—— ? ——

  “Alright, so let me get this straight. You and everyone else in town got here about a month ago? Everyone finished what I just did within the first twenty-four hours and has been adapting to this crazy, messed up situation?”

  Simon asked, still standing in the large chamber of the System hub.

  Brinn looked confused, concerned, and overwhelmed.

  “Well… yeah? I still don’t understand. You’re a genuine level zero. What have you been doing for the last month? Did you not do any of the welcome quests? How have you even been living?”

  He paused his barrage of questions, took a breath, and stared.

  “You’re actually crazy. Have you just been lost out there?”

  Simon was trying to digest everything the guard was spilling.

  What the hell is going on?

  Laughter boomed out in the chamber, causing both men to jump.

  A short hooded man stepped from the shadows, leaning against the chamber wall like he'd always been there. He was dressed in dark, travel-worn clothing, and strapped to his waist were two curved daggers, their blades glowing with a cold, menacing blue light.

  “Well, shit,” the figure chuckled, pushing off the wall and striding closer. “You’re just some unlucky arsehole, huh? Here I thought you were a peak-scaler or maybe a silent-type prodigy. But no. Just some poor sod who never touched the damn hub.”

  Brinn straightened instantly, eyes wide. “Sir!”

  “Oh, Brinn. Relax. You know I don’t care about all that.”

  The figure waved a hand dismissively as he pulled back his hood.

  Yoreboon.

  He wasn’t imposing by height, barely chest-high on Simon, but every inch of him radiated danger and dense, deliberate movement. Stocky and solid, his broad shoulders and thick neck gave the impression of a man who would break bones by accident and then be annoyed he needed to clean up the mess.

  His face was deeply lined but lively, with dark eyes that danced with sharp humor and calculation. A faint scar cut through his brow and disappeared into dark graying hair covering his temples.

  Earth-born residents compared Yoreboon to story derived dwarves or gnomes, but the comparison always fell short. The Yoreboon scoffed at the comparison, rightfully so. They were built like bricks but moved like predators.

  The Yoreboon man clicked his tongue. “So. Not just unregistered. You’re damn lucky you didn’t die out there, you dumbass.”

  Simon squinted at him. “Can I get our stalker's name?”

  The man grinned. “Not one to cower, eh? Name’s Dravlen. I’m the head of security here in Varnholt. You’ve been making my job a pain in the ass. Not a fan of that, but I’ll admit it’s been more interesting than usual.”

  He looked up thoughtfully. “Would’ve been even more interesting if you’d turned out to be some troublemaker. Brinn wouldn’t have liked it, but I think it could’ve been fun.”

  He grinned wickedly.

  “Wh–what?” Brinn stammered, still flickering between standing at attention and trying to look casual.

  “Well, every good trap needs bait,” Dravlen said with a bark of laughter. “Great job, Brinn. Excellent performance as the unassuming, uninformed guard.”

  “Huh?”

  Oh… he’s been following us for a while, Simon thought, frowning. I never noticed him.

  That’s… concerning.

  “Ah, I see the unfortunate traveler isn’t stupid,” Dravlen said, watching Simon’s expression closely. “So I’ll give you a warning. Don’t make trouble in my town. I don’t like working. It annoys me. And you really don’t want to see me when I’m annoyed. Got it?”

  Simon met the man’s dark dangerous eyes. The humorous expression had slid from his face. Now it held only a threat and a promise.

  Simon nodded.

  The smile and humor returned to Dravlen.

  “Good! Glad we got that out of the way. Alright, let's not keep those councillors waiting. Can you imagine how many complaints I would have to listen to? Bah.”

  Dravlen said, turning and walking over to Brinn, who was still confused.

  “Oh right, Brinn! Job well done. Take the day off. I will take care of our lost friend here.”

  With a pat on the back, he turned and started walking towards a hallway.

  Simon exchanged glances with the confused young man, then shrugged.

  “Well, thanks for the tour,” He said as he hurried to catch up to his new guide.

  Brinn watched them leave and then exclaimed.

  “... Bait?!”

  —— ? ——

  Simon and Dravlen emerged from the fantastical fractal building, its impossible angles and recursive geometry still pulling at the corners of Simon’s perception.

  “Yeah, don’t blame you,” Dravlen said, noticing how Simon kept glancing back. “I was glued to that thing my first week, too. Never seen anything like it in all my years. We had to make a rule, actually. Some of the more scholarly types in town started spending way too much time staring at it, trying to make sense of the damn thing.”

  He grunted. “One of ’em got so obsessed, nearly lost his fingers to frostbite. Didn't stop Brian, though. Built something he calls a telescope to keep watching it.”

  Simon’s eyebrow went up.

  “Oh? A telescope?”

  Dravlen’s eyes flicked toward him. “Ah, so you're Earth-born.”

  This made Simon pause.

  So he's just probing me?

  “Well… yeah,” Simon said slowly. “Wait, what do you call the thing Brian made?”

  “A farsight,” Dravlen said, like it was obvious. “What the hell’s a tele? And why would you attach it to a scope?”

  He shook his head.

  “I swear, you Earth-born have the worst names for everything. I’m gonna punch the next one of you, who says ‘gnome’ or ‘dwarf’ to my face.”

  He squinted up at Simon as they walked.

  “Don’t test me.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Simon held his hands up.

  “Hey, I have enough to deal with as is. I don’t need short dark and dangerous to beat my face in”

  Dravlen’s face turned grim as he stared at Simon.

  Oh… that may have…

  Before he could finish the thought, Dravlen let out another of his booming laughs.

  “Well, hell. I may start to like you, kid.”

  But the grin vanished as quickly as it came. His eyes hardened.

  “I’ll level with you,” he said, tone flat. “You’ve got a mouth. That might’ve worked where you came from—”

  Then, in a blur of motion, he was gone from Simon’s side.

  Simon blinked.

  Dravlen was right in front of him, one of those cold blue daggers at his throat.

  “—but here?” Dravlen said softly. “Be careful.”

  Simon’s eyes were wide as he looked at the dagger. He had barely seen the man move. It was like a split second afterimage from staring at a lightbulb.

  He gulped and blinked, afraid to nod.

  In another instant, Dravlen was back walking as if nothing had happened.

  “Like I said, I think I'm going to like you. If just for the simple reason you seem to be the fighter type. Heavens know we need more of us in Varnholt. Whole town is basically just a bunch of crafters, bookworms and drunks.”

  He stopped and looked back, giving Simon a wink. He still hadn’t moved.

  “Oh, come on, lad. I wasn’t going to hurt you. Just wanted to show you how far behind you really are. Not your fault, probably. I’ve got theories.”

  He tapped the side of his head.

  “Being head of security comes with access to some interesting information.”

  Simon opened his mouth to respond, but Dravlen raised a hand to stop him.

  “No. Don’t say anything,” he said. “The council will want to hear it anyways, and I’ll hear it then. I think you might be a decent being. My hunches tend to be right. I just wanted to make sure you knew what you’re dealing with before your mouth gets your head caved in.”

  Simon shook his head, a small grin creeping across his face.

  “I guess if that happens, I won’t be around to see how annoyed it makes you.”

  He matched Dravlen’s posture with mock seriousness.

  “Shame, really. I’d want to see what you do to the head-caver.”

  Dravlen snorted.

  “See? There you go again. I might just start rooting for you.”

  He turned, beckoning.

  “Come on then. Let’s pick up the pace and go find out what the council wants to do with you.”

  —— ? ——

  Dravlen strode into the council hall, Simon trailing a few steps behind.

  The room was already filled.

  Rows of mismatched chairs, benches, and cushions were all packed with strange figures. A low murmur of conversation hung in the air like static.

  “Good day, Councillors,” Dravlen boomed, his voice cutting the air clean. “One strange traveler, as ordered.”

  A few heads turned sharply. Several more swiveled as he gestured toward a lone seat in the center of the room.

  Dravlen’s tone shifted down.

  “As you can probably guess from his clothing, he’s not a threat to anyone in here. Honestly, I doubt there’s anyone in this world he could beat at the moment. But he’s been following instructions and cooperating.”

  Simon took the seat slowly, aware of every eye in the room tracking him.

  Dravlen flashed a grin down at him.

  “I will say. He’s got a mouth on him. Should fit right in.”

  A round of chuckles coated the room.

  With that, Dravlen gave a jaunty wave and turned on his heel, striding back through the doors without waiting for permission or reply.

  The door thudded closed behind him.

  Silence settled like dust.

  Simon sat still in the hot seat at the heart of the room, suddenly very aware of how ragged he looked. He twiddled his thumbs and tried to casually glance around at the unfamiliar faces.

  So many kinds of people. Some human, some very much not. They were studying him with open curiosity, skepticism, or… worse. One human man stared at him with intense interest.

  Well. This should be ‘fun’. He thought as he continued to dance his eyes across the room.

  He resumed scanning the room, carefully avoiding the gaze of his new, overly enthusiastic admirer.

  No eye contact. None. Not even a flicker.

  He had seen all but one of the races the room contained.

  Seated among the council was a woman who seemed almost carved from starlight.

  She was taller than anyone else in the room and seemed impossibly graceful. Golden hair shimmered as if each strand carried a thread of sunlight. Her skin bore a soft, crystalline glow beneath the surface, like light refracting through polished quartz. Sparkling green gem-like eyes scrutinized him.

  The silence had grown and piled high.

  Simon had enough.

  “So…” He spoke, sweeping the silence away. “Is one of you Brian?”

  He regretted it immediately.

  From the corner of his vision, his overly enthusiastic admirer lit up like someone had just summoned him with a spell.

  “Hey! That’s me!”

  The man waved excitedly at Simon. Early thirties, by the look of him. Although everything about his posture screamed “professional sitter.” Wiry, bespectacled, and wearing a patchwork robe that had clearly been designed with far more function than form. The collar didn’t match the sleeves, and there were more ink stains than patterns.

  “Brian Kent. Head of magical research, at your service.”

  Simon didn’t miss a beat.

  “Got a brother named Clark?”

  Brian lit up. “Ha! I wish. Though if I had heat vision and flight, I probably wouldn’t be stuck in this valley playing with bark and whatever this council drops off the table of construction.”

  He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets.

  “This is my version of a cape. Doesn’t fly, but it does have fourteen inner pockets. One of them… might even contain second-breakfast.”

  Simon matched his lean and nodded sagely.

  “Found the one ring yet?”

  “No, sadly. But I have been working on multiple magical rings. They will have to suffice.”

  They both leaned back and grinned at each other.

  A groan split the room.

  “Oh, in all the heavens. Of course, the interesting newcomer is another strange Earth-born.”

  Brian scoffed. “Strange? Really?”

  Simon smirked.

  “Well, you are wearing a robe you called a cape.”

  Brian nodded thoughtfully. “I did finish my PhD.”

  They exchanged a solemn nod of mutual understanding.

  A soft, crystalline voice cut through the moment like sunlight on glass.

  “Well. That certainly answers my first question.”

  All eyes turned to Serel as she tilted her head and asked the next.

  “I know some may have already discovered it, but for those who haven’t. Traveler, what is your name?”

  The mood in the chamber shifted. The room stilled. Jokes faded like echoes.

  The meeting had begun.

  Simon straightened in his seat.

  “Simon Starfall.”

  “A pleasure. I am Councillor Serel. Now to state the obvious, Simon Starfall of Earth. Why have you come to Varnholt?”

  “Uh… I had a quest to come here? Foundations of the Universe?”

  A ripple of murmurs passed through the room.

  “And where did you come from then?”

  “I landed in the valley.”

  Serel raised a soft, ornate eyebrow.

  “You.. landed?”

  He nodded.

  “When was that?”

  Simon scratched the back of his head. “I think, uh… a couple days ago?”

  “Could you be more specific?”

  “Look, I landed in the evening. I woke up, got a quest to come this way, saw the lights from miles out, and just… started walking.””

  Another wave of whispers. Heads leaned together.

  Variations of “It’s true, then…” began to ripple through the council.”

  Serel’s expression softened slightly, her emerald eyes gleaming with something like pity.

  “To be clear. When you say you landed, the day before your arrival here… is that the day you were, shall we say, dropped off by our new cosmic host?”

  “Correct.” Simon slowly responded.

  Serel tsked, a sound so delicate it was almost musical.

  “Then you are very late.”

  She folded her hands before her, the shimmer of her skin catching the light like crystal through water.

  “You see, Simon Starfall… Most of us arrived here twenty-seven days ago. Then all of us completed the Foundations of the Universe quest within twenty-four hours.”

  She let the words hang in the air, watching him carefully.

  Simon frowned. “So? I’m here now.”

  Serel’s voice dropped, calm, quiet and unnervingly gentle.

  “You missed dozens of System events and all benefits that came with them”

  Simon blinked. “Right… but it’s not like they were mandatory, right?”

  He glanced around the room. The looks that met him were not reassuring.

  Shock. Pity.

  A few expressions bordering on horror.

  Brian slowly raised a hand.

  “Simon… seriously. You missed the entire onboarding phase. The rewards were tied to effort, sure. But even the worst of us still walked away with guidance, resources, and skills.”

  Simon blinked rapidly, brain reeling as he thought through the implications.

  After a few moments of silence, he forced a smile.

  “Well, Shit!”

  —— ? ——

  — AUTHOR NOTICE —

  ~TheBusyBard

  Harmony is offered. Growth is earned. Limits are unknown.

  ——————————