Turns out, they didn’t speak English or Spanish. I hit the bottom of the escarpment ramp at a trot, eager to get behind the safety of the wooden walls. I made it within fifty feet when the guards over the gate shouted down to me.

“Who goes there?” they yelled in a rough guttural language.

To my amazement I realized that I could understand the words, which sounded like a cross between Klingon and Russian, and was able to reply.

“A traveler, seeking a bed and a meal.” I shouted up. Remote communities on Earth were either big on hospitality or horribly xenophobic.

“Charity? Or can you pay?” shouted the one on the left.

Shit, I didn’t have any money. Or did I? I remembered the pieces of square and circular metal I’d found in the backpack upon my arrival. I’d given them a brief glance when I first arrived but hadn’t really taken any opportunity to examine them. After my tussle with the trio of terror in the woods I had completely forgotten about them.

“Uh, one second.” I replied as I took my backpack off and started to fish out the pieces. My hike and jostling job down the escarpment road had settled the coins near the bottom of my pack and by the time I gathered them all the guards were beginning to look bored. I examined the coins, as that is what they were, in the last rays of the evening. The square pieces turned out to be bronze and made up most of the haul. The ten remaining pieces were all circular and made of what looked to me like silver. I kept a few of the bronze pieces in my hand as I stowed the rest back in my pack and stood up.

“Maybe?” I shouted up and revealed my handful of bronze as finished my walk up to the gate.

Lefty chuckled and said something in a low tone to the one on the right and then promptly disappeared behind the wall. A few seconds later a postern door set into the gate opened and the guard motioned for me to come in. I’d never seen a gate equipped with one, but it seemed to make sense. While the gates could stand open during the day a normal sized door was far more economical at night and didn’t jeopardize the integrity of the overall structure if properly constructed and barred.

I walked through without hesitation and turned back to see the guard shut the door, and then secure it with multiple iron bars. I carefully schooled the look on my face as the guard effortlessly maneuvered the bars, which experience told me should have weighed between a hundred and a hundred and fifty pounds each, with a single hand. Eolia had warned me to not reveal my status to anybody other than my teacher and I’d already decided to do my best to not act like a complete rube. I was already starting off behind the eight ball by not knowing basic prices for goods and services, place names, or having a plausible story for being here. No need to compound it by gawking at the freakishly strong guard while he handled weights in a manner that would have qualified him for strongman competitions back home.

The guard finished with the bars and turned around to face me. He looked to be around forty years old, with closed cropped black hair. His cheekbones had a vaguely Asian cast to them, but his eyes looked more European. He was wearing what appeared to be boiled leather armor over clothes that looked remarkably like my own. A short sword that looked to be specifically designed to stab fleshy things was at his waist, while a shield and spear rounded out his armament. Shoes, much like the sandals I was wearing, completed the outfit.

“So, what brings a traveler all the way out here, and so close to dark?” He asked, with an eyebrow raised

“For tonight, just food and a place to sleep. I’m looking for someone and was told they lived somewhere in this area.” I said. I didn’t see any need to lie; I’d have to ask around tomorrow to find the Hermit that Eolia had told me to look for and I really was hungry.

“You can get food and a room from Irma, she’s just down the way. Owns what passes for an Inn here. I can probably help you find whomever it is you’re looking for, depending on why you’re looking.” He said.

“A hermit,” I answered, “but I don’t know his name. I was told I had to find him by a go…uh…an acquaintance.” I winced and hastily added, “For what it’s worth, I don’t mean to cause trouble for him or anybody else here.”

He looked at me suspiciously. I didn’t blame him in the least. My slip was obvious. In hindsight, I should have come up with a better reason than “somebody told me to” but with the excitement of the day I wasn’t exactly on top of my game.

“That’s what every troublemaker says,” he grumbled just loudly enough for me to hear him. “Malak!” He called to the other guard on the wall above the gate, “I’m taking the traveler to Irma, if you see anything I expect you to sound the horn. If I’m going to be too long I’ll send Theodric to keep watch with you.”

The younger guard nodded and turned back to watching out over the road. Lefty started to stride into the small village as I followed. Like the walls, it appeared most structures in the village were made from whole logs. As we walked through town I didn’t notice any homes that looked to be made from processed lumber. It made sense in a way, if this were iron age civilization there was a chance that sawmill technology and waterwheels hadn’t managed to become widespread. Making processed lumber without the advantages of technology was incredibly time consuming. Villagers in an out of the way area like this wouldn’t spend the time on making lumber for homes when logs chinked with moss and mud served the same purpose and they absolutely wouldn’t be able to afford importing it.

We stopped a few hundred feet later in front of one of the larger buildings. Single story, it followed the same construction pattern as the rest of the village but seemed to be a bit sturdier and more care had been given to the exterior. The roof wasn’t thatched, but instead seemed to be covered in wooden shingles, and there was a sign nailed to the wall that had a picture of a glass on it. Lefty, who hadn’t said a word the entire walk, opened the door and motioned for me to go in. The interior was far less rustic, the floor was flagstone, the walls were whitewashed, and there was a fire burning in the hearth. A few people, dressed in a similar fashion to Lefty, were drinking at a few of the tables scattered around the room. I’m not ashamed to admit that their presence gave me a bit of relief. The feeling I was getting from Lefty wasn’t one of warm and fuzzy feelings. After the slip of my tongue he had gone from cautiously welcoming to barely-masked hostility. I wasn’t sure who this hermit was, but Lefty seemed to be rather protective of him.

A jerk of the chin from Lefty motioned me toward one of the abandoned tables, and as I took off my pack and sat down, he walked into the back room. A few minutes later he emerged along with a rather striking blonde woman and a man that was well-muscled enough to pass for a professional wrestler or an Austrian bodybuilder back on Earth. Lefty and Muscles walked over to the table I was sitting at and made themselves comfortable while the blonde went around to each table and leaned over, whispering. I suppose she was telling them that they needed to leave, because there was a mass exodus from each table after she passed. When the last person had vacated the room, she ensured the door was firmly shut before walking over to the rest of us and sitting down.

Muscles broke the tense silence, “So, stranger. Start talking.”

I picked my pack up, ignoring the three tensing up, and removed the piece of paper. Flicking it across the table, I said, “Read that and you’ll know exactly as much as I do.”

Blondie picked the paper up and unfolded it while the other two kept their eyes glued to me. A few seconds later she handed it to Lefty, who read it and passed it along to Muscles.

“Who gave you that?” Lefty asked.

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“Can’t say” I replied.

“Can’t or won’t?” came his rebuttal.

“Most likely both, but let’s stick with won’t for right now” I shot back. “Look, I realize you’re suspicious of me. Can we at least start with introductions and a meal? I’ve been walking all day, I’m hungry, a little thirsty, and assuming the bronze I showed you is a valid currency here I’m willing to pay. I’m fine with an interrogation, but let’s do it on a full stomach at least.”

Lefty and Blondie were staring at me like a puzzle when Muscles chuckled. “He’s right. Did you bother introducing yourself at all, or did you just bring him straight here?” he asked Lefty.

“He made a verbal slip at the gate, so I brought him here.” Came the answer.

“Well, maybe a little common courtesy would go a long way. He hasn’t caused any ruckus yet and he’s offering coin for food and drink. To deny his request without cause would cause bad karma. I am Batuhan. If you would wait for a moment, I will fetch food and drink.” He said before standing and walking to the back.

Lefty, who I swear still hadn’t blinked, said, “I am Tarkhan.”

Blondie was next, “Irma, I’m Batuhan’s wife.”

“I’m Karlus. It’s a pleasure to be formally introduced.” I replied, “Now, how can I convince you to either give me directions to the Hermit or take me there?”

Irma gave Tarkhan a sidelong glance before answering me, “The Hermit values his privacy. Without proof that he’s accepted you as a student, beyond a vague note on a slip of paper, I’m not sure that I’m willing to disturb him. Is there nothing else you can tell us? Such as how you knew he was here to begin with?”

“A…mentor, I suppose you could call her, arranged for me to be here. It was her that made the original communication to the Hermit. She left me about twelve hours travel down the road from here and will likely be uh, indisposed, for the foreseeable future.” I answered.

Batuhan appeared from the back room with a tray that he placed on the table. He placed a bowl of stew in front of me, along with a clay mug of cider, a piece of bread, and a bit of butter. “It’s simple fare for tonight, but the stew is pretty tasty. One of the hunters bagged a Three-Horned Breeze Stag just before dusk yesterday and it’s been stewing all day today. Two bronze bao for supper, four for a room tonight and breakfast tomorrow.”

My reply consisted of me counting out six of the bronze pieces and stacking them on the table before taking a bite of stew. Batuhan wasn’t joking, the stew was delicious. While the vegetables were unfamiliar, they were tender and complimented the meat, which practically melted in my mouth. Conversation around the table pretty well stopped while I inhaled my food. The cider was crisp and refreshing, while the bread and butter served perfectly to mop up what was left of the stew in my bowl. I’ve always appreciated a good meal after a long day, but the energy that flooded me after eating was not natural. It was almost as if the meal contained all the benefits of a massage, hot shower, and cup of coffee rolled into one. Within a few minutes of finishing I felt completely awake and refreshed.

I suppose my expression of relaxation must have shown, because Batuhan was the first to break the silence, “The recipe was handed down to me by my Grandmother.” He winked at me before adding, “Throw in some spirit beast meat and it’s hard to beat, eh?”

“Spirit beast?” I blurted. Immediately I wanted to kick myself. I’d like to be able to say that my experiences over the past day had worn me out, but in reality I’ve never been much for acting and subterfuge. Even my parents, before they died, were always able to nail me in a lie. A strong poker face is not one of my best qualities.

All three exchanged curious glances. “Are there no spirit beasts where you’re from?” questioned Irma.

“Nope, I’ve never even seen one that I’m aware of.”

Tarkhan was the next to ask me a question, “And where are you from?”

“It’s a very long way away. I was removed, for lack of a better word, from my previous home. That same person arranged for the Hermit to teach me as a form of compensation for my removal.” I responded.

“So, you mean to tell us that you got dragged from a far away land, dropped twelve hours away by foot, and then managed to make it to this remote village? I don’t buy that story Karlus, if that is your name. Those woods are packed with all manner of things that would pick you off in a heartbeat. Autumn Fur bears, Shadow-Fur wolves, not to mention the forest drakes. Even the merchants that visit bring third tier guards at a minimum” he said, his tone almost mocking.

“I appreciate that it’s a far-fetched story. I get that. Hell, if I was in your position I wouldn’t believe me either. The only living things I saw my whole walk here were three little green guys that tried to kill me and some fish in a stream.” I tried very hard to keep my tone even. Not being able, or willing, to tell them the full truth was no doubt hurting my chances, but I hoped that by staying honest I could win them over. Eolia was right. Telling them that I was dead in my home reality and had been transported here through the power of a Goddess to learn how to control my granted powers from another person that had been through the same experience would get me branded as a lunatic. I’d lived through the experience, sort of, and still was having trouble wrapping my mind around it.

“I’m sure that the fact I’m not giving you a name doesn’t help matters. All I’m asking for is the location of the Hermit. I’d prefer an escort if the woods are so dangerous, but I’m willing to go alone if you’ll just tell me where to find him.” I continued. “If that isn’t an option maybe someone could deliver a message to him? Take the note,” nodding to the note still on the table, “to him. That way I won’t know where he is, you haven’t let any information slip, and he can decide if it’s the real deal or not. If I had more evidence that I’m telling the truth then I’d be the first to volunteer it. Unfortunately, I only have what I’ve been told by my benefactress and that note is my only physical proof.”

Irma had been nodding slowly as I was speaking. When I was finished she spoke up, “I’ll agree to that. Stay here for tonight and I’ll take the message myself in the morning. I would ask that you stay within the village until I return, however. Do you have the funds to stay here for a few days, if it comes down to that?”

“I believe so, yes. I still have a few bronze coins, what did you call them? Bao?” I answered.

Batuhan nodded.

“Where I come from a bao is a steamed bun. Pretty interesting coincidence” I said.

“Eh, we have those too” said Batuhan, “I think that’s where the name for the coinage actually came from. A bao normally costs a bronze bao. A normal one, at least. Anything with a spirit beast filling or any special herbs will be more expensive, of course.”

Tarkhan was apparently not much for small talk. As soon as Batuhan and I had started to talk food he stood. “I’m heading back to the wall. Not fair for me to leave Malak alone on duty after I volunteered to help him cover the shift. Karlus, stay in the village tomorrow. I don’t agree with Irma taking your message, but I won’t stop her. I will, however, be keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t try to follow her. Batuhan, Irma, always a pleasure to see you both.” He gave each a brief nod before glaring at me and taking his leave.

When I was positive that he was out of earshot I spoke up, “He seems rather protective of the Hermit. You all do. Mind if I ask why?”

Batuhan, who was gathering up the empty dishes, said, “I’ll let Irma or Tarkhan handle that one while I wash these and get us all some refills.”

Irma rolled her eyes at him before starting to speak, “He’s sort of a village protector. I’ve lived here for a few decades now, but according to the Elders of the village he’s been a fixture in this valley for as long as they can remember. He was here when their parents were born, and their parents, and so on. The village is only a few hundred years old, but he’s been here the whole time. He’s not big on company so we do our best to not disturb him.”

Her casual announcement of somebody living for hundreds of years shook me. Was this teacher that Eolia lined up for me even a human? I did mention dragons during world selection and all the fantasy literature I’d read in my previous life depicted them as living for hundreds of years, thousands in some cases.

“So, if he’s that old, is he a dragon or something?” I blurted. I really need to keep a lid on my stupid mouth.

Apparently Irma found my slip amusing, because she started to giggle, which swiftly turned into a full-blown bout of laughter. She was still sitting at the table laughing hard enough that tears were starting to roll out of her eyes when Batuhan came back in with our cider refills. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow which I chose to interpret as a “why is my wife laughing so hard that she’s crying and what did you say to make her that way” non-verbal cue.

“I was just asking how the Hermit was so old,” I claimed.

Between guffaws Irma managed to choke out, “He asked…if the Hermit…was a dragon.”

Batuhan looked back at me, “I really want to know where you’re from. You called goblins “little green guys” earlier, you don’t know the first thing about dragons, the spirit beast meat had a far more pronounced effect on you than it should have, and I can’t get a read on your aura. You’re either the most accomplished liar I’ve ever seen or the most ignorant adult that’s ever lived.”

“Like I said, it’s from somewhere very, very, very, far away. I’m not sure how to begin to describe it without you both thinking I’m lying or insane. I was told that I can explain everything to the Hermit, but nobody else” I said.

I suppose it was my continued refusal to reveal anything about myself or my circumstances that finally killed the mood but as the conversation tapered off we sat in silence while I finished my drink. After the last drops were gone Irma stood and reclaimed the mug before saying, “Well, tomorrow we’ll see if you’re telling the truth about him being a teacher. For tonight, at least, let’s get you settled into a room.”