Flipping through his stack of semi-completed blueprints, Luka searched for a particular design.

“This one,” he said to Eve as they stood in line for lunch.

She leaned over, plucking the crude drawing from his ink-stained fingers. There were a few people in line for smashburgers, which seemed to be a fan favorite—both with the villagers and park guests. Compared to the nearby line for grilled ribblelit, the Earthen food stall had double the foot traffic.

Clay—the grilling master, along with another villager, worked tirelessly, slinging patties and dressing buns. Luka made a note for extra helpers during the lunch and dinner rush.

Eve hummed as she inspected the drawing. A crude wooden ship connected to a centralized rotational axis via large, metal rods. Multiple arrows pointed the directions, explaining the ride would swing up then fall back down.

“A pendulum swing,” she correctly identified. “That’s what you want to build next? Seems a little…”

“Scary?” Luka inferred. “Maybe—but I think it’s the next logical jump in thrill.”

Eve mulled it over. “If you say so.”

“There are other rides if you don’t like it. But a pirate ship swing is a classic—all parks should have one.”

The line moved forward a person. Grilling, Clay spun on his heel, adding a flare to his cooking as he flipped burgers. The closest few people in line gently clapped at the show.

“Not to mention,” Luka continued, “It has a smaller footprint than the Ferris wheel while also accommodating more guests—by my count, it’ll have nearly six times the ride capacity per hour than the WHEEL.”

Eve shrugged, handing the blueprint back. “Where do you want to put it?”

Scanning the area, Luka eyed the shops and stalls. A hundred or so meters away was the line for the teacups and carousel, and past that were the swings, bathrooms, and the WHEEL. Behind him was the kiddie slide, as well as the lake.

Two hundred-odd people wandered around, shopping or eating, buying all-day passes, or hiding in the shade. Luka couldn’t see near the park’s entrance nor the people waiting in lines, but he roughly guessed another one hundred and fifty guests were within the park, which was far above expectations.

“I think this new ride should be the start of a ‘land.’” Luka said, referring to their previous conversation. “So, I think it needs to be built a bit away from everything else. Of course, as more are built, the distance won’t seem so far—more shops, points of interest, and decorations. Things to look at and be entertained by.”

“By the lake?” Eve asked.

“A waterfront land would be nice…” Luka turned around, looking past the line of hungry guests and at the lake. Directly behind the courthouse were the stone slides and pizza oven. To the right of that was open, unclaimed land as far as he was aware.

“We’d have to make sure with Tram first,” Eve quickly stated.

“Of course.” Luka mentally plotted it all out. “We could have a main street that passes the village and most of the merch shops. From there, one path would lead to the lake, and the other would branch into the forest.”

“Something would need to be put at the end of the main street.”

Luka looked at her. “I told you you were a natural at this.” Her green skin reddened slightly. “The term is ‘weenie.’ It’s a term used to identify ways to draw gues—Why are you laughing?”

With her hand stuck to her face, covering her giggles, Eve forced herself to choke down the bubbles in her belly. “Nothing—nothing, it’s just—” She burst out laughing when she locked eyes with Luka.

Like a contagion, her giggles transferred to the World Walker. And for several moments, the pair laughed all the day’s stress away. Around them, guests looked strangely at them, some recognizing Luka from his opening speech, others wondering who this strange human was since they arrived later in the day.

“Weenie!” Eve finally said, admitting the cause for her laughter. “You said it with such seriousness!”

“Well, yeah. It’s the term,” Luka said, rubbing his wettened eyes. “Don’t ask me why—the man who coined it was an eccentric.”

Eve calmed down. “What does it mean again?”

“It’s the term used to draw guest attention. So, in our case, the attraction or point of interest at the end of main street that’ll pull guests toward it, and thus into the rest of the park.”

“—So that they don’t just stand around the entrance wondering where to go?”

“That, and to ease bottlenecks.”

“Weenie,” Eve said, tasting the word. “We should add sausages to the menu here. What did you call them again? Hottiedogs?”

“Hotdogs, yeah. Selling those alongside smashburgers would surely speed things up…” Luka peered around the line, finding Clay grilling away, dancing as he did so. Luka spotted the problem instantly. “Excuse me a moment.”

He departed Eve and walked around the back of the booth. The booth was nothing special—just a wooden hut with fabric walls and ceiling, giving the place a tent-like shape. A heated wrought iron grill sat along one edge, and a table filled with prepared sliced or diced vegetables beside it. An enchanted lockbox sat near the front, with a glyph access code only the stall operators and Mayor Tram knew.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Clay stood at the grill, flipping burgers while the other villager, Raci, took orders and the customers’ money.

“Hey Clay, how’s it going?” Luka asked, popping his head through the fabric door.

“Good! These smashed burgers are fun to cook! Everyone seems to love them as well!”

“That’s great to hear. You’ve got a pretty long line—”

“I know! Biggest line in the park!”

“Yup, congratulations! You’ve been doing wonderful.” Luka paused. How did he say this without sounding rude? “But I think we need to move the line a bit faster, don’t you think?”

“Couldn’t agree more with you,” Clay practically sang the words. “But the burgers got to cook!”

“True—we don’t want to pre-cook our food. But maybe, at least during the rushes, stagger a half-dozen patties so we can crank you the orders in batches.”

Clay flipped a patty. “We’d have to take more than one order at a time, then.”

“How many burgers do you think you can handle at once?”

“I reckon I can fill the grill, so twelve. Simple stuff, flippin.”

“Raci?” Luka asked, grabbing the villager’s attention. “Start taking a few orders at once. Try to keep ten patties-worth of orders rolling at all times during the rush. Guests can wait a few steps over here to receive orders…”

And although Luka didn’t know it, he had just introduced the fast-food model to this world.

***

They ate lunch on one of the two dozen or so park benches Luka had created. Eve took small bites of her smashburger, savoring the buttery toasted bun. Luka, on the other hand, devoured his in four total bites.

“Hungry much?” Eve asked, shaking her head slowly.

“Too much stuff to do, too little time to sit around eating.”

Eve kept her sarcastic comment to herself. But then again, she thought, he’s always eaten fast. Between grilling and sliding pizzas in and out of the oven, maybe there really wasn’t time to eat…

The thought was sad, and her face must have reflected the notion.

“What’s wrong?” Luka asked, reading her like a book.

Eve glanced away, again shaking her head slowly. He’s building an amusement park practically single-handedly, of course, he’s overworked. Tram’s wiggled her way into his head, manipulating him in that special way only she could.

What better way to get a World Walker to work for you than to harp on his emotions and explain the village would fall into economic peril if you didn’t help?

“Luka…” Eve hesitantly said. “You know you don’t have to be here, right? In Emberwood, I mean.”

“Of course, I do—but I want to be.” He gave her that lax smile, the one he gave everything.

She hated that smile. It felt fake, forced even. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Eve remembered just a few days ago, sitting on the WHEEL while Luka explained his past to her and Franky. She remembered the fear in his eyes—the look of trauma. A trauma that, even with the park’s opening, was still present.

“I don’t—”

Eve spoke over him, “You pause sometimes, did you know that? Like you are lost in deep, deep thought. Franky’s noticed; I’ve noticed. Hell, Tram’s noticed, but she thinks you’re a ticket to—”

Luka held up a hand. “Eve, it’s not like that. Tram’s direct, yes. But she and I want what’s best for everyone in the village. You guys gave me a home when I was lost and afraid.”

Eve didn’t answer right away, so he just continued talking, “And about the pausing—yes, I’ve noticed myself. They are… memories. Everything is back in my head, but not everything is available to me if that makes sense.”

She shook her head gently.

Luka fumbled how to explain, eventually he just started saying stuff. “It’s like a foggy pane of glass or, well, fog. I know my memories are there, but it’s all a haze. Then, whenever someone says something or I think about something related to a memory, the memory presents itself front and center… and I have to relive it. In its entirety. Good or bad.”

“Luka that’s horrible.” Eve said it quietly, her mind wandering for something, anything to properly say. Something profound? Something wise? Her dad would always know what to say when she was feeling down. Gods, I wish he was still here.

“It is, but I’d rather know than not. Tippy said everything was normal for me now and that she couldn’t fix my mind any better. Apparently, getting reincarnated does some weird stuff to people—since, you know, we were dead and all.”

Again, Eve was at a loss for words. “You can always talk to me about it.”

Luka just shrugged. “Thanks.”

“I’m serious. Anytime, anywhere.”

Leaning back, stretching his arms across the back of the bench. He gazed over his little world, spotting things only he, as its creator, would notice.

Eve watched him for a long time, her smashburger suddenly bland. What was he looking for, she wondered. And can I look for the same things?

If the world was on Luka’s back, why couldn’t she take some of the weight? She was his friend and a villager, after all. Everyone in Emberwood should be taking some of the weight—Tram especially.

Eve decided, at that moment, to look out for the opportunistic Mayor. Village prosperity was not worth a candle when it came to Luka’s health.

“Luka,” she quietly said. “I’m worried about you.”

“I know.” He said it too quickly as if he had expected it. Or, maybe he was worried, too.

“Then how about this? One meal a day, you eat slowly with either me or Franky—or both of us. Thirty minutes of relaxation before venturing out into this hellscape.” Eve gestured at the park. “No matter how amazing it might be.”

Luka adopted that same fake smile. “If that would make you worry less, then sure.”

Eve felt her spine go straight. If that would make me worry less? What kind of—

Her internal rant was cut off by an angry bellow. Across the clearing, near the food stalls, a man carrying a sword yelled at one of the villagers operating the ribblelit stall. Both Eve and Luka recognized the villager straight away—one of the elderly orcs.

She went by the nickname “Momma Nan,” because she considered herself the grandmother of all the village orphans. She was old, older than Tram or Ben, and yet, like Tram, could knock down a tree with her bare hands—if her curved back allowed it—and stare down a rampaging bear.

“It’s raw!” the man with the sword on his hip yelled. “Look at how pink it is!”

Eve was on her feet one heartbeat after Luka, her burger abandoned for the worms.