The river slowly widened, quickly rushing to flood into a lake that formed in the distance. My sphere-like space of awareness now spread far after my recent perception increase, allowing me to 'see' for about half a mile.

As I walked, a massive structure on the left side of the lake quickly came to my attention. I could only sense the front wall, which faced the water. It was a stronghold in every sense of the word.

Continuing forward, the ground changed to a naturally created path; hundreds of moving feet had molded the land. The dirt to the side of the road transitioned into overturned soil where tall crops sprouted, rustling as they moved. The breeze carried the scent of fresh water, brushing through my hair before swirling past to make the plants sway.

Drawing closer to the stronghold, I noticed people moving between the crops. A woman stood on the road, overlooking their work, her hair softly swishing in the wind. I sensed her body tense as I approached.

She smelled of mana, a scent I had become overly familiar with. It carried electric undertones, almost like the smell of a thunderstorm. I could not describe it with simple words. It was heaviest on her hands—a pulsing movement of arcane force rippled through the air toward the crops.

"Hello," she greeted, and I came to a stop. "We have not seen any new faces for quite a while. What is your business here?"

"I am just a traveler. I seek lodging if this place is accepting," I said. She lowered her hands, and the active mana disappeared. Her hand swirled through the air to signal to someone; I assumed to tell them to take over whatever she was doing.

She began to walk down the road, and I followed. "We do accept amicable visitors who pass this way. How long do you plan to stay?" she asked.

"I am unsure. Most of my travels are not planned," I told the woman.

"Ah, a flighty man," she said, voice lilting. "Moving where the winds direct you." I did not know how to respond, so I just shrugged.

Quietly laughing, she spoke. "I am Aleya, by the way. Would you tell me your name, traveler?"

I debated over whether to tell her my real name. I was no longer in a war-trodden nation, and I did not think my identity could be used against me anymore. On Earth, I had always used my given name in civilian areas. "My name is Cain. What is this place, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It is Drixstead. A fortress that started from a small gathering of people who traveled long to find a suitable place to settle," Aleya began, voice flowing as she told the story. "Years passed as wanderers like yourself joined and built our walls—our protectors." Her voice carried evident love for her home.

The massive gates creaked as they slightly opened as we moved closer, people at the top of the wall immediately letting Aleya in. She paused as we entered, and I stopped beside her.

"Is it not beautiful?" she breathed.

"I would not know," I said. "I am blind." However, it was impressive from what I could tell; the inside was expansive, my perception informing me that many buildings were spread throughout. The ground turned into paved stone, and I could hear many voices ringing out.

Aleya whipped her head to look at me, hair fluttering over her shoulder. "I could not tell. A blind traveler, you say? How intriguing you become." She walked off, not allowing me to respond. I followed after her once again, feeling like a baby duck.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I am taking you to the patriarch. He meets with every new person who comes into our walls." Aleya was silent after that, leading me to a large building attached to a wall, its height more than I could tell.

We walked up many stairs, the building deathly silent except for our footsteps that echoed off the stone walls. I felt compelled to keep any further questions unsaid as an uneasy reverence fell over our assent; it was suffocating and unwelcome.

A long hallway was our last stretch—I assumed it was within an outer wall. Aleya knocked on the wooden doors at the end of it before opening one and ushering me inside.

"I leave you here," she told me. "Perhaps I will see you later." With that, she quickly closed the door.

I turned towards the room, which had a desk as its centerpiece. A man stood from his seat behind it, moving towards me.

"Welcome to Drixstead, friend! I am Patriarch Davion.” He greeted, his voice rough with age. He grabbed my hand to shake it, his grip crushing. "What brings you this way?"

I flexed my hand as I responded. "I am just a traveler." I paused, debating. Then, I decided that honesty would be best. "I am not from this world; I'm just trying to find my place in this land."

Davion leaned against his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat. His voice was filled with surprise, saying, "I see. I've heard of your type, but did not expect to see one in my life. We welcomed you in.'

"Then there are no others like me here?" I asked, slightly disappointed. I couldn't help myself. Familiarity was something that humans craved.

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"No, I'm sorry to say," he told me. It made me remember something I had questioned before. How big must this world be?

"Why just me?" I asked, hoping Davion would know.

He pondered the questions, humming. "I don't completely understand. How many people were on this 'Earth'?"

"Over seven billion."

Davion laughed, a short sound. "Ha! This world would not be able to hold that many. God would have no doubt spread your people over many planets."

"Who is this god you keep mentioning?" I asked. I had never been religious, and it seemed the patriarch believed this deity to be the cause of the aptly named 'drop.'

The patriarch was gentle with his words as if teaching a young child. "I don't know how many times I've been able to spread the word of our savior; it is quite the blessing. The magnificent Fevdohr—God of The Planets and Stars—is the creator of the status. He gifted his creation to this planet, but I could not say the same for other worlds."

I nodded my head. "There was no system on my planet."

Davion acknowledged my words before moving on. "I see. Well, even a God is in need of materials for their creations, so Fevdohr takes them from the universe. That is why I suspect you are here; no other reason than God needing your planet. He is a kind God, however, sparing inhabitants and moving them to other worlds. It has happened before, and it will no doubt happen again."

"When I first arrived here, a message said it happened according to the 'Planetary Amalgamation Compendium' if I remember correctly. What is that?" I asked.

"Fevdohr has told us that it is his guidebook," Davion told me, benign. "He created it himself, saying it is to help him be a kinder God to us—even if he has already achieved perfection."

I thought it over, wondering if this old man was just spouting delusions. It was a probable possibility, however, that it was not fake; this world was already fantastical, and a god would explain much. I would not ask Davion to explain how he knew his words were valid. His answers would most likely be vague, with intense devotion and religious belief never making much sense to anyone but the believer.

"Thank you for answering my questions," I said, trying to sound sincere.

"It is my pleasure," Davion responded. "Drixstead welcomes you and your two companions." I paused, my body tensing. The pyromaniac, who had been swinging his legs as he sat on the desk, halted his movements.

I swallowed, trying to soothe my dry throat. "You can see them?" I asked, my voice hoarse. Davion stood, moving around his desk.

"No, I cannot. They are not visible, of course." Of course. What was so obvious? I could not understand his casually said words. "I can sense them, as all experienced mages can."

Were my hallucinations semi-real? My jaw clenched as my hands tightened on the chair's arms.

"How can you sense them? They are not real," I stated, trying to convince myself.

Davion seemed to frown, his voice dropping. "Why do you believe that? Are they not creations of your magic?"

I shook my head, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "They are creations of my mind and were present before I came to this world. Earth had no mana."

"Then how do you explain them, if they are not magic?" Davion asked, filled with confusion.

"It was called schizophrenia—a disorder in the brain. Hallucinations and altered perceptions can be symptoms." I knew too much about the subject, sometimes finding I could perfectly quote specific articles. My head ached, still shaken from Davion's casual revelation.

The priest moved closer to the patriarch, curiously looking down at the man as he folded his hands.

"What an odd phenomenon," Davion murmured. "Perhaps you have been unconsciously moving your mana to where you perceive them to be? I have never heard of illness in the mind." He paused, ruminating.

"Well," he said, directly addressing me, "It would be best if you made them leave while you are here. There are others here who will be able to sense them."

I sighed, lifting my hands. "I do not control them. They come and go subconsciously." The pyromaniac crossed his arms as if he was refusing to leave. On the other hand, the priest politely bowed his head before moving towards me; then, he disappeared.

"If there is nothing you can do, it cannot be helped," Davion said, standing. I stood as well. "I have learned something new, and you have as well. I foresee your stay here will be fruitful, Cain." I did not ask how he knew my name despite the fact that I had never given it to him. He also hadn't questioned my blindness, even though I was sure he had noticed.

"Come," he directed, "I will lead you back to Aleya, who is still near. She will take you to your lodging."

It seemed abrupt, the way he shuffled me out. The pyromaniac followed beside me, incessantly muttering as he rolled his lighter. Davion chuckled as if he could hear and understand his words as well.

He led me back down the stairs, opening the door to find Aleya standing outside. The patriarch turned towards me, placing his hand on my shoulder.

"We must talk again," he planned. "I would like to… pick your brain, if I may. I do believe you have more questions as well." I nodded my head as he squeezed my shoulder overly tight.

He swiftly departed, disappearing into the building with a burst of wind as the door shut. Aleya then turned away, directing me to follow her. She led me to a simple structure, and as we walked in, I pegged it as a hotel of sorts.

It had a large, open ground floor with a counter near the entrance that Aleya moved behind, as no one was currently manning it. She scribbled down something before grabbing an object from the top.

This stronghold seemed like a tight-knit community, with familiarity and casual confidence letting Aleya move around in a building I assumed she did not own.

"Come," she directed. "I've assigned you to an empty room for however long you stay." Then, under her breath, she muttered, "All the rooms are empty, so it shouldn't matter which one, right?"

She led me up stairs that were slightly hidden next to the back wall, then moved down a hallway to the end on the upper floor. She pushed a key into the last door, opening it and ushering me inside.

"You can stay here. I'll let the inn owners know you are in this room, and they will probably let you join them for meals. I don't know what you'll do in Drixstead, but people are expected to contribute to earn their keep," Aleya said, voice firm.

"Come find me anytime. I usually work in the fields, but you can just ask for me, and others will usually know where I am." She paused, breathing out. "I think that is all. Welcome to Drixstead, Cain." And then she was gone.

I placed my bag on a bed in the corner, removing the cheap leather armor I had almost forgotten. There was much to think about. I learned a lot today, some information only leading to more questions. I could only think of this place as a trove of answers where deities and magic ran amok, common as a blade of grass.