11 – The Path of Gold and Silver

First things first, let’s get rid of this.

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.

“I never used this before. I wonder… [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.

“Huh. Much better. Now back to us.”

She marched and stared at the two doors, then touched the golden door.

It’s warm. Very warm.

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 and she touched the silver one. It was rough. It bit into her fingertips with a spite that felt personal. But something inside her told her this could guide her somewhere. She didn’t know what it meant. Yet.

“What’s behind these doors?” She asked, pressing her palm on the door feeling its pull to her core..

“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 that one. What could matter more than finding the other me?

But if I’ve learned anything, it’s to always doubt the easiest path.

“And this silver one?” Ashley asked.

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

“Me?” He asked.

But Vivi didn’t answer. She only smiled and raised a finger as if counting. Then a second. Then a third.

She pointed at the front wooden door of her shop and in that instant a hard knock rattled the frame.

Vivi smiled. Her hand was already on the handle.

“Perfect timing,” she said, yanking the door open.

Two men stood there, sweat trailing down their brows. Their faces were dark, as though they had looked death in the eye.

“How many this time?” Vivi asked.

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

“Very well. I’ll try to help, but you know how this is beyond me. Bring them in. You know the way.”

Six men entered carrying three unmoving people on stretchers. The victims were flushed and feverish.

They moved toward the back room in an orderly way, and Ashley understood that they were clearly familiar with the layout of the house.

They seem to come here often.

“The same as before. That fever.” Ashley’s eyes tracked the stretchers as they passed. “Do you know what causes that?”

“That, my dear, is something nobody knows for sure. But I know one thing for certain. That all started when someone messed up with the balance of nature itself, and if you choose the silver route, you might be able to find out what is the truth. This fever is spreading throughout the country and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it.”

“Seriously?” Ashley nodded. She had expected the woman would do something to stir her in the direction she wanted. But she wanted to be the one to decide. “Let’s say I believe you for a moment. What else can you tell me?”

“I told you everything I know,” Vivi replied, as Paco stood and planted himself in front of the silver door. Vivi caressed his snout. “Now I’m quite busy, as you saw. 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 that had started as a game, did a plague still count as real? Once she was out, would any of this have mattered?

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

Should I risk it?

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?

She closed her eyes. Years of gaming had taught her one thing above all else: the straightest path was rarely the right one.

The golden door was warm, inviting, almost eager. It wanted her to choose it. And it felt wrong.

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Her hand found the silver door instead.

My mind and my gut tell me this is the right one. I have to do this. For them.

Her shoulders dropped, and the tension bled out all at once.

Here we go. She cast one last glance at the people she had met there before moving on without a goodbye. Somehow, she knew it wasn’t the last time their paths would cross.

She stepped through the silver door, and as the darkness pulled her in and fractured into a rush of color, she felt the weight of the moment settle: the time for play was over.

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].”

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 it as the game, Ashley. This is just the same and you are good at this.

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.