The sun sat low in the sky, and the cool mountain breeze made for a refreshing hike through the woods surrounding the monastery. Its isolated location on the mountain had proven to be a stroke of luck for Novak; it was far from any major population centers, making it unlikely that anyone would stumble upon his crash site—or so he hoped. Still, he knew that the longer he stayed here, the more he gambled with the lives of the Ryntai—the Nrac would be, at best, unforgiving if they found him here.

  Despite being separated from the rest of his team and the Firehawk's crew, Novak used his time here to begin reconnoitering the surrounding lands from a safe distance. He never had trouble finding a quiet spot while he did his work either; until the incident with Alistair earlier today, the monks had been content to let him come and go as he pleased.

  Tonight, Novak had taken an interest in the nearby city, called 'Tylondale' by the monks, as it had much to tell him of this world he had found himself stranded on. Tylondale looked like something from the Old World's Renaissance era; its architecture was primarily stone and wood, and its human denizens were clad in archaic garments made of cloths, silks, leathers, and furs.

  Of course, there was the obvious exception that Nrac technology was heavily integrated into the city's infrastructure. In particular, generators, electric street lamps, and water pumps stood out, but Novak was confident that more was hidden beneath the surface.

  From what Novak could see, the city lacked any human-controlled government or law enforcement. The Nrac had taken it upon themselves to establish and maintain their own brand of order, just as any other occupying force would. He recognized their trademark plasma weapons and powered armor, albeit stripped-down versions better suited for peacekeeping operations than an actual battlefield. Novak reminded himself.

  As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Novak sat down in the dirt near the edge of a cliff and pulled out his binoculars. He scanned the city below, taking a mental note of the various patrols and checkpoints set up along its streets, and kept an eye out for any VIPs or high-priority targets that might be worth striking at in a guerrilla raid.

  

  As Novak's mind picked up the presence of someone approaching from down the trail, his hand moved for the sidearm stashed within his robes. He relaxed again once he met the gaze of Celia, who had invited herself to join him, offering a wave and an awkward smile as she approached. "Oh, it's just you," Novak remarked. "What are you doing out here?"

  The girl shrugged. "I'm just out for a stroll," she replied. "I wanted to check on you, too. Make sure you weren't planning on throwing any more people around."

  Novak grunted in response, his attention returning to his observations of the town. Celia glanced over the edge of the cliff, then turned her head to Novak, who continued to scan the city streets through his binoculars. "So, what do you think of Tylondale?" she asked. "It's a nice little city, yeah?"

  Novak lowered his binoculars and turned his head toward the girl. "Look, I really don't like small talk," he said curtly. "Just... ask me whatever it is you came here to ask. You helped save my life, so I suppose I at least owe you some answers."

  "There's no need to be rude about it," Celia huffed as she took a seat beside him. "I wanted to check on you. You seemed a bit shaken after the fight, and that hit you took sounded pretty nasty."

  Novak rubbed the bruise on his cheek where he had been struck and tongued the fresh cut in his mouth. Everything still felt a bit tender, but he had reflexively absorbed most of the blow with his telekinetic abilities. "It wasn't as bad as it looked," he deflected. "You've seen me survive worse, anyway."

  Celia flashed a toothy smile. "Well, you're not wrong about that," she chuckled. "I am glad you're okay."

  "Your boyfriend there is kind of a shit, though."

  "He's not my boyfriend," Celia replied quickly. Her cheeks reddened slightly, and she turned her gaze to the ground. "Alistair's just... well, Alistair. He's always been a bit of an ass, but he's one of the good ones when it matters."

  Novak nodded slowly and looked away, not entirely convinced that he believed her. "If you say so," he muttered.

  Celia sighed and shook her head before turning her attention back to the city below. "Where'd you learn to fight like that, anyway?" she asked. "Alistair is one of our best students, and you just... toyed with him the whole fight."

  A stiff breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees, and Novak pulled his robe closer to shield himself from the evening chill. He wondered just how much he should actually reveal to this curious girl but decided that a little bit of the truth might not hurt. He knew these questions would continue as long as he lived under the monastery's roof anyway.

  "I'm a soldier," Novak replied after a long silence between them. "Where I'm from, we're separated into castes and trained from childhood to fulfill our assigned role in society. My old man was a soldier, so I was born into that caste."

  Celia leaned in closer with interest. "So your whole life is just... chosen for you?" she asked. "No freedom? No choice?"

  "There's some leeway within our castes," Novak shrugged. "But for the most part, yeah. We're bred for specific roles, and we're expected to fulfill those roles."

  "That sounds horrible," Celia replied.

  "To an outsider, sure," Novak admitted. "But it's the only life I've ever known, and as you've seen, I'm pretty damn good at it."

  Celia studied his face carefully before letting out a sigh and shaking her head. "I guess so," she agreed. "It's just... it hits a little close to home. I've been cooped up in this monastery with the ever-present threat of the Saviors looming over my head for nearly a decade. I'm grateful to have a safe place to stay, of course, but sometimes... I wish I could go live my own life. Maybe see the world. The Ryntai used to go on pilgrimages, you know, but not anymore. We have to stay put. Keep a low profile. Lest our 'benevolent overlords' come knocking."

  Novak raised an eyebrow at the mention of the 'Saviors'—an odd title that the locals had taken to calling the Nrac here. "So these 'saviors,' that's what you call the folks down there in the metal suits, right?" he asked. "And you've said they've been here for ten years?"

  The girl responded with a sad nod. "Mmhmm. I was just a child when they arrived," she told him. "I remember watching them appear in the sky over Cross one day. The whole city just... stopped. Everyone thought they were beautiful until they started blasting the hell out of everything. Then their soldiers, the men in the metal suits, came down and demanded our submission; anyone who fought back or resisted was killed on sight. They've been our conquerors ever since."

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Novak offered a solemn nod. Celia's description fit the Nrac's usual tactic of bombing a population center to demoralize and then sending in their ground troops to mop up resistance and hold territory. "I... I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said. "For what it's worth, I've been on the receiving end of it too."

  Celia shrugged. "It is what it is," she said, forcing a smile. "I've done my best to make peace with it. As much as I complain, I do have a good life here. Sometimes I just... I wish I could change things, you know?"

  "Yeah," Novak agreed.

  The pair sat quietly, watching the last rays of sunlight fade over the horizon as the city below them began to glow with artificial lights. Novak wondered how many people down there had lost loved ones to the Nrac much in the same way he had. How many of them still held out hope for liberation after ten years of occupation?

  The silence between them was broken when Celia suddenly spoke up once more. "Can I... can I talk to you about something really strange?"

  "What is it?" Novak asked, turning to face her.

  Celia shifted uncomfortably where she sat and chewed on her lip nervously. "I... I've been having these reoccurring dreams for the past several months," she began slowly. "Dreams about... you, I think."

  Novak blinked. "What."

  The girl gestured with her hands in a flustered manner. "It's nothing improper!" she quickly clarified. "But I... I was hoping you could help me make sense of them?"

  With a slow breath, Novak nodded. "Alright," he replied cautiously. "Tell me about these dreams."

  Well..." Celia began hesitantly. "It starts with you and another soldier in some faraway place. You're both wearing your armor and weapons, walking through a jungle, but you're bored and unhappy. Then you go to meet a woman—someone special to you, I think. But something happens, and you're summoned to battle with the invading army of the Saviors."

  Novak clenched his fists as his heart began to race within his chest. Elysium. The worst day of his life. And this girl he had known for mere days had been dreaming about it.

  Celia continued on, oblivious to Novak's growing discomfort. "You say goodbye to the woman, and then you pile into a flying machine with several other soldiers," she said. "You're dropped onto the battlefield, and it's utter chaos." The girl's eyes began to fill with tears as she pressed on. "The Saviors are marching toward your defenses. You're terrified, like everyone else, but you fight. People are dying around you, screaming in agony, but you fight. And just when everything seems hopeless, you—"

  "Enough," Novak snapped. "That's enough. Please."

  He stood up and paced back and forth, rubbing his face with one hand as he tried to collect himself. Celia watched him with growing concern. "Are you alright?" she asked gently. "I'm sorry. I—I didn't mean to upset you."

  "I'm okay," Novak replied tersely as he struggled to regain control of his breathing. "It's nothing you did. It's just... I've lived this. And some nights, I'm still living it."

  "So this is real? This happened to you?" Celia asked, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her face. "You went through this horrible, horrible thing, and I've been watching it happen to you over and over again for months?"

  Novak nodded slowly. "Yeah," he replied somberly. "That's right."

  "By the Maker," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea that there was anyone actually still trying to fight them. I thought everyone had given up. Why didn't I know about this?"

  "We haven't been fighting them on your planet," Novak explained. "I come from another world."

  The girl's eyes widened in surprise. "Another world?" she echoed. "You know, that sounds completely ridiculous, but... I think it actually explains a lot about you."

  "Look, I know it sounds crazy," Novak admitted, "but the Nrac—or Saviors, or whatever you call them—they invaded us about five years ago. They hit us just as hard as they hit you, but we gave them hell and were able to push them back."

  "You defeated them?" Celia asked in disbelief.

  "We forced a retreat," Novak corrected. "But now I'm thinking your world is where they ran back to. Maybe even used it as a staging ground for their attack."

  Celia furrowed her brows thoughtfully before shaking her head. "I... I'm not sure how to process all of this," she admitted. "It's a lot to take in, and honestly, I'm not sure I even understand half of it. But it's nice to know the Saviors aren't invincible."

  Novak offered a faint smile. "No," he agreed. "Take away all that fancy tech of theirs, and they bleed just like we do. Well, their blood is blue, but still."

  "So, you're actually from another world?" Celia inquired, still in awe of the revelation. "How'd you end up here, then?"

  "That's a long, complicated story, and I really shouldn't be telling you about it," Novak replied. "But the short version is that there was an accident, and I ended up stranded here. Now, I'm just trying to figure out a way back home."

  The girl nodded, her expression solemn. "I see," she said quietly. "I'm sorry that happened to you. Do you have a plan, at least?"

  Novak gave a noncommittal shrug. "Not really," he admitted, "but I need to find the rest of my team once I'm in shape to travel. I'll figure it out from there."

  "So you'll be leaving soon, then?"

  "As soon as I'm able," Novak answered. "Maybe another day or two."

  "Oh. Okay," Celia said, her tone wistful. "It's been... interesting having you around, I think."

  "I'm sure," Novak chuckled. "Look, thank you for everything you've done for me. You really helped turn my luck around, and I'm not sure I can ever repay you."

  The girl contemplated for a moment as she raised a hand and began nervously massaging the back of her neck. "Well... there is something you could do for me before you leave."

  Novak raised an eyebrow and gave the girl an expectant look. "What's that?"

  Celia hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "I'd like a sparring match with you," she replied. "You know, to see where I am in my own training and all that."

  "You want me to fight you?" Novak asked, incredulous. "Like with your pal Alistair there?"

  The girl nodded. "Yeah, something like that," she replied. "I mean, I promise I won't get mad and try to break a staff over your face."

  Novak chuckled and shook his head. "I'm really not sure that's a great idea," he said. "I'm probably on your headmaster's shit list already."

  "I'm not worried. You know what you're doing," Celia insisted. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be gentle with me."

  A laugh escaped Novak's lips before he could hold it back, and he shook his head again. "Are you sure you're just asking for a fight?" he teased. "Because it sounds like you want something else."

  Celia's face reddened as her eyes went wide with embarrassment. "What? No! I didn't mean it like that!" she stammered out quickly. "I... want to see how I stack up against someone who really knows what they're doing."

  "Okay, okay," Novak replied with a chuckle as he raised his hands defensively. "I'm just being an ass. But sure, I suppose I can make time for a quick sparring match."

  The girl offered an enthusiastic nod and grinned. "Tomorrow afternoon, then?" she asked. "I'm free from training and chores at about three."

  "Sure thing," Novak agreed. "I'll swing by the training yard around then."

  "Great! I'm looking forward to it," Celia beamed. She then stood and brushed herself off before turning to leave. "I should probably be getting back now, though. It's getting kind of late. Have a good night, Mr. Novak."

  "Just 'Jan' is fine," he corrected her. "And you have a good night, too, Celia."

  Celia gave him one last smile and waved goodbye before turning and disappearing down the trail toward the monastery. Novak watched her go for a moment before returning his attention to the city below. He stared out over Tylondale as its streets began to fill with people returning home from work, and its taverns and inns came to life with activity.

  Novak sighed heavily as he contemplated what had happened between himself and the girl. Her dreams of him, while strange, could easily be some latent psychic ability of the girl that manifested as a type of dreamwalking or even some side effect of his own psychic awakening.

  What bothered him more than anything was that the people of this world had been living under the Nrac's boot for a decade. Ten years of fear, oppression, and suffering. And the worst part was that there was little he could do to help them. He felt for these people and their plight, but as powerful as a Vindicator was, he was still only one man.

  His priority for now was returning home and reporting to his superiors about the Nrac presence here. With any luck, they'd send an invasion force to stamp out the threat before it could grow again and threaten the Sovereignty. he thought.

  The sun finally set below the horizon, and Novak rose to his feet. He brushed the dirt from his robes and began making his way back toward the monastery. Walking down the mountain trail, he wondered what tomorrow might bring—and why he had agreed to spar with Celia.