Okay. Second chapter. I can do this.

A/N: All references to the game Maplestory belongs to Nexon, or the company that currently holds all rights/owns it. I claim no rights over the characters or whatever.

Applications available:

Permabeginners: 4.
[NPC] Beginner mentor: 1

Archers: 0, sorry.
[NPC]Archer mentor (teacher person that helps them survive): 1

Magicians: 2

Warriors: 1
[NPC] Warrior mentor: 1

Thieves: 3
[NPC] Thief mentor: 1

[NPC] Organizer: 1
[NPC] Hack master: 1

Name: Sylph Arderson
Class: Ranger
Level: 87
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Weapon: Dark Arund
Skill: Excellent hearing and eyesight.
Personality: Sylph is a cynical Rangeress who dislikes anything faintly male. Tenacious and intelligent, she is not one that you'd like to hug at first. She speaks sarcasm as a second language. She thinks that she has no chance of making it out of the Acer Games alive, because on top of everything else, she preaches pessimism.
Description: Sylph isn't drop-dead gorgeous, but nor is she hideous either. She borders on fairly attractive. She has short scruffy brown hair that sticks out in spikes and a fringe. Her skin is cream-coloured typical of the Henesysians, and her eyes are a dark green. She is quite small, around 5"3 with a lithe body. She wears a Dark Patriot, having dubbed the bucket-like Dark Falcon as being 'ugly as sin'. She wears the Dark Pria bowwoman overall, despite calling it 'a friggin' baby jumpsuit'. As for gloves, she chose Dark Eyes, and Dark Wing Boots is her choice of footwear. She also adores children- as in anyone two years younger than her or younger.

I might remove some of the [NPC] positions and just make them up myself. But I have to remind you: if, by some miracle, you want to join, you can apply for 2 positions. If you've applied already, then you can still apply for [NPC] positions. But you need to make it soon, because I can't keep saying: The identity of the other competitors were a secret or something.

Pronunciation

Caele – Ka-yi-lay.

Caelenian- Ka-yi-layn-nian.

As usual, thank you for reading and please offer your thoughts on how to improve this dumb excuse for a fic.

6 years ago.

Ellinian forest.

Nic touches the ground, her exquisite Petal Staff lying forgotten a few metres away. What use was it now when she had no more patients to heal?

'Nic, I'm sorry... Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein were like parents to you. But a recent hacker raid on Lith Harbor took them. Nic? Nic? Where are you going? Hey-'

Her weak fists pound the ground, reminding her once again of the little physical power she had. Ignoring the fact, she pummels the soft soil of the Ellinian forest over and over again.

'Stupid… Hackers!' Punch, pummel. 'Who the hell do they-' Grunt. '-think they are?!'

Blood runs freely from her knuckles, but she ignores it. She could always heal herself later. Wasn't that was clerics did? Heal, heal, heal? What if there was nothing left to heal? What if there was nothing left for her mana to mend?

Unknown to her, a newly turned Bandit silently moves through the leaves, his stealthy tread easily inspiring envy from predators and enemies alike. A dark cap hangs down over his eyes but he ignores the annoyance for now.

He only has eyes for a certain cleric who was currently trying to destroy the whole of Ellinia with her puny little fists. He steps out of the shelters of the forest.

'Hey Nic,' he whispers softly. The cleric girl ignores him. Frowning, he steps forward and bends down, catching hold of her wrists. Her scared hazel eyes look up at him; frail; innocent.

'No point harming yourself, yeah?' He hugs her awkwardly, not really used to the warmth of the embrace. He tries to detach himself without success, instead simply hoping that the pointy projectiles attached to his belt won't hurt her.

'No point hurting yourself when there are other dudes to heal, yeah?'

Nic shook her head and Jakiro sighs.

'Those guys you were healing before wouldn't want you to stop helping other guys because of them, kay?'

A nod.

'So you're going to pick up that dangerous, pointy stick you have there,' Jakiro gestures towards the Petal Staff. 'And get out there and show those guys what you're made of.'

Nic nods, numbly stumbling across the long blades of grass towards her weapon. Jakiro watches her go, hoping that she would be okay. He shakes his head in annoyance.

Of course Nic will be okay. She's strong, yeah?

He nods to himself again, lightly melting into the last rays of falling light.

Yeah, she's strong.

Hidden street, present time.

Sylph Arderson.

This night, the whole of Victoria Island would mourn. They'd mourn for those who'd die, like me, and hoped for their own chosen class to win and rebuild their city. Henesys needed to be rebuilt. The main source of food comes from Henesys, but the thing that irked me was that the archers had a low chance of surviving without bow and arrows. I mean, the warriors could pretty much bludgeon anyone to death with sticks, but what about us bowpeople?

Let me just sum up the general mood:

We're all going to freaking die.

But why me, though? Why not any other loser in Henesys? I'm not well-liked, but I had a freaking future in front of me that did not involve smoking the illegal leaves that were found in Korean Folk Town. Artemisia.

Artemisia made you stronger, it was true. But people went on a freaking high after it. They were addicted for life. Their quest for more of the disgusting plant consumed them. Sometimes literally. Artemisia was arsenic.

Anyway, there was no time for goodbyes. I was swept into a minicab with the rest of the unfortunate souls. All I remember doing in it was staring at the archers that I would have to fight. The Hackers were driving at the front, but there was a mini-wall dividing us from them.

'We're going to kill each other.'

I grinned at the speaker, but it faltered as I realized he was 12 years old. Not even a teen yet. That was wrong. And it hit me, finally, with the equivalent force of a ten-ton hammer, that there was a chance that he would die, the rest of us going with him.

'We are. But maybe not by each other's hands,' I replied shortly. I didn't want this particular path of conversation to be talked down through. 'My money's gonna be on the warriors.'

The rest murmured their agreement, and I felt glad. At least they weren't optimistic idiots who yelled at me that of course we were going to win. I smiled at them, realizing that I might as well get to know them once before we, for lack of a better word, get butchered.

'So. I'm Sylph. Ranger and proud. I really wish none of us were doing this, but if this is what it takes to end the war, I'm glad.'

'Better us than 300 people dying a day, yeah?' the first kid bit his lip. 'Well, I'm Renas Garten. Crossbowman. Level 57. I've always wanted to be a Sniper…' he shook his head. 'Never mind about that. I'm worried about my sister- she's 6. She doesn't know where the hell I've gone, and she's probably scared to death she's gonna follow me. '

My eyes widened. To have no family was bad. To have a picture-perfect family that was going to be torn apart… was unforgivable. But there was nothing anyone could do anymore. I put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

'If I'm going to die, I'm not gonna die a wimp. I want sis to know that big bro died when he was being a hero.' He smiled, his mind already a thousand miles away. I nodded at the person sitting next to him.

'Ferin. I'm 19. No family in the background, so no sob story for me. I've just hit Level 118. So close to being a Bowmaster. It was my only dream, y'know.' He smiled ruefully. 'To be one of the elite and teach little kids at the AA.'

The AA was the Archer's Academy. People would send their aspiring archer kids to become hardened archer kids. Upperclass; middleclass; civilians. They all came to the AA. It had been reopened the minute we were sure no one was going to set the town on fire.

Ferin had a high chance of surviving this. He was freaking Level 118, for the love of Scania. He was experienced. And me? I'd probably die in the first couple of minutes with a note of confusion on my face. I looked at the last person- a girl candidate like I was. She caught my gaze.

'I'm not going to talk to you,' she said primly, making me raise an eyebrow in disbelief. We were all going to die, and she was snubbing us. 'If I get too close to you or tell you too much, Daddy said I wasn't going to win.'

Let me spell it out for you: Ouch. This kid knew more about survival than any of us combined. She just lacked moral ethics.

Priest Nic.

How in the name of priests did they manage to build a city?! 'They' being the hackers, duh. They built a stupid city under the watchful gaze of the Victoria Four. That has got to be impossible.

Or not.

So far, it's been okay I guess. At least they don't force me to do healing duties here. Wait a second… Healing duties are definitely way better than the situation than I was in now. At least I'm not forced to become a murderer. Or so I think.

The mansion is, ugh, too big.

As in, creepy. They tell us that we're 'expected' for dinner at 19:00. And to dress appropriately. Well they can take their dinner and stuff it straight down their-

'Hello?'

My eyebrows are automatically raised in surprise.

'Umm, yeah?' I reply.

'Ah, that is good. You are here. Please open the door.'

My eye twitches with irritation. I've been stuffed into a minicab for 3 hours, told I was gonna die, got punched by a fellow puny mage… The list goes on. I am entitled to be grumpy.

'Open it yourself.'

'I will.'

There isn't a resounding crash, and a great thunderbolt doesn't come and strike the door down or anything. In fact, it's pretty anti-dramatic. Clicking sound, door swings open, in comes a hacker guy.

Wait.

Hacker guy?

'Who are you.' I growl. I'm tired. Way too tired to be nice to whoever the hell this person is. I can't even think straight, let alone be polite to some random hacker.

'I am Athame. Your mentor while you are in the Acer Games.'

Mentor? What mentor? You're going to send us to our deaths doing more lessons? Screw you. Screw everything.

'I have a death sentence pronounced on me,' I said aloud, burying my face in pillows. 'I don't need education as well.'

I felt the mentor sit down on the side of my bed and chuckle. Why was he laughing at me? I gritted my teeth.

'You don't need lessons on how to survive?'

Survive? How the hell can I survive? I can't do anything in an arena without a wand. What am I supposed to do? Snap off a stick and channel magic through it? Hey… Maybe that isn't such a bad ide-

'You are not going to die.'

He said it with such conviction that I sat up and blinked at the light. Grimacing as I was half-blinded, I turned to his general direction.

'You have 5 minutes. Start talking.'

Dinner was a dismal affair. The general atmosphere was of people thinking that this was their last meal. It was, in a way. But there were still a week left for them to prepare.

A week. The last chance to live for 19 of them.

It's sad, isn't it? Usually when you are told that you have a week or so to live, you go out doing the things you've always wanted to do. But all of them are trapped here. This place would be their tombs.

It brings a tear to my eye.

Not really.

Oh, look.

The priestess Nic is meeting the chief bandit Jakiro.

Things are bound to get interesting. Or maybe even faintly amusing.

Priest Nic.

'Jak?'

I whisper the name with almost reverence. I haven't spoken to him for about 2 years, burying myself in work and training. And we meet here of all places.

Dear Grendel, the irony.

His dark eyes widen when he hears my voice. Then he looks away again. Aww crap. Maybe he took my absence a little too hard? I couldn't really blame him. I would've hunted him down if he had tried to ignore me.

'You're acquainted already? That's great! Now let's move on,' I tore my eyes away from Jak and focused on the new speaker. His hair was a strange shade of turquoise blue and he had the same coloured eyes to match. And dear Grendel, he was beautiful.

And that's all I'm going to say about him on the matter.

'As you all know, you're pioneers in the Acer Games. No one knows what's going to happen when we let you all out there. No one has the complete picture, not even myself, as the organizer.' His beady eyes stared intently at each of us as he spoke. 'You have a great incentive, my young competitors. We have the manpower to rebuild your town at the flick of the wrist,' he smiled to himself secretively. 'And we will. Only for the winning class will we do so. Only one part of the town, though. Which means your successors would have to be successful also.'

A warrior stood up- he was just a kid.

'Mr. Organizer guy, I have 3 words for you- Bring. It. On.'

I rolled my eyes. Amateur heroics were cute in movies, but in real life? Come on.

'I distinctly remember your name being Xemira Feonix. Am I correct?' the organizer didn't look like he was impressed. Quite the opposite, I guessed.

'Yep, it is.'

'Suicidal bravery doesn't win any favours with death,' the organizer told the kid. He turned back to the rest of us. 'There are quite a few kinks to be sorted out with the system, but…'

I droned him out, instead thinking happier thoughts of Ellinia, ice cream and…

Jak.

Sylph Arderson.

Co-training was a pain in the bow.

It was like a show-off session once a day, for 45 minutes. Warriors threw weights around. Hermits chucked pointy objects, going into hysterics every time it struck a target. Chief bandits learned the fine art of blowing things up. Mages learnt how to deal with using magic without a pretty piece of wood. Archers… well. We just shot arrows, hoping to Scania that we'd get our hands on a bow. Permabeginners…?

They just sat around, resigned to dying first.

It was kinda sad, really.

Three of the warriors caught my eye.

Two were twins. I barely remembered anything about them. I just knew they were Yasa and Yascal Rewer. And they were strong.

Have you seen their dual moves against the instructor? It's just plain scary and cool. It's like they have twin telepathy or something. But they have a strong chance of winning.

Last night at dinner, the organizer told us we were allowed allies.

They would join me. I'm sure of it. My leadership skills kick ass.

And the third warrior. He was just a kid, with pretty blue eyes and brown hair. He just sat with the permabeginners as well, not throwing weights around or swinging nasty swords. He just… sat there. Uncharacteristic for a warrior.

'Hey. What's up?'

I walked over to him and he barely looked up. I saw the mistrust written all over his face.

'S'okay, I'm not gonna hurt you or anything,' I chortled harshly. 'I don't think I can, what with my sucky archertastic combat skills.'

He smiled at the last description of my lack of talent and my heart melted. Kids… They can bring me down with a mischievous grin. Always could.

'I don't want to fight.'

I made a face at him.

'Psh, no one wants to fight here. Except the resident psychos over there,' I nodded towards several mages, a warrior and thieves. He groaned. 'It's called survival, kid.'

He closed his almond-shaped eyes.

'I don't want to kill innocents, y'know? It's just not…' He re-opened his eyes and gazed blankly at some of the permabeginners. They were all just little kids! 12 years old, 13 maybe.

'I don't think I can live with myself if I do it.'

I nodded sympathetically, but left him to his own thoughts. If the chance arose again, I'd talk to him. Right now, I headed over to the twin warriors.

'Yascal. Yasa. Rooftop at 8, after dinner.'

They both stared at me, at the same time. A calculating look was in their eyes, and I waited, waited, waited. Almost imperceptible nods.

I smiled. They wouldn't need much convincing…

Rooftop.

The night sky of the Hacker's city was beautiful. The hackers themselves gazed at it, marveling at the wonders of the Caelenian skies. They had named it after their city- Caele. But the rangeress and the two warriors who had the most spectacular view behind them ignored it.

Sylph Arderson stood at a respectable distance from Yasa and Yascal Rewer. The twins looked eerie in moonlight- identical raven locks and dark blue eyes glinting strangely. They appreciated her respect of their space.

'Look, we might die next week.' Was the eloquent beginning of Sylph's speech. The twins smiled at the bluntness. They admired her tone- straight; to the point.

'I don't want to die,' she continued simply. She didn't sound scared- just matter-of-fact. 'I'm proposing an alliance.'

The twins exchanged a look. If the ranger defected, they could overpower her in an instant. In the mean time, they lost a ranged opponent and gained an ally that could attack from long-range while they attacked short-range. While she had the protection of the warriors, who were most likely to survive the Games.

Win-win-win situation.

In a few seconds of meaningful but subtle looks, they agreed.

'We accept your offer.'

A wide smile crossed Sylph's face.

Watch out noobs, Sylph is going to win.

As usual, sign ups are first come first serve. (If anyone actually does, I'm surprised. Lawl.) You get bigger parts when you join earlier, because the imagined storyline in my mind says so.