Amidst the bustle of the magical city in Niagara falls, a 14-year-old apprentice of apothecary was suffering from empathetic feedback.

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Already having confined myself to my bedroom to escape from the bustle of the city, I winced back as a new patron entered the store below my room. This new disruption to my carefully crafted equilibrium sent me into another daze of mental pains as I fought to separate my own emotions from those of the newest customer.

My frequently-present master and owner of this shop, Apothecary Victoria, a 200-year-old elf of great beauty who appeared no older than her mid 30’s, was thankfully not a contributor to my current agony. Her level of self-control and the powers that she bore naturally sealed her emotions away from my newly budding empathic sense. In fact, most of the native city dwellers above the age of 14, ranged anywhere from being somewhat muted to being completely unreadable. They had accomplished this as a byproduct of assimilating elemental stones to aid in strengthening useful aspects of themselves in their daily life.

It was the other Travelers, visitors like me, from an Earthly reality lacking any form of known magic, which were at fault. Traveling to this place of fantasy, which felt too real to be a simple game, they pranced about like sightseers, incognizant of the damage they might do in their normal seeming actions.

“Ugh!” I muffled my cry again as two more Travelers entered the store making me reflexively clasp and hug my pillow around my head in a futile attempt to dampen the boost in sensations and emotions. This had all come from taking up the offer of the wizened turtle lady who excelled in creating artifacts in a nearby store. Seeking to capitalize on my already outrageous level of affinity to all elements, she had invited me over to assimilate elemental stones of an esoteric quality, in part as an academic curiosity for her sake, but also for my protection.

Protecting oneself from the unseen and unknown apparently came at a terrible cost!

“I have to get out of here.” I mumbled to myself. I considered leaving this place and returning to my boring reality, but then I would still have to deal with coming to grips with this side effect once I returned. No, this was something that needed to be adapted to and taken care of now. But where to start?

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Before learning of my current condition, my master had charged me with exploring the outer wilds today, in search of various herbs again. Considering the other options, this actually seemed like a valid idea.

Wasting little time, I gathered up my belongings which would likely be helpful for a day of exploring the wilds beside the outer walls. I hesitated about bringing my staff as my current state might make survival problematic if certain troubles arose. I did not wish to risk losing it in my potential death and subsequent resurrection sans the staff and other equipment.

After weighing the pros and the cons and with a heavy sigh, I gripped the sturdy metal rod and carried it with me down the stairs. “Master.” I called out to my teacher. She was currently engaged with two of the customers in the shop, but she would appreciate being informed, and so I interrupted her. “I’m going to head out to the outer woods to see if such aids my recovery. I’ll be sure to bring back the herbs you requested as well.”

Meeting my gaze, concern and understanding could be seen in her hazel eyes as she quietly nodded and returned to her original conversation with her patrons.

Not wasting another breath or moment to suffer more than necessary, I left the shop and hailed the fastest carriage whose driver did not leak their emotional state all over me, to the edge of the city. Taking less than 20 minutes with occasional mental strains triggered by fellow travelers on the road, we finally reached the gate. Disembarking the carriage, I showed proof of my permission to depart the city with my master’s symbol to the two gate guards, and stepped off the path into the denser foliage.

I did not dawdle, as the nearby surroundings were still quite full of enterprising Travelers, each engrossed in various fetch quests for the day as they dug about for their own local herbs. Setting out to put as much distance as I could between them and myself, I began traveling in earnest.

It took me a good 45 minutes to finally escape the last of the hunters for herbs as well as those that decided to tail me on a whim. Stopping to explain my situation might have done more harm than good in convincing them to leave me be. It was almost a regret, as from past excursions; I had already made quite a name for myself as being the one to follow to get good herbs.

Prior to this time, I had never actually traveled this far out to where I couldn’t see any of the towering structures of the city. Not even from the vantage point in the rare open field I encountered could any trace of civilization be seen. I was still very grateful for the change, as my previously strained mind showed a positive change with exposure to the relatively empty surroundings.

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I still got an occasional taste of emotion as I sensed a horned rabbit, little muskrat, or other creature hidden nearby in the underbrush. To be honest, since I couldn’t see the animals, I couldn’t say for certain what they were, but the emotions that came off of them, were mild and carnal. It was like watching a hungry fly, buzzing off in the distance, land on a piece of leftover food on the counter. It was annoying to see it there, but, if your heart wasn’t set on eating the food later, then it was something you could phase out and ignore.

As I traveled, the growing sound of rushing water entered my senses. Additionally, the faint smell of wood smoke crossed my nose. A smile flashed across my face as I was excited to see what there was to explore. I was admittedly a little concerned that the smoke likely meant people which included risks especially this far out in the wild, but with the ability to come back from the dead as all Travelers could, I decided it was worth the chance.

Walking down the unofficial path made up of faded animal tracks, I came to see a river at the bottom of a small valley. That wasn’t the only thing that I found, as I was quite surprised by what I heard.

“You blasted geezer!” The accusation sounded out in the previously quiet woods. It had the kind of voice you might expect from a wizened old woman, but with an airy and musical quality to it. “If I hadn’t already washed your clothes for the morning, I would have dragged you over to the creek to bash you about the rocks and wrung you out too!” The difference between the voice, words, and the tone it was spoken in made for quite the contradiction.

My eyebrows rose comically with the violent imagery those words brought to mind while another smile tugged at my lips. This certainly sounded interesting, I thought!

“Get off my back you old crone!” Now a male voice filled with the sound of weary wisdom and patience echoed out. “How was I to know that the tarts were to be saved for later?! It’s not like you put a sign on them saying such! Besides, I was hungry!”

Okay, maybe not so much patient. A bemused chucked escaped my lips at this sound of comfortable bickering. They certainly sounded like an old married couple who had lived quite the entertaining life, likely having sired many children and grandchildren.

Silence suddenly pervaded the surroundings, as if my chuckle had broken an unspoken taboo of sorts. A snap of branches behind me made me whirl about with my staff at the ready to face whatever may be.

What I saw truly put me off kilter. An aged woman, appearing of slightly Indian descent with long wispy black hair and trace silver appeared before me. That was where her earthen origins ended. Her magical origins revealed themselves in the form of a double pair of fairy or veiny dragonfly like wings behind her back. Additionally, a gnarled staff topped with a vivid green stone lay gripped in her hand. Upon seeing her visage, I felt like her ever-changing color eyes were alight with hidden knowledge and crafty secrets.

“Well!” She called out indignantly. “Are you going to just stand there all day, or join us for some tarts?! I had been expecting your arrival for some time now.” The light tone of her rebuke got me reoriented somewhat as I seemed to absorb the incredulousness of the situation with faltering stride.

“Sure!?” I replied with hesitant enthusiasm. The old lady took the lead as she walked past me towards the small cottage by the creek. I was bewildered at how she was able to make her voice come from the little house in the distance and then suddenly showing up in the opposite direction, behind me.

Shaking my head and chalking it up to weird magic, I followed behind the elderly lady to her humble looking home.

Pausing at the door, she opened it for me before ushering me inside. As I saw a door mat at the entryway, I made sure to scuff my shoes on it very well before entering. A ghost of a smile crossed the old woman’s face as I did that.

As she let the door close behind the two of us, she spoke up. “I prepared some tarts for you to enjoy, but. . .” She cast a scathing glance at the back of a rocking chair whose inhabitant remained hidden from view, “but there will now be fewer than intended due to someone’s inability to rein in his appetite.”

A heavily wrinkled hand reached out from the hidden confines of the chair as then the occupant stood up, turned, and approached. His visage was that of a man brought low and bent with age with several limp yet furry tails trailing behind him. He looked remarkably like how I’d envision the demi-fox patrol leader who about a month ago explained dungeons and mage stones to me to look, if you’d add a century or two in age.

Earlier, outside the cottage, I didn’t feel inclined to do so, but now, inside their home, I felt an urge to reach out my hand to introduce myself. “Hi I’m. . .”

“Oh, we know who you are.” The old woman interrupted with a humored smile. “Apprentice Andrew Storm, the protégé of Apothecary Victoria and Councilman Monroe.” Here eyes changed color as she continued. “You must congratulate them for me as they finally tied the. . .” *Ahem* “Um never mind.” She added in a lowered tone.

Her eyes then changed color once again as she continued. “You are a Traveler from Missouri USA, legal last name of Mattherson. Your current employment is at a local nursing home as an aid, and your degree of study is. . .” “That is enough Inaaya!” The sharp voice of her husband cut her off mid speech. “I feel you’ve proven your point and also scared the young man a bit.”

I felt a veritable shock go through me at this elderly woman’s unerring statements. My mouth went dry and I couldn’t figure out what to say.

“Oh dear!” The silver haired woman lowered her multicolored eyes in embarrassment. “I am sorry. It is part of my gift and ability to see beyond and . . .” She let he voice fade away as if not sure how to further explain herself as her hand fidgeted.

There was an awkward silence which I felt had grown to be a bit less welcoming since my arrival. I considered beating a polite retreat to the outer woods, but was interrupted mid thought.

“Here, have a tart.” The old fox man thrust a wooden plate holding a delectably smelling pastry of sorts under my nose.

The scent alone brought back memories of my own grandmothers cooking. Nostalgia swept though me easing the growing tension from within. After that first taste of the tart like pastry, I could already feel my fight or flight reflex calming down, allowing me to contemplate what just happened. As my thoughts continued to churn in silence, my mouth grew a little dry from the flaky desert I was indulging in.

Without even being asked, I was silently offered a glass of water which I gladly took and downed. After such, I felt I was able to wet my lips and ready enough to speak, if haltingly. “May. . . may I ask you for your names?”

With a musical laugh the old lady replied. “I shall dispense with our titles, but you may call me Inaaya, of Grams if you prefer, and this,” She said pointing to the fox man, “is Francisi, my husband. Or Frank as I often call him.”

*Groan. . .* I could hear the disgruntlement of the old man roll off of him in a wave. I was about mid laugh when suddenly my mind experienced an enlightening moment.

Thinking back since I first encountered Inaaya outside of the cottage, I hadn’t felt a single emotion from either of them other than what was audibly heard in their tone and seen through their actions. Already I was wigged out by how much they knew about me, but additionally this proved that they were likely close to, or above the power level of my master.

Caution stole over me as I considered what this meeting might entail, as it appeared fully intentional by their words and actions.

“Good.” The old woman said as she observed me making various mental connections. “You appear to have come to the right conclusion. We. . .” She said pointing to the old man and herself. “Are here to give you a little push in the right direction for solving your problems. In addition, we happened to time our arrival to deal with a little goblin incursion. I can say that it will be quite exciting!” Delight flashed in her multi-colored eyes as I could almost visibly see the many plans she had circling within them.