Keylynn frowned at the war-torn, inert, empty expanse that she found herself in. The ground beneath her feet was void of all the creatures she expected to sense with her magic. The air was just as empty. The feeling brought back memories of her time trapped in the frozen tundra of the FrostMaiden Mountains.

  Her team was the only glimmer of life that she could sense. The workers were bathed in too much magical energy for her to sense them, even though she was certain they were alive as well. Illusionary people didn’t respond or act outside of their role for the quest.

  She noted her findings on her matrix tablet, disappointed. The war zone was the adventurers’ introduction to Ody’s Journey, a quest that results in them becoming heroes. She expected more. She expected a more real series of quests. Highly curated, polished, smooth experiences were best for budding adventurers, easing them into the reality of what it means to be a hero.

  War zones aren’t clean; they are filled with rotting corpses. And yet these corpses, if she can even call them that, were nothing more than decorative rocks. They all looked the same. None of them showed signs of rot. The air around them was silent and didn’t carry the distinct stench of war: death, sweat, blood, and fear.

  This quest allows adventurers to play at war free of the consequences. Bile filled her mouth.

  She looked around, disgusted. A dozen carrion flies buzzed around her head. Each one disappeared as she gingerly stepped around the highly curated scene. Walking on a void will never fail to be uncomfortable and loathsome. It felt as if she were back in the frozen wasteland with too much inert cold water between her and the life hibernating below.

  Keylynn pulled out her comms device. She didn’t have any new messages, not that she expected any. She pulled out her chat with Dauven and typed:

  Keylynn: Dauven, this is Keylynn. The quest location is entirely curated. I can’t tell the flavour of arcane magic. I’m assuming illusionary. It’s bringing back feelings of ForstMaiden.

  Barnibus and BEEG were collecting samples, not that they were necessary. BEEG visibly shuddered when he touched a corpse. Barnibus barked out a stern order, and BEEG held it still for him to take his samples. Barnibus likely has figured out what she knows: everything is false and made of magic. It was a method some storymancers used to save money; the smaller the cost to run their quest, the larger their paycheck. Storymancers are paid last out of all of the staff associated with a quest, as they were the only ones who functioned on commission, not salary. She was told the pay structure motivates storymancers not to be static when it comes to their quests. If their paycheck relies upon adventurer volume, they will be motivated to ensure their quest is the best it can be. Unfortunately, that’s not the common outcome.

  Her comms buzzed, and she quickly checked it.

  Dauven: Illusion and conjuration from what we are seeing here. Do Ragna and Demetra bicker all the time?

  “Mushroom boss, I think you should see this.” Tsunami called from her left. She glanced back at Zukyov, and he didn’t need her help. He was conducting an in-depth report on health and safety guidelines for the staff who played the living soldiers.

  She navigated the rubble and corpses, feeling as if she were walking blind; in a way she was. Tsunami was deep beyond the war front, behind a small mound of rocks and dirt hiding him from view. Dotted around her were false corpses of primal beasts. They all had the same general appearance of a generic muscular beast with short black hair. What set them apart were the additional nightmarish traits borrowed from myths and legends. Some bore monstrously large heads that were covered with an unnatural amount of eyes or teeth. Others had the jewelled eyes of a fly, while others had the intelligent eyes of an owl. Some had a single tail that ended in a venomous stinger, reminding her of a scorpion, while others had numerous tails that reminded her of creatures from the depths of the ocean.

  Whoever designed them had never seen a primal beast. Primal beasts are made of pure elemental magic, not impossible nightmarish amalgamations of creatures.

  “I don’t know what else to tell you. That’s the box. There is no other.” The orc sighed.

  Keylynn raised an eyebrow and peered around the corner. Tsunami’s normally calm, cool-toned water was a flurry of sea foam and angry waves. His hair was a collection of endless giant swells crashing into each other.

  “But how can this be the box? It’s just a large black crate that—” He paused his rant to kick the box. The box disappeared. “It disappears! Quest complete! How does this box affect the war? It doesn’t! It doesn’t make sense!” He bellowed, sounding like the angry ocean he was embodying.

  The orc looked helplessly at him. His dark eyes gazed at Keylynn, and his face perked up. “Look, it’s your boss.”

  Tsunami turned and saw Keylynn. “Right, I thought you should see the box because it looked really out of place, like a bad photo edit.” He ran his hands through his hair, and the swells calmed slightly.

  More carrion flies buzzed around her harmlessly as she tried to understand what he told her. Her corpse flowers must be ravenous today. Slime Eugene, on the other hand, hasn’t asked for a single cup of coffee. Strange. “What is a bad photo edit?” She asked hesitantly. She didn’t want her new team to lose their respect for her, but at the same time, if she didn’t know what he was talking about, it could add further confusion.

  Tsunami turned his head and looked at her as if she just admitted that she drinks bog water. She doesn’t drink bog water and would never recommend it. “Hold on, you don’t know what a photo edit is? How old are you?”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “I believe I’m over 300. The exact number, however, I’m less sure of. Riv has a spreadsheet,” she stated with a simple smile. She and Riv were both working late, and Riv decided it would be a fun project to find a way to track her age in a meaningful way, so he made a spreadsheet. He made himself one too.

  "That—" He paused before continuing, "Makes sense. Okay, right, so a photo edit is when someone takes a photo and changes bits in it on their computer using photo-editing software. It’s all over Saidit and other social media.” He explained awkwardly.

  “Thank you. I am understanding. The box looked like someone added it using this software?”

  “Yes, and badly. It’s like if one of your mushrooms became a sunflower. It stands out,” he added.

  “But now the box is gone.”

  “I kicked it, which brings me to my next problem! It’s just a box that doesn’t belong, and one hit and it’s gone! Even you could disappear in the box.” He paused, “no offence.” He added quickly.

  She brushed off his comment. “How long until the box returns?”

  “A couple of minutes, I think it’s on a cooldown,” he answered her.

  She turned to the orc, hoping he would have a better explanation.

  “It will come back in two minutes," the orc explained. "There used to be one box per quest attempt, but too many parties complained that only one member got to end the war."

  “Thank you for your help. I apologize for any offences that he caused. He is still learning and is very passionate,” she said, hoping they won’t file a complaint.

  “Eh, he’s got a fiery heart, passion, and strength. We all have to learn to temper the flames. I’ll leave you two to it then. If you need anything else, come find me.” He bowed his head before strolling away.

  “While we wait for the box, you are allowed to feel frustrated and angry, but we do not take these feelings out on quest staff. They will not want to work with us if we are shouting like a child who is told, 'No more cookies.'" She sternly said. “Now, what is causing your behaviour?”

  He looked almost like a sullen child as he answered. “The book and the actual quest are entirely different. First, the book promises an active war zone. Instead we get a watered-down attempt at a war zone. Secondly, there is supposed to be a stealth mission. Instead we get a series of planned encounters. Thirdly, we are supposed to be facing a deadly army. Instead we get idiot-proof weapons. There are no stakes with this quest. And lastly, we are supposed to destroy a secret weapon. Instead we hit a box one time and end the war. It’s insulting.” He struggled to keep his temper in check while running through his list.

  “You have an eye for detail that is exceptional.” She learned that praising her team where appropriate helps build respect and trust in her as a leader. “Can you use that to document every instance where the book and the quest are in disagreement?”

  A grin slowly grew on his face. “That’s easy; consider it done.” His smile faded as he looked down. “So, I’m not in trouble?”

  “Do you need an additional consequence?” She asked him simply.

  He shook his head quickly. “No.”

  “Good, when you finish your work, please find Zukyov.”

  Keylynn heard a low groan and followed the noise. She found BEEG struggling to kick one of the false corpses off his foot.

  “Disgusting,” he groaned out, flailing his foot out.

  “Let me help you with that,” she said. He looked up with relief washing over him. He held his foot up while grimacing at it.

  She gingerly grasped the false corpse and had to hold in her shudder. It didn’t feel like a real dead body at all. It was too gooey.

  “Thanks, Keke, hate it here. Barn says to get boss Keke, then I step in body.” He shuddered violently again.

  Hyphae crawled down her arms and wound themselves around the body. She doubted the false dead body was nutritious or tasted pleasing, but her hyphae didn’t share her concerns.

  “I don’t blame you. That doesn’t feel like a body.”

  “Too gooey, like Gwen’s jelly cake three weeks after she makes it.” He explained. His eyes were focused on watching her hyphae digest the body.

  Gwen made jelly cakes for everyone six moons ago to celebrate the harvest moon. BEEG couldn’t bring himself to eat his because it was too pretty, while Keylynn was scared to eat hers. Her jelly cake was mushroom themed and included various vegetables in different stages of goo to show the mushrooms' digestion. Keylynn appreciated the gesture; she was just unsure of how it would feel in her mouth.

  “Yes, that’s it exactly. They are too gooey, yet firm enough to hold their shape.” She agreed.

  Within minutes the body was absorbed, and her hyphae returned, leaving BEEG's foot clean.

  “That better.”

  She smiled. “Let’s go see what Barn needed me for.”

  BEEG lumbered carefully, avoiding stepping in any more bodies. Keylynn has never seen him act so cautious. Barnibus was standing in a cluster of rocks and bodies. BEEG audibly groaned.

  “I’m sure you’re aware of it already, but this is all window dressing, all magic-based, nothing organic at all,” he sounded a little disgusted. He was a purist at heart when it came to dungeons and quests. “There are no traps, which is boring. I’m sure the wonder kid already tested the weapons, but they are all basic. There are countless preventative measures, including preventing death. Pretty sure no one could take a dirt nap here even if they wanted to.”

  She frowned. “I don’t see much dirt myself. A good dirt nap needs good loamy soil.” She mused thoughtfully. She could use a nice cozy dirt nap; it’s been far too long since she curled up on soft loamy soil with the perfect amount of worms and beetles crawling over top.

  “Right,” Barninbus sighed. “By dirt nap I meant die; it might be impossible to die here.” He corrected himself.

  “Yes, of course, I was merely speculating on a dirt nap.” She agreed with a nod, her cheeks red. At least she didn’t manifest any bees or carrion flies. Her corpse flowers must be sated, for now.

  “Anyways, I found this.” He gestured to a small grey rock nestled into reddish-brown rocks.

  Kneeling, she reached her magic out to it gently. It was alive. Against all the odds, something managed to survive and call this barren wasteland home.

  “Easy, little one, I’m here to help,” she crooned gently in Elvish as she reached her hand closer to it. The rock’s skin quivered in fear. It tried to bury itself deeper into the rocks.

  She scowled at the lazy storymancer who chose to use magic to make everything. She gently dug her hands into the hard, rocky soil. “I think we have a baby mimic,” she said to Barnibus. She gently lifted her hands. lifting the mimic with them and stood. She compelled her hyphae to remove all the magic-born dirt and rocks. “Did you find any others?”

  “No, I didn’t. Can’t say I’m surprised. There are some pretty strong pest control wards on this place,” he answered. “As team lead, it’s your call on how we deal with this.” He gestured to the small rock-shaped mimic in her hands.

  Her hyphae cleaned up her hands and healed any cuts that she had. “You must be a very scared, very hungry little survivor,” she crooned to the mimic in Elvish. She grew a dozen small white mushrooms on her hands. They were packed with nutrients. She watched as timidly the creature cracked an eye open and scanned its surroundings. It reached its long purple tongue out and wrapped it around one of the mushrooms and brought it to its mouth.

  “This one is far too small to be a danger, and if there are no others, that leaves us one course of action. We relocate it.” She announced with a smile. Barnibus nodded.

  “If you’re done, I think it’s time we join Dauven; he will find our findings most enlightening,” she said, smiling down at the small mimic as it ate another mushroom. She will need to think of a delightful name for her new mimic.