Celia and her father lived in a cozy, but comfortable home. The cooking utensils were well worn, but clean and kept organized on the kitchen counters. A jar of freshly picked flowers sat atop the simple, wooden table, and each chair was padded with a hand-stitched cushion. The placed smelled earthy — likely due to the proximity with the smithy, but not unpleasant.

Curt walked out, tugging the slightly loose sleeve of his new clothes awkwardly. Celia's father might be bulky now, but apparently in his younger days he wasn't much larger than Curt. Curt kept his bandolier, holster, and coat on. He tried to clean as much as the liquor stain from the coat as he could, but the ragged thing had been through too much with him to be left behind.

Celia and her father were seated at the kitchen table, waiting for him. When Curt took a seat, her father turned to him.

"The name's Luke," he said, holding out his right hand.

Curt took it, and gave it a single, firm shake. "Curt."

"Well Curt, what's your story? Not that I don't trust Celia's account, of course," Luke added, seeing Celia about to chime in.

Curt took a moment to reflect on the last couple of hours. Has it really only been two hours? Just two hours ago he was riding the high of blowing up a Hawk train. Then he was caught off guard, cornered at the cliffside, and took his chances and jumped. He thought he was dead, and now he was here, wherever "here" was.

He stared into the older man's eyes, wondering how much of he should share. In a new place like this though, it probably didn't hurt to be cautious. Even if his daughter was so trusting it made even him want to trust her.

"I'm not sure how I got here, honestly. Where I come from, the edge of the world is a sea of clouds. I fell in, ended up here. Celia saved me by stopping my fall."

Luke nodded, though the twinkle of suspicion didn't leave his eye. He figured Luke knew he was keeping some things to himself, but was thankful the man didn't decide to press. Curt wondered what, if anything, Celia inherited from her father.

"The edge of your world is full of clouds?" Celia piped up, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Curt shrugged. "That's what they say. As far as I saw it looked to be true, though."

"Maybe you live on a really, really tall mountain," Celia surmised. "That would explain why you fell out of the sky."

"There are no mountains that tall around here, Celia," Luke said. "In any case, I believe you, Curt. I've seen some stranger things in my younger days anyways. I'm guessing you have no where to go?"

Curt nodded.

"You can stay here for the night. We'll find you something to busy yourself with and maybe see if anyone else has heard of a similar situation before. For now, I imagine you want to get some rest. You can use the spare room next to the smithy."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Curt said, not expecting the display of generosity from a surly looking man like Luke. Maybe that's how he and Celia are related.

"Oh, and Curt? Welcome to Sanora."

---

Curt woke the next morning to loud clanging in the smithy just outside the door. The room he was given wasn't much larger than a storage closet, but it was at least big enough to hold a bed pallet that was just long enough for his height.

For a moment, Curt wasn't sure why there was a smithy outside his room. Then, it hit him. He was far from home. Another a continent, even. Heck, probably a different world entirely. Though, beyond Celia's display of magic the other day, he hadn't seen any other supernatural examples.

Luke stopped what he was doing when he saw Curt enter the smithy.

"Mornin' Curt, sorry if I woke you," he said, not sounding very sorry as he continued to feed the furnace.

"Doesn't bother me," Curt replied. "Got anything for me to do?"

"Help Celia out with the shopping. She's a strong girl, but she's only got two arms. If you need breakfast, there's some food on the table."

Curt grabbed some bread, and caught up with Celia outside the house. The two strolled down the meandering road until they hit what seemed to count as the village center. Farmer stalls were set up in a half circle around a big tree, and a few carts and wagons from traveling merchants joined them.

One cart caught Curt's eye. Unlike the other sellers, whose products consisted of produce, meats, clothing, tools, and other mundane things, this one advertised weapon sales. Guns, in particular. Bright paint on the side of the wood advertised the guns as "Weapons for the Everyday Man! No Magic Needed!"

Without realizing it, Curt was standing right next to the cart, inspecting what looked like a six shooter straight out of the Dusts.

"Seems like I finally got someone who can appreciate these beauts," a man's voice drawled from somewhere to Curt's right.

The stranger clapped a hand over Curt's shoulder, drawing himself close, and in a lowered voice said, "You're a Duster, aint'cha? Come 'round the back." With that, the man let go and disappeared behind the cart.

Curt glanced behind him; Celia was busying haggling down the price of some tomatoes. He headed around the cart. A gun seller in a quaint village like this was peculiar on its own. But a gun seller who called Curt a "Duster"? Definitely strange. But hopeful. Perhaps Curt was not as unique as he thought for surviving a jump through the clouds.

The gun seller was leaning on the back of his cart, lighting up a cigarette. He was about the same height as Curt, and just a few years older by the looks of it. He had slick, black hair tied up in a ponytail, and low brimmed hat hanging over his eyes. Seeing Curt, he grinned.

"Didn't think I'd meet another Duster down here," the stranger said. "You probably realized this, but we're kind of a rarity in these parts. The name's Otto, what's yours?"

"… Curt," he decided to say. If this man was a fellow Duster, he hoped he wasn't part of the Hawks.

"Curt?" Otto's eyes widened and Curt dropped a hand to his holster, ready to draw if the man turned out to be a Hawk. He wasn't exactly infamous among the Hawks, but you could never be too careful. "You from Ore Town, Curt?"

If Otto saw Curt's hand move, it didn't seem to bother him. Curt raised an eyebrow. "I might be, why?"

Otto rolled his eyes. "Drop the guard. With your white hair it was pretty obvious. I'm from Ore Town too, anyways. I'm guessin' you haven't heard of me."

"Heard of you?" Curt raised the hand that was hovering over his gun. He narrowed his eyes at Otto, searching his memory, "Wait… you can't be… the kid that fell into the clouds over a decade ago?"

"Yep, that's me," Otto beamed as if Curt just recited a great deed he'd done. "Thought I was done for then, but well, here I am. And thing is, I'm not the only one."

"Not the only one?"

"Yeah, there's a handful o' others that dropped outta the sky like we did. Granted, not all of 'em are Dusters like us," Otto said with a shrug. "The gal who made these guns is a Yulian gunsmith, for example. 'Bout as stuck up as you'd expect, but as far as Yulians go, she's cool."

Otto gave Curt a moment to process things before continuing, "I know it's a lot to take in, but come with me and I'll help you out. Nice to have another Ore Towner at least in the mix."

Curt didn't realize how easy it was to get homesick when you were home just a day ago. He had shot and buried any hope that he'd meet another Duster, much less someone from the same town as him, in Sanora.

"Curt?" A loud call rang out somewhere among the carts and stalls. Celia was looking for him.

"Someone you know?" Otto asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Saved my life." Curt shrugged back.

"Well, I'll be leaving here in the evening. Meet me back here when you've wrapped things up here and we'll be off." Otto headed back to the front of the cart to peddle his firearms to peaceful peasants, leaving Curt alone with his thoughts.

---

It wasn't like Curt had much to pack. He stuffed his old Duster clothes — freshly laundered by Celia earlier that day with even a few patches to close up the worst of the holes — and a small pouch containing coins of Sanora's currency. Curt hated charity, but Luke waved away Curt's protests and forced him to accept the money.

"It's not much anyways," Luke had said. "Good for a few meals. Not like I'm hurting for money too."

And so, Curt set off back to the village center to catch his ride with Otto. A teary-eyed Celia nearly hugged the life out of him as he said his goodbyes.

"You said you'd tell me stories about your home," she wept, staining the front of his borrowed shirt (which Luke refused to take back, stating that Curt's old clothes made him look like a brigand).

"I will, next time I see you," Curt said. "Otto swings by to sell wares here every now and then, and I'll be around when he does."

Luke helped pull Celia back, and said, "It's good that you found a job so quickly. Remember, if you ever need a place to stay or anything, we'll be right here in Gold Glade."

Curt thanked him for the offer, and left without looking back.

At the center, Otto was waiting for him like he said he would. "Glad you showed up," said Otto with a smile, flicking the ash from his cigarette.

"Seems better than wandering this world blind," Curt said, hopping into the cart as Otto readied the horses. "You've been here for thirteen years, right?"

"Yep, and I'm sure you got a lotta questions for me. And I can answer 'em," Otto replied as the horses began to trot out of the village. "Sure is nice to have someone to talk to along the road. It'll be about two days 'til we get to the capital. That's where our base of operations is at."

"Base of operations?"

"Yeah, with you now in the mix, it'll be the three of us."

"Wait — Did you just say, three?" Curt turned to look at Otto's face.

Otto at least had the grace to look a bit sheepish. "A handful sounded better than three, but yeah. It'll be you, me, and Kirina. Don't worry though," he said, holding up a hand upon seeing Curt's expression. "What I said about helping you get settled in was no lie. Swear on a bullet."

Curt just sighed. He couldn't blame Otto. If he were in the same position, he'd probably pull a little white lie to make another Duster join in.

"Anyways," Otto continued on. "I've got big plans for us, you see. I just needed at least another guy I can count on. That I can trust. And I got a feelin' that I can trust you. You see, I'm planning on starting a guild. And I want you to be my second-in-command."