Adam woke from his dream. It was one of the best experiences of his life. He was covered in a sheet of burlap, like the stuff they used to make potato bags, rough and scratchy. His bed was nothing more than a double layer of the same thing, laid directly on bare dirt. There was no pillow. Still, he was refreshed and renewed in a way that he could barely describe. It was what waking up should always have been like, but so rarely was.

He'd been sleeping in some kind of tent, made of the same material as his bedding. The walls were thin enough, or loosely woven enough, to let in a little light. Adam could see someone sitting near his feet, apparently unbothered by the dirt. The stranger held a small knife in one hand, a chunk of wood in the other. It had been carved just enough to suggest the outline of a human face but without enough detail to look like an actual person.

Adam smiled, almost surprised by his good mood. "Is that going to be me, when you're done?" he asked as he sat up. The other guy, younger than Adam but too old to be called a kid, looked confused. Adam pointed at the half-carved block of wood. The stranger's expression went from confused to embarrassed. He slipped the knife and the block into a small, leather pouch on his waist, then he was up and out of the tent before Adam realized what was happening.

Alone, Adam took a moment to examine his surroundings. Even with the dim light, it didn't take long. He was naked, but there was a small bundle of clothes near his sleeping mat. They were similar to the burlap but more tightly woven, softer and less scratchy. Just a simple pair of loose-fitting pants and a sleeveless shirt, long enough to almost reach his knees. The whole thing was held together by a thin cord of rope that wove in and out of several slots in the pants and the shirt, as well as supporting an empty leather pouch. Adam dressed quickly, then turned his thoughts towards the dream.

This wasn't his world. He was here by accident, but welcome. There were four gods. They had created the world in concert, but the majority of their power was tied into that creation. There was something wrong with the world. It was far more hostile than it was meant to be. Adam couldn't stop himself from shuddering as he remembered the wolves.

"Help me."

The Four couldn't directly aid their creations without using the power that maintained the world. Instead, they gave blessings, customized to each and every person that was intelligent and aware enough to receive them. Testing for that quality had been the dream. Adam smiled, comforted by the memory, the sense of certainty that it provided.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Adam Anthony

Level: One

Primary Class: Healer

Primary Skill: Barrier

A thought was all it took to conjure the information. A brief effort of will, and Adam had a white disk floating in front of him. He reached out to touch it, firm, cool. He felt it against the tip of his finger and he could feel his finger through the barrier. Weird, but not unpleasant. Adam spent a few minutes playing with his new Skill, dismissing and summoning it again, fixing it in space and relative to him. It was fascinating, at once intuitive and something he felt he understood more as he experimented. The shape and size seemed unchanging, but he felt he could change that with time and practice.

”Ah, you’re awake. Good!” Another stranger had arrived while Adam was playing with his Skill. He was bigger and older than the last, with a friendly smile and calloused hands. “I’m Headman Tomarillion. Call me Tom.”

Adam blinked, surprised at the odd name, strange and familiar all at once. “Adam, uh, Adam Anthony.” They shook, Tom’s hand was warm, with a little dirt. “It’s nice to meet you, but how can I… How do you…” Adam gave up and just let it out. “You’re speaking English, but this isn’t Earth.”

Tom nodded, still smiling but more serious. “So the Warden was right. You’re an Otherworlder.”

”I guess. If that’s what you call it. The Four told me that I came here, that this wasn’t my world.”

”Huh, so the Warden was right, again. That was a Class dream.” Tom said.

”Yeah, I’m a level one Healer-“

”No!” Tom shouted, “That’s- You don’t tell me that. You don’t tell anyone. It isn’t right.”

”What?” Adam asked, taken aback, “Why not? It’s just my blessing. Everyone has one, right?”

”May the Expert give me grace.” Tom sighed. “Yes. We usually get our class dream when we’re around three or four years old. Kids tell their parents, and the parents help guide the kid through their early levels. But they, but you, never tell anyone else. Maybe your wife or something like that. It’s a sign of trust, maybe the strongest one possible. If you tell someone your class and level, you’re giving them insight into who you are in a way that… that nothing else can match. You’re making yourself vulnerable in a profound way.”

Adam thought about this for some time, but, in the end, decided he just didn’t know enough to judge. “It still seems strange to me, sharing, working together, it just makes sense.” Tom started to say something, but Adam kept going. “But I get it, this isn't my world, much less my hometown. I guess, just let me know if I'm doing something weird. If I'm rude, I promise it's not on purpose. Just, can you..."

"Don't worry, son. We'll give you as much help as we can." There was a quiet certainty in Tom's voice, something Adam desperately needed to hear. "Now, you can keep resting if you need it. Healer knows you had a rough start of it, but would you like to take a look around the town?"

"Yeah, I think so."