Michael walked alone toward the desert city, the blazing sun casting long shadows across the sands. It didn’t take him long to reach the massive walls that loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the endless expanse of dunes behind him.

Near the entrance, a checkpoint had been set up, where a line of travelers waited to be admitted. Most of them were dressed in practical garb—scarves, cloaks, and loose clothing suited for the harsh desert climate. But among them stood figures clad in armor, robes embroidered with arcane symbols, and others wielding staffs topped with glowing, orbiting gems. It was a scene pulled straight from a fantasy novel, and Michael couldn’t help but stare.

"I really am in another world, huh?" he muttered under his breath, his eyes wide as he took in the surreal sight.

“You still had doubts? After everything you’ve seen?” Embora’s voice rang in his mind, laced with a hint of incredulity.

Michael sighed. "Can you blame me? I’ve passed out at least twice since yesterday. For all I know, I’m lying in a hospital bed somewhere, having the most vivid fever dream of my life."

“Hmm,” Embora mused, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone. “You do pass out quite easily. Do you have low blood sugar, Michael?”

"Not that I know of," he replied, rolling his eyes. "But think about it. I've seen a dragon, fought a slime, fought a behemoth-”

“Ran from a behemoth” Embora interrupted

…yes, ran from a behemoth, met an elf, and fought a giant scorpion with two tales. Oh, and let's not forget the magic powers."

As if to prove his point, Michael lifted his arm and activated Wyrmguard. Red scales materialized on his forearm, shimmering with a faint, otherworldly glow. He stared at them for a moment before releasing the skill, letting the scales fade away. "This kind of thing doesn't happen in my world, Embora. It... kind of scares me."

A wave of emotion washed over him from Embora—concern, sadness, and something else he couldn't quite identify. It was the first time he had felt her so clearly.

“I’m sorry, Michael," Embora said softly. "I’m not used to this either. I was... stubborn, to say the least. Even before I was trapped in that cave, I avoided others, even my own kind. I was always a loner.”

Her words hung in the air between them, unspoken emotions passing from one to the other. For the first time, Michael realized that she was just as lost as he was, navigating a world that had changed for her as much as it had for him. She was no longer just a voice in his head; she was a being with her own fears and regrets.

"Guess we're both out of our element then," Michael said with a small, wry smile. He stepped forward, toward the line of travelers, and the imposing walls of the city beyond. "But we’ll figure it out. Together."

He felt a faint pulse of warmth from Embora in response, a silent agreement. With that, he joined the line, ready to face whatever this new world threw at them next.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

“Name?” a deep voice asked, snapping Michael out of his thoughts. He looked up at the large man standing in front of him. The guard was human, appearing to be in his mid-forties, with a thick red beard streaked with hints of gray. He wore chainmail that clinked slightly as he moved, and a massive sword hung at his hip. It looked heavy enough that it would take two people to lift it, but Michael had no doubt this man could wield it effortlessly with one hand.

"You hear me? What's your name?" the guard repeated, his gaze fixed on Michael.

"Um... M-Michael Thorne. Sir," Michael replied, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

"Thorne? Your surname is Thorne?" Embora murmured in Michael's mind, sounding curious.

The guard gave Michael a scrutinizing look. "Hmm. Let's see here." He pulled a roll of papers from his side pouch and began scanning through them. "Thorne, Thorne... hmm, I don't see a Thorne listed. Is this your first time in Osta? Where are you coming from?"

"It's my first time here," Michael said quickly. "And I'm, um... from the west."

"The west?" The guard raised an eyebrow. "Ah, are you from Sawun?"

Michael hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Yes! Very beautiful this time of year." he lied

"Quite," the guard said, his expression softening slightly. "My mother is from there. I try to visit her every year. I do miss the crystal-clear ocean." He shook his head, as if clearing away the nostalgia, and turned his attention back to the papers. "Well, you're not on the list. I'll have to give you a three-day visa until you get a job or leave the city. Once you find work, you must report to the guard station. If you fail to report it, we will find you."The guard pulled out a blank card and scribbled on it before handing it to Michael. "Don't make us find you," he added, his tone carrying a threat.

Michael took the card, swallowing hard as he nodded. "Understood."

The guard gave a curt nod and gestured for Michael to move along. As he walked into the city, Michael couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief. He glanced down at the visa in his hand, the weight of the guard's words still heavy on his mind.

“Well, that could have gone worse,” Michael muttered.

Michael's gaze wandered, taking in the sights of the city around him. The soft glow of lanterns illuminated the sandstone buildings as the sun dipped below the horizon. A sense of wonder washed over him. This was a real fantasy city, bustling with life even as the day wound down.

"Wow," he muttered under his breath, barely registering the vendors packing up their stalls. He noticed the mix of races—elves like Aldrina, humans, even a few creatures he'd never seen before, moving about their evening routines.

"Don't let your guard down," Embora warned, her tone serious. "This city might seem welcoming, but im sure it's filled with secrets."

Michael nodded, tucking his visa into his pocket. The day's events had taken a toll on him, and he realized he needed a place to rest. As he moved through the crowd, he overheard snippets of conversation, hints of the city's complexities.

“So,” Michael said. “Where are we going to sleep?”

Right when he said that he felt a hand grab his shoulder. “You're coming with me,” said a voice behind him, it sounded like Aldrina. She pulled him nearly dragging him to a nearby ally. Michael stumbled as Aldrina yanked him into the alleyway, her grip unyielding. He barely had time to register the swift change of pace before they were out of sight from the bustling crowd. The narrow alley was dimly lit, the shadows stretching as the last rays of sunlight disappeared.

"Aldrina, what's going on?" Michael asked, trying to shake off the surprise. "Where have you been? I thought—"

"Quiet," she hissed, glancing over her shoulder toward the entrance of the alley. Her eyes scanned their surroundings, sharp and focused. Only when she seemed certain they were alone did she finally release his shoulder.

“So, I got you to the city safe. I believe be had a deal. 500 gold crowns.” She said with a tired smile.

“Um…about that. I don't have any money,” he said as he reached into his pajama pockets to pull out the pocket to show he was broke.

Aldrina's tired smile faded instantly, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the empty pockets Michael presented.

For a moment, she didn't say anything, the silence stretching out between them like a taut rope. her eyes narrowing dangerously. "You don't have any money?" Her voice was low, but the frustration in it was palpable. "You made a deal with me for 500 crowns, and you didn't even have a single coin? You owe me" She turned and kicked the wall next to them, a hidden door then opened. Inside was a stone staircase, “Follow me, and don't you run. I'll find you if you do.” she descended. Michael hesitantly followed.