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A bead of flame fell from his palm.

Pyre Ignited.

Your respawn location has been set to the Steps of Penance.

The Fire Oppa stokes the embers of your conviction.

Health, Stamina, Ampoules, and Spell Gems restored.

Slowly, the ashes began to remember their purpose. Embers peeked through the dust, then tiny tongues of flame danced upon the powder until a small cozy fire sprang forth in a flash consuming his hand.

If it was anything other than a Pyre, his hand would have been burned to a crisp. Instead, Jacob felt only comfort and warmth.

“Well, that sure didn’t take you long,” Fire Oppa said, making his way out of the ashes and shaking them loose from fiery fur. “Steps of Penance, huh? Not bad, not bad at all.”

Jacob noticed the Fire Oppa burned a little brighter, stood a little stronger.

The husk, though he looked like a Vacant, did not act aggressively like one. He sat propped up against the wall watching Jacob with a curious expression. Filthy bandages were wrapped all over his withered limbs, and his expression was one of sorrow instead of the typical blind rage seen on most Vacant.

“Can he see you?” Jacob asked the Fire Oppa, lowering his voice so only the small creature could hear him.

“Nope. He can hear you, but I’m beyond his awareness. He is linked to you, however, as are most of the sentient creatures that still possess a spark of their soul still.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Normally, if you rest at a Pyre, every monster comes back, right? Well, those with some shred of sentience still left become… what’s the word… entangled with you. Their timestreams join your own, and if you kill them….”

Jacob nodded his understanding. If he killed the husk against the wall or any creature that could likely be reasoned with, they would be gone for good. At least to Jacob’s reckoning.

It was a tactful warning about taking unnecessary precautions against creatures that might not be aggressive. How many such entities had he taken out on his first playthrough?

Pyresouls terrified him back then. He hadn’t yet been hardened by the reality of the Collapse and the edge-of-death that every day brought. Zombies used to be a deep fear of his.

When they became an everyday affair, one that often needed to be violently dealt with, they lost their fearful edge. He hated them, and that hatred gave him the power to push past his fear.

“You got a name?” Jacob asked the husk.

For a long moment, the husk stared pensively at him, gap-toothed and slackjawed. Eventually, he roused from his stupor and said, “Brother Aker. And you?”

“Jacob.”

“Brother Jacob, how nice to make your acquaintance. You know, the world’s going to end.”

Jacob swallowed hard and stared at Brother Aker. “In many ways, it seems like it already has.”

“Too true, too true indeed.” Aker wagged a desiccated finger at him. “You Penitent, always so perceptive. But enough doom and gloom! I see you have some Souls on you. Seeing as you’re a man of faith such as myself, I would consider it an honor to trade with you.”

There was nothing he ever read about a man named Brother Aker on any board or in any conversations with Alec. Jacob looked down at his ring, the black teardrop-shaped jewel glittered in the dancing firelight.

Would Brother Aker have attacked him if he didn’t wear the ring? Or would he have said something else entirely and refused to trade with him?

In the days before the Collapse, people who had left Pyresouls early or were disqualified had started to put together a repository of information. One of them was a list of NPCs – or what they thought were NPCs at the time – that could be traded with or used to get unique gear and quests.

At the time, everybody thought Pyresouls would open up to the general audience after the competition, and many people – even those who barely left the first Pyre out of fear – were eager to jump in again and explore the dark world of Lormar.

Of course, it didn’t happen like that. The game became all too real, and without the life-sustaining Pyres to respawn or improve one’s parameters.

“All right, Brother Aker,” Jacob said, “what have you got to trade?”

9

As it turned out, Aker had a lot to sell.

[Brother Aker’s Shop]

[Repair Powder] -- 500 Souls

[Throwing Knife] -- 10 Souls

[Firebomb] -- 50 Souls

[Repair Kit] -- 2,000 Souls

[Dagger] -- 1,300 Souls

[Shortsword] -- 1,600 Souls

[Hatchet] -- 1,450 Souls

[Club] -- 1,500 Souls

[Bladed Whip] -- 3,200 Souls

[Buckler] -- 1,800 Souls

[Arrow] -- 10 Souls

[Large Arrow] -- 50 Souls

[Bolt] -- 30 Souls

[Large Bolt] -- 80 Souls

[Holy Water] -- 500 Souls

The prices, while high, weren’t particularly surprising. Merchants that were found outside of “safe” areas usually charged a premium. In a world where being without a weapon was synonymous with a death sentence, weapons were always expensive.

With a quick glance at his current stock of 4,727 Souls, he was in a good position to buy anything Aker had for sale. Unfortunately, Aker didn’t have any armor. Not that he expected him to.

The nearest merchant that sold armor was quite a ways away. By the time he got to him, he would have better armor than the rusted and flimsy [Chainmail] that wretch sold.

[Firebombs] were useful if he ran into an enemy weak to fire but he had other plans for those types and wasting Souls so early seemed foolish. With any luck, he would have a better weapon than a [Shortsword] soon enough.

Fighting with the [Mace] was a lot harder than he thought it would be. And though his skill continued to rise at an astonishing rate, it paled in comparison to what he expected from wielding a sword.

The weapon was undeniably strong, far stronger than he originally gave it credit for. The problem was its reach was so short that it required him to get far too close for comfort to get in a proper hit.

His preferred weapon, the [Longsword] had a significantly longer reach and could deal two types of

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