Kieran sat in the corner booth of The Copper Kettle's common room, looking distinctly out of place. His blue hair somehow even more vibrant in the warm lamplight, drew curious glances from the other patrons. A warrior in a space meant for rest.
When he saw me descending the stairs, his eyes widened.
I crossed the room with as much confidence as I could muster, very aware that my hands were trembling slightly. The last time I'd seen this man, he'd been burning me alive with azure flames. Now we were just two people in an inn.
"Kieran," I said, sliding into the seat across from him. "I'd say it's nice to see you again, but that would be a lie."
His expression flickered with confusion. "Again? Have we met before?"
Right. He didn't know. To him, I was just some random woman, not the boss he'd defeated. I'd changed too much—different body, different face, completely different presence.
"You could say that," I said carefully. "But first, why are you looking for me? Hilda said you asked for me by name."
"I didn't, actually. I asked if anyone here radiated elemental magic." He leaned forward, studying me with unnerving intensity. "I can sense elemental traces. It's part of my abilities as a flame user. And you—" He gestured vaguely at me. "You have the faintest signature of ice magic I've ever encountered. Like an echo of something that used to be much stronger."
My stomach dropped. Of course he could sense it.
"Most people wouldn't even register it," he continued. "It's barely there. But I've spent three years studying ice magic, learning every variation, every signature. I'd know that particular resonance anywhere." His eyes narrowed. "It matches Glaciana's magical signature exactly. So I'll ask you directly: how do you have the Eternal Frost Queen's magic?"
The common room suddenly felt too small, too warm. I could lie. Make up some story about finding a cursed artifact, about being possessed, about anything except the truth.
But I was so tired of pretending.
"Because I am Glaciana," I said quietly. "Or I was. It's complicated."
Kieran's hand moved to his sword hilt instinctively. Blue flames flickered around his fingers.
"Don't," I said quickly, raising my hands. "Just... listen. Please. You wanted to know the truth? I'll tell you everything. But you have to promise not to incinerate me in the middle of Hilda's inn. She's been kind to me."
For a long moment, Kieran didn't move. Then, slowly, the flames extinguished. "Talk."
So I did.
I told him everything. About being Sarah, about falling asleep playing Realm of Eternity, about waking up in Glaciana's body. About the restrictions that forced me to fight, about spending two months trapped in the Frozen Spire. About watching him climb the tower and hoping that he'd be strong enough to free me.
"When you hit me with that final attack," I said, "something broke. The system couldn't process what I was. Player and boss, Sarah and Glaciana, both at once. So it fragmented me. Split my mortality into five pieces and scattered them across the world, then dumped me here as a regular human."
I pulled up my status screen, a mental gesture I'd figured out a few days ago, and shared it with him. Players could share screens with each other; apparently I still had that ability.
Race: Human
Condition: Immortal (Conditional)
Mortality Fragments: 5/5
Fragment Locations: [Hidden]
Kieran stared at the display, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched until I couldn't bear it anymore.
"You don't believe me," I said.
"No," he said slowly. "I do. That's the problem."
He dismissed the screen and ran a hand through his blue hair, looking suddenly exhausted. "I've been playing this game for five years. I know the lore inside and out. There are stories—just rumors, really—about people who got trapped in Realm of Eternity when the servers went live. Players who couldn't log out. Most people think it's an urban legend, but..." He met my eyes. "You're proof it's real."
The servers went live. He was talking about this world like it was still a game, which meant...
"You're a player too," I said. "From the real world."
"Yeah. And I can log out." He said it gently, like apologizing. "Most of us can. We play for a few hours, then disconnect and go back to our lives. But some people... some people got stuck. The developers claimed it was impossible, that it was just people attention-seeking, but there were always whispers."
"How long ago did the servers launch?"
"Three years," Kieran said. "Which is about how long you've been... you've been stuck here. As Glaciana." He shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry. I spent three years hunting you, grinding levels, learning fire magic specifically to counter ice. And the whole time, you were trapped. Forced to fight."
"You couldn't have known."
"No, but..." He grimaced. "I thought I was doing something heroic. Defeating the evil ice queen, freeing the kingdom, all that narrative justification the game gives you. It never occurred to me that you might be a person."
We sat in silence for a moment. Around us, the inn continued its evening routine with laughter, conversations, the clink of mugs. Normal life, unaware of the two people grappling with shocking truths in the corner booth.
"So what now?" I finally asked. "You going to report me? Tell the other players there's a bugged boss wandering around?"
"No," Kieran said immediately. "Absolutely not. If the developers knew you were still alive, they'd treat you like a glitch to be patched. At best, they'd trap you back in the tower. At worst..." He didn't finish the sentence.
"At worst, they'd delete me," I finished. "Yeah. I figured."
"Besides," Kieran continued, "according to the system, Glaciana is dead. Permanently removed from the game. You're not a boss anymore—you're just Sarah. A human with some residual ice magic and a very unusual respawn condition."
"Immortal," I said. "As long as those five fragments exist."
"About those fragments," Kieran said, leaning forward. "You said they're scattered across five empire capitals. Do you know which ones?"
I closed my eyes and focused on that sensation I'd been trying to ignore all week—the five points of warmth pulling at me from different directions. "I can feel them. Not exact locations, but... general directions. Why?"
"Because those fragments are pieces of your mortality. Which means they might also be anchors tying you to this world." Kieran's expression was serious. "If you want to go back to the real world, you might need to collect them. All five. That could be what triggers a logout for you."
Hope surged in my chest, sharp and painful. "You really think so?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "But it's the best theory I've got. The system shattered you to resolve a paradox. Maybe putting yourself back together will let you resolve it properly. Actually die and log out, instead of being stuck in this weird immortal limbo."
"Or it could kill me permanently."
"Or that," Kieran agreed. "But right now, you're stuck here. You can't die, but you can't leave either. And from what you've described, those fragments are the only unique thing about your condition. They're a thread. We should pull it and see what unravels."
We. He'd said we.
"Why would you help me?" I asked. "You barely know me."
"Because I put you here," Kieran said simply. "I defeated you, triggered whatever system error created this situation. And because..." He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Because if someone trapped me in a game, forced me to be a monster, made me kill other players just to survive, I'd want someone to help me get home. It's the least I can do."
I studied him carefully. In the tower, facing him across the battlefield, all I'd seen was a threat. An opponent with enough power to kill me. But now, sitting across from him in the warm lamplight, I saw something different. Determination, yes, but also guilt. Compassion. A genuinely good person who'd been horrified to learn his "epic boss fight" had been against someone trapped and desperate.
"It could be dangerous," I warned. "We don't know what guards those fragments. What protections the system put in place."
"I spent three years soloing a ninety-five floor ice dungeon," Kieran said with a slight smile. "I think I can handle dangerous."
Despite everything, I found myself smiling back. "Okay. But I have conditions. First, I'm not going back to being helpless. If we're doing this, I need to learn how to defend myself. The ice magic is still in me, I can feel it. I need to figure out how to use it properly."
"I can help with that. I know elemental magic theory inside and out."
"Second, we do this carefully. I have a life here now. A job, a place to stay. If we're going to chase fragments across five empires, we need supplies, planning, and—"
"A party," Kieran finished. "Yeah. We'll need more people. Some of these capitals are in hostile territories. Going in as just two people would be suicide."
"Third," I said, my voice dropping lower. "If we find all the fragments and it doesn't send me home, if I'm still stuck here, you don't tell anyone what I am. You let me live as Sarah, without the system hunting me down."
Kieran extended his hand across the table. "Deal. We find your fragments, get you home if possible, and if not, you get to live whatever life you choose. No interference from the game or the developers."
I looked at his offered hand, then at his face. The blue-haired hero who'd killed me and inadvertently freed me. Who could have walked away but chose to help instead.
I took his hand and shook it firmly.
"When do we start?" I asked.
"Tomorrow," Kieran said. "Tonight, you rest. Tomorrow, we begin training. And Sarah?" He squeezed my hand once before releasing it. "We're going to get you home. I promise."
I wanted to believe him. And for the first time since waking up in the Frozen Spire, I actually did.