I felt the scorching heat before everything else.
My eyes barely had the time to snap open–before my body twisted to the side, heaving. I clutched my throat to relieve the suffocating pain but it just made the burning sensation worse. My head was pounding like crazy so it was hard to focus on what’s around me. I tried to rub my eyes on instinct but my soot-covered hands just gave me a sting.
I was in the center of a ruined town, nothing but ashes and collapsed remains for as far as I could see. I couldn’t see any sign of life nor movement, except maybe for a few spots of flames yet to be extinguished. What remained of the architecture didn’t look familiar to any place I’ve seen before.
I stood up surprisingly free from any body aches. My shoes crunched on debris as I walked around the town. I really hoped the bones lying around were just animal bones, but given that the whole place looked like Pompeii, I don’t think they were. It felt unpleasant to breathe; as if ash and the smell of charred decay was fighting to get into my nose.
“Did I just get fucking kidnapped?” I thought to myself. The possibility of being drugged to the point of having no recollection of how I got here sent chills down my spine–my stomach felt queasy at the thought. I tried piecing together where I was before waking up here but it felt like there was a thick fog clouding my brain; no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t remember. “Halt!”
I froze in my steps, unaware that I haven’t been alone this whole time. A cough escaped my mouth, and it reminded me of the dry sting in my throat. “Uh.. I’m halted.” My voice came out hoarse as I turned. Whoever it is that brought me here, I hope it wasn’t this guy. I couldn’t really figure out how to feel as I stared at the man in front of me: he was wearing a simple tunic with an absurdly shiny helmet, and a massive lance strapped to his back–the last fact being the more concerning aspect. He removed his helmet, revealing quite the mousey baby face in aggressive contrast with his manlier physique. He shook his light brown hair into place, the same shade as mine.
“State your name and affiliation, stranger.” He tried to command, but how could I take him seriously? The man looks like he came straight out of a video game–talks like one too. His choice of vocabulary is really weird but we got plenty of weird people in Jersey; where I hope I still am. He had a heavy accent; something clipped and British at the edges, but shaped by Mandarin underneath.. It reminded me of my aunt’s own accent whenever she’d call from Guiyang, except if my aunt had learned English from a British person.
“I come in pea–” I launched into a coughing fit before I could even finish the sentence. Nonetheless, I’m sure he got the gist.
The helmet man grabbed a wet cloth from his shoulder bag and stepped towards me. “Tie this around your face.”
I wrapped it around like a mask: the moisture provided by the cool cloth immediately soothed my throat. “T-thanks.” I said, still a little confused.
"Name, and affiliation, stranger." He commanded once more.
“I’m Maya,” I started, but I had no idea what he meant by affiliation. “I go to Rutgers…?”
“Maya from R-ratgurs..?” He squinted, and I squinted back with how foreign the word seemed to him. Is he playing some sort of character?
“Yeah, Rutgers…Are we not in New Jersey?” I don’t remember leaving the east coast, but there’s just no way someone who lives on the east coast wouldn’t know what Rutgers is. Just how far away did I get taken to?!
He shot me an inquisitive look, “You are dressed quite weirdly.” I was wearing jeans and a hoodie, which were all thankfully intact.
“Wow, man, not cool,” I instinctively shot back. “You know, you’re not so normal-looking yourself–unless you’re a cosplayer, then no offense.”
“C-cosplayer…?” He repeated then paused in contemplation. “Undoubtedly, it must be you.”
“Me?” My eyebrows shot up. “What did I do?” I started to feel uncomfortable under his gaze, mostly because it felt like he knew something I didn’t. “Must be what?” I pressed on, feeling more freaked out by the second.
“I am Xiang Yuan, Commander of the Warwick Knights. You may call me Yuan.” He straightened his posture. “Please, let me lead you back to safety.”
Knights??! Commander!? “Seriously, what is going on?!” That bit slipped out accidentally. I didn’t appreciate the fact that he evaded my questions but I couldn’t say no to the help he offered. Not that I trusted him, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice.
“I may not be the best person to debrief you, so please, trust me for now.” He pleaded so I begrudgingly nodded. I don’t know what I was expecting–possibly a car–but I guess a horse also made sense. Yuan tried helping me up the saddle but I swiveled myself with ease.
“Experienced with horses?” He asked.
“We had them in summer camp,” I mindlessly explained. I was definitely at work at some point, I remember that much. Did Julie and I get assigned to the stables this year? I can't even remember what happened after summer camp, there's no way a drug could do that.
“Fascinating.” Was all he said before we spent the rest of the horseback ride in silence. We were probably riding for about 30 minutes, which made me realize I didn’t have my phone when I tried to check the time. Great.
On the bright side, Yuan was a gracious guide. We stopped every 10 minutes so that the horses and us could hydrate. While I was initially hesitant to accept a drink from a stranger, he made sure to offer me water from the same pitcher he just directly drank from.
On the less bright of sides, he still refused to answer any of my questions but that he can get me to a person who can. At least the trip gave me time to think about what questions I wanted to ask.
We arrived at a makeshift base: sparse tents with bare bone barracks. There was something haunting in the way survival crawled. Fragile yet stubborn. The air buzzed with quiet labor; tending wounds, stirring soup, sweeping the dead dust away. Hope, dressed in grief.
“W-what happened here?” I asked. People all around were dressed just as modestly as Yuan–some even making do with put-together sacks. The attempted effort to clean the place up was admirable but soot was a stubborn stain.
“The Great Takeover.” Yuan solemnly answered. As if I was supposed to just know what that meant.
Before I could ask a follow-up question, a voice called out from behind us. “Who’s the fella with the odd clothes?” The woman asked, her accent fully British.
I turned around to retort, but before I could open my mouth, she took an assertive step towards me and silenced me with a glare. You could tell her level of confidence with the way she stood–straight back and chin up. Her sharp eyes stared me down, daring me to say something back.
I’m usually not one to be speechless but facing pretty women is one of the few exceptions. Her pin-straight long hair looked as black as a void in contrast to her pale skin. The complete opposite of Julie’s light hair with matching honey skin.
“Xizi, she may be the Foretold One.” Yuan spoke up. Are they trying to call me their chosen one?
Maybe I somehow got dropped off an interactive roleplay experience; which would be the best-case scenario for my situation. “Okay! Time out, or something. Can I at least know where I am, and if this is some sort of event–umm–I don’t have money to pay for this, uhh, experience.” I interjected before they could say anything more. “In fact, I may have been kidnapped, I just don’t remember getting here from my own volition.”
Although it made no sense for me to have gotten kidnapped, mind-erased, then discarded in a LARP ground, I couldn't come up with any other scenario. I tried to shove down the alarming anxiety caused by the memory loss by focusing on one thing at a time: figuring out where I am.
The two just stared at me weirdly, I could see a mix of emotions in their eyes: suspicion, sympathy, disappointment. I’ve been very familiar with that last one my whole life. “We should take her to George, immediately.” Yuan addressed Xizi, breaking the silence.
Maybe that’s their manager? It definitely sounded like a boring manager's name. “Yes, please, take me to whoever this guy in charge is.” I responded.
Without a word towards me, Xizi grabbed Yuan’s arm to take him aside. “Are you aware that you can use your head? What if she was sent here on a hit? George could very well be the target.” She argued but she didn’t seem to bother going out of earshot–probably because this is part of the script.
I huffed in annoyance, seeing that they weren’t planning to drop the act. Maybe I have to play along or figure out the safe word so they can drop the bullshit. But as of right now, my best bet is just meeting this George guy.
“Just one look at her, it is plain as day. She is not from here.” Yuan pointed out. I refrained from laughing, that statement was something I’ve heard countless times before, but never from a fellow Chinese person. But I remember they’re supposed to be having their cutscene moment so I just let the script play out; given they weren’t budging otherwise.
Xizi assessed me from head to toe. “I was expecting someone more…extraordinary looking.”
“Damn, I don’t think I look atrocious or anything.” I coldly jabbed back.
Yuan shook his head and walked back towards me, “I apologize for her behavior–pay her no mind. Follow me.” Finally, we started getting somewhere.
“If she attacks him, that’s on your conscience.” Xizi called out from behind us.