“Rise and shine!” Dacre’s voice cheerfully boomed through the infirmary.

  Evie grumbled and pulled the pillow over her ears. Her head was pounding.

  She heard footsteps approach her end cot in the back corner of the room. Dacre’s voice was annoyingly chipper. “How are we feeling? Has our brain melted from curse magic?”

  “Five more minutes,” she hissed out, turning towards the wall.

  “Ah. Just hungover. Well, you sleep as long as you want, and when you want me to fix that right up for you, come and find me. I’ll be in the front.”

  Evie bolted upright, then swayed as her blood pressure dropped. “You can fix hangovers?”

  Dacre turned over his shoulder, as if the bastard was surprised to see her. “Ah! So you are awake. I had no idea.” He sidled over to her and placed a finger at her temple. A halo of light appeared in her periphery and her throbbing headache dissipated in seconds. She felt her entire body relax.

  “That’s good shit,” she sighed.

  “Quite,” Dacre agreed. He grabbed a small pouch from the back shelves and tossed it to her. “Some necessities for you. A toothbrush, flossing string…” He looked her over. “A hairbrush.”

  Evie gaped at the old man. He had seemed so nice at first.

  “You’re a cruel man,” she mumbled as she walked over to the vanity and sink in the corner.

  “I’m a dwarf. Not a man,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t insult me. We’re far superior creatures.”

  Evie stopped short and turned back to look at his retreating figure. “Huh. Not a man. A dwarf. Obviously.” She turned back to the mirror and sighed. He was right. Her hair was a mess. Traveling to a new universe would do that to a girl. “We’re far superior creatures,” she mimicked under her breath.

  She splashed water on her face and pulled her hair back into a French braid, security it with a leather strap in the kit, then pulled back a bit and smiled at her reflection. Gone were the uncomfortable work heels, the makeup, the fancy office clothes. Her skin was bare, hair tangled. She was wearing someone else’s clothes, and makeshift Birkenstocks on her feet. She was homeless, without any money or bankable skills to her name. And she felt great. She felt excited to see what today would bring. She felt…happy.

  At the front of the infirmary, Dacre was writing in his log. A wax paper bundle sat next to him on the counter, along with two steaming cups of something that smelled amazing.

  “Here you go,” Dacre pushed one of the mugs over. “It’s just plain vigortea. I have some sugar if you need it.”

  Evie brought the cup to her face and breathed deep. It was complex, full of warm spices that reminded her of chai. She sighed on the first sip. It was slightly bitter, but full-bodied and flavorful. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  Dacre pushed the bag over. “This is for you, too.”

  Curious, Evie unwrapped the wax paper and felt herself grin. It was a pastry. The dwarf brought her breakfast. “Thank you, again,” she said. He hummed in acknowledgement.

  It appeared to be some sort of puff pastry biscuit, with slight layer separation on the sides. The puff biscuit was dusted in some sort of sugar, with a slight indent in the middle holding a dollop of bright purple jam. She’d never seen anything like it. She took a bite.

  “Holy shit this is delicious,” she moaned around a mouthful of pastry. It was sweet, but not too sweet, and the biscuit layers melted in her mouth. The purple jam was subtle, almost like gooseberry, but it had a spicey, gingery bite to it.

  Dacre snorted. Evie polished off the pastry in seconds. With the vigortea, it was the perfect breakfast combination. “That was amazing,” she sighed. “I really appreciate it.”

  The dwarf nodded. “I’m glad. So,” he paused, looking over his ledger. “I have a few standing appointments today. I’ll be tied up for the next few hours. This begs the question: what would you like to do today?”

  Evie paused. Oh. It hit her then. This man was basically a stranger. She couldn’t just follow along on his coattails, waiting for instructions. Yesterday, she’d followed Nan and Marrel along like sheep. But she wasn’t a sheep. She was a grown woman, and she had to start making some big choices.

  What did she want to do?

  “Well,” she started. “I’d like to explore the town. And I’d like to find Nan and Marrel to thank them for yesterday.”

  Dacre waved his hand. “Well, that’ll be easy enough, Nan is working at the guard’s training yard this afternoon. If you’re exploring around town, you’ll find the yard near the town gate.” He pulled a worn backpack from a shelf under the counter. “This is for you. There are a few silver pieces in there for anything you need to purchase.”

  Evie felt her heart melt a bit for the grumpy healer. “You didn’t have to do that.”

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  “I didn’t,” he replied. “That’s from my wife. Thought you might need some help getting on your feet.” He paused. “She’s also the one who bought you breakfast.”

  Ah. That made more sense. “Well, please thank her for me.”

  Dacre shrugged. “Thank her yourself. She’ll be by later today. Asked about meeting you.”

  “Oh. Okay. Sure! I’ll stop by after I catch up with Nan.”

  He grunted and returned to his logbook. She took that as a yes.

  The sun still seemed low on the horizon when she stepped out for the day, casting the town in a soft golden haze. That close to sunrise, she would have expected little activity on the streets, but the town was bustling. She walked onto the main road and nearly got bowled over by a teen boy running past. Evie [identified] him.

  [Messenger, lvl 9]

  She laughed to herself. She wasn’t getting tired of that trick any time soon. Speaking of which, she quickly brought up her own status screen.

  All in all…it was anticlimactic. Something she could fix later, perhaps. With a sigh, she closed her status screen and turned towards the waterfront.

  The main street led her downhill towards the harbor, past a smithy, carpenter’s shop, stonemason, and weaver’s studio. The street fanned out at the docks with more shops running parallel to the water, including a boatwright and shipping depot. Men and women of all ages were at the harbor, working to unload the morning’s catch, cleaning and repairing the ships, and just going about their days. Many of them, Evie noticed, had hair in hues of muted blues and greens. Another question to add to her list.

  Evie walked along the harbor, breathing in the salt air. At the corner of the harbor, she noticed one building that was busier than all the rest. A line of customers formed out the door and around the building. She approached, her face breaking into a smile as she made out the shop interior.

  It was a bakery.

  Most of the customers had on fisherman’s gear, as if they came straight off their ships to stand in line for baked goods. Which Evie completely understood.

  The sign above the door simply read, The Bakery. Evie peeked through the crowd to get a look at the interior. It was basic to the point of extreme minimalism. There were no decorations, no tables or chairs, no signs of any sort that she could see. At the counter, a teenage boy rushed to fill orders, pulling loaves of bread from the back wall. Under the counter, Evie spied glass trays that were already almost empty, despite the early hour. A few smaller rolls and pastries remained.

  Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to see a young woman with blue-gray hair frowning at her. “Hey, the line starts around the corner.” She pointed in the direction of the crowd.

  Evie jumped, flushing. “Right. Sorry about that. Just looking.”

  The girl nodded and watched her, as if making sure that Evie wouldn’t sneak back to cut in the line.

  As tempted as she was, Evie only had a few silver coins, and no idea how much anything cost. Baked goods would have to wait until she understood the town’s currency and the comparative value of goods and services.

  But when she did…

  Oh, she would be back.

  With a bright grin plastered to her face, Evie meandered back towards the docks, ready to explore the rest of the town.

  Her morning was productive. She was able to map out most of the main areas of town. Brinestone wasn’t a big city. Just a lively coastal town. But it seemed prosperous. Evie didn’t see anyone begging in the street, and most of the buildings seemed well-kept. There was no trash in the street. One thing Evie was very curious about was the town plumbing. In most ways, this place seemed mostly medieval in character. Yet the infirmary had an indoor toilet and running water. It appeared that strange System sorcery was afoot. Would Evie complain about not having to use a chamber pot? No. Never. It was just another question for her list.

  One more strange thing, in a world of strange things, was the sun. So far as she could tell, the sun stayed fairly low on the horizon. It created an incredibly long sunrise, giving the world an extended golden hour. Were days longer here? Was she in a region close the north or south pole? How did the weather work? These were more questions that may take her a while to solve.

  Towards lunch time, Evie noted several vendors set up in a square in what she’d started to think of as ‘the business district’. She hadn’t spent any money yet, but she wasn’t sure how much food would cost. She meandered back and forth between stalls, looking at the prices marked on the boards. Most dishes were a few coppers, far less than Dacre (or rather, Dacre’s wife) had given her for the day.

  After three or four trips around the square, she settled on flatbread wrap with some sort of meat and roasted vegetables. She made another mental note: figure out what animals were considered normal for human consumption here. Hopefully, cannibalism was not a cultural norm.

  The mystery meat was pretty good, though.

  Evie made her way back up towards the town gate in search of the training yard. She heard it first. The clang of metal, the shouts and yells of encouragement. It was close to a guard tower built into the wall. Evie approached slowly, carefully. Soldiers in metal armor and full helmets nodded as she passed. Some paused, staring, and she knew they were looking at her lack of a class. After a moment, one of the soldiers approached. “Can I help you?”

  She started. It was a soft, feminine voice, like that of a young girl. Not what Evie expected at all. She wondered if the girl was one of those cadets Nan mentioned yesterday.

  “I’m looking for Nan,” she explained.

  “Oh! Right! She’s here! I could take you, if you like.” The figure was more excited now, reminding Evie of some of the interns she saw in the office who were so wide-eyed and eager to enter the real world.

  Evie smiled. “That would be great, thank you.”

  The soldier led her through the doorway towards an open courtyard. Inside, men and women were engaged in training exercises from weightlifting to sparring. She saw Nan sitting at a table in the corner with a young man, and moved in her direction.

  As she rounded the table, though, she halted. There was blood. Blood everywhere. The boy sitting with Nan couldn’t have been more than 15. He was crying, sobbing really, and his hand was just…gone. Cut off at the wrist. Nan’s left hand was set gently on his arm, while her right…held the amputated hand.

  Bile filled her throat, and her lunch came rushing back.

  Evie turned, ran to one of the columns in the corner, and vomited.

  Nan looked up and smiled. “Oh, hello Evie! I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”