Sorting through the Paladin of Light’s words and gauging whether a topic could be asked about safely was melting Valerie’s brain.

“Not many are interested in divine Blessings nowadays, what with the gods absent.”

The nonchalance in his voice told her that this was common knowledge. So Valerie nodded despite a thousand questions running through her mind. Something was off. Was it the room? The casual reference to gods? The uncomfortable wooden chair? Paladin Light? She took a bite of the potatoes and carrots from the plate of breakfast set in front of her. Expecting them to be bland, she was pleasantly surprised by the spices and salt, the warmth welcome against the chill of the apparently unheated temple. Shouldn’t spices be expensive without modern shipping? She didn’t ask about it for the same reason she didn’t ask why Paladin Light wasn’t eating: there was no need to let guilt (or sharing) ruin a good meal.

They were in the Temple of Light in Castia — a grand name for a drab, earthy-reddish building indistinguishable from its surrounding peers — in a room so sparse that, save for the hole in the wall that passed for a window, Valerie would have thought it an interrogation room. Facing Paladin Light alone, despite his amiable tone, she wondered if perhaps this was an interrogation.

Amelia was still sleeping in Valerie’s new room. Valerie looked down at her nearly finished breakfast.

Damnation. Now she felt guilty. Well, the girl wasn’t awake yet. Sleeping peacefully, the last Valerie had checked. Perhaps the nightmares had dissipated with the morning light. Several times during the night, Valerie had been woken by screaming and crying and had lit a candle and held the girl until she fell asleep again. She hadn’t minded it. It was Valerie who was strange, not having nightmares that kept her awake. Instead, she’d dreamed of the last time she’d had similar sleepless nights in the weeks after Sophia’s birth. Ruben and she had taken turns, a few hours on duty sleeping in Sophia’s room, a few hours sleeping with industrial-grade earplugs.

She’d make sure the girl had breakfast waiting for her when she woke up.

Apparently, Valerie’s Paladin Blessing made her a high-ranking official in the Temple of Light. A “Paladin-appoint,” which was the official title for a trainee Paladin. It felt strange, but not unwanted, to be acknowledged as she walked through the halls.

This must have been what it was like for a partner at a law firm to walk through their million-dollar-a-month office space. Well, some sort of office space.

As a young paralegal saving up for law school, she’d been the one doing the acknowledging, whispering, standing to the side, and hoping to be noticed.

However, unfilled jobs that appeared attractive at first glance usually were unfilled for a reason. Bad management, stressful work, high cost of living, stingy benefits. In this case, as she was learning from Paladin Light in not-so-delicate terms, the whole industry was in a decline.

“Most divine magic is unreliable, whether Skill, relic, or ritual. Greater Heal barely patches you up, Restoration leaves you exhausted, Resurrection always fails. Not to mention the most alluring benefit of the divine Blessings used to be asking the gods for favors.”

Without his golden armor, the Paladin of Light could still be called a golden knight. Silky blond hair that flowed down to his shoulders, skin so clear and bright it shone, and beautiful golden irises like pieces of amber encasing traces of sunlight. An unnatural color for eyes, she knew rationally, but as she tried to maintain eye contact during their conversation, she found herself forgetting which eye colors were natural.

“So,” Valerie said after swallowing her food and looking away, “you gave me a half-useless ‘Blessing’ that no one wants.” It was still hard to believe she was talking about supernatural things as though they were mundane.

“No. No matter how crippled the Blessing may be, a Paladin would never lose to a Fighter. It’s just that many consider other high-Level fighting Blessings better. Various Knight Blessings, Bladesmaster, even Barbarian. Holy Knight, in fact, is ranked higher in Adventurer guides. But there’s a lot more to Blessings than slaying monsters. I wanted to be upfront about this since you were, you know — ”

No, she didn’t know, but she nodded anyway.

“ — a Deathseeker.”

Was she imagining things, or was Paladin Light acting differently from yesterday? More forthright. Now that he’d roped her into his organization, he must have discarded his recruiting act.

She would’ve accepted his offer much faster if he’d spoken like this.

They’d given her new clothes — she was all too glad to be rid of her Earth clothes, which were shredded in several places and flaunted her foreignness — as well as a chainmail vest, a helmet which she currently wasn’t wearing, a pair of steel boots (she wasn’t sure why they’d given her the boots without the rest of the armor), and a sword (she’d returned Paladin Light’s second sword). Supposedly, after wearing the vest and the helm for a while, she’d acquire Skills that would let her wear the full-body plate armor that was all the rage in the Order of Light.

“Then why didn’t you make all the civilians Paladins?” How many had died outside the walls waiting for the gate to open? How many lay out there in the tall grass? “Wouldn’t that have helped more of them survive?”

And why had he granted it to her?

“There are restrictions. You need a basic fighting Blessing, like Fighter. Retired adventurers and soldiers have advanced Blessings from their previous careers. I was limited to those who gained their Fighter Blessing in trial by fire last night, like you. And I can’t hand out the Blessing like a nobleman at a broth –– ahem, like, uh, well, I can’t grant it very often. It’s meant to be bestowed by the God of Light himself.”

Valerie raised an eyebrow. Paladin Light had successfully oversold the Blessing before, so it stood to reason he might do so again. Rarity didn’t imply quality.

The golden knight rolled his eyes. “A Paladin of the Order of Light is supposed to spend a decade in training, learning how to exude confidence, walk with grace, speak eloquently, and hold in his farts. Not that we do, given that, as I mentioned, Holy Orders aren’t in their best shape. We’re lucky the Holy Knight Blessing is more Knight than Holy. Otherwise, I’d probably be the Beggar of Light. Where was I?”

Hadn’t he first seen her face down in the mud, bleeding to death? How did that translate to grace or eloquence? At times he seemed reasonable, and then at others he made no sense.

“Most importantly, you need to be a savior or a protector.”

“I’m no savior,” Valerie scoffed, stifling laughter as she imagined herself with Jesus-style facial hair walking around with a hooked staff. Did he mean a hero? That idea conjured progressively more horrid makeovers: a domino mask, spandex and a cape and wearing underwear on top of her clothes, scanty bikini armor. Thank God she’d seen several female knights in the Order, and they all were wearing similar armor to the men.

Maybe it would be good to avoid saying “God” out loud until she figured out what the deal was here with these missing gods. This was a temple.

“Saviors don’t name themselves. They’re called such by the people whom they save.”

Ruben and Sophia’s faces flashed across Valerie’s mind. How many times had she wished they’d see her as their hero? But there was no way they did. The idea was laughable. No, it was obvious whom the Paladin was alluding to.

“Amelia?” she asked. It wasn’t really a question. Who else could it be? When Paladin Light had granted her the Blessing, Amelia had been the only person Valerie had known in this world.

“You saved her, killed a Twisted Stalker, carried her from a burning town, and brought her to safety. I think she sees you as a gallant knight who saved her — well, since you’re a Paladin now, I know unless you’ve saved somebody else recently.”

What was she supposed to say to that? There was no one else; it had to be Amelia, but she didn’t feel “gallant.” She felt like she’d been stabbed in her shoulder and her side, and then rolled down a few flights of stairs, and then forced to run a marathon.

No, cut the crap. One good deed didn’t balance out the past. A hundred good deeds wouldn’t: life wasn’t a balance sheet. Valerie would strive to be a better person, act as if she were a good person, but she had a long way to go, and she’d never make it to savior. She’d never even make it to decent mother. She was shoveling dirt into a bottomless pit of her own making.

Praising her for heroic qualities was … wrong. Cheap. It erased her mistakes, the people she’d hurt. If Paladin Light knew what she’d done, the man would never have given her the Paladin Blessing. That this world had allowed her the Blessing meant either the Blessing wasn’t what the Paladin thought it was, or this world was broken.

Did that mean she belonged here? Was that why she was here: she’d been sent to some kind of karmic purgatory? Broken people sent to a broken world?

Valerie ate more carrots and potatoes in an attempt to avoid responding, but her thoughts must have trickled out through her expression because Paladin Light began tapping his fingers on the table, looking displeased.

“I see I won’t be able to convince you. Know that I’m not giving up, but there are other pressing matters. Before we wrap up this conversation, I would be remiss if I didn’t inform you of your duties.”

Being assigned duties was reassuring. Power always came with responsibility. If power was given without responsibility, either the power was false or the responsibilities were hidden. Shifting in her seat, Valerie prepared herself for the other shoe to drop. Unreasonable demands. Overtime hours. Duties no one else wanted. Years as a young paralegal had taught her how to identify the crap disguised by her manager as a “learning opportunity” or “part of expanding your role.”

“Fulfill your oaths.” Paladin Light handed Valerie a sheet of paper. The oaths were written on it. “Recite them every morning; it’ll help you memorize them. Second, maintain the image of a Paladin of the Order of Light. Be courteous, have good posture, help people in need, smile and nod — for now, try to copy me when we’re out in public. This may seem frivolous, but how people perceive you is, for better or worse, nearly as important as how you act. Saving people is not enough; you must convince the people that you will save them.”

“Public image,” Valerie said. Every company whose case she’d worked on had asked her to work with their public relations department. Those hacks acted as if public sentiment would break them out of jail. “I understand.”

Paladin Light’s eyebrows rose. “The country bumpkin understands something.”

Damnation. Had that been a slip-up? Though Paladin Light knew she wasn’t from anywhere nearby, at some point last night it seemed they’d tacitly agreed to pretend she was from a village in Rhine. It was useful to have a person in power covering for her, but it made it difficult to guess what he thought about her. She’d never been good at mind games.

She needed to take the time to figure out her story. The problem was that she didn’t know enough about this world to make up a story. Damnation.

This world.

The idea made her head spin.

At least she didn’t have to worry about buying her medication.

Although she tried to think of it in a positive light, her mood sunk lower. Despite how much difficulty it caused her, the anger medication was important to her. It fixed her biggest problem in exchange for creating a bunch of small ones, like dynamite used to break up a boulder blocking a tunnel. The debris she could clean up; the boulder was insurmountable.

“You’ll have more responsibilities as you get settled in, but focus on those for now. You’ll accompany me until I’m confident you can act as a representative of the Order of Light.”

“Yes, sir.” That was easy enough. Follow him around and learn to copy him. This world held dangers for normal people — last night had impressed this on Valerie — and at Paladin Light’s side looked like the safest place to be until she figured everything out. As long as she could learn to fit in quickly.

“No need to call me ‘sir.’ We’re both Paladins now.” The Paladin placed both his hands flat on the table. “Before we part, two more things. First, since you’re a Paladin, you should know — don’t laugh at this — in a broader perspective, the Order of Light’s mission is to restore the Sun. If you come across any potential collaborators or relevant knowledge, you must pursue it, or report it to me if you judge it too important or difficult for you to handle it alone. Don’t chase phantoms, but if you think something has real potential — ”

Thinking that Paladin Light had already finished with the instructions, Valerie had let her mind wander. Now he was talking about the Sun? Restoring it? What was wrong with it? “Pardon me? The Sun?”

“You know the Sun was not always red, yes?”

“Of course,” Valerie said, trying to save another slip-up. The sun here was red? Stars could be different colors, but . . . come to think of it, she hadn’t seen daytime here. The sun would be red? Resisting the urge to look around for a window, it dawned on her that the unsettled feeling she’d had all morning stemmed from the lighting — the dim, red-orange natural lighting entering through windows throughout the temple. It was as if, outside, the sun had begun to rise and then fallen asleep while half still lay below the horizon, persisting with red-orange light without change for hours. “It used to be — ”

Paladin Light shook his head.

“Where did you go to school? The Sun used to be brighter, giving off a white light like a glow-lamp. That’s why glow-lamps are white; they were made to imitate the Sun before the Dimming. When Aver left, the Sun died, leaving behind this red, dimmed husk. It’s a corpse, a ghost, a shadow of its former self. It’s why the Twisted spread so easily, why the northern lands are covered in ice, why there are constant food shortages, and why south of the sand sea the jungles collapsed and became infested with undead. If the Sun could be restored, the tide would turn in our favor. It’s a long shot, but somebody has to try, and we are the Order of Light.”

The Moon was similar to Earth’s, but apparently the Sun was not. Given the stars and the auroras last night, she should’ve expected that. She had to be careful. Although Paladin Light was supporting her, medieval societies weren’t known for being accepting of outsiders, and the guards’ treatment of the refugees didn’t give her confidence that Rhine would break the mold. How would they react to a person from another world?

“Second, tell nobody that you were a Deathseeker, save your fellow Paladins.”

Valerie nodded despite having no idea what he was talking about. Deathseeker? He’d mentioned that yesterday, too, and she’d claimed to be one. That was something she needed to learn about as soon as possible.

“The Church doesn’t have anything against Deathseekers, it just may be...awkward if we’re not careful about introducing you. That’s all, then.” Paladin Light rose. “We’ll be riding out to fight the Twisted at noon. Meet in the main hall.”

“Yes, Paladin Light.”

It wasn’t as if she wanted to be here. Maybe if she outed herself, someone would send her home. To her family. To her 2006 Civic and her gym and her library. The thought of her eighty-dollar-per-month membership going unused this month made her wince as if she could physically feel the $2.67 draining out of her pocket each day.

If she revealed herself and they wanted her gone, though, it would be much easier to kill her.

“Hm, I expected a complaint,” Paladin Light remarked. “You haven’t received any training yet. Although I heard you fought bravely last night.”

“You’re the boss.”

Paladin Light let out a surprised laugh. “Oh, you have no idea how good it feels to hear that. Don’t worry, I’ll ensure your safety. By the way, has the girl settled in? Our temple in the capital is larger and better suited for children, but the journey’s dangerous right now. The temple here’ll have to suffice for the time being.”

There were children in the temple? Valerie couldn’t recall seeing or hearing any children wandering around. The halls were silent, bereft of the shouts of children playing, and the dining hall hadn’t seemed child-friendly. “Do the temples house orphanages?”

Paladin Light shook his head slowly. “No, but if you claim her as your daughter, the priests and priestesses will be happy to look after her while you’re away.”

“You expect me to adopt her?”

“Well, that’s usually how it’s done.”

She was happy to play Paladin, follow Paladin Light’s instructions, and go out and do good in this world. Hell, she was looking forward to it. But to become a parent again, become responsible for Amelia — she couldn’t do it. Not to herself, not to Amelia. An absent mother was not a good mother. At least at an orphanage, the girl would have friends her age and a chance of being adopted into a real family.

“Are there orphanages in Castia?”

“Valerie, orphanages are not — ” Paladin Light stopped, amber eyes searching her face. “The orphanage on Coleym Hill is a good one, but they’re probably over capacity from the refugees. You’ll need coin.”

He counted coins from his purse, frowned, and then smiled sagaciously.

“Half of this is coming from your first paycheck.”

But Valerie was too distracted to be bothered by the return of his con-man demeanor.

How poor of a caretaker must a mother be for her child to be better off in an orphanage? In most cases, it would depend on the quality of the orphanage, the presence of relatives to help the mother, the opinion of the child —

But for a few would-be mothers, such deliberations were like weighing an elephant and asking if it had clipped its toenails. For a few mothers, the child’s life would be better anywhere else, with anyone else.

She was one of them.