Other than Jasper’s name, there was no information on his location, and it made no mention of his guild. It was the same for all the greyed-out names.

  Caleb looked at the names at the top—the ones in bright white.

  Alina Beaumont | Guardians of Justice | The Cursed Sanctum

  Meriel Thomas | Guardians of Justice | The Cursed Sanctum

  Jarrod Chase | The Reckoners | Telkand

  Hardeep Singh | Annihilation | Vundan

  Name. Guild. Location.

  Of the four, he knew Hardeep and Alina well. Especially Alina. Both were officers in Annihilation, but now it seemed Alina had joined another guild. Which was concerning because she was Jasper’s girlfriend. She did everything with him in the game, except when one or the other was benched for a raid like she’d been for the latest one.

  Caleb was certain she was still there when he was last playing. Just before all this happened. She wasn’t the type to quit the guild in anger because she wasn’t chosen for a progression raid. They’d had a few players like that before, but Alina wasn’t that sort. And she wouldn’t leave Jasper like that. Those two were inseparable. They did everything in real life like they did in the game.

  He glanced at the letter that he still held in his hand. Kingsley had warned him away from Annihilation. Alina leaving gave it more credibility for sure.

  Still, he needed information.

  “Draft Mail.”

  A screen came up in front of his face, very similar to an email, with the ‘From:’ field already filled in with his name.

  “To: Jasper Stone. Alina Beaumont. Hardeep Singh.”

  “Subject: Looking for Jasper.”

  “Compose.”

  A little marker jumped to the body of the mail, flashing.

  “Hey guys. This is Caleb Stone. Jasper’s father. Jasper, if you see this, please get back to me asap. I know something’s happened on Cytheria. Your mother and I are worried. I came here to find you and find a way out together. Just tell me where you are.

  “Alina/Hardeep. Same goes for you guys. Please get back to me. Tell me what’s going on here and if you know where Jasper is.”

  “Send mail.”

  The screen folded like an envelope and whooshed away, sliding off to the right before it vanished from view.

  Since he couldn’t change his character, he needed to see what he was working with.

  “Status.”

  The character name had changed to his real one, similar to the names on the friends list. His eyes passed over the [Mastery] section. He’d never seen that before and he’d never heard about them either. He’d have to figure that out later, but it was the stats he was interested in.

  The Tamer class wasn’t meant to have stats until the patch release—the one the developers had been promising in a couple of weeks, just before Christmas.

  The patch that would make the Tamer class playable.

  Maybe this time they really were releasing the update and the code had already been written. Added to the main game in preparation for the patch. Had it gone live with whatever else had happened here?

  Whatever it was, the class could clearly level now.

  A notification pinged in the top-right of his vision.

  “Notification.”

  Mail unable to be sent: Player Hardeep Singh not found.

  Mail unable to be sent: Player Jasper Stone unavailable.

  His heart dropped.

  “Friends.”

  It took a moment but he found Jasper’s name in the list, still greyed out, a wave of relief passing over him. But there were only three names at the top now, in brilliant white. Hardeep’s was missing. Caleb gulped. He knew what that meant, but as much as he was relieved that Jasper’s name was still on the list, he wondered what it meant that Jasper was unavailable.

  All the more reason to hurry and find answers.

  He checked his inventory. One slot was taken by his Sanctuary Stone. Another seven contained the Heritage gear he could equip, providing XP bonuses and extra stats from level ten. If he could round it out with the Heritage weapons and trinket that could only be obtained in Cytheria, he’d have even more bonuses. Provided it worked like the game. Half of the remaining inventory slots held various materials and a variety of potions.

  He had the money, the gear…and the class changes might be something he could work with. There was no outright bad class in the game. Some weaker than others but each had their advantages.

  Besides, it’s not like he needed to max. He just needed to stay alive long enough.

  He removed the vest he wore and then the linen pants, depositing them to his inventory, along with the letter and the other change of clothes Kingsley had left for him. Then he retrieved his [Pristine Colossal] Heritage gear.

  The items shimmered into existence by his feet, hovering slightly above the ground before the clothes landed with a soft plop, the boots settling beside them with a gentle thud. He dismissed the screen.

  He knelt down to the clothes at his feet. Most of it was dark-brown leather. Light. Breathable. There was a long-sleeved shirt made from cotton, and a linen coif too. He pulled the pants on first, holding them up with the leather belt. Then he pulled the cotton shirt over his head, and the leather tunic over that, its hood hanging down his back. Then he slipped on the boots. They were durable, the leather worn and rough. Finally, he pulled on the gloves.

  The clothes fit his athletic build well enough. His skin was a little darker than in the outside world—a more olive, tanned tone and his black hair was longer, hanging to his shoulders. He still had the same angular jaw with stubble, and strong cheekbones. He’d always spent a long time designing his avatars, making them look as close to himself as possible, but with certain changes. Hence the long hair and more muscular body. Not that he was vain or anything like that. Not at all.

  He allowed himself a wry smile as he wrapped the coif around his head.

  Then he picked up the sheathed dagger on the shelf, wrapped his fingers around the leather padded hilt and pulled the blade out. It was a foot or so long with a simple black hilt and a muted silver blade. He tested it in his hand, felt the balance. It was a short blade. He’d have to get up close and personal to use it. But it would do until he could find something better.

  He sheathed the weapon, then attached the sheath to his belt.

  Then he grabbed the small container on the shelf and pulled out the heartloaf. He gave it a little sniff and inspected it for any mould, but upon seeing nothing, he tore a small part off. He inspected it some more, bringing it close to his face. Then he took a small bite. It was soft with a delightful sweetness to it.

  He gave it a moment, but he doubted it was poisoned. It would require a particular level of sadism to keep him locked in here for however long only to kill him with some bread when he woke up.

  He tore off about half and put the rest back into the container, before stuffing the bread into his mouth. Surprisingly, it was enough to satiate his hunger and make him feel like he’d had a full meal. He took a sip of water too, not realising how parched he felt until the refreshing liquid trickled down his throat.

  He deposited both items into free slots in his inventory, then looked up at the door above that had a rotary lock. He had a brief glance around the musty cellar, making sure there wasn’t anything he missed before climbing the ladder rungs and turning the lock.

  He pushed the door open a little, stepping up one more rung and peeking through the opening. Soft green blades of grass and fallen leaves stretched ahead of him. A short distance to the side, there stood a log cabin, nestled among the trees at the edge of the clearing, the early buds of spring growing across their branches. He listened out but other than the soft rustle of leaves, he heard little else.

  He flung the cellar door open, climbed the rest of the way up the ladder and stepped into the clearing onto soft ground. Above the canopy of the trees to his right, he could see the shapes of mountains far into the distance. A cold breeze made him pull the collar of his tunic up.

  Until he understood what was going on, he decided it would be best to follow the instructions Kingsley had left. True, the man had locked him away in a cellar. Ostensibly, to keep Caleb alive but the fact of the matter was—it was one of those things that was so outrageous, it had to be true. That and the fact that Alina had left Annihilation. It gave Kingsley more credence.

  Besides, it was the only lead he had right now.

  “Map.”

  A screen materialised showing his immediate location, a small circular black marker with a triangular point indicating the direction he faced. He zoomed out as far as he could, which wasn’t much. The map showed most of the peanut shaped island, a mountain range on the eastern side carving the island in two from north to south, surrounded by forest and fields. He was about halfway from the northern tip, where he could see a quest marker—a yellow circle for his destination.

  He dismissed the map and began walking towards that direction when a sound from the cabin made his head whip to the right. He wasn’t sure if his ears were playing tricks on him, but then he heard another noise. It sounded like a door slamming. Inside.

  His heart beat a little faster.

  He debated whether to move on or not. He didn’t want to have something following at his back and ambushing him when he least expected it, but he also didn’t want to run into something beyond his current ability to deal with.

  Best to move on and get distance to the cabin as quickly as possible.

  He turned back to the forest but barely took two steps past the cabin when a low trill made him freeze. He slowly turned to the source of the sound.

  A small creature, a little over two-feet tall stood by the cabin’s side, an apple in one clawed hand and a dagger in the other. It had a crocodile-like head with a long snout filled with sharp teeth, two sleek horns curving from its forehead and it stood on powerful hind legs, black claws protruding from each of its three toes. Reddish-brown skin covered its lean, muscular body and it was dressed in little more than a loincloth. A tail swished furiously behind it.

  A kobold.

  And Caleb knew where there was one, there was always more.

  The kobold stared at him warily, yellow eyes gleaming.

  Then it shrieked—a shrill, piercing sound that rang in Caleb’s ears.