I rose from my rear and, had a heading. I turned around to look at the door I'd exited and walked only a few paces from. Gone. Nothing but stone woven into the cliff's face. I tapped and touched and pressed and felt all over the greyish stone, flecked with black and white spots here and there, and possessing few sharp edges. Nothing. The doors were gone. And everything left inside, gone. For now.

With no other direction and a vague threat, I followed the lips' instructions. I shifted the backpack on my shoulders and got to climbing down toward the forest below me. I was meant to follow a straight path from the doors through the forest, but there was no direct place from where I was down. The only safe path I could see was a treacherous zig-zag down the dirt and stone. To keep on track, I took a bundle of loose rocks and dropped them down directly as I could from where I stood, to mark where to return to.

One or two bounced here or there, but I had a very general marker in the pile of stones there, now, twenty or so meters below me. The climb down was annoying, and cumbersome in plate with all that gear. I kept checking it all after I'd slide to make sure I didn't drop anything valuable. My boots were excellent, they gripped well to the earth and kept me stable enough. More than once I listed over the side slightly, nearly tumbling.

I got to my rock pile, and got a stick. Who am I to not take advice in traversing the woods? Especially when I'd hardly gone for more than a walk in the park. That's when it was beginning to hit me. A half-day on foot. That's quite a while, hours. Half a day even. I snickered to myself as I went along, had to keep myself company, and what better way than lamenting my so far very bizarre fate?

Throw stick forward. Walk to it. Pick it up. Throw forward. Why, why, why? I thought as I took in my environment. It was a pretty thing, as pretty as an untouched natural environment can be. Familiar too, many of these trees had what I was used to at home. Knotted, gnarled bark, branches short and long, leafy greens. The forest floor had but a sparse layer of grass to it, only small shoots.

I couldn't track the sun well through the branches and canopy, nor could I keep much track of time. When I'd gotten far enough that turning my head meant I couldn't see the Virtuous Ridge anymore, I paused a moment. There was a sound, a screeching almost. Not the high, ear-piercing sort, but the sort one expects from a passing plane or jet. A distant, low screech. And then a crash.

Arkesious' apprentice's words rang in my ears, They'll be on you soon. And my leisurely walk turned into a serious hustle. I nearly forgot the tossing stick in my haste. I wasn't going to disobey what was a very clear directive, even if I didn't understand its purpose. A while later and that fear dissipated, especially when no other sounds or signals came, but I tossed my gaze over my shoulder often in paranoia regardless.

It was during one such peek behind that I saw a figure moving in the woods. I froze up, they were heading the same way as me and hadn't noticed my presence, it seemed. They were a man, or a young man rather. A flash of his burgundy tunic and blondish hair were the details I caught best at this distance, and seeing he was unarmed, I called out and strode over a little.

"Hey there!"

The young man stopped and stared at me. His expression was one of confusion and discernment. "Hallo."

I got closer, weaving here and there past trees to get closer.

"I am looking for a village nearby, do you live there? Or know of it?"

"Dustdown, yes, I live there." He nods curtly. There wasn't aggression to his posture and tone, but lots of apprehension.

"Who are you?"

"I am Alex, and you?"

"Fernau. Well met."

"Yeah. Do you think you could lead me to your village?"

Fernau got a bit stiff for some time, looking around me and the environment as if assessing everything. "Why would you need such a thing?"

"I just woke up, and I have no idea where I am. I was told to go find Dustdown."

"It's not a far walk. I am worried about those weapons, in truth."

I hefted up the spear in both my hands, and with the tip to the sky, I nudged the pole forward a bit. "I've no wish to hurt you or anyone there, at all. In fact, I really need your help finding my way around and getting some information."

At this point, he narrowed up his expression and got a discerning look at him. "Are you with the Adversary?"

I shrugged and shook my head no, "absolutely not!"

He narrowed up his eyes just to a squint and then nodded to me with a firm determination. "I believe you. Follow me, I will show you to Dallow's."

And so we went, quite easily I'd say. I expected more suspicion, but Fernau proved to be amiable enough, and along our walk, we got to talking.

"Who is Dallow?"

"He's the one who took me in after Ma and Pa were laid to rest."

"Sorry to hear about your parents."

He threw up a hand, keeping his face forward, I could tell he was trying to mask his expression and tone too, it had a small tremble of grief to it. "It is what it is, that's what they say."

"Even so. Dallow's treating you well?"

"Yes, giving me work so I can pay off my debt to him."

"Oh? You owe him money?"

"I do. Pa had a lot of coin owed all over the village. It's my responsibility to pay it all off."

I offered only a small hum. It wasn't really my place to comment, and best not to stir the pot too much with my guide, I thought.

Fernau continued of his own volition, however, he wanted to get things off his chest to a stranger, perhaps. "It's been good that I can pay off what I owe, but it means I couldn't afford a bride price for a girl I was very sweet on. And, she and her family all moved from the town last spring."

"I see. What is all this bride buying stuff?"

"Buying? Buying her? You don't know about--" He cut himself off and gave me an incredulous look. "You're not from around here at all, are you?"

"Not at all."

He paused, glanced me over twice more, wincing at the gleam of some sun on my breastplate, and carried on forward, toward the village. "It's just a little something to show the girl's family you can take care of her, and to cover to loss of someone working around the house and land if they have any. It's not really that much but, with Pa's debt and me having to pay it off, I couldn't come up with it."

"That sucks."

"Sucks? What? Like breathing in?"

"Uh, it's a way of saying, 'That's bad'."

"Oh. Well. Yes, it sucks."

I could sympathize to some small degree. But, such ties are gone now.

The village is much what I imagined really. Low, single-story homes with straw latticed roofs. The properties were marked off by fences largely made to keep small domesticated creatures in. My mind immediately clocked them as chickens, but they didn't act very chicken-like.

Dallow's property, as Fernau announced it to me, had a set of these chicken things. Blobby, rounded, creatures with silky feather-like coats and beaks that disappeared into their almost amorphous forms. They rolled around, but with their rolls, I saw little feet. They seemed to shove themselves forward, roll, stop, shove. Insanity.

Walking to Dallow's home manages to draw a lot of eyes.

Fernau went to knock on the door and call for the property owner.

"Alex, are you hungry or something? You're staring at our halflocks," Fernau smiles, his head turned to face me. Behind him, the door to the simple home opened and a portly man darkened the door frame.

"My halflocks, not ours." His pate was balding, a wreath of grey-flecked orange hair hanging by his ears. A stubble roughed up his cheeks and chins, his portly frame granted him a pair of chins more than he needed. Roughspun clothes of a greyish fabric were accented by a dark wool vest and brown trousers.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The look Dallow gave me was not a welcoming one in any regard. In fact, I'd expect that same sort of look from someone on the subway looking for a fight. Half his lip ticked up in disgust and aggression both.

It made me uncomfortable, I was worried I'd offended him by staring at those chickens.

"Hi, I--"

"I know who you are. Seen that armor in storybooks when I was a boy." He pointed down at my chest.

I looked at myself and, yes, I was in the equipment I pilfered. It was beginning to grate on me, wearing all that kit and baggage. My shoulders and hips especially. It falls on me suddenly, I can only assume the thought of rest and some food here was finally hitting me.

"The armor, you mean--"

"That trash you're wearing. Yes. We do not want you here."

Fernau seemed surprised, "Dallow?"

"Shut up, child." He pointed at me for his next words, "You're bad news. Begone from here. No one will help you or assist you. Your test of loyalty will find all of us unwilling to cooperate with the enemy."

I was entirely lost. I had expected hostility, in truth. I was a strange outsider in a small town in the mountains. I suspected some standoffishness, and uncertainty. I didn't expect to be brushed off entirely.

I also didn't expect the crowd I was beginning to gather around me.

Young, old, man, woman, and child. Some were dirty and dressed in work clothes, others quite prim and proper. All staring at me. They shuffled in from the only road in town, the main one. Filtered out from their houses.

Suspicion and discomfort lay on most, but not all, of their faces. Of special note, a homely older woman with an impressive figure concealed in her simple wear looked to me, not with aggression but with what I thought was some compassion.

"I don't understand what's happening. I just woke up."

The older people of the village laughed or sneered, Dallow included. Noticeably, Fernau was just as confused as me.

"Sleepy hero just woke up."

"Go back to sleep."

"We're not going to help him, we'll never help him."

I looked out to Dallow and around me to the others, 'him', they referred to me in the third person despite staring right at me.

"Not been a test like this in years."

"Never like this either. Too unbelievable."

"Don't even tell the kids about the Sleepy Hero no more either."

"Go on! Get!"

I felt embarrassed almost, and a little scared. Not often in my life had such a large group of people surrounded me, let alone been upset with me.

"I didn't mean to anger anyone," I ventured, piping up over the murmur of the crowd.

The kind-looking woman gave me an assuredly sympathetic, sad look, and took her and her son away from the crowd. I watched them go. Fernau backed off from me as well.

There was fear, in their faces, more than aggression. I only noticed it as I looked at them.

"I mean no harm! I am just carrying weapons I found, I don't want to hurt anyone."

"You being here will hurt us! Go away!"

I shook my head in confusion.

"You want to help, eh?" Dallow says, stepping down from his threshold. He faces those behind me more than me. "The old catacomb."

"Cruel."

"Aye, send him there. That’ll get rid of him."

"The catacomb?" I looked back at Dallow from the crowd.

"Aye," Dallow says firmly, looping a finger around his belt. "Big hero wants to help? Go to the catacomb and lay the spirits there to rest. Does us a lot of trouble. Test from the lord? Then sending you off should be enough. Trust we'd send the fiend off if he really appeared, have no worry."

"And don't raise our tithe!"

"Fernau'll guide you."

"What?" Fernau croaked, "I'm not going there, Dallow."

"You'll go. Guide the thing. You'll be safe. It'll probably just send you back."

"Why do you keep saying it? I'm a person am I not?"

"You're a villain is what you are."

"If I go to this place, can I prove I mean well?"

A few laughs, and a few murmurs. Dallow speaks for the crowd. He struck me as the type that spoke over all others, regardless of if they agreed. "Ya, go. Fernau will take you. Send him back when you arrive."

The farmhand didn't look so sure, walking off while eying me, keeping a few paces away like I had the plague. I may as well have, with how much good I would do these folks.

I had no way to know how much trouble simply walking there would have done. I was tired already, but I had a task. I was a hero after all. If I stopped and rested I felt as if I'd not gotten up again until the next day. I looked at Fernau, and he didn't have a happy expression on his face.

Dallow allowed him inside to get a skin of water and a bit of food. The crowd around me was dispersing quickly, and Dallow asked me to wait at the edge of town for Fernau.

I had little desire to argue, but definitely a want to observe and think a moment. I couldn't parse why they had such a hostile reaction to me. I could only think, maybe it had to do with that title of the Sleeping Hero. Being away from your duty for a hundred years might have left a sour taste in their mouths. These were the descendants of people I wasn't around to help.

Then again, they were living just fine to my eye. My ear only caught mention of tithes, which would be natural in any feudal environment. Hell, any government at all has tax. And evading them was a moral imperative, insofar as I was concerned.

With some more reflection, I resolved to shift their perception of me. This was my life, my purpose, now. It was superior to slaving away in an office and paying taxes. I'd prove to these people I could be a hero, that's what I said to myself.

My internal pep talk was cut short by the tugging at my shirt's sleeve. A little boy appeared. He was the child of the woman who was shooting me the gentlest looks in the crowd.

"From momma," he said shyly, thrusting a folded-over piece of paper. Once I took it he was gone, but I called after him.

"Thanks! Bye!" I smiled, but he didn't turn to look.

I unfolded the scrap. Predictably I couldn't read a word. Chicken scratch. But it was written very well, neatly. I just couldn't understand a lick of it. I was surprised anyone here is literate and thought to ask Fernau for a translation later.

I counted my blessings that at least I could be understood verbally.

The rustle of dry earth gave me an alert to Fernau. He'd gotten a light jacket over his tunic now, and a small pouch on his hip, as well as a waterskin strung over his shoulder. Made me hungry and thirsty. I eyed him with blinking curiosity, I wanted to go for my own supplies but felt a little embarrassed.

Such bizarre feelings would be beaten from me with the iron rod of experience in short order. Eat, drink, sleep, relax, and make merry when you can.

"Ready?"

I nodded, and followed him. We went off the main path for a while, in the direction we'd come from. I was reminded of that loud crash earlier. I kept looking in the direction of the underground facility I'd exited.

"Oh, can you read this? A kid gave it to me."

I handed off the note when he made a 'hm' of curiosity. He looks at it while he walks, the stiffness of concern going off his youthful features as uncertainty and effort warped them.

"Gu... uh... " He squints. "Grr, uhm. I-I am not sure. I know some of the letters but, sorry."

He hands it back.

"You can't read?" He asks me.

I shake my head no. "Not this at least. I can read other things."

"Oh."

Silence, awkward silence.

"Why was everyone so upset with me?"

"I am not sure."

"Do you know anything about it? About the Sleeping Hero?"

"I've heard him, er, you called the Sleepy Hero more, like from Pa and stuff. He didn't like you."

"Why?"

"You didn't wake up! Everyone-- it's this way." He makes a sudden turn at a natural fork in the road, leading us in a more vertically inclined path.

"You didn't wake up and that meant it didn't go well."

"Fighting the Adversary?"

"Yes, fighting him," Fernau grimaces.

"I'm sorry."

Fernau takes a big breath, "Pa used to run some weapons for a local militia that wanted to turn over the hobgoblins."

"Hobgoblins, right. Tell me about them."

"Big, strong, frightening."

"Right, but are they with the enemy? The Adversary?"

"Ya, I think so. They own this area, my home, and the city nearby and other places too and such. They own all the land I've seen or even really heard of."

"They rule over it for him, then?"

"I reckon so."

I had time to mull this over, as Fernau fell quiet. Evil lich was working with hobgoblins. Classical.

"What happened to the rebels?"

"They got wiped out. My pa, and the woman he was with before my ma. A girl in that group. Told me when he was deep in his cups one night."

"I see."

"People, like my father's father, waited a long time for you."

"Right."

My voice couldn't hide my emotional response. My taking a nap had caused people to die. People this person next to me know. All because I overslept. Makes the chest heavy.