I can do magic? I can do magic! The feeling in my arm faded, and I refrained from testing any other spells out as I sat there stunned. There were other things to figure out, like my next steps. I looked around me at the strangely normal world around me, like I hadn’t just done something reality-breaking. “Okay, oh great and powerful phantom voice, where am I supposed to go? Is there a village nearby?”

  ‘Finn the Mage wonders where there might be a village, yet without a map or directions he does not know,’ the Voice stated dramatically. The shift in tone was very disconcerting.

  “Oh my God, you’re the narrator for this shitshow? Can you tell me?” I groaned. The change in it made me nervous. There had been no indication that it would or could flip that switch.

  ‘Finn the Mage rages at the universe because of his lack of knowledge. He again hears a rustle in the forest behind him.’

  “Not cool, Voice, not cool!” I said, indeed hearing the rustle behind me. Standing up, I quickly turned toward the noise and aimed my hand, ready to burn the thing before I got hurt. Whatever it was, it moved closer. My hand shook as I scanned the edge of the forest for what was coming. Though the pitiful amount of damage the Firebolt spell had done to the tree didn’t inspire much in the way of confidence. I was unsure if it would do enough to whatever was in the woods.

  A man in leather armor studded with bits of metal stepped out from behind a tree. A stylized bird, either a hawk or an eagle, was embossed on the upper left part of his armor. He looked like a former frat boy and had that great hair you only see on TV. I instantly disliked him. He raised his hands to about chest level, palms out in the universal gesture for ‘I come in peace.’

  He grinned and said, “Whoa, there! Calm down. No need to attack me.” He stopped about fifteen feet from where I stood.

  “Who the fuck are you, and what do you want?” I asked, not lowering my hand, which was aimed at his chest. Despite my worries about the strength of my Firebolt, the feeling of magic racing through me was exhilarating. It wasn’t hard to hold back, though. I really didn’t want to hurt anyone.

  He chuckled and took a couple of steps closer into the tall grass. “I’m just curious about who I found all alone out here in the forest,” he replied. In a totally non-ominous way, of course.

  The Voice wasn’t giving me anything and I had a possible source of information. Just needed to play it cool. “I have no clue how I got here, but I know magic, so don’t try anything!” I said. Internally, I cringed. That wasn’t smooth at all.

  He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t take another step. “Well, isn’t this just delightful! You don’t know how you got here. And you’re a magic man, eh? How cute,” he said with a small smile. “And they say that the gods don’t provide what we need.”

  I honestly did not like this guy’s attitude. “There’s nothing cute about it, friend. Who… the fuck… are you?” This was not going the way I had hoped. He was too friendly, too interested, and too unimpressed with my paltry attempts at being threatening.

  He nodded firmly, putting his hands down. “I’m not your friend. But I could be,” he said with a smile. “My name’s Xander. And I just so happen to be new to this area as well.” He bowed. He actually bowed, bending at the waist with his right foot forward and hands out to his sides. “Perhaps we can help each other? Not for free, of course. I am a mercenary, and we do love our money!”

  Not putting my hand down, I too laughed, though a little nervously. “Yeah, money. Well, I need information. Xander, is it? I don’t know you. So unless you want to get burned, stay over on your side of the log.”

  The mercenary crossed his arms and looked me up and down. Like I was a piece of meat and he was thinking about eating me. “Fair enough, magic man. I can stay over here while we work something out. Let’s say, five coppers for answering your questions, per question.” He looked me in the eye, yet again with a raised eyebrow. “That is, if you have the coin.” It reminded me of someone, but I just couldn’t place it.

  I didn’t know if I had shown up with what passed for money around there, but I put my hand in my pocket and felt a few coins, most about the size of quarters, only thicker. I really didn’t want to be scammed, but I had questions that were very pressing. “Okay,” I said, pulling out a coin and showing it to him. “First question. Where the hell am I? Why is there magic here?”

  His eyes widened slightly, focused on the shiny gold coin between my index finger and thumb. “Right now? You are east of the village of Fasker’s Down, in the kingdom of Marea. And magic is as normal as breathing, of course! Those were two questions, but I’ll give you a discount on the second,” he replied, still eyeing the coin.

  That coin distracted both of us, which may have led to my giving him information without engaging my brain. “I’ve never heard of the kingdom of Marea. Is that in Europe? Are we in Europe?” I asked, confused.

  “I’ve never heard of Europe,” he answered with another grin. “Keep asking me easy questions like this and you’ll owe me a silver pretty quick.”

  “How can you not have heard of Europe? Wait, don’t answer that. How are we able to talk with each other? Do you know English?” I asked. I didn’t realize how much information I was giving him.

  “Who? Don’t know anyone called English. Friend of yours? As far as being able to understand each other, we are both speaking Tratta. Everyone knows Tratta,” he said with a shrug. He looked at me strangely, like something was adding up for him. “You’ve been asking some strange questions. By chance, are you one of those… Earthborn? What kind of magic user are you, anyway?”

  Something about the way he said Earthborn, like it was almost a slur, gave me a chill. I suddenly didn’t want to be on my own in that clearing anymore. “We didn’t agree to my answering you for anything. Let’s just keep to our current deal, okay? How do I get to that village? I know you said we’re east of it, but how far? And is there a path or road?”

  His smile was a little too big as his hand dropped to the sword hilt at his waist. “Well now, magic man. Your tab is getting pretty high now, but directions are going to cost you much, much more.” He pulled his sword out slightly and pushed it back in and shook his head with a chuckle. He started walking toward me with his hand out. “I’ll be taking that gold from you now. In all honesty, those directions will cost you the rest of your coins.”

  The threat emanating from this guy was almost palpable, and I took an involuntary step back. I probably should have blasted him with every spell I had. Even if they were as low-powered as the Firebolt spell, at least it was an option. Instead, my mind flashed through what the Voice had told me about my spells, which wasn’t much. One of them, Mind Read, was level 2 already, and it might give me what I needed. I focused hard on his head and shouted, “Mind Read!”

  Again, the power flowed, but up my body to my head and at a higher intensity. It felt good, very good, as it reached out to the mercenary and latched on to him. Pushing into him. I couldn’t see anything happening, but the latching on to his mind was harsh and… and I didn’t have the words to describe it. Potent, maybe.

  His eyes widened as he cried out in horror and pain, drawing his sword. “What the hells are you doing to me?” The mercenary dropped his sword and fell to his knees, clutching his head between his hands as I rummaged through his mind. The spell did what it said. I was reading his mind, forcing it to give me the information I wanted. It was a sickeningly powerful feeling, like there was nothing he could do to stop me.

  In his head, I saw a village not too far from here, maybe a few miles to the west. It was like a map had opened up before my eyes; I saw a general route from here to there. He screamed in rage and pain, rolling on the ground. My grasp on his mind was severed as the sense of being pushed away caused me to stumble back a step. Instantly, the horror of what I had done threatened to overwhelm me. Guiltily, I tossed the gold coin in my hand to him. It landed on the ground in front of him, and I spat the rising bile out of my mouth.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The power I had over him, the impression of it, was not something I should have enjoyed. It was different from the sensation of the Firebolt’s release. I still felt the echo of it flow through me, yet what I had done was wrong, and I couldn’t ever do that to anyone ever again. Nothing would ever justify that.

  “Don’t follow me, Xander.” I walked at an angle away from him, watching him for aggressive movements. “I’m… I’m sorry for doing that.”

  “You’re… You’re a Mage,” he rasped. He shakily picked up the coin, holding it in his hand. “I’ll see you again, magic man,” he spat. He didn’t move, but stared daggers at me as I moved away from him.

  “I really hope not, Xander.” I felt like I was going to be sick, but I needed to get away from this place before he killed me.

  Xander coughed, his eyes following me as I left the meadow. “I’ll find you, Earthborn Mage! There’s nowhere you can go that I can’t follow! And then—” he snarled.

  His words trailed off as I turned and ran into the forest. It was a long way to the village, but I kept running as long as I could. There was promise there, of information and safety, if only in my mind. If not, the Voice had mentioned that I could find quests in taverns, and I needed a drink.

  The village of Fasker’s Down was just that: a village. Wide dirt paths bordering on being roads wound through the wooden buildings. They ranged from small one-room huts to a three-story building that had a sign with the picture of a pig chasing a young woman. Despite the rustic look of the place, it was bustling with people moving among stalls with all kinds of goods.

  I caught only glimpses of fruits and bread, knives, and even charcoal portraits. I couldn’t see everything as I joined the crowd, for it was a crowd, so I carefully made my way through the village toward the large building with the odd sign. As I got closer, I noticed the village was bigger than I’d first thought. I looked down a side street as wide as the one I was on. It went on for about the length of a football field before it forked or turned, preventing me from seeing the end. An old man bumped into me, then began grumbling loudly about outsiders. I shook my head. Even here, there were grumpy old men who griped about strangers.

  The three-story building was some sort of inn. The noise from the street had prevented me from clearly hearing the sounds of a stringed instrument, somewhere between a mandolin and a harp, coming from inside the open door. People wandered in and out of the place as I stood there just looking. My mouth was dry, and though I could probably eat, I really needed a drink.

  “Move it!” yelled a man behind me, so I walked up into a noisy, smelly room. The smell was somewhere between a post-game locker room and a pig barn. Parts of the place seemed well-lit with hanging lamps, but there were also dark corners with shadowy figures. Kind of like that scene from the movie trilogy my brother loves. I had given him the box set for Christmas, the one that came with a ring, though I’d fallen asleep an hour in when he made me watch it.

  That scene… no, I wasn’t looking for adventures. I wanted to figure out where I was and how I got here. After a drink.

  The bar was dark and polished, with some of the straw on the floor piled up at the base. Likely from people kicking it while waiting for drinks. I waited for the balding man behind the bar to notice me, watching the waitresses, or barmaids, move through the crowded tables, grab drinks and food from the bar, and bring back copper and silver coins in almost equal measure. It was like just about any other bar or restaurant I had ever worked in. Stress and efficiency.

  “Er, what are ya having on this fine Market Day?” the man said, somewhat harried. He wore a stained apron on his front, decorated with fresh grease stains and spilled drinks. It was an odd contrast to the waitresses’ clean aprons.

  “How much for a drink?” I said, leaning against the bar and hoping it wasn’t too expensive. I had only a few coins left.

  “Depends on what ya want. Ale is two and wine is four. The stronger stuff is six, and we don’t do the fancy drinks during the lunch rush, so don’t worry about that.” He looked at me expectantly.

  I pulled two of the smaller coins out of my pocket, which turned out to be silver. “An ale, then.” I still needed to figure out the exchange rate for the different coins, but the coins were about the size of dimes. Guesstimating, that would make them six to ten bucks each. A craft imperial stout could run that much depending on the bar, so two silver for a beer wasn’t too outrageous.

  The man grinned, eyeing the coins on the bar. I waited as he drew a large mug, maybe 20 ounces, from a barrel behind the bar. He plopped it down in front of me, grinning widely while he swept the two silver coins into his apron pocket. “Anything else, stranger?”

  I thought about it for a moment. Based on the cost of the ale here, I didn’t think I had enough coins to afford lunch… and I needed to be frugal until I figured out how to get home. “Do you know anyone needing some work done around here? I have some skills that might be worth a few coins.”

  “Kind of scrawny, aren’t ya? Well,” he looked at me thoughtfully, “I dunno if ya could handle much from the look of ya. But last Thursday, good ol’ Gam told me about some trouble up north at the Hollowbrook farm. The Hollowbrooks have been working that land since before Fasker’s Down was more than a yearly cattle market. At any rate, Gam said to me that there are wolves attacking the farm up there, big ones, so the Hollowbrooks were offering good money to deal with them. I’d check with them, unless ya want to spell one of my girls for a shift!” He laughed at the last as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

  I frowned, reminded of all those copper coins the barmaids were bringing back to the bar. Was this guy charging for water, too? Or was it just change?

  “How far north is this farm?” I asked, turning the mug of frothy beer clockwise on the bar top.

  “Oh, bout 6 and a half miles. Couple hours’ walk for someone like you.” He leaned up against the bar. “Speaking of walking, you look like you’ve been on the road a while. See anything out of the ordinary?”

  I took a sip of the beer while trying to think of what was normal for this place. Cool and bitter. Not as strong as the IPAs I was used to. “Yeah, I ran into a guy who claimed he was a mercenary. Tried to kill me.”

  The bartender raised an eyebrow, clearly interested in the news. “A mercenary, eh? Must have been some morning! What would a mercenary be doing in this part of the world? And was he alone? Which direction did ya say you came from?”

  “The east,” I replied, putting a hand up to stop the man’s questions. “I have no idea what his deal was, but I didn’t stick around to find out.”

  The bartender laughed at that, clearly amused at my earlier predicament. “Sounds like a classic mercenary, always looking for their next victim. Or payday!” He wandered off, chuckling, to talk with a man at the far end of the bar who was dressed strangely, with a fancy striped coat and a goofy-looking hat. At least I hoped it was a hat.

  I stood there and drank my ale, watching the people talk and laugh while stuffing their faces. My stomach wasn’t grumbling as much and my head was feeling better, hair of the dog and all that. An errant thought crossed my mind: I could have learned what that dick Xander was doing. An involuntary shudder ran through me, of desire for the feeling of the magic and disgust at wanting to do that again.

  I fingered the remaining coins in my pocket. Probably not enough to buy supplies or rent a room, if the price for ale was any indication. Part of me really wanted to ask, but I didn't want to look like I knew nothing and get taken advantage of. I just needed to act like I belonged here.

  Looking around the tavern’s large space, I noticed an old man sitting in a dark corner scowling in my direction, as if I had done something wrong. I wasn’t able to get a good look at him, but I noticed his bushy mustache and beard. The man stood up, and I looked away quickly, finishing the ale.

  I set the mug down, waved to the bartender, who waved back cheerfully, and swiftly headed toward the entrance. As I walked out the door, I could have sworn I heard a raspy voice yelling about overs or something. No matter, it wasn't my problem, and I felt somewhat refreshed and ready for the two-hour walk to the farm. I stopped at a stall and asked a man with a crazed look in his eyes which way was north, and checked the sun to roughly gauge the time.

  “North?” he said and pointed. He cocked his head and smiled. “Look, if you’re going north, then you’ll need something to deal with the dungeon critters!” he said excitedly and picked up what looked to be a hollow glass ball with two different liquids in it. “This here explosive is guaranteed to deal decisively with all kinds of critters, walls, small boulders, you name it!” His laughter held an edge of madness in it while he tossed the explosive orb up with one hand and caught it.

  I took a step back, putting my hands up. “How dangerous are those?” I asked nervously.

  He set it down and grinned viciously. “Oh, they’re safe. Very safe if you have the skill for it. Interested in buying some? We’re having a sale!” he said, gesturing widely at his wares nestled in cloth-lined baskets and looking at me expectantly.

  I backed away from him and shook my head. “I’m… I think I’m going to go. Thank you, though!” I said and hurried off in the direction he pointed.

  “If you ever change your mind, just look for Mad Mike’s House of Boom! It’s a blast!” the man called out after me. I could hear his unhinged laughter following me out of the market. I didn’t know a damn thing about explosives, and even if I did, I wouldn’t buy them from someone named Mad Mike!

  My day hadn’t started out that well, and even with the beer in my belly it didn’t look like it was going to get much better. I just had to deal with things as they were. At the edge of the village, I stopped for a moment and took a deep breath.

  I was heading out on a fucking adventure.

  Thank you for reading!