Facing Fear | ✓ ONC 2023 Honorable Mention

6 | Healing Rain

"Stamina translates to discipline. Speed to decisiveness. Agility to adaptability." Mori tripped over a tree root but regained her balance before she face-planted. Neither of which I have when it comes to the last two. She sighed, fingering the shimmering blue knife sheathed at her waist.

Turned out Cap dealt in arms dealing and Ronin had called him in to help her pick out some close-range weapons. Then he'd disappeared for a few hours while Cap taught her the basics in stats and economy.

"You're a quick study," Ronin commented over his shoulder. He'd taken point as they progressed through the forest of the third ring, a pine cone held in his hand. Whenever a small forest creature crossed their path, mainly squirrels and rabbits so far, Ronin chucked one of the spiky projectiles at it. A glowing tail like a comet would appear on the pine cone before it struck the animal and killed it.

Mori hated it when he did that and silently begged the little forest dwellers to stay far away. Cap had explained monster drops to her, how most gave a small amount of meat upon dying which depended on the size of the creature. Players needed to eat to keep their stamina bar full. If it emptied, all their other stats would be halved. Mori knew that, knew the animals were made of pixels and not flesh and blood.

She still didn't like hearing their shrieks of terror before they died.

Accuracy translates to patience. Defense to loyalty. Health to compassion.

Strength translates to courage.

The recitation kept her sane. Every so often, Mori glanced at her stat sidebar. Like a child wanting to grow up quickly, she hoped against reason that the next time she looked, she'd be faster, stronger. The golden bar for strength hovered at two stars, but only because of the boost the earring gave. She'd tapped it to gold after taking a swipe at a practice dummy with her new knife and leaving a mere scratch.

Am I really that weak?

Ronin halted his march and turned to her. "Strength isn't everything," he said quietly, cluing Mori in to the fact she'd spoken aloud.

"That's easy for you to say. You're not lacking in any stat," she argued. Mori knew she wasn't being fair—that Ronin didn't have control over her stats—that he'd been here far longer than her. But she disliked feeling useless, a burden he'd have to hard carry.

Ronin rolled his eyes. "Do you realize how overpowered near-perfect accuracy is? If you tap your earring to grey and raise it to six stars aka supernova, you'll never miss. Sure, you're vulnerable in close combat and to monsters that can't be taken down with ranged weapons, but that's why I'm here. That's why we're a team."

Mori almost backed down—she'd never been one to pick a fight. Yet the bitter feeling burned in her chest and she knew she needed to spew it out so it wouldn't fester. "What kind of a Fearless am I if I'm not courageous at all? What chance do I have in a world named Valor and a game that's literally called Facing Fear?"

"You have a very good chance," Ronin said after a moment of silence. "Listen, kiddo. None of us get to pick the hand of cards we're dealt, not in this life or the other. But you can either spend the whole game peeking at someone else's cards and wishing you had them or you can play your best game with the hand you've got." The other player's cloak bled to blue and a quiet fervor stoked his words.

"I think I get what you're saying." Mori flipped the coin at her throat over in her fingers. "This isn't a competition against the other players, not like most games. This is about beating the yesterday you and becoming better."

"Eh...something like that. I thin—"

A woman's scream interrupted his answer. A second one followed, shriller than the first.