They worked through the afternoon, gradually restoring order to the devastated garden. Each approached the task differently—Cinder efficiently clearing debris, Pyra chaotically replanting, Ember gently coaxing terrified vegetables back into the soil, Kindle humming happily as she watered seedlings with a can that occasionally dribbled water into her shoes when she least expected it, and Ash brooding by the pumpkin patch.

  By the time the largest of the three moons began peeking over the distant mountains, the garden looked reasonably respectable. Different, certainly—the rows weren't quite as straight as they had been, and several plants had been replanted upside-down by Pyra before Ember noticed—but functional.

  The cottage door creaked open, and the wizard reappeared, eyeing their handiwork with an air of bemused acceptance.

  "Hmph," he grunted, poking at a replanted cabbage with his staff. "Sloppy, but acceptable. At least you didn't set anything else on fire."

  "About that," Kindle said, brushing dirt from her knees. "We've decided on names! I'm Kindle, and these are my sisters—Pyra, Cinder, Ember, and Ash!"

  "Sisters?" The wizard's eyebrows shot up like startled caterpillars. "You're claiming kinship now?"

  "Well, we're technically all the same person," Ember explained gently. "Just...aspects of her. Of me. Of us." She frowned. "I'm not sure which pronouns apply."

  The wizard stared at them for a long moment, then shook his head. "Extraplanars. Always so complicated." He gestured toward the cottage. "Come inside. You've earned a meal, and I suppose we should discuss your...predicament."

  The cottage interior hit them with a wall of competing sensory experiences—herbs hanging from ceiling beams, mysterious bubbling potions, shelves crammed with leather-bound tomes, and curiously, a fat orange cat that appeared to be floating six inches above a cushioned chair.

  "Sit," the wizard commanded, gesturing to a sturdy table. "Proper introductions are in order. I am Thaddeus Thornbriar, Master Herbalist and Archmage of the Sixth Circle."

  "Sixth out of what?" asked Pyra, her eyes eagerly scanning the strange array of alchemical tools on the counter.

  "...never mind." Thaddeus sighed, busying himself with lighting several half-melted candles. "What is this place you hail from? How did you come to cross between worlds?"

  As Thaddeus stoked a fire under a kettle, they began recounting the story—their origin on Earth, Abigail's powers, the battle with Nyx, the curse, and finally the accident with the dimensional stabilizer. By the time they finished, Thaddeus had served them steaming mugs of what looked like tea, but emitted faint blue wisps when stirred.

  "I've never heard of such a curse," Thaddeus mused, his fingers drumming on the table. "This sorceress...her magic must be immense."

  "So, you can't fix us?" asked Pyra, her voice unusually subdued.

  Thaddeus exchanged glances with his floating cat. "Removing such an entangled curse is beyond my skill. Your best hope would be a higher-ranked mage, or perhaps someone versed in ancient magics."

  "Higher-ranked? I thought you were a super-important wizard?" Kindle looked crestfallen.

  "Not in the grand scheme of things. I'm just a simple herbalist, really, retired from more...taxing pursuits." Thaddeus scratched at his beard. "You should seek a higher circle—perhaps a master of one of the seven archaic schools."

  "Where do we find one of those?" asked Ember, the practical one.

  The wizard shrugged. "The closest would be the Mage Tower of Amaranth. That's the city-state to the north. But it's a fair distance, and those eggheads don't often concern themselves with outsiders."

  "What about just sending us back? Can you do that?" asked Cinder.

  The wizard's expression sobered. "Child, if what you describe is accurate, you didn't merely travel between dimensions—you crashed through them. The rift that brought you here has long since healed. Creating another would require power beyond even the greatest mages of our realm."

  Pyra's flames dimmed slightly. "So...we're stuck here? Forever?"

  "I didn't say that," Thaddeus corrected. "Only that conventional methods won't suffice." He rose from the table and pulled a massive tome from a nearby shelf. "There are legends of artifacts capable of bending reality—the Prism of Endless Paths, the Multiversal Lodestone, the Keystone of Realms..."

  "Actual magical artifacts?" Kindle bounced in her seat, sparks trailing from her hair. "That's even better than going home right away! We get to go on a quest!"

  "A dangerous quest," Thaddeus warned. "These artifacts aren't trinkets gathering dust in someone's attic. They're heavily guarded, hidden in places of great peril."

  Ember exchanged glances with her counterparts. "We don't exactly have many options."

  "And hey," Pyra added, her flames brightening, "we've got superpowers! Fire, speed—we're basically built for questing!"

  "About that," Thaddeus said, clearing his throat. "Your...abilities. They'll mark you as something other in Eldoria. We have fire mages, certainly, but none who embody flame as you do. You'd be wise to exercise caution."

  Cinder snorted. "Caution isn't exactly our collective strong suit."

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

  "We'll be careful," Ember promised, shooting Pyra a warning glance.

  Ash, who had been silent throughout the conversation, spoke softly. "Our curse is both blessing and burden in this new world. The sorceress intended it as punishment, yet it may be the very thing that saves us here."

  The others turned to her, puzzled.

  "Five perspectives," Ash continued softly. "Five ways of seeing, thinking, feeling. What one misses, another notices. What one fears, another embraces."

  "That's...surprisingly optimistic coming from you," Cinder remarked.

  "I am not optimistic." Ash's eyes reflected the candlelight. "I simply see truth, however harsh."

  "Well, the first thing we'll need is directions," Ember said, ever the organizer. "If Amaranth is our best starting point..."

  Thaddeus closed his tome with a thump. "You may stay here tonight. Tomorrow, I'll direct you to the nearest town—they have a weekly caravan heading north. Shouldn't be hard for someone of your...uniqueness to find passage."

  Pyra's eyes lit up, flames dancing in her irises. "A real fantasy city? With merchants and bards and adventurers?"

  Cinder rolled her eyes. "You realize we're penniless and clueless in this world, right? Adventuring is a little ambitious."

  "Perhaps not," Thaddeus said slowly. "Adventurers operate outside the law, free to seek work, danger, and reward wherever they may. Their guilds span the realm."

  "Wait, really?" Pyra's excitement mounted. "We could be, like, actual professional adventurers? With quests and treasure and fame?"

  Ash leaned forward, eyes intense. "And the freedom to pursue these powerful artifacts, outside the constraints of local bureaucracy."

  Thaddeus nodded. "The Adventurers' Guild offers the best chance for free movement throughout the lands." He paused. "Though, to be frank, I expected more reluctance. Adventuring is no trivial pursuit. Danger is plentiful, and death is...not uncommon."

  But the five had already exchanged looks.

  "So, we're agreed?" asked Ember. "We join the Adventurers' Guild?"

  Pyra leapt to her feet, fiery fists clenched. "Hell yeah! Time to get our quest on!"

  Thaddeus blinked. "And I thought the Alderfolk were volatile," he muttered before heading to a small kitchen area and beginning to rummage through cupboards. "Now, let's see about that meal I promised before the rest of my property spontaneously combusts..."

  As Thaddeus showed them to a small room with straw pallets for sleeping, it became abundantly clear that the cottage hadn't been designed with five guests in mind, let alone five duplicates of the same guest. It also became abundantly clear that they hadn't quite perfected the art of cooperating.

  After the wizard left, they argued for a solid five minutes about who slept where, each asserting that their individual merits deserved the two comfortable-looking pallets.

  "Come on," Kindle whined, "I did half the planting! And my hair's still full of dirt. Doesn't that warrant some comfort?"

  "Only because you kept chucking seeds everywhere," Cinder huffed. "You should sleep in the dirt patch you made outside."

  Pyra flung herself dramatically onto a pallet. "Well, I claimed it! It's mine now!"

  "I don't think so." Ember attempted to pull Pyra off the pallet.

  Ash slunk towards the darkest corner, dragging a musty blanket with her.

  "Oh no, you don't!" Kindle grabbed Ash's arm, but a thin mist slithered up to her nostrils, making her recoil. "Ew, stop that! It smells like... sadness and stale bread."

  Ember continued trying to extricate Pyra from the now thoroughly rumpled bedding. "You're sleeping on the floor," she insisted, punctuating each word with a tug.

  Pyra blew a smoke ring in her face. "Make me."

  Meanwhile, Cinder had started shoving the two rickety pallets together. "This trip's already been a disaster; I'm not spending the night with a crick in my neck." She pointed imperiously at the lone decent pallet. "Ember gets that one. She's the stable one."

  "Oh, what, so I'm unstable?" Pyra fumed, sparks trailing from her hair.

  "I'm surprised you even know the meaning of the word," Cinder scoffed.

  Ash had succeeded in draping the blanket over her head in the corner, as if she was a ghost from a cheap haunted house. "I shall spend the night contemplating the futility of action."

  Kindle waved a hand in front of her nose, dispelling another wispy, noxious tendril. "You're also contemplating bathing. Go stand in a puddle or something, you gloomy lump."

  "Hey!" Pyra raised her voice, literally flaming with indignation. "That's my...I mean our...ugh, whatever! Stop being mean to Ash!"

  "It's just the facts," Kindle mumbled.

  "Don't worry about me," Ash moaned, curling up tighter. "Someday, I'll return to the dirt."

  "Geez," Pyra threw up her hands. "Anybody else want to pile on Ash while we're at it?"

  Ember pinched the bridge of her nose. "Would everyone just calm down? We're all exhausted, disoriented, and emotionally drained. Fighting over beds is not helping."

  Cinder perched on the edge of the combined pallets, arms folded. "I'm still getting a bed. I've already done all the hard work pushing these things together."

  Pyra scooted closer to Cinder, batting her eyelashes. "Room for one more?"

  "No."

  Kindle plopped down next to them, pulling a stray weed from her hair. "It's like a sleepover! We can braid each other's hair and gossip about boys—"

  "Definitely no," Cinder repeated, shoving them away.

  Pyra and Kindle collapsed in a heap on the floor.

  "So undignified," Ash whispered, shaking her head slowly.

  Pyra propped herself up on an elbow, pointing at Ash. "Don't think I didn't see you skulking off to that corner. Get over here; we're having a floor pile-up."

  "I wish to remain a pariah," Ash muttered. "Unseen, untouched..."

  Ember gently pulled the blanket off Ash's head, only to be met with a resentful glare. "Oh, come on. Misery loves company, right?"

  With a weary sigh, Ash slunk over to the growing heap on the floor, settling down like a damp fog. "Fine. Commence the torment."

  A knock at the door interrupted the bickering. Thaddeus, slightly stooped and definitely fed up, scowled at them. "What in the Seven Hells is going on? It sounds like a pack of hyena imps in heat in here!"

  The five young women froze, four staring innocently at the wizard while the fifth (Ash) tried to disappear entirely into her blanket shroud.

  "We're having...a philosophical debate," Kindle tried.

  "...about proper bedding techniques," Ember finished, nodding slowly.

  "For maximum comfort and restorative sleep," Cinder added.

  Pyra looked around, incredulous. "Really?"

  "Enough!" Thaddeus's bushy eyebrows knitted together. "Sort yourselves out, and for the love of all that's sacred, keep it down. I don't care if you sleep standing on your heads, as long as you do it quietly!"

  With that, the wizard slammed the door, and the five women exchanged sheepish glances.

  "Right," Ember sighed. "Let's just...figure this out."