“So what do you have on your plate today?”

Shin continued to braid the hair of the kobold in front of him as he considered the cheerful question from the kobold who stood behind him. “Hm. Leaping blindly into the wild unknown, I suppose. How about you?”

“Oh, pretty much the same!” The friendly kobold smiled as he deftly tied back Shin’s hair. “Gotta shape and dry a bunch of tile. We're working on a new Tower to keep watch on the docks!”

“Hm. That sounds tough, Nao.”

"Is it ever! I'm definitely stiff as a piece of tile myself by the time I finish work."

"I'll bet." After a moment, Shin raised his voice again. “Wanna trade?”

“No thanks!”

Goddess, Shin was going to miss this. His quarters at the top of the Central Tower had bedchambers, but he’d quickly decided it best to sleep in the traditional Giant Ball of Kobolds that formed a few floors down every night instead. Lording over the others in his special Biggest Boss territory that no one else got to sleep in was far too mongrel, after all, and Shin had already been a little wary of the deference his fellow villagers had tried to show him.

So while it may have been overstating the issue to claim that familiarity breeds contempt, it stood to reason that one might be less inclined to bow and scrape to someone if they slept with their butt directly in that someone’s face.

And by all accounts, the gambit had been a rousing success. No one tried to call him ‘Lord Shin’ anymore, no one attempted to awkwardly correct their manners in his presence, and no one tried to apologize for inconveniencing him or any other such nonsense. Though he suspected that, in casting aside any lordly affectations, he had ultimately cemented his vaunted position in the hearts of his neighbors.

He knew what they were thinking when they saw him sweeping the path to the Shrine or tending to the fish, knew what they were saying when they pointed him out to their friends and whispered to one another. ‘That’s our leader; look how humble he is! He clears away leaves and knows our childrens’ names! Let’s follow him even more blindly than we otherwise might have!’ Was a performative lack of haughtiness really just another type of haughtiness? Shin had a suspicion that it might be.

Well whatever. Shin liked it, and if that occasionally made him feel like an imposter then so be it. He liked that his friends and neighbors simultaneously treated him with affectionate familiarity and seemed to think that everything that came out of his mouth was pure genius. He liked sleeping in a giant ball of kobolds, too. But what he especially liked was the morning communal grooming, each member of the freshly risen dogpile circling up to untangle and then ceremoniously knot the long hair of their neighbors. It just felt right; it reinforced the feeling that this was his home, and these were his people.

When he’d last left home, enough of them had gone along to keep the practice up, but it wouldn’t really work this time. Sure, he supposed that he and Momo would tend to each other’s hair in the morning, but it wasn’t at all the same with just two. Bittercup had been growing closer to Shinki Itten and its citizens, but not this close. And unlike nearly every other kobold, Gero and her fellow warriors kept their hair close cropped. Apparently lengthy hair-tying rituals weren’t feasible for someone who needed to be prepared for all-out war to break out at any time.

It was as convincing an argument for peace as Shin had ever heard.

Well, there was no sense dawdling any longer. Shin bid farewell to his sleep mates as they filed out to start their day, raising a hand to Mimasu when he spotted the scribe waiting for him in the hallway. “Is everything prepared?”

Mimi quickly scanned a page of notes, then nodded. “Yes, everything checks out.”

“We’re traveling light, but I can’t help feeling as if we’re forgetting something.” Shin pondered that for a moment as the two kobolds started down the tower’s grand staircase, distractedly nodding to the other villagers who greeted him as they passed. “We’ve got a gift for King Majesty, right? Didn’t we agree that kings probably expect gifts?”

“We did,” Mimasu confirmed, flipping forward in his notes. “The Council had some trouble deciding on what gift, though.”

“Oh right. I still think he’d like a koi.”

“I bet he would!” the scribe agreed.

Shin considered the idea for a moment. “Finding a way to transport a foot-long fish across unknown and probably dangerous territory would be tough, though.”

Mimi nodded. “Very true.”

“Also even if we did manage the task, it might be a little rude?” Shin lifted his hands, adopting a lilting tone. “‘Greetings Your Majesty! You’ve never met us, but we brought you this living responsibility! Hope you’ve got some big-ass ponds!’”

“Hmm.” Mimasu nodded thoughtfully. “That, too, is true.”

“Oh well,” Shin shrugged. “Did the Council ever reach a decision?”

“Bottle of booze!”

“Good enough.”

Shin blinked away the glare of the morning sun as the two kobolds stepped out of the Tower, unable to resist a smile when he noticed the fish being diligently fed by a horde of intensely focused children. At least he didn’t have to worry about this being taken care of while he was away. “Good work!” He called out, basking in the chorus of cheerful greetings he received in return. “Don’t forget to fetch Mister Moots when it’s time to feed the Queen Fish!”

That was another thing Shin would miss about Shinki Itten. Something was absolutely up with that egg he’d caught. The five spectacular koi the children had picked as its guardians tended and nurtured their tender charge with a vigilance that seemed beyond what such simple creatures should be capable of. He hadn’t missed the sparkling, almost diadem-like markings that had begun to form on their piscine brows, either.

Something was going to happen. And it was going to be One, Amazing, and Two, Fish Related. And if he missed it because of this dumb summons? He might wind up burning Magica Kingdom to the damn ground.

“Don’t worry~!” Called out Tama, the little kobold’s cheerful voice cutting through Shin’s funk. “We’ll make extra sure to take care of Grumbo and Prettyfins and Sweetsie and Fishy Fishfishfish and Mister Tinkles!”

Hm. Shin should not have let the children name those fish.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The crowd of children parted to make way for Gero and Momo, the former effortlessly carrying the travel supplies for their trip slung over her shoulder. “So we’re really doing this?” she questioned, “You’re sure this isn’t as terrible an idea as it seems?”

“Not even slightly,” Shin confirmed. “This is almost certainly a trap.”

“Great,” Gero huffed. “Solid pep talk, Shin.”

Bittercup clearly agreed, fussing at the knot of her cloak as she reluctantly followed the two kobold women. “I know I’m pepped all the way up to the damn brim.”

“Have some faith,” Momo offered. “Maybe everything is on the up-and-up.”

The elf arched an eyebrow. “And if it isn’t?”

Momo tilted her head, looking as if the answer was almost too obvious to even voice. “Then we’ll just lie or smash our way through. Same as always.”

Shin couldn’t resist a grin at that. “If that isn’t official doctrine yet, it really should be.”

The rest of the Council had joined them by then, looking uncharacteristically solemn as they gathered to see the foursome off. They filed past one by one to offer each departing member a small bow and their farewells, even the Wild Son managing a nearly respectful incline of his head. “Don’t worry about us,” Hilde promised. “We’ll make sure Shinki Itten is still standing when you get back.”

Well, what else was there to say? Shin glanced towards the others, receiving resolved nods from Momo and Gero and a somewhat grudging confirmation from Bittercup. Okay, everyone was ready. He carefully unrolled the message from King Majesty, held his breath, and then firmly tapped his fingers to the Travel Key.

Travel Key Activated! Two Destinations Within Range! Choose Destination?

Oh shit what this changes everything

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Okay, so we thought we had no choice but to go here,” –Shin jabbed his finger into the map the Wild Son had spread across the Council Table, indicating the city of Feldspar–”Right?”

The others nodded, huddling around the table to inspect the map. They’d hastily relocated to the Council Room after the sudden revelation of their newfound options, a new vigor brushing away their previous solemnity. “Remind me,” Shita mused, “what do we know about Feldspar? Human city, right?”

“Yes,” the Wild Son confirmed, completely cooperative and engaged for once. “My brothers and sisters have ranged that far, and a bit further. Its only remarkable quality is that it’s considered the edge of the Destined Path.”

“It’s also the closest major city to Quercus,” Bittercup interjected. “It’s practically Glandem’s back yard.”

Shin nodded, distracted by his own whirling thoughts. “So the chances of us teleporting in and immediately being ambushed are non-zero. But this other destination–”

“‘Anyport’?” Gero folded her ears as she stared down at the map, her eyes roaming across its surface. “But I don’t see it here. Does anyone else?”

Shin sure didn’t, and it didn’t seem as if anyone else did either. Though the Schemer had a suspicion. “Well, we know it’s an option for the Travel Key. So that means it must be at least as close to us as Feldspar, right?”

Gero nodded. “Right…”

“I think that means it can only be somewhere here.” Shin slapped his hand down into the blank white space directly next to Shinki Itten, the unmarked vastness that was the ocean. “It must be on the sea route to Magica.”

Bittercup furrowed her brow, repeating that to herself. “The sea route to…oh, wait, seriously? That…might not be the best idea.”

Momo leaned in, shooting the elf a questioning look. “Why not?”

“Because look.” Bittercup plucked the quill from Mimasu’s hands, quickly starting to fill in some of the map’s empty spaces. “We all know about Levels, right? How generally speaking, most people and creatures in a zone are roughly the same? And zones that are next to each other generally are, too?” She continued on without waiting for confirmation. “So as you leave Shinki Itten and head towards Magica,” –she dragged her finger on the map from Shinki Itten, through Feldspar, and all the way to Magica City– “It’s a steady level progression. Sometimes up, sometimes down, but it’s manageable. Anyone we came across would be within the same level range as us.”

Huh. Shin watched in fascination as Bittercup filled in the spaces of the map beyond the sea. She seemed to be drawing in a…troubling amount of skulls. “But not if we went to Anyport, I take it? Have you been there?”

“Never heard of it,” Bittercup admitted. “But I’m just trying to think of why there would be a Travel Hub in the ocean, and the only thought that makes sense is that it’s a gateway to the Max Level Zones. You know, where Players more powerful than Gods fight monsters more powerful than Twenty-ish Gods.”

So…if what she was saying was correct, then Shinki Itten was bordered on one side by a heated rival, and on the other end by the strongest beings in all of existence. That was certainly something. “So going there is, at the very least, a huge risk.”

“It seems like it, but…” Momo trailed off, something sparkling in her eyes. “But the Oaken Elves definitely have no idea we could go there. We didn’t even know.”

Gero slowly nodded. “So it’s a risk, but it’s not a trap. Between the two…I think I might prefer the risk.”

“Same,” Momo immediately concurred.

“Well I definitely agree,” Shin replied. “But what do you think, Bittercup?”

The elf stared at Shin for a moment, sliding her gaze over towards Momo and Gero for a moment. Then she glanced down at the map, taking in where she had just finished scrawling out a few dozen skulls to mark the nearby dangers of the Max Level Zones.

Then, she threw up her hands in defeat. “Fuck it. At least I won’t have to go to Feldspar. That place sucks.”

There was no reason to delay any longer. Shin quickly spread the message out on the table, shared one final nod with his companions, and then pressed down on the Travel Key.

Travel Key Activated! Two Destinations Within Range! Choose Destination?

Shin raised his voice, steady and clear. “‘Anyport’.”

And then space inverted in on itself.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

The first hint that the world as he knew it had returned to some semblance of normality was the tang of saltwater that perfumed the breeze. Then, it was the scream of gulls passing overhead. Then it was the realization that he was bent over some sort of railing, violently expelling the contents of his stomach.

“Oof, first time teleporting?”

Still utterly discombobulated, Shin managed to groan out something close to a reply. “Bwuh-huh…”

“That’s rough, buddy. Try curling your toes; really being here in the moment can help.”

Shin groggily obliged, too disoriented to consider whether he should be taking advice from mysterious voices. And it was fortunate he was, because the kobold found that he almost immediately started to feel better. Sensation spread from his toes through his legs and suffused his entire body, the swirling in Shin’s brain slowing to a halt as he took in a deep breath. “Wow, okay.” He turned, managing a shaky smile for his benefactor. “That really helped, thanks a–”

The kobold boggled as he found himself staring at the decapitated head of some enormous demon, one of the dozens of eyes dotting the brow beneath its crown-like tangle of horns blinking in an incredibly macabre wink. “My pleasure,” the head sincerely enthused, blood gushing from both of its tooth-filled maws. “Just glad to be of help!”

Maybe Shin should have tried a little harder to convince that villager to swap spots with him. Shaping and drying some tile sounded super right about now.