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The hunter had certain expectations for expeditions like this. The Bronze Legion would saddle him with some clueless rookie, who would crash through the forest like a thunderstorm, alerting everything within a mile that they were coming. Then, they’d have to travel multiple days to get to the villages where the reports came from, the idiot soldier relying on him for everything from food to fire. Finally, when they arrived they would find, at best, an abandoned burrow, the supposed monsters having fled at the walking cacophony that was the legionnaire. 

He’d been pleasantly surprised that he’d actually been assigned a halfway competent legionnaire. They’d worked together before, and he could be assured she could at least handle herself outside the city. 

He should have known his luck would turn from there. In exchange for a competent partner he found himself in an odd set of circumstances. 

He had left to check snares he laid earlier over some rabbit trails he’d noticed. One of the traps had caught one, and he was on his way back to the campsite when he noticed it. 

Down the road, in the center of the packed earthen path, lay a woman. She was dressed in black, a buttoned shirt, pants, and leather shoes. She had olive skin, nearly-black hair, and her eyes remained closed. 

The hunter watched for minutes, expecting a trap. There were no signs of movement in the forest to either side of the road. He walked a wide circle, checking the forest all around the woman, but there was no sign of anyone but her in the area. There were no tracks on the road, either. 

The hunter drew his short sword, mainly used for clearing brush, and slowly approached the unconscious woman. She did not stir at his approaching footsteps. Cautiously, he crouched down, and shook her shoulder. 

Hazel eyes snapped open, blearily focusing on his face. They widened in shock, and the woman pulled away from him suddenly, scrambling backwards to her feet.

“What?!” She exclaimed.

She dusted the dirt off her sleeves as she took in her surroundings, wide-eyed. 

The hunter didn’t have the chance to say anything as the woman turned, taking in the forest and returning to meet his questioning gaze.

“What the fuck?” She asked.

⇆

“What the fuck?” was the only question she could think to ask. 

She was in a forest. She hadn’t been in a forest since she went camping… many years ago. She didn’t recognize the clothes she was wearing. 

More worryingly, she didn’t recognize herself. She couldn’t see her face, but the olive skin of her hands, long curly dark hair, and slender frame all seemed simultaneously new and entirely natural. She was more disoriented by the fact that she wasn’t disoriented. She felt like herself. She didn’t feel like she was any different from before… Before what? 

She took in the features she could see, felt at her torso and face with her hands, as if to convince herself that what she saw and felt was real. She even pinched her face to wake herself from a dream. She was awake. This was real. This was her, now. Her attention turned outward.

Across from her stood a tall man, dressed in what appeared to be genuine leather armor over sturdy outdoorsman’s clothes. He had a sword in his right hand that he kept between himself and her, and a rabbit in his left. The sword wasn’t pointed at her, which she took to be a good sign. His skin was deeply tanned from the sun and his short hair was a sandy blond. 

“Miss… who are you? What are you doing here?” he asked cautiously. 

She thought furiously. She didn’t know what she was doing here. She didn’t know where “here” was. She didn’t know who this man was either, or if she could trust him. 

She also didn’t know enough to lie. To lie, or to lie convincingly, she had to know what he would accept as truth, so she could build a convincing facsimile. A convincing lie was based in truth, and the truth was that she was absolutely clueless. 

“You can call me Lll…” Her voice trailed off as she had a realization. Her old name wouldn’t work anymore. It didn’t fit her anymore. Moreover, she realized she didn’t want that name. She didn’t want what it meant for her, or the memories the name brought with it.

She had an opportunity here. She could define herself, without being defined by anyone else. She could take a new name here, become a new person. 

The man was staring at her as she thought. 

She would stick with the “L,” as she had already started, but what name to choose? Should she go with something mythological, like Lillith? Too on-the-nose. Plus, if anyone recognized the name Lillith it could be a little embarrassing. She could go with something close, though.

“Lillian,” she finally said. “You can call me Lillian.” 

“Well, Miss Lillian, could you answer my questions? Who are you, and what are you doing here?” the man responded. 

“As to what I’m doing here…” Lillian began, “I’d have to know where ‘here’ is, to answer that question.”

“You don’t know where you are?” He looked at her in disbelief. 

She shook her head. She had no reason to lie. More than that, she had no ability to. To lie to someone, one had to know what truths were expected and reasonable in a given situation. In this situation, standing across a dirt road from a man with a sword in the woods, no lie she could conjure up would seem plausible. 

“If you don’t know where you are, then how did you get here?” He asked incredulously.

“An excellent question.” One she would like the answer to as well. She hoped playing the vague mystery card let her avoid deeper questioning. 

The blond man waited for her to continue, but she closed her lips and waited for him to speak instead. Most people dislike silences, so he may tell her something useful just to fill the space.

“We’re on the road between Odsen and Grissin’s Vale,” He explained. He must have noticed her blank look, as he continued, “in the Stormwall Mountains.” 

“Are Odsen and Grisham’s Vale towns?” Lillian asked.

Disbelief spread across the man’s face. He put his sword away and ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth a short distance. He took a step closer to Lillian, but she backed away a step in turn. 

“You really don’t know?” His expression had turned from disbelieving to something resembling worry. 

“I’ve never heard of either place before,” she answered. “Or the Stormwall Mountains.”

The disbelief returned to his face. “You must have heard of the Stormwall Mountains, they’re the only mountain chain on this continent!” 

“Have you heard of the Himalayas, then?” Lillian asked petulantly. “Or the Andes, the Rockies, the Appalachians, the Alps, or the Caucasus?” 

She rattled off mountain chains she knew of as the man’s expression turned to bafflement. She had never heard of the Stormwall Mountains, how could she have? Just the same, how could he have heard of any of the mountains she had just listed? They belonged to a different world. 

“No… I’ve never heard of any of those,” the man responded. 

While she was still feeling petulant, she wanted to get another thing off her chest that had started to bother her.

“Also, I’ve given you my name. Now you’ve investigated my personal history, so I should be owed at least the courtesy of your name.” 

“I’m Eskan,” he said hesitantly. “I apologize, it’s just rather unusual to find unconscious women on the road. It’s even more unusual that a strange person on the road isn’t some sort of bandit ploy.”

The mention of bandits startled Lillian. How long had she been out here, alone and unconscious on the road? Her eyes roamed, taking in the shadowed forest with a new intensity. 

Eskan must have noticed, as he said, “There’s nothing and nobody nearby. I’ve checked.” He held up the rabbit. “Why don’t you come with me? We can eat and I’ll introduce you to my partner.” 

Lillian watched Eskan as she thought. He had found her, alone on the road, and despite the fact that it could have been a trap, he had woken her, talked to her, and finally invited her to join him and a mysterious partner. He had been nothing but courteous, and she had no reason to refuse him. 

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She hesitated anyway. A leftover instinct from a previous life insisted she couldn’t trust anyone being at all charitable. She forced that instinct down. What else could she do? She could set off along the road, alone, with no idea where she was going or what to expect. She could try to get by in a new place, with no clue on the culture or economy or any other knowledge that would be expected to be common sense in this place. She had no idea what she’d do for a living, either. She couldn’t imagine many of the skills from her old life translated well to a place where people wore armor and swords and traveled through the woods catching rabbits to eat. 

So, she would follow Eskan into the woods to meet his mysterious partner, eat a rabbit, and decide her future from there. 

She gave a deep sigh, and stepped toward Eskan. 

“Lead on, then,” she said, trying to keep the apprehension out of her voice. 

Eskan frowned. “You still haven’t answered my first question. Who are you?”

“I said you can call me Lillian, as for who I am…” she smiled, hoping her small deflection would be enough, “I’m a new woman.”

It must have worked, as Eskan turned and silently led her into the woods.

⇆

Eskan grimaced as he led the woman calling herself Lillian to his evening camp. She tripped, stumbled, and fell over a tangle of roots for the third time in thirty minutes. 

He’d counted himself lucky that his legionnaire partner could handle herself. He hadn’t realized it was just the gods preemptively balancing out the seemingly impossible clumsiness of Lillian. 

It didn’t help that her shoes were terrible for traversing anything but paved streets and her clothes were already becoming torn after just a few encounters with thorns and branches. 

The sun was rapidly setting, and the poor visibility wouldn’t help the unfortunate woman’s footing, so he tried to hurry her along to the camp. 

“How much farther is this camp anyway?” Lillian asked for the third time. 

Eskan reminded himself she was not whining, just curious. The question irritated him anyway. She seemed to have little to no comprehension of how long it took to travel any distance. 

“I told you it was a little over a mile and a half,” Eskan said, teeth clenched.

“Right, but that doesn’t tell me how long it’ll take to get there.”

Eskan sighed in irritation. “It doesn’t matter. It will take longer than usual anyway since you are slowing me down. We will get there when we get there.”

“Entirely vague and unhelpful…” Lillian muttered. 

Eskan decided he’d pretend he didn’t hear that. 

“So this partner of yours…” Lilian began, but trailed off.

“Yes?” Eskan asked. She had a habit of giving leading statements and expecting them to be answered like questions. He briefly wondered if it was just some foreign custom he didn’t recognize, but she didn’t have any discernible accent, nor did her clothes mark her as a foreigner. 

“What are they like?” Lillian asked. 

Eskan considered for a moment, stepping over a fallen trunk, before he answered, “We’ve worked together before. You might like her,”

“Her?” Lillian interrupted.

“Yes, her,” Eskan’s tone was intended to dissuade further interruption. “As I said, we’ve worked together before. As far as legionnaires go, she’s one of the better ones.”

“She’s a legionnaire? Like a soldier?” Lillian asked. “And you aren’t one? You talk like you’re not one, but you’re wearing armor and carrying a sword.” 

“Yes, legionnaires are soldiers, technically. No, I am not one,” he answered. “I am a hunter, the sword and armor I use are substantially different from Legion-standard equipment. You’ll see.” 

Eskan looked back at the dark-haired woman struggling to keep up through the brush. He still didn’t believe she truly had never heard of the Stormwall Mountains, or the city of Odsen, which she was found on the road to. 

He also couldn’t believe any of the nonsense names she had rattled off were real mountain ranges. He knew the geography of the Empire well enough to know the names she gave were gibberish. 

Still, he wouldn’t leave anyone alone in the forest at night. Especially someone so apparently clueless and unprotected. He tried to stifle his frustration, but only became more exasperated as he had to help Lillian up yet again. He didn’t see anything she could possibly have tripped over.

⇆

Lillian trailed behind Eskan as the blond hunter dragged her through the rapidly-darkening forest. She silently cursed the blond man and he led her over logs, snarled roots, slippery mud, and thorny bushes. 

He must be doing it on purpose. He knew her clothes and especially shoes were unsuited to this terrain. 

Not that she had known, herself. She had set out confidently, striding behind Eskan into the trees. Not more than twenty steps off the road, her leather shoes slipped in the loose dirt and detritus of the forest floor, toppling her for the first of many times that evening. 

When she had asked how far his camp was, he had replied with the distance, but that didn’t tell her how long it would take to walk it. She knew how long it would take to walk that far on paved city streets, but had no idea how long it would take to cross the same distance through trees, bushes and, apparently, many tripping hazards.

When Eskan had called his partner a legionnaire, it had conjured a certain image of bands of metal armor and a red shield, but Eskan didn’t look much like how she imagined a hunter, so she wouldn’t assume anything when it came to his partner. 

Lillian knew she was a woman, though, which raised further questions for her. 

“Is it common for women to be soldiers?” she asked Eskan, after a long period of quiet trudging. 

“Not as common as it is for men, but common enough I suppose,” he answered. “We’ll be at the camp soon. Ask her about it when we get there, she’ll be able to tell you more.”

Lillian knew a dismissal when she heard one, so she swallowed the additional questions that his one answer had led to. 

She struggled to keep Eskan’s pace, but shortly before the sun set, the hunter led her up a short hill to a small clearing. Two tents stood next to a lively fire, a large pot hung over the flames on a tripod. 

A blonde woman dressed in similar traveling clothes to Eskan’s stood from attending the pot. Her hair was tied into a long braid behind her back. As she took in Lillian walking slightly behind Eskan, she picked up a sword propped on the log beside her. 

“Astra,” Eskan greeted, “I’ve brought company.” 

“I see that,” Astra dryly replied. “Who might our guest be?”

“Would you prefer to introduce yourself?” Eskan turned to ask Lillian.

“Hello,” Lillian greeted Astra nervously. 

Now in the light of the fire Lillian could see her more clearly. She was pale, where Eskan was suntanned, but she was of similar height and hair color. Her features were fine, her sharp jaw and clear blue eyes gave her an air of intensity. 

“I’m Lillian…” her eyes darted to the rabbit in Eskan’s hand. A little reminder of where the new her came from wouldn’t hurt her. “Hare. You can call me Lillian.”

Eskan’s eyes shot to Lillian when she added the until-recently-nonexistent surname, but he didn’t say anything about it. 

“I found Miss ‘Hare,’ here, unconscious on the road. She claims to not know where she is or how she got here.” He informed his partner. His tone conveyed his suspicions.

“I know I was on the road between Odsen and Grissin’s Vale,” she looked to Eskan for confirmation, to which he nodded, “but I don’t know where those places are in relation to anything else, or how I ended up there unconscious.” 

Lillian stiffened as Astra suddenly shot forward and wrapped her in a hug. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides and her breath caught. She didn’t feel like she could breathe again until Astra let go and laid her hands on her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Astra asked, looking into Lillian’s eyes. 

“Y-yes,” Lillian had to look away, the other woman’s face too close to her own. 

Her discomfort wasn’t only the closeness, the intimacy of the hug or long eye contact. Those all contributed, but something Lillian chose to ignore underpinned the discomfort. She shrugged herself free of Astra’s grasp. 

“Well, why don’t we get you some food and rest and see if any memories come up in the meantime,” Astra said as she guided Lillian to a seat on a log by the fire. 

Lillian sat apprehensively as Astra began filling the hanging pot with water, and stoking the flames to heat it. She watched as Eskan and Astra set about preparing dinner with practiced efficiency. Astra pulled vegetables and herbs from a pack and set to chopping them and dropping them in the pot over the fire. She chopped the vegetables into bite-sized pieces in her hand before dropping them into a pot, eschewing any cutting surface. 

Lillian was fascinated by watching Eskan skin and butcher the rabbit, none of the meat wasted and piece by piece it went into the water. The organs, bones and skin were set aside. 

Eskan cleaned his knife with practiced motions of long habit, and set the knife aside on a stone as he turned to a pack at his side for something. Lillian didn’t see what he was doing any more. The knife had taken her full attention. 

The knife rocked slowly, its balance shifting as it settled. Lillian watched the blade slowly rock, something hypnotizing about the motion. As the blade shifted up and down, there was another motion. A subtle fraction of every vertical stroke shifted into a horizontal movement before sliding back up vertically. The tip of the blade traced a nearly imperceptible oval, not a vertical line.

She couldn’t look away. She could practically feel that change in motion, from vertical to horizontal. There was almost something tangible, in the minute fraction where the movement changed from one direction to another. She felt it like a part of her own body.

The term ‘proprioception’ came to mind. The sense of the body, how the brain knew exactly where its limbs were in relation to each other. She could feel it in the motion of the knife, as if it were a phantom limb.

Astra might have said something. Lillian’s focus was elsewhere. 

The knife rocked forward again, blade descending, and when the fraction of motion changed, Lillian grabbed that something. She reached with the phantom limb she felt. She grabbed the almost-tangible ‘change’ in the motion of the blade and pulled. 

The vertical motion changed as Lillian pulled on it. She pulled on the motion of the knife and the knife moved. The blade turned, and blurred toward Lillian’s face. She was barely able to drop out of the blade’s trajectory with a shriek.

The blade shot past her, fractions of an inch from her head, as she landed on the dirt. She heard the rustle of leaves and sticks as the knife plunged into the forest.

She sat, momentarily dazed on the dirt next to the fire. Her thoughts came slowly. Her vision swum, leaving trails as she looked from the stone where the knife had sat, to the fire. The fire left trails of light in her sight as she looked to Astra.

Astra was standing, having drawn her sword in an instant, looking outward for someone or something attacking the camp. Lillian’s vision blurred again as she looked up to Eskan. Eskan was staring in the direction his knife had just hurtled out of the blue. His wide-eyed gaze dropped to Lillian. 

Lillian was tired. She had barely woken up a couple hours ago, but since then she’d renamed herself, learned she might be in a whole different world, hiked through a forest and had a dagger attack her face. And she had met Eskan and Astra, who were wary of and friendly to her in turn. Her thoughts came slowly.

Lillian gave a tired chuckle to her strange situation. She looked to the blonde swordswoman, now staring down at her with concern in her intense blue eyes. A phrase came to mind. 

“Per aspera ad astra,” Lillian muttered. She gave a tired huff of a laugh, then she collapsed. 

⇆

Eskan looked from the collapsed Lillian to Astra, who was moving to check on her. 

“What the fuck?” 

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