Arcturus reached the door without incident, placing his hand on the handle and opening it, only to stagger as he did.

Agility Check successful! Stumble resisted!

Noise hammered at his ears in a disorienting cacophony, forcing him to take a moment to adjust to the sudden change from what had been near silence. Thankful for the rapid capability for adjustment his ears showed in that moment, Arcturus slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him, taking stock of the hardwood corridor he found himself in. The hallway was long and narrow, stretching three doors down to his left, and five doors down on his right. There was a set of stairs directly in front of him and facing to his right, heading down to where the jovial noise was originating, and likely where he needed to go to find answers.

No time like the present, Braveheart.

Grunting quietly at the mocking voice in his head, Arcturus decided to dispense with his sneaking when he realized there was no way to avoid traversing the stairs to the boisterous area below. He swallowed any lingering hesitation as he took to the stairs, descending each one with projected confidence that utilised every ounce of his increased charisma. When his line of sight cleared the top of the stairs, he was forced to stop short at the sight that greeted him.

The bottom floor of the building was massive, far larger than he’d previously considered possible. Several other staircases led to separate second levels that Arcturus could only assume were more corridors and rooms, and on the palatial ground floor itself nearly forty tables were spread throughout the space – each one occupied by at least two people. To top it all off, the entrances looked to be a pair of massive saloon doors that were even then seeing people enter and exit with respectable frequency.

He felt as if he’d transitioned to some bizarre mix of a science fiction and fantasy series, with women in traditional fantasy ‘bar wench’ attire serving everything from steins of what he assumed was frothy ale to fine glasses of modern-looking cocktails that smoked, bubbled, or even glowed in some cases. Swords, axes, and daggers of many variations dominated the hips of dozens of patrons,paired with steel weapons that looked like nothing more than energy weapons from several different science fiction tales he could think of.

Much to his subconscious relief he spotted more than a few people wearing clothes similar to his own, though in some cases they were paired with extremely advanced looking gauntlets, breastplates, belts, or other pieces of what he could only call powered armour. The incredibly chaotic mess of it all floored him, leaving him standing on the stairs and gawking like a child at a cosplay convention. It was likely that same shocked gawking that earned him a growing amount of attention...

[Stealth] check failed!

[Stealth] disengaged!

...From almost everyone.

So much for a smooth entrance, eh?

Arcturus was too stunned to even respond to his sardonic subconsciousness, taking in the eclectic crowd of dichotomous characters and trying not to look like he’d been backhanded by a sledgehammer. It wasn’t until he noticed the mutterings and cautious looks that he realised exactly how closely people were paying attention to him, and his instincts told him to vacate the stairs with as much haste as possible.

Perception Check successful!

Insight Gained: Something about your appearance, perhaps something to do with your features, has left a markedly wary or even inhospitable feeling in many who’ve noticed you. Furthermore, you can’t help but notice a distinct lack of people with features like your own in the crowd! Whatever could that mean?

“My lord?”

Arcturus stopped short of the second to last stair as a clear voice cut through the din, drawing his attention to a curious, redheaded young woman who couldn’t have been much older than eighteen or nineteen. She was dressed much like the other ‘bar wenches’ in what was some sort of inn attire crossed with the trappings of a western-style saloon ‘bar wench’, with ruffles over her ample breasts and calf-high boots complete with spinning spurs and a brown leather finish.

“My Lord? Is something wrong with my clothes…?” She asked, glancing down at herself in concern, and then back up to him.

“Your clothes? I… No, no, I’m sorry. I’m just a little, ah, confused?” He cleared his throat nervously. “Yes, confused.”

Charisma Check successful!

The young woman blinked at him with her wide green eyes before her lips abruptly formed into an ‘O’ of realisation. “Oh heavens, you’re the Lord they brought in from the forest! Of course, they said you were unconscious when you came in.”

She smiled at him warmly, taking her dress in her fingers and dipping into a perfect curtsy. “Lilian Terse, at your service my lord.”

Willpower Check successful! Panic attack resisted!

Arcturus blinked at her, carefully working to suppress the building panic in his mind as he stepped down and took her gently by the arm, drawing her away from the staring patrons and near to a more secluded part of the establishment, behind a suitably obstructing pillar. “Listen, I’m really sorry, but I have no idea where I am, or what’s going on.” He leaned back around the wooden pillar they were sheltering behind, checked out the few people still shooting curious glances their way, then looked back to Lilian. “Can you tell me what day it is and where I am, Lilian? That would be really, really helpful.”

Charisma Check successful!

Lilian blinked at him owlishly and then nodded slowly, lowering her voice to speak in a more hushed manner. “I understand, My Lord. You must have suffered a head wound, it’s very common to have forgetfulness after those.” She smiled as she spoke, softening the blow before continuing. “It’s currently Saturday morning, and you were brought in two days ago in the afternoon. As for your location, you’re at the Foxy Princess Inn, the best establishment in Luxanium.”

“I’ve been asleep for two days?!” He exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

Lilian shifted nervously at his exclamation, suddenly looking a little fearful.

Perception Check successful!

Insight Gained: Lilian and likely everyone else seems to believe you’re some sort of noble! Raising your voice or acting agitated is very likely to cause fear or anxiety in those you’re speaking to, especially perfectly innocent bar wenches who are just trying to help! Best control yourself, Mr. Lordling!

Arcturus blinked at the alert in his mind, and then quickly smiled apologetically to Lilian. “Sorry about that little outburst there, Lilian. I’m just, ah, extremely confused and overwhelmed by everything. You… you said we were in the Foxy Princess? In Luxanium, was it? Where exactly is Luxanium?”

Charisma Check successful!

Lilian watched him warily for a moment longer before relaxing, smoothing out her dress as she gathered herself. “I understand, my lord. I imagine you must be very frustrated at your own confusion. Maybe I can jog your memory.” She took his arm shyly before he could object, and led him quickly towards a nearby bulletin board, gesturing to what appeared to be a perfect rendition of a world map… one that looked absolutely wrong. It looked like the mesh of Pangea and the Modern Map of the World, as if continental drift and landmass alteration had halted abruptly.

“We’re here, currently.” she said as she pointed towards a colossal continental landmass that seemed to consist of what he knew to be North America and Russia fused together. “Specifically, we’re in the city of Luxanium, in the Imperial Dominion of Valaria.”

“Imperial Dominion?” Arcturus asked without thinking, staring at where her finger was pointing.

“Um, yes.” Lilian said, watching him with wide eyes. “The Holy Aquilan Empire. Are you sure you’re alright, my lord?”

Arcturus didn’t answer her immediately, staring at the map with a mix of shock and growing panic, his eyes racing across the expanse of its beautifully rendered surface to try to find something familiar. Everywhere he looked was contradiction, wrongness, and an echo of what he knew to be real, but impossible in its place. He could make out the contours of the United States’ topographic borders, yet they were merged and shifted in ways that made it impossible to properly separate the landmass. He was looking at Earth, but Earth hundreds of thousands of years prior to the time he’d lived.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Perception Check successful!

Congratulations! [Cartography] (Active, Level 1) Unlocked! Your father’s hand in your upbringing, combined with your impressive pursuit of political science and military history both modern and ancient granted you quite the skill at reading, and even drawing maps. In this strange new world you find yourself in, this skill could be critical - unless you enjoy wandering aimlessly in circles!

Yet from everything he’d seen, the technology of his new reality was superior to what he’d known of Earth’s in many ways, and there was magic too. Real magic. Not parlour tricks and deception, but honest to God – Order, whatever – magic that he himself had wielded to lethal effect. “Lilian, I’m really sorry, but do you mind if I ask you a few questions? Just… just answer me as best you can. I promise, I won’t get mad, but I’m having a bit of difficulty getting my head together. It must be the injury.”

Charisma Check successful!

Lilian bit her lip for a moment, then nodded after consideration, glancing surreptitiously around them before focussing on Arcturus. “I’ll do my best, My Lord.”

Intellect Check unsuccessful! Her use of title continues to bewilder you!

“Right. Well, that first. Why are you calling me that? ‘My Lord’ I mean.”

“Is there something else I’m supposed to say? I’m sorry if I offended you! I just assumed…”

Arcturus smiled at her as best he could, with his heart hammering against his ribcage so hard he felt it might burst out. “You haven’t done anything wrong, I’m just confused. Who do you think I am, exactly?”

Lilian blinked, seeming more at ease, and yet at the same time still unsure – and even a little uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t presume to know your name, my lord. I just know proper courtesy. You’re clearly part of the Nobilis Imperia.”

Intellect Check successful!

Congratulations! [Arcane Linguistics] (Passive, Infinite Scaling) Unlocked! Your unconventional birth and violent entry into the world have catalysed a foundational association to the reality of the realm. By Luck or subconscious design, your ability to discern the languages of those you speak to is far more than a talent – it’s a literal power! You need never fear communication problems, though it’s definitely going to raise questions if you start speaking to Golems! Try to avoid befriending anthropomorphic rocks, eh?

“So we’re speaking Low Aquilan, not English, and you just said I was a member of the Imperial Nobility in… High Aquilan?” Arcturus muttered it to himself as much as to Lilian, but his words seemed to hearten her as they came out.

“I’m not sure what “Eenglis” is, but yes my lord! It seems your memory is recovering!” She beamed at him. “I’m so glad.”

“Yeah, me too.” Arcturus said, turning to her. “May I ask why you think I’m an, uh, member of the Nobilis Imperia?”

Lilian blinked at him, then blushed profusely. “My Lord, you know I can’t say that!”

Arcturus looked back at her blankly, confusion written on his features. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Well, you know, it’s considered rude to stare at the…” She nodded, reaching up to rub her fingers against the very much rounded top of her right ear. “I’ve heard stories of people being flogged for staring, Gods strike me if it isn’t true.”

“My ears? You’ve been flogged for looking at someone’s ears?” He asked in quiet incredulity.

“Not me personally, my lord, but I’ve heard stories! That and staring into an Archon’s eyes. But I figured you were so nice, and your eyes are so beautiful I just…” Lilian looked down, another flush creeping across her freckled cheeks as her voice trailed away meekly.

“Yes! I mean no, I mean you can look into my eyes. I prefer it! You can always tell an honest soul by eye contact, as my father used to say.” He frowned thoughtfully as she smiled at him shyly, pondering what she’d said. “You called me an Archon, right? Is that, um, a position you think I have?”

Lilian peered at him curiously as he asked the question, as if wondering if he was tricking her. “If you’re asking if I think you’ve undergone your Sanguination, my lord, then no. You look old enough, but I’ve seen Archons before, and you aren’t wearing your ring or medallion. I wondered if maybe you even were one at first, admittedly, because I can’t see an Aetherblade anywhere on you – but I suppose that would make sense if you were brought here injured and near death.”

Perception Check successful!

Insight Gained: Your appearance appears to connote membership to a powerful bourgeoise within the upper class of the Holy Aquilan Empire. From what you’re able to discern with logic and provided information, Archons are not merely Nobles, but some sort of highborn warrior elite, feared and revered in equal measure. Perhaps you can use that apparent likeness to your benefit?

“Yes,” Arcturus responded in a mild daze, staring at the map, then back to Lilian. “Say, Lilian, is there any kind of place of knowledge nearby? Like a… a Repository, or a place where you can find information…?”

“Do you mean a Library?” She asked with a smile.

“Oh, well, yes. A Library. Of course it’s called a Library. Aha.”

Smooth going there, genius...

“You are very funny, my lord. Yes, there’s a Library nearby. It’s just a dozen blocks distant, right by the Cathedral of Saint Amélie.”

Willpower Check failed! You are visibly shaken!

“C-Cathedral of S-Saint Amélie?” He asked, feeling himself go very still.

“Yes.” Lilian said slowly, more cautiously, as if worried she’d managed to finally commit a faux pas. “The Valkyries there will probably be very helpful if you’re still, um, distressed my lord.”

“I see.” Arcturus responded distantly, breathing carefully to avoid hyperventilating. Amélie was probably just a fairly common name in the Aquilan Empire, given their seeming love for all things Latin and European, if the names and what little societal information he’d gleaned was anything to go by. It was a mistake to let the mere mention of a name unsteady him so thoroughly. Except… He had willed himself to arrive at the location closest to his friends. His thoughts, however, had still focused on Amélie. What if instead of his Amélie, it had simply been an Amélie? Just like what had happened when he’d left The Highest, and thrown himself into True Oblivion instead.

“My Lord?” Lilian asked falteringly. “Are… Are you alright?”

“Yes.” Arcturus responded quickly, surprising even himself as he honed in on Lilian with razor focus. “Lilian, which way is the Cathedral and how far is it by foot?”

Lilian squeaked when he spoke, turning beet red and answering in a rush. “North-East and no more than twenty minutes as the bird flies if you walk quickly and don’t stop to lollygag or stare at the monuments and people which-I-definitely-don’t-do-and-would-never-do-because-I’m-a-loyal and-productive citizen-of-our-nation-long-live-The-Emperor!”

“Right,” he said distractedly, ignoring her as she sucked in air after her rapid word vomit. “Thank you, Lilian. You’ve been very helpful, I’m in your debt.”

He was moving even as he finished speaking, striding purposefully through a crowd that, had he been paying better attention, he might have noticed parting around him, with any eyes that caught his own dropping his gaze quickly. Of course he never noticed it himself, too consumed by the possibility that not only had he failed once, he’d failed twice and in as spectacular a fashion as anyone might have thought possible.

Perception Check unsuccessful!

Perception Check unsuccessful!

Perhaps it was for the best he noticed nothing, even when he pushed through the Inn’s wooden doors and out into the wide-open, smoothly constructed bustling streets of what could only be the heart of an immense metropolis. Had he not been distracted with his goal or thoughts of disaster, after all, he might have had time to take pause and wonder at the pale, terrified faces of the people he’d passed – many of them looking capable of killing him in a proper contest, either with their hands or the weapons they carried.

Instead his mind was consumed by nervousness that fed his state of situational ignorance as he walked on, gaze firmly fixed to the North-East and his chosen destination — utterly unaware of the small group that followed cautiously in his wake.