To Ted’s equal consternation and relief, Elivala remained silent on the way back to Tolabar. Jeremy, on the other hand, spent the time quizzing Cara on the fight and reviewing every detail.
Ted listened in as best he could. Jeremy’s accent was a little odd, and Cara spoke much faster than usual. Or, Ted begrudgingly had to concede, this was her usual speaking pace, and she’d been going easy on him. Even so, most of it made sense, and a notification informed him his Wood Elvish language understanding had gone up from Experienced to Adept.
The more tactical knowledge he could pick up, the better. Jeremy clearly had a lot of experience and wasn’t shy about imparting it on Cara, with varying degrees of success.
“I should have taken that second Stealth Attack at the beginning,” Cara insisted. “A perfect opening, and I left it in the bush.”
Jeremy’s seemingly endless patience continued unabated. “Would it have made a difference?”
How did he remain so calm? They’d already gone around in circles several times, and he wasn’t wrong.
“Well… That’s not the point!”
“That’s precisely the point,” Jeremy said before switching to Common. “What do you think, Ted?”
“Err…” Ted paused, glancing between Cara’s expectant eye wiggles on the one side and Jeremy’s calm, correct certainty on the other. Being a silent eavesdropper again was more attractive by the second, but would only annoy them both. “Nothing we hit it with was effective. We were best off maximizing how long we held out for. Staying hidden was the right call.”
“Traitor,” Cara said, flashing a grin. She was joking.
Mostly joking, anyway. A new subject was in order, and Ted had questions. “How did you guys get there so fast? There’s no way you ran from Tolabar that quickly.”
Jeremy held up an empty vial, the inside coated with a blue residue. “Teleportation. Not very precise over those distances, especially not with a passenger, and very mana intensive.”
Teleportation! Ted’s teeth clenched together. That would have been useful during the fight. A shame they still wouldn’t teach him magic. “Well, thank you again, both of you. A moment later and I’d have been done for.”
“Whether you join or not, if you protect the Forest, you’re a ranger to me.” Jeremy looked to Elivala and received a nod. “We trust you. No more all-day escort.”
“Yes!” Cara hissed, a little too enthusiastically, even doing a little jig. “Sorry.”
Ted shrugged. “It’s fine, I get it.” They’d been stuck together for a week. Who wouldn’t want some space? On the bright side, they finally trusted he wasn’t out to kill them. He bowed his head to Jeremy. “Thank you. You won’t regret it.”
“I hope not,” Jeremy said, dipping his own head in return before turning to Elivala. “Meeting at sunrise?”
“Correct.” Elivala turned her sharp gaze on Cara. “All rangers to attend.”
“A meeting?” Cara blinked, a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, right. The meeting tomorrow! I know that.”
Jeremy’s restrained smile almost bordered on a smirk. “You didn’t forget. We’re calling it now. Tell the other Tolabar Lookouts.”
Her face and ears turned red. “Yes sir.”
“Ted, you’re with me.” Jeremy set off at a brisk pace, without even a glance over his shoulder.
Ted bristled at the instruction. He wasn’t a soldier to be bossed around, and hadn’t they just agreed he didn’t need a guard?
Still, the man had just saved his life. There was probably a good reason. “See you in a bit, I guess,” Ted said before scurrying off after Jeremy. “Where are we going?”
“Magic. Do you want to learn it?”
What kind of a question was that? “Who wouldn’t?”
Jeremy stopped and stared Ted in the eyes, no hint of a smile, or any mirth at all. This wasn’t just his usual gruffness. “Make a mistake, you might explode. Or worse.”
The remaining rush of survival fled and Ted’s heart shrank. Yeah, of course the one thing he’d be good at here was liable to blow him up. “I better not make any mistakes then.”
“Good idea. Bad plan.” Jeremy resumed walking, his pace even faster than before.
Ted jogged to keep up. “What’s wrong with that plan?”
“Everyone makes mistakes. The trick is to make sure your mistakes don’t kill you. Don’t push yourself unless you have to.”
“Did you have to today?”
Jeremy’s expression tightened and tension hung thick in the air. Eventually, he nodded. “It worked out, this time. One day, I won’t be so lucky. Even for you, there’ll be a cost.”
A knot twisted in Ted’s gut. “What do you mean by that?”
“You should tell her. Sooner rather than later.”
“Tell who, what?”
No response.
“Come on.” A tightness gripped Ted’s chest. Did he know? “What do you mean?”
Jeremy came to a stop, shook his head, and let out a heavy sigh. “Cara. That you’re a Hero.”
Muscles tensed up throughout Ted’s body, preparing for a battle he couldn’t win. He plastered on a smile and prayed that a facade of ignorance would hold back whatever horrible fate awaited him. “A Hero?”
The hardened gaze Jeremy returned dissolved what little hope there was. Even more so than usual, he wasn’t in the mood for games. Still, if he had wanted to kill Ted, he could have done so easily. That he hadn’t yet could only be a good sign.
Not yet.
Ted’s stomach churned, but wasn’t Jeremy owed the truth? He’d stuck his neck out for Ted and saved his life twice. Cara had faith in him. And now, he might even be about to trust Ted with magic.
Time to bite the bullet. “It says Hero on my status. I don’t really know what it means. How’d you know?”
“I had my suspicions. Your double leveling confirmed it.”
Ted’s brow furled. “Suspicions?”
“My father used to speak of a human who passed through about a thousand years ago. From Earth too, though, unlike you, Sigurd was a trained warrior.”
The name sounded Germanic, or Viking, maybe? Ted’s muscles uncoiled, stepping down from battle readiness. “That would make sense. A lot’s changed in the last thousand years on Earth.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows raised. “Such as?”
Where would one even start with that question? “Pretty much everything, really. But, whatever connection there is between our worlds, it’s been there a long time.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Time, for one thing. Seconds, hours, minutes, days—all our units of time are the same. That can’t be a coincidence.”
Despite thinking about it a lot, being from another world was a wedge topic. Ted had found it easier not to talk about it, especially given some of his conclusions. Finally speaking about it with Jeremy, the words gushed out, carried on a wave of pent-up frustration.
“Some creatures here are almost identical to those on Earth, even named the same—like the gorilla, and the snake. Elves don’t exist in our world, but do in our mythology.”
Ted stopped short of telling him everything. How would you tell someone their world might be a computer simulation? That they’re probably not flesh and blood, but a real, bona fide AI?
Besides, if this was a simulation, that raised a host of other questions. Questions that didn’t have answers yet and were best left unthought, let alone spoken out loud. Questions about what it meant to be stuck in a computer program, even one as advanced as this.
Questions like whether Ted was even alive anymore.
Jeremy listened, nodding thoughtfully, and took his time before speaking again. “I agree. Given the timing of your arrival, I believe you are connected in some way to the dungeon spawn coming to the surface.”
Ted studied the ranger, both what he was saying, and what he was not. Was he making an accusation?
No. If Jeremy had an accusation, he wouldn’t shy away from making it. He had to be merely following the evidence, the same as Ted.
Except Jeremy was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.
The burden the world had foisted on Ted loomed, as undeniably important as it was unwelcome. Ted turned away from the ranger’s piercing gaze, wishing yet again that it would just go away.
Quest received: Save your father, save the world.
It didn’t even have the decency to come with a quest reward. Maybe whoever or whatever had granted it thought saving the world was reward enough, but that only rubbed salt in the wound. Not only had this world stolen his father, but now it demanded he save it for free?
Jeremy continued, his sharp tone verging dangerously close to an accusation. “Sigurd had a quest. One that he had to complete before he could return to Earth.”
The mention of going home sent a jolt through Ted. Sure, he was totally fired and probably getting kicked out of university, but even going back to beans and rice sounded better than being ripped to pieces by another gorilla, possibly multiple times. And if anyone might be able to help with an impossible quest, it would be the several-hundred-year-old teleporting elf.
But there it was, the implicit question, the one asked without being asked. The question Ted wished he didn’t have to answer. “I… have one too.”
Silence came back. Jeremy didn’t need to ask—his stony, expectant look asked for him.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Save my father, save the world.” Anger spread through Ted like wildfire, burning and consuming everything in its path. “Rescue a man I barely know to save a world that isn’t mine.”
The wood elf tilted his head, his features softening ever so slightly. “You risked your life today to rescue a woman you barely know and save a village that isn’t yours.”
So what? “Saving myself in the process.”
Jeremy’s stare bore into him, ripping apart the obvious lie. “That’s not why. You could have run.”
“You barely know me. Besides, I come back from the dead, don’t I?”
An unnatural stillness came over the ranger. His eyes darkened and what little smile he had faded away. “There’s a cost. That’s what my father said on the matter.”
Ted’s heart sank. He’d known it was too good to be true. “What sort of cost?”
“I don’t know. Whenever they spoke of it, he would forget what Sigurd told him about dying, as if the information itself was enchanted. All he could recall was there was a cost, and not a small one.”
Ominous, but it had to be better than death, surely?
A chill ran down Ted’s spine. The myth of Prometheus, condemned to an eternity of his liver being eaten by an eagle, suddenly sounded far too plausible. “I’ll try not to die, then.”
“Everyone dies, Ted. All you can do is be prepared and delay it.”
Ted nodded. Truer words were never spoken. “You said you were going to teach me magic?”
“If you’re ready to learn.”
Ready? Excitement tingled through Ted. He was more than ready. “Let’s do it!”
***
“Good,” Jeremy said, his brusque tone killing any errant thoughts that it was a compliment. “What are the main types of components? Why do we use them?”
Over an hour, and not a single piece of magic cast. Ted gritted his teeth and pondered what could possibly make his answer more acceptable than the previous one. Nothing came to mind. “Motion, words, thoughts, conduits, and reagents. They’re what structure the spell and stop it exploding.”
Jeremy paused a little too long before grunting and saying, “Close enough.”
Frustration boiled in Ted’s chest. It didn’t seem like Jeremy’s style, but the old man had to be jerking him around. “That’s the exact same answer I gave half an hour ago!”
The ranger shook his head, the beginnings of a smirk peeking through an otherwise carefully controlled poker face. “No, it’s not.”
Ted held his hands down by his side, the burning need to clench them becoming harder and harder to fight. “I remember what I said. Same answer, word for word.”
Silence. Jeremy merely stared back, waiting for Ted to do… whatever the hell he was looking for.
It didn’t make any sense. This wasn’t like him Jeremy at all.
Unless this was about more than reciting knowledge.
Ted’s eyes widened as realization flooded through him. “It’s a test, isn’t it? You know damned well it’s the same answer!”
Jeremy smiled and bowed. “Correct. Spellcasting requires two key attributes not on your character sheet—the patience to get it right, and the certainty to drive it home when you do.”
The drum of anger banging in Ted’s chest begrudgingly slowed. “I… can see the logic,” he said, wishing that he couldn’t.
Ted glanced up at the dying sunlight. Time was running out, and he wasn’t sure he could handle yet another day of his mana taunting him with its presence. “Will you teach me some magic now?”
Jeremy nodded. “We start small. A fire-starting spell—the only kind of fire spell to be used in the Forest. If I ever catch you using something larger, I will personally bury you alive.”
“Duly noted. Aren’t fires good for forests, though? Help clean out the undergrowth?”
Jeremy looked at him like he was insane. “The Forest looks after itself. It does not need us—or you—to ‘help’ it with fire. Now, pay attention.”
Electricity tingling in his chest, Ted watched intently. This close to actual magic, its every detail a window into the arcane, he didn’t plan to miss a thing.
Jeremy’s fingers moved through a slow, controlled waltz before him. His fingertips left ethereal trails of red behind, forming a complex, three-dimensional pattern in the air. The speed he went, the shape of it, which joints bent when—all of it could be important, and Ted studied every detail.
As the glow reached its surprisingly dim peak, Jeremy hissed, “Enkir,” the Wood Elvish word for fire.
A spark burst from the midpoint of his hands and fell into the already charred remains of a campfire. The fire flickered briefly before dying, devoid of fuel.
Simple as it was, it was magic. Real magic—or as real as anything was here—close enough to taste and just begging for Ted to cast it. Even so, a niggling suspicion refused to go away, chipping away at the excitement. “That’s not the same spell you’d use to light a fire.”
“Why?”
“It’s a simple, low-power spell, yet you used mirrored motion and a spell word to cast it. It’s a training spell.”
“Correct. One more time?”
“Yeah, one sec.” Determined to learn every detail he could, Ted dropped both his Perception perk points into Discern Magic and activated the ability. “Let’s do this.”
The world changed even as it stayed exactly the same. Everything suddenly had a depth that it hadn’t had before, like going from black and white to color. It was a lot like putting on 3d glasses for the first time, but without the fakeness that always ruined it.
The world spun, more and more information flooding in, Jeremy’s bow positively glowing white. Except it wasn’t a glow, no, this was seeing in another way altogether, one orthogonal to light or depth.
Ted’s stomach churned and he stumbled, only just catching himself on Jeremy’s shoulder.
His overworked eyes begged him to stop. He blinked several times, refusing to give in to their demands. If VR took some getting used to, it stood to reason that a whole new kind of vision would as well. The ability to see and analyze magic would be worth it.
Jeremy patted him on the back. “It gets easier.”
Embarrassing as it was, Ted was glad to know that he wasn’t the only one who struggled at first.
After a few disorienting minutes, the world settled. He breathed deeply and swallowed. Was that it?
A tentative look around resulted in dizziness, but thankfully nothing more. Trusting once more in his own sense of balance, he pulled himself upright. Magic had already waited long enough. “I’m ready.”
Jeremy nodded and proceeded with the spell again. Ted watched, entranced by the fiery threads pulling and tugging at ethereal blue mana, weaving it into a beautiful and elegant structure of its own, completely invisible to ordinary sight.
“Enkir.” With a hissed word and an anticlimactic spark, the spell completed. The campfire ignited, only to fizzle out again almost immediately. “Your turn now,” Jeremy said, stepping several paces back.
Adrenaline surged through Ted as he stepped forward, its tingling warmth fighting against the chill of the encroaching night. All that time waiting, and his chance was finally here.
He took a deep breath and drew on his mana for the first time. It pulled back, refusing to obey so easily. Was that how it was? Fine—if it didn’t want to play ball, he would make it obey by force of will.
Energy surged through Ted, responding to his orders with a swell of power. The mana was his, and it would do as he commanded.
“Dial it back down,” Jeremy growled, taking several more steps back. “Don’t force it.”
Whatever the cost of dying was, for once finding out later was better than sooner. Ted released his grip on the mana and it fled back to the well inside him.
He followed it back to its source and reached out to it with his mind once again. The contact carried with it a sense of purpose, of meaning. The mana wasn’t alive, but it wasn’t inanimate, either. It didn’t have desires as such, but it craved both to be cast and to be free. A dangerous combination.
With the promise of becoming part of a spell, Ted coaxed out a sliver of magic, just enough for the simple training spell. Pushing aside the urge to embellish, he imitated Jeremy’s motions exactly, weaving the spell’s structure in the air.
Threads of magic responded to Ted’s thoughts, guiding the mana into place even as it constantly probed for opportunities to break free.
Carefully controlled motion and thought replicating Jeremy’s spell brought it all together, awaiting only the spell word to complete it.
“Enkir.”
A flash of heat seared at Ted’s fingertips. He swore and shook his hand, trying to cool the self-inflicted burn.
1 fire damage dealt!
1 fire damage received!
The slightest defect in his casting, and the mana had broken free in an uncontrolled burst. Ted scowled, mentally berating himself for thinking it would be half as easy as Jeremy made it look.
If that had been a more powerful spell…
Jeremy half grunted, half chuckled. “You wanted to be a caster. This is it. No one succeeds first try.”
“Does it always hurt that much?” Ted asked, instantly thinking better of it. “No, don’t answer that. I know what you’re going to say.”
“Most learners start with bookwork for weeks. This way’s faster.”
His fingertips still crying out in pain, Ted glared at the ranger. “There are books you can learn this from?”
“Yes. Complex spells can go into excruciating detail. Books or scrolls are almost obligatory to learn them. However, no book can teach how it feels.”
“It felt… almost alive.” Even with the pain, Ted couldn’t help but smile. Even if he hadn’t gotten it first time, every failure put him one step closer to casting magic successfully. “Again?”
“Again.”
Ted repeated the casting over and over, learning from each failure. Jeremy watched patiently, providing his gruff guidance and the occasional healing spell.
The shadows grew longer still as they worked, but giving up wasn’t an option, not when he was this close.
When the sun finally disappeared behind the trees, Jeremy summoned a glowing orb with nothing more than a few rapid hand gestures. The orb hovered in the air, illuminating the forest with its pale, silvery light.
“I can do this,” Ted said, more for his own benefit than Jeremy’s. What if he couldn’t? What if he really was useless here?
“You have the ability,” Jeremy said, speaking from a safe distance. “The knowledge of how is inside you. Trust it.”
Ted closed his eyes and clenched his fist. He came from a world without magic. How the hell would the knowledge of how to cast it be inside him?
Yet there it was, nibbling at his insides, promising to help, if only Ted would let it in. Knowledge that wasn’t his own, that had no right to be there.
Jeremy continued, his firm tone weirdly calming amid the impossibility. “Relax. Let the skill guide you.”
Success was right there, within Ted’s grasp, he was sure of it. He’d mastered the physical actions, the intonation of the spell word, the delicate balance between controlling the mana and letting it do its thing.
Was that all he had to do now? Give up control to that innate knowledge inside him?
Knowledge he’d never learned.
No amount of inward probing revealed its source. It simply was, and without it, he sensed magic would stay forever outside his reach. Whether he liked it or not, the skill—whatever that really meant—was already there. Why not make use of it?
Breathing out slowly, he let go of some of that tension that never really went away and cast the spell again. Letting go of the rigid plan, he followed his instincts and the spell took shape before him, easier than ever.
Fiery threads pulled the mana into place and he hissed, “Enkir.”
A spark jumped out of his hands, igniting the campfire for one triumphant moment.
Spell learned: Enkir’girk-polak!
Fire magic skill increased 0 → 1!
Ted pumped his fist into the air. The spell literally had training in the name, but that didn’t matter. Simple or not, he’d cast magic. Magic! The surge of adrenaline carried him to a high all the sweeter for how long it had taken. “Got it!”
“Good work,” Jeremy said, clapping Ted on the back.
“Careful, that almost sounded like you meant it.”
A smirk snuck across the old wood elf’s face. “Careful, you almost sound like Cara.”
“And?” As frustrating as she could be at times, Cara got more stick in the village than she deserved.
“One Cara’s enough.” Jeremy paused, and his lips pressed together. “Not everyone has the right temperament to be a caster.”
“How long did it take her to cast her first spell?”
“She learned, that’s what matters. Without Discern Magic, I might add. Come, humans need more rest than elves, and we have one last subject to discuss.”
Here it comes. “I told Cara I’d think about joining.”
“Did she tell you the benefits?”
Benefits? No one had mentioned benefits, and Jeremy probably didn’t mean a dental plan. Ted shook his head.
“Oh, Cara.” Jeremy sighed. “Training is one. You put your life on the line here. I’ll train you as I can, but Rangers get priority. There are other trainers, though few that train Lookouts in magic, and none of them would train an outsider.”
The training was useful, but he’d already earned that, at least from Jeremy. Priority training wasn’t worth getting tied down, especially as the plan was to move on sooner rather than later. “Go on.”
“Status, and a calling. Bluntly, you’re a curiosity to most. They’ll forget your deeds today soon enough. You need duties, and I don’t see you picking herbs.”
He had a point, but again, relevant only as long as Ted stayed. “Anything else?”
“Ranger-specific perks. You’ve already seen Horn of the Rangers. Carry out Ranger business, you’ll get perk points to buff yourself in the Forest.”
Specific Ranger perks sounded interesting, except for the part where they’d only work in the Forest. “Sounds useful.”
Jeremy’s lips curled at the answer, no doubt questioning his sincerity. “Membership won’t prohibit you joining other organizations, but you can’t use multiple organization’s perk trees at once.”
“Good to know,” Ted said, trying not to sound too interested.
After a long pause, Jeremy continued again. “Finally, new recruits get geared up properly. Master crafted gear made by specialists with centuries of experience.”
Ted drew in a sharp breath. Proper gear might easily save his life—and he could take it with him. “And what would I have to do, exactly?”
“As a Lookout? If you see anything dangerous, kill it if you can, report it if you can’t. Prowlers like me have more obligations, but that’s a long way off.”
It sounded too good to be true. It probably was, but if the world was going to screw him, Ted would rather have top-notch weapons and armor. “Where do I sign up?”
“Do you solemnly swear to be vigilant for all threats to the Great Forest and its denizens?”
Ted paused. Did he really want to do this? Sure, the sales pitch was good, but it meant more people to protect. Although, technically, since the Great Forest was part of the world he was already meant to save, it wasn’t really more people, was it?
And, as a member of the Rangers, he wouldn’t be alone protecting them. He’d be a small, almost insignificant part of a bigger whole—and a well-equipped part, at that. From what Jeremy had said, leaving them wouldn’t be breaking his obligations, especially not if he did it to save the damned world.
Was that the point? Was this Jeremy’s low-key way of helping his quest?
“I do.”
“Do you solemnly swear not to attack other Rangers of the Great Forest, steal from them, or otherwise harm them or those we protect?”
“I do.”
Jeremy bowed and pronounced, “Welcome to the Rangers, Ted.”
Faction joined: Rangers of the Great Forest!
Ability learned: Horn of the Rangers!
Ranger Ted it was. On the plus side, Cara’s oath would stop her killing him when he finally told the truth.
Hopefully, anyway.