Collide Gamer

‘Lord Protector, I come to tell you that… no, way too formal… Father, I must inform you that… sounds like I am bringing bad news. It is for him. It’s not for me though. Should I make this about me?... Father, I wish to bring you the fantastic news that… that what, I am getting ploughed as the 28th woman in the harem of the world’s most famous pervert?’

Moira sat in her private chambers within the large monastery complex of the Order of the Golden Rose. The room had a nostalgic feel to it. Though it was technically new, the room resembled the one she had since she could first remember in all of its details. Most of the furniture was the same, having been moved from the United Kingdom to Springfield and then from Springfield to here, to their new base near New Orleans. Even the bricks had been moved.

The outside facing wall, however, was visibly different from the rest. Wallpaper and decorations were the same, yes, but the difference in time was stark. The lighter colours of newer material stood out like a scar, left behind by the Lorylim attack upon these hallowed halls.

The Warden’s mind turned back to that time. To the chaos and devastation and the gods that had fought in the field of mortals and infectious horrors. She remembered fighting, trying to make a difference. She remembered her feeling of inadequacy. She remembered it being another day in her strings of being… small.

A hand placed on the mark upon her, she smiled. It was a pleasant rarity, to mix practicality with desire. Though it would take some time for her to grow the 200-odd levels, that potential was now hers, given willingly, provided by love and love alone. The Lady had done well to make that the condition for this power.

Moira’s smile dropped when the awareness of why she was in this room at this time. ‘Dad, I am now with John… That will absolutely give him a heart attack… Father, please be seated… I know that this will come as a shock for you, but I am with the Gamer… is that still too formal? I feel like that might work…’

A light chuckle from the other chair made the redhead look across the table. Lorelei’s fingers were gliding over gilded papers. Written in magical ink that only the second sight could perceive, the book was one of the Varnik clan’s treasures. Practically every high-ranking member of the Order left a text behind, be it a journal or meditations on their faith and its doctrines.

“Is my internal turmoil of such amusement to you?” Moira asked, sharply. Thɪs chapter is updated by N()velFire.net

“Only a mild mirth is derived from your confusion, I assure you, honoured Warden.”

The Warden let out a long sigh. “Our relationship has become more intimate than ever and yet you persist in calling me that.”

“If I may, it is my preference to refer to you by your given station at times. I ought not to forget, especially now, that you are above my humble position as seer within the hierarchy of faith.”

Moira’s fingers drummed on the table. She let out another sigh. “Do you as you prefer, Rel.”

“I shall, Moi-moi.”

Eyebrows pulling together, the redhead gave her childhood friend a long stare. Lorelei smiled back, the little bit of sass openly worn behind her sheer propriety. “It bears repeating that your time within that harem has corrupted your behaviour. You were not this teasing before.”

“I have noticed the change. I regard it to be for the better – in limited doses.” Lorelei closed the book before her. “It is no longer ‘that’ harem, however, Moira.”

The Warden felt pleasant tingles running over her skin. Though all of this had been far from easy on her heart and soul, she could say that she was ultimately glad to have chosen this path. Knowing that she now had so many good people to call not only her equals but her beloved was liberating in an unfathomable sense. The burden of her position, placed upon her shoulders earlier than she could truly grasp the concept, was now shared.

To say she felt more balanced than before would have been an understatement. Violent blushing and sudden loss of her self-control had drastically reduced after admitting to what she wanted. What her soul and body had known for a long time, her mind had finally relented to. The bottled up emotions were no more, leaving her in moderated pressure releases instead of embarrassing explosions.

Even this, the informing of her father, was only putting a mild flush into her cheeks. It was difficult, yes, but she at least felt like she had a handle on it.

Two knocks on the door broke the silence. Moira had expected them from the second the seer had closed her book. “Enter,” she spoke with trained authority.

The old oaken door swung into the spacious chamber of the Tudor-style estate. Reginald, the personal butler of her father, entered. “The Lord-Protector will see you now.”

Moira rose and gestured for Lorelei to follow. Together, they walked through the long corridor. The crystal glass windows gave a great view of the massive estate. It lay in the darkness of the early winter hours. 5 AM had just barely passed, the hour upon which her father usually rose to have an hour to address urgent matters before breakfast or, on good days, to pray in silent contemplation in his private chamber.

It was that part of the complex that they were guided to. Reginald opened the door for them, wordlessly ushering them inside. The entrance closed behind them with a light click, leaving Warden and seer alone with William.

The Lord-Protector wore a robe. In its rich red and golden embroidery, it was far too ornate to be that of a monk, yet it did not reach the raw splendour that they could afford either. Her father knew he was a prideful man. He believed much of it to be the appropriate level of resplendence for an order of knights and paladins as old and accomplished as theirs. Still, he knew to rein in his excesses at times.

Clutching his sword with both hands, William knelt before a shrine in silence. His head was lowered, nearly touching the guard of the magnificent Zweihänder. Though he had been the leader of the Shield branch of the Order for over a decade, he had never picked up their blessed armament in all that time in any form. All quietly guessed why. None desired to open that wound by suggesting he change.

Moira’s gaze rose from the broad back of her remaining parent to the depiction of the Lady he prayed to. The Order depicted the supreme deity in many ways. This painting of her was ancient and yet new, the paint having been traced with fresh brushes and pigments just a year ago. It was a historical image kept alive by effort and respect.

Green rivers meandered through a mountain range, coming together to form the curly hair of a sleeping woman. She was portrayed in a petite manner, small breasts and hips of only slightly above average size, all of it covered by a dress made of the midnight sky from a time before light pollution had hidden the milky way.

It was a glorious depiction of the Lady and one remarkably close to the avatar that Moira had encountered a few times now. In that, it was proof that the Lady had appeared to their Order a few times over history. She did care for them. That knowledge was a shining light within Moira’s heart that would illuminate not only her own soul, but those of all that she could save from the wicked path.

Moira and Lorelei stood in respectful silence, waiting until William had concluded the prayers he held within his mind. The tip of his blade rattled slightly within the stone sheath that kept its prestigious size in place as he rose.

There was grey in her father’s hair. The streaks mingled with the fading red in his low ponytail. He inhaled deeply, his already broad shoulders widening further as he held his breath. Her father was a warrior in spirit and in body. Tall, disciplined, headstrong, protective, scolding… he was her father and she loved him dearly, for he had always tried to give to her all of his virtues and none of his flaws.

“Father,” Moira dared to talk finally, “I know that this message will be of surprise to you, but-“

William interrupted her, the held breath leaving him in one calm sentence, “You have joined the Gamer as a concubine.”

The statement startled her. “Why… would this be your assumption?” she asked carefully.

“Because I, Moira, am both your father and a man.” He still faced away from her, head tilted back to gaze up at the face of the Lady. “I knew you harboured some feelings for him since that Small Lake Tournament.”

“I did?” Moira asked, flabbergasted.

William chuckled weakly. “Your mother could be like this as well. Oblivious to what she really wanted, emotions buried under duty and procedure.” When he finally did turn his head, the stoic expression expected of the Lord-Protector was replaced with a peaceful smile. “You might not have noticed your increasing mentions of him and his other women over our dinners in the last few months. I most certainly have made note of it and of the fondness that accompanied the frustration.”

“You... are fine with it?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” William answered. “I am beyond livid at this moment. Three days ago, my little girl went to spend Christmas with a womanizer and now she returns to me with news that she has become another one of his bedfellows.” While the smile stayed, the rage did creep into her father’s blue eyes. “Only my respect for you, daughter, shields his neck from my blade.”

“With all due respect, Lord-Protector.” Both of the Brightons snapped to Lorelei when she raised her voice. “That would be a doomed endeavour. The sacred Gamer outclasses you in every relevant regard.”

“You underestimate the might of a slighted father,” William stated bluntly. “I would make him bleed.”

Moira could not imagine how, but she believed him all the same. “I ask that you do not.”

“And I shall not,” he responded, to her relief. “Understand that I know what attracts you to this man. As a partner, he is no bad choice. He is loyal, that much is clear, and he has shown righteousness, liberating the Iron Domain when he could have had his new woman and simply left. He has resources and power. He has a good heart.”

William walked the two steps and put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“Above all, I believe that you have become a woman that does not require my protection. If you are committed, with all your heart, to him, despite the temporary loss of the Blessing, despite his well-deserved reputation, despite-“

“You do not need to list all of his flaws, Father,” she interrupted him.

“…Certainly.” William cleared his throat. “My point is this: I trust you, Moira. I have faith that you have entered into this relationship knowing of the drawbacks. That you have come to me immediately tells me that you are not ashamed of your choice… and as the one who taught you what to be ashamed of, that tells me all I need to know.”

“…Father…!” Overcome by emotions, the redhead took a half step forwards. Though much had changed between them in her twenty years of life, even now Moira felt safest in his embrace. “Thank you…” she whispered into his chest.

“…But if I am wrong and you do need my protection, I will skewer him,” William grumbled.

Playfully, she hit her parent in the side. “I would prefer it if you did not disparage him that way. He is going to be your son-in-law.”

William let out a gruff sound. “All the more important that I judge him. His women heighten his ego constantly.”

“Surprisingly, they… we…” She felt her father cringe a bit at her correction. “…put him down quite frequently.”

“If you say so,” William relented.

They continued to stay connected for almost another minute, before they mutually ended the hug. Emotional family time had passed and blended swiftly into the professional conversation between Lord-Protector and Warden afterwards.

“It will be difficult to sell this to the faithful,” he said. “Our inquisitors may insist on the ending of this relationship on doctrinal ground.”

“If I may, this will not be the case,” Lorelei stated.

“Seer, I am aware that your clan holds great repute among the keepers of the Order’s traditions, but your sight on this is clouded,” William declared confidently. “I have studied the scrolls in anticipation of this day. When it was you, these murky waters could be navigated, but now that a Warden is involved, this relationship is up to the scrutiny of our entire Order.”

‘Here it comes,’ Moira thought and braced herself for the impact.

“It is precisely because the Warden is involved that the scrutiny of the entire Order is superseded,” Lorelei began calmly, gradually drifting towards a zealous veneration. “The Lady’s signs are clear, Lord-Protector. The Gamer was awakened to his power in the city where we dwelled, as an attendant of the very school where our sacred Warden was also present. His power is granted by the Lady. The sacred marks of love are granted by the Lady.”

She placed a hand on her lower stomach. Moira suppressed the urge to do the same, fearing that her father might pop a blood vessel if she showed him the indecent tattoo. “What are you getting at?” William asked, his voice low and… afraid?

“You must acknowledge that the Lady has given him the tools and the ability to live with his harem. You must acknowledge that the vision of the man I was to love, sent by the Lady herself according to old Varnik rituals, connected me to him when his harem was already over a dozen large. You must acknowledge that the Warden, blessed by the Lady herself, has chosen to become one of us of her own volition. Are there any doubts about these claims?”

Lorelei’s voice whipped through the private chamber like the lash of an inquisitor. Clutching his sword defensively, William stumbled back a step. As John would say, the seer was dealing psychic damage to the Warden’s father. “No… no, you cannot… that is…”

“Thrice blessed is the Gamer’s harem. Once by prophecy, once by ability and once by our sacred Warden’s actions. By this clear favour bestowed upon him by our Lady. The Saint’s seed is holy and shall be allowed to multiply more than any other.” Her hands were now clasped and raised in prayer towards the Lady. The wetness of rising tears of joy shimmered in her milky eyes. “The harem must be declared a sacrosanct institution. All established doctrine is secondary to that fact.”

William’s mouth was agape at the end of Lorelei’s preaching.

“Lorelei is quite passionate about-“

“That… is theologically sound.” The Lord-Protector wasn’t even listening to his daughter at that moment. The breadth of what Lorelei presented was utterly irrefutable. If the Lady disapproved of this, why would she bless every step along the way? “Oh no… oh no, no, no, no…”

Moira suddenly recognized just how much of her father’s child she was.