Chapter 3:

Chapter 3: Cursed by the Sun

A Guide on How To Not Survive a BL RPG World


The stranger has a deep masculine voice with a playful and self-assured tone to it. You couldn’t see his face as his whole body was covered by a dark cloak. His voice… It strangely unnerves you how familiar the voice sounded, you scream internally at the prospect of who the person next to you could be. But first, deep breaths. You made rules for a reason so it's just a matter of time before you have to use them.

⌈ Rule 4. Avoid Using Modern Language or English ⌋

"Ze fart stools are vone of my faforite ingredients to vork vith" you said, imitating the old man's accent to blend in with other Autumners. It was perfect you must say! Perfect accent and acting! You think you had the stranger convinced when they snorted in reply. The stranger picks up another fartshroom and squeezes the stalk. The shroom let out a loud slapping fart as stinky gas erupted from its small craters.

⌈ Rule 3. Be as insignificant as possible, blend in. ⌋

You had to bite back your laughter. You had to at least seem mature and know what you were doing right? Maybe the stranger would lose interest in you if you acted all serious and think you were one of those strict alchemists. You clear your throat and turn your back to the stranger and say "If you vouldn't mind. I am not intervested in konversation." The stranger seemed to be done talking with you too, shoving the poor squished shroom into their bag. They give the seller a Red Amber piece before leaving you to your lonesome. When the stranger is out of your sight, your shoulders relax and you let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully, you dodged a bullet there.

⌈ Rule 10. Avoid contact with the main characters ⌋

Would your encounter count as breaking a rule? Maybe. But it didn't seem so significant, more like the NPC talk you hoped for. The tanned hand that squished the mushroom earlier was enough to send red flags through your brain. Having tanned skin was considered to be abnormal in this world since people slept during the day and were awake in the evening. Tanned skin was often associated with criminals, an indicator of suspicious dealings during Odd hours. But one tanned character who stood out in the story was---

"Rune!" A high-pitched tiny voice interrupted your thoughts. Looking over your shoulder, you find a tiny pixie with messy blue hair and green eyes, wearing a dress made from a maple leaf and with wings that were reminiscent of butterflies. The little pixie that was flying over your shoulder, her pale hands were on her hips, her legs stretched out as she leaned closer to you. "You're such an airhead! I've been trying to get your attention for five minutes!" She exclaimed. This little pixie went by the name Moxie and she was Alven's Pathfinder.

So what was a Pathfinder? To put it simply, they were familiars that, as the name suggests, help you through your journey through life. Everyone in this world was born with one but they only made an appearance to their partners if they went through the Tethering Ceremony.

Pathfinders were basically like magic in this world. They were the mythical creatures that you could normally find in fantasy that gave their partners special abilities and powers. Honestly, they were very cool. Having a pathfinder was like having a best friend with you all your life. And since you were basically living as a shut-in for most of your life… sometimes it can get a bit lonely.

This little pixie in particular was quick to accept you into the family, treating you as if you were her rebellious teenager. She was a big help around the house and was more than happy to teach you whenever Alven was busy. Honestly, it sometimes baffled you that someone as scary as Alven could have such a sweet Pathfinder like Moxie.

But where did that leave you? Did you really not have a Pathfinder or have you just not met them yet? You weren’t exactly keen on getting attention just because you don't have one. Moxie was dragging you by your hair towards the tent Alven was waiting for you in. "Hey… Are you sure you don't want to go through the ceremony?" The pixie asked.

⌈ Rule 6. Don’t let anyone know you have no Pathfinder.

"I'm not that interested in meeting them. Or maybe…" you trail off as if to add dramatic tension. "Maybe I'm terrified to meet them, trauma and all that," you said dismissively. Your parents are pretty much dead to you now that you’re in this world. That seemed to hit a chord with Moxie and before entering the tent, she hugs the bridge of your nose.

"It's ok if you aren't ready to meet them yet. But I'll be here for you, don't worry" she said. That warmed your heart a bit but it also made you guilty for lying to the two of them when you first met. They were both kind people…

However, survival comes first. Your only choice was to stick with your rules and you'll live a long and happy life.

… right?

Wrong.

One year passed in a blink of an eye but there was a strange feeling that never left you. It constantly felt as if there were eyes that lingered behind you. Could it really be… You didn’t want to be true honestly. You desperately tried to push that feeling aside as you studied under Alven.

Your knowledge of the game's Alchemy system helped you become better than most apprentices who studied for as long as you. It was easier to understand potions at the very least. Potions were basic knowledge so it was only natural you learned that first.

Your knowledge was sufficient enough in your teacher’s eyes to let you apply for a Fire License. So what exactly was a Fire License, you ask?

Well, As the name implied, this Fire would allow you to make use of fire in all aspects. But why wasn’t it normal to use fire in this world?

To put it simply, this world relied on a great tree. This world tree that the world existed atop on was fragile and was dependent on the people who lived on it to care for it. There were strict rules for anything involving the world tree and rules about Fire were the strictest of all. Fire was banned in this world unless you had the Fire License.

But in case you were wondering how people cook their food; they don’t for the most part. Using fire in cooking was considered to be high class since chefs also required a fire license like everyone else. It was one of the main reasons why you couldn’t wait to get your license. You missed hot food…

You drum your fingers against the wooden counter, back hunched over staring at the ticking clock next to the cashier. It was midnight now and Alven asked you to look after the shop while he left to get something for you. Quietly, you sigh and bite your lip. The day of your exam is tomorrow actually and if you pass, you’ll have much more freedom. You were all alone in the shop on a, particularly slow evening. It should be fine to make use of the time to update your notebook, right?

You take a quick trip upstairs to grab the notebook hidden under your bed. It was a miracle that Moxie hadn’t found it since the little pixie was adamant to clean the bed. The notebook was half stuffed with notes of the game and whatever you could remember of the game’s plot. The leather edges of the cover were heavily wrinkled due to intense use, pieces of scrap paper stuffed between the pages made the first half of your notebook even thicker than it should have been and the latter half of the notebook was left with imprints of your hard handwriting.

Ding!

You were about to update your notebook when you heard the soft jingle of the shop bell coming from the lower floor. You quickly shut your notebook and rush downstairs. Just as you were about to greet the customer, your vision was blocked with a large fabric nearly engulfing your body. From its weight, you could judge that it was a heavy cloak.

You struggle to get rid of the cloak, catching a strong scent from the rough fabric. It smelled of burnt sugar, it reminded you of-- oh no. In a panic, you frantically toss the cloak away from you and over the counter onto the ground in front of the visitor’s feet.

You clear your throat to hide the wariness bubbling up inside you as you force your best smile as you greet your new customer: “Hello Surta, what brings you to our little shop?”

Surta Hyrsson, otherwise known as “The One Cursed by the Sun”, was one of the two main characters of the game. His golden blonde curled locks bounced as he tilted his head at you. The corners of the man’s sunset red eyes curled upwards as if he was pleased with your look of disbelief. Surta was…

Stupidly handsome.

It was one of the few things that aggravated you while playing the game, someone who was such an asshole having such godly good looks. The two scars that were over his eyes that, thematically, were supposed to be seen as ugly in the game, just made him look even sexier.

Honestly, you wanted to punch the stupidly sexy smirk right off his face. His sun-kissed skin accentuated his toned muscles, it made you feel jealous. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander down his body. His clothes consisted of a sleeveless maroon unitard (that did nothing to hide his lean and firm muscles) held up by the gold ring attached to his black leather neckpiece.

Though you couldn’t see it, you knew his back was bare with an opening that was just BARELY above his ass and you would have loved to run your hand down his toned back and smooth as fuck skin.

His ass was probably--- Erm... A-Anyways...

His faded red leather boots were covered in dirt and soot and around his waist was a leather black belt with a small satchel attached to the back that no doubt held dubious items.

The satchel on his belt was enough to worry you since Surta was already infamous at the beginning of the game. He was introduced as a crazy pyromaniac that caused chaos in the Spring Branch by burning down aristocrats’ homes and stealing their belongings during the fire. The satchel from what you could remember contained items he used to start several fires that killed hundreds of people. But… There was one thing that stood out to you seeing him for the first time. He was missing a very iconic clothing item… Could it be--

“I’m in need of a little assistance,” He said as he bent down to pick up the cloak that you threw to the floor. Surta’s smirk turned into a wolfish grin, he looked down at you as he continued to speak “The scent of burnt sugar... a familiar scent, don't you agree?”

So you were right that day. The cloaked stranger that spoke to you that day was Surta. Seems like your rules weren’t effective enough to keep Surta from seeing you again for whatever reason. “If you came just to chat with me, I suggest you leave,” you said. You refused to interact anymore with this guy lest you be pulled into the game’s plot as some sort of third wheel. That’s what your rules were for!

The pyromaniac didn’t seem to be irked with you as he leaned forward, his warm breath tickling your nose. “Awww. So you decided to lose the customer hospitality? You even dropped the accent you had when we first met.” the man said teasingly.

You scrunch your eyebrows and turn away from him as you say “Just say what you want and let’s get this over with.” Surta placed a hand over his heart and had a look of mock hurt on his face. As much as you hated it, you had to forgo your rules for a moment and appease the pyromaniac. If you let him do this, maybe he’ll just leave you alone. Forever ideally.

“You don’t need to be so hostile to me. It’s like you don’t even want me around,” he said in a mocking tone.

‘YES!’

That’s exactly it! You silently prayed that he would take the hint and leave you alone. But God loves to fuck with you and, to your dismay, Surta seemed to be enjoying your hostility even more.

The man didn’t let you reply as he continued talking, “The Fire Management Bureau holds a yearly exam for Fire License and the only time the bureau is open to the public. Annoyingly, it’s also the most heavily guarded day”

Ah… a growing pit started to form in your stomach. You didn’t like where this was going. Biting your lip, you turn to look at him and let him continue his little monologue.

“Now there is a special item I’m looking for and... “ You shiver under Surta’s piercing gaze, his eyes never leaving yours. “Say…” He started, you jump in surprise when he suddenly slams his hands on the counter. “You’re getting your license tomorrow aren’t you?”

There it is. The very thing you were dreading. You take a step back and press yourself against the wall. Now it all made sense to you...

Surta was trying to get his iconic cape and you just happened to be his way to get it.