One second he was here, the next, he was there. It was not that complicated if you thought of it, but his mind made it out to be. It was a general rule among sorcerers that you took someone’s consent before summoning them. Unfortunately for the victim of the summoning ritual, the summoner was not an idiotic sorcerer, he was just an idiot.

The small boy who had carried out a feat meant for only sorcerers did not stop to ponder on why only sorcerers did this ritual. Thus, it was only fitting when the small, stubborn boy found himself in a bed with some strange device known to most as a phone started beeping beside him.

However, I think we started on the wrong foot, the story of the small, stubborn, stupid boy is not why I am here. If you really want to know, it only took a week for him to be sent to a mental asylum. Quite a record if you asked me.

Why I am here, however, is to talk about the victim of said small, stubborn, stupid, shameless boy and his small, stupid, shameless summoning ritual. Luckily the victim wasn’t small, stupid and shameless like the idiot boy. Instead, he was of medium height, smart and (of course) shameless.

Another lucky occurrence (that is if you can call anything which happened in the wake of the idiot boy’s ritual ‘lucky’), was the survival of the idiot girl. Actually... You see, unlike the idiot boy, the idiot girl was not so much of an idiot, so we shall just refer to her as the ‘average girl’. The average girl was smart enough to not want to try a summoning ritual that would most likely blow up in her face. Even if they were desperate.

Now, the girl was very happy on many accords. You see, unlike the average person, the average girl was not quite average, so we shall now refer to her as the ‘smart girl’. Although if you tried, you could add many other adjectives after that. Stupid, stubborn, shameless were some of them, the most important, however, is sickly.

The smart, sickly girl got back to work on sharpening the dagger in her hands. The victim was supposed to stay down on the floor dazed for another few minutes and she wanted to take her time. It would be a pity if the dagger didn’t go all the way through the first time, for both herself and the unconscious victim.

The small shaded hut let the final rays of sunlight through the open door. Only idiot girls and boys would leave the door open in such a situation, however, she is forgiven because she is sick. Only idiot boys and girls would not bring a lantern with them when they were carrying out two deadly rituals in a row, however, she is forgiven because they were two chips short of being able to buy one. Only idiot boys and girls would perform a dark ritual at night, however, she is forgiven because she is short on time and can do it no later. Only idiot boys and girls would not sharpen the dagger earlier, however, she is forgiven because she has never killed before and is hesitating.

Only dead people would do all of them, and death does not forgive. That is why, in the morning when a stray cat slinks around the corner and into the house, all she sees is a dead girl and a trail of darkness coming from a circle of hastily drawn shapes and making it's out the door.

Chapter 1

Ethan had woken up on the floor. He wanted to sleep in because his mental clock told him it was Saturday. But it was extremely hard to go back to sleep the same way you woke up, this prompted him to roll over. Trust Ethan, a dead body was not a pleasant sight to see when you woke up (actually, it never is (for Ethan)). Especially when it’s right next to you. Don’t ask me why Ethan didn’t notice the smell or that he was sleeping on the floor. Sleep is supposed to be one of the strongest pieces of mind magic. Cast by one of my cousins, I think.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

When he had finished cowering in the corner he stood up, still trembling of course. He stepped around the dead body, like one would when they saw a cockroach in their bathroom and didn’t want to wake it up. If you ask me, I would say that cockroaches are far worse - after a few millennia dead bodies grow boring, and I can never quite see a cockroach from all the way up here.

What the hell is going on…

Nothing really. The proper question should’ve been what the hell went on. The Great Ethan of Incorrect Grammar set off from the dark ramshackle hut and ventured into the dark night outside.

It took him hardly thirty seconds to connect the dots. You didn’t find cobbled streets or stone houses in the states. You also didn’t generally wake up next to dead people, not to say some people haven’t. Ethan was a connoisseur of all things fantasy. He lived fantasy. Unfortunately for him Ethan was slightly too practical and hence had never actually bought anything related to fantasy. Piracy was his best friend, they even went on a date but Piracy was friend zoned.

So it was not hard to imagine Ethan’s face when he realised exactly what had happened. It was one of unimaginable pain. He didn’t want a life of adventure, which if you have never read a fantasy book, is one of unimaginable pain, suffering, and if you’re lucky - a painless death. The only fantasy books which were lovey-dovey were the unrealistic ones.

Even if he enjoyed reading of the perils of others, it didn’t mean he wanted to be the one going through such things if he could read them. Ethan was not a masochist, he was a sad-, he was sad. Just sad.

You might be wondering what Ethan was doing, walking around with no goal in mind. To be honest, he was waiting for someone to spot him, or to bump into someone or something. Then he remembered, that if one of those did happen, he would be started on his quest of inevitable pai- awesomeness. So, being the smart fifteen-year-old he was, he decided to hide.

Where would be the last place someone would expect me to be?

If you’re still wondering why Ethan hadn’t given a second thought to his parents or family back on earth, it’s because he doesn’t have any. Don’t feel bad for him, he never knew them. Raised in an orphanage, his only family were his friends. Honestly, even they did not warrant much thought at a moment like this.

Anyway, back to the question at hand. No one would expect a potential hero (because that is what he obviously was) to act normal. Heroes were heroes, and laymen were laymen. Hence, he decided to act normal. It was night so many options were out of reach. Walking on the streets at night was not a valid option because no one else was there. Hiding in the house with the dead body which he had just come from was unfeasible. He didn’t want to be arrested. He could try begging the people here for room, although that would also make him stand out (and Ethan has some pride).

Ethan thought of places where other people would be at this hour. Most of them would be asleep. Drawing upon his vast knowledge of fantasy worlds, he deduced that only taverns and brothels would be open now. And like the good boy he was, he decided to go to the tavern.

He did realise that many stories started in a tavern and he was not keen to repeat the mistake countless protagonists had done before. He would not anger any important looking people. He would not go looking for trouble. He would not join in any bar fight and instead would walk out as any sane person would do. After repeating his vows to himself a few more times for assurance he set off.

He walked uphill because everything important was in the centre of the city and the centre of the city was always higher than the surroundings. After what seemed to him like half an hour of walking, he was about to give up. Vehicles make you underestimate the size of a city. After another assumed half an hour he gave up. Although what he would do now was beyond him.

 He didn’t have to decide, someone else did for him. It was at midnight when one day slipped into another that he was teleported against his will. Again. The story moved on, with or without his permission. And no, it wasn’t me.