When I stumbled for the umpteenth time, I sent the economy to hell and dispatched the order to install some proper lighting. I wasn't a ghost, after all, to roam the place in the dark, hurling curses. Those ruins had stood there with their holes gaping at the world for the last eight hundred years, so another half-hour wouldn't make much difference.
I came across some Orc guards by one of the exits. I told one of them to swap his weapons for a couple of torches and follow me. That was better.
The top platform of the tower was gleaming light blue in the dark. WTF? I hurried up the steps. No nasty surprises this time, luckily: the eggs were so overflowing with mana it was leaking over, wasted, melting away.
Oh. It's been awhile since someone took me to task for forgetting to turn the electricity off. About time the Fallen One arrived and knocked some sense into us. Stealing a look around, I quickly pulled the plug on the chicks, redirecting the mana flow back to the Temple. Then I glanced at the eggs and froze.
Well-nourished and properly formed, they had completed their manifestation in our space and time. Their textured surface swirled with two hundred fifty-six shades of opalescent gray forming complex patterns: a mesmerizing sight sending any careless spectator into a deep trance.
A heavy gauntleted hand shook my shoulder bringing me back to reality.
"D'you want me to go get some more torches, Master?" the Orc torch bearer croaked. "These ones are finished. But it's morning now, anyway..."
Morning? I cast a confused look around, then stared at my clock. Morning it was, already past eight. Did that mean I'd been standing there for over two hours bug-eyed and droopy-mouthed, drooling all over the hatchlings? That was a very curious form of defense. Imagine some curious type like myself wishing to filch a taste of the eggs while the mother hen was away—he'd just freeze, hypnotized, until the dragon came back home grinning, having no need to look for a dessert, least not one that had had the audacity to come and the patience to wait.
If I could only cover our dome shield with an egg shell like that! One glimpse of it could send your surprised enemy into oblivion. A dream waffle.
Taking care not to look at it directly, I tapped the shell with my knuckle. It echoed without breaking. Knock knock, anybody home? I selected one egg as target and read its stats:
Mature Egg of a Bone Dragon. A unique clutch. Chances of hatching a Phantom Dragon: 99.9%. Probable gender: female
Mana: 4,000,000/4,000,000
100% bonus to initial stats.
Do you want to break the egg and help the chick get out?
Do I not? I slammed a virtual fist on the button, flooded with relief like anyone who'd just completed a long and tenuous task.
Yeah, right. Keep on dreaming.
Congratulations! You've learned a skill: Broody Hen.
Now you'll be able to instantaneously hatch any egg of your choice, bringing a new creature into this world.
Oh, no. I had to make sure no one found out about this new ability. I didn't look forward to being nicknamed the Broody Elf for the rest of eternity. My sarcastic friends would be constantly pestering me to hatch eggs for them! Wish I had had this ability in real life. At least then I could get a job at some poultry farm and start raking it in!
Quest completion alert: Grief of a Dragon II. Quest completed!
Reward: a new skill Dragon Whisperer.
Once every twenty-four hours, you will have the ability to divine all hidden gold within a thousand paces, boosting your treasure hunting instincts.
I shrugged. This particular ability definitely didn't look promising. Did they think AlterWorld was stuffed with unclaimed gold? Windows kept popping up, obstructing my view; I swept them away and stared at the egg. What are you like, then, a baby Phantom Dragon?
The shell cracked into perfect petals, opening up. A curious head poked out, shattering the air with a deafening screech that defied the sound barrier. The little chick didn't hold her emotions back. A powerful surge of joy and happiness flooded the place forcing your lips to smile as your heart missed a beat in anticipation of something inevitably wonderful. The baby dragon's tiny armor scales gleamed as she tried to change her colors, chameleon-like, or make herself invisible altogether. Her little fanged face glowed with all the colors of the rainbow which occasionally resonated, making the chick disappear for a few brief moments like a faulty hologram.
She looked around, casting a facetious glance my way baring a threatening upper lip. Then she whistled again, only this time emitting an alarm call filled with uneasiness and loneliness, with her desire to cuddle up to a strong bone chest, trusting it to protect her and conceal her in the swirling darkness. Mom, Mommy, where are you?
Unwillingly I recoiled, covering my ears. This little 'un had to stop it pretty soon. She had no idea of her own ability to jack-hammer other people's heads!
Still, her alarmed squeaks rose to a crescendo of hopeless desperation, finally growing into an eye-watering physical agony, pushing me further and further away. Leaning forward as if against a gust of wind, I tried to stay put without letting it force me off the platform. In the clatter of the stones falling behind my back, I heard the Orc scream as he toppled off the tower. His voice gave me the extra motivation I needed. Why wasn't my appeal for divine help working? Was it because this wasn't a conscious mental attack but a simple amplification of emotion? Jesus.
I should probably let her brother out, too. Together they might cheer up a bit.
Pressing my back against a dangerously loose rampart, I selected the second egg and set the chick free.
Weeeeoo! The second shriek, alarmed and inquiring, joined the song of bitter desperation. A brief pause, a rapid exchange of mental images—then a double surge of anxiety and fear hit my momentarily eased nerves. I collapsed to my knees, groaning with the mental pressure and sniveling with my suddenly bleeding nose.
I barely registered the sound of bare feet slapping quickly against the stone when a disheveled Lena rushed onto the wretched platform. Her slim frame was barely covered by a thigh-long T-shirt, her feet bloodied by her mad sprint across the shards of stone that covered all of the castle's floors. At least she wasn't followed by an equally half-dressed Cryl, saving me from any indecent ideas.
She looked me over, her eyes tearful with sympathy. "Hold on, Max," she gasped, rushing toward the chicks. She struggled to reach and hug both their spiky heads, paying no heed to the blood that started oozing from at least a dozen cuts on her arms and hands, and whispered something very soothing, kissing and stroking the sobbing baby dragons.
The pressure started to subside. The pain and anxiety were still there but at least they didn't make you feel like wanting to jump to your death in a stupid attempt to escape it.
I wiped my still bleeding nose with my sleeve and dried my tears, then struggled to my feet to take a look at the chicks. They were sniveling and complaining, crystal liquid forming in the corners of their eyes. A heavy viscous droplet rolled down a scaly cheek, hardening as it fell.
Ding dong, the vitrified tear rang against the flagstones and rolled toward my feet.
Forcing my cramped muscles to move, I picked up the still-warm crystal.
A True Tear of a Phantom Dragon.
Item class: epic
Effect: +75 to a characteristic of your choice
Holy shit. I'd never heard of anything like it. I didn't even dare to venture a guess at its price. I buried myself in the Wiki pages, scanning the search results, my fingers squeezing the crystal even stronger. Fifty to a hundred grand! The price for a unique object like this floated across a large scale, limited only by the buyer's financial muscle. Not everyone was able to pay the price of a good car for a couple of virtual marbles, but the item's cataclysmic rareness and its properties outweighed any expenses in the eyes of those who understood those things. An item like that could allow you to improve any piece of top gear or create a unique customized set of jewelry tailored to one's particular needs. So for the perma players like myself the stone was priceless.