The “fun” part of town was the markets. The crowded streets opened to a series of shops and stalls stretching multiple blocks in length. Around the periphery, buildings housing guilds and service centers drew in crowds while the center was packed with people. Shuffling up and down the rows of stalls, people and mounts purchased items of all kinds—from cooked food to jewelry or magical weapons.

A gnomish woman sold spanners and buckets of bolts, a dwarven family traded cash for old necklaces and rings to smelt. Heat radiated from a man made of lava—an elemental—while a few stalls down, the air froze over as a merchant explained to a young sorcerous how a blizzard wand worked. Near the edge, a bidding war commenced, a stalemate pushing the price into the triple digits—what they were bidding on, Luka didn’t know.

“Buy one, get one free! Muscle Toxin! Strengthen your muscles faster with only minimal poison to your body!” a teenager shouted, drawing people to his booth.

Franky gravitated to the storefront. “How much?”

“Ninetee—”

Franky scoffed and kept walking, the teenager dropping the price with every step.

Guess the price is too high, Luka thought. But did he say minimal poison to the body?

They spent an hour looking through the bits and bobs, slowly making their way up and down the stalls. Franky bought a few small things—mostly items that dealt with muscle gain or baldness. Apparently, he wasn’t bald by choice.

“It just doesn’t grow on my head!” Franky told Luka as they stepped away from the main market down an alley.

Luka eyed the shine of his friend’s green skin. “I think it looks nice. Really highlights the definition in your arms and chest.”

Franky’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Sure. Without hair to be distracted by, all I notice is your muscles.”

The orc beamed as they traveled to the edge of the city. The cobble ground turned to dirt, and the shops transformed into beast-related—a leather worker selling saddles, another trading in buckles and fasteners, and a third selling both. Buildings stretched from one another, giving room for dire-beasts and regular animals alike.

Luka recognized the usual farm animals from Earth—all of which were slightly off compared to their Earthen counterparts. Pink cows, mutated pigs, chickens that could actually fly. Then there were the other animals. Luka stopped and stared at a slithering creature made of void black eels. It made his stomach churn as he looked at it, and his heart beat faster.

“Never seen an eldritch horror?” Franky asked. “Gross little guys, but they’re great at keeping barns clean from vermin and pests.”

Luka’s mouth went dry. “What kind of vermin warrants that thing?”

“Rats, cockroaches, occasional snakes. The usual.” Franky scratched his chin. “Anyway, come on. Zora’s is right over here.”

They entered a gated building’s courtyard—and were instantly swarmed by two dozen dogs of various sizes. They jumped up on Sebby and Leo’s legs, barking and licking. Franky laughed to himself, slipping off his mount and wresting a rubber ball from one of the dog’s mouths. He threw it—and all the dogs rushed to fetch it.

The dogs fought for control of the ball, eventually bringing it back. This time, Luka threw it, and again, the dogs ran off. As a kid, he remembered playing fetch with his dog—Walter. Walter was a good boy, albeit too stupid to understand that “fetch” meant to bring the ball back. Luka smiled at the memory.

“Gak!” he yelled, warm liquid dripping down his pant leg. A dog! A dog had just peed on him!” He kicked his leg out, waving it around in the air. Luka practically growled at the dog—a pug-looking thing that looked wayyyy too happy and content with itself.

“I see you’ve met Leaker,” a voice said.

Turning, Luka and Franky found a middle-aged orcish woman. She wore overalls and had plenty of tattoos—various breeds of dogs mixed in with glyph-like etchings. Soft, kind eyes gave Luka a sorrowful look before she turned to the dog. “Bad Leaker,” she cooed, her words stern but her tone loving.

“Leaker?” Luka asked before considering his wet leg. “Good name.”

The pug sauntered over, sitting at his feet without a care in the world. It flopped against him, even as Leo bent over and sniffed the wayward pup.

“Leaker,” the woman cooed again. The dog put his paw on Luka’s boot. “Good boy!”

“That means ‘sorry’ in dog-sign-language,” Franky said to Luka. He then turned back to the woman. “Zora! So good to see you again! The village just isn’t the same without you.”

Zora punched Franky’s fist hard. “You were just a teenager last time you came by! How come you and that sister of yours never visit?”

“Todd works us to the bone!”

She laughed. “Same old prickly walrus?”

“Walrus? More like short finned rainbow!” The pair laughed. Franky then clapped Luka on the shoulder. “Zora, allow me to introduce you to someone special—this is,” he leaned in close and whispered, “World Walker Luka.”

Slowly, Zora’s eyes widened. Luka thrust his fist out. “Hello,” he said.

It took a moment, but the orcish woman eventually punched his fist. “H-hi.” The horde of dogs dropped the rubber ball at her feet. She picked it up and tossed it, overcoming her stupor. “What can I do for a ‘World Walker?’” She mouthed the two last words.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“I want Leo here,” Luka gave his mount a nice scratch on the chin, “to be able to change size by his own will.” He made sure to emphasize the last part to avoid confusion.

“And does Leo want that?” Zora asked. The giant white wolf nodded his head vigorously. “Okay, that’s easy enough… Sorry if this comes off as rude, but why are you hanging around Franky here?”

“Hey!” Franky demanded with fake outrage.

Luka laughed. “He and Eve were the first two people I met in this world. We became instant friends.”

“He’s joining the village,” Franky added.

Zora raised an eyebrow. “Why? When I left… let’s just say, I stuck around as long as I could after the mine collapsed.”

Luka didn’t have to think about the question. “I like it out there. The people are all great, the area is beautiful, and the kids—they’ve grown on me. And it’s quiet, unlike here.”

She nodded in agreement to that last one. “Sneerhome is very loud, yes. But Emberwood was a failed village when I left. I can’t imagine how it is now.”

“Mayor Tram’s got a plan for that,” Franky said, adding a hint of mystery. “She has her own World Walker on retainer, remember?”

Luka smiled at the theatrics. “I filed paperwork with Sneerhome earlier today—building permits and vendor license.”

“Emberwood’s ditching the mine-economy?” Zora asked. “That might work… what’s your export going to be now?”

“Entertainment, thrill, magic.” Luka shrugged. “We’re still figuring things out—” Warmth cascaded down his leg again.

“Leaker bad!” Zora yelled at the pug. The dog slowly put his back leg down and tapped Luka’s boot with his front paw. “I don’t believe you’re sorry! Not this time!”

Leaker barked and sprinted off toward the pack of dogs fighting over the rubber ball.

Zora rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Come on, Luka and Leo, let’s get you two sorted out before Leaker pees on you again.” She led them around the back of the yard and into a large concrete glyph. “Keep talking about your plans for Emberwood, please.”

Luka wagged his leg around, drying it. “It’s all going to start with a Ferris wheel…”

***

Eventually, they left Zora’s house of dogs. Franky rode on top of Sebby, yet Luka walked beside a shin-high Leo. A deep green tattoo crested around the wolf’s neck, hidden beneath his fur. It glowed whenever Leo changed sizes; the magic connected to Luka as a sort of siphon. Leo didn’t have magic, but his rider did—and that was enough for the spellwork to change his size.

Luka felt a small drain on his magic reserves as Leo changed his size again, this time growing to waist tall. Then—the wolf decided he wanted to be small again. Then big. Then smaller, but not so small people might step on him. But then a local’s dire-beast sniffed Leo predatorily as they passed, which meant Leo just had to grow to his real size and intimidate the creature.

“Alright, alrighty, bud,” Luka pleaded, a headache forming. “Pick a size and stick with it, please. I’m not made of mana.” Well, he might have been. Goddess Tippy built him a new body, after all. Leo licked him on the face, then shrank to the size of a Pomeranian.

“Is that everything we needed in the city?” Franky asked, smirking at the dynamic of rider and mount.

They passed an intersection, the beast district of the city a few streets behind them. Luka glanced down the crossroads, finding spraying fountains and manicured trees and bushes. It was crowded in that direction, dire-beasts and people alike pushed their way through the traffic in a similar manner to the market stalls.

“What’s down there?” Luka asked.

“Divine district. All Sneerhome’s churches are located on that singular block.” Franky slowly rubbed Sebby’s fur. “Want to check it out?”

A sparkling butterfly flew past Luka, catching his eye. “Does Goddess Tippy have a church here?”

“Of course.” The orc hesitated. “Why?”

“Because I think she wants to speak to me.” Luka started down the road, mini-Leo dancing around his steps.

Franky followed as well, but slowly.

Religion, back on Earth, meant little to Luka. As a kid, he remembered wearing boxy clothing to church, but after his teenage years—nothing. Between busy parents and girlfriends and school, religion just fell away. Especially after college and the deep questions his professors demanded of him. What was life? What was sin?

However, here was different. Here, in this world, he still didn’t know the names of gods who were real. They were tangible. They helped people; they blessed races. They showed their faces, proud of the world they’d created.

Luka followed the butterfly into Goddess Tippy’s church, little Leo right beside him. A feeling nagged at him: familiarity. The Goddess’ presence was throughout her holy home, her essence seeped into the marble floor and cream walls. Priests and priestesses walked around the main hallway, guiding their flock to side rooms and/or in prayer. A man in robes the color of snow nodded to Luka, gesturing to a large set of double doors at the end of the hall.

“I’ll wait here!” Franky called from the entrance.

Luka turned long enough to wave to his friend, but the sound of opening doors kept his attention. The double doors swung open, leading to a black landscape with speckles of light. The butterfly flew in, and Luka and Leo followed. The doors closed behind them.

They were in space, standing on magic just like Luka’s first moments of his new life. Below, the world slowly spun, greens and blues masked by fluffy clouds and rolling rains. They were in the realm of the gods, Tippy’s domain, watching the lives of everyone—of everything.

As Luka stood there breathing, the air in his lungs grew heavy. Fluttering thoughts accosted his mind, memories splintered like broken glass. As he watched this world, his world came to mind. Earth—his life, his sins.

What was life? He had been reborn; a goddess took care of that for him.

What was sin? He didn’t know. His were hidden from him.

The reason for this meeting became ever more apparent to him at that moment. He was here because of his shrouded past.

“You want to remember your previous life,” Goddess Tippy said, appearing beside him and Leo. “Despite my attempts.”

Leo barked at her, but a summoned hunk of meat quelled his outrage. The wolf graciously accepted the Goddess’ bribe, plopping down on his belly to eat. Tippy chuckled softly at the sight.

Luka studied the goddess. She was light. She was life. She basked in golden rays and radiated magical excellence. She stood akin to a giant, although her size was hardly taller than Luka, and yet, she didn’t flaunt her power. She could easily dominate him and force him to do her bidding, but she didn’t. Instead, she fed his wolf and blessed his creations.

“I don’t.” The two words didn’t shock Luka. With as much as he remembered about his previous life, he knew there were bad, bad things he’d done. Bombs, jet fighters, death. Sadly, those were just the tip of the iceberg. He didn’t want to remember—not when he caused it all.

It was hard to admit, but Luka knew—he was a harbinger of destruction on Earth. An engineer of death, a person befitting of hell a million times over. He killed innocents—or his creations did—and he was paid to do it.

Luka whispered, “But I think I have to.”

He knew he had to remember. Not for himself but the people around him. They deserved to know what kind of person he actually was.

“So be it.” Three words from the Goddess. Three words was all it took for Luka to remember.

And as his memories came flooding in, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“Take as long as you need, Luka. Time is infinite here,” Tippy said as he crumbled to the magical ground, tears pouring down his face.

Leo abandoned the hunk of meat and snuggled into his rider’s arms. Luka squeezed him gently.