Sword Art Online: Vengeance

The Fourth Chapter - Betrayal at Dusk

October 3rd, 2027

As I sat there, on that mountain cliff, I knew I'd never be the same person again. One's own fear of death has a way of revealing their true nature. For me, it showed me what I'd known all along: I was a coward. I lacked the bravery to be the first one to enter the battlefield. Maybe that was why I was searching for the masked ranger, Aidan. Perhaps, subconsciously, I thought that I could learn his bravery and use it for my own.

Since the disastrous dungeon raid of the previous day, I hadn't even thought of sleeping. For the remainder of that night, I'd wandered the hilly plains and mountainous highlands outside of town, hoping that the further I distanced myself from the site of my failure the less its effects would hamper me. Even I knew this was impossible.

Now, the sun was rising over the peaks and hills of the northern lands. If I wanted to track Aidan, I knew I needed to get moving or he may leave town and be forever out of reach. The hike back to town wasn't nearly as long as I'd expected. The dungeon from yesterday had been mostly circular in its design, with the tunnels all wrapping around a central point and never straying too far from the entrance except in elevation. It was perhaps twenty minutes before I was once again greeted with the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the town of Aurus.

There was a particular solemnity in the air, as if the world itself knew of our loss and grieved. It was a cloudy day, perhaps not unusual for a morning in October. But it was fitting. I wondered just how many people had lost their lives thus far, only two weeks into this game of death. I knew that the answer was more than I could bear to imagine. Still, we were no closer to finding the truth about this incident. I knew from my friends list that Zrinko was still alive, out there somewhere. I had no desire to send him a private message. I feared that the truth may be more painful than the unknown.

I made my way to the tavern, my usual resting place. Even this early in the morning, it was still heavily populated. The need for sleep in a virtual environment was significantly diminished because physical exhaustion was not a factor, but it was not completely unnecessary. A majority of the doors to the private rooms, which lined the western wall of the huge common room, were closed and locked, no doubt with players sleeping inside.

I sat myself down in a wooden chair near the room's central fire pit. Across from me, an NPC bard played his lute endlessly, repeating the same dozen songs ad infinitum. Though the warmth of the fire was soothing to my cold, damp skin, I couldn't help but remind myself that none of this was real. The music, the smell of warm food, the heat of the flames…these things were nothing but simulations – counterfeit versions of the senses that had been robbed from me when I was trapped in this digital prison. How much longer would we be stuck here to fight for our lives in a frivolous game of death?

Originally, my intentions had been to come to the tavern to seek out the whereabouts of Aidan, but it seemed now that answers had come to me instead. I don't know how long I'd been sitting near that fire when the two men in black leather armor came crashing through the door to the tavern. I'd been drifting in and out of consciousness in my stupor, but the sudden appearance of those two shady characters forced me back to alertness. I, along with most everyone else in the room, simply stared at the pair.

The way they made their way across the room…it was clear that the two hadn't come with good intentions. They passed me, heading to the rear corner of the room where a young man in a cloth tunic sat alone at a table. For a brief moment, I glimpsed terror in his eyes. The taller of the pair, a scrawny man in leather armor with a cutlass sheathed at his side, said nothing as he violently grabbed his target's collar and pulled him upward.

"Where the hell is he!?" the brigand shouted in the face of his captive. The man grasped at his neck in an attempt to pull the criminal's hands off himself, but it was no use. "Don't play dumb with me," the armed intruder growled. We know you smuggled him out of Cloudridge! Where is he hiding?" Frustrated at his victim's lack of desire – or ability – to speak, the bandit forced him backwards into the wall. Such an attack might have hurt if the Amusphere was capable of replicating pain. Fortunately, attacks in this world would have no such effect.