We walk into the store. The wooden mammoth of a store. Walls are lined with every kind of medieval weapon you could think of.

I can only half listen to the owner, because the other half of my brain is busy fangirling over the swords and knives and pointy things.

I don't know why I have a fixation with blades, nor does Vialait understand why she does. Maybe it's built in human nature?

"So do we have a deal?" The owner asks.

I shrug, "Sure?" I vaguely understood he wanted our clothes and any earth possesions we had, and he'd kit us out completely in return. It seemed kind of weird but we didn't have any use for them.

I look to my left as Vialait tugs on my sleeve repeatedly,

"We'll need our clothes going back to Low Fantasy Land you know," she eyes me curiously.

"Uhhh, Low Fantasy Land?" I ask confused.

"Earth you dummy, didn't you get any information off Rogue?" she says frowning, "No, of course you didn't you were probably obsessing about magic instead of the fact we're trapped in a magical fucking world."

The cute pants came off; flying off. I couldn't help but recoil a tad, I was mostly thinking about her. It kinda stung.

"Ah ah, I'm sowwiiii. I was kidding," she tugs at my sleeves, cute mode instantly back.

"It's okay, you're kind of right I guess I didn't ask many questions. Anyway we'll need this equipment to, uh, survive?"

I felt goosebumps crawling up my whole body again. I just realised as far as I knew there was essentially no law here.

Every day here might be a fight to live, and where pretty much every person has the ability to crush my head a hundred different ways it was a very scary, very possible reality. If Vialait wasn't here I'm certain I'd have vomitted everywhere.

She nods at me, "You're right actually," and then whispers to herself, "I need to keep you safe, or who'll call me cute."

I had to control the urge to roll my eyes. I'm pretty sure everyone who saw her would call her cute. And what's the point of whispering if everyone can hear you.

There was a clearing of a throat to my right, "I'm Bran by the way." I snorted a little, his name reminded me of Bran the dog. I couldn't help but think how amazingly patient this guy was, maybe he had an extreme patience superpower.

"I'm Pendragon," he snorts back at my name; sigh. "And this is Vialait, also sorry about that," I apologise, "we'll do the trade." Vialait clasps my hand and we walk into the changing room he waves us into, with a bundle of simple clothing that'll go under our leathers.

Changing together was another wonderful reminder how lucky I got with Vialait; kind of couldn't wait until we got a room in an inn or something.

We dressed in the underclothes, they were really soft material in the shape of trousers and a top and that was about it.

Literally no shape to them. Vialait somehow looked cute as fuck in them though, while I looked homeless.

After changing we went out of the changing room and into the main room where Bran told showed us how to wear the leather armour correctly and how to care for it to make sure it didn't turn to shit quickly. It turns out there's a lot you need to know and long story short it's a pain in the ass.

After getting our armour it was weapon time, which was good because I could barely digest what he was saying due to the distraction of all the weapons.

Bran gestured at all the weapons adorning the walls and the racks, "Take any you want, as many you want. I'll help you choose what if you're unsure, however a friendly reminder that being greedy here is more likely to kill you than help you. That being said it's up to you."

"Thank you. What would you recommend for us both?" I ask. There was no point not taking very valuable help. Especially if it was free.

"Do either you have any expertise with weapons of any kind?" He asked kindly.

To which we both answered no in sync and then Vialait turns, flustered, "Hey you can do lots of things."

I shake my head turning to Bran, "The bare basics, you should treat us both like complete beginners," then turning back to Vialait I retort, "I can do things? You're better with a bow than I am."

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To which she giggles to herself. Honestly if I wasn't so in love with Vialait there's a chance I'd think she's strange, maybe.

Bran grinned back at me, ignoring us both, "Well this is why we call it Beginnings after all," he burst into hearty laughter.

I resist rolling my eyes and glance at Vialait, only to find her looking at me trying just as hard no to roll hers.

I feel a smile growing on my face, but turn back to Bran, listening closely.

"Now, if you've never used a weapon before I recommend a longsword or anything shorter. Ah yes, a shield too." Bran tells us, waving wildly at some swords.

"I want something small," I tell him, "a shortsword or long dagger. And no shields." I add. "And I was wondering if you could tell us why we'll need weapons, and why everyone has weapons?"

I only realised this wasn't something I'd thought about yet. Why did everyone have cold steel weapons, bows and more.

Bran turned away from the weapons, looking grim.

"I'm afraid the world of High Fantasy Land lives up to its name. Have you ever read a fantasy book where the world wasn't frought with danger? This world is no different. If you care for your life you will need to arm yourself, and you will need to learn to protect yourself. Even if not for you then for each other." He was dead serious, eyes looked a bit pained.

He turned back to the weapons, the lightness in his voice lost, "Back to choosing."

With a heavy heart from Bran's reminder I add seven throwing knives to my shopping list - seven was one of my lucky numbers, alongside three but I thought three might be too few - and a second dagger, also the same length as the first. The blade on each of them is about an inch shorter than my forearm and deadly sharp. The throwing knives are standard, not very different from what I had at home on Earth but a hell of a lot sharper. All of the weapons get dumped onto a table in front of me, after which Bran took Vialait around the shop helping her choose her own weapons.

I practice swinging one of the daggers through the air slowly, going through the drills for shortswords I learned from HEMA. I was never good and quit within a year, although that wasn't because I wasn't enjoying it; it was mostly because the people that went were so incredibly awkward the whole thing started giving me anxiety.

After a while Vialait walks towards me, a bow slung on her shoulder and a dagger like mine strapped to her right thigh.

I was debating taking a bow too, although I was a little worse at archery than Vialait. Then again that was on stopped targets, the amount of practice it would take to get good would probably make it pointless. I was actually good at throwing knives anyway, plus I would have magic to use eventually, at least I hoped.

"Thank you Bran," Vialait turns to Bran, "I feel a lot safer, I guess this is how Americans feel," she giggles.

"Yeah, thank you," I mimic.

He turns to both of us, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes as he looks us over once.

"Wait  a moment," he says as he goes behind his counter, "here," he hands us both packs.

They fasten tightly around the torso, made of tough hide that's very flexible.

"You've both been respectful and kind," he says, eyes glimmering. "You quite remind me of when I arrived here. Me and my friends." He pauses, his face a mix of sadness and seriousness.

"The world here is dangerous. Dangerous but also far more rewarding than life on Earth. My friends and I arrived here, excited. I didn't know what ability I had at first, but that didn't matter. Myself and my three friends Jake, Paul and Logan went off adventuring." He smiled.

"There wasn't a store at the time like mine here, you took a quest from the Adventurer's Guild and with advance payment bought what you needed and off you went. And off we did go. We had probably been adventuring around for at least six months when we took a quest for some damned forest. Apparently the dead had been found wandering and there was a necromancer that needed removing, an F ranked one. Misranked rather," his smile dropped and he sounded angry and sad.

"I couldn't do anything. We found a dead body and tried to inspect it. Jake, Paul and Logan payed for our mistake with their lives, fighting to keep me alive. I felt so useless, had I my ability I know for certain we would have all survived. We would probably all be drinking fine mead in the capital. Laughing." His eyes watered, voice trembling.

"It was at their deaths I realised I wanted to save. To heal and save people, and so I got my wish. I'm a healer." He croaked the last word.

My heart ripped itself apart for the poor guy, but neither Vialait or I moved. We didn't really know what to say or do.

"So eventually I started up this store with the money from healing. I trade the perfect starting kit to newcomers for their earthly possesions, holding onto them until the day the come to visit Earth and need them back. And then we have a long chat about their adventures. The adventures I wish I could have with my dead friends." His voice was a mix of warmth and hard sadness.

I didn't really know what to say, but I felt bad. I couldn't imagine what it'd be like to lose my closest friends, and I knew I'd literally go insane if I lost Vialait.

Vialait took a step forward, wiping her tears, "Thank you. We'll be back someday with lots of stories, and a barrel of the best mead to talk over."

I offer my hand, "This is a promise from both of us," and we shake.

"Thank you for listening to the story of a broken man," Bran shakes his head, "I've kept you long enough, I have more newcomers to bargain with," he grinned, back to the same person that sweet talked us in originally.

And so we step back into the world, fully feeling like we belong.

I was absolutely pumped to meet Rogue and start practicing magic. I glanced at Vialait, oh so cute Vialait who was busy fangirling over her bow, my heart melted a little.

I was determined to keep her safe.

Out of the store we walked, hand in hand, to the clock tower.