the screens didn’t clarify as he got closer. For a second, Malachi thought maybe he needed glasses, but a longer look seemed to suggest something else. He could make out a second sheen of light that appeared between him and the screen as he got close enough. A few experiments showed it subtly inserting itself and disappearing when he moved about. When Malachi was finished amusing himself with the effect, he walked up to the other man. Opening the conversation, he asked, “Can you see the screen clearly?”

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The man at the screen had dark skin. Malachi was reminded of different cultures' claims of people being made of clay or stone. If that kind of myth was told about this man, it would be of obsidian made flesh. This impression was helped by the smoothness of the man’s shaved head and the stony face that turned to hold eye contact. Those eyes were alight with life, but the face around it was close to that of a mask. “I can see,” replied the obsidian man. “Can you not?”

“No, there’s some kind of interference being placed between the screen and me,” explained Malachi.

The other man muttered, “Interesting... A privacy system… It also knew me… some kind of biometric reader?” 

The eyes of the other flickered between Malachi’s face and the screen as his body began to turn back towards the glow. Realizing he was losing the attention of the man before him, Malachi introduced himself to buy time. 

“Hello Malachi, I am Damian Franklin,” replied the obsidian man in a tone different than before. That reply felt like a phrase someone had practiced to say perfectly, but it was still a little off. As if following a script Damian added, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well I noticed you over here...  and I wanted to see what you may have figured out,” answered Malachi. “I was just talking to John Harken about the Commandments… always good to pool information when you are trying to figure out something hard. This place offers up a pretty big mystery to us.”

Damian nodded along with him. With some subdued glee in his words, said, “There is much to puzzle out here.”

“Um… what have you puzzled out?” pushed Malachi to continue the conversation.

The eyes of the other man dropped the hold on his own and rocked about while thinking. “Well, the language of the screens and… the Commandments? Good name, bible reference… None of them are actually English. Something similar to the field protecting my screen from you. It is something that makes it look like English. I found out though. Once I got the method of seeing through right, that I was still able to understand the true shape of the words. Very interesting. Perhaps it is something mental rather than external in that case?”

“Harken pointed out to me that we have already gotten a mental whammy,” added Malachi, encouraged now that he had gotten Damian to talk. “We all have in our heads that there are sixty of us without counting.”

“I had not noticed,” replied the obsidian man. “Counting is just something I do. That does make me wonder what else has been changed or added. For one, I am much better at reading people than I did before. It has become less manual to guess the emotions another feels. Though, I suppose, guessing fear right now is probably  very easy… right?”

“Yeah… it would be a bit easy,” confirmed Malachi. “This place is unsettling to wake up in.”

Damian considered it for a moment, his eyes flickering upwards. “It is very new… and none of my things are here… That is annoying… It may annoy me more later… Right now it has such lovely things to figure out. I am very much looking forward to the book I am getting.”

“What book?” questioned Malachi with some excitement. Maybe it’s a journal! or, or a manifesto or something! 

With the obsidian man now focused back on the screen, Malachi was forgotten with a turn of their body. Damian’s finger moved with a familiarity.This would assure anyone that they functioned in the same manner as a normal touch screen, despite the arcane machinery it was attached to. Not to mention the weirdness of a visual distortion protecting one’s privacy.

After some shifting and tapping, there was a touch that came with a sense of finality. This ended the obsidian man's attention on the screen as he shifted to the dark object to the side. Beside the arcane computer was something that reminded Malachi of a water heater, but this one had a slender silverish handle attached. The dark metal of the structure was set deep into the stone floor. In silence, blue lightning ran across the dark surface entering and highlighting runic carvings that were otherwise unseen.  

“The Principles of External Mana Manipulation by Xavier Ceaitle, The Grand Wizard of Oir’Talafaigh,” answered Damian mildly. Apparently realizing he had never replied to the question. “It comes with other things when I selected my class, or path, as it was called. The system recommended that I become an Acolyte. Seems like that’s the path to become a mage. I have always played as characters with magic.” A real smile formed on his blank face for a moment before the stoic expression returned. “I was just about to choose... before you came up...” 

The lightning caused a shudder of flashing light that blinded Malachi in the gloom. He was able to blink away the image scoured into vision in time to see Damian grasp the handle of the dark metal device. The obsidian man had been smart enough to look away. With his fuzzy vision, Malachi watched the handle pulled to split the dark metal object in half and reveal itself to be a container. The right part of the container swung outwards, in the hollow inside was a dark robe with a hood on a coat hanger. The left side was constructed with several shelves of varying sizes. Only two shelves had anything on them. One of the small top shelves had a book that was a cross between a grimoire and a college textbook. The middle shelf was large and had a style of bag reminiscent of what was often labeled as an “Adventurer's Pack.” 

Quickly Damian snatched the book from the shelf and flipped the cover to the first page. He continued to read while absent-mindedly throwing the robe and the bag’s strap over his shoulder. With a purpose, the obsidian man turned and pointed himself towards the back of the hallway. Malachi stole a glance over the other’s shoulder to see that the pages were filled with a lot of writing in small font and diagrams of an esoteric nature. 

“Where are you going?” called out Malachi to the departing man.

“My room,” explained Damian, half turning back. “The first thing the system asked me to do. I just grabbed the first one… I’m done with that computer… you can use it.” Once he was done speaking, the obsidian scholar continued on his way towards one of the two hallways at the back of the great hall. Taking the left hallway, Damian disappeared into the first indention on the left. The door lazily closed behind the new Acolyte and left Malachi on his own again. 

“Well… I can say that there are some interesting characters among the people I’m stuck here with…” Malachi said to himself. Mostly amused by the interaction.

His eyes were pulled like magnets to the glowing screen that was no longer distorted to his vision. In the upper middle of the screen was a stylized symbol of an arrow striking the sun from below. Under that emblem was a greeting, “Hello, Please Register Here.” A chill ran through his body bringing with it sensation close to vertigo at this surreal sight. In this dread dungeon full of mystery, arcane devices, and sci-fi machines, there was suddenly this very normal phrase. A blast of modern convention that rang homesickness like a bell in his heart. The words filled Malachi with the certainty that home was far away, both physically and temporally.

It had come on its own, but Malachi allowed himself to stew in the morose anguish of being separated from home. Sighing, he pulled himself out of that cold and comfortable place. Enough moping… keep moving… you need more information, thought Malachi to get his head back on track. He moved into the glow and touched the screen. A warmth washed over him and back from the point he was touching the device. A loading symbol in the shape of a spiral spooled before the screen changed to the words, “Speak Your Name To Finish Registration.”

“Malachi Armstrong.” 

The spiral appeared again for a time. A new message came up, “Pick A Room.” Under the request was a simple floor plan showing that the two hallways at the back of the great hall had thirty rooms each. The room that was labeled L1 was grayed out and Malachi assumed that it must be Damian’s room. With a little debate, he picked L2. There seemed little point in picking one over another. Each room had everything you needed according to the description. “Room L2 Has Been Assigned To You,” flashed across the screen for a beat and then the spiral took over again.

What came next, he guessed, was the main screen. There was a menu similar to a shop in a video game that offered options of buy or sell. Next to that was a section that looked like a currency counter that was labeled cores. The one that caught his eye was flashing for his attention as it highlighted the words Class Path.

There were other options, but they were currently unavailable. When he selected the smithy or other grayed out options the screen would display, “Warning: Disabled Until Floor Five Is Cleared.” The shop opened when pressed, though there was a banner across the top recommending that he should immediately choose a Class Path. There were tabs for several categories, from food to weapons to even stuff animals. Everything was given a “Core Cost,” but no explanation for what that meant. He only found one item that cost a single “core” and that was in the food tab. A ration, the picture was of a white biscuit looking object that was described as everything you needed for an entire day. So… is it like lembas bread? considered Malachi. The menu… the weapons… the potions… are cores, does it mean monster cores? Well… that's another point towards the virtual game theory…

A quick scroll through tabs informed him of a few things. Any food you could think of could be ordered, the fancier and more complex the ingredients, the more cores it would cost. In the end, for one core you could get a ration, which in theory was all you needed. 

On the other hand, Malachi pointed out to himself that twenty cores could get you a basic hot fudge sundae and that was just the tip of the iceberg. Most of the other tabs followed the same pattern set by the food tab. Armor and weapons were a little different. Every basic form that weapons and armor could take was found ready for purchase with a little customization. The items that were of higher quality, were just recipes or at least suggestions of one. Taking the information in, he put that aside for future thought. At the moment, nothing could really be accessed. He had no cores nor any of the monster parts the recipes asked for. 

Monsters… seems monsters are confirmed. Go team Full Dive VR, I guess, doubtfully decided Malachi.

Enthusiastically Malachi finally selected the flashing Class Path. He felt wry amusement at the idea of picking a class for real and not just for a game. What fan of fantasy, whether books, games, or whatever, hadn’t dreamed of being a user of magic or a master of the sword. Those dreams welled up in a collage of images. Of all those things he could become if this fantasy was as real as it seemed. He smiled with the thrill of an impossible dream suddenly becoming realized. For a time, all worries faded from his heart 

Before him there were a few options that one could call base classes. Archer, Warrior, Brawler, and Acolyte were what he had to choose from. He was tempted to pick the Warrior class for the sword aspect as that was strong in his dreams of living the fantasy life, but the Acolyte option was glowing gold on the screen. It was labeled as recommended. The image of a sword was still strong in his mind as Malachi touched the icon of the Acolyte class for more information. The description was brief in that all it stated was that the class was for the study of external mana manipulation. It listed what came with the class and the choices one could make. First was the book that Damian had been excited for, the second was five days of the basic rations with a canister of water, the third was a choice of various robes, capes, or similar armors, and the final item was the weapons options for the Acolyte.

Looking through options, Malachi picked the cloak with a hood for freedom of movement and the cool factor. The one he picked out was green with gold trimmings. The weapons offered were different staffs, rods, and wands. He frowned at the limited options of the typical magic user and was annoyed that unlike in tabletop games there wasn’t an option for a sword. Didn’t matter what a wizard had in hand when doing magic and it was sure nice having the option to defend one’s self with cold steel. Annoyed, he tabbed repeatedly through options unable to decide. 

A sword, he grumbled to himself. Gandalf used a sword and he was the best of wizards! 

With a sigh, he accepted that maybe the staff or a rod could do the job if necessary. Wands were a little silly for his tastes. The screen glitched under his fingers as the tapping brought Malachi back to the beginning again. For some reason, there was a new option. It was labeled “stone sword” and the description explained it as a mage’s friend in a close fight. Malachi smiled and wasted no time in selecting it to finish his class choice. 

The blue lightning flashed from the dark container and soon he had his hand on the stone sword. It was gray like granite, but felt like polished ivory. Every inch carved with one big runic design that left only the sharp edges clean. Malachi liked it immediately, and immensely.

The sword came with a plain leather sheath and belt. He strapped that on along with putting the cloak on. The new Acolyte did feel a little silly with his new gear, but he had the feeling they were going to have to get comfortable with it. The lightning had attracted the attention of the group. Many of their faces were already turned towards him as Malachi returned.

I hope they don’t hold it against me how all this is going to sound,” thought Malachi as he scanned the concerned faces. It’s going to be a hell of an experience, here on out. Fun maybe, but hell, I think, is the keyword.

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