Reminiscing about the good times made the six-hour walk to Thorsten seem like six seconds.

Thorsten's stone walls punctuated the hill overlooking the Plains of Jeralt. Covered parapets were placed sparingly, allowing soldiers and guards to shade themselves from the sun, lest they overheat in their armor. The walls were fancy enough to have crenelations and arrow slits. Anyone from Jeralt would marvel at the walls and the safety they provided. It could hold off hordes of ferocious horned rabbits without batting an eye.

Reiss snorted.

Until the rabbits jump over the wall.

It was hilarious because it had actually happened on his 248th iteration when Reiss said the wrong words to an adolescent Druid. She took offense and decided it would be hilarious to send her fuzzy little companions rocketing over the walls of the city.

Thorsten could probably hold off the average monster stampede or ragtag army, but it was never prepared for the attack of tens of thousands of tiny white furry creatures whom they couldn't kill because Thorsten's children ran among them with glee. The lone guard that fired into the furry crowd was summarily jumped by an angry gaggle of grossly upset girls.

And that was how the city of Thorsten fell.

Conquered by bunnies.

The 1st Iteration was right to fear them.

While the walls were impressive, Reiss had seen wonders that couldn't compare. Thorsten might as well have no walls.

Walking up to the gate, he fell in line behind the other visitors to the city. [Farmers], small-time [Merchants], and a pair of fledgling [Adventurers]. As the line moved up, he realized he was attracting glances and pointed fingers. The line of people whispered to themselves.

Reiss' eyebrows knitted a knot. He never got such a reaction in all his previous visits. Was it the hair? It was probably the hair.

As the line moved up, Reiss got more and more paranoid. Did the Winter Sprites pin a sign on his back that said: "Insert coin below". He hadn't checked his reflection since rewinding time. Did his scars from the previous iteration carry over somehow? No, scarring wasn't enough to attract such attention. It couldn't be the bouquet he was holding.

Finally, it was his turn. He walked up to the guards holding only a bundle of flowers wrapped ornately in colored paper. The taller of the two guards nudged the other one. The shorter one spoke with uncertainty.

"Reason for visiting?"

There was no toll; they wouldn't ask for any coin. He just had to state his business to move on.

"Delivery of goods."

The shorter guard examined him, noting the shabby clothes, absence of a coin purse, or anything else of note.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"The flowers?"

"I was hired to gather flowers for an upcoming wedding."

"Oh, the Tillmore's wedding. Right, you can go on through then."

Reiss was about to do just that but couldn't ignore the gazes from the crowd behind him, the guards leaning over the wall, or the way the two kept eyeing him like a piece of meat.

"Pardon, but is there something wrong?"

The shorter one stammered.

"What? Uh. No. There isn't. You can go right on in."

"I meant with my appearance. Do I have something on my face?"

The shorter guard's mouth tried to form words, but he just ogled Reiss. It made him a bit uncomfortable.

"No. There's nothing on your face. It's just. I mean, you... you're... how do I say it?"

"I don't understand. What?"

"Honestly? I figured someone like you would get stares everywhere she went."

Hold up. What did he say?

"You're... sparkling."

Oh, the stardust from the comet.

"I-, I mean. It's just that. You see-"

As the short guard continued to stammer, the taller one blurted out.

"You're gorgeous."

Reiss was taken aback by the intensity in the voice. The guard was actually a woman whose eyes were sparkling just as vibrantly as the stardust glued to Reiss. There were nods and murmurs of agreement from the line behind him. He heard a faint shout from the top of the wall.

"Hey, pretty lady! Are you single?"

The guard was getting elbows from his buddies and nearly fell off the wall.

No... They wouldn't dare.

Oh, but they did.

The taller female guard abandoned most pretext and stepped forward into Reiss' personal space, whispering conspiratorially.

"You have to tell me how you did your hair. Do you use special soap? Would you be willing to share? If I could do something like that, men would be all over me."

"I am a man."

Reiss hissed.

The female guard rolled her eyes.

"Obviously. Only those idiots would think you're not. But you're still gorgeous."

She eyed Reiss like a piece of meat.

"Say... if you are single-"

"I apologize, but I really must be going."

The guard looked dejected as Reiss slipped past her and into the city. He heard a call from behind.

"Is that a no to the soap?"

=

The crowded streets of Thorsten practically parted for him as he moseyed his way on down. He was currently chewing on his pinky finger—a bad habit picked up after the battle with a pair of Abyssal Horrors.

Am I...

The thought frightened Reiss more than those horrendous amalgamations of flesh and serrated teeth. If it was true, he just lost a bet spanning over three hundred iterations.

Am I a trap?

No. It couldn't be true. It had never been true. It was the white hair and stardust. It would make anyone look like a trap.

I most definitely do not have a feminine face.

Incessant giggling flickered in his memory. It made him smile, but he couldn't remember whose laughter it was.

Reiss smushed his hands against his face, changing how some of his admirers were gawking. He counted off a checklist.

"Hmm. No scars. Both eyes are there."

Both ear lobes stretched down comically as he pulled.

Reiss stopped suddenly at a pottery stall where a startled merchant allowed him to examine his reflection in the glazes.

"Is that a bit of stardust twinkling between my teeth?

Oh no.

Reiss collapsed to his knees in the middle of the market, clutching his head. The older merchant who sold pottery looked alarmed and moved to help Reiss back up.

"Are you alright, miss?

"No. It can't be."

His plea was muted but oddly high-pitched.

I really am a trap.

Reiss wanted to cry. Was this all it took? Reversing all the damage he accumulated throughout his lives by going back in time, magically changing his hair, destroying a comet summoned by immortal Sprites, and dancing in the stardust?

"How could this happen."

"Miss, do you need me to call for a [Healer]? Maybe it is the heat. Wait here, just a moment; let me fetch something."

The old [Potter]'s words were like the last nails in Reiss's coffin as he slumped in the street with his butt in the air.

A single, sparkling tear rolled down his cheek, landing on the ground and evaporating into colorful lights.