-1Down, but Not Out
A Maple Story Fan Fiction by Kal Ancalas
Author's Note: Yes, I haven't written anything in a while. Too much goofing off on MapleStory. Sorry, but I really want to hit level 60 before school starts. Asianic sexy.
I've saved the sappy, long Author's Note at the end, so just relax and enjoy.
-Kal Ancalas
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The hunter glanced at the rocky hills of Perion, the sunlight and heat beating down on him. Sweat dripped down his neck and he was tired, but he didn't care.
He was level 57 now, a red bandana tied around his forehead (he couldn't stand the look of the Maro, even though its defense was superior), a blue-lined kismet gown that added 14 points to his dexterity, steel-tipped boots on his feet, crystal earrings adorning his earlobes, a blue Justice Cape fluttering in the soft breeze behind him, and his trusty 75 attack Olympus, cradled lovingly in the palm of his hand. His blonde hair shook in the breeze, as did his pack behind him that contained his entire life's savings.
Fire Boars. Copper Drakes. Nependeaths. Pixies. Zombies. Countless monsters' spoils, the work of 30 or so levels past. Six million and 700 thousand beautiful mesos, jingling like sweet music in the back of his backpack, as well as his carefully-arranged level 60 equipment: a crimson-shaded Tai robe, a white polyfeather hat given to him by a friend so long ago, blue gore boots acquired from that Maya's quest (he still wondered what on earth she needed tauromacis horns for), pink flower earrings, a ruffled magic cape, and last of all, his Asianic bow, taken from the forest of the Malady's so long ago.
All that were left were gloves. Work gloves, to be exact. He stepped into the threshold of the Perion Free Market. An instant outburst of voices greeted him.
"SELLING ILBIS!"
"BUYING ELIXERS!"
"TRADING STUFF FOR SAUNA ROBE!"
And the like. He sat down on a nearby ledge, trying to discern any voices through this mess that were selling work gloves. He sat like this for nearly an hour, his butt sore and aching. Just when he was about to give up hope and make do with a Dark Garner, a small voice poked its way through the ensuing cacophony into his ears.
"Selling 6 attack work gloves, 6 mil…" The voice was that of a young mage. The hunter eagerly strutted over to him and struck up a conversation with him.
"Heya! How's it going?"
"Great. Wanna buy my work gloves?"
"Sure. Can you make it 5.7 mil, though? I'm kinda short…" This was a little white lie, as the hunter didn't want to be left completely penniless after his purchase. However, the mage showed no dismay.
"All right…" He showed his beautiful, 6 weapon attack glove to the hunter. In response, the hunter dug out and counted out 5,700,000 mesos.
"You got any items?" the mage asked casually.
"Yeah…" The hunter flashed 3 clean Korean Fans, gotten from too much time spent at Fire Boars, and a Fish Spear dropped by an unlucky pixie way back when. "Mind if I trade all this crap and 4.7 mil for your gloves? I don't wanna be broke after this…"
"Sure." The mage withdrew the glove and retraded the hunter. He set down his fans and 4,700,000 mesos, and tossed in the fish spear just for kicks. The mage set down his glove.
"Deal?"
"Deal."
The items and cash swapped hands. With profuse thanks, the mage dashed off, no doubt to spend his newly-gained wealth.
"All right…" The hunter clutched the glove in his palm. He had made a promise to himself not to wear it until level 60. Then he would enjoy it more. But curiosity got the better of him, and he slipped it on.
Nothing. No surge of power. No rush of adrenaline and exhilaration. Just an empty feeling.
He stared at the glove again, and then something hit him.
It couldn't be…but it was.
"HEY!" The hunter dashed desperately into the crowd. "COME BACK HERE, YOU BASTARD! SCAMMER! GET THE HELL BACK HERE!"
But it was too late.
-----
The hunter sighed. He was standing on the flat plains of Henesys. After the awful moment of self-realization, he'd used a return scroll to his hometown and switched into an empty channel. Birds, butterflies and snails flitted about him, but he paid them no heed. He stared into the flat meadows.
How could I have been so stupid?
A tear trickled down his cheek.
How could I have not noticed?
Another tear.
All I had to do was just double check the goddamned glove…
It was too much. He broke down, sobbing into his bare palms. A few beginners passing by stared at him. Beginners could cry. Even mid-leveled people could cry. But bloody hell, the hunter thought as salty tears flowed from between his fingers, capable, strong, level 57 bowmen didn't cry.
For a few minutes of crying, he wanted to track down the mage and shoot him several times with his bow, but he realized that wouldn't do him a bit of good. He hadn't bothered to take down the mage's name, and anyway, what good would it do? Even if he threatened to mass defame him, anyone would still tolerate a mass defaming for 4.7 million mesos, not to mention a few fans thrown in.
"Ahh…" He swore, then contacted a few of his guild buddies. None of them were sympathetic when he told them his tale of woe. In fact, they all laughed uproariously at him, telling him he was a total moron and retard for not double-checking, and that he deserved this punishment. Finally, one of his comrades rounded off the whole fiasco by telling him, in an obviously sarcastic tone, to 'get better soon.' Still, he appreciated the false sympathy, even if it was obviously an insult in bad disguise.
He wanted to cry some more, but he decided against that. Crying wouldn't do anything. He had to do something drastic.
Slowly, he drew an arrow from his pack and aimed his bow at the ground. All he had to do was use his Arrow Bomb technique. Focus all his pain and rage and the ground beneath him would explode, taking his life with it. Well, what the hell? He deserved it, after all. He had been nothing than a poor soul, another victim on the endless list of the scammed.
He pulled back on the bowstring of his Olympus. It was firm and taut. He nocked the arrow back and pulled. The tip of the arrow began to glow with rage, as if it sensed the volcano of emotion inside of its user. He aimed the arrow at the ground, preparing to release the string.
As he stared down at the ground one last time, he saw something.
It was the face of a young boy, laughing and brandishing a sword, slashing randomly and rapidly at snails. The sun reflected off his blonde hair.
That's…
But before he could focus his thoughts, another image appeared.
The face of a teenager, shooting stumps and slimes on the fields of Henesys. The very same fields which he was standing on.
Another image. The blissfully happy face of the same teenager, a bit older, a Proof of a Hero clutched in one hand and a Ryden in the other. He set off along the paths of Henesys, blowing up snails and mushrooms as he went along.
That's me…
Yet another picture. It was a familiar young man, standing with a familiar hat clutched in his fist. He was shouting something. But what?
"What the hell? I'm not wearing this piece of crap! It looks like a freakin' beanbag!"
Oh yeah. When he'd turned level 50 only a couple of months ago. He'd never really taken to his Maro cap, preferring the Dark Distinction or his red bandana. The memories. He managed a bitter smile and at the same time, his arm flew up and let go of the bowstring.
The arrow flew up and struck a group of stumps, charring them. At the same time, the hunter was on the ground, panting, realizing how close he'd been from death. It was extraordinarily good luck that his arm had twitched before releasing the string, changing the scope of the bow's range at the very last second. There was soot on his arm, a reminder of his cheating fate.
What was I about to do?
Oh yeah, he thought dryly. I was about to kill myself because I lost 5 million mesos. Maybe even more.
He sat in silence on the flower field, when a simple voice rang out in his head.
Why?
Because…He tried to think. I lost so much. I was rich, just one hour ago. Then a simple flip of the coin, a single roll of the dice, and back to square one. Just like that.
Really?
A ray of hope came to him. Oh yeah. He still had about 2 million left in his pack. He opened it up and riffled through the bills and coins, quickly counting them. Sure enough, there were 2,000,000 mesos left, give or take a couple thousand. Of course, the weight of the pack was much lighter, but as he counted he felt a great weight being slowly lifted from his chest. At his level, this was laughable, but still, two solid mil was nothing to scoff about.
Think about it. You're basically no worse off than you were before this incident. Sure, you lost quite a bit of cash, and a couple of fans, but what is that? It's just money. You can earn it back. And besides, what about all the other stuff you've got?
Obeying his mind, he opened up his pack again. Sure enough, there were his level 60 equips, still snuggled up and neatly folded in the confines of the knapsack, as well as a couple of Calafs he'd found while going Asianic hunting. And his infamous Maro was tucked neatly away in the corner. Once again, he gave a grim smile. Damn that hat.
He picked up his knapsack again and weighed it in his hand. It was definitely lighter than before, but still pretty weighted down with all the items inside it. And 2 million.
The hunter finally looked up and stared at the beautiful spring Henesys sun, shining over the meadows of flowers. It wasn't the end of the world. Even after this, the sun would still shine and the monsters would still run. Life would go on.
And besides, the mage had done him a favor. At least he had less to carry and had room for some new equips in his backpack. He managed his third smile since the incident.
He took out the clean work glove, the one that had cost him over 5 million mesos. It lay there on the palm of his hand. He wanted to throw it in the bushes and forget about it, but on impulse he slipped it onto his hand. He would keep it there as a reminder of this day.
Quite frankly, it didn't look bad at all. And who knew? Maybe he could find some glove attack scrolls and upgrade the thing himself. Tight, but doable. He stood up and clutched his bow in his hand.
Only three levels away from level 60. Why stop now?
"Come on, buddy." he whispered to his Olympus, the turquoise-colored weapon clenched in his white fist and glittering in the sun. "Let's go kick some ass."
The End
Long Sappy Author's Note: Yes, this is a true story. And you don't have to feel all sorry for me; my guild mates didn't. It was essentially all my fault for not double-checking, but still, I won't mind a little pity. If you play in Bera and want to give a little sympathy or such, message ZerPheonix74.
Anyway, when I realized I'd gotten scammed, I actually did feel a very strong urge to toss my $1200 computer out the window, but thankfully restrained myself. So…please, please try not to be taken in by these scammers, but if you do, it's not the end of the world. I probably got hit worse than you, so…yeah.
Oh, and by the way, I'll be deported to some island in the Caribbean without Internet service to spend a week of my life starting 8/24-8/30, so don't try to contact me then.
-Kal
