The market buzzed like a kicked beehive. The air reeked of fried meat, sweat, smoke, and hundreds of other people’s stories. I wandered between stalls with no real goal, lazily chewing a hardtack biscuit, until my eyes snagged on something I desperately needed.

  A map.

  A real one—huge, bright, beautifully painted. Mountains, roads, cities… even dragons sketched in the empty corners purely for decoration.

  “Oh,” I mumbled through a mouthful of biscuit. “Coordinates. Perfect.”

  I jabbed a finger at the parchment, then looked at the price tag.

  10 silver.

  “Seriously…?” I looked from the map to the seller. “Are you out of your mind, old man? It’s just paper.”

  The merchant—a skinny, twitchy little guy with a glorious mustache—popped out from behind the counter like an angry hen guarding her nest.

  “Just paper?!” he shrieked. “This is the best map in the whole market! Detailed! Current! Unique! And ten silver is already a discount for you!”

  “A discount for what?” I frowned.

  “For the way you’re dressed!” he snapped, eyeing my jacket. “Never seen a hood like that in my life! And anyway… why are you hiding your eyes? Show your face!”

  I silently lifted the edge of my deep hood.

  Two completely black eyes stared back—no whites, no pupils, just a void. The merchant’s face twisted. He swallowed hard. His lips started shaking.

  “Uh… listen…” he whispered, backing away. “You… um… you can pull the hood back down. I… agree. Hide it. Better. For you… and for me.”

  “So I can get the map cheaper?” I asked hopefully.

  “NO!” He snapped back instantly—greed beat fear. “Same price! Quality! Hand-drawn!”

  I sighed and opened my coin pouch.

  “Fine…” I exhaled theatrically. “Only because I’m a good person.”

  I laid out ten coins, feeling like I was tearing out a piece of my heart. The merchant scooped them up faster than I could blink.

  I unfolded the map and brought it close.

  “So… Capital’s here. Forest around… here. Great. Now I’ll just teleport somewhere… roughly… in this area.”

  “You’ve got to be joking, traveler,” the merchant tried to smile, but it came out wrong. “Teleport by map… without calculations? And that far? Impossible. Nobody does that!”

  “Yeah?” I smirked. “I do.”

  I snapped my fingers.

  POP.

  I materialized—except there was no ground under my feet.

  “A—” was all I managed.

  I was hanging in the air.

  About a kilometer above the forest.

  “I… think… I missed the Z-coordinate,” I yelled to myself as I dropped like a stone. “I mean, I aimed high so I wouldn’t slam into a tree, but not that high!”

  Wind punched my face. My hair whipped so hard it felt like it might tear off with my scalp.

  “ALRIGHT! DON’T PANIC!” I screamed at the clouds. “I’LL FIGURE SOMETHING OUT!”

  I tried to snap again, but the part of my brain in charge of survival decided to look around first.

  Below sprawled the Capital.

  A massive stone ocean—walls the height of mountains, towers stabbing the sky, arched bridges, thousands of glowing windows.

  “Whoa…” I dragged out, briefly forgetting I was falling to my death. “It’s huge…”

  I squinted. At the foot of the Capital sat a cozy little village—chimney smoke, a windmill, a few dozen houses.

  “Wait. That village… wasn’t on the map.”

  Three hundred meters to ground.

  “So he sold me an… OLD map?!” outrage drowned out fear. “You mustached con artist—”

  I snapped again.

  POP.

  This time I appeared in the forest, landing neatly between two pines.

  “Whew.” I dusted myself off. “Better. At least I’m not stuck in the textures.”

  I pulled the map out, looked at it, then at the village visible in the distance.

  “Alright. Either the map is ancient… or the world changes way too fast.”

  “And why does the second option sound more logical?”

  “Fantastic,” I told the parchment. “I paid ten silver for a museum exhibit. Should’ve asked what century it’s from.”

  I rolled up the useless purchase and shoved it behind my belt.

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  Up ahead—about a mile and a half away—the village-prize was just existing.

  “Okay,” I started thinking out loud. “First: разведка. Recon. If the people are normal—I’ll learn the year, the era, who’s ruling. If they’re not normal… I’ll leave. Or teleport.”

  I snapped my fingers.

  Nothing.

  “Just kidding,” I explained to a squirrel in a tree. “Saving mana.”

  I stepped onto a packed dirt path. As I walked, I kept wondering why the Capital pulled at me so hard. My head was empty, but something inside kept scratching.

  A call.

  Like I’d left an iron on. Or forgotten someone important.

  “Awesome memory. I know it matters—I just don’t know what.”

  At the village entrance stood a crooked sign:

  “WINDHOLL VILLAGE. Population: 112. Please do not feed the local children.”

  “Huh.” I snorted. “Interesting request. Do they bite?”

  I took one more step and froze.

  Movement. A shadow flickered to the left—too smooth for a peasant. A young woman stepped onto the road in a white blouse and apron, a basket of apples in her arms. She beamed.

  “Welcome to Windholl, traveler! It’s market day. Looking for rest or food?”

  I nodded politely and lifted my hood a fraction.

  “I need… information.”

  She stopped. She saw my eyes. Her smile twitched—but she held the friendly mask. Smart. Or used to freaks.

  “I’ll be quick,” I told her. “Why isn’t your village on the map?”

  She blinked, pausing like an NPC loading dialogue.

  “Oh, that’s a long story!” she laughed. “The village is new. Built… oh, about three years ago.”

  “Three years?” I raised an eyebrow. On a map like that, three years was a lifetime.

  “Got it. Thanks.”

  She nodded and hurried off.

  I watched her go.

  “Three years. Not marked. Built right under the Capital.”

  “And for some reason this place feels… familiar.”

  The emptiness in my chest clenched painfully. Past stuff again.

  “Fine. Plan: question locals, then head for the Capital. And then I go back to that merchant and squeeze my money out of him. Or at least an apple. Yeah. An apple works.”

  I was walking down Windholl’s main street when I saw that same girl again. This time she carried a basket of bread; sunlight lit her hair like gold.

  “Perfect moment for social interaction,” I thought.

  I sped up, matched her pace, and put on my best seasoned-heartbreaker act.

  “Nice weather, huh?”

  “Mhm,” she grunted without slowing.

  I flashed what I thought was a charming smile.

  “And you’re probably the prettiest girl in this village, yeah?”

  She stopped sharply. Turned. Looked at me like I hadn’t complimented her—I’d spit in her basket.

  “You…” she said with raw disgust. “Peasant.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “As in get away from me!” She recoiled like I was diseased. “Where did some arrogant freak like you even crawl out from?!”

  She spun and walked off without looking back.

  I stood in the road like I’d been smacked with a sack of flour.

  “…Freak?” I repeated to the empty air.

  I raised a hand and touched my face. Nose still there. Ears too.

  “Alright—hood, ‘explosion at a pasta factory’ hair, black eyes… but freak is a bit much.”

  “I thought I was… I don’t know… attractive? Or at least mysterious? Brutal, worst case?”

  An old man passing by glanced at me, crossed himself in fear, and sped up.

  “Damn…” I slumped. “I’ll have to test that later. On someone who won’t scream.”

  I tugged my hood down, sighed, and kept walking, muttering under my breath.

  “Arrogant freak… seriously?.. I was even polite… Bastards.”

  The Capital was even more colossal up close than it had looked from the sky. Massive stone gates, decorated with the kingdom’s golden crest, crushed you with their presence. Two dozen guards in shining armor stood motionless like living statues.

  I walked up like I owned the place.

  “Hey, kid!” one called, lazily leaning on his halberd. “Get over here.”

  I approached.

  “You… what’s with the look? Hood pulled down to your nose… You planning something?”

  “No,” I said honestly. “Are you?”

  “What?” he frowned.

  “I mean, you stand here all day in iron like useless dolls. Your legs have to be falling off. You probably piss right into the armor.”

  Silence.

  Somewhere a crow cawed. Every guard slowly turned their helmeted heads toward me with a metallic grind.

  “WHAT. DID. YOU. SAY?” they growled in chorus.

  “Uh…” I scratched my head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt your delicate feelings. I’m just worried about hygiene.”

  “You freak!” the first guard went purple and stepped in. The second reached for a sword. A third lifted a fist to grab me by the collar.

  I yawned.

  Snap.

  POP.

  The guard’s hand closed on air.

  I reappeared in a dark alley two districts away.

  “Whew.” I dusted my shoulder—off imaginary dust. “Alright. I’m inside. Now what?”

  I stepped onto a main street. The city hummed like a giant machine—vendors shouting, carts rattling, fresh bread and horse manure in the air. Pretty. Loud. Tense.

  Then the crowd began to part, pressing to the walls. A luxurious white carriage inlaid with silver glided down the road. Around it marched elite knights in perfect rhythm. People bowed.

  I didn’t really get the whole ritual and just kept walking—until an armored gauntlet shoved my shoulder hard.

  “Hey!” I snapped, catching myself. “What the hell?! I’m walking here! There isn’t even a sidewalk!”

  The knight spun, towering over me like a steel cliff.

  “You want to die, filth? The Princess is passing. On your knees!”

  The carriage stopped. The door with the crest opened, and a delicate boot touched the street.

  A girl stepped out—straight posture, perfect poise. Her hair was the color of steel, gray like metal. She lifted her gaze.

  Her eyes were red.

  Not normal red—bright, almost glowing scarlet under her hat’s shadow.

  I whistled without meaning to.

  “Damn. I thought my eyes were weird… turns out there are weirder. Listen, your face is twisted like you had a stroke. Honestly. You should see a healer.”

  The knight beside her nearly collapsed from shock, yanking out his sword.

  “I’ll cut your filthy tongue out, you—”

  “Stop.” The Princess’s voice was quiet, but cold as ice.

  The knights froze.

  She tilted her head slightly, studying me like an entomologist who’d found a rare bug.

  “This boy… is interesting. Put him in my carriage. I want to speak with him.”

  “WHAT?!” The knights nearly choked. “Your Highness, he’s—”

  “Now.”

  Two guards grabbed me under the arms and dragged me toward the carriage.

  “Hey!” I protested, kicking my legs. “Hands off! And is there food in there? If I’m visiting—”

  They shoved me inside.

  The carriage was basically a boudoir—velvet seats, a fluffy carpet, expensive perfume…

  And, most importantly, a vase of candy on a little table.

  A lot of candy.

  The Princess sat gracefully opposite me.

  I immediately reached for the vase.

  “Mmm. Caramel,” I mumbled, popping one into my mouth and shoveling a handful into my pocket.

  She watched me loot her candy in silence.

  “And you… why are you hiding your eyes?” she asked at last.

  “Just tired of explaining,” I answered around a mouthful, calmly transferring sweets into my bottomless kangaroo pocket.

  She leaned closer, fearless, peering under my hood. Her red eyes met my darkness. Her pupils widened.

  “Your eyes… darker than night itself. You aren’t… possessed by demons, are you?”

  “Don’t think so,” I shrugged, taking another candy. “Just didn’t sleep.”

  The carriage rolled forward. I felt us gaining speed, heading deeper into the city—too fast, too purposeful.

  My instincts said: this smells like trouble.

  “Hey,” I asked. “Where are we going?”

  “To the castle, of course,” she said calmly, adjusting her glove. “My guests usually go there. There are dungeons… and there are parlors. Depends how they behave.”

  I exhaled.

  “Right. Trap. Time to leave.”

  I stood up, nearly cracking my head on the carriage ceiling. The Princess lifted an eyebrow.

  “Wait. You can’t just—at least tell me your name before—”

  I raised a finger to cut her off.

  “Nice try, red-eyes. But I’m not that stupid. Names are power and all that. Bye.”

  Snap.

  POP.

  A second later I was sitting on a tiled roof of some tall building, chewing stolen royal toffee. Down below, far away, guards swarmed the stopped carriage.

  “People here are weird,” I said philosophically, unwrapping the next sweet. “Drag you straight to the castle, scare you with ‘stroke face’… whatever.”

  I stood up on the rooftop, looking out over the Capital.

  “At least the candy’s good.”

  “Now I just need to figure out what I’m doing before they put a bounty on me.”