This Isn't A Game Anymore (VenturianTale fan fiction)

Chapter 13- Achievement Get: Lost

        At first, there was peace.

        ...Again.

        The grass in scattered clumps across the forest swayed peacefully in the wind, the clouds above drifting lazily across the endless expanse of blue. A large, rectangular sun was just above the mountaintops visible in the distance, casting an array of light across the landscape.

        A cow let out a short ‘moo’ of displeasure as a sheep walked right over where it was grazing, and the sheep offered an apologetic look in response. A few pigs clambered haphazardly over one of the cliff sides, making their way to who-knows-where. A small village sat at the base of a large mountain, a larger house made of stone seemingly carved into said mountain at the far side of the village. The rest of the houses were simple structures, constructed using wood, or cobblestone, or something of a similar function. They few denizens of the village were just waking up in the new morning, stirring in their houses or walking around the gravel pathways sleepily.

        But of course, as you and I know, there is no such thing as peace. The concept of peace is simply the world holding its breath, waiting for something else to happen. Fortunately for this world, something was indeed about to happen.

        In a flash of green, a shimmering vortex opened itself up in the sky, sending lightning of the same pigment cascading down to the ground, lashing like whips at the ground. The once-blue sky clouded over with light, pulsing and receding and then pulsing again as the vortex extended into a swirling green tornado. It was a fantastical sight, but unfortunately for the few witnessing it, there was no time to appreciate it. 

        As quickly as it appeared, the vortex dissipated, evaporating in a massive flash the very instant it touched the ground. The tornado collapsed in on itself and the lightning ceased its torrent of blows, simply vanishing into thin air. The vortex paused, pulsed, eventually faded away. The only proof of its existence was a small crater in the center of the forest, cindering ashes surrounding it.

        There was a short interval where absolutely nothing happened, as the world held its breath again. 

        And then everything descended into chaos.

        The village, as expected, was in an uproar as everyone flocked out of their houses and congregated in the streets, shouting or chattering in frightened tones. Eventually the majority of the villagers gathered outside the house that was built into the mountain, pausing to argue briefly over who was to knock. After a brief squabble, a shorter boy was eventually convinced to wake up the mayor, most likely swayed by a bribe of cookies. He hesitantly walked up to the door, a hint of fear echoing in his eyes. He was not, of course, afraid of the mayor, but of his brother. The mayor of the village was a nice man, selfless and brave in the best way. His brother, though, was more… temperamental. You could never tell if the look in his vacant white eyes signaled that he wanted to kill you or he was pleased, but most of the time it didn’t matter because it could change in the matter of moments.

        The boy walked up to the door and paused, glancing back at the expectant crowd with an irritated expression. After the looks of expectancy shifted to annoyance at his hesitation, he took a few more steps forward and raised his hand.

        He knocked once, twice, three times before quickly stepping back. The door swung open a few second later, and the boy let out his breath that he hadn’t even realized that he was holding in the first place. The man in the doorway had a sleepy expression of confusion, leaning on the door with a tired look in his blue eyes.

        “Hello,” He said, trying to sound chipper but ultimately failing in the long run. He then noticed the crowd of about thirty people standing behind the boy. “Erm… Is there a problem…? Or something…?”

        There was a short period of mumbles as the crowd tried to explain, but then quickly decided against it and once again looked to the boy. The boy let out an exasperated sigh and quickly summed up the events of the morning in a short few sentences.

        The man was silent for a moment, thinking hard. He looked up. “Once second. I’ll get ready and we’ll go and scout the area that the… what was it again?”
        The boy glanced back at the crowd, and then looked at the man again. “A vortex, I think.” He concluded.

        The man nodded. “Right. I’ll get ready. If we’re not back within the hour, send out… Someone. Right, someone. Be back in a moment!”

        With that he turned, offered a smile for the crowd, and walked back into the house, the door closing behind him.

***

        The house was, for the most part, completely silent. Torches hung from the walls, flames crackling at their tip and providing a form of light. There were large windows on most of the front walls, also being used as illumination. Paintings and decorations were common throughout most of the rooms, and two staircases led to an upstairs area that was slightly less bright. The entire building held a sort of pleasant feeling. Warm and bright and nice, like a proper home should be.

        It was at this moment that everything exploded.

        Well, not quite. Perhaps that is an overstatement. Rather, the bedroom to the left of the staircase had its door blown off by an explosion from inside. A few seconds after this happened, someone started shouting from inside and the man from downstairs, having been steadily walking up the stairs, began charging as fast as he could towards the exploded room.

        Breathing heavily, the man burst through the doorway. “Are you… okay?” He gasped, leaning on the doorframe. “What happened?”

        The sight that he was met with was quite possible the exact opposite of what one would want to see on a Tuesday morning. The entire interior of the room was scorched a dark charred color, the edges of practically everything singed with ashes. The figure sitting in the center of the mess was not in fact hurt, but rather annoyed beyond the comprehension of most people in such a situation. His entire face was burned, and the front of his blue shirt was charred to a crisp. His jeans had holes in them form the explosion, and to be brief he looked like a mess.

        “Stupid.” He said, his green eyes narrowed. “Too much gunpowder.”

        The man in the doorway sighed. “You think?”

        Potion equipment, or what used to be potion equipment, was scattered around the room as well, shattered or contorted into odd shaped from the heat. The man looked at them, frowning. “How… late were you up?”

        The man on the floor scowled. “Not late enough.”

        A sigh. “You haven’t slept in days, Bry. It’s not healthy.”

        Bry looked up. “But I’m so close! It’s just a matter of measurements…” He trailed off. “I’ve been working on this potion for a very long time, and-“

        “I know, I know.” Said the man, having heard this argument time and time again. “But take a break. You could have been really hurt. Please?”

        Bry frowned. After a moment, he reluctantly nodded. “…Fine. One day.”

        The man nodded in approval. “Good. Now get ready, because we’ve got a mission.”

        Bry groaned. “What now?”

        “Swirling vortex in the sky, apparently.” The man explained. “Appeared a few minutes ago and left something in the forest. We’re gonna go find it.”

        Now interested, Bry stood up. “Give me ten minutes.” With that, he ran from the room.

        The man sighed and leaned the discarded door against the frame. He abruptly turned and walked from the room, grabbing a sword and pickaxe that had been dropped in the rush. Slinging the pick across his back and strapping the sword to his belt, he made his way out of the house to wait for Bry.

        Walking out of the doorway, he stepped into the light and the adventure to come.