Adrian woke up beside the embers of a fire. He smelled meat, and hunger seized him. He was ravenous—hungrier than he’d ever been.

He sat up to find whatever the smell was, and then he saw the pile of burning corpses. That was the smell.

He dry heaved. His empty stomach wanted desperately to empty itself more, but only a clear stream of bile and drool managed to get out. Unable to push out anything solid, his body kept trying. After six or seven failed attempts, he keeled over and collapsed onto his back. Everything spun as he hit the ground.

“Lower resolution my ass,” he hissed.

“Don’t talk,” a familiar voice said from above.

He looked back and saw the woman from the battle squatting down, her teeth tearing into what looked like jerky.

God, he hoped it was jerky and not a skin golem or a corpse she was gnawing on. So she was alive then? He’d saved her life. That had to be worth some jerky.

Drool pooled down the corner of his mouth.

“Can I get a bite?” he asked.

“Haven’t I given you enough?” she asked, taking another big bite that finished off the meat.

His heart sank.

It was light now, and the mist was gone. She had long blonde hair that spilled down her shoulders. It glowed in the morning light. It was the first time Adrian had seen her without a helmet. Her leather armor was a dark brown, but the blood staining it was nearly black. She looked a good fifteen years older than him, though the scowl she wore probably added a decade to that.

“I told you to kill me,” she said. “You didn’t listen.”

“I freed your hand,” Adrian said. “So you could use your magic. It seemed like it worked.”

“And I barely managed to drive off your little beasts, and then peel the golem from my body. I had to use the last of my strength to heal the hole in your head. Another few seconds and you’d have been a ghost.”

Adrian looked down, his cheeks burned. Why should she make him feel ashamed or embarrassed? He’d saved her life.

“Still better than if I’d killed you,” he said through clenched teeth.

He tried to stand, but fell back down, his head spinning. He touched the back of his head, expecting to feel a big bandage or caked blood, but there was just hair. He was fully healed. The problem was that his body felt like he’d run a marathon, and Adrian had never in his life run more than a mile at a time.

“I’m fully insured by my guild,” she said. “From your sad equipment and the handful of silvers in your bag, I doubt you shelled out for even the worst resurrection insurance. Why did you wander into this battle? You didn’t think the Soldiers’ Guild would recruit you–or…” she started laughing. “You didn’t think anyone was going to pay you for your ‘help,’ did you?”

He shook his head. He was missing way too much information here, and each new thing the woman said made him feel deeper in the dark—and more embarrassed. He didn’t want to come off as completely ignorant–though he doubted he could look much worse at this point.

“I…” he said. “I was just trying to get to Antia. I stumbled into the fog and saw the lights from the battle.”

She laughed harder now. “Why would you walk into the fog alone? This far south of the city? And if you were too stupid to know better, your beasts would have warned you. Wait, did you come from the south?”

The goblins had warned him. And he’d forced them forward, ignoring their warnings. She said she drove them off? So they didn’t die at least. They’d tried to kill Adrian in the end though, so he shouldn’t feel too relieved that she spared them.

“Yeah,” he said, “I came from the south. Why?”

“How are you still alive?”

“What do you mean?”

“No one has gone further south than these fields and ever come back. Not in over a century.”

“Oh,” he said, “I, um, I actually can’t remember anything for more than a few days at a time. I only have memories from a few days ago. I think it’s always been like that.”

He couldn’t tell her the truth, so he’d have to lie. This lie was a good excuse to try to get information about the world from her. He wanted to go into Antia slightly less ignorant than he’d stumbled into the battle with the lich. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even managed to see the lich.

“So you’re just…” she said, looking him over, “you have been living in the forest? You know nothing else? How did you even learn to speak?”

“I must have been abandoned as a child,” he said. “I don’t really know what’s wrong with my head.”

“I healed you,” she said, “but let me take another look.”

“If you healed me, why do I feel like shit?”

“I used your own strength to heal you,” she said.

Without asking, she bent over and took hold of his head in both of her hands. He risked a look up at her face as she touched his temples, and her wide mouth and sharp nose reminded him of a history teacher he’d had a thing for. His cheeks reddened, and he forced himself to look down, but then his eyes fell on her breasts, so he just closed his eyes.

It felt like just yesterday that he’d been with Laura, and immediately checking out some older woman felt like he was betraying her. But then he remembered that she’d betrayed him. For Hunter. Still, he seemed like he was already on this lady’s last nerve, the last thing he needed was getting caught looking at her chest.

The light from her hands pulsed, and even through his closed eyelids, he could see the pink light growing.

“There’s nothing wrong with you now. You should be able to make new memories. I must have healed whatever was wrong when I healed the head injury the goblins gave you.”

She let go of him.. He hadn’t realized how nice it felt for her to be touching him until she’d let go. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. He’d been eighteen years old when he’d died on Earth, and this woman looked to be about 35. Adrian decided to use his boyish looks and sad backstory to milk information out of her. He gave her his best confused expression.

“Um,” he said, “where is everyone?”

There were piles of burning corpses, and there were still a few dozen soldiers and not-quite-soldiers scouring the battlefield. Most were collecting equipment or dragging corpses around. The hundreds of fighters, archers, and handful of mages were all gone though.

“I felt obligated to stay behind and make sure you woke up,” she said, but she forced a tight smile. “I’ve been using White Magic too long.”

“What do you mean?”

“You really know nothing?”

He gave her his dopiest, most confused look.

She sighed. “White Magic can only be used to heal or protect. When White Magic flows through me, I feel an overwhelming sense of empathy for all sentient beings.”

He remembered how he’d felt connected to the forest in the tutorial, when he’d used Green Magic. “Can you just meditate? To get back to normal?”

She nodded, but frowned. “I can, and I did, but it adds up over the years. You can’t feel that level of connectedness and empathy day in and day out and just forget about it.”

“I guess it’s a good thing,” he mumbled. “What was the lich doing here?” He looked around at the battlefield and the piles of burning corpses and bones. “I’m guessing we beat him?”

She nodded, but gave him a skeptical look when he said “we.” “We defeated the lich, but a much stronger lich controls everything south of here, all the way until the Argaio mountains. It was almost a century ago when the Black Mages’ Guildmaster turned and took over the forest. Now no one travels to Argia except by sea. I don’t understand how you survived in that forest for so long.”

“Turned?”

“Black Magic is the hardest of the colors to control. Ever since the Guildmaster turned, Black Mages must committ ritual suicide when they turn 30 years old. If they refuse, their own guild must euthanize them.”

He made a note to himself never to learn any Black Magic.

“Um,” he said, “thanks for your help. I really appreciate it. Do you think you can help me learn some Red Magic?”

She scowled at him, which he took as a “no” before she even spoke a word. “You’d have to join the Red Mages’ guild.” She looked over her shoulder, then spoke in a lower voice. “I’m in the White Mages’ guild, but I would not recommend joining any of the magic guilds.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, gathering her things. “I’ve healed you and seen that you’ve awoken safely. I need to get back to my guild.”

“Wait,” Adrian said, holding out a hand. He forced himself up onto his knees, but he knew he was too weak to even get onto his feet.

“What?” she hissed.

“Are you going to Antia?” he asked. “What’s your name?”

She’d already started taking half steps away from him, and was now a few feet away. He had to strain his voice to make sure she could hear him. She wanted to get away from him, and if he stopped talking, she’d be gone.

“Yulfria,” she said. “Though I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

She took several steps away, and Adrian shouted back at her. “I’m Elrick! Thank you for all your help!”

She waved at him without looking back.

He’d never liked his real name. Many of the other boys had helpfully pointed out to him growing up that “Adrian” was usually a girl’s name. Elrick was not a girl’s name, and it was a name he felt fit this place. It had no special meaning to him, but when he went to say his name to Yulfria, it just rolled off his lips. Maybe the name “Adrian” wouldn’t work in this language they were speaking and would sound too foreign?

It took a few hours before Elrick could stand up again, but once he did, he was able to walk. He walked slowly at first, but soon he was able to move at close to his normal speed.

He didn’t go straight for Antia though. He was surrounded by destruction and corpses. He took some time to take in the battlefield and try to imagine what had happened after he’d been knocked out. There were giant craters all over the ground. This had been a farmer’s abandoned field, but now it looked like something out of the First World War on Earth. He tried to strike up some conversations with the people who were scavenging equipment, but most just scowled at him.

The corpses were just starting to smell as the sun hit them, but the bones–which the lich had animated–were stripped of all remnants of flesh. He used his Anatomy skill to figure out how to dismantle some of the skeletons.

The people scavenging the battlefield were not just regular people who showed up and wanted to get some free loot. They were all wearing uniforms over their armor, and they worked together to toss equipment into big wooden, horse-drawn carts. Most were overweight, old, or otherwise sickly looking. One walked with a pronounced limp. These must have been the fourth-string soldiers, relegated to scavenging battlefields. Elrick hadn’t had much luck getting them to talk, but he cautiously approached one of the men scavenging. This man was whistling, which made Elrick think he’d have better luck with him.

“Excuse me,” he said. The man stopped whistling and looked up at him. “What are you going to do with the bones?”

“There’s no time to clear these bones out. We’ll just leave them here.”

“Really?” Elrick asked. “So...you wouldn’t mind if I took them?”

He shrugged, as if it wasn’t his business at all. Elrick nodded thanks, and the man went back to whistling as he tried to rip a bronze chestplate off a very charred corpse. Part of the bronze looked like it had melted and fused onto the corpse’s blackened skin before cooling again. The scavenger hacked at it with a hatchet to get it free.

Elrick worked to gather pieces of bone that fit him well, and just when it started to rain around mid-morning, Elrick had finished his work

He’d tested the strength of the goblin shells against that of the skeleton bones. The shells offered more protection, so he kept those for his knees. He wore a skeleton’s ribcage over his chest, and he’d transformed a skull into a new helmet to replace the one of the slain turtle goblin leader. He had managed to find his old turtle goblin helmet. None of the scavengers had bothered to take it. He shoved it back into his satchel as a backup, or in case he ever came across more turtle goblins.

The bones the lich had animated were stronger than a regular skeleton’s, the lich’s magic must have strengthened them as part of the reanimation process.

He couldn’t find a way to make anything to protect his arms or legs, but a big pair of scapula worked to protect his shoulders.

The scavengers had been moving systematically across the battlefield, and Elrick had been picking up bones in places they’d long finished scouring. He’d hoped he’d find some kind of equipment that they’d decided wasn’t worth salvaging, but he’d found nothing worthwhile.

Just when he’d all but given up on finding anything save for bones and his old helmet, he came across a cape. It was black, though patches of it were sun-faded and looked more like a dark grey. Still, the cape only had a few small bloodstains on it, and it didn’t have any holes in it. He picked the cape up and drew it over his shoulders. He clasped it shut just above his sternum. He took a few steps back and forth, satisfied at the way it billowed behind him, then fell menacingly beside his feet when he stopped. He held his sword at his side, and grinned when he realized the cape obscured his sword. He took a practice swing from that position, imagining his opponent’s surprise as the sword came seemingly out of nowhere to end his life.

Elrick wished he had a mirror or a lake to look into, he must have looked insanely cool all decked out like this—covered in the bones of fallen lich soldiers, draped in black, and packing a sword. This was a good way to walk into Antia and make a strong first impression in the city.

* * *

Before he’d reached the place that the battle had happened, everything had been abandoned and decaying. Now that he was north of the battlefield, signs of civilization sprung back up. He felt like he was truly entering Antia now, though he was still far on the southern edge of the city. Each time he crested a hill, he could see the towering obelisks and temples of the city drawing closer and closer.

Elrick walked with the sea around a half mile to his west. Soon houses with thatched roofs popped up along the path as the fields grew smaller. Elrick passed other travellers–most wearing cloaks or clothes that looked like burlap sacks–as he neared Antia. Those that didn’t glare at him just avoided making eye contact with him entirely.

His armor probably gave them quite a scare. He looked either like a walking skeleton, or maybe like some kind of fierce savage who grew up in the forest and was only now venturing into civilization for the very first time. They didn’t know what he was capable of, and they figured it was probably better to steer clear of him.

Just as he reached the city walls, the sea branched out and formed a channel. The path became a grand bridge lined with bronze statues, which had long ago formed lustrous green patinas. The statues towered over the people on the bridge, even over those on horseback.

The horses’ hooves clopp-clopped loudly on the cobblestone, and Elrick suddenly found it difficult to navigate through the throngs of people. He’d become too used to the empty paths of the forest, with only the tiny little goblins to keep him company. He wondered how his turtle goblins were doing on their own, now that they’d lost him as their leader.

A broad-shouldered man in a polished bronze cuirass walked right into Elrick. The man’s mass shoved Elrick to the side, and Elrick gripped his sword beneath his cape, considering if he should brandish it or not. Maybe he could just show the hilt as a threat.

He held his cape tight around him, covering the sword entirely. It wasn’t worth it. He didn’t know the laws of Antia, and getting into a fight with someone while still on the bridge into the city wasn’t the best way to introduce himself to civilization. Still, it pissed him off the way the man had shoved him. He glared at the man over his shoulder, but the man didn’t even bother to look back.

After crossing the bridge, the single path split into dozens. The tallest buildings, aside from the massive monuments such as the cathedral and obelisks, were nearly six stories high. The buildings’ height was compared to a modern city on Earth, but considering the lower level of technology here, it was overwhelming.

Elrick just followed the roads that seemed largest, figuring it would eventually lead him to the city center. When those roads brought him closer to the huge cathedral, which came in and out of his vision as the roads wound through the city, he knew he was on the right track.

Soon he lost sight of the cathedral entirely, and just when he thought he’d lost the way completely, a small road he was on emptied into a massive marketplace. The marketplace was a huge open square, dominated on the far end entirely by the cathedral. The edges of the square were covered in shop fronts, most of which were six or seven stories high. Outside the shop fronts were little stalls packed with vendors and customers. Many vendors were selling food, which made Elrick’s stomach rumble, but others sold weapons, armor, jewelry, supplies–it looked like anything that could possibly be sold was being sold here.

A huge sign overhead, covering an arched entrance way, read: Welcome to the Agora.

Food. He wanted to eat. Even if it cost him a few coppers to eat, having a full stomach would give him a clearer mind to spend the rest of his money more wisely.

Yulfira had said she’d “used his own strength” to heal him. That must have been why he was so hungry.

He found himself led by the scent of meat to a vendor with a huge open fire. All atop the fire were skewers covered in meat. The meat was coated in some kind of dry rub, and the smell of fat and meat on the fire combined with the spices had Elrick reaching into his satchel for his coins.

The vendor took a knife to one of the finished skewers, shaving off thin sheets of meat into some kind of baked flatbread. He threw in some green, leafy vegetables, and some colorful ones Elrick had never seen in his life. He poured a minty-green sauce all over everything, then wrapped it up in the bread.

Elrick had to fight for several minutes through crowds of people. Apparently no one here had invented “lining up.” Eventually, his patience running out and his hunger threatening to eat his own stomach, he shoved a few people and forced his way forward to the counter.

“Two coppers,” the vendor said.

Adrian didn’t know if he was supposed to haggle, but he doubted there was much haggling to be done when the price was so low. He slammed the coins onto the counter, grabbed the food, and bit into it.

The flatbread had appetizing black char marks on it, and it had just the right mix of outer crunch and soft bread taste as he bit into it. Then the fat of the meat and crunch of the greens hit his taste buds. Just as he thought he was in heaven, the sauce exploded with a flavor combination that Elrick had never imagined. It was like the best parts of sesame and mint and cumin all mixed together, but at the same time it wasn’t any of those things. This world had food that didn’t exist on Earth, Adrian realized, and he couldn’t wait to eat more of it.

He concentrated on the vendor. His cooking skill was 92. This was one of the highest skill Elrick had ever seen, and he was selling this for only two coppers?

Then again, the volume this guy was moving was insane. Elrick watched as he ate and tried to keep count. The vendor was probably making two coppers every 15 seconds.

With his stomach full, he decided he needed to find the Red Mage’s guild. Yulfria had warned him not to join a Mage’s guild, but she hadn’t bothered to tell him why not. He’d chosen Red Magic during character creation, and he may not have remembered why he’d chosen it since they’d wiped his memory of it, but he trusted his own look under the hood more than he trusted a random and off-hand comment from Yulfria, who hadn’t even given him a single bite of her jerky.

He might not want to buy the spells and a spellbook immediately, but he at least needed to know how much they cost. He had to trust himself with his skill choices. He’d chosen Red Magic for a reason, and it would simply be inefficient to have chosen Red Magic as a starting skill if he didn’t need to prioritize using it early on.

Adrian walked with his chest out and his cape wrapped ominously around the shoulder and rib armor. Most people in the agora were wearing much plainer clothes, and very few wore armor. His skills were not very high, but it seemed they were at least higher than average. He must have looked like someone to be feared. People must have wondered just where he got these bones from, and what kind of man would wear the bones of his enemies as armor.

That’s when he turned the corner of a stall and saw three boys, maybe 12 or 13 years old, all wearing bone armor. Two of them had cheap looking swords, and one had a two-handed hammer with a wooden handle so shabby that it probably would give him splinters if he gripped it tight enough to swing hard.

They looked up at Elrick. He stopped and stared down at the kids.

“Cool armor, mister,” the one with the hammer said. “Are those turtle goblin shells on your knees?”

Elrick nodded, unsure of what to make of these children.

“I’ll give you a copper for them,” one of the kids said.

“They’re worth more than that,” Elrick hissed. He couldn't even buy another kebab with a single copper. He’d nearly died fighting for these shells.

“Alright,” the kid said. “If they’re worth more, then let me take a swing at them. If they can take the hit, I’ll give you five coppers for them.”

“They can take the hit,” Elrick said. And just as he was about to add in, “But they aren’t for sale,” the kid’s hammer slammed right into his knee.

Unbelievable pain jolted through Elrick’s knee, his leg buckled and gave out, and his new skull armor was put to the test as it crashed against the cobblestone.

The kids all laughed, and the one with the hammer flipped him a copper coin. “Keep it, mister.”

They walked away, but not before Elrick checked and saw that the kid only had 33.6 skill in Mace Combat.