《They will take anyone》


 1] The Last Goodbye:

    They will take anyone.


    Another account of when the world changed.


    1] The Last Goodbye:


    The first time I saw someone Vanish was when the mysterious otherworldly entities decided they needed a fifty something year old waiter named George in their world.


    Of course, I had no idea that was what was happening at that time. All I knew was that someone was saying that George had collapsed in the bar of the restaurant I was working at.


    A few months earlier George had been told to climb up a ladder to get something down from where it was being stored on the top of the walk-in refrigerator, and then he lost his balance while trying to reach for whatever it had been.


    He ended up precariously balanced, half on top of the folding ladder, and half on the nonweight bearing support frame for the ceiling tiles. He had been stuck and calling for help.


    Everyone else in the kitchen just stood there, looking back and forth at each other to see who was going to do something. This made me pretty irritated since I was the one the furthest away at the dish tank. I ended up having to stomp my way past all of them to climb halfway up the ladder and princess carry an elderly gay man down it to set him on his feet.


    Not that the gay part mattered. But I hadn''t spent any amount of time around anyone who was gay before that, and princess carrying one would not have been the way I would have planned, or wanted my first encounter with one to have gone.


    He turned out to be a pretty nice guy. We didn¡¯t end up close or anything. But he did become that work friend you chatted with briefly now and then.


    It was nice to confirm that I didn''t have a problem with gay people, I had just somehow gotten into my thirties without ever having to happen to meet any.


    The reason I ended up rushing up to the bar that day was that I had gone through several first aid and CPR classes by that time in my life and I was concerned that everyone might be just standing around again. Waiting for someone, anyone but them to take the responsibility to do something. While George was lying there dying on the floor.


    Instead, I found him neatly arranged on his back with one of the waitresses calmly talking to him. A dish towel had been folded up and set under his head and his feet were elevated with a seat cushion under his legs just below the knees.


    While he looked terrible in that ghastly gray color some black people get when they¡¯re sick, he was breathing and talking. After confirming with the manager who was standing nearby that an ambulance had been called, it seemed that everything that needed or could be done for him had been done. Which left me free to go back to washing dishes.


    That was when George looked up, whispered "Oh." and slowly faded away. In a literal rather than figurative way.


    It wasn''t just his body going transparent and vanishing, but all his clothes as well. After just a few seconds there was nothing left but a dish towel, a cushion, and several very shocked and confused coworkers.


    The police got called in and the restaurant was shut down early. I ended up enduring being asked the same questions several times by several different police officers. Starting with ones in uniforms and progressing through a few in suits. The last few seemed to be at the federal level, and after that, I was able to help finish closing the kitchen for the day and go home early.


    I took a shower and caught a bus to visit my mom at the hospital.


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    It was when I was talking to my mother that I learned that George hadn¡¯t been the first person to vanish like that. Or the hundredth, or the thousandth.


    People had been vanishing like that for months, maybe years, some had even been caught on cameras.


    My mom brought up a video on her laptop. ¡°Her name was Orihime Tanaka, she was fourteen years old.¡±


    The video showed a phone being dropped by a small boy and skittering off into the street, far enough out for the kid to step off the curb and take a few steps out into the street before he started to pick it up.


    Then a girl in a school uniform ran out, grabbed the kid, and spun around with him before throwing him back onto the sidewalk.


    She nearly made it over the curb and back off the street before the truck hit her and sent her flying.


    Her body vanished mid-tumble.


    The video repeated in slow motion. She sort of compressed as the truck hit her before she began to break and it sent her tumbling away. One of her legs and a arm were bent in the wrong places, clearly broken.


    Then she vanished into an Orihime Takana shaped hole in the air. In the video, you could see a brief glimpse of bright green grass and a clear blue sky.


    Then it, and the girl, were gone.


    The video was at the wrong angle to see much. But some of the witnesses claim to have seen a group of tall people that looked like Rivendale elves from the Lord of the Rings movies reaching out toward her with concerned looks.


    Watching the video left me with a lot of thoughts and feelings that I would need to sort out later. But right then I just gave a nod of respect to Orihime Takana. She didn¡¯t just stand there and look around for someone else to do something when a little kid was about to get killed.


    I really hoped the tall folk would be able to do something for her. Something more than we would have been able to do. Who knows, maybe in that place she could even be able to walk again.


    My mother had time to show me some other videos showing people in hospital beds and waiting for ambulances in stores or on the streets. Each disappearing. Some fading away, others disappearing in a flash of light, or with dozens of white bony hands reaching out the ground to drag them across a room into the shadows.


    It was just the one guy. A manager with no family who nobody had anything good to say about.


    Then visiting hours were over and I had to go home.


    Where I went down the internet rabbit hole.


    The Vanishing was what it was being called online. The Japanese used it as a plot in a lot of their comic books to the point it had become a genre called Isekai. Some people thought it was the rapture, but it was all sorts of people, both good and bad vanishing.


    And it had been happening for years, maybe even centuries, or for all of human history. People disappeared all the time, for all sorts of reasons. If some of them literally vanished who would have even noticed? Even with witnesses, who would have believed them?


    But for some reason, over the last few months, it had drastically ramped up.


    Where a few thousand or so people had gone missing every year under circumstances that may have been Vanishings. Now it was a couple of thousand people being blatantly taken each month.


    There was some nervous chatter about how the whole world might eventually be taken away. But humans numbered in the billions. We have over three hundred thousand people born every day, it¡¯s not like we are going to run out anytime soon.


    It could one day be a problem if the numbers keep going up exponentially. But how many people from Earth could they possibly need? Why are the number of people they are taking going up? Are they all going to the same place or different places?


    We have no way of knowing, not unless some of them get in touch with us. For now, the only thing I could think to do was prepare.


    I could be the next to go. Anytime. Anywhere.


    The survival knife my dad had gotten me as a kid was still in a box in my closet, right where I had left it. The blade was decent with the back of it notched like a saw blade for cutting small branches. The handle had a compass in the pommel that screwed off so you could store some small items in the hollow handle.


    Right off the bat, the old wax covered matches inside of it got replaced with a magnesium fire starter.


    Next, the two elderly band aides were thrown out and replaced with two sewing needles and a piece of card stock with a strong nylon thread wrapped around it.


    I kept the fishing line and the three hooks.


    My carry concealed license was still good, at least in this state. So I will be carrying the knife with me everywhere, even tying it to my leg with a bootlace when I sleep..


    And I had always slept in a tee shirt and jogging pants, so if I do get taken, at least I won¡¯t be bare-assed and fancy free. Unless they get me in the shower.


    I might not be one of the prime targets. The vast majority of people taken were either sick to the point that their doctors knew they could die at any moment, or people who had been lethally injured or were otherwise near death.


    A smaller number of otherwise healthy people stepped through doors to other places or vanished in a burst of light. These people''s methods of vanishing tended to vary the most.


    Then Pacific Flight 294 crashed in a cornfield with no one on board. No crew, no passengers. The media got to the crash first and found the plane cracked open with nothing but empty seats.


    Then the footage sent from the passengers'' phones began to hit various media sites.


    The clown like entity. His promises of danger and excitement. The circles of light people began to fall into.


    The mysterious otherworldly entities had been known to come to earth to vanish people personally, but now they were doing it wholesale.


    Two days later my mother was Vanished.

 2] Ready 2 Go:

    2] Ready 2 Go:


    My mother was a nurse, but when I last visited her at the hospital, she was there as a patient.


    It was the same hospital both she and I had been born in and where she had worked her entire life. There had been some talk of putting her in a hospice or setting her up in our home so she could die there. But Pontiac Point Hospital was more of a home to her than anywhere else, and all her friends had to do to visit her was to take the elevator down to pediatrics.


    They had room. And all the long term kids knew her.


    She had been doing well, as well as a dying woman can, when she pressed the call button at two forty seven in the morning.


    The bed was empty by the time the nurse got there. The blanket and sheet were rumpled but pulled up. The needle and catheter sat there unconnected to anyone.


    I nearly ended up punching the representative of the hospital administration on my way in when I got the call. They were so worried about a lawsuit they tried to get me to sign some papers saying they weren''t to blame.


    No one was. No one I could get to at least.


    My mother had joked about being taken, if a medical professional was needed she claimed, why would anyone take her when they could grab a doctor? But she was gone, the cameras showed that she had never left her room since the last time she had been taken out for a weekly test.


    She had become one of the Vanished.


    For myself, I had to believe that if someone considered her worth taking. Then they considered her worth keeping alive. And if they could take someone from one world to another, maybe they could heal them as well. Or give them back their youth or a new body. She could end up living a longer life wherever she was than if she had stayed here.


    That''s how those stories went anyways.


    I just wished she would have let me get her a knife too.


    Naturally, her life insurance company wouldn''t pay out. Until she was missing long enough to be declared dead they had a legitimate excuse, so why would they?


    Besides, it was becoming established that people being Vanished were being taken alive. Legally this was a kidnapping, not a death.


    The house we had lived in had belonged to my grandparents, so it was all paid for. The costs for taxes, insurance, and utilities could easily be covered by even my meager paycheck. I also had a joint account with my mom so I could pay for things for her after she started getting sick. A lifetime of working overtime, first to spend as much time away from my dad as she could and later just because she felt more at home at the hospital than at her house, had raked up a small fortune.


    I would far rather spend what would have eventually become my inheritance trying to understand what had happened to her and possibly getting her back, than anything else.


    Thus the blog.


    The Last Goodbye was started by my mom to offer insights on how to die. It had been her way of dealing with it herself and to document her life in video recording for her future grandchildren I was supposed to produce to watch them. I mentioned it when the local news team interviewed me, saying how anyone wanting to know about her should go there.


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    And if anyone knew anything about the Vanishing, they should mention it on the site. because I wanted to know.


    I know that you have to throw out ninety percent of everything you see on the internet, and then take the rest of it with a grain of salt. But a lot of people wanted to share what they knew, and what wasn''t being covered by the media.


    Some people even asked if anyone had any ideas on what to do.


    So, I started responding, and posting. Gradually the blog became something more.


    I had read some manga, Japanese comic books, over the years about people being taken to other worlds, and now I was reading a lot more.


    In those stories sometimes people end up in other worlds with people ready to help them adapt to their new lives, but often they just found themselves in the middle of nowhere without any explanation.


    The knife I had taken to always having on me was what I suggested at a minimum. It was a tool, a weapon, and a way of starting a fire. I lost a few people there. They just couldn¡¯t fit the idea of being armed into their worldview.


    Others offered suggestions of their own. A pocket multi tool and a small pill bottle with the same things I had in my knife''s handle sounded like the best compromise.


    I didn''t want to judge anyone''s preferences either way. Everyone has to do their own thing.


    Some of the suggestions sounded pretty good to me. I started wearing my grandfather¡¯s gold wedding band on my pinky. The man had tiny hands. I got a small tube of triple sec antibiotic and some parachute cord to wrap around the sheath of the knife. They were all things I was able to find around the house.


    Talking about that got me the first interview.


    Alex Fierraro had decided that selling pre-made Vanished survival bags would make for a pretty good Kickstarter. And that getting me to endorse it would make for some good advertising.


    His business was only a four hour drive away in Ohio and I was interested in seeing what other people thought was essential, and maybe picking up some of what he had available.


    The start up, Ready 2 Go, was already working out of an old commercial building that may have been a shipping warehouse at one time. Their company name was on a banner over the front entrance.


    Fierraro was middle aged, balding, and getting thick around the middle. Not exactly the look of a rugged survivalist. I mentioned it and it didn''t take him by surprise.


    ¡°I know, but what I do look like is an everyday sort of person who would need a Ready 2 Go pack to survive and even thrive in another world.¡±


    While he did go into some detail on other, more complex packs he was planning to put together in the future. For the moment he and his three employees were just working on getting something usable, and salable, out right now, rather than wait for their competition to spring up while they tried to make something better.


    Or as Fierraro put it. ¡°Perfection is the enemy of good enough.¡±


    The nylon bag had a cheap imported survival knife like my own, a minimal first aid kit, a foil survival blanket, three small boxes of waterproof matches, a road flare, an aluminum water bottle, and some energy bars.


    ¡°Not exactly impressive, most of it¡¯s just standard stuff anyone can put together, but the selling point is that it is already put together to where you can just order it and carry it around most places. And we''ve kept the price down to where people can afford to pay for some peace of mind.¡±


    Then he pulled out the laminated pages.


    "This is what you need for a long game." He flipped to the third page. "How to make penicillin."


    The rest of the pages held diagrams and write ups on how to do things like build a water wheel. ¡°Everything you need to know on how to use an abacus, build a water pump, process sugar from beets, make paper, grind lenses, do crop rotation, make soap, or even cement.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re putting together a book with even more ideas, I¡¯m thinking of calling it ¡°How to Get Rich on Another World."


    For future products, he was looking into some simple laptop computers made as educational tools for third world countries that could be powered by a hand crank to give people access to an entire encyclopedia of information as well as entertainment for those shanghaied to another world.


    "After all, if you are going to have to live your whole life somewhere else, why not bring all the information that could make it better? As well as at least some pictures and videos of everything, and everyone you¡¯re going to miss.¡±


    I wanted to turn down the free bag since I was sure I find a better version of it and everything in it, but I decided it would be better to have it on the ride home and until I did get around to putting something better together.


    Which was after all, exactly what he said was its main selling point.


    I had to get in contact again with an old friend to help me edit the footage I had taken into something not only presentable but watchable.


    It got a lot of hits, and Ready to Go bags got a lot of sales. All with the rolls of toilet paper and mixed seed packets that I had suggested adding to the basic bag.


    If you ever find yourself needing the toilet paper, you''re welcome.


    The packets held vegetable and fruit seeds. As well as some legumes and a couple of tree nuts.


    Not much point in knowing how to get sugar from beets if you end up in a world without any of them around.


    More importantly, all the attention going to my mom''s blog got me my next interview.


    With one of the first people who had made it back home.

 3] The Maiden and the Dragon:

    3] The Maiden and the Dragon:


    I met Adam Brody in a park near his granddaughter''s apartment. His grandchild, Sarah, didn''t look all that much like him considering he was a seven foot tall winged reptilian person. But I guess she did have his bright green eyes. Just with round pupils to his cat like ones.


    ¡°I got a spell to make me look human, but it feels unnatural after all these years, and everyone just thinks I¡¯m really good at cosplaying.¡±


    He gave me a toothy grin as he waved around the park with chatting parents and children playing. None of them were even giving him a glance after he had performed a few "Magic tricks" at the children''s demands until he claimed to have exhausted his magic and the parents dragged them off.


    ¡°I got plenty of Kai left, but I don¡¯t want to spoil them. I made that mistake with my own children.¡±


    As best as I could tell he felt fairly sad at that revelation. His granddaughter, a woman in her early twenties reached out to grip his arm. He looked up at her and smiled. This time without all the teeth.


    ¡°So let me give you the short version. I died. I went to another world. Then I completed my mission and got my choice of reward, so I asked to come back.¡±


    He let out a bitter laugh. "Of course, my old body had been in the ground for several years, so I had to come back in my new one. That caused¡­ issues."


    Mainly. His family wanted nothing to do with him. Not because he wasn''t human anymore. But because they feared he might want their inheritance back. So other than Sarah, none of them were willing to have anything to do with him so he could not claim in court that they had acknowledged him as him.


    ¡°To be fair, it is a lot of money.¡±


    Brody had come from a wealthy family to start with, but he had increased his wealth over his lifetime a few hundred times over, through hard work.


    "And admittedly through the connections I had by growing up rich. Knowing all the right people, and going to the right schools. Being rich does give you a serious advantage that far exceeds talent. But I did the work, even sacrificing the connections with my family that I should have developed."


    After his death, a heart attack, Brody had ended up before a proverbial goddess whose presence was obscured with a blinding light so that he never got a good look at her. But in her judgment, he had the skills she needed to save her chosen city from economic collapse. So he had a choice, live again in her service and receive a reward. Or move on to the judgment of another.


    He chose life. And she made him into a Draken, a sort of dragon human hybrid, then dumped him in her patron city stark naked in an alleyway.


    "This lifetime I didn''t have all the advantages. It was expert mode. I had nothing but a healthy young body and a lifetime of experience in another world."


    He nodded to himself again. ¡°And a lot of time. Draken¡¯s lives are measured in centuries, and I spend five of them in that other world, bringing the city of Gredaaline back into prominence and prosperity.¡±


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    Reaching over, he gave his granddaughter a one armed hug. ¡°When I discovered only a few years had passed here, I took my reward in a trip home. To see my family once again, and originally to share what I gained in the Many Bordered land.¡±


    He held out his hand into which a golden coin shimmered into view.


    ¡°Spacial magic. Go ahead and take it. One gold Brody, which I would like to note was not my idea to call it that. Back in Gredaaline city, it could get you a luxury meal for two and an overnight stay in a high class room at a hotel. Here it can get you about three hundred bucks in a pawn shop since no one legitimate wants to deal in otherworldly coins.¡±


    I took the coin with a ridged rim and an image on one side that could be Brody along with some writing, and an image of an ornate building with a high tower on the other side.


    ¡°Apparently a directive from the government has gone out demanding all such coinage to be turned in to the department of the treasury. Just claim on your blog that I made you give it back.¡±


    The horrible evil dragon man then made me give him the gold coin back. Damn his eyes.


    ¡°Spacial magic can also get me and anyone I want to bring back home, I even have the time flow linked to pass at the same rate for as long as I¡¯m here. I had hoped to offer my children and theirs all the benefits a magical world could offer. Which include magically enhanced health and lifespans. Even the chance to learn magic of their own.¡±


    He reached out to take hold of Sarah¡¯s hand. ¡°Instead, only Sarah cares enough to call me Grandpa and take me into her home. And she has no interest in going anywhere. At least not permanently.¡±


    The young woman smiled at her grandfather and squeezed his hand. ¡°I cried the first time I lost you Grandpa, and I¡¯ll cry again when you go. But I belong here, and I have work to do.¡±


    He clasped her hand with both of his before letting her go.


    "I''ve converted most of the gold I brought here to cash outside of the states. Sarah will be running a foundation to help some of the people who have suffered financial loss due to having a loved one Vanished. The Brody Foundation will also try to help others like me who have made it home.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°I¡¯ve met a few of them. Not everyone gets to keep the power they were given, or earned, on those other worlds. A few that did will be working with Sarah.¡±


    The dragon man gave me a hard look. "Some of them have the ability to tell when someone is lying, magically. Let people know that lying to get undeserved handouts will not work, and will get them a nasty curse.¡±


    He snarled. ¡°I will not tolerate anyone wasting our time and trying to steal resources from those in genuine need. Let them be warned. Examples can be made.¡±


    He gave me another toothy grin. ¡°As for those who would come after my grandchild for any reason. She will always be protected and there are far worse fates than a mere curse."


    Sarah punched him in the shoulder. ¡°Cut it out. I can take care of myself now Grandpa.¡±


    She gave me a grin. ¡°I spent a few weeks, here time, which was a few dozen years, there time.¡±


    Sarah held up one of her hands, flames rose up in the shape of a dragon taking flight before they flickered out.


    ¡°You are looking at a graduate of the Gredaaline School of Wizardry. With a Majoric degree in Magical theory and a Minoric in teaching."


    She started to stand up, only for her grandfather to leap to his feet and offer her a hand, which she took with a sigh.


    ¡°Against my grandfather¡¯s wishes, I will be teaching a fundamentals of sorcery class at the community center starting this weekend. All the spots in the class are filled. But I will be posting videos online at Brodyfoundation.mag, where anyone in need of help due to the Vanishing or a Returning can contact us for help.¡±


    I thanked them for the interview and we said our goodbyes. As the two of them headed out of the park, two people turned from their conversation to follow them out of the park with side glances all around as they pressed one hand each up against their ears as they whispered into their shirt collars.


    Something or someone not quite visible took flight overhead.


    The Brodys seemed like nice people who genuinely wanted to help others. If you lost someone, even if you don¡¯t need financial help. I suggest contacting them.


    I will be sending them a request for a forum to help people find and even organized support groups. I suspect a lot of people may just need someone to talk to.


    For myself. I¡¯ll be downloading a video this weekend called Introduction to Magic.


    And cursing that evil dragon who took that golden coin from me which I definitely no longer have.


    Addendum:


    I didn¡¯t think of it at the time, but Brody said he was taken after his death.


    We¡¯re already guessing at just how many people are being Vanished since so many people disappear without any witnesses or recording, just how many of our dead are being taken?

 4] An old friend, and some new concerns:

    4] An old friend, and some new concerns:


    ¡°First of all, let me say I¡¯m so sorry about your mom.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t seen Vihaan Wargo since we had been arrested in our teens. I spent almost a year in jail. His parents got the charges against him dropped.


    I never blamed him. My public defender, John Turner, took the time to explain that their efforts to get their son out of trouble had done nothing to make my situation worse. Me punching a cop had done that all on my own.


    The bastard deserved it. While I was waiting for my trial, he had charges brought against him for brutality in a separate incident. He didn''t spend a single night in jail and is now working as a cop in another state. But the charges against me got dropped down to a misdemeanor thanks to Mr Turner.


    He works at a firm called Gregoric and Turner now. Good people. They believe you have the right to have someone who knows what the hell they¡¯re doing representing you in court without bankrupting you.


    Vihaan had become a lawyer himself, but I don¡¯t know what kind. It had been too long.


    I thanked him for his condolences and then suggested he make his pitch.


    ¡°Alright Jim, what I was hoping I could talk about was legal representation for those who have lost a loved one to the Vanishing and can not get their insurance companies to honor the contracts they agreed to when they took people¡¯s money.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Like with me and my mom.¡±


    He nodded with a grimace. ¡°It¡¯s only a matter of time before the lobbyists for the insurance companies get one of their pet senators to push through a bill that will have an attachment to protect them from paying out on any form of insurance due to a Vanishing. I think a class action suit might help prevent that or at least get them to pay out some money they owe in a settlement.¡±


    I gave him a long look. ¡°And your law firm will get a cut.¡±


    He gave me a grin in return which I hadn''t seen in a long time and held up his finger. ¡°Only if we win, the partners have already agreed.¡± He nodded and winked. ¡°And if it¡¯s enough money I get to become a partner myself.¡±


    Okay. That kind of lawyer.


    Making himself look serious, he continued in a more somber tone. ¡°I also get to help an old friend I should have come looking for years ago. I''m so sorry I left you to rot. I should have tried harder to get my parents to try to help you.¡±


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    I held my eyes shut for a moment before opening them to look him in the eyes. "It was probably for the best that you kept your distance. I was angry with you for a long time. You had a life you needed to get started, and I needed time. We¡¯re good.¡±


    Viraan had attempted to get into contact with the Brody Foundation already but hadn''t heard anything from them. I passed his contact information along to Sarah Brody by way of her personal email since that¡¯s what I promised him.


    I recommend looking on the Brody Foundation''s page for a listing of approved law firms to contact for legal representation. I can only hope Viraan''s firm gets their approval.


    If they don¡¯t, I¡¯m not holding my breath that my old friend will contact me again. I don¡¯t hate him anymore, but now we¡¯re only people who used to be friends.


    I talked to my old public defender, Mr Turner about setting up a living will in case I ever end up Vanished. An old friend of mine who did keep in contact with me will, if need be, arrange to store my possessions while my house gets rented out and the money used to preserve it so me or my Mom have a place to return to.


    In the studio apartment over the garage if need be until any current renters are out of the main house.


    If I''m gone for more than twenty years, and my Mom never comes back, the house will be sold and the money will be donated to the Brody Foundation or whatever other group is most prominently trying to help people whose lives got destroyed by the Vanishing.


    I will post a link to the contract I had gotten written up if anyone what to set up the same arrangement, but you will need to contact a lawyer to make sure it''s applicable in your state and county. You¡¯ll find a forum link if you want to put copies of your own below.


    Some other things you might want to think about.


    If you Vanish, is there someone who will check up on you before your pets starve, and will they find them a home?


    Is someone going to be able to find your car before it gets towed?


    Was the last thing you said to your loved ones the words you want to be your last ones?


    Addendum:


    A lot of people asked about the incident that got me sent to jail. While I mentioned it to help explain why I was a little dubious of my old buddy, I guess I also wanted people to ask.


    Which some people also suggested. Some more kindly than others.


    Short version. The cop had a guy in a chokehold and wasn''t letting him loose even after he went limp. People yelled. People tried to get the other cop who was there to stop him.


    I made a call, and put my elbow into the side of the psycho¡¯s face.


    The cop got a black eye. I got tasered, pepper sprayed, handcuffed, and ¡°tripped¡± headfirst into the edge of the roof getting into the back of the cop car. Twice.


    The guy who got choked lived. He wasn¡¯t even the person they had been looking for.


    Worth it.


    My college plans got delayed indefinitely. My time in jail waiting on my trial messed me up a lot. I needed some time and distance to get my head right, or at least something close. It took me a long time and finding out my Mom was dying for me to be ready to come home and start trying to put my life back together.


    Other than missing some of the little time I had left with Mom, I still think it was worth it.


    Mom had agreed.


    The guy that I helped attended the memorial service, with his husband and their two children. He finished dental school two years ago. Which brought up one more thing to think about.


    Are your teeth in good enough shape to last you a while in a world without dentists?


    I got an appointment next week. His office¡¯s link is down below.


    Mention the blog and your first cleaning is half off.


    Addendum:


    Yeah, I guess I did know a gay guy before George. I had just never picked up on it when he visited me in jail that one time to thank me. It¡¯s probably not the first, or the last time, I don¡¯t notice something like that in a casual conversation.


    Am I supposed to?

 5] Little Green Men:

    5] Little Green Men:


    He sent me a plane ticket, economy, but from the airport, I had to take an Uber at my own expense.


    The middle eastern driver in the minivan wasn''t happy when I told him the address. "I''ll drop you off nearby, but I am not driving into Mirkwood.¡±


    It seemed like the place had already gotten a reputation.


    ¡°Get me as close as you can then.¡±


    I still tipped.


    Walking into the old industrial park, even from four blocks away, I could feel eyes on me. And motion behind me as I was quietly followed in.


    When I had gotten to the actual address, an old man sitting on the front steps held up a bottle of something in a sort of salute. ¡°You the blogger?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re not the Goblin King.¡±


    He laughed, then coughed, spit, and took another swig of his bottle. "Nope, the court jester. His majesty is inside. Along with his court. They¡¯re expecting you.¡±


    The lighting wasn¡¯t the best inside the building due to it not having any power, but various broken windows and holes in the roof let through enough light to allow me to see the aged looking little green man with only one arm who gave me a nod and raised his skull topped staff up in the air in greeting before turning around to lead me deeper inside.


    He was wearing a Paw Patrol shirt, sized for a child. Along with a set of similarly sized cargo shorts, and full sized flip flops with a few inches cut off the back on his oversized clawed feet.


    A word that might have been ¡°Come.¡± came from him before he led me down a hall into a large room. The windows had been covered with old sheets which allowed a sullen glow from the sun outside to dimly light up the room.


    There were well over three dozen small feral looking goblins in the room. Mostly women and a gaggle of tiny children quietly playing with some battered looking old toys. All of the adults were dressed in used looking child sized clothing mixed in with ordainments made of bones, feathers, and horns.


    Many of them had piercings made of the same and ornate tattoos in a wide array of colors.


    On particularly large muscular one stood up from a rescued from the trash looking couch, after scooting to the edge to get his feet on the ground, and strode forward at me with his hand out. ¡°King Ernie. Thanks for coming. I would have thought the media would have been lining up to interview me, but I guess everyone wants to talk to the elves over in Idaho. Seems pretty racist to me.¡±


    He grinned at me with a mouthful of shark like teeth and solid black eyes.


    ¡°Can¡¯t imagine why.¡±


    He called out something in a guttural language, then shouted something before a pair of his people reluctantly dragged over a chair for me.


    I set my phone to record and placed it on top of a cable spool covered in melted away candles. A single large dull orange one in a jar still burned with a pumpkin spice scent.


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    He perched himself on the edge of his couch again, I guess he didn¡¯t want his short legs hanging in the air while people watched the interview.


    ¡°So for the record. I¡¯m pretty sure I froze to death a few years back. In this very same building in fact.¡±


    His majesty looked down for a moment in thought, looking almost lost.


    ¡°I visited the field they buried me in. The closest I could figure out where my grave was somewhere within twenty feet of a field maker.¡±


    He shook his head, then looked up again with a thin smile.


    ¡°My people call the world I ended up at the Cook Pot, although calling it Khert¡¯sha might sound better, but it still means the pot for food though.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°Specifically, whatever you can throw in, cook up, and choke down without it putting up much of a fight. Such is life for my kind."


    ¡°I didn¡¯t arrive there as an adult, I had to go through the whole being born and growing up deal. Which was an advantage of sorts. I had plenty of time to learn the language, and all about their society.¡±


    He threw his hands wide. "And I didn''t get any explanations. No hottie in a sheer white gown with wings, no old man giving me a special power, just getting pushed out from between my Goblin Mom''s legs and getting to grow up as a member of the weakest race on Cook Pot."


    Grinning again, he leaned forward at me. ¡°But we Goblins. We¡¯re survivors. And we¡¯re good with our hands.¡±


    He reached behind his back and dug in between the cushions to produce a small, double barreled flintlock pistol. "We lost a few people getting them to work, but once we did, we had an advantage, and we definitely had the numbers.¡±


    Running his hands along the barrel he grinned again. ¡°Introducing soap and making the midwives wash their hands cut down infant mortality a lot.¡±


    ¡°Once I took charge as their new king, we began to take prisoners when the other races tried some punitive expeditions. Some of them had useful information.¡±


    He tucked the pistol away. ¡°Such as the existence of a Nexus gate. A magical engine that could open a portal to any place you had ever been. And there I was, someone who had come from another world.¡±


    Spreading his hands out to indicate all of the little creatures around us, he gave me a nod. "A world where goblins aren''t hunted for easy kills. A world where my children can grow up, go to school, even get jobs. The American Dream. So I brought the whole family with me.¡±


    He dropped his hands to his sides. ¡°And no one wants to talk to us. Except you.¡±


    Counting off on his fingers, he explained what his people could do. ¡°We got healers, magical healers, as well as seeds from magic plants that can be used to produce Alchemical cures for just about anything. We got beast speakers that can train animals as guide dogs for the blind, drug sniffers, or even helper monkeys. We got shamen who can ward vermin from coming into a building.¡±


    He slapped his hands on his knees. "They can even ward away specific bacteria and viruses now that I showed what those look like in a kid¡¯s microscope.¡±


    Clinching his hands into fists, he began to nearly shout. ¡°We have everything to offer, and all I¡¯ve heard from is the local government is to just stay here until the feds show up to deal with us and they''ll send food so we don¡¯t go hungry.¡±


    He breathed heavily for a moment before clearing his throat and looking at my phone.


    ¡°So if there is anyone out there who wants to develop a whole new field of groundbreaking products and services. I got dozens of experts willing to work in several fields, and to teach people. We just need a fair cut of the money, and some sort of legal status.¡±


    ¡°Send your representatives and a couple of buses. We can be ready to go in minutes. Just get here soon in case someone decides we¡¯re a problem that is best to just disappear.¡±


    He glared at my phone. ¡°And for anyone planning on that, keep in mind I had to fight through one of the most defended fortresses on Cook Pot to gain control of the Nexus. We won¡¯t go down easily.¡±


    ¡°The cook pot always needs filling.¡±


    After making his statement, I got him talking about Cook Pot. Turned out he believed it was a flat world floating on a sea of flames. Or at least that¡¯s what he was told. ¡°I made it to the edge once, nothing but hot smoke that seemed to go on forever and fields of burning lava down below. But I don¡¯t know for sure that it went all around the world.¡±


    I also got a tour of the building that he had joined together by knocking down walls and reshaping bricks with magic. In addition to his tribe of Goblins, he had a few dozen humans around. ¡°Some of them I knew from before I died. It''s only been four years here. All homeless people like me. Others were new, or even showed up after we got here.¡±


    He dug into his pocket and produced a thick roll of cash. "Coins from Cook Pot aren''t that hard to convert to cash if you got a human as a frontman. They also spend it for me buying extra groceries and kid¡¯s clothes at thrift stores. As long as they get a cut to buy things for themselves it works out pretty well.¡±


    Waving a hand around, he scowled. "A few of them found out the hard way how easy it was for some of my scouts to follow them around unseen. No one steals from me."


    He gave me an accusing look. ¡°I didn¡¯t hurt any of them, they just aren''t welcome here anymore.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t said anything.


    I shook hands with him before I called for a ride, then walked the two miles to somewhere a Rideshare was willing to pick me up.


    It looked like humanity was now sharing our worlds with other races, and how we treat them now, may affect how we interact with them later. Ignoring and isolating the entire population of a new race of people may not be the best plan.


    We can, and should, do better than this.

 6] Interview with a Game Wizard:

    6] Interview with a Game Wizard:


    I received my a copy of Level Up: Roleplaying in a Isekai World in the mail along with an invitation to set up an interview with it¡¯s writer.


    According to the preface, the writer claimed to have spent a three hundred and seventy seven years in a world that resembled a LitRPG novel setting. One in which you had a virtual character sheet, gained experience in various ways, and leveled up. Gaining bonuses to the ability scores on your character sheet and special powers based on your class.


    The people of Ederone had developed a role playing game based on the rules that governed their world as a training aid, so all the writer had to do when he came back to Earth was translate it.


    As neither of us were in a position to pay for me to fly to France where the writer lived, the interview was done on a social site. The log of which I have copy and pasted here.


    Donner has entered the room-


    Brenner: I assume that¡¯s you Mr. Bennot?


    Donner: Please call me Don, I used the name for a much larger portion of my life then the one I was born with back here.


    Brenner: Why don¡¯t you tell me about your game Don.


    Donner: Well to start with, the game was a cheap alternative for a training aid for people to simulate builds for what classes they planned on taking in the future. On Enderone it¡¯s mainly played by children who can¡¯t take a class until they reach the age of maturity for their race.


    Brenner: Which is?


    Donner: 15 for humans, 77 for elves, and 42 for dwarves. That last one there I took to have greater meaning then it really did since I was a Douglas Adams fan.


    Brenner: You said it was a cheaper alternative?


    Donner: Think magical Holo-deck. Most universities had at least one, as did some of the wealthiest families and the big guilds. Although Syndicate might be a better name for them. Me, bitter? Yep.


    Brenner: Let¡¯s come back around on that in a bit. What was so involved in these classes that you had to plan ahead.


    Donner: Well you have Basic classes, think fighter, adept, seamstress, black smith. Those classes you could finish up in 3 levels, or about a year of time invested. Above that you had Advanced classes which took 6 levels to finish, but took more effort to advance, and then you had Master classes above that which took 9 levels and might take up most of you lifetime to finish.


    Taking even an Advanced class that would be hard for you to level up in could end up wasting a major portion of your life struggling to advance it if you picked the wrong one. And you normally only picked your Master class near the mid point of your career to work on until you retired.


    Brenner: Was their a limit on how many classes you could take.


    Donner: Nope. Some people spent the first several years of their adulthood gaining 5 or 6 Basic classes to figure what they wanted to do before settling down into a real job and an Advanced class. I had 24 basics by the time I came back to Earth. But some of those were retirement classes I took after completing my third Master class.


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    Brenner: Why did you come back to Earth?


    Donner: It¡¯s a little personal, but I don¡¯t mine. I got my intuition score up high enough that I figured out why my girlfriend was acting so flaky just before I got Isekaied, or Vanished, in a magic school accident. She was freaking out over telling me that I had gotten her pregnant. Since I had only been gone a few months Earth time and a divination spell showed me she had decided to keep the kid, I wanted to do the right thing. Besides I missed Earth.


    Brenner: So considering how long you were there, you weren''t human?


    Donnor: Nope, I was human. Same body as I had here, but adventuring got me into shape pretty fast. But when age caught up with me and my body started to fail, I went undead. Some nations are cool with undead like Liches and other types that don¡¯t prey on people. A few are even okay with the ones that do.


    Brenner: So you¡¯re a Liche?


    Donner: Nope. My deal with the gods to allowed me to come back included returning the same way I arrived. Human, 23, and out of shape.


    Same ability score as I started with. No classes, no powers. Only my memories.


    And my cheat.


    Brenner: Okay, I¡¯ll bite. Cheat?


    Donner: Sublime Memory. A gift from the goddess of magic as an apology for her people accidentally kidnapping me and not being able to send me back. It¡¯s like photographic or Eidentic memory on crack.


    I remember everything I did and saw during my entire life, both before I got to Ederone, while I was there, and everything since I¡¯ve been back.


    Once I learned that I could come back and that taking a dozen or so years to catch up with my reading was only going to cost me another two days Earth time, I went on a reading bender.


    Brenner: Anything¡­ Practical?


    Donner: I have a lot of theoretical knowledge about a lot of subjects, and I still remember a lot of practical knowledge from my various classes.


    Learning how to do the magic I learned before again would be hopeless though, I would need a class to use it.


    There¡¯s an online class that is giving me some hope. It all seems to align with some theoretical stuff on classless magic I¡¯d read up on.


    Brenner: I¡¯m familiar with the class. Haven¡¯t been able to do anything with it yet.


    So how did turning your past experiences into a game work?


    Donner: Well, all I had to do was translate the Basic rule set and add some fluff like ¡°What is a Roleplaying game?¡± It took me some time to do it, so I¡¯m holding off on the advanced books to see if I manage to get a market base before I commit to spending so much more time and effort.


    Brenner: Are these books going to be all that useful? I¡¯ve spoken to several returnees, and none of the places they went to worked like a game.


    Donner: Ederone was one of only hundred of known world with similar RPG systems running them.


    While only a few people from Earth might end up in one of them, even if they end up in a more normal magic fantasy world, playing the game might help them think in practical terms of what they can do in such a world.


    At least it can¡¯t hurt.


    Brenner: Finally, you mentioned Guilds?


    Donnor. From what I understand, they started off as mutual support systems for people leveling up as adventures and problem solvers. But as time went by they became more like the soulless corporations we all know and love here on Earth. Everything became about profit, and anyone not willing to sell out to them not only had a hard time trying to be an adventurer, they could even end up in real danger just for being successful as an independent.


    Someone even told me once to know my place.


    Outlived the bastard and pissed on her grave.


    Brenner: Would you ever go back?


    Donnor: In a heartbeat, but only after I¡¯ve lived a long human life with my family, my friends, and taking the chance to enjoy everything Earth has to offer. If I do get another chance I think I would go with a warrior priest build.


    Kaja1869 has entered the room


    Kaja1869: Earn thousand of dollars working at home.


    Brenner: That seems like a hint to bring the conversation to close. Thanks for taking the time for the interview Don. And thanks for the free copy of your game, both it and this interview has given me some new thoughts.


    I will include some links to your store website for your game in the blog.


    Donnor: Thank for having me.


    Addendum:


    Brenner has ended the session.


    Donnor did in fact inspire me. I need to pick up some practical skills in case I get taken to somewhere I will need them. No one is going to take me from another world to live a peaceful life for my dish washing skills..


    I¡¯m going to need some wilderness survival skills for one, and how to fight.


    No, more then that. I going to need to learn how to kill.

 7] Practical Skills

    7] Practical Skills


    My carry concealed permit for my state is still good, a leftover from when I thought carrying a knife around with me was a good idea. Although it turned out that now it was, so I¡¯m doing it again.


    What I need now is a small handgun I can carry around in my Ready 2 Go bag, which I am thinking of replacing with something classier, and more durable, like a leather messenger bag.


    But I also want to keep up with the unspoken understanding that in return for getting a free bag, I will carry it around to give Ready 2 Go free advertising.


    Maybe I can get a badge with the company logo on it to sew on the messenger bag.


    In any case, I want a small, simple, lightweight handgun that can do some damage, and enough ammo to reload it a few times. That''s going to take some research, but with this being the US, I have to wait thirty days to get anything I do decide to buy. So I should have some time to think it over.


    I hope.


    Meanwhile, I have purchased three throwing axes, only one of which I plan to carry around in my Go bag.


    The other two are for when I¡¯m practicing throwing them into the plywood board I¡¯ve nailed up in the back of my garage, With three of them I can throw three, then go get them out of the target, instead of throwing one, and then going to get it one out of the target after every throw.


    The advantage of a throwing ax is that I can use it to chop up wood for a fire or for building a shelter, so it can double as a tool and a weapon.


    I thought about throwing knives, but I don¡¯t think they are really all that dangerous. At least not the flat ones. Throwing stars are right out, at best they are just distractions, even if they can be painful distractions.


    There are several no hunting limit species of animals in my state that can be hunted year round. Most squirrels, pigeons, opossums, and even coyotes. I don¡¯t think I want to try hunting anything with a handgun, so instead I get a wrist rocket.


    A wrist rocket is basically a slingshot made of surgical tubing, with a metal brace on the handle that folds out to rest on your arm so you can pull back the leather cup with a stone in it, or in my case a marble, with a lot of tension without worrying about the handle slipping out of your hand and smacking you in the knuckles or right in the face.


    Cheap, small, lightweight, and dangerous enough I wouldn¡¯t want to get hit by something shot out of it, but I don''t think I will be taking down a coyote with one.


    But killing a squirrel, and then trying to follow the free video¡¯s on how to field dress it. That I can do.


    The surgical tubes won¡¯t last forever, so I¡¯ve watched a few videos on how to use an old time whirl around your head sling. But that¡¯s not something I can practice in my garage.


    But on my upcoming camping trip, I can give it a try. As well as collecting wild edible plants, making a shelter from found material, and a bunch of other things I¡¯ve watched a few videos about.


    If nothing else, I can go and make my rookie mistakes here on Earth.


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    I do find some classes on survival offered up by special schools, and even one sponsored by the state. But most of them don¡¯t start up for several more weeks, and I would like to try some things on my own first, so I know what I need to learn.


    Having killed a few days looking things up and making some plans, now I needed to look for a trainer in martial arts. Something that includes training in fighting with a knife, a staff, and a spear.


    And dealing with someone with a knife, a staff, or a spear trying to kill me.


    I¡¯m not going to find that in a stripe mall Cobra Kai.


    Asking around, and looking online eventually led to a dirty worn out looking gym whose name I¡¯m not going to share, and an old but still very fit man named Robert.


    Not Master Robert, or Sensai, or Teacher. Just Robert.


    There were about a dozen guys with me that day. Some slightly out of shape guys like me, some tough guys, biker types with what I think are prison tats, and a few ridiculously young looking guys that might still be in their teens.


    Robert doesn''t look happy to see any of us.


    ¡°The first thing I¡¯m willing to teach you is the same Rape Defense class I normally teach to little girls.¡±


    He gave each of us a look. ¡°Yeah, all of you have a problem with that. But teaching you Rape Defense will do three things.¡±


    With a sigh, he began to pace. ¡°One, it will teach you how to hit someone with the intent to try to hurt them. Doing that is more of an issue for girls, but even men these days are used to being civilized.¡±


    ¡°Before I can teach you anything else, you need to know how to hit someone so hard your fist hurts, your knuckles bleed, and you don¡¯t freeze up in concern for how bad you hurt someone because you are trying to make sure they don¡¯t get up and try to hurt you back.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s something that has to be learned after a lifetime of being told it¡¯s wrong.¡±


    He stooped pacing and turned to face us. ¡°Two, you need to learn how to take a hit.¡±


    Stepping up to one of the guys my age, he shoved him hard enough that the guy almost fell over backwards.


    ¡°You need to learn how to swing back with blood running down your nose and your head reeling. How to keep fighting because stopping means you could die.¡±


    He grinned. ¡°If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball. Best part of that movie, hell, it was the only good part of it.¡±


    ¡°As part of this training, I will hit you to hurt you. If you can take a punch from me and keep fighting, you will have at least a chance to survive against someone trying to kill you.¡±


    He gave us all a long look. "The third thing putting all of you through rape defense training will do is tell me who is capable of letting me train them, my way. If you turn your nose up at going through something that is normally woman¡¯s training, then I can¡¯t do nothing with you, and you might as well walk.¡±


    Two of the tough guys walked out, and some of the others looked a little dubious, but I was in.


    If someone is trying to hurt, or kill me, yeah, sign me up to learn to go for a kick to the crouch, or fingernails to the eyes. I don¡¯t want to be cool, I don¡¯t want to win some stupid bar parking lot fight.


    I want to live.


    One of the teens leaves after getting his nose broken on the first night. He was back for the next class.


    Asking Robert about training in knife fighting gets me a long look. ¡°Finish with what I got to start you with. Let me have enough time to get a feel for you to be sure you aren''t a poseur or a psycho, and we¡¯ll talk.¡± Then he glanced off to the side in thought ¡°But yeah, I can teach you how to use a knife.¡±


    My classes are only twice a week, but on Robert¡¯s recommendation, I¡¯m joining a gym.


    A regular modern looking one that has bright lights doesn''t smell of stale sweat and feet, and lacks even one bloodstain on the mats. One that is closer to my house. I¡¯m going three days a week.


    Light weights with high repetition, treadmill, and an aerobics class with a bunch of soccer moms.


    All for his first rule of training. ¡°Endurance above all. If you can¡¯t beat them, outrun them. And the longer you last, the more you can train.¡±


    I had no idea I was this out of shape.


    A low carb, low salt diet with smaller portions is something I decided on my own. Lots of cut up vegetables and homemade hummus. As well as chicken and nuts. After even just two weeks, the pounds are melting away.


    The first few pounds are supposed to be the easy ones, but I''m hungry all the time. The local food pantry is more than happy to accept most of every food from my kitchen that is capable of giving me joy. All except the stuff that''s past its sell date.


    I don''t think hungry people care all that much if the fast food brand sauce I grabbed from the discount shelf is a month past the recommended date, but I''m guessing the donation center has to meet government regulations.


    Chips, ice cream, chocolate, beer, even just bread. I miss it. But in another world, it¡¯s not likely that I would have access to any of the good stuff. By that logic, I should be indulging while I can, but the extra pounds from all of it could get me killed later on.


    Besides, it¡¯s nice to be able to pull the front of my pants away from my gut and have a gap.


    If I keep this up, I might have to buy some new clothes. I''m thinking something durable, with a lot of pockets.

 8] This is what we were made for.

    8] This is what we were made for.


    I''ve never thought I would be bringing a guy flowers.


    But Solomon Greenburg has been dead for the last four years, and entombed here on Earth for two of those. Flowers are what you bring when you visit the dead.


    The great equalizer.


    His artificial children had entombed him right in the house he lived in until he vanished twenty eight years ago. In the middle of a suburb, right in the middle of the block.


    The homeowner association fined them each month, they got their money.


    The house on one side was up for sale. The sign looked to have been out front for a while.


    His Golems had shown up one day with an offer in gold bars to buy the house from the latest in the series of owners since Greenberg had vanished in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm.


    After some lawyers got involved, and the gold was converted to cash, a trust was set up to handle the Golems legally taking possession of the house.


    Greenberg''s last wish on his deathbed in the tower that had become his home in another world, was ¡°I want to go home.¡± They decided that he meant the home that he had been taken from.


    It was a long, but tolerable drive to his home on Mayfair Street. And the two story high golden statue standing on the front lawn made finding the address easy enough.


    The smooth featured Golem held a simple, waist high, on him, sword in front of it, making it look, and it had to be deliberate, like an enormous Oscar statue.


    As I recognized it, the metallic features of the Golem¡¯s face moved seamlessly into a grin and a slow exaggerated wink.


    I gave it a nod in return and headed up to the front door.


    A woman made of brightly polished copper wearing a blue with white flowers house dress opened the door as I approached and welcomed me by name. "Hello, Mr. Brenner. My name is Penny. Please come in.¡±


    Unlike ¡°Oscar¡± who had been standing out front, Penny had actual eyes made of smooth all white orbs and lips that opened as she spoke.


    The interior of the house was like stepping back into the nineteen fifties, or rather, a magazine photo of one rather than a home that was actually lived in. Everything was brand new looking, and clean.


    Penny noted my confused look. ¡°We used divination magic to find as many of his possessions from the time he lived here as we could, the items that had survived anyways. The rest are the same brand and models as Father''s possessions from when he was taken or custom made reproductions. All the original items were restored by magic. We wanted his home to be as close as it could be to how he left it.¡±


    She took the bundle of lilies from me. ¡°Let me take those and put them in some water. Then I can take you upstairs to pay your respects.¡±


    Other people, including some officials, had gotten the Golems story before. Greenberg had been taken by a summoning ritual by the Republic of Kapdashar State University due to his skills as an Engineer and Metallurgist.


    The ritual was supposed to summon someone who could bring everlasting peace to their world.


    The Kadorians had been using magically powered automatons to defend their nation against hostiles of all stripes and had found themselves hard pressed with the development of weapons powerful enough to take down their war machines.


    After getting brought up to speed on magic, Greenburg had come up with the idea of giving the automatons intelligence, and self will.


    They got their peace and then had to deal with Greenburg''s creations. Sentient beings with wants and desires of their own.


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    Up the plastic covered stairs I followed my hostess to an old fashioned looking bachelor¡¯s bedroom. With the elderly Soloman Greenburg under the covers in a dark blue set of pajamas. His long white beard was neatly combed out.


    A glistening coat of something covered his hair and skin, somehow preserving his flesh and preventing it from decaying or giving off the accompanying smell. His cheeks were hollow, not from death but more likely from the age associated illnesses that had ended him.


    A cruder looking mechanical dog that had been lying at his bedside rose and trotted over to me as I stood there respectfully, without a clue what I was supposed to do now.


    It sat down beside me. I was a little surprised when it spoke. ¡°Father was already in his sixties when he was brought over to Keptashar. The magic he mastered stretched out his remaining years three times as long as he should have lived. But eventually, old age caught still up with him.¡±


    I considered trying to pet the mechanical hound, but the whole being able to talk thing, and it being a mechanical dog made me decide to play it safe. ¡°So time passed slower in the Republic.¡±


    The hound looked up. ¡°Eighteen years here, fifty five there. I think the ratio of time wasn¡¯t as bad as most worlds and Earth because magic was a more involved process there, something that required long rituals and devices rather than spells they could just throw around with a few magic words.¡±


    ¡°The more magical a universe is, the worse the time difference seems to be. Or at least that is my theory. Oh yes, you call me Spot. Father had a sense of humor.¡±


    That time difference part sounded... accurate. And something I should look into. Eventually.


    Greenberg had ultimately created what he called an Emet, a way of giving his creations life and he believed, a soul. More importantly, it gave the automatons he created and called Golems the ability to make their own decisions, and this is key, the ability and desire to duck when automaton killing ordinance was pointed at them.


    And take cover, and demand their opponents to surrender instead of killing them without remorse even as they tried to run. That saved a lot of lives on both sides.


    Then the wars ended and they were left without a job.


    ¡°We have tried to do what our Father wanted us to do, what we had been made to do, but we find ourselves no longer needed for that. Instead, we tried to help in other ways, but there were living veterans who needed those jobs. And had families to provide for."


    ¡°We found ourselves unwanted, and alone.¡±


    I thought that over. "Well, it isn¡¯t just what he wanted you to do for others. What did he want for you for yourselves?¡±


    I suddenly found myself with Spot and Penny¡¯s complete attention. Outside the bedroom window, a golden giant leaned down to stare into the window with its smooth molded face.


    I froze up for a second. ¡°Ah, you called him your father. Parents normally want something for their children, not just things from them.¡±


    The hound looked at the dead body. ¡°What did he want, for us? That¡¯s a good question, for all of us.¡±


    Visiting the house on Mayfair had given me a few things to think about. Like how we should treat artificial life on Earth, as servants, slaves, or children.


    We have an opportunity now, to learn how other societies handled things, and what were the consequences of their decisions.


    Maybe I will even be here long enough to see which way we go.


    Addendum:


    Let me be clear.


    I didn¡¯t mean for them to invade Palestine. I didn¡¯t even suggest anything like that.


    But I can see how and why they decided to do it. Their Jewish father made them to defend a nation and named them after the Golem, a creature made to protect the Jews from people hostile to them.


    And for the legions of Golems he had made, who were no longer needed to defend the nation of their creation, a Jewish nation under attack from people hostile to them sounded like a job worth doing.


    Their father created them with the ability to take prisoners when facing people they had no chance in a fight against them. So they didn¡¯t just march in and start killing Palestinians, not the citizens, not the soldiers, and not even their leaders.


    Instead, they arrested the people they considered the troublemakers.


    The divination magic they had access to ensured they broke down the only the doors of only those who had given the orders to kill civilians, and those that carried them out. And to be fair they arrested quite a few people from Israel as well for the same reasons. As they put it. ¡°War crimes are war crimes. No matter which side committed them.¡±


    I wonder if a few people in our Congress and the Pentagon ended up sweating the idea of the Golems applying that rule to people outside of the Israel-Palestine conflict.


    After getting the worst of the worst out of the way¡­ the Golems started building sewers in Palestine.


    And repairing Hospitals, schools, fire stations, the power grid, and got fresh water flowing again to every home.


    Why? When asked they stated. ¡°The less they suffer, the less reason they will have to hate.¡±


    And for those that still hate? ¡°They may hate, as long as they do not act.¡±


    As for the people they arrested. ¡°They are being held in another world. In two separate penal colonies. Some of them may be returned if they should truly feel remorse for their actions and we believe they will no longer be a danger to others."


    Their justification for all it. ¡°No one here was fixing the problem. So we are fixing it for you. You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    The Golems I had seen around the house on Mayfair turned out to be just a handful of the Golems that Soloman made as one offs. A sort of honor guard.


    The ones he made to defend the republic on that other world numbered in the thousands. And they are all now here.


    Several of them have been destroyed. Weapons made to wreak tanks can take them down, but the minds which ride around in the metal bodies just get collected and rehoused in a fresh new body in their father¡¯s tower in another world.


    A tower the size of a skyscraper with an entire industrial Golem making plant in the basement.


    They shot a documentary about their invasion, ending with the line ¡°Resistance is futile.¡±


    I guess a sense of humor is inheritable even without genetics being involved.


    Again, I didn¡¯t mean to in any way have anything to do with any of this.


    Neither Israel or Palestine are my responsibility, and while the Golems may be taking away people''s rights, they are decisively ending the bloodshed over there. So if anyone has a problem with than, tell it to them, not me.


    Not my circus, not my magically animated free willed war machines.

 9] Its not always a fantasy world

    9] It''s not always magic.


    The man was waiting for me at my kitchen table when I got home that night, sitting there in the dark, unseen until I turned on the light.


    ¡°I mean you no harm, but feel free to get your gun out.¡±


    The short haired blonde guy had a slim build and was wearing clothing with an almost high fashion look to them. Something you would only see in a photo shoot or on a catwalk rather than something anyone would actually wear in real life.


    A button up shirt without any buttons and a stiff short collar. A stiff looking coat was made of some slick tan material that sat on him as if had thicker portions lining it, like body armor. He also had some sort of mirror surfaced contact lenses on his eyes.


    Which vanished suddenly to show me a set of unnaturally blue eyes the same color that they use to paint swimming pools.


    I reached into my Ready 2 Go bag and pulled out the revolver I had picked as my ¡°for now¡± gun before sitting down in my chair on the opposite side of the table from him.


    He gave me a slight smile. ¡°For most people, inviting them to arm themselves would incline them to trust me enough that I meant them no harm that they wouldn¡¯t bother. From your blog, I should have known."


    I nodded at him and turned off the safety as I rested the gun and my hand on the table, not quite pointing it at him. "Is it time? Can I change my clothes and get the rest of my stuff.¡±


    He looked confused for a moment. ¡°Ah, no. Sorry. I¡¯m not here to Vanish you. I just wanted to tell someone my story.¡±


    Ah... I sighed and put the safety back on. "I''m getting myself something to drink before you get started, you want anything?¡±


    He took one of the beers I hadn¡¯t had the heart to throw out after I decided to start trying to lose weight. I went with a glass of sugar free lemon flavored drink mix with a lot of ice. The stuff tasted pretty good even if artificial sweetener that was supposed to be bad for you, long term at least.


    I wasn¡¯t planning on long term being a problem for me.


    He took a drink of the beer and nodded as I held up my phone with my brows raised to see if he minded if I set it record.


    ¡°Go ahead. You can call me Jason. Jason Pigousesky. Although it¡¯s been a while since I used my last name, they don¡¯t exactly use them over there. And they have trouble pronouncing it.¡±


    He paused, then took a deep breath before he began his story... "So I got taken about three years ago, for testing, but not to a magic land. The one that grabbed me was all science and ran slower than Earth time. At about a seven to nine ratio to Earth.¡±


    That was a first.


    He nodded at the look on my face. "That''s the main thing I wanted people to know. All the people getting kidnapped from Earth has made it easier for people to get taken, or even slip into other worlds by accident."


    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    ¡°At least the accidental ones will end up on worlds that people have already been taken to, or ones nearby them. No one should end up somewhere with no air, or at a temperature hot enough to melt metal.


    ¡°At least not by accident. Not everyone taking people is nice, or at least has a use for them.¡±


    ¡°The Eloians started developing their technology back when the Greeks were doing their thing. They think it tightened things up on their world to be more stable, and less magical. But they learned how to look at other worlds, and now ours in particular since the walls around it are weakening.¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°The more our walls come down, the easier it will be for magic to work here. Which is already becoming an issue in terms of people being taken. But a bigger problem is that as the walls fall, things will start coming here instead of just stealing us away."


    Taking a moment to knock on the top of my wooden kitchen table, he continued. "At first it will be refugees and predators. Then it will be invasive species, hunters, thieves, then invasions. Maybe even things that can end worlds.¡±


    ¡°The refugies are usually first. There are lots of places on Earth the first world nations won''t lift a finger to bother with that are still mighty fine looking for someone from a dying world.¡±


    I blew out a puff of air. Maybe my preparations would end up helping keep me alive in this world instead of on another one. ¡°What kind of time frame are we talking about here?¡±


    He shrugged. "Years, maybe only months. But either way, the longer it goes on, the faster it will be accurate."


    Standing up, he put his hands in his pockets. ¡°Anyways, I just wanted to give people a warning before I go back home. My new home. And to do some shopping. No nacho flavored corn chips on Eloia. But I will leave you with this.¡±


    He set a flash dive and a gray transparent box filled with neatly arranged round pills on the table.


    The box was small, only a dozen or so pills at most. So small in fact it that would be easy to lose.


    ¡°The flash drive holds some files on how to measure how strong your dimensional walls are, and how to build some machines that can help block incursions. Unfortunately, they''re pretty power intensive, so they included some exotic means of generating power. I¡¯m not sure how long it will take people to develop the technology, but it¡¯s all I can do to help.¡±


    I nodded toward the pill box. ¡°And those.¡±


    He picked it up and shook it up so the pills raddled. ¡°These are for you. They aren''t a miracle medicine, but they will help clean up your cardiac systems fix up your liver, and let you benefit more from exercising, and other things. For you or anyone else if you want to share them with. One pill a week will do, any more and you would be wasting them."


    I asked him about what his new world was like, but he just grinned and started in on telling me how he had "I''ve seen things..." And got as far in as mentioning the C beams in the dark near the Tannh?user Gate before I caught on.


    Smart ass.


    Then he walked out of my home, to where a ride share was waiting for him.


    So, some sort of prank, or maybe a con job? Or did I get a genuine visitor from another world?


    And should I trust these pills?


    The files look pretty complex, so I will put up a link so anyone can download them. I''m also going to send off some copies to various organizations and people who might be able to do something with them.


    Addendum:


    I send three of the pills to three different labs to be tested.


    One Agent Teresa Adams of the National Security Agency accompanied by two local police officers knocked on my door two days later with a warrant.


    ¡°My apologies Mr. Brenner. Big fan. But we¡¯re going to need those pills.¡±


    Guess they did something after all.


    Too bad I only had those dozen or so pills, because if there had been more I would have hidden some of them in several locations before the Feds showed up. But they got all of them due to my lack of foresight. Darn it.


    I had also lost the bottle they had come in at some point too, the one small enough that could have only held the twelve pills the feds took. No idea where that went.


    Agent Adams wasn''t all that upset with me, she even sent me a copy of the selfie she took of the four of us, but I''m having a hard time getting it loaded on the page.


    She also wrote up a receipt for the pills before she even left my house, and sent me a more official looking form with her name and the agency''s Assistant director''s signature on it as well.


    Along with a rather nice check. I guess I can pay to fly out on my own dime for future interviews.


    First class too.


    She didn''t ask about the files, but the links on the webpage don''t have the files attached to them, and the copies on both my computer and the flash drive are gone.


    Guess I got hacked.


    Fortunately, I send out a lot of copies. Some of them even on some cheap flash drives sent through the mail. I hope someone has the time, patience, and cash to develop some of those machines.


    And that they work.

 10) Looking for a few violent men.

    10) Looking for a few violent men.


    The invitation from White Forest Security led me to do some research.


    They were new. Like brand new. Established less than a month ago new.


    But the ticket and the check for five thousand for travel expenses were real. As was the prepaid three day hotel stay.


    I had always wanted to visit New York. Three days would give me a chance to play tourist there as well.


    A limo driven by a terse, closed mouth man picked me up at the airport and took me right to their building, or at least the building they had a floor rented on. The smiling man waiting for me in the lobby who introduced themselves as Mr Sardox immediately gave me the creeps.


    He gave me a nod and handshake with a strangely cool and narrow hand. As he slipped his hand out of mine he took out a bottle of light pink fluid and sprayed it on his hand before wiping it with a clean white cloth.


    ¡°Nothing personal Mr. Brenner. I¡¯m just a little bit vulnerable and have to be careful.¡±


    He walked me over to the elevator and used a mechanical key on the control panel. ¡°This gets us to our floor without stopping.¡±


    Then he fiddled with a rather delicate looking bracelet on his wrist and transformed from a tall, dark skinned man with neatly trimmed hair to a tall woman with long white hair, a near white complexion, and red colored eyes dressed in overlapping robes all made of layers of near white fabrics.


    All that with a set of ridged ears sticking out to either side of her head.


    "I could see that my glamour was bothering you. From your blog, I''ve picked up that you haven''t had much luck learning magic. But you are sensitive to it, so there might be hope for you yet."


    I nodded. ¡°Ah, yeah.¡±


    She blushed. ¡°Sorry, I understand talking in an elevator is something of a social no no, but I''m still figuring out when it''s permitted and when not. The video entertainments are very unreliable.¡± The elevator dinged. She smiled. ¡°Here we are.¡±


    The lobby of White Tree security looked¡­ fancy. Like someone had watched a movie showing the main office of a shady powerful corporation and said, "Let''s go with something like that!"


    Most of the staff looked like they could have been related to Sardox, or at least what he, or now she, looked like when I came into the building. And they all gave me the same twitchy feeling.


    Sardox held out her hand to show me where to head to, ¡°This way. You¡¯ll be interviewing, and being interviewed, with Vetianne.¡±


    The green eyed woman in a red power suit, who shared the same white hair, pale skin, and ears as Sardox rose to her feet as I came into the glass panel lined room. And kept rising until her head came just short of the seven foot plus ceiling. ¡°Welcome to White Tree Mr. Brenner. Please call me Verianne. No title necessary.¡±


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    She held out her narrow long fingered hand for me to shake. It wasn''t cold, but it was cooler than a human''s.


    Serious uncanny valley stuff was happening here, but it was less creepy than their false faces. She also pulled out a bottle of blue tinted fluid that had a floral scent and cleaned her hand after shaking mine.


    I held up my phone to ask if I could record, but she held up one of her hands and shook her head. "I would prefer if you didn''t. We''ll send you a copy of our recording of this interview, suitably edited of course."


    I nodded ¡°Of course.¡± I guess I could have protested. Claimed that I didn¡¯t work that way. But it wasn¡¯t like I knew how this stuff was done. I freely admit that I¡¯m an amateur here.


    As I settled down in my chair, Sardox offered me a bottle of water and then wandered off as her boss sat with her hand clasped until Sardox slid the two glass doors to the room shut behind her.


    Then Vetrianne started what I quickly realized was a sales pitch.


    ¡°Our world recently became aware of yours when one of our deep patrols rescued the remaining two members of a group of lost hikers from this world who had been captured by our eternal enemies.¡±


    She looked down at her hands and allowed herself a brief, grim grin. "You might as well call them Orcs, and my kind Elves. Those aren''t the words we use or would have chosen, but they do make things simpler."


    ¡°The surviving hikers have been returned to Earth, with their limbs regrown, and were given large amounts of the cash we have raised by converting gems. As were as the dependents of those the Orcs killed, and ate.¡±


    She unclasped her hands and held them up to either side. ¡°We can afford to be generous, and finding this world has given us something so much more valuable them money.¡±


    ¡°Hope.¡±


    The Elf grinned. I noticed she had one more set of canines than humans did.


    ¡°Our conflict with the Orcs had made my people warlike by necessity. But humans, dear sweet humans, are warlike by nature. You guys love it, and that has made you good at it.¡±


    Setting the tips of her hands down the table in front of her, she leaned forward. ¡°So we want to hire you.¡±


    I pointed at myself and raised my eyebrows.


    The incorporated elf laughed as she threw herself back in her chair. ¡°Yes, you. But it¡¯s more like we want to hire humans in general. Although hiring you and letting you report on what it¡¯s like in our world as a mercenary on a six month contract might bring in more of the people we want.¡±


    She leaned on one elbow. ¡°A hundred thousand dollars for six months there, plus combat bonuses, and it will be only six days here. Full magical medical benefits so everyone coming home will be in good shape, fully intact, with no need for glasses, and a full set of healthy, straight teeth for as long as they last them once they get back.¡±


    Clasping her hands again, she sat up straight. ¡°No need for a crash diet, or advanced science pills for you Mr. Brenner. We might even be able to help you with learning magic."


    I held up my hand. ¡°Tempting, but I¡¯m not signing up for anything right this moment. Why don¡¯t you tell me more about what¡¯s involved.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°We prefer people with a military background, but even for them the first four weeks are a training program for fitness and familiarizing people with the enemy, their beasts, and their vulgar version of magic.¡±


    For a moment she had a look of distaste on her lips.


    "Everyone gets equipped with AK-47 rifles, 45. automatics pistols, and body armor. All made on Earth. And all proven, reliable gear. We can afford cutting edge, but we would rather hand out what our employees know will work.¡±


    ¡°The pay will go to designated heirs if someone falls in our service, but any wound short of death can be healed. At our expense of course.¡±


    I did ask a few more questions and made some requests. Like pictures of her world, and their enemy. But she wasn''t that helpful.


    All in all, I would say if you¡¯re desperate, and trained, this might not be a bad deal.


    For me, I wasn''t sure. Six months in a fantasy world might do a lot to help me prepare if I ever do get Isekaied, or whatever you call it when your world changes around you to a fantasy one.


    But¡­


    I like living in a world with flush toilets, dentists, and antibiotics. Seriously considering going to another world, for real, has given me a moment of clarity.


    No matter how much effort in preparing to be taken I''ve been doing, I don¡¯t want to go. I guess I¡¯m like a doomsday prepper that doesn''t want to see the world end, but just feels like it will and accepts it as something to prepare for.


    If anyone does sign up with White Tree, send me some pictures, and maybe we can do an interview.


    Addendum:


    Apocalypse. When your world changes all around you into some fantasy version where things are out to kill you, Apocalypse is the word I was looking for.


    I think I might want to start stocking up on stuff in my house in case that happens, not just collecting things I want to take with me.

 11) I’m making a list, and checking it… obsessively.

    11) I¡¯m making a list, and checking it¡­ obsessively.


    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    </a>


    Addendum:


    So yeah, forgot the little black triple AAA battery LED flashlight that goes in the bed bag, and in my pocket when I''m awake. Its light is a little wan, but it doesn''t have a bulb to burn out.


    Is Wan too obscure of a word to use nowadays? It means pale and weak and it seems to describe the sort of blueish light LEDs give out exactly. At least in comparison to someone who grew up with the yellowish light you get from incandescent bulbs.


    So atsmemum, made some suggestions in the comments that made me realize that everything I packed is either short term stuff, to keep me alive for the first day or so, or long term, to help me thrive in a new world.


    What I¡¯m a little short is stuff to keep me alive in the middle of nowhere for what might be weeks, months, or years.


    So:


    1) Two plastic pickle buckets with snap on lids for carrying stuff including water.


    2) On order, a stainless steel mess kit with a frying pan with a fold out handle, a deep sided plate the same size, a pot with a handle and a lid, and a plastic cup.


    I plan to replace the cup with something metal and will add a few carabiners to hold the pot above a fire and I''m sure there will be other uses for them.


    Might as well add a scrubber pad and a small bottle of dish soap as well.


    3) A coil of cotton string, and two fifty foot long coils of nylon rope.


    4) An axe head. No handle, I can attach something to it later on.


    5) A folding camp shovel with a pick on the back of the shovel head.


    6) A one-pound box of one and five eights inch drywall nails.


    At this point, the Oh Shit bag is about at the limit of what I can haul in and out of my car''s trunk let alone haul around in a wilderness. So adding anything else means something else has to come out.

 12) Imogene

    12) Imogene


    She was waiting for me when I got home.


    ¡°Great, another visitor. How are they getting my address?¡±


    The ride share guy, Glenn, asked me if I wanted him to keep driving, but I was too worried about the underaged girl dressed up in cosplay sitting on my front porch. "No, I''m good."


    The girl sat up as I got out of the car. Writhing her hands together in front of her in nervousness.


    She looked to be barely over five foot in height and with the skinny build of a young woman who hadn''t filled out yet. Dark blond hair braided back to keep it out of her eyes looked a little Asian around her eyes and the shape of her face.


    Her clothes were mainly in shades of green, and almost Robin Hood like, but real looking rather than like something from the older movies.


    As she stood, the tall metal staff with dozens of various colored gems, and rune like marks engraved in it floated from where it had been leaning next to my door to hover by her side until she gave it a distracted wave to send it back to float behind her made me begin to realize that she wasn''t dressed in cosplay.


    I stopped about ten feet from her and regarded her in silence, letting her decide how to start the conversation.


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I wasn¡¯t able to master dimensional magic well enough to get here until many years after our mother had died of age. She missed you terribly and asked me to send you her love.¡±


    As I dropped my bag, I realized she had turned her eyes to the ground and braced herself for me to¡­ Yell, scream, hit her? Whatever she expected the sound of my bag hitting the ground made her flinch.


    It was too much, I think I said something to her like, ¡°Wait here.¡± Then I turned and walked away.


    The sun was setting by the time I had come back to myself.


    I realized I was sitting on the banks of a creek that ran through a gully a half mile or so from my house. Looking around, I saw the girl sitting a bit up the side of the gully.


    The girl, my sister, appeared to have not listened to my instruction to wait. Well, at least she was like Mom in that, but she had also brought along my bag which she was holding in her arms in front of her, looking as lost as I felt.


    ¡°I have questions.¡±


    She looked up, and for a moment she looked hopeful before she made her face look blank.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Why is she here? If her world moves so fast that Mom died of old age in just two months, my sister has to be losing years just to talk to me.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name.¡±


    She blushed a little and reached up to check on her hair. ¡°Imogene. Imogene Hy Brenner.¡±


    I nodded at her. ¡°My, our, grandmother¡¯s name. How long did Mom last.¡±


    ¡°One hundred and eight years, but ours are shorter, I think she was a hundred and thirty two in Earth years when she let herself pass.¡±


    I teased out Mom¡¯s story from her in short, shy sentences.


    Imogene''s world, The Endless Realm, has dozens of races, none of them human, but healers were a rarity that was called into the service of the churches as soon as they were born. Bringing an adult healer with a deep distrust of religion had been the goal of the ritual which pulled my Mom to their world.


    As none of the races there could have children with each other, Imogene was a surprise to everyone involved.


    She seemed pretty sad as she mentioned that, I decided she needed a break, and my butt was getting cold sitting on the damp ground. Besides, the polluted creek didn''t smell all that great either.


    ¡°Let¡¯s head back to the house.¡±


    It was a bit of a struggle to get my bag back from her, when I did she clutched onto her staff instead. Had it floated behind her all the way out here as she followed me in my daze?


    She froze up at the end of the front walk to the house for a moment, when I looked back to give her a raised eyebrow, she looked down suddenly. "There wasn''t anything there for me after Mom passed. Me¡­ just me existing upset them."


    I walked over as she looked up in fright, and hugged her hard enough to make her let out an "Ouff" sound. Damn, there was nothing to her, and unlike the Psudo Elves of White Tree she felt was putting out some heat. I guess her father''s kind ran hot, which meant sitting on the cold ground on the side of the gully could not have been all that much fun for her.


    ¡°You¡¯re home Imogene. You¡¯re with family.¡±


    As I held the silently crying girl clutching desperately to me, I got what I could only call a suspicious look from the metal staff pinned between us.


    Yeah. I don¡¯t know for sure If this girl is for real or playing a con on me. I almost hope this is some sort of game she¡¯s playing since that would mean my Mom might still be alive. That I may see her again someday.


    But if she is for real, then she is all alone in two worlds, the child of my mother. She is family and this is her home.


    Patting her back, I twisted myself free and awkwardly walked her inside the house. Sitting her down on the couch, I sat next to her, squirmed a bit as she leaned into me clutched onto my arm, and dialed up the local pizza place. "You don''t have dietary issues, do you? Meat, cheese, tomato sauce."


    She shook her head and spoke so softly I could barely hear her. "I''ve never had a problem with anything."


    Feeding her seemed to bring her around into the chattiness I would expect of a girl her age, except her age was nearly twice mine.


    She looked smug when I mentioned that. "I guess that makes me the older sister."


    I grimaced and then smirked. "But in Earth years you''re only two months old. I''m sure I can find some diapers for you."


    She scrunched down in her chair in order to reach me with her foot to kick me under the table.


    Brat. ¡°Act your age.¡±


    She stuck her tongue out at me.


    We talked for a while, but between a big meal, crossing over from another universe, and going through an emotional wringer, she was ready to conk out.


    I insisted she take my room, but by the time I got back from putting clean sheets on it, she was passed out on the couch.


    The staff followed along closely behind me as I carried her to bed, took off her boots, and loosened up her belt before pulling the sheet over her. Then it stretched out beside her on the bed.


    I would have given her Mom¡¯s room, but it would need to be cleaned out.


    For the life of me, I don¡¯t know if I should clear out all of Mom¡¯s stuff that would remind her that our Mother was gone, or have her help me so the girl could look at each and everything that had belonged to Mom.


    Looking into my Mom¡¯s room, I was reminded that I hadn¡¯t touched the place in months. Even before she was taken, I had left the place to gather dust after she went into the hospital for the last time.


    For the moment, I think I was just going to sit on the edge of her bed and not think for a while, at least until I let my hind brain process things for a bit and I was ready to sort out my thoughts on the blog.


    I¡¯m not ready to say goodbye.

 13) Hired gun

    13) Hired gun.


    I had Imogene help me pack up Mom¡¯s stuff.


    Some of it would be going to Mom¡¯s cousin and some to her friends, after little Imo, a name I was waiting to spring on my sister, has taken what she wanted, and what I was setting aside for her since I felt that Mom would have wanted her to have it.


    I set aside a few things for me. For the memories more than a practical need. A scarf, a fancy bookmark. The rest will be going to a sale at a shelter for battered women. They helped us once upon a time.


    For right now I¡¯m going to be taking a break from doing interviews, instead I¡¯m going to share someone else¡¯s story.


    Confessions of an Otherworld Mercenary.


    I''m not going to tell you my name since I don''t want my Ex trying to get a cut of pay, or trying to take my land, but you can call me Sarge.


    ( Sarge goes on a bit of tangent here questioning why his ex-wife, a person capable of working and supporting herself is allowed to get to live entirely off of the alimony he has to pay her two years after their marriage ended rather than earning a living on her own efforts.)


    I don¡¯t blame her for kicking me to the curb. After I lost my leg in Afghanistan, I got mean.


    She got the kids, the house, and the car, and I got to keep my disability money, and half my pension.


    So, when I read your post about White Forrest, well, getting my leg back sounded good. Getting to put a hurt on some people while getting paid sounded even better. Therapeutic even.


    The hundred thousand¡­ Well, that would let me get some sort of life back.


    I called the number on White Forrest¡¯s website, and an actual living breathing person picked up. No machine, no push button maze, just a real live human being, or a reasonable stand in.


    She took my information, and less than an hour later another woman called me back to arrange for me to fly out to South Dakota that very same day.


    I was surprised. ¡°Moving kind of quick here aren''t we?¡±


    ¡°Yes Sarge, here in this place we are. Days here are weeks there.¡±


    I packed a bag. Plenty of socks and undies. My grandfather¡¯s trench knife. Photos of my kids.


    A short flight later I was at an airport where I joined a mixed group of dozens of old soldiers, young kids just out of high school, some guys that looked like ex-cons, and some refugees who wanted to get their families out of people¡¯s community centers.


    Mostly men, or boys, but a good solid ten percent women, some of them with kids.


    A rather nice looking bus took up to a brand new looking steel warehouse in the middle of a cornfield. Inside was something that looked like a psychedelic Stonehenge. Big blocks of aged stone with spirals painted on them the size of storage containers half buried in the dirt.


    We got shuffled off to one side and handed some big ruck bags. A dark skinned woman with yellow eyes, a little bitty thing but she handled the sixty plus bag with ease, told me, "Check the sizes, and try on the boots, we got a replacement for them on this side if they don¡¯t fit.¡±


    I''m not sure where they got my sizes from, but while the shoes fit, everything else had an awkward fit, either too tight or too loose. I mentioned it to the dark girl, who flicked out a ribbon like forked blue tongue at me. "They will fit after you get invigorated. Just wear your old pants for now."


    About a half hour later, the stones began to make a sound I can only call singing, and the space inside, about eighty feet across, filled up with a bunch of people in a mix of civilian looking clothes and worn out looking uniforms.


    Most of them looked either drunk, or hungover, but each and every one of them looked healthy.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Not necessarily young, not happy, but healthy and fit.


    Then a few of the tall pale women who seemed to be in charge began to herd them out of the stone ring and off to the other side of the warehouse.


    One guy turned around and yelled at my group, "Cut open the chest of the beasts, get the stones out, and make sure you get top dollar for them, the Blankos will try to cheat you on them!"


    By Blankos, I guessed they meant the tall pale women rolling their eyes at him. I didn¡¯t think having a name for our employers like Blanko was a good sign. But it wasn¡¯t like I was ever that trusting of officers or REMFs anyways.


    At least most of the batch from last week''s hired guns seemed to have come back.


    With about a dozen finely carved coffins being carried off to the side as well. And that was just for the ones they recovered and brought back.


    Well, I didn¡¯t think I was signing up to be a mall cop.


    The few parents said their goodbyes to their often weeping kids who the Elfs here would be taking care of for six days, then we all go herded into the circle.


    The singing of the stones from inside the circle turned out to sound more like an ear piercing scream before the world outside the ring of stones blurred and became somewhere else.


    I''m sure you can find pictures of the city, the immense white trees higher than skyscrapers with buildings going up the trunks. The colors and the little butterfly people. But I didn¡¯t get much of a chance to see the big city.


    We were getting magic stone circled right out to our training base. Ft Mordor.


    The first thing I did once was got there was to follow my orders to stuff myself silly with some odd tasting barbecued bird. Battlehawk I was told. I would see, and kill several of those later on, but right at that moment, all I knew was that I cutting some of the dark meat slathered with Open Pitt off of a drumstick bone the size of a baseball bat.


    Then I was chugging down glass after glass of some kind of fortified milk with a texture of too much undissolved drink mix in it.


    All of this was to prepare me for a three day nap on one of a few dozen stone tables sitting underneath a merely six hundred foot tall white tree planted inside the former ¡°Orc¡± stronghold.


    A mere eighty year old sapling I was told.


    When I woke up, I was coated in a foul smelling dried crust of everything bad I had stuffed down my throat over the years. And I had my leg back.


    It was pale and weak looking, but I was back to walking on my own two feet, at least after I got back to my feet after taking a nosedive after jumping to my feet for the first time.


    I also had all my teeth back, along with a piece of me that got cut off shortly after I was born.


    That took more getting used to than having my leg back, but I think I''m going to live with it rather than let someone go down there with a knife.


    Basic training was basic. No marching, no saluting, just learning how to shoot, how to take cover, and who to shoot at.


    They trusted the veterans like me to help the virgins figure out the rest of it in the field.


    I had a pretty good crew. Having Mama Sita in our group made the kids behave and listen. She was a good woman and deserved better than a ride home in an enchanted coffin.


    The Elfs didn¡¯t make those for us out of kindness, they didn¡¯t want our corpses polluting their lands.


    Yeah, the Blankos didn¡¯t like us, or respect us very much. They could make the gems they traded for cash to pay us with, so we were cheap migrant labor. Good enough to do the work they didn¡¯t want to do, but not good enough to stay. But they did keep their promises.


    The setup here was there were two sets of so called gods left who were the last ones standing from their proxy war using the Elfs and Orcs as their toy soldiers. The other races were the leftovers from Gods who had been knocked out of the game after their races got beat.


    But while bringing in humans didn''t break the rules, the goddess Lyra who was the chief referee ruled that there had to be a balance of power.


    The Lizard boys the Orc got to bring in used Air guns which didn''t pack too much of impact, but we couldn''t hear them shooting. And their skins changed colors to match their surroundings, not Predator level, but just really good camouflage.


    Fortunately, Riels, a member of the same dark skinned race, the Niebs, as the gal who hooked me up with a good set of boots, filled me in on how it worked to be a mercenary.


    ¡°You shoot at the other side, yes, but you don¡¯t always try to hit them, just keep them over there where they belongs. We¡¯re here to fight, both sides, not to die, and not to kill. We wins by putting the other guys in such a bad spot they have to run.¡±


    "But always go for the kill shot on their leaders, the fanged ones, Orcs, once the leaders are dead, the Grunts as you call them are more than happy to run away."


    Really, for a conflict with live ammunition, it was all quite civilized. Still, with bullets flying, some people died.


    Mama Sita. Sita Gupta got torn apart by a war beast when we didn''t run away fast enough. I got its rider and a grenade and took out the furry rhino looking beast. I stuck around long enough to cut the green gem out of its chest.


    It kind of called to me.


    During our downtime on leave, I paid a Nieb Seer and found out I had a talent for nature magic, which the heart stone I picked up was attuned to, like a lot of Orc Warbeast heart stones. I picked up several more of them to pay for some lessons, but the one from the beast that killed Mama Sita was the strongest.


    Normally the Elfs don¡¯t let you take such things home with you, claiming they need it for the war effort, but I hid it in Sita¡¯s coffin.


    They don¡¯t like touching live human bodies, they weren''t going anywhere near a dead one.


    Sita came to America to get away from her two kid¡¯s father, an abusive asshole, so I kept a promise I had made to her and took them in myself, a good chunk of my paycheck went to fixing their paperwork to make that happen.


    But like I said, making gems was easy for the Elfs, and there was plenty of room in the coffin.


    Sita¡¯s remains went into the ground on my new homestead, and I named the spirit that rose from the stone inside it Gupta, which means governor or something like that.


    I''m still learning Hindu so the kids don¡¯t forget how to speak it, and magic. Chandra has the same nature affinity as me, while little Ravi doesn''t have any affinity that I can figure out, but he hopes to go to war against the Orcs one day when he grows up.


    The kid wants some payback. I can respect that. I can also respect him if he honors her memory by living a good life instead.


    From what I saw, the war over there will still be going on, so I will prepare him in case he doesn''t change his mind.


    Who knows, by the time he¡¯s old enough to go over there, I might be ready for another three day lie down and join him.

 14) Nailed it.

    14) Nailed it.


    My sister knocked on the door frame of my room where I was on the computer. I had gotten my room back after we set up Mom¡¯s old room for her. Imogene had passed on my offer to paint the walls a new color or put in new carpeting, but we did get a new mattress and bedding.


    We also got her some new clothes and stuff, and she messed with me pretending not to understand about bras and making me explain them. Then she thought I was messing with her as payback when I started asking her about her needs for her periods. One of the first spells Mom had taught her dealt with that.


    At my door, her staff was humming with an angry tone and spinning in little jerking motions from right to left and back again as it floated next to her.


    She grabbed it and gave it a stern look. ¡°I¡¯m going out.¡±


    I started to get up and grabbed a nearly clean set of pants off the ground to change into, but she held up her hand. ¡°Alone.¡±


    He¡¯s father race were a bunch of tiny little people, at five foot two, she was as tall as their men, which meant that up to now going out alone around a bunch of six foot guys had been making her too nervous to go out alone.


    Especially when they hit on her, although she seemed pretty smug about it afterwards.


    I had to explain what I meant by them having a hobbit fetish. Then she had smacked me.


    Then there was the whole being in a new world thing keeping her at home. Luckily once we drove somewhere she could go back there directly by what she called a ¡°Shortcut¡± that looked like a Starship going into hyperspace.


    I didn¡¯t like it the few times she took me with her, it made me dizzy. She said it had done the same thing to Mom too, it must just not be human friendly.


    After giving Imogene a long look, which made her look away, I finally asked. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    She hemmed and she hawed, but I finally got out it of her. ¡°There¡¯s been an incursion.¡±


    Things had started to arrive in our world, and she had been part of a group in hers that she translated as "The Night Guard" as part of the price of her training in dimensional magic.


    From the other side of the door to my room, as I got dressed, she explained that there was no one else around here to deal with things other than her, and she had sworn an oath.


    And that she didn¡¯t need me to come with her.


    Ignoring her complaints, I just finished changing my clothes and got the guns out of the Go bags.


    I might need to put some body armor in the big bag too, but at this rate, it was going to end up being the ¡°Oh Shit¡± bags, plural.


    A long dark trench coat concealed the shotgun slung along under my arm. The Thunderer went on my belt in its holster, and the .38 went in one pocket of the coat with the extra ammo in the other one.


    I opened the door, and despite her complaints, I think my sister looked relieved to see me ready and determined to go. "Any clue what we''re dealing with?"


    She winced. ¡°Fairies.¡±


    I stared at her, then dug the iron nail ring out of my pocket and slipped it on my right middle finger.


    So from what she began to tell me, Fairy was a place that was not a place, but a place between other places made up out of places that had been lost, or stolen.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Makes sense? Not to me either, but what I picked up was that everything from Fairy was insane and dangerous.


    And they didn¡¯t like iron, the more pure it was the better. There was just something real about it that they hurt them.


    I thought about making a quick stop in the kitchen. I had never liked using grandma''s cast iron pan, not cleaning it always seemed nasty, but I had to keep it around on a back shelf anyway.


    Oh man, did I just Chekov''s gun myself? I better move it somewhere more handy


    I ended up leaving it at home since I decided that I was already carrying too much already.


    She lifted her staff, and circles of light filled with weird looking symbols began to appear around us, and then spin. "I have a visual of the Incursion, we will be coming in fairly close.¡±


    Everything around us squeezed up tight, and I shut my eyes as the dizziness hit, then there were the sounds of screams and gunshots.


    Snapping my eyes open, I found myself standing on the edge of the field and looking at a two story white wooden farmhouse covered with creepy thing gray skinned¡­ things. The number of their limbs, and eyes varied, but mouths full of sharp teeth and the eerie wheezing sounds they were making seemed standard for all of them.


    An older man and two younger ones stood on the front porch with pistols and rifles and were shooting out at the ones still scurrying around the house while an older woman was standing in the open front doorway with a shotgun. They looked to be holding the things off, but some of them had climbed over the top of the house and were closing in on them from above.


    I pointed at the gray things and glanced at Imogene who was twisting her fingers around in the air while her staff circled around her in the air, seeming to be on guard. "Bad guys?"


    She nodded sharply without even looking up. ¡°Neatherlings. Very bad guys.¡±


    Shouting, I began walking toward the house, freeing up the shotgun and pointing in the air up above the homeowners, ¡°Up high, five of them.¡± I held off on shooting since it would be kind of at them, and I didn''t want to shoot up their house.


    The Neatherling blood was a rather thin blue color that looked like would stain the clothes of the three men shooting up at them. I still held off on shooting since it looked like they had it but instead looked back at Imogene for anything moving up on her.


    I¡¯m pretty sure her staff could handle things, but I wasn¡¯t here to play hero, I was here to look out for my sister.


    Meanwhile, Imogene finished her spell, and well¡­ Dimensional magic is a bad way to die.


    The space the Neatherling were in stretched, and they stretched along with it, in a way that wasn¡¯t healthy.


    As she relaxed her hand, the tapered off bits of them fell to the ground.


    Imogene looked around, ¡°There¡¯s still something here. Something powerful enough to press down on the fabric of real, a lot more than a Neatherling would.¡±


    She began to walk hesitantly towards the barn, seeing where she was headed, one of the men shouted, ¡°Beth! Beth was in the barn!¡±


    They beat us there, but then we weren''t in a hurry, or at least I wasn¡¯t. And little Imo was all tuckered out, and she had short little legs. I had mentioned them to her before, she tried to hit me, but she couldn¡¯t catch me with those little Hobbit legs.


    The girl, Beth, had herself a Fairy prince in the barn lying exhausted in the hay behind her. Black velvet looking clothing embroidered with silver stitching covered up his thin body. He had pale skin, but pale in an interesting way rather than looking unhealthy. All that with a set of long sharp tipped ears and deep green eyes shaded by his dark curly hair hanging down loose past his shoulders.


    The girl was kind of pudgy in a ready for a growth spurt kind of way, and her freckled nose was sort of sunburned.


    She was standing in front of the elf with her arm out to block everyone. "Stop Dad, he needs our help. Those things were after him."


    The father, and what I guessed were the Grandparents looked from the girl to the elf boy, while the other guy that had been with them was looking at me and my sister standing over at the door to the barn.


    He lifted his hand and then waved it over at the girl and the elf in an ¡°Explain?¡± gesture.


    I nodded at him and shouldered my shotgun by its strap. "Federal Immigration Commission of Investigation. Private contractors. We''ll take him from here."


    Who knows, maybe that¡¯s what FICA is and what they¡¯re doing with the money that comes out of our paychecks.


    Walking past the family, and the girl protesting that she needed to help ¡°Gloren¡±, I let her father pull her aside and reached out my hand to help Elf boy up. "Come with me if you want to live."


    That would be the hand with the nearly pure iron ring on it. I had seen the bite marks on the girl''s neck, and the traces of blood on Gloren''s lips.


    He screamed as I yanked him to his feet. And turned into something else.


    I guess it was still kind of frog prince like in a way, but it wasn''t a nice combination of frog and prince. It looked like just being alive like that would be a world of pain.


    The girl also screamed, I let out what I to this day still maintain was a manly shout, and other people yelled.


    And as he opened his mouth to bite me with the two fangs that snapped out with beads of something dark on the tips, Imogene did something that squeezed him into a basketball sized orb with the sound of snapping bones just before he clamped down on my arm.


    She began to float the ball out of the barn as the old woman comforted the girl, and the men gave me questioning looks.


    I shrugged. ¡°Special training. Firestarter program.¡±


    Then I followed her outside.


    Over the next few hours, I helped the old guy and his two sons, along with the "Name I won''t mention so no one gets in trouble" Sheriff''s department collect and pile up the Neatherling bodies and soak them in kerosene before burning them out by the mulch pile.


    The Sheriff was the old guy¡¯s cousin. He wasn¡¯t too worried about writing anything down.


    ¡°Gloran¡± got tossed in on top. He went up with some pretty purple flames and a rather nasty pungent smell.


    Then me and my sister went home, and as she washed up I ordered a couple of pizzas, something my deadly little sister had become ridiculously fond of. Even if she does want all veggies on hers.


    She is fine with dairy, fish, and birds, but cows and pigs are too cute looking to her to want to eat. I didn''t bother to tell her about anchovies since I don''t want that evilness in my house.


    I can afford two pizzas, and it¡¯s not like we won¡¯t finish off the leftovers.


    That was the first time.

 15) Incursions

    15) Incursions


    It wasn¡¯t always a horror show.


    But mainly it was incursions from Fairy, the nature of the place meant it was ¡°Right next door.¡± to just about anywhere.


    I was able to hook up a group of freaked out blueish green colored goblins hiding out in some storm drains below Las Vegas with the Goblin King of Mirkwood. After getting Imogene calmed down enough to not to twist space around them into Klien bottles.


    King Ernie had given me his number when we had done his interview and after I got him on the line and explained things to him, I held the phone and he shouted at the other guys in what turned out to be the same language they spoke despite coming from different worlds.


    He then told me that he and his people were now living in an old played out mine with an abandoned town nearby. By sending me some pictures and having his Shaman do something Imogene called a mana spike, she was able to take the two of us along with the twenty some odd lost goblins to what the King was using as a training center in the town.


    The people he was working with, and who were learning from his tribe, had a military feel to them and weren''t happy about us magicking our way past their security.


    King Ernie just grinned at them, "I know, it''s a shame someone knows what happened to us, and is in regular contact. It makes it mighty hard for us to disappear after you have learned everything we have to teach. Why it''s almost like Brenner here is just one of several insurance policies I set up."


    Regardless of what was going on here with that, Ernie''s tribe looked well fed, were dressed in new looking clothing and he gave me and Imogene a tour of his people''s new home where they were even digging out some small left behind copper deposits.


    It seemed like they were doing well, and they even had some official looking work visas.


    He also seemed pretty happy with their pay.


    We agreed to weekly calls for the foreseeable future to remind the people he worked for that the goblins weren''t their dirty little secret. They had friends.


    Then there was the little Viking biker looking guy who got pretty pissed when I called them Dwarves. Their leader who had some sort of translation magic told all the other ones about it.


    At least he didn''t tell me he wasn''t happy, I don''t know if I could hold back from finishing the joke.


    Who knee mining implements could look so lethal?


    Lethal enough for me to whisper to Imogne "Get ready to go Klien on their butts.¡±


    She frowned at me. ¡°They¡¯re just lost Jim.¡±


    Oh sure, screaming little green men with hooked knives in a damp dimly lit storm drain and she already to bend space and break bones, but little hairy guys and she all, no problem here.


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Hobbit girl.


    She was able to read their ¡°Signature¡± and after warning them that a few weeks had gone by in their world she was able to send them back.


    Other incursions, weren''t so nice.


    I don¡¯t think the greyhound sized dragon, dog not bus, meant any harm. It may have just been lost and scared, but it burned one of the kids who found it badly enough that the kid didn¡¯t survive.


    The dragon didn¡¯t either, a load of buckshot to the chest from two feet away would do that, but Imogene still sent its remains home for its family to find.


    Other things just needed killing. I needed the Goblin King''s shaman to patch me up a few times. But Imogene¡¯s back was guarded. Even her staff seemed to soften up on me a little.


    It loomed at me less.


    After doing this for a few weeks, Agent Teresa Adams showed up again.


    ¡°Hi Mr Brenner, nice to see you again, but I¡¯m not here for you.¡±


    The government had a job offer for my sister.


    The same thing the two of us had been doing, but with an entire team backing her up. Imogene would, to an extent Adams told her, be in charge of field operations.


    "You''re the only one around with experience at doing this on an organized level. At least according to what your brother wrote."


    Imogene glanced at me for a moment, then looked down at the ground while the staff lowered itself down until it touched the floor on the other end of the couch as if it didn''t want to be involved in the next conversation


    I could tell she wanted this, she had a need to belong, to be accepted. More than what an older brother she hadn''t grown up with could offer her.


    She wanted to step up and help, even if that meant it wouldn''t just be me and her anymore.


    ¡°What sort of pay are you offering her? Benefits? And before anything else, she''s going to need full, solid, no ambiguity, American citizenship, and written law enforcement powers. Our Mom was American if that helps."


    Imogene wanted them to hire me too, but¡­ "I don''t have the skills Imo, not really, and we both already know I can''t learn magic the way some other people can. Besides, I got a job. Telling people what they need to know about what happening. I can''t do that if I have to sign some sort of non-disclosure agreement."


    I looked at Agent Adams over Imogene¡¯s head, Adams nodded to confirm that for me.


    They gave her a whole team to watch her back. Professionals, including people who had been trained by Goblin King¡¯s people and graduates from the Foundation''s basic magic classes.


    All former military or federal agents, often both.


    My sister still comes home most nights, often too exhausted to say much, but seldom hurt. They are either taking good care of her, or she''s getting healed up on the nights she doesn''t come back to keep me from worrying. She says that the apartment they gave her was pretty nice, but she still wants to come home whenever she can.


    The Staff will find me, and bring me to her if she needs me, or if something happens to her.


    But as for fighting evil from another dimension, it seems like I¡¯m retired.


    Addendum:


    Sorry, Special Agent Teresa Adams. Let me say this again, Congratulations Special Agent.


    She had corrected me on that when I got home one night and found her, Imogene, and a couple of seriously buff looking gals she and my sister work with having a Lord of the Rings movie marathon on my new TV in the living room.


    They don''t have a big screen at their secret base?


    The two girls in the living room and a pale goth woman who came out of the kitchen with our mixing bowl filled with popcorn all made a point to say "Hi Jim." all together then looked up at Agent Adams, sorry, Special Agent Adams, who blushed while Imogene elbowed her.


    I blinked a few times, "Don''t know. Ain''t asking. Tired. Going to bed.


    There was some giggling from behind me as I headed down the hall to my room, but they turned down the sound on the movies and kept things down to a low roar so I could get to sleep.


    While clipping the overnight bag to the dog collar around my ankle, I took a look at myself in the mirror on the closet door.


    Dieting, exercise, and training had taken off a lot of the flab and put on some muscle. I even had some abs.


    It was nice to know my hard work was appreciated.


    And I did tease Imogene about watching the movies just for the cute hobbit boys. She just shook her head at me and huffed. ¡°I don¡¯t go for boys. But that Gandalf¡­ that man can really carry off a pointy hat. Nice staff too. All wood. Very old school.¡±


    Good, she''s teasing back rather than just getting upset and trying to hit me. My efforts to be a mean older brother are paying off


    I wonder if I can the Special Agent''s number from her.

 16) System Apocalypse

    Ttaa 16) System Apocalypse


    System day came.


    I know that everyone knows what happened that day. After all, everyone, other the Imogene and other people born or reborn on other worlds, heard the initial message, which was the same for everyone, and then we all got our classes.


    And then¡­ Nothing. No more messages, no stats sheet that defined us as ability scores, and no class abilities.


    Nothing.


    But my day went a little different.


    I got the other messages. Still not sure why.


    Maybe I got more fans than I think.


    [ Attention people of Earth ]


    I didn¡¯t question the fact that words in a blue box were floating in the air above my face, I just rolled out of bed, nearly killed myself tripping on the ankle bag, then reached up from the floor to slip the Ready2go bag¡¯s shoulder strap from the back of my ¡°putting on my shoes¡± chair and over my head.


    Questions ran through my head. Do I get dressed first or just grab the Oh Shit bag? How much time do I have? "Imogene! Wake up, it''s time!"


    [ You have been graced with becoming participants in the Grand Tourney ]


    I got to my feet and began to pile my boots and clothes from the night before on top of the big Duffel bag before lifting it in front of me and clutching it to my chest with both arms. I had sweats and a tee shirt on, it would have to do for now.


    [ Over the next few days all of you will go through the tutorial ]


    My sister opened my bedroom door, yawning as she stood there in her loose knit short bike pants and one of our mom¡¯s oversized sleeping tee shirts, which had been big on Mom but was huge on Imogene.


    [ Then the fight for your survival begins ]


    [ Fight! Level! Survive! ]


    She stared at me in confusion, and then her eyes went wide. "Wha¡­ What happening? Wait, don''t go, let me get the ring!"


    Then she ran off towards her room.


    Ring?


    [ Class granted ]


    [ Prophet of the Age Unique Class obtained ]


    [ Lifetime achievements calculated ]


    [ Title granted: Forlorn ]


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    [ Title granted: Goblin friend ]


    [ Title granted: Dragon Slayer]


    [ Title granted: Defender of the Breach ]


    [ Title granted: Hero¡¯s First Mentor ]


    Wait, doesn''t the Mentor normally buy it in the second act?


    [ Extra worldly victories detected ]


    [ Level 2 granted ]


    [ Level 3 granted ]


    [ Level 4 granted ]


    [ Level 5 gra---


    -{No.}-


    Why is that one red?


    Imogene ran back into my room with our Mom''s high school graduation ring in her hands, both of which she had held out in front of her as if she was going to shove the ring at me. Instead, she slowed to a stop and tilted her head to the side while looking at me with a bemused look. "Huh? Whatever, take this. Rub the stone to access everything inside."


    [...what? Who? ]


    -{ The one thing my Champion asked was that his mother and sister would be taken care of. }-


    -{ And you... you... little insufferable construct are going to put them in a sick death game?}-


    -{ Break my Word to the one who gave everything? Make me an Oathbreaker? }-


    -{ Not. Going. To. Happen. }-


    -{ Horrid thing }-


    \\\ You tell him. I own some people on this world as well, and I got your back Sister ///


    And now a Gray box.


    -{ Thank you. But I do not need anyone¡¯s help. }-


    [ What is happening? Who are you? What are you? ]


    Imogene pressed the ring into my hands as I stared at the various floating boxes filled with words that appeared in front of my eyes. She closed my hands shut over the ring and then started doing something with circles of light around me and her eyes.


    -{ I am one who is above you. }-


    -{ And this world is more than your plaything }-


    -{Mote }-


    [ By what right do you have to stop me? ]


    -{You little¡­ Fine. Let¡¯s discuss this in person. See you soon}-


    OO Kick it¡¯s ass OO


    \\\ You go girl ///


    [ What? No. You can¡¯t be here! How is there even---


    (: This is going to be the most epic beatdown I have seen this age. :)


    And that was it.


    Looking over at Imogene, I asked her, ¡°Does the term Prophet of the Age mean anything to you.¡±


    She slowly shook her head. ¡°What just happened?¡±


    "I think someone, or something, just got to find out what it''s like when someone overwhelming powerful decides to mess with you. And I can''t think of anyone who deserved it more than it."


    Addendum:


    So after I calmed down, showered, and got dressed, the two of us sat down to eat and Imogene explained the ring.


    Someone had asked her if she had an inventory space since she did dimension magic.


    After they explained what that was, and my sister did some research, she decided to make one.


    Imogene wanted me to note that she did a lot more than read some Lit RPG books or research video games, she got into some advanced math at a level I couldn''t even keep track of what she had read through or what all of it was called.


    Which is why it took her a couple of weeks to create what amounts to a pocket universe accessible through Mom''s Amethyst stone set in her high school class ring.


    White gold by the way. Because of some book she read once.


    The space was only about twice the size of a steamer trunk on the inside, and it''s a one to one time ratio with wherever the ring is, but she filled it up with things she thought I might need.


    Soap for one, and a comb with some safety razors.


    It¡¯s nice to know my sister sets such standards for me looking good.


    She also duplicated some of the stuff in my Ready2go bag and the Oh Shit bag and put absolutely nothing from her secret government job that civilians shouldn''t have. No sir, not a single thing.


    The ring was a little too small to fit on any of my fingers, so I put it on a chain around my neck.


    When I, and only I or Imogene, touch the gem, it somehow puts the knowledge of everything inside of it into my head. Then I can just mentally pull at the things and they appear in a twisting shimmer of white light between me and the ring.


    It''s a bit of a trick to grab it before it starts to fall.


    Best sister ever, even if the ones she says she is going to anchor to her staff are going to be what she called full sized instead of the tiny prototype she gave me.


    Still, thanks Little Imo.

 17] Looking for Group?

    17] Looking for Group?


    I''m not going to tell you where they met, other than it was in the basement of a repurposed church.


    I¡¯m not going to give you their real names, although you can probably find out Neal¡¯s real name. He only recently got the amulet that lets him look human again, but after he made his way home he left his house a few times and the police detained him.


    The local news covered it, but so many things like that are happening these days that it didn''t make the national news. Either that or most people don''t want to hear it so they can pretend things are still normal.


    Things were never normal, it¡¯s just now that it¡¯s more obvious.


    The group met on the Brody Foundation forums, and when they found out Brother Jude was in the same area as several of them, or at least close enough to get there by one way or another, they decided to meet up.


    Jude was the one who suggested inviting me. Not only because Imogene could drop me off so I didn¡¯t have to pay for a ticket, but because he thought others could be inspired to start groups like this themselves.


    A Returned Support Group.


    I protested that, ¡°I¡¯m not a Returnee.¡±


    Brother Jude sighed at me over the phone, "You lost your Mom, and gained a sister. It''s close enough, besides, I think it would help if people heard our stories, and it might help us to tell them."


    I reached the address I was given and made my way downstairs. Jude told me there would be donuts and coffee, but I brought a jug of cider to share since I found out I didn''t actually like coffee once I stopped putting in eight pumps of flavored creamer.


    Who knew?


    I nodded at the kid carefully eating a powdered jelly as his eyes lit up on seeing me set the cider on the table and poured some into his hastily grabbed mug.


    Then Jude called us over to start the meeting. I snagged one of those donuts they cover with nuts.


    It turned out to be maple flavored, and it had been a long time since I allowed myself anything that nice. All by itself it made the trip worth it.


    The kid¡¯s folding chair gave out a metallic complaint as he carefully sat down. Even with him leaning forward to keep some of his weight on his feet.


    Jude looked around the room with a beaming smile. He was a middle aged man and was actually wearing a dark brown monk¡¯s robe with a light brown hooded mantle. It was belted with a braided green and white belt knotted around a large brass loop rather than a rope, and he had a full head of hair instead of the shaved bald spot.


    "We have a few new faces here today, including Jim Brenner of The Last Goodbye blog. He won''t be taking anyone''s picture or using anyone''s real name, so there is no need for anyone to worry."


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    "My name, for those who don''t know is, Jude, which makes me wonder now what name Jim will use for me."


    Jude. Patron saint of lost causes. But I was thinking more of the Jude from the Beatles song, it seemed like a good name for a therapist. Mom was a fan so I grew up listening to them.


    There was a murmur of several Hi Judes, and a few looks, some of them unhappy, shot my way.


    ¡°I got pulled to another world because a member of a group of adventures wished out loud they had a priest who could save their own healer who was injured badly enough to have knocked her unconscious.¡±


    ¡°They didn¡¯t know a ring they had found had a Djinn in it waiting for a chance to grant a wish to free itself, and that for some reason it decided to reach all the way to Earth to offer a lay brother with Paramedic training a chance to save someone¡¯s life.¡±


    Jude looked down at the floor for a moment before giving out a short laugh. ¡°I had been questioning my calling, wondering if I was just trying to hide away from the world.¡±


    ¡°When I got the offer, I realized I didn¡¯t want to hide away, I wanted to help others. That it was being in the service of others that I needed, not hiding away behind prayers."


    Leaning forward, he clasped his hands together. ¡°I saved Emilia with the healing powers being taken to that world gave me, and I saved many others over the years I was there. All twenty of them. But then someone in authority caught up with Jazeel, the Djinn who had brought me there and she was forced to send me back, a mere two years later, Earth time.¡±


    He shook his head. "I don''t know if I would have chosen to come back if given the choice. I had a life there. I had more to do." He grinned a little. "But even on this world, I can still help others. I just have to be sneaky about it since magical healing is only legal until it interferes with someone''s profits and they do something about that."


    Looking around at the group, he asked. ¡°So who would like to go next.¡±


    The boy hesitated, then pulled out a pendant on a thick silver colored chain from under his shirt. As he lifted it over his head he had to pull it to one side and then the other to clear the horns that became visible as he transformed from a young Hispanic man in jeans and a powdered sugar dusted hoodie, into a huge Minotaur.


    Bull¡¯s head, hooves, fur, the whole bit.


    His voice was deep enough that it was no wonder he hadn''t said anything to me earlier, the pendant must not hide his voice.


    ¡°My name is Neal, and I died.¡±


    I winced and said ¡°Hi Neal¡± like a few of the others.


    "I ended up in the body of a Taurick named Klerin after his soul got eaten by something unnatural. Whatever it was, it couldn''t touch my soul for some reason. Esben, a Kitsune sorcerer tried to explain it once, but I was freaking out too much still to pay attention.¡±


    He shrugged, and his chair groaned. "I finished Klerin''s mission and asked to go home as my reward. I was told I couldn''t go back to my body, so I had to take this one back with me, or jump into someone else''s."


    Clenching his hand together, and gritting his teeth, he continued. "It didn''t seem right to steal someone else body. I had met Klerin''s parents and they tried to convince me I was still him but possessed or confused. I didn¡¯t want to do that to someone else¡¯s graving family, and this body would have just dropped dead.¡±


    ¡°My little sister is still too scared of me to even come close. But my Dad was happy to get me back no matter what. My Mom¡­ she keeps telling me I should have come back as a human, like somehow if she keeps saying it I can go back and time and do it that way.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand her.¡±


    No one else felt like telling their stories, instead, they talked about how no one who hadn''t been taken could understand what it was like to spend years, even a lifetime somewhere else, as someone else, and then try to fit back into their old lives.


    Or worse, try to start a new life because the people from their old life were gone or didn''t want them, while people back where they had been taken would have been glad if they stayed.


    I could feel the hostility since I was taking in all their stories, and not giving anything back.


    So, ¡°My name is Jim. My mother was taken, and I¡¯m terrified that I will be too.¡±


    I got my own Hi Jims.


    ¡°At first I was afraid because I didn¡¯t think I was prepared, and being taken would just lead to me suffering and dying. Then as I got myself more and more ready, ready enough I was almost looking forward to it. To go somewhere, to have a chance to have something I didn''t think this world had for me anymore. A life, a future, maybe someday a family.


    ¡°Then, Imogene, my sister showed up.¡±


    ¡°And suddenly I realized I had something to lose and I¡¯m terrified again.¡±


    They didn''t have anything to say to help me. But saying it, putting it into words, and sharing, it helped somehow.


    Maybe that¡¯s why Mom started this blog. Maybe that¡¯s why I continued it.


    Addendum:


    Imogene reinforced the Short Cut she had made for me to go there, making it more or less permanent.


    This week I¡¯m bringing the apple cider jug filled up with sugar free lemonade. Cider and a doughnut is too much sugar for me in one evening if I want to keep the pounds off, even if Neal finished off the entire jug of cider before I got a second glass.

 18] Boys in the woods

    So I never did get off my butt and go camping to test out the wilderness survival skills I had watched on video. And people noticed me not mentioning it.


    People like Brother Jude.


    "Let''s take a weekend trip. I picked up a few things over the years, and I can teach you how to use, and make a sling."


    How could I turn down an offer like that?


    To my surprise, Jude''s car was a land boat, a big 1950''s style cream colored convertible with tail fins. And a teenaged boy sitting in the middle of that back seat that was actually a full grown Minotaur.


    Brother Jude nodded towards him. ¡°Neal needs some time away from his family. So I made him come.¡±


    Fine with me, the kid probably picked up a few things while he was on another world, and I don¡¯t have any cider for him to drink up on me this time.


    ¡°Nice car.¡±


    Jude smiled. "The healing magic I use works on objects as well as living things. I picked this beauty up for a few hundred dollars from a scrap yard. It still took me a few months to fix it up, and it eats gas like crazy, but transmutation is another one of the powers granted to me.¡±


    Heal the sick, transmute water to fuel¡­ I¡¯m wondering if he can walk on water too.


    But magic made gasoline? Sounds like something else that will suddenly become illegal like magical healing will be as soon as it starts costing someone money.


    It was an unusually nice early spring day, sunny, but not warm enough that I would have planned on taking a ride in a convertible with the top down. But I could tell Neal was enjoying the ride. He must normally not be able to sit upright in a regular car with his real size. Not to mention his horns which stretched up several inches higher.


    He even slipped off his amulet for a while, but some people started drifting out of their lanes as they saw him and stopped paying attention to the road, so he slipped it back on.


    I had brought a water bottle for the ride that should have taken us six hours, but two hours later we pulled off the highway and reached the national park only a few minutes later.


    More magic on the part of Brother Jude I guess, but I didn¡¯t see the need to ask. It was not like it was something he could teach me.


    So the first thing I learned, was that carrying the overstuffed large duffle bag I called the Oh Shit bag, as in "Oh Shit, I''m being kidnapped to another world," was a pain in the ass to carry around.


    Even with the shoulder strap, it was too heavy and too awkward.


    Neal took it from me eventually, and seeing the human illusion of him hefting it along thrown casually over his shoulder was a bit odd. ¡°We¡¯re a good half hour out Neal, I think you¡¯re safe to go Au Natural.¡±


    He thought it over, then removed the Amulet. He seemed happier, and the annoyance I had been feeling toward him seemed to vanish. Oh, the illusion was like the one the White Tree staff had, which is why it was bothering me.


    I should try to focus on that feeling on the trip back, maybe next time I¡¯ll know something¡¯s up.


    A few hours later we set up camp, Jude showed me how to set up a tarp with some lines and sharpened sticks for pegs to make a tent, while Neal used some bark stripped off of some tree branches he cut down to make a sort of twin to build a shelter from fallen sticks, and more branches cut from a pine tree for the roof and to put something between him and the ground.


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    Which is bad for the trees, but he was showing me how to make an emergency shelter. Something that might save my life someday. And it''s not like there was a shortage of trees around.


    Then we took a nature walk to collect dry wood, small stuff to start a fire with, and larger stuff to burn for cooking. Jude pointed out some edible plants and mushrooms but admitted he was cheating with some low level divination magic.


    We also set up a few snares.


    Neal made a fire pit and explained how to make sure it got air while keeping most of it out of sight from others.


    Let me say this, foraged food sucks. A few tins of salt are going into my Oh shit bag and the storage rings along with some pepper and garlic powder.


    There is surviving, and then there is living.


    Some of the plants we had gathered when burned or rubbed on your skin sort of kept the bugs away, but it was still a rough night with the buzz of mosquitoes'' wings around my ears, and all the itching in the morning.


    Wet wipes, going to need those and some calamine lotion.


    One of the snares caught a rabbit.


    Neal walked me through gutting and cleaning it, after snapping its neck, "Tomorrow you should do all of it yourself." Jude gave me some pointers on how to tan the skin, not that we tried it then and there.


    Then we were off for another hike, a short one this time to a river where Jude showed me how to make a fish trap out of reeds, and I got to try out the fishing line out of my survival knife¡¯s handle.


    Some people in canoes came down the river every now and then, and Neal put his amulet on after some girls gave him a few scared looks.


    In the afternoon, Jude showed me how to make a quick and cheap sling, and I got the hang of how to spin it and release a stone. ¡°That¡¯s what you need someone to help you learn, after this it¡¯s just practice to learn how to hit something you''re aiming at.¡±


    Neal had managed to find two big sticks suitable for staffs, and I got to learn some basic moves with him and Jude. To both my and Neal''s surprise, the good brother was better with a stick than Neal, as long as Neal didn''t use his full strength.


    Jude grinned at Neal when he mentioned that he was holding back. ¡°You use your strength, and I¡¯ll use my magic, I think the results may surprise you. I was over there in my world for twenty years kiddo, you were only in yours for two.¡±


    Neal didn¡¯t challenge it, and as the sun started to go down and we headed back to our camp, he put his amulet back on since we started to run into hikers.


    He had taken it off again since sparring against a guy that was seven foot eight but looked around five ten was throwing me off.


    Which is why Unseelie Knight that came for me thought it was just me, a monk, and a kid sitting around the campfire cooking fish on skewers.


    We had gotten a pretty good catch between the fish traps and some lines we had set up and left for when we got back. Nothing big, but plenty of little ones to fill us up.


    After I got done cleaning them all. Jude had done one to show me how to do it, then I was on my own.


    Gross, and messy.


    I had gone fishing with my grandfather several times when I was a kid and he was still alive, but Grandpa had never made me clean the fish, take them off the hook, or even bait them.


    One minute we were sitting around the fire, the next a tall painfully thin guy wearing armor that looked like red glass was standing on the other side of the fire, staring down at me with a sneer.


    Appearing one by one behind him were creatures, some goblins, wolves that walked on their hind legs and carried jagged blades, and even what I swear looked like a Bigfoot.


    It had a log with antlers with sharpened tips strapped to it in its hands.


    ¡°James, son of James the first. Brother of Imogene. Your family owes me a blood debt. I will collect it from you."


    I''m not trying to sound like a badass here, but I wasn''t that afraid. The numbers were bad, and they were armed while I at best had a stick about ten feet away, but under most circumstances, I would be alone and already running away with some degree of confidence in getting enough of a lead to get the Thunderer out of my Ready2Go bag.


    But with Jude and Neal here, I guess it was time for the bag of iron filling I kept in the storage ring. If I scattered that around in the air then all three of us could run away.


    But it turned out, I had two real badasses with me.


    Jude stood and lit up with a brilliant radiance that when it faded away revealed him standing there in a gleaming silver coat of chain with a shield on his arm bearing a red cross. Something medieval looking with a pick head on one side and a four spiked hammer head on the other was in his hand.


    Neal sighed as he stood up and removed his necklace. Holding out his hand toward our fire and saying a word under his breath that I couldn''t make out, the handle of an immense scimitar seemed to be made of flames stretched out from the burning coals and into his hand in response.


    The two of them looked at the entire crew facing me, as I stood and waved my hand at the other side of the fire. "I prefer Jim, but please join us, and maybe we can work out this blood debt without anyone getting hurt.¡±


    Baron Erebus¡¯s cousin got killed by Imogene¡¯s field team when they caught him stealing children for slaves, and Erebus had been pressed by his family to avenge him somehow. He swore on his blade that it would taste her blood, but his fiance, a seer, told him he wasn¡¯t going to have much luck.


    Or survive.


    But it seemed like my blood as Imogene¡¯s brother was close enough.


    So after joining us for dinner, to which he contributed a nice skin of a light dry white wine that Brother Jude pronounced to be safe, I let him poke the tip of my finger with the pointy end of the red glass looking sword he called Sanguine, and then he and his crew were on their way.


    In the morning I completely botched cleaning a rabbit. At least the snare had broken its neck so I didn''t have to kill it.


    How did everyone else¡¯s weekend go?


    Addendum:


    So apparently Brother Jude''s hurt stick is called a warhammer, dispute it being completely incapable of hammering in a nail or anything like that with all the spikes on the working end. I guess that''s the war part of the name.

 19) Splitting Hairs

    Ttaa 19) Splitting Hairs


    The world is not only getting stranger, but people are starting to truly understand that it¡¯s changing.


    And they don¡¯t like it. Especially the people whose livelihoods are being threatened.


    Meet Elvelyn Dushane, her real name, owner of the Empora Hair Saloon.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know how I¡¯m supposed to compete. I can style hair, dye it, cut it, but I can¡¯t grow it on command. I don¡¯t have magic and that isn¡¯t fair.¡±


    Evelyn¡¯s competitor is Scott Langshaw, one of her distant cousins, and former employee.


    When I talked to Scott, he let out a huff.¡°It¡¯s not my fault, one day I left the house, and as soon as I was out the front door, I was standing in the middle of a crowded city with all sort of races around me. Dozens of them, and no way of getting back. So I fell back on the only thing I was trained in. Hair styling.


    He shrugged, ¡°And doing with magic was how things were done there, learning the basics of Hursinmancy was the only way to keep me out of one of the charities homes for the incapable or incompetent.¡±


    While Scott can do other magic, most of the spells he learned were one offs, magic made to do one thing and to be mastered with practice. His training was from more like a community center class then formal schooling.


    ¡°I was there for about eight months, and starting to do pretty well, then someone from something called the Theological Commission showed up, apologized for the inconvenience, but insisted that I had to go back home.¡±


    Scott, a man in his early thirties, with excellent hair shrugged again. ¡°He did give me an entire two weeks to sell off my business, do some sight seeing, shop, and have a goodbye party. Decent guy, really.¡±


    ¡°But then I was home, and I tried to work with Evelyn, but she wanted nothing to do with magic, and I do have to earn a living.¡±


    His cousin¡¯s hired a lawyer to write a cease and desist letter to him, which Scott claims had no actually legal force behind it, But Evelyn says she is still planning on pursuing legal action to shut down Scott business ¡°Enchanted¡±.


    Evelyn explained. ¡°This isn¡¯t just about him stealing all my customers, I¡¯m actually concerned because no one can say for sure if using magic here on Earth is safe. Things need to be tested before he goes and uses it on people. He made my uncle¡¯s hair grow back, does that sound safe to you, and he¡¯s changing people hair color so it grow in whatever shade they want. Some of the younger girls have purple or pink hair, permanently. What if his magic stops working and they¡¯re stuck like that for life?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°It just isn¡¯t right.¡±


    Scott meanwhile is already planning to move himself, and his business elsewhere.


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    ¡°I¡¯ve been getting a lot of attention, and I think I could do well with a bigger market. Cousin Evie can have this town, but I would like to beat her in court, just to have a precedent in case someone with a better lawyer come after me later.


    Now I didn¡¯t want to mention this, but¡­ Someone with a lot more money then Scott ever had, before or after he vanished for two weeks, is paying for some very good, very expensive lawyers to represent him in court.


    Someone, or someones are already moving to protect the use of magic in America, in a legal sense, while the politicians who would use it as a witch hunt to sell fear to get votes are still in denial.


    Damn. That makes it sound like I hate and distrust politicians, which I do, but I shouldn¡¯t use this blog to go on about my personal beliefs So let me just say this, it appears that some unknown people are trying to smooth out the speed bumps of our country becoming one in which magic is an accepted and commonplace resource, before it become an issue.


    And I can¡¯t say it¡¯s a bad idea, or a good one. This is all just too new.


    From it¡¯s all about hair, I moved on to it¡¯s all about the children.


    Other worldly children.


    Stanley Dixon High School was closed down twenty some years ago after a newer school was build. Stanley D was converted into office space, but never had all that many renters.


    Recently is was bought up in it¡¯s entirety by a returnee. One of a group of people kidnapped off of a plane to fight against a great evil, and lost.


    The woman sitting across from me. Padma Singh, could either be considered in her early twenties, her age on Earth, or her late twenties, the years she lived.


    ¡°We didn¡¯t entirely loose. We beat the Dark Emperor''s army, and utterly destroy him as well, but by the time we won, that entire world had been too badly damaged. It was actually slowly breaking up into pieces. We had earned our ticket home, but everyone we left behind was going to suffocate or freeze as their world died.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°The King and his wizards who had summoned us were already using the magic they promised us to save themselves, but we had found out own way back. And we took as many people as we could with us.¡±


    Padma closed her eyes. ¡°Just over five hundred of them. All children. Their families insisted, and Sven, our Wizard, said the smaller the people we took, the more we could save.¡±


    ¡°I offered to stay behind, so did others, but Sven refused. He said the ones we saved would need us.¡±


    She abruptly stood up. ¡°Lunch will be served soon, let¡¯s meet the children.¡±


    So to note, not human children.


    Oh there were a few, but do to a mixed heritage almost all of them had hair and eye colors not seen on Earth without dye and special lenses.


    The others¡­ ¡°Beast kin, Demons, Dweomer Folk, Celestials, Jinni. The last city had been very cosmopolitan, and then it was filled with refugees, but in the end we had to pick and choose.¡±


    Her eyes watered a bit. ¡°Only the one¡¯s who could survive on our world that had so little magic, and only the ones who could intermarry with humans.¡±


    She turned towards me, and raised her head to look me in the eyes, ¡°We wanted them to find new families, or be able to start their own.¡±


    The kids¡­ were kids. Loud and hyper, or quiet and sullen, both types with haunted eyes. Some of them took an interest in seeing a stranger, others just wanted to chat with their friends as they ate their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with something red and fruity smelling to drink.


    Only three members of the group that got taken to another world stuck around to take care of the kids, along with a few women who had been pregnant and had ties with their group.


    I¡¯m guessing very close ties.


    Other¡¯s had at least donated some of the gold and other valuables they had brought with them from the Fallen World, or sent money as they made it elsewhere on Earth with the abilities they had earned during their war.


    But it was still too many children for the handful of people to care for, and most people were too fearful to take a job taking care of kids with horns and others who already knew simple spells.


    Which is why they are up for adoption.


    Legally the children¡¯s status is up in the air, the government is giving them the run around rather then anyone taking responsibility for making a decision that may be used against them politically. But it¡¯s not like they can be deported back to their own country, or anyone wants to deal with taking them away from their guardians or prospective parents and doing something with them.


    But if you are ready for a kid, one that looks a little different, you will find the contact information below.


    Under different circumstances¡­ I donated some money. It¡¯s what little I could do.


    Whoever backed up Scott Langshaw might want to help out here too, at least in terms of getting things sorted out in a legal sense, because I don¡¯t think there are the last people in need of help coming our way.

 20) All’s Fair

    20) All¡¯s Fair


    I received an offer, to train in the sword, and all I had to do was go to the Otherworld Fair.


    My reply was that I think I would be better off learning how to use a spear and a knife, but I was told it would be a pretty comprehensive training.


    The Otherworld fair was a Renaissance fair on the weekends in the summer, but the rest of the time it was handed over to some people who felt like getting together in a place that, while it didn''t look authentic, at least didn¡¯t look like part of the modern world.


    And it had running water, regularly cleaned Porta Johns, and plenty of parking.


    It sounded like it could be a trap, but Imogene told me that she had been there a few times, for inspections, and could drop me off. She even offered to set up a permanent Shortcut if I did take up the offer.


    So I went.


    A couple of security guards who gave me the same sense of dislike I had gotten from the White Tree people and Neal with his amulet on stopped me from the outside gate, but one of them recognized my sister and waved us past.


    Inside was what Imogene called "The Goblin Market, all though King Ernie and his people had never been there. But there are plenty of people from other worlds who can make things. Things other people from other worlds need. As long as they only sell those things to each other, the Taskforce doesn''t see a reason to pick a fight with people tough enough to have killed an evil god on some other world.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°Although people higher up are starting to put pressure on my employers, they want something done so they can say they got something done. They don¡¯t seem to care if it¡¯s something good or bad.¡±


    I gave her a sad smile. "Yeah sis, that''s how things work. I''m pretty sure it''s not just this country, or this world that works like that."


    She seemed unhappy, but wisdom comes at the cost of happiness.


    Since I didn¡¯t have an appointment, we wandered around the market for a while. There was a forge with a big gal with green skin banging away at what looked like it was going to be an axe, some short guys openly selling guns with glowing engravings on them, and even an entirely normal looking older man with a booth filled with baskets of what could have been either fruit or vegetables I had never seen before.


    Labeled at pretty good prices for fresh produce.


    I pointed at what looked like a pink and orange apple. ¡°Is that safe for us locals to eat?"


    He grinned and waved at the booth. ¡°Everything is, and it¡¯s all grown local, but the tastes of some of it may surprise you.¡±


    I got a bag filled with a little bit of everything and took pictures of labels so I knew what they were called. A few things he said I should save the seeds for if I wanted to try growing them on my own.


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    Not my thing, but Imogene asked some questions about growing seasons, and how much sunlight they would need.


    Guess we¡¯re putting in a garden.


    And I guess she didn¡¯t get to go shopping when she was here on official business, as she took me all around the place, picking up what she claimed to be crafting materials, some books she liked the look of written in lettering like nothing I had seen before and trying on dresses.


    ¡°How does it look on me?¡±


    I looked a the gauzy dress gathered up up under her chest and then poofing out that made her look like a shuttlecock. ¡°Do you want me to be honest, or nice?¡±


    She frowned at me, sighed, and muttered something about "Boys." before changing back into her regular jeans, hoodie, and mom''s old leather coat.


    The staff leaned to the side and jerked up and down. I think it was snickering.


    She got back at me of course, and she made me carry all of her stuff until we got to the jousting grounds where a few dozen people of various races were sparring, and she put everything in her ring.


    Mom''s wedding ring. A diamond was the best stone she could find on our world for enchantment, but she asked my permission to use it and to resize it.


    ¡°Yeah, Mom would have loved that you had it.¡± It wasn¡¯t like I would ever use it.


    As the last of her bags vanished in a swirl of white light in between me and her upheld hand, I gave her a look promising vengeance.


    Then I was off to meet my new trainer.


    Robert had taught me a lot, he had even worked on putting some moves together that worked best for me rather than shoehorning me into a traditional martial art. He had also taught me some bayonet techniques that he had found out were based on old time spear fighting and some moves with a knife.


    I had a lot more he could teach me, but he had told me I had reached the limits of what he knew about fighting with a weapon, and that he had other students to focus on.


    Showing up to training from then on would be more about practicing than training, and after knocking me around the gym and wiping away the blood from his nose, he told me I had graduated.


    It took about two weeks for the bruises he left to heal up completely.


    Now I had an invite to train with a sword master named Glenn, who to all appearances was a young woman, and had been so ever since she had been taken to another world and restored to her youth, health, and the gender she had always wanted to be.


    ¡°I had been in a car accident when I was a teen, drunk driver at the wheel, and I took the offer to go be a hero when I got promised the healthy body I would need. When I mentioned that the body I really needed would have to be female, the goddess said it was the reason she had come to me. To correct my flesh to what my soul had always been.¡±


    The short blonde woman shrugged. ¡°Still having problems getting my identity confirmed thought, even with my prints in the system. Those didn¡¯t change.¡±


    She had done IT for the government. Had. It turns out that going missing for several months on another world and then coming back younger, walking, and female can cost you your security clearance.


    After we introduced each other she explained why she had made the offer to train me. ¡°I don¡¯t think your sister understands that you being able to see her do magic is not normal. You have to be magically sensitive to magic to see it. It must be something everyone from her world can do, but for boring old humanity, it¡¯s unusual.¡±


    She grimaced. ¡°And makes it very probable that you will get snatched at some point, you¡¯re too good of a candidate, and I owe the people who trained me to pass on their work. So, you in?¡±


    Over the next few hours, I learned I can''t swing at things worth a dam. Not with just the one hand anyways. Which means I suck with swords, I can stab alright, but swinging with any strength or speed is right out.


    She rolled her eyes at me after most of an hour, ¡°Okay, we¡¯ll switch to knives, then I¡¯ll have Rogie work on you with spears and staff work. At least you won¡¯t have to figure out how to carry a sword around.¡±


    Well, it would be pretty easy with the storage ring, but it wouldn¡¯t help me much if I ended up somewhere that kind of magic didn¡¯t work.


    And yep, I''m good with a spear. I just need to add a spearhead to the Ready2Go bag and I can put it on the end of a stick anywhere.


    Addendum:


    So one thing I learned from my camping trip, was to get a smaller Oh Shit bag that I can actually carry around, and then an aluminum frame Oh Shit backpack for the rest of it. The pack is even more awkward to get in and out of a trunk. But it means I can take everything I manage to bring with me to another world, along with me as I head out from wherever I arrive at.


    I also tattled on the existence of the Otherworld fair to King Ernie who worked out a deal with Imogene for a Shortcut there. The Goblin Market now has goblins.

 21) Delve

    21) Delve


    Today I did a dungeon run.


    According to Mark Wilks, the dungeon''s owner, "We can only send in a group about once a week, magic is just so weak here on Earth it takes that long for the dungeon to respawn everything.¡±


    He shrugged, ¡°But in another couple of years, who knows.¡±


    Wilks himself spent most of twenty years in another world called Catasent, and during his time there he acquired several of what he called Challenge Cores. ¡°The gods made them over there, a place to test and challenge champions to deal with various threats. For right now I¡¯m only going to make one of them available. As for the rest¡­" He grinned. " I''m thinking an auction, one with only the richest people, or nations putting, in their bids."


    I would imagine he might not have much choice in giving up the rest of his cores to our beloved government, but he seems pretty confident. And he survived for twenty years on another world, his time, four for ours, and made it back. Taking anything away from him that he doesn''t want to give might be something of an issue for whoever tries it.


    But that''s not my problem or concern.


    Instead, I was there to delve dungeons deep, along with a few celebrities. I¡¯m not sure how exactly I got included in their numbers, maybe someone canceled at the last minute?


    The dungeon, which Wilks calls Level One, was implanted about a year ago in the basement of a mall on the edge of town that got only partially built before the project ran out of money. Wilks gave me a tour, ¡°Once we get to the point that the dungeon can take multiple parties a week, most of this will be set up as stores, training halls, bars, and a nice hotel."


    For right now though, we, my party that is, are being bused in from our accommodations in town, and getting dressed in a set of cargo containers.


    ¡°Safety gear, whatever you think you need, help yourself." Wilk''s assistant, Jeff, waved at the array of armor, weapons, and other gear along the wall of the container. ¡°For you guys, it''s free today, but we will want it back since it¡¯s normally a rental.¡±


    So the dungeon is running on the rules of Catasent, just stepping inside it will give us a class, like in a game. A class gives you powers, but you only have access to them while you are in the dungeon, or when the gods of Catacent give you a quest you would need those powers for.


    Needless to say, those gods aren''t around here. So once I step out of the dungeon I¡¯ll be going from a supernaturally empowered being back to a mere mortal.


    At least on this world.


    In this next part, I¡¯m going to stop using names. I¡¯ll explain why further down.


    Me and the Action Hero, both of us a bit too old for this, start picking things out. I start with a padded coat still wrapped in a shrink wrapper, while the action hero goes for something made of overlapping layers of black leather and chromed buckles.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The Rapper just shakes his head at us. ¡°Man, you two are crazy, all that crap is just going to slow you down, besides, I got all the protection I need right here¡­¡±


    Then the idiot pulls out a large shiny gold plated automatic pistol.


    Me and the Action Hero exchange a look, then a nod. Yeah¡­ the Rapper can go out front, where we aren''t.


    Over the padded coat, I put on a short sleeved shirt like pullover made of links of metal, it goes down almost to my knees. A leather thing with metal plates goes around my neck, with another thick leather belt around my waist, with smaller plates on the front and larger ones on the back over my kidneys.


    I had already known what I would be picking out, they had a website, and my trainer Glenn made me spend most of an afternoon wearing something similar while she beat on me with a blunt sword.


    A helmet with a cam goes on my head and a long blade by my side. In my hand, I have a short thrusting spear, which I can throw, kind of, and an interstate highway sign shaped shield on my left arm.


    My bag is over my shoulder, so if I do need a gun, I do have one, but this is practice for me.


    Besides me, the Action Hero, and the Rapper, we have the girls. A Model trying to become an actress and the Influencer.


    The two of them went with something lighter like the Action Hero as well. But none of them bother with anything on their heads, I guess they want to be seen and recognized.


    So I guess I¡¯m the Tank, but I¡¯m not going out front if that puts me between the idiot waving the gun around telling the two women how he¡¯s going to protect them and anything he might be aiming at.


    Action Hero has an axe at his side, and is carrying a crossbow. The Model has a light sword, and the Influencer has a knife by her side but is keeping her hands free for her phone.


    Priorities I guess.


    As could be predicted, it''s a disaster, which is why I''m not using anyone''s name.


    Down a flight of stairs, we came to a set of reinforced chain link gates beyond which was a dark hole in the cement floor. A thin line of smoke rose out of it as we waited for the gate to open to be opened. Alex stood by wearing a set of cheap costume wizard robes and holding a clipboard.


    "Alright, the Level One Dungeon is just that, a level one dungeon. The monsters tend to be weak and in small numbers, all except the boss monster near the end of the dungeon. If you are getting hurt, we have people who got healing classes who can go back into the dungeon with you and fix you up, but don''t push on to the final room if you are hurt."


    He went on for a bit with some more warning, but I wasn¡¯t really paying attention.


    It was pucker time, I was going in.


    Despite all my concerns about the rapper, I wanted to see what was in the hole.


    It turned out to be a downward slope. Going down it, I had a feeling like a cold breeze was blowing gently against my back. Dim streaks of light seemed to be flowing past me.


    There weren¡¯t any boxes floating in the air this time, the knowledge that I was Brawler, one of the ten starting classes we had been briefed on, was suddenly in my head.


    ¡°Oh good, once again, no magic.¡±


    The interior resembled an actual cave, a living one, by which I mean damp, chilly, and smelling like an old basement. Slightly glowing moss gave off enough light to see by, but not enough to see what was lurking around us.


    At least until I saw something creep up behind the Influencer by the light of the phone she was talking into.


    Action Hero picked up on where I was looking, and shouted a warning while I was still realizing that yelling myself might have been a good idea.


    Everyone turned to look at the cat sized spiders, three of them creeping up behind the Influencer.


    Which is when the rapper opened fire, on the spiders, and everyone in between them, and him.


    The Influence took two in her legs, Action Hero got one in the arm making him drop his axe. One spider took a hit, and to be fair the bullet killed it dead, but the Rapper was still shooting at the other two which had begun to climb up on the screaming Influencer.


    I swear I was just trying to knock the gun out of his hand, but the Rapper flinched at just the right time. His thumb got caught between the edge of the spear head and his gun before he dropped it with a scream, but I was already stabbing at one of the spiders while the Model kicked at the other one.


    With three people injured, we didn¡¯t even get past the first room. But the Level One staff was able to fully heal everyone, including putting the Rapper''s thumb back on.


    All in all, it was interesting. I confirmed that I¡¯m not one of the people that freeze up in a fight, even when dealing with something with too many moving parts around its mouth hissing at me.


    Two out of five starts, but I would go again. But only with some people I trust.

 22) Refugees.

    Ttaa 22) Refugees.


    It wasn¡¯t a terrible idea. At least from their end.


    The people of Relham were facing a terrible, unexpected fate. The twilight of their gods had come when the Child of Light and the Child of Darkness, the youngest, and only recently born children of their respective pantheons faced off to end the eternal war between the Court of Light, and the Court of Darkness. The two competing pantheons of gods had fought for control of their world since its creation.


    The death of one of the children had long been promised as a means of banishing the gods of their respective pantheon from the World of the Shadow War, leaving it to be ruled by the victors from then on.


    The Court of Darkness was a little sketchy but by no means exactly the bad guys, no more than the Court of Light was entirely the good guys.


    But¡­ The Children killed each other. At about the same time.


    The people of Relham saw the fight between the Children in the sky as gigantic ghostly images. The Child of Light would have won since she skewered the Child of Darkness with her spear, right through his cold black heart, but the Child of Darkness clawed his way up the spear to drive his sword through her heart as well.


    Both Courts, as promised, were driven from that world.


    That intensely magical world. That world which needed gods just to keep it running.


    The sun rose the next day, pale and white, but cold. Its light brought no warmth with it. Snow began to fall that night.


    People began to freeze to death before the next dawn.


    Most people capable of traveling between worlds had fled before that second night, but Relham had a school for wizards, and the Lord of Relham was married to its master''s granddaughter.


    He begged the Archmage to save his whole city, along with as many people from the surrounding countryside as he could contact, and help haul them inside the city''s walls.


    All well and good. He stepped up and tried to do right by his people and save as many lives as he could. Not knowing how many he was going to kill in the process.


    The entire city was translocated, and that precise word, translocated matters. There was no gate, no portal, no teleportation. Translocated meant that the city of Relham transferred to someplace as large as itself, while that place in turn was transferred to Relham¡¯s location on a dying world.


    The place that it switched with was Irving, New Jersey. A good sized town in the Pine Barrens known for it going on a century old experimental botanical greenhouse. Population, Twenty eight thousand.


    The first I knew of it was when my sister appeared in the living room with a swirl of light that reached right through the walls of the bathroom, and I heard her call my name in a low, emotionless voice.


    I finished up my business and cracked the door open a bit so I could look out as I began to wash my hands. That¡¯s when I saw the haunted look on her face as she stood there shivering. ¡°Imo?¡±


    Rinsing off quickly, I clenched my hands into fists to squeeze out some of the dampness and swiped my hands down the front of my pants as I crossed the room and pulled her in for a hug.


    She was freezing cold and stiff at a board in my arms as I looked around the room for any sign of what the hell had happened. Her staff was hanging in the air behind her, lower to the ground than normal, and it had water beading on its surface.


    ¡°What happened? Imogene?¡±


    She began to shake, and try to talk, but the tears, and sorry to mention, snot, were choking her voice.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    After a bit, I picked her up and carried her over to the couch to sit by me, and after a while, she began to explain.


    She had felt the translocation from several states away, with something that big it was no wonder. After rushing over to see what the hell had happened, she saw all the roads leading to the edges of the ice covered walls of the city and guessed what had happened.


    ¡°I got over there, to where the town had gone in just a few minutes here time, but it was long enough there, too long¡­ everyone had froze.¡±


    I rubbed her shoulder for a moment, and she began to¡­ well report. In a monotone emotionless voice. "There were signs of fires, big ones that I found people¡­ their remains all around. It must have been days over there for them. I had to use a spell to breathe since even the air had begun to freeze¡­"


    She cried herself out, and I carried her to her bed. When I tried to get up, her hand reached out to grab the strap of my Ready2Go bag. So I had to sit there and text her boss instead of calling.


    [ Irving NJ on other world. Cold enough for air to freeze. No possibility of survivors. Imo is a wreck. Give her time ]


    Special Agent Adams replied after a moment.


    [ We need her.]


    I gave her my answer. After rewording it four times to keep it simple and direct.


    [ I¡¯m armed ]


    My sister got seven hours before she woke up and I fed her a hot meal. Bacon, eggs, toast with preserves, and baked beans, a combination she had acquired a taste for somewhere.


    After she got out of the shower, she gave me a look. ¡°I need you with me for this. There needs to be a witness. Someone not working for the people in power.¡±


    I nodded. Then got dressed in some stuff that I won¡¯t admit to having.


    The state police had already surrounded Relmar and the New Jersey National Guard was setting up, with some helicopters from the air force ferrying in people as well.


    Imogene showed off her NSA ID, then left to get her team, leaving me standing there with a black and mesh vest over my gray thrift store overcoat with the word ¡°Reporter¡± in block letters on the reflective strip on the back.


    The state cops looked me over. Then at each other, before the cop in charge approached me. ¡°So. The little one who just popped in here with you and then popped out again works for the Government.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Yep.¡±


    She mused that over. ¡°And she ain¡¯t exactly human?¡±


    I narrowed my eyes at her. ¡°Our mother was. Her shit of a Father wasn¡¯t. But she spent most of an hour last night crying about what happened to the people from Irving before she exhausted herself enough to pass out. Is that human enough for you?¡±


    The cop''s eyes began to water. "They¡¯re dead then?¡±


    Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. It was cold enough over there that the air froze over. They would have quietly passed out well before¡­¡±


    The woman sniffled. ¡°I knew people¡­ Thanks for telling me... something. I got people to talk to.¡±


    That was the leak by the way. I take full responsibility for it. Waiting for someone to announce it from a podium after a few days wouldn¡¯t have made it any better.


    My sister returned with her team. All of them were heavily armed, and none of them questioned my presence.


    Special Agent Adams had what looked like a real portable flag pole with a golden point on top and a professionally made white flag that she waved in front of us as we approached the gates to the city. A swirl of Imogene¡¯s white colored magic circled around our ears and mouths.


    Translation magic. A standard spell for a World Walker.


    She had made a simple looking silver earring for me that does it all the time, a clip on since I refuse to get mine pierced.


    We got into the city after a bit of a delay and were escorted past the elated but nervous people of the city.


    The Archmage, Toberan, had died in the casting of the spell that saved his city but killed the people in the downtown area of Irving that was within the footprint of the Relham city walls. A trade off which had saved about thirty thousand people from their world at a cost of nineteen thousand of ours.


    It would have been less, but it had been a school day.


    With the Archmage dead we might never know why he chose to bring the city to Earth, or if he knew he would be sending other people to their death to save his own. Or even if that was something his spell required in order to work.


    Toberan escaped justice, if there was any kind of justice for something on this scale, but his grandson in law, Baron Luric Relmar surrendered himself into Special Agent Adam¡¯s custody. He was trying to take full responsibility for everything before begging for mercy for his people.


    I had thought about hitting him, I don¡¯t think anyone on Imogene¡¯s team would have stopped me, but I could see the guilt, and the horror in his eyes. Even if I broke his jaw, suffering for what had been done in his name would have made him feel better.


    He also renounced his title, passing it on to his eldest daughter, Laren, to represent the people of his city as they settled into their new life in the US.


    It''s not like we could send them back. I mean, Imo could, since the energy from the spell that brought them here was still active. But what would it accomplish, other than killing even more innocent people?


    Right now the city is still surrounded and closed to casual visitors and the media under the excuse of a quarantine. But it''s more to keep the families of those who had been in Irving from looking for payback.


    It¡¯s hard to even get the trucks with supplies in with all the protesters.


    I didn¡¯t witness that, instead, over the last few hours, our time, I¡¯ve been busy.


    Spending days in Irving, that world''s time, preparing the dead, and witnessing.


    There''s a special trick to collecting someone''s remains when they were that frozen. You had to be careful or¡­ parts snapped off. Or worse, shattered.


    Special charms gave the volunteers air to breathe, and protection from the cold, although with the atmosphere so thin heat didn''t radiate away from you all that much.


    Later, at my suggestion, authorized collectors would recover keepsakes, photos, computers, and even the remains of pets from people¡¯s homes at the request of their owners or their families. It won¡¯t matter too much how quickly time passed over there compared to here. Nothing is going to go bad in that cold.


    I wanted to talk about it in my last group meeting, but it was too soon.


    It¡¯s something I could talk about, facts wise, but now something I know what to feel about. Not yet

 23) Addendums

    23) Addendums


    So a few subjects not worth a whole post on their own have come up in the forums, that still deserve to get a mention.


    1: The grateful dead.


    Not the band, although I¡¯m sure there are a lot of worlds that would have loved to get the members who have already passed on.


    The thing is that I have noticed but never thought about the implications of is that on average three out of four returnees I heard of or met, have died here on earth then have either been reborn on another world, got a brand new body once there, or took over someone else¡¯s body.


    Which means even though thousand of people are getting physically stolen from our world each day, at least three times as many are being taken after their death.


    Maybe more since dying and ending up in a new body seems like something that would cut off your ties to your old life.


    But a rebirth isn¡¯t a bad deal for them, I wouldn¡¯t mind so much being taken to another world if it meant getting to live a new life of any kind after dying in this one.


    In fact, I hereby declare and assert that I am up for grabs to anyone who wants me after I am well and truly dead on this world. Barring any form of causing my death to free me up for the taking, or dragging me off to some kind of punishment world.


    On second thought, I¡¯d rather goes the same route as normal rather then take my chances. Offer withdrawn.


    Although even if I end up in another body, I¡¯m pretty sure Imogene will still come looking for me, and world bring me back here if at all possible.


    I guess I should covert some of my money to gold and bury it somewhere in case I end up in a different body and it takes forever to prove I¡¯m still me in a legal sense and get access to my bank account.


    Also, with Imogene having a legal identity and American citizenship, I should get a will done up.


    2: The former Baron of Relham is currently in a deep hole in the ground that Imogene¡¯s team is referring to as Askaban. Where he will be tried and likely sentenced to as well once the various Federal and state agencies finish fighting over who get a piece of him.


    I¡¯ve asked for a tour, and maybe an interview. Special A haven¡¯t said no, just not now. ¡°After all, it would be hard to let someone into a secure area that I know is armed.¡±


    Ouch. I should have guessed she was going to make me pay for that remark.


    3: I have been on several more camping trips, both with Brother Jude and some other members of Group, as well as a few trips all on my own. In several different environments thanks to Imogene dropping me off, and sometimes joining me along with a few of her team members.


    These are often less survival training then camping trips, both the weekends with Jude and the Group members, and the ones with Imogene¡¯s work buddies, but I still get to learn things from people who know, and have experienced, a lot more then me, and I get to try some things out I¡¯ve seen on videos and read in books.


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Some of that is even new to the people who are teaching me. It¡¯s nice to have something to contribute.


    I just hope Imogene doesn''t get me in trouble. It¡¯s not like she bothers with customs. But whatever country in South America we were at last weekend was nice. There were parrots, in flocks, that was a new.


    4: My training at arms is going well, as are my weekly sparring sessions at Robert¡¯s gym. I¡¯m a little surprised at how much crossover there is between what I would have thought were two completely different types of fighting. But Robert just sighed when I mentioned it to him. ¡°I taught you moves that worked with your strengths, anyone else worth a shit would do the same regardless of if you got something in your hands or not.¡± Then he showed me a few new moves to work with the way I fought now.


    And finally...


    5: My Magic. Yes, I got some of my own. Finally.


    The city of Relham had something no one else who had came, or had been returned to, Earth had.


    A school for magic, along with it¡¯s testing facilities.


    Toberan Primary wasn¡¯t the premier school of magic from their world, it was more like a community collage. They taught basic magic to anyone who could afford the tuition, which was dirt cheap for locals, and had the ability to use magic.


    Good news, I got that.


    I can see magic, just like my sister, which is the most common way of being able to use magic.


    The problem is that I had no magic of my own.


    Most people lack a core, an abstract part of their mind, or soul, that they collect magic in and then channel into a spell. If you lack a core, you can¡¯t do magic, not unless someone or something else supplies it for you.


    I have a core, but wait, there¡¯s more.


    Mine¡¯s inverted. Which is rare.


    Laren, Baroness Relham, who had accompanied me to my testing since she had picked up enough about our world to know people might read about my visit in the blog and wanted to look good, was kind enough to explain it to me.


    See, I described you as helpful, and kind. That¡¯s a good look.


    ¡°What you have is sometimes called a Witch Hunter¡¯s core, or a Mage Killer¡¯s. Rather then pull magic into yourself to cast spells, you reject it and anything shaped from it.¡±


    ¡°It can defend you against magic that you aren''t expecting, or magic you see as harmful or hostile. And every time you do so it slowly grows stronger, just like an Arcane¡¯s core grows stronger every time they cast a spells.¡±


    So, needless to say I was pretty bummed out. But¡­


    ¡°That doesn''t mean you can not use magic, you just can¡¯t cast spells. You can still manipulate magic around you, it just takes longer to do so and it takes more effort. Combat magic is beyond you, but it¡¯s will also one day be largely ineffective against you.¡±


    As it turned out, it wasn¡¯t that I can¡¯t do magic, I just was trying to use it on too small of a scale.


    Ritual magic takes, well, rituals. Rituals and constant intent.


    Glyphs slowly carved into stone or engraved in metal. Walking a labyrinth, which is not a maze by the way, just a twisty path without any branches.


    Martial art training. Dancing. Painting. Music.


    The easiest Ritual magic to use is something you can put your feelings into while you do it, either the calm that come from being in an almost meditative trace while you work, which is called the inward path, or something where you put you feeling into it for others, the outward path.


    I don¡¯t feel calm when I do the fighting. I feel nervous, disappointed, or pissed off at myself for not being good enough, or losing so easily.


    Any sort of artwork is not a me thing, I¡¯m too self conscious to dance, and my voice is gravelly at best.


    But when I was younger, my grandfather let me try out his harmonica a few times, and it was one of the things he left to me specifically.


    I¡¯m not a good player, not yet, but I sure as hell feel something when I set it to my lips and begin to blow out the discordant notes that are supposed to be Ave Maria.


    And I see the pretty lights begin to swirl around me in the back yard as I try to play sitting on the steps on the back porch and look out over the garden me and my sister planted with some of the various seeds we got from the Goblin market.


    Some of those lights are magical, but they aren''t magic to be used.


    They dance.


    Either it isn¡¯t just flesh and blood people coming to Earth, or we got some natives of the unseen and magical variety emerging from the magic which is becoming part of this world.


    I like them, unlike my sister they don¡¯t make fun of awful attempts at playing a musical instrument for the first time since I was seven.


    ¡°You¡¯re just jealous because you know how much sweet loving I¡¯m going to get as a Bard.¡±


    Her staff flew in front of me and leaned back like it was giving me a look while my caring, loving sister, the only family I have left in the world, laughed at me so hard from behind my back that she snorted.


    She gave me a hug later that night when I explained who I gotten the harmonic from, and told her stories about our grandfather. Including the one¡¯s Mom never knew about.


    Tomorrow we¡¯re going to put some of the weird greenish white petaled flowers with the pale violet stalks flowers on his grave. He would have liked to have meet his granddaughter.

 24) Keeping the faith

    St Charles was an inner city church built early on in the last century with a semi Gothic look complete with a bell tower, stained glass windows, and a lot of hardwood pews.


    The Gothic look and the windows are still there, but the pews have cushions on them now. As well as all sorts of fluffy cushions. "Ytteri doesn''t see anything holy in suffering, and it''s already a sacrifice to lessen to my sermons. I do tend to go on for a bit."


    I''ve watched some recordings of them. She does, but her enthusiasm for the subjects she preaches comes through even in video.


    The person in question is Sojourner, her title not first name, Jessica Stevens, High Priestess of Ytteri, goddess of travel, and protector of the outer reaches.


    The elderly black woman who had spent centuries on an inside out world, as in with a sun in the middle and the world facing in on it from all sides, grinned at me from where we sat in her office which was filled with souvenirs and Tchotchkes from that world, Iak, and this one as well.


    "It turns out she is just as glad to protect the outer reaches of other worlds as well, and she certainly loves it when she gets prayers from places even she hasn''t been before. Getting away from her duties is pretty hard, so she appreciates the chance to see the places we go to as a disembodied presence, even more, when we offer up snacks and drinks as a sacrifice."


    She dug out a chocolate from a sampler box, checked the inner lid, and said a prayer. "Your servant offers a dark chocolate coconut to her Goddess."


    The treat seems to shake a bit before vanishing like a cutout picture being turned sideways.


    The older woman grinned. ¡°You don¡¯t need an alter for your offering when you¡¯re a Goddess of travel, one of the perks.¡±


    The church had gone in decline back in the eighties due to a lack of attendance in the small high school they had in the building across the street, and the elementary school in the basement. The local community had organized to keep the place going as both a church and a local community center. But by the late twenty tens, it had been decommissioned and offered up for sale.


    Several years later, Sojourner Stevens picked it up from the church for an undisclosed amount of gold coins, well before the government got around to regulating that sort of thing.


    She also got in some extensive renovations before the Department of the Treasury put the hammer down on paying for things with off world gold, other precious metals, and gems.


    Enchanted items, however, are still unregulated. Too hard to quantify in value. Which is also allowing an illegal trade in magical animal parts.


    I know I''m off on a tangent here but bear with me for a second.


    It doesn''t matter how few unicorns there are on Earth. They aren''t protected as endangered specials until someone makes it official. On the other hand, hunting them has been pretty hard on the poachers. The creatures have those horns for a reason.


    And some people take offense when you kill one, people who can find those that did not weeks or even decades after that fact. And can deal with those people in a way that their bodies will never be found.


    Be warned.


    On the other hand, Chupacabra, or whatever those things are they are calling Chupacabra, feel free to blow them away. It''s close to being official in Mexico and they''ve already crossed the border. Just don''t try to eat one.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    They¡¯re not poisonous, there just isn¡¯t enough hot sauce in the world to cover up how they taste.


    Stevens wasn¡¯t just content to return to her home of seventy three years just to see her friends and family again, she came back here for a purpose.


    To spread the faith.


    She shrugged after filling me in on that. ¡°And to see, and brag to my friends. But the real reason I came back is that after wandering around Iak for three hundred years, I¡¯ve seen most of it. At least the most interesting place, or interesting to me anyways.¡±


    Looking up at the world map hung up on the wall, and covered with pink and yellow push pins, with more pink than yellow, she waved her hand up at it. "The yellow ones are the places I''ve gotten to travel to, the pink ones..." She turned back to me with a gleam in her eyes. "All the places I get to go to as soon as I can find the time, and my students are keeping me pretty busy."


    Her students, yeah, St Charles is now a school again, or rather, a seminary.


    The first Temple of Yetteri is taking in lay students for training in the faith, and the possibility of entering the Goddesses service. Complete with access to holy magic.


    Needless to say, with a goddess of travel, there are a lot of field trips.


    Also, humanitarian aid, such as Faith healing, and delivering food and other supplies directly to the people who need it instead of going through the local governments who might take a cut, demand a bribe, or even let it rot on a dock rather than give it to the people in need.


    Sojourner Steven seemed a bit grim when talking about the incident in West Africa. "The local warlord wanted those people to die off so they wouldn''t be a problem for him anymore." She looked down at the low table between us, "But the followers of Ytteri are travelers, and travelers sometimes face dangers. Yetteri doesn''t ask us to turn the other cheek, just to give people a fair warning. I thought the tornado was a fair warning, but those idiots still tried to shoot me instead of taking their business elsewhere."


    She shook her head sadly. "Their choice, their consequences. I don''t see how anyone can still be trying to blame me for interfering in another country''s business. Suffering matters then borders, and I even patched up the survivors. Right after I helped the people they shot while trying to kill me and my students."


    The video of the three armored vehicles spinning around in the air with the sound clip from The Wizard of Oz, "Auntie Em, Auntie Em, it''s a twister, a twister." before being carried out and away is still getting hits two months later. Even after someone stopped kept taking them down.


    Also. Faith healing. As it''s a result of the power of the goddess answering prayers, rather than something the anointed Sojourners are doing themselves, it doesn''t fall under legal procedures and law.


    No licensees, no lawsuits, but they do charge.


    Or at least place priorities on those who offer generous, very, very, generous, donations.


    Stevens seemed a bit embarrassed. "I''m the only one that can call for the more powerful healing spells, but the good I can do by using them on the wealthy by putting their money to work does more good for more people than healing a poor person."


    ¡°Although even then I split my time three for one. Three people in need with no other options for each rich person in the same situation who wants to jump to the front of the line.¡±


    But the money¡­" She shook her head in disbelief. "Well I always knew money talks, but with the amounts some can and will pay for a sort of help no one else can offer, money shouts louder than a jet engine. Supplies, lawyers, bribes for officials to get out of the way. Money can do so much when you don''t care about keeping any of it for yourself, and more keeps coming in."


    Right now, the dozen or so Sojourners she has been able to teach and guide to the point that can commune with their goddess are sticking pretty close to the old church, but¡­


    ¡°Right now we got a chance to be the first. The first faith to offer something miraculous on demand. Some of the money we¡¯ve gotten is going to buying up new places for my former student to take in and teach students of their own.¡±


    The older woman leaned back in her chair. "And once we got enough of our people out there they don''t need one more old Sojourner''s services, I can focus on seeing new places and trying new things."


    She gave me another grin. ¡°You¡¯ve put me in contact with so many people who have come back from entirely new worlds for me to show my Goddess. Who knows, I might even see you out there someday.¡±


    Before I left, I asked, and she agreed.


    Before the altar of the Goddess with the great seven colored ring that was her symbol, Sojourner Stevens called for her Goddess, patron of travelers, to "Bless this son of the road on his travels, expected or otherwise. Keep him safe and may he find joy in new sights and experiences. And may he find his way home."


    There was no charge for me since the blessing didn¡¯t take using up her divine magic, but still, considering in whose name the blessing was given, I think it may have some weight.


    The six inch round wicker wreath, with each strand dyed one of the nine colors of the Goddess¡¯s symbol however did cost me a donation of twenty bucks, but it slipped onto the strap of my Ready2Go bag easily enough.


    It¡¯s not like a holy symbol of a goddess of travel doesn''t count as useful gear to help me survive somewhere.


    Addendum:


    Sorry. The church was built in an early Renaissance Romanesque style. There, I corrected it, Brother Jude, so stop it with the church nerd rage.


    Some people and their hobbies...

 25) The devil of my dreams

    Ttaa 25) The devil of my dreams


    The devil tried to buy my soul last night.


    Well, a devil, and it was more like an offer to be my agent.


    So it went like this¡­


    I had covered a shift at my old job. It wasn¡¯t like I needed the money, but the manager was an old friend who had hooked me up with a job when I really needed one, and kept me on the schedule even with my frequent absences.


    So when he needed a fill in guy badly enough to call me, and I could get free, I went in.


    Also, it was a bit¡­ Grounding. There''s nothing like working an eight hour shift cleaning off dishes next to a tank of boiling water to put me back in touch with normal, everyday life.


    Besides, I never know when it will be the last time I get to do it. To see some of the people I was working with forty hours a week just last year. The ones who saw a guy disappear with me. And then eat a comp meal of leftovers after the kitchen shut down while drinking a beer with the closing crew before we called it a night.


    So home, a shower, clip on the essentials bag to the dog collar around my ankle, and off to dreamland.


    Only to raise my head from where I was sitting in a leather chair to see a red skinned devil, complete with horns in a nice suit smirking at me from across a big fancy old fashioned desk.


    First... a quick pat down found my Ready2Go bag at my side, the pockets of my typical clothes filled with the essentials, and my Mom¡¯s graduation ring on the chain around my neck.


    A soft laugh came from the other side of the desk, "You''ve really internalized all of that as part of your self image. Even in your dreams, you have it on you. Yet another reason for me to have an interest."


    So¡­ Horns, red skin, deep black hair, yellow eyes with split irises. All that I expected.


    Even the nice suit was a bit expected, just not so low cut, or showing off so much cleavage. Right down to the top of her dark red abs.


    The Devil wears Prada.


    Or something like that since she was in a dark blue well cut suit, with a dark yellow shirt that went well with her eyes, and a gold necklace with a tiny jeweled cross hanging low between her¡­


    She smirked again. "It''s not that kind of dream Mr. Brenner. Although I can set it up to go that direction after we''re done. I have a friend who would be more than glad to take my place, and even wear this image. Although if you do you won¡¯t be doing much else besides sleep for the next few days, or weeks¡­¡±


    So, I thought about asking what was going on. But I got the gist. Plus starting off with that as the first thing I asked seemed like it might be a little trite.


    Word of the day tear off calendar. A Gift. Imogene got tired of seeing me tear off pieces of paper to use to jot down notes, and she liked learning obscure words.


    She peeked ahead up to an entire week. Which I consider cheating, and I¡¯ve called her on it a myriad of times


    Jot was from last Tuesday.


    What I asked was, ¡°You seem to know who I am, what should I call you.¡±


    It¡¯s not polite to ask for names when meeting otherworldly entities. Having their name gives you power over them. Our names are just sounds. At least our names that we know.


    Instead, she gives me something to call her, along with a genuine smile ¡°Call me, Miz Alzeba. Or just Alzs since I would like us to be friendly.¡±


    I gave her a nod in return, then shut up. And¡­ we stared at each other.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The first one to talk loses somehow, at least that¡¯s what I heard. And the alarm to prepare breakfast for me and Imogene would wake up me. It was the only way to guarantee I got to see her at all on one of her busy days, and she can¡¯t cook.


    Seriously. She can twist space with someone in it, and walk across worlds. But anything beyond pouring milk into cereal and she¡¯s hopeless. Sometimes she does the milk first.


    Besides, getting up that early means I¡¯m up early enough for my morning run when the evil day star isn¡¯t shining yet.


    Back to the starring, well, it isn''t all that bad giving her a long look, even while keeping my eyes above her collar bones. As we maintain eye contact, I feel a genuine smile begin to grow on my face just before the sides of her face turn a little purple and she turns her eyes away as she clears her throat.


    Was that a blush?


    Bard. Called it. At least in my dreams.


    ¡°Uh, yes. So we should discuss the offer I would like to make to you.¡±


    While she was getting around to getting to her point, I had taken to looking around her office.


    Lots of polished woodwork. Shelves of books bound in various shades of dyed leather, more like a fantasy library than a legal office which would have rows of matching books.


    Black curtains with a gold pattern too complex to make out with them open to show a desolate mountainous landscape with rivulets of red hot lava.


    Two days from now, I peek too. But I don¡¯t get caught.


    Right. Hell. Got it. I finished up my look around as she finished her sentence. ¡°Can¡¯t wait to hear it.¡±


    She interlocked her fingers together as she set her hands on the desk in front of her, "As you have noted in your blog, and yes we have WiFi out here, you have noticed how many more of your people have been, and still are, being taken from your world after death. And I am sure you have considered that you yourself might be taken at some point after your death.¡±


    I gave her a cautious, ¡°Yeah...¡±


    She grinned at me. ¡°Which is of course a possibility, that is why I¡¯m hoping you¡¯ll agree to let me serve as your agent. To get you the best deal I can for you in reimbursement for your services.¡±


    What now?


    Miz Alzeba must have seen the doubtful look on my face because she held up both of her hands. ¡°Let me explain. Before you refuse, and I swear you can refuse. This is not one of those offers.¡±


    I slowly nodded. ¡°Go on, but the decor is a little¡­ Cliche.¡±


    From two weeks ago.


    She stood up and came around her desk to sit on the corner with her legs crossed. I didn¡¯t look, wanting to keep my eyes on her face for any tells, but it didn¡¯t sound like she had hooves.


    "So here is the deal, waiting around for the just the right soul to fit their needs is too much of a time investment for most Powers. And causing the right person to die was an issue before, and now would anger some of your people with powers or their own in those areas. Reaching out from one world to the next can make someone vulnerable, thus this meeting in a shared dreamscape.¡±


    She took a moment to look around her office, and I checked.


    Shiny Black pumps with yellow heels, and a gold bracelet around her right ankle. Kind of cute.


    ¡°What does this represent to you, are you seeing me as a scholar? One that lives near a volcano?¡±


    She seemed serious like she was genuinely interested.


    ¡°An evil supernatural creature who tempts people into selling their souls into eternal torment in exchange for a wish. The type that typically twists wishes into a curse."


    ¡°Also dressed up like a lawyer, which is something similar."


    Her face went to a paler shade of red, then a light shade of¡­ violet. Something kind of between red and purple.


    Rurple? Rurple sounds like a good word.


    "I¡­" She fumed. "I trusted someone I should have known better than to trust. I am here to make a deal for where your soul goes, but it''s a mutually beneficial deal. And sending you to a place of torment would ruin my reputation, something I place a high value on.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°If it helps you''re appearing as a very nicely dressed, and attractive supernatural entity.¡±


    That got her going a bit purple again before she retreated behind her desk.


    So the deal was, instead of coming around to Earth and hoping someone suitable died while they were looking, they instead had independent brokers who snuck up and gathered up the dead in big bunches, and either sold them off as individuals to interested parties or in mass lots to all get brought to life as a group.


    Kind of like some animals like bears give birth to just one or two young and take care of them, while other animals like sea turtles just give birth to a whole bunch of eggs at the same time and hope the best, or luckiest, ones survive.


    However, agents like Adzs, get to make sure their clients don''t get snatched up, and make them part of the negotiation with the Powers that want them. In exchange for a payoff from the Power.


    She explained. ¡°Making sure it¡¯s a good deal for you means I get a good reputation. And your world is a new market. The last thing I want is for you to make it back to your world and tell people not to work with me. On the other hand, if I set you up with something nice and you come back¡­ Well, you are something of a celebrity.¡±


    I told her I had to think about it and talk to some people. Like brother Jude and Sojourner Stevens. You know, the experts. But I did plan on talking to her again.


    Better the devil you know?


    While I passed on meeting her friend, I did take a card from her that I could tear in half before going to sleep when I was ready to talk to her again.


    The card was on the mattress in front of my face when I woke up, so it was not just a dream.


    But if you find yourself being offered the chance to get a cheat power and be reborn on some world with magic and dragons by a goddess bathed in holy light, maybe ask how she got a hold of you before you agree to anything.


    Who knows, you might be able to get a better deal.


    Maybe, two cheat powers?


    Also, just before I left, she looked off to the side and said. "What you look like to me is pretty nice too."


    Addendum:


    So Prada turns out to shoes, handbags, and stuff like that. Nice looking stuff, mostly black from what I saw. So her shoes might have been Prada.


    After Imogene read this she made me look at a bunch of color charts.


    Concern about my immortal soul, nope. Getting all upset about my ignorance about colors...


    Apparently, colors are a big thing for her father''s race, even the guys.


    Skin, Cinnamon. Blush, Rose red. Suit, Cornflower. Shirt, Buttercup. Or at least that¡¯s what I told her after doing a good impression of carefully thinking about it as I pretended to look at the color charts.


    Weird little hobbit girl.

 26) Somewhere, above the ocean…

    26) Somewhere, above the ocean¡­


    There is a tree growing in the middle of the Atlantic.


    At least in the middle of the North Atlantic, it¡¯s growing on one of the more shallow parts of the Mid-Atlantic ridge, the longest mountain chain on Earth even if it''s underwater.


    Still counts.


    Of course shallow is relative, the ground the tree is rooted in is about a mile down.


    Like I said, big, I would even call it Yggdrasilian, which is a good word to describe a really big tree.


    And the tree, with its photosensitive green bark and translucent leaves all the colors of the color charts, is one of those which grow entirely new trunks from the runners it grows out from its roots.


    According to the guy who planted it, the entire ridge from Greenland to the Cape of Good Hope might one day have giant trees growing out of the water from all along it.


    ¡°I am guiding the growth. The groves will be broken up so we don¡¯t crowd the islands where the ridge pokes above the water, or block the sea lands.¡±


    The planter is named Red Thorn, or Prickly as his wife calls him. He admits that sometimes she shortens by dropping the ¡°ly¡±, even when he feels he doesn''t deserve it.


    Red Thorn is someone I haven''t run into before.


    He was Taken from another world to ours.


    Voluntarily.


    ¡°My wife wanted to see her family again and to go home. I loved her enough to ask the World Tree to send me with her, that was enough to get her to finally agree bond with me. We even had two celebrations, one for our people back home, and one here for her people.¡±


    The deeply tanned man shrugged. ¡°We could afford it, there were no ridiculous rules about gold back then, and it is highly valued here.¡±


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He grinned and his deep blue eyes twinkled. ¡°And a Master of the Earth didn¡¯t have much trouble digging up a half ton of the stuff before we came here.¡±


    The two of us are sitting about three hundred feet above the water below us, me with my feet firmly on the platform made up of woven tree branches a few feet thick each and topped with living moss, and Red perched across a seven foot gap from me where on of the beaches leads off to what I would call a large hut made up of the same living plants.


    Red is more like a Druid from various games and books rather than what he insists should be called an Earth Master. But he doesn''t mind the label but don''t call him a Geomancer. "Those ones just deal in lifeless stone. Earth is a living thing, like that which grows from it.¡±


    Like his tree, which his group, Druids United calls Plato. Red is also in touch with the world itself, like you would expect of from a Druid.


    Red winced at the memory. ¡°Coming here, to this world¡­¡± He slowly shook his head. ¡°I could feel it screaming, dying. What in the nine burning hells were you people thinking?¡±


    Pluto is part of what the DU calls the Atlantis project. The tree was named for the philosopher who made up the concept of the lost Continent of Atlantis as a teaching concept, not anything objectively real.


    But it''s going to be real if no one stops them.


    "Pluto is a magical being purposely made for this world. It absorbs salt water into itself and bonds the salt, as well as microplastic particles into parts of its structure, so no matter how many trunks it grows it won¡¯t raise the sea level. And the water leftover will be drinkable.


    Oh yeah, Atlantis will be colonized.


    The tree is already large enough to support enough structures to house thousands, having been boosted by magic drawn off from Red''s home realm, and hidden by magic until it reached its current size.


    It¡¯s strong enough to deal with earthquakes and high enough to resist, and keep its inhabitants above, any storm driven waves.


    Besides salt and plastic, it''s also taking a lot of carbon out of the air Red explained. ¡°Maybe not enough to fix things by itself. But we already have several shoots whose branches are rising to the surface. Soon we will have enough of them for a true Arboreal city.¡±


    ...well then. ¡°How many people are you planning on living here.¡±


    He sighed. ¡°As many end up getting displaced by rising waters, and the storms which are coming. At least those who will come. Those who want clean water and cheap food. I doubt we will get all that many people from your country, but other places¡­¡±


    Shrugging, he continues. ¡°We have a lot of what other people desperately need, and aren''t getting.¡±


    I talked with Red for a bit longer. The Transparent leaves let a lot of sunlight through to what would normally be an entire ecosystem on the ground below, which made me ask, ¡°But with it being the ground being down more than a mile deep in most spots¡­¡±


    ¡°Magical coral, it will take years for it to grow along the roots and the underwater parts of the trunk, but it will serve as support for other plant life, both above and below the water. All as part of an environment that will provide edible plants and sea life, as well as places to live for those who fear heights.¡± He grinned.


    Of course, the people in power, as well as environmentalists, at least some of them, are upset.


    Red Spear doesn¡¯t mind.


    ¡°No one was listening to the people who were upset about how you were killing your world, so let people be upset. Let them rage, get them talking, and maybe some people will listen and hear what¡¯s really important.¡±


    He leaned forward on the branch he was sitting on. ¡°People talk about saving this world, I know how, and it isn''t costing anyone anything but the money they can make feasting on its death."


    So. the guy has strong opinions, as well as a big tree.


    But what¡¯s keeping someone from blowing it up, or taking it away from him?


    When I got home that night, by way of the little sister express, after she got done saying hello to the big tree by scampering all over it like a squirrel on a sugar rush, I found out.

 27) Mess around, and find out.

    Ttaa 27) Mess around, and find out.


    My sister was pretty angry. ¡°Why didn¡¯t they make more episodes, that show was so good.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Fox does that, if they don¡¯t understand why people like a show, they kill it.¡±


    She fumed. ¡°And the Whedon couldn¡¯t make more with someone else?¡±


    There didn''t seem a good reason to continue the conversation other than to let her vent, so, "Maybe in another world."


    I didn¡¯t know what I was setting off with that, but then I added ¡°He did make a movie though.¡±


    Her eyes lit up.


    ¡°A good one too. It felt real. The good guys win, but it doesn''t change anything. The villain has motives that a person would have rather than a cardboard cutout, and not everyone makes it."


    Her eyes went wide, ¡°Please say it''s Jane.¡±


    What the hell Hobbit? Jane is the best character, a man who regrets all morality, and still ends up feeling bad about some of the things he does because inside, there is a line he didn''t know about.


    I get that. I feel that.


    We watched the movie, she laughed at some parts I didn¡¯t expect, and was jumping up and down at the end of the final fight.


    And she cried.


    But in the end, she was just looking down at the hand knit throw blanket on her lap that I gave up so she could have something from our Grandmother.


    ¡°I¡¯m going to get in trouble for this.¡±


    I was a bit confused. Was she supposed to watch this with someone else? ¡°Is it a guy, because I¡¯m okay with that.¡±


    She gave me a baffled look. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°A girl¡­? I guess I¡¯m -¡±


    She began swatting at me with both hands. ¡°Shut up, this is serious.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    After she calmed down she explained. ¡°I found out about this by accident. They didn¡¯t want me to know, especially with you in my life.¡±


    She took a deep breath.


    ¡°That movie reminded me, of the part about how the people in power do things without caring about the consequences to others.¡±


    ¡°Eight months ago the people who think they get to do anything in this world found out there are people who can hold them accountable.¡±


    It went like this.


    One night, the rulers of every country that had any real power, and the people with the money and power to run things behind the thrones, all found themselves kidnapped in their sleep.


    Along with their wives, their children, their mistresses, their lovers, and everyone else they truly cared for.


    Not pets I understand. The kidnappers weren''t willing to sink that low.


    The kidnappers¡­ A bunch of the returnees.


    What they had to say, amounted to this.


    "We can get to you. No matter how much money, or how much power you think you have. We can get to you."


    ¡°In a week, we are going to do this again. To dispel any doubts you may have that this wasn¡¯t real, but instead some of kind of dream or illusion.¡±


    "Then again in a month, after you''ve had a chance to try to find us, or prevent us from taking you again whenever we want.¡±


    "There are now people in this world, who no matter how much power you have, no matter how much more power you can gather, don''t have to put up with the things you do to keep, and get that power."


    ¡°Cross us, and someone you care for will vanish off the face of the Earth.¡±


    ¡°Anger us, and you¡¯re gone.¡±


    They didn''t answer any questions, like what constituted crossing them, or what angered them. But I at last understand why I and all the people that I''ve talked to have been handled with kids'' gloves.


    Everyone who had something to gain by going after us, at least those at the top, are scared shitless.


    This explains some of the surprise retirements that have been happening, I guess some of these people are smart enough to know their normal activities would get them killed, and that if they stay in power they won¡¯t be able to resist themselves.


    Or they just want to avoid getting caught up in someone else''s activities.


    Like some of the people who had their retirements announced by others, I haven''t been able to find any evidence of what they¡¯ve been up to since then.


    Of course, these people who got told, ¡°Try us and find out¡± do have options.


    My sister for one.


    ¡°They wanted me to put Wards up all over the capital, but I only agreed to do the Senate, the House, and the Court. People are trying to work there, at least in theory.¡±


    She shook her head sadly. ¡°I won¡¯t do their homes though, I think some of them have taken to living in their offices.¡±


    ¡°As for the Pentagon, they are warriors, they shouldn¡¯t need me to guard them. Let them stand ready to defend the actions of the nation they serve.¡±


    She went silent again. Which made me ask. "The White House."


    Imogene turned to look me in the eye.


    ¡°Those without guilt sleep soundly, the leader of a nation should spend the time they lie awake in fear thinking about the things they did that might make someone want to hurt them, and why. I think for them that would be time well spent.¡±


    Yeah. And I hope she told that to the guy¡¯s face. He has begun to look like a man in need of a good night''s sleep.


    Maybe when he earns it.


    ¡°I¡¯m so proud of you. Hug time.¡±


    She tried and failed to fight me off, even though she could send me anywhere from out in the backyard to the top of Mt Everest with a wave of her hand, and then she complained that I smelled like stale burritos, but I knew it was just a show.


    Imo was shaking a bit, and hugged me back.


    Some in a position of power had put a scare in her once, and it had stuck.


    People with power they didn¡¯t earn can be little bitches when someone threatens it, and who knows if they might last out in frustration.


    So, you might want to copy and paste this somewhere, since who knows how long this is going to stay up.


    And if I ¡°retire¡± or die in a horrible accident, I just hope this is enough to go beyond just annoying those people who gave them a warning.


    Angry enough to clear them all out, and their little dogs too.

 28) I wasn’t expecting some kind of…

    Ttaa


    28) I wasn¡¯t expecting some kind of¡­


    So there has been a question that people have been trying to avoid answering, at least those whose answers would be official.


    Is someone who was reborn in another world still legally the same person they were on Earth?


    That question has finally come up in court.


    But it isn¡¯t a question of legal identity, or property that was inherited, but something else. It¡¯s coming at that question from another angle.


    Is it murder to kill someone if souls exist?


    If someone continues to exist even after their body has been damaged unit ll it is no longer functional, has their life ended? And has the person who damaged the body committed a crime that should be treated as worse than assault?


    Or would property damage be a better comparison?


    When the magic level of Earth reaches the point that bringing someone back to life is no worse than another expensive medical bill, there needs to be a precedent for questions like that. But rather than deal with a question of inheritance or legal identity, the powers that be decided to deal with the issue with a murder case.


    Simon Warrent died in prison for drug possession in a fight between two gangs over some conflict happening outside of the prison.


    Simon, who now styles himself Reznor the Black, was reborn in the form of a pale sickly child who grew up as the heir of a fallen noble house and mastered black magic with a focus on necromancy.


    When his activities led to him being tracked down by the authorities of his world, he murdered an entire town with a magical plague and used their deaths to power a ritual to take him back to Earth.


    Where he then proceeded to take out some payback on the people who had killed him in prison, members of their gang outside of the prison, their families, and some random people kidnapped off the streets to power his rituals.


    I¡¯m a little on the inside of all of this for two reasons.


    One, Reznor''s rituals reach out for help from some otherworldly dicks, and getting up to his old tricks let my Sister eventually zero in on him and lead a strike team to hit the old high school he had holed up in.


    Imogene was not happy with him.


    "The idiot had pulled the school out of reality and lodged it into to an unstable planer breach. He had to kill people just to keep it there. If he hadn''t taken shortcuts by ritual murder he could have just learned enough about magic to shield himself from most divinations and could have gone on doing whatever he wanted for years.¡±


    I nodded along with her, ¡°So the lesson is, don¡¯t be sloppy.¡±


    She shot me a mild glare, ¡°It¡¯s don¡¯t be Evil. Being evil is being lazy, and being lazy leads to being sloppy.¡±


    The other reason I got involved is because I¡¯ve become a little too well known.


    Imogen and several of her associates have created enough sufficiently tough magical wards on our house to keep the bad guys away, or even the good guys we don¡¯t know.


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    It also keeps the religious types and door to door annoyances away. But the mailman still shows up, as well as deliveries.


    Aside from the box with the plague roaches in it, I had to go pick those up since the delivery guy circled my block seven times without being able to find the address.


    But at the Otherworld Faire, people know me, and the people who came looking for me gave out such a ¡°Good Person¡± Aura that no one thought not to point me out to the group of knights in golden armor and immaculate white cloaks who then walked up to the edge of the practice field before settling in while looking over at me every now and then.


    My teacher tilted her head at them when we stopped for a breather. ¡°Friends of yours?¡±


    I glanced over to the guys with golden white auras leaking out in the magic spectrum which I could see. Their apparent leader, a big, almost seven foot tall, beefy guy made eye contact and shot me a happy smile.


    ¡°Never saw them in my life. I have to go over and talk to them don¡¯t I¡±


    She nodded. "They seem really nice, so better you than me."


    Look genuinely nice people are great, but they don''t know when to quit being nice, they end up making me feel like I''m not meeting the standards of being a decent person.


    So I gave the golden giant a nod, and held up one finger for him to give me a moment, while I began stripping off some of the protective gear and toweling off some of the worst of the sweat.


    He gave me a nod in return, then turned to shoo away some of the various people with him. Some of them protested while others seemed pretty eager to explore the explore the Faire.


    Well, for someone who just has to be an extrovert, at least he had good instincts.


    So I headed over while guzzling down some water, and replacing the cap as an excuse to not have to figure out if he came from someplace that shook hands.


    ¡°Jim Brenner. Can I help you with something?¡±


    He beamed, ¡°Yes. You see I¡¯m Signant Jorren with the Inquisition of Justice.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t expecting that.


    "I''ve come to this world in pursuit of a fugitive. Reznor the Black, only to find signs that he has already been taken into custody. Leaving me with the issue of trying to extradite him to face Justice back in our world. But I can¡¯t find anyone willing to receive our petition.¡±


    I blinked at him. ¡°Ah.¡±


    Okay, I can follow the logic trail. People here know who Imogene is and what she does, and that I¡¯m her brother, it¡¯s just figuring out the next step here and how I¡¯m involved¡­¡±


    I slowly raised a single finger as I stared blankly off into the distance, "Got it, mostly. This is just not what I was prepared to deal with right this moment and I need a second to figure out what¡¯s next.¡±


    He gave me a cheery nod and did the best thing he could at the moment.


    Looking away from me, he took a step back, shut up, and waited patiently.


    ¡°Okay, come with me. I have to call someone.¡±


    By the time I got to my bag, and pulled out my phone, he and his entire crew had closed in on me without crowding me, with two of them happily munching on turkey lets. Some of the people I had gotten to know at the Faire had also begun to gather around a little further out. As if ready to back me up.


    Good people.


    I checked my contact list for Secret Agent Mam.


    "Hi Jim."


    ¡°Special Agent. An Inquisition is here for the psycho who was killing people and turning them into zombies over in LA. The Inquisition is from the world he came from and they would like a piece of him as well.¡±


    One of Golden Boy''s people started to protest, but her boss waved her down.


    ¡°Can you give him your phone? I¡¯ll reimburse you for the charges.¡±


    I held the phone out and then backed well away.


    Their conversation went on for a bit and ended with my sister showing up in a swirl of dim white light spiraling out of a reddish core. She did a sort of curtsey toward the people in gold and white, then turned to come to say hi to me before wrinkling her nose at the smell of sweat and backing away. ¡°I¡¯ll see you tonight. This shouldn''t keep me since it¡¯s above my pay grade for once.¡±


    Golden Boy returned my phone. Imogen took them back to where she worked. Then I cleaned up and took the gate she had set up for me back to our backyard before I began cooking up the meat for Taco night.


    That should have been the end of it¡­


    But I was invited to the Inquire.


    The Special Judicial Tribunal decided to grant a petition of extradition rather than deal with the legal implications of reincarnation and redefining murder in the evidence of immortal souls.


    Maybe because they don¡¯t want to risk annoying the people who have made it know they are now in charge of our world, or maybe they just decided they would kick the can down the road for a bit in the hopes that someone else would have to take responsibility for making a decision.


    So, cowards, who aren''t doing their jobs either way.


    Addendum:


    The links down below are to their official web pages. While their positions on the Special Judicial Tribunal are not a secret, which is why I got to sit in on their session, they haven¡¯t made it public knowledge either.


    I just did.


    Let them know your opinions of the matters above, and how they are doing their jobs. And remember, each message you send them is figured to represent about a thousand other people who feel the same but not strongly enough to bother to send a message.


    Their sites have mailing addresses as well. Written messages count as ten thousand people.

 29) The House Guest

    Ttaa 29) The House Guest


    My sister sat down with me for dinner last night. It was what I call a kitchen floor sweeping salad, which was a little bit of everything leftover or soon to go bad thrown together. On top of lettuce.


    Before she dug in she glanced up at me a few times, looking nervous.


    I ignored her, focusing on my salad while making Mmm Mmm sounds rather than give her an opening to start talking about whatever it was that she felt unsure talking about.


    She kicked me, then crossed her arms and glared.


    Sighing, I gave in. ¡°Whatever could it be that you wish to speak about my dear, sweet, gentle, sister?¡±


    I twisted my legs aside this time.


    She sighed. "Are you alright with someone staying with us for a while?"


    Thinking it over, I guess I could crash on the couch for a bit since we didn¡¯t have a guest room.


    "Maybe more than a while¡­"


    I blinked while she looked off to the side, looking a little upset for some reason.


    ¡°I guess we could set up a guest room downstairs¡­¡±


    She glared. ¡°They would be staying in my room.¡±


    ¡°But¡­¡± I was going to ask where she would sleep, but the dime finally dropped.


    ¡°Oh, does he¡­ they, have a name.¡±


    Imogne¡¯s eyes went all shiny. "Alzara. She''s an Arcanist."


    Which I had to get her to explain since she had a few dozen different names for various sorts of magic. I for instance was a Bard, but she insisted that I was a Ritualist that just happened to use music as my medium.


    She also refused to acknowledge the inherent sexiness of using music to do magic, but I let it go since she was my sister and it made her uncomfortable if I pushed that joke too far.


    My sister who had a lover moving in with us.


    Even if that was something that might bother me, I would get over it. I like having her here, and I think she needed to be around me, and her family. To have a home.


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    I would put up with what she called. "A multi-disciplined magical theorist."


    So¡­ Nerd. Magic nerd. Called it. But I was thinking it was someone who had started learning magic here on Earth or a returnee who had learned magic elsewhere that my sister had met through work.


    Not from Earth.


    But she wasn¡¯t a returnee... or human.


    Alzara was about a foot taller than my sister, built sort of lanky, and covered in gleaming dark yellow, or amber as the color chart Imo demanded I consult, and black scales.


    She also had long flat tendrils in both darker and lighter colors in place of hair, and golden, metallic golden eyes, but with round pupils like a mammal.


    Her chest was also pretty mammalian as well, so I don''t know what''s going on with that.


    She was also nervous as hell, almost to the point of shaking as Imogene stood by her with her arm around the girl¡¯s back and glared at me.


    Well, she had made me promise to be good, but¡­


    ¡°Alzare. You¡¯re acting so nervous you¡¯re making me nervous. Sit down and I¡¯ll get you some water.¡±


    She sat. I got a glass of water and a salt shaker.


    Sitting next to Imogene on the couch she seemed a little ashamed as the two of them whispered to eat others. I sat on the crate like chest on wheels we had as a coffee table and held out the water while holding up the salt shaker.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a tradition in this part of the world, but it is the most symbolic one I''ve heard of. There are some people who live in the desert who offer water and salt to welcome guests to their home for three days and hold their duty as hosts as sacred.¡±


    I handed her the glass of water and gestured for her to hold out her hand as I held up the shaker.


    She let out a little laugh and let me sprinkle a dash of salt into her palm which she licked up with a flicker of her little pink forked tongue.


    ¡­so cute. When she got to know me well enough it wasn¡¯t bullying I was going to have so much fun with her.


    If fact, why wait?


    "Did¡­ Did you polish yourself to meet me today?"


    You can''t really blush with scales, but your eyes can go wide and you can stop breathing.


    You can also have your girlfriend chase her brother around the room with a flying solid metal staff while she comforts you and yells, ¡°You promised me you wouldn¡¯t be a jerk!¡±


    I yelled from where I had locked myself in the bathroom. The staff would have taken down my bedroom door, but its master needed the bathroom door. "I lied. I¡¯m a guy, you know we do that.¡±


    So Alzara has been one of a group of students in the girl''s wing of a collage of magic who used a ritual she had slapped together to call for help as her school''s defenses began to fail in the void between worlds.


    Something had thrown her whole school there. She had no clue what.


    Imogen sensed the call and answered. But she only had one real option as to where to take the four hundred survivors from the school.


    Her workplace, which now had to find long term housing for over four hundred collage aged magic students of several dozen different races.


    Whatever had cast the school into the void had completely severed any way for Imogen to track down their home world and return them.


    So until she figured it out, they needed sponsors.


    In a way, it''s like the place trying to find adoptive parents for otherworld children, but instead of cute kids, it was mainly girls in their equivalent of their late teens or early twenties.


    Collage Coed Monster Girls.


    Sounds like an Anime, or at least a bad translation of one.


    I stared blankly at my sister as that realization hit me, and I began to laugh.


    Imo made me explain, then I showed her some links to the various manga and anime dealing with the trope.


    She turned from my computer and gave me a look of horror. ¡°I didn¡¯t! We¡¯re just trying¡­¡±


    Then she smacked me on the shoulder and had to explain what we were on about to her mail order girlfriend who had wandered in from the living room to find out what was going on.


    I had to go buy her a laptop of her own to get my computer back. Alzara liked to read and they didn''t have the concept of comics back in her home world.


    After getting Imogene on the phone I got some groceries too. We had an extra mouth to feed and I needed to find out if she had any dietary restrictions. Or if she needed live mice.


    Lactose intolerant. Not even a race thing, just her. I got something called Sorbet after checking and finding out that Sherbert had dairy in it. I mean, why bother with Sherbert at all if it has dairy, just get real ice cream.

 30) Shouldn’t this be about what’s best for the kid?

    30) Shouldn¡¯t this be about what¡¯s best for the kid?


    Thomas Wesson is a cute kid.


    His skin color is a few shades lighter than his mom''s which is to be expected since as far as his mother knew her her husband was white.


    The only thing is that while lighter in shade, the kid¡¯s skin is a sort of brick red color.


    Similar to what his father really looks like after he got taken and reborn as an Infernal.


    Which is why Thomas has the red colored skin, the two fuzzy little knobs where his horn are going to grow in, and the long sharp midnight blue colored nails on his hands and feet, that match his kidney shaped dark blue eyes.


    Just like his father¡¯s, at least when his father drops the glamour that makes him look human, something he never bothered to do around his girlfriend until she was so far along in her pregnancy that she had to carry Thomas to term.


    Which, Jolene Turner says, "Is what pisses me off the most. He didn''t give me a choice. I mean, I knew I was going to have a mixed raced baby, but this is a different species."


    Technically she might be right, but since she, a human, and Wayne, the father who was an Infernal had managed to have a kid together, the lines defining what different species were a little hazy at best.


    Wayne Wesson is the one who called me in, I think more for damage control than any real desire to get interviewed.


    "I was over there for seven years, drafted into a war against my will. All I ever wanted to do was get home and get my life back." He waved his hand at himself at a few inches above six feet of bright red skin, blue horns, talons, and goat eyes.


    Along with the spade tipped tale and hoofed feet which his son didn¡¯t inherit.


    ¡°I¡¯m stuck like this. I can¡¯t go back to being human, not really, but I could fake it. At least with most people.¡± He gave me a disgruntled look. ¡°I could have faked being human for my entire life, and been happy. But I didn¡¯t think about birth control, I didn¡¯t think I needed to.¡±


    He waved one hand at himself again. "How is this supposed to have a kid with a human being.¡±


    Wayne has been kicked out of the house he co owned with Jolene, but which he paid for in its entirety with the loot he hauled back home with him. But with the money he got from the same source he has already bought another house.


    "And yes, I have paid my taxes on everything I brought back home with me. Including the new import taxes, both on what I sold off since they introduced those and on what I had already sold off as a sign of goodwill. Just because I got mine doesn''t mean I don''t want to pay my fair share."


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    The problem, or at least one of them, is that Wayne feels that Jolene is asking for more than her fair share in the divorce.


    "She wants the house, she can have the house. She wants alimony and child support, it''s all hers. I¡¯m good for it. But she asking for my new house and more than half of everything I not only have but brought back with me, even though we weren''t married when I got home."


    He shook his head sadly. ¡°I don¡¯t even think it''s just her being vindictive, although she refused to agree to shared custody, but with the money, she''s just outright being greedy."


    Other than the whole Infernal and human spin, it sounds like a typical divorce, but then there¡¯s


    the other complications.


    The protesters that show up everywhere little Thomas goes.


    Outside his home, his hospital, even following Jolene around when she tries to run errands.


    I guess Thomas is close enough to matching up with all the identifiers for being the Antichrist, at least for this bunch.


    I tried to interview them, but even the ones that weren''t outright crazy got a look in their eyes that tells me their getting something out of calling for a baby to be harmed.


    Wayne doesn''t stay at his new home much, instead, he is keeping an eye, invisibly, on his kid as much as he can.


    From a hundred feet away.


    Wayne explained. ¡°It¡¯s bullshit, just because I look like this they granted her a restraining order. I haven¡¯t hurt her, or even threatened her, ever. Not before I got taken or after. Hell I haven¡¯t hurt anyone since I got back and I¡¯ll admit with some of the people calling for my kid to be killed, it¡¯s hard to hold back.¡±


    With his ability to disguise himself, and turn invisible, I don¡¯t think it would be hard for Wayne to do something to the people who want to hurt his kid. And¡­


    Well¡­ My personal opinions on this matter are a little biased. I don¡¯t have much tolerance for anyone who wants to hurt a kid just because they¡¯re only half human.


    I have a sister. A half sister. A half human sister.


    If anyone called for her death just because she don¡¯t look entirely human. Well, I¡¯ve learned a few things over the last fourteen months about how to solve problems with the right tools and a willingness to do harm.


    Then theirs the other issue.


    Her Imperial Termitrix, Queen of the Damned of Extroil, Grebela Harkon Grimmfang. First of her name and sole ruler of seven infernal Planes¡­


    Wants to visit her grandson.


    I went to hell for this interview. Imogene provided the transportation and the paperwork.


    Yeah, we have that now. You¡¯ll need a special stamp for your passport.


    Her infernalness laughed when I mentioned my opener about visiting hell. "Oh please, there are many Hells, this one is called Sulfuric Glades. My ad people suggested after we got access to your internet since I¡¯ve taken an interest in your world.¡±


    The eight foot tall void of darkness in the shape of a woman grinned, showing off her metallic teeth.


    "And in just a few years I will be able to visit for more than a few minutes at a time, but Thomas will only be this little a for a few months. I want to, and will, hold him while he is still small enough to eat him up in one bite.¡±


    She leaned forward on her throne of skulls and blades. ¡°Or the brood mother will suffer along with all of those in your ''State Department''"


    No greater fury than a Grandma scorned.


    I hope she was joking about the eating him up bit.


    It turns out that it only takes an Infernal five years, local time, for an Infernal to mature after hatching. And most of them are savage little monsters up until the age of one which is why their species lay dozens of eggs all at once.


    Wayne, who was hatched with most of his memories available right from the start, organized his brothers and sisters to keep them from killing and eating each other and instead led them on raids until their mother came along to collect the survivors.


    Temitrix ¡°Call me Greby¡± Grimmfang laughed. ¡°Normally I get two or three kids surviving out of a hatching who all still want to kill each other, this time I got eighteen little darlings who all have each other''s backs." She shook her head in bewilderment with a big smile on her event horizon lips. "Even against me. I am so looking forward to seeing what they will do once they get out of battle school, even if Wayne dropped out.¡±


    Now what was a relatively simple messy divorce complicated by money being involved, now involves interdimensional diplomacy, possible incursions from a Grandmother who isn¡¯t used to hearing the word ¡®no¡±, and our own religious extremists.


    But at least with the world as it is now, something else should come along soon to distract everyone.

 31) Relations

    31) Relations


    I think I might be making my sister jealous.


    Her girlfriend hates to leave the house, at least with Imogene. Unless it''s somewhere Azara is already familiar with as a place where she can be accepted for her appearance.


    Even though she can use her magic to fake looking like a slender girl with a nice tan, some abstract tattoos that match the black pattern of her scales, and dark blonde hair with streaks, she still hates going out in public.


    Except when I ask her if she wants to head out with me, even though I refuse to take her anywhere with an illusion up. They still bug the hell out of me even when I know who is behind one. Instead, we just tell people she''s Cosplaying.


    It¡¯s not like Imogene makes her girlfriend wear one with her, and Aza will go out when Imogene is going out with us. But not when it¡¯s just her and my sister.


    Which of course means Imo is mad at me. Because, for women reasons, I guess. Somehow it makes sense in her mind that I¡¯m the one at fault.


    So last night after my sister came home, I took her by the shoulders, lifted her up, and carried her into the living room.


    For a moment she looked a little scared, and only after I had carried her along for a bit did she start to look pissed. I don¡¯t think she ever really understood how much difference there is in the strength of a human male and one of her father¡¯s race which from looking at her must be a bunch of little guys.


    After setting her down, and turning around to find her staff looming over me as if it was trying to stare me down, I locked eyes with Azara who had come out of the basement when she heard Imo called out she was home and was now staring at me wide eyed.


    I pointed at the couch I had set Imo down in front of. "Sit. All three of us are going to talk."


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    She sat. Imogene glared and crossed her arms at me until her staff poked her behind her one knee and then spun around to shove her over onto the couch before she could catch her balance.


    A win for the guy''s team.


    ¡­of course, a staff is a guy. A staff? An upright solid shaft? You can''t get much more of a symbol of masculinity than that.


    I crossed my arms as well and I frowned at both of them.


    "What the hell is going on? You two. Talk. Now. Or no tacos."


    See Brother Jude. I¡¯ve been learning about communication. And they both liked tacos.


    So what it came down to, was that I was scarier them my sister. Or at least scarier looking.


    Well, yeah. I¡¯m a guy.


    Azara explained it to Imo. ¡°It¡¯s not just that Jim is so big. He carries himself like a warrior, you hesitate because you want to fit in, and he always looks like he''s ready to hurt someone. Other than when he looks at you or me. He''s always on guard.¡±


    ¡°I know I¡¯m safe with you, I know what you can do Imo. But I feel safer out around other humans with him because they suspect what he will do. They just see you as another girl, and a small, maybe not human one as that.¡±


    She looked up at me shyly. ¡°Besides, if he defends me, someone will only get hurt. If you decide to defend me, someone is going to suffer, or die.


    I had to think that one over, and I think that¡¯s fair. If someone tried something with Azara, I would defend her, she''s my house guest and my sister''s girlfriend. But if someone tried something with Imogne¡­


    I¡¯d do something to make sure they kept on regretting it long after they healed.


    I realized they were both staring at me. Aza turned and pointed at Imo, ¡°You see, you get that same slyly eager look when I talk about being scared to go out around humans.¡±


    Imo protested, I laughed, then jumped back out of her reach as she leaned forward to try to swat at me.


    ¡°Good talk, group hug.¡¯


    Azara was a good hugger, I think maybe because she always felt a little cold, and Imo never passed up a chance to hug her girlfriend even if I was in there as well.


    Little sister is also pretty huggy with her friends from work, at least the women she¡¯s brought home with her for movie nights. Is she hesitant to hug me because I''m a guy? Did her dad never hug her?


    Probably. From what I¡¯ve picked up he sounded like a dick, and still somehow the best of his people¡¯s impersonal prickly bunch that our mom was willing to hook up with.


    I wonder if I¡¯ll ever meet him. Even with the time ratio his race is pretty long lived.


    So now I get to take Azara out and even introduce her to people, from what friends I kept in contact with, to the neighbors who¡¯ve seen her through the windows and have been wondering what¡¯s been going on, to even going to the library on the weekends where Azara has started reading stories from her world to the kids.


    She wanted to be a teacher, which is why she trained as a generalist in magic, maybe she can do that here too.

 32) Otherworld horrors

    Ttaa 32) Otherworld horrors.


    Returnees often bring stuff back with them.


    Wealth, tools, books, and other gear. And sometimes friends, lovers, and even children.


    A guy I¡¯m going to call Farmer John from the Worldsfair brought back a lot of seeds, and even cuttings and potted plants. Some of which he was able to grow to seed her and I got some of those plants growing in my back yard, which are not only tasty but are raising the background amount of magic in my neighborhood according to Aza.


    But she assured me that it wouldn''t do something like create a spirit from the oak tree down the street or anything else like that.


    Not for years from now at least.


    But carefully chosen domesticated plants are one thing, animals are another.


    Yesterday I attended the grand opening of the Little Shoppe of Harold¡¯s.


    They have dragons, for sale.


    The owner held up a tiny winged lizards in the palm of his hand, it looked up from where it had been gnawing on his thumb up at me and let out a few chirping sounds.


    The older looking man with solid blue glowing eyes smiled. "They aren''t real dragons, or at least dragons claim they aren''t. They are only about as smart as an ape, and other than hoarding, they make great pets. Very popular where I come from, but you do want to get their venom sacks clipped if you don''t want them spraying other animals or people they don''t like."


    Venom. ¡°How dangerous is it?¡±


    He set the dragon back in a large fish tank with about another dozen similar creatures in a variety of bright colors. Sort of like beta fish but are able to mix in and play fight around the old Fisher Price castle play set in there with them.


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    The owner shrugged. "About the same as pepper spray, so painful, but no permanent harm. Other than to fabrics, it can bleach colors out if you don''t wash them quick."


    Harold Abelard is pretty cagey when it comes to talking about himself. The store isn¡¯t in his name on the legal papers, but that of a holding company, which is about as far as my skill set or curiosity was willing to follow up on him.


    He won¡¯t say if he¡¯s a returnee, of an immigrant. Instead, he only admits that he has spent time on Earth and several other worlds. And that he¡¯s collected pets from all of them.


    He does in fact have pets for sale even from Earth. Some actual Beta fish, along with transparent slugs keep their tanks clean without the bred to be psychotically violent fish getting triggered to attack them.


    While those are on the back shelf, and the dragon, or dragonets as I suggested, are the main attraction, he had several other types of animal for sale.


    Kittens with feathered wings that he calls Spinxes, for which I suggested Kitty Hawks. Brightly colored fuzzy spiders the size of small dogs, and as playful, even playing fetch when Harold took one of them out of their enclosure and had me play with it.


    "The Octibles are great pets, a lot like dogs and much tougher than tarantulas, but I haven''t had much in the way of sales, no matter how much some of the kids fall in love with them.¡±


    I hate the name he came up with, but I don¡¯t have a better suggestion.


    Although I am tempted by the Ursins, small guinea pig sized bears with blue fur, I had to pass despite Harold¡¯s offer of taking one for free. I can¡¯t really commit to taking care of a pet, and¡­


    "I don''t see how anyone can count on keeping any of these. Invasive species are a big issue, and if a breeding pair of any of these guys gets loose¡­ Well, I think they might all get rounded up soon and I''m not sure how much longer it''s going to be before you get shut down."


    Harold''s eyes narrowed as he gave me a grin. "Ah, but that''s why I called you in Mr. Brenner and offered you a free pet. Your post about how the top level people of your world were warned has already begun trickling down the ranks of power, and now the word is out on all levels.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe anyone is going to interfere in my business anytime soon. And these are all very well behaved pets. I doubt there will be any problems.¡±


    I did take home a sort of plant. It¡¯s more of a service animal that can move around a bit, slowly, as it pretends to be a flowering vine that puts out a faint smell of blood, and then feeds on the mosquitoes and house flies that settle down in the mouths that look like flowers. You have to bring them indoors for the winter when they go dormant, but you don¡¯t have to feed them, just put them in a sunny spot.


    Harold calls them Venus Fly Hunters, can¡¯t argue with that.


    The only issue with them is that I might have to carefully pull it away from its perch and carry it back to my yard if it slowly creeps off of my property, but since the only ones he''s selling are the males, I don''t have to worry about¡­. Puppies? Poppies? Podling?


    Imo later found the catalog Harold sent along with me and now she wants a Minicorn, a beagle sized pony looking thing the color of a golden retriever with a single spiral shaped horn.


    "Are you going to clean up after it, because you know I''ll walk around whatever it drops for days at a time rather than get bothered enough to clean up the mess?"


    Imo glared, rolled her eyes, and stomped off to complain about me to her girlfriend, who didn¡¯t want the responsibility of a pet either.


    She knows me, and that I would ignore the stink, she was in the house before I cleaned it up for her to live here, and she knows what I consider good enough to call it clean.

 33) Supersuit

    33) Super Suit.


    He called himself Nexus, and it was a good description of how his powers work.


    He called me Lictor, because¡­


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but I worked with your analog in one world often enough to recognize you, even without the mask.¡±


    Apparently, in some nearby universe, one that split off from ours in the late eighties, I, or rather, a version of me, is a superhero.


    Although his description of a man who used an ax on people sounded more like a serial killer.


    He held his hands up at whatever look I was giving him. ¡°From what I picked up you were one of the few artificial ones that didn¡¯t go hopelessly insane, but you, sorry, he, was pretty intense.¡±


    ¡°Grim?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, you both just have this, serious but sad thing going on. Not as bad as him, but that¡¯s still the word that jumped into my head when I met him. One of me is a poet and I assure you that the word fits.¡±


    Nexus is a man in his mid twenties, although it is a little hard to tell with his bright blue mask that covers his entire head other than two eye shaped white spots.


    Very comic book like, but real.


    "I sent it over from the world with superpowers, it''s some sort of hi-tech fabric. Surprisingly breathable while also bullet resistant.¡±


    Something happened in his world that gave people superpowers starting around the time the planets all lined up back in the eighties. No one knows what it was that caused it, but one day people all over the world who had experienced traumatic, or even just deeply emotional events, would just get superpowers.


    The man dressed up in a black pin striped suit over the neon blue full body super suit waved a hand at me from where he sat at the table on the terrace of my hotel''s room that he had reached through a shimmer of blue light in the air for his interview.


    "Even though people started getting powers the same day as the convergence, a lot of people still ended up being born with the same names, and the same faces for several years afterwards. The Butterfly effect takes a lot longer to kick in than people theorized, it was almost ten years before all newborns started being different from the other timelines.¡±


    Nexus is the expert on that, since he lives in thirty four different versions of Earth, all at once.


    That¡¯s one of his powers, the ability to link the minds of all of his alternate selves from every alternate world they live in all together into a group mind.


    And to share the superpower that only exists in one world with all of them.


    I don''t think that there are only thirty four different versions of Earth out there in which he was born, but that''s all his powers link him to. Maybe the various worlds have to be different enough by some measure for his powers to work.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    In one world he¡¯s a middling ranked superhero, in thirty three others, he¡¯s the only one.


    At least to start.


    ¡°We got a whole team going now. Treant, Illumina, Aesir, although the newspapers are calling him Norseman, which annoys him to no end. We also almost got a lizard person with an enchanted baseball bat her brought back with him signed up.¡±


    "Our consultants want me to talk him into the name ''Batter Up'' but he wants to go with ''Scales of Justice'' which is cool, but I think he knows it will just get shortened to ''Scales'' which is what he''s been going by already."


    Consultant? Yep. This is a professional organization, at least in terms of getting paid.


    ¡°I want the team to be independent of government money. I can bring things over here from the alternate worlds, like tech that hasn¡¯t been made here, and films and TV shows that didn¡¯t get canceled, or never got made.¡±


    ¡°But that can get complicated since the people and companies who made them there mostly also exist here.¡±


    Nexus went still for a moment, then clasped his hands together.


    ¡°But I recently linked up with an alternative on a world where that voice didn¡¯t get stopped, the one that spoke to the whole world. At least not at first.¡±


    "I got a class called Traveler there and more money in hard coin than I know what to do with. It¡¯s legitimately mine and I can move it where it will help, but not just here. So getting some toy contracts, public appearances deals, sponsorships, as long as it¡¯s on our terms I want whatever I can get to help fund this.¡±


    He leaned back and crossed his legs, fingers pressed in front of him. ¡°Not just in New York either, we have a lot of people with powers out there. People are used to doing something when others need help. People who don''t stand by while evil prospers, but are ready to get after evil, and most likely get hardcore about it.¡±


    "It''s what their lives on other worlds have trained them to do. Kill the monsters, defeat the demon king, and denounce the corrupt and the wicked in positions of power over others.¡±


    He shook his head slowly. ¡°I think it would be much better to get things organized, regulated, and authorized before too many more people go vigilante.¡±


    "I like the idea of Batman, but the real world doesn''t have writers that make sure his mistakes don''t ruin lives. Just being the good guy doesn''t mean you can''t screw up."


    I gave him a look. ¡°Including you.¡±


    He threw his hands out to either side. "Including me, but then, I have thirty three other mes looking over my shoulder. Judging my actions, giving advice, shipping over healing potions, I got options."


    Besides being linked to his other selves, Nexus can send himself, others, and things to other places, which can be handy.


    ¡°Bank robbers with suicide vests on the hostages. Me and my other selves can target up to thirty three of them at once, moving them to safety, and leaving the bomb vest behind. Taking the robber''s guns and the detonators is pretty easy too."


    More than that, he''s fast.


    "I can travel from world to world, and in each world I can operate outside the normal rules, not just moving through space, but altering how fast time passes for me. In a lot of ways I''m like the Flash, but I don''t have to run from place to place, just go where I want to go and have plenty of time to decide what I want to do there."


    With most of what he wanted to say, I got to ask my questions.


    "How do you justify stepping in? I mean, I get it. Someone has too. But other people are going to ask besides me, and I think you''ve been expecting the question at some point. So here it is, being asked without an agenda.¡±


    He slowly nodded. "Yeah, for me, it''s like you said, someone has to step up, and I have the training."


    ¡°And its training from a world where Superheroes have been around for over thirty years. But even more so, it¡¯s because sooner or later someone is going to do this, and if I do it first, I set the standard.¡±


    And that seems a good high point to end the official interview.


    Addendum:


    But I had another question. This one for myself.


    ¡°The world that the System was able to do its thing. What happened to me?"


    Nexus hesitated as he began to stand up.


    ¡°It¡¯s more like what you did to the system, Prophet.¡±


    He looked down.


    ¡°I was there with you at the end, and I¡¯m so sorry¡­ that me there was still new to having my powers. I wasn¡¯t fast enough.¡±


    Later, he sent me the picture of the statue they put up over there. A block of stone, gray, my height and set up on the top of a more ornate pedestal as his mother insisted.


    With his last known words, at least the ones that got reported, carved into the stone.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if we can win, or even survive.¡±


    ¡°None of us do. But all of us still choose to come here, and try.¡±


    ¡°This is who we decided to be.¡±


    -Jim Brenner

 34) Staff Meeting

    34) Staff Meeting


    When I got home earlier tonight, my sister''s staff was floating in front of her bedroom door. Which worked as her sock on the doorknob to let me know that she and her girlfriend didn¡¯t want to be disturbed.


    Which is fine, I would have to finish the three leftover double chocolate chip cookies I had snagged that Neal¡¯s mom had sent to the meeting all on my own.


    Really, the sound dampening spell and the ward Alzara had put on their door were enough to keep me from bothering them, the real reason the staff was hanging around, or hovering around, was that they kicked it out when they had their private time.


    I never knew why, in fact, I never even asked what was going on with the staff. Ever, and I had never even thought about the fact that I had never thought about it.


    Which now annoys me to no end, I thought I had a pretty good resistance to mind magic, but then had never dealt with an Archmage before.


    Even a dead one.


    Heading back into my room with three cookies and a mug of fat free milk, I noted the transparent man sitting in my computer chair holding the staff in his hand, but I¡¯ve gotten so used to weirdness that all I thought was, ¡°Hey, I was going to sit there.¡±


    Then it slowly dawned on me that a transparent man sitting in my computer chair and holding my sister''s big ass metal staff was something I was going to have to acknowledge as something I had to deal with instead of getting online while I had my snack.


    The see through man had the golden skin and eyes that Imogene only had a touch of, the oversized double pointed ears that must have ended up looking like Vulcan or elf ears for her, and pale blueish gray hair hanging in a braid down to his waist.


    Besides being what I was guessing was whatever Imo''s dad''s race was, and transparent, the guy was old.


    And a little guilty looking.


    ¡°Ahsi Robiat. Brother to my daughter once removed. We should talk.¡±


    I juggled the three cookies into the same hand as my mug of milk in order to push the clean clothes off of the old chair next to my closet where Alzara put them and hand a seat.


    She had wanted to contribute, so I let her do the laundry, which she used the machine for, as well as the ironing and mending, which she used magic for, but I refused to let her put my stuff away in my room.


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    I had stuff in some of those drawers not meant for anyone¡¯s eyes except for my own.


    Yes, some porn, but also my attempt at poetry and writing songs that have never gotten shown to anyone else, not even the girls who had inspired some of it, and never tossed out either.


    Since my sister does read this. No Imo, they aren''t still there, stay out of my room if you want me to stay out of yours.


    So I dunked a cookie into the milk, took a bite, chewed, and swallowed before chasing it with a sip of the thin watery drink of sadness that is skim milk.


    ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    The man nodded and looked away for a moment before lifting his head to stare me in the eyes.


    "I am an imprint of the Archmage who brought your mother to a place in which she gained the power to cure the sickness that was killing her."


    ¡°Doing so was not his goal, only a healer of her ability could save the life of his son and heir, he took her for that purpose only. Without any thoughts of returning her, or foreknowledge that taking her would save her life as well.¡±


    I stared at the imprint and then dunked another cookie.


    It waited patiently until I finished it. "Other than dragging her off to another world without consent, did he mistreat her?"


    It shook its head. "To the contrary, he ordered that his people were to give her everything she wanted or could use¡­ Wealth, training, protection. Even before she took to keeping him alive after the damage he did to himself in bringing her across worlds. The damage that in the end, combined with his age, killed him.¡±


    I ate the last cookie.


    ¡°How did he treat Imogene.¡±


    The imprint smiled. ¡°She was his every delight. Even to the point of hastening his own death in order to create me to guide and protect her after he was gone.¡±


    The old man looked a the staff in his hand. ¡°She has not forgiven him yet, or by extension, me.¡±


    Swirling the last of the milk around in my mug, I was pleased to see a few cookie encrusted chocolate chips on the bottom that I caught up in the last gulp of milk as I finished it up.


    "Could he have done more?"


    The virtual grandfather looked aside, "I beloved he called in what favors he could to get her into the shadow guard long before she came of age. She grew up so much faster than¡­ as a child of two worlds. Her father would have blocked it if she could."


    He glanced up at me. "He could have raised his son, Imogene''s father, to have been a better man, a worthy father. In that, he failed her. He had words with his son shortly before he died, and they did not meet again.¡±


    I set my mug on my dresser, fully intending to return it to the kitchen before the milk that was always leftover collected and dried up in the bottom. It clinked up against the last mug I had intended to do that with.


    ¡°Why now?¡± Then I stared at it.


    It figured out the implied question. Why reveal himself to me now? Why not before? What had changed?


    It leaned forward in my chair and then tapped the side of its nose.


    "We Imprints don''t last forever. There are some things I can teach you before I fade, and some stories about your sister that the Archmage and her mother would have wanted her brother to hear. "


    ¡°Stories she would never share, for the sheer embarrassment. Stories she would never think to mention for being those of her childhood.¡±


    It sighed. ¡°Stories that her mother never told her, but would want you to know.¡±


    The first thing we talked about, it how much it might impact our girl when the last remnant of the family she grew up with, the imprint, went away.


    After that, we talked long into the night.


    The first of what could be many late nights ahead of me.


    Nights my sister would be spending with her teenage snake girl while I had to settle for the ghosts of grandfather''s past.


    At Least I was getting plenty of blackmail information out of it.

 24) Invasion

    Chapter 24) Invasion


    I doubt that there is anyone who hasn¡¯t heard about the invasion of Japan by now and will likely have to hear about it many more times in the future.


    After all, it''s not like it going to be the last time our world gets targeted.


    Some people are calling it the day the world changed. But I got new for them, the world changes every day, it''s just on that day that they noticed, and had to acknowledge it.


    This is my take on it.


    Some people said that of course, they would choose Japan to invade. Japan is the place that loved Isekai stories so much they named the genre.


    But I think was more that Japan was a relatively small, densely populated, industrial country with only a limited military defense force.


    One that was surrounded by hostile, weak, or both countries which would not or could not come to their aid, and their closest ally the US, was already over committed to helping out other countries that weren''t even officially allies of ours or dealing with our own problems.


    So, plenty of loot, weak defenses, and standing alone. And a chain of islands to boot.


    I doubt there was a better target for the Auric Empire. Hit them hard with a gate in every major city, then sweep out to the shores in all directions.


    The Auric Empire had spread across dozens of worlds due to being able to sync up with different time frames. New Orsim, the world they invaded from had only started mixing gunpowder weapons with alchemy when they got overrun thirty years ago and had only given up their resistance in the last generation.


    The Auric had taken and killed hostages to get the last of them to give up.


    They were not nice people. I¡¯d like to think that to someone looking at us from the outside, Earth looked nice. We aren''t, but sometimes we try.


    But nice is not weak.


    Tokyo, Osaka, Nagoya, Yokohama, and the old capital of Kyoto were the five cities they targeted as breach points.


    We, the United States, turned out to not be the only nations to organize a defense against people from other worlds.


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    Remember, Japan named the Genre. The people who run the place grew up on those stories. They had effectively spent at least the last two generations gaming scenarios about what might be coming at them one day.


    Osaka had an entire boarding school of returnees of various levels of power. All of them responded to the Seventh Orc Calvary as they rode out of their gate, cutting people down in the streets. The kid calling himself Raiden was the first to arrive.


    Lightning is hot enough to turn the moisture in anything it hits to steam, trees struck from the sky tend to blow up because of this. Orcs¡­ made more of a mess.


    Cell phone cameras showed the lighting crackling around people with touching them to hit the invaders, the kid¡¯s control is that good. Either that or that lighting is alive in some way.


    Could be both.


    Kyoto had three story tall Mechas with glowing crystals sticking out of their backs. I¡¯m not sure what that was about, but considering they came in five familiar looking colors I half suspected them to combine somehow.


    Nagoya, well, the phone shots seemed to show the city itself coming to life. The pavement of the streets swallowed up Legionaries in full body armor. Trees uprooted themselves and rushed the gate for our first counterattack against another world, dozens of flowering Sakura trees made it through before the gate closed from the other side.


    Yokohama didn''t have much in the way of defenders, not until a supposedly abandoned industrial city called Battleship Island opened up its own gate to the city with another one opened up to a military base and armored vehicles began to pour through.


    Bullets don¡¯t go through magic armor, but the force of it can still kill dark elves from the impact. Shoot enough of them and even the Auric Empire¡¯s elite Shadow Guardians will go down.


    In Tokyo¡­


    Remember Orihime Takana, or to be correct, Takana Orihime?


    It¡¯s Shogun Takana now. High Commander of the Sakura Guard. Liege lady of Battleship Island.


    The Summoner.


    The Yokai of Japanese lore had only been waiting for someone to make them real. To call them from stories, and to feed them live screaming meat.


    The Shogun was able to call up a whole lot of them with the promise of a feast, then lead them to the gate the invaders had opened up with Japan¡¯s capital.


    It closed before she reached it.


    My sister was wearing a white porcelain mask my mother had painted half black with a yellow moon on the forehead. She had kept it even after it had gotten broken, I had no idea that Imogene had fixed it. Or that she had made allies in other countries.


    I guess she was really committed to the whole protected the Earth bit.


    She¡¯s a dimensional mage, tearing the gate in Tokyo back open and letting Shogun Takana take her horde of skittering, hopping, and giggling Yokai with blood stained hands and mouths to give the leadership of the Auric empire a good talking to.


    Imo didn¡¯t come home that night shaking and crying like when we had to put down things that came to Earth and could not be sent back, or allowed to live. Instead, she brought souvenirs.


    The two Sakura saplings will go in the front lawn to replace the Maple tree that my Father had removed so he didn''t have to rake up the leaves anymore. The Dark elf helmet went up on a shelf in the rec room.


    And Orihime Takana¡¯s autograph got laminated and hung up on the wall above my desk.


    ¡°You have stepped up to Brenner San.¡±


    She''s been a fan ever since she did a Google search on her own name and found my first blog entry. It was also the reason she decided to get in contact with my sister.


    Peace talks are in the works with the Auric Empire, and an international force is in discussion to deal with any further large scale incursions.


    I would worry about Imogene overworking herself, but she just snorted at me when I mentioned my concern to her.


    "Don''t worry brother mine, I got a nice little place on a world that runs twenty times to Earth that I get to take some nice little vacations at. I''ll show it to you some time."


    Well, I guess I am getting taken off to other worlds by mysterious women now, but it¡¯s just my sister, and she promises to bring me back.

 26) Reflections

    26) Reflections


    I don¡¯t think I¡¯m worried about being taken away to some fantasy world anymore.


    Getting kidnapped, of course, is still a concern, but it''s a minor one. Sort of at a level of the abstract fear that normal everyday dangers you know could happen, but don''t worry about. Like how it was before I saw old George vanish from the restaurant that day.


    Getting taken is something that could happen to me in real life, it¡¯s just not all that likely.


    Sure, everything I learned how to do might make me more of a target to be taken by someone''s emergency criteria, but it also makes me more of a liability if I were. I can fight my kidnappers, I have options that would let me refuse to cooperate, or at least run off instead of doing whatever they want me to do.


    I also got at least one person that can and will, come looking for me.


    My Ready2go bag is still something I carry around, but more because people expect to see me with it.


    Lately, I haven''t even bothered to clip a bag to my ankle when I go to sleep. I still put my Mom¡¯s graduation ring on my pinky finger at night, the only finger it will fit on, to make sure the necklace I normally keep it on doesn''t slip off in my sleep.


    But for the most part, all my emergency stuff, including my Ready2go bag, goes in the ring at night.


    And I don''t have it filled up all the way either.


    My luggage, mostly a pair of simple duffle bags goes in the ring when I travel, and my groceries go in there to when I go to the store on my bike.


    Of course, I take a backpack style book bag with me on planes, you have to give the airport guys something to search or they might want to check you in a way that involves gloves.


    Can you refuse that and just not get on the plane that day? It seems pretty cruel and unusual to not be able to just say no to a random cavity search, or one with cause without a warrant.


    Our world has become so magical, so much like the image of the places I fear being taken away too, that getting Taken now would be more of a major inconvenience than a life changer.


    Who would have thought?


    Today the extra space in my ring was taken up with two pizzas. An all veggie one for the hobbit and her girl, because she likes all the colors more than the taste, and a somewhat healthy one for me.


    Low salt barbecue sauce, Parmesan cheese, bits of diced up chicken breast, and low salt bacon on top.


    I''m only planning on three or four slices, but it''s not the calories I worry about anymore, it''s the salt.


    Imogene got me to see a Doctor for a check up and my blood pressure is up. And from what I¡¯ve read, just taking the pills the Doc gave me isn¡¯t enough, I got to change my lifestyle.


    Which is what they call going on a diet now, but more. You got to stick to the changed diet¡­ forever.


    Forever? Okay, I get why they call it a change of lifestyle. Still sounds like made up wording though.


    My Pizza is staying nice and hot in the storage space in Mom¡¯s ring while I take a quick shower and type this up so I got the rest of the night clear.


    A night I¡¯m really looking forward to.


    My Sister gave up on traveling to the closer parallel worlds of Earth, but Nexus clued her in that she could detect them well enough to at least look in on them.


    A short lived TV series one of her co-workers got her to watch put an idea into her head.


    She¡¯s learned to access the internet on the closer parallels, and even contracted a spirit to do the


    equivalent to what she is calling an inter-dimensional search engine.


    ¡°Imogenggle?¡±


    That got me hit with a pillow. Only because I let her. You have to let your little sibling win every now and then or you¡¯ll destroy their confidence.


    She did go with my second suggestion. Ding. For the alarms, the Deamon lets off when it finds a good match.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    I¡¯m really hoping the surprise she promised me for tonight is season two of Firefly.


    No. I won¡¯t post it on the web page, even if it¡¯s not that.


    Me and my sister talked about internet piracy, and how I chose to start paying for my downloads once I had money for them. Or sending a check to whoever I felt deserved the money when it was morally justifiable to pirate something rather than deal with security features that made it impossible to just own and read or watch a copy of something I had paid for.


    TV shows, movies, books, games, and anything else downloaded from another world? They belong to the versions of the people who made them on our world, and we have to figure out how to make sure they get paid before anything gets put out that will then be ruthlessly pirated.


    I''ve always believed that sometimes you have to step up and do the right thing, well now I''ve begun to learn that sometimes you have to step back too.


    That seems like a good spot to end this one.


    Note: Give this a good read thought and run it through the editing page before I post it.


    Addendum.


    Season Two, Episode One was great. Wash lives.


    At least on Earth APH axis 533b. Whedon lost creative control on 533a. I gave up on that version halfway through episode 4. It had its moments and I still have the downloads for the eight episodes they made, even the ones that didn¡¯t air, but pew.


    This is Imogene by the way.


    Someone who is going to regret it took my brother.


    He got up after we ate, taking his bag but not his shoes with him, to put the leftovers in the fridge because while food doesn''t age in pocket storage dimensions, somehow everything else inside them still ends up smelling like every other opened container of food that spends too much time inside them.


    There is a bump forward on the internal time frame when anything gets put in or pulled out, but it''s in microseconds.


    Shameless plug. See my part of Thelastgoodbye.com ¡°Higher Dimensions¡± for the math, unless my handlers hacked it again.


    I mean, really, leave my posts alone. If anyone in this world can do something with my formulas, I want to meet them.


    Possibly marry them if they don¡¯t mind me having a girlfriend too.


    After all, I''m nearly sixty, and since I¡¯m mixed race I¡¯m not entirely sure as to when my biological clock will stop ticking.


    And I¡¯m almost all alone again¡­ Sad protector of Earth from extra-dimensional horrors is sad.


    Also, I''m quitting my job.


    You got this people. I''ve taught a lot of you the basics, and some of you everything I learned in the Shadow Guard, as well as some of the things I figured out since then.


    You don¡¯t need me anymore, my brother does, or at least might.


    It took me nearly an hour to figure out where he had been Taken to, I knew the exact moment he was gone from the kitchen even if it didn¡¯t trip the wards on him, his ring, or the house because I¡¯m sensitive as all heck to that kind of magic. But whoever took him was good.


    A whole hour for me to track Jim down through their false trails and sub-dimensional traps level of good.


    I¡¯m going to give them a good punch in the nose before we compare notes. Even if they had a good reason to take an Ex-con, former dishwasher turned extra and interdimensional influencer blogger for some reason.


    Okay, also a ritual magic wielding, military nanocyte suite enhanced, well equipped, trained warrior, but what would they need one of those for? It''s probably the dishwashing thing. He still gets called into his old job now and then.


    Either that, or they took him to lure me there. But while I''m more powerful than my brother, I''m not that rare. They could just hire a mage like me rather than blackmail and piss off one.


    By the time I catch up with him, after finishing this post and saying some goodbyes it will have been several months for Jim.


    But I had a few clues as to what he has been up to for those first few months so I¡¯m not too worried about him.


    I¡¯m linked to the ring I gave him.


    Mainly to help me find him wherever he went if he ever was taken, but I also get a report by way of my staff of everything that gets put into, or taken out of his ring.


    There was a lot of loot at first, and animal parts.


    Then things like that started getting taken back out, and replaced with things that he had to have bought somewhere.


    ...then it was stuff like flowers, wine, and expensive treats.


    ...damned Bards.


    So, he seems to be doing good, and having his little sister show up to fetch him home might cramp his style. But he¡¯s my only family, so me and my girl are going looking for him.


    But we might not come back.


    With what he''s been up to, I might have some more family soon.


    The stuff going in and out of Mom¡¯s ring is identified enough to know what they are, with a full description.


    Described well enough to read any writing on them


    Dear Hobbit:


    I let a friend of mind examine Mom¡¯s ring. So I know it¡¯s sending off information somewhere every time I use it.


    We''re going to talk about that later on but for right now¡­


    What¡¯s keeping you?


    This world is very magical, like right down to the dirt and the air, it was nearly blinding for me at first, so much so that the natives have never learned to see magic like we can.


    Which is why I may have been brought here, and the person who did it hasn¡¯t bothered to introduce themselves, even to bother to tell me why I¡¯m here.


    I¡¯ve been well, but in addition to this place being magical, it¡¯s also dangerous as hell.


    My preparations and training have kept me alive, but a lot of the men here go off to protect their families and end up dying off pretty young. Leaving the women to pick up the slack.


    And leaving a lot of them pretty lonely.


    Not to gross you out, but, Bard.


    I¡¯ve made friends to say the least, but this isn¡¯t home.


    To put it short. Having a wonderful time, wish you were here.


    Love Jim.


    P.S.


    In case these notes get to you somehow, I¡¯ll keep you up to date.


    And if it takes so long to get here, that I''m gone, then the ones I leave behind have promised me one favor.


    Here, you will have family.


    Love you little sister.


    I admit, I teared up a little.


    We¡¯re back. I''ve said my goodbyes and made my arrangements, and we should catch up with my brother just short of nine months after his arrival.


    This may be the end of the blog, but someone I trust will be moderating the forums and keeping the site active indefinitely. The house will be fine as well.


    All I have to do now is post this and finish a fiendishly complex ritual to launch myself, Alzara, and a pair of Guardian Sakura Trees into the incredibly dangerous flux between continuums.


    Most likely never to return and all for the sake of a bully that keeps calling me a hobbit.


    Since that is a possibility, I leave you with several seasons of TV shows that got canceled too soon from various nearby versions of your worlds posted in the forums.


    I''ve never had a problem with pirates, I could never have afforded all the books I¡¯ve read without them.


    Yo ho ho.


    Imogene Alhertil Brenner, out.

 Poll: What do I write next?

    And as a bonus to anyone who bothered to look at a post called Poll, the test chapter for an Isekai novel about Jim after he was taken, that did not give me enough inspiration to continue it.


    I wasn¡¯t prepared for this.


    Test Chapter


    So one moment I¡¯m in my kitchen reaching for the handle of the fridge with one hand and with two pizza boxes in the other.


    There was only about half a pizza in either box, but I didn''t want to mix my half a medium barbecue pizza with my sister''s and Alzara¡¯s half a small veggie pizza. Imo claims she can taste it if food she doesn''t like touched her food.


    It was a thing with her, but since the fridge was pretty empty it wasn''t that much of an issue.


    But just before I touched the handle, I found myself standing in a brambly field with two women, the closer one in a suit of mixed bits of armor, running right at me.


    And behind them a horde of snarling half dressed lizard guys running on their hind legs with various sharp blades, axes, and other weapons in hand.


    White words began to appear in the lower left field of my vision.


    {Elevated Magic Field detected. Tech Disruption Warding holding. I believe we are on another world Jim}


    I blinked twice to acknowledge.


    The armored woman began waving her hands at me and shouting a warning while the other smaller woman in the pale robes behind her was so focused on keeping up with the armored one that I didn¡¯t think she even noticed me.


    For a second, I could only think¡­ It finally happened.


    And¡­ of all the times to kick my boots off to relax during dinner.


    I first saw someone taken nearly two years ago, a man I worked with named George who had a heart attack and faded away as he was lying on the ground.


    Not metaphorically, him and his clothes went transparent, then vanished.


    My Mom filled me in that things like that had been happening for years, but had begun to be more common recently, and more blatant.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Two weeks later she vanished from her hospital bed.


    And I started getting ready for when my day came.


    It came.


    Reaching into the front of my shirt, I pulled out the chain with my Mom¡¯s high school ring on it as I let the boxes of pizza hit the ground. Wrapping my left hand around the ring so that I had skin contact with the amethyst set into the white gold I mentally sorted through the inventory within the extra denominational storage space inside the gem.


    My Mom didn¡¯t make it back home, but the daughter she had on another world did, she was only able to come looking for me after learning dimensional magic.


    She should be along fairly soon, after she had already found me once, and helped me prepare.


    Like helping me get a hold of the big gun that I pull free from the ring.


    My sister said they called it a ¡®Rampart Heavy Combat Rifle.¡¯ It was specialty made of advanced material and etched with Goblin runes to make sure it could at least hurt anything it couldn''t kill.


    I''m not supposed to have it, but Imogene snuck one home from her job.


    She wasn¡¯t the only one to find her way to Earth from somewhere out there, but she was pretty good at helping deal with anyone, or anything, else that showed up and decided to be a problem.


    { Weapon link activated. Targeting. }


    The Nanocyte suite that was lacing my bones and showing me messages as well as the red firing circle that appeared in my eyesight to show me where I was aiming was a gift from another visitor. A fan of the blog I began to write about my preparations and other things I had down over the last two years.


    The armored woman''s eyes went wide as I aimed sort of in her direction with what she could tell was a weapon from the way I was holding it, but she gave me a bit of a nod as I began to sidestep to my left. She reached behind her to snag the shoulder of the woman trying to keep up with her and began to drift off to my right to get clear.


    So¡­ Not entirely sure what''s going on here. I don''t want to end up hurting a bunch of innocent people, not even ones covered in scales, who happen to be chasing after what might turn out to be the bad gals.


    ¡°Stand down! No one-¡±


    I leaned away from the spear coming at me as I saw it blinking red until it went green to show me that I was far enough over to be safe.


    ¡°Thanks Ava.¡± If that¡¯s the way they want it.


    The amount of ammo I have for the Rampart is limited as I can only carry so many of them with me, at least if I want all my other stuff. I had no idea of where I might end up, so I had to mix things up.


    A few white spots appear on the lizard guy who threw the spear, suggestions of vital spots, the head, and guts, or yellow ones on the joints to disable.


    That guy tried to kill me. That¡¯s enough for me to pick a side and to set my rules of engagement. I go for white.


    The red circle flashes briefly before I take the headshot. The bullets have runes as well, my own unskilled work in the weak magical field of Earth. But it still turns the creature''s head into so much mush.


    Red outlines begin to blink on the one stopping to throw things at me, while the others keep on heading in my direction.


    I move my hand to the other trigger. The one for the under mounted grenade launcher.


    The first explosion takes out the ones getting ready to pincushion me with their spears. The next grenade thins out the crowd heading my way.


    There is another gem right above the trigger where I can touch it with my finger to load up whatever I need from my storage space into the launcher. My sister had helped make the Ramparts and thought that only having one shot in the grenade launcher was a weakness.


    With the number of them that were made, she had only added this feature for the people she had made storage gems for, her personal team, and me.


    Nepotism sure is handy.


    I looked at the lizard guys running away, screaming, then at the two ladies staring at me, neither one of them entirely human.


    The smell of the dead bodies drifted across the field to me.


    I gave the ladies a nod. ¡°Excuse me.¡±


    Four steps, that''s how far away I got away from them before I couldn''t hold it in anymore and emptied a belly full of barbecue sauce, roasted chicken, parmesan cheese, and low sodium bacon all over the ground.


    I had been prepared to fight if I was Taken to another world, even to kill, but killing people by the dozens, blowing them up?


    I wasn¡¯t prepared for this.