“Understanding the history and culture of one’s surroundings is the key to victory.” —Commander Gerrin Goldwing, “The Green Lance”

  Tower Castle, Cryptonia, Ground Plane

  “You must rest for now, Lord,” Fern insisted, as she approached to inspect Jasper’s bandages once more. “I need to change this again. Your head wound must fully heal before you begin any strenuous activity. I will not have you die of stupidity in your first week.”

  “What an epitaph that would be.” He snorted, causing her to crack a smile. He liked the way her nose wrinkled when she did. It made her freckles wiggle. “I agree, rest sounds great.”

  “I will return tomorrow, later in the morning,” said Calian. “There is much for you to look over before we can truly begin, Lord Jasper. Titus will want to meet with you as well. Unfortunately, your predecessor left many important matters unattended, and our affairs have suffered.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” He muttered. Calian pressed his lips together and shook his head as if to say ‘I’ve said the same things for years.’

  “I’ll bid you good evening now, ser. If you require me before the morning, just call. I do not sleep much and have quite sharp ears.” He bowed gracefully. “Until tomorrow.” Calian retreated and gently closed the oak door with hardly a creak. Jasper could have sworn that he grinned mischievously before pulling it shut.

  “I don’t know if he wants to eat me or just scare the crap out of me for fun.” Fern gave a small laugh and removed the last of his old bandages, gently running her fingers through his hair as he sat propped against the pillows on the enormous bed. “Is there really nothing I can do today?”

  “This has been quite a first day, and you will need your wits about you. Besides, it is already gaining in the afternoon, and much too late in the day for new endeavors.” She sat back and looked over her work, frowning. “I need to get more herbs for the wound. Please wait here.”

  “Whatever you say,” he sighed tiredly. She smiled and quietly left the room. Jasper rested his eyes for what felt like only a moment or two before he heard her come back in. She set down a tray on the bedside table with a quiet clatter of porcelain. He looked up to see her pour liquid into a cup, hot vapor shimmering over the mug.

  “Drink this, Lord. It will help restore your energy.”

  “Thank you.” He shifted and took the cup. Fern paused to make sure he held it securely before gently removing the dressing on his head. He lifted his cup to drink. It was some kind of delicious tea flavored with honey. He felt warmth spreading through him like a gentle flame.

  “Oh, that’s very nice.”

  “Thank you.” Fern brought the rest of the tray over from the table and set it on his lap. There were some small biscuits and cut fruit arranged in the shape of a flower. Some of the brightly colored fruit he recognized as apples, pears, and some sort of orange. There was a purple ovular thing with many seeds filling the core that intrigued Jasper, but true to his natural caution with unfamiliar textures, he avoided the mysterious produce. Beside the food was a folded cloth with something hidden beneath. “The tea is made from the shredded leaves of a Bol’is plant, grown here in the castle garden.”

  “Right, you said you were the groundskeeper as well as physician.” He sipped again.

  “Yes, Lord,” she nodded, uncovering the herbs and fresh bandages from under his napkin.

  “How is it you are a stone elf and possess such powers with growing things?” Jasper inquired curiously. “The lore in my world tends to indicate affinity with either stone or forests, not both.”

  “That is a bit of a long story, my Lord.” After dipping a cloth in cool water, she carefully cleaned his wound, brushing the dried blood from his hair. “The short of it is that my mother is a northern stone elf and my father is from our southern forest relatives.” She bent to look him in the face. “How is that?”

  “Mm, no pain. Just a slight headache.”

  “The tea will help.” she said, squeezing the cloth into an empty bowl. “And the biscuits will speed up the return of your body’s strength.”

  “Great.” He picked up one of the small disks and nibbled. There was a pretty crisscross design that had been pressed into the top. It was better than good, somehow filling and energizing. “Holy cow. That is amazing.”

  “Cook Harla knows her business well,” Fern smiled. “She made them herself. She has been cooking for us for the last, oh, two hundred odd years?”

  “I’m assuming she isn’t human,” he said dryly, and she smiled again.

  “No, Harla is a dwarven Tribe-Mother of the Sky Trees, from the east,” Fern explained. Jasper’s brows furrowed in confusion.

  “What does that mean?”

  “She is the leader of the Sky Tree clan. When peace was finally achieved between the western orcs and the dwarves many years ago, Harla took up her current position here. She is supremely qualified. Dwarves take cooking very seriously.”

  “I would like to meet her,” said Jasper, finishing the biscuits. The idea of experiencing more of the people in the new world exhilarated him.

  “Tomorrow, maybe,” said Fern. “We will see how the poultice does overnight. If you are feeling up to it in the morning, perhaps Calian can give you a tour of the castle.”

  “I hope so. I want to see more of this place.”

  “It is beautiful,” said Fern thoughtfully. “The land around us may not be what it once was, but seasons change, as all things must.”

  “I think it is amazing,” said Jasper, wondering just how stunning a place it must have been before for the elf to say it had diminished. “I am still not sure exactly what it is you want from me, but I will do my best.” She looked down from inspecting his head to look into his eyes. He could not help but blush at her proximity and intense gaze.

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  “That is all we ask, Lord Jasper.” Her formality and grave tone gave him pause, but she relaxed again. “The Tower has not had a proper ruler in years, to tell the truth. The last three lords were not truly bad men—for the most part.” Jasper’s eyebrows rose with interest. “But they did not understand the heart of our people or the Land.”

  “But…me?” He scratched his jaw. “I’m something of an amateur historian and a novice duelist. Is that enough to lead—” He waved broadly to encompass the new world he had been thrown into. “—this?”

  “Ruling and leading are not just charisma and birthright,” Fern laughed quietly.

  “Yeah, but jeez,” he rubbed his eyes wearily. “I think we need to talk about a lot of things.”

  He began to explain some of his sad past. He had a history of bad romantic relationships and things seeming to implode on him just as they appeared to be going well. It only took Fern a few minutes to realize that his story would be a long one. She pulled up a chair to sit by the bed after gently tying the wrap around his head. Jasper went on to elaborate on his own self-doubt. He was careful to put things into terms she could understand. The last thing he wanted was to confuse her with foreign words. Jasper recalled a therapist’s words about unburdening himself leading to the release of past trauma. It had been years since he had opened up to anyone like that.

  “I’ve had a lot of fear virtually my whole life,” he explained. “Not fear of other people, exactly, but the fear of failure or letting people down. In school, in football—” Fern’s brows knit in confusion. “Er, it’s a sport that I played back home. Where I come from, people are labeled because of stigma against those who don’t fit into the box people think of as ‘normal.’”

  “Here, most people simply believe that each person is made differently,” Fern said with a kind expression. “I was gifted with healing and a heightened understanding of nature. Of course, I had to learn a great deal of this over many years,” she smiled. “It did not all come at once, even healing.” She held up her delicate but strong hands, and they glowed gently.

  “That is quite the gift,” Jasper nodded, impressed.

  “Tell me more about this—” She shook her head, searching for the word.

  “Autism,” he chuckled. “My brain is…” He almost said ‘wired’; the word he typically used to describe it. “…built differently than most people from my world. I see things differently.” She nodded for him to continue. He tried to think of an analogy she could understand. Usually, he would reference something from Earth that most people could understand. ‘Good luck with that here.’

  “Ah, I got it,” Jasper grinned. “You have windmills here, I saw some from the window.” She nodded; her brows furrowed in confusion at his animated expression. “Good! So, inside, you have the millstones. The stone’s shaft, the main gear, all the interlocking gears, the sails, the arms, the horizontal pinwheel shaft, all of it!” He gestured excitedly, meshing his fingers together. “If I know how the machine is built, I can see the entirety of its parts—” He tapped both sides of his head with his fingertips. “—in here.”

  “Really?” Fern sat back, cupping her chin in her hand. “That sounds quite similar to how I heal.” She pointed to Jasper’s head, smiling in understanding. “When I go into your mind, your body, it is much the same. I know the way it should be and can see the way it is. This allows me to knit the pieces back together as they should be.”

  “That is amazing,” Jasper let out a small laugh.

  “It truly is,” Fern nodded. A terrifying thought suddenly occurred to him; he was stranded in a foreign land without any of his medication, or the chance of ever recreating them. What was he going to do? He lowered his head into his hands and clenched his eyes shut in frustration. It was several moments before Fern broke the silence again. “Lord? Are you well?” Jasper blew out a long breath.

  “Physically, I suppose,” he said, not raising his head. “Unfortunately, I think that may change soon, at least for a while.” The healer’s eyebrows furrowed and she studied him more intently.

  “What do you mean? Do you have a condition I am unaware of?” Jasper snorted dryly.

  “Yes, but it is not something visible, really.” When he looked up and saw how confused she was, he continued. “It is a mental and emotional wound.”

  “I can feel the tension in you from here,” she said pityingly. “Many who have come here over the years were broken as you are. I am sorry for you, my Lord, but I will say that I am glad to know your past. It is not good to bottle these pains up inside and try to contain the storm they bring.”

  “Thank you, Fern,” Jasper smiled, his eyes moistening with emotion.

  “I am a healer, not just a physician,” she said with a gentle smile. “I treat the body, mind, and soul.” She touched his shoulder, forehead, and then placed her hand over his heart. “What is this pain you carry? In my experience, unburdening yourself to a willing listener is always a good start.”

  He was not sure if it was because she was a magical elf from another world, or if his old doctor was right, but through the next few hours he spoke to Fern, he began to feel some of the coils of his past wrapping around his heart loosen their grip. It was not gone by any means, but they relaxed the stranglehold on him, if only for a short time. He explained some of the feelings of hopelessness and questioned what the point of his life was. She smiled a bit at the last and brushed imaginary lint off her skirts. Now it was Jasper’s turn to look confused.

  “What?”

  “I believe you have a purpose, Lord.” She gestured around the room. “You were brought here for a reason, Jasper. Whether you believe so or not, the Land found you worthy. I think we should find out why and put your talents to use—whatever they may be—for the betterment of the castle and the Land.” Jasper took several moments to consider what she had said before nodding slowly.

  “I hope you are right, Fern.” He smiled, truly smiled at her, and nodded. “Thank you for your words of encouragement and support.” She stood and bowed gracefully.

  “I am at your disposal, ser. If you feel troubled, please call or come speak with me again.”

  “I will,” he nodded. Fern smiled again and stood. She cleaned up and slipped out the door with only one backwards glance.

  “Goodnight, Lord Jasper.”

  That night, Jasper rolled around on the bed for some time before realizing there was no way he was going to get any sleep. So, he stood and inspected the enormous cabinet of tomes, hoping for something interesting to read.

  “Well, hello there, History of Cryptonia,” he muttered, pulling the large book down from the shelf. The title page was stunningly illustrated, and, of course, he did not recognize any of the authors. What struck him was the fact he could read the words at all. Fascinated, he flipped the next few pages to discover a table of contents, just like books from his own world. He snorted. “It figures that the rules for text organization would carry over but nothing else. And the fact I can somehow read it?” He groaned in frustration. “Magic is so weird.” The first thing that caught his eye was a tab denoting a map of the countryside. He flipped and found the correct page. It was beautiful.

  The Tower was in the center of the page. Many small dots marked on the map were indicated on the key to be various small villages. Four forts were located approximately at the cardinal points. The river he had seen from his bedroom window was shown to be significantly larger than he originally thought. It was actually two separate rivers that joined inside the dotted borders. The smaller of the two wove its way from high in the mountains of the northeast across the Tower’s territory, then further to the west into what the key showed to be goblin land.

  He shook his head in amazement and kept studying the page. The other river split into several offshoots after breaking away from its sister. The smaller tendrils spread out through the southeast beyond the Tower’s border into what were illustrated as thick forests to the east and south clearly labeled the Greenwood. He studied the key more closely, discovering it carried over onto the next page. His eyebrows went up at the long list of peoples and races that lived in the marked areas.

  “Tolkien and Lewis would have a field day with this,” he chuckled and continued reading. Jasper’s mind was completely consumed with hunger for information about this new world.