14. The City That Connects Worlds

Princess. It means princess, not queen.

Yes, apparently, this is one of those languages that needlessly complicates matters by having the same word mean multiple things. In this case, Malika can be either queen or princess. Maliken can be either king or prince, and so on.

I mean, I’m all for appreciating contexts and nuances, but sometimes, simple clarity is good too, you know?

In any case, for the last several days, I’ve been busy settling into my new life in the city of Altikor. Part of what’s kept me busy is grappling with my own reaction to learning that Leto Iriden is a princess and not a queen. I have many feelings on the matter, but if I’m being honest, the most prominent one is relief.

And I’ve been grappling with my own relief at learning that Leto is a princess and not a queen, because… just how deluded can I be?

What, do I think I suddenly have a shot at Elf Princess just because she’s not married? For all I know, she’s already betrothed to some prince of another kingdom. Even if she isn’t, there are probably at least a thousand eligible suitors vying for her hand.

What have I got to offer? An average non-Elf dude with average looks (granted, this depends on who you ask; for example, my mom and my sister have very different opinions on this, so I’ma go ahead and split the difference here). No rizz, no smarts, no talents to write home about. Can’t even speak the same language.

All I’ve really got going for me is the STSG, and I don’t really know how much that’s worth. I’m sure there are a bunch of real, hard-working swordsmen in this world who are just as capable of slaying Dragons or surviving alien bullet hells.

And besides, I still haven’t totally bought into the notion that the STSG is mine. It just sort of fell into my hands, and I’ve just been running with it ever since, with no real purpose or endgame in sight.

Purpose. Maybe that’s the next thing for me to figure out. Forget about my impossible Elf Crush and find something else to obsess over (or at least to distract myself with).

Luckily, there’s no better way to distract myself than to immerse myself in a foreign culture. Especially if that culture happens to be all fantasied out, with sprinklings of mysterious sci-fi elements to boot.

Today, the primary distraction comes in the form of a ‘day trip’ that would take me beyond Altikor’s city limits. Or maybe a ‘day quest’ in this case, judging by the looks of the people I’ve been grouped with.

I’m in a party of four adventurers including myself and—to my major relief—Princess Leto. This kind of relief, I can forgive myself for, because who wouldn’t rather be with a familiar face on baby’s first day at work?

The rest of the party is made up of a Tiefling ‘Knight’ and a Beastkin ‘Ranger’.

The Tiefling woman, called Belpha, looks a lot like the one on the airport mural, to the point where I have to wonder if she might be the same person. Is that racist? I hope it’s not racist. Either way, Belpha’s clearly the ‘party leader’ and has this no-nonsense military way about her, including a bone-crushing handshake that I’m still smarting from.

She’s also the tallest in our group, towering over even Leto. And let me tell you: a muscly Knight in shining armor with drill sergeant energy and a pair of impressive horns to boot… It’s as intimidating a sight as you’d imagine, and I’m just glad she’s on our side.

The Beastkin’s name is Feverfew, and the animal he reminds me of most is a Maine Coon. Lush silver fur, prominent kemonomimi, cat-like slouch—you know, the whole shebang.

He’s got this tuft of almost pure-white fur from neck to chest that’s so big and floofy that I’m having a hell of a time resisting the urge to bury my face in it. He’s defo another one my sister would be absolutely all over if she were here. God, I do worry for my nephews sometimes.

Anyway, Feverfew’s taller than what one might expect of a catperson—taller than me, even with his slouch. I guess it shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise, considering IRL Maine Coons are big boys. He doesn’t say much, and his handshake is a lot more manageable than Belpha’s. I dunno if he’s painfully shy (adorable) or the strong silent type (also adorable), but either way, I take an immediate liking to him, and it would actually bum me the fuck out if we don’t become buddies by the end of the day.

Now, at this point, you’re probably wondering… what about humans?

What about humans, indeed. Counting my time in Kanata, I’ve spent nearly a week in this Isekai, and so far, I haven’t run into a single person who looks like me. I don’t mean another half-Asian Canuck with freckles he’s self-conscious about. I mean like a non-Elf, non-Dwarf, non-Orc, non-… okay, I’ma stop there before I start to sound like Isekai Hitler.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Point is, ‘human’ doesn’t seem to be a fantasy race in this world. It’s possible that I just haven’t come across them yet, but given how many of the other races I see roaming about the place, I kinda doubt that.

At any rate, it doesn’t bother me, and it shouldn’t bother you. Not everyone I’ve met so far are as friendly and hospitable as the Elves of Kanata, but neither has any of them been a dick to my face. I guess I ought to be thankful. It’s one less thing for me to worry about as I try to figure out the Purpose (with a capital P) of my post-Truck life.

But, for today at least, I can distract myself with the more down-to-earth purpose of adventuring with a few colleagues.

From what I understand, there’s an ancient ruin somewhere that’s had some strange monster activity in recent times. The locals there have asked us to investigate and try to put a stop to all the badness.

Us? Speaking of, I don’t even know what ‘us’ is. Am I in some kind of adventurer’s guild now? I did attend a party the other night that was chock full of people dressed in full combat gear, so maybe that’s what that was?

You’d think I’d pick up on important details like this, but you’d be surprised how crippling a language barrier can be. Especially in a world without Google Translate or really any reliable way to refer to my home country/language. I’m doing my best, alright? These things take time.

The party forms up in this big common area: a mess hall where a bunch of adventurer types eat, drink, and strategize. At Belpha’s brusque behest, I wolf down eggs and toast, wash it down with a strong tea that tastes a bit like Chinese medicine (should’ve brought my Kanatian honey!), then it’s off to the races.

Our next stop, as expected, is the ‘airport’. We descend the big central staircase into the open-air atrium and the innumerable Portals that are housed here.

When we get down to the base floor, though, my three party members break off in three different directions without a word of explanation. I’m left stranded on my own in the middle of the atrium, unsure which of them I’m meant to follow.

Then, even as I watch on in confusion, each of them takes a spot on the atrium that roughly corresponds to a giant figure painted on the murals. Belpha turns to face the Tiefling Knight, Feverfew to the Beastkin Ranger, and Leto to the Elf Mage. You get the picture.

They then proceed to raise their weapons into the air—Belpha’s halberd and shield, Feverfew’s bow and quiver, and Leto’s catalyst. Their eyes are closed and their heads are slightly bowed as they each recite some kind of—prayer? Oath?—under their breaths.

And now, for the first time, I do feel kind of left out. I mean, the hell am I supposed to do? Raise my heavy-ass gun-shooting sword towards the sky and pray to the spirit of Charlton Heston?

My awkward-new-kid insecurities aside, the ritual is kind of cool and poignant, and I can’t help but smile broadly as the party members finish their prayers and regroup. Leto returns the smile, Belpha sort of just grunts, while Feverfew averts his gaze and does a quick lick-his-paw-and-use-it-to-brush-his-head thing.

Adorable! Our old family cat used to do the exact same thing whenever she felt a little overwhelmed by our affection. Well, that’s decided, then. Feverfew is painfully shy, and I will make friends with him before all’s said and done.

Anyway, with the pre-game hype-up over and done with, it’s time to Portal our asses to our destination. Belpha leads us into one of the many ‘hubs’ that are arranged in a radial pattern. There, she confers with an official who gets her to sign some papers before handing her a ‘ticket’.

I still can’t read a single lick of Malik-Ennar (‘the King’s Language’), but I’ve had more Portal tutorials since passing my test. As such, I know that the ticket lists out our names, a brief description of our quest, and the exact location of the Portal we need to use (Row 7, Column K—that sort of thing).

From what I understand, the Portals in his world operate on a kind of ‘licensing’ system. Not any regular Joe could walk up and use it, and a prospective Portal-traveler has to pass that alien corridor test in order to qualify. I can imagine a layperson that’s really athletic and also super into Ninja Warrior might be able to pass the test, but the reality is that most anyone who’s licensed to use Portals is an adventurer with magical powers of some variety.

In fact, I’ve since learned that Portallen is the Malik-Ennar word for ‘adventurer’. That’s how much of a cultural cornerstone Portals are to the Malik-Issen (‘the King’s People’).

Kinda funny, isn’t it? I’ve somehow Portal-Fantasied my way into a world where actual Portals are a way of life.

All that to say, by now, I’m fairly comfortable with the idea of stepping into one of these alien contraptions. On this occasion, Leto takes the first leap, followed by Feverfew, then me. Belpha, as the team leader, is the last to go. She gives me an encouraging (?) grunt and a way-stronger-than-necessary push in the back, and off I go into the hydraulic press.

Look, I’m just going to make this clear. At this point in my story as a fledgling Portallen, I’ve had a few practice runs with these Portals. I don’t know how they work, but I know they’re safe and reliable, and I trust that the Malik-Issen know what they’re doing.

So, imagine my surprise when this latest Portal spits me back out in another alien corridor. One that looks a lot like the erstwhile Trial Realm, except, instead of a second Portal at the end, there’s a T-intersection—a fork in the hallway.

What the hell? What’s even more disturbing is that my party members are gone! Neither Leto nor Feverfew are anywhere to be seen, and there’s no sign of Belpha joining me anytime soon.

Did I miss something? Is this another test? Whatever the case may be, there’s nowhere for me to go but forward. Alone.

Welp, so much for a first day at work with my new colleagues. There is a silver lining to this, though. I’ve been looking for ways to distract myself, and this is about as distracting as things can get.