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Chapter Eight - Blast From The Past

Eagle's POV

I stared blankly at the floating figure which, to me, was little more than a reminder of my mistakes, and she stared back at me. But her stare wasn't cold and emotionless like mine, quite the opposite. It was full of an interesting mix of love, sorrow, and compassion. "Eagle, my dear, sweet Eagle, what have you done? Why am I here?"

"Mom." I said, my voice scratchy from the prolonged silence. "I can explain."

"You began that cursed game, didn't you?" She inquired, and my expression confirmed it.  "I knew it. You are just like your father." She muttered, and I felt a surge of rage.

"Don't EVER compare me to him!" I yelled, and she flinched back. "We're nothing alike."

"I meant that you are alike in that you both decided to use Sburb." She said softly. "Your father predicted the end many years before it came, and convinced me to play Sburb with him when you were only a child. However, our success was not meant to be, and the game rejected our presence. It was clear to me that only a group of children would be able to enter Sburb successfully."

"I do have a group, and they're all very capable. But, to save the world was never my real goal in all of this."

"I know. " She told me gently. "But, given the choice, I would rather you had not brought me back. I know that is what you intended, but now you've made the game much more dangerous for you and your friends."

"I know. But Mom, I missed you. I need your guidance, in the game now more than ever. Please, don't be angry at me for bringing you back. " I pleaded, continuing, "I did what I thought was necessary."

"I'm not mad. I just wish you had saved the notebook." She said sadly, looking down at her own patchwork paper body.

"I kept one page, the most important one." I told her. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out. I had a message from Sara. "I gotta take this." I told my mom, and she nodded understandingly. Here's what our pesterlog looked like.

FrigidTyrant:  Where r u?

EyeoftheEagle: Exploring. Don't worry, I'm perfectly safe, I'm with my Sprite.

FT: Well, I can't see you on the server program, so you must be off the map.

EE: I'll explain later.

FT: Wait, you're with your Sprite?

EE:.....Yes. Why?

FT: Because on the map projection there's a giant blurb that seems to represent some sort of energy disturbance. 

EE: Weird.

FT: Maybe your Sprite is causing it? Sometimes Sprites can have unique abilities. 

EE: I guess so. I'll ask her.

FT: Wait, a second, I didn't get an explanation yet!

I closed the pesterlog and looked back up at my mom. "Sorry about that.  My server player is getting impatient." I said apologetically.

"Don't worry. Why don't you go back to your base? It's really not safe out here in the jungle." She said, with her own fair share of worry clear in her tone.

"Fine. But, one more thing, do you think that your, uh, unique prototyping, you may have acquired some sort of special abilities?" I asked her carefully, not wanting to offend. It was quite awkward, seeing her again after all this time, and to have to keep it professional. But this could be important.

"I don't know yet." She said truthfully. "I'd like to be able to fly around independently, to test the extent of my powers."

"That sounds fine. I guess you can, uh, report back to me when you're done?"

She nodded. "I can teleport you back to your base, if you'd like." I looked up sharply. "You can do that?"

"Yes, all Sprites can, I know that much." She said affirmatively. Then there was a flash of light and I felt an odd tingling sensation. When the light faded, I found myself sitting in my bedroom. I looked down at my hands, as if to much sure I was all there. "Holy shit, that's cool." I muttered.

*switch to Steven's POV*

 

I woke up groggily, my head pounding. I tried to remember how I had fallen asleep in the first place, and then realized I had blacked out after hitting my head on the coffee table. I tried to sit up, but felt there was a weight on my chest. I noticed that Sly was sitting on my chest, and shortly after that I noticed that I was in bed, even though I had passed out in the other room, in front of the couch. But how could that happen? No way Sly was able to move me.

"Welcome back to the world of the waking." Came the same British voice from before, and this time I was sure it was Sly who was talking.

"Y-You can talk?" I said nervously.

"Honestly, I'm quite surprised you never noticed prior to this. I've been whispering in your ear for many years." He said smugly. It was gonna take me a while to get used to this.

 "So, you're like, magical?" I said, confused. "I never knew...."

"No, of course you didn't. I am a guardian, and you are my mark." He said matter-of-factly. "I can't nessasarily tell you everything, but essentially, I've been watching you since you were a child, too small to remember. My current form isn't optimal, but I've been gaining more energy, and soon, I'll be able to transform." He glanced over at me, as if to check that I was getting all this. To tell the truth, I really wasn't.

"So...You're just supposed to protect me...Because I'm your 'mark'?" I clarified.

"Yes, now you've got it!" He said happily. "As soon as you begin the game I believe you humans call Sburb, I'll be able to collect enough cosmic energy by merging with your kernelSprite. It's simple, really."

It really didn't feel that simple to me.

"But, enough about me, you need to go. Your friend Jezbel is in danger." Sly told me, and at the mention of her name, I bolted up out of bed. "Why didn't you mention that before?" I rebuked him. "What kind of danger is she in?"

"Go reboot your server prograam and you'll see." He said mysteriously.

*A few minutes later...*

I was sat down at the laptop again, looking at a map of the dimension Jez was currently in, searching for clues. Sly was curled up on the floor between my feet. I was having difficulty because the terrain all looked the exact same. But, soon, I noticed an area that had sand blowing all around it in a cyclonic sort of motion. "Sly, come look at this!" I beckoned, and he leapt up to stand on my shoulder. "Oh, dear." He said, confirming my suspiscions.

"So, you're telling me that she's trapped in that sandstorm?" I asked him, and he looked directly at me for the first time. If it was possible for a cat's face to show concern, then Sly's certaintly did. "Yes, that's where she is." He said sadly.

"Then it's settled. I'm entering the game. I gotta go save her."