If this was a magical world, the first thing Orion had to do was obvious.
He felt his Portal ability waiting to be used—like an itch that just had to be scratched. He focused on a point down the road and imagined himself teleporting there. The next thing he knew, he was down the street, appearing in a swirl of purple and black at the point he’d been focusing on.
A sense of childlike glee rushed through him as he realized what he’d just done. This really was a world of magic—magic that he could use. It didn’t feel disorienting or uncomfortable like he had assumed it would. Using his ability, his magic ability, felt as natural as taking a step. Anticipation bubbled up in his throat as his mind began crafting stories of heroic acts and endless adventures. He continued on his way.
While he was in a rush to reach his destination, he couldn't help but take in the breathtaking street he traversed. The surrounding buildings looked straight out of a fantasy RPG, which he supposed they kind of were. Crafted of cobblestone and mortar, with wooden detailing that was lacquered a rich brown, he couldn’t help but stare.
He froze as he caught his reflection in a pane of glass. He had no recollection of what he looked like, of course, given the removal of his memories, yet his reflection nonetheless seemed familiar.
He looked eighteen, which he inexplicably knew he was. Of medium height and skinny build, his hair was long, messy, and black. Dull blue-green eyes stared back at him. By his estimation, his most defining feature was that he was completely average. He bore neither hideous features nor the looks that society valued. His chin was a little too flat, his eyes a touch too thin, and his cheeks held more fat than you would see on the typical vision of male beauty.
His eyes were drawn down to his legs. He remembered the pain from his path through the orbs, and the echoes of that pain radiated through him. Now, they appeared healthy and whole. Looking at them stirred an odd sensation within him. It felt like something was fundamentally flawed about the sight of functioning legs to stand on, as if the previous pain was the correct state of being, and this healthy iteration of his body was a facade.
He snorted, scoffing at himself.
What am I doing? Who cares what my body looks or feels like? This is a world of magic!
He turned his introspection outward at the buildings again, and the longer he looked, the more surreal the scene became. They weren’t like the houses seen in video games. The details were just too… perfect. Wooden landings were scuffed from the constant passage of feet, door handles were worn from their incessant turning, and walls were damaged from sun exposure on their eastern faces, while the western walls on the other side of the street weren’t. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but something about the entire scene left him feeling uneasy.
“How were these made only five days ago...?” he mused out loud.
“Too perfect, isn’t it?” a voice whispered into his ear.
Startled, he jumped forward and turned. A small boy in a brown cloak with the hood drawn up stood before him. No, not a small boy. He was childlike in stature, but the face of a teenager, perhaps even a young adult, peeked out from the hood.
“What the fuck, man?” Orion scowled at the stranger. “Was that really necessary?”
“Oh, absolutely!” The boy laughed and displayed a wide smile. “I could never forgive myself if I saw an opportunity like that and let it slip me by.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind that, though. Let’s form a party. What should we call it? So many possibilities. You don’t have a party yet, right?”
“You’ve hardly made a good first impression…” Orion turned and strode towards the south once more. “Why should I join your party?”
The stranger kept pace. “Because I also noticed.”
Orion stopped and faced the boy once more. “Noticed what?”
“The details of the world around us. Everything is too perfect. The way the roof tiles are weathered according to the passage of the sun. The way a door handle is marked from constant use, whereas the door handles in most games look like they came out of the door handle… factory? Were there door handle factories in medieval times? How did they make door handles back in the day before mass production? I guess the local blacksmith, right? Man, we really lost our way as a species with Earth’s industrialization. Did you know—”
“Okay, you also noticed.” Orion cut the stranger off before he could blather any further. “So? From what I saw when our benevolent God was making his speech, every adventurer present had eyes.”
“That may be so, my scruffy-haired, easily startled friend.” The stranger wiggled his finger at Orion. “However, having eyes doesn’t mean that you see. I’ve spent the majority of the last five days in this wondrous town of ours socializing and making friends, as it were. Not one other person has noticed. Not one! Even when I point it out, no one sees it.” He unleashed a dramatic sigh. “It’s hard to find good help, but worry not! For you have found another adventurer as reliable as yourself!” He put his hand on Orion’s shoulder, giving him the smile of a salesman finishing his pitch. “The only question is, what do we call the party? You can be the party leader, so you get the final say. Any ideas?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“What’s your name?” Orion asked as he turned and walked south once more.
The stranger walked with him.
“Ahh, a man can have many names. Some would call me lover, others would call me friend, and some, I daresay, would call me enemy. Such is the way of—”
Orion used his will to inspect the name of his new acquaintance.
“Honeypot…? Your name is… Honeypot?”
“Hey! First of all, that’s rude!” Orion felt the light pressure that signified Honeypot doing the same back to him. “Second, what’s wrong with Honeypot? My mother would say it’s a charming name, assuming I have one, of course.” He frowned to himself. “A mother, that is, not a name. I definitely have a name.”
“It’s just that I would have taken you for more of a ‘Shadowkiller69’ or ‘xxbackstabxx’ kind of guy.”
“Ahhhh, yes.” Honeypot puffed his chest out and adopted a look of forlorn dismay. “I could see why you’d say that. My visage could strike fear into the heart of a stone, and desire into the loins of the purest maiden. As such, a daring, dangerous name like ‘Shadowkiller’ would seem more fitting. There is beauty in the contrast, however, wouldn’t you say? My name perfectly juxtaposes my nature. Like the thorns on a rosebush, or the first sip of water after a day in the sun, or—”
“Woah…” Orion cut Honeypot off as they emerged into a bustling square.
He knew straight away that they’d reached his destination.
Two giant wooden gates set in a wall of the same height stood across the square from them. Along the wall, pillars of stone reached toward the sky, clearly acting as support for the wooden structure. The doors stood wide open, a grassy plain and the forest beyond visible from between the gates.
The sheer number of adventurers before them were staggering. There were groups of them scattered all over, some chatting and laughing, some preparing equipment and conversing in a serious manner, others making their way back into the town looking bloody and beaten. With how well equipped everyone was, Orion couldn’t help but feel naked in his burlap outfit.
In only five days, I’ve fallen so far behind… I have to find a party as soon as possible.
He felt someone staring from the corner of his eye. He turned, making eye contact with a man further in the square. The man looked down at Orion’s state, glancing at the obvious starting gear. Orion thought the adventurer might sneer or laugh, but instead, he shot him a smile before making his way towards him. The man was followed by three other people.
“Hey there, buddy! Are you looking for a party?” The leader swept long blond hair out of his face.
Orion got a closer look at him. Without even thinking about it, he flexed his will towards the man, whose name he saw a moment later was ‘Felsteg’.
Orion abruptly panicked as he realized he’d inspected the man’s name without even thinking of it—an act that in this world was seen as an insult.
“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“No harm, no foul!” Felsteg laughed and inspected him back. “Orion, is it? We all make mistakes sometimes, so don’t sweat it. I’m Felsteg, and my companions here are Brick, Kauri, and Arika.”
Felsteg was wearing dark leather armor with an expensive look about it. He had a short-sword in a belt on his side. Numerous knives were sheathed in holders up his legs and arms. He looked like a damage-oriented melee class based on his gear. Orion was impressed that the man had gained such strong looking equipment in such a short amount of time.
Felsteg’s companions were just as well equipped. Two of his followers were immediately behind him. They stepped forward.
“I’m Brick, this here is Kauri.” Brick patted a thick belly and pointed to Kauri, who was his slightly taller and much skinnier companion.
Orion assumed Brick was a tank based on his plate armor, shield, and heavy hammer. Beside him, Kauri appeared to be a caster—a healer, if the holy-looking staff he wielded was a reliable indication.
The last member of their party—the one Felsteg had called Arika—was a woman in a blood-red robe. She had a darker complexion compared to the rest of the party, her tanned skin making her stand out in the crowd. She seemed less enthused than the three males of the party, and glanced at him for only a moment before looking away. There was a wooden staff in her hands with a small red prism set in the tip.
A ranged caster, then.
Realizing that he was lost in thought for far too long, he rushed to speak.
“I’m looking for a party, yes. I only just spawned though, and I’m still in my starting gear, as you can see.” He gestured at his burlap getup. “If that isn’t an issue, I’d love to join you, but you may not have room for the both of...” He trailed off as he turned to his side and noticed Honeypot was no longer standing there. He looked all around, then further out into the square, but Honeypot was nowhere to be seen. “Did you happen to see a short guy in a brown cloak standing beside me when you approached? About my shoulder height, youthful, with a suspicious amount of glee on his face?”
“Uh, no. Definitely not.” Felsteg let out an easy laugh and smiled at Orion. “Forget that, though. I didn’t see anyone with you, and there are five of us here now. It almost seems like it was meant to be.” Felsteg looked at the wooden staff in Orion’s hand. “You’re some kind of Mage, right? We could use another ranged, and we aren’t worried about getting you caught up on gear and levels, are we guys?”
The two men shook their heads and smiled enthusiastically, whereas Arika just crossed her arms and looked away.
“See, kid? Nothing to worry about. We were just heading out to a good spawn we’ve been leveling at with just the four of us. Lucky I spotted you! Let’s get a move on and raise you some levels!”
A prompt appeared in Orion’s field of view, asking him if he wanted to join Felsteg’s party. He accepted it without hesitation. As soon as he joined, the party member’s names and health bars appeared in the top left of his field of view, which was both fascinating and a little disorienting. At the top of the list was Felsteg’s name, a small symbol of a crown beside it. Above Felsteg, the name ‘Hand of God’ stood in bold letters. Orion looked around, the interface moving with the movement of his eyes.
“What does ‘Hand of God’ mean?” He waved his hand where the health bars were visible in his peripheral vision.
“Wow, you really are a newbie.” Brick clapped him on the shoulder, a bit too hard by Orion’s reckoning. “That’s the name of our party.”
“You’ll get used to the party interface. It’s only disorienting at first.” Felsteg smiled at Orion’s rapid arm-waving.
Honeypot mentioned something about parties and choosing a name, didn’t he? They chose an, uh, interesting party name.
He was confused at the abrasive Honeypot’s departure, but wasn’t entirely surprised. If he was honest with himself, he was relieved that the suspicious character had disappeared—the blond-haired deviant seemed entirely too chaotic. Orion wasn’t one to question a blessing; given his delayed start, he was fortunate to find such a friendly and capable party so quickly, despite their cringe-worthy choice of party-name.
Realizing that they had all turned and started making their way towards the gate while he was lost in thought, Orion rushed to catch up to his now-departing teammates.