"Infusion process beginning."
Phil could faintly hear a woman's voice not far from him. He was in pain and felt so tired. Why was he awake?
"He's lost a lot of blood. I'm going to need another priest here to take over my infusion while I look for internal bleeding that hasn't been pinched off."
"Second here and ready, ma'am." Another voice said.
The sounds were clear now, and he could even hear the shuffle of feet not far from him.
"Ending my infusion. Be prepared to take over as soon as my flow stops."
Pain shot through him more intense than he'd ever felt, and his ears filled with the sound of screaming…his screaming.
"Start the infusion damnit! And someone fetch me more of the sleeping draught now!"
A liquid was poured down Phil's throat between screams, and he soon found himself slipping back into the quiet pain-free darkness of sleep.
"The wound really wasn't all that bad, Golder." The same voice from before was speaking. Phil was waking up again, but he was still exhausted. "You did well bringing him straight here. He had lost enough blood that I had to deplete nearly my whole soul supply just to keep him from dying."
"Aye, I thank you for your help," Golder said. "I'll be sure to tell Zarrick your debt is settled."
"He should wake up soon, but I recommend at least a day's rest before he tries to walk around."
"I thought you said you'd healed him up nicely?"
"He isn't an ascended Golder." The female voice said. "I can see the amazing supply potential he has, but it does a man no good if it isn't tapped. So for now, he is like any normal person. Their bodies take time to heal even with our help. That blade did a number on several of his internal organs. The cuts have been closed, but the tissue will remain tender from the rate at which we needed to infuse him. So trust my opinion as a healer, three days' rest minimum.
"Thea," Golder said. "We don't have that kind of time. He HAS to see Zarrick soon. From what little I've been told he might have people looking for him and I'm not prepared to lose my life in exchange for his."
"Don't tell me your secrets," Thea snapped. "Just make sure Zarrick knows I helped. I want nothing else to do with your business."
Phil awoke to a soft gentle touch on his brow. Looking up to see who was caressing his forehead he was surprised to see a plump stern-faced woman with reddish-orange skin dressed in white robes.
"What the hell!" Phil said. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Her skin was an unhumanly sheen of orange and reds, and her eyes! Perhaps he had been more injured than he realized. Rubbing away at his eyes again he looked a second time at the person standing over him.
Her eyes were purple. No just her irises but her entire eyeball! And for a moment there, when he first made eye contact with her, he was sure that he saw the irises flicker with a golden light.
The plump woman had stopped petting his forehead and now stood several feet back. A hood was up over the persons face, and now that they had stepped back he couldn't make out any details of their face in the dim light provided.
"I'm glad to see you've finally awoken." A distinctly feminine voice said that seemed at odds with the rough face he had seen moments ago. "Golder is sampling the local selection of ale, but should return before too long."
Phil took a deep breath and laid back in the bed. He found himself hard pressed not to rest with the dim lights and the faint but distinct smell of lavender wafting through the room.
"What happened to me?" Phil asked. Vague memories of a confrontation between street thugs and his shadowy rescuer flickered through his head.
"I was informed by our…mutual friend…Golder that he took you on a walk through the slums." The voice said. "Hardly a place for anyone wishing NOT to be stabbed. But you're safe now darling, no ruffians will make it past me. My name is Thea, and I've been charged with your recovery."
Phil found that he believed her. She was tall and thick around the middle. Phil could tell by the way she held herself that she was wouldn't have had a problem dealing with even the largest man he had met in the alley. Power seemed to pulse off of her in waves and she held her nose high.
"Yeah, I got jumped by three…" Phil began to say. At that same moment, Thea decided to walk to the side of the wall and touch a faintly glowing blue sphere. White light as bright as a noonday sun blasted into the room.
He had to shut his eyes from the intense burst of light, but opened them after he heard someone clearing their throat across the room. With his eyes open, he found that the room wasn't filled with blinding light as he had assumed before, but rather a soft, steady white light, lit for him to see clearly now.
He lay in a room with a small window, covered with white curtains, two chairs on the far wall, a small wooden trunk, and the bed he lay on. Everything was white, but not the sterile plastic white that he had become accustomed to growing up. Everything except for the cloth on the windows and bed had a distinct texture to them. Waving lines of wood had been painted with a white paint-like substance. It wasn't a solid and uniform color either, more like a white wood stain.
***Phil pulled the rough cotton blanket down from his chest to examine his wound. Pushing his shirt aside, he felt his stomach, searching for the wound. Finding nothing he leaned over to examine the area. Beside some red splotching skin there wasn't even a scar from the knife wound to his gut.
"You healed quite nicely if I may say so myself," Thea said. "I wasn't sure how fast you'd be able to heal. If I might pry perhaps you could explain to me why someone of your age and obvious ability hasn't taken the Ascension rights? I could tell as soon as I connected with you that you have the soul potential."
Phil looked up to respond to Thea but her strange alien features startled him.
"How come you're orange?" The words escaped his lips before he had a chance to filter himself.
"Orange?" Thea's voice stayed steady and didn't show any signs of fury that he had received from Golder. "Have you lived under a rock for the last twenty years? Surely you don't live so far east that you've never encountered a Shohuth before?" She didn't seem offended but surprised.
"Sho-hooth?" Phil asked, doing his best to pronounce the name as she had. The designers really went out of their way to add a diverse population. What would be the point of that? In fact what would be the point of a lot of this Phil found himself wondering. Being stabbed, ancient style towns, orange people…why hadn't they just made a copy of our world for 'Haven'?
"Yes." Thea said, she relaxed her shoulders and the hood fell backward. "I imagine you thin-skinned Kohtharian will have to get used to us sooner than later. The peasant wars have grown out of even King Terrashol control, if the rumors are to be trusted."
Phil study the woman's face not really hearing what she was saying, but instead struggling to understand the minds of the ones who created this strange world. Dark red eyes stared back at him. At this distance he noticed a slightly less red iris, long and narrow, like a cats.
"I'm new to this world." Phil finally said. He was tired of acting along with the AI and just wanted a chance to rest and be left alone. His first attempt at acting heroic had ended in disaster and he was beginning to realize that this world wasn't so different than his own. He would be no more brave or heroic here than he had on earth. It was a shame, he really hoped Haven would've been different.
If only he could find a computer, then he could immerse himself in code and logic, but unless he figured out how to build his own computer it didn't look like that was going to be an option. He could at least find himself some privacy until he could think through what to do next.
"I think I am going to see if I can track down Golder and some of that ale you mentioned."
"You really need to rest young one." Thea said. "Your body has worked very hard to heal you and it will be lacking in strength for a few days at least. I can get you something to help you sleep."
Thea slipped out the door with a grace that belied her size.
Phil wasn't about to miss this opportunity. Sitting up he fought back the urge to throw up as nausea hit him. His pants were missing he soon realized. The white long shirt was all he was wearing it seemed. With haste he began searching the room for his belongings. It took him only moments to find them cleaned and folded neatly in the small nightstand next to the bed.
The shirt was stained with faded blood and had a small hole, but it seemed to have been cleaned along with the rest of the clothes. Phil quickly dressed himself. He kept the white shirt on and tucked them into his pants then covered it with the bloody shirt. Lastly he slipped the cloak around his shoulders, raising the hood, and made for the door.
A faint creak sounded as the door swung open. The hallway was brightly lit and smelled of the same strong lavender scent as his room. The walls, floor, and high ceiling were painted white and split off in both directions. Several doors lined the wall on both sides, but no one walked the hallways that he could see. The faint sound of conversation could be heard to the left so Phil went right.
Reaching the end of the hallway Phil found a desk with papers and odd objects strewn about, but no one sitting in the chair behind the desk. A staircase led down just ahead and Phil quickly shuffled down it.
He felt weak and a few times had to catch himself on the rails of the staircase to keep from falling, but he managed to get to the bottom without falling. The next floor he found was busy with people moving around in a hurried pace. He found, to his relief, that he was mostly ignored with his eyes downcast and his hood pulled low. He noticed few side glances were thrown in his direction, but no one spoke to him or approached him.
This floor lacked the sweet lavender scent and brightly lit halls. Instead lamps had been attached to the walls and gave only a fraction of light that he had seen upstairs. Phil's stomach lurched as some more pungent smells wafted in his direction. Phil saw people walking around in white robes, but almost all were set to assisting the bedridden people that lined the walls.
It didn't take him long to find the exit. Two large wooden doors had been propped open letting the noise of the street pour into the even larger corridor where people were being treated. A large bear-like man stood in the center of them. He wasn't dressed in the white robes, but wore massive cloth padded vest with metal studs evenly arrayed throughout. A club hung at his waist and a yellow cloak, stained with dirt and grim at the edges, hung about his shoulders.
The giant bear-like man looked in Phil's direction.
After only a moments gaze his thick face turned to regard a pair of armored woman entering the large corridor.
"Get a priest NOW!" Bellowed the larger of the women. Her comrade hung off her shoulder barely keeping to her feet.
"The large man with the club didn't stop to argue and ran/stumbled down the hallway calling for a priest.
Several came rushing forward leaving the many people they were tending in various levels of treatment. One man looked as if his arm was being removed and he was left bleeding.
Phil forced his eyes back to the street and slipped past the two armored women.
As passed close by the large doors he noticed just to the left of the door a large waiting room had been set up. It was filled to the brim with people, sitting, standing, and even some sleeping on the floor. The scent from the large open room as Phil approached caught him completely off guard.
He had spent many hours distracted while working on important projects so he would sometimes miss a shower or two, but the human musk he was smelling now was far worse than a few missed showers could account for and he found himself plugging his nose as he walked passed the room and out into the open dark street.
He was free and ready to figure this game out…what was he going to do? He had quickly decided that he didn't want to keep following Golder or really any of the AI's anymore. His best chance to get settled would be to find another actually person. But where would he look for someone else? And how would he know if he found them, the majority of the people here weren't super short or strikingly orange, they just looked normal. Well maybe a bit taller on average that he was used to seeing but not so tall to be noticeably strange.
He also had no idea how large 'Haven' was, but was fairly certain it wasn't just this massive city. Thea had said she was from a different place and Golder had made similar comments.
Could this digital world be as populated as the world he had left behind? The thought unsettled Phil and he didn't quite understand why. Remembering back to the rumors and number crunching theories that he had seen, and done himself he theorized that nearly 1% of the population had been funneled into the 'Haven' project over the last ten years.. At last census the world population had been nearly 10 billion, so if 1% had made it into 'Haven' that would mean that a hundred million real people roamed around in 'Haven'.
Surely with that many people walking around he would be able to find someone, somehow? Fighting down the urge to singing some recently famous pop song in the hopes that someone would recognize him for what he was, Phil began to look walk down the street.
Small flames flickered at the wicks of iron lamps every ten feet following the road down. Long shadows stretched across the wide road and a light wind rustled fallen leaves somewhere out of sight. Sudden thoughts of being stabbed or jumped by vagabonds filled his mind and Phil stopped beneath a street lamp where the light was the greatest.
A gurgling growling sound made him jump and swing around shouting. The sound of his heart racing and thumping in his chest, followed by sideways glances from the strangely dressed medieval time people were all that stalked him though and he sheepishly stared at the street. It wasn't until after the stars cleared from his eyes and the nausea faded from his quick movement that he realized the growl had come from his stomach. He was starving. \
New plan. Find food.
Down the street he caught sight of a couple of buildings were more brightly lit than the others with several lamps near their entrances. Squinting he could just make out a sign on the nearest one. A large hogshead with an apple in its mouth. That seems like a likely indication that they serve food, Phil thought, as he began to walk toward the building. Ignoring his twisted nerves from seeing a small group of people standing outside Phil pushed himself through the door.
Like stepping throw a portal to another world the contrast between the dark, cold, and lonely street and the new world he had just entered was so stark that he found himself staring.
A wave of warmth from a large fire nestled into the far wall, a man with a the prettiest voice he had ever heard sung near the fire with a stringed instrument, and then there was the scent that made his mouth water. Spices and the smell of cooking meat filled his nostrils and he found himself walking towards the bar, set up on the far wall to his left. The low roar of chatter directly around him quieted as he cut through the crowd of tables and people standing at the bar, but Phil's increasing hunger kept him from caring.
A large man stood behind a high wooden bar. This bar was definitely not made with someone of his size in mind, Phil thought as he slipped into a bar stool. The grizzly looking man with a brown handlebar mustache and a narrow set to his eyes glared down at him.
"What'll it be?" The man asked. His voice was course as fresh sandpaper.
"Food," Phil said. When the man didn't immediately move to grab him something he added, "Please?"
"Money first." The barkeep said his eyes looking Phil up and down. "You look half dead and I'm not bout to miss payment in account of you dying on me."
Phil stifled a moan as he padded his pants pockets. He had no money. Pulling out the clear gem that pulsed with an inner light, Phil considered trying to exchange it for some food. No, that didn't feel right. For all he knew this gem could be worth much more than a simple meal and drink.
Turning away from the bar Phil scanned the room, his eyes lingering on plates of food with some kind of brown stringy meat and with dark gravy poured over them. He was so hungry. As his eyes traveled over a table further towards the back he noticed a pair of eyes watching him.
A man sitting in the only part of the fire lit room where shadows hid the majority of his face. He could barely make out a clean shaved face and a pair of piercing eyes reflecting from the firelight. It was the eyes that caught his attention. They had glimmered gold for a moment, Phil was sure of it. The man matched Phil's perplexed look with a shadowy stare.
The singing man had stopped his song at some point during his drooling over food and the music starting up again caught Phil's attention. He looked away from the man for only a few moments before quickly looking back. Phil was surprised to find the man gone.
The pangs of hunger and sweet music quickly pushed the man from Phil's mind. Oh well, he thought, and he focused his attention back on the singing man hoping a distraction would help his hunger.
The singer sung about great men who fought against some kind of darkness and unlocked the power of the gods by locking away a dragon. He mentioned ascension and Phil started paying even closer attention.
Thea had said something about him being able to ascend, whatever that meant. The rest of the song made little sense to Phil and the lines repeated times. A few verses about the first gods of ascension being locked in an eternal struggle against the great darkness. A line about the dragon of eternal pain or something? Very confusing stuff.
Phil listened until the song ended and the song man sat and took a break. A dark-haired man, slimmer and with sly look on his face, took the stage next. He produced several balls out of thin air and began juggling. He made quite a show out of it, pretending to be overwhelmed by the amount of balls and dropping one or two at a time before kicking them back up into the circle of juggling with his foot. Phil was so entranced by the little show that he notice that someone had approached him till they spoke.
"You look like you could use a meal, son." A vibrant voice said behind him.
Phil turned and saw the man that had been sitting in the corner now standing eye level before him. He looked much friendlier up close. His face painted with a smile and even his eyes seemed to grin. He had short brown hair atop his head and a clean-shaven face that shone with a sheen of sweat. He wore a dark red cloak of the same style most here wore, thick and warm. The cloak was wrapped tight around his shoulders, covering most of his chest. But beneath it Phil could see the gleam of polished metal reflecting the firelight. He wore some kind of armor beneath his cloak.
Strange for someone to wear armor out to have to bite to eat and drink. In fact the more Phil thought about it, the two ladies that had barged into the hospital had been the first people he had seen wearing armor, despite the fantasy setting. Even weapons seemed uncommon, other than the dagger everyone had tucked into their pants or attached to a side belt. Phil realized he was staring at the man, when the newcomer cleared his throat loudly.
"I am really hungry." Phil said while his stomach growled reinforcing the point. "And I don't have any cash or credit cards on me." Snapping his fingers to the side and letting out a sigh, Phil smiled at his lame attempt at a joke that this AI wouldn't be able to understand.
"Hmm, well you seem like a fine enough fellow. My name is Edwin." The man said. "If you promise to pay me back, by favor or other means, I can spot you a meal and a pint or two."
Edwin's eyes narrowed in on Phil as he spoke and a shiver ran up Phil's spine. Could this be his first quest, he wondered as he absently rubbed the chill from his arms.
"I'm not sure what help I can offer, but for food I will make that promise." Phil said. What is the worse that could happen from promising a strange to be in his debt? Surely the AI wouldn't have him do anything nefarious.
"Two plates and two pints of ale." Edwin called out turning to the barkeep and raising his hand. He placed three brown orange coins about the size of Phil's thumbnail down on the counter beside them. They had a geometric shape stamped into them, a seven-pointed shape atop an outline of a circle.
The barkeep nodded and left without a word.
"He'll bring it to us let's find a table." Edwin said as he turned and began walking through small mass of people around the bar. Phil noticed he didn't have to push through as he had, people made an exaggerated effort to be clear from his path.
Phil turned and followed the man. He felt weird talking to a stranger and even weirder accepting his charity. Growing up Phil's family had never been what you would call 'well-off' but they never needed to accepted any charity that Phil knew of, and after his parents had passed and it was just the two of them his sister had worked double shifts until Phil got his corporate job. Everything he had gotten he had worked hard for, but a growl from his stomach quieted any protest that he might have thought about giving. Pride be damned when you have an empty stomach.
"Why were you staring at me?" Phil said with his usual tact. He had meant to approach the subject more elegantly than that, but he was never good at public speaking, or speaking in general for that matter.
"Excuse me?" Edwin said as he pulled out a chair and sat down.
"I saw you in the corner. You were staring at me, I think."
"Aw yes yes. That was indeed me, I thought I knew you from somewhere. You don't seem to fit in so well among the crowd." Edwin gestured to the rest of the room with his hand.
Looking around the room, Phil noted that with the exception of maybe one or two orange skinned men of normal height, the room was filled with men and woman who all stood at nearly seven feet tall, a whole foot taller than Phil. That is everyone except the man Edwin sitting across from him. A sudden realization hit him.
"Are you from earth!" Phil nearly fell out of his chair in excitement.
"Quiet yourself!" Edwin growled. His face flashed dangerously and his eyes narrowed for the briefest of moments and that same golden light flared deep his pupils, before returning to the friendly face he had met at the bar.
It happened so quick that Phil wasn't sure if he had imagined the change.
"Sorry." He wasn't sure what he had done wrong, but he felt like a child being scolded for touching something hot.
"It's fine. It's fine." Edwin said. His head swung on a swivel and he eyed several people longer than others but finally returned his gaze back to Phil. "I am from Earth. I came on the third wave. What wave did you come in on?"
Phil stared at the man trying to hide his obvious confusion. What wave? Hurry make something up…tell him the fourth wave or perhaps that you can't remember.
"I just arrived today." Damnit. He was not good at talking.
"Today?" Edwin said. He titled his head, scratching his chin. "You some kind of joker? If you arrived today how in the hell are you all the way in Kohthar already and for what purpose?"
"This is where I showed up." Phil said. "Well I was in some kind of barn in an alley first, then I got stabbed and brought to a hospital…On second thought more than a day might have gone by since I arrived. I have no idea how long I was laid up."
Words poured out of Phil liked melted butter.
"You aren't joking are you?" Edwin asked, his ears narrowing once more.
Phil shook his head and was saved from having to explain more by the arrival of two plates of hot food and warm ale. Not seeing any utensils and not wanting to wait to find out, Phil grabbed a section of the brown stringy meat and stuffed it into his mouth. Food had never tasted as good as this tasted now. Falling into a frenzy he consumed all of his food and drank the warm bitter drink. He wasn't usually a fan of alcoholic drinks, but he was just too hungry to care right now.
Finishing the first plate Phil looked up to see Edwin talking to another man of average height. The newcomer was kneeling beside Edwin receiving whispered words. Edwin noticed Phil had finished his frenzy and waved the man away.
"What was that?" Phil asked watching the newcomer leave, also wearing a dark red cloak.
"Nothing, just a friend of mine." Edwin said. "Here you seem hungry still, eat my plate as well."
Phil looked down at the untouched plate and then to his gravy covered fingers. With only a moments hesitation he shrugged and grabbed the plate, consuming it as well. He held himself back and ate at a much more leisurely pace this time. The gravy tasted a bit different, sweeter than his had been. Strange taste notwithstanding Phil still finished the plate of food in record time.
"Thank for that you." Phil said, feeling full and relaxed. His voice was slurred and his head felt heavy on his shoulders. Things felt like they were moving in slow motion, but so smooth and so relaxing. Had he drunk too much of that ale? No, he had only finished half of the glass. His head was so heavy.
"Oh drank a bit much, son?" Edwin said talking hold of Phil and lifting him to his feet. "I'll be sure to get you home safe."
The world around him rocked and titled. A wash of cold on his skin brought him closer to awareness. He was in a dark alley now and Edwin's friend was back. Why was he was holding a large piece of wood and lifting it above his head? A flash of pain and then darkness.