The city she was in bustled with life. Stone houses framed busy city streets, which were filled with a plethora of merchants. Some sold items from wooden stands, while others sold them directly from their wagons. Different smells penetrated her nose. The warm and pungent smell of various spices. The savory, smoky smell of cooked meats. A gentle yet noticeable smell of produce. Looking around at the medieval-esque landscape, it almost surprised her that the city did not smell bad. It meant this world had a sewer system, at the least.

Her stomach churned. On any other day, the sight would have amazed her, and the smells of food would have been captivating, but today was not that day.

Aurora emptied the contents of her stomach onto the dirt road. Food poisoning had already set in. She wiped her mouth with a dirty sleeve and gagged again. This body smelled; she would have to do something about that later. Not only had she spent the last few hours belching, but she had also gotten lost. The small but important part of Clemintie's memory, which was directional memory, did not transfer to her. Maybe Clementine, much like Aurora, was also directionally challenged.

Cleanliness was important, but she had more important things to figure out. Aurora needed water if she did not want to die. Dehydration was a huge issue when it came to food poisoning. For a moment, she longed for some ginger ale. After finding water, she had to test the extent of the blue screens. For now, all she knew was that she could talk to herself.

“Right,” she mumbled. Getting up, she dusted off her dress and picked a random direction to wander in. She made her way through crowds, earning a few glances. Some seemed to take pity on her, while others looked down at her with disgust, just as the merchant had earlier. It was almost comforting knowing that people were the same everywhere. Even back on Earth, people had stared at her like that when she was homeless. She had made it out alive because of the few who had taken pity on her.

After getting the most important issues out of the way, Aurora would have to figure out how she was supposed to survive as a child in this new world. Aurora was a twenty-five-year-old woman, but Clementine was only fourteen. She also did not know anything about the world she was in. The planet she was on was called Artha. The people around her spoke in a different language, but she could understand them. When she talked to herself, it seemed almost natural, as if she had been speaking this language all her life. That was the extent of her knowledge. From her understanding, Clementine did not have any skills she could use to make money. Having been abandoned at a young age, the girl was a step away from becoming feral. The skill set Aurora possessed was also limited; life in the 21st century had erased the need for many skills that could be useful here.

After wandering for a while, she stumbled on a fountain filled with clean-looking water. It was the first time she could see herself in this body. In the reflection, an unfamiliar face looked back at her, and she wondered if she would ever get used to this. A young girl looked at her. She had white hair—a color she had never naturally seen before—and grey eyes. She was skinny and dirty. It was clear that Clementine had lived a life of hunger. Her hair was matted. What was more clear was that no one had every taught Clementine how to take care of herself.

Aurora knew that drinking unfiltered water had significant risks, but it was a risk she was willing to take now. She dipped her hands into the water and took a gulp. A new hunger awakened in her for the water, and she repeated this process multiple times. After she felt hydrated, the nausea subsided a bit. She washed her face, rinsing away the dirt. Clementine was a beautiful young girl whose beauty had been hidden by years of survival. She pawed at the knots in her hair. It seemed like it was beyond saving. Aurora sighed another issue for another time.

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Now, it was time to test the screens. If Aurora was to make the most of her life, she needed to understand her capabilities. She walked up to a random man and tugged him on the sleeve.

“What do you want, kid?” the man spat. Instinctively, she stepped back. A habit she had picked up from her own life. Aurora hated yelling, shouting, and aggression. Her own childhood traumas had followed her here; being reborn did not erase them. After her mother had died, her father had succumbed to alcoholism. At first, he was a fun drunk, but after a few years, he had become more and more violent. An automatic fear of loud voices and angry intonations had stayed with her for all her life, even after she had run away at sixteen, even when she died at twenty-five. Childhood traumas were the hardest to work through, but she had been trying. Aurora had even gotten herself a therapist before her death.

She tried to speak, but like last time, something stopped her. A screen popped up.

Respond to stranger?

1. Yes

2. No

Interesting, she thought. It seemed that sometimes she had a choice if she wanted to initiate contact. She picked yes. What dictated if she had a choice or not was beyond her understanding, but she had an inkling of a clue that it was that omnipotent voice.

1. Can you spare some change, please?

2. I’m hungry.

3. Eat a boot pedo.

“Huh,” she mouthed. This time, she had multiple choices, and what was with the last one? Aurora wondered what dictated the choices or how the options were produced. She picked the second option. The man grumbled in response but, after a moment, held out a hand. She opened her palm, and he dropped a few small bronze coins into her hand. Instead of replying, she bowed. A second screen did not appear. It seemed that the screens did not always appear and that she could respond physically.

She looked at the coins in her palm. They brought even more questions. How did the currency in this world work, and how much had she been given? Looking at them, she assumed that it was pocket change. Kinda like how, back on earth, people would give the homeless their pocket change.

Aurora now had more questions than she had started with. She had to find out what would happen if someone else initiated contact, which, looking at her, would be a task harder than she predicted. People generally seemed wary of her. Maybe it was the smell. She also would have liked to check if she could write a response to avoid the screen, but it didn’t seem like she would have access to paper any time soon. Would she even be able to write in thier language? She wondered.

If she could respond physically, then maybe, if they had a type of sign language in this world, she could learn it. She scanned the open square bustling with people in long renaissance-like clothing. No, they probably did not have something like that here. This world seemed like a place that would rather kill and get rid of sick kids.

Fuck, Aurora sighed. This was definitely not what she had expected from rebirth. Hard life? She was practically starting from worse than zero. She made her way to an alley between taverns and sat down. At least it was warm. If she was going to make it here, then she had to keep her hopes up.