“Hey, Alderon!” A familiar feminine voice called out in my head, greeting me happily.
A smile broke out across my face. My shoulders relaxed from their tense position. Her voice makes everything better…. Well, her ‘game’ voice. I thought, shaking my head. Not again, I have to stop thinking about the real her.
“Hey Alaraya, been waiting long?” I called out to her mentally, my own voice happy and relaxed.
“Not really, it’s been kind of lonely though. Everyone else went off doing some task or another with their partners several minutes ago, but you’re here now. Also, I found us a good one. A wolf gang has been terrorizing the East forest. Reports claim that fifty wolves have been sighted. You up for a good fight?” Her voice was smiling, like she already knew how much I wanted a good, mind-numbing battle, how much I needed it.
I laughed to myself silently. It’s like she knows how I feel before she even sees me, yet she continues to claim that she isn’t psychic.
“Of course, question is, can you keep up with me?” I grinned, joking with her like I do every day.
Her laugh echoed through our IGMCC (in game mental communication connection). Oh God, a person can get drunk off of her laugh. I froze in mid-stride and mentally kicked myself for thinking it. Arrg, why do I continue to think about her like that!?! We are just friends, FRIENDS!
I took a minute to look around and see where I was. The path was one I recognized, a dirt road I have followed ever since I settled in this town a good two months after I started playing ‘Reincarnation’. The path progressed from the housing complex that my character lives in, to the little tavern my friends and I claim as our turf. I looked over to the tavern and right outside the doorway Alaraya was leaning against a column, her light thin frame relaxed, her dark crow hair falling gently around her face and shoulders.
She turned her head, looking around at the familiar shop fronts and saw me, standing there in the middle of the way. Even on a busy day she could spot me through the crowd easily, my 6’5” thin frame made me look like a stick in a pile of hay, not to mention my shoulder length twilight black hair and stormy gray-blue ice eyes, but today was slow, most everyone was working or at home so very few people walked along the road. I was on display for her to see. As she did, her eyes lit up and her smile turned into a bright moon, small and shy yet beautifully bright. I stared at her for what seemed like forever, till I got the feeling that I was making a fool of myself. I continued walking down the road, a hand running through my already spiky hair, thinking as I walked, I am a mess. A hopeless, romantic mess.
© Copyright 2016 Iris Silverson. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Fantasy
Short Story / Fantasy
Short Story / Literary Fiction
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