Amelia Thornheart Chapter One: The Vengeance

The first thing Alia noticed upon waking was the lack of pain. She had beco so used to either the rotting ache of her disease or the sharp pain of needles that she had forgotten what it felt like to not be in so form of agony.

Her body felt floaty and warm and her mind, normally racked with exhaustion and headaches, felt clear and rested. Alia set about trying to morize these feelings she had long forgotten.

After a few monts, she decided to risk flexing a few toes and found with delight this didn’t cause shooting pains. She moved a leg, and then an arm, and then deciding to risk it all, did sothing she hadn’t been able to do in years.

“Mmmmmtth!”

She stretched like a cat, feeling the satisfaction rivet through her body. Surely she had died and this was heaven!

Although, she was definitely lying on a hard wooden floor and that didn’t seem very heaven-like at all. Not that she was complaining, compared to her years in the hospital a floor like this was welco. Even so, she should probably open her eyes and see where she was.

A wooden ceiling looked back at her, striated with dark beams. Alia sat up and found she was in so kind of office or study. The walls were covered with bookcases, cabinets, and tables and where there was spare wall there were paintings and even the mounted head of a moose. Centered in the room, in front of her, was an ornate desk and leather chair flanked by two large windows. Behind her was a pair of double doors.

Using the desk as a handhold Alia slowly stood up, and found she still wasn’t in pain! Her knees didn’t feel like they would collapse under her own weight!

“I’m standing up!” She exclaid to herself and the world.

She took a few steps back and forth and then a few more. The feeling of not being weak was intoxicating. She even did a few jumps, her blond hair rising and falling in waves.

Wait, her blond hair?

Alia grabbed her hair and examined it. It was definitely blond, practically golden, and not dyed. Her hair was supposed to be mousy brown, not blond. Alia looked over the rest of her body and found she was wearing a simple grey top and shorts that hung loosely, leaving her midriff and legs rather bare.

She looked at her feet, which were definitely not her feet. Alia had spent countless hours looking at her toes at the end of the hospital bed and these were not her toes. These were not her fingers.

This was not her body.

Alia looked around frantically for a mirror and found one hung by the stuffed moose head. She raced to it and stared at her reflection, not quite believing what she was looking at.

There was no doubt, this was the body of Alia Thornheart, the character she had spent years leveling in the hospital! But why did she look like this pretty blond human? Alia Thornheart was a demonic combat mage with horns and black wings!

Ah.

Alia rembered the last ti she logged in she had taken part in a guild social event where they all took polymorph potions to look like the opposite of their normal characters. To make things even more amusing they undertook roles that were equally different for that night’s PVE events.

So, Alia Thornheart the demonic mage of destruction and terror was instead played as an innocent blond human divine healer!

Polymorph potion or not, why was she in the body of her ga character? Was she still logged into the ga world? No, this was not a neurolink-enhanced ga experience, nor was it a dream. Alia simply knew on an almost instinctive level that this was very much reality.

Does that an so great power had recreated the world of the ga in so pocket of the universe, or did this world always exist, and the ga was made to replicate it for entertainnt purposes?

“Status” she muttered.

Nothing. No floating ga screen. Alia tried a number of other phases as well as trying to simply will the character screen into this new reality but nothing happened. She did however beco aware of her vast reserves of aether dwelling inside her.

Aether. It was what the ga called mana and was the main resource in most magic disciplines. As a combat mage Alia had spent an enormous amount of ti completing quests and hunting titles to maximize her aether capacity and regeneration.

Among her guildmates, her min-maxing had earned her the nickna of the “Aether Addict”.

Could she cast magic?

Canonically magic was cast by your in-ga character speaking the incantation. As part of your build, you were able to select spells that your character would understand on an instinctive level and be able to cast without a verbal component. This led to a lot of strategy in PVP whereas in PVE all spells could be cast instantaneously as long as you reduced the cast ti further enough.

Well, nothing ventured nothing gained.

First circle, Ward of Thew. She said in her mind, willing the magic to manifest. She felt her aether tremble as if it wanted to move but couldn’t quite find the energy.

First circle, Ward of Thew. With a bit more force of will, her aether twisted and turned as the spell took effect. She imdiately felt stronger and full of vigor, like she could stop a blade with her bare hands. Her skin took on a golden glow which matched what she rembered from the ga.

The cabin was bathed in her subtle yellow light and Alia found herself concerned soone might see it through the windows. She would need to do sothing about this.

Third circle, Cloak of Secrecy.

The cloaking spell activated, dulling the effects of the Ward of Thew to almost nothing. Alia let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness for that!

Now that she had so defense Alia felt confident to look around a bit more boldly. Approaching the window she peered out and was t with nothing but blue sky far above and below. Was this building on a mountaintop of so kind? Where in the ga world was she?

She turned her attention to the desk. Upon it lay a large map that seed to be of an archipelago. Nurous locations had been labeled and the owner of this office had pinned notes to different locations. Alia peered closer to read so of them.

Yup, she couldn’t read this!

It certainly wasn’t English nor did it look like any of the common scripts found in the ga.

“What language is this…” Alia pondered.

“That would be High Imperial little one,” a coarse masculine voice broke out.

Alia jumped up, almost hitting her head on the ceiling, not quite used to the extra strength the now-cloaked Ward of Thew gave her.

“Whose there!? Show yourself, intruder! I have hands and I’m not afraid to use them!” Alia held out her hands like a boxer, behind which her eyes frantically scanned the room.

“Ah… hahaha! The intruder accuses of the cri she is guilty of! What a strange human you are. Yes yes... Over here, no no… to your right, by the mirror little one.” Alia followed the voice until her eyes settled on the source.

“A talking moose!”

“I am not a talking moose!” the talking moose exclaid. “I am Anathor! The guardian of this ship and adviser to its captain. I-”

“We’re on a ship!?” Alia interrupted. She darted back to the window, peering through its dirty glass. “Then why can’t I see the sea? Where’s the water?”

“Hrmph… I said we're on a ship little one, the Vengeance, a mighty military vessel feared for leagues around! This is no re watership for harvesting salt! What use would there be of putting a warship on water when we have the skies?”

“We’re flying? I’m on a flying ship!?” Alia bounced back to Anathor.

“Well, the proper term would be sailing. It is a ship after all, not a bird! But we forget ourselves! The topic of this conversation is you! Who are you, little human, and what are you doing in the captain's quarters?”

Anathor’s glassy eyes took on a red tinge that Alia supposed was ant to be threatening but surprisingly she found herself completely calm. Despite being in a situation that should frighten her she found herself lacking any feelings of anxiety.

Furthermore, Alia had a certain feeling that Anathor wouldn’t harm her, and even if he tried, she was certain she wouldn’t be hard, owning to her high base stats boosted by the Ward of Thew she had applied to herself. Canonically in the ga the higher a character's perception stat was the more capable they were of determining on an instinctive level what can and cannot harm them, as well as the nature of a person.

As a max-level end-ga combat mage, Alia Thornheart had trendous base stats, including her perception which had further been boosted by months of achievent grinding.

So, she just knew that Anathor was soone of good character, and not dangerous.

At least, not dangerous to her.

“I’m Alia, pleased to et you Mr. Anathor.” She gave a polite bow, flashing the red-eyed moose what she hoped was a charismatic smile. Her mind was racing trying to think of how to approach the next question. “As for why I’m here… after a long battle with an affliction I was finally cured of it, but the cure has flung through space to this location unknown! To be honest I don’t know what the future holds for but after being bedridden for so long I want to experience many new things… I have so talent in healing, if this is a military vessel perhaps your captain would allow to offer my services?”

Anathor was silent for a full minute.

“Hmmm.”

“Mr Anathor?”

“What a strange human you are. You may explain yourself to the captain.”

“The captain? Uh, sure. Where is he?”

“She is here now. Be warned… she can be a little… angry.”

As Alia processed that last sentence, the double doors burst open and she found in front of her face there was a cutlass, a real pirate cutlass. Attached to this shining steel was a firm and steady hand, and attached to that hand was a towering figure in a neat black military uniform trimd with gold. On the top of this figure, a beautiful demon face was snarling at her, with deep crimson eyes, black hair, and a set of magnificent horns.

Alia found herself getting lost in such a pretty set of eyes. Yes, she could definitely work for such a captain…

“A demon! A demon captain!” She exclaid, admiring the figure that looked like it belonged more in a storybook than reality.

“Port or starboard? Pick one.” The captain snarled at her.

“Uh.. Why?”

“I’ll let you choose which side of the ship we hang you after you spill everything you know, human spy.” The last two words were punctuated with little jabs of the cutlass, now milliters from Alia's nose.

Well, this job interview was going rather badly. She would need to fix this quickly.

“I like your horns!” Alia said with a smile and tilt of her head.

The demon captain opened her mouth and the closed it, a mont of confusion flashing on her face.

“I an, they’re super intimidating of course, if that’s what you’re going for… but they’re also really pretty you know? Can I touch them?”

A few monts of awkward silence passed. Alia was sure she heard a faint chuckling from Anathor. Maybe the complint was badly tid, but after feeling so good after so many years of feeling bad Alia felt she wanted to be nice to everyone!

“You…” said the captain, “the Republic must be getting desperate to send a mad human to spy on . Ran out of sane assassins did they?”

“I’m not a spy! Or an assassin!” Alia protested. “I’m a healer, would you like to hire … perhaps?” In response the cutlass poked her nose a little, her skin wouldn’t be so easily pierced with the ward active but Alia could sense this captain had so real ability behind her.

If it ca to it, she could always speak the First Word but that would certainly destroy the office, if not the ship itself and if they were really flying, no, sailing through the skies, then she would rather not condemn the crew to death.

Although, she did have the skills to protect them.

“Captain,” Anathor piped up, interrupting Alia’s train of thought. “Perhaps we should not be so hasty in judgnt here. Confine this human below and let us have a discussion about how to proceed.”

“Anathor,” the captain said, not moving her eyes from Alia. “The human is a spy or an assassin. There is no reason to keep her alive.”

“Hmmm… the Vengeance has suggested otherwise.”

The captain's eyes widened at that, even briefly snapping to the moose before settling back on Alia.

“The ship spoke to you?”

“In a sense.”

Not just a flying ship, but a talking one? What a strange place Alia had found herself in. There were no flying or talking ships in the ga. The captain kept glaring at her for a few more seconds, and Alia t that gaze calmly with a smile.

“Take her below. Kill her if she resists.” Ordered the captain and suddenly she was flanked by several more demon soldiers, although these were male and their horns far less impressive.

Alia allowed them to put her in chains and found herself lifted off the ground and carried away. It seed they didn’t even trust her to walk.