I'd been acting like a fool.

Take over this kingdom? Regain my position? What nonsense was that?

Somewhere along the way I had forgotten how much I had struggled to rule over that city. The nights I had spent training, barely escaping capture with the bruises to prove it, fending off weapon attacks that had left their fair share of scars. Hiding for my life as the gun cocked behind me.

The world was a big fucking place. Why did I think I already knew everything? This place was a complete mystery to me. I was dead, had been reborn, and was stuck in a strange land I knew nothing about.

Okay. Deep breath in through the nose, out through the mouth.

You are okay.

I'd been hasty, sure, but I was still sound of mind and body. I hadn't lost a leg or been imprisoned. Even if the bar was low, it could be worse.

I flipped my hood off and undid the wrap tying my hair up. It fell loose around my shoulders as I shook it out. Dark locks tumbled down my chest.

Wait.

'Dark? But my hair was...'

I pulled at it with my fingers and brought it into the glow of a street lamp. It seems there was one more surprise I had to deal with tonight. As if the light show menagerie hadn't been enough.

My hair was black. Black as the night sky, like a fallen crow's feather, just as it had been in my previous life. Unless I had been losing my mind looking in that puddle just a few days prior, my hair had been golden brown. Was this body becoming more like my old one? That was comforting if so, but also unnerving.

'Could my hair have turned dark earlier when I made that deal with Diane? Can magic do that? I wish it would fatten this poor body up.'

Even more mysteries. If I had known this world had magic I wouldn't have been so quick to take credit for Diane's murder. What else could it do besides causing light shows and coloring hair? Could magic track people? Speak with the dead? Force witnesses to confess?

I had no clue what I was dealing with, and that realization burned like a bee sting. But for now, I was free, and freedom meant time to prepare. There was still potential here; I could regain the comfort and safety I had lost, I just had to find a way to stand above all others. The hood fell low over my face as I flipped it back on.

This didn't mean in the slightest I would be stopping. Just slowing down. I wasn't one to be overly cautious; I was still a risk-taker. Putting my life on the line had gotten me this far, damn it, and I wouldn't be backing down now.

I needed to focus on my current goals, plus a new one; obtain money, secure footholds, and figure out what had just happened back in Diane's bedroom.

My palm was cool, but it tingled from the memory. I was torn, unsure if this power would prove useful or spell my downfall.

Only one way to find out. I needed to use it again. But not yet; first I needed a baseline of how much I could get away with. It didn't seem like magic permeated the everyday. The stores I had been in hadn't filed in for my arrest using magic camera footage, and no one had noticed the coin purses I had stolen from them. If this was the case I had leverage and didn't need to fear being watched with a spell at every turn.

The best place to test my limits was going to be the Outreaches. Diane had spoken of them as the section of town riddled with crime, where guards were paid off or refused to step foot in. These sorts of places had all kinds of shady ways to make cash, and little to no consequences for cheating. So long as you weren't caught, what could anyone do? Call the guards and admit you lost money during an illegal endeavor? Ha.

Tomorrow morning I would head to the Outreaches and scope for a place to run my experiments. Until then, I'd go find a comfy doorframe in a back alley to sleep the night.

Ugh. My back was going to sustain permanent damage at this rate.

'Actual first goal: obtain a consistent place to sleep.'

***

The next day I paid a beggar a few copper coins to direct me to the Outreaches. His wrinkled hands gave me thanks as he pointed west towards the edges of the city. If I followed the direction most 'good n' healthy folk' weren't walking, he said, I would find it.

As I entered what must have been the Hulpine District, where the majority of common folk lived, people of all ages appeared to be flocking en mass to the sound of ringing bells. Curious, and not being too out of the way, I blended with the crowd and followed them several blocks to where hundreds gathered on the sides of a large open street. It appeared to be one of the central pathways of the city, and a row of bell towers dotted along it like street lamps. The houses and shopfronts were well-groomed, and the path was paved with smooth, sturdy stone.

Faces all gazed in one direction, throwing flowers and cheering. Everyone looked towards the entrance of the city, where heading directly for the palace was a procession of soldiers. It was pleasing to see numerous men with long hair among the crowd, meaning that I could still pass for a boy in this world without having to cut my locks. Having long, dark hair reminded me of my previous self. Selfishly, I wanted to keep whatever I could of my identity.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Were they out fighting monsters, Dad?" A little boy to the left of me asked, perched on his father's shoulders with a shoddy wooden sword in hand. In his excitement, he nearly swung it into a bystander's head, but at the last second the father's hand shot out and yanked the toy from his son's hands.

"I told you if you weren't careful it was going to get taken from you." He chided, unmoved by the boy's pleas to get it back. "And they were doing something far more important than monster fighting; they were spreading the word of Ysid."

"I like Ysid. He gave me free bread." The little boy considered, crossing his arms in approval. The father laughed.

"It was Miss Raine at the church who gave you bread, but yes. It was all thanks to God." He smiled, reaching up to rub his son's hair, much to the boy's dismay.

"Don't embarrass me in front of the knights, Dad!" He complained.

Their conversation was drowned out in the shouts of the crowd as the procession made its way to our section of the long road. Freshly shined armor riding atop jeweled horses gave the impression of lovable heroes returning from the battlefield. The leaders of the group gave no look to the crowd, proud and above it all, but some of the other knights responded to the flowers and shredded, colored paper being thrown at them with waves and smiles. Servants walking alongside them ensured the crowd remained at bay, and that the streets were clear for the horses to walk. Children and adults alike looked up at them in reverence. It seemed being a knight was quite the profession around here.

Amongst the cheer of the common people, I couldn't help but frown.

'What kind of journey to spread religion requires swords and armor?'

And where was their stuff? It was odd that such a procession, clearly returning from a long journey, was completely barren of anything the knights would have taken with them. Why have all of their things taken a completely different route?

I also took note of the way that, despite their glittering armor likely looking as brilliant as the day they had left, several of these knights showed little happiness. They kept their heads down, attempting to hide their worn faces and the bags under their eyes in the shadows cast by the mid-day sun. The layers of armor on each of the knights conveniently covered what could have been bandaged wounds.

'Ysid, was it?'

Religious extremism, classism, war; some things about humans never changed. I would have to look into this later, maybe find a church and pretend to be a beggar to get some 'free bread' and answers. For now, the Outreaches awaited and I had other plans. Tunics and shoulders brushed over my head and past my sides with each dip and weave back out through the dense flock. The darkness of the alleyway invited me as I slipped into the darkness, continuing onward to the Outreaches.

With each block I crossed, the cheers and bells became more distant until they had nearly faded entirely. Paved stone paths turned to gravel, which turned to dirt as the houses around me shifted in demeanor from sturdy to dilapidated. A crunch underneath my foot brought my attention downward. A paper fluttered pathetic in the breeze, torn and dirty from being beaten around the streets. As I picked it up, gazing over it, I found that not only could I read this world's language, but that it was a wanted poster. The words on it were limited, further confirming for me that most common folk didn't know how to read very well.

WANTED: RED EYE. INFORMATION --> SILVER.

Underneath the writing was the half-scribbled face of a boy with a single, red-inked left eye. My fingers wandered up to my bandaged eye, tracing over it mindlessly. A map was provided with multiple locations circled; all labelled 'GAURD HOUSE.'

'Ooooh.'

I smirked. How nice of the soldiers to provide me with their base of operations. The paper folded up neatly to be added to my stash of clothing and bandages.

The old beggar from earlier hadn't been wrong about the sort of crowd that wandered the Outreaches. What began as well-dressed, busy common people became weak, starving children and shady men covered in scars and ripped tunics. To be judgemental, anyone who looked like Diane, someone I could trust to have a conversation without trying to rob me, was headed in the opposite direction I was. Not that I expected anything less.

I thought of Diane, recalling her strength. I needed to get that girl training; the earlier the better. My palm ached; weirdly, I had the feeling that she was perfectly healthy. Almost like I could sense how she was doing.

As I strode further into the Outreaches, I was halted by a little girl rounding the corner of an alleyway, stumbling into view. She was several years younger than me but reminded me of the state I had been in a few days ago. Matted brown hair and sunken cheeks, her hands were caked with something that looked to be soot. A shaky voice passed her lips as she blocked my path.

"Y-you sir, do you w-want a way to, to make l-lots of coin?" Her weak voice trembled.

"And what would that be?" I asked. She could very well be a pickpocket, so while I kept my voice soft I didn't get any closer.

"For a few coppers," She continued, pulling one hand from behind her back to reveal a stack of folded papers, "I-I c-can give d-directions."

A few coppers was fine. Poor thing needed it more than me, and I could always snatch more. I put some in her hand, and in return had a single paper shoved at me. Her two twig legs carried her away from me as fast as she could go. Seems I had been duped.

'Or have I?'

Inside the folded sheet were indeed directions, to something unnamed. Uptop was the symbol of a frothing hound facing forward, with the fists of two strong arms crashing together in combat beneath it.

'...a gladiator ring?'

Only one way to find out. Once I made sense of my location per the map, I weaved my way through alleys, past pawn shops and beggars to this 'money-making' opportunity.

This could be perfect.