If Lena was a commoner (which she was), she would be the chillest commoner in all the nds. Aside from cooking and tending to the gardens, her daily routine consisted of nothing but leisure: lounging in her chair, knitting scarves, hats, and occasionally, a bnket for her beloved table cat. Her knitting was a special art, often winding the thread just tightly enough to give the impression of purpose without actually having to finish anything, which led to Tabby having five different half-done bnkets.

  She also spent an obscene amount of time napping. It wasn’t that she was zy; it was just that napping was an art form in itself, one she had mastered over the years. Rob had told her to stop napping or she would lose sleep at night, but she'd cimed it was ‘meditative,’ as if snoozing with her mouth open on the windowsill could bring crity of mind.

  Whenever it was time to get something done, like sweeping the floor or washing the dishes, Lena had no shame in immediately calling for Rob. “Hey, Rob, could you do this for me? My hands are busy with this very important knitting project. I can’t risk messing up a stitch!”

  Rob, of course, would sigh in silence but always oblige because, well, Lena had perfected the art of looking just busy enough to make him feel guilty for not helping.

  But what she had been doing the most for the past week was reading.

  “Orcs are so cool!” Lena excimed as she took another sip of her tea. “Oh I wish I can be as strong as an orc without looking like one! Just lifting things like they’re nothing, punching through walls, carrying an entire wagon over my head!”

  Yesterday, she had dreamed of being a Dwarf. The day before that, a Chicken Whisperer (?!). Table had no idea what being a Chicken Whisperer entailed.

  As Rob walked past, he sighed and set his tools down. “Are you actually reading that book, or just daydreaming about being a rampaging orc?” He looked like a man who had to work hard in his life: dirt all over his body and a smear of mud across his chest.

  “I am reading,” Lena insisted. “Did you know orcs have a secret coming-of-age ritual where they wrestle a bear? And if they win, the bear acknowledges them as a true warrior and lets them ride on its back?”

  Rob squinted. “That doesn’t sound real.”

  “It’s totally real,” Lena said, waving her book in his face. “Says so right here. Orcish Traditions & Wildly Unverified Myths, third edition.”

  Rob pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s not a historical text, Lena. That’s a pulp adventure novel. Can you help me with sorting the grain sacks?”

  Lena immediately sank deeper into her chair. “Oof. That sounds super important.”

  “It is.”

  “And so technical.”

  “It’s literally putting sacks in order by weight.”

  “Right, right. And that requires a sharp eye, steady hands, and an understanding of complex grain dynamics.”

  “It requires picking up a sack and moving it five feet, Lena.”

  Lena let out a long, theatrical sigh, flipping a page in her book. “You know, in orc culture, it’s actually a great honor to sort the grain. Very prestigious work. No wonder you want to do it all by yourself.”

  He squeezed his forehead. “Just do it for me, Lena.”

  “I’m just teasing you, sweetheart. I always help out,” she continued. “I cooked dinner. I helped gather the eggs. I—”

  “—fell asleep in the haystack and made me go get the eggs myself?” Rob interjected.

  “W-well! The point is, whenever I’m awake, I’m always ready to take on more household tasks.” You aren’t, though. You’re just trying to weasel your way out of work. She set the book on Table, grabbed the first sack, lifted it with a huff, and immediately frowned. “By the Lords, this is heavy.”

  “That’s the usual sack, Lena.”

  “Usual for you!” She said as she dropped the sack, and instead of carrying it, she dragged it along.

  This woman… I wonder why a fair man like Rob fell for her. I mean, she’s good-looking and has a nice voice, but it isn’t like he’s just a farmer boy who can’t punch his way upward. Oh wait, he is.

  Only now that Blorbo realized that the book was on him, and the pages were opened. He was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to understand the nguage of the text in the book, but lucky for him, there were only pictures in the two pages opened before him. It was a map, spanning over both pages.

  Blorbo stared at the open pages, at first just annoyed that he had somehow become a glorified bookstand, but then, curiosity got the better of him. The map was illustrated in rich, flowing ink strokes, with small, detailed sketches decorating each region, presumably depicting its inhabitants.

  At the westernmost point of the map was a nd beled The Kingdom of Caerfort, with neat, towering castles and quaint farmnd stretching between them. The figures drawn here were entirely human—men in armor, women in dresses, and people in noble costumes, all of whom, without fail, had immacute mustaches. Just below that was another human-dominated region called The Grand Kingdom of Litarpege, which had more rolling hills and vineyards. The humans here were drawn with feathered hats and ruffled sleeves, posing in an almost obnoxiously refined manner. His gaze nded on a massive walled city near the center of the continent. Unlike the other regions, which had sprawling nds and scattered settlements, this pce was drawn with towering spires, grand halls, and massive gates adorned with radiant symbols.

  The Assembly of Lumenhold.

  Wait a damn second.

  How can I read this? I have never once in my existence as a table learned how to read in this world.

  There was one more thing. He didn’t remember the nguages he’d spoken in his st life, but he was rather sure they were statistically much more likely to be different ones than that he was speaking now.

  Was his linguistic ability given to him upon his birth?

  Doesn’t matter. Read first, ask ter.

  To the south, there were rough, jagged mountains marked as The Peaky Peaks, and the figures living there had broad shoulders, thick beards, and stubby legs. Dwarves, Table assumed. Many were sketched wielding hammers, some working a forge, others drinking out of impossibly rge tankards. Beside them was a neighboring forested realm, The Gdy Gde, filled with tall, lean figures with pointed ears. Elves. They were depicted standing gracefully beneath massive trees, many of which had homes carved directly into them.

  Then, there were pces where both humans and elves were sketched together, and others where dwarves and elves stood side by side—though, oddly, some of the elves in those drawings had their arms crossed, looking annoyed if anything, while the dwarves were grumbling. Even in books, these guys don’t get along, huh?

  Moving northwards along the map, Blorbo spotted an area marked The Verdant Expanse, its inhabitants drawn with muscur frames, thick tusks, and rge, green faces. Orcs, probably. They were sketched in the middle of battle, locked in combat with massive creatures that he couldn’t identify from his limited knowledge, riding enormous boars, and in one case, wrestling a bear.

  Lena wasn’t kidding.

  A nd to the east caught his eye. It was mountainous, but not like the jagged, rocky homes of the dwarves. These peaks were softer, rolling clouds drawn across the valleys. Perched atop floating ptforms were figures who… at first gnce, looked human. But then Table noticed that all of them had oddly serene expressions, man-buns tied neatly at the tops of their heads, and some were even levitating.

  Wait, what?

  He squinted at the bel: The Ascended Monasteries of Yunzhong.

  What do you mean Ascended Monasteries?

  Further down, near the coastline, things got even stranger. A region beled The Sapphire Shores was marked with intricate swirls of blue ink. At first, Table thought the figures in the water were mermaids, their long, flowing tails swaying beneath the waves. But upon closer inspection, he realized…

  Those aren’t mermaids.

  They were seahorses.

  Not riding seahorses. Not half-human, half-fish creatures. Just… actual seahorses. And they were wearing what looked like tiny crowns.

  …WHAT?!

  There were dragons drawn in the dens marked across some mountains, there were elves and dwarves coexisting (kind of), there were literal humans defying the ws of physics in floating monasteries. But this? This was where he drew the line. Why were the seahorses royalty?

  There was even a little castle at the bottom of the sea.

  But before he could have a closer look, Lena had returned, taken the book away, and sat on her chair again, humming to herself as she continued her book about orcs.

  Don’t take it away! That’s like the only entertainment I’ve gotten the entire week!

  “Oh dear! They can lift mountains too!” She excimed. “Wait. Why is there a man sitting on the clouds in the maps?”

  Guess I’ll never find out.