Standing around a picnic table, Luka wasn’t the only one staring at the wooden doll with their eyes open wide. He rubbed his finger over its leg, finding a thin band of miscolored wood that could easily be written off as an oddity within the grain.

“You fixed it!” Eve’s voice came out fluttery. “How’d you do that!?”

Luka held the doll out, giving it gently to its owner. “Here Nicole. Make sure you’re careful with him.”

The little girl made of sticks and leaves snatched it from him with the speed of a lightning bolt, clutching it to her chest. Sappy tears welled in her eyes, but she kept them from falling. Spinning on her heel, she muttered “thanks” and ran off—her friends following close behind, mobbing her with questions.

“Well. I thought I’d seen it all,” Mayor Tram quietly whispered. “I guess what they say about World Walkers is true.”

Frowning, Luka said, “I’m nothing special.”

“Spoken like a true mystic.”

“A what?”

Eve answered after composing herself, “A mystic is the orcish equivalent to a human wizard—someone who’s in tune with magic on a fundamental level, bypassing simple ‘instinct’ when casting spells.”

“Is that a good thing?”

She made a face. Yes, yes of course it was.

“Right…” Luka trailed off, a wet nose bumping him in the back. He turned, only to receive a mighty lick from the brutish almost-adult puppy. “Thanks, bud,” he muttered, whipping a layer of spit away.

A few kids meandered about, stealing glances at the World Walker and giggling to themselves. Tram brushed her hands out like a broom, yelling, “Shoo! Shoo! I’m not going to sit out here if you all aren’t going to play in the lake!”

The kids gasped and rushed to the water.

“Now then,” she said returning focus to the table, “Do you have a place to stay yet? And do you think you can fix a few things around the village, tools and the like?”

“He’s staying with us,” Franky declared. “We’ve got plenty of room at the bar.”

“And,” Eve quickly jumped in, “you know it’s rude to ask magic-users to do unpaid work. Either pay him to fix the tools or have someone run to Sneerhome and get them fixed there.”

She locked eyes with Luka. “Do not let people take advantage of your magic. Even if it’s easy for you. Start with a few complimentary things, and soon the village will ask you to find ore in a dried up mine.”

Anger flashed across Tram’s brow before her age took over and smothered it. “Eve… there’s more to the mine—”

The orc with the birdy tattoos raised a hand, stopping the mayor. “I don’t want to hear it. Just pay him if he helps the village.”

Luka looked between the two women and Franky—who had his mouth pinched tight. History of some sort? Maybe a grudge? He decided to change the subject.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do something like that again.”

Tram took a deep breath, straightening her crooked posture. “Nonsense! Once a mystic, always a mystic!” She turned to Eve. “I think your aunt could help.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea,” Franky muttered.

“Well, when word of Nicole’s doll being fixed spreads through the village, Luka’s magic is going to be in demand. People, of course, will pay for his services. And if they don’t, Emberwood has an annual budget for repairs. The issue, however, will be his lack of experience. Sol’s advice would be welcome, I’m sure.”

Eve grunted. “He doesn’t need her advice when I’m sitting right here.”

Tram raised an eyebrow, slowly shaking her head. “Are you two really that much of cowards? A newborn World Walker showed up in your workplace, and you won’t take him to the person with the most magical knowledge from here all the way to Oak point? Disappointing, really.”

“Newborn?” Luka purposefully asked before the siblings could answer. Whoever their aunt was, he didn’t need to talk to her if they had such reservations about her.

“Newborn, yes. Something wrong?”

“I was rather old back on Earth.”

Waving him off, Tram said, “Reincarnation hardly makes you the same age as before. What would be the point?”

“What’s the point of any of this?” he countered.

Eve cleared her throat. “I don’t think he’s come to terms with this whole ‘World Walker’ thing.”

Franky quickly said, “It has only been an hour.”

Tram slammed her hands onto the table, startling everyone. “Alright, boy-o, listen up! This world is large, loud, and full of good people! Whatever you were in your previous life is gone. You can rebuild it if you want, or you can try something new. That magic of yours is going to open plenty of doors, so take it slow. Stop and smell the emberlilies. Understand?”

Luka said, “That’s practically what the goddess said.”

She slipped her fingers along the pages of her book, furling them like a deck of cards. “Goddess Tippy. Always refer to them by name, there’s more than one and it's best to be respectful.”

“Sorry.” He glanced around for the butterfly.

“No need to apologize. Everything must be confusing and strange. So, now is the time to ask. For the next few minutes, no question is rude, no question is taboo. Anything we discuss won’t be mentioned by anyone here ever again. So, ask away.”

Luka hesitated, eventually asking, “What is Nicole? I saw a few wood-people in the village but I don’t—

Tram raised a hand. “Say no more. The race is called dryad. They live mostly in forests, growing with sunlight and water. Nicole hasn’t even lost her leaves yet, the poor thing.”

“Also,” Franky said, his golden ringed tusks shimmering in the light, “don’t call them wood-people. It’s rude.”

“O-okay? What about orcs? Green and red?”

Giving a single, loud laugh, Tram said, “Correct! Our skin color denotes which original tribe we descended from. No one’s sure which tribe was first, but they battle for the title every century or so. Right now, us greens are the first tribe.”

“Any differences except tribes?”

“Just bragging rights if your tribe is first.”

Luka blinked. “And the other races in the village?”

“Let’s see, we have a lot of orcs, a few dwarves, an elderly gnomish couple, a drake, and some dryads. Once we had an elemental, but she moved away with the mine closing.”

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“No humans?”

“No humans or elves. They like their big cities, them.”

“Any other races?”

Tram made a fluttering noise with her lips. “Too many to name, and too many to remember. Your world have any undead races?”

Luka recoiled. “Just humans…”

“Ah, a shame. Undead make great late-night conversationalists—don’t have to sleep, them.”

Eve jumped in. “Rule of thumb when it comes to races, just treat everyone the same. Anyone around here is mostly similar, it's not until you get out to the demon continents that the typical characteristics stop applying.”

“Except for elementals,” Franky said, “they’re rather strange the first time you see each of the variants.”

Luka massaged his temples.

Tram sighed. “Don’t worry about races. I doubt you’ll be tricked into selling your name to a fey any time soon.”

He looked at her. “What?”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. Any other questions?”

“Nicole said her parents died.”

The temperature around the table seemed to die. “That they did, a shame. All the kids, actually, even Eve and Franky here. Orphans, all of them. The mine collapsed when the ore dried up, taking everyone with it. At the time, it was decided they’d blast through the dead ends to expand the caves.”

“It only brought death,” Franky muttered, turning away and staring at the water.

“That’s horrible,” Luka said darkly.

“Luckily, they have each other and the village. We all look out for them, and each other.”

They watched a small orcish boy leap from the stone cliff, landing in the water with a big splash. His friend jumped in after him, then another, and another.

“They love the water,” Tram said. “It’s a place they can all play together.”

Her words sparked something in Luka. Memories of his father and mother taking him to the local river flooded his mind, especially how they smiled while complaining about all the steps to reach the top of the only slide. And for a parent, no number of steps would get in the way of watching their kid make everlasting memories.

A familiar itch appeared in Luka’s chest—a gentle warmth, like a cozy blanket on a rainy day. An idea sparked in his mind, along with the magic to do it. Orphaned children that loved the lake? Well, why not make them a slide? Why not allow them to create their own everlasting memories?

What would he need? Fiberglass, molding, metal for scaffolding… No, that wasn’t right. He had magic, he had plenty of stone—there was an entire quarry of it—and there was already the topography for a slide. A cliff is as good as any natural scaffolding, right?

Not noticing the conversation went dead, Luka stood from the picnic table, everyone else abruptly doing the same. They watched him silently walk over to the cliff, his eyes locked on the basalt hexagonal columns that surrounded the water.

“Luka?” Eve asked, her words not reaching.

A group of kids held onto a stone ledge, kicking their feet and splashing water like a speedboat. A duo gulped water into their puffy cheeks, spitting jets at each other through their front teeth. A few watched the World Walker cautiously, others skipped stones.

Yeah, Luka decided. I could do it.

“Hey Eve? You think the kids would like a big slide?”

She stepped beside him, the others waiting back a little. “What’s a ‘slide’ in this context?”

Luka squinted at her. “You sit on it, and slide down. You know, a slide.”

“We used to sit on hills after it snowed and slide down, but that was before we moved to Emberwood. Is a ‘slide’ something from your world?”

“Yeah, and big communal swimming areas and plastic tubes that you could float on. People would climb a hundred steps just to slide to the bottom and splash into the pools below.”

“Sounds fun!” Franky yelled from behind.

“It was.” Luka shook his head. “It is. I think the kids would like it. I’m… going to make one.”

Tram asked, “Planning to do some more magic?”

Strands of hair parsed the periphery of his vision, highlighting sections of rock. “Yes,” he answered as the strands helped solidify the plans in his mind.

He’d need to make it safe. Stone was as good as material as any, as long as it was slick. Heavy, sure, but it wouldn’t easily break. But if a kid slipped and hit their head? He grit his teeth—the kids weren’t allowed in the water without an adult present, the same rule would have to apply to the slide. He could build the foundation up, add a little staircase leading to the top? More stone would have to be used, and maybe that was a little ambitious if he was being honest. The drop from the cliff was good enough for now.

“I can work with this,” he muttered to himself.

The blueprint was set in his mind, all he needed to… do… was…

His magical strands burrowed into the stone, digging through them without so much as a second thought. Rock sheared away, layer after layer like a milling machine, chiseling a perfect slope. Dust and bits fell away, avalanching into the water. The kids dove out of the way, giggling about the “World Walker’s attack,” despite Luka making sure no one would be hit.

The kids regrouped in the water, treading to keep afloat. Battle plans were brought up, but quickly discarded as they realized just what he was doing.

Three designs carved into the stone. First, a gentle slope directly from the top of the cliff down. Luka controlled his magic to add some stone dust near the bottom, solidifying it back into solid stone for a gliding slide into the water.

Luka grunted at the sight of recreating stone. No insane heat necessary, no complicated molecular structures. He just wanted it to happen, so it did—just like with Mr. Sticky.

The second design waved up and down like rolling hills, ending with a flared landing that eased the rider into the water. The third dropped at a low angle, ending a meter above the water.

The strands continued to mill away, polishing the stone until it glimmered in the early morning sun.

“And done,” Luka said after a few minutes, finding a group of gawking adult orcs and a mishmash of equally gawking children.

They looked at him. He looked at them. Together, everyone looked at the slides.

“You just—“

“How did—”

“So much for the pretty water line.”

Luka looked at the last speaker—Tram. She was smiling. He smiled himself and said, “I can replace the cliff, that’s no problem.”

“Eh, I’ll get used to it!”

Shrugging, he stepped onto the landing at the top of the three slides. He stomped around, testing for… something, he wasn’t entirely sure what if he was being honest. It seemed solid, it didn’t feel like it was going to break or crack. He’d have to test it—for safety, not because he wanted to…

But first, a problem. “It’s not as slick as I wanted.” He thought back to the water parks of Earth. “We need a stream of water up here, something to wet the rock and push the kids down.”

But how was he going to do that? Pumps? Could he figure out a way to… magic a pump? Seemed unlikely when he thought about electricity and drive shafts. Materials would be easy enough to gather, the issue would be powering and designing it. Steam engine? Water wheel and mechanical actuation?

“What’s wrong, Luka?” Eve asked, kicking her boot and knocking off some black dust.

“I need a way to bring water up here continuously. Maybe we could cultivate some moss? Wet it every time the kids want to slide?”

She looked at him strangely. “Your first thought is waterlogged moss and not magic?”

Luka shrugged. “No magic on Earth, remember?”

She conceded the point, crouching down at the stop of the slides. Removing an odd short quill from her pocket, she scratched the top of the rockwork lightly. Marks etched deep, carving deep with thick, ethereal patterns. She drew squiggles encircled by, well, a circle, and plenty of strange alphabetic lettering. When she finished, she stepped back and the glyph glowed before fading to black.

Against the dark stone, the glyph was hard to see, but it was no doubt there, like a tattoo or an impression in the dirt.

“And done!” Eve said, copying Luka’s own words. “That’s an infinite water glyph.”

At her words, a bubble of water breached the center of the circle, then another, and another. Liquid pooled, touching every edge of the etching before popping and spilling out across the rockwork. More and more water spilled from the glyph, eventually spraying out like a leaky lawn sprinkler. Water fell down the slide, waterfalling down the slope or up and over the wavy drop offs.

“That’s amazing,” Luka said, feeling like his own magic paled in comparison.

Infinite water? That’s something of myth, as far as Earth was concerned. He looked at Eve, wondering just how many hours she spent practicing—

“It’s nothing, just a basic glyph. I learned how to draw it when I was still a toddler.”

Luka blinked.

Behind, Tram scoffed. “He’s amazed by a glyph yet doesn’t bat an eye at his own terraforming magic? What kind of backward planet did you come from?”

Franky gasped. “Mayor! Don’t be rude!”

“Rude? Do you know how miserable my life is going to be now? The children are never going to want to leave this place.” Despite the elderly orc’s words, a large smile never left her face.

Luka slipped off a boot. “Only one thing left to do,” he announced. “Test it.”

After taking off magically softened socks, he pushed himself over the edge, letting gravity take over. He splashed into the water as all the kids cheered, and for the first time since coming to this world, he understood what “creating happiness” meant.