ã€ŠAn Unexpected Adventureã€‹


 01 - I Choose Mage... For Reasons

    You wake up in a forest meadow. The sun is shining, and the air is so fresh it feels like you were the first to breathe it. Around you, birds chirp in excitement and the arboreal cacophony of movement and life is so much more than you have ever been witness to. What is your name, adventurer?

    I started up to a sitting position in confusion. ¡°What? Where am I?¡±

    You are in a forest meadow.

    ¡°The fuck am I doing in a forest meadow? How did I get here?¡± I looked around, trying to figure out who was talking to me.

    You woke up here. Pay attention.

    I saw no one nearby and stood up. I didn¡¯t know whether to run or get ready to fight with the nervous energy. But the meadow was beautiful, with tall grass and flowers, butterflies flitting fucking everywhere. I see a log a few feet away and check behind it. I scratched the short hair on my head, glaring around me. ¡°Where are you hiding?¡± I mutter.

    I¡¯m not. Where I am doesn¡¯t matter.

    The voice seems to come from multiple directions and none at the same time. I am not cool with any of this. ¡°What do you mean? It doesn¡¯t matter? I¡¯m in a meadow and I have no idea where the fuck I am or who you are. How did I get here¡­and how do I get back to the asphalt and smog? The place where I can get an order of chili cheese fries and a beer?¡±

    Listen. You¡¯re in a meadow. The rest of it doesn¡¯t matter at the moment.

    ¡°Okay, asshole, what does matter? What do you need from me?¡± I spin around, still thinking I might pinpoint where this voice was coming from.

    What is your name?

    ¡°Fuck! Fine. It¡¯s Finneg¡­. Call me Finn, Finn Walsh. You know what? Just call me Finn,¡± I said. ¡°Is that all you needed from me? Can I go home now?¡±

    Welcome Finn! Now that we have that out of the way, please choose a class. Your choices are: assassin, knight, mage, fighter, thief, necromancer.

    I was flabbergasted. What the fuck was going on? I¡¯ve never had a dream this vivid. The ground felt real. The stubble on my face itched and the goddamned sun was too bright. So it wasn¡¯t a dream. I tried to calm myself and think. Those classes sounded like something from a tabletop game. One of the multitude of RPGs that were out there, the ones my little brother Sean absolutely loved. What a nerd. What type of character did Sean play as in those things? I couldn¡¯t remember, and it pissed me off. I was about to freak out when I remembered. Something to do with magic, and only one of those choices sounded anything like magic. ¡°Mage. I pick mage if I have to pick anything.¡±

    Congratulations Finn, you are a mage. Let¡¯s roll your stats. There was a pause as the voice did something. I started looking around the meadow for a weapon, a stick, anything. Before I got too far, the voice began speaking again.

    Okay, Finn. Your stats are: strength 15, stamina 12, endurance 13, dexterity 20, intelligence 20, wisdom 20, charisma 15. Do you have questions or wish to re-roll?

    This was a lot of information, and I was having a hard time following. It was definitely something my brother would follow. He was always telling me about the games he played and his adventures. I didn¡¯t care, but as nerdy as he was, he was still my little brother. So I let him talk as much as he wanted while I did whatever. I was thinking I should have paid more attention. ¡°Could you explain these stats to me? I¡¯m not familiar with this stuff.¡±

    Of course, Finn the mage. Though why you wouldn¡¯t know already is beyond me. The strength stat deals with how much you can carry, how much you can lift, and how hard you can hit things. You lucked out. Most mages do not have this much strength. As it has little to do with the primary skill set of a mage, most opt to roll the excess points over the minimum needed into intelligence or wisdom.

    My mind whirled with the implications of this. It was straightforward, and I should have realized it. If I was stronger than I needed to be, ¡°What¡¯s the minimum strength for a human?¡±

    A human¡¯s minimum strength is about 8. Would you like to roll the extra into another stat?

    Eight. I was more than twice as strong as a regular human. I think. That could be handy if it was unusual enough. ¡°No, I think I will keep the points there,¡± I said, ¡°So stamina would deal with how long I could sustain physical effort?¡±

    Mostly. But it also sustains mental effort. Stamina is an important stat for magic and non-magic users both. Stamina is not to be confused with Endurance, which deals with your health points, environmental resistances, among other things.

    Oh god. I should have listened, like really listened to my brother.

    Dexterity affects your ability to move, your speed, how quiet you can be, among other things. Your dexterity would make you an excellent assassin or thief. It helps you as a mage, as you can get the jump on enemies and it also affects how fast you cast spells. As it is, your spells will cast immediately.

    ¡°Okay, that makes sense,¡± I muttered. I still didn¡¯t know what was really going on, but for the moment, I could put that on the back burner. I sat down on the log, listening.

    Your intelligence of 20 is an excellent starting point for a mage and helps determine how many mana points you currently have. It also determines what spells you can learn, how many you can learn, how many spells you can have active at a time, and what level of spells you can learn.

    ¡°Wait, so the stat has nothing to do with my actual intelligence?¡± I asked. This seemed more and more like a game. But it didn¡¯t explain how I got here.

    Yes and no, Fin the mage. Your intelligence stat will affect a certain way your mind works, such as how much information you can encode into your memory and your working memory. The higher the stat, the more you will remember. But you will not be necessarily smarter. Puzzles won¡¯t get any easier the higher the stat goes. It is not the same as an intelligence quotient.

    Bummer, I¡¯m not the smartest guy at my college. It would be nice not to struggle with some of my classes. But if I could remember more¡­ maybe I could impress that girl that sat next to me in Intro to Political Theory. Maybe get her number for study sessions and possibly a date. The voice continuing its lecture rudely interrupted my thoughts of romance.

    Wisdom is the other stat that affects how much mana you have. But it determines how good certain skills are. For example, your tracking skill is fairly high and you should be able to follow a mouse through a forest without issue.

    This surprised me. My dad, an avid outdoorsman, had taught me and my brother how to track animals through most terrain. My brother hated killing animals, and would usually miss any shot he took. I didn¡¯t. I agreed with Dad that it was important to do our part to keep the deer populations in check. Because people had wantonly killed predators over a century ago.

    A wave of sadness hit me, like it always did when I thought of those days. And like I always do, I shook it off. That wasn¡¯t important right now. I took a breath. ¡°I was good at tracking before this. Does that have any bearing on this skill?¡±

    Sadly, no, Finn the mage. If your wisdom was low, you wouldn¡¯t see the tracks. So you are lucky not to have to deal with that.

    I silently agreed. That would really fucking frustrate me. And I already was frustrated with my situation and the lack of explanation on how I got here.

    And finally, Fin the mage, let¡¯s talk about charisma. This stat affects how others view you and what you say. For example, if you were to say some nasty words to someone, as you already have to me, then with your charisma of 15, they would think you were edgy and cool and likely not be offended. Your ability to persuade people depends on this stat. Would you like to know what spells you have?

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°Yes, and how to cast them,¡± I replied.

    You are starting out with a variety of spells: firebolt, ice shard, chain lightning, shadow walker, and mind read. You have a level 2 ability to craft spells, which allows a slight chance to enchant an item with a current spell. Of the 7 types of magic, you are level one in all other than mental and enchanting, which are level 2. To cast your spells, you need only to speak or think the words connected to the spell and aim at your target. Would you like to know your skills?

    ¡°No shit?¡± I said and made a finger gun with my hand at a tree on the edge of the meadow, the last question ignored. ¡°Firebolt, bitch!¡± A small arrow of flame shoots from my finger and hits the tree. I look at the tree in shock as the flames lick the tree from the point of impact. The flames go out while I watch, leaving a charred mark.

    The tree takes minor damage from your attack, which it ignores. As trees do.

    I can do magic. But I refrained from testing any other spell out. There were other things to figure out. Like where I was supposed to go, what I was supposed to do, and most importantly, how I was supposed to get home? I looked around me, ¡°Okay phantom voice, where am I supposed to go? Is there a village nearby?¡±

    Finn the mage wonders where there might be a village, yet without a map or directions he does not know.

    ¡°Oh my god, you¡¯re the narrator for this shitshow? Can you tell me or not?¡±

    Finn the mage, rages at the universe because of his lack of knowledge. He hears a rustle in the forest behind him.

    ¡°Oh shit,¡± I said. I heard a rustle. I turned toward the noise, making my finger gun to burn the thing before I got hurt. Whatever it was, it moved closer. My hand shook from clenching it, looking for the target. With the lack of major damage from my firebolt spell on the tree, I was unsure if it would do much to any creature.

    A man in leather armor with bits of metal studding it stepped out from behind a tree. He looked like he had been a frat boy, but still had great hair. I instantly disliked him. He raised his hands to about chest level, palms out in the universal gesture for ¡®I come in peace.¡¯

    He smirked and said, ¡°Don¡¯t attack me. Please.¡± He stopped about six feet from me.

    ¡°Who the fuck are you, and what do you want?¡± I asked, not lowering my hand.

    He chuckled and stepped closer. ¡°I¡¯m just curious about who I found all alone out here in the forest.¡±

    I didn¡¯t like him. I was then sure he was a creep who wanted to rape or kill me. But hey, I needed information. ¡°I¡¯m a mage, so don¡¯t try anything. I have no clue how I got here.¡±

    He raised an eyebrow, but didn¡¯t take another step. ¡°A mage, eh? And you don¡¯t know how you got here. How cute.¡±

    I really did not like this guy¡¯s attitude. And calling me cute? Fuck no. ¡°Nothing cute about it, friend. Who¡­ the fuck¡­ are you?¡± I really wanted that info, but fuck.

    He laughed, putting his hands down. ¡°I¡¯m not your friend. Yet,¡± he said with a smile. ¡°My name¡¯s Xander. And I am the leader of a band of mercenaries. The Steel Falcon Group.¡± He bowed. He actually bowed.

    I put my hand down, thinking this might not end in a fight. ¡°Great. So, Xander, maybe you could tell me how to get to the nearest town?¡±

    The mercenary leader crossed his arms and looked me up and down. Like I was a piece of meat and he was thinking about eating me. ¡°Hmm¡­ depends on what you have to offer me.¡± He looked me in the eye, yet again with that raised eyebrow.

    I have no idea what kind of inventory I have, but I put my hand in my pocket and feel a few thick coins, about the size of quarters, only thicker. I really didn¡¯t want to be scammed and¡­I cast my mind reading spell on him.

    His eyes widened as I read his mind. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡±

    In my head, I saw a village not too far from here. Like a map opening up before my eyes, I saw a general route from here to there. I pulled out a coin and tossed it to him, the coin a golden blur that he caught reflexively. ¡°Thanks, Xander. You take it easy!¡± I angled away from him, monitoring him for aggressive movements.

    He looked at the coin in his hand and laughed, shaking his head ruefully. ¡°I¡¯ll see you around, mage.¡±

    ¡°Sure, you can buy me a drink!¡± I felt heady, like I had won that exchange.

    Xander chuckled and bowed to me again. ¡°A drink, huh? I¡¯ll remember for our upcoming date!¡±

    As he turned to leave, I realized I had misread him. He wasn¡¯t being a creep. He had been hitting on me. ¡°Fuck me,¡± I muttered under my breath. Though I wasn¡¯t into other guys, I took it as a compliment. I walked on towards the village, hoping I could find someone that could tell me how to get home. And maybe a drink.

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    The village was just that: a village. Wide dirt paths, bordering on being roads, wound through the wood buildings. Ranging from small one-room huts to a three-story building that had a sign with the picture of a pig chasing a young woman. Despite the semi-primitive look of the place, it was bustling with people moving among stalls with all kinds of goods. I saw fruits and bread, knives, and even a sketch artist. I couldn¡¯t see everything as I joined the crowd, for it was a crowd, and I carefully made my way through the village towards the large building with the odd sign. As I got closer, I noticed the village was bigger than I first thought. I looked down a side street as wide as the one I was on. It went on for about a football field before it forked or turned, preventing me from seeing the end. An old man bumped into me, grumbling about outsiders.

    The three-story building was obviously some sort of inn. The noise from the street prevented me from clearly hearing the sounds of a stringed instrument, somewhere between a mandolin and a harp, coming from inside the open door. People wandered in and out of the place, as I stood there just looking.

    ¡°Move it!¡± yelled a man behind me and I walked up to and into a noisy, smelly room. The smell was somewhere between the post-game locker room and a pig barn. Parts of the place seemed well lit, but there were dark corners with shadowy figures. Kind of like that scene from that movie trilogy my nerd of a brother loves. I had given him the box set for Christmas, the one that came with a ring, and fell asleep while he made me watch it.

    That scene¡­ no, I wasn¡¯t looking for adventures. I wanted to figure out where I was and how I got here. After a drink.

    The bar was dark and polished. Some of the straw on the floor seemed to bunch up at the base, likely from many feet kicking it. I waited for the balding man behind the bar to notice me, watching the waitresses, or barmaids, move through the crowded tables, grabbing drinks and food from the bar and bringing back gold. It was like just about any other bar or restaurant I had ever worked in. Stress and efficiency.

    ¡°Er, what are you having?¡± the man said, somewhat harried. He wore a stained apron on his front, with fresh grease stains and spilled drinks. An odd contrast to the waitresses¡¯ clean aprons.

    ¡°How much for a drink?¡± I hoped it wasn¡¯t too much. I only had a few coins left.

    ¡°Depending on what you want, ale is two and wine is four. The stronger stuff is six, and we don¡¯t do the fancy drinks during the lunch rush, so don¡¯t worry about that.¡± He looked at me expectantly.

    I pulled two of the gold coins out of my pocket. ¡°An ale then.¡± Wouldn¡¯t worry about whether I got ripped off until later. Two solid gold coins were worth a lot at home. The man smiled and drew a large mug, maybe 20 ounces (591-ish milliliters for the non-freedom unit users), from a barrel behind the bar.

    He plopped it down in front of me. ¡°Anything else, stranger?¡±

    I thought for a moment. Based on the cost of the ale, I didn¡¯t think I could afford lunch¡­and I needed money until I figured out how to get home. ¡°Do you know of anyone needing some work done around here? I could use the money.¡±

    ¡°Looking for work, eh? Well,¡± he looked at me thoughtfully, ¡°you have the air of someone looking for adventure. Yesterday, one of my regulars told me about some trouble up north at the Hollowbrook farm. The Hollowbrooks have been working that land for more generations than I can remember. At any rate, Gam said to me that there are wolves attacking the farm up there, big ones, and the Hollowbrooks were offering good money to deal with them. I¡¯d check with them, unless you want to spell one of my girls for a bit!¡± He laughed at the last bit as if it was the funniest thing in the world. I smiled politely.

    ¡°How far north is this farm?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Oh, bout 3 miles. Couple hours walk for someone like you.¡± He leaned up against the bar, ¡°speaking of walking, you look like you¡¯ve been on the road awhile. Any interesting things out there?¡±

    I took a sip of the beer. Cool and bitter. Not strong at all, not like the IPAs I was used to. ¡°That¡¯s refreshing. Yeah, I ran into a mercenary in the forest. Said he was in charge of a band of mercenaries or something.¡±

    The bartender raised an eyebrow, clearly interested in the news. ¡°A mercenary band, eh? Must have been some morning! I wonder what they were doing in the forest. Which direction did you say you came from?¡±

    ¡°The east,¡± I replied. ¡°I have no idea what they are up to, but I didn¡¯t know if this guy was going to kill me, hit on me, or recruit me.¡±

    The bartender laughed at that, clearly amused at my earlier predicament. ¡°Sounds like a classic mercenary, always looking for their next job or next fling. Or their next victim. Or some combination.¡± He wandered off, chuckling, to talk with a man on the far end of the bar who looked somewhat official, sort of like a cop.

    I stood there and drank my ale. It really was decent. I don¡¯t know if it was 2 gold decent or not. But it helped to have something. My stomach wasn¡¯t grumbling and I could focus on what I was dealing with. Taking stock of what I had, I checked my pockets while I sipped. Five coins. Probably not enough to buy supplies or rent a room. The clothes I was wearing were different, though my pants seemed normal enough for denim. Most men wore what looked like jeans, but hand made. I had what I would call a poncho, thick and warm, with a pouch in front. When I had some privacy, I would take a closer look at it. I had no weapons that I could tell, which sucked. But it felt like I had some bottles of some liquid in some inner pouches. And to my shock, I realized I was wearing a backpack. How I had not noticed that, I¡¯ll never know.

    My ale finished, I set the mug down, waved to the bartender, and headed back out into the world. I felt somewhat refreshed and ready for the two hours walk to the farm. I stopped at a stall and asked a man with a crazed look in his eyes which way was north and checked the sun. He tried to sell me what appeared to be explosives, but I was already on my way. I was heading out on a fucking adventure.

 02 - How Many Wolves? And That Old Guy!

    From a shadowy corner, a hooded old man watches the young man talk to the bartender with interest. The wine in his hand does little to reduce the ache in his joints, but he takes another sip, anyway. Some drips from his mustache and he wipes at it thoughtlessly. His hearing isn¡¯t as good as it used to be, but better than it should have been. This place¡­does things to a man. He focused on the conversation the newcomer was having with the bartender. Was that the sound of the American Midwest in the boy¡¯s voice? The old man grimaced. He knew what he had to do, and did not relish it.

    As the boy finished his drink and made to leave, the old man gathered his bow case and pack. The boy was heading north, to the Hollowbrook farm. And that was where he was going to get him. He didn¡¯t have to rush.

    ***********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    It was midafternoon when I reached the turnoff for the Hollowbrook farm; the sign was clear and easy to read. It was nice I didn¡¯t have to puzzle out a new language. ¡°Hey voice, why is it I can read this sign?¡±

    There was no answer.

    ¡°Hello, oh disembodied voice. Are you there?¡± I asked. I waited for a moment and got no answer. Had I imagined or offended the voice? There was an odd feeling of loss at its disappearance, as it had been the first contact since I woke up in this place. No matter the reason, there was no answer, and I had a job to do. Likely the first of many, if there wasn¡¯t anyone in this area that could tell me how to get home. I tried not to focus on how long I had been away, worrying about my little brother. Though he was a sophomore in high school, I couldn¡¯t be here for too long. I was all he had. Well, there was Mom, but she was working all the time, so she really was only there on weekends.

    I gritted my teeth, trying to force thoughts of my brother being alone down as I needed to focus. I had to do this job, and do it well. Where my brother was involved, I had no choice. I walked down the rutted path, trying not to think of my responsibilities. Soon some fields came into view, as well as large pens and barns. I saw a crowd outside one pen and made for the people.

    ¡°Excuse me, I heard you had a wolf problem. Who do I talk to about that?¡± I asked. Some of the crowd turned to look at me and a middle-aged man stepped forward.

    ¡°You can talk to Pa. He¡¯s in the pen there.¡± He said. The man ushered me to the inside of the penned area they all focused on. I saw an old man leaning over his cane, looking at a pile of curly fur and offal, what once might have been a sheep. Or a goat. He didn¡¯t look at me until I had climbed over the hip-tall fence and approached him.

    ¡°Who the hells are you?¡± He said with a start.

    ¡°I¡¯m Finn. I heard you needed help with your wolf problem from the bartender in the village south of here. Said a man named Gam brought word?¡±

    ¡°Eh? Speak up boy, no need to whisper!¡± he snapped at me.

    ¡°Pa¡¯s hard of hearing.¡± A woman said from the crowd.

    Great, just great. ¡°I SAID, I¡¯M FINN! HERE FOR THE WOLF PROBLEM?¡±

    ¡°Not so loud, boy! I¡¯m not hard of hearing!¡± he said.

    ¡°Yes, he is.¡± Another person said from the crowd.

    The old man glared past me before squinting at me. ¡°Finn, is it? Good. I¡¯d hoped Gam would get us some help. And it¡¯s wolves, boy. More than one. Look at this ewe. Dead, and nothing to salvage. The wolves have been attacking the farm every night for weeks!¡±

    ¡°Do you know where they are during the day?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Eh? In the wood to the east of here.¡± He replied, pointing.

    I looked at the ewe, and back up at the old man. ¡°Do you know where to look in the woods?¡±

    And he looked at me like I was an idiot. ¡°Of course we looked! We used dogs. And we could not find a whiff of the monsters! They¡¯re destroying the livelihood of this family! Of course we¡¯re gonna look, you idiot!¡± By the end, he was waving his cane and I thought he was going to hit me. He planted his cane in the mud and leaned on it. ¡°Why do you think I offered to pay someone? Use your brain, boy!¡±

    I stood there, letting him berate me. The money. I needed the money. ¡°I hear you. How many wolves are there?¡±

    He waved in the general direction of the crowd, done with me. ¡°Go ask one of them.¡±

    I let out a deep breath, nodded, and left the muddy pen. After talking to the crowd of Hollowbrooks, the consensus was there were five wolves. Though a younger boy swore there were seven.

    This wasn¡¯t very helpful, but having a better idea of how many there were had made the finding of the wolves part a little easier. Either way, it would not be a simple task. I would have to first find the wolves by tracking them to their den. Hopefully, I would find them while they are still not very active and be able to deal with them quickly or trap them. Not having any weapons at all was not working for me.

    If I had a rifle, I could attempt to take them out from a distance. But that would require them to be hanging out in the open, so it really didn¡¯t matter. I didn¡¯t know the range of my spells or even how to figure it out. Not having the Voice to ask questions was really making this difficult. I was just going to have to get close, and that was not the best way to deal with wolves, at least in their home court. Or home den.

    I got to the woods with about a half an hour¡¯s worth of sun left. The wood itself was dark and cluttered, like something from one of those horror movies where people ignore the foreshadowing and end up on the wrong end of a chainsaw. But there was enough light for me to see wolf tracks, the fresh ones overlaying older ones. It was so obvious, I couldn¡¯t understand how the farmers had missed it. I didn¡¯t have to get down and check, look for tufts of fur, or broken plant stalks. The only way this well-traveled wolf highway would be even more clear was if it was glowing.

    I followed it through the trees, around bushes, and through a small stream. The light became twilight, and the trail led to a cave opening. A large cave opening. ¡°There is no way I¡¯m blocking that.¡± I no longer had a choice. It was too dark to head back under threat of the actual possibility of wolves at my back. And it was too dark to go into the cave.

    Or was it? I tried to cast light. Nothing happened. ¡°Fuck me, I have to aim at my target.¡± I slapped my forehead and suddenly I was surrounded by a glowing nimbus. That shouldn¡¯t have worked, but hey why not? I stepped into the cave and walked carefully down the sloping tunnel. I started thinking about what other spells I had. Wasn¡¯t there a shadow spell? I put my hand on my chest and thought about it. I noticed nothing and kept walking. The gravel underfoot was strangely quiet. I heard movement farther down the tunnel and stopped.

    This was as good a place as any other. The tunnel was wide and well lit, plus there was a turn in sight. I could wait for them to and hit them with my spells as they came around the bend. So I had some choices, but I really wanted to try the chain lightning spell. I had a memory of my brother talking about this third person looter game dealing with religion or something. He had unlocked chain lightning, and it hit multiple targets. He talked about it like it was a bazooka, a bomb. No, he said it was THE bomb. I had to try it.

    And then they were. Six giant ass wolves came around the corner and the first one stopped five feet from me and started sniffing the air. That one started growling. I aimed at that first one and cast chain lightning.

    Holy cow. I was speechless. The lightning shot through all six wolves and around the corner. They all started seizing up and whining, and four of them fell on the ground. They twitched. I let out a whoop and peppered them with Ice Shard. Javelins of ice nailed them to the ground and the walls. I¡¯d done it. I let myself relax.

    Suddenly SIX MORE wolves ran shakily around the tunnel bend, and I freaked out, frantically zapping them with chain lightning and backpedaling until I ran out of mana. In my flailing attempt for more, I fell on my backside. It wasn¡¯t until the sparks and smoke cleared that I realized I had won. I got back to my feet and looked at myself to see if I was injured, but saw nothing but a dark outline. A shadow¡­ with a glowing nimbus. I¡¯d successfully cast my Walk in Shadows spell, but my light spell made me visible enough. ¡°Oh fuck. I should be dead.¡±

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    Our hero, Finn the Mage, is triumphant in his quest to save the farm! The wolves are dead, and the people will praise the name of Finn. Though our victorious mage is out of mana for the time being, his foes are vanquished! He will need to take proof back to the farmers and look for any loot to be found.

    ¡°Voice! You¡¯re back! Can you help me out? I have so many questions.¡± I replied, relieved. And I waited for some answer, something that would help me survive.

    Nothing. Just that brief thing about me completing the¡­quest? Whatever. I took what the Voice said to heart and checked the wolves for loot. Using the small knife in my backpack, I found I could gut them and found a tied bag of 25 gold in one stomach. A little weird, but I took it! I then skinned them with the small knife and went to look farther into the cave. The chamber I found after ten minutes of walking was full of bones and offal. I found a cool dagger, but without a sheath. At least I finally had a weapon.

    I walked back up the tunnel and looked at the wolf carcasses. I wondered if the skins were good enough proof. An hour later, I walked out of the cave into the night, my backpack full of wolf heads. It was gross, but I couldn¡¯t take the chance the farmers wouldn¡¯t believe me and withhold payment. I would have to scrub out my backpack, even though I wrapped them in the wolf skins. Hopefully, this would be the worst grossness I would ever have to deal with.

    The walk back to the farm took longer than the walk to the cave. I was tired, hungry, and covered with wolf blood and offal. I had cleaned myself off the best I could in the stream in the woods, but without soap, it wasn¡¯t very good. But the Hollowbrooks didn¡¯t care. They looked at the heads, all twelve of them, and cheered. I didn¡¯t care. Then the old man made his way to me with his cane.

    ¡°Well, boy. I see you got the wolves. How you did it, I¡¯ll never know. But thank you. You saved my farm, and the livelihood of me and my family. Please take this gold. It¡¯s not much, but I hope it will work for you.¡±

    I took the bag of gold and hefted it. I thanked him for the payment and gave him a wolf¡¯s head. He handed it to the boy who spoke up earlier. The boy held it above his head and cheered, the rest of the family echoing him. I left, not wanting to deal with these people anymore. It was a long walk back to the village, and I needed food, sleep, and a shower.

    I hadn¡¯t made it more than a quarter mile before a figure with a bow stepped out from behind a tree ahead of me. This was too much, as I was too tired to deal with any more bullshit. I put my hand into my front pouch to grab the dagger I¡¯d found in the cave, but the arrow suddenly in front of my left foot made me freeze.

    ¡°No funny business, boy. Slowly remove your knife and drop it.¡± The figure ordered. His voice was deep, with a bit of a rasp. He sounded like a Latino actor that had been in a show I had liked, a real badass. I dropped my knife.

    ¡°What do you want? I don¡¯t have much of anything, and I haven¡¯t eaten a god dammed thing all day.¡± I said listlessly. I hoped he wouldn¡¯t take the gold I¡¯d just earned but, there was nothing I could do. It was clear this guy could probably kill me with his bow before I could do a thing about it. I was just too worn out to care.

    He stalked towards me, another arrow nocked and ready to react. He stopped just out of arm¡¯s reach and lowered his bow. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? How could you not have food? Didn¡¯t you get the free food pack at the end of the tutorial?¡±

    ¡°What the hell is a tutorial? And who are you? The Spanish robin hood?¡±

    ¡°Not Spanish, boy. I¡¯m American, just like you. Come.¡± He turned on his foot, no longer seeing me as a threat. I didn¡¯t doubt that I was never a threat to him. After a moment, I picked up my dagger and followed him off the dirt road to a small campsite hidden by a massive pile of rocks. The archer got down and restarted the fire with a few deft motions. He made pained noises, getting back up and moved to sit on a log near the fire and motioned me to sit on another. ¡°You can turn off the light spell. We don¡¯t need it.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t know how.¡± I admitted.

    ¡°Hmmm. Just touch yourself where you did originally and think light off.¡±

    I did as he suggested, and my nimbus winked out. He snorted when he saw me touch my forehead.

    ¡°Good. Now. I am Juan Santino Venegas. You may call me Juan. What do you go by?¡±

    I looked at him, this old man, maybe in his sixties. A man who moved like he was much younger. He had a bushy mustache and goatee, which really made him look like some sort of old-fashioned hero¡­like one of the musketeers. I was in awe of this man. He was dangerous, like he had been doing this for a long time and had become stronger, faster.

    ¡°I¡­um¡­I¡¯m Finnegan. Finn. Nice to meet you, Juan.¡± I said.

    ¡°Thank God you have a normal name! Over the last few years, I have met people who have chosen such strange names that make no sense. I just don¡¯t know what happened in the years I¡¯ve been here. Who calls themselves SassyMstrBlstr76? It¡¯s so strange!¡±

    ¡°How long have you been here? Wait, do you know where we are?¡±

    ¡°Calm down, Finn. I¡¯m not sure where we are exactly. But as to your first question, I¡¯ve been here about forty years.¡±

    ¡°Oh no,¡± I whispered. Forty years. Forty years stuck, god knows where, to grow old and likely die without ever getting home. ¡°Juan, what the hell is this place? What is this tutorial you spoke of? How am I¡­How can¡­my brother¡­my mother? Juan, I need to get home.¡±

    He looked at me with concern. ¡°Hey, hey, hey. It¡¯s okay, Finn. Let me get some food for you and I¡¯ll try to explain what I can. Okay? I need you to hold on.¡± He pulled a pack from behind the log he was on and rummaged through it, pulling out a cooking pot and some paper wrapped items. I watched him fill the pot from a clay jug that he returned to his pack and open the paper packages of meat and different vegetables, already sliced, and drop them in the water. Then he added some spices and stirred it a bit, leaving it to simmer.

    The smell was intoxicating, and my spirits were lifted. He pulled a wine bottle and two cups from his pack, popping the cork out with a small knife. He poured some into each cup and handed me one. I took a sip and coughed.

    ¡°That¡¯s not wine,¡± I croaked. The burning in my throat made it obvious it was not wine.

    ¡°You looked like you needed something stronger, yes?¡± he said in apology.

    We sat there until the soup was ready and he ladled two portions into bowls that he also had in his pack. I ate too fast, burning my mouth, but I didn¡¯t care. I couldn¡¯t tell you how good the thick soup was, but at the time it was the best I had ever tasted. Two bowls later, I felt mostly myself again.

    ¡°So, Juan, can you fill me in as to what¡¯s happening? I really do not know how I got here, how things work, or even where ¡®here¡¯ is.¡±

    ¡°Yes. So starting with the tutorial. When you get here, an unseen person walks you through how things work here. Your stats, skills, how to use your inventory, how to access the map, and so on. I spent two days conversing with this individual, as so much of it made no sense to me at first. Once I was feeling sure of the way of things, I left the area and was congratulated on finishing the tutorial. They provided food for each day, and then a week¡¯s worth of rations when I was leaving.¡±

    ¡°Oh boy. So I really messed up by leaving the meadow so quickly.¡± I felt a little woozy, and not just from the liquor Juan had given me.

    He smiled. ¡°don¡¯t feel too bad. When I started talking to new people who arrived here, most did not go through the tutorial.¡±

    ¡°Thank god I¡¯m not the only one. And they turned out okay?¡± I felt some hope that I might make it.

    ¡°No. the ones that would listen to me, to get the training they didn¡¯t in the tutorial are mostly still alive. But the ones who wouldn¡¯t listen, well, they died within the first week. Most on the first day. I tried to get to you before you faced your first big challenge, but I was too late. And yet, you survived with just a dagger. Were you in the Army? Marines?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m a college student. Not even in the ROTC. But I found the dagger in the wolf¡¯s den. I went in there with no weapons. Just spells.¡±

    He looked at me with some admiration in his eyes. ¡°Good. That¡¯s good. So what class did you choose? Necromancer? Wizard? Spellsword? No, not Spellsword. You were unarmed¡­.¡±

    ¡°Not all of those were options for me. I chose the mage class. My brother liked mages. Or wizards. And I think sorcerers? But yeah. He¡¯s the nerd and knows this stuff, so I try to remember what he went all autist on me with.¡±

    ¡°Autist? I don¡¯t know this one. But you¡¯re the first mage I¡¯ve seen in years. Come to think of it, you¡¯re the first new person I¡¯ve seen in a couple years. I was beginning to think they were done with the program.¡±

    ¡°The what now? Program? Are we in some sort of VR simulation?¡± this was something I¡¯d heard of. Like full body suits, IV drips, etc.

    ¡°VR? Oh, virtual reality! Yes, I¡¯ve heard of that. There was this woman, ten years ago. She was positive it was this VR. Very convincing arguments. But no. We are guinea pigs, yes, but not hooked up to some computer. Do they still have computers on desks? Or just those phones that you don¡¯t have wires with. The ones as powerful as computers?¡±

    I looked at him, astounded. ¡°Do you mean smartphones? We still have PCs and laptops, but for a lot of the day to day we use smartphones.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful! I used to design computer programs. We had to use a machine that spit out cards that had holes in them. They were called punch cards, and we fed the punch cards into the computer and the computer would run the program. It was time consuming, but cutting edge.¡±

    ¡°I¡­that¡¯s cool and all, but can we focus on where we are and how we got here?¡±

    ¡°We can¡­but it¡¯s mostly conjecture. Over the years, I and others have put together theories based on information we¡¯ve gotten from new people coming here. Not everyone has anything to go on, but¡­. every once in a while someone has a piece of useful information. And there are rumors of a man here that knows everything: where we are, how we got here, and how to get home. But he¡¯s just a rumor.¡±

    ¡°What we know is that there is an organization, or government agency, that has been sending people here for many, many years. I am one of the long timers in this place, but when I got here, there were people who had been here for decades, and people before them. Nobody remembers what happened in the hours leading up to coming here¡­at least mostly nobody. I remember meeting a woman¡­ I think she was a recruiter. I met her at a restaurant. And then I was here.¡±

    I felt like he had dumped a lot of information on me. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to start asking questions. So the government is recruiting people to come¡­wherever here is? Is this a facility of some sort? It seems so normal, almost like a national park in the middle of nowhere.¡±

    ¡°You have yet to see any monsters. No, Finn, I¡¯m not convinced we¡¯re in a facility. This place is too big. Countries and continents big.¡± He took a deep breath and drank down a cup of hard liquor in one gulp. ¡°No, we¡¯re not even on Earth anymore. This place¡­its laws of nature are not the same. Wherever we are, Finn, it¡¯s a long way from home.¡±

 03 â€“ Sweet Purple Horns, Bowman! Or Mott Ado About Nothing

    I looked at Juan, horrified at the idea that we were somewhere else. ¡°What do you mean, like another dimension or planet?¡± He nodded sadly. I drained my cup of what I decided was like a terrible, single distilled vodka. I coughed a little. That shit was harsh.

    Juan poured me a refill when I held the cup out. ¡°I won¡¯t lie to you. I have been trying to find a way home for a long time. Maybe there actually isn¡¯t a way home.¡± He sipped from his own cup. ¡°But the unseen person of the tutorial talked of a way back. And everyone that, unlike you, finished the tutorial has reported the same thing.¡±

    ¡°What. What did it say? Is there a quest? A set of powerful objects? A wish? What did the tutorial voice say?¡± I sat on the edge of my seat. Okay, on the edge of my log. But I needed to know. ¡°Whatever it is, I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    ¡°Finn. I don¡¯t think you will. I don¡¯t think any of us can. At the end of the tutorial, we¡¯re given a riddle. To find the way back, there is a creature to track. Take it from its broken place, to the frozen night in lace. Stop the theft of light so true, and straight home I will send you.¡±

    I took a moment to think about the riddle. ¡°Juan, that¡¯s bad poetry. How is it that no one has cracked it? I mean, really. That sounds like something from a kids¡¯ show.¡± He looked at me with confusion. ¡°You know, like the one with the kid and the monkey? They travel all over the world solving riddles and finding things.... never mind, it¡¯s after your time.¡±

    ¡°Kids¡¯ shows were different, before I came here. And on Saturdays. But Finn, no one knows what creature it refers to. So without the first step, the rest is useless. No one has found any frozen night with or without lace. Or knows what the ¡®light so true¡¯ is.¡±

    ¡°Hey. What if the frozen night is a play on words, like it meant a knight in shining armor? Only a black knight. Maybe a woman?¡± I felt like I was on to something here, so I was getting excited.

    ¡°Yes, and that has never been thought of in the entire time I have been here. I¡¯m sorry, Finn, but other than a few people, we all think this is a dead end. And even if it wasn¡¯t, the amount of information available to us suggests that we have no further idea. People have looked at tracking-type quests. Big quests. We have started wars in this place trying to find something.¡±

    I took a moment to process this. Wars. ¡°How many dead?¡± I asked quietly.

    ¡°Too many to count. Most of them are natives of this world. I¡¯ve lost a lot of friends, watched too many good people die because of wasteful, useless conflicts. Those of us who were involved have to carry the burden of our actions. I have to carry that.¡± He sat for a moment, lost in thought. ¡°That is enough of that, young Finn! For tonight, at least. We both need sleep. Tomorrow, I need to teach you everything I can that you missed by skipping out on the tutorial.¡±

    *********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    I slept the night through, the exhaustion of the previous day and the shitty moonshine doing their work. Though the moonshine wasn¡¯t done with me come morning, and I had the worst hangover of my life. The second worst was at a 4-H state competition where I got drunk off of whiskey a friend had brought. It was the night before I was supposed to compete. I drank two bottles of the pink stuff for my stomach before doing my illustrated talk. If that was bad, this was a hundred times worse.

    Juan was already awake, making what I assume was breakfast. And the most god-awful singing I¡¯ve ever heard. Or maybe it was just my head. I groaned, my eyes narrowed to slits to keep out the hellishly bright light. ¡°Must you?¡±

    ¡°Ah! You¡¯re awake! Good.¡± He placed a cup of something steaming near me. ¡°Drink this, Finn. It tastes horrible, but it¡¯ll treat your hangover.¡±

    I looked at him suspiciously. I looked at the cup suspiciously. It smelled like... burned banana peels and horseradish. At his urging, I got up onto an elbow and took a sip. I gagged, but got the sip down. I felt a small bit better. Better enough to sit up and lean against the log, a monumental task only a short while ago. I took my time, but by the time he handed me a plate of food, some sort of stew with root vegetables, I was feeling quite good. And I was suddenly hungry. The stew was not only delicious, but filling. It was mostly a root vegetable I was unfamiliar with. It tasted like potatoes with a hint of turkey.

    I would learn later that this was a common tuber in this part of the world that grew almost everywhere, like an invasive weed. The tuber was called a Glot root, supposedly for whoever had discovered it. It was my favorite vegetable here or at home.

    After I had finished another plate of the amazing stew, Juan figured I was ready to learn about how this world worked and how to access various things. He explained the stats were my base states and would increase over time as I leveled. ¡°Wait, so I¡¯m really going to get stronger? How does that work?¡±

    ¡°There is something that is done to us when we come here. Like we are, as my young friend Rachel would say, upgraded. Here, we can call up our personal information like our stats and skills. But we can also summon a map of the world around us that gets more information as we enter new areas, complete or start quests, or otherwise gain location-specific information.¡±

    ¡°Like when I read that mercenary¡¯s mind and found the location of the nearest village? I glimpsed a map in front of my eyes, showing my location and the location of the village. It gave me the fastest route there before disappearing.¡±

    He looked surprised. ¡°Yes! But you shouldn¡¯t have seen that until after the invisible tutorial person taught you how. Well. This might be easier than I thought. Why don¡¯t we start with the map?¡±

    I nodded. ¡°Okay, walk me through it.¡±

    ¡°This is all in the mind, not like the computers I¡¯ve been told about with a mouse and a pointer. You don¡¯t clack on anything.¡±

    ¡°Click,¡± I corrected.

    ¡°Click. You don¡¯t click on anything. Instead, I want you to think about the surrounding area. Not anything specific about it, just think of it in general.¡±

    I sat there and thought about everything around us: the land, the trees, the pile of rocks between us and the road. For a moment, an opaque map appeared before me before disappearing. The rocks. I had been thinking specifically about the rocks. I swore at myself and tried again. This time, I didn¡¯t think about the rocks, just the land and trees. The map snapped back, showing me the local area. I looked to the south, and the map zoomed out some, showing the road and the surrounding area, from the village to the farm. I noticed the area where I started east of the village, and the wolves¡¯ den east of the farm. But nothing else.

    ¡°Hey, Juan?¡± I asked. ¡°Why can¡¯t I see more than where I¡¯ve been?¡±

    ¡°As Rachel put it, it¡¯s the fog of war. Apparently, in our world it¡¯s a common thing in the computer games. It goes away, the more you explore. Were you able to increase the area covered by the map, then?¡±

    I nodded, still looking at the map. As I tried to look more to the right, I zoomed out further. And further. There was so much I just couldn¡¯t see, blocked by a vague cloud with ambiguous outlines indicating things like mountains or a coastline. There was an odd blinking spot to the far west, but I re-zoomed the map into where we were now. I noticed two colored dots on the map, which were labeled. The blue one was labeled Juan Santino Venegas, while the green one was labeled Finn. ¡°So Juan, what does the color coding mean for the dots? Does everyone have a different color, like in older video games?¡±

    ¡°It depends. For people from our world, we see each other as blue dots on the map. Unless we are enemies, or attacking each other. Then it¡¯s blue with a red outline. Hostile creatures are always red, while non-hostile creatures are yellow. Oh, and usually people of this world are white dots.¡±

    ¡°Usually white?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It depends.¡± He pushed some embers around the firepit. ¡°If they are hostile, they have a red outline around their white dot. But if they are being controlled...it¡¯s pink.¡± He was quiet for a while, lost in the past. But then he whispered, ¡°There are...things...that can control us too. This I have witnessed. There are also rumors... that some of us can do this thing too. The Lich, for example.¡±

    Juan had a haunted look about him, reliving whatever horrors he had survived. But then he shook himself and looked at me with a smile. ¡°But enough of that. Let¡¯s talk about inventory. Again, I need you to focus. But this time on your backpack.¡±

    It took me several tries to get the right mindset for accessing my pack, or my inventory, but I finally got the feel for it. I could either access my backpack by physically rooting through it or by opening it mentally. But by accessing it mentally, I could pull something from my pack without going through it. I could pull a snack out while walking, or a health potion in the middle of a fight. Or a mana potion. I played around with it a bit, before Juan explained how to tell how much I could carry, and the other limitations of the backpack.

    ¡°Your strength plays a big part in how much you can carry. You said you thought your strength was 15? So that means you can comfortably carry 300 to 350 pounds, and a max of about 400 pounds. But the big thing is the size of your backpack affects how much and what you can carry in it.¡±

    ¡°So wait. I can carry 300 pounds easy, but it has to fit in my backpack? Do I have that right?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yes. You can carry it some other way, like in your arms. And that¡¯s usually a bad idea. There are better backpacks, like mine, that are enchanted to have more space, but they are very expensive.¡±

    I needed one of those. ¡°How expensive are we talking?¡±

    He frowned. ¡°I bought mine for 250 thousand gold. And a few friend¡¯s lives to get that gold.¡±

    My jaw dropped. 250 thousand? I read a side note in a textbook that stated if US quarters were made of gold, they would weigh about a quarter of an ounce. But these were thicker, say about an ounce. If my bad math skills were right, 250 thousand gold would be almost 15 thousand pounds. Oh god, at home that would be what, 45 million dollars? And I only had a measly 175 gold coins!

    The loss of life on top of the money was a sobering thought. It¡¯s addition to his total gave me the feeling that Juan had seen a lot of shit and had some trauma. That was yet another ominous item I could look forward to adding to my mental catalog of shit that messes you up here. And I was willing to bet all 175 gold pieces I had now that he wasn¡¯t telling me everything. Yeah.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    We quickly went over the stats and how to look at them. And subsequently, how to level up. It turned out leveling up wasn¡¯t automatic. You had to accept the experience ¡°energy¡± and focus on which stats it was to go into. It could be focused on one stat or spread willy-nilly to all the stats. But not all of it. About 20 percent of it went into intelligence, wisdom, and endurance to increase health and mana points. I¡¯d average new health points at every level, but not new mana points except every two levels. And that was without me doing anything. The rest I could put where I wanted. So maybe a couple points to figure out per level.

    As it turned out, my quest to kill the wolves for the farmers gave me enough energy to level up. Juan walked me through the process and I went up to level 2. My endurance, intelligence, and wisdom stats all went up one, and I had two more points that I needed to distribute. I threw those into stamina, raising it up to 14. And I found out that my health jumped from 79 points to 86 points. My mana points, surprisingly, went up 20 from 80 to 100 points.     Apparently, even though the Voice had said that it would only change every 2 points of intelligence and wisdom, it would have explained the level bonus when we got to that point in its lecture. And I would have got some experience energy for finishing the fucking tutorial.

    By the time we were done, it was early afternoon. Juan busied himself around the fire, presumably to make some lunch. I wandered off to grab some wood, but mostly to find a place to empty my bladder. It had been hours since I had last gone, and I quickly found some bushes that gave decent cover. I was half-way done when I heard a twig snap behind me. That was when realized I should have been keeping an eye on the map. A quick glance as it popped up let me know it was a blue dot, but the name was not Juan. It was someone named Harper.

    Since they were not moving, I finished up and turned around. And almost shit my pants. Before me was a slight woman, about 5¡¯2¡±. Her black hair was held back in a severe ponytail, showing off her slender neck, perfect features, and her ears. Her pointed ears. And a pair of horns protruding from her forehead, curling up and back. Her skin had a slight purple-ish tinge, making her violet eyes just pop.

    My jaw must have dropped, because I found myself closing it. My first thought was that she was beautiful. The second one was that she was a monster, and I had to defend myself. Before my hand had moved very far from my side, the point of a thin-bladed sword was at my throat. Naturally, I froze.

    She tilted her head a little to the side and frowned. ¡°I was going to give you kudos when you noticed me and didn¡¯t turn around... but now I see you¡¯re just another cocky, xenophobic asshole.¡± The sharp steel lightly scraped my skin as it moved up to my jawline and my breath quickened. ¡°You¡¯re new, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    I had to salvage this somehow, else she was going to kill me. Though she did not look human, there had been only one dot near me, and it had to be this dusky skinned, horned woman. ¡°H-how did you know?¡± she tapped my jaw a couple times before lowering her blade. I almost collapsed in relief.

    ¡°You really don¡¯t know how to look at someone¡¯s level, do you?¡± She smoothly sheathed her sword and stepped forward, offering her hand. ¡°I¡¯m Harper.¡±

    For a second, I looked at her proffered hand before taking it carefully. ¡°I¡¯m Finn. How are you....¡±

    She smiled, showing slightly larger canines. ¡°Not human? Did you not pay attention during the tutorial?¡± At the shake of my head, she sighed. ¡°I swear, I thought more people would be prepared for this place, not less. Since it¡¯s obvious you don¡¯t know, I¡¯m what¡¯s known here as a Cambion, a half-demon. I¡¯m half elf as well, but that¡¯s less noticeable.¡± She looked around. ¡°Where¡¯s that old-fashioned archer at? I was looking to talk with him and he¡¯s usually hanging out in this low-level area.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m right here, you unholy misbegotten brat!¡± Juan yelled from the branches of a tree behind her, his bow in hand. I noticed the arrow in his other hand. He had been ready to kill her. Who was this woman that Juan was willing to kill her?

    While I pondered this, the old man dropped from the tree and landed easily. Like it wasn¡¯t a twenty-foot drop. I was a babe, amongst gods.

    ¡°I missed you too, you old goat!¡±

    He looked at her angrily before dissolving into laughter and smiling. ¡°Come here, child. Let me look at you!¡± Harper laughed as well and hugged him. Juan, for as old as he looked, swung her around in his arms with ease. There was history here, and I, as the idiot newcomer, misread everything. He led her back to the camp, both still laughing. I followed and felt the fool.

    *******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    After eating, we sat around the fire. Harper had a wine that was much milder than Juan¡¯s rot-gut. Our bellies full, and cups of wine in hand, Juan and I listened to the news that Harper brought.

    ¡°The war in the shadow lands is not going well. Asanog¡¯s forces are much more extensive than originally thought, and he has hired mercenaries from across the western sea. From Nalloth.¡± She sipped her wine, waiting for a reaction from Juan.

    He looked down into his cup, swirling the wine around within it. He sat like that for a few minutes. When he finally spoke, he spoke slowly and quietly. ¡°Nalloth used to be such a serene place. Now, the country is in ruin from the unending civil war. I...we. We couldn¡¯t prevent the incursions that led to the death of the Queen. Now all that comes out of there are mercenaries. Men and women who hire themselves out to pay for their ongoing misery.¡± He looked up, pain still in his eyes. ¡°How many companies? Did you see which ones?¡±

    Harper looked grim. ¡°20 companies, but a few left the field for unknown reasons. But from what I saw, there were the usuals. The Boar, the Bear, the Eagle, the Moose, etc.¡±

    ¡°20 of the 35 companies, damn. Who left the field?¡±

    She didn¡¯t hesitate to answer. ¡°The Rat, the Sparrow, and the Falcon. At least, that¡¯s what we could determine. They did their best to hide it.¡±

    I remembered the mercenary I met soon after I got here. Didn¡¯t he say he was the leader of the Falcon group or something? ¡°Wait, did you say the Falcon company?¡±

    Harper looked at me. ¡°Yes, the Steel Falcons. Why, new guy?¡±

    ¡°Fuck. After I learned what spells I had and how to use them, this guy came into the meadow and introduced himself as Xander. He said he led a mercenary band called the Steel Falcon group. I got the location of the village and got out of there.¡±

    ¡°Well, boy. I guess your skipping of the tutorial makes a little more sense now, with that kind of interruption. You were very lucky. One Nallothian mercenary cook is way too powerful for you to handle, let alone the captain of the company! This changes things.¡± Juan drank the wine in one gulp and began packing his things. ¡°We¡¯re too close, under prepared. We need to leave and find some more people to help stop them.¡± He glanced at Harper. ¡°You alone? Did anyone come with you?¡±

    Harper looked puzzled. ¡°I came alone. The council decided you¡¯d only talk to someone you knew, who you trained. And not a group. But why run? You should be able to run circles around these guys, Juan. You know this area and how to wear them down. They¡¯ll retreat, not knowing how many of us there are.¡±

    ¡°NO!¡± Juan yelled, causing Harper to shrink back. ¡°I don¡¯t do that anymore! Too many people pay for my actions. The village. The people. They would pay for anything I did!¡±

    He stood there fuming and looked at me. ¡°And then there is Finn! He¡¯s not ready for this. He¡¯s only level two! I¡¯ve just barely started training him, Harper. No. We leave now.¡±

    Harper looked down, chastised. ¡°I just thought. I thought you had enough time to.....¡± She nodded slowly and put the few things she had pulled out back into her pack. The pained look she gave me was full of what I assumed was pity for me.

    In that moment, I realized I was not going to get a chance to make money and level around here, where it might be safe. While under the tutelage of an experienced mentor. We were leaving. Not just Harper and Juan. I was going with them, and there was a good chance I wouldn¡¯t survive. But my pack was ready. My mana was full.

    In minutes, we were moving north at a fast walk. It was late in the day and the sun¡¯s light made our shadows tall. It wasn¡¯t long before we left the Hollowbrook farm turnoff behind us and entered unfamiliar territory for me. No one spoke as we walked. My mind raced as I tried to figure out what was going on. That guy Xander, who hit on me, was the leader of a mercenary company working for who I assumed was not a good guy.

    Harper was part of the group fighting this...Asanog? And that group wanted Juan to come and help. I only fit into this as a what, a sidekick? A meat shield? No. I refused. I needed to survive. I needed to find the answers that would get me home. And for that, I had to step up and be more.

    I was thinking that when I heard hoofbeats behind us and was going to say something when Harper pushed me into the bushes. ¡°Stay down!¡± she told me before going to stand with Juan, who already had an arrow notched. He hadn¡¯t raised his bow yet. The sound of horses got louder until they were pulling up about thirty feet away. The light was good enough that I could see that they wore almost the exact same get-up as Xander had.

    Looking at my map, I could see that these mercenaries were red-tinged. I looked closer at the lead mercenary on the map and I could see he was an adjutant, named Mott. And Adjutant Mott was level 35. The eight mercenaries with him were a mix of low thirties. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I couldn¡¯t move, and I prayed they couldn¡¯t hear my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. I was a rabbit, pissing itself and hoping the wolves wouldn¡¯t eat it.

    Mot grinned. ¡°Well, ain¡¯t it the hero of the Dew-kissed Rose? Lose any other queens, hero?¡± the laughter of the men riding with Mott was an evil, mean thing to hear. Though I had only known Juan for a day, he had been kind to me. Of everything in this fucking place, Juan was the most real thing here. The only reason I had decided this wasn¡¯t some fever dream, or I had gone crazy. And they were laughing at him? Fuck no.

    I had stopped listening. My legs shook as I stood up. The adrenaline rushing into my blood made me want to run the fuck away, but I was just so angry.

    ¡°.... a mage. Wearing a red or brown poncho. Brown hair.¡± Mott said as I stepped forward, my right palm aimed at him. He looked at me with surprise as I said two words. ¡°Ice shard.¡± The massive javelin of ice pierced his head through his left eye and he fell off his horse, which spooked and took off, dragging his body. Mott¡¯s men pulled out their weapons, a variety of swords, clubs and other medieval murder utensils. I hit them once with chain lightning, causing two of them to drop their weapons.

    Unfortunately, that was about it. I was out of mana. And they were charging at me on horseback, and all I had was a goddamned dagger that I didn¡¯t even know how to use! But I didn¡¯t need to pull out my dagger. Arrows and knives sprouted from all but one and that one turned and rode like the devil himself was after him.

    ¡°SHIT!¡± Harper grabbed a free horse and rode off after the fleeing mercenary. Juan calmly walked over to the dead and began carefully removing his arrows from the corpses with his knife. I watched him for a moment before bending over and emptying my stomach. I had killed a man. In anger. I heaved until it hurt.

    I fell back onto my ass, horrified, clutching my knees. Juan finished and sat down next to me. He just sat there, saying nothing as I stared at the ground. ¡°I killed him, Juan. I killed that man because I was angry at those things he was saying and scared. So goddamned scared, Juan. I don¡¯t want to die here and it seems so much more real and terrible and...¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± He whispered.

    ¡°Why, Juan, why?¡± I said. I didn¡¯t care that I wasn¡¯t making sense. What I needed was for him to make sense of it for me.

    The old man sighed and shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t know what they wanted with you, Finn. But they were looking for you. And they knew of me. There is likely a bounty on my head in their country. I had hoped we could have dealt with them without bloodshed.¡± He put his hand on my shoulder. ¡°What¡¯s done is done, boy. Even if they decided we knew nothing, they were still going to attack. And die. This is not always a pleasant world, Finn. I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t have the time to prepare you for this.¡±

    There were tears in my eyes that I hadn¡¯t noticed until I wiped them away. We just sat there. Twenty minutes later, Harper rode up, jumping off the horse. ¡°We need to get going,¡± she exclaimed, and grabbed her knives from the bodies. She looted a couple of things from the bodies, including weapons.

    She looked at the horses grazing nearby. ¡°We don¡¯t have much time. I got him, but not before some of his friends saw me.¡± she pushed some strands of hair out of her face. ¡°Juan, grab the kid and let¡¯s go!¡±

    Juan looked at me, ¡°Finn? Do you know how to ride?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Grew up in the city. Rode a bike, if that helps.¡±

    ¡°Well then. We don¡¯t have a choice. You¡¯re going to have to learn on the go. And I doubt we have time to make friends with the horses.¡± He strolled to the three horses that hadn¡¯t run off and gathered them up.

    Harper got up on her pilfered horse and walked it over to me. She held out a short sword in a sheath. ¡°Here. You need something. I¡¯ll teach you how to use it later.¡±

    I took it from her with shaky hands. Not that I wanted to have a use for it. ¡°Thank you... for offering to teach me.¡± I looked into her eyes when I spoke. They were cold before, but there was a softening in them. Like she understood the horror and self loathing I was feeling.

    ¡°Yes, well... it¡¯ll take you some time to get used to it. I¡¯ll get you to where you don¡¯t slice your leg off. Now get up on your horse, on the left side.¡± She gave me a tight-lipped smile. I tried to return it and turned away. ¡°Oh, and New Guy?¡±

    I turned back to her. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Try not to fall off.¡±

 04 - â€¦Not Even Supposed To Be Here! Whatâ€™s Big, Green, And Sexy?

    We rode late into the night. I¡¯m proud to say I didn¡¯t fall off, though it was a close thing. The going was slow at first, so they could give me some instruction. I was lucky, the horse I had gotten on was mellow enough not to give me too much trouble.

    We had caught up to Mott¡¯s horse within an hour of riding, and the adjutant¡¯s body was battered and bloodied, his foot still stuck in the stirrup. The hole left by my ice shard spell went all the way through his head, but had filled up with a mixture of dirt and brain gunk. I almost fell off my horse, getting down to free the body, only to be joined by Harper.

    She got down and looked at the corpse¡¯s missing eye and possibly nose, poking at it with a long, thin-bladed knife. She shook her head and looked up at me as I maneuvered his foot out of the stirrup. ¡°How did you get him in one shot, new guy? You¡¯re only level two versus his 35. And why didn¡¯t you do more than hit the rest with that lightning spell? You just froze up.¡±

    I dropped the foot, suddenly feeling ill. The horse ignored me, exhausted. I looked away from her and the body, and at the saddlebags. These I could get into and not have to face the body of the man I¡¯d killed. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know. I was angry and afraid. And I threw everything I had into¡­ into killing him. And then, after I hit the others with chain lightning, I was out of mana.¡±

    She was quiet for a moment. ¡°Juan, is this a mage thing? Boosting a spell with more mana? I¡¯ve never heard of this before.¡±

    The old bowman sat on the horse, looking back down the road. ¡°You know mages are rare, Harper. The last one I knew was about thirty years ago. I didn¡¯t know enough about other classes then to know what to ask about. I was too focused on what I could do. But I remember watching her take down a rock giant we¡¯d stumbled into in one spell. There were five of us and we all would have died if not for her. Now that I think of it, she drank three regular mana potions afterwards.¡±

    So that is what I had done. ¡°Wait. This is normal?¡± I asked, while stuffing three large pouches of gold and some biscuits from the saddlebag in my backpack. Shit was expensive.

    Juan stroked his goatee. ¡°As far as I know, there isn¡¯t another class or subclass that can do that. Though Berserkers do something similar, except with their health. It is always a good idea not to be too close to one when they fight for that reason. A brush from their backswing can kill a person.¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s just a mage thing. A freaky, fucked up mage thing. Loot the body, New Guy. He¡¯s all yours.¡± Harper grinned at my discomfort over looting the body and moved away from what once was a man named Mott. I would never forget that moment, his one eye accusing me while the oozing mass where the other one should have been, testified to my horrendous act. It was a strange moment, and that saying that pops up in movies and tv shows, about how you never forget your first one, echoed in my head.

    I took his belt knife before I checked his pockets. Natives didn¡¯t have the same inventory system as us, so whatever he carried on him was it. I found a few more pieces of gold, a silver ring, and a letter from some woman. The letter I left in his pocket. I didn¡¯t want to know who else I had hurt with my actions.

    Our ride continued, and we turned west at the first crossroads we came to. By then, the moon had come up, and it was much easier to see. With no sign of habitation, Juan led us deep into the woods to make camp.

    ¡°Cold camp. No fire.¡± He said.

    I pulled the sleeping roll from behind the horse¡¯s saddle and put it to the smell test. Freshly cleaned, with more than a hint of horse. I felt somewhat lucky. All things considered, wash day for gear in the mercenary camp could have been tomorrow. And to sleep with someone else¡¯s stank in your nose was not a thing I wanted. I would have if that had been the case, but I wouldn¡¯t have liked it.

    I sat down on the bedding after helping tie the horses to a nearby tree. Juan had explained it had to be done with a long enough lead that they could eat if they wanted. I checked my stats, finding that I had a bunch of experience energy. I quickly accepted it and went up four. Fucking. Levels. I was angry that Mott was only worth four levels of experience to me. Was that what a man was worth?  I was chilled by my even thinking about the experience not being enough. Was I already getting used to it?

    I knew I needed to assign my stat points and set the feelings aside for a less stressful time. I had 10 points, two more than I expected. My intelligence and wisdom had already gone up to 25 each. I put two each into my strength, stamina, endurance, and charisma. After a moment, I put the last two into my intelligence. My stats were now: strength 17, stamina 16, endurance 16, dexterity 20, intelligence 27, wisdom 25, and charisma 17. Health had gone up to 149, mana to 151, and my carry weight went up to a whopping 553 max. Well, toss out those diapers and the binky. I was ready for pull-ups and crayons. I was a bit more powerful and was not thinking about how I got the experience. Nope.

    It wasn¡¯t until morning came and we were munching on dry biscuits that Harper noticed my level jump. She walked over and ruffled my hair. She had to reach to do it, so there¡¯s that. ¡°Good job, New Guy! Keep it up and you just might make it to level 10.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Stop that.¡± Feeling indignant about being treated as a red shirt, I glared at her. I remembered that one from Sean and had stopped what I was doing to ask him what it meant. I had to watch some clips from an old scifi show, including the crew going on missions away from the spaceship. Every extra that died in the clips wore a red shirt. At the time, it was pretty funny. ¡°Why can¡¯t you call me by my name, Harper?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I could. But then I would get attached and it would suck a lot more when I have to bury you, New Guy.¡± She smiled at me and turned away toward the horses.

    Ouch. I had nothing. No rejoinder, nothing remotely more clever than my muttered ¡°oh.¡± This place, hell, this world, was not one that bred familiarity. Why bother getting close to anyone new when they were just going to die when you look away for a second? So, for Harper, I was just another new guy. A red shirt. I am so fucked.

    Juan had an entirely different reaction to my leveling, getting me to tell him where I had put the points. ¡°As a mage, you need to put most of your points into intelligence, stamina, and dexterity. The mental strain from higher-level spells is less the higher your stamina is, and you¡¯ll want to be prepared for the longer casting times by increasing your Dexterity. No more points in strength.¡±

    I still wanted to put points into strength, but I trusted Juan knew what he was talking about. We left soon after, and the forest gave way to rolling hills. I didn¡¯t see any mountains in the distance, so it must have been something else that caused this. My map didn¡¯t show any mountains, but outside of where I had traveled, it was still dark. And kinda swirly. I hadn¡¯t noticed that before, and almost missed the blinking spot I had seen yesterday. It was west of us still, and since the road we were on was angling to the north, it was also slightly south of us. I decided to ask Juan about it.

    ¡°Hey Juan? I got a question about something I¡¯m seeing on the map.¡±

    Juan dropped back to ride next to me. ¡°On the map? Describe it to me.¡±

    I focused on the blinking spot. ¡°It¡¯s a blinking spot, slightly to the south but far west of us. Can you tell me what that is?¡±

    Juan got this unfocused look in his eyes, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Hmmm. I don¡¯t see any blinking spots. Are you sure it¡¯s not a swirl? That happens when you look at your map while in motion.¡±

    ¡°No, I see the swirls. This is an actual dot on the map that is blinking.¡±

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of such a thing. West of us, you say?¡±

    ¡°Far west. I don¡¯t know how to tell the distance, but I zoomed my map out once to see how far we came. And if there are mountains ahead. So its maybe halfway between us and the edge of the map.¡±

    He nodded his head. ¡°Okay¡­ I still don¡¯t see a blinking light. There is a mining camp in that general vicinity. And some caves.¡±

    Evidently, that was enough for my map to update in that vicinity. The blinking dot was near what may have been a cave entrance. The entrance was not far from what looked like a village with a pickaxe next to it. I had a feeling that this was important. ¡°Can we¡­. stop by there?¡±

    Juan¡¯s eyes focused and he looked thoughtful. ¡°It¡¯s out of our way. And it is very important that we pass on the information about where the Steel Falcon Company is. And gather enough of a force to root them out of that area. If people are being sent here again, then we need to have that starting area free of higher-level threats.¡±

    ¡°So, no. I don¡¯t think we can until we¡¯ve got those two things done. At the very least, pass on the information and get the ball rolling.¡± He sounded sure of this, and I didn¡¯t press the issue.

    ¡°In coming!¡± yells Harper. The sound of something large moving fast over the semi-flat land accompanied a pillar of dust coming right at us. Two more pillars appeared over the obscuring hill. She wheeled her horse around and started riding hard, away from whatever the fuck was coming at us.

    We raced after her. ¡°Why are we running?¡± I asked Juan.

    He glanced back. ¡°Do you know what a rhino is?¡±

    ¡°Yes! Large mammal, lives in Africa, has a horn on its nose? Is that what those are?¡±

    ¡°No, but they¡¯re about the same size. And they have teeth. And claws. We call them the brask. Brask have been spreading everywhere and we don¡¯t know where from.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Again, why are we running?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re higher level than me. Believe me, we don¡¯t have the firepower to stop them! So we ride and try to find a place to lose them.¡±

    But there was nothing but rolling hills, nothing close enough to be useful before the horses gave out. We went over yet another hill and saw what I could only describe as a stockade. We rode hard for it, hoping against hope there was someone who would let us in. And close the gate behind us.

    The gate was partially open as we approached, enough that we could get through on our horses. As the last horse was through, the gate was closed with a bang. We immediately came to a stop, my horse rearing at the multitude of spears leveled at us. I fell off. I think I had hit my head because everything went dark.

    ***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    I came to a few minutes later. I think it was a few minutes later. My horse was not under me, nor stamping on me. But the spears were still there. And the people holding them. They were green, with big ears, sharp teeth, and they towered over my prone figure. I couldn¡¯t tell how many there were, being as I was on the ground, but the amount of legs I saw made me think there was a lot.

    My head rang, and I wasn¡¯t really tracking what was going on. One of the green guys got down and looked into my eyes. Then he checked my head. He yelled¡­ something¡­ to his friends, and they lowered their spears. I thought I heard the voices of my companions, but I couldn¡¯t understand what they were saying. I passed out again and dreamed that I was on a boat. Gently moving through a dark sea. It was nice. Peaceful. I thought I heard singing in the distance.

    It was dark when I woke again. I was confused as to where I was, remnants of my dreams clouding my thoughts. I was in a cozy room, small with rugs on the walls. A candle flickered in a corner on a small table. My head still hurt, but in a distant sort of way. I tried to get up, but a hand held me down. A warm motherly voice accompanied the hand. ¡°Don¡¯t get up. You¡¯re safe here. You need to rest and heal.¡±

    I fell back asleep. This time, I didn¡¯t dream.

    When I awoke again, it was to the sound of something being ground against stone or concrete. It sounded a lot like a rock grinding against a sidewalk. I noticed a woman with brown hair, her back mostly turned to me, working a mortar and pestle. The sound was coming from there.

    My mouth was dry, but I whispered. ¡°Where am I?¡±

    The woman didn¡¯t stop what she was doing, but she turned to look at me. Her skin was a dark green in the low light, and I noticed her pointed ears. They were like Harper¡¯s ears, but only in the points. This woman¡¯s ears were larger, with the tips of her ears pointing more out than up. She was older than me, likely in her late thirties if I could judge, and her brown eyes were kind.

    She smiled unabashedly at my consideration. ¡°You¡¯re in my bed. Since we have little in the way of space, it¡¯s the best I could do. Would you believe I used to have a clinic? With twenty beds?¡± she said. ¡°All gone now. As is my home. As is the settlement we had built.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± I asked.

    Her smile faltered. ¡°The war, of course. Asanog¡¯s war against your folk. How do you not know this?¡± She finished her grinding and emptied the powder into a mug on the table. She added some water from a steaming kettle I hadn¡¯t noticed and came over to the bed, sitting on a stool beside it. She brought the mug to my lips. ¡°Here now, drink some of this.¡±

    I sipped the hot, bitter liquid gratefully. My parched throat felt better. ¡°My folk? I¡¯m sorry. I just came to this world a few days ago and I really don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on.¡±

    She widened her eyes a little at the mention of coming to this world. ¡°So your people aren¡¯t from the east? I didn¡¯t know¡­ no matter. You are hurt and need healing. And I am the only healer for this camp and for many miles. I¡¯ll get you back on your feet.¡±

    ¡°My friends?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Your friends are fine. That whole misunderstanding when you all rode in chased by brask¡­ Well, we Goblins don¡¯t like being startled in normal times, let alone when we are running and hiding.¡± She made me drink some more of what I thought of as tea before she continued. ¡°Everything is just fine now, and no one else got hurt. They checked in on you while you slept. But like everyone knows, Goblins take care of their guests.¡±

    The way she said the last did not sound ominous based on her tone and the kindness in her eyes. Yet, I thought goblins were supposed to be bad guys. That¡¯s how Sean had always talked about them. And those kinds of goblins would also take care of their ¡°guests.¡±

    By the time I got the tea down, I was already feeling better. I sat up. My head, which had felt terrible earlier, did not fall off. It ached, though, and my feeling of wooziness hadn¡¯t fully gone away. And that may have been why I spoke so openly about my confusion about goblins to this kind soul helping me get better. ¡°You¡¯re a goblin? I thought goblins were supposed to be evil creatures that ate people.¡±

    ¡°What kind of nonsense is that? Is that how goblins are where you come from?¡± she had this horrified look on her face, which flushed a little. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know we are a peaceful people. I¡¯ve never heard such hateful drivel.¡±

    Again, I fucked up. This would go on the list of things that kept me awake at night. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! I didn¡¯t mean to imply you, I mean any of you¡­ they were stories from my world where we don¡¯t have any real goblins. I don¡¯t know why I said any of that. I know nothing about your people, and I-I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    She still looked a little flushed, but no longer like she was going to bite my head off. ¡°I guess you don¡¯t know any better. But don¡¯t you go saying things like that anymore. The world is not a kind place right now, and we have not had an easy time of it. It would not do for anyone to hear of anyone considering us monsters. Being refugees is bad enough.¡±

    ¡°I¡­I won¡¯t. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    She nodded her head curtly. Her face softened a bit, and she felt my forehead. Her hand was warm. ¡°Your fever¡¯s gone, which is good. Though why you had one in the first place is beyond me. Your color is better, so I would say you should be able to walk around a bit this evening. If I had been able to bring all of my supplies, I would have had you back on your feet and healthy days ago. As it is, what little healing magic I have and the herbs that I have been able to gather kept you from dying from your head injury.¡±

    ¡°Thank you¡­ ah, I don¡¯t know your name.¡± I said. Grateful for her healing and moving on from my fuck up. But I was out for days? That was not good.

    ¡°My name¡¯s Marta. Do you remember your name?¡± she replied.

    I wasn¡¯t expecting that question, but it made sense for her to check if my head was right after a fall like that. ¡°Thank you, Marta. My name is Finn.¡±

    ¡°Good, and how old are you Finn?¡± she asked, apparently checking off the boxes like a doctor back home would.

    ¡°23 last August.¡± I replied. I hoped she wouldn¡¯t start asking too many questions, like my pet¡¯s name or favorite job.

    ¡°Good, your memory seems fine. Though I don¡¯t know this August you talk about. Is that a festival or something? Not that it matters. Are you hungry?¡± She reached over to a nightstand I hadn¡¯t noticed and showed me a tray of food.

    I shook my head and regretted it. ¡°Ah. No, thank you. Maybe in a little while.¡±

    She nodded and set the tray back. ¡°Then you should get some more sleep. I¡¯ll let your friends know that you¡¯re better.¡± She got up from the stool and I listened to her leave, not wanting to move my head to watch her go. I eased myself down again and looked up at the bare ceiling. To sleep in a goblin¡¯s bed. An attractive goblin¡¯s bed. Whom I had insulted. I drifted off, thoughts of how much of an idiot I am not hampering my exit of the waking world.

 05 - Snortâ€™s My Girl! Taste That Monster Meat

    Harper watched in horror as Finn¡¯s horse bucked and threw him in front of the hastily formed spear wall of the goblins. Before she could do anything, the goblins had whisked him away. She looked at her former mentor and his calm demeanor surprised and steadied her. He looked like this was completely normal, like the situation wasn¡¯t very dangerous.

    ¡°Juan. What are they doing with Finn?¡± she asked. Harper really hoped he didn¡¯t think she was getting soft on him, not that he would tell Finn. Despite her experience, she hoped Finn didn¡¯t turn out like the last crop of new arrivals. The crop that all died, except for her. She was a Nineties girl, raised on rom-coms and goth. Her exposure to things that would help her was less than Finn¡¯s. Yet she had survived. Hell, she¡¯d thrived here. Her old life back on earth was shit.

    Juan glanced at her and back at the goblins. ¡°Finn¡¯s in excellent hands. They are taking him to their healer and he¡¯ll be fine.¡± Behind them, the walls shook with the attacks of the brask. ¡°We have to deal with the brask. The goblins, despite their martial reaction to our entering their stockade, are not prepared to deal with them.¡±

    Harper snorted. ¡°How the hell are we supposed to deal with three brask? One, maybe. I¡¯d even be willing to try two.¡±

    Juan smiled. ¡°Harper. We have the advantage. They aren¡¯t charging as much as bashing themselves against this delightfully strong wooden palisade. And you know what that means, right?¡±

    Harper hung her head. ¡°Yes. I have to sneak up on them.¡± She hated doing that. Yes, she had specialized her class from Rogue to Rogue Infiltrator. Yes, it was effective. She could sneak up on most enemies and do a massive amount of damage. And, depending on how sturdy they were, I could do all kinds of mischief. Adding debuffs was very satisfying. But then I had to get away. The hitting was easy, the running was stressful.

    Juan chuckled at her reticence. When she had chosen the rogue class, she had been in love with the mystique of being so wicked. It had fit with the view of herself at the time. And what teenager really knows who she is? Harper was still glad that many of the more ¡°dark¡± or ¡°bad¡± classes hadn¡¯t been available. It would have been hella cringe if she¡¯d been able to choose a warlock or dark cleric class, at least in her eyes. Even most of the language she¡¯d used at the time¡­ it made her shudder just thinking about it. The whole valley girl thing. And being forced to try and fit into the white, rich, and pretty mold.

    Juan had put up with most of it, letting her get it out of her system. In that, and many other things, he was a better father figure than Harper¡¯s asshole of a father ever was. Like after her first year here, after her 17<sup>th</sup> birthday, he let Harper rage at him for everything she had gone through. Not everything she had gone through since getting here, but everything before that. About being torn away from the world she knew. From friends, her shitty high school. From her mom.

    How could she not still be angry?

    ¡°And you¡¯ll distract them so I can get to safety, old man? Shoot them and not me?¡±

    ¡°Of course. You go figure out your route and how long you¡¯ll need, and I¡¯ll go chat with our hosts about our plan and Finn¡¯s care.¡± And off he went.

    The inside of the stockade walls had scaffolding for the goblin guards to look over the wall. With the brask attacking the wall, it looked rather wobbly. It didn¡¯t really matter much. She doubted it would cause her to fall. Harper went up the nearest ladder, not having to adjust to the rung height. Not being tall had some advantages!

    At the top, she looked down at the brask attacking the wall. One brask. ¡°And where are your friends?¡± She muttered. What, can¡¯t a girl talk to herself? I glanced around, not seeing the other two brask. It looked like they had got lucky. Dealing with only one brask was a much simpler prospect. Not only that, but there were a few rock formations that could be used to get out of the brask¡¯s reach.

    Harper could see where a sneaky gal could easily move through the tall grass, almost up to the brask, which she decided to refer to as Snort. Snort was not happy with the wall preventing her from getting to her prey. But Snort was not yet making a dent in the wall. And Snort had not looked up at all. Harper almost wondered if she could just drop onto the pissed off Snort and ride her like a bull. Juan would be horrified. That, in itself, would have made it worth it.

    She sighed. It had been a long time since she had done things like that. Besides, even if she could ride the thing, how would she get off without being ripped to shreds? Snort¡¯s claws looked very sharp. Harper decided she would go over the wall, crawl through the tall grass about fifty feet out, and then swing around to be farther behind Snort. Then, she would sneak up, slice and dice, debuff, and run like hell to the nearest rock. If she was quick enough, and she thought she was, the whole attack and retreat would take her less than a minute.

    Harper almost felt sorry for Snort.

    According to Juan, the goblin council was more than happy to just let them deal with Snort. Further, the council would let them stay as long as needed, provided Juan and Harper didn¡¯t mind helping around the small settlement. She was inclined to move on as quickly as possible, but the healer Marta reported Finn would need to rest for several days, even after he had woken up.

    ¡°Have you figured out your route to the brask?¡± Juan asked.

    ¡°Yes. And Snort won¡¯t see me coming.¡±

    ¡°Snort? You don¡¯t need to name everything, Harper.¡± He gave her a pointed look.

    The Cambion woman smiled as prettily as she could, just to irritate him. ¡°Of course I do. Nothing should die without a name.¡± She looked over the wall at the irritated brask. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Snort? You like having a name, don¡¯t you?¡± It finally looked up at her, making a loud, angry noise. ¡°Such a good Snort!¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t help to mock,¡± Juan admonished his former pupil. She knew he was right, but just couldn¡¯t help it. He rolled his eyes as she just grinned at him. ¡°Brat. You just do this to irritate me.¡±

    Harper widened her eyes, and she frowned. ¡°Juan! I would never do that. You know how I love and respect you.¡± He turned away. Muttering to himself. ¡°Besides, I couldn¡¯t imagine irritating the person who would be shooting arrows in my general direction.¡±

    Juan looked out at the ground from the gate and the palisade out to the hill. ¡°So which way are you going to break after attacking the brask¡­. Er, Snort?¡±

    She pointed at the rock outcropping 30 feet out. ¡°Those rocks off to the right. I think I can get on top of them before Snort can turn and run me down.¡±

    ¡°Good. That should work. Where¡¯s the other two?¡± he asked.

    Harper shrugged. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen them anywhere. There are few places for one of them to hide.¡±

    ¡°Harper, we know little about the brask, let alone all they do. So please, be careful.¡±

    ¡°Come on, Juan. You know me. And I¡¯m an Infiltrator. I¡¯m always careful.¡±

    Juan grunts, getting his bow ready. ¡°That¡¯s what worries me. I¡¯ll be ready.¡±

    She walked away from him, stepping around the guards until she got to the corner of the stockade. The wall was easy to vault, and she easily dropped the thirty feet to the ground. As always, the rogue land quietly on her feet, legs easily absorbing the force of the drop. She heard one goblin say something about the rocks, but wasn¡¯t sure what. It really didn¡¯t matter to her, as she was confident in her plan. Like a shadow, she disappeared into the tall grass.

    For the next twenty minutes, the purple skinned Cambion moved slowly and quietly to her planned point, far enough from Snort that the brask shouldn¡¯t know she was there. Harper stalked the massive beast through the grass. As she got within five feet of the brask dubbed Snort, the rogue called two lovely long knives into her hands. This was it. She mentally activated her sneak attack, Demoralize. Five seconds. Four. Three. Two. She was speed. She was death. Harper slammed into the back of Snort and stabbed her three times. The rogue¡¯s back arched, and she twisted in her backwards leap. A picture of grace while she flew away from the howling Snort. Harper landed fifteen feet away, facing the rocks, and ran for their safety. She leaped confidently to the top of the pile. Then realized what the goblin had said so off-hand; he hadn¡¯t seen the rock piles before.

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    The second brask surged to its feet below me as Harper stumbled on its back. ¡°Fuck!¡± she cried as she flopped down hard on her butt, stabbing long knives deep into the brask¡¯s hardened skin. The brask cried out in pain and stumbled sideways, almost throwing her off. It was Snort! The brask had turned faster than expected and charged after the fleeing Cambion, an arrow sprouting from her right eye. Which was likely why she had run right into the brask Harper clung to without trying to stop.

    More arrows hit Snort¡¯s back and shanks as the brask Harper was on, which she decided to call Rodeo, turned and attacked Snort! ¡°What¡¯s up, Snort? You gonna let Rodeo attack you like that?¡± She didn¡¯t care whether they could understand. Damn! Snort¡¯s my girl! She thought as she stabbed one of her cheap knives into Rodeo¡¯s back near her own right foot and another by the left to brace against. Her feet braced, unable to get off, she couldn¡¯t allow herself to be thrown.

    Snort may not have understood, but she was in a pain-filled rage, biting and clawing at Rodeo. Rodeo reared up and came down hard on Snort¡¯s shoulder, knocking her off balance. Harper got a brief look at the stockade wall, and the area above the top was filled with green faces watching and cheering. The sight inspired her to pull back up into a sitting position, where she grinned like an idiot and waved with one hand. She was alive and had an audience! As the brask fought, she had to stop and grab the hilt of her long knife. Snort was getting back to her feet. She was NOT looking good. She was unsteady, and an arrow flew past her to hit Rodeo.

    ¡°Watch it, old man!¡± Harper yelled at him. She needed to figure out what to do about her situation. But before she could puzzle out how to get her purple self to safety, Snort lunged forward. Snort¡¯s jaws closed on Rodeo¡¯s neck, ripping it out. Again, the rogue flew, this time propelled by Rodeo¡¯s thrashing and dying. Harper was not a cat. And though it was doubtful whether any cat had her level of dexterity, it didn¡¯t change the fact her body wasn¡¯t built like a cat. Instead of landing on her feet, which would have looked really cool, she landed hard on her back. She cried out in pain as she slid ten feet, the dirt and stones grinding into her back.

    Harper rolled over and pushed to her feet, her back on fire. Snort was not coming to make her a snack. Instead, the brask swayed on her feet before bellowing out in pain and fear, falling on her side. The other pile of rocks was not visible to Harper, so she ran towards the dying Snort and the corpse of Rodeo, the pounding of her heart making it hard to hear. An arrow hit the ground ahead and to the left of her, so she changed directions to the right. She ran that direction until an arrow plonked into the ground to her right, forcing her left. But then an arrow hit the ground right in front of the rogue and she threw herself backwards with as much force as she could. The third brask landed right where she would have been without the directions from Juan saving her.

    Harper¡¯s situational awareness was a little scrambled. She hadn¡¯t heard this one, let alone sensed it in any other fashion. The massive predator put its head low and slowly stalked toward her like a tiger she had seen in the zoo as a little girl. It was so beautiful. So frightening. She would have loved to have that tiger there at that moment. She could have fought the tiger, could have beaten it to death with her bare hands.

    But this was not a tiger. Throwing knives popped into Harper¡¯s hands as she scrambled to her feet. She threw the two daggers in quick succession. It grabbed the first knife in its teeth, snapping the blade while the second bounced off its shoulder.

    ¡°No, no, no!¡± she yelled, and pulled two more, throwing them while quickly backing up. They both went wide, one of them skipping off a rock. Harper freaked out. She hadn¡¯t missed like this for years! Her next two knives hit exactly where she had aimed. The two throwing knives embedded themselves deep in the left eye of the brask. ¡°How do like that¡­ uh¡­ Dickface! Yeah! Cyclops motherfucker!¡±

    She was trouble, but would not give up just yet. Juan had her back, even if he didn¡¯t have a clear shot. Dickface the brask snarled, glaring with his one good eye. His depth perception was off, so he was not putting his feet down quite right. Harper expected him to adjust quick, so she needed to take out his other eye. She needed another good throw. Or two. The Cambion didn¡¯t get them. Two more knives lost. The next two knives struck his face next to the good eye, stuck in bone.

    Harper swore. Only two more throwing knives left for her to use. Her back flared with pain as she threw her last two decent throwing knives. They flew off into the grass, turning end over end in their perfectly balanced way. She groaned. She had paid a lot for those knives.

    Though she still had several random knives picked up here and there. The next ones pulled were a hunting knife and a dinner knife. The rogue threw them, praying for the best. But they landed in the dirt at Dickface¡¯s feet. The massive beast snorted and began towards her, and she knew there would be no more throwing. She drew her rapier and dropped into a low stance.

    An arrow hit him in the side with the force of a gale and knocked the massive predator onto its side. Juan had pulled out the big guns. Dickface got up, only to get hit in the head by another arrow, catching it on fire. The brask screamed as its head burned. Harper straightened up as much as her back would allow, grinning as the eye she just couldn¡¯t hit popped, boiling from the heat. Her confidence restored, she sauntered up to it as another arrow hit it in the flank and frost spread out from the impact. Juan was using up his elemental roulette bow too fast. She stabbed it in the left eye socket, piercing its brain. ¡°Goodnight, sweet Dickface.¡±

    Harper walked over to where Snort was wheezing on her side, next to the dead Rodeo. ¡°Sorry, Snort. Thanks for the help.¡± With a quick thrust, the brask was put out of her misery. The injured and exhausted rogue pulled a rag from her backpack and began cleaning her sword.

    Juan and several goblins approached warily as Harper sat against Snort¡¯s back. ¡°Thank you for saving me back there, old man. I know how expensive that was.¡±

    Juan smiled. ¡°Of course. I wasn¡¯t going to lose you just because the bow has limited uses between repairs, Harper. Did they have anything good?¡±

    She pointed to the pile of random junk. ¡°Odds and ends, a freakin wagon wheel of all things. And that ship¡¯s anchor. Plus some jewels and a small chest of gold. A fez.¡±

    Juan regarded it. ¡°None of that makes much sense for loot.¡±

    ¡°Not really. I¡¯m keeping the fez.¡± She replied.

    ¡°Is it enchanted?¡± he asked.

    Harper pulled the red hat out of her inventory, turning in her hands. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s just a cool hat. First one I¡¯ve seen here. I can add it to my collection of weird things. My uncle had one.¡±

    ¡°So, how do you want to split the valuable stuff? Fifty-fifty?¡±

    She thought for a moment, considering his offer. ¡°How about 25-25 and we give the rest to our hosts as a gift?¡±

    Juan nodded. ¡°Yes! that is a wonderful idea! Councilman Brent, would that be an acceptable gift?¡±

    The older goblin Juan addressed smiled and bowed. ¡°I accept this generous gift with thanks. It will be very useful in the coming days.¡± Juan pulled his share from the chest. I did too, closing it. Councilman Brent touched a couple of stronger looking goblins. ¡°Please take this back to the stockade, and to the council room. You and you and you. Grab anything useful that our friends here don¡¯t want.¡± A team led by a goblin that looked like a butcher began cutting up the brask and loading a wagon with the meat they pulled out.

    Juan held out a hand to his exhausted friend, and she grabbed it, letting him pull her to her feet. ¡°You alright, brat?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, just a little worn. Already used a health potion. I could use a drink and a decent chair to sit in. With a thick, soft cushion.¡± She rubbed her behind and despite the health potion, it was still sore from landing on Rodeo and landing on the ground after being thrown from rodeo. It hadn¡¯t taken too much time to gather up the thrown knives. ¡°I lost three excellent throwing knives on top of one that broke. Three!¡±

    The goblins shuffled people around so that we would have places to sleep. It was a kind gesture that the council did not request. So many of the ideas from home on fantasy monsters were wrong. Many of the differences were small. Like unicorns being unwilling to be touched by non-virgins. Not true. In fact, the gentle herbivores went mad over the smell of virgin blood and became carnivorous until satiated.

    The goblin differences were big ones. They were a kind people, though somewhat easily startled, believed in helping others. They had a rich culture, were known as honest traders, and accomplished negotiators. Though not very warlike, they were surprisingly fierce fighters.

    And they made decent beer and wine. Which they shared generously along with cooked brask that night. Fire roasted, fried, baked, they did it all. The festivities went late into the night, and Harper drank a little too much. After drinking her hangover tea the next morning, and checked in on Finn. With no changes, Harper decided to see what she could do around the community and worked most of the day.

    She found Juan looking over the wall. He spoke without turning around. ¡°Things are much worse than I knew.¡±

    The young woman stepped up to the wall next to him and leaned on it. ¡°Yes. We¡¯ve been pushed back. Refugees are becoming the norm as we retreat, mile after mile. Did I tell you about Asanog¡¯s priests?¡±

    ¡°No, you didn¡¯t. Tell me.¡±

    ¡°They are getting around our lines. And they preach that we, all of us, are the invaders that need to be defeated. Good or bad, we are the enemy. More and more people are believing them. They are already telling the old stories again. The ones about the monsters that came before you? The ones that make the Lich look like a saint.¡±

    Juan shook with anger. ¡°We. Are. Not. Them.¡±

    ¡°I know. But not all of us are like you. And then it was years before anyone new came through¡­ I heard stories about mages. Old stories. None of them were good.¡±

    Juan looked at his former pupil, a strange look in his eyes. Like pity, but not for her. ¡°Please don¡¯t tell Finn. I think it will worry him and weigh heavily on his shoulders. He¡¯s not like the men and women in those stories. He doesn¡¯t want power. I don¡¯t think anything motivates him other than getting home.¡±

    ¡°You might be right. But¡­ I don¡¯t know how to say this.¡± She looked out at the torn up sea of grass, denoting the fight the day before. ¡°Finn is very willing to use the power he has. When I found him pissing in a bush, he noticed me, but did nothing until he finished. Which isn¡¯t strange in itself, but his reaction to a potential threat¡­ if I wasn¡¯t quick enough, he would have blasted me where I stood. I think he would have been devastated, but he wouldn¡¯t have hesitated.¡±

    ¡°I saw and was ready to kill him if he tried. I am always ready to kill him if he shows any sign of going down the same path as every other mage.¡±

    The look in his eyes scared Harper. He would do it, even though he was already attached to Finn. She liked the kid, too. But those stories scared her. Generations of oppression, fear, and death. ¡°I hope he doesn¡¯t. For everyone¡¯s sake.¡± And for the old man¡¯s sake.

 06 - Traveling On! Of Quills And Pretty Eyes

    The bowl of soup Marta brought me was more broth than soup. I didn¡¯t recognize the meat or the sparse vegetables. But I really couldn¡¯t expect to in a world quite separate from my own. Don¡¯t get me wrong, it was good. And it filled me up nicely. It had been two days since I had woken up from my mini-coma, yet I was not as hungry as I should have been. Made me wish I had access to cannabis, but I doubted that grew here. Just had to get back to normal without it.

    Harper came by to check on me while I mused over the lack of a joint. ¡°Your looking better, New Guy. Wanna tell me what¡¯s so fascinating about that tapestry?¡±

    I looked up at her in shock. She hadn¡¯t made a noise when she entered the room or when she sat down. I wasn¡¯t ever going to get used to that. ¡°I¡­ I was thinking it would be nice to smoke some cannabis since I have had little of an appetite.¡±

    ¡°Cannabis? Oh, you mean weed! God, I wish we had that. Not that it was very easy to get before I was taken¡­ there was talk of legalizing it, but that was a pipe dream.¡±

    ¡°Really? Because when I left, it was legal in most states. You could go down to any of the dispensaries and buy it. Hell, most gas stations had joints you could buy.¡± I sighed bitterly. ¡°Not that it matters anymore.¡±

    Harper laughed. ¡°Yeah. There are some things you can smoke here, but I would not recommend them.¡± She glanced at the bowl. ¡°So how¡¯d you like the brask meat?¡±

    I blinked. ¡°Brask meat? Did I miss something? I thought they were too strong to take on.¡±

    ¡°Oh, do I have a story to tell you, New Guy! But that¡¯s for later, around a campfire. Needless to say, I got them. With some help from our favorite bow-wielding old guy, of course!¡± She sat there looking smug while I just stared at her in awe.

    ¡°Wow. It¡¯s going to take me a while to get to that level of ability.¡±

    Harper smiled. ¡°Yep, I¡¯m pretty awesome! But enough about me. Tell me how you are feeling.¡±

    I looked at my hands. ¡°I¡¯m exhausted. You saw me last night. I couldn¡¯t make it too far on my feet and had to be helped back here. Marta tells me it¡¯s okay, that my recovery will take time. That even if she had the ¡®good¡¯ potions, I¡¯d still have to get my strength back.¡±

    ¡°That clicks with what I know. Health potions, even the top of the line ones, only do so much. The worse your hurt, the more of your energy it takes to heal. I¡¯ve heard of potions of regeneration that can heal just about any injury without as high a price, but I¡¯ve never seen one. Say, can you brew potions? That would be an excellent way to make money¡­.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a thing? Man. It would be nice, but no. I can enchant things, but only level two right now.¡± I sat there thinking about it. ¡°Could I learn how to make potions?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. That¡¯s a question for Juan. He¡¯s helping break up the soil for cultivation. Can you believe that the soil in this grassland is like a foot of roots before you hit dirt? It reminds me of settlers back home, making houses out of sod in the Midwest when it was called the Great Plains.¡±

    I yawned. ¡°Sorry, not bored. Just tired.¡± I felt bad because I liked Harper¡¯s company. It was just nice having someone near my age to talk with about things from home. ¡°Can you come back later? I enjoy talking about home.¡±

    Harper laughed, ¡°Alright, New Guy. Get some rest.¡±

    The next several days, Harper and sometimes Juan would come chat with me. They encouraged me to rest, but also to move around. It took a week before Marta was willing to give me the go ahead to leave her care. She gave me several packets of herbs and told me to use one daily until they were gone. It was so normal, so mundane, that I couldn¡¯t help but smile. I thanked her, and we were sent off by the entire community.

    My horse, like the other three, was very excited to be on the move again. So much so that her normally placid nature was replaced by the need to run. My balance was still off, so I white-knuckled her reins for the entire first few hours.

    When we stopped to have some lunch and give the horses a chance to rest, I almost fell down. My legs were like wet noodles. Juan made a small fire for tea, the medicinal one Marta had sent me with and some other blend for them. I sat sipping my tea, balancing a travel plate with some food on my knee. ¡°The goblins were not what I was expecting.¡± I said.

    Juan nodded. ¡°Not everything here can be expected, based on what stories, games, or movies led us to believe back home. Try not to jump to conclusions.¡±

    I let what he said sink in for a moment. I had already made that mistake. More than once. ¡°Why are there so many similarities, then? All those stories, like nursery rhymes or fairy tales.¡±

    ¡°Coincidence, maybe? Logically, in a big enough universe over a long enough time, our lives could be stories somewhere else. But there are other possibilities.¡± Juan replied.

    Harper mumbled something around her food, unintelligible. We looked at her, Juan with annoyance. She finished chewing, swallowed, and took a sip of her tea. ¡°I said, if you were listening, that the presence of a way here and a way back suggests that some people returned home, telling stories of their adventures even that far back.¡± She stuffed some more food in her mouth, done talking for the moment.

    ¡°That would make sense. But if they got home, how did they do it?¡±

    ¡°Chances are that they had different requirements.¡± Juan replied. ¡°And I¡¯d like to think if they did, it was easier than what we were given. I have my doubts.¡±

    ¡°So, it may or may not have happened? Wait. Let¡¯s see if I got this straight. This has been going on for centuries, so it¡¯s not the government. Who¡¯s been doing this to us, then? Aliens? Old gods? The Illuminati?¡±

    I waited for Juan¡¯s answer as he chewed some meat. ¡°Who knows? I suspect the Lich knows, but he isn¡¯t sharing that information with anyone. Any guess is valid for now. We all go through this, Finn. The questioning, the anger. What we do with it is important.¡± He waved his cup of tea expansively before he continued. ¡°All of this, this world and its people, are affected by what we do. Even the good we do can have negative consequences. But ask yourself: is it better to do nothing, or worse, lash out, or is it better to help people?¡±

    Harper¡¯s abrupt laugh startled me, and I almost lost my precariously balanced plate of food. ¡°Please, old man! That level of philosophical sophistry requires at least one decent bottle of wine. Don¡¯t burden him with these questions before he¡¯s ready.¡±

    Juan looked sharply at her. It was a clear admonishment, a teacher dealing with a former student that hadn¡¯t the experience to direct his lesson. She still grinned at him, not bothered by his glare. Juan looked back at me. ¡°I think he can handle these questions. Finn, what were you studying again?¡±

    ¡°Political science. I¡¯ve had my share of classic philosophies. It¡¯s kind of a requirement.¡±

    ¡°So, as I assumed, you can handle these ethical and moral questions.¡± He glanced at Harper to see if she had anything to add. ¡°Now, take our goblin friends. They are casualties of a war directly aimed at us. All of us who have come to this world have changed its course of history in both helpful and destructive ways. There are certain ideas and inventions in this world that are beyond the current level of development. Things that shouldn¡¯t be here. And yet, in many ways, this world is more advanced than our own. We cannot know where this world would be if we had not come here. The magic of this world is much more advanced than its science, with levels of intricacies and art that would astound even Einstein.¡±

    ¡°More to the point, this war on the western edge of this continent is being waged by people who believe that we must be stopped. So much so that, based on what Harper has told me, it¡¯s part of their religion. The implications of that are even worse, suggesting a deity is directing them. Our actions, and the actions of those that have come before us, have resulted in this war. We and those like us are responsible for everyone who has been hurt by it.¡±

    ¡°Are we though? Did not this empire start the hostilities? Hell, it¡¯s in the name. Empires attack and try to absorb other countries. That is their nature, to be imperial.¡± I replied, not liking the simplistic view.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°What I know abut the Empire of Guanathas is that it formed within the last few decades with the express focus of dealing with what they call the invader threat. Us,¡± added Harper. ¡°In that sense, he¡¯s right, Finn. And since we have the power to help, doesn¡¯t that obligate us to do so?¡±

    ¡°Hey, if I wanted to be a social worker or a superhero, I would have gone that route. The people with the swords, the people directing them to stab and cut, and the people in charge are the ones responsible for the harm they have done. I would agree that they aren¡¯t going to pony up the supplies, doctors, and money to help those they have harmed without being forced to, but their actions are not my responsibility.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t disagree with you, boy, but until then, the survivors still need help. If not us, then who? There¡¯s no red cross here. No salvation army or other group that does that kind of work. Other than the Dark Sisters, and they are a small order without many supporters.¡±

    ¡°Dark Sisters? That doesn¡¯t sound good.¡± I said.

    Harper shrugged, ¡°They worship Hiantsa, goddess of the darkness. And healing. She¡¯s a little disturbing, and most people shy away from her.¡±

    I shook my head at the oddness of it all. ¡°Some of these deities make little sense. How are healing and darkness connected? I could understand light and healing¡­¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter, Finn. I¡¯ve been here for a long time, and these people don¡¯t deserve to have their lives turned upside down just because of us. I¡¯ve contributed to the suffering of others through my actions. Maybe that¡¯s why I feel like this. I cannot stand by for long without trying to help.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay. I don¡¯t know if I agree with your reasoning, but I get helping those who need it. And if I am hearing you right, you¡¯re saying that my problems don¡¯t mean squat. And that my desire to get home is not only a pipe dream, but could distract from this conflict that I, not even here a month, had nothing to do with. That¡¯s kind of fucked up, Juan.¡±

    ¡°No, not just fucked up. You could die because of it, just for being you.¡±

    The rolling plains eventually became broken up with thickets as we got closer to the mountains. There was a river, its tributaries, and creeks running through the area, and the increased water provided a better environment for trees. The change was good, as we were running low on food, and there had been little in the way of game or threats.

    The road itself had changed from packed dirt to sections of stone. While the grasses bordering it became more verdant and mixed with other plants.

    We had killed some snake things, but their meat was as poisonous as their bite was venomous. I leveled up once, reaching level seven. This increased my mana pool to 165, and I increased my stamina and dexterity to 17 and 21, respectively. Other than the venom sacks that Harper gathered carefully, there wasn¡¯t any loot to be had.

    We were attacked three days later when we left the road to camp. It was late afternoon, and we were all hungry. Harper had spotted some rabbits and deer and we were going to hunt for our dinner to increase our dwindling food stores. The site was a well-used camp, situated under the boughs of a large tree. It was a pretty area, and I heard what I assumed to be a creek not too far off. Everything seemed normal until I noticed the spoor of some larger canine and what seemed to be dropped quills from a large porcupine.

    ¡°Looks like some coyotes got a porcupine,¡± I said, holding up a rather large quill.

    Harper spat a curse and asked, ¡°How many?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d say eight, maybe 10 by the tracks? Why? Coyotes won¡¯t bother us. I don¡¯t see a den and there¡¯s lots of game around here.¡±

    ¡°Those aren¡¯t coyotes, Finn. Those quills point to something worse.¡± Juan replied. ¡°It¡¯s a pack of quillotes. And they are surrounding us right now.¡±

    The strange, high-pitched growls I heard around us were punctuated by an odd slipping sound and rattling of something like loosely tied sticks or dried reeds. There were many more than ten stalking towards us, and the horses were not happy with it at all.

    They looked mostly like coyotes, in size and sort of in shape. The mass of quills on their backs and tails changed that view entirely. You know how a cat puffs out when startled or pissed? Imagine that, only coyote size¡­ with large, long quills. With drool that dripped from their teeth-filled jaws. I¡¯ve never seen a healthy coyote that was this aggressive, and coyotes are everywhere back home. Whether or not you see them, coyotes are there. Even in some grocery store¡¯s produce sections.

    These quillotes looked not only aggressive with their quills sticking out through their fur but also very healthy. My horse, a mare that Harper had named Gonna Bite it, was not having it. I struggled to keep her somewhat still, but she started backing up. ¡°Can I hit them with chain lightning? Might get a few of them quick.¡±

    I heard Juan behind me, ¡°Yes, Finn, my bow¡¯s not ready. See how many you can get!¡±

    And so I started blasting. I faced nine of them and cast at the one in the middle with my chain lightning spell. It spread out to both sides, instantly killing the targeted one plus one more. I had stopped their forward momentum for that moment, and I formed my hands into finger guns and shot firebolts into the two next to the dead quillotes, killing one. I tried and failed miserably to shoot two others, setting some trees on fire. Oops.

    I then saw why Harper was not happy about facing these things. While only six of the ones I was facing were alive, their attacks were brutal. They started peppering me with quills while one tried to bite my horse. Gonna Bite It lived up to her name, literally biting one quillote and sending it whimpering away, its tail between its legs. I ducked as another tried to knock me off the mare, and I sent firebolts after it before aiming at another. The quills keep hitting me and I almost took out another of the spiky bastards, but Gonna Bite It danced around trying to sink her teeth into another one. My next firebolt fizzled, and I realized I was out of mana. I quickly pulled my one mana potion to my hand, popped the cork out and drank it down.

    In an instant, something knocked me off my horse, and my back slammed against the ground. I struggled to breathe with one of the beasts on top of me. I jammed my hand into the fur on its neck to keep it from ripping my throat out. It stopped struggling once the ice shard severed its spine and its friend¡¯s quills peppered it. The quills, meant for me, finished the beast off. I pushed it off and got to my feet. Three more ice shards left my hands, though only two connected, the other shattering against a tree. Hopefully, the one I¡¯d set on fire.

    More quills hit my chest and stomach, and I staggered. The pain was too much, and I drank my only health potion. A scream erupted from my throat as most of the quills pushed out of my body. I tried to cast Ice Shard again, to no effect. ¡°I¡¯m out of mana, again? Fuck me!¡±

    More quills hit me as two of the monsters rushed me. I pulled my short sword out, hoping the minor instruction from Harper had been enough. Then, I side stepped one and ran it through. I pulled my short sword out as the other came for me. It jumped back, though, when I slashed at it. I cried out in anger and pain as five more quills pierced my skin and I charged them, ducking more quills flying at the spot I had left. As I killed another, the rest of the bastards turned and ran.

    I fell to my knees, exhausted, my hands gripping my short sword. I knew once the adrenaline wore off, the pain would return. My horse still sounded worked up, but she was behind me. I heard Juan leading the other horses toward me. Harper crouched down beside me, and she graced me with a grin.

    ¡°That was pretty intense to watch, New Guy. Juan and I dealt with our quillotes several minutes ago.¡± She said. She laughed when I looked at her with something akin to horror.

    ¡°You were just watching me fight for my life? While I almost died? What the fuck is wrong with you?¡± I replied.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. If it looked like you were in trouble, we had your back. Just had to see how much you could handle. I¡¯m actually impressed. You killed most of them all by yourself. And the rest fled, injured. We won¡¯t see them anytime soon. Good job, New Guy! Here,¡± and she handed me a heath potion.

    I looked at the potion in my hand in shock. They had more? I was thinking it would take me weeks to recover. As painful as the last one was, I could see how the tradeoff was worth it. So I popped the cork and drank it down. Immediately, I felt the last quills as they pushed their way out of my body. The bite on my thigh that I hadn¡¯t realized was there, knitted together. I doubled over in pain.

    And just kneeled there, ready to pass out. ¡°I wish¡­ I wish that didn¡¯t wear me out. Or hurt so much.¡±

    ¡°Everything has a price, New Guy.¡± She continued, ¡°the energy to heal has to come from somewhere and it¡¯s not in the juice.¡±

    ¡°Um, the juice? What kind of fruit does this come from?¡± I asked.

    Harper laughed at me. And kept laughing.

    ¡°She just calls it ¡®the juice.¡¯ It¡¯s an alchemical concoction. Are you going to be okay?¡±

    I looked away from the giggling Harper. ¡°I think so. Now, at least.¡± I replied, turning to watch Harper fall back onto her rear, still laughed.

    Juan nodded, ¡°Good. Then loot your kills quickly. This site is no longer safe and we need to move on.¡±

    It didn¡¯t take too long. Packed a few handfuls of the quills, using one of the wolf hides in my pack to protect myself. I also found twenty gold! Not much, but every bit helps. Gonna Bite It was more than happy to leave the area. I was really getting attached to this horse and gave her a comforting pat on the neck as we got back on the road. I got a snort, so I think we¡¯re cool.

    We traveled for a couple of hours more, before finding a place nearer to the road. It was occupied by what appeared to be a group of colorfully dressed people with wagons and horses. We approached slowly, and a middle-aged woman stepped forward and bowed to us.

    ¡°Welcome weary travelers! We are but a humble troop of performers, making our way across Marea from Kathelon. Then who knows? Please, join us and share your stories and news!¡±

    Juan returned the bow. ¡°Thank you, mistress. If you have food to share, that would be most kind. We can pay, of course, so not to put a strain upon your company.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense! Please be our guests and share our camp.¡± The group seemed very welcoming and Juan did not seem worried, only formal. He pulled me aside when we tied our horses to their horse line.

    ¡°Finn. A word of warning: do not share too much about your current circumstance with these folks. Traveling performers like this are good people, but they do like their stories. And sharing them. Be polite, and if you must share something, make sure it is from home.¡±

    I looked at him curiously. He shook his head. ¡°Trust me in this, boy. It will be better for all involved.¡±

    We walked over to the fire, where Harper was sharing a few bottles of wine out. The troop also had wine and enthusiastically went from settling in to partying. A friendly young woman pulled me down next to her on one of the logs around the fire. Her hair was a sun-kissed light brown, curly and full, her dress tight and loose at the same time in ways I did not understand. She gave me a cup of wine and clinked her cup against mine.

    ¡°My name¡¯s Arilyn. What¡¯s yours?¡± she asked with a smile.

 07 - The Party... Favors?

    ¡°Mine?¡± Arilyn¡¯s bouncy, friendly nature rendered me speechless. As well as her latching on to me the way she had. In that moment, I was not smooth or sophisticated, no James Bond me, and I hadn¡¯t dated anyone for a while. Honestly, I was putty in her soft hands. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m Finn. I...¡±

    ¡°Finn? What an interesting name! Where are you from, with a name like that?¡±

    I had felt this overwhelming desire to tell her everything that she wanted to know. She was so interested in me and I felt like I was on top of the world! I wanted to impress her. And, well, I was really attracted to her. She was the kind of girl I usually liked. Shorter, curly hair with a button nose. And she was rather curvy. I desperately wanted her.

    ¡°Minneapolis. Well, I was born in Denver, but my parents moved us to Minneapolis for their work when I was ten.¡±

    ¡°Minnie polis? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve... Oh, you¡¯re from that other world! How exciting!¡±

    I felt like I would not sleep alone that night, with how she responded to me. ¡°Well, yes. It can be.¡±

    ¡°Tell me all about it! I¡¯ve never talked to anyone from another world. And you are so handsome, too!¡± She practically bubbled with excitement, placing her hand upon my arm and fluttering her eyelashes.

    If I had been a little more worldly by this world¡¯s or my world¡¯s standards, I would have been aware of how she was plying me for information, not to take advantage of me, but to gather knowledge and stories. I was being manipulated and had no idea at all, as she played me like a harp. Plucking my strings the right way to cause me to give her anything. She was good. I felt wanted and wanted her in return.

    And, of course, I told her everything I could about home. Of college, the campus and the thousands of other students, the student union building where I would sometimes study or unwind before I went home. I told her about my brother and mother. I explained movies to her and described the traffic in the city. She kept touching me and keeping my wine cup full, urging me on with gasps of wonder and questions. I could have talked to her all night, just to look into her eyes. To lose myself in her gaze.

    Arilyn was such a good listener, hanging on my every word. My train of thoughts jumped the track whenever she licked her lips or laughed at a joke I tried to make. I drank more, my judgement getting further impaired. And I was more than happy to spend my time with her. It devastated me when she got up to get another bottle of wine.

    To pass the time waiting for her, I tried to concentrate on leveling up from the fight with the quillotes. It took me a few tries to get my head in the right space. From what I could tell, there was almost enough experience energy to go up two levels. I hit level eight, putting both my points into endurance to raise my health points to 162. My mana went up 10 points with the new level. The big thing was I needed more health so that I wouldn¡¯t come so close to dying. And armor. I needed armor. I remembered after allocating my points that I was supposed to put them in dexterity and intelligence, as Juan had told me, but I was drunk and didn¡¯t care.

    After I finished my leveling, I looked around for Arilyn. I didn¡¯t see her anywhere, but noticed the leader of the entertainers, a matronly woman with kind eyes, watching me intently. She sat somewhat apart from the shenanigans of her troop and surprised me by motioning me over. I hesitated for a moment, but left my spot near the fire to see what she wanted. I hoped Arilyn would be there when I found out what their leader wanted.

    ¡°You¡¯re a curious young man, wearing clothes like that. Yet you carry a blade longer than a knife. Are you a fighter? A rogue?¡± she poured herself more wine, narrowing her eyes. ¡°Or are you a mage, young man? Are you one of those?¡±

    Her line of questioning and tone was not that of curiosity to me, but more pointed. I should have been more careful, but I was rather impaired at that point. ¡°I¡¯m a mage, ma¡¯am. But I don¡¯t really know what I¡¯m doing. I just picked mage because of my brother.¡±

    ¡°Is your brother a mage?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Er, um, no... he¡¯s a nerd. I mean, he really likes fantasy things and.... I¡¯m not making any sense, am I?¡±

    She suddenly laughed at my fumbling and discomfort. It removed any worry I had, like she had been able to just wash it away. Again, I should have suspected something. She spoke to me in a pleased tone, like a parent whose child had done something well. ¡°Oh, I understand. So you knew nothing of classes or anything here and you just... chose because your brother liked mages?¡±

    ¡°I... yes, that¡¯s exactly why! My brother knows a lot more about this stuff than me. I just want to survive and get home to him and my life.¡± I really felt I could tell her everything and she would have understood. My world, movies I liked, the trouble with having a dead dad and a mother that worked all the time. Just everything.

    ¡°Have they told you about mages in this world, Finn? What they were like, the people who have chosen to become mages?¡±

    Wait, what? There was something there that made me nervous. I frowned. ¡°Not really. Juan told me about a mage who saved his and other¡¯s lives. But she, the mage, died since then.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. Would you like me to tell you a story, Finn? That¡¯s what I do, I tell Stories. And for a favor, I could tell you one that would make many things clear to you. What do you think, Finn? A Tale to go with this wine?¡±

    I brightened up. And since she was a professional storyteller who just refilled my cup. But a favor? If that was how she wanted to be paid, who was I to question? ¡°A favor for a story? That sounds like a fair price.¡±

    She smiled. ¡°Then the Deal is struck.¡± She sipped her wine before clearing her throat. When she began, her voice was full of gravitas. ¡°A long time ago, long before your grandparents were born, there was another young man who came to this world. He was kind, yet ambitious. He had big plans back home to become a leader in his country. But his plans ruined, he embraced being here as an opportunity more than a curse. He studied the classes offered, asking several questions. When the Gatekeeper told him that mage could make him more powerful than the other choices, he jumped at the chance.¡±

    ¡°At first, he was very helpful to the people and communities he came across, tackling problems they could not. But as his power grew, he desired more. The people he would have once helped out of the kindness of his heart stopped looking like people to him and more like resources. It was not long before he decided he should take what he wanted.¡±

    ¡°He went to the King and gave him a choice. Step down and hand the kingdom to him, or die horribly through torture. The king had never been talked to in this way, so was inclined to tell his guards to throw the mage out. But he had heard the stories. He could sense the power in him and was afraid. The king gave his crown to the mage, who killed him slowly anyway. Just because he could. The mage used the resources of the kingdom to gain knowledge and wealth at the expense of his new subjects. He forced his people to give him anything he wanted. He took wives and daughters that caught his eye, and killed any who displeased him.¡±

    ¡°The mage grew fat in his greed. His desire for power led him to invade other countries and begin his bloody rule over an empire. It was not too long before unconquered kingdoms paid court to him, bringing gifts and offers of marriage. He styled himself the emperor and was well on his way to creating a world of darkness, fulfilling his every whim and desire.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    She paused and looked at me down her nose, and I felt the horror and fear of what she told me. She continued, ¡°His greedy nature led to his downfall. It is unknown who did it, but someone poisoned several gifts of wine. The mage-emperor delighted in the vintages and consumed many with his women and favored sycophants during a night of feasting and debauchery. All died horribly. Assassins killed every child he fathered. It was a horrible end to a horrible time. The people learned yet again to fear mages.¡±

    ¡°This was not the first, or the last, time a mage became hungry for power. The reason that mages always go mad is a mystery. Whether it is the type of person who chooses to be a mage or something with the magic itself, I do not know. Perhaps there is a serpent or a demon that comes to corrupt each mage. Perhaps not.¡±

    She was silent for a long time. When she spoke again, it was no longer as dramatic a voice. ¡°There you go, young Finn the Mage. A cautionary tale which may make more sense later, but you should know now that you walk a dangerous path. It¡¯s been a generation since a mage has walked the world. You are the first to choose it without knowing what it was. At least, the first that I know of.¡±

    She smiled warmly at me. ¡°Well, Finn. A favor you owe me, but not tonight. Go back to the fire. Soon, the minstrels will pull out their instruments, and you don¡¯t want to miss that!¡±

    I stood up and looked again at the storyteller. ¡°Thank you.... Uh, Ma¡¯am? I never caught your name.¡±

    She chuckled and ruffled my hair. ¡°Usually when young men ask me my name, they have to pay for it with a favor. But I like you. I am called Missana the Storyteller. You may call me Missana. Now go, before I require more of you!¡± she pushed me playfully, and I went back to my seat to wait for the girl with the sunlit curls.

    ****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    When Arilyn returned, she sat down and looked at me strangely. ¡°Did you talk with the leader of our troupe? You seem... off¡±

    I smiled at her return. ¡°Yes! She told me a story, of all things.¡± I frowned, thinking about it. ¡°It was more of the dark and dreary type of tale.¡± I brightened up when she gave a short laugh.

    ¡°She does that sometimes. Her stories are good. Sometimes there is a deeper message. But let us not talk of such things. I want to hear more about your world!¡± She leaned forward, and I noticed she was wearing a different outfit, one with a lower cut bodice. If that is what took her so long, I was okay with the time waiting. I may have blushed when I looked, and she giggled pleasantly, putting her hand on my leg.

    ¡°Tell me, Finn, what other things do you do for fun in your world? When you are not in classes or taking care of your little brother?¡±

    ¡°I... I used to go hunting with my dad. Sometimes, I played basketball with my friends. Um, actually, I don¡¯t really do much for fun. Not since my dad passed away.¡± I suddenly didn¡¯t feel like talking and looked away, my eyes welling up.

    I felt a hand on my face. ¡°Oh, Finn. I¡¯m so sorry,¡± Arilyn said softly. She turned my face and kissed me. It shocked me out of the dark place I was going to. I closed my eyes, kissing her back. My heart hammered against my chest, and the world was bright and wonderful.

    Whistles and catcalls broke through, almost ruining the moment. I could feel the blood heat my face as we broke our kiss. Arilyn yelled back, ¡°you¡¯re all gits!¡± They laughed and returned to their conversations. Arilyn sat on my lap pointedly, bringing all of my attention back to her. Not before I noticed Harper looking at me with a knowing smile and a raised eyebrow.

    ¡°Where were we?¡± she asked. Her smile brightened my evening, and I wanted to make her smile as often as possible. She brought her hands up to my face, cupping it before kissing me again. My mind stopped working for a time.

    She pulled away and looked into my eyes, searching them for any sign of sadness. ¡°Much better. Now you can tell me more about your world. Like, what are your libraries like? Tell me everything.¡±

    ¡°Libraries? Like the school library?¡±

    Her eyes widened. ¡°Your school had a library? How many books?¡±

    ¡°Hundreds of thousands. More if you count what they had online. Plus papers, dissertations, magazines....¡±

    ¡°What is online?¡± she asked, her eyes still wide.

    ¡°Oh. That¡¯s kind of hard to explain. So, basically, they have a network of computers in the library that connect to the internet. Through the internet, that library connects to other libraries, allowing access to even more books that aren¡¯t available there. Um, computers are complex machines that are used for typing things up, communication, information sharing, disinformation sharing, and other things, via the internet. The internet is where computers interact with each other. I don¡¯t know what things in this world compare.¡±

    ¡°I wish I could see this internet. And computers. And your libraries.¡± She replied. She sounded in awe, like it was better than all the magic in this world. Arilyn grabbed my hands and held them tight. ¡°If you could only take me to your world and show me these things. Would you, if you could?¡±

    ¡°I would love to show you all of it. Then I¡¯d take you to dinner and a movie. I know it¡¯s clich¨¦... I don¡¯t know how long it will take to get back there. But if you come to my world, I will happily show you everything!¡±

    She smiled again and kissed me. Some of the troop had pulled out instruments and began to play. She turned in my lap, leaning against me. They played, and a woman stood singing a song of two lovers separated by the sea for lack of a boat. The verses were full of the shenanigans of the two as they tried to build or find boats until the man found a sea creature to drag him across the sea. He reached the other side to find her gone, having found a sea creature to carry her across. It was absurdly funny, and the musical accompaniment played it up.

    Another singer stood up and sang a hauntingly sad and beautiful ballad about the fall of Nalloth. I saw Juan¡¯s face darken as he listened, and tears made silent trails down his face. Yet he clapped as loudly as everyone else at the end. I got the feeling these people knew who he was, and they did not mock him with this.

    Arilyn snuggled into my embrace as I put my arms around her. We listened to more stories and songs as the night grew late. I wished the night would never end, as I felt better than I had in a long time. Memories of that night would keep me warm and strong through many of the cold and dark times ahead. The memory of her in my arms, and her kisses, would warm me still further as I missed her.

    Finally, Missana stood up and clapped her hands together twice. ¡°Alright Jak, that¡¯s enough of that story. We all need to be up in the morning and on the road before the sun is fully over the horizon. Our guests need their sleep too! So put away your instruments and pick up the trash. Then off to bed before I have you all reciting the March of the Gods with all the retainers and their stories!¡±

    Arilyn squeaked and hopped off my lap, quickly helping to pick up the camp. I had the feeling that Missana¡¯s threat was not an idle one. I got up and started helping Arilyn, but she quickly stopped me.

    ¡°No Finn, this is our duty, not yours. Please. Just go get your sleep roll.¡± She said. A wink accompanied the last, and I grinned as I went to get it off GB.

    Harper and Juan were already at the horses, having pulled off the saddles and brushed them down. Our saddles, saddlebags, and bedrolls were neatly stacked out of the way. Harper looked up and grinned at me, and there was mischief in that smile.

    ¡°I see you made a friend, New Guy. You going to run away and join the circus?¡±

    Juan sighed at her badgering. ¡°Seriously, Finn. Please tell me you¡¯ve kept your mouth shut with her.¡±

    ¡°Juan, please!¡± I replied dramatically, ¡°I¡¯ve just told her of home. She was fascinated by what I had to tell her about many things, including libraries. Are libraries not normal here?¡±

    ¡°Common enough, just in the big cities, though. But the literacy rates here are pretty high, so that may change over the next decade. Depending on how things go in the west. But good. I was afraid with the way she was looking at you, and the way you were looking at her, that your tongue would have been more loose.¡±

    Harper snorted out a laugh. ¡°It looked like she was loosening it up alright!¡±

    ¡°Harper! Behave yourself. He¡¯s not the only one here who has sought to deal with this place by losing themselves in the arms of another.¡± The moon and the firelight were just bright enough for me to see her face become a darker shade of purple.

    ¡°Never so openly,¡± she muttered, embarrassed. She, like me, had been drinking. Juan, on the other hand, either had been drinking lightly or had the liver of a god because of that terrible moonshine he liked.

    Juan¡¯s eyes shone with amusement. ¡°I am going to thank the troupe leader for her hospitality and then I¡¯m going to bed. I suggest the two of you do the same. Don¡¯t stay up too late talking or... whatever.¡±

    Surprisingly, that was not just aimed at me. Harper muttered something else and grabbed her sleeping roll, stalking off toward the far side of the fire. I grabbed mine as well, and went to find a spot not too far from the fire, but far enough from the other people that if Arilyn joined me, we¡¯d have some privacy.

    After finding a decent spot, I rolled out the primitive sleeping bag and, not seeing her, lied down. I was beginning to fall asleep when I heard a sleeping roll being laid out right next to mine and felt her snuggle up to me. ¡°Arilyn,¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Shhhh. We don¡¯t have the privacy I would like,¡± she replied. She kissed me then, more fully than I had ever been kissed. Breathing had been optional for a moment or an eternity. I held her tight until we both fell asleep.

 08 - On Godâ€™s And Their Gifts. Iâ€™ve Got My Lazy Eye On You!

    I woke up to the delightful smell of bacon and eggs. And coffee. Juan was cooking on the side of the fire. I sat up, looking around for Arilyn. She and the troupe were gone. So much so that there was no sign that they had even been there. Several feet away, Harper sat up, stretching, her hair tangled in her horns. She looked at the fire, then at the lack of other people.

    ¡°Ah, Juan?¡± she asked. ¡°Where are our new friends?¡±

    ¡°They are gone. Our packs were filled with food and drink, yet there was no sign that anyone other than us was here. There were some eggs on top, so I figured I¡¯d cook them first.¡± Juan sipped the coffee in his cup. ¡°And there was coffee. I haven¡¯t had coffee in months.¡±

    I got up and joined them both at the fire. Juan plated up the food, handing out portions of breakfast. I let mine cool and asked, ¡°Is this kind of thing normal?¡±

    ¡°Not really, New Guy,¡± replied Harper. ¡°People tend not to disappear unless there are old magics about or¡­¡±

    ¡°Finn, I saw you talking to the leader of that troop last night before you turned in. What did you talk about?¡± Juan asked.

    I looked between the two of them, suddenly feeling uneasy. ¡°I¡­ Missana told me a story about mages¡­ and how dangerous they get.¡±

    Juan¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Missana? The Storyteller?¡± he put his plate down, his hand shaking. ¡°That explains¡­¡± he trailed off. Harper had placed her fork down and was just looking at me.

    ¡°Yes¡­ Missana the storyteller. What¡¯s wrong with you guys?¡± I asked.

    Juan shook his head. ¡°Missana the Storyteller is a god, boy. I¡¯ve heard of people meeting her on the road, but the gods usually leave our kind alone. They pretty much just stay away from people. Did she give you anything? There weren¡¯t any deals or powers offered, were there?¡±

    My jaw dropped. I replayed the night in my mind. I had been in the presence of a god? The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I had been acting¡­ unconcerned about a lot. The entire thing had been, well, strange. Arilyn. Oh god. I was never so comfortable, that touchy-feely, with a girl on the first time meeting her. And everything she asked me I had just rushed to tell her. She could have asked me anything, and I would have told her or tried to find out. But when she kissed me¡­ that was¡­ different. Like it was genuine, more real, then how it felt to be asked and to answer her questions. Why did that stick out in my memory?

    Then I thought about Missana, and how I hadn¡¯t hesitated to answer all of Missana¡¯s questions. And that story¡­ was that going to happen to me? I really didn¡¯t want power like that. Just needed to get home. ¡°For the story, I agreed to owe her a favor. Is what she said true? Am I going to become a monster?¡±

    Juan was quiet for a moment, nodding. He stared into his coffee, like the words he needed hid in its depths. ¡°A favor. You owe a god a favor,¡± he said. The worry in his voice was momentary as he changed the subject with a smile and a lift of his cup. ¡°Did you know coffee was not native to this world? The story is that it just showed up. First one bush, then another. One of our predecessors recognized it and began cultivating the bushes. Started the entire industry. Now there are several coffee farms and several blends.¡± He sipped slowly. ¡°Of all the things we¡¯ve done to this world, this is the one thing most people think of as a good thing.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to tell sometimes if a choice is going to have good outcomes, or bad. I think there are many who will fear you because you are a mage, no matter what you do. As we have spent some time together, I have come to see you as not wanting power for power¡¯s sake. Which I hope will make a difference. I don¡¯t know if it will. The only mage I knew died before she really showed any signs of power hunger.¡±

    Harper interjected, ¡°The point is, New Guy, we don¡¯t know what causes mages to go all mental. From every story I¡¯ve heard about them, mages go mad with power, killing and taking this world into a dark age. Unless they die first.¡± The pained look on her face drove home how bad this was.

    Juan sighed. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Finn. I really wanted to keep this out of your mind for a while until I knew for sure what was going to happen. Did Missana give you any clues? Things to watch for? Can you tell us what you remember?¡±

    I told them what I could remember of the story. I think it was all of it, as it was burned into my mind like a traumatic event. At the end, I remembered what the god had added. ¡°She said that she didn¡¯t know if a serpent or demon approached the mages, or if it was because of the magic. It sounds kind of biblical to me, but I just don¡¯t understand it.¡±

    ¡°A serpent, huh?¡± Juan puzzled, ¡°Could be some sort of deception or outside influence. Could she have meant the old magics? Or the magic specific to the mage class?¡± He sat there pondering it while I finished eating my now cold breakfast. He still was sitting by the fire after I had cleaned my plate in a nearby stream and brought it back to him.

    ¡°We¡¯re going to need some help on this one. Hey Harper, is Eric still at the Royal Library of Kathelon?¡± Juan said, raising his voice.

    Harper was just finishing up getting the horses ready. ¡°He was the last time I went through,¡± replied Harper. ¡°But I¡¯d rather not be around him if I can avoid it. He makes me feel gross. That eye of his is always watching me.¡± Harper shuddered.

    Juan looked up, ¡°Harper, I¡¯ve told you. Ever since he lost his glasses, his lazy eye doesn¡¯t get the correction it needs. He can¡¯t help it. Trust me, if his wife ever caught him looking at another woman, she¡¯d knock his other eye out of whack. And with as much as his mind is in books and research when she¡¯s not right there, I doubt he notices most people unless he¡¯s actually talking with them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just creepy. I swear it moves independently of the other.¡± Harper shuddered again. She finished checking the straps and started a once over of the camp. ¡°Tonight you¡¯re going to help me with the horses, New Guy. You need to learn how to take care of your own horse.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I don¡¯t know too much about horses. But GB and me are getting tight.¡± I said.

    ¡°GB? Oh, short for Gonna Bite It, right? Awesome,¡± Harper replied.

    *****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    The kingdom of Kathelon was on our way and only a few hours ahead of where we started the day. It would take us a few days to reach the capital city of Alsiger. The kingdom was named for the first ruler of the kingdom, King Kath. Not the best way to name a kingdom, but who am I to judge? Most towns back home are named in honor of a founding member or an older town. New York, for example. Or the ridiculous number of towns named Dwight from New England to North Dakota. There¡¯s like eight of them.

    We rode through small towns sporting maybe one or two inns; the towns getting larger as we approached the capital city. We stayed at inns where I got curious looks, or at least I thought they were directed at me. Harper was unusual enough, and I was just another guy in a poncho. I hoped my clothes did not suggest my class. By the time we were within spitting distance of Alsiger, I understood the lack I had been feeling since I had got here. It was a longing for the hustle and bustle of crowds, buildings close together, and the comforting hum of thousands of people living their lives on top of each other.

    The increase in traffic since the first Kathelon town was nice too, and I realized the lack of people traveling on the same road as us had made me uneasy. I felt like I was, if not coming home, getting somewhere, I felt comfortable. Somewhere, I knew how to fit in. The capital city did not disappoint. The gates through the city walls slowed us down as we had to get in line to be checked and let through. And the Crowds! It was a delightful mass of people moving through the city like they were the lifeblood of a gigantic beast.

    There was such a variety of people, humans and¡­ Elves? I was unsure. I hadn¡¯t a clue about the other species moving through the city. But the variety! And none of the bullshit from home. It was like the variety of different neighbors made people not care about race. I remembered something from the psychology class I had taken to fulfill a credit requirement about in-groups and out-groups. And about the differing levels of in-groups, like family to neighborhood, neighborhood to side of town, side of town to the whole town. And so on to the level of country.

    Each level saw others outside of their group as enemies at worst, to friendly rivals at best. At least that¡¯s what I took from it. I fell back into a comfortable rhythm of living in the city and followed the others through the streets, not staring at anyone or anything. Trying not to look the tourist, I only noted the turns we took and any interesting shops. I got concerned as we passed inn after inn, sporting odd and suggestive signs, and headed deeper into town. The buildings were nice at the gate, but they became nicer the farther we went. Until I wasn¡¯t seeing shops, just residences. Fancy fencing and gates did nothing to hide the opulence of most of the buildings.

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    We finally came to a massive building without a gate, with guards and a stable. Juan led the way to the stable, and the guards stopped him. ¡°Are you on official business, sir? This is the Royal Library and is off limits to anyone unauthorized,¡± asked the guard with the coolest hat.

    Juan drew himself to his full height and looked down at the guard. ¡°I am Juan Santino Venegas, Hero of the Dew-Kissed Rose, General-at-large of the Allied Army of the 12 Kingdoms, Master of the Three Bows of Harmon. Captain, I am here to meet with Eric the Wise, Wizard and Researcher to the Royal Court.¡±

    ¡°Do you have any proof of what you say, sir?¡± asked the captain.

    Juan, keeping his eyes on the guard, puts his hand out and pulls a gorgeously carved bow of black wood, crackling with electricity. The guard¡¯s eyes widen, recognizing what I guessed to be a unique and legendary bow. The guard captain, and all the other guards, smartly saluted with a fist to chests. ¡°Thank you, General Venegas. You and your retainers are welcome to leave your horses with the stable hands. Please allow me to escort you to Wizard Eric.¡±

    Juan¡¯s bow disappears into his inventory and he replied with a hand to his chest, ¡°Thank you, Captain.¡± Harper and I dismount after Juan does and hand our reins off to the waiting teenagers before following. Harper muttered something under her breath about being called a retainer.

    The massive, carved wooden doors of the entrance to the library were so well counterbalanced, the guard opened one with the push of a finger. Past the doors was the entrance room, which I later learned is called a foyer, of the library exhibited various shades of marble, the floor a map of not only the kingdom, but of eleven other kingdoms on the continent. The colors of the different marbles intrigued me, as I had not seen marble in those shades. The vibrant walls were accentuated by finely carved wood trim that matched the themes presented by the brilliantly worked stone.

    ¡°Hey New Guy!¡± Harper called to me, ¡°No time to look at the pretty pictures, keep up!¡± She was waiting for me down the hall and I ran to catch up. The hall opened up into a massive cathedral, dedicated to presenting untold millions of bound pages. Maybe billions of pages. The shelves went up three stories, only broken by two higher floors jutting out from the walls. They looked wide enough for three lanes of traffic, yet from our low vantage point, it was still easy to see most of the shelves.

    The scope of the library was amazing, the bottom floor littered with sitting areas, rows of freestanding shelves, and wide tables. Other than the shelving on the outer walls of the massive room, the layout seemed almost chaotic. Or maybe it was more organic, because instead of causing stress, it felt comfortable. I wondered what Arilyn would think about this place, which led me to wonder how she was doing. I hoped she was okay wherever in the east she had gone with the Goddess Missana and her troupe. It was doubtful she was thinking of me, a random guy from a different world. God, I hoped she was. I hoped I¡¯d see her again. Her beautiful eyes and sun-kissed hair.

    Harper and I caught up to Juan and the guard escorting him, and I brought my focus back to the library and away from the mental image of Arilyn¡¯s smiling face. The guard captain led us past massive sweeping stairs that mirrored each other, going to opposite sides of the next floor. I noticed little oases of reading nooks with comfy looking chairs here and there as we got closer to a smaller set of doors that matched the front doors. Our escort knocked on the doors before entering with Juan on his heels.

    ¡°Yes? Who¡¯s there?¡± an old man in a fine red robe and disheveled, wispy white hair looked up from some old papers. ¡°Ah captain! I was hoping to talk with you¡­¡± The old man stood up quickly, ¡°Juan, you old goat! How are you? It¡¯s been years¡­ when did you get so old?¡± He rounded the table and embraced Juan warmly.

    ¡°Eric, my friend. It is good to see you. How¡¯s Elana?¡± Juan replied.

    ¡°She¡¯s good! Our 10th grandchild was born 2 months ago, and she has been happier than I¡¯ve ever seen her.¡± He looked at Harper and me and raised his arms in greeting. ¡°Harper! It is good to see you. Does my eye still freak you out? And a Mage! Juan, you brought me a Mage!¡±

    The captain put his hand on his sword and turned to face me, putting himself between me and the excitable old man. He drew his blade, holding it shakily in front of me, the flat side up and the point mostly aimed at my throat.

    I put my hands up, ¡°Whoa, whoa! No need to draw on me. I¡¯m not that kind of mage.¡± He didn¡¯t put his sword away at my words, but advanced a hesitant step. The point of the blade seemed to brush my throat, causing me to freeze in place.

    ¡°Captain, stand down,¡± Eric commanded. He walked forward, putting the flat of his hand on the sword, pressing it down. ¡°Juan wouldn¡¯t have brought him if he wasn¡¯t still a good person. And I can see it in his eyes.¡± The captain slowly lowered his blade, yet did not sheath it. The old man walked up to me, his hands behind his back. He studied my face, then started walking around me. ¡°What are you, early twenties? You working on your bachelors? Yes. Hmm. Tell me, what drove you to choose to be a mage? What part of the Midwest are you from? Minnesota? Chicago? No, maybe eastern Colorado by your accent. Hmmm. Nope, I¡¯m sure you are not a threat right now. Hmm¡­.¡±

    The quick questions overwhelmed me, and I wasn¡¯t able to form answers fast enough. Like a Sherlock motherfucking Holmes, he read me like I was an open book. What, just because I¡¯m not a book nerd, there¡¯s no way I could know who Sherlock Holmes was? I watched a lot of movies. Deal with it.

    He quietly circled me, and I finally had enough. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but who are you? And why are you studying me?¡±

    He laughed, ¡°My name¡¯s Eric. Wizard. Researcher. And you are what I have been waiting for all these years. A Mage that hasn¡¯t changed yet!¡± he grabbed my right hand in both of his and shook it vigorously. I grinned uncertainly and looked to Juan, who shrugged. Like this is what he expected.

    ¡°Nice to mee-¡± I had started to say when he pulled me into a hug. I felt slightly uncomfortable, though I had friends who were huggers. He released me and walked back to the table, grabbing a couple of strange, cube shaped items. I followed him past the guard captain that had been ready to skewer me. Though he had put his sword away, he still watched me warily.

    Eric handed me one of the items. ¡°Hold this. I¡¯ve got to take a few readings¡­¡± I held the curious item, some sort of cube with multiple cubes and gears within it. It seemed to be made of brass or gold, but I couldn¡¯t be certain. The old wizard began muttering under his breath and the similar cube he held and the one I held started glowing. He stopped muttering and manipulated his cube and muttered some more. Mine stopped glowing.

    He took the item from my hands and set it on the desk. ¡°There we go! Okay. I just need to plug this into the reader. And we¡¯ll take a look at you.¡± He went over to a massive stone rectangle that looked almost like a coffin and an altar had a lovechild. He gestured for everyone to come over and pushed the glowing cube thing into a square hole at one end of the massive thing. The gears in the cube turned, along with what I had wrongly thought were smaller cubes and were actually tiny cylinders. Spots of greenish light popped into the air above it and tilted, becoming lines and curves. He muttered some more, and it coalesced into a floating picture of me in 3D, with a list of letters and numbers beside it. It took me longer than necessary to recognize them as my stats. The next things that popped up were a list of my spells, a list of skills, and my inventory. And a series of formulas.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been able to get readings on two other mages, but both of them had gone all ¡®evil twin¡¯ by that point. You are the first mage in decades that I¡¯ve been able to study. And you haven¡¯t gone bad. Yet.¡±

    I looked at everything displayed above the rough-hewn magical stone thing. ¡°What¡¯s the difference between their readings and mine?¡±

    ¡°Hold on a moment, and I¡¯ll show you.¡± He wandered off to a dusty shelf with many odd items on it. None of them looked like they had moved in years. There were two cubes similar to the one used to take my ¡®readings.¡¯ He looked at the two cubes and started reaching for one, then stopped for a few seconds before grabbing the other. He hurried back. ¡°This was a man named George. He allowed me to take a reading in exchange for a couple of spell books. Useless to him, as they were wizard spells and he didn¡¯t know the difference. But¡­¡± he pulled out my cube and stuck George¡¯s cube in. ¡°¡­ as soon as it loads up, you¡¯ll see the differences.¡±

    The ¡®loading up¡¯ of the other man¡¯s information, which was so inanely out of place here, started out similar to mine. Only the color was different. Where mine was greenish, this was an orange bordering on red. George was similarly dressed to me, making me think I should buy some new clothes next chance I got, but was short and plump. His level, 22, implied some time spent here. But the spells. He had a lot of spells, like 60 of them. Some of which were not legible. Where mine had formulas, his had weird symbols. And then it stuttered. Like the whole light image just turned off and back on again. For a moment, I had an after image of¡­ something... disturbing.

    ¡°As you can see, his information is corrupted. And it had been when I took a reading. I got readings on people from our world and people from around here. All of them look normal, like yours. But George was abnormal. Like the first mage I did. She was¡­ also corrupted. I don¡¯t know why. But you are different. Why are you different?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I chose the mage class because my little brother enjoyed playing one in games. And I figured, since he thought magic users were awesome to play, I would be better off being a mage. I knew nothing about it.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t finish the tutorial,¡± Juan added, ¡°If that helps.¡±

    ¡°Interesting. So, you had no desire for the power offered by the mage class? Didn¡¯t know about the Surge ability specific to mages?¡±

    ¡°No! I didn¡¯t know about any of that! I just want to get back to my life. To my family. All of this¡­ Bullshit is too much. Don¡¯t care about this world or having power or whatever. I. Just. Want. To. Get. Home.¡± Then I stopped, realizing I had yelled. I took a few breaths. ¡°And I don¡¯t want to become a monster. I don¡¯t want to have control of anyone else. Please, can you tell me how to not go all evil and stuff?¡±

    Eric¡¯s right eye drifted, but the look on his face was concerned. ¡°I don¡¯t know yet. I¡¯ve been studying people¡¯s classes and the math underneath it all ever since I found this magical artifact and the reading cubes. There¡¯s just so much information.¡± He pulled out the corrupted mage¡¯s cube and slipped mine back in. ¡°You are the first mage I¡¯ve been able to get a good reading of and I¡¯ll finally be able to study the mage formulas thanks to your reading. Which may give me some clue as to why mages are so different from the other classes. Maybe it¡¯ll point me in the direction of what the turning point is for mages.¡±

    ¡°We ran into Missana on the road here and she told Finn a story. With some clues or ideas on her part, to why mages turn.¡± Juan said.

    The wizard¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°She didn¡¯t know? But she¡¯s a god! How do the gods not know?¡± he exclaimed. ¡°That suggests that this is something they had nothing to do with. What did she say?¡±

    ¡°She told New Guy that it could be a demon or the nature of the magic itself.¡± Harper said. She was looking at the image of me and my stats, and she probably was not thinking about Eric¡¯s lazy eye.

    ¡°A demon, you say.¡± Replied Eric. He tapped his chin and then snapped his fingers before rushing out of the office. ¡°I might have an idea of how to check that!¡±

 09 - On Demons And Their Tricks. The Wizard, The Paper Roll, And The Robe.

    It didn¡¯t take too long for the old wizard to bustle back into what I guessed was his office and research room. He had a massive leather-bound volume, with thick iron bars keeping the book closed. It had a lock on the front, and Eric slammed it down on a table. He left it there as he grabbed a ring of keys from his desk and an unlit candle. He sat the candle next to the book and lit it. The light from the white candle lit up the room, somehow erasing every possible shadow, even from under the table the candle sat on. I shuddered at the unnerving sight.

    Eric grinned and said, ¡°Can¡¯t be too careful when reading books on demons. Those sneaky fuckers can use the shadows, you know. Wouldn¡¯t want them knowing what we are doing!¡± He flipped through the keys until he came to the right one and inserted it into the lock. When he turned the key in the lock, all the bars sucked into the lock itself, which he set next to the candle. The book seemed to shudder in the light. Eric put on some odd gloves, covered in glass or diamonds, and opened the shuddering volume.

    He muttered to himself as he checked page after page, making sure not to touch them with anything other than the gloves. The shadow banishing light was making me queasy, and I could see that I was not the only one. Finally, he straightened up, pressing his gloved knuckles into the small of his back. ¡°Ah! I knew I¡¯d seen those symbols somewhere¡­ Why didn¡¯t I ever think to check this?¡±

    Juan peered at the book. ¡°What the hell is that book anyway, Eric? It is not something that I¡¯d like to read before bed.¡±

    There was a clear lack of humor in Eric¡¯s chuckle, which made me even more uneasy. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t survive very long, my friend. They want this book back. This is the only surviving copy of the iniquitous compendium of all the demon lords and their minions. The Daemonium, if you will. None of them wants this information out in this world. This copy was sealed by a priestess of Eleras, the god of light and smithing. The seal was made with the blessing of Eleras, and hides the book as long as it remains sealed. This candle is also the work of Eleras through her priestesses and is the only way I can open this book without demons popping into my workshop.¡±

    My stomach churning, I spoke up to get this over with. ¡°What did you find, Eric? What symbols did you find?¡±

    The old wizard turned to me, his face the most serious I¡¯ve ever seen. ¡°I found out that not only is the corruption the work of demons, but which demon is doing it,¡± he pointed to the page. ¡°The symbols we saw in the readings of the corrupted mages are a part of their magic, specific to each demon. Vexarith is a minor demon, not really part of the usual hierarchy. Sort of a fixer for the demon lords, yet independent of all of them other than the King of Hell. They are, not surprisingly, one of the most commonly seen here in this world, and have much that was the work of other demon lords attributed to them.¡±

    ¡°Oh. Well, that¡¯s great. A celebrity demon is going to come after our New Guy.¡± Harper said. She was looking at the book with interest, and was unaware that she was reaching for it. ¡°I guess we should feel lucky. Whelp, sorry New Guy, looks like you¡¯re going to be screwed by the Hollywood of demons¡­. Ow!¡± she cried out as Eric slapped her hand away. ¡°Why did you do that?¡±

    Eric glared at Harper. ¡°You¡¯re a half-demon. Didn¡¯t you notice yourself reaching for the book?¡±

    Harper pulled back from the table, horrified. ¡°I¡­no!¡±

    ¡°If you had touched it, you and the book would have teleported to hell. You would have been celebrated and elevated. The next time we saw you¡­ Let¡¯s just say you wouldn¡¯t be our friend anymore,¡± Eric replied.

    He closed the book and placed the lock upon it, re-sealing it with a twist of the key. With that, he took off the gloves and extinguished the candle. The return to the normal light was a relief. Harper looked like she was going to empty her stomach, the horror still haunting her eyes. I put my hand on her arm and she flinched before she saw it was me.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I whispered.

    She shook her head. ¡°I didn¡¯t know. I just thought¡­ Being a Cambion sounded cool, you know? How was I to know being a half-demon would change me that much? Or make me want to¡­ I¡¯m sorry,¡± she almost whispered the last. Like she had done, or had been on the verge of doing something monstrous.

    I gave her arm a squeeze, and what I hoped was a sympathetic look. ¡°But you didn¡¯t. If you really wanted to, would that old wizard have been able to stop you? Besides, you¡¯ll never be in such a position again. Hopefully.¡± She looked thoughtful and somewhat relieved. ¡°Besides, now we are possible monsters together! Monster buddies!¡± She pushed me away, laughing.

    ¡°Gods, that¡¯s dumb!¡± she replied. ¡°Thank you¡­Finn. I needed that.¡±

    *******************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    Eric shooed us out of his office slash workshop soon after and told us to come back the next day. The guard captain, still eyeing me with suspicion, had our horses saddled and brought to us. Juan led us to an inn nearby, promising to cover me, as it was expensive. It was a nice place, actual tables and chairs, instead of those long tables with benches. Everything was polished and clean. I almost felt guilty when I sat down on a padded chair, making it and everything else I touched dirtier. Not that the owner said anything, apparently recognizing Juan.

    And there was a menu! An actual printed menu. Nothing was familiar, term-wise, but Harper helped me pick out a meal. I, of course, got a side of steamed Glot Root. I wondered if the tuber would make good fries. A waitress brought our meal out, with a fresh salad of greens I didn¡¯t recognize, followed by a small bowl of a creamy soup.

    ¡°This is all so much like a nice restaurant at home,¡± I said.

    ¡°Yes. The owner¡¯s grandfather was one of us. It¡¯s just another example of what happens when people settle down. We bring something of home to life, changing the way things are. We either die here, or retire. Making this our home. Eric and Elana fell in love, married and mostly settled down. Very few of my friends over the years have survived. But Eric and Elana integrated, and their descendants will probably never know what it is like to drive a car or go to the movies. To fly in an airplane, to play computer games, or watch a football game taking place in another country almost at the same time it is being played.¡±

    There was a melancholy look on his face, a sadness of substantial loss. I thought he would continue to talk, but then our main courses were brought out. I had what was obviously a steak, though not beef. There were no cows here, but they had goats, sheep, and something akin to bison, only smaller. It was delicious. The wine Juan had chosen for the table was dark and subtle. I wasn¡¯t that experienced with wine tasting, more of an IPA guy, but it went with the steak.

    Harper teased the old man about getting wine in his bushy mustache, threatening to cut it off. At that point, I realized that though the two weren¡¯t related, their relationship was that of father and daughter. Her teasing was good natured and his outrage feigned. This was just what they did. It was something that I would never forget. And it made me smile and miss my dad at the same time. A relationship I would never have again.

    We did not discuss what happened with Harper during dinner by unspoken agreement. I was worried about her. Heck, I was worried about myself. There was a demon out there, a demon that was going to corrupt me. Make me a power hungry tyrant, using my power to enslave and oppress. I shuddered at the thought of the future awaiting me. Unless that old wizard could figure it out. I kept quiet during the rest of the meal.

    They put us in a suite of rooms, with four bedrooms connected by a common area. Three of the bedrooms were open to us, and there were tubs of hot water waiting in each. I had hoped that maybe this place would have showers, but the plumbing required for modern showers just did not exist here. Yet who was I to say no to a bath when I had the dust of the road and the sweat of the day in my hair and clothes?

    I was still soaking when there was a knock on my door. ¡°Hey Finn, are you decent? Can we talk?¡± Harper asked, opening my door without waiting for an answer.

    ¡°Wait! I¡¯m still in the tub!¡± I cried out. I awkwardly tried to cover up as the door continued to open. Harper stopped opening the door before it swung the rest of the way.

    ¡°Well, hurry up. I have a bottle of wine that I need help with.¡± She said. The opened bottle and a couple of cups appeared around the door, tilting them back and forth. ¡°Juan¡¯s already asleep, probably these beds. They¡¯re super soft.¡±

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll meet you out there in a few minutes.¡± I replied. She laughed and closed the door. I stood up in the tub, dripping dry while I grabbed the provided towel. I quickly dried off and got dressed.

    Harper was sitting in one of the comfy chairs when I entered the common area, tilting her cup this way and that. She was already drunk, likely exhausted from the day¡¯s events. I sat down in one across from her and she handed me a cup, half full.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, Harper?¡± I asked, as I sipped my wine.

    ¡°This has been a really fucked up day.¡± She replied.

    ¡°Yeah it has. That whole thing is still messing with my head.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for not bringing it up during dinner. It was nice not to have to think about that. But now¡­¡± She tossed back her cup, ¡°Now there¡¯s nothing to distract from it. I need to talk about it. Or fuck it out.¡± She looked at me with half-lidded eyes.

    ¡°Harper. I need to talk about it, too.¡± I replied. She was drunk and not thinking straight. And I was a little drunk, too, but thoughts of Arilyn filled my mind, and I wanted her. Plus, Harper and I were becoming friends and I didn¡¯t have many of those here. I needed to nip this in the bud here and now. ¡°And even if we had sex, the problems would still be there.¡± Did I imagine the disappointment I saw in her eyes then? Did it matter?

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    ¡°Okay Finn, you¡¯re right. You know, I just passed my 34<sup>th</sup> birthday a few months ago. Not that I look it, with being half elf, half demonic horror. Isn¡¯t that weird? I still look mostly like I did when I was 18.¡±

    I hadn¡¯t known that. It explained some of the slang she had used. Like she hung out more with adults than kids her own age, only she really was an adult well before me. ¡°it¡¯s cool, I guess. You won¡¯t be needing any of that stuff injected into your forehead. Botox, I think?¡±

    ¡°Heh, yeah. All those fake bitches from high school probably need all kinds of lipo and boob lifts.¡± She poured herself more wine and took a mouthful. ¡°It¡¯s not all rainbows and puppies. People didn¡¯t treat me well for a while. Got stuff thrown at me, chased out of towns, and it hurt. A lot. Just because of the way I look. Just like at home. It didn¡¯t matter that my family lived in the nicer neighborhood or that my parents drove nice cars. Just because I wasn¡¯t white, I wasn¡¯t good enough.¡±

    She noticed my raised eyebrows. She chuckled, ¡°You didn¡¯t know, did you? Because I sound white, right?¡± her smile was sad then, like she was being disappointed by yet another person.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know because you never told me. It doesn¡¯t change the fact that I feel like we¡¯re friends, and we went through some shit today that was really messed up. Whether you were white doesn¡¯t change how I think about you. It just means there¡¯s a lot about you I don¡¯t know. Just like you don¡¯t know a lot about me.¡± Her smile changed, and I smiled back.

    She took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°Sorry. Guess I¡¯m drunk! But it¡­ it is related. I¡¯m not human anymore. Didn¡¯t know how far from human I was. I¡¯m part demon! And it never hit me until today.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± I asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s kind of funny. I¡¯ve never run into demons before, or something connected to them. And today¡­ that light¡­ and that book. It was fascinating, even before Eric opened it. As soon as the seal went poof, I needed to see it, pick it up. I needed to feel it in my hands. Didn¡¯t realize how dangerous it was for me to even touch it.¡± She shuddered and drained her cup again before refilling it.

    ¡°You were unprepared for it,¡± I said. ¡°there was no way for you to know. Like a toddler pulling a cat¡¯s tail, not prepared for kitty to scratch them.¡±

    ¡°Something like that. Yeah. But with demons. They¡¯re going to fuck us both up, Finn!¡± she threw her head back dramatically. She looked at me sadly and drank down her cup again. She picked up the bottle, and found it empty. Before I could react, Harper reached over and grabbed my cup, drinking it down. ¡°Take me to bed, Finn,¡± she said. She shook her head, ¡°No. I mean, my bed. Help me to my bed. Please?¡±

    I took her to her room, and she laid down and immediately fell asleep. Carefully, I covered her up and left her room. When I lay down in my bed, thoughts of Arilyn kept me awake for a long time.

    ******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

    The next morning, Juan made Harper a cup of hangover tea. She sipped it, wincing at every noise until it did its work. We grabbed breakfast downstairs. We were in no hurry, as we waited to hear from Eric. Juan excused himself as Harper and I sipped our coffees.

    ¡°Sorry about last night. I didn¡¯t mean to fall apart like that,¡± Harper said.

    ¡°Yesterday was difficult,¡± I said with a shrug. ¡°I didn¡¯t know how hard it was for you. And as long as I¡¯m able to be here, I want you to know I¡¯m here for you if you need a friend.¡±

    Harper cocked her head to the side. ¡°I thought we were already friends, Finn.¡±

    ¡°Right! I meant¡­ I¡¯m here,¡± I replied. ¡°but about the other thing¡­¡±

    ¡°I was drunk, and it won¡¯t happen again. The drunk part, yes. But hitting you up like that isn¡¯t going to.¡± She made a face. ¡°No offense, but you¡¯re kind of young for me. And it looked like you were thinking of someone else. Was it that circus girl? She was fine.¡±

    I blushed a little. ¡°Pretty sure that wasn¡¯t a circus, but yeah. I was thinking of Arilyn.¡±

    Harper laughed. ¡°Is that her name? Damn, she was definitely fine. Too bad you¡¯re likely to never see her again, her being in the company of a god and all.¡±

    I frowned, not wanting to think about that. ¡°Seriously, Harper, I don¡¯t know how to deal with demons. I understand how policy and international relations work, mostly I think, but actual demons? I¡¯m out of my league here.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one. I¡¯ve only dealt with how I was treated when I changed my race. Never had anything to do with them. I¡¯ve met a few Cambions here and there, but it¡¯s not like they¡¯re common on this continent. And I¡¯m the only one of us that made this choice that I¡¯m aware of. I never wanted to meet any actual demons. Or even gods. It¡¯s unsettling. Even doing jobs for temples is weird.¡±

    A young man, I think he was one of the stable hands, came rushing in. ¡°Is General Venegas here? Wizard Eric wishes to see him immediately!¡± the young man said.

    ¡°We¡¯ll let him know,¡± replied Harper. She tossed him a coin, and he smiled after catching it. We left the young man behind as we went for Juan. It wasn¡¯t really necessary, as he was heading down the hall toward us and the stairs.

    ¡°What is it?¡± he asked. He must have seen something in our faces.

    ¡°Eric sent a boy to get you,¡± Harper replied.

    Juan smiled. ¡°Eric must have worked through the night. Let¡¯s not keep him waiting.¡±

    The stable hand had left as soon as Juan told him we were on our way, running to let the wizard know. It seemed inefficient to me. I mean, why waste the energy to run back when we were only a ten-minute walk away? It didn¡¯t help that I was ready to run, too. Harper, on the other hand, seemed tense about going back to the wizard¡¯s workshop.

    The Royal Library was just as astonishing the second time, and Harper practically dragged me through it to Eric¡¯s office at the back. What can I say? The place was absolutely amazing! But the office was a juxtaposition, rolls of paper everywhere, with mathematical formulas, numbers, and symbols all over them. They were overflowing on the tables and even tacked to the shelves. Eric himself, his hair frazzled, stood looking at one tacked up sheet, shaking his head.

    ¡°Eric,¡± Juan said, ¡°My friend. Did you sleep at all?¡±

    ¡°Of course I slept,¡± Eric snapped, ¡°If only for an hour. Look at this! It¡¯s a mess! I¡¯ve worked out almost everything except this portion. A portion that is missing from George¡¯s reading and my sister¡¯s. And I have no idea what it means. Sure, there is a correlation of location between the three, but on the others, it¡¯s replaced with those wretched demonic symbols! Infuriating!¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s what¡¯s normally supposed to be there for mages?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Well, I think so. I have no point of reference other than your reading. Every class has a unique string of formulas, which I can mostly decode. It¡¯s what makes the classes different from each other. This one is strange, as it has symbols I¡¯ve never seen before. I wish I had more pre-corrupted mage readings, but I might as well wish for a way home!¡±

    Juan stepped up to look at the formulas on the long sheet, rubbing his goatee. ¡°You know, Eric, when I used to be a programmer, we had certain parts of the coding that were always the same because they worked and fit the logic. So much of what I did was using those bits and figuring out how to use the logic to make the computer do what I wanted. I was talking to a newer programmer several years ago, and she mentioned they did something similar, only they had a library or something they could access that had solutions for programming that someone else had figured out. That most of programming involved going to this place by an engine or some nonsense. I wonder if this has something to do with the Surge ability mages have? Like the berserker¡¯s ability? Just copied over?¡±

    Eric shook his head, ¡°no, the Surge ability is on this sheet to the left. It doesn¡¯t change with the corruption. But maybe you¡¯re on to something. I¡¯ll need to crosscheck the formulae of other classes and see if I can decode it.¡± He stood there for a moment, pondering. ¡°I also wanted to ask young Finn a few questions. And pass on the good news!¡±

    ¡°What is it, Eric?¡± Juan asked.

    Eric looked at us, grinning. ¡°I figured out how the corruption happens! It is surprisingly simple because it doesn¡¯t happen without a choice. The demonic symbology in the corrupted mage¡¯s readings translates partially as a contract, meaning the demon couldn¡¯t do anything without the consent of the mages! I have a treatise on the written language of demons, which is remarkably complex. Each symbol comprises several concepts that can change based on the following symbols. Needless to say, part of the bargain includes power for some personal goal, but it¡¯s not clear what.¡±

    He looked at us, waiting for us to understand. When we didn¡¯t, he continued. ¡°If Finn here doesn¡¯t agree to the deal, the demon cannot corrupt him. And it¡¯s likely not going to happen before he hits at least level ten. Everything I¡¯ve read agrees that it happens somewhere between levels ten and thirty. So he should be good for now. And avoid any deals for things beyond the norm going forward.¡±

    I let out a breath I hadn¡¯t realized I was holding. ¡°So I have to choose to be corrupted. That¡¯s a relief. There¡¯s only one thing they could offer me, and that¡¯s a way home. And I do not want to become a monster and put my family at risk. So we¡¯re good. What questions did you want to ask me?¡±

    ¡°I had a few questions. One of them you just answered. But I was also wondering if you still heard the tutorial spirit?¡±

    I hadn¡¯t even thought about the Voice for a long time. Since it had stopped answering my questions, I had apparently written it off and just stopped thinking about it. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t. Not since Juan found me. Why is that important?¡±

    Eric¡¯s face hardened, yet was sad. ¡°My sister, who also had been a mage, griped about it up until she started changing. We all heard it. It would narrate or mention things we did, right or wrong. Especially with quests. It¡¯s been years since I last heard it, and my conclusion after speaking with other people from our world is that it leaves us alone when we leave the path it sets for us. My wife and I stopped adventuring a long time ago, and the last time it remarked on something I did was when I earned the position of Wizard of the Royal Court. And it sounded disappointed. Make of that what you will.¡±

    Juan put a hand on his friend¡¯s shoulder. I was struck with the understanding that what happened to his sister drove Eric to everything he did now. The research, the excitement at meeting me, and the almost manic approach he had taken. But the Voice. What the hell did that have to do with any of this? I was a college student, but my brain was not wrapping itself around this. I needed to have it explained to me.

    ¡°Eric? What does not hearing the voice have to do with the corruption of mages?¡± I asked.

    The old wizard sighed and straightened out his robe. ¡°You know, robes are quite comfy. I didn¡¯t think so at first when I got here, but they¡¯re great for not worrying about things bunching up down there like with pants. For the longest time, I thought it was strange that I woke up in robes in this world. Like the Voice, as you call it, knew what I was going to pick. After I learned more, I found out that all but one of the classes offered to me regularly wore robes. Just like it had a plan for me based on what I might choose. Each of the classes were ones I thought about choosing, but I thought being a wizard would be neat. I had grown up loving the Arthurian stories. Camelot. Merlin. But it knew. It knew what I would choose.¡±

    ¡°But what does that mean for me?¡± I asked again. I knew I was going to feel the idiot once he explained, but I needed clarity.

    ¡°The Voice had a path for us to follow, and as long as we are on that path, certain events were likely to happen. We would run into quests, find certain types of loot that sometimes would lead us in a certain direction based on what they were. Something fancy and maybe magical? We had to find someone to pay for them to use their magic and identify what it was. None of us get spells to identify magical artifacts, rings, weapons, or armor.¡±

    His face got that hard, sad look to it again. ¡°So my sister and I, plus the others, including Elana, stayed on the path for a long time. My sister, Sarah, kept insisting she say a blinking spot on the map. She wanted to go check it out. It took a lot of convincing, as none of us could see it, but we headed in that direction. When we were within a few miles, it was late, so we made camp. Sarah couldn¡¯t sleep, as she was excited. She took first watch. The next morning, Sarah¡­ changed. She no longer cared about the spot and told us we were right, there was nothing there. She stopped muttering about the Tutorial Spirit. I think it was no longer talking to her.¡±

    At that moment, I knew. I knew because I heard it in my head, and it scared me shitless. My face must have drained of color, because Harper looked at me with concern.

    Finn the Mage, having a powerful epiphany, has accepted a new quest. One of peril and discovery. Will he succumb to the seduction of Power? Will he die a horrible death at the hands of his companions? Or will Finn the Mage move forward with the Quest to track the beast?

    ¡°Finn, what¡¯s wrong?¡± Harper asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s the Voice. The Voice is talking to me again.¡±