-Vandlind-

A faint mental pressure woke me up. I opened my eyes and winced at the brightness of the sun high in the sky; the rock I had huddled under for cover did little to shade the yellow star.

I shifted my body slightly, eliciting a groan from the leech using it as a pillow.

"Uhhhh. Five more minutes." Veylin nestled deeper into the unarmored crook of my arm.

Unforgivable. She gets to use me as an object while I lay my head on the hard ground?

Veylin pressed herself tighter into me and breathed deeply.

Damnit. How am I supposed to be mean when you do that?

Disregarding my previous thoughts of throwing her off, I placed a hand on her hair and started brushing. A purr of pleasure escaped from deep in her chest, and I absentmindedly continued, thinking how I would approach the caravan now that it was out of the forest.

My locator spell clearly told me it was heading straight towards me -- well, the mountains behind me at the very least. And it wasn't like I could just speak to them. 'hi, could I follow you guys to wherever you're going?' would obviously raise some suspicions, especially with us carrying so many weapons.

Hmmmm. Trailing them the whole time brings its own problems.

They might think thieves or bandits are following them... or something. I really wasn't sure what people would be like on this planet. I had been here for thirty years, but most of that was spent at hyperspeed, secluded to all but three people. My social skills mainly relied on my time as Andre, and Andre wasn't exactly an extrovert either.

I groaned as I set my head back on the ground, Why are people so hard? Ah, whatever. What's the worst that can happen if I tell the truth? I knew the obvious answer to that was 'death,' but I pushed the thought aside.

I clicked my tongue as I sat up, making Veylin groan once more as she flopped to the ground.

"Five more minutes..." she weakly mumbled.

"It's been five minutes," I stood up, shaking the pins and needles out of my arm.

Veylin grunted but otherwise didn't move.

I sighed, 'Voda.' A ball of water hovered in the palm of my hand, and I let it fall on her face. A pleasant yelp sounded out, and she stared daggers into my eyes

"That was unnecessary," Veylin grumbled, her hair and face drenched.

"But it worked, didn't it?" I raised an eyebrow.

Veylin scowled, refusing to respond. Instead, she blew a wave of hot air at her face with her mysterious spirit magic to dry off. Upon adequate drying, she stood up and stretched her hands above her head.

I watched in silence as she began limbering up, eating some dried food I'd pulled from my pouch. She continued moving through a set of stretches, each more bizarre than the last.

During one of these stretches, her right leg placed high on the large rock we used as cover the night before, she asked me a question: "Did you figure out how we're going to approach this? Your sense of concentration while I was trying to sleep was annoying."

I scratched the point of my ear, a habit of mine, "I guess we just ask if we can follow them."

"And what if they say no?"

"I don't see why they would. We can pay them if need be." I pulled a small bag of silver coins out of my trusty pouch and jangled them. The clinking was immensely satisfying, making me wonder why Earth countries abandoned using coins as the primary currency, metal shortages be damned.

Veylin grunted in affirmation or effort as she switched legs, putting her left atop the rock, "I suppose it's better than trying to tail them the entire way. I'm worried about your appearance though."

"Yeah, they probably wouldn't take kindly to armed people just approaching them in the middle of nowhere."

"Vandlind, are you an idiot?" She looked at me incredulously, "They'd be more suspicious if we didn't have weapons."

"Wha-? Okay, then what do you mean by appearance? The magic armor? It's not like it's glowing or something." I gestured to the dull leather. My dad had even dyed it brown so the green drake skin wouldn't stand out.

Veylin brought her leg down from the rock and walked over, "No, I'm talking about-" she placed two soft hands on the side of my head "This."

"My ears? They're not even that pointy. Besides, my hair hides them unless I have it tied back tightly." Despite my past self always keeping my hair cut short, my hyperspeed-self had let the hair grow down to my shoulders. I didn't want to admit it, but I kind of liked it.

Veylin grinned, obviously reading into my thoughts, "I like your hair too. However, you'll still need to change them. Your face is too unique to be a human or elf. Half-elf, maybe?"

"Fine, I will. But can you at least tell me why? Also, I've never seen a half-elf, so you'll have to tell me if this is good." I used transfiguration to make my ears protrude farther out than normal and sharpened the tips; I had to go off the poor illustrations in my mother's textbooks.

She sighed, "I sometimes forget how sheltered you are. Royal Fae are notoriously feared by... pretty much everyone. Did your parents not teach you about the crusades?" I shook my head, and she continued, "Centuries ago, the Royal Fae were much more populous than they were now. They used their natural strength to crush any surrounding races in what they saw as a cleansing," she basically spat that last word, "Anyway, they eventually faded into ruin when a civil war broke out among their own to stop the crusades. Unfortunately, the stigma still remains."

"Ah," My face fell. No wonder my mom didn't want me leaving, my ancestors were racists.

"But you're not like that," She smiled sadly, "And your ears look good."

I gave a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes, "What about your hair and eyes? Silver can't possibly be a common color." I hadn't read about it in my biological studies of the races, and my mother's teaching was very thorough.

"Actually, followers of Restia are sometimes blessed by the goddess and gain the color. I'm not a follower, but nobody would know the difference."

Restia, you conniving-

The mental locator in my mind pressured sharply, letting me know that the caravan was getting closer, "Come on, the caravan is almost here."

I walked to the edge of the little alcove we found last night and gazed out into the plain. Sure enough, the caravan was slowly making its way through the grass. They were still dozens of minutes away, so it was hard to make out the exact details of the wagons. My mana had recharged to about half while I slept, but I didn't want to waste any to enhance my vision even further than it already was naturally. I would need it if we had to run away.

Instead, I gauged the general direction they were moving. A fissure between the mountains lined up exactly with the direction the caravan was heading.

"We'll wait over here." I turned in the direction of the fissure and began walking. Veylin quietly followed.

This gap is huge, I realized, gazing up at the split that bisected the mountain. It twisted and turned, carving a path through the mountains. Fortunaetly, there didn't seem to be any obstructions that would hinder the caravan. Confident that this was their route, I sat on the edge of the fissure and waited with Veylin sitting next to me.

Forty-five minutes passed until the caravan came into range about two-hundred yards away, and the lead wagon rolled to a stop.

I nudged Veylin, who had someone managed to find a comfortable spot on the rock behind us, with my elbow.

She groaned awake.

"I think they've seen us." I vaguely motioned to the lead wagon.

Veylin rubbed her eyes and yawned, "Took them long enough. It's not like we're hiding."

The caravan started rolling forward again, albeit much slower than it had before.

Stopping perhaps fifty yards away this time, the driver of the first carriage called out, "Oi, state your business!" The man's voice was hoarse and quiet even on my eleven ears. It was as if he'd spent half the night drinking and couldn't force himself to be louder.

Veylin murmured in my ear, "Let me do the talking. You're too inexperienced."

I felt my pride hitch but nodded.

Veylin rose from her spot beside me and shouted back, "My friend! It is good to see you! We've been stranded here after escaping a rift. The damn thing spat us out in the middle of nowhere." The lies escaped her mouth smoothly; I might've believed her if I didn't know any better.

'Rift?' I questioned.

'You truly know nothing. I'll tell you later.'

The man in the carriage mumbled something unintelligible and hopped off his driver's seat. (Would it even be called a driver's seat?) My education also failed to teach me much about wagons. Although these ones looked rather plain, they were covered. Maybe that had some significance I was ignorant of to? Did only rich people use covered wagons?

The driver (again, would he be called that?) scurried around the side of the wagon and out of sight. It wasn't hard to figure out that he would be talking to somebody about this development. Veylin and I stood awkwardly shoulder to shoulder, scanning the caravan in front of us.

Several minutes passed before a group of six came striding along, led by the unmistakable half-orc I'd seen yesterday.

She was truly a monster of muscle. Easily six feet tall and most likely weighing around two-hundred pounds (1.83m & 91kg), she carried a massive halberd that rested on her shoulder. Her skin was only slightly green, her eyes an even more striking shade of the color. Two incredibly small tusks jutted from her bottom lip, and black hair, tied tightly in a braid, swayed behind her.

Hmmm. Perhaps only quarter-orc. And the rest of her... human?

It was hard to tell, and I wasn't really keen on asking. She was attractive, though, in a 'death by snu-snu' sort of way.

The rest of the group consisted of four humans and one dwarf. They were all armored light, except the dwarf, who had a heavy set of armor made of what I assumed to be steel. A barbuta style helmet sat atop his head, drawing the eye to his massive brown beard. Unfortunately, they all carried weapons. Fortunately, they weren't drawn... yet.

The small group of warriors came to a stop forty feet away, watching us quietly. The quarter-orc's gaze wavered on me far longer than I thought necessary.

'Well, do something diplomatic-y,' I nudged my bond telepathically. A faint wave of annoyance answered back, and I couldn't help but let out a smirk.

Veylin took a deep breath, "Hello! This must seem rather suspicious, but we intend no harm. We only want a ride to whatever place you're going next. It doesn't matter where. We're lost." The group of six remained passive. "Also... we'll pay." She jingled a pouch of coins that looked conveniently identical to the ones I'd had in my bag of holding.

The dwarf finally grunted after a few moments of silence, "Sounds good to me."

He handed his shield and helmet to the quarter-orc before he strolled towards Veylin, showing no signs of nervousness. Strangely, it was his group that tensed in fear. Though, they made no attempt to stop their comrade from approaching.

"Dramur Greyforge," The dwarf offered an ungauntleted, calloused hand to Veylin.

"Veylin..." She glanced back, "Cyprus. Pleasure to meet you."

The dwarf turned to me with the same hand outstretched, "And you?"

I gripped the hand firmly, "Vandlind Cyprus." I said my last name with a pointed look at Veylin.

The dwarf withdrew his hand and replaced his gauntlet, "Well, Mr. and Mrs. Cyprus, let's head back to the wagons and strike a deal." The dwarf grinned massively beneath his beard.

Greedy dwarf trope? Nice.

Dramur walked back towards the wagons, motioning the two of us to follow.

'Think we can trust them, wife?' I asked annoyedly.

'Oh, shut up. I meant to insinuate that the two of us were siblings. And yes, I think we can trust them. The dwarf had a pendant across his chest, did you see it?' Veylin replied.

'Siblings? And you call me stupid? We look nothing alike! Of course he would assume we're married!' I griped about the lie we would now have to inevitably sustain. 'And yes, I saw the pendant. It looked like a gold dog-tag, right?

'Dog-tag? Whatever. Yeah, the gold pendant signifies him as a member of the adventurers' guild. Gold isn't the highest rank, but the guild is very thorough in vetting its members. Part of that vetting ensures that their members aren't murderhobos who kill other travelers.' Veylin explained.

'Ah, I see.' I nodded, feeling a little better about our situation. I didn't know a lot about the adventures guild other than there was one. The organization was supposedly reputable, so there was perhaps a twenty-five percent less chance we'd get stabbed now.

Our little talk came to an end when the dwarf introduced us to his companions.

The group of five looked at us tensely as Dramur said our names. "Everyone, meet Vandlind and Veylin Cyprus. They're going to be with us for a few days."

The group gave an assortment of greetings.

"This is our archer and pathfinder, Theo." The dwarf clapped a dark-haired, thin-looking boy, no older than sixteen, on the shoulders. Theo had a massive longbow on his back with a quiver so full it looked like it would spill. He had a steel-colored pendant across his dense gambeson.

The archer waved stiffly, "Pleasure."

I nodded at him, trying to size the boy up. A common trope in movies was to make the young, weak boy an archer. In reality, you had to be strong as fuck to use a bow effectively. So, either Theo was packing serious muscle under his armor, or he was an adept Enhancer, possibly both. Unfortunately, I couldn't probe his mana focus without him noticing.

Dramur moved to the next person, "This is Clara, our cleric."

A cleric? Those are rare. Clerics weren't mages, yet they could heal like one, better than one, usually, because they didn't need to understand the complexities of a wound to heal it. Clerics and Paladins offered service to their chosen gods in exchange for favor. They could then use this favor to call upon miracles that looked very similar to magic. (This is the part where Restia would've said something snarky about the laws of causality).

A blond-haired and blue-eyed, attractive girl smiled at me, "N-nice to meet you." She wore a heavy set of reinforced mail; her silver pendant blended in with the metal rings. A savage mace hung from her right hip, and a shield adorned her left hand. Her expensive equipment seemed to be at contrast with her young age, which I estimated to be around eighteen.

I smiled brightly at her, and I swore I saw a slight blush, "What deity do you follow, Clara?"

"I-I follow Lyros, sir. I mean, Vandlind, sir." she stuttered shyly, giving the name of the god of life.

"Ah, a true healer then." I chuckled. She blushed even deeper. God, am I a lady-killer?

"Next, we have the brothers Samuel and William, our fighters." Dramur put a hand on each of the brothers' arms, too short to reach their shoulders.

The crimson-haired and eyed siblings wore nearly identical armor: a chainmail hauberk with a crimson gambeson over it. Samuel, the taller of the two, carried a long spear in his right hand, and he wore a silver pendant. William carried a sword and shield; he had a gold pendant.

"Hello." Samuel gave a slight smile.

"Afternoon." William nodded seriously.

"I gotta ask, which one of you is older?" I poorly attempted to break the ice.

William raised a finger, "I've got more than three years on this bastard." He nudged his brother.

Veylin cracked a smile, "And he's got more than three inches on you."

One of those half-laughs, half-exhales erupted from Samuel, "Even the follower of Restia insults your stature, Will."

Will wasn't short; his brother was just uniquely tall. I guessed that he was around my old height when I was human, which was about five foot ten (178cm).

Will's cheeks matched his hair as he blushed deeply.

Dramur grinned as he moved to the last member of their group, "And this is Shayna, our berserker."

Shayna stood a half-inch to an inch taller (1-2.5cm) than myself, making her the second tallest of the group (Samuel being the first). She wore a similar reinforced mail as Clara's to go with her halberd. And her pendant was easily the strangest: it was a metal a dark shade of green.

Ah, I remember this. That's... orichalcum?

Orichalcum was a metal renowned for its toughness. The metal was most plentiful in the mountains primarily inhabited by orcs, hence its name. If I had to guess, she would be the strongest of the group. According to the pendants, at least.

Shayna looked slightly down at me before giving an approving nod, "You are strong. Both of you."

Dramur's bushy eyebrows shot up so far they almost touched his hairline, and Samuel failed to contain a sudden fit of choking.

Veylin stared blankly, "Something wrong?"

Samuel calmed himself before answering, "No. It's just... this is the first time we've heard anything other than an insult come out of Shayna's mouth when she addressed... well, anyone."

Shayna grunted, "Perhaps if you weren't so weak, I wouldn't insult you so much."

"See?" Samuel pointed accusingly, "Damn half-orcs can't respect anything other than brawn."

"Quarter-orc, shit-skull." Shayna scowled. "And I don't respect brawn. I respect power."

Hmmh. I was right about the quarter-orc thing. Yay me!

Shayna and Samuel continued bickering. I was pretty sure both parties brought up something about parentage fairly quickly.

Dramur cleared his throat, "Let's get in the wagons to strike an agreement. We've wasted too much precious light already."

He continued walking towards the wagons, and the group followed; Shayna and Samuel shouted loudly at the back, but they followed as well. I felt a bit nervous having strangers behind me, so I kept myself ready for any eventual disaster.

There were many other people scattered around the wagons, all armed to a certain degree, though none seemed as well-armed as Dramur's group. I didn't notice any others with pendants either, just identical red surcoats. With a quick burst of mana to investigate the unseen parts of my surroundings, I realized that only the back wagon had people in it. The middle two wagons were filled with supplies, and the front wagon was empty.

Using my mana again, I sent another pulse out to try and distinguish the supplies, but the feedback was too jumbled for me to make an accurate guess.

Dramur lifted himself into the back of the front wagon with a huff, speaking volumes of his upper body strength. The dwarf had just lifted himself up with only his arms while wearing plate armor. Dramur continued to surprise me by holding out a hand and pulling me up and into the wagon with little effort. Considering the armor and weapons I was wearing, he just used a single hand to easily pull nearly two-hundred pounds (~100kg).

Note to self: Don't fuck with dwarves.

I sat on the left side of the wagon, right next to the exit, laying my sword across my lap so I could sit comfortably. I felt bad cramping Dramur, but if things went South, it would be wise to not be at the back of a wagon, trapped.

Veylin sat right next to me, expressing satisfaction at my decision, 'Perhaps you're not as ignorant as I thought.'

'I'm sheltered not stupid.'

Veylin grinned and laid her head on my shoulder, 'Of course. I'd never marry an idiot.'

I shook her head off. The action itself didn't annoy me; I actually enjoyed the closeness it gave us. It was simply the context in which she'd done it. The more complex a lie, the more we'd be likely to contradict ourselves. Convinicng these adventurers we were a married couple might bring more than a few problems.

'Keeping up appearances, dear husband.' she said, laying her bead back down.

The rest of Dramur's party scrambled on one after the other. Shayna and Samuel came last, steam practically leaking from their heads. Dramur sat directly across from me while Shayna sat directly across from Veylin. I doubted that was a coincidence.

Theo smacked the wood at the front of the wagon, and the caravan slowly started moving forward.

I nervously drummed my fingers along the sheath of my sword as the awkward silence began anew. It seemed getting into the wagon had refrozen the ice I had tried so hard to break a moment earlier.

Veylin appeared to be resting on my shoulder, but I could feel her nervousness and adrenaline through our bond. She would be ready if a fight broke out.

Dramur scratched his beard, "So, I heard you two were stranded here after escaping a rift."

Veylin lifted her head, "Yes, it was quite unfortunate."

Clara spoke excitedly, "Really? That's so cool. I've always wanted to explore a rift."

Will spoke up next, "Well, you might get the chance here soon. According to the guild, they're becoming more frequent. It used to be a dozen or so a year. Now, it's almost triple that. I heard the monsters in them are getting stronger too."

What the hell are they talking about?

Shayna nodded, "I would like to test my might against at least one of them."

'Veylin, explain. What is a rift?'

'A portal to a dungeon full of monsters. Nobody knows where they come from or why. They close when you kill the strongest monster inside, or the monsters escape if anyone fails to close it in time. It's very profitable if contained.' Veylin answered quickly.

Samuel was busy arguing with Shayna by the time I zoned back in, "I can't believe you're actually serious about going in a rift! It's stupidly dangerous! What if the rift spits you out in another plane or something!? I mean, look at these guys! They were abandoned in the middle of nowhere!"

"Rifts have been around for years, and people always come back! This is the first I've heard of a rift teleporting people somewhere random!" Shayna retorted, her volume increasing.

"Enough!" Dramur roared. "You're embarrassing yourselves!"

Will rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "Shayna does bring up a good point. Why were you guys put somewhere random?"

Shit.

Veylin spoke without hesitation, "Vandlind's a mage. He used a teleportation spell to let us escape. The monsters inside were too strong..." She chewed the inside of her cheek. "We were the only survivors."

A heavy silence fell over the wagon, and I felt a hint of annoyance at her for revealing my class.

Samuel stared at me in disbelief, "Y-you're a mage powerful enough to use a teleportation spell?"

"It takes pretty much everything I have to do multiple people, but yeah." It wasn't a lie. I could use a teleportation spell if I felt like having the largest migraine of my life. I tried it once and decided I'd rather get eaten by rabid dogs than experience it again. Hyperbole, of course – mostly.

Shayna grinned, "I told you he was strong."

"I take it you know transmutation magic?" Dramur asked.

"Yeah, actually." I cocked my head. "How'd you guess?"

"That's why their equipment shows little sign of battle," the dwarf grunted, ignoring my question. "He could simply repair it with magic." And only then did I realize his hand left the hilt of his ax for the first time.

I silently thanked the gods for implanting a mending spell in my memory.