Chapter 4 Helpful Connections

It was pitch black by the time Ashe and Sydney neared the edge of the town. The darkness pressed in from all sides, and Ashe could barely make out the path they’d followed through the forest. But Sydney moved with purpose, guiding them with the aid of a small device that she kept glancing at, its dim screen casting an eerie glow on her face.

Ashe watched her, curiosity burning in her mind, but she remained silent. After everything she’d seen today, this strange device was just one more oddity in an increasingly bewildering world. Better to save her questions for later, especially with Sydney so withdrawn and quiet. They had enough on their plates already without her prying.

Sydney paused at the top of a small rise, tapping rapidly at her device. Ashe used the moment to survey the town. From here, it looked like a sprawling collection of buildings, but what caught her attention were the lights—dozens of them, scattered throughout the streets. They glowed steadily, far brighter than any lantern or magelight she’d ever seen.

“How do they power all the lights?” Ashe murmured under her breath, eyes wide with wonder. Magic? No—Sydney had already said this world didn’t rely on magic the way hers did.

“It’s this way,” Sydney cut in, not looking up from her device. She pointed toward the town, her voice flat. “Come on.”

“Right.” Ashe tore her gaze from the lights and fell into step behind Sydney as they continued their approach. Each step toward the town felt strange to her. In her world, nightfall brought a kind of quiet, a slowing of life as people sought shelter. But here…

The town buzzed with life, even under the cloak of night. People strolled along the river, their laughter mingling with the hum of conversation. Taverns and hotels, adorned with bright lights and unfamiliar colors, thrummed with activity. Ashe felt like an outsider looking in, mesmerized by the scene. The lights were too bright, too vivid—nothing like the soft glow of lanterns or magelight she knew. Everything about this place was strange, yet fascinating.

"Why is it so busy?" Ashe couldn’t help but ask, her curiosity breaking through the quiet tension.

Sydney sighed, her voice tired, as though the weight of the world had settled on her shoulders. "The northern lights will be out tonight. It’s supposed to be a big display... Dad and I were going to watch them from the lake." Her voice cracked as she finished, grief breaking through the surface.

Ashe felt a pang of guilt stab through her. "Oh... I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry," she muttered quickly, regret swelling in her chest.

Sydney didn’t answer right away. She just kept walking, her steps heavy with unspoken sorrow. The vibrant town blurred around them, distant now, as the weight of loss settled in the space between them.

“We’re here,” Sydney announced, her voice flat as she stopped in front of a small yellow house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow through the windows. Sydney moved toward the front door, her hand lifting to knock, but Ashe’s grip stopped her mid-motion.

“Let me.” Ashe’s voice was gentle, though her body ached with fatigue. She forced a strained smile, not wanting another disaster like the one with Thomas. The memory still stung. For a moment, Sydney’s eyes flared with anger, the emotion raw and untamed, but it faded as quickly as it had come.

“Okay,” Sydney whispered, stepping back. Her shoulders slumped as she let Ashe take the lead.

Ashe raised her hand and knocked. The sound echoed through the stillness of the night. They waited. Silence stretched on, the house seemingly lifeless despite the glow from within. Ashe was about to knock again when the door suddenly swung open, revealing a woman who looked to be in her sixties. Her graying brown hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and sharp green eyes peered at them with clear impatience.

“What do you want?” the woman asked, her tone sharp, as though they had interrupted something important. Ashe hesitated, taken aback by the abruptness. Words failed her, and she fumbled for a response.

“Uh… we—” Ashe stammered, her exhaustion making it hard to think straight.

“Well? Out with it!” The woman’s annoyance only deepened, her eyes narrowing. She crossed her arms, clearly not in the mood for pleasantries.

“Miranda, it’s me—Sydney.” Sydney’s voice broke the tension as she stepped forward, placing herself between Ashe and the woman at the door.

Miranda’s expression shifted the moment she recognized Sydney. The sharp annoyance in her green eyes softened, replaced with concern. “Oh, Sydney! How are you? What are you doing here so late?” she asked, her voice gentler now.

Sydney hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. “It’s… a long story. Do you think we could stay the night here?” she asked, her voice quiet but firm.

Miranda frowned slightly, her eyes darting toward Ashe. “I don’t see why not, but… can you introduce me to your friend first?” Her tone was polite but curious, and Ashe could feel the older woman’s suspicion creeping in as her eyes swept over her.

Sydney bit her lip before glancing back at Ashe. “This is Lilia. She’s… a cosplayer,” Sydney said, stumbling over the explanation as she shifted nervously, refusing to meet Miranda’s gaze.

“I am not—” Ashe began, confusion flashing across her face, but the sharp look Sydney shot at her was enough to make her pause. It was clear that now wasn’t the time for corrections. Ashe bit her tongue, standing awkwardly as Miranda’s gaze flicked between them.

Miranda didn’t seem convinced, but she let it slide, her lips pressing into a thin line as she gave a sideways glance. “I see… well, come on inside. You two must be getting cold,” she said, her voice a bit warmer, as she stepped aside, motioning them to enter.

Ashe stepped cautiously into the house behind Sydney, only to freeze mid-step, her eyes going wide as they landed on the strange object in the living room.

"W-what is that?" Ashe exclaimed, rushing forward, her hand instinctively going for a weapon that wasn’t there. "There’s a man trapped in that box!"

Sydney, clearly mortified, pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's a TV, Ashe. It's just the news. No one’s trapped."

Ashe blinked, her face flushing with confusion and embarrassment as she realized her mistake. She quickly glanced at Sydney, whose cheeks were now a bright shade of red, mirroring her own. Miranda, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow, staring at Ashe like she had just sprouted a second head.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Oh... right. Of course, it’s just... a TV. Haha...” Ashe chuckled awkwardly, backing away from the glowing screen as if it might spring to life at any moment.

Miranda, still giving her a perplexed look, turned back to Sydney, her expression shifting to one of concern. "Okay, Sydney," she said slowly, her tone much more serious. "Can you tell me what’s going on?"

“Ma’am, Sydney has had a really—” Ashe began, but before she could finish, the words were snatched away by a sharp interruption.

“I wasn’t talking to you, “Ashe”.” Miranda’s voice cut through the air like a blade. She gave Ashe a pointed look, one that left no room for argument. “Sydney can tell me.”

Ashe clamped her mouth shut, bristling but understanding. It was becoming a theme—she was an outsider here, barely understanding this world, let alone fitting into its rules. She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting between the two.

Sydney let out a deep, exhausted sigh, her shoulders slumping as though the weight of the day was finally crushing her. Slowly, she began to speak, her voice trembling at first, but gaining steadiness as she recounted what had happened. She told Miranda almost everything. Almost.

She left out the part about Ashe being from another world. She didn’t mention the fight with the strange men or the magic that had crackled in the air like thunder. No, she only spoke of the rawest truth—the part that hurt the most. Thomas had been shot and killed. They had fled.

By the time Sydney finished, the air in the room felt heavy, thick with unspoken pain. Her voice had dwindled to nothing, leaving a silence that echoed in the corners of the house. Ashe wanted to say something—anything—but the words died in her throat. This wasn’t her story to tell. It wasn’t her grief to bear.

Miranda moved without a word, walking over to Sydney. There were no questions, no disbelief. She simply wrapped Sydney in a hug, her arms holding her tight as though she could shield her from the rest of the world. Sydney began to shake, her composure finally breaking, and soft sobs filled the room.

Ashe felt the weight of guilt pressing on her chest, so heavy it was hard to breathe. This—everything—was her fault. She had brought chaos and danger into Sydney's life, and now into Miranda's. Even the warmth of the home around her felt distant, a place filled with love that she didn’t belong in.

Miranda caught her eye and, without saying a word, gestured toward a room on the far side of the house. Ashe gave a small nod and quietly made her way inside. She could hear the muffled sounds of Miranda and Sydney talking outside the door, their voices low, filled with grief and something else—comfort, maybe? Ashe considered pressing her ear to the door but thought better of it. She didn’t need to intrude further into their lives.

The room was simple, just a bed with a soft, fuzzy-looking blanket, a dresser, and a nightstand. Ashe’s eyes fell on the bed, and suddenly her exhaustion hit her like a wave. She wanted nothing more than to collapse and let sleep take her. But a nagging thought pulled her back from the brink of rest. Her armor.

She shot up, rifling through the dresser until she found a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Quickly, she began removing her armor, wincing as the straps and buckles dug into her skin. Once free of the heavy metal plates, she inspected her wound, it was already closing up thanks to her innate healing abilities, but it still stung to move around. After she finished inspecting the wound she slipped into the shirt and pants. The fabric felt strange on her skin, lighter, less restrictive, but also… comforting in a way.

As Ashe curled up on the bed, the weight of everything she'd been through pressed down on her. Her mind raced, jumping from one thought to another—the men who had attacked them, Thomas’s death, the grief on Sydney’s face. And then, it finally hit her, she was in another world. She already came to that conclusion earlier but it finally really hit her

She tried to push the thought aside, but it was too big to ignore. Everything felt so strange, so alien. The lights in the town, the way people dressed, the technology she didn’t understand—it all confirmed that she wasn’t just lost in some foreign land. This was something far greater. And far more terrifying.

Her chest tightened as she thought of home. Her friends, the faces of her comrades, her king and queen—what were they doing now? Had they even realized she was gone? Or did they think she had died, just vanished without a trace? The uncertainty gnawed at her. Would she ever see them again, or was she stuck in this world forever?

Ashe felt tears forming, and her throat tightened. She bit her lip, blinking them away before they could fall. Now wasn’t the time to break down. Not when Sydney was still out there, reeling from the death of her father. Not when the men who attacked them were still out there. She couldn’t afford to fall apart, not yet. There was too much at stake.

As Ashe curled up, the ache in her chest only deepened. The quiet of the room made the reality of her isolation impossible to ignore. This wasn’t her world—everything here was foreign. And for the first time since she’d arrived, she allowed herself to feel the weight of that truth.

She was on the edge of sleep when soft footsteps broke the stillness. Sydney let out a quiet sigh as she joined Ashe on the bed.

“Are you still awake?” Sydney asked in a whispered tone.

“Yeah,” Ashe replied, her voice barely above a murmur.

“Miranda’s going to talk to the police tomorrow,” Sydney said after a moment. “She said we can stay here as long as we need to. We’re just going to have to share this room.”

Ashe nodded in the dark. “That’s good to hear. How do you know Miranda, anyway?”

“She was one of my dad’s friends,” Sydney explained, her voice soft and tinged with grief. “He said I could go to her if anything ever happened to him.”

Ashe shifted slightly, her heart tightening at the thought of Sydney’s loss. “She seems like a good person.”

“She is,” Sydney agreed.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence hung between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. Ashe’s thoughts were a jumble, swirling between guilt and uncertainty, until Sydney’s voice broke the quiet again.

“Hey, Ashe… Can you tell me a little bit about your home?” Sydney’s question was tentative, as though she were trying to grasp something beyond the reach of this world.

“My home… Himlasia?”

“Yeah. What’s it like?”

Ashe paused, her mind drifting to images of her homeland. She thought of the rolling hills, the people, and the way the light caught the towers of the capital at dawn. A soft smile tugged at her lips.

“It’s beautiful,” Ashe began, her voice warming at the memories. “The kingdom and its people… It’s small compared to the other nations around it, but there’s something about Himlasia that sets it apart. Something none of the others have.”

Sydney’s curiosity stirred. “What’s that?”

“Courage,” Ashe said softly, her words filled with a quiet pride. “The courage to stand up for itself, to stand up for what’s right, no matter the odds. And that’s true of all its people, from the lowliest beggar to the king and queen. It’s why Himlasia is also known as *The Guardian*.”

“The Guardian?” Sydney echoed, curiosity breaking through the veil of grief in her voice.

“Yes,” Ashe nodded. “Despite being a small kingdom surrounded by more powerful neighbors, Himlasia is by far the oldest. It predates Oswain by over two thousand years. And in all that time, we have never once invaded another country. Our purpose has always been to protect, not conquer.”

Sydney’s eyes widened slightly, her grief momentarily forgotten as she leaned in. “How did Himlasia manage to stick around for so long?”

Ashe’s lips curled into a smile, her heart swelling with fond memories of her homeland. “Through strength, yes, but more than that, through honor. Himlasia never sought to expand its borders, but it always defended what was rightfully its own. And over the centuries, that earned us the respect of our neighbors, even the most powerful ones.”

As the night deepened, Ashe’s voice filled the room with tales of her homeland—of knights who fought with valor, of battles won not by force but by cleverness and conviction. She spoke of the sprawling forests, the towering castles, and the people who filled the streets with music and life.

Sydney listened in rapt attention, her heart a little lighter with each story, the weight of her grief easing, if only for a while. The stories carried them late into the night until, slowly, their voices faded into silence. Hours later, they drifted off to sleep, the distant world of Himlasia lingering like a dream between them.