11 – The Path of Gold and Silver

First of all, Ashley needed to take control back into her own hands. She took a deep breath and reached for the threads of her magic.

[Tier One Magic].

She scrolled through her mental interface. She found a utility spell sitting at the edge of her immediate memory.

“[Cleansing].”

A gentle breeze swirled around her. It carried the scent of lavender and wild roses. The bloodstains on her dress dissolved into nothing. The grease vanished from her fingers. Her hair settled neatly against her shoulders. It was tidier than it had been in hours.

“Much better.”

She touched the golden door. It was warm and smooth. Then she touched the silver one. It was rough. It bit into her fingertips with a spite that felt personal.

Something in her newly discovered core went quiet. Not peaceful quiet. The quiet of a held breath, the quiet that preceded the storm, and her fingers clenched, scraping the paint with her fingernails.

What is this? This feels wrong.

She pulled her hand away.

“What lies behind these doors?”

“No secrets here,” Vivi said. “The golden one will take you straight to the Floating City. That’s where you’ll find yourself. No pun intended. It leads to my old shop. From there, perhaps you can find your way to the other Celestine. If she is still there.”

So. I should take this one. What could matter more than finding the other me?

“The other door,” Vivi continued. Her voice dropped an octave. “It will take you to a place ruined by the foolhardiness of men. Those who thought they could control nature without a thought to the consequences.”

She blinked at Simon.

He pointed a thumb at his own chest. Something like recognition crossed his face, grim and reluctant.

A hard knock rattled the front door of the shop, and Vivi smiled. Her hand was already on the handle. She yanked it open. Two men stood there. Sweat trailed down their brows.

“How many this time?” Vivi asked.

“Three. Same as always. We found them. They don’t speak. They just mumble nonsense.”

“Very well. Bring them in. You know the way.”

The men entered. Six others followed them. They carried three unmoving patients on stretchers. The victims were flushed and feverish. They moved toward the back room in an orderly way. They were clearly familiar with the layout of the house.

“The same as before. That fever.” Ashley’s eyes tracked the stretchers as they passed. “What is causing that?”

“That’s something you can fix, if you choose the silver route. This fever is spreading throughout the country and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.”

“I see. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“Not much,” Vivi replied, as Paco stood and planted himself in front of the silver door. Vivi caressed his snout. “I’m quite busy, as you see. I’ve got to take care of these new people. But if you choose this door, Paco will help you. Isn’t that right?”

Paco moved his snout up and down in a nod far too deliberate to be accidental.

“Good boy. I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

She pulled the silver door open. Paco entered with a heavy, uneasy step. Ashley peered through the opening and saw only a consuming darkness. Thin, jagged trails of ice crept across the floor, finding their way into the warm shop.

“What do you think, Aury?” Ashley asked, her gaze moving between the radiant gold and the biting silver.

One door offered answers. Her own identity. The chance to confront the shadow wearing her face. No guarantees. Maybe only more questions at the end of the golden road.

The other door offered a solution to a plague. But was it worth the detour? In a world built of data, how much did a few lines of corrupted code actually matter?

“Your choice, mistress. I will follow you no matter what path you tread,” Aury said.

Ashley looked at Simon and Agata. Their faces carried emotions that felt far too raw to be simulated. The way their breathing hitched in the cold air. The set of their shoulders. Everything was too imperfect, too messy to be the product of a cold silicon calculation.

She thought of the crowd in the square. The rows of people in the temple. What was her word worth if she abandoned them now, after everything she had said out there? Was she really so hollow that she could walk away simply because she was afraid?

Her shoulders dropped. The tension bled out all at once. She stepped through the silver door, and as the darkness took her, she felt the weight of the moment settle: the time for play was over.

I swear, video games these days are just something else.

The cold hit first. Aury’s faint golden glow pushed back the dark just enough to show the shape of the place.

They stood in a tunnel ten feet wide. Every surface was enclosed in ice. Hundreds of jagged icicles hung from the ceiling. Frozen teeth ready to drop at the slightest disturbance.

“It’s quite chilly here. [Inventory]. [Tiger Winter Cloak].”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The silk lining brushed against her skin. A wave of heat radiated from the fabric, cocooning her against the cold. It was like stepping into a hot bath on a cold morning.

Play the game, Ashley. This is just a game.

She rubbed her hands together. Her breath bloomed in thick white clouds. “A bloody cold game at that.”

“May I suggest wearing something like gloves, your holiness?”

“I’ve checked the inventory. I don’t have gloves. Just another cloak. This was always enough to preserve HP in cold areas. I never knew Celestine’s hands were so sensitive!”

She muttered the last part to herself. She reached out to press her palm against Paco’s scaly, warm neck. The dragon was almost purring when he snapped his head toward the door.

An instant later, a man in a thin dark robe landed bottom-first on the ice. He gave a muffled yelp. Father Simon. He scrambled upright and turned toward the silver door just as it began to fade into the frozen wall.

“That vial of pink liquid had better still be full to the brim when I come back! Agata! Do you hear me?!”

The door clicked shut.

“Well met, buddy. Everything all right?” Aury’s light shifted as he spoke. His tone carried a warmth: a resonance that was almost entirely mockery.

Simon turned. His hands went immediately to his own shoulders. “Agata suggested I follow you,” he said. His teeth were already chattering. “With some conviction.”

He looked around the cavern. His lips were already turning blue. “Frosty down here.”

Ashley reached into her storage. She pulled out her second cloak: a heavy orange and white-furred beauty crafted from two-headed foxes.

It had cost a fortune in gold. She usually kept it for high-stakes quests involving nobility. The power buffs were good but down here she doubted she would need it. It would at least keep him from freezing to death.

“Do you have weapons, at least?”

“Um. Not really,” the priest said. He pulled the fur around his shoulders. He looked like a bouncer wearing a ballgown.

“Seriously? What did you think you were doing? You don’t dive into a dungeon like this. First rule: always have your gear ready. Here. Take this. [God’s Bane].”

She tossed the legendary sword toward him as if it were a kitchen knife. It was useless to her current build anyway.

The priest caught the hilt. As his fingers closed around the grip, his arm thrummed with power at the contact. The ancient power of the blade surged through him. Light from the etched runes caught in his wide eyes, casting a cold blue glow across his face.

“Oh, yeah. This is good. This will definitely do!” Simon exclaimed. He tested the weight with a few experimental slashes and stabs. The blade hummed as it cut through the stagnant air.