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.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “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.