It had taken a good fifteen minutes for Jonah to come to terms with the fashion of his new world and the limited clothes available to him. Kalyah had brought out a wide variety, several sets of each item, each gathered along the two weeks he had been asleep. There were no jeans, he loved a durable pair of jeans and would wear them for far longer than he probably should. The closest bottoms they had were britches in two different styles, loose like sweatpants and fitted. He chose the tighter ones that went all the way to his ankles, no reason to show off more of his calves, so now only his booted feet showed. All the shirts were some variation of tunic, they didn’t have anything like graphic t-shirts save tunics that sported a coat of arms. This according to Kalyah and Diana, who were confused as to why he would be advertising for a musician if he wasn’t working for them. This made him grieve for the majority of his old closet and all the beautiful artwork now lost to him. He had tried to explain it that way, but it just didn’t help them to understand why he should display both artwork and a musician at the same time. After his mourning quieted down, it didn’t matter what color or style he wore, so he picked a black one short enough to not be belted in the middle.

There were two jackets for him to pick from and he spent the most time on them trying to decide. He had loved the feel of his own leather jacket, the weight, the size, and the outer shell like armor on him. Sadly he lived in the hottest state and he had a couple months, maybe a handful of weeks he was able to wear it. His room now was cooler than many days of winter where he came from and this apparel was to walk on a flying ship’s deck. Diana assured him the world was much colder than the heat he described.

“Your world sounds like the Isles of Ash, miserably hot and dry,” Diana said with a disgusted look.

“In the summer, you can cook eggs on the sidewalk,” he said, the phrase repeated ad infinitum to winter visitors of the state. It made him happy to tell her and see the shock.

“How? How is one location so hot?” she said, looking to Kalyah for answers.

The nurse was supporting Jonah and she merely shrugged.

“It’s a desert, people just built there,” he said, returning to his admiration of the jackets. “That’s why I like these, I never got to wear mine enough. This green one, it looks like crocodile leather, is it really?”

Diana ran her hand along the ridged scales, considering them and shook her head. “No, a relative of the creature, the monstrous ancestor I suppose you would call it. That’s a leviathan’s hide. They are usually a good size bigger, but as they age they keep growing without ceasing. At some point a gland in them starts to overwork itself and they start to balloon out in size, consuming all they can to account for their growth. They can snap down adult oaks and eat a stag in one bite.” She smirked at his surprise. “When this happens a Druid must put it to death and stop the endless destruction. If they didn’t breed like rabbits, then they would be wiped out already. They are one of the few remaining Watchdogs leftover from the construction of the planet.” When he eyed her curiously, she explained the origins of her nation to him with a practiced ease. “The Magi twins were not the only ones to make the watchdogs, they existed all over. Some of their lesser kin are still about the world. I am glad we are flying over open water. Some of the ancient beasts tend to make their lairs in the deep ocean.”

Jonah glanced out the window, suddenly thankful for the flight over the sea as well. He snatched up the jacket and set it aside in his outfit pile. “No way I can turn down a dinosaur monster leather jacket,” he said happily.

She smirked at him, there had been pitying frowns over his grief over the plain shirts, this was far better.

Kalyah patted his back lightly. "Okay, are you ready for that shower mister?" she said with a grin.

All the joy drained from him quickly. "I can do it on my own," he said.

The nurse's face straightened out. "Honey, I wouldn't normally let anyone that was under as long as you shower alone. Nevermind all the limbs you're new to using. You're recovering fast, but not that fast. I'd say you need at least a full week before you are on your own.” She rubbed her hand in circles on his back to his frowning. “That’s compared to the months you might have to wait for a Machinist apprentice to custom make your limbs, and weeks of recovery while you sat in a hospital bed. Our temples don’t function as well as they should. We always got bogged down with less dire cases, it was a shame.” She sighed. “I’m here to help you, I’m your personal Priestess, and I know what’s best for my patient. So, either I help you in there, or I run in after you’ve fallen over and help you anyways.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he conceded.

Aiko bounded off towards the door, bursting out to a tiger by the time it reached it, and began to chuff and paw at the wood.

“Now you wish to leave?” Diana said, following. She glanced back at them. “I’ll see you up there. Keep safe,” she added.

Jonah couldn’t even remove the gown on his own without a bolt of pain going up his shoulders. Kalyah helped him, throwing the nasty garment aside while he leaned on the bathroom counter. The reflection of his scrawny light brown body made him grimace. He had been so much fuller before, so much darker. His mother was a deep bronze, his grandmother a rich coffee. One of his earliest memories had been the former sliding her skilled fingers along the fretboard of a stratocaster while his small hand pawed at the strings to her direction. His grandmother, that time and many others, had brought him onto her lap, looping her dark meaty arm around him. She kissed his head, telling him his performance was done, it was time for his mother to play. He had cried, reaching out his own deep redbone arms to his mother, yelling, “Play, I want to play!” Then his grandmother swatted his hands down, a sharp snap of her thick fingers. Letting the guitar sag, his mother then urged her own to stop hitting him. There was a argument about discipline, all he remembered about it was the mention of a father he didn’t have. “Some white loser with pretty eyes, that’s all you got from him, your mama gave you the rest,” was his grandmother’s common response when he asked.

Eventually his mother started playing and that memory ended as all the songs his mother had played since blended together. Now both those women were gone, along with his redbone arms, replaced by an empty void and cold bluish steel. He needed more sun, more weight to keep the lines of his bones away. The machine arms were as wide as his old ones, lightweight when he was able, heavier when he realized how weak he was truly.

Kalyah had removed her gloves, warm milky hands and pink painted fingers supporting him in his lean. She smiled, her lips glossed to match her nails. “The blessed food is already starting to stick to you,” she said, patting his stomach. “I can give you a towel bath if you want.”

“No, into the shower,” he said, jerking his head over to the metal half cylinder.

“These gotta go, honey,” she said, pointing to his hip and the ragged underwear there.

He nodded, holding his breath at the improaching shame.

She removed them in one quick gesture. There was no mention of his nudity, or even a look. She was a nurse, he knew how professional they could be. Calmly she led him in and he did as much soaping as he could, her hands supporting him deftly. She had removed her shoes and socks, padding around in the puddle with her tiny feet of pink nails. His head hung whenever she had to soap a place he couldn’t reach. So sadly he saw more of them than he would like, making an effort not to step on them. At least they were better to look at than his own hard steel.

“I need to massage you above the cuff, but I’ll wait until later,” Kalyah casually commented. “Unless they hurt now.”

“No, I’m fine,” he said, the water spraying softly, steaming up the mirror and the air to a balmy fog.

There was pain both in his soul and limbs, needing all the help he did. He had trained a lot, it was only right that he was sore. His hunger only made it worse, he figured. The food would never taste better, knowing that it would stop something like this.

Kalyah dressed him with the same professionalism, offering her arm as they made their way out. Sadly, Diana had taken her staff with her. He felt so much better in real clothes that the support wasn’t too bothersome. The cotton was gentle on his skin, the inside of the dinosaur leather jacket a silken fabric. There was a good weight to it and a stiff yet familiar sound in the crinkle of each movement as they worked up the stairs. The door to the top deck flew open with one push of Kalyah’s hand and full bodyweight. The sun he so desired to feel nearly blinded him and the fresh air coursed through his tight damp hair. Salt filled his nose and the breeze breathed life back into him. Over the railings he saw the endless expanse of the ocean many hundreds of feet below, the light reflecting off of it. He had resided in a place of dirt, locked in by land on all sides for hundreds of miles. He had survived in a dark shell of grief, watching what was meant to be a wonder as his life passed before him. This was it, in reality, a whole new world. Not just colors on a screen, but smells, feelings, and taste.

“There he is, the Newbie, ready to swab the decks!” called the crow man as he glided down from his nest. Landing on the railing, he spread his wings wide, another feather flitting away in the wind. “Isn’t it amazing? And the sky is so blue!”

“Yeah, yeah it is,” Jonah said, his eyes watering.