The endless stream of questions from Valethalassa did not help with Ian’s sense of displacement. She barraged him about his home, his gun, his clothes, and his family, for what felt like hours. He knew she was trying to poke holes in his story. He’d done much the same in his many hours in the interrogation room, but Ian’s story never wavered or changed. As is often the case with honesty, and truth.

Now that Ian wasn’t delirious with pain, and dehydration he paid more attention to the forest. There wasn’t much to see, and that was due to their shadow wolf chaperone. The presence of a predator had that effect on wildlife. What he did see was mostly birds. Strange, alien, and interesting birds. One had four wings arranged in the same pattern as a butterfly’s. Another had trailing tail feathers that left smoke in their wake. It all made him feel extraordinarily out-of-place. And made the reality of his situation even more glaring.

Valethalassa began pointing out the fauna to him when she’d noticed his unease, hoping it might knock loose some memories. She was operating on the assumption that he was under a curse, which Ian had refuted.

He did cheer up a bit when he saw a cardinal, though. The familiar bright red bird gave him a sense of normalcy. He gravitated towards the creature to admire it, snapping a twig as he approached. The bird let out a high-pitched chirp and promptly vanished. No puff of smoke, or flash of light, the bird was there one instant and gone the next. And with it his sense of normalcy.

His thoughts turned back to his situation. Okay, so we are clearly not on Earth. And if we are not on Earth then this is an alien planet. Which means that elves, whacko birds, shadow wolves, and everything else are real. That line of thought opened a whole host of questions that he was not ready to contemplate. He shook his head and diverted his attention back to Valethalassa, who was still prattling on about all the flora and fauna they were passing.

“...and that was a Rek’par Edhellein,” She gestured at the spot the bird had vanished from.

“Wreck par, gotcha,” Ian replied.

“No, Rek’par… You know you seem to be having trouble with elven pronunciations. We will speak in origin. You seem to at least have a firm grasp on that language,” She said, glancing back to check if that was acceptable. Ian’s look of non-comprehension caused her to sigh in exasperation. “Someone truly does not like you, do they? Curses can be awful things,” She continued before Ian could correct her, “Almost everyone speaks origin, at least to some degree. The interesting part lies in how it is heard. When someone speaks origin, one of two things can happen. If the listener understands origin, they will hear the statement in origin. If the listener does not understand origin, however, they will hear the statement in their native language. It is automagically translated. If you, for example, wanted to speak with a dwarf who only spoke dwarven, you could speak to him in origin and it would translate to be heard as dwarven by him.”

“Automagically?” Ian asked.

“Automatic magic. Things that happen magically with no real active need to cast a spell. I do not fully understand it myself and when The Seer tried to explain it to me, I got a headache,” Valethalassa replied.

“So that’s how you can understand english and how I’m hearing english?” Ian asked shaking his head with an amazed expression.

“English?” She stopped short, avoiding Ian’s stumbled, and gave him a very quizzical expression, “I am not familiar with that dialect. But to me, you are speaking origin.”

So either I speak a language that I was never taught, or somehow english and origin are the same. Makes perfect sense, Ian mused. He was quickly learning that he would have to accept some things if he was going to survive this insanity. He tabled that thought and instead started to wonder how much longer it would be until they reached Landorei. Rather than butchering her name he slipped into the habit of all Americans: he shortened the meaningful foreign name to something short and manageable.

“Vale, how-” Ian began.

“Please do not call me that,” She cut him off sharply, “It expresses a level of informality far beyond that which our present relationship has reached,” she paused, considering a thought, “Although, I suppose your appalling pronunciation might be an even greater offense. Very well. Until we reach Landorei, you have my permission to call me Vale.”

“Until Land-o-Elf then,” Ian said, he couldn’t help but grin at her dismay towards his nickname for her capital city, “Oh, come on, that was a little funny.”

They were silent for a time. Ian rapidly getting lost in his thoughts stopped looking ahead. He caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye and reflexively went for his gun. Vale’s slender fingers curled around his arm, and she yanked him away from a cluster of low hanging vines.

“Be careful, those are Corpse vines. They will drain your body of all its blood if they are able to wrap you up. The lightest touch will do, and I would not be able to free you in time to save your life,” She warned, though this time she was calm rather than admonishing.

“Thanks,” Ian said, ducking around the purple vines, “Good to know even the plants are lethal.” He gave far greater care to his surroundings after that.

“Do not worry Ian, The Seer will be able to rid you of your curse. I cannot imagine being so oblivious that Corpse vines posed a threat to me,” Vale said as they pressed on.

“Yes, but I’m not cursed,” Ian said, “I told you I’m not from this place.”

“Paragore?” Vale supplied helpfully.

“Yes, Paragore,” Ian shot back irritably. He’d had given up the notion that this was all merely a dream, and he found that he was handling it rather well. Everything felt far too real, from the pain in his blistered feet to the earthy scents hanging in the damp air. Occam’s razor and the overwhelming evidence from yesterday left him with little doubt; he had been transported to another world. Paragore.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

And somehow, he was going to get home. That was his main goal. His only goal. The moment he decided that this place was real was the same moment that he decided to leave it as quickly as possible. He reasoned that the magically inclined gentleman (he wasn’t quite ready to say, wizard) was his best bet.

“So then, this Seer will know how to get me back to D.C.?” Ian asked.

“Correct,” Vale replied.

The next few minutes passed in comfortable silence. At least for Vale, Ian was trying to process. Ian’s mind was combing over all the nonsensical fantasy knowledge stored there. Earth’s mythology, Delving and Demons, and even video games hoping the once useless trivia would help. These thoughts quickly turned to more recent events.

Ian had to know what happened to Anders. The last he saw of Anders was his body landing with a sickening crunch on the warehouse floor. Who’s going to tell his wife… and what will they even tell her? Ian thought. He needed to know what had happened. Was anyone looking for him? Was he ever going to get home?

“The Arcane Seer will help you, Ian,” Vale’s voice cut into his thoughts, “At worst he will lessen the effects of your curse, at best he’ll remove it and you can be on your way. And you should watch your tone with him. He is not as used to dealing with humans as I am. I would not even bring you to him if it were not for your…” She had stopped to eye him over as she sought the appropriate words, “conveniently vague plight.”

“Conveniently vague!?” Ian’s temper flared, “I’ve been telling you detail upon detail for hours! And I know you wanted me to slip up and change my story, but unfortunately for you that doesn’t happen when someone is telling the truth! Yesterday I went to work and investigated a stupid case with my partner. A bunch of bullshit happened. Then I woke up in a cave in the middle of the woods. Then-” His voice rose in pitch, “Then I get seduced by a lake! Tackled by a gargantuan wolf, kidnapped, and then told that I am a liar and that my whole world doesn’t exist! This is all ridiculous. I grew up playing games, reading books, and watching movies about this made-up stuff,” His arms gestured about wildly at his surroundings, “And none of it is supposed to be real!”

Mal appeared at the sudden outburst. His eyes bored into Ian with a dangerous glint as he stalked over to her side. The glare had the effect of quelling Ian’s anger.

Vale gave the wolf’s back a single stroke, causing him to sit down obediently before she bounded up onto a large protruding tree root. She placed her hands on her hips and looked down at him to emphasize her next point.

“Well I am very real, and as far as I am concerned, you are still nothing more than a very clever deceiver. I think that you are bewitched, and truly believe that you speak the truth. We will get to the bottom of this once we reach The Seer. Until then, try to control yourself and pay attention,” Vale said, before leaping from the log she landed without disturbing a single leaf, “Let me start with some basics, and with any luck something will help with your memory.”

Ian remained silent, watching Mal. When it became apparent he was not going to be eaten he followed along behind Vale. Mal gave Ian a soft growl when he walked past, then disappeared back into the woods.

“There are several human settlements inside the forest, though they keep to the edges. And a dwarven hearth-head in the mountains of Tir’Kul,” she pointed behind her without looking, “the dwarves have been there almost as long as we have been in these woods. Their kingdom is a wonder of engineering and craftsmanship. Other than dwarves and humans we do not see many of the other races. Despite the nations having had a lasting peace, over four thousand years and counting, the stigma of elves being isolationists persists.

“The Reclaimers Army were the source of our peace. They enacted the Eternal Accords after a very dark chapter in Paragore’s history. Were it not for them, the world would surely have been lost to the Nyeberian Empire during the Cataclysmic War, a world war. It was a long and harsh time for all the peoples of Paragore. But, once the war was over the Reclaimers Army brought about the Eternal Accords, a document that laid out laws that all nations agree upon. As a final act, the Reclaimers disbanded and formed the Order of Brass. The Order works tirelessly to safeguard the principles outlined in the Eternal Accords.

“Almost overnight science, alchemy, and magic were all revolutionized. The cooperation of different cultures, and the sharing of ideas allowed for never before dreamed of prosperity. Until that point, the elves, for example, believed it appropriate to shoot members of any other race who entered our woods. We saw them as nothing more than intruders. The gnomes are the ones who are truly responsible for the advancements of the modern age though. Their technological creations will always astound me. Does any of that sound familair?”

“No,” Ian said with a roll of his eyes. Why who’d have thought elves used to be rude? With your oh so charming disposition.

The lecture ended and Ian turned his attention back to the forest. At almost regular intervals were sprawling trees in large clearings. They somewhat reminded him of trees that he’d seen in New Orleans. The ancient oaks that lined walkways and lawns throughout the old plantations. And these ancient goliaths put those prestigious trees to shame. Huge boughs were coated in draping vines and moss, the sheer weight causing the limbs to droop towards the forest floor. The trunk that held those heavy limbs was thicker than any tree Ian had ever seen, ten people standing arm to arm could’ve fit around its girth. It gave him both a sense of awe and serenity.

Vale explained the tree names even though she had not been asked, and for the most part, they were the same as on Earth. Birch, elm, maple were the ones Ian knew best. The large hulking ones she called Oakalla trees, making Ian suddenly wondered about the origins of the word ‘Oak.’

“I miss Google,” he sighed.

The trees grew steadily taller as they headed into the heart of the forest. They now approached a grove of trees that, to Ian, looked like a solid wall. His shoulders slumped as he realized they would have to go around it because there was not a single break. Then Vale pointed out the entrance to the elven city. Ian saw no difference between the forest around them and the supposed entryway.

Mal melted out of the forest and sat by the space Vale had indicated as the way inside Landorei. Ian used him as a marker but didn’t even spot the gap until he was standing right in front of it. It was only about three feet wide, but the opening extended the entire way into the canopy as far as could be seen. He took a step to the left, then right watching the gap. The cut in the trees disappeared like one of those 3d images in a book unless he was looking directly at it. Vale stopped next to Mal and gave his ears a ruffle of affection before turning towards Ian and gesturing him through the gap.

“After you, Gent. You are now one of the few non-elven denizens of Paragore entrusted with the location of our Ranger’s entrance to the capital.”

Ian was too tired to question why she would entrust him with something of that magnitude. He tossed his walking stick aside and stepped through the gap in the trees.