A white dire-wolf the size of a large chihuahua squared off against a dire-emu the size of a small tree—a showdown for the ages. A cold spring wind blew in from the west, whisking away the early morning fog. Around, a crowd of people waiting to enter Emberwood Village watched on, their hearts heavy—it would be a battle to the death.
The wolf lowered his front paws, stalking low. Slowly he circled the emu, lightly growling. Conversely, the emu stood stock still, her head twisted sideways, a single eye following the mutt. The growing crowd didn’t know it, but the emu’s heart beat at a speed far exceeding normal. Olive was a dumb bird, and recognized her pal, Leo. And yet, the wolf was small. How could this be? What trickery were the riders playing with?
Leo barked once before sprinting as fast as his stubby legs could go. He ran straight at Olive, the bird’s slow reflexes allowing him to reach nearly half-way before she reacted. Olive did the only thing she knew of to do in this situation—she ran.
The little chihuahua wolf yipped after her, chasing her in a wide circle around the crowd. Some of the onlookers cheered him on, others cried for Olive. Either way, Leo, with his tongue out and flopping, smiled—he was having fun.
It didn’t take long for the dire-wolf to corner the dire-emu. Wolves were smart, birds, not so much. Leo slowed his ascent, the bumbling Olive looking for ways out. Slowly, he closed the distance, stalking right up to her towering form. Then—with the deviousness of an imp—Leo gave her legs a wet lick.
Olive’s trembling stopped. She looked down, finding her beasty pal. Oh, the single thought glazed her tiny mind, friend. She craned her head, lowering it to the ground. Leo looked into her eyes, and she looked back. Leo then barked in tandem with a short little hop—he wanted to play.
Chase me, he practically said.
So, Olive did. With a single, wagon wheel sized foot and claw, she tried to stomp the poor adult-puppy. Leo yelped, missed me! She tried again, and again the wolf was too quick. Again and again, she tried, growing more frustrated, especially when Leo added sarcastic licks.
Leo barked and yipped, smiling like a sunrise. Olive, likewise, smiled, but more like a toddler with a new toy.
Maybe a tiny pal isn’t so bad, thank you riders, she thought, albeit more conceptually than actual proper thought.
Nearby, a few in the crowd clapped at the show.
***
Luka was one of the people clapping. He stood in line with tourists and travelers, speaking to them as if he wasn’t the architect of the newly minted “World Walker Park.” They, of course, didn’t know who he was, by design. That would change in the next few minutes, but for now, Luka wanted to hear what people were saying.
“Any idea what they’ve got back there?” a middle-aged man who introduced himself as Henry asked. “One of my mates said she rode a wooden wolf here a few days ago.”
Someone else snorted dryly. “A wooden wolf? What kind of nonsense is that?”
Henry pointed to the Ferris wheel. “She said it was like that big wheel, but flat.”
Luka raised an eyebrow at the description. He supposed it was accurate. The conversation quickly devolved into name calling—apparently others thought Henry’s description was bad as well. Moving on, Luka listened in on a conversation about him.
“I heard a new World Walker was born,” a person said. She was decked out in laborer clothing, dirty overalls with a bandana tied around her shoulder and a thin utility belt strung around her waist.
“Who told you that?!” another demanded.
The woman waved her hand, showing off a shiny ring. “My husband—he’s got a friend in the church district. Apparently, the clergy around Goddess Tippy’s church have been talk—”
“Your husband’s friend says there’s a new World Walker? How could that information be wrong!”
Luka tuned out of the conversation, finding another—this time from a gaggle of kids.
“I heard there’s a lava pool back there. That big wheel dips people into the heat like a torturer’s chambers,” one of the bigger kids said, his voice low and slow like telling a campfire story.
“No—no way,” another quickly said. “My mother wouldn’t allow me to come—”
“Always do what mama says, eh?” laughed another older one. “I’m going to go see that lava and my mom won’t be the wiser.”
“I just hope there’s food,” another said. “I had to leave home before my da made breakfast.”
“Sneak out, eh? Naughty boy.”
Chuckling softly, Luka strolled forward. He passed people of all sorts, some human, others not so much. Dwarves were among the most prevalent, along with orcs. A few races he hadn’t seen before, such as a family of feathered lithe people with bone piercings through their noses and ears.
To Luka’s surprise, there were two distinctly separate groups of gnomes. The first, recognized by their spiky mohawks, tossed broken gears and dice on the grass, gambling. The second wore welding goggles and leather gloves and carried around small electro-magical mechanical creations.
The issue, and why Luka quickly diverted from their presence, had to do with Tram’s warning. Apparently, gnomes were not the “touristy” type, and instead were most likely present to steal the inner workings of the Ferris wheel—and whatever else they could analyze.
Intellectual property theft was, apparently, a big deal here, and one of the reasons the Guilds clamped down on the selling of magical spells and glyphs. There was money to be made everywhere, when it came to magical “things,” and anything not tied down, was surely likely to be taken. And unfortunately for gnomes, the stigma had stuck to them like flies on dire-wolf dung—even though all races were just as likely to steal.
Luka continued on. Nearest the gate was a family. They looked like humans, but as he studied them, they also didn’t? He wasn’t sure—only that the family had iridescent scales along the back of their necks and down their backs. But that wasn’t what caught his attention.
“Hello,” Luka said, stepping before the group. At once they looked at him, their eyes flickering from normal iris to slitted—like a lizard—then back.
“Can we help you, friend?” one asked, an older gentleman. His voice was slippery and stretched, especially around the ‘S’s.
“Well met,” he said, copying a common greeting he’d learned over the last few days. “My name is Luka, and I work here in Emberwood.”
“What can we do for you, Luka of Emberwood?”
Luka turned to the member of the family that had caught his attention—an elderly man in a crude wheelchair. The man was missing a leg, which, as Luka understood, was somewhat uncommon. Healing magic was a thing here, as well as free clinics hosted by the divine churches. The man’s leg could easily be regrown.
“Just wondering, Sir, if you are interested in riding the WHEEL today.” Luka gestured at the Ferris wheel.
Over the last few days, Eve and Franky had made sure to spread the rumors of the WHEEL and how it operated. Drunk patrons at Todd’s Bar were saps for an interesting story, and branding the attraction as thrilling had been easy enough for the sibling duo. By this point, everyone waiting in line to enter Emberwood surely knew what the Ferris wheel did.
“I am,” said the elder, his chest puffed out a bit.
“I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think your chair will fit in the bungalows.”
The man shifted his jaw a few times, a slight clicking noise echoing from his throat. “Fine. I can hobble—my sons will be my support.”
Luka nodded happily. “Very good—and I am sorry about not designing an accommodating attraction. I’ll add fixing this to my list of needed upkeep and changes. In the meantime,” he pulled a few slips of paper from his pocket. They were precut squares no larger than a skipping stone, and each sported a picture of a mug and signed by Mayor Tram. “These are drink vouchers. Just show them to any of the park’s booths or stalls, and you’ll receive a free drink of your choosing.”
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One of the sons raised an eyebrow. “Even mead?”
“Mead, beer, wine, whatever we’ve got for sale.” Luka held out his hand—the old man didn’t take the vouchers. “Something wrong?”
“You say you designed this… attraction?” the man asked, gesturing at the spinning ride.
“I did, yes.”
“You’re the World Walker.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact spoken in a muted hush for only the immediate conversationalist to hear.
Luka thought about his answer before speaking. In the end, the cat would be out of the bag today one way or another. “I am.”
When the family stared wide-eyed at him, Luka apologized about the inconvenience again, handed off the voucher, and moved on. It was time to open the park.
At the gate, Luka inspected the welcome sign and closed fencing. It was bland, uninspired, and frankly an eyesore. All of it would have to be redesigned—he made another mental note.
Lava huh? he thought, thinking of the kids. If “lava” was what the youngsters of this world thought of as imaginative, molten rock had to be part of World Walker Park in some form or another. When magic makes the world go round, simple decorations just won’t cut it, huh? He made another mental note.
Mayor Tram and Judge Ben were standing beside Franky and Eve on the other side of the gate. And, at Luka’s appearance, they began.
Tram held an enchanted stick to her throat. Designed by Aunt Sol, the “stick” was literally a stick from her front yard. But to anyone with an eye for magic, the stick was absolutely brimming with glyphs and spell matrices. The design went over Luka’s head in terms of magical involvement, but hey, results were results. The stick worked stunningly.
“Welcome—” Tram’s voice silenced all conversation. Around the crowd and gate, coming from the grass, her voice resonated, allowing all to hear.
Luka eyed the tens of thousands of blades of grass—each one working in tandem with the magical stick as linked speakers and microphone. How Aunt Sol possibly enchanted the grass, no one knew, not even Eve.
The crowd locked on to Tram instantly. She stood on a riser step, something akin to a podium on a stage, waving. She cleared her throat, keeping the stick close.
“My name is Mayor Tram of Emberwood Village, and I welcome you to our newly refurbished home. Now, the gates will open in a matter of minutes—” there was clapping, “—but I wish to defer to the creator of this… park.”
This was… not part of the plan. Luka went white as a sheet—he didn’t have a speech prepared. Tram was clapping, the magical stick pinned between her thumb and palm. Each clap echoed softly across the tens of thousands of grass blades. Boom, boom, boom.
A memory surfaced—one no longer hidden by Goddess Tippy.
There was death. The bombs had fallen, the tanks had rolled, the infantry sorted through the destruction, and the fat cats who oversaw the operation sat in tents far from the action. He was in the tents as well, receiving pats on the back and hearing whispers of commendation medals for his outstanding work.
Luka remembered this day clearly—opening day for his creations on Earth. The day the war started.
And now, today, here on this world he still didn’t know the name of, was another opening day. Luka couldn’t move his feet. Tram’s amplified clapping echoed like exploding bombs, the growing crowd staring at him like the generals in the tents. His heart rate spiked; his brain throbbed.
What am I doing here? he asked himself, a question he didn’t think of back on Earth until it was too late.
Tram’s clapping slowed and he watched, in agonizing slow motion, her bright smile falter. Beside her, Eve and Franky—the two people he knew best in this world—also realized something was wrong. Eve pushed open the gate and grabbed him as Franky blocked a few overzealous guests from entering.
Eve had Luka’s hands in hers—so warm, so full of life, compared to his clammy and cold ones. She whispered something, the sound drowned away by the gasping crowd.
What are they gasping at? he wondered, Me?
A giant wet nose nudged him from the back. Luka turned, finding a full-sized Leo. The wolf licked him in the face—and the bombs stopped.
Luka blinked widely, the moment finally catching up. Behind, the crowd clapped, the little white wolf they watched dart around the giant emu’s feet was now a giant himself! They were gasping at Leo changing in size.
“You okay?” Tram whispered, leaning in.
Luka swallowed. He was here, he was now. Today was opening day, but not for war and death. He reminded himself of his recent time in Goddess Tippy’s domain. He wasn’t the same man anymore from Earth. He’d been reborn, he’d been put here to create happiness.
Gently taking the microphone stick from Tram, Luka stepped up on the podium. With a quick peek at a paper stuffed in his pocket, he turned his attention to the crowd as strands of magic rolled beneath his feet. In just a moment, several glyphs were etched into the podium and surrounding area.
Fog rolled in.
The glyph was simple—and Luka sure was glad he got it right the first time. Around the crowd, pebbles started spewing in the opaque air, rising just high enough to mask everyone’s feet—or in the case of the gnomes, their waists.
Happiness, Luka reminded himself, and a bit of mystique.
“Ladies and gentlemen, mystics and mages, adventurers and explorers, welcome to our humble slice of the extraordinary—World Walker Park!”
The crowd was dead silent, the rumors were true! The man speaking before them was a World Walker in the flesh!
“Today,” Luka continued, speaking directly into the stick, “isn’t just the beginning of something new, but it is the day ‘new’ is redefined. I stand before you today as a man who’s seen the best two worlds can offer. My home, Earth, and this one. And yet, they bore me.”
He let the words sink in, especially the white lie. He had not seen the best of either world—though he did think Emberwood was at least in the top ten. The fog continued to roll in, and the blades of grass continued to resonate with his words.
But a murmur ripped through the crowd. What did he mean the worlds “bore” him? The question sparked some outrage, even. A few heckles came from the back, closest to Todd’s bar.
Luka then said, “Yes, ‘bore,’ you heard that right. Can you believe it? Me, a World Walker, is bored. On this world, there is a lack of proper, thrilling entertainment. On Earth, there’s a lack of magic—a lack of mystique.”
What had Eve and Franky said his first day here? World Walkers were mysterious eccentric figures, who’d done amazing things in their previous lives—such amazing things that the gods of this world plucked them from the void and reincarnated them.
While Luka didn’t think his previous life was worth the praise, he understood what the people of this world already thought he was. He was a World Walker, and he had to act like it to draw visitors.
No one wants to meet a dull World Walker, he told himself as the crowd’s outrage grew. Before anyone could yell something obscene, Luka continued his speech.
“So, listen now and listen well! Today marks the day ‘new’ is redefined. My world plus yours, the best both have to offer, are going to be here—at World Walker Park.”
The crowd digested the statement, until someone yelled, “What’s back there!”
Luka tried to find the voice but gave up quickly. Instead, he chose to answer.
“What’s back here?” he echoed. “Why? Are you interested?” He chuckled softly to himself, the grass blades doing the same. “Behind me is the start of a new world. It’s still in its fledgling state, but it’s magical. Some have said that the area behind me houses two of the most thrilling things they’ve ever experienced. Others, well, you’ll just have to wait and see.”
Murmurs went through the crowd again—they weren’t fully convinced.
“Let me be frank,” Luka said, tapping the side of his head. “This—everything beyond these gates—is just the beginning. Goddess Tippy put me on a path to bring happiness to this world. In my previous life, I was the opposite. I hurt people. And—I will never forgive myself.”
He took a deep breath. “So, here and now, I promise the people of this world that my creations will only bring happiness. The miniature world I create beyond these gates will be nothing but the best I have to offer. And if I ever break this vow, I ask the gods to smite me down and call me a liar—”
His words triggered something in the air. In the blink of an eye, the fog tripled and the sun waned out. A ripple, a dash of divine honesty and essence appeared. It came with a howl, muting the crowd’s gasps and yelps. The sky grew dark, yet the world only warmed. Bliss roused across the land, touching hearts and mending faults.
Luka recognized the feeling instantly—Goddess Tippy was here. The crowd knew it too.
Light, flowers, and butterflies heralded her presence, and soon enough She appeared from the ripple in the air. Tippy looked over the crowd, momentarily locking eyes with the one-legged lizard man. She could regrow his limb instantly, if she wanted, just like in her countless churches. And yet, she didn’t. The man didn’t want her to, and who was she to ignore the will of her people?
A god who did as they pleased was no God.
Goddess Tippy then locked eyes with Luka. She raised a single hand, silencing everything. “World Walker Luka. I hear your request and agree. If you ever create something intended to harm, I will smite you down personally.”
Luka gravely nodded.
“But!” Tippy yelled. “Accidents will happen, especially with something as unique as your creations. These will be no fault of your own, but I can empathize with the pain you might feel for such an event. That is why, I, Goddess Tippy, shall bless these lands and World Walker Luka’s creations.”
From her raised hand, a waterfall of light spewed, splashing into the foggy ground. Divinity sprouted from the liquid, quickly growing into massive golden trees. In seconds, the trees parted with their leaves, the wind spreading them far and wide. Holiness gleamed from the highway and Todd’s bar to the opposite end of the lake and all the surrounding land.
The leaves set into the ground, fertilizing it. Soon thousands of golden trees littered the forested landscape, growing amongst the emberwoods as if they’d always been there.
Blinded by the goddess’ magic, the crowd gawked like simpletons or children. Prayer lifted from their thoughts directly into the air, turning the area thick. Some sung hymns, others fell to their knees, a few—like the one-legged man—carefully studied the showing before them. Either way, divinity had turned these lands—and the fallout would be nothing short of legend.
Before returning to the heavens, Tippy said one final thing, “I declare World Walker Park now open!”
She disappeared, only her golden trees left as evidence.
And finally, the gates opened.