As the days turned into weeks, Zeni continued to hone her skills. Not only from Hesira’s withering gaze, but also under Neith's watchful eye, learning to find the delicate balance between power and control. And as her understanding of her magical abilities grew, so too did her confidence in her place within the village of Kephri's Rest and the mysterious world that lay beyond its borders.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Zeni would join the villagers in their daily tasks. She even felt as though had started to become a valued member of their close-knit community, and the people welcomed her assistance with open arms. Her days were filled with the simple, satisfying work of village life—from helping to rebuild damaged structures to tending to the animals and crops.

One day, a fierce storm had blown through the village, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The old magical water-drawing mechanism that served the village well had been shattered, and Zeni had found herself working alongside the villagers to install a new one. The process was lengthy and laborious, requiring digging into the ground to ensure first that no runes had been damaged along the outside of the well itself. She had marveled at the intricate, arcane designs etched into the mechanism, the way the water seemed to dance and flow with a life of its own as it was drawn from the depths of the earth.

To be fair, Zeni’s job during the whole event had mostly been running to-and-fro between the different camps of helpers to deliver messages and occasionally holding up a brick or two so that the people who actually knew what they were doing could inspect various areas for fault.

However, eventually, the issue was sorted, and the whole crew waited patiently for the man known as Madu to summon the spout from the pump. As soon as the water began gushing out, there was an eruption of cheers from the villagers and Zeni had never felt so proud in her life. Nor so part of something.

The villagers themselves were a colorful, diverse group of people, each with their own unique skills and stories to share. Zeni had become particularly close to a few of them – there was Menna the baker, a kind and motherly woman who often invited Zeni to join her family for dinner; Fahim, the merchant who always seemed to know eight different new jokes every day that applied to any particular situation; and Basim, a boy a few years younger than Zeni, but much taller, who was always eager to learn and lend a hand wherever he could. He was the blacksmith, Aken’s, apprentice, though she’d been led to believe he was a bit too excitable to be fully trusted with the finer detail. But he was learning.

Each day, before evening, after a day spent working with the villagers, Zeni would return to the clearing for another round of invocation training. As the sun dipped below the horizon, she would pour all of her energy and focus into mastering her powers, pushing herself to her limits under Neith's watchful eye.

As the weeks went by, the village began to feel like a second home to Zeni, the warmth and camaraderie of its people gave her a sense of belonging she had never experienced before. It was during these quiet, peaceful moments that Zeni found herself reflecting on the life she had left behind and the new one she was forging here in this strange, magical world.

Still, Zeni was drawn to the simple pleasures of life in the village, and each day brought new experiences and friendships. The villagers were warm and welcoming, embracing her as one of their own despite her mysterious origins.

One sunlit afternoon, Zeni found herself helping Menna knead the dough for the day's bread. The air in the small bakery was warm and fragrant, filled with the scents of yeast and freshly baked goods. Menna, a plump woman with a perpetual smile, was a fount of knowledge when it came to the art of baking.

"You have to put your whole body into it, Zeni," Menna said, her laughter ringing out as she demonstrated the proper kneading technique. "Like this! It's not just in the hands—it's in the hips and the shoulders too."

Zeni mimicked Menna's movements, feeling the dough yield under her fingers as she worked it into a smooth, elastic mass. The process was oddly therapeutic, and she found herself losing track of time as she chatted with Menna about life in the village and the recipes she'd learned from her own mother.

"You know, Zeni," Menna said as they worked, "when you first arrived, there were some who were a bit wary of you—what with your strange clothes and the way you appeared out of nowhere. But you've proven yourself to be a true blessing to our village."

Zeni smiled, touched by Menna's kind words.

"I'm just grateful to be here, and to have been welcomed so warmly. I never would have imagined that I'd find a place like this when I first…showed up in this world."

Menna patted her on the back affectionately.

"Well, we're glad you're here, dear. We may not know precisely where you came from, but you've become an important part of our community."

Still more weeks passed, and Zeni continued to forge bonds with the villagers. She spent some afternoons helping Aken, tending to the forge's flames and learning the delicate art of shaping metal. Aken, the burly man with a bushy beard who had helped her defend the village on her first day, had a deep, booming laugh, and taught her the importance of patience and precision in his craft.

"You must treat the metal with respect, Zeni," he would often tell her as they worked. "Each piece has its own character, and if you don't pay attention, it will let you know by warping or breaking."

Zeni nodded, soaking up the wisdom Aken shared as they worked together, shaping metal into tools and trinkets. The forge itself wasn’t a bustling place, but it didn’t need to be; filled with the sound of hammers striking anvils and the crackle of the fire as it was. The heat was intense, but Zeni found it invigorating, and she loved the thrill of watching her creations take shape under her hands.

One afternoon, Zeni, for the first time in what felt like ages, found herself with an entire day free.

Neith was off sorting through the thrilling intricacies of village bureaucracy, while Hesira was called upon to assist the villagers with the preparations for some upcoming celebration—one of such apparent importance that even her skills were put to use in ensuring that the decorations would not only be dazzling but, at the very least, mildly flammable.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

With the sun shining like a giant coin in the sky and a gentle breeze doing its best to impersonate a particularly inept pickpocket, Zeni decided it was the perfect day for a bit of exploration. The desert was a vast and uncharted territory for her, and she was eager to see what mysteries lay hidden amidst its sandy embrace.

As she meandered through the village, she crossed paths with Basim, who was on his way back from an apprenticeship session with Aken. Noticing the aimless expression on her face, Basim grinned and asked, "Looking for something to do, Zeni?"

She nodded, and Basim's eyes lit up.

"Why don't you join me at the oasis? I was just about to head there to try my luck at fishing. It's a great way to relax and enjoy the scenery."

Zeni agreed, and the two set off on their journey south, towards the oasis that lay about an hour from the village. As they walked, Basim regaled Zeni with tales of the various creatures and legends that were said to inhabit the desert. Some of these tales involved particularly agile scorpions, while others spoke of mythical cacti that granted wishes to those who could perform the ancient ‘Dance of the Thorns’ without succumbing to the temptation of screaming in pain.

The desert landscape stretched out before them, an endless sea of sand and dunes with the occasional haphazard smattering of vegetation. Zeni was struck by the stark beauty of it all, as well as by the occasional gust of wind that saw fit to fill her boots with sand.

As they neared the oasis, the dry, desolate expanse began to give way to a surprising burst of greenery. The air cooled and grew thick with the scents of damp earth and blossoming flowers, accompanied by the distant sound of trickling water.

Upon reaching the oasis, Basim and Zeni marveled at the sight before them. It was a small paradise hidden amidst the arid sands, a haven of lush vegetation surrounding a crystal-clear pool of water. The air buzzed with the chatter of insects and the musical notes of birdsong.

Basim led Zeni to what her referred to as his ‘favorite spot,’ which turned out to be a sandy nook along the water's edge nestled beneath the shade of a sprawling palm tree. He showed her how to cast a fishing net, patiently explaining the habits of the different fish species that inhabited the oasis. Zeni, in return, attempted to cast the net with as much grace as she could muster, which resulted in a performance that was more akin to a poorly executed interpretive dance than a fishing technique. Basim chuckled at her efforts, assuring her that practice would make perfect—or, at the very least, less disastrous.

As they sat waiting for the fish to take the bait, Zeni and Basim engaged in conversation, covering topics that ranged from village gossip to the proper technique for removing sand from one's ear canal. The atmosphere was one of ease, and Zeni found herself feeling grateful for the simple pleasure of spending a leisurely day with a new friend.

The hours passed quickly, punctuated by the occasional triumphant shout as a fish was caught and added to their growing collection. As the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon, casting the oasis in a warm, golden glow, Basim and Zeni continued their conversation.

"You know, Zeni," Basim began, gazing out at the dunes that stretched as far as the eye could see, "I love apprenticing under Aken, but sometimes I wonder if being a blacksmith is what I want to do for the rest of my life."

Zeni tilted her head, listening intently.

Are we opening up? She wondered. That’s like, the first step to real friendship! Okay, Zeni, play it cool…play it cool. You’ve done this before. Friends. You had loads of friends back home.

She paused, considering.

You had several very good friends back home, she corrected herself. You can do this.

Then, realizing she hadn’t said anything in response to his statement, she quickly reconfigured her glee.

"What do you mean?" She stumbled awkwardly.

Basim sighed.

"It's just that the options are limited in our village, you know? Don’t get me wrong—I love it there, but…I just don't know what else I could do. And abandoning Kephri's Rest... that's a difficult decision. I'd have to leave all my friends and loved ones behind."

Zeni thought for a moment, then suggested, "Have you ever considered becoming a Rahhalah? They travel and see so much of the world, and they always have fascinating stories to tell."

Basim chuckled, eyeing her suspiciously.

“You know, you haven’t been here long, but one thing I’ve learned about your Zeni, is that you don’t go very long without mentioning the Rahhalah. You in love with them or something?”

Zeni balked. She didn’t think she was actually in love with the Rahhalah. Sure, the three she’d met had been extremely nice to look at, but it took more than that to fall in love, didn’t it? Besides, they were only three out of…probably hundreds of Rahhalah, so she couldn’t exactly say she was in love with the entire group. She hadn’t even met most of them!

It was, in that moment, that she realized Basim had been joking around. However, before she could stammer through what promised to be a very convincing explanation, Basim saved her the trouble by continuing his thought.

“I've thought about it, but I'm not sure that's the life for me. You know how the dungeons call to everyone, offering riches and adventure, but I'm not sure I'm cut out for that kind of danger."

Zeni nodded in understanding.

"It's definitely not an easy choice to make. But I’m told that sometimes, we have to take risks and step out of our comfort zone to discover who we truly are and what we're capable of."

Someone from her old world had said that to her long ago, and it wasn’t until recently that she really began to take it to heart.

They sat in silence for a moment, contemplating. Then Basim spoke again.

"What about you, Zeni? What are your dreams?"

Zeni smiled softly.

"I'm still figuring that out myself. I never expected to end up here, in this magical world with amazing people. I think I want to be a…”

She paused, giving Basim the side eye as she expected her next words to be met with derision, but persisted anyway.

“A Rahhalah…But I've also found a sense of belonging here, and I want to make the most of it. Maybe my destiny is intertwined with Kephri's Rest, or maybe there's a larger purpose waiting for me out there. Even in my short time in this place, I've heard so many stories about the world beyond, filled with forests, mountains, seas, and the dungeons of course. It's hard not to be curious.”

Basim nodded, his eyes seeming pensive.

"I think…I think I've always wanted to live by the sea, maybe in a place like Tethrys—to watch the waves crash against the shore and feel the salt in the air every day. There's something so alluring about a world so different from our own."

Zeni smiled at his words, her thoughts drifting back to her own experiences before arriving in this world.

"I know what you mean. But you know, there's a certain beauty to the desert as well. The way the sand shifts and changes, the stillness of the night, the brilliant display of stars... it's a different kind of magic."

Basim grinned back at her, a playful gleam in his eyes.

"Who’s side are you on, Zeni?” He teased, then sat back in thought. He stared into space for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully, before finally turning back to her with a grin.

“Well, if you ever find a way to travel to these far-off places, promise you'll take me with you?"

"Deal," Zeni agreed, chuckling at the thought of their desert adventures.

As the day turned to evening, and the oasis was bathed in the warm, fading light of the setting sun, Basim and Zeni began to pack up their fishing gear and prepare for the journey back to the village. Their catch had been a modest one, but they both agreed that the day had been a resounding success nonetheless.

As they walked back through the cooling desert, the sky painted in shades of orange and pink, Zeni found herself reflecting on the strange, winding path that had brought her to this point. She had left behind one life and stumbled into another, filled with magic, danger, and the easy nurturing of newfound friendships.

For now, perhaps, that could be enough.