The 8th of Aggrave, Year 373 P.R.F. (High Lunar Cycle)

On the outskirts of Drebos Altimas

The mages and I cut a fast clip down one stone hallway after another. Some of the stonework consisted of masonry blocks, but other passages seemed to cut through solid natural stone itself. Since there were no stairs or ramps involved, I was starting to suspect this might all be some kind of massive underground complex.

Not to mention the lack of windows. But at least these halls swapped the flickering torch light of the chamber in which I had been summoned for glowing metal fixtures set in the ceilings. It was hard to tell just what sort of metal they had convinced to glow with such gentle white light without subjecting us to a forge’s heat, but I did spot charms to renew the air in filigreed silver set into the stone ceiling near each light fixture. Either way, the fresher, smokeless air was much easier on my nose than the room we originally exited.

Much less comforting were the doors we passed along the way, and sometimes opened and traveled through. They had the air of thick, reinforced security doors. Heavy wooden beams, multiple steel straps, complicated locks, and multiple ceramic plates set into doors and door-frames alike. Ceramic plates likely etched on their reverse sides with various magical formulae for alarms and wards, based on their numbers and placement, even if nothing of the spells themselves was actually visible to me.

I may not be entirely sure of where I was or who these people are or what they want of me, and I wouldn’t want to burn any bridges by mistake that I might regret later. But maybe… Maybe it’s not too improper of me to want to not end up in some kind of prison cell? Even if I have to insist on it. I’m not sure if I have it in me to strike another person outside of a dueling arena, but hopefully things won’t come to that. If they try to put me in a cell and I say “No”, they’d listen right? That sounds like the sort of thing people do.

*… “That sounds like the sort of thing people do.” Did I really just think that? Really? What’s wrong with me?*

Eventually, we reached some kind of circular courtyard, with trees, benches, and small flowering bushes in the open sunshine. Sunshine that came from far overhead, admittedly, but a ramp spiraled up the interior of the forty-foot walls that ringed the courtyard, a ramp the mages escorted me up. These four robed figures remained the only people I’ve so much as glimpsed since being summoned, which seemed weird for such a huge structure. But at least as we climbed the broad ramp, the masonry appeared more finely worked, the doors and fixtures more decorative than imposing. Perhaps I didn’t need to worry that they intended to lock me away after all.

As we reached the top of the ramp, the elderly mage suddenly turned back towards me with a delighted smile. The young woman seemed to only scowl harder, although it was difficult to tell since she was still looking the other way. I wish I knew which expression to trust; I was becoming worried that the elderly mage’s increasing delight didn’t guarantee my safety, and might even threaten it. The moment stretched, then passed, and we now made our way through new endless corridors. Better decorated, but still reduced to a generic unremarkableness in their constant repetition.

And still nobody was speaking; not to me, not to each other. I don’t usually find lengthy silences unnerving, but this was starting to get downright creepy. I considered breaking the silence first, but… They hadn’t introduced themselves, and it was feeling deliberate. Without some pretext to adhere to, like shopkeeper to customer, innkeeper to guest, rescuer to innocent victim, and so on, there was nothing I could say that wouldn’t be extremely rude.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

If someone wouldn’t exchange names with you, you left them be. You went your way and let them go theirs. The world is a huge place, and you might not run into them again. Better to live and let live. There are dangers aplenty, too, in monsters and villainous sorcerers bent on indiscriminate destruction and doomsday cults and more. Why make additional enemies for yourself? Especially someone who might someday soon far outstrip you in both personal strength and social authority, and who might choose to hunt you down in vengeance.

What about these four, then? I had been approaching things as if I was interested and they were not - I gave my name, so it was their choice about whether to reciprocate or not. But if they didn’t want anything to do with me, they should have left first… unless I came to them. If I was encroaching on someplace they were already content, seeing to their own business, of course it wouldn’t be proper to force them to leave by offering my name and expecting their refusal.

Could that be it? I didn’t choose to be here - they summoned me. So I didn’t really see myself as encroaching on their space. But maybe they didn’t see things the same way? Maybe they were waiting for me to leave. Except they told me to follow them, so that still didn’t make sense. Honestly, I found their continuing rudeness baffling. Maybe maddeningly so.

A new, much rarer thought crossed my mind: should I call for divine intervention? It was a last resort, and one I’d always been loathe to use, but the eternal servants that protect the fundamental order of the world, the GMs, had promised to always be there in our time of need, especially when the most essential elements of basic courtesy are ignored. Except, I did hear the mages discuss which world I was summoned from…

Which world…

A different world…

Oh no.

Some part of me had kept insisting this was some unknown region of Thersia. Distant, maybe. Strange to me, maybe. But still part of Thersia somewhere. It would have to be, wouldn’t it? You sometimes got rants from cultists or mad scholars or traitorous clergy about other realms outside our own, the hidden spaces beyond the veil of our reality from which they drew whatever corruption or eldritch horrors or heresy they aimed to turn to their own ends. But Thersia is the only true world, isn’t it? The only place where people can exist as people?

So was this some madness of my summoners? Because if it wasn’t… The GMs are the guardians of the world’s order. Of Thersia’s order. If I’m somehow beyond Thersia, does that mean I’m beyond the protection of the GMs?

As frightened as I was before, this was absolutely terrifying. Never in my life have I truly feared for my safety like this. Monsters might strip the flesh from my bones if I gave them the opportunity, but the solution to that is simply to never challenge a monster you aren’t prepared to face. But when it came to my own kind, the worst I’ve ever needed to dread was an unkind word or a rude gesture. You might hear a tale of someone getting ambushed walking down the wrong street on a dark night, but that’s all it would be, just a tale. Fiction. It couldn’t happen. The GMs wouldn’t let it happen.

Sure there were bandits and cultists and the like, but that was different, wasn’t it? They were almost like monsters, in a way… It was some fundamental part of who they were, right? Nobody ever grew up to become a bandit. Some adventurers might change their roles and learn new skills at the drop of a hat, but even they had never become bandits. And if the ever mutable adventurers couldn’t do it, then neither could any barkeep or mayor or sailor. It couldn’t happen. It wasn’t even an option… was it?

“Hey! Hey! What’s wrong with you?” Fingers, repeatedly snapped in front of my face, brought me back to myself as I stood motionless in yet another endless corridor. Fingers belonging to a young woman whose face showed only disgust for me, not an ounce of concern to be found. I was a hopeless, pointless burden in her eyes. An unquestionably inferior being. Worthless.

I could have said something back to her if I wanted. She spoke to me first - essential courtesy would be preserved. I could have said “Thank you”, or “I’m fine”, or even “Leave me be”.

I could have if I wanted to; I chose not to.