57: Attempted Confidence

57: Attempted Confidence

“You and your shitty friends can have fun with your tree,” Marlon said after a couple of moments of silence. “Me and my guild got places to be. Got a queen to meet, after all.”

With the duel being cancelled, all our wounds had been healed and our gear repaired, so it would've been a simple thing to start again. Personally, though, I wasn't inclined to. I'd made my point, or rather, I'd interrupted their point.

Rather than reply, I just shrugged and turned away, ready to make for the inn’s taproom. A few of the crowd voiced their disappointment, but most people were busy talking about the announcement.

That was apparently unacceptable to Arca who let out a loud huff of indignation. She looked like she was about to speak, but my mum cut in over the top of her, “Hey, Vesuvia! Find us a bunch of booze and we'll party up in the inn.”

Oh dear. My mother was a little crazy. I think, maybe, there was also a part of her that was cutting loose—She no longer had to worry about her child on life support, or rent, or any of the other general mundane problems that an adult had to deal with.

“Righto, Fiona!” The amazonian leader of the gladiator guild called back. “I'll send some of my people up to play bouncer.”

Oh, that was a good idea. Also a good idea—Leaving before Arca could continue to cause problems. Wings whirring, I buzzed up to land on the outer porch that ringed the bottom floor of the inn.

“Good job, Keiko,” Ethan said, patting me on the back as soon as I arrived. “I like the part where you stabbed him in the dick. Too bad pain is capped in Rell.”

“I just wanted to distract everyone,” I shrugged. Hopefully nobody noticed how much I was shaking. Marlon was an asshole, and he was a liar, and he was a manipulator, but none of those things were what made him scary. He was terrifying because he was all of those things and smart, and skilled, and cunning. This wasn't going to be the end of things, I just knew it.

“Uh, Fiona?” Paisley asked in a small voice. “This might just be anxiety talking, but is Willow actually a guild vehicle right now?”

My mother, who was watching us all with an unreadable expression, nodded and smiled. “Yes, I made sure of it. I'm adding everyone from that guild as banned persons, just to be safe. They can't hurt us or anyone else inside the boundary of the vehicle.”

“Unless they declare war,” I muttered darkly. “Then they can turn those ballistae on us from way high up and there isn't shit we can do to stop them.”

Hundreds of players were packed into the massive taproom of our inn, and it was clear that the Galloping Willow Inn was a hit. I even saw Doug over in a corner, chatting away to his friends. God, it felt like forever since I met him, back during my first day as Keiko.

Over at the bar, mum and two of her friends were happily serving drinks—chatting to anyone and everyone as they did so. They were also making quite a lot of coin in the process. Apparently people were willing to pay a few extra coppers for their pint just to be here.

Beneath us all, Willow was rumbling happily as she slurped up the magic water of Ardgour. I was a little concerned about that, to be honest. She said it tasted, ‘fizzy’, and, ‘a little spicy’, which had me wondering if she'd get indigestion from the ostensibly holy water, since she was undead.

As for me, I was avoiding the crowds in a corner while I stared at two levels and the associated points that I needed to spend. The battle had drowned us in experience, pushing me all the way to level thirty. It was an exciting milestone—Half-way to max level—and I was excited to see how my class would continue to evolve.

Anyway, of the stat points, two went into Intelligence, as I was starting to stare into the realm of mana starvation during combat, which wasn’t good. The next two, I put into Athleticism, because getting hit by Marlon’s shield had sucked, and the easiest way to stop that was to be even faster. Once that was done, I took a moment to look at my stats.

Kyosei Keiko: Level 30

Strength: 16 — (13+2+1)

Athleticism: 17

Dexterity: 21

Stamina: 20 — (12+2+6)

Constitution: 3

Intelligence: 4 — (3+0+1)

Wisdom: 3 — (1+0+2)

Resolve: 2 — (1+0+1)

Focus: 17 — (8+0+9)

Note: Bracketed numbers are base, then training bonuses, then gear bonuses, that combine to create the total bold number. This can be hidden using the checkbox at the bottom of the page.

My Intelligence was still too low—It’d take more than a total of four to get me the mana I needed, but it was a start. I liked how high my Focus had jumped, though. That Brinewyrm Ring was doing some serious work there.

On the abilities side of the equation, I had three to spend and three newly unlocked abilities to look at.

Dreamspeed

Passive. Increases your Athleticism further, beyond mundane means. +5% Athleticism per point spent.

Wyrmbolt

Thrust with your weapon to create a thin bolt of attuned magical energy.

Petal Swarm

Throw a swarm of attuned razor sharp petals with limited tracking at your enemies.

“She's shy? Really?” She asked, surprised. “I figured she'd be, like... more confident about that, since she, I don't know, seems very sexually... I don't know...”

Shrugging, I motioned a wordless question towards the bed. Paisley nodded, so we sat down.

“Elena is... a complex person. She either struggles with or can't feel romantic stuff, but she also enjoys cuddling and kissing and all that. I have to admit, I'm actually not entirely compatible with that kind of friendship—It’s a bit too out-there for me, but when it was just the two of us, it was cool. Maybe I'm a little repressed or a puritan or something—” I trailed off, giving my friend a helpless look. “I honestly forgot the point I was trying to make.”

Paisley giggled and spasmed a hand in my direction before quickly pulling it back. She cleared her throat. “Um. I said she seemed like she'd be more confident—dominant, whatever.”

I clicked a finger. “Yeah! She can be very dominant and confident, right up until she gets too wrapped up in her own head. Then she's suddenly second-guessing herself and it's kind of a trainwreck after that. Then I'll have to— uh, stuff—”

I trailed off and my cheeks heated. Watching my feet bounce on the bedframe as they moved on their own, I listened as Paisley thought through what I was saying.

“That's... that makes sense,” she said after a second. “I can't imagine what life would be like in her shoes. Seems like she's doing okay, though, so I guess that's all that matters.”

I snorted and nodded. “She's alarmingly put together for a gay, uh, queer—Yeah, a queer person. A few self confidence issues and the usual confusion over the unique way her brain works, but happy and living life otherwise.”

“That's good,” Paisley said, then grinned. “I know I'm not ‘put-together’. I am the absolute queen of overthinking shit. Like, whoa! Then, suddenly, I don't think things through enough!”

I stifled a bark of laughter with a hand, and eyes twinkling, I replied, “Yeah, can't say you've ever come across as a paragon of sanity or confidence.”

A pout formed on her pretty red lips. “That's very rude. I am—okay, who needs sanity anyway—but, I can be confident! I can even be dominant!”

Oh my god. Adorable.

I couldn't help it, but the sentiment slipped out. “You're so cute! Look at those eyes, so full of determination. Little dark pearls of confidence right there.”

Outrage darkened her expression further, and the pout she'd been wearing intensified. Then, something else sparked in her eyes, and that was about all the warning I got.

She moved, standing up with swift purpose. A moment later, and she was standing before me, hands catching mine. There was a little pause there, as she lifted them above my head. I was too shocked to stop her, and honestly, I didn't want to. Her stare burned me with an intensity I'd never seen there before, and when—in that brief split second of motion—I still didn't resist, she pushed me onto my back.

Her knees were on either side of my hips, my hands were pinned to the bed above my head, and her face was inches from mine. The whole manoeuvre had taken barely three seconds, and ho-boy was I gasping for air like it'd been a marathon.

“Say that again,” she whispered, her adorable rounded cheeks all bundled up as she grinned at me. “I can definitely be dominant.”

Well now, looked like my big mouth had gotten me in trouble again. God damn, and that little move had been executed perfectly. So well timed—Like, I'd had the full ability to stop her the whole time, and she was so gentle—Oh, and she didn't trigger the game's consent enforcement protocols!

She licked her lips, and suddenly I was no longer the teasing girl I'd been even after she pushed me flat. It all fled, because suddenly it felt like we'd exited the realm of tipsy banter and into the— Oh fuck, she was so close, her lips were so red, and there was this sweet ache in my heart that grew with every breath I took.

“Paisley,” I whispered, because all I could say or think was her name.

She threw herself off me, so fast that it happened literally in the blink of an eye. No! No... god fucking damn it Paisley!

“Oh my god, oh my god, I'm so sorry!” She squeaked, backing up against a wall opposite me.

Sitting up, I tried to collect my fuzzy thoughts like a stuffed toy trying to insert its own stuffing back into its body. “What?” I murmured.

“That was such a weird thing to do to a friend!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Tears were collecting in the corners of her eyes. “I could've just said that I could be dominant, but no, I wanted to... to... whatever the heck that was.”

Slowly, almost methodically, my thoughts began to click into place like vast, continental-scale puzzle pieces. I discovered, to my surprise, that I was angry. Frustrated, confused, tired, and angry.

For a single moment, I considered telling her—probably by yelling—that I was upset and angry that she hadn't kissed me. God, I'd wanted it so bad.

That moment passed by, however, so I just stood up, deflated and just... done, and I turned for the door. Paisley didn't stop me. When I got there, I turned the handle and paused. “The game didn't detect a lack of consent, Paisley. You gave me enough opportunity to stop you.”

“...huh?” Came her soft, bemused reply.

I closed my eyes with a tired sigh, then pushed out and left her room.