Protect him. Protect him with your life. You must protect. Protect.
It was hot. Too hot to be my room. My bed wasn't this hard, was it? I shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position to resume my slumber.
"Sir, how much is that slab of meat?" I heard a familiar voice. In fact, too familiar. Clay. Sir? Meat? Buying? My eyes immediately flew open when I grasped the fishiness of the situation. There should be no buying in my room!
I looked around me. This was definitely not my room
The floor was made of sand, booths were set up in a straight row around me, stretching into somewhere my eyes couldn't see. It looked like I was in the middle of a dessert. What looked like people stood around the booths, each booth had one person at attention around it. But something was strange about them.
They stood stiff, their body barely moving at all. They didn't talk, didn't fidget. They were completely silent. It was almost as if they were statues.What's even weirder were their clothes. Some were in armour, some in rags. Some wore gowns, which in the middle of a dessert doesn't seem like the smartest choice of clothing.
I looked around me in search of cameras. Maybe I was kidnapped in the middle of the night to star in a reality TV show? My heart sank when I realised that there was nothing remotely close to a camera around me.
"That's too expensive!" I heard Clay's voice again. I whipped my head around, trying to spot where Clay was. My eyes froze at the sight of a boy with chocolate brown hair with red highlights. Funny, Clay never dyed his hair before.
He was holding a bag of what seemed to contain coins because when he shook the bag, the sound of coins clinking against each other could be heard.
Clay was communicating with a gruff looking middle aged man. The man wore rags that were stained with blood, probably from the animals he handles everyday for he appeared to be a butcher.
Clay on the other hand was wearing a familiar looking armour that looked like it came out of the Victorian era. It looked very uncomfortable on him. He even had a sword strapped to his waist. But he didn't seem to mind it as he continued to bargain with the butcher who did not look like he was in the mood for negotiations.
"Are you going to buy the meat or not," The butcher growled at Clay, clearly annoyed. Clay pondered for a second, letting the fact that he'll not get a lower price for the meat sink in. Resigning to the fact, he opened his pouch and took out some silver coins. The butcher wrapped the meat up in some paper before throwing it at Clay.
When Clay turned to leave, the butcher suddenly froze up again. His head raised and his eyes staring forward into blank space. All anger and annoyance from before seemed to disappear as the butcher's body went stiff.
What was with them?
I walked quickly towards Clay, my hands landing on his shoulder. He turned around to face me, his face showing annoyance.
What confused me however was his eyes. They were a light golden colour. I decided to shrug that off, however.
"May I help you?" He questioned, his face showing signs that he just wanted to leave me alone right there and then. But then his face contorted into something like shock. For a second, my heart flooded with relief. He recognises me.
"Actually yes, Clay. Where are we-"
"Oh shit. You're The Mage," His eyes widened as he pointed an accusing finger at me. I'm what now? I was confused, very confused.
"What? No, I'm Althea. Your best friend, remember? From primary school?" I furrowed my eyebrows, hands profusely gesturing at my body. As if doing that would help Clay remember better.
"Oh! Althea, yeah. Definitely remember you," He let out a sarcastic remark with a roll of his eyes.
What's happening? Why couldn't Clay remember me? Where am I? How did I end up here? And then I recalled something.
I closed my eyes, trying to recall the last words I had read before sleeping.
Loading Game. Access Granted. Entering Game.
Game. Game. Game.
It clicked. It was as if a light bulb flashed in my head. Game! I was in a game! I looked around me, the market. It made sense now, this was Level One of the game me and Clay created. I looked back at clay, my eyes moving to study his armour. Right, it was the Knight's armour. Clay was The Knight. Mage, right. I was The Mage. Somehow I am the character I created.
I blinked.
"Clay. How did we get in here?" My voice shook as my brain processed the absurd thought.
"I don't know about you, but I came here from the South," He spoke with a shrug of his shoulders.
"No, I mean. How did we enter the game?" I clarified.
"Game? What game?" Clay appeared to be genuinely confused. Right, he doesn't even remember me, what makes me think that he'll know that this was a game.
I paced up and down in front of Clay. I had to return home somehow, I can't stay here. The Mage wasn't even developed properly, there could be malfunctions and that I could die. Crap, I was in big trouble.
"If you don't mind, I need to be heading North. See you maybe never," He bid me farewell before striding towards what I assumed was North.
"Wait!" I yelled after Clay. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at me.
"What?" He leaned on one of his legs and crossed his arms, impatient written all over his face.
"Can I follow you?"
I figured that if I wanted to leave this game, I would have to finish it first. According to the original plan of the game, The player, The Knight, would have to fight a final boss at the end to reach the highest rank a Knight could have. That would be the ending.
If I wanted to go through that ending, I would have to follow Clay.
"No," He rejected.
How could he-
"RUN! HURRY! THE GOBLINS ARE BACK!" A man yelled, a little girl with tear stained cheeks in his hands as he ran. How could he be running when the rest were standing like literal statues minutes ago?
I opened my mouth, ready to bombard Clay with questions. The other people started to run in the direction the man just ran, shouts of fear filling the air.
"What's happening-" I tried to speak but was cut off when I realised Clay was already making his way in the direction against where the crowd was heading. He was fighting an uphill battle.