Astra was woken up by the soft glow of dawn coming in through the cracks in the dusty cabin walls and through the dirty windows. The room, which seemed mysterious and almost magical last night, now strangely felt ordinary and just plain dirty. The worn wooden planks beneath his feet, the cluttered shelves filled with odd almost broken trinkets, and the faint smell of smoke and herbs made it clear that this place had not seen life in decades or ever. It was a far cry from a memorable starting point of a magical journey, or maybe, that was exactly what would make it a memorable starting place.

  Bootstrap was already awake, seated at the small table by the window. He scrawled in a weathered leather journal, his pen darting across the page as his brow furrowed in intense focus. Astra noticed a subtle change in the old man’s demeanor this morning that wasn’t there last night. It was as if the daylight had brought with it a different reality, one that weighed heavier on Bootstrap’s shoulders.

  Astra stretched and rose quietly from the bundle of cloth in the corner, pulling the blankets around himself to ward off the morning chill. He glanced at the small bundle of clothes Bootstrap had given him: a sturdy cloak, worn gloves, and an old pair of boots that had clearly seen many miles. He dressed quickly, grateful for the warmth and the practicality of the outfit.

  Bootstrap glanced up as Astra approached the table. “Morning, kid” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. “Did you rest well? I hope the accommodations were sufficient.”

  “Well enough,” Astra replied, his gaze lingering on the journal as Bootstrap closed it with deliberate care and tucked it into his bag. There was obviously something special about that journal, something that made Astra curious and a little uneasy. Too bad now probably wasn’t the right time to ask about it.

  Bootstrap reached into his bag and handed Astra a small piece of dried jerky. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

  Astra accepted the jerky with a nod. “Thanks,” he said, biting into it. The taste was the same old salty and tough that he had last night. Surprisingly, Astra liked the taste and texture of it. Astra thought, It was tough because it had character. Yeah, that’s right. Character.

  As they ate, Astra couldn’t help but think that there was more to Bootstrap than meets the eye. The old man looked well traveled with his weathered cloak and boots and scars that marked his face and arms. Speaking of which, he also had a strange assortment of intricate tattoos and metallic band around his arms. Astra had always had a knack for reading people, and something about Bootstrap gave him an uncanny sense of familiarity. It was as if, deep down, he knew Bootstrap was someone he could trust, even if he couldn’t quite understand why. It was the kind of feeling you got when you met your best friend for the first time.

  “So, Bootstrap,” Astra began, hoping to draw the old man out of his guise of mystery, “Like, how does that gemstone actually work?”

  Taking a second to think about how to answer such a question, Bootstrap took a piece of paper from his journal. “It’s… complicated,” He said, his tone guarded. “Magic of this caliber doesn’t come with an instruction manual, I’m afraid. Its workings are as enigmatic as they are precise. Allow me to explain with a simple analogy. Imagine this paper represents space, an endless plane encompassing every point in the multiverse. Now, under ordinary circumstances, to move from one point to another, you’d traverse the distance between them directly, as if walking a straight line across this sheet. However, this gemstone defies that natural limitation. It has the ability to force the paper to bend and fold so that any two points on the paper will overlap with each other giving you no travel time whatsoever. Of course,” Bootstrap added with a small, wry smile, “such power is far from stable in its current state. The folded paper may tear if mishandled.” Seeing Astra’s puzzled face, Bootstrap demonstrated the concept with the paper. He folded it to show the overlapping points a couple of time. Noticing that Astra might not fully get it, Bootstrap sighed and said, “Just trust it.”

  “Hmm, trust it?” Astra raised an eyebrow. “I barely passed the mandatory schooling here. I can’t say that I have a strong foundation in fancy physics especially not magical physics. So, I don’t know, how do you know it’s going to take us where we need to go?”

  Bootstrap finished packing and slung his bag over his shoulder and gave Astra a long, considering look. “You don’t,” he said simply. “That’s the essence of adventure, isn’t it?” Bootstrap said, a faint, wistful smile curving his lips. “The not knowing. The uncertainty of what lies on the other side until you’re standing there, taking it all in. It’s the thrill of discovery, the challenge of adapting, and the beauty of experiencing the unknown. The journey itself, unpredictable as it may be, is as much a part of the magic as the destination.”

  Astra frowned, not entirely satisfied with that answer. “But… you’ve at least used it before, right? Surely, you seem to know how exactly it works.”

  Bootstrap’s eyes narrowed slightly as if he was debating on whether he should say more or not. “I’ve wielded it often enough to trust that it will guide us where we need to be,” Bootstrap said, his tone steady but edged with the weight of experience. “The finer details, though? They’re more complex than most could grasp. You’ll just have to trust me on this one, even if the mechanics elude you for now. Sometimes, having the courage to have faith in the process is worth more than the explanation.”

  Astra couldn’t tell if Bootstrap was hiding something or if this was just the way he was. But something about the old man’s demeanor made Astra uneasy, even though he couldn’t put his finger on why. There was something about Bootstrap that both intrigued and unsettled Astra. Still, despite the nagging doubts, Astra felt drawn to the man. There was a goodness in Bootstrap, a sense of purpose that made Astra want to believe in him. It was something that Astra wished he felt about himself too.

  “Okay, alright,” Astra said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “I’ll trust you… I guess.” Even though internally he knew he was about to be a fish out of water, he wanted to see where this led.

  Bootstrap nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Thank you.”

  As they finished their meal and prepared to leave, Astra felt a tingle down his spine like someone out there was watching them. He glanced around the cabin, his eyes darting back and forth to the shadows in the room, but there was nothing suspicious around. Still, the sensation persisted, a prickling at the back of his neck that made him shiver.

  “Is something the matter?” Bootstrap asked, noticing Astra’s unease.

  “I don’t know,” Astra replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, maybe it is the food you made or I’m getting paranoid, but it feels like we are being watched.”

  Bootstrap’s expression didn’t betray him, but there was a momentary flicker of caution in his eyes and tone of voice. “This place has a way of playing tricks on your senses,” he said, his voice even. “Best to keep your wits about you.”

  With that, Bootstrap turned and led Astra to the door. The morning air was crisp and light compared to yesterday. Even the forest seemed quiet and peaceful today. A bit too eerie for Astra’s taste because at this point Astra couldn’t shake the feeling that they weren’t alone.

  As they stepped outside, Bootstrap pulled the cracked gemstone from his pocket. The light caught on its fractured surface and cast neat little prismatic glimmers across the ground. Astra watched in fascination as the old man held it up to the light to appraise the gemstone.

  “How does it… I mean, what happens when you use it?” Astra asked, unable to contain his child-like curiosity.

  Bootstrap glanced at Astra, a small, wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’ll take us wherever it can. The transition itself is swift. Don’t worry. The jump is too fast for any real pain to settle in,” Bootstrap explained, his tone matter-of-fact. “That said, the experience can be… disorienting. Most feel a momentary wave of vertigo or nausea. It’s nothing debilitating just the cost of traveling the fabric of the multiverse in an instant.”

  Astra nodded, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever was about to happen. “So, we just… hold on to it? It is kind of small.”

  Bootstrap shook his head. “The gemstone’s magic functions through touch or proximity. It anchors anyone in physical contact with its user, pulling them along through the fold in space. So, whatever you do, keep hold of me. Letting go mid-jump isn’t something I’d recommend testing.”

  Astra swallowed hard trying to keep the food in his stomach down as the reality of what they were about to do sunk in. “And you’re 100% sure it’s safe, even for me?”

  Bootstrap chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “Safe? No. But nothing worth doing ever is.”

  Astra couldn’t help but smile at that. There was something reassuring in Bootstrap’s confidence even if the old man was intentionally teasing him. Astra reached out and grabbed Bootstrap’s arm feeling the rough fabric of the old man’s coat beneath his fingers.

  “Alright,” Astra said, his voice steady. “I’m ready.”

  Bootstrap gave a single nod. “Okay, Astra. Here we go.”

  “Wait, did I tell you my name yet?” Astra realized as the gemstone activated.

  With that, Bootstrap held on to the gemstone, closed his eyes, and projected his thoughts into the stone as hard as he could. Next thing they knew, they were standing in a new place. Space warped without warning, blurring their surroundings as reality stretched and snapped around them. Gravity vanished. Invisible forces yanked Astra in every direction, spinning him until he melted into the whirling chaos of his environment. The overwhelming sensations assaulted his senses, and before his mind could grasp what happened, everything slammed back to normal. The jump was exactly like Bootstrap had said, but also, Astra felt like the warning was not at all adequate for what he just went through.

  Both of them stumbled into a new place with Bootstrap adjusting much faster than Astra. The air in the new place was heavy and humid. Astra blinked once and saw that his vision was still unsteady as he tried to make sense of their surroundings. The suddenness of the jump left him with a nasty headache and the feeling like he was abruptly woken up from a deep mid-afternoon nap. Astra had to take a moment to let the headache and nausea pass.

  When Astra recovered from the nausea, Astra and Bootstrap found themselves at a crossroads between a giant rocky cliffside and a toxic looking swamp. The water was murky with purple bubbles rising out of it. Even the surrounding trees all tilted to the side like it was being weighed down by the heaviness of the swamp air. It seemed to Astra that they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. The cliff looked like it stretched all the way to the clouds as far as Astra was concerned and was too steep for even goats to dare climb.

  “Ugh, where are we, Bootstrap?” Astra asked as Bootstrap trudged on. “Wait, we aren’t really going into the swamp are we?” Focused on where he was stepping, Bootstrap silently continued on walking straight into the swamp. “I guess we are going into the swamp, then,” Astra said out loud to no one in particular.

  “We can’t use the gemstone to jump again for awhile since there is a refractory period after using it.” Bootstrap said in a matter of fact way as he continued to walk on. “Best to move forward.”

  Glancing at their surroundings again, Astra saw long skinny trees looming overhead with their roots all gnarled and twisted in the murky waters. Various bugs and animals lurked in the water peeking over to see them walk by just to run away as they got closer. The air was heavy with humidity, and an odd croaking echoed from somewhere in the distance.

  “Swamps! Nature’s cruel jest upon the landscape. If frozen wastelands are the earth’s inhospitable deserts of ice, swamps are the soggy abyss where the devil himself likely dipped his toes in disgust. Yet, they are a rite of passage for any traveler worth their salt. Like it or not, everyone trudges through at least one in their lifetime, and those who haven’t… well, they’ve yet to earn their stripes,” Bootstrap said out loud with a smirk as he lead the way through muddy dirt roads that could hardly be called land much less a road.

  “Man, I think I could have skipped it,” Astra muttered as he tried to scrape some tenacious gunk off his boots. After a couple of tries, the gunk jumped off his boots and startled the stuffings out of Astra. “Ugh, I really don’t like it here. This is definitely the opposite of the city I grew up in.” Astra’s eyes darted around, his unease rising as the distant splashes and croaks echoed closer. “And what is that sound?”

  Bootstrap chuckled, patting Astra’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid. It is but some of the local wildlife.” He started walking, gesturing for Astra to follow. “Come on, we’ve got to move before they discover us though.”

  “Thanks. Like, that makes me even more worried,” Astra’s words tumbled out in a shaky whisper.

  “Who’s they?” Astra’s voice rose with desperation as he asked.

  “Local cults devoted to the Swamp God infest these marshlands,” Bootstrap informed, his tone steady and unhurried. “If the relentless croaking of unseen creatures unnerves you, just wait until you cross paths with the cultists themselves. Truly delightful individuals,” he added with a faint hint of dry sarcasm.

  They trudged through the swamp one sloppy step at a time. Astra was still marveling at the odd flora and fauna around them. Glowing moss clung to the trees, casting an eerie green light on the water’s surface, and Astra could’ve sworn he saw a pair of eyes blink at him from beneath the murky depths. Even the trees felt like they were watching him. He could have sworn one of the trees he passed looked at him. He hurried closer to Bootstrap, sticking near his side.

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  Suddenly, a loud ribbit echoed through the trees followed by a chorus of strange, melodic croaks. Astra froze, eyes wide. “What is going on?”

  “Oh, those?” Bootstrap remarked, his smirk faint but unmistakable. “Giant singing frogs. The locals call them ‘greetfrogs.’ They’ve got a peculiar habit of welcoming visitors to the swamp with a boisterous serenade. Charming, right? Except their ‘songs’ can be loud enough to kill if enough of them decide to harmonize.”

  He glanced at Astra, amusement flickering in his eyes. “And as if that wasn’t delightful enough, the locals also use them as an early warning system. Their serenades double as a signal for when unsuspecting travelers like us stumble into the swamp. Efficient, if a bit murderous.”

  Walking a bit faster away from the screeching frogs, Astra and Bootstrap came upon a strange wooden sign post.

  “What does that say?” Astra pointed at the sign post.

  “It says something along the lines of ‘Frog the Jam.’ Jam?” Bootstrap questioned.

  “Wait, jam as in a musical jam session? Like this is the spot that the frogs come to hang out and play music?” Astra asked as he pointed to a clearing next to the sign.

  “I guess it does then.” Bootstrap shrugged. “I’ll admit, I’m not exactly fluent in the local dialect here,” Bootstrap confessed, scanning the strange carvings with a furrowed brow. “I can recognize enough of the script to piece together bits and pieces, but this” he gestured toward the markings, “is a mix of symbols I barely recognize and some that aren’t even based on letters I’ve ever seen.”

  He sighed, straightening up. “No point in lingering. If those frogs were some kind of alarm—and I’d wager they were—we’d best keep moving. I’d rather not meet whoever they’re summoning.”

  Not three steps later, a tree jumped out in front of them. “AHHH!” Screamed Astra. “I knew it! I knew the freaking trees were looking at me.”

  Bootstrap, unfazed by the surprised encounter, said to Astra, “Cultists… Be careful and stay close to me.”

  The cultist looked more menacing than a man in tree camouflage had any right to be. The cultist in front of them pointed wildly at them while pulling out what Astra assumed was a mud caked blade while three other cultists who were camouflaged as trees and one who was a log in the water surrounded them.

  “Uh, what are they saying?” Astra asked quietly.

  “They are saying ‘Hi, we are here to guide you to our resort,’” Bootstrap joked.

  “Oh, really now? With the way they are waving that blade around, I could have sworn they were robbing us,” Astra said exasperated at the situation.

  “Apologies,” Bootstrap said with a small, apologetic grin, his tone softening. “Just trying to lighten the mood a bit. But seriously, stay close. These swamps have a way of turning even the best intentions into bad ideas.” His eyes darted around the murky terrain, his usual calm edged with caution.

  “So, you understand them?” Astra asked.

  Tapping his forearm, Bootstrap gave a subtle nod, his tone steady despite the tension in the air. “Yes, I’ve got a translation rune on me. I’ll explain once we get out of here alive. Priorities first, survival second, and lectures, well, they can wait.”

  “Oh, interesting.” Astra replied.

  Bootstrap explained to them in a slow and nonthreatening manner that they were travelers and were just a bit lost. They meant no harm and had no valuables on them whatsoever. The cultists did not take that for an answer. With a word from the main cultist, the rest moved in unison with their blades poised to strike the both of them.

  Bootstrap made quick work of the main cultist catching the muddy knife and disarming him. Bootstrap knocked him out with a single precise punch to the chin and moved on to help Astra with the other four cultists. Astra was doing his best to keep distance when Bootstrap kicked the knife from two of the cultists hands and tripped the other two with a wide leg sweep. Astra could barely follow Bootstrap’s movements as he disarmed and dropped the cultists like a superhero in a comic come to life. He might have even been glowing as Astra was too awestruck to fully recall.

  “Woah, are you some kind of superhero?” Astra asked as Bootstrap squatted down to the main cultist.

  No sooner than the second after Astra uttered those word, Bootstrap knocked the main cultist out and rummaged through his pockets until he found a bag of coins.

  “Ah, a small donation for our troubles,” Bootstrap said as he counted the coins. “There are a diverse collection of coins here probably from other travelers. A couple of orichalcum coins. At least a few gold coins in the mix, which should serve us well once we’re back in civilization. Currency like this speaks to movement, trade… or perhaps desperation.” He pocketed the coins carefully. “Let’s hope these can buy more than just our next meal.”

  After walking away from the cultists who were still on the ground shocked as they process the fact that they did a reverse robbing, Astra and Bootstrap came upon a large, exceptionally foul smelling marsh pit.

  Astra coughed as the pungent smell reached his nose. Bootstrap wrinkled his nose as he surveyed the pit before them, the acrid stench rising like an invisible wall. “This place doesn’t sit right with me,” he muttered, his voice low and cautious. “You noticed those people back there, the swamp god cultists? Well, this… this reeks of their handiwork. A sacrificial pit, no doubt. The kind they toss corpses into as offerings to whatever god they’re groveling to. Lets get out-” Bootstrap said as he was interrupted by a sound of a couple of objects flying towards them.

  Before Astra could react, a dart flew out from somewhere in the thick of the swamp to land right on his neck. Bootstrap reacted to his in time but not quickly enough to protect Astra. “Oh, not again,” an annoyed Bootstrap whined.

  “Ugh, it was the trees again. I’m going to totally hate swamp trees after this…” Astra managed to murmur before his body went limp from the tranquilizer in the dart.

  The last thing that Astra remembered was he could hear the chanting of the swamp cultists from the darkness. The mud and murky water around him started to sway and move. Bootstrap tried to pick up Astra’s limp body, but a couple more darts were fired his way. Bootstrap rolled out of the way of the darts, but that put him further away from Astra. The mud around Astra was now picking him up and moving him towards the foul-smelling pit. Then, his vision went blank and he must have succumbed to whatever was in the dart.

  The next thing Astra knew, he woke up to Bootstrap injecting him with something in his shoulder. Astra slowly got his bearings back when Bootstrap stuffed some smelling salt near Astra’s nose. With a jolt, Astra woke up immediately noticing his surroundings were now a mess. There were trees knocked down, and plants hung upside down in places they shouldn’t.

  “W-what happened?” Astra asked as he looked at the destruction around him.

  “That was a shot of caffeine. No more time to explain. Can you stand?” Bootstrap asked as he helped Astra to his feet.

  That was when they both heard a loud screeching sound from below. Whatever the cultists were chanting about earlier probably worked because Astra had a feeling he needed to run, now.

  They both knew what was happening and instinctively started running. A loud, guttural gurgle interrupted Bootstrap mid sentence followed by a massive splash as something enormous rose from the swamp’s depths. As far as Astra could tell, the beast definitely screamed, “Get out of my swamp!” just now. Astra did his best to run but his legs where not fully there. They were still a bit wobbly. Astra looked back at the pit, eyes widened as a colossal, slimy creature covered in mud, algae, and unidentified brown slop slithered out of the water, its many eyes gleaming with malevolence. Astra’s legs turned into jelly just then.

  “Faster!” yelled Bootstrap.

  Astra did not need to be told twice. He dashed after Bootstrap, his heart pounding as the giant swamp monster let out a bone-rattling roar behind them. The cultists noticed too and were now frantically scrambling while some were shouting praises to the monster while others ran for their lives.

  They dodged low-hanging branches and splashed through shallow pools of murky water as the monster’s heavy footsteps shook the ground behind them indicating that it was closing in on them. Astra stumbled once or twice but managed to keep his footing. The monster was fast, but it was not adept at running over and through the obstacles in its way.

  Up ahead, an old, massive, twisted dead tree laid on the side of their path. Its dead roots tangled around other trees in the area. Bootstrap slid to a stop, grabbing Astra by the arm and pulling him into a hollow space beneath the tree’s roots. “Shh!” Bootstrap whispered, holding a finger to his lips.

  Astra held his breath, trying to stay as still as possible. His heart was racing, and despite the danger, he couldn’t help but feel a thrill. This was his first real adventure. His first time in a new world dodging monsters, avoiding cultists, and relying on someone else to get him out of trouble.

  One thought raced through his head. Oh gods, I am literally a part of a real comic adventure.

  The swamp monster with its many eyes and terrifying teeth was evidently really stupid. It was nothing more than a raging beast masquerading as an all-powerful god. After awhile, the swamp monster gave up chasing them and lumbered back to the pit and the cultists. Bootstrap let out a sigh of relief. “Ah, just another charming day in the devil’s armpits. I’m with you on this one, Astra. Swamps are miserable places.”

  Despite the near death experiences, the monster actually forced them to run through a large part of the swamp. They were close to the edge of the swamp. Maybe that was why the swamp monster stopped chasing them. Fortunately, they could see the swamp clearing up ahead.

  “Are all the worlds that we are going to going to be like this or are there going to be more civilized people like us?” Astra asked as they trudge through more swampy, mud road.

  “Well, civilized is a relative term, but yeah, there will be more humans like us. As a matter of fact, a large portion of the livable planets that form tend to have its ruling class as more human-like creatures than animal-like creatures. I guess it is nature’s way of saying that human-like evolution are the most efficient for world domination. Well, that and crabs. Lots of creatures converge into crabs.”Bootstrap grinned as they made it out of the swamp area.

  “Okay, well how about showers? I mean, do we have to find a town before we wash off or can we find a stream somewhere?” Astra asked.

  Bootstrap laughed. “Yeah, I know of showers,” Bootstrap replied, a hint of humor dancing in his tone. He reached into his weathered bag, pulling out what looked like an ornate watering can and a pair of gloves embroidered with runes. “These beauties? Picked them up ages ago from a master farmer. They handed them over after muttering something about ‘maxing out their farming level.’ No clue what they were on about, but hey, I wasn’t about to turn down magical gear.” He gestured toward a nearby cliffside, where a small stream trickled down like a natural shower. “Let’s head over there. These should help us wash off the swamp’s generous hospitality.”

  As they both took off their soiled tops, Astra noticed that Bootstrap had intricate tattoos drawn across his arms and all over his back. The tattoos seemed to wink at Astra as he admired them from the other side of the river under the cliff.

  I wonder what all the tattoos mean. No one gets that many tattoos without a good reason, right? Astra pondered.

  Walking up to Bootstrap, Astra pointed to one of the tattoo on Bootstraps right forearm. Astra asked with genuine curiosity in his voice, “What does that one mean?”

  Bootstrap tilted one eyebrow up and gave a wry smile. “This one, specifically, is the translation rune that I spoke about earlier.”

  “Ah, That’s right. That’s how you were able to understand the cultists, right?” Astra chimed in.

  “That’s correct, Astra. This rune is actually split up into a couple of small parts.” Pointing to each small characters on the tattoo, Bootstrap explained, “This first one is the wynn symbol which means joy and harmony or in this case connections and communications. This next one is the symbol for lagu which means fluidity. It there so that the magic can travel on sound waves. The next symbols represent the mind, mouth and heart. They are dagaz, beorc and jera respectively.”

  “Whoa, that’s so cool. So, those little lines are all words of some kind? What kind of language is that? Is it from a far away place that you have been to?” Astra asked with wide eyes.

  Bootstrap chuckled softly. “It is from a long forgotten language called ‘Old English.’ It is an ancient language from a planet called Earth in a funny little galaxy called the ‘Milky Way’ that has been lost to time. I doubt more than a handful of humans today know about this runic script.”

  Astra snickered. “No way there’s a galaxy out there called the ‘Milky Way. ’ That’s the worst name I could think of for a galaxy. Like, that’s more of a drink than anything.”

  Astra squinted and furrowed his brow at the translation tattoo again. “So, how come you know this ‘Old English’ if it is that rare? Does the magic require that language or something?”

  Bootstrap looked up to the sky for a bit, contemplating a good explanation. “Rune magic doesn’t inherently rely on any specific language,” Bootstrap explained, his tone calm and precise as he ran a finger over one of the symbols etched into his arm. “It can be written in any tongue, really. The reason I stick to this archaic language? Let’s just say I prefer to keep prying eyes guessing. If someone can’t decipher my runes, they can’t anticipate the spell I’m casting. And in a life-or-death situation, that little edge can make all the difference.”

  He paused, his gaze drifting momentarily, as if recalling an old memory. “My teacher was relentless about it,” he added with a shrug. “Drilled the importance of secrecy into my head. It’s not the most exciting explanation, I know.”

  His tone softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t overthink it, Astra. I promise I’ll give you the full rundown on magic when I’ve had a chance to put it all together in a way that actually makes sense. But first…” Bootstrap glanced around, scanning the horizon. “Let’s find somewhere decent to rest. I’m not exactly in the mood for giving lectures in the middle of a swamp.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s a promise then!” Astra smiled. “I’m sure there will be time for that later too.”

  Oh, wow. Maybe, I’ll get to cast some fancy magic now too. I wonder what I’ll be able to do. I want to fly or throw fireballs at people. Thought Astra as he grinned to himself.

  Finishing up their washing, Bootstrap fired up the gemstone again and off they went, the void opening and closing around them. The gravitational pull distorted all of Astra’s senses. Then, they appeared again in a dim place. The nausea and headache hit him again with a vengeance. The abrupt jolt from the jump was something Astra felt like he would never get used to. He sat down to rest for a bit.

  Eventually, he looked around to try to get his bearings straight. They were standing in what seemed like the remains of an old temple. The stone walls were crumbling, and there were vines and large plants growing out of the rubble. The air smelled of damp earth and musty swamp water. It was similar to the previous place they were just at but with a hint of civilization. The light was strong so they walked out of the temple to check their surroundings.

  Bootstrap steadied himself then turned to Astra. “Are you doing good?”

  Astra nodded though his legs felt shaky and his head was still spinning. “Umm yeah… I think so.”

  “Good,” Bootstrap said, already scanning their surroundings with a practiced eye. “We’ll rest here for a bit,” Bootstrap said, his voice steady as he gestured to a relatively dry patch of stones. His sharp gaze flicked to Astra, noting the boy’s unsteady stance. “Told you the jump would catch up with you eventually. It always does the first few times.”

  “Maybe, first hundreds of times…,” he mentioned softly.

  With that said, Astra sat down on the nearby rubble hoping that this headache would go away soon. As he opened his eyes to look around the ruined temple, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. This place felt ancient and surreal. Almost like it was a part of some ritual that went wrong a long, long time ago. Even in the dim light, he could make out symbols etched into the stone, remnants of an old world. There was definitely a strange beauty to it, a sense of history that piqued Astra’s interest. Astra couldn’t help but think about his home city. There were no more historical buildings in his old city due to the destruction of the ongoing war there. By comparison, the temple even though it was ruined, it was a different kind of ruined to Astra. It was ruined due to time and use not by war and violence.

  “This is incredible,” Astra said, his voice hushed. “Not just the jump, but the temple is cool too.”

  This was the start of a new adventure, one that could help him find that one place where he could belong.

  Bootstrap gave a small approving nod at Astra. “It’s one of many,” he said, his tone almost reverent. “This represents just a small taste of what we can jump into in this wide world. A small taste of the adventures to come. Just try not to think about that last swamp adventure.”

  Astra’s eyes widened at the prospect of more exotic places than this. Especially after the horrid swamp they just visited. He had spent his entire small life in a world that seemed insignificant and unkind, but now, standing here in this far off place, he felt a new sense of hope. He had a new sense of adventure that he had only ever dreamed of before.

  However, once again, he felt that same feeling like they are being watched. He glanced at Bootstrap, wondering if the old man could feel it too, but Bootstrap’s expression was unreadable.

  “Bootstrap,” Astra began cautiously, “do you ever feel like… we’re not alone, again?”

  Bootstrap paused, his gaze flicking around the ruined temple before returning to Astra. “Always,” he said quietly. “But you learn to live with it.”

  Astra nodded though the answer didn’t ease his nerves. There was some adventuring to be done so he pushed the fear aside focusing instead on the fact that he was no longer trapped in the life he had left behind.

  Once the post jump sickness subsided, they headed out the temple’s door.