Before I even knew what happened the first large rat was in my stomach and I was reaching for the second. But before I could grab it the thing disappeared into the man’s hands. Sheepishly, I shrunk away when I saw the amused glint in his good eye. With my cravings partially satisfied a new feeling popped up, curiosity. How did I get here? What is here? How long have I stayed? With these questions filling me up I went to ask but before a word left my mouth, I was shot down by the man putting a finger to his lips and shushing. Temporarily I shoved my questions back down and allowed my mind to wander to other things. A sinking feeling suddenly struck me, and I patted myself down for the wand that mother gifted me. My heart dropped down to my stomach, it was gone. I sighed and slumped my shoulders, that thing could buy a title and manor back in the Richit Kingdom.

My shoulders slumped; I could barely control the wind without it. A thought struck me, well I was in the presence of a medicine man, maybe he knows a wizard or two who would be willing to sell me one. With my spirits back up I began looking around for anything that may clue me off on where I was. I could not tell what kind of trees surrounded me, but I could tell that they were a type of pine. Judging by the amount of snow on the ground I had to still be in the far north, at least I was in familiar territory and not some dessert. I may be able to pinpoint the region with my host's clothing and his house’s architecture.

Thinking myself clever I turned an expectant gaze to my host but found myself stumped. I hadn’t noticed before, but his clothes seemed to be a mixture of tribal and aristocrat. A large finely woven coat with a furred collar and animal hide draped over the shoulders, paired with a vest made of what looked like grass. Finely made leather boots sat on his feet, decorated with a few feathers attached by strands of hide, as well as much more. Since I had no luck there, I moved my gaze to the shack and found myself befuddled at its generic appearance, it looked like a trapper’s cabin with a roof made of whole logs and the walls made of wooden planks. Besides the intermediate strange décor, it didn’t look like anything special. Well, that narrows down nothing.

I looked up trying to see if I could use the constellations and found myself reprimanding my previous laziness when studying constellations. Besides the common ones, nothing else stood out. Maybe I should just ask, I turned to do just that and found the man was done with his meal. A perfect opportunity. With a bit of effort, I began a long series of questions, “Where am I?”

His eyes narrowed and in a voice of a lifelong coal miner he answered, “My territory.”

His voice was strange, almost echoey, but from my brief experiences in medicine that could be chalked up to inhaling the fumes of his products, which also may be able to explain his scars. I moved to my next question, “Where is this?”

“Nowhere.”

“Were you the one to rescue me?”

“Yes.”

“Then do you know what afflicts me?”

“Yes.”

“Can you treat it?”

“It’s cured.”

“Do you know who the people that kidnapped me are?”

“No.”

These questions continued until I realized this man was probably not going to give me an answer of more than two words. I was delighted to learn my ailment had been cured but judging how weak I feel I probably have not fully recovered. I moved my questions to the area of magic, “Are you a medicine man?”

“No.”

“Then what are you?”

“Shaman.”

A shaman? I thought shamans only belonged to primitive tribes and had a loose grip on magic, having to rely on rituals and spirits to get what they want. He must understand the intricacies of herbalism and magic to be able to create medicine, and those things require schooling. As confusion struck me so did another thought, there are shamans in history that even rivaled archmages. Maybe I shouldn’t look down on the occupation too much. “Did you perhaps find a wand when you found me?”

His head snapped up and an odd glint filled his eye, “No.”

His eye bored into me and I tried to shuffle away, the atmosphere suddenly became uncomfortable. Did I say something wrong? His eyes narrowed and an abrupt question caught me off guard, “Cast a spell.”

My body began to move on its own and my hands began to twirl. I could sense a bit of magic began to swirl on my fingers. After a bit of effort, a sad little gust picked up into a tiny twister but that’s all I accomplished. I could feel the man’s obvious disappointment burn into my soul. It took me a very long time to just be able to do this. I felt a bit indignant after a while, though I was no master at it I was still considered very proficient. In a stroke of indignancy, I asked, “How about you cast a spell wandless!”

Before all the words even left my mouth, I felt the world seemingly warp and I was knocked back. A massive gust that could rival the flaps of the storm god blew through sending me sailing through the air. Before I could slam into a tree I was suddenly back where I was before. Cold sweat dripped from my brow, if I knew I was in the presence of an archmage-level individual I would have been more careful with my words. I shrunk back but a thought struck me, maybe I could get revenge after all. That is of course if I don’t get shredded by a pissed-off archmage of course.