Destination? Remote.

  Two clangs on the side of the carriage woke me up. I was already half-awake to begin with, but hey, I’ll take that too.

  I can’t lie. That was a refreshing nap. Better than sleeping on some wooden crates. That’s for sure. I’ll take this luxury over that anytime.

  I sit up. Everyone else is gone. Must’ve gotten off at other stops. Surely I didn’t miss mine, right? I inspect myself for everything I have.

  Poncho? Worn.

  Dagger? Holstered.

  Golden Insignia? Pinned.

  Black bandages? Still trying to figure out what they do.

  I give out a sigh of relief. Okay. Everything’s still on me. And…I’m still in this world. For some reason, I have that…that feeling that maybe everytime I go to sleep, I’ll wake up.

  I’ll truly wake up.

  On the hospital bed. Back to the normal.

  But it doesn’t happen. I’m not disappointed. My expectations were already low. Not like I placed my hopes on it. Never did bet on it.

  But…I guess you could say I had some faith. Faith in the unbelievable.

  I slowly get up, and my legs start moving. I take two slow steps out of the carriage, and look at the horizon. The sky painted with a gradient blue and purple.

  Sunset.

  I exit the carriage finally. The air felt different, not hot and dry like in the last time. More chill, a bit more. A considerable breeze blew by me. It felt rewarding, even if I felt like I did nothing.

  As the carriage began making its way back on a dirt path, I look forward. A large gate. It wasn’t…cheap. That’s what caught me off guard.

  The iron gate colored in black, with the walls themselves covered in black paint. It was still there however, most of it was built with bricks.

  As per usual, there was the sign. Inscribed into the wall with white lettering. But…thing is, as I already know. I’m blind. No point in trying to make out what that is.

  I didn’t know what to do, and there wasn’t really a doorbell for me to gain their attention.

  No doorbell, no guards in sight. Great. What now?

  The lamps that were attached to the higher ends of the gate automatically turned on. Kickstarted with a light. Was that…an electric bulb?

  An actual bulb? As in, actual light? People over here have created that? Something as crazy as that?

  That made me ponder. Questioning my thoughts on this world. So foreign. Calling back, I think the barn had one as well. At the time I assumed it was apart of my imagination, that this world…was still, you know.

  But now that I know it’s the real deal? It makes me wonder. What else do they have?

  Unfortunately, I couldn’t think much of that. I heard the sounds of heels clicking. Multiple, actually. It wasn’t until I narrowed my vision down to where I was able to see a horse behind the black gate, and someone atop.

  The person got closer, and I could make out their features. Light skin, brown hair and brown eyes. This might be the most basic person I’ve seen of yet. No extra features, no nothing.

  I sigh. It’s nice to see a buck-average human for once.

  He got off, and didn’t tie the horse anywhere. He trusted it enough to not wander away. He seemed to go away from my sight partially, as the gates mechanically opened.

  “‘Bout time you got here.” He says, hurried, quick. I fix my posture. His tone caught me off guard, as if he’s known me for a long time. So casual. Too casual.

  I simply nod. Not causing any concern. I don’t know yet about anything. I don’t know if this guy…knows I’m not the guy he’s supposed to be seeing.

  He looks at me, and moreso at my face. His face lights up, I can’t tell if it’s really excitement or amuse. A mixture of both.

  “The republic didn’t tell me they would be sending me a leafie now.” He says. Emphasizing on that part. It gives me some sense of standing. Leafie?

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  As in…new leaf? That’s what he means, right?

  The word lingers in my head, but something in his tone—it’s wrong. Not casual, not friendly. His grin isn’t just a grin. It’s the kind of smile you give right before you say something you know is going to sting.

  I’m starting to think that being called…leafie, is not a good thing.

  Also, the republic. He mentioned it. This is the second time I’ve heard it. Is it a large organization? A secret club? I might step out of line if I ask something like that…especially if the guy is assuming I came directly from there.

  Let’s not raise any red flags, yet.

  He walks around, inspecting me. He pinches my poncho, revealing my fur-lined hoodie underneath. He doesn’t bat an eye at it however. Weird. Maybe clothing like this is accepted?

  Or is it because I’m a leafie he doesn’t give a damn how I dress?

  I don’t bother answering that question.

  He continues to walk around me. Inspecting me. He looks at me, as I continue to look straightforward. Not batting an eye towards him. His grin starts to fall. I could see it on his face barely, maybe something of slight shock?He looks to the side, and then back at me. His shock is growing, but he barely manages to hide it.

  He waves his arm around, and his expression and attitude do a complete 180.

  “Sorry for that. Looks like the sent someone actually capable for this.”

  I furrow a brow, “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I thought you were some leafie. Or worse, a crossbreed.”

  I slowly nod my head in acception. I don’t know what the hell this guy is saying. But…I’m going to act like I do. It wouldn’t take long for context clues to fill it in.

  Leafie—bad.

  Crossbreed—even worse.

  He puts a hand on my shoulder, and he eyes the golden insignia that was on my poncho.

  “Tell me, what’s your name? The file and information the ‘public sent over must’ve got lost.” He says. I quietly give out a deep sigh of relief. That means a whole lot, and makes my situation better.

  I let the silence linger for a second too long. A single moment of hesitation.

  Conveniently, they don’t know who the guy from the Republic is. There is no information on the guy from the Republic. For all they know, anyone could’ve shown up with this Golden Insignia and say, I’m ready for work.

  “Lucien.” I tell him. He motions me to walk with him, and I do so.

  He scoffs shortly after, “Alright Lucien, surely you have a family name, hm?”

  I nod on reaction. Forgot about that. Do I even use my real last name? Seems too dangerous. I don’t know my full situation here at Korioh Landings yet. It’s better to use an alias.

  It doesn’t take me long to come up with one do. One was already in the back of my mind the previous several hours.

  “Rainrunner.” I tell him.

  “Lucien Rainrunner.”

  He hops on his horse, and motions for me too, but I decline. I’m not here to be given a tour of the place. I just need to gain vital information, and work off of that.

  He mutters something like suit yourself before flicking the reins, his horse trotting ahead. I don’t bother processing his words. My focus is locked elsewhere

  The mountains loom in the distance, jagged and broken, like the teeth of some long-dead colossus. Time and erosion have carved deep scars into their surfaces, leaving them cracked and rugged—silent remnants of an ancient battle between land and sky. They stand far off, watching, unmoving.

  Beneath them, the plains roll out in waves, but the grass isn’t green—it’s sunburnt yellow, dry and thin, swaying lazily with each passing breeze. The soil underneath is packed tight, hardened by years of wind and weather, leaving deep fissures like veins across the land.

  Even the air tastes different here. Crisp, but tinged with something stale. Dust? No, something older. Something settled deep into the bones of this land.

  Massive oak trees dot the horizon, standing like forgotten sentinels, their gnarled roots breaking through the earth, while small ponds reflect the fading sun, mirroring the streaks of violet and orange in the sky.

  This place…

  It’s eerily quiet, save for the distant caws of scavenger birds circling overhead and the occasional whistle of the wind threading through the valley.

  So this is Korioh Landings, huh? A national park? It doesn’t feel like one.

  Who the hell sends someone to work at a national park?

  …and even worse—who in their right mind would accept a job here in someone else’s place?

  I sigh.

  Contradictory, I get it. It’s my own flaw.

  We walk over a wooden bridge, and encounter other people. Humans, I presume. My scenic tour waves at them. They wave at me too, all I do is give them a simple nod.

  Uncharted territory this is. I’m not out the running yet.

  We press on, covering what feels like half a mile before the landscape shifts. The rolling plains and scattered oaks give way to something more structured—more controlled.

  The dirt path beneath my boots hardens, packed tight by the weight of frequent traffic—carriages, heavy boots, livestock. Deep-worn wheel ruts carve into the earth, guiding us forward, as if countless others have taken this same road before me.

  The first sign of civilization appears—a row of squat, rectangular buildings. They aren’t homes, not really. Their drab, beige stone walls and iron-reinforced wooden doors scream function over comfort. The kind of buildings meant to be used, not lived in. Workshops? Storage? I’m not sure. Even the “language” fails to reassure me what it could be.

  Further in, the layout opens up into something oddly uniform.

  A wide, circular plaza sits at the center of it all, its surface flattened and cleared of debris, like some kind of town square that never quite became a town. At the middle of this space stands a raised wooden platform—not for decoration, not for speeches. I don’t need to be told what it’s for.

  Around the perimeter, rows of houses stand in near-perfect symmetry. Not tents, not temporary lodging—actual homes. But their uniformity is unnerving—each one identical to the next, built from the same beige stone as the earlier buildings, with black shingle roofs and narrow, shuttered windows. The kind of place where every door leads to the same story.

  “Alright. Here we are.” He says. His horse comes to a full stop as I just wipe my eyes after taking in multiple sights. My brain will have time to comprehend it later.

  “Settle in. Get used to it. You’re here for the next six months.” His eyes take a shot at the golden insignia pinned on my poncho. My eyes slightly widen. He said it so casually that it almost slipped my mind. Even past my ears.

  Six. Months.

  I have to stay here for six months?

  The dots connect in my head. No wonder why the previous guy didn’t want to go here. Staying here and doing whatever the job is not the hard part.

  Is that you are practically away from home for half a calender year…or I assume. Still shaky on time around here.

  I look behind me. Is it too late to run away? No point. I’ve already made my decision. I guess this is what I get for jumping at every oppurtunity.

  “We’ll add a nameplate to your housing, but it’s right there. Sorry again for the short notice.” He points towards an house. A clone just like the others. I get a house? For free?

  My brain tries to weigh the pros and cons. My face almost shows the surprise on my face before I quickly hide it with my poncho.

  “Your intern day will be tomorrow, I’ll be by to teach you everything and anything about this. If only those slaves can stop being rattled…”

  My eyes widen. Sharply.

  I don’t turn. I don’t do anything.

  My brain rushes. So much information, but everything is discarded to point out the greater thing.

  Wait, did he just—? No. No, I misheard. Right?

  Slaves?

  What do you mean, slaves?

  I don’t turn towards him and he gives me a pat on the back, “Stay strong, alright? Call me if you get lost.”

  His horse clotters away, and it fades out. I can only watch the people on, going on about their routines.

  There’s no way.

  Just.

  What.

  What did I get myself into.