“Where are you going?”

He turned around towards the voice. Near the end of the old stairway, there stood a young boy clutching a brown moose pillow-pet.

“I’m leaving.”

“For how long? Mom will be back soon with dinner.”

He didn’t know how to phrase his words correctly so he said it bluntly. “I’m leaving for good.”

“Why?”

“Mom can barely feed you and me. If I’m gone, she’ll be able to take better care of both you and herself.”

Even though he said these things candidly, it wasn’t the truth. He was actually afraid of staying. It was too cramped, too stuffy, and always caused a feeling of emptiness that made him hate himself. And since he was too terrified of death to even entertain… other ways to escape, running away from the source was his only recourse.

“She said it’ll get better.”

“Not soon enough, can’t you see how all of that work is eating her alive?”

The boy ran down the rest of the staircase to give a hug. The boy’s arms were squeezing as hard as possible, as if attempting to stop him from leaving. “Don’t go. Don’t leave us like dad.”

He stared down at the boy. Only a few years younger and yet so tiny. Was leaving really the best option? Should he stay? At the thought, he felt his breathing begin to become erratic again; the feeling of being trapped was growing stronger. He moved to disentangle himself and escape.

Mono woke with a start. He was lying in a bed and covered with a blanket. While it was light and thin, he felt incredibly sweaty and uncomfortable underneath it. He quickly sat up and threw the blanket off. A fever dream, he thought. After years of sleeping without dreams, the first one he had was of the night he ran away from home, albeit an inaccurate one. He had run away early in the morning and his brother had never -- Mono shook his head in an attempt to shake away the memories. That was the past, he needed to focus on the present. Where was he now?

The room was tiny, only just big enough to fit the bed and nearby desk side by side. There was a lit candle on the desk which illuminated the room and its bare, wooden walls. Even though he had thrown off the blanket, he was still incredibly warm. Looking down, Mono realized why. His clothes had been changed and his arms, legs, and feet were wrapped in what looked like bandages. His clothes had been changed. Mono hurriedly patted himself down. Where was the stone? After a brief moment of panic, he noticed it lying by the candle and immediately grabbed it.

The stone’s warmth reminded Mono of the room’s stuffiness. It was almost unbearable. Seeing the door a few paces from the foot of the bed, Mono swung his legs and stood up quickly to get to it. When he got on his feet, however, he lost his balance and had to lean on the nearby wall for support, making a loud noise as his arm thumped against the wall. His legs felt extremely weak. How long had he been out? As Mono racked his brain to recall the last thing in his memory, the door opened.

“Hey, easy there. You should sit on the bed.” The voice was unfamiliar and Mono couldn’t see him because of the light from outside the room flooding in.

Mono blinked rapidly as his eyes adjusted. “Adamas?”

“No,” the voice replied, “the name’s Emre.”

“Oh.” With his eyes accommodated to the light, Mono looked at Emre. He had longer black hair and brown eyes. While a little shorter than Mono, his build was comparable to Adamas’. There was a bowl in one of his hands and something that resembled an apron tied around his waist. The sight of the apron made Mono think about food and his stomach growled in response.

“Hungry?”

“Starving, it feels like I haven’t eaten in days.”

“That’s because you haven’t.”

“What?”

“Here,” Emre offered the bowl to Mono. “Take a seat and eat this. I’ll explain while you eat.”

“Alright.” Mono took the bowl and slowly moved to sit on the bed. Inside the bowl was a soup of some type. It was a cinnamon brown with several visible chunks of something floating around. “What’s in it?”

“I didn’t know if you ate meat so I only added opt roots.”

“Thank you.” Mono grabbed the spoon leaning on the bowl’s rim and tasted the broth. Despite its rich color, it was a little bland. He didn’t mind, however, since he was both incredibly hungry and thirsty.

“Let’s start with where we are,” Emre began. “This is a small town used as an outpost for travellers passing through the area. I’m the owner of this inn and a good friend of Ad.”

“I see,” After drinking a bit more of the soup, Mono scooped up a chunk of root and bit into it. It had the crunch of a carrot but tasted starchy like a potato rather than sweet. The root paired extremely well with the broth’s slight saltiness.

“Two days ago,” Emre continued, “the Weaver siblings rushed into this outpost with you in tow. After booking a room at this inn for you, they hired the local healer to help. Apparently, you were dealing with a severe infection.”

Despite the warmth of both the soup and the room, Mono felt a chill run down his spine. Infection? That was something that hadn’t even remotely crossed his mind before. Of course being in a different world would mean his body would be exposed to things he had no immunity to. If Mono hadn’t met the siblings, what would have happened to him? The answer was a scary thought.

“Where are Adamas and Vivian now?” Mono asked.

“They’re currently out, but they asked for me to check on you frequently in case you woke up. I grabbed some soup as soon as I heard the loud thump coming from this room. Speaking of soup, do you want more?”

Looking down, Mono realized that he had eaten everything inside the bowl. “No thank you, the roots were surprisingly filling.”

“‘Surprisingly?’ Do they not have opt trees in Japan?”

Mono froze. “How do you know about Japan?”

“I used to live in another country across the sea. We’d occasionally meet very talented people who could easily talk through languages like you who claimed that they were from a very far away place called Japan.”

Taking a second to think back on his conversation with Sojourn, Mono vaguely remembered how she had mentioned other people. If there were more people from Earth, where were they? “I’m from a country close to Japan.”

“Ah, that explains why you don’t have that symbol on your forehead.”

“Right.” Mono squeezed the stone in his left hand a bit tighter.

“If you’re willing to tell me, I am a bit curious: what else can you do? The Weavers told me that you were able to take down the local tavryr without any weapons.”

“I really can’t do anything else. Beating the thing had been just pure luck.”

“Don’t be modest. That tavryr had been so troublesome that there was even a hefty bounty for it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Ad turned it in and left me with most of it to take care of you. You technically have enough to afford room and board for an entire month here -- even with daily check ups from the healer.”

Talking about the tavryr, its bounty, and the shelter it provided for Mono made him realize that he hadn’t made any long term plans on how he was going to spend his year as he waited to go back home. After brushing with death several times in the span of a few days, adventuring around seemed a lot less fun. Maybe it was better to find a safe place to wait out the time.

“You mentioned that you owned this inn, right?” Mono asked

“Yes,” Emre confirmed.

“Would it be possible for you to hire me? It can be for just room and board. I need a place to stay for a year before going back home.”

“Well, that depends. What can you do?”

“Manual labor?”

“I don’t need that. Can you cook?”

“Not really.”

“What are your talents?”

Mono opened his mouth to answer but then paused. What could he do? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had no real skills or talents. He had spent all of his time at university studying literature or reading and writing stories online. “Tell stories?” Mono said weakly. Before all of this insanity had occurred, Mono had managed to earn a small amount of money posting stories online. It was probably the only thing he was good at.

Emre stared at Mono. After a brief moment, he gave out a hearty laugh. “Stories? That’s unusual. They’re not that common around here; people prefer legends or myths over outright fiction.”

“Oh,” Mono was crestfallen. He supposed it made sense that stories wouldn’t be as popular in a world with magic.

“But,” Emre added, “that also means that not many people have heard stories. I’ve been trying to get people to stay longer at the inn’s dining area and order more things. If you think that you can tell a story interesting enough to get them to stay, I’m more than willing to give you a chance tonight during dinner time.”

“Alright.” The thought of standing in front of a bunch of people to speak was nerve wracking, but he had to try it.

“Dinner time is in two hours, you can stay in here or step outside the room to see the dining area.”

“I’ll step outside.” Mono didn’t want to spend another moment inside the room. Handing the bowl back to Emre, Mono slowly got up from the bed. Thanks to the food, he felt better now and didn’t lose his balance. Making his way through the door and outside the room, Mono looked around.

The dining room had a look more modern than Mono had expected from what he had assumed was a fantasy-like world. The floor was made of stone and the tables of smooth, polished wood. While there was a bar in front of him with drinks on display and normal chairs around most tables, there was also something in the corner far left from where he stood which closely resembled a couch. The area was well lit by fixtures placed at regular intervals in the walls that looked more similar to lightbulbs than candles.

Looking at them, Mono briefly wondered about the level of technology that this world had. If there was magic, was it more advanced or less? Could it be used to solve questions previously unanswerable on Earth? He had always enjoyed fantasy over science-fiction, but thinking about how magic worked with science was interesting.

Emre’s voice broke Mono out of his reverie. “Do you want a drink?”

Mono turned towards Emre, who had moved behind the bar’s counter. “What do you have?”

“See for yourself.” Emre waved his hand at the shelf behind him.

Walking to the counter, Mono stared at the bottles. Each was unique in size, sometimes in color, and had labels on them written with a heavy scrawl. While looking at the words didn’t give him a headache, they began to blur and almost wiggle which made it uncomfortable to watch. Mono looked away from the bottles. “Do you have water?”

“Sure.” Emre turned around to grab a glass cup before bending underneath the counter. After a moment he resurfaced with a glass of water with a small stick leaning on the cup’s rim. “Enjoy.”

Mono took the cup and picked up the stick. What was he supposed to do with this, he wondered.

“Never seen a peri branch either? Stir the water for a bit and then take a sip through the stick.” Emre said after seeing Mono’s confused face.

Mono did as he was told. The water was pleasantly cool and had a slightly sweet taste reminiscent of, but not quite like, mango. He really enjoyed it. “Thank you,” he said, after taking another long sip.

“My pleasure. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Emre said as he moved to an open doorway behind the bar, “I have to make sure the food is ready for dinner.” With that, Emre walked off to leave Mono with his drink and his thoughts.

Dinner; Mono had briefly forgotten about how he was supposed to tell stories during that time. What was he going to tell? He briefly considered doing one of his own self-written ones but decided that they were too unpolished. For a good first impression, it would be far better to tell something tried and true. Mono’s mind wandered as he recalled his favorite stories and thought through his options. Ignoring the modern stories he knew, there were Grimms’ fairy tales, some random fables, stories from Arabian Nights, Boccaccio’s Decameron, and various mythologies.

How would the audience react to sci-fi? Maybe it would be a better idea to introduce science-fiction to an audience that most likely had only fantasy stories. Time passed in a blur as Mono continued to deliberate. He was only pulled out of his thoughts as people entered the dining room from the doors that led outside.

“Emre, where are you? We’re starving!” A loud voice boomed.

Mono turned his head to look.

A group of four, the lead person wore a bright yellow cloth wrapped around his forehead. While he was smiling, the three behind him had mortified looks on their faces.

“The food will be ready when it’s ready. What did I tell you about yelling so loudly in here, Osten? You’re disturbing the people in their rooms.” Emre’s head poked out the back door.

“Sorry about that,” another group member spoke up, “we’ll sit and wait.” With a motion of her hand, the group moved towards the couch and sat down. After giving Mono a cursory look-over, they began to talk amongst themselves, occasionally laughing.

More people began to trickle in and Mono turned back to the bar. He really needed to decide on a story and was beginning to get a bit anxious about choosing the perfect one. A plate of something was abruptly placed in front of him. Mono looked up to see Emre.

“Once the people get their food and settle in, I’ll announce the storytelling. You can snack on some of these for now.” Emre said before turning away to begin taking in and handing out orders of food.

Mono grabbed one of what appeared to be a fruit the size of his palm. It looked like an apple. Taking a hesitant bite, he was happy to learn that it was an apple. It had the sweet taste with a tint of tartness that he loved. The familiar fruit eased his nervousness and, as he took another bite, the apple reminded him of a story he had read several times over. Mono knew exactly which story to tell.

More time passed as the room was filled with a low hum of conversation. Eventually, Mono felt a tap and his shoulder. Turning around he saw Emre with a glass cup in one hand.

“Ready to start?” Emre asked.

Mono nodded his head.

“Alright then.” Emre turned around and flicked the glass with his finger repeatedly. The sound cut right through the noise and people began to quiet down as they noticed. “Everyone, tonight I have something different for entertainment. My friend,” Emre gestured towards Mono “will be telling stories as you enjoy your meals.”

“Stories? Why would anyone want to listen to something outright fake?” Osten, the man with the yellow headband, asked.

“The same reason why we listen to you, Osten. I mean, some of your anecdotes are probably less believable!” The diners laughed at that, including Osten’s friends, and he sat down with an embarrassed, bright red face.

With a gesture from Emre, Mono stood up and walked a few steps forward. All eyes were on him. Taking a deep breath, he began to speak.

“There was once a prideful man hailed by his peers as a genius. After fighting a decade long war, his return home was an epic struggle against angered gods and terrible beasts that would last ten more years. Tonight, I’ll be telling a portion of that struggle, a part of the great story known as the Odyssey.”

The part of the story Mono started at was after Odysseus had gone into the underworld to visit the spirit of a famous prophet named Tiresias for advice. As Mono described how Odysseus dealt with the sirens, creatures which sang songs so beautifully that listeners spontaneously jumped ship to get closer, the audience listened with rapt attention. When Mono introduced the monster pair Scylla and Charybdis, the diners murmured amongst themselves about which threat they would rather deal with.

“And so, after struggling to hold on for hours, Odysseus escaped the monsters on a raft made from the remains of his ship that Charybdis had destroyed. While he had escaped with his life, his journey home seemed to be never ending.”

The room was silent as Mono’s voice trailed off. Gradually, the sound of glass and clapping was heard as people flicked their cups or applauded to show their appreciation. Mono breathed a sigh of relief. He was glad that people liked the story. Reading the Odyssey while eating a slice of apple pie had been one of his fondest childhood memories.

“Mono, that was great!” A familiar voice called out.

As the audience broke out in conversations, Mono turned to see Vivian and Adamas. “When did you guys get here?”

“When you introduced those singing bird things.” Vivian said.

“Sirens,” Adamas corrected.

“Yeah, those. You look well, Mono, how do you feel?”

“Good.” Mono felt a lot better after telling the story, it had helped him relieve a lot of the nervousness he had.

“And you said you didn’t have any talents! Have some confidence. You have an amazing way with words.”

“Oh, that’s just --” Mono stopped himself. He didn’t really want to explain the stone or how it worked. No doubt, people were able to better enjoy his narration because of how the stone helped translate his words. Before Mono could come up with another excuse, however, Emre stepped in.

“Ad, how was today?” Emre asked.

“Same old,” Adamas replied. “Glad to have come in a bit earlier to hear Mono’s story though.”

“Yes, it was quite a good tale. Speaking of that,” Emre turned to Mono. “Are you able to tell more? A few diners said they’d like to hear more about this ‘Odysseus’ or whatever else you have tonight.”

Mono thought about it. He didn’t feel like continuing telling the Odyssey would be ideal narration wise. He felt that the story wasn’t supposed to be told in one sitting. “I have some other stories I could do.”

“Awesome,” Emre faced the diners and flicked his glass once more to quiet the room. “Apparently our storyteller has some more tales. For those of you who wish to stay and listen, drinks will come with a discount tonight!”

There was some cheering. Adamas and Vivian moved to sit at a nearby table. “Good luck,” they said in unison.

Mono went to grab a sip of water before returning to his position. Clearing his throat, he began another story. “Let’s consider a new place for a change. There was once…”

The night bore on as Mono recounted tales of heroes and monsters, of humans and beasts. It would be the first of many nights that Mono would look back on fondly. The first night that he didn’t feel trapped in this new world.