I wandered the streets, looking for anything that might help me get back home.

If I could have forgotten all the bizarre-looking people, it seemed like I had simply gone back in time to the middle ages. Most of the buildings had a shop or a workshop at street level and one or two stories where people lived. Clothes were drying on lines stretched between the buildings on both sides. The streets were cobbled and bordered by a gutter that led to metal gratings spread throughout. The city was loud, with all the people working and talking and bartering. Chariots were coming and going, pulled by animals that were clearly not horses and making noises that resembled nothing I knew. But the odours were the worst of it all. I could not describe it. All the people and the animals, the sewers and the food, all had powerful smells. All of it mixed together and became so overwhelming that I had to escape into a back alley just to breathe and calm myself.

I had to think. I could not simply walk around and expect to find a way home.

Clearly, only magic could have transported me into this world. I knew of no technology capable of this feat, and I hadn’t seen any noteworthy technology here anyway. So I had to find a mage. Preferably one who could teleport people between worlds, but any mage would do, to begin with.

A band of young reptiles were sitting in the corner of the street, playing some game and eyeing me with curiosity. I approached them and cleared my throat:

“Hello! Could any of you help me, please? I am looking for a mage that can transport people to long distances.”

They all stared at me.

“What’s this weird accent?”

“How much will you pay?”

“He looks drunk!”

I looked down at myself. It was true that my unintended dive into the ocean had not been good for my clothes, but I did not think I looked that bad. Undaunted, I tried my best smile:

“Unfortunately, I have no money to pay. But I don’t need much, just a general direction.”

One of them turned to his friend and exclaimed, “Humans are all stingy, my mother told me so!”

“Hey, that’s not true!” I replied, offended on behalf of my species.

“Where’s the money then?” asked another.

“I told you, I don’t have any. If I had, I would, of course, pay you for the information.”

“Well, there you go. No money no answer.”

And they all got back to their game as if I did not exist.

A bit stunned and starting to lose my patience at this world I had been brought in, I walked back into the main street. Luckily, a small, greenish, shopkeeper that had heard my plea took pity on me.

“You won’t find Portal Mages here mister, maybe at the castle but I would doubt it. Your best bet would be at the University in Winory, but that’s a long way away and without any money, I don’t think any carriage would take you.”

I looked at the helpful Goblin. Was it a Goblin? I hoped I was not being racist.

“Thank you, sir. How far away is this University exactly, do you know? Perhaps I can walk there.”

The reptile children suddenly laughed at that. Those scamps had come closer and were listening in.

“You’re too weak to get out of the city!” One teased.

They all promptly ran away though when the shopkeeper slipped out of his stall and started chasing them, brandishing a heavy stick. He yelled at them in a language I did not know. Though I did not need to, to understand essentially what he said. When he came back, his cheeks had taken a brownish hue.

“I apologize for my behaviour, mister. It was unseemly. But those glarik trerk bera have been hanging outside my shop for two days and I know they were waiting for an opportunity to steal.”

“It’s fine,” I replied. “They were not very nice to me either.”

“Yes, it is always the same with these Schalass, you know. They hatch and then their parents never keep an eye on them. They always roam in bands and cause mischief until they are old enough to be put to work.”

I did not, in fact, know that. Neither did I know if it was entirely true or just slightly racist. And it did not matter anyway. I had no intention of staying in this world long enough to learn all the social issues that arose with all these different species living together. I could imagine the mess.

“Don’t worry, I understand,” I reassured him. “But you were saying about this University?”

“Oh yes! The Winory University. Sadly, I am sorry to say that the children were not completely wrong. The University is not that far, perhaps two full days by carriage. But this area is rich in ambient mana and the monsters abound outside of the city walls. I sincerely mean no offence, but you do not look like you would be strong enough to make the journey alone.”

I pondered what the shopkeeper had told me. I should obviously not be surprised that mana was a thing. This world seemed to adhere to all the fantasy staples, and where there was magic, mana often followed. The monsters were more of a problem. I was an accountant, and though I tried to jog as often as I could, I had never practised any martial arts outside of a year of judo in middle school.

“So, how strong would I need to be?” I asked.

The goblin pinched his chin and inspected me.

“I am not sure, in truth,” he finally said. “I have never done it myself, but I have heard talk of it. There are some inns and a rest area about midway, but you still have to spend to arrive there. Do you happen to have a Warrior or Mage Class? Well, not a mage one I suppose, if you did not know about the University. But a Warrior or some kind of Runner could perhaps do it alone. Or if you have healing Skills, I am sure you would have no trouble finding a caravan that would take you without making you pay a fare.”

Ah. Yes. A Class. Skills. Obviously. I closed my eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. The smells were still awful. Breathe in. Breathe out. I would need to meditate later I believed. I was starting to develop some serious anxiety. Finally, I opened my eyes and looked at the shopkeeper.

“I have no Class,” I replied honestly.

He seemed taken aback.

“What do you mean, no Class?” He asked. “Everybody has a Class.”

“I don’t. I just arrived here. How can I get a Class?”

“Everybody has a Class,” he repeated. “At least one. You get the first when you’re coming out of childhood and then you level it or get another one.”

“Well, I don’t have one. I’m not from here. So how would I get one?”

“Classes aren’t just here! Everybody has one, everywhere!” He started to get agitated. “How do you not have a Class? Are you cursed? You are, aren’t you?!”

“What? No! What do you mean? I’m not cursed!”

At least I didn’t think so, though anything could be possible at this point. It would certainly explain a few things.

“You are! You are cursed!” He cried. “Get away from me!”

He shook his stick in front of my face and I figured it was time to leave.

“I’m not cursed,” I said, raising my hands and walking backwards.

“Go away!”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving!”

I quickly escaped from the angry goblin and made my way further into the city. I barely registered the sights. What the shopkeeper said stayed with me and made me cogitate.

I had obviously landed in some kind of game or at least a game-like world. First the fantasy city and the weird species, and now Classes and Skills! This was a nightmare. How the hell was I going to get back home? I couldn’t leave Margaux alone and miss the birth of my child!

I wandered through the streets for some time. I kept looking for one of those portal mages the goblin shopkeeper mentioned, but nothing seemed close to it. The various shops and workshops I passed all seemed rather mundane, considering. I saw blacksmiths and carpenters, weavers and potters and more food stalls than I could count. One place got my hopes up, a shop with a bright magical glow above its door. But the reptile woman inside declared she was only a light mage and simply laughed when I asked if she knew any portal mages.

I even tried to go to the great castle dominating the city on top of its hill. The Goblin mentioned there might be mages there. But the guards looked hostile in their shining armour and holding great glaives that had to be more than 2.5 meters long. I did not want to risk the earlier scene happening again, this time with armed superstitious folks.

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I was starting to get desperate. The sun was setting and my stomach was groaning. I had to find a place to spend the night and where I could ask more questions about this strange world.

I decided to retrace my steps and go look for the human farrier I had seen earlier. He had kids hanging in his stables and they did not look miserable. I thought it was my best shot.

The only trouble was, it had been some time since I had passed by them. It turned out it was not easy to find a specific place in a big and strange city when one did not pay much attention to where one went.

The workers were beginning to leave their shops to go home. The street was packed and the people were not patient. I received my fair share of bumps and nudges.

A chariot came behind, its driver yelling. I could not get out its path in time and the beast pulling it hit me with its muscled shoulder and shoved me to the ground.

Nobody cared. I scrambled out of the way quickly. I sat against the wall and took my head in my hands. The noise did not stop. People kept walking and yelling and my heart kept beating faster and faster. And the odours were crushing me, overwhelming by their intensity. I was on the brink of a nervous breakdown.

I could not lose it now. I had to be strong. I had to get back home.

Slowly I forced myself to breathe, to ignore the sounds and the smells. I could do it.

I finally opened my eyes. The flow of people had dimmed somewhat. Across from me was a small glass window display. I had not seen many of those, mainly on expensive-looking clothing shops. But this one did not sell clothes. It had books inside. A few books were exposed, their cover facing the street. And behind them, I could see shelves full of tightly packed books.

The store seemed empty. It seemed like a lifeboat had appeared before me as I was drowning. I quickly got up, wiped the dirt of the road on my pants and crossed the street. There was a sign above the door. It wrote “Inrak’s bookshop”. The wooden door was engraved with an open book, seeming to fly with its pages.

I turned the knob and entered.

It was a bookshop. A normal bookshop, with its endless rows of books, with this old and comforting smell that they all have. It was a sight from Earth. I sighed in relief. It felt like home.

I looked up and saw dimmed lights floating just below the ceiling. A voice, high and soft, like a child’s, came from the corner:

“Hmm yes? Can I help you?”

Turning, I saw that it was not a child. It was not human either. It was a bird. It came up to my chest, with glasses upon its beak and a flowing red and yellow dress. Rose feathers streaked with grey adorned its head and it held a book between four talons.

Right. I was not home.

“Hello, I’m sorry, there was just too much happening outside in the street and I saw the books and I sought to escape.”

They put down their book and walked out from behind the counter. I had never seen anything like them, but I definitely recognized that suspicious look. I quickly continued:

“I won’t disturb you, I’m sorry! Can I just look at your books for a while? It’s been a long day.”

“Hmm… Can you even read? You look like a homeless person.”

Oh come on! I knew that I wasn’t showing my best, but still!

“I can read, yes,” I said, a bit miffed. “If it’s in the language everyone here speaks at least. And I am not homeless, thank you. My home is just very far away from here and I don’t know how to get back.”

“Hmm… Well. Be careful with the books”. They frowned at me before going back behind the counter and picking up their book.

“Thank you.”

I came closer to a shelf, seeing from the corner of my eye that the owner was following my movements. The books in front of me all had a brownish tone. Small series of three to five black letters were written on their spines. I recognized the letters, they were the same as the Latin alphabet, but no word made any sense to me. I started to panic. Seeing these books had been a great respite to me. If I could not even read them, I was truly lost. I pulled one at random with shaky hands. On the cover was written The life and works of Jard Parson, greatest Gardener of Sturron. I laughed. It was in English! I still wasn’t saved by any means, but this was a beginning and truly my only victory of the day, so I took it joyfully.

I had seen the word Sturron on some shops and buildings so I assumed that it was the name of this city or this region. I opened the book and started reading. This Gardener, with a capital letter because apparently it was not only his job, but his Class, had lived some forty years before the writer, his daughter, and distinguished himself by being a high-level Gardener with no magic at all. She described how he deployed great ingenuity to accomplish the tasks the Duke of Sturron gave him and how he managed what was thought impossible without some magical control over the plants. His daughter truly seemed to admire him. A lot. The parts detailing his genius were numerous.

“So you can read,” said a voice just behind my shoulder.

I jumped. I had not heard the bookseller approach.

“Yes, as I told you.”

“Hmm… Prove it.” One talon came and pointed at the beginning of a paragraph. “Read this.”

I obliged, eager to stay in their good graces and not be expelled from the shop. Some words I did not know but I could understand their meaning from the context. I did not think they were particular to this world but more specific to gardening, which was not a field I had had many reasons to read about in English.

The shopkeeper stopped me after two pages. They were still frowning at me, but with more curiosity and less suspicion.

“I apologize. I did not believe you. Though to my defence, you do not look like an educated man. I am Inrak, owner of this shop and Collector of books.”

They bowed their head to me. I tried to bow in return but it was far less graceful.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I got that and worse all day.”

“Hmm… You said you were far from your home. How did you come to be here in Sturron?”

I hesitated. The goblin’s reaction was still fresh in my mind. If the fact that I had no Class troubled him so, I did not want to imagine what he would have done had he known that I came from another world. However, I wasn’t sure I had the luxury of keeping my cards close to my chest. I needed to find a way home. So I took a chance. I told them everything. How I opened the door to my office on Earth and landed in the ocean. How a reptileperson had fished me out and how magic existed and I didn’t know which one was more dumbfounding to me. I told them about the children and the goblin that somehow spoke English and thought I was cursed, about my roaming in the streets of Sturron in search of a portal mage. At one point I started losing it. I told them about Earth, about my job as an accountant and the invoices I was supposed to check this morning. I told them about Margaux and our coming child, the names we were thinking of giving it, the room we had decorated in our house. I kept blabbering for ages until I could calm down enough to stop. I looked at this birdperson in front of me, more than a bit ashamed and waiting for their reaction. I was already thinking of where I could run and hide if they called the guard on me. I had to seem like a crazy person. I expected the worst. I certainly did not expect the small cooing that escaped from their mouth.

“Hmm… How peculiar,” they said, pushing back their glasses on their beak. “Well, let’s start with the beginning then.”

They indicated a stool next to a shelf.

“Sit there. This is going to take a while. And put that book back, you’re gripping it like it’s a nut you want to crack.”

I obeyed without a word. I was a bit shocked. The shopkeeper, Inrak, grabbed their own stool and sat down in front of me.

“So. First of all, my name is Inrak and this is my shop. I collect and sell books about everything. I am a Collector of books. And yes, this is my Class. Everybody has at least one, but we’ll come back to that.”

They took a long breath.

“You say there are only humans where you come from. It seems rather sad to me but it’s not really your fault is it? I don’t know what the gods of your world were thinking about. Anyway. I am a female Pterar. I would warn you not to call one of my species a bird anywhere near where they could hear. And absolutely do not call a Schalass a reptile, or really any type of reptile they would remind you of. They are far more susceptible than us and far too prone to anger if you want my opinion.”

I took this to heart. Those claws looked nasty.

“But there are humans like me too,” I said. “I mean no offence, but how come those species look like a mix of a human and an animal?”

I knew I had made a mistake as soon as I said that. Inrak’s feathers straightened and her cheeks inflated rapidly. Then she exhaled everything.

“Amazing,” she said and chuckled. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt so insulted. I cannot stress enough how much you must not repeat what you just said to anybody, anywhere, ever. It would most likely be your death. Though I suppose some humans would find it funny. It would likely be their death too. It is amusing though. There is a common joke among some circles that when the Gods made all the species, clearly the most boring one made Humans, because they are just like elves, but less. It is not a particularly good joke.”

“I have so many questions,” I said. “Are your Gods real? Did they really just create all species? Can you see and talk to them?”

“Well, yes. And yes, or so they say, and I am not one to contradict the Gods. You seem surprised. Are there Gods in your world that you cannot talk to?”

“You can talk to Gods, or the one God more often than not,” I shrugged. “But outside of prophets that existed hundreds of years before us, they don’t answer.”

Inrak leaned closer to me. Her beak hanged open.

“But why are they your Gods then?” She asked. “What’s the point?”

“I’m not the best person to ask, but I think some people just have faith that the stories they were told are true. I think a lot of people need to believe that there is more to life and that we are not alone.”

“Hmm… Yes, I can see that. A world without Gods and only full of humans would be rather tedious otherwise. Ha!”

She snickered but quickly became serious again.

“As long as we’re on the subject,” she said, “you will need to go to a temple tomorrow. I have never heard of a portal mage capable of teleporting someone to another world. If that is possible, it will take a God, I think. You can eat and sleep here on the floor tonight. I will find you a pallet.”

I thanked her profusely, which seemed to embarrass her.

True to her word, she served me some bread with morsels of grilled meat. I did not ask what animal it came from. It was good. After the day I had had, it was ambrosia. I left it at that.

Inrak ate with me and answered patiently any questions I had. Apparently English was the trader’s tongue and she had no idea why it was the same as on Earth. Sturron was a Duchy, ruled by a Duchess – which was a Class as well as a title. It was the largest port town around. It served as a hub of trade between the inland, most notably the Winory University and the city surrounding it, and the southern territories. She could not say why I had no Class, but assured me it was not a problem and that the God I was supposed to meet would tell me more. She told me that I could ask for many Gods but that it was better to choose the one most closely related to my situation. His name was Pamasteron, and he was God of the lost, the orphans and the wanderers. It seemed appropriate.

In return, I answered some questions about Earth and my life there. She was fascinated. She even took notes.

Afterwards, I laid on the pallet Inrak had given me. She had dimmed the lights with a click of her talons and gone upstairs, where she lived alone. I did not think I could sleep, but exhaustion soon took over.

I dreamed I was holding Margaux in my arms. I could not let her go. I held so tight and squeezed so firmly that she burst open and transformed into a nut.

I slept very poorly after that.