With lighter bags and a heavier coin purse, Isa headed toward the river. Although she could have left Varana without seeing the dwarf Zileek, it felt wrong to leave without thanking him for his generous offer. If she’d needed it, Isa would have had a place to stay.

As she neared the river she noticed footprints, two sets tracing out a path ahead of her. She knelt to get a closer look. In movies a character is forever leaning in, nose touching the ground and then making pronouncements about the source of the tracks. Isa couldn’t make any guess as to the origin. There were no claw marks, but they weren’t boot prints either. Animal, humanoid, hellspawn…. Impossible to know.

And it didn’t matter anyway. Isa wasn’t going where those tracks went. No way, no how. The river was the scene of her first battle, that inglorious confrontation with the gnoll, and she would not be returning. She could skirt the edges of the river, and they would take her to Zileek’s house.

The afternoon light gave a lively glint off the water. Small aquatic plants with tight purple flowers bobbed on the water. Varana was a lovely place, and the beauty simply reminded Isa that Portland was its own version of beautiful. The verdant forests and the colorful beds of roses, upon roses, upon roses. She would see them again and soon.

As she approached Zileek’s house, she came upon an old man walking slowly with the help of a cane. The tip of the cane sunk into the ground with each step, and Isa couldn’t help but glance at the tracks he was making. She shook her head knowing that even these simple tracks, she could find a way to misinterpret them. “I’m no druid,” she said softly.

“Eh?” The man half turned to see who had spoken.

“I’m sorry,” Isa said in a clear voice. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“”Not possible, young lady. Or rather, I was already disturbed prior to your arrival.”

Isa fell into step beside him.

“Charles Ribone.” He put a hand to his chest. “I used to walk 30 miles in a day and think nothing of it. Now just seeing my morning glories is an all day excursion.”

Isa decided against making a pun about seeing morning glories in the afternoon. “It’s still,” she said, “a nice day for a walk.”

Charles gestured at her staff. “You’re a young adventurer on her way somewhere.”

“Here, actually.” Isa waved at the house. “I’ve come to see Zileek.”

“Our host. Esteemed, beloved, kind, generous…. Pick your modifier.” Charles swatted his hand as if the words annoyed him.

“I’ve only met him the once. I think I’d say ‘kind.’” Isa smiled at the old man. “He was going to give me a place to live.”

“What, here? Are you sick? Only dying people around here.”

Isa’s step faltered just a touch, and then Charles chuckled. “My friends accuse me of exaggeration. The ones still drawing breath.”

“I came here for dinner once.”

“And you didn’t notice all the wrinkles?” Charles shook his head. “Not very perceptive, my dear.”

“I think we were the only ones in the restaurant.”

“Must have come after 6.” Charles followed a path that led toward the river, and Isa followed. After a few minutes of silent walking he said, “The flowers never change, except that they do.” He waved his cane toward the riverbank. “These are not the same flowers as last week, but the roots are the same. They grow and blossom as their brothers and sisters did.”

Isa felt like she needed to reply. “The river is what drew me here. I liked the idea of waking up with this as my backyard. Des’eren, I believe it’s called.”

“Yes, or the Bye. But I like to call it the Well Met River.” Charles flashed a smile. “A little joke from an old scholar. I’ve always found it amusing that the elves called the river ‘Hello’ and the humans turned it into ‘Goodbye.’”

This time Isa’s step did falter. “The Well Met River?” The name was so similar to the river that runs through Portland - the Willamette.

“Hasn’t caught on, unfortunately. But you are free to borrow it, claim it as your own.” He gestured at a bench with his cane and sat down. “This is a little farther than I normally go, if I’ve gone down river already. I appreciate you spurring me on, though.”

Isa sat beside him. Her mind churned with questions and possibilities. The river name - it couldn’t be a coincidence. Charles might have information about how she slipped into this world, whether he realized it or not. “A rest is nice,” she said.

Charles gave Isa a smile. “What happy chance that we should meet, Isa.” He nodded at her quarterstaff. “Though perhaps it was fate. We both wield weapons of wood!”

“Were you an adventurer?”

“No, that was never my calling. Books called to me. History, philosophy, geography. I traveled a million miles in my mind, lived a hundred lives.” He rested his head on his cane. “Wrote a few books of my own along the way. One of them, they still read.”

“History was always a favorite subject in school. So do you know how Bywater came to be? Or how this river got its name?”

“Bywater? No one has ever cared enough to chronicle its history. It’s a trading post, a rest stop, a haven for those of us who call it home, but it’s never been more than that.”

“And the river?” Isa prompted him. “I’m intrigued because it shares a similar name to a river in my city.”

“Ah indeed? No surprise there, most likely. The elves were very keen on naming everything in those first years. There must be dozens of name variants scattered across the land.”

Isa shook her head unconsciously. “No, I’m from a different plane. It’s called-- I don’t know what it’s called, actually. America, Earth, Gaia…. maybe you don’t have a name for it at all.”

He leaned toward her and smiled. “The elves went everywhere. The trees, mountains, and rivers called to them in those days. And, child, since you are here, surely they went there.”