I can hear water.

I opened my eyes and found myself under the soft warmth of a noon sun with a gentle grassy field underneath me. I could see the trees on a small island across the river were beginning to shed their amber-colored leaves. I would have cherished the autumn ambiance if I was not in so much pain.

Well, she was true to her word, she definitely didn’t heal me.

“Help! Hel—” came shouts accompanied by coughing and frantic splashing.

I turned over, my broken ribs protesting violently. The pain was scorching. Then I saw it, a child struggling to stay above the rushing waters of the river. Mustering all the energy I had left, I got up and rushed toward the water.

My broken body was met with the stings of crisp spring water. I swam towards the struggling kid, my body smashing into every rock along the way. I grabbed him but one look at my face sent the child into a full-on panic. My act of kindness was unexpectedly met with a high-pitched screech that was sure to leave me deaf.

“It’s a fish monster. He’s got me, Heema,” the child said while landing punches to my good ear.

I struggled to tow the brat as he landed tiny haymakers to my face and the occasional kick to my stomach, but I got the child to the shore. The group of children rushed towards us.

“Here, take him,” I said handing the child to his friends.

“Kill it,” screamed one of the kids as he skipped a stone on the water directly into my nose.

“That’s not a fish monster, stupid, it’s a person,” said a young girl.

“Look at its face, that’s definitely a puff fish monster, highly poisonous,” said the oldest looking boy matter-of-factly as he poked my face with a thin stick with a pointy end

The only thing dangerous around here is you lot.

“There’s no such thing,” said the little girl, “I am getting uncle Jom, so don’t kill it.”

They continued to poke me with a stick while loudly discussing what manner of monster I was, and the most effective means to kill me.

“We should kill it with fire,” one of the kids suggested as I passed out from the pain.

****

Even the children of the land recognize you as a monster, just lean into it, I heard the goddess say in my mind.

Eat a bag of dicks and leave me alone, I thought in response.

YOU CAN’T TELL A GODDESS TO EAT A BACK OF DICKS! Her voice boomed in my semiconscious mind

I—I can and…I just did. I was just able to process the thought as I sunk back into unconsciousness.

****

I woke up under a thatch roof, a few rays of sunlight sneaking through small gaps in the clay wall.

I tried to sit up, but a tender hand found my shoulder.

“Oh goodness, you shouldn’t be getting up in your condition, you need to rest and recover,” said a gentle voice. The soothing voice belonged to a beautiful woman with long black hair.

I caught myself staring deeply into her honey-colored eyes. I broke eye contact before she became uncomfortable.

“This is miraculous, your wounds are all but healed. How?” she pondered aloud as her soft hands examined my face and my ribs.

I could feel myself blushing.

“I need to get some air,” I said standing up quickly, and nearly bumping the low roof rafters.

Did I get taller?

“My name is Sophia,” she said as she grabbed my hand and draped it over her shoulder, acting like my crutch as I made my way to the door.

“I am Rend and thank you,” I said ducking under the doorway.

The light was almost blinding. As my eyes adjusted, I looked down to see that I was towering over Sophia by a good six inches.

Oh shit, I did get taller.

I took in the scene before me. I was standing in the middle of a cozy-looking village nestled on top of a large hill with the river flowing several hundred meters away. The village overlooked several farms at the base of the hill. I could see kids playing by the farms as several adults worked to haul buckets of water from the river to water their crops. I watches the wheat swaying in the wind as I inhaled the refreshing spring air.

My hand moved up to my ribs. My body felt like it had mostly healed.

“Sophia, how many weeks was I unconscious for?” I asked

“Weeks? It’s only been two days since we dragged you up from the river,” she said.

“Just two days?” I asked in bewilderment,

“Yup, the goddess must really favor you to mend your wounds so quickly,” Sophia said with a warm smile.

Yea, I am sure that psychopath really favors me, so much that she would toss me broken and bloody into a new world while a kid—

“That kid? Is he ok?” I asked suddenly, the thought of the drowning boy suddenly jolting my mind back to the present.

“Oh yes, thanks to you Feno is just fine. Actually, he is my little brother. And I am so sorry that he thought you were a fish monster,” she added with a slight chuckle.

“To be fair, I am sure I looked every bit like a fish monster,” I said with a small laugh as the absurdity of the situation hit me.

“The kids in this village have overactive imaginations,” she said as we watched a farmer chasing several kids out of his vegetable garden.

“Speaking of Feno, the chief wanted to personally thank you. Do you think you have the energy to meet the chief?” Sophia asked.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“Sure, lead the way,” I said as I followed her lead.

****

As we walked through the village, I was met with handshakes, cheerful greetings, and warm smiles. The hospitality of the villagers felt like a kind hug I had never known but always yearned for, I felt like I had lived in this foreign place all my life. We made our way down the hill past the farms.

“There he is,” Sophia said pointing towards a short man under a tarp in an open field.

As I walked closer, I saw the chief was a burly man with tan skin.

Is he wearing an apron?

“The chief likes to cook a big feast once a month so the whole community can come together and talk about any concerns or problems,” Sophia said almost reading my mind.

“Oh ho, finally awake I see,” the chief said waving us over.

Does he have an English accent?

“Rend, this is Hapi Durland, chief of Peddler's Village,” Sophia said introducing us.

Peddler's Village, that's a pretty cute name.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said holding out a hand.

Chief Durland grabbed my outstretched hand and pulled me into a hug.

“Bless ya boy. Ye saved one of’ our kids. Yer more dun welcome, ‘ere,” the chief said through our long embrace.

“Alrigh’, put on that ‘ere smock and help me roast this meat, and we can get to know each other,” he said tossing me an apron.

****

While the meat and veggies were grilled, Chief Durland and I talked. Surprisingly, to my astonishment, the chief did not pry into who I was or ask where I was from. I was grateful.

Soon after sunset, a trail of lanterns began to slowly appear as the villagers made their way down the hill towards the feast. Again, I was welcomed with handshakes, pats on the back, and the occasional hug (mostly from sweet grandmothers and grandpas).

Chief Durland lit a giant fire in a large stone pit, and with that, the party began. People were eating, laughing, and talking (no doubt sharing stories about their day). A few villagers began to play some instruments, and a cask of apple wine was tapped to liven the party even more.

The food and wine were delicious. To my eyes, the food was not much different than what I had encountered in my previous life. I recognized the meat was obviously some sort of fish sourced from the river. There was some sort of chicken-like meat and large loaves of bread. The vegetables consisted of grilled onion, capsicum, and corn. The dessert was a tart made of apples and pears. However, there was a large variety of different fruits and vegetables that were clearly native to this world, all of which I intended on trying out. After two days of sleeping, I was famished, and my plate was almost as full as my mouth.

I was stuffing my face sitting next to the chief (on his insistence) when he abruptly got up. The music and chattering quieted down and all eyes were on us. I swallowed quickly and gave as polite a smile as I could.

“Please, ‘elp yaself and eat ‘til you’re full, but for anyone who wants to speak on any issues, ya have the floor and our ears,” the chief said returning to his seat.

An elderly man got, his eyes scanning the crowd.

“Ah, those kids right there chief,” the old man said pointing, “they keep running through my wheat fields and through Elder Surya’s sunflower fields.”

“Lies old man. We never—” the boy’s mother gave a swift but light smack to the back of the boy’s head and stood up.

“We do not address our elders in such a crude and insulting manner, Heema,” she said looking at her son, “apologize to Elder Yunna this very instance.”

“Sorry, Elder Yunna,” Heema said with his head down.

“For?” Heema’s mother asked.

“For calling you an old man and for using your fields as our epic knights versus zombie battleground,” Heema answered.

The bashful answer prompted a wave of laughter from the crowd, even from Elder Yunna who simply took his seat seemingly dropping the issue.

“Can we discuss the bridge?” A familiar voice called out.

Sophia stood up.

“As you all know, two days ago, my little brother Feno and several of the children were crossing the bridge to get to Acho Island to pick wild berries. A part of the bridge crumbled and Feno slipped into the river. It was a miracle that the other children did not fall in, and it was an even bigger miracle that Rend was there to save my brother” she said pointing directly to me. “Rend sustained many injuries getting my brother to the shore, and for that I am grateful, but all this could have been avoided if that bridge was maintained properly by the warden and his experts,” she said.

I could see a wall of tears forming in her eyes.

Who the hell is this warden?

Chief Durland stood again. The chief stood quietly for a moment collecting his thoughts.

“You’re not wrong, Sophia. I’ve sent message after message to the warden asking for ‘elp, but it falls on deaf ears,” he said with a noticeable sadness in his voice. “The powers that govern this ‘ere land don’t give a shite about us. As far as they are concerned, we’re expendable. But aye, we need to do something ‘bout the bridge, that why I’m gathering a team of craftsmen to patch the bridge and—”

“Pardon my interruption, Chief Durland, but it seems as though we are just patching these types of problems every few years, we need a more permanent solution, or next time there could be a loss of life,” Sophia said through her growing frustration.

“I ‘gree, Sophia, but we don’t ‘ave the same level of craftsmanship the warden does, and so we ‘ave to make do with what we ‘ave. Unless you know ‘ow to make that thick grey liquid that ‘olds together the ‘ardened clay,” the chief said.

Hardened clay and grey liquid. Are they talking about—

“Bricks and mortar?” I blurted out without thinking.

The felt the whole village’s eyes on me as I sat awkwardly after my outburst.

“What ‘nd what?” Chief Durland inquired?

“Chief Durland, I am sorry to interrupt, but the hardened clay and the thick grey liquid you are talking about sounds like what my people call ‘brick and mortar’, and—”

“And ya know ‘ow to make it, Rend?” the chief interrupted.

“Sure, Chief. It’s simple enough if I have the raw materials,” I said.

No wonder they live in simple homes with thatch roofs, these poor people have been intentionally left in the dark ages by their warden.

“Will ya ‘elp us, Rend? That bridge is a death trap, please.” the Chief asked softly holding my hands and staring up, hopefully, into my eyes.

“Of course, chief. Your village has nursed me back to health and has shown me such kindness, it’s the least I can do,” I answered without missing a beat.

****

The feast wrapped up following a call for volunteers to harvest the remainder of the apple orchard, a discussion on what preparations still needed to be done for the upcoming winter season, and a report by the village guard of a possible bandit camp sprouting up a few days walk from the village.

Sophia made her way through the dwindling crowd towards me.

"Can you really fix that bridge?" She asked through frantic breaths.

"Are you ok? Do you need some water?" I asked.

"Don't worry about me. Can. You. Fix it?" She asked again, poignantly.

"I can," I answered directly, sensing the urgency in her voice, "as long as I can get my hand on the required components."

"Meet me tomorrow morning, after sun break, in the village square. We walked through it today, where the water well is," she said answering my question before I had a chance to ask.

"Sure," I answered.

****

The chief invited me back to his home to spend the night. We spent the next couple of hours talking and drinking by the warm glow of the fireplace. The chief told me about the history of the village, about how it started off as an outpost for the fur trade, but as fur fell out of fashion, so did the outpost. The people working as fur trappers decided to settle on the land because it was close to fresh water, rich in soil, and with an abundance of lumber nearby. The village was on the outermost borders of the region. Peddler's Village was so inconsequential that there was not a single paved road that lead to the forgotten little hamlet. Lacking any value to the region, the ruler of the region, Warden Salmo, did not bother much with the upkeep of the village.

“Chief, can I ask you a question?” I asked.

“You’re curious why I ‘aven’t asked about who you are or where you’re from?”

“Ye—yes,” I answered a little taken aback.

“You risked yer life, while ‘eavily injured mind ya, to save one of me people from drownin'. I think that entitles you to yer privacy. As far as I can tell yer a good man, and I, nor anyone, else needs to know any more ‘til yer ready to share. Anyways, the apple wine is done, and that’s me sign to ‘ead to bed. Goodnight, Rend,” the chief said as he got out of his chair and headed to his room.

I found myself drifting off as the fire softly crackled.

****

You are an absolute fool if you think you can just play construction manager in this pitiful little town. Sooner or later your demon side will come out, and you will embrace your dark side, the goddess’ voice echoed in my dream.

Cut it out with this dark lord shit. I would much rather fix that bridge. Anyways, don’t you have a mute button? I really don't want to hear that shrill voice all night. I am trying to have pleasant dreams, not gut-wrenching nightmares, I thought in response.

SHRILL?!?! How dare you speak to me in such a manner, she said in a shrill. You just wait until the Hero—

*mute*

Ha, what do you know, I can mute you after all. That’s handy.

****