Korrin opened one eye and was met with a stream of sunlight. Opening the other, he sat up. Korrin had to blink a few times to remember where he was. Why was him bedroom wooden, and so small. As the events of the previous days flooded his head he sighed.
“Good morning cart, looks like I’m still here”
He looked down at his arm, expecting it to still be loosely hanging by his side. No, the t-shirt that he had used as a make shift bandage was gone. In its place was an unwounded limb. The hairs on the back of Korrin’s neck pricked up.
“W-What? Cart, did you do this?”
This cart did not answer. Though, Korrin wasn’t expecting it to. He ran a hand through his hair and admired his now usable arm.
“Well, I mean thank you” he said. Trying not to grin. Korrin’s efforts soon failed.
Korrin wasn’t sure why he talked to the cart. He knew it wouldn’t answer. But something about talking – even if to sentient objects - made him feel less…alone. Before, when he was a lot younger, he had trouble sleeping. His brother would stay up, talking, making jokes. Just until he felt better.
Korrin yawned, and pushed aside the drapes cascading over the sill. He froze. They were on the edge of a town, hidden behind a cottage. Korrin could hear shouts and a bubbly cover of laughter. He jumped back and collided with the wood of the cart.
“Where the hell are we!?”
His clothes were still crusted with blood, and the hem of his t-shirt was slightly charred. Korrin sighed.
“I wish you could talk, darn it. What do we do now?”
Korrin was sure he had fallen into the depths of madness - and though it made him sound madder again - he was intent on dragging the cart down with him.
“Time to face the outside world, I guess” he muttered. He was on the steps of the cart when it began to move. He let out a yelp. The cart stopped after a few moments, abruptly in the town square.
The town square was…lively. People streamed in great clusters in all directions. Lights were strung from house to blacksmiths’ to shop and house again. It reminded Korrin a bit of what it was like back home. He lived in a city, though. Buildings towered, casting shadows over the moving people, filters of creeping darkness. No one really talked. Everyone was just trying to get to a sad job, or school with as much ease as possible.
Korrin liked viewing the walks to school as distractions. Simple deviations from normal life. A small aspect of control that calmed him. He would pass by the park, and look at the ducks, or the leaves. People – usually his mother after getting a call about him being late, again - called it stupid, and strange, Korrin called it normal non-robot behavior.
“So, what do we do now?”
The cart had been here before. Many times. The bustle of the townspeople – that was familiar. The way the day seemed placid, and lazy. Like you could just wait here and listen to the subtle hum of chatter. The cart jolted, stopping in front of a tailor’s.
Korrin raised an eyebrow.
“Here?”
The cart gave a ping. And this time Korrin was sure he wasn’t just hearing things. He couldn’t help the rise of laughter that crept up his throat.
===
Inside the tailor’s it was warm. A bubbly type of warmth that clung to Korrin’s bones and seemed to thaw him, inside out. The sign above the door had read: Doris’ cloths and tailoring. Korrin found a woman at the counter, straining to see out the window. He assumed this was the Doris the sign spoke of.
“Hello?” he said, approaching the woman. She was plump and had kind features. Grey-brown hair was falling haphazardly in her face.
“Oh hello, love. Sorry, is that your cart”
Korrin paused. He wasn’t sure if he classified as the carts owner. After all, it had happened to find him. It didn’t seem to have an owner, however. Or, if it did, they would be long gone.
“Yeah”
“Sorry, love?”
“Oh. Yes, it’s my cart”
The woman nodded. Something unreadable crossed her face then her mouth parted into a big smile. It was a warm smile that showed a lot of teeth. Then she looked at his clothes.
“Goodness. What’s happened to your clothes? Never mind. Don’t fret, I have just the thing”
Korrin followed Doris through a winding passage. Fabric and black boxes occupied half the space, and Korrin was forced to stick to the wall. The shop smelled of must. And the sent moth eaten fabric was now invading his lungs. Clinging to them in a way that brought on a hacking fit. Once the woman had led Korrin into a big room, he gulped down air like he had never before.
He looked around the room. It was filled, floor to ceiling, with compartments. Wooden drawers engraved with neat gold lettering that Korrin could not make out. Doris shuffled over to one of the drawers. It gave a long groan when she pulled it open. Particles of dust formed an angry cloud in the air.
Doris extracted a bundle of clothes and handed them over to Korrin. The garments were simple, a mundane brown. Stitches haphazardly decorated the fabric. Bringing with them a sense of humble wear and many years of tireless use. A single button adorned the collar.
A small smiled played on Doris’ lips. “I’m afraid these garbs are much more special than it would first appear, dear.”
Korrin stood there for a moment. Everything in this world was so strange. A part of him was still certain this was all a dream. But as time wore on, and most of the certainty flickered, the fact that this may be more than a dream was becoming more evident.
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The cart was becoming restless. As the lights of the village swirled, beautiful hues dotting the skyline; the want to wander off became excruciating. It wanted to reacquaint itself with the town it had once known so well. It pushed down the longing and decided to have some last shreds of self-control.
Korrin gave the woman many gracious thanks and was about to head on his way. “Oh wait, dear. One more thing” Doris called.
She rushed into another room and after many moments of furious shuffling, came back in with a triumphant expression lighting her features. “Here you are, dear” she said, holding a small black box out to Korrin.
Korrin took the box and quietly examined it. It was nothing out of the ordinary, a plain black with a small silver symbol. An offset square with a sword in the middle. He slid off the lid. Inside was a dagger. Several indents ran down the black hilt. As though it had been used in many battles, and proved trusty time and time again.
Given what had happened in this strange world so far, offering a dagger to a teenager did not seem too strange. Plus, it might prove useful in any future conflicts where he would have to fight off future assailants.
“Thank you” he said, admiring the intricate grooves decorating the blade.
“I wish you luck, traveler” Doris said. Her eyes burned with bright sparkles. And she gave Korrin a last fading smile, before disappearing into the hallway.
===
The garments were light in Korrin’s hands, and he carried them with bounce in his step and a smile on his face. The cart was waiting in the same spot Korrin had left it. It gave a happy ping when he came up beside it. He sighed.
“And thus begins my dissent into madness. Hello, cart”
Korrin ascended the steps to the cart and it jolted forward. He gave a brief exclamation and they were on their way.
The cart stopped on a hill, a short distance from the village. Korrin threw his clothes into a ragged heap on the floor and pulled on the newly obtained clothes. They seemed to fit perfectly, comfortably hugging his frame. He hung the dagger on the belt at his side, and picked up the heap of discarded clothes. A ball of paper fell onto the floor. Korrin bent down to pick it up.
Ink bled into the paper – a result of the previous day’s rain – leaving a mass of unreadable notes in its wake. He could still barely make out the title.
With a sigh Korrin stood up.
“I reckon we should find a place to stay for the night. No offense but your floor’s kind of cramped”
===
Korrin left the cart behind the inn. He had eventually found boarding. Though it had taken several tries. He pushed open the door and it gave a creak. Warmth clung to his bones. The inn itself was homely. The lanterns hanging from the ceiling emitting a warm light that brought with it a lively glow. It looked friendly, and open.
The occupants of the inn, however, were…different. The hall branched into a large common room. Cloaked merchants and travelers crowded tables. A buzz of low chatter hung over the room.
Korrin made his way over to the front desk.
“Hello, I was wondering if I could get a room for one, please” Korrin spoke the words quickly and they merged into a stuttery, fast spoken mess. The inn keeper nodded. “Sure thing, kid.”
He handed Korrin a key. Korrin was about to ascend the old wooden staircase, when he saw a piano back in the common room he froze. A small grin spread across his face.
He sat down. The piano itself was old. The wood looked well used. But the keys were perfectly in tune.
Korrin began to play the first few notes of a piece he had learned a few years ago. Then text appeared in front of his face and a voice started to echo through his head.
System: +100 XP
System: Talent level 1
“Ahh! What the heck!? WHY IS THERE TEXT!!?” Korrin couldn’t help but yelp. Nobody seemed to notice except a girl who began walking over to him. She brought him to a corner of the room.
Korrin struggled. “Help! I don’t want to die!” But the girl had a firm grip and resisted Korrin’s struggling.
“Stop. Okay?” she said. “I think I can help you”
He stopped struggling, but gave her a skeptical look. “How exactly?”
She sighed. “The text, it happens whenever you do something new. I mean, it wouldn’t show up if you jumped off a cliff. Things like that-“
“If you jumped off a cliff, you’d probably die before the text could appear. If it did appear, that is.” The words quickly ran from his mouth and Korrin regretted even uttering them. “Sorry, I just think -”
The girl ignored him. “You also get XP. I think that when you reach a certain level you might be able to go home”
Korrin’s eye widened. “You’re not from here either?”
“No. I just woke up here a few days ago”
Korrin grinned. “That’s great! We can work together!”
The girl paused. “It might help. We could share resources, and there’s less chance of dying from a wound – Okay, sure that’s not a bad idea”
She stuck out her hand. “Rin Danvers”
Korrin took it. “I’m Korrin Thorne.”
Rin paused. “What skill do you have?”
“Sorry, what?”
“It says it on your wrist”
His eyes strayed to her wrist, there was gold writing lining it. Little letters embedded into her skin with gold. Korrin checked his.
“Cart master? It says cart master”
The cart. That cart the one that was now behind the inn. He was its master? Since when did carts have masters!?
Rin grinned “Interesting. Apparently, I’m a strategist. Whatever that means”
“Maybe you could ‘strategize’ the best way to not get our heads bitten off”
Korrin was never good at humor. Whenever he tried to make a joke it came off as dry, or stupid. And though this joke seemed no different, Rin snorted. Knowing his efforts at comedy had worked put a slight bounce to his step as he ascended the stairs to his room.
He had to travel another set of stairs again when he learned that his room was in the attic. It was plain, but homely. There was a fire place. Tongues of fire that illuminated the room. Its dancing crimson and amber sparks made Korrin think that he wasn’t so alone. At least a lot less lonely than he had been that morning. Aimlessly wandering through a world he did not know how to navigate.
Korrin discarded his boots in a pile beside the door. He warmed himself by the fire for a bit. His mouth curved into a smile. He was warm, and he had two new traveling companions – a cart and an actual human! – albeit the former was a sentient cart. After a few moments of standing by the fire he walked over to the bed and dived in. Sinking into the soft quilt. Sleep soon claimed him.
===
The drapes of the cart were pulled close, as it rambled past the various villages and towns that seemed to make up this new world. Inside two people were deep in conversation.
“What do you mean you call them chips? THEY ARE NOT SHAPED LIKE CHIPS! CHIPS ARE POTATO-Y…and cylindrical -” the boy yelled.
“What do you mean ‘cylindrical’? THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE! Stupid half-baked toad zounderkite!” a girl yelled back.
“At least I don’t have the vocabulary of the child of a Victorian child and a witch from the middle ages!”
“Well the insult ‘zounderkite’ wasn’t popularized until the late twentieth century. So I would have to have a time traveler sister, or something”
“One of your parents is a witch! They could have used magic to find insults from the ‘future’”
Rin sighed and slapped a palm against her face. Under her breath she muttered, “You look like a witch whose execution was stopped, mid-way through”
The cart stopped suddenly, sending both Rin and Korrin face first into different ends of the cart. It started to shake violently.
“Maybe the cart doesn’t like hearing arguing” Rin suggested.
“Maybe it heard how bad your insults were” Korrin replied, opening the drapes of a still shuddering cart. Sunlight streamed into the cart and fresh air filled his lungs.
“This looks like the field I was in when I got here” Korrin said, sweeping his eyes over the landscape. He could see faint mountains in the distance.
“I woke to an angry swarm of purple bees.”
“Did you have anything with you, when you…woke up?”
“A ripped page from a book. Nothing much, though.” Rin extracted a crumpled page from her pocket. The print was small. She let Korrin have a brief read over it.
“Is that Orwell’s 1984?” he asked. Rin gave him a nod.
The conversation had taken a sharp turn from screaming insults to pleasant chatter. After a few moments the cart came to an abrupt stop and gave a happy ping. Rin smiled.