Reality of Fiction

If I hadn’t been covered in the thick layers of the worn, protective gear I had adorned hours before, I have no doubt the blazing sun above me would have burned my pale skin. My muscles spasmed under the stress of walking such a distance; my friends and I had been navigating along the wide dirt road, leading to the nearest city for a few days now. The air began smelling different as we closed in on Denerim. Wafts of smoke filled our lungs in blissful moments as we were reassured we would soon be involved in some form of civilization.

I glanced at Alistair as his footsteps thudded against the packed dirt underneath us as caught up to walk along side me. His blonde hair stood at odd angles, tossed back and forth between the wind that had been gusting from the North for the last few hours. Our other friends slowly ambled behind us, their place by my side made my heart swell with happiness at the assurance their presence guaranteed. Without them, this journey through the tall grass that prickled my calf, the rivers that held freezing water which we had to cross precariously, and the inhabitants of such vast lands that surely existed, would have been nearly impossible.

My eyes blinked rapidly under the glare of the sun, and my mouth broke into a twisted grin as the tall stone walls of Denerim quickly came into vision. An unanimous sigh of relief escaped our lips as we were engulfed in the cool shadows of the city. Walking through the open doors made of solid wood, held together by iron fittings carefully crafted in the town’s forge, signified our safety from the outside world. My senses were immediately overwhelmed by the surrounding sensations. The vendor’s booths in the middle of the town boasted a wide variety of products being sold: silky clothes from neighboring countries, blooming flowers of all hues, swords and armor glistening in the sunlight, anything and everything one would need was here in this section of town, if you had the money to afford such things.

Wynne mumbled something from behind me, about finding residence for the night. Her voice chimed like bells softly in my ear. I turned to look at her small frame, her wrinkled hands, and gentle smile a brief reminder of her peaking age. Her small frame was dwarfed by the solid wood staff strapped firmly to her tunic, a brief reminder of the power brimming inside her. I nodded, and together we weaved in and out of the crowds of people to find a tavern with available rooms. The smell of beer and searing meat lured me into the weathered doors of a small bar, which housed few people, all who looked as tired and dirty as I am sure my friends and I did. A woman with bright red hair and fitted clothes eyed us from behind the bar. The clinking of coins from my gloved hand to the bartender’s slender fingers ensured my traveling party a room and enough privacy to feel at ease. Shady patrons eyed us, their gaze tightening on our packs, which held more treasure and weaponry then they would know what to do with. I allowed my hand to casually float down toward the hilt of my exposed dagger, caressing the steel that now caught their attention and forced their eyes to look back down into their beers.

The door whined as it slowly opened, revealing a small bedroom housing two simple cots and a burning oil lamp. It was a bed, however, something we hadn’t had the luxury of using in days. A washbasin caught my eye, nestled against one of the dusty corners in the room, I fell on my knees in front of it, dust from the floor blew up into my face as the tired wood caught my sudden weight. A shiver ran through my body as my hands submersed themselves into the lukewarm water. A film of dust, blood, and dirt left my skin to float in the water and once again, I was clean. I stood up slowly, my joints popping softly as I rose up from the now dirty water, and I allowed my fingers to undo the buckles of my armor. Wynne had already fallen asleep, her soft snores muffled against the pillow her face was pressed against. A chuckle rose within me as I slipped out of my gear and too found myself falling into bed, the sheets so soft against my skin, the lamp light slowly getting dimmer…

...Yes, the sheets were soft and the room dark. The reassuring sound of my game file successfully saving allowed me to safely press the buttons under my fingers accordingly to turn off the playstation. The whirring of the system slowly whined down and I once again found myself back into the folds of reality. Light flooded the tousled room as I flipped on the small lamp on my fragile bedside table. A huff of frustration heaved from my chest as I jumped out of bed and grabbed a shirt off the floor. The scratchy cloth fit over my head roughly, but now I was ready to go to work. Within the realms of video games, if I had began preparing for work, I would be arming myself with weapons, planning quests and journeys into battle. Meetings with important people would be arranged and things I did in this fictitious world would be of importance.

I was never alone in this colorful realm. My computerized companions never drifted out of my life, judged my iron-clad heroine, and always made her a priority in their lives. My digital self never wept over bills she couldn’t pay, she never seemed to drown in the sorrows of life. She fought on, no matter the loss or pain she seemed to deflect as easily as the blows from her enemies. No matter, after work I would simply fall into my unmade bed and wake up in Denerim, ready to take on the next day in a realm much brighter and fuller than the real one awaiting me.