“Make sure to get something that can keep you warm. You won’t be using it for long but it’s still important for a part of the trip. Don’t worry about food or water. Beyond the clothes and those other things, you can bring anything you want.”

As they exited the market, Adamas was going over everything Mono needed for the journey.

“Anything? Will there be enough room?” Mono asked.

“You’ve been here for three days. What could you possibly have?”

Adamas turned to see Mono’s wide smile. In response, Adamas made a face halfway between a grimace and a grin. “Please, don’t go overboard.”

“Everything will be necessary,” Mono replied in a grave tone. Passing out of the market’s boundaries, he took a sharp turn to the right.

“I hope you’re joking.” There was a brief pause before Adamas noticed Mono walking in a different direction from him. “Where are you going? The inn is the other way.”

“There’s business I need to finish and some things I need to get that aren’t sold in the market. Since we’re leaving early in the morning, I have to work quickly if I want to get everything. I hope the wagon won’t be too cramped.”

“Mono.” There was exasperation in Adamas’ voice.

“See you at dinner!” Mono began to walk away while giving an exaggerated laugh.

Jokes aside, he didn’t actually need to buy anything. Mono already had every item Adamas listed inside of his room at the inn. That being said, there was someone he wanted to talk to before leaving as well as a few things he wanted to have on hand for the journey.

The first objective was probably the most important. After several minutes of walking, Mono stopped to look at his destination. It was located on the other side of the outpost from the market, where the market’s clamor wouldn’t bother the inhabitants. Composed of what appeared to be bricks of various sizes, the local healer’s place was the only one not made of wood in the entire outpost.

Opening the door, Mono stepped inside as chimes hanging from the door tinkled. The room he entered was tiny, better described as a short hallway with doors along one side and a counter at the end. While there were chairs near the counter to sit on and a bell on the counter for people to signal an emergency, Mono made no move to sit. He could hear the pitter patter of running feet as someone rushed to respond to his entrance.

A young boy dashed out of an open entrance behind the counter. Only the top of his head could be seen above the counter as he spoke. “Hello, thank you for coming. My grandmother is currently busy right now so, if it is not an emergency, please take a seat and wait until she is available. We will help you as soon as we can.”

The words were carefully enunciated and expressed with a polite tone. If Mono had to guess, they were probably rehearsed lines meant to endear the child’s request of waiting patiently to the customer. Coercion by cuteness; the healer was a genius.

“No problem,” Mono said. “Let me know when she is available.”

Upon hearing Mono’s voice, the child stood on the tips of his toes to check who the customer was. “Mister Mono!” Opening the hatch on the side of the counter, the boy ran out to give a hug.

Mono tensed as he saw the hug coming but forced himself to not back away from the embrace. He could only tolerate it for a moment, though, and spoke to get the boy off of him. “Leth, if you hold on any longer, I might disappear.”

It was a reference to a self-written story Mono had told about a man who vanished when people tried to grab him. While a somber tale, it was strangely popular. The boy understood the reference and let go.

“Are you here for your checkup?” Leth asked with a smile. “You’re early today.”

“I wanted to get it done as soon as possible. I’ll be going on a journey tomorrow and —”

“You’re leaving! For how long?”

“Three months or so.”

“Oh.” There was a hint of disappointment in the boy’s voice and a look of dismay on his face. “But you haven’t finished telling some of your stories yet.”

It was an understatement to say that Leth loved Mono’s stories. The boy often bothered Mono while he was running errands and tried more than once to get him to continue past a cliff hanger with bribes of snacks.

Mono felt a small sense of guilt upon hearing Leth’s words. He also didn’t like stories with missing endings. “How about I make it up to you right now? I can tell you the endings to a couple while we wait.”

“Really?” The boy hopped onto one of the seats and looked at Mono with a smile.

“Sure. Which do you want me to finish first?”

“The one with the d-wagon!”

It took Mono a second to figure out that Leth meant “dragon.” The boy’s request had begun with the normal double language caused by Sojourn’s stone but ended with the plain English word for dragon which threw him off.

“If that’s what you want.” Mono moved to sit on one of the other chairs. Before he could recall which story Leth wanted, however, he paused in sudden realization.

Leth had used the English word for dragon. Normally, the stone translated so seamlessly that no one, excluding Vivian and Emre, had noticed that Mono was speaking a different language. As far as Mono could tell, Leth hadn’t noticed the discrepancy caused by the stone either. So, why was the kid using the English word for dragon instead of its equivalent in common?

“Mister Mono?” The boy noticed that Mono had become frozen in thought.

“Leth, why did you say ‘dragon?’”

“Because that’s what they’re called, right?”

“But why ‘dragon?’” Mono repeated. “Why that word instead of another?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Isn’t there another word for the things I call dragons in the common language?”

Leth tilted his head. “Mister, I’ve never heard of dragons before you told me about them. Aren’t they just imaginary creatures that you made for your stories?”

There was an awkward pause.

“Of course, this was just a test,” Mono lied. “I just wanted to make sure you kept in mind the fact that all of my stories are fictional.”

Dragons didn’t exist, and Mono was temporarily dumbfounded by the information. This whole time, he had been under the impression that this world was one typical of fantasy; a world with magic, dragons, elves, dwarves, and whatever else there was that he couldn’t think of off the top of his head. This assumption had been reinforced by the fact that, in several stories he told involving some clearly fictional monsters, some of the listeners had asked him afterwards if the plot was based on real events. Just what kind of place had he been sent to?

“I might be young, but I can still tell the difference between what’s real and not real.” Leth sounded a bit offended.

“Right, of course.” Mono stopped his internal dialogue and returned his focus to the present. He would figure this all out later, after he had carefully considered the right questions to ask without giving away his origins. “Where did I leave off in the story?”

“After Saint George meets the monster guarding the bridge.”

Ah, it was this story. While the tale was about Saint George and the dragon he slew, Mono had completely changed the plot since the original was too short and a bit twisted. Instead of an immediate confrontation with the dragon, Saint George had to embark on a grand quest to gather the exotic materials needed to forge a sword capable of piercing the dragon’s scales.

To be honest, the whole narrative was a rip-off of all of his favorite scenes from other novels; Mono was pretty sure that his storytelling for this particular story was a bit rough too. Even so, Leth listened intently as Mono resumed from where he had left off.

“Face to face, the monster issued a challenge to Saint George. ‘If you wish to cross this bridge and enter the land of the manikin, you must first defeat me. Now, which is sharper: your sword or your wits?’ Observing the creature’s six arms and towering stature, Saint George knew his only real option was to best the behemoth in a battle of the mind.”

Even though he had started close to the end of the story, finishing it took longer than Mono expected. After George learned about the monster’s treacherous game and turned the tables on it, he still had to convince the mastersmith of the manikins to forge the sword, return to the city of Silene where the dragon ran amok, and then, finally, fight the dragon in an epic battle.

Like the actual quest, there was a lot of ground left to cover, but both George and Mono were up to the task — though barely.

“I don’t think I can tell another story right now,” Mono said once he reached the end of the plot. His throat was completely dry and his voice more than a little hoarse.

“Fortunately,” a voice behind him said, “you won’t have to.”

The unexpected words startled Mono. He turned towards the counter to address the figure behind it. “Miss Sammar, how long have you been waiting for me to finish?”

The elderly healer chuckled. “Don’t worry, not too long. Leth, now that you’ve had your story, you should go do your chores now.”

“Can’t I —” Leth stopped himself as he looked at Mono. “Yes, grandma.”

After giving Mono another hug, the boy dashed back behind the counter and into another room.

“If you’d please.” Addressing Mono once more, the healer gestured towards one of the doors along the hallway.

Mono nodded and entered the indicated room. The interior was simple: just a bed and a shelf on opposite sides.

“Why are you early today?” The healer asked, entering the room after Mono.

Mono took a seat on the bed. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning and wanted to get this done as soon as possible.”

Miss Sammar began to lather her hands and arms with something that looked like soap. “Is that all?”

She was perceptive.

“I also wanted to buy some of your supplies to take with me,” Mono said hopefully.

As far as he could tell, there was no such thing as healing magic. If that was the case, he wanted to get his hands on anything that would help in case an emergency arose. A couple of scrapes had almost killed him because of infection, and he was determined to make sure that something like that never happened again.

The healer began to wash off the suds in a nearby basin of water. “That’s not as simple a request as you think. I have a limited amount, and it’s often difficult to procure materials that meet the standards of proper medicine here.”

The mention of proper medicine reminded Mono about his uncertainty with the world’s current level of advancement. While certain aspects were definitely outdated, medieval even, other portions were just as advanced if not more so. Miss Sammar knew what she was doing, and had been able to deal with his severe infection within several days — even though his own immune system was no help.

Knowing that anything he could get would have been very handy, Mono was disappointed at the healer’s response. “I see.”

“That being said,” Miss Sammar began to examine Mono’s mostly healed injuries, “I think I can spare a few of the things that I recently restocked.”

“Thank you! How much do I have to pay?”

“Nothing, it’s a gift.”

Mono winced as the healer touched the injury on his knee. That one had been particularly bad and was taking longer to heal. “I can’t accept that, Miss Sammar, you just said that finding these things was difficult.”

“Then consider it compensation for spending time with Leth. Ever since the child came to live with me, he has been very difficult. That is, until you talked to him.”

The first time they met, Mono had given Leth a small lecture on family. He had no idea that his words had actually made an impact, though.

If the healer thought that she was returning the favor for something, it would be best to accept her generosity. “Alright.”

The rest of the examination passed in companionable silence. Once it was over, Miss Sammar gave Mono a leather bag with several items carefully wrapped in parchment and explained what each of them was.

“Any questions?” She asked once she was finished.

“No.” A lot of the items were basic first aid supplies with a few interesting outliers like a salve which helped blood clotting. Looking at them, Mono was glad that he had asked.

“Alright then, have a safe journey.”

“Thank you!” Mono repeated.

After saying goodbye to Leth, who made him promise to return and eventually finish the other stories, Mono walked back to the inn with a slight spring in his step. He felt prepared now, and that meant he might actually be able to enjoy the journey instead of stressing about every little thing.

Once inside his room at the inn, Mono began to lay everything he wanted to bring on his bed. As he was deciding on the amount of spare clothes to bring, there was a knock at the door.

Mono opened it. “Emre?”

“May I come in? I heard you were leaving with the Weavers.”

“Go ahead, and yes I am.”

There was a brief pause as Emre entered and surveyed the things that lay on Mono’s bed. Holding something in one hand, his face was unreadable.

“So,” the innkeeper began, “when were you going to talk to me?”

Mono was confused. “About what?”

“About leaving, of course! I hire you and, three days later, you’re already planning on quitting!”

“Oh, right.” Mono really hadn’t thought about his deal with Emre when making the decision to leave. Now that it was brought to his attention, he wasn’t quite sure how to address it. Whatever happened, however, he was determined to leave with the siblings. “Is there a problem?”

“Not at all.” The innkeeper’s face broke into a smile. “Are you returning?”

“Yes, in about three and a half months.”

“I will hold this room for you until then.” Emre pointed to the bed. “Is that everything you’re bringing?”

“Am I missing something?”

“If you only have that knife for self-defense, I would consider getting something else.”

Mono turned to look at the knife that he had placed next to his clothes. While a very useful tool, he had bought it yesterday out of curiosity more than anything else. “Getting anything else seemed pointless. Since I have very little experience with weapons, I figured that my best bet would be to avoid conflict.”

“Smart, but you might not always have that option, which is why I brought this.” Emre presented a wrapped bundle to Mono.

“What is it?”

“See for yourself.”

Gingerly, Mono began to unwrap the item. It was a piece of mahogany colored wood in the shape of a curly and wide “U.” He had no idea what it was until he saw the string nocks at the end of each tip. “Is this a bow?”

“Correct,” the innkeeper confirmed. “Grab the riser.”

Mono did as he was told and closed his fist around the bow’s handle. The moment he did, its limbs began to wriggle and twist. Mono nearly dropped it in shock but held on in fear of damaging the beautiful wood. Once it stopped moving, the bow had completely changed its shape from the “U” to something more akin to a half circle.

“When I left for this continent,” Emre said, “I only came with the clothes on my back and this bow. Unlike other ones, it can alter its structure to a shape optimal for its user. Now that I don’t have a need for it anymore, I decided to let you use it.”

Hearing the hint of sadness in the innkeeper’s voice, Mono looked up from the bow to study Emre’s face. There was a faraway look in his eyes, as if the man was someplace else.

Maybe it was because of the stone, or because he had read far too many stories, but Mono felt that the bow was more than just a gift. The man was using it as a tool, a symbolic representation of leaving his past behind. Why else would he be offering such an obviously valuable bow to an acquaintance of three days?

Regardless of the reason, Mono protested. “I can’t accept this.”

Emre’s eyes refocused. “Why not? Is there something wrong with it?”

This was definitely something more than a gift.

Mono shook his head. “No, that’s not it.”

“Then why?”

“I have no idea how to use a bow.”

Emre froze. After a minute, he burst out laughing. “Yeah, I guess that would be a good reason to refuse. How about this: I’ll teach you the basics and then how to improve through practice.”

“Will you have time for that?” It was getting late, and Mono knew that the innkeeper was always the busiest in the evening.

“I always have time for growing my business, and making sure my profitable storyteller gets back safely is worth any investment of time.”

“Then let’s do it after dinner,” Mono said. After talking to Leth, he wanted to make sure to conclude as many of the stories before he left. Cliff hangers sucked.

“Sounds like a plan. See you then.” As Emre left, he closed the door behind him.

Once the innkeeper was gone, Mono took a seat on the bed. For some reason, he felt a bit winded. It was odd, because the feeling had only arisen after — Mono studied the bow. If he hadn’t seen it move, felt it wriggle in his palm, he would have sworn that it was a regular piece of wood. What else could it do? And would using it always drain him like this?

Mono set both the bow and the questions aside. He’d get answers later when he met Emre again. Right now, he had to focus on recalling every story that he had left unfinished so far.

That night, Mono told stories once more. While there were many to cover, he was determined to end every single one of them, to leave no chapter unconcluded.

That morning after, Mono left with the Weavers at dawn. Now that this chapter of his journey had ended, it was time to begin the next.