I came to lying on a cold stone floor.

Wearily, I sat up and instantly regretted it.

“Jesus, my head,” I moaned and massaged at my temples, my eyes scrunched up against the pain.

Interdimensional travel, or whatever the hell that had been, apparently resulted in the mother of all migraines. After spending a minute babying my aching skull, I chanced looking around to see where I was.

Cracked stone walls greeted me as I opened my eyes.

Four narrow windows let weak light into the square, spartan room. There was nothing else aside from myself and a rough canvas bag leaning up against the wall nearest to me.

I took a moment to collect myself.

“So, what are the facts?” I asked myself.

Firstly, the last thing I remembered before getting zapped into that weird chamber with the talking ball of light was going to bed in my dorm room.

Secondly, for some unknown reason, I’d been transported to another world. Either that or I was absolutely tripping balls, high out of my mind and hallucinating vividly. The only thing was, I’d never done anything harder than weed before and I couldn’t see anyone wasting their own drugs on secretly doping me up, so that left the ‘alternate world’ hypothesis pretty much intact.

Thirdly, the talking ball of light had given me three gifts and charged me with ‘saving the world’. Basic isekai intro plotline, but it was a lot more daunting when you were the one who was supposed to do it!

“The way the orb and that voice in my head acted makes me think this world works like a video game, so how do I access my skills or see what [Bendy Dick of the Veiled Twat] or whatever does?” I mused, tapping my chin.

“Skills!” I shouted experimentally to the empty air. “Settings? Um, profile!”

None of it worked.

Huffing out a breath, I heaved myself off the floor and took a couple wobbly steps towards one of the windows.

Outside, desolation awaited me.

I seemed to have woken up in a crumbling tower. The tower was surrounded by what once might have been a sturdy stone wall but was now a heaping ruin. There was nothing in the courtyard around it save for some dead weeds and what looked like a collapsed well. Luckily, it was at the peak of a craggy hill, giving me a good vantage point to survey the surrounding countryside. I went to each of the four windows and squinted to see in the low light.

It didn’t look like there was much out there.

As I scanned the bleak horizon, my previous apprehension deepened into dismay. There was nothing for miles around but wasteland: an endless expanse of dark, rocky terrain, scattered ruins, and above, a gray and sunless sky. It was just my luck that I’d get transported to a fantasy world and it would totally suck.

“Oh well,” I sighed, “you have to make do with what you’re given.”

After looking through each of the windows a second time to see if I’d missed anything, I turned my attention to the only other thing in the room: the bag.

It looked like it was of pretty poor quality, tattered and stained and worn as if it had been used roughly for years and years. I reached inside and dug around, my fingers brushing against something smooth and angular.

“Huh?”

I pulled my hand out and clenched in it was a book with a black leather cover and a weird bump on the front. It was thick and obviously old but well cared for. Two weathered iron clasps kept it closed but they popped open easily under my touch. Within were bound heavy ivory pages.

“Not paper. Velum, maybe?”

I set it aside after looking it over only to find that the pages were blank and went back to the bag. There were a few other things of marginal usefulness and I laid them out for inspection. Staring down on what I assumed was my starter equipment, it was hard not to feel hopeless. There were just three things contained in the bag other than the blank book: a ragged cloak, a glass bottle full of murky water and a loaf of stale bread. I might not freeze to death or die of hunger soon but going off the dirtiness of the water dysentery was still a real possibility. How crappy would it be to teleported to a fantasy world and die of dehydration-by-diarrhea in the first week?

Glumly, I slid to the ground and kicked out my legs petulantly, making the book skid across the room.

“Stupid book,” I said sourly. Out of lack of options, it was the only thing I could exercise my frustration on.

“Hmph! How rude,” said terse voice.

I shot up.

“Who was that? Who’s there!”

There came a harrumph.

“Why, me of course, you blithering idiot.”

With a kind of dread, I watched dumbly as the book I’d just kicked began to hover off the flagstones and turned its front cover towards me. The knobby protrusion on the front split open and I found myself staring into a single bulging eye, its iris a deep, glowing purple.

My mouth opened in horror and I thought seriously about screaming for a moment but who would hear me anyway? Alarm turned quickly to resignation.

Figures.

First there was that alien sphere thing, then I get transported to some godforsaken wasteland, and now a talking, flying book ends up in my starter gear.

Just my damn luck.

“You were a regular book a second ago and now you’re what, some kind of demon or something? Flesh eating monster? Soul stealer maybe? Hmm? If you’re gonna kill me, do me a favor and make it quick.”

The book ruffled its pages irritably.

“I beg pardon, but I’m sure I don’t know what kind of stories you’ve been reading! I’d hoped my master would know better than to judge a book by its cover.”

That last part gave me pause.

“Wait, ‘master’? Are you talking about me?” I pointed at my chest.

The book floated closer to me, its single eye studying me head to toe.

“Unfortunately, yes. As I was going to say before you so rudely struck me and compared my august personage to a simple grimoire, which is highly insulting I’ll have you know,” the book came to hover just above my knees and did a pretty decent approximation of a bow for something without a back to bend, “I am Cyprianus, your assigned familiar. I would like to say it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, master, but after such a poor first impression, I assure you it most certainly isn’t.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Great.

A talking, flying book with an attitude. Weren’t familiars supposed to be cute little animal helpers or something? Maybe that was just in fairytales. Still, why did I have to get stuck with a grumpy Necronomicon? Regardless, it was probably best that I make amends.

“Yeah, sorry about that. A lot’s happened today and I didn’t know you were, y’know, alive. I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything,” I said.

Cyprianus’ covers snapped shut with a thunderous clap and the book rose higher into the air.

“Hurt me? With such a feeble kick? Hmph! You broke the rules of common curtesy not my bindings, sir!” The book said huffily.

I held my hands up in surrender. This book’s so freaking touchy!

“Geez, okay! I’m sorry for kicking you and I’m sorry for, I don’t know, impugning your strength. I’m just…sorry for being rude in general, alright? I’m still just trying to take this all in.”

That seemed to mollify Cyprianus somewhat as it, or was it ‘he’, lowered down to eye-level with me. He stared at me with his single purple eye before making a sharp nodding motion and twirling around to face the window with a superior sniff.

“Well, so long as you’re sincere in your apology, I’m prepared to let bygones be bygones.”

I rolled my eyes while his back was turned.

“You said I’m your master and you’re my familiar right? That makes you one of the three gifts that- that thing gave me.”

“Just so, master.” Indignity apparently forgotten, my familiar took to floating around the room, inspecting it just like I had a minute ago.

“Then where are the other two gifts?” I asked.

“I beg pardon?”

“Well, aside from you I’m supposed to have the title to some Nerqesh or other and a boon,” I explained.

I don’t know how he did it, but when he turned to me I somehow got the impression of him raising a questioning eyebrow. The thing didn’t even have eyebrows!

“Apologies, master, but this is Nerqesh,” he said.

“What, the wasteland?”

“No, the tower we’re in.”

There was a beat of silence between us.

“Just…the tower?”

“Why yes. What did you expect, a whole kingdom? The Helligand did explain that the world has ended, did they not?”

“Well, yeah but still- huh? What’s a Helligand?”

Cyprianus huffed and shot back over to me. I couldn’t quite muffle the surprised eep I let out when he landed in my lap with a plop and flipped open to a random page. He was heavy.

“I see a little edification is in order.”

The previously blank page began to fill with color as words and pictures revealed themselves to me. It was like the old, illuminated texts I remembered seeing in museums as a kid, thorny, stylized letters and richly illustrated scenes. These were a bit different from the texts in my memory, though. Instead of saints and medieval peasants the pictures before me depicted a burning city and a shooting star trailing black fire. And were those zombies? In chainmail?

“I’ll start at the beginning, shall I?” Cyprianus spoke. “You’ve come, master, to a broken world. Few know why the gods began their Great War but every being alive today suffers the consequences of their foolishness.

“Nearly three centuries ago, this land you find yourself transported to was known as Heqara, the Green Jewel of Lovely Nebjet. Now it is called the Western Wastes when it is called anything at all. The Holy War saw to that and much, much worse. Two hundred and ninety-six years ago, the gods clashed in terrible combat, calling their mortal followers to wage crusade after crusade against their foes until few of the original Seven Divines remained. Allora, Goddess of Peace and Law, fell first at the Doom of Galthane, then Urgaal, the God of the Arts, at the Rape of Urgni-” damn, shows how good I am at guesstimating, but still, boons from the gods of law and art probably wouldn’t have been helpful in my situation anyway, “-but what truly marked the beginning of the end when Cernunnos fell in battle to Eladhos.”

“What was so important about-” I began to ask but was quickly silenced.

“Shush! You’ve ruined the narrative flow. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the beginning of the end. When Cernunnos, God of Life and Every Growing Thing fell, all plant life began to wither as well.”

“Ohhhhh,” I said in understanding. I couldn’t see his eye while he was open but somehow, I just knew Cyprianus was glaring.

“Yes, ‘ohhhhh’. Eladhos, God of Death, was unmade by his own hand. In destroying his thematic opposite, the cosmic balance between life and death was thrown into chaos and eventually he faded to nothing. With Eladhos no longer guarding the gates of the Underworld, the world faced an undead uprising the likes of which had never before been seen.”

“Magical zombie apocalypse,” I muttered dazedly. The armor-clad revenants made a lot more sense in context.

Cyprianus snapped shut on my hand, which I snatched back with a yelp.

“That is quite enough interrupting!”

“Okay okay, I’ll keep my mouth shut, sheesh,” I said, cradling my throbbing fingers with a wince.

After a frosty pause, Cyprianus continued.

“After the Great War and the Revenant Uprising came the last of this world’s great tribulations. A hundred years ago, the Dark Star, a thing from outside this world, fell far to the east in Tajin and opened a portal to a lesser hell dimension. The three remaining divines, Morvane, God of War, Ilvane, Goddess of Storms and the Veiled One, God of Magic, sacrificed themselves to seal the portal and end the infernal threat forever.”

I let out a low whistle. This place had really been put through the wringer: a magic world war, a zombie apocalypse and to top it all off, a demonic invasion.

“The Helligand, which goes by many other names, is the amalgamation of all that remains of the Divines in this world. Their energy, their power, their intent. Their ghost, I suppose. Its purpose as I understand it is to prevent the further decay of this world by any means necessary.”

Heavy stuff.

“How am I involved in all of this, then?” I asked.

“You are one of a select group of Chosen, so named for the fact that the Helligand has chosen you because they see in you something which may help advance their plans,” Cyprianus explained.

“But…how? Look, I’m just a college kid. I don’t know how to fill out my taxes by myself let alone save the world. Plus, you just said it already ended! Three times!”

“Hence the three gifts bestowed upon you by the Helligand. You have a fortress, though it is admittedly a little worse for wear-”

“A little?!”

I could literally see the sky through a hole in the ceiling above us as he spoke.

“-and you have me,” Cyprianus spoke over me, “a superb specimen of a catalyst class familiar, if I do say so myself. I shall be your guide, your companion and your weapon upon your journey.”

I was starting to feel a little hysterical at that point, but my curiosity pushed me to ask more.

“And what, exactly, is a ‘catalyst class familiar’?” I asked.

Cyprianus fluttered his pages gently, apparently pleased. For all his irritability, he seemed happy enough to answer all my questions. Then again, I guess that was his main purpose.

“’Catalyst class’ refers to my functionality. Familiars are organized into three basic classes according to how they serve their masters. As a catalyst, I act as both a channel and receptacle for your magical ability.”

That sounded…kinda cool actually. Magic was cool. Finally, one upside to getting teleported to a literal hellscape.

“Hold up, you said there were three classes. That means there are two more other than catalyst.”

“It warms my bindings to see you understand basic arithmetic.” I scowled at the naked sarcasm in his voice but let him speak without interrupting again. “Yes, there are three classes of familiar, the other two being implement class and adjutant class, though I assure you they are inferior to catalysts in every regard,” he said authoritatively. I thought his pride might be coloring his opinion a little but wisely kept that to myself.

“Do you have any further questions, master?” my familiar asked.

A thousand, but I couldn’t put them to words at the moment. I shook my head, then leaned back against the wall and looked up through the hole in the ceiling. My brain hurt trying to process all the new things I’d learned and everything that had happened to me over what felt like the span of a couple minutes. Something wet hit my forehead and I blinked as it started to rain outside.

Yesterday I was hanging out with my friends, last night I was studying for finals with David and now…

“Jesus,” I said with a sigh, suddenly feeling very tired.

“What’s ‘Jesus’, master?” the book perked up with curiosity. “Is this a term from your world? Your tone would suggest it’s an expletive.”

I let out an exhausted laugh.

“Forget it, Cyprianus, I’m just- just taking it all in.”

The book slowly lifted off my lap to bob around my head in lazy semi-circles. The purple glow of its eye swept over me searchingly.

“I understand that it must be overwhelming to a feeble mortal mind such as yours. If you need a moment, please, take as long as you require,” he said.

“No need,” I shook my head. I pushed myself off the floor and walked toward the window facing the courtyard. A cool breeze whistled through it, pushing my hair back from my face as I heard the rumble of thunder off in the distance. “If I don’t do anything, I’ll die. The best thing to do now is act.”

Speaking it made it true and I felt resolve replace the cold dread that had weighed me down since the moment I’d stared out onto miles and miles of nothing.

So, I got dropped in the middle of world that combined the worst parts of the Walking Dead, Harry Potter and Dark Souls, so what? At least I didn’t have to take my bio final anymore.

Now, all I had to do was survive.