Prologue

The Thorn in My Heart

I watched through tired eyes as my friend threw her guts up into the trashcan beside the bar. “C’mon Libby, this can’t be healthy.” I helped her up, her weak legs too shaky to lift her anymore. I placed her arm over my shoulder and placed enough money to pay for her last drink. “Sorry about the mess.” I apologized to the bartender. He gave us a thumbs up. “Eh, it’s nothing special. I’ll toss the bag and close up for the night now that she’s done.”

Together we wobbled out into the parking lot. Dark and devoid of any cars save mine and the bartender’s, the snow still was coming down, and I would likely need to hit my car’s door to break whatever ice built up while we were inside. “Uhp. Fanks Dan.” She nearly vomited again. “It’s not a problem for me Libby, but you really shouldn’t be drinking this much, let alone on a Tuesday night. “It’s Wedsday murning, akktually.” I shook my head and helped rest her back on the side of the car.

“AH! It’s cold!” Her scream pierced through the winter air’s stillness... Jeez, even through that thick leather coat she wore, she still felt the chill of the cold metal? “Sorry, about that, just give me a sec and I’ll get the car and heat on.” With a quick rap on the door, the ice cracked, and I unlocked it.

“Mmmmhhhh.” Libby sat in the passenger’s seat with all the heat vents blasting her. The snow continued to fall faster and faster. Even with the wipers going at full speed, it was hard to see through the windshield, let alone see through the storm of snow blowing all around us. “You’ll be able to get up alright in the morning, right? You’re not going to sleep, and be late to your job, right?” Libby lazily lifted her hand and jankily moved it back and forth. “Itz algood, I didn’t want to go in tomorrow anyway.”

That wasn’t what I asked. “Libby, if you don’t promise me you’ll get up on your own, I’m going to stay at your house and make you get up in the morning.” Her face cringed. “Noooo… I don’t wanna. You can’t stayyyyy.” It would have been one thing if she had planned to call off, or even notify her coworkers, but the truth was that she was just going to fail to show up and make everyone else wonder what was wrong (she got wasted the night before, again.)

…And so, we arrived back safely. By the time morning hit, the snow had piled up halfway past the windows and according to my boss the power had gone out in the entire town. Luckily for Libby, that meant it was just about impossible for anyone to go to work, including myself. That morning the two of us ate a breakfast consisting of cereal. I preferred my cereal dry, but Libby preferred hers soaked.

Not with milk, mind you, no, that would be too healthy for her, too sensible. Instead, Libby opened two wine coolers and mixed them into the bowl. “Dear God Libby, why?” Surely, she must have felt hungover, no, she threw up last night! How could she just start her day with more stuff that’s bound to have her puking again!? “I don’t like getting drunk, but I like the flavor and it goes well with the cereal.” I was aghast.

To call Libby someone who wasn’t very orderly or clean was an understatement. The most she could manage to do was to put on business casual when she drug herself into the office she worked at. Outside of that was pure chaos. Dishes were piled high in her sink, empty bottles and crushed cans of alcohol littered all throughout her kitchen and were sprinkled throughout the halls, and even worse was the smell.

Some mix mildew and decaying fruit. Around the trashcan in her kitchen flies swarmed and made horrendous buzzing. The one time I had been in her room I had seen leftover to-go containers and uncleaned clothes scattered about the room. I had visited her house a week ago, and that had been the third time I had cleaned up her house this month. I understood it could be hard to clean up after yourself when you lived all on your own, I could even understand wanting to go out drinking when you had no one else to go with, but so far her habits were only getting worse, not better. I drew the line at alcoholic cereal.

I got up, swiped her bowl off the table, and chucked it into the sink. “Hey!” She got up. I looked her in the eyes. “Libby, what is wrong with you!? You don’t take care of your house, you hate going into work, and you keep drinking like someone’s going to ban alcohol the next day!” When she graduated and got her job at the office she worked at, she was ecstatic. With patience and hard effort, she paid off her debts, and put down a deposit on her first house. She had a home, she made good money and had people that depended on her at her work.

Why did she let it all slip away? I could never understand how she lived like she should be dead when she had a life worth living. “I hate it all Dan.” Her eyes drooped and her face fell. “The work is horrible; the people are horrible. I don’t want to do it anymore.” Libby and I attended the same college. We were in different fields, but we both commuted there, and had met at the commuter’s lounge. Among the commuters and those that graduated within our year, I was the only one besides Libby that still lived in town.

“What is so bad about the work? Boring work is good work, and you’ve always known how to make friends with others. What’s changed?” During college she spent countless hours at parties and attending different functions, some of which she planned herself. “Nothing’s changed, they weren’t my friends, I was always popular, but you were the one everyone liked.”

I frowned. “So you won’t even bother trying to talk with them? Not even send them a message? If you don’t talk with anyone-" Before I could finish, she shoved me and began screaming. “Shut up! They were all stupid idiots and everyone at my job’s mean! It’s boring and dumb and stupid and I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!” She ran past me towards the door. “Libby what are you doing!?” I rushed after her, only to slip on one of the bottles on the floor. Was she having a mental breakdown!?

On the floor, I scrambled forward after her. She made it down the hallway, past her bedroom, and slammed open the house’s front door. From the dim hallway, now standing tall, I could see a blinding light reflecting off the snow. I ran down the hallway, jumping over bottle after bottle, until I reached the opened door. It was then that I realized the snow had been high enough to partially cover the windows. I shouldn’t have been able to see out past it. Unable to stop myself, I rammed into what I thought was going to be snow. Instead, a wave of vertigo washed over me as I plummeted straight into a brown and orange blanket of fallen leaves.

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

Was this what is meant by ‘trying to escape from reality?’ I found myself in a barren, soundless forest. Trees without leaves, thorn filled bushes that looked withered and cracked, and an ocean of leaves ranging in color from muddy orange to dead brown. I whistled. The most I could gather was that I was in a valley of some kind, with large hills surrounding me off in the distance. Straining my ears, I could just barely hear the babbling of a brook.

The wind picked up and scattered a few leaves around. Other than that, the forest seemed completely empty of life. I could hear no birds chirping, nor were any of the leaves bitten or smashed. “Follow water, I suppose.” But would Libby think to do the same? I wandered towards the faint babbling and was rewarded with the sight of a gentle stream of water.

I trudged in the direction of what seemed to be ‘down’ and drank in the sight of dead trees. Either Libby walked through the light and was brought here, or she continued to run out into the snow. Did she make the light herself somehow? Was she secretly magic or something? Or was that strange light some sort of cosmic happenstance? Assuming the former, assuming she came wherever ‘here’ was, I needed to find her. Tracking her down though, was easier said than done.

Why did I not appear with her? Was the difference in our timing? Or was the destination simply random? After a few minutes of traversing the flat, leafy scenery, I arrived at the edge of a lake. Filling the lake was stagnant, gray water. It was dark, dreary, and by no means seemed something one should drink.

Seeming proof of my fears drifted into my view of the water. A small, humanoid creature coated in brown feathers, or perhaps leaves laid face up, unmoving only carried by some subtle current. If I had to guess, the poor thing had taken a drink from the water, became ill, and fell into the water. Still, it was a strange thing. I didn’t like the idea of holding a water-logged cadaver, but I had never seen a… bird(?) like it.

I bent over and scooped up the creature. Soaked to the bone, I took a closer look at its form. Covered in a cloak made of dead leaves, it clearly had arms and legs, though only its hands and feet were truly exposed. From beneath the head of its cloak, I could also make out a face, with one eye open, white, and glossed over, and the other simply was a hole in its socket. Altogether its skin was a pale mix of greens and yellows where it wasn’t milk white. Its hair too, though long, was coarse and brittle, and a shade dark brown, bordering on black.

Flipping it over, I found it had a pair of butterfly wings protruding through its cloak out its back, both made of gossamer and riddled with tears and holes. With my free hand, gently poked the wispy, clear wings. “…!” It twitched! I turned it over again and looked into its eye. Still wide open, I slowly waved a finger from it. None of my movements could cause it to stir.

Cupping its head and lower legs, I raised the creature’s body towards my ear. With a gulp of courage, I placed its mouth as close to my ear as I could. Worries that this was some creature that liked to eat brains or otherwise had parasites feeding on its decaying body surged through my mind. Immediately those doubts were blown away the moment I felt the subtle tickle of its breath on my ear.

It wasn’t choked, but it wasn’t entirely smooth either. Congested was probably the best word for it. What could I do to clear its throat? Should I tap on its tiny back? [Acquire First Aid Skill] [Y/N]? Floating words, semi-permeable, appeared before me. For a moment, I closed my eyes, took a breath, and huffed out a sigh. “Yes, please do.” The ‘Y’ flashed a rainbow hue and another message appeared. [Selection Confirmed!] and promptly disappeared.

The world changed hue and looked as though it had a vintage filter applied to it. In my hands words flashed around the creature.

[First Aid Level Insufficient For Detailed Analysis]

[Throat Semi-Clogged]

[Suggested: Apply Repeated Pressure To Upper Back]

I did as it suggested, and gently tapped the creature’s back.

[Addendum: Administer Carbon Dioxide And Oxygen Mix To Oral Cavity]

I’m sorry? What?

[PS: Administer Carbon Dioxide And Oxygen Mix To Oral Cavity]

That’s not the part I was hung up on!

[PS: Perform Mouth To Mouth Resuscitation]

Try again!

[PS: Do CPR]

That’s the one! Wait…! I looked at the creature… It smelled like mildew and was slimy from the pond water. Picking it up had been one thing but… No, that’s fine. In for a penny, in for a pound and all that jazz. If this so-called text prompt thinks it’s a good idea, I’ll go along with it.

A few moments later… *cough cough hack!* The small creature expelled some dark liquid and returned to stillness. Her condition did not overtly improve, but her chest was rising easily now. [Skill Up!] [First Aid: Level 2] Hmmm. I was certain now. Before I had suspected, but between the magical instructions and the creature’s wings, I was sure. She was a fairy. A pixie, or perhaps even a sprite of some kind.

[Acquire Monster Identification Skill] [Y/N]?

Again? Could I just acquire just any skill I wanted?

[Yesn’t]

Ok, sure. That makes sense.

[Y Selected!]

Wait no I meant…! Well, I couldn’t tell anyways what the metric for getting a skill was, or if there was any associated cost, so I couldn’t really complain. “What monster is she?”

[Family: Fae]

[Species: Fairy]

That’s pretty vague. I guess it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect much out of a skill I just got.

[You’re Pretty Easy Going, Aren’t You?]

What!?

[Victory!]

[Prevented A Fairy From Dying]

[it is now bound to you]

What!?

What does that mean!? I sighed and picked up the fairy from the ground where it rested. It was still wet and ice cold. I didn’t need magic text to tell me what it needed next. I sat on the ground and put the fairy under my shirt, holding it as close as I could to my chest. Like a block of ice, my body shivered at its touch. “Alright magic skill buddy, how long till it’s warm again?”

[First Aid: A Day Or Two?]

Do, do you not know?

[First Aid: A Day Or Two]

How capricious. I tried shifting my right hand, to better position the fairy, only to have my skin get tugged. “…Oh.” With a vice grip, the fairy dug its hands into the center of my chest. Its legs too were seemingly stuck fast as well.

[it is now bound to you]

I shook my head as I rose up. “How convenient. At least I can continue my search without having this friend fall from me. Is there anything else that threatens its life, oh silly skill text?”

[Fairy Vitals: Improving]

That was no small relief to me. I scratched the back of my head. “Jeesh, Libby, just what in the world would you say if you saw me now?” The entire situation was like a fantasy book or video game. She liked some of the more popular video games but was never one for reading or learning the lore behind most fantasy. “Libby, are you going to be ok out here?”

I said it almost hoping the text buddy would reply, even if it was just a vague platitude. Maybe if I get enough levels, I’ll unlock a GPS tracking system?

Eh?

Eh?

[No Comment]

Ey there we go!

I surveyed my surroundings again. On the other edge of the lake was a cabin that blended in among the hibernating trees. Smoke rose from a chimney made of pale red bricks. I patted my chest. “Welp little fairy, seems we should pay a visit to this woodsman.”