I tip back with a shriek, throwing my sandwich up in front of me in self-defense—for all the good a few pieces of bread will do to save me from getting cooked alive. A wave of warm air rolls over me, and I tense in anticipation.
Nothing happens. Cracking an eye open, the fireball is floating above me, providing ample illumination and a lack of fiery death. I stare at it in wonder, even as it starts to burn holes in my vision.
“Who are you?” my attacker asks. “What are you doing in here?” There’s a pause. “Is that a sandwich?”
I squint at the person in the doorframe. Or, at the bottom of the doorframe might be more accurate. The gremlin-like creature before me is two feet tall, has green skin, long pointed ears, and braided brown hair. Even as I’m wondering what it—she?—might be, Echo fills me in.
[Iski, level 21 goblin forager]
Iski. No wonder her voice sounds familiar; she and Gugora were the two who found me. Who saved me.
She seems to recognize me at the same time. “Hey. You’re that kid. I thought you were hurt?”
“A healer—” My voice is raspy from disuse. I guess all that mumbling to myself didn’t help. I cough and clear my throat and start again. “A healer came. Today? Yesterday, I think. She didn’t heal me all the way, though.”
“Oh yeah?” The goblin waves her hand, and the ball of fire backs out of my face.
Wait, is that even fire? Two small white eyes shimmer from inside the flame’s depth, blinking at me. Then it zips over to the fireplace, setting the logs alight.
[Check: will-o’-the-wisp,] Echo says. [This elemental is a summon of the goblin Iski.]
I’m still staring at the wisp as Iski continues talking. “Why’d she stop?”
“What?” I ask, tearing my eyes away.
“The healer,” she says. “Why didn’t she heal you all the way?”
The reminder of why kindles fury in me once more. “Because I’m going to kill Maru, Champion of Widengra, God of War,” I hiss.
Iski gapes at me. The fireplace now sufficiently crackling, her wisp shakes itself from the fireplace, scattering ash and embers about the hearth like a dog shaking off the rain, then flies back to hover over Iski’s shoulder.
The goblin, for her part, starts spluttering. “You’ll—you’ll do what?”
A new figure appears in the doorway behind Iski, filling up the frame.
“What’s this?” a now-familiar voice says. Gugora pauses, taking in me, the mess of food I’ve left on the counter, and the general state of his storeroom. “What did you do to my kitchen?”
“Um,” I say. “I got hungry?”
“She wants to kill a god!” Iski cries.
“Demigod,” he grunts. “Yes. I know. Was hoping that was just the fever talking.”
“Why?” Iski asks, looking between him and me.
“Because she killed them.” My throat seizes up and my eyes start to burn. I angrily rub at them and swallow the tears down, trying to drown the pain in my anger. “Terimus, Rena, Layf. She killed all of them. And she tried to kill me. There wasn’t even any reason for it. She just killed them.”
Iski looks shocked.
Gugora lets out a long sigh. “Come on,” he says. “You’re up, so might as well settle all this now, too. Come out into the tavern. I’ll fix us something…” He eyes my mess dubiously. “...proper. Then, we’ll talk.”
I look at my soggy excuse for a sandwich and wilted greens. I drop it on the counter. “Something proper sounds amazing.”
----------------------------------------
Iski and Gugora sit across from me as I consume a crusty loaf of bread and salty broth, served in a bowl meant for the likes of Gugora. The broth isn’t half bad when it’s eaten with the crust, and it’s even better when Gugora returns with a platter of strange greens with melted cheese bubbling on the top, which I slather on the bread. I slowly consume everything placed in front of me. Guess I was more hungry than I thought.
“Where are you from, kid?” Iski finally asks.
I pause, bowl lifted halfway to my mouth. “Sal,” I say. “My name’s Sal.” Why is everyone calling me a kid? I thought teenagers were considered adults in medieval times. Not that I really know this society is medieval, but I’ve yet to encounter a flushable toilet.
“Sal,” Gugora repeats. “Same question.”
I’d sort of been hoping to deflect that one. I was nearly just murdered for being from a different world; I can’t tell them about my real origins. Even if they don’t believe me, that information getting out could cost me my life.
Just how it cost the others their lives.
Instead of answering, I take another bite of bread and shrug.
“You won’t tell us?” Gugora says. “Or you don’t know?”
“I don’t know,” I lie, because that sounds like the better of the two options.
“Where are you heading?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I repeat. That, at least, is truthful.
“Have you got friends? Family you can go to?”
I shake my head, trying to ignore the sting in my chest at the reminder of my parents. They’re beyond my reach now, anyway.
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“Do you know what country you’re in?”
“No.”
“Amnesia?” Iski wonders.
Gugora grunts. “You do remember how you ended up here, though?”
I nod. “Maru.”
“But you can’t remember anything before that?”
I hesitate. I guess my injuries could be a good excuse for my supposed amnesia. It’s the best lie I can think of on the fly, at any rate. “No. Nothing.”
“Sounds like amnesia to me,” Iski says. “Shame. Healers don’t mess with head stuff.”
Gugora is still giving me a calculated look. I try to hold it without squirming. Then he blows air out his nose, shaking his head.
“Iski’s right. I don’t know if anything can be done for your memories. They might come back in time.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure how I should respond. Should I appear sad? I’m not sure I could convincingly fake it, so instead I keep my gaze down at the last few dregs of soup left in my bowl. I don’t really have to fake anything, though: Thoughts of my parents are starting to seep back in, unbidden, poisoning my appetite. I set the bowl down.
“You can stay here,” Gugora says. “While you figure things out.”
“Really?” Iski says, giving him a sharp look. “Is that wise?”
He shrugs.
I hesitate. It’s not that I don’t appreciate his hospitality, but this isn’t what I want. Getting stuck in some remote inn in the woods, when I should be out there tracking Maru down? No way.
I shake my head. “I have to get stronger. I need to learn to use magic. I need to learn how to fight!”
Gugora snorts, which only makes me more irritated.
Iski looks similarly skeptical of my abilities. “You aiming to work for the Adventurer’s Guild or something?”
A spark of hope ignites in me. “Yes! That’s perfect. I’ll join that.”
But Gugora is shaking his head, and now it’s Iski who’s chuckling. “Kid, you wouldn’t last a second,” she says.
I flush with indignance. “I can learn!”
“The Adventurer’s Guild isn’t where you go to learn,” Gugora says, “it’s where young naive fighters go to die. But alright,” he adds before I can object. “Let’s say you want to do that. Where do you find them?”
I hesitate. “I thought maybe you guys would tell me.”
“Closest town is Fairwood,” Iski says, nodding toward the door. “About a six hour walk due North of here. Can’t miss it.”
I squint at the two, suspecting some trap. “Then I’ll just go there.”
Gugora nods. “So you show up at the Adventurer’s Guild. Sign up. Pick a job.”
“Yep,” I say, jutting my chin at him stubbornly.
“And then you get some dinner,” he says.
I shrug. “Sure.”
“With what money?” he asks.
I pause. “Um. I guess I’ll need to finish a job first.”
He nods, still humoring me, but I can feel the heat of an embarrassed blush creeping up the back of my neck. “Alright. And that job requires you to hunt a direwolf that’s been bothering the city. Or retrieve eggs from a razorbeak’s nest. Or fight a pack of—”
“Okay!” I say. “Okay, I get it, it’s dangerous.”
“And more importantly, you’re completely unequipped,” Iski says. “Not even basic armor or a weapon.”
“And those cost money,” Gugora agrees.
“Takes money to make money,” Iski adds.
I groan, reluctant to admit they’re right. “What am I supposed to do, then?”
The bench scrapes back with a low rumble as Gugora stands, grabbing my empty bowl and plate. “Do the same thing as the rest of us. Get a job.”
I look from him to Iski as he disappears into the back with my dirty dishes. “Here?” I ask, skeptically.
“Don’t look at me,” she says. “I think it’s a terrible idea. The Starlight Inn can barely afford to stay running as is. The last thing we need is some maniac bringing the wrath of gods down on our establishment.”
I frown. “You really think they’d do that?”
“You really wanna risk it?” she counters.
“If their egos are so fragile that me being mad about my friends’ murders is enough to cause them to smite us, then they deserve to be taken down,” I shoot back.
Gugora returns from the back. “Didn’t take long to get back on this subject.”
I glower at him. “You saw what Maru did, didn’t you?”
He and Iski exchange a weary look. “We did.”
“Then you know they deserve revenge,” I say. “It’s not right what she did to them. It’s not fair.”
Gugora sighs as he heavily sits back down. “It’s not.”
“Neither is life,” Iski adds.
I roll my eyes. “Oh please, like I haven’t heard that one a thousand times.” I know it deep in my soul. I know it better than most people twice my age. “Just because it isn’t fair doesn’t mean we should do nothing about it. What about justice?” I look between them. “Shouldn’t I try? Is this normal? The gods just trample over people and, what, we take it lying down?”
“Demigods,” Iski corrects. “It’s the Champions that tend to leave ruin in their path. The gods don’t often leave the heavens. At least, not much anymore.”
I shake my head. “God, demigod, whatever. The point is, why can’t I fight back? It won’t do anything? I’m not allowed to?”
“Because you’ll get killed,” Gugora says bluntly. “And, yes, none of us would stand a chance. Trying to stand up to a demigod is a death wish. Maybe only a handful of the world’s most powerful mages could go poking that dragon and survive. For the rest of us, we just have to keep our heads down, hope we stay out of their line of fire, and focus on surviving. The Champions are nearly immortal.”
I perk up. “Nearly?”
“Effectively,” he says, shaking his head. “Look, kid—”
“Sal,” I hiss. I wish everyone would stop seeing me just as some weak kid.
“Sal,” he says, looking at me levelly. “She already almost killed you, and I suspect she wasn’t even trying. Tell me to my face you think you stand a chance.”
I hold his gaze, defiance flaring within me. But then the panic of that moment returns, the helplessness, the agony and despair. I drop my gaze, rubbing my shoulder. “I don’t.”
Not today, at any rate. But I don’t intend to stay this weak forever. First, I need to finish recovering from my injuries. Then, I need to save up some money. Start training with magic and swords and whatever else Echo can give me. Even if it takes me years. Even if I have to force every tiny step forward.
I won’t die lying down on my back, weak and waning. Not again.
I look back up at Gugora. “So… does the offer to stay here still stand?”
Gugora offers me a small smile as Iski sighs. “You’re too soft,” she says. “This will be trouble, mark my words.”
“Of course you can stay,” he says.
“And work?” I ask. “Paid?”
“Hey now,” Iski starts to object, but Gugora waves her down.
“Payment would only be fair,” he says, and I shoot a victorious grin at Iski. “Of course,” he adds, “we’ll need to deduct room and board from your wages.”
“What! That’s highway robbery,” I say.
“I seem to remember you were the one sneaking into our stores in the middle of the night to take our food,” Iski says.
“We’re just two innkeeps trying to get by.” Gugora says it seriously, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Clothes,” Iski pipes up. “Wage deduction for taking our clothes, too.”
“Hey,” I object. “That one’s not fair. I haven’t taken any of your clothes!”
Iski jabs a finger at the blanket still draped around my shoulders. “Oh yeah? Then why are you still holding onto Gugora’s scarf?”
I look down at the blanket. Now that she mentions it, it is a scarf. Black and oversized, all wrapped up around my shoulders like a shawl. I guess for an orc, this would be normal-scarf sized.
“Sorry,” I say, a little embarrassed as I start to peel it off. “I didn’t know.”
He stops me with a gentle hand. “No, no. Keep it. You need it more right now. Don’t let Iski’s teasing get to you.”
“For the record, I’m entirely serious,” Iski says. But even she’s quirking a smile.
“Thank you,” I say. “Both of you. You saved my life—more than once, I think.” Finding me in the forest, taking me back here, getting the healer, and now offering me shelter, food, and money. They’re being more than generous.
Which stings me with guilt, knowing I’ll just be using this place as my first steppingstone to get to Maru.
“Of course,” Gugora says. “We would have done the same for anyone. Maybe in time your memories will come back and we’ll help you find a way home.”
“Yeah,” I say, trying to force a smile. “Maybe.”
I’ve only known these people for less than an hour, and already the lies are stacking up.
It’s for the best, though. My true origin is dangerous information, and what they don’t know can’t hurt them. As Iski helps clean up the last of the plates, I take my guilt, box it away, and feed it as kindling to my growing fire of revenge.