Page 151 of Talk Nerdy To Me
“Right. Well, I happened to bring one of Dale’s old outfits just in case you screwed this up. It’ll be a little big, but—”
“Being a little big is better than it being a lot little.”
She nods like she sort of agrees, eyes flicking over my bare middle as she works twice as hard not to laugh.
“Keep up. We have orientation to do in ten minutes, so you’ll need to change quickly.”
I don’t even say anything, because that horse takes off the second she gives it the go ahead like it has just been waiting to get moving again. I sprint behind it, drawing numerous gazes as we head across an open field surrounded by woods.
I barely glimpse the elaborate things set up all around that make this place look ready for battle. Harley rides down a trail, and I struggle to keep up, because the horse is clearly faster and in way better shape than I am. My bags are also weighing me down.
We’re spit out at a campground, and I stumble over my own feet as Harley rides on. I’m too busy taking in the new scenery.
“Whoa,” I say as I marvel at how just insanely elaborate this all really is.
Harley stops in front of one ornate, massive canopy tent that is surrounded by numerous other tents—all of them looking regal and made out of beige or white material.
“Was I also supposed to bring a special sort of tent too?” I ask as dread creeps up my spine.
“We actually assign tents. This is mine, but you can use it to change. The spare clothes are on the table next to the stack of five—”
“They need you, my queen,” a man, who seemingly appears from nowhere, says as he breathes heavily, doubling over and putting his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.
“Hurry,” Harley tells me as she gestures to the big one and then rides back off.
I quickly dart in, and stumble over my own feet as I glance around at the inside. The tent looks silk on the underside, and more silk is hanging down like dividers.
Large, unique, quilted pillows have been designed to look like mattresses, sometimes stacked on top of each other—ranging in size from twin to king, and scattered all around colorful rugs that are layered to cover the tent’s base.
Between the décor and other things, it really does look like a royal tent.
Snapping out of my trance, I hurriedly change into the leggings I once mocked Dale for wearing, and the tunic that was made for broader shoulders than mine. It takes a second to get the boots buckled again, since they’re just as elaborate as everything else I was told to wear.
Then I hurry outside and back down the trail to where everyone is now congregating. I was expecting a lot less people.
At least a hundred or more people are huddled together, clearing a path for Harley as she makes a grand entrance, slowly trotting her horse toward the center.
“Welcome to Azraya!” she shouts.
Everyone makes some random noise in unison like they’ve rehearsed it. I stand in sort of a stupor, propping up against a shed that hosts a lot of unique wooden weaponry designed to look metal.
“Most of you are here because you’ve put in the time, effort, and sacrifice to earn your way here. These three days have been something you’ve looked forward to, and I hope it’s everything you want it to be. Some of you are here because you want to find the virtual world you belong in,” she says, looking over at a group of what is likely prospective future hires.
Her eyes flick to a very familiar man near the front—Dale Sterling—as his lips twitch under her steady appraisal.
“And some of you are here just because I like you.”
A few rounds of laughter ring out, and Dale winks at her as he crosses his arms over his chest. The fucker is wearing chainmail and non-legging bottoms. He’s a level-sixteen queen’s guard? Seriously? He had to cheat to get that far.
Harley’s face turns more serious as someone hands her some really ornate white staff thingy. I don’t know what it is. Level-two squires don’t get to see the queen in the game, and there’s a lot of information to absorb.
She lifts the staff, and everyone makes that unified noise again.
“Between game rounds, we’ll have some out-of-character fun. During game rounds, you’re required to stay in character or you’ll be sent to the tent grounds to keep from stealing the magic from anyone else,” she says as my eyes begin scanning the crowd for the girl I’m wearing leggings to impress.
Again, another statement I never thought I’d utter.
“Squires have been assigned to princes or princesses based on careful compatibility screenings, since we have very few true level-twos here,” she goes on, that part directed toward me, even though she never looks this way.
