As I walked into the dining room, I saw that the table was already set. A wooden bowl the size of my hands cupped together and a spoon on the side resting on a gray cloth napkin. Growing up, my mother’s Chinese origin meant that she served us the Chinese way. You get an empty bowl, a bowl of rice is set in the middle of the table and everything else is laid out around the rice bowl. Seeing as there is only 1 dish, there’s not much evidence but I am going to go ahead and assume that the culture of this world reflects more towards my Euro American side. My father was born a first generation from an English man and my German grandmother. They had met in the states for work and decided to marry and stay in the US. Whenever we had meals on my father’s side of the family, all of the portions were already set. Willow was still stirring the pot hung over the stove. By stove of course I meant that her stove was basically a small fire built on top of a brick countertop with what looked to me like the entrance to an earthen oven. I’ve gone to pizzerias before, so I knew what was behind that little wooden door. Willow then took what looked like a fire poker and pushed the hook the pot was hung from and it swiveled away. I had not realized that the hook was actually on a hinge. She then took a small shovel and pushed the coals to one side of the brick counter. With a smooth motion, the fire poker was back in hand, shovel hung back on the wall and the pot had been dragged back to its original position. She grabbed a lade that was hung overhead and scooped some of the content into a small bowl. Out of nowhere, Charlee was there taking the small bowl from her and placing it at the table. Now with 2 bowls set in front of each seat, both Willow and Charlee sat down. I followed suit.

  The two of them began to eat immediately. So there wasn’t any equivalent of saying grace. Good to know. I don’t want to be mistaken for some kind if devil worshiper. You never know when it comes to religion. To my left was the bigger bowl. It held what looked like boiled kidney beans. I scooped a few up with my wooden spoon and gave it a taste. It was of course bland and flavorless. It’s not like its inedible but I was still disappointed. There was still option 2, it looked like creamy mush. 1 spoonful later and I came to the conclusion that this was one of those worlds with a horrible since of cuisine. This watered down mash potato stuff is indeed still technically edible but it’s not something I want to be constant eating. My nonexistent game system issued me a quest to bring flavor to the world. Maybe I can be a chef or something to make money. If I follow my godly knowledge of Japanese light novels then I need to start with mayonnaise, work myself to finding rice and then make soy sauce. Everybody will fall in love with the taste of miso and I will be set for life. Nope, not going to happen. Japanese food taste alright but it’s not the end all. Burger and fries, all of the different unending types of pasta, the infinite combinations of soups and stews, pizza, fake Chinese food made for us Americans that love orange chicken, the list is unending. Now that I’ve given this a bit of thought, it may just be a good idea to bring some of these goods to this world. I finish my meal and thanked the girls for the meal. Willow just stared at me but Charlee seems to be cheery.

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  I placed the axe I carried in with me on the table and Willow jumped. When she saw that I had let go of the axe, she seems to have calmed. Charlee seems to be the same as always, oblivious to her sister’s reaction. Now that I see her fist balled up on her sides, I noticed that she was no longer holding her instrument of my painful death. Not really knowing how to ease the tension in the room, I just blurred out my question. “I noticed that the axe was rusted and the blade was chipped, when I looked at it, it seems to have repaired itself. Then afterwards I passed out. Do you know what could have caused that?” Willows eyes widen to show there emerald shine and looked down to the table where the axe laid. She then walked over and took it up. Examining it closely she ran her thumb horizontal to the blades edge, testing its sharpness. I didn’t test the edge myself but from her reaction it was wicked sharp. “Magic” she finally whispered, Charlee seems to have caught her word and started chanting “Magic! Magic!” while running around the kitchen table. Willow then looked down at me and said “You are a Mage?” I just gave her the shoulder shrug. I was hoping it was magic but this confirms this world did have magic. Just 1 small use of magic and I was already on the ground. Guess I didn’t get the infinite MP cheat, but then I remember that my blisters had also healed. I was not just a mage but also a healer. I hope its healing powers and not just regeneration. Any power would be good but being able to heal others would be awesome. I could go around healing people and getting paid. Healers are always treated well because no one knows when they or someone they know will get sick. I am just going to ignore history and all of the witch hunts that happened in Europe and the early days of the US.

  “It’s nearing dark so I will be barding the doors. If you have to use the necessaries, a chamber pot is next to the door in the room I have prepared for you. Willow lead me to the room where I had been restrained and closed the door as soon as I walked in there was still some light but it really was starting to get dark. The room had new furnishings now, a large clay jar next to the door and a wooden table with a straw stuffed pillow with a few of the straws sticking out of it. At the end of my “bed” was a thin blanket. Picking up the blanket to examine it, I would say that it was closer to a bed sheet then a blanket. Beggars can’t be choosers and for someone who doesn’t even own the clothes on his back I will take what charity I can take. I slipped out of the clothes I was lent and folded them up to use as extra padding for my pillow. I then spread my blanket over my bed to use as a bed sheet and laid on top staring at the ceiling. It was rather hot anyways and so a blanket wasn’t really necessary. Before I let myself fall into oblivion, my last thought was “fuck this was just day one.”