I awoke in faint light, barely able to make out my surroundings.

“Drink this,” I heard someone say, faintly. Cool liquid was poured into my mouth, which I drank greedily, forgetting myself in my thirst. It tasted of mint, and dirt. The person giving me the drink took it away before I’d had my fill.

“You can have more later. It wouldn’t do to give you an upset stomach as well.”

I tried to make out the face of my benefactor, still half-asleep and unremembering. I thought at first it was Tom, so I said, “Thanks, Tom,” with a weak voice.

Someone else laughed. There was someone else in the room. “He must have taken quite the blow to the head. He’s been calling you Tom all night.”

“He’s just disoriented,” said not-Tom, who now, coming into greater focus, appeared to be a woman. “He’ll be fine. And he’ll have learned a valuable lesson.”

The other party scoffed.

In a flash, I remembered. Tom gone. Need money. Different dimension. I tried to blink away the fog.

I was in a tent, I supposed. A large tent, but not necessarily a nice one. Piles of blankets on the ground showed me that many people slept here, at times. The remains of a fire sat nearby, still warm and glowing. A flap hung over the doorway, slightly eschewed, letting in the faint sunlight - the only light in the room. There was little else inside, besides a few small piles of clothes and belongings.

“Who,” I tried to say, but started coughing. I was offered the drink again, and took it. The woman who handed it to me was middle-aged, wearing a deep tan and worn robes. She was attractive, or had been once, but the years had not been kind to her. Hardship had kept her lean, however. Too lean. Malnourished.

I tried again. “Where am I?” I asked.

“Hell,” said the other voice. I looked over.

There was a young man there, probably a couple of years younger than myself. College-aged, I guess you would say. He stood against one of the wooden pillars that held up the tent, which I hadn’t noticed before. Apparently these pillars were at least sturdy enough for him to lean his weight against it. He stood there, arms crossed, gazing down at my benefactor and I.

He was thin and wiry, but muscular. That sort of sinewy muscle that comes from hard labor and few meals. His hair was short, and cut jaggedly, as if with a knife. Brown hair, and green eyes which glared at the woman with a fiery hatred. He had a harsh face of points and edges, but not ugly.

“Don’t mind him,” the woman said, and her voice soured. “He should be getting his lazy butt to work, but instead he’s decided to stand around here and complain.”

“Work for what? My pittance? What’s the point, mother?”

“The point is staying alive.”

The man shook his head, but said no more about it.

I knew better than to get involved with family spats. “Who are you?” I asked. “Why am I here?” My mind was still catching up with the previous day’s events.

“Oh, I’m sorry about all of that,” the woman said, her voice suddenly sweet. “I was just about to tell you, before my son here distracted me.” She shot the man a glance. “My name is Anwyl, and this is my dear son Cadoc. I don’t imagine he’ll bother saying hello to you.”

“My mother shames me without cause. I am happy to greet you, traveler. What are you called?”

I suddenly remembered something.

“What happened to the woman? And her child.”

“The child is dead,” Anwyl said. “Probably dead before she even came to the gate. The woman was crazy. She’ll come to terms with her loss, poor soul. I think she’s working now, like this one should be.”

We were all quiet for a little while. Eventually, I remembered I had been asked a question.

“Miles,” I said. “My name is Miles James.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“A traveler named Miles,” the man said, as if to himself. “Either your parents knew your future well, or you are giving me a false name.”

“It’s my real name,” I said. “Take it or leave it.”

“I will take it. I meant no offense. Were you called Path or Distance or Journey, I would still admire your courage. To answer your other question, you are here because the guard did not wish to lower himself to kill you, and we could not watch as a hero died of thirst in the street.”

Now it was Anwyl’s turn to scoff. “More like we couldn’t let a fool die at our doorstep. If the guard had chosen to kill you, you’d be buried by now - if anyone even bothered to bury you. Be thankful that Seisyll spared you, so that you may learn the error of your ways.”

“Seisyll didn’t spare him. The guard did.”

“Do not speak another word to me, Cadoc. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Who is Seisyll?” I asked.

Anwyl’s eyes lit up, while Cadoc groaned.

“Seisyll is our patron, god of peace. He has surely spared you so that you may learn the lessons of peace, and never again pick impossible fights.”

I thought about that. Is it possible that this world contains a pantheon of gods? Or perhaps some sort of mighty beings that may as well be gods? I suppose it is a different dimension, so maybe. I’ll have to be careful.

“Do not fill his ears with such things, Mother. Did you not hear him? ‘Who is Seisyll?’ he said. A man of his bravery does not even know the existence of such a god. Seisyll’s peace has no place in him.”

If I knew better than to get involved in a family spat, I also knew I wanted nothing to do with a religious dispute. I interrupted them both before the argument turned any hotter. “Thank you both. You have been a great help. But I have nothing I can give to repay you.”

“Speak nothing of it,” Cadoc said. “A hero deserves nothing less.” He seemed to like hearing himself talk, and spoke in an almost grand way, compared to the speech of his mother. I wondered where he picked it up from.

“A fool deserves nothing more,” Anwyl muttered. “And I don’t see why we couldn’t ask him for some help…”

“Help? You wish to send him to the fields, so that he may earn another pittance for us to add to our coffers. But after he feeds himself, what will be left? Besides, my honor will not allow it. To force a man with his spirit into servitude would bring shame on our family like it has never known, even in our current, degraded state.”

Cadoc talked about me like I had slain a dragon, rather than assaulted a police officer. I don’t know how I made such a good impression, but I guess I’ll take it. I’m just happy I don’t owe anyone more money. Although I should do something.

I spoke quickly again, trying to stop the arguing.

“I have some food I could share,” I said. I don’t really love the idea of losing it, but… “Where is my backpack? Did someone grab it?”

“It is here,” Cadoc replied. He brought the bag over to me, where I was lying on the floor, in a pile of rags. “No one has opened it. I made sure of that.” He shot a look at his mother, as if he suspected that she would have stolen from me, if she could have. Is that why he stayed here, instead of working? Does he have so low of an opinion of his own mother?

I opened the pack, and took out a handful of MREs. The pack was full of them, but I still grimaced internally at the idea of giving food away. But they did save my life.

“This is food,” I said. “It tastes terrible, but it will give you strength.” I handed a few to Anwyl, and a few to Cadoc.

They turned the packages over in their hands, gawking. “What strange food,” Anwyl said. “I’ve never seen anything like it. You must come from very far away, traveler.”

“Well, they’re not-“ open yet, I almost said, but before I could finish, Cadoc took a bite out of a corner of the packaging of one MRE.

“You weren’t lying about the taste, friend,” he said, chewing on a bit of plastic. “And the texture is atrocious.”

I had to stop myself from laughing. I stopped him, and, at length, showed them both how to open the packaging and eat what was inside. I told them to set aside the food heaters, telling them it was not edible - that was easier than explaining how they worked to them. Especially since I didn’t know how they worked in the first place. We shared an impromptu meal there, on the floor.

“I think I preferred the wrapper,” Cadoc said during the meal. Anwyl and I both laughed.

“Mother,” Cadoc said, as the meal was coming to a close. “May you fetch our guest some more water?”

“The son asking the mother to go fetch water,” Anwyl muttered. “What kind of boy have I raised?” But she left all the same, leaving the tent with a pail in one hand.

“Now then,” Cadoc said, as soon as his mother had left. “Down to business.”

That sounds ominous.

“You aren’t interested in my life story, so I won’t give it to you. You see the squalor we live in. I am ashamed of it, but here we are. I want out. Take me with you.”

I blinked. What?

Cadoc must have noticed my surprise. “I do not ask for much. Only that you let me accompany you when you leave these slums. I cannot continue to live like this. My spirit cries out for freedom.”

“But,” I said, searching for the words. “But I don’t even know where I am going in the first place. I wanted to enter Eraztun, but I think you saw how that went.”

Cadoc laughed heartily. “Indeed I did. What a show! You will have to tell me about that weapon you tried to use, someday. But anyway, that is exactly why you are my best hope of getting out of this hell. You wanted in, and so you fought for it. You lost, but you tried, you struggled against your fate. That is more than can be said for this family.” He spat. “Wherever it is you end up, I wish to follow. Though I have a request.”

My mind was struggling to catch up. This man saved my life - or his mother did, I’m still unsure - but do I really want him following me around? Can I trust him? On the other hand, it would be a huge help to have someone on my team who is native to this dimension, who can help steer me away from danger. He might even know where to get some money - although I suspect he wouldn’t be living here if he did. Actually…

“Have you seen another foreigner recently? Like me, carrying a weapon like mine. He would probably also be wearing extremely strange armor, armor you would never have seen in your life.”

“A friend of yours?” Cadoc asked. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Yesterday was the first time I’ve ever seen such a weapon. But it would be easy to miss someone in such a crowd, even a man as strange as that.”

I hadn’t been expecting much. Well, I thought. Why not? If I can’t take Tom’s lead, maybe I can at least take Cadoc’s lead, sometimes. But I doubt he’ll stick around long, when he realizes how clueless I really am.

“I’m traveling for two reasons,” I said, holding up two fingers. “One is to find this man, Tom. It is extremely important that I find him. I can’t say more about why. The second reason is that I am in massive debt to people that I have to repay. So, I am looking for ways to make money.”

“Perfect,” Cadoc said. “Absolutely perfect. You seek money, I seek power. Are these not two sides of the same coin? Does not money stem from power? We have common cause. I must join you. That was my request: that you help me gain power.”

I sighed. The more he talks, the more I think he might be more trouble than he’s worth. Very pushy.

“What do you mean, power?”

“I mean power, friend. My family rots in this hovel because we are weak. Because we do not fight. I seek the power to claim my place in the world. My parents have forbidden me the use of magic, but that is why I must leave. Only magic can grant me my wish.”

I shook my head. I really do need a guide. I can always leave him behind if his power stuff gets too heavy. What else am I supposed to do? Wander around begging for money?

“Fine,” I said. “You can join me, if you promise to help me on my mission. In exchange, I will do what I can to help you grow in power. I imagine I might need some more power myself.”

“Then it is decided. We start now.” From seemingly out of nowhere, Cadoc drew a large knife.