A Gamer's Guide To Beating The Tutorial

When Emil woke up, there was a tingle in his right hand’s fingers. The room was cold and his chest ached in three different ways. Groggily, he lifted his head from his pillow and peered out into the darkness. The window was open. That explained the cold.

A shadow sat at his desk, reading something in the inky darkness. Kitty turned to him, and Emil felt a relieved smile rise to his face. That explained the window.

“What time is it…?” Emil asked, his voice scraggly and hoarse.

Kitty blinked at him before turning to look at an empty space in the air—once more forgetting that they had a clock on the wall—before turning back to him. “It’s, uhhh… Ten past three. You’ve got two hours and fifty minutes left to sleep,” Kitty said, “and I suggest you make use of them.”

“You’re not,” Emil cleared his dry throat, “going to sleep?”

From the other side of the room, in the sheer darkness, Emil couldn’t read the expression on his friend’s face. “Nah,” Kitty said simply. “I’m really invested in this book. Besides, if I’m asleep, who’ll protect you from the monsters under the bed?”

Emil chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. Well, goodnight then, Kitty.”

“Goodnight, Moleman.”

Smiling, Emil went to sleep, forgetting all about Kitty’s nightly adventures and the odd tingle in his right hand. An hour or so later, he woke up briefly by Kitty crawling into bed. Not thinking anything of it, Emil went right back to sleep. He had a big day tomorrow, and he certainly couldn’t afford to waste his precious sleep worrying about things.

An urgent knocking at the door woke him up again, prematurely just as before, and he sat up to find Kitty sitting once more at their desk, this time sewing one of his small plush rats. Since Kitty was dressed and Emil was decidedly not, a quick exchange of glances was enough to urge Kitty to his feet and over to the door, where he answered the knocking politely by opening the door. “Rat?” Kitty said. “Everything okay?”

Arching his neck, Emil finally saw Rat where he stood in the doorway, fully dressed for work, but his face all red and his breathing quick and strained. He looked like he’d ran a full marathon. A quick glance at the clock on the wall told Emil that the clock was half to six, meaning that Rat should have started his shift half an hour ago. What was he doing here?

For a moment, Rat simply stood there, panting in the doorway. Then his eyes fell on Emil, and fully ignoring Kitty, he pushed his way into the room, striding up to Emil where he sat on the bed and grabbing both his shoulders. “Mole—oh, God, Mole, it’s—”

“What is it?” Emil asked warily. His eyes widened in dawning horror. “Is it—”

“It’s Sully,” Rat said, his voice breaking. “Please. We have to go. Wake up the others, it’s…”

Emil flew to his feet. He almost stumbled, but Kitty was soon at his side, and with his help, Emil got dressed in a matter of seconds. The three of them exited the room, hurriedly going about and gathering the rest of their members before rushing to the hospital. As they entered the courtyard, Emil’s gaze instinctually moved to her window, but it was closed, and the curtains were drawn. His breathing felt so weak. When they moved to enter the hospital, to rush up to her room, throwing all caution to the wind, they instead found Benevil blocking the way. The small, wily goblin had a look on his face typically saved for grieving families. Emil wanted to slap it off him.

Plus approached him with large steps. “Benevil, please, you have to—”

“Come along,” he said, his voice low and kind. “Please.”

He should have known it when Rat rushed into his room. He should have known it the entire way there. But until he heard those words, he still wouldn’t believe it. Something deep in his chest refused it. After all, it couldn’t be true, could it? Ursula was strong. He knew that. He’d known her for three years now. She’d saved his life more times than he could count. This wasn’t how she was supposed to die. Not that she was supposed to die at all. She wasn’t the kind of woman who died.

Benevil led them behind the hospital, towards the chapel. They weren’t running now. Emil’s heart-rate was slowing to a crawl. He wasn’t breathing anymore. Nobody said anything. He tried to recall how things had been when his uncle had died, so many years back. But it hadn’t been anything like this. Pancreatic cancer made slow work of him. They had been allowed to say goodbye to him properly. This wasn’t like that at all.

The chapel was a small building off to the side, made of bricks and tile. A sign for the Goddess of Tomorrow hung above the entrance, and as they went inside, Emil noted that there was a sign for the God of Yesterday above the doorway on the inside. He hadn’t noticed that before. There was only one room in the chapel. This was a service typically only afforded to the rich and powerful. Emil wondered which category they fit into.

“My condolences,” Benevil was saying. He looked tired, like he’d been up all night. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Where is she?” Jazz said, her voice half-broken by sobs yet to be. “Where is—”

There she was. Barely the size of a thumbnail, clouded by a dusty white color, with uneven form and clarity, sitting all neat and tidy on a black spidersilk pillow atop a pedestal. The small room, now crowded, was lit only by candles, the scent of wax and incense moving slowly, condensed through the room, like ghosts. The walls were hidden by gingerly placed tapestries, each showing the creation story of one god or another.

Everyone huddled around her.

Rat fell to his knees before the pedestal, where he reached out to cradle her in his hands. “What—what is…” Still holding her, he turned to Benevil with a look of smoldering malice. “Why did you do this to her!?”

“So you could hold her,” he said, as calmly and easily as an icicle.

The words struck Rat right in the chest, piercing his heart. His fingers loosened, his eyes moved erratically between Benevil and the rest of the people gathered, and then, once he saw the horror he felt mirrored on their faces, his hands clenched around her tiny form, and he clutched her close to his chest. “Sully… No, no, this isn’t… Oh, God, oh, God, please…”

Plus knelt down and brought Rat into his arms. Jazz fell to her knees, covering her mouth with her hand.

And Emil… He was just standing there. Fists clenched tight, staring intently at his friends, all of them on the floor. He understood everything they felt. He felt none of it.

“How did it happen?” he asked Benevil, his voice even.

Kitty almost looked as though he wanted to answer, but in the end, it was Benevil who spoke, his face set in his typical pitying-priest expression. “It was early this morning. I was doing my rounds when I heard a screech, and… I tried to save her. I really did. But it was too late.”

“What happened to her?” Emil asked again.

Benevil continued, his voice falling slightly. “She choked. You know how it happens. She… I couldn’t let you see the way she was. I’m sorry.”

Mutely, Emil turned to Kitty, who somehow turned even paler than before, looking just about ready to jump out of his own skin. “I—I didn’t know, I promise! These things… You know I have trouble predicting this kind of… turnout. All I can know is when they ought to die, but with some…”

“I know,” Emil heard himself say. “You’re right. I can’t expect omniscience from you.”

Hearing him say that, Kitty turned into an even more pitiable sight.

Turning away from him, Emil returned his attention to his friends, all of them still on the floor. Saying nothing, he knelt down in front of Rat and Plus. Plus opened his arms to let him in, but that’s not what he was there for. He held out his left hand. “Can I see her?”

Rat, unable to speak between his sobbing and hiccuping, deposited her in his open palm. He stood up and looked at her. She was very small. But even though he was looking right at her, at what was left of her, at everything she’s ever been and everything she’ll ever be, he didn’t really feel anything. His face was neutral, close to apathetic. All he saw was a stone; nothing more, nothing less. Not even a jeweler would give her a second look.

He handed her back to Rat, who accepted her gingerly. Then, he turned away from them. “I have to go to work.”

“Wh… what…?” Jazz said. It’s only with great effort that she was able to stagger to her feet. “Wait, Mole, please, you can’t just…”

“Sully is dead, Mole!” Rat shouted. “You can’t walk away from this!”

Plus, now standing, put his hand on Emil’s shoulder. “You’ve had a great shock. It’s normal to want to run away, but doing so won’t help. It’ll only hurt more later down the road.” His smile was calm, measured. Earnest. “We can talk outside. But no working today. Do you really think Sully would want you to go to work today? You need today to grieve. We all do.”

“Yeah,” Emil said. His chest felt hollow. Like a great big funeral drum. “I want to stay. I really do. But I have duties that I can’t just throw aside with a single hour’s warning.” He shrugged off Plus’ hand. “Sully wouldn’t want us to throw everything aside simply because of her. We have lives depending on us. People who’ll die if we choose to take the day off. Do those lives mean nothing to you?”

Plus took a step back. “That’s not what I meant. Please, don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” Emil said, stepping out of the door, “but I’m late for an appointment. Please, take the day off if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” He gave Kitty a look and a sideways nod, and obedient as always, Kitty took his place at his side. “I won’t be home for dinner, so don’t wait for me.”

He didn’t wait to hear more of their objections. Letting Kitty put his coat around him, the two of them exited into the cold February morning and headed toward the city hall. They arrived right on time to accept the former captain of the guards, whose visit was primarily of a complaining nature. Nevertheless, Emil exchanged platitudes with him, and when he sent him off with empty promises of change and care, he turned his attention to his work.

A few weeks back, when they were both getting used to things, Emil used to chat with Kitty between meetings; a past-time he no longer had time to indulge in. Kitty didn’t seem to mind. As always, he stood over his shoulder, neither prying nor curious. A given presence.

Silently, not turning to look at him, Emil spoke. “Kitty?”

“Yes?”

Looking over his shoulder, Emil met Kitty’s gaze. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“Why would you be?”

Emil turned away. Even not looking at him, Emil could feel Kitty’s eyes on him. “I don’t know. With Sully, and then… The way I talked to Plus. I essentially called him a murderer if he chose to take a day off. But…”

“You were right, though,” Kitty said. “They’ll have plenty of time to grieve and feel bad tonight once they’ve finished work. But until then, they have people depending on them. They were too blinded by their feelings to realize it, but you set them straight.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Of course it is. A leader is supposed to show by example, and to be objective in matters like this. Isn’t that what you did?”

“I guess so,” Emil said. “It’s only… With Sully… I didn’t even cry. Yesterday, when I saw her… I felt horrible. You didn’t notice because it’s been gradual for you, but for us… The last time we saw her, she looked fine. She couldn’t shout or anything, sure, but she was still there. But this time… There was almost nothing behind the eyes. Did you see that? She had just withered away. It’s like, one minute everything was fine, and then the next, she was gone. It doesn’t feel real. Seeing her in her bed didn’t feel real. Seeing her as a gem… felt even less real. In my heart… It’s like she simply stopped existing. And I’m not sure how to deal with that. I want to cry. I know that’s the right thing to do. But I can’t, because I don’t feel sad.” He looked back up at Kitty. He could feel his lip trembling. Was he smiling? Is that what he was doing? “She’s dead, and I don’t feel sad. Doesn’t that make me a bad person?”

“No,” Kitty said.

“Why not?”

He shrugged lightly. “Maybe you’ll feel sad, one day. But right now, it won’t feel real. It never might. Even when it does, you won’t necessarily cry. Not all people express grief in the same way. Expecting yourself to react the same way as your friends do…” Kitty frowned to himself, clearly searching for words. “It’s not good. You’ll react in your own way, eventually.” Emil could feel his smile trembling pathetically. “If you were really a bad person,” Kitty said, “you wouldn’t feel bad about it. You’d think that being bad was good, and that’s that.”

“That’s circular reasoning,” Emil muttered.

“So? It’s true. Take it from me—you’re not a bad person.” Kitty smiled cheekily. “Trust me, I’d know.”

Chuckling, Emil turned away from his friend. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess so.” In mutual appreciation, they stared at the door. After almost a full minute, letting his voice move back into his mayoral working-voice, he said, “Assistant Kitty, would you please send in the next visitor?”

Kitty did a mock-salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

And the day continued like normal.