David J Wuto - Metaworld Chronicles: Vol.2

Metaworld
Chronicles

Volume 2

David J Wuto

2019 David Jian Wuto

All Rights Reserved

Art Commissioned From

https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/16811335

Sigil design by Lampshade

Cover Design by David Jian Wu

This novel is the cleaned, formatted and edited version of the web-serial located at Royal Road.

A special thanks to my impromptu editors online

ISBN: 9781096238614

Imprint: Independently published

To Jenny, for reading my terrible first drafts.

"GWEN!"

"Debbie!"

The two girls reciprocated cheeks.

Surya observed the exchange, his face full of benevolence, his heart finally returned to its usual cadence. In light of Henry's ruthless sentencing of Mark, leaving his cucuperempuan with his old friend had been no different from sending merino into a Hob's den. As such, for the first half of the day, Surya had assumed a foul and disgruntled disposition while Gwen tied the loose ends of the fiasco, casting such a moody shadow that all his assistants, Debora included, fled from his scorn.

Around midday, Surya received a Message spell from Kilroy. As he listened, his face alternated between shock, calm, and finally euphoria. At long last, he had received permission for a Teleportation Circle at the estate. Such a thing cost as much as three figures in HDM crystals, but considering her circumstances after Blackheath, Surya would prefer Gwen not taking public transport for some time.

As the sun fled, Surya's NoM servant served supper. Locals working for the Magus, they had been apprehensive at first but stayed on once they realised that the 'dangerous' Mage was just a benign, eccentric artist.

And so it was that the five sat in front of the infinity gardenSurya, Gwen, Debora, Melissa and Tess, enjoying a supper of tender roast and heirloom vegetables. Surya's assistants were not privy to Gwen's secrets, Debora not to the entirety of it, and so the conversation was kept light-hearted and full of sweet nothings. Surya commended that Debora was performing exceptionally well in learning the Bronze-skin techniques and that she would be of great help in the future. In his esteemed opinion, the athletic, earnest girl got along well with his other two Apprentices, and together they had been making some rather ambitious new works. Following dinner, classic Pavlova with fresh strawberries and cream, paired with a sweet Moscato dessert wine capped off the night. As was usual for the tablelands, the air stayed sultry even after the sun dipped against the horizon. The girls had left their glasses untouched at first but seeing it served and that no one seemed to mind, proceeded to sinfully sip away at the scented amber liquid.

For Gwen, the Frizzante was a godsend. It wasn't the supernatural mead that Sufina supplied, but actual alcohol, pure and clear and natural, full of euphoric buzz. When was the last time she had drunk alcohol? Gwen couldn't recall; after all, that had been a lifetime ago. She stole a nip here and there, her glass perpetually topping itself thanks to the nefarious designs of Tess and Mel, likely wondering if another Gwen lurked under her unflappable calm.

When the three bottles finally spilt the last drop, the four girls were rip-roaring with laughter like old chums. The sun died a glorious red death, forming that timeless Outback panorama of burning plains and flaming skies. Surya announced his retirement and stumbled off to sleep in his workshop and Mel and Tess returned to their rooms in the west wing. Debora also retreated, leaving Gwen by herself to ponder the insignificance of man under the horizon-spanning Milky Way; wondering if this was the same constellation as her old world.

"He that has the steerage of my course direct my sail" She said to no one in particular, too groggy to recall the rest of the lines. By then, she was flushed and sweaty. The nights on the tablelands were unpleasant at best. She would have to beg Opa for some cooling Glyphs in the guest rooms. Just sitting here, without even moving, she was feeling beads of sweat catching in the folds of her cotton dress. She would need more clothes for her month-long stay as well, but for now, she could borrow from Tess and Mel.

Unsteadily, Gwen made her way to her room in the dark, threw off her dress, and fell comfortably into her bed. She felt flushed with the heat of fermented muscats, relaxed and happy. So many knots have been untied, and Gwen felt safe for the first time since arriving in this world.

The sheets were coarse and stuck to her skin, but her mind was already elsewhere. She pondered her parallel lives, measuring one against the other. Though she had first rejected the Gwen of this world, her alternative life had grown on her. In old Sydney, she had left behind many regrets. Of the four-burner stove that was family, health, career and friends, Gwen had shut the one labelled family entirely, redirecting its time and energy towards health and wealth. She rarely even had time for friends, and her romantic pursuits had been a horror. Now, in this world, through uncertain trials and tribulations under risk of life and limb, she had reached a kind of equilibrium.

For friends, she had Yue, Elvia, and now Debora. For a mentor, she had her Master, Henry. For family, she had Opa, who gave her a taste of belonging she had not savoured in her parallel life. As for her careerthat was as yet uncertain.

Yawning, she stretched out on the double bed, ready for the lull of blissful sleep. Internally, her mind wandered through the darkness, careless fingering this and that.

There was a nervous moan beside her as Gwen poked something soft with her nails.

She froze and slowly turned her head.

In the dim light, she met Debora's flaming face.

I, er think I have the wrong room."

That was the truth. The east wing of the complex had six identical bedrooms in the hopes that one day family would gather to celebrate the material achievements of House Huang. Unfortunately, that particular project had ignited when Surya, Helena and Kwan had burned their bridges. As a result, the east wing of the estate was entirely untouched by human occupation. Moreover, the doors hadnt been labelled and werent easily distinguishable in the gloom.

Flushing with embarrassment, Gwen tried to lift herself from the bed, but the disorientating influence of wine sent her rolling off its side. She yelped as she crashed onto the timber floor, face up and writhing in agony.

"Jesus, are you alright, Gwen?" There was something off about Debora's voice; it lacked its usual tenor and clarity. In the low light of the stars, Gwen spotted her friend's face.

Debora had been crying.

With a thump, Debora joined her. Her friend had gotten up too quickly and had likewise lost her balance. Stumbling onto the floor, she rolled onto her knees and elbows, then came to a rest beside Gwen.

The two of them laid side by side in awkward silence.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Gwen soon broke the solemn moment with a chortle. Debora joined in a moment later. Before they knew it, they were both laughing out loud, albeit quietly it was simply too hot for locomotion.

Finally, Gwen managed to think of something to say. "Sorry" she said. "For pulling you into all of this."

Debora said nothing, merely breathing arrhythmically, possibly trying to cool herself on the hard timber floor. In the darkness, Gwen could see her friend's body outlined in the silhouetted sheen, lit by a silvery light. Unbidden, Debora's crests and valleys quaked from the emotions running beneath her honeyed skin.

"I didn't know you were from such an amazing family, Gwen," Debora muttered finally with a tone that was forlorn and lost. "I'd always thought you were just like me, that we were close in stature."