Restart Again: Volume 1 Read online

  The rest of the room appeared standard as far as taverns go. Lots of round tables with stools, a rather cozy fireplace with a large stew pot set over it, and plenty of shady corners for illicit meetings, two of which were currently occupied by solitary, hooded figures. In the center of the room, some of the tables had been pulled back to make room for a small stage area, sitting about a foot above the floor. It was empty except for two stools which currently were unoccupied.

  “What can I get for ya, stranger?” A chipper voice asked from behind the bar, startling me. I spun around quickly and was confused to find the area behind the bar still empty. I heard the clinking of glasses from further down the bar, so I stood up to peer behind the counter. A man, standing not four feet high, was rummaging through a shelf beneath the bar. Running along the baseboard of the bar was a series of step stools, each directly across the bar from a patron’s chair. I sat back quickly in my seat, hoping the man didn’t see me staring at him.

  “I’m actually looking to get a room here for a couple of nights. A friend of mine recommended I come here; said you’d know her. Melrose?” I said her name, almost as a question. I hope this isn’t some prank to make me look stupid. Should I really be asking for a discount from this stranger, on the word of another stranger?

  The man’s head popped up in front of me suddenly with a wide grin across his face. “Oh, a friend of Melrose’s! Any friend of hers is a friend of mine.” He held out a small hand. “The name’s Sherman, nice to meet ya!”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Sherman.” I shook his hand and smiled. “So, if I were looking to get a room for...three nights, and maybe some simple meals to eat, how much would I owe you?”

  “Ah, straight to business. You really are a friend of Melrose.” Sherman chuckled. “We don’t have much in the way of food, aside from the stew on the fire that is. Yer welcome to a bowl if you’ve got a room. Three nights, that’d put ya around...25 crowns, courtesy of Melrose.”

  I met his stare blankly. After a long pause, I chuckled nervously, pulling out my coin purse. “25 crowns...that would be...about…” I stalled, fishing through the various coins in my bag, none of which had a crown on them. “Well, Sherman, you see…”

  “Are ya broke, lad?”

  “Well, not technically speaking.” I pulled out a copper coin and a silver coin, placed them down gently on the bar, and slid them over to Sherman quietly. He looked from the coins, up to me, and back down to the coins with a wrinkle in his brow. Picking up the silver coin he flipped it in his palm to observe both faces, and then followed suit with the copper.

  “Yer REALLY not from around here, are ya?”

  “No sir.”

  Sherman stared me down for a moment, and then burst into laughter. I looked away and pursed my lips as my face darkened. “Oh my, that really tickles me.” He tried to regain his composure, wiping a tear from his eye, but another round of laughter caught him unprepared. “I don’t mean to make fun of ya lad, but it’s a funny situation, right? How far away can ya be from where you don’t know what a crown’s worth?”

  I weighed my options momentarily, settling on a shrug. “Very far away.”

  “Right, course ya are.” He grinned a toothy grin, though it was lacking quite a few teeth. “Listen, seeing as yer a friend of Melrose, I’ll help ya out. But in the future, it might not be a great idea to let on you don’t know how the world works around here.” Sherman nodded towards the patrons behind me. “Some people...they may not play fair with ya, if ya catch my drift.”

  Damn it, he’s right. I should know better than this by now. “I appreciate your help, and your honesty.” I gathered my money and placed my coin purse back on my belt. “I didn’t realize how difficult it could be to...adjust to a new city.”

  “Of course, lad, of course.” Sherman hopped down from his step stool and rustled through another cabinet, returning with a palmful of coins. He dropped them down on the bar in front of me. I noticed the familiar pattern of copper and silver coinage I had become acquainted with in the past, although the size, shape and imprinting was different.

  “So. Yer small coin, that’s the crown.” He held up one of the copper coins. “We call it that because...well, that’s easy to figure out.” Indeed, a crown was depicted plainly on both sides of the small coin. “That’s mostly what yer gonna be spending around here. Some call ‘em coppers, some call ‘em crowns, it’s all the same.”

  He moved on to the silver coin, of which there were only a few present. “Yer silver coin is called a stein. Most people, they call ‘em ‘silver steins’. Guess it just rolls off the tongue, ya know?” He handed me the coin to examine. It actually showed three vessels: A stein, a jeweled goblet, and a small cup. Both sides were, again, the same image. “Now, one of these silvers steins is worth 50 crowns. A bit steep, perhaps, but silver is a lot rarer than copper now isn’t it?” I handed the coin back to him, nodding silently.

  Sherman leaned in a bit closer and lowered his voice. “Now, I shouldn’t really be showin’ ya this, but…” He produced a golden coin from his back pocket. “A gold imperium.” He didn’t offer this coin out to me to take, but instead kept it in his upturned palm. This coin was noticeably more intricate than the others; It was roughly the same size as the other two, but the artwork was much more detailed. It showed what looked to be a massive castle, with an impressive spire in the center. At the top of this spire, a window was punched out through the coin, leaving just a sliver of a hole.

  “Impressive, ain’t it?” He withdrew the coin and placed it back in his pocket, patting it lightly. “They say the picture is harder to copy this way, ‘specially that little window bit. Keeps the counterfeiters away, I ‘spose.” Carefully, he began to pick up his other coins, silvers first. “One imperium is worth 20 silvers. That one coin in my back pocket could rent a room here for a whole season.” He scooped up the remaining coppers and gave me a wink. “Needless to say, let’s keep my finances a secret from the other guests, hmm?”

  I nodded quickly. “Of course. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “That’s good to hear, lad.” Sherman hopped back down to return his coins to their proper location. “Now,” he said from somewhere under the bar, “about yer payment.”

  “Right.” I fished a silver coin out from my purse. “If you can find a place to exchange this for a stein, maybe we could call it even?”

  “Aye, that could work.” Sherman’s head popped back up in front of me, a semi-toothed smile stretched across his face. He reached out and snatched the coin from my hand with alarming speed. “I’d recommend ya find a place to make some exchanges yerself. Maybe somewhere more...official than the place I’ll be going.” He gave me a knowing raise of his eyebrows. “Maybe the Imperial Bank? I’m sure they’d be interested in the fascinatin’ coins ya got in that pouch.”

  Anything to avoid a third encounter like this one. “I’ll do that. Hopefully, this Imperial Bank is in the city?”

  “Indeed it is. Further in towards the keep, in the Noble’s District. I suppose you’ll be needin’ directions?” He laughed at his own joke. “That’ll hafta wait I’m afraid. Bank would be closed by the time ya got there.” Sherman disappeared momentarily and returned with a key attached to a small block of wood. “This’ll be for yer room. If you go up those stairs,” he motioned down the bar to a small staircase set in the corner, “and follow the hallway right, should be the last door on yer left.”

  I took the key and bowed my head gratefully. “I truly appreciate the help you’ve given me today, Sherman. I hope I can repay the favor, somehow.”

  “I’ve got half a dozen ideas already, lad.” Sherman chuckled. “You look like someone who can handle himself, aside from a lack of street smarts o’course. Anybody who can get things done is a valuable asset ‘round these parts.” He motioned me away towards the stairs. “We can talk about that tomorrow. I’m sure yer tired from yer...long trip here.”

  “That I am.” I sighed deeply, only now rea
lizing how tired I really was. Before I could stand up to go, however, my stomach gave a rather audible grumble. “I suppose I might be a bit hungry, as well.”

  “As I said before, I don’t keep much in the way of food. I can get ya a heel of bread and some ale, or a bowl for some stew.”

  “Ale and bread would be great.” I pulled my coin purse out once again. “How much will it run me?”

  Sherman held up a hand and shook his head. “Consider it part of yer room charge.” He hopped off his stool and clattered around under the bar. I could just barely make out the wisps of thin white hair on his head bobbing down the length of the bar, so I stood and followed him down. “Though, there is one thing I could use from ya.”

  I paused, uncertain. “What would that be?”

  A mug of ale, foaming and running over, appeared atop the bar. “Yer name, lad.” His hair bobbed back down a ways to a small cabinet where he pulled out a loaf of dark bread. “If we’re to be helpin’ each other out, I might need to call ya something, someday.” He reappeared before me and handed me my bread and ale.

  “How rude of me, missing introductions.” I smiled pleasantly. “You can call me Lux. Happy to be of service to you, Sherman.”

  “Lux. Lux.” He tested the name out loud a few times. “Alright, Lux. When yer all prepared, head on down here tomorrow and we’ll have a chat.”

  “I look forward to it.” I held up my stein in thanks and headed to the staircase. I ate the bread, just a nibble at first, but growing in voracity as I climbed the stairs. It’s certainly not the best thing I’ve ever eaten, I thought to myself, but something about that...journey leaves you hungry. At the top of the stairs I found a single hallway running straight ahead with doors lining both sides. Four doors down, the hallway turned 90 degrees to the right and ran down to a dead end.

  As I reached the end of the hallway, I pulled out the wooden block Sherman had given me. A badly faded symbol on the block matched the small metal engraving hammered into the door. The lock was simple: A single hole for a key and a small metal latch below it to lift. The key turned hard, and the door seemed to stick after the latch had given way. I put my shoulder to it, opening the door at the cost of some spilled ale. I grimaced, now short on drink and slightly sticky.

  The room was unimpressive, but standard as far as my experience with inns had been in the past. One small chest of drawers. A single, long bed with a well-worn mattress and sheets. Wooden, unadorned walls save for a single small window at the back of the room. A nightstand with a candle, almost completely melted to the base. Overall, a passable room for the price.

  After locking the door behind me I crossed the room, set my ale down on the nightstand, and flopped down on the bed in relief. I sighed, more of an exasperated yell from the volume, and rubbed my face. “Again, again, again...again.” I allowed myself a minute to wallow in my depression. Get it out now. Feel pitiful, you deserve it. I stretched out, eyes closed, every breath another deep sigh. Minutes passed as I slowly began to destress, my sighs becoming less comically loud and the rubbing of my face less aggressive. Alright, time to get to work.

  ***

  3. JOG MY MEMORY

  I sat up, stretched my arms out above my head, and hopped to my feet. Time for an in-depth analysis. Up first....magic systems. Running my hand across my bandolier, I pulled a silver globe from its resting place and turned it slowly in observation. Still intact. Honestly, surprising for a mana construct. From the top of the bandolier I withdrew a well-hidden silver pin. The bottom was a slender hollow shaft, leading up to an intricately ornamented mechanism on top. Thin silver filigree wove around delicately to create what looked like a rose bulb, in the center of which sat a small button.

  Taking the globe in one hand and pin in the other, I quickly punctured the surface. Although it looked and felt like a solid silver sphere, aside from its near weightlessness, the pin passed through with almost no resistance. Alright, moment of truth. I pressed the button in the device’s center and immediately determined it was working at full efficiency; the dull tugging at the edge of my mind and draw on my stamina was an unmistakable feeling. It stopped after only a moment as I released the button and removed the needle, but I couldn’t stop a smile from coming to my face, feeling relieved. Mana still works the same as it has before. Excellent.

  The globe began to warm in my hand and glowed a faint orange against the growing shadows in my room. It swelled quickly, growing to about the size of a softball. The matte silver exterior became translucent and I could see a shining orange liquid under the surface. I spun it lazily, admiring the pleasant glow. Time for an efficacy test. Setting the orb down on the bed next to me, I held the silver needle to my palm and pricked the skin. Blood slowly began to well up where the tip had pierced my flesh. Ouch.

  I returned the needle to its secure location at the top of my bandolier and retrieved the orange globe. Balancing it on my bleeding palm I clenched my fingers closed around it, bursting it like a water balloon. The liquid spilled out over my hand, sending a tingling rush up through my arm. The excess fluid ran between my fingers, misting away in moments where it landed on the wooden floorboards beneath my feet. In just a few moments my hand was dry, and the room looked exactly as it had before with no signs of orange liquid anywhere. I poked at my palm gently and was pleased to find the flesh perfectly repaired with no hint of an injury.

  “Complete success, alright!” I jumped up from the bed, pumping my fist in victory. After the moment passed, I felt rather silly standing and celebrating by myself, and sat back down quickly. Through absent minded muscle memory, I ran my hand along the bandolier and found the empty slot from which I had taken the silver orb. On the opposite side of the clasp, I depressed a small switch. I felt the slight drain of mana use as a new silver orb grew out from the bandolier, replenishing my stock to the max of four.

  No need to test the other three now. The concept is proven...and I’m getting tired. As if to punctuate the thought I yawned, bringing a tear to my eye. “Aaaalright, one more test, and then sleep.” I wiped my eyes and stood up again, unslinging the empty scabbard from my back. Nothing flashy, proof of concept, and that’s it. I held the scabbard out horizontally in front of me with my left hand and reached out to where the grip of the sword would be with my right. Closing my eyes and exhaling, I curled my fingers slowly until I felt the familiar worn leather grip I had spent so long making. As the mana drain tingled in my fingers a grin curled my lips. With a swift pull, the room was filled with a beautiful ringing of metal on metal.

  The setting sun shone gloriously off the bastard sword’s blade. It was personally hand forged manasteel and engraved with a set of Old-world runes. Looking over the weapon filled me with a satisfaction and happiness I hadn’t felt in a long time. “Hey beautiful. I’ve missed you.” I tossed the scabbard down onto the bed and traced my finger along the runes with a loving tenderness. My hand slid down the length of the blade, over the ornate guard, and came to rest against the small golden band wrapped just under the pommel. The joy I felt moments before became tinged with sadness and longing. I spent a long time wrestling with the emotions as they rose and fell: nostalgia, wistfulness, joy, sorrow, anger, regret.

  The room falling into darkness finally snapped me out of my sentimental self-reflection. Looking out the window, I noticed the sun was now completely set, replaced by a beautiful full moon. How long was I sitting here? Slumping back down to the bed, I gingerly placed the weapon back into the scabbard and leaned it against the bedpost. Running my hand across the pommel I expended a small amount of mana and the blade flashed away, leaving an empty scabbard once more.

  I yawned more violently than before, reflexively stretching until both my shoulders popped. I rolled my neck around until it yielded a similar pop, then stood slowly and began the process of preparing for a good night’s rest. I removed my coin purse from my belt and set it on the bedside table. The chest of drawers across the room was just large enough for my bandolier, cloa
k, shirt and leathers. Slipping out of my boots, I took a moment to be thankful for anti-fouling enchantments placed on my socks and undergarments. “I get the feeling that I won’t be…” A yawn interrupted my muttering, “...I won’t be finding much deodorant around here.”

  With my preparations completed I crawled underneath the single blanket on the small mattress. The fabric was a bit scratchy but provided some warmth against the chilly room. I take my cloak for granted too often. Curling up to combat a small shiver, I closed my eyes and rested my head on the straw pillow. Sleep came almost instantly as the weight of my world finally crashed down on me in full.

  ---

  The sky overhead was bright blue and completely clear of clouds. I was sweating from exhaustion, and the sun beating down from above made the day uncomfortably hot. The rhythmic chopping of my woodsman’s axe was the only sound in the clearing save for a slight rustling of leaves in the weak breeze. My shoulders ached from a day of exertion, but it was a sweet pain. It felt good to be strong, and to use that strength to achieve a tangible goal.

  I leaned on the axe for a moment, wiping my brow and letting out a satisfied sigh. For my entire life, I had never felt like I knew what my purpose was. Bouncing from job to job with a half-finished computer science degree, renting a small one-room apartment barely big enough for a bed, a shower and some choice kitchen appliances, and random one night stands that never resulted in a second date...It left a hole I could never figure out how to fill. I was about to be in my thirties and felt like my life to that point had been completely wasted.

  Until the day when everything changed. I furrowed my brow, doing my best to think back to what happened, but as usual I came up empty. I was watching TV from my bed, half drunk and dozing off, and then...blackness. Blackness, and pain. With a shiver, I put that particular memory aside and reflected on my life after arriving here.