"Huh!" Gideon shouted. "What do you mean she's the chosen one? How can you know that for sure?!"
"What's got you so worked up?" Lala asked.
"I mean, that's absurd. There's no such thing as a chosen one!"
And if there were, it would be me—
"Well," Noreen said, "I just know that she is."
"That's bullshit!" Gideon snapped.
"No, it's not." Noreen's tone stayed even. "I know she's the chosen one."
"How can you be so sure?!" Gideon demanded.
"It's simple. Intuition."
"That is bullshit!" he repeated.
Noreen and Lala exchanged sighs.
Gideon turned to Lala. "D-don't look at me. I didn't choose this role. I didn't even know I was one until he came to me one day."
"And you believed him?" Gideon asked.
"He sounded convinced. And he helped me get stronger."
"Are you sure he isn't senile?" Gideon said.
Lala shrugged.
"This is ridiculous. I'm outta here."
"Where are you going? You said you aren't from here."
"I don't know, but I'll figure something out."
Gideon left and slammed the door behind him.
Chosen one... her? He muttered under his breath. This isn't how the script is supposed to go. She's supposed to be my sidekick—the script's all wonky.
He sighed. Even so, I don't have any money. I don't even know the currency. Dammit.
Gideon wandered out of the poorer quarter and back into the main city. People rode horses and chariots; children walked beside parents carrying baskets of groceries. It felt like a staged version of the Middle Ages.
"This really looks like the Middle Ages, or at least how it's commonly depicted," he muttered.
He used the walk to collect his thoughts. He had killed himself—of that he was certain—and somehow been transported, perhaps reincarnated, into another world. He'd met Lala and an old dwarf claiming she was the chosen one. He must be mistaken.
A small pub caught his eye; he ducked inside. The smell of beer and fried food hit him immediately. He took a seat at the front, head between his arms. When the bartender asked if he wanted anything, Gideon only shook his head and lowered it again.
How in the world am I going to survive here? he thought. He didn't know anyone. He'd made a fool of himself and stormed off—there was no way he could go back.
He sighed and cursed himself inwardly.
Outside, Noreen and Lala stood staring at the closed door.
"Lala," Noreen said suddenly, "you don't know that young man's origins?"
"No, sir."
"There's been a recent uptick in spies sent by Arcturus."
"Yes. I asked if he was a spy—he said he wasn't. He seemed genuine. You know I'm good at reading people."
It was true. In the years Noreen had trained her, Lala's instincts had rarely been wrong.
"I trust your read on people," Noreen said, "but we can't assume you were merely lucky. A spy in Avalon—especially in the capital, Solaris—would be a grave problem."
"Yes, I know. But the poor guy would've been bear food if I hadn't saved him."
"That too could be a clever trick from the enemy." Noreen's voice was cautious.
Lala bit her lip. "I must call for him." She offered a silent prayer for Gideon.
By dusk the pub was crowded and the owner had had enough.
"If you're not buying anything, you can leave!" he barked, shoving Gideon toward the door.
Outside, the streets were warm and quiet. It was late—Gideon guessed not later than eight—and the city was thinning. Prostitutes lingered in shadowed corners; he declined awkwardly when approached.
He couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. Every time he turned, there was no one there.
His aimless wandering led him to a lone barn on the outskirts, set beside a small meadow. He pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside. The smell of manure hit him hard. Gideon padded to the back, found a pile of hay, and lay down, staring at the rafters.
"Maybe I should kill myself again," he whispered. "I thought I could start over, but I'm a nobody—worse off than before."
As he toyed with the thought, something flew past the barn and struck the wall nearby. He froze; if he moved now, he felt certain he'd die.
A shadowy figure stood in the doorway. With so little light he couldn't make out a face. The figure approached slowly, reached up to the wall, and took down a weapon.
A dagger.
Gideon trembled. The stranger's voice was male. "Who are you?"
"My name is Gideon," he managed.
"Where are you from?"
"Well... that's—"
"You can't say?"
"I can, but I'm not from here."
"From another country?"
"You could say that."
"Arcturus?"
"No. I've never been there. I don't even know what that place is. I swear it!"
"Lala was right, then. You aren't a spy. Either that or you're a very good actor." Relief softened the man's tone.
"Huh... Lala?" Gideon said, puzzled.
"I'll leave you be. But if you can't come up with a name or a birthplace, I recommend you leave. Avalon isn't welcoming to strangers."
Just as quickly as he'd appeared, the man left.
Gideon lay back in the hay, shaking at the thought of what lay ahead. Is this really how the first day in a new world is going to go for me?