Rodent kept his word, taking only what he needed: a spare satchel with goodies. He tied what appeared to be a grappling hook to a hook attached to his belt.

Soon, he was dressed for adventure in garb not of his own.

He stopped before a mirror, which showed the tall, lanky man who, despite his clothes, did not belong in this world. He was too clean, too green, and unprepared. He always imagined dressing like a hero would make him feel like one.

But he was still the same Rodent underneath those clothes.

Enough of that. Rodent shook his head. You're shooting yourself in the foot before you even begin. Full confidence. Always.

Feeling more secure, Rodent left the room.

Beatrice was waiting for him at the front entrance, feeling small and sweet while holding a sack of what appeared to be food and water. Her head was lowered, but she wore a smile—the sight must have been too hard. However, as Rodent neared, she was forced to raise her head.

Surprise passed across her expression.

"My…" The old lady clasped her hands together as her lips quivered. "T-Those clothes. They fit you rather well."

Rodent was quiet as he nodded. "Yeah. They do."

Beatrice tried to recover her smile while offering him the sack. "Here. This should last you the trip—ration it out, please."

Rodent kneeled and took the supplies. "Thank you."

Beatrice finally did smile. "You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"I know." Rodent nodded, smiling. "But I'm going to do it anyway."

Sadly, Beatrice nodded as well, knowing this was the only way.

----------------------------------------

Rodent was surprised to step outside and see most of the villagers gathered outside the house. They wore plain, basic clothes, and most seemed unwashed. His heart quickened at having so many people focused on him, especially since he was in this world where nobody knew him.

Beatrice also stood silently at his side.

"What's going on here?" Rodent asked.

The people looked amongst themselves until one was elected to step forward, a man who pressed a hand against his chest. Rodent knew him to be the man from the story who endured Steinith's knee against him. He was an older, bigger gentleman who seemed—like everyone else—to have his form shrivelled.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"We… don't know who you are, stranger." The older man glanced back at the crowd. "But there's been a lot of activity since you arrived." He raised a hand to the young woman Steinith had picked up before. "You even saved my daughter."

"Saved?" Rodent didn't mean to repeat the word as it slipped from his lips; he was forced to finish his thought aloud. "That's giving me too much credit. I just stepped in—that's all." He looked at the rest of the crowd. "I didn't save anyone. You're all still trapped."

"And that is our fate." The older man stepped away. "Because we are the ones that became complacent. We're the ones unable to escape or fight back." He laid a hand on Rodent's shoulder. "Look at you. You're dressed for the world now. Take it, and go. I doubt Beatrice would mind."

Beatrice, given attention, nodded.

Rodent, however, shook his head. "I can't."

"You can! You can." The older man squeezed Rodent's shoulder. "Too many people have already died for us. Died when they could have escaped." He removed his hand, stepping away. "We can't let that happen again. We cannot bear the weight of another dead soul." His head shook. "The guilt is too much."

Rodent shook. "So... what do you want me to do? Leave? Just like that?"

"Yes! Yes! Go elsewhere—the mainland, perhaps." The older man rejoined the crowd. "Go where you can live. Become stronger, bring help maybe." He looked to Steinith's hut. "So long as the help is strong enough." He looked back. "Even then, we just want you to live... and nothing more."

Rodent, for whatever reason, started to chuckle and laugh. "Ha! Fat chance of that!"

The older man choked.

"And I'm not running off with a dead man's stuff and leaving you all to suffer." Rodent slapped the air and stood proud. "Trust me. I'll grab that sword and scare Steinith with his reflection."

The old man was shocked. "F-FOOL! You won't make it! Nobody in HISTORY has done it!"

"Yeah? Well, that's them, and I'm me." Rodent stuck out his thumb, tapping it against his chest. "Records can be broken, after all."

"FOOL!"

"Damn straight." Rodent smirked. "Just watch. I'll get that sword and..."

The people waited.

And waited.

The older man spoke. "T-Then… what?"

Rodent bore an open smile. "Gotcha! You'll have to wait until I come back to hear about how the rest of the story goes." Rodent tapped his pole against the ground, a sack fastened to its end, as he began forward. "Prepare for my return! I want a full audience."

The crowd was forced to part as Rodent walked through their middle. They stared at him in disbelief, not knowing how someone could be like this—how they could be so loose to the point of recklessness with their lives.

But Rodent held up his smile as he continued on.

He did not have the strength to help them.

But he did have the will and the desire.

And maybe, along the way, he could compensate for that first part.