The first thing I noticed was the impossibly blue sky. The clouds were floating gently by, with the birds chirping as they sat on the branches of the tree, underneath which I stood. The air also felt different with a startling freshness. I could smell it. The grass was bright green same as the leaves on the tree. It was as if someone had dialed the colors up a notch.
Spreading my arms I took a deep breath filling up my lungs as much as possible. The amount of greenery made my surroundings look like a picture.
There was no mistaking it, I was in an another world.
Amidst my survey I noticed a road or rather a pathway of sorts.
"Before heading out, Inventory check."
I glanced down at myself. Gone were the jeans and T-shirt from my old world. Instead, I wore a simple but durable-looking outfit: a light brown tunic, darker pants, and a faded green cloak on my shoulders. There was even a leather satchel slung at my side.
"Nice," I muttered. "God really thought of everything. Hmm, I should be careful in such matters from now on."
Right now, there were no monsters leaping out of the bushes yet. No angry villagers demanding to know why a stranger had materialized near their town square. For now everything was good.
"Alright, Ishant," I said aloud. "Step one: get to civilization. Step two: find food. Step three: don't die."
The basics.
I rummaged through the satchel. Inside, I found a few essentials: a waterskin, some dried rations, a modest pouch of coins that clinked pleasantly when I shook it, a small knife, a basic map drawn on thick parchment, and—most curiously—a leatherbound notebook. Flipping through it revealed sketches of plants, notes about herbs and their uses, and even a few crude illustrations of basic healing techniques which I deciphered to be first aid. All of it looked very authentic though there was a bit of a problem. I was unable to read the text. The same went for the map, I could understand the pictures on it but nothing more, names, directions and such was beyond me. This is going to be a challenge.
Well, lets head towards the path, meanwhile I might figure out some use of this map except as fuel for fire.
********
'It might be a road after all.' I concluded. 'Also, are these tire tracks?'
They were a bit too thin for any tires one would mostly find in cities. 'Cart tracks, maybe?' I mused, crouching down for a closer look. The impressions were uneven but distinct, as if wooden wheels had passed over the dirt many times. Definitely not modern vehicles. Just good old-fashioned transport. Comforting in a weird way. 'And the chances of a city being nearby has skyrocketed.'
After diligently cross-referencing the map a few times I was make out my general location. Thankfully the sun wasn't overhead and had begun on its way towards setting, so that would be west for now. The map featured a forest but there was none in my vicinity.
'Should I climb a tree and check it out? That could work though I have never climbed one back home. But with some luck it might be possible.' I psyched myself up with such thoughts and went back to the previous tree. The lowest branch was a little higher than I would've liked, but the bark looked rough enough to provide some grip. I placed my cloak and satchel near the base and began climbing.
"Alright... easy does it..." I muttered under my breath.
It wasn't exactly graceful. I slipped twice, scraped my palms, and hugged the tree like it owed me money. But fortune, as promised, smiled on me. My foot found a small knot just when I thought I'd lose my grip, and soon enough, I pulled myself up onto a sturdy branch.
Surprisingly, I was not out breath even after such an endeavor. Looks like the tune up God came handy very early.
Perched among the branches, I took a moment to steady myself and look around.
The view was worth the scrapes.
In the distance, beyond gently rolling hills, I spotted a dark smear along the horizon—the unmistakable dense green of a forest. It wasn't too far, maybe a couple of hours' walk if I was being optimistic. Between me and the forest lay the winding road, cutting through meadows that seemed almost too idyllic to be real. Then I spotted something moving on the road, it was approaching me steadily. It was a horse-driven carriage.
'That explained the tire marks. Lets see if I can ask for either a lift or directions for the nearest town. Either works but I would prefer a lift.' While entertaining such thoughts I climbed down the tree, dusted myself, wore my satchel and cloak and lightly combed my hairs with my hands attempting to appear as civilized as a wandering traveler could be. After all, first impression is the last impression.
I waited patiently the edge of the road, making sure not to seem threatening. I kept my hands visible, my posture relaxed. Better to look like a lost traveler than a bandit.
The carriage approached at a leisurely pace, the horses' hooves kicking up small clouds of dust. As it came closer, I could make out more details: the while modest looked fairly ornated. A small time noble or a wealthy merchant. Astonishingly there were no guards accompanying.
'Is the locality that safe?' The carriage closed in as I entertained such thoughts. And from the looks of it the driver; a middle-aged man with a wide-brimmed hat and a thick beard, looked wary but not hostile. A good start.
When he spotted me, he gave the reins a gentle tug, slowing the horses to a near stop.
"Ho there, traveler!" he called out, his voice carrying easily over the quiet road. "Lost, are you?"
"Something like that," I answered with a sheepish smile, raising one hand in greeting. "I'm new to these parts and could use some directions. If it's not too much trouble."
The man squinted at me, sizing me up. His eyes lingered on me. After a tense moment, his face cracked into a slight smile.
"New, huh? You've got that look about you," he chuckled. "Well, no harm in giving a helping hand. Where you headed?"
"Nearest town, if possible," I said. "Maybe find some work, a place to stay."
The man nodded thoughtfully. "You're in luck. I'm headed to Reflet Town, just half a day's ride from here. You can walk it, sure, but I've got room if you don't mind riding with the goods."
My heart lifted at the offer. "I'd be grateful," I said with a small bow. "Name's Ishant, by the way."
"Call me Berg," the driver said, tipping his hat. "Hop on, Ishant. But mind the crates."
"Understood," I replied, making my way to the back.
I climbed aboard and settled among crates tied securely with rope. Some were stamped with odd symbols—a logo perhaps, I guessed. As the wagon lurched into motion, I leaned back, letting the steady rhythm of the road and the creak of the wheels lull me into a cautious calm. This was good.
A ride to town, a driver who seemed decent enough, and a chance to gather more information. It seems luck was on my side. Heh.
I pulled out the notebook from my satchel again. Even if I couldn't read the text, the sketches could still be useful. I spent the ride flipping through the pages, committing drawings of plants and herbs to memory. Fortune favored the prepared, after all.
As i was flipping through the pages, Berg struck up casual conversation.
"So, Ishant," he asked, flicking the reins gently, "where you from? Don't think I've heard your accent around these parts."
"Far away," I said truthfully enough. "Circumstances brought me here. I'm looking to start fresh."
He nodded slowly, as if he understood more than I was saying. Maybe in this world, a lot of people had reasons to start over.
"Well," Berg said, "Reflet's a good town for that. Quiet, honest folk." He said.
"Quiet and honest, the welcoming kind?" I asked putting the notebook back in the satchel.
Berg chuckled. "Depends who you ask. Most folks are decent. Don't poke too much, and you won't get poked back."
I nodded, taking the hint.
"Fair enough," I said, leaning back against a crate.
The road wound on, the scenery slowly changing. The wide meadows gave way to gentle slopes, patches of forest becoming more frequent. Every so often, we passed a signpost—simple wooden boards, painted with writing I couldn't read but Berg seemed to understand instinctively, barely even glancing at them.
We rode mostly in silence after that, the rhythm of the wagon and the creaking of the wheels filling the air. I didn't mind. It gave me time to think.
Plans. I needed plans.
First, a place to stay. Hopefully Reflet Town had an inn or a cheap lodging house. And while I am at it lets check my coins pouch. Inside were a handful of coins, I counted eight brown, ten silver and one gold coin. If the silver and gold ones are real then the brown ones would made of bronze. Decent.
Second, work. It would be naïve to think my "great fortune" meant I could laze around. Fortune might open doors, but it was still up to me to walk through them.
And third… magic.
Light magic, God had said or rather implied. I had an affinity for light magic.
But if I just wandered into a town shouting about magic, I might end up in trouble. No, better to feel things out quietly. Learn how this world worked before diving in headfirst. Now, that's sounds like a good start.
*******
As we crested a gentle hill, a town finally came into view.
Reflet Town wasn't large by any means, but it was bustling with life even from a distance. Wooden and stone buildings huddled together, smoke drifting lazily from chimneys. Surrounding it was a modest stone wall—not too high, but sturdy enough to deter wild beasts or opportunistic bandits. At the town's entrance, a pair of guards lounged with spears in hand, chatting idly. They looked more bored than vigilant.
Berg slowed the wagon as we approached the gates.
"Let me do the talking," he said casually over his shoulder. "You're with me, so they won't give you trouble."
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral and my hands visible, just in case.
As expected, the guards barely spared me a second glance once Berg waved and exchanged a few easy words. Within minutes, we were inside.
The streets were lively with vendors calling out from market stalls, kids darting between carts, and townsfolk going about their evening routines. Horses clopped past, and somewhere a blacksmith's hammer rang out a steady rhythm. The smell of baked bread and roasting meat filled the air, and for a moment, I just drank it all in.
It really hit me then.
I wasn't just visiting.
I lived here now.
"Alright, this is where we part ways," Berg said, pulling the wagon to a stop near a small square. "Head down that street"—he pointed—"and you'll find the Silver Moon Inn. Good place, fair prices. Tell 'em Berg sent you, and old Martha might knock a copper off your bill."
I hopped down carefully, giving Berg a grateful smile. "Thank you. Really."
He tipped his hat again. "Stay sharp, Ishant. And good luck."
I watched Berg's wagon rumble away down the cobbled street before turning to face the town properly.
Reflet Town.
My new beginning.
I took a slow breath, letting the sounds of Reflet Town wash over me. It wasn't a big place, but it had a calm, welcoming rhythm—no frantic city pace, just steady, honest life.
The first step was simple: follow the street Berg had pointed out. The Silver Moon Inn wasn't far, just a short walk along cobbled roads. Its old, sturdy frame stood beneath a gently swaying sign, and the scent of roasted meat made it impossible to miss.
'Lucky me, I am in time for lunch.' My feet lead my on towards the inn as I observed and took in all the sights of the town.
I stood in front of the building, the logo had a crescent moon design. Fairly standard, all things considered. The building, which was made of brick and wood, looked like it stood three stories tall. It certainly seemed sturdy enough, at any rate.
I passed through the double-leaf doors. The room inside resembled a bar or dining hall with a large counter on the right. To the left, there were stairs leading upward.
"Welcome. Are you here for a meal, or is it a room you want?" The lady behind the counter called out to me. Her red hair was tied up in a ponytail and she looked quite lively. A woman in her early 20s, or so I guessed.
"Is Martha here?" I asked.
The young woman behind the counter tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in thought as she tried to place the name. After a beat, she nodded.
"Martha? Aye, that'd be my aunt. Runs the place. She's in the back right now—probably wrestling the oven into submission again." The woman chuckled. "Why do you ask?"
"Berg sent me," I said, offering a small, hopefully charming smile. "Said I might get lucky and save a copper."
Her face lit up with recognition. "Berg, huh? Wagon driver with the stubborn mule and the louder laugh?" She grinned. "That man's hauled more drunks and lost souls into this town than I care to count."
She turned and called over her shoulder. "Auntie! There's a stray pup here claiming you owe him a discount!"
There was a muffled clatter from the back, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone swearing at an inanimate object—probably the oven, judging by the earlier comment. A few moments later, an older woman with a dusting of flour in her greying hair emerged, drying her hands with the tired resignation of someone used to doing five things at once.
She looked me over with a squint that felt like it could peel bark off a tree. "You're with Berg?"
I nodded. "Dropped me off just a few minutes ago. Said you might, uh, shave a copper off the bill."
She sniffed, unimpressed. "Of course he did. That lazy oaf sends more people begging for discounts than I serve drinks." But then, with the ghost of a smile tugging at her mouth, she added, "Fine. You can have the 'Berg Bargain.' Don't go telling the whole town, though."
"I'll keep it quiet," I said, as sincerely as one can when they're desperately craving lunch and a bed.
"If you book a whole week the room's two coppers less for you," she said. "You want food first, or a place to toss your pack?"
"Food," I said without hesitation. "I've been traveling since dawn. I think my stomach's ready to declare mutiny."
Martha smirked and waved a hand toward the tables. "Sit wherever. I'll have something hot brought out. You're in luck—it's stew today. Meat, potatoes, and secrets."
"Secrets?" I asked, raising a brow as I found a seat near the window.
She just winked. "You'll see."
And just like that, I felt the first real sliver of comfort since stepping into Reflet Town. A warm meal, a decent roof, and a few secrets served in a bowl. Not a bad start.
"Okay, then. If you could just sign here, please." As Martha went in her niece came back with a register at hand.
'Ah! Looks like my inability to read and write is going to pose unnecessary problems to my daily life unless solved.' My smile cramped awkwardly as I looked at the register. 'Should I come clean? This is a small town and i am sure this problem of mine is not vanishing any time soon. What to do?'
As I stared at the register, an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. I hadn't yet figured out how to explain my lack of reading skills without drawing unnecessary attention to myself. My entire situation was already a bit precarious, and revealing too much too soon might make things complicated.
But I couldn't just sit there and pretend to understand. The situation was too straightforward, and there was a certain honesty in acknowledging a simple problem before it became an obstacle.
"Actually..." I began, testing my words carefully. "There's something I should mention."
She looked at me with a quizzical but patient expression, waiting for me to continue.
"I... I'm afraid I can't read the register," I confessed, my voice quieter than I intended. "Not yet, anyway. It's a bit of a long story, but I'm new to the area and still getting my bearings. Is there another way we can handle this?"
I gave her a sheepish smile, trying not to seem too embarrassed. The whole situation felt a little ridiculous, but I had to play the cards I was dealt.
Her eyes softened, and her expression relaxed. "Well, that's no problem at all," she said with an understanding nod. "We get travelers from all kinds of backgrounds, and you're not the first to have trouble with reading. I'll tell you what—" She paused for a moment, considering her next words. "How about you just give me your name and a description, and I'll take care of the rest?"
I blinked, a bit surprised by how easy she was making this. "Are you sure?"
"Of course," she replied with a friendly smile. "We're a small town, and we look out for each other. Don't worry about it."
I hesitated for a moment, still feeling the weight of my unusual situation, but then I nodded gratefully. "Alright. My name's Ishant. I'm, well, a bit new around here."
"Got that part," she said with a wink. "Anything else? Physical description? Preferred room type?"
I described myself briefly—tall, dark hair, and an average build. I added that I didn't mind a modest room.
"Alright, Ishant," She said, jotting down my details quickly. "I'll have your room ready in a bit."
"Thanks for that." With that she went upstairs while I settled in a cozy corner of the hall in my seat.
It wasn't long before Martha returned with a tray of steaming food—a thick stew, fresh bread, and a mug of what smelled like warm cider.
"Here you go, a little something to fill your stomach," she said with a smile, setting the tray down in front of me.
"Thank you," I said, feeling a genuine sense of gratitude.
She nodded, turning to leave. "I'll be around if you need anything."
I dug in, savoring each bite. The stew was rich and hearty, the meat tender, the vegetables perfectly cooked. Warm, fresh bread and spiced cider rounded it out—a meal that felt like home, even if I wasn't sure where that was anymore.
As I ate, my thoughts wandered. I'd landed on my feet: safe town, hot food, a place to sleep. Not bad, considering. But the world around me was still a mystery.
Magic. Monsters. A language I barely grasped. Everything felt like a puzzle with too many missing pieces. And while luck had gotten me this far, I knew it wouldn't carry me forever.
I set my spoon down, tapping the table in thought.
"First things first," I muttered to myself. "I need to learn to read and write. Everything else can wait until I can understand what's going on around me."
After finishing my meal, I went upstairs to the room Micah had assigned me. It was modest, but cozy. A simple bed with a thick blanket, a wooden dresser, and a small table with a chair. It wasn't much, but it was more than I had expected, and I felt a sense of gratitude that I hadn't been thrown into a barn or worse.
I sat on the bed, pulling the notebook back out and staring at the unfamiliar text.
"This is going to take some time," I muttered to myself. "and a willing teacher."
But I had time. Plenty of it. And with some luck, a teacher waiting around the corner. For now, though, I would take what I could. Rest. Setting aside the notebook I stretched out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the sounds of the town continued to echo from below.
'I'll tour the town in the evening.'
********
"I must have slept for quiet some while if the sun is this low." I muttered. I could see from the window the orange glow of the setting sun painting the town in soft hues, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. The air outside looked still and calm, but it carried with it the promise of a cool evening breeze. I stretched, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. The bed had been comfortable enough, though the unfamiliarity of the place still left me a little restless. Yet, despite the strangeness of this world, I felt... safe. For now.
I glanced at the notebook resting on the table beside the bed. It was easy to forget about it in the haze of the last few hours, but now, in the quiet of the evening, the weight of the task ahead pressed on me again. Learning the language—reading, writing, understanding—would be my first true challenge.
"But before that a tour of the town sounds nice." I got ready in my tunic and pants as for the coat and satchel, I leave them here for now. "Oh, the money pouch."
My preparations done I left the room and headed downstairs. The stairs creaked beneath my weight as I descended, the soft murmur of voices below growing louder with each step. The inn had a cozy, welcoming atmosphere. A low fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the wooden walls. A few patrons sat at tables, chatting and laughing, the clinking of mugs punctuating their conversations.
I stepped into the common room, taking in the scene. A middle-aged man with a well-worn apron behind the bar greeted me with a nod. His eyes were sharp, he gave off the sense of someone who had seen many faces come and go.
"Good evening," he said with a slight smile. "How can I assist you this fine evening?"
"Just looking to tour the town," I replied, returning his smile. "I'd like to explore a little, get my bearings."
He chuckled softly, wiping down the counter with a cloth. "Ah, yes. It's easy to lose track of time here. The town's not large, but there's a lot to see. You might want to start with the square. It's where most of the activity is—shops, markets, people coming and going. If you're looking for something a bit quieter, go south that's where the fields are. Lovely view from there too."
"Sounds good," I said. "I'll start with the square, then."
"Enjoy your walk and don't be out too late," he warned, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness.
"I see." I gave the innkeeper a half-smile, and made my way out into the evening air. The cool breeze greeted me, brushing against my skin and carrying the faint scents of wood and earth. The cobblestone streets stretched out in front of me, winding through the town like veins in the heart of this new world.
The sun was dipping lower, casting long shadows that made the town feel as though it was suspended between day and night. The buildings here were mostly low, sturdy affairs—many with wooden beams and stone foundations that spoke of long histories. Some had colorful shutters and flower boxes on the windows, lending a quaint charm to the otherwise practical architecture.
I walked at a leisurely pace, letting my feet take me where they would, my eyes scanning the streets. People bustled here and there, some stopping to chat with each other, others carrying baskets or small parcels. I was struck by the peacefulness of it all, the absence of the hurried, constant noise and city life I was used to from my old life.
As I approached the square, the sounds grew more distinct: the clattering of carts, the low murmur of conversation, the occasional laugh or shout. I stepped into the square itself, a large open space surrounded by buildings with signs hanging over their doorways. It was here that the life of the town seemed to gather. Shops lined one side, their wares on display: baskets of fruits, stacks of wooden goods, fabrics draped over poles in an array of colors. The stalls and shops were modest but inviting, their owners calling out to passersby with friendly greetings. Children ran between the adults, playing games or laughing as they dodged their way through the crowds.
I walked past a baker's stall where the warm smell of fresh bread wafted toward me. It made my stomach rumble, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since my arrival. The innkeeper had mentioned a square full of life, but I didn't realize just how much life it held. It was a far cry from the bustling streets I knew, yet it felt more alive, more present in its simplicity.
As I wandered, I found myself near a small fountain in the center of the square. Its stone basin was worn, but it still held a trickling stream of water, providing a soft, rhythmic sound to accompany the scene. There were a few people sitting nearby on stone benches, enjoying the coolness of the evening. One elderly man sat with his back against the fountain, his pipe glowing faintly in the dimming light as he stared out toward the horizon.
I approached a merchant's stall, where a woman was selling what looked like hand-carved trinkets and jewelry. She smiled warmly as I came closer.
"Good evening, sir," she greeted, her voice light and friendly. "Looking for a little souvenir or something special?"
I considered her offer for a moment, running my fingers over the smooth wood of the small figurines she had on display. "Just looking around for now. I'm still getting familiar with the town."
"Well, take your time," she said with a wink. "There's plenty to see here, though I'd recommend getting to know the people first. They'll help you with whatever you need, and you'll find yourself at home before you know it."
"Appreciate the advice." Retuning her trinkets back, I took my leave to explore other stalls. A few sold earthen wares, others clothing then there were few vegetable and fruit vendors there even was a bookstore in another alley a bit away from the square. I checked the place out but alas it was fruitless. Nonetheless I bought some stationary including a flat board, two stacks of paper - yes paper not parchment, two bottles of ink and a few feather pens. As I stepped out of the bookstore, the bag of stationery tucked under my arm, I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of satisfaction and mild frustration. The paper, though not exactly what I had hoped for, was an essential start. And the pens or rather quills... Well, I wasn't sure if they would be able to write in the same way as a ballpoint pen I was used to, but it was a start.
The evening had deepened further, the last rays of sunlight fading into twilight. The square had emptied somewhat, the lively chatter of the day now replaced by a quieter, more peaceful atmosphere. People still milled about, but it was now mostly those finishing their business, closing their stores or heading home. A few lanterns had been lit along the streets, casting warm pools of light on the cobblestones.
I decided to make my way back to the inn before it got too late. The path back was quiet, the occasional footstep echoing in the silence.
"Did you like the town?" the bartender from before asked from his station. I gave him a small, reassuring smile, brushing off any visible signs of unease. "Yeah, just got a bit caught up exploring," I replied casually. He gave me an appraising look, and then cracked a smile. "Good to hear."
The common room was much quieter now. The laughter and chatter that had filled the air earlier had subdued, leaving behind only the crackling of the fire and the faint murmur of low conversations from a few remaining patrons. I made my way towards my room where I deposited my things, washed myself and returned downstairs.
"Ready for dinner?" The young lady from before approached me with a tray full of new and unused dishes. Now, that I think about it I didn't know her name. in the afternoon Martha had handled my business so I never got an opportunity.
"Yes. My name is Ishant by the way." I introduced myself.
The young lady gave a warm, genuine smile as I introduced myself, her eyes brightening slightly. "Ishant, nice to meet you," she said, her voice soft but clear. "I'm Micah. I'm usually the one handling dinner service around here. Hope you've settled in well."
"Yeah, I'm starting to get the hang of things," I replied, feeling the unease of the day start to ease away. Micah set the tray down on the table beside me, revealing a hearty meal—steamed vegetables, a slice of roasted meat, and a freshly baked roll that still emitted steam. I sat down at the table, the warmth of the meal a welcome contrast to the cool air that had settled outside. The tray was simple but satisfying. The roasted meat was tender, the vegetables nicely cooked, and the roll, soft and warm, practically melted in my mouth. As I took my first bite, I couldn't help but marvel at how much more peaceful this world felt compared to everything I had known before.
Micah watched me for a moment, a curious glint in her eyes as if waiting for my reaction. When she saw me smile, she seemed to relax a bit. "Glad you like it," she said, her voice light. "We try to keep the meals simple here, but they're always made with care."
"Definitely tastes like it," I replied, savoring another bite. "This place has a kind of charm to it."
Her smile widened, and she pulled up a chair across from me, her eyes still bright with interest. "You've only just arrived, but I can tell you'll fit right in. Most people who come through here don't stay long, but you seem different—like you're actually taking the time to see the town."
"Well, I have no grand plans for the time being and I obviously need to learn how to read and write. So, yeah I'll be hear for a while."
Micah nodded, her expression thoughtful as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms loosely. "It's not often we get someone who's keen to stay and learn," she said, her voice soft. "Most of the travelers are just passing through, always on the move. But if you're planning to stay a while, you're in luck. The townspeople are a friendly bunch, and they'll help you with whatever you need. As for the reading and writing..."
"MICAH!" Martha's voice tore through our conversation. Micah jumped slightly, her braided leather bracelet twisting faster between her fingers.
"Sorry, Ishant, duty calls!" she said with a quick grin, already halfway to the kitchen. "We'll talk later, promise!"
I waved her off, and focused on my dinner. Not wanting such delicious meal to get cold I redoubled my efforts.
I leaned back, savoring the last bite of the warm roll. The inn's common room hummed with quiet life—locals murmuring over mugs, the hearth crackling, the bartender polishing the counter in slow, rhythmic circles like it was a ritual. Learning to read was priority one, but finding a teacher in a town this small? That'd take some luck.
As I considered my circumstances the double-leaf doors swung open, and a gust of cool evening air swept in. Micah reappeared, but she wasn't alone. Two girls trailed her, it felt like they'd walked through tougher places than Reflet Town's cobbled streets. Twins, by the look of them—silver hair, green eyes, mid-teens—but they couldn't be more different.
The first wore a green skirt with a neat bow, her neck-length silver hair tied with a purple-and-white ribbon. A turquoise necktie, clipped with a charm, hung at her throat. Her purple shirt and white tights were pristine, her knee-high boots clicking softly on the wooden floor. She had a small book in her hands, her eyes scanning the room cautiously. Reserved, maybe even shy, but there was a sharpness in her gaze that said she didn't miss much.
The second had waist-long silver hair, two bunches tied in "sleeves" near her face, swaying as she moved. Her green culotte shorts matched her sister's bow, and her purple shirt mirrored the same white-center design. Long white gloves stretched past her elbows, and her purple boots, with white socks peeking out, thumped with confidence. Her turquoise necktie bore a clip, glinting as she tossed her head. She carried herself like she owned the room, a smirk playing on her lips as she nudged her sister's shoulder.
"Table for two, Micah!" the bolder one called, her voice bright and unapologetic. "And make it quick, we're starving!"
Micah laughed, unfazed. "Patience, Elze. The inn's not burning down." She glanced around, her eyes landing on my half-empty table. "Also many tables are not ready to use at the moment, you'll have to share with Ishant here? He's new, harmless."
The shy one's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing faintly, but the bold one—Elze, apparently—just grinned wider. "Harmless, huh? We'll see about that. C'mon, Linze, let's eat."
"Sure make yourselves home." I replied putting down my water tumbler and cleaning up my utensils.
The twins settled across from me, Elze leaned back, arms crossed, her gloves creaking softly. Linze sat primly, her book now on the table, her fingers tracing its spine nervously.
"I'm Ishant," I offered, breaking the ice. "Just got to Reflet today."
"Elze Silhoueska," the bold one said, her green eyes sizing me up like I was a puzzle. "And this is my sister, Linze. We're passing through. Doing some work."
I chuckled, scratching my neck. "Nothing that exciting. Just… starting fresh. Trying to figure this place out." I hesitated. Might as well test the waters. "Also, kind of stuck here. Can't read the local script yet. Makes things tricky."
Linze's head snapped up, her shyness giving way to interest. "You can't read it? At all?" Her voice was gentle.
"Nope," I admitted, "Conversation's just fine—but both reading and writing? Total mystery."
Elze snorted, leaning forward. "What, you from some far-off land where they write in scribbles? That's rough." Her tone was teasing, but her eyes softened a fraction. "Bet you're tripping over every signpost."
"Pretty much," I said, grinning despite myself. Her bluntness was oddly refreshing. "I'm hoping to find someone to teach me. Fast, preferably, before I sign my life away on a bad contract."
Linze bit her lip, glancing at her sister, then back at me. "I… I could help," she said, almost a whisper. "I mean, if you're staying in town. I'm good with books, and scripts. It's not hard, once you learn the basics."
"You would?" I asked my tone filled with doubt, Linze paused for a bit. 'Is it my luck or is this is a scam? But previously...'
I continued after taking a deep breath. "Regardless of how friendly and gold hearted people are no one helps a stranger they have just met. If you had asked for some sort of compensation, I would have been more inclined to believe you but..."
Linze's eyes widened, she opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly caught off guard by my bluntness. Elze, meanwhile, let out a low whistle, her smirk widening as she leaned forward, elbows on the table.
"Wow, Ishant, you don't pull punches, do you?" Elze said, her green eyes glinting with amusement. "Calling my sister a liar already? Bold move for a guy who can't read a menu."
"I didn't call her a liar and cut me some slack will you. I am in a situation where someone might teach me to read salt as sugar and sugar as salt," I spoke while crossing my arms. "People don't usually offer help for free. Not where I'm from." I kept my tone light, but the skepticism hung between us. I didn't want to offend Linze, but trust was a luxury I couldn't afford plus I was raised to fear the free lunch.
Linze took a deep breath, her voice soft but steady when she spoke. "I… I understand. You don't know us, and we don't know you." She glanced at Elze, who gave her an encouraging nod, then met my eyes. "I offered because… well, I like teaching. And you seem… honest. Not like some of the folks we've met who'd scam a merchant blind." Her lips curved into a small smile. "Plus, I've got time. We're stuck in Reflet for a bit. Helping you would be… nice."
Her sincerity hit me like a warm breeze, and I felt a twinge of guilt for doubting her. Those green eyes didn't hold a hint of deception—just a quiet earnestness that made me want to trust her.
"Nice, huh?" I said, quirking an eyebrow. "You sure you're not just trying to get me to owe you one? I'm broke, you know." I flashed a grin to soften the jab, hoping to keep things friendly.
Elze laughed, a sharp, infectious sound that cut through the low hum of the inn. "Broke, huh? Don't worry, we're not in the business of shaking down newbies. Yet." She winked, leaning back in her chair with a casual confidence that made it clear she was used to holding her own.
Linze, still clutching her book, gave me a small, reassuring smile. "I mean it, Ishant. No tricks. If you want, we can start with the basics tomorrow. The alphabet, simple words. It won't take long to get you reading signs and menus." Her voice was gentle but firm, like she was determined to prove her good intentions.
I studied them both for a moment. Elze's playful smirk and Linze's earnest gaze were a stark contrast, but they shared a certain groundedness that felt… trustworthy. Maybe it was the warmth of the meal still settling in my stomach, or the fact that I'd already lucked out with Berg and Martha, but I decided to take a chance.
"Alright," I said, leaning forward slightly. "I'll take you up on that, Linze. But let me also help you out a bit."
Linze's face lit up, her shyness melting into quiet excitement. "You won't regret it! You'll see."
"Alright, we'll see." I said standing up. "Well, ladies it was nice meeting you. Good night for today and I'll see you tomorrow."
The replied their wishes in unison, I waved them and went for Martha after which I climbed the squeaking stairs up and in my room.
*******
The mattress was firm but yielding, the blanket coarse and warm against my skin. I stared up at the wooden ceiling, its knots and grains barely visible in the dim moon light filtering through the window. The world outside was quiet now, save for the occasional chirp of a night creature or the faint creak of a cart rolling by.
My body relaxed, the tension from the day—meeting Berg, navigating Reflet Town, and the unexpected encounter with Elze and Linze—melting into the bed. But as my muscles unwound, my mind began to churn, and a cold, heavy feeling crept into my chest.
I was here. In this world. Alive, somehow, thanks to the old God who brought me to this place. But back there… in my old world…
I was dead.
The thought hit me like a punch, sharp and unyielding. I'd been avoiding it all day, keeping busy with the newness of this place, the vibrant colors, the friendly faces, the promise of a fresh start. But now, in the silence of this unfamiliar room, there was no escaping it. I'd died. A stupid, senseless accident—struck by lightning, of all things. And with that, everything I'd known was gone.
My family. My parents, their faces so clear in my mind I could almost hear my mother's laugh, see my father's quiet smile as he read the morning newspaper. My little sister, always pestering me to play games or help with her homework, her eyes bright with mischief. Friends I'd grown up with, the streets I'd walked a thousand times, the life I'd taken for granted—it was all out of reach now. Forever.
A lump formed in my throat, and I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to push the images away. I'd never see them again. Never hear their voices, never share another meal, never argue over something trivial or laugh at an old memory. They were gone—or rather, I was gone. To them, I was a name on a gravestone, a story that ended too soon.
My chest tightened, and I turned onto my side, curling slightly as if I could shield myself from the ache. This world was beautiful, vibrant, full of possibilities I couldn't have imagined. But it wasn't home. It wasn't the place where my mother's cooking filled the kitchen, where my sister's laughter echoed down the hall, where my father's steady presence made everything feel safe.
I thought of the notebook on the table, its unreadable text a reminder of how much I had to learn, how far I was from understanding this place. I thought of Linze's offer to teach me, her shy smile, and Elze's bold grin. They were kind, and Berg and Martha had been too. Reflet Town was welcoming, a soft landing in a world I didn't yet belong to. But none of it could fill the void left by the life I'd lost.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I didn't bother wiping them away. There was no one here to see, no one to judge. Just me, alone with the weight of a life I could never reclaim.
I rolled onto my back again, staring at the ceiling as the first stars began to glimmer through the window. The sky was never clearer before and my thoughts equally cloudy. The ache in my chest didn't fade, but it dulled slightly, softened by exhaustion. I'd survived my first day here. I'd found a place to stay, food to eat, people who didn't treat me like an outsider. It wasn't much, but it was something. A start.
Tomorrow, I'd face the challenge of learning to read, of carving out a place in this world. I'd take Linze up on her offer, explore more of Reflet, maybe even figure out what this "light magic" affinity was all about. There was a path forward, even if it was shrouded in uncertainty.
But for now, I was tired. Tired of thinking, tired of grieving, tired of carrying the weight of two worlds. My eyelids grew heavy, the soft creak of the inn and the distant hum of the town lulling me toward sleep.
I pulled the blanket over me, the coarse fabric a small comfort. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was the faint outline of the notebook on the table, its pages full of mysteries I'd face tomorrow.
And then, with a final, shuddering breath, I let the darkness take me, slipping into a dreamless sleep.