Samson’s brow rises. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I just remembered.” Taking a deep breath, I wince. “I ordered a better axe from Austin the day after our first time in the mines. It’s been over a week. I completely forgot to follow up with him. In game, it only takes three days to finish a tool upgrade.”
Samson’s other brow rises to meet the first, then he puffs a laugh. “Well. I guess we know the first thing you’re doing this morning.”
My eyes widen.
“Let’s pay Austin a visit.”
I have no words to express how deeply Ido not want to do that, so I merely toddle after Samson when he hits the road toward town.
~ ~
“I put a letter in your box to let you know it was done,” Austin grumbles, arms folded across his leather apron. “Do you not know how to read?”
My grip on my new axe tightens.
Samson’s hand falls over mine. “That’s uncalled for, Austin.” Even as he chastises the jerk, his eyes are on me, beaming into my soul a very clear message:do not hack his head off with your new axe, Lemonade; people take damage here.
Austin scoffs. “You’re too nice to realize she’s taking advantage of you, Sammy. Lia and I grew up in Amecrest, so we’ve seen plenty of city kids like her. They think the whole world revolves around them. They’re a cesspool of entitlement and inconsideration.”
In game, axes only deal two points of damage when used as a weapon in the mines…
Even so, I doubt it would take more than one hit to bring Austin’s HP to zero with the realism mod.
So, I mutter, “Actually, you’re wrong. City kids likemeknow nothing revolves around us. We’re just another cog in a capitalist society, grinding away without oil, doing jobs that feel meaningless for too many hours because rent isalwaysdue and there’s never enough money for both it and food unless we take every extra shift and every overtime. City kids likemelive in cramped boxes on top of other cramped boxes packed full of people whose names no one knows because the news is filled with murders and anyone could be a culprit. If you want someone who believes they’re insignificant at the absolute core of their being, find acity kid. If you want entitlement and inconsideration, well…” I snarl, “find a blacksmith.” When Samson’s grip loosens, I turn on my heel and march from the boiling main room of the forge.
Sunshine and cherry blossom petals hit me once I’m outside, and I fill my lungs with the sweet scent of spring air. It hurts to inhale. My whole chest is tight. I’m trembling, so I very carefully slip the axe into my bag while holding back tears.
In the past five years,Vale of Gemsbecame my home. My singular comfort. The reason I woke up each morning.
All throughout my life, I’ve never quitefit in.
I had no friends growing up. No one to keep in touch with from high school. No siblings who bothered to return my texts when I reached out. No parents who cared about any of us more than they cared about themselves.
No matter how hard I tried, I was always looking in at relationships I didn’t know how to find for myself. No matter what I did, that precious, ever-fleeting sense of human connection was always just out of reach.
Here, in the pixelated haven of Gem Ridge, I found a fabrication of closeness and community.
But now that I’mhere, Austin’s attitude is a brutal reminder of all the loneliness and rejection my silly little game helped me escape.
It’s a loudyou don’t belong.
And, given that people normally don’twake up one day in their favorite video game, I’m inclined to believe he’s right.
I don’t belong.
I can’t belong.
This is a fantasy and a dream, and, one day, people wake up from stuff like that.
Magical things are as fragile as joy when monotony is ever looming on the outskirts of that tender emotion.
The door behind me opens, so I force all the Big Feelings down and ready an apology for Samson. Except when I turn toward the door, I’m face-to-face with Austin, who is swearing, because Samson’s bulk dominates the space behind him, his fist clutching the scruff of Austin’s shirt and maneuvering him outside.
“Apologize,” Samson grits into the slew of swears bumbling from Austin’s mouth.
My mouth drops open.
