“A skunk-man!” Redshirt shouted his second thought.

“While they do share many physical similarities with a skunk, he is a badger, though with the growth of cross discipline zoological study, new information is being discovered about the genders of animals, therefore man may be the incorrect term to refer to this fine gentle-badger.”

“My bad gentle-badger.” Redshirt spoke up after listening to Filo’s explanation.

The badger stared at the two for a few moments in silence, before blinking and continuing on as if the prior conversation did not occur, “yes, I did create circumstances that would ensure The Philosopher would meet The Redshirt, the future is clear to me, and single stick in the right place can move a mountain.” The badger continued on, slowly advancing towards the pair, “I, The Mayor of Mayors, Sir Archibald Clawsborne demand you follow me.”

“Alright boss man, where too?”

Sir Archibald Clawsborne paused once again ”Alright not entirely unexpected,” the badger muttered then turned to speak to Filo, “no objections from you Philosopher, not even a question?” Archibald asked almost desperate.

“Not at all Sir Archibald, a gentleman can always recognise a fellow gentle-being” Filo spoke doing an intricate bow.

Sir Archibald bowed back still bewildered. “Come along then.”

The badger turned and began to walk back into the now slightly brighter forest, behind his back, Redshirt gestured to Filo about whether they should run, Filo indicated that it was Redshirts choice.

Redshirt paused, turned, and bit his lip.

He brought out a coin, flipped it, then the small bronze coin landed, he shrugged, and they followed Sir Archibald.

For a few minutes they followed in silence. Now on the other side of the light road, far away from that clearing they woke up in, the forest Archibald led them too was wet, uneven, and unchecked. They clambered over giant fallen trees, the thick brown bark hosting an enormous amount and a great variety of life, grasping onto the bark, a thick yellow spider clambered onto Sir Archibald back, the spider was much larger than any insect had a right to be, though the spider did not seem to care about petty human thoughts such as physics. Then the spider reared back it's forearm length mandibles glowing in the morning light, Filo jumped backwards and landed in a crouched stance, on the balls of his feet and his hands open palmed, knife-like, all the while Redshirt belted out a high pitched continous scream.

A single drop of green venom dropped from the yellow spiders mandible's. The venom sizzled on Sir Archibald's back and bleached a spot of his fur.

Sir Archibald took a single measured step left, then suddenly a thin beaked bird came flying down from the canopy and ripped the spider of his back.

“Do you recognise my power now?” Sir Archibald asked, his black eyes glinting in the dawn.

“Pretty cool.” Redshirt had no clue on what had just happened so he once again reverted to the classic British tradition, lying politely.

“Quite so.” Filo continued with what seemed to be a mix of genuine interest and confusion, though even to Redshirt it may have come across as a tad disingenuous.

Once again, the badger paused. Unfortunately, Sir Archibald had never seen a car, nor an overly proud uncle with such car, but if he had he would have recognised that both Redshirt and Filo were responding to a walking, talking, prophetic, giant badger, with the same polite disinterest that the overly proud uncle would receive when blathering on about his new car.

Of course, Sir Archibald did not have this frame of reference, so he sighed and continued his now very dejected walk back to his quaint forest estate. Sullenly he dragged his feet across the detritus that comprised the forest floor.

The three walked on in silence until the dawn’s light was truly slipping through the thick trees, as they walked the trees grew and larger and thicker, until finally they stood before one such tree, that stood defiantly against the wind, reaching to the sky as if it wanted its very leaves too tickle a cloud’s beard.

Sir Archibald walked round the tree, pulled up a hatch and muttered, “We’re here now.”

Seeing Sir Archibald dejected state, Filo tried his best to improve his spirits, “Sir Archibald do not worry we both believe that your trick earlier, with the spider was very, nay incredibly impressive.”

Redshirt winced, and bit his lips trying to to hold in a small laugh.

“First of all, it was not a trick, I genuinely manipulated the very space time continuum to ensure that the sp…” Sir Archibald sighed a deep, tired sigh, “Thank you Philosopher.”

Redshirt composing himself, after seeing Filo’s objectively terrible attempt at appeasing a prideful being such as Sir Archibald, spoke out loud, rather than to an individual, “Just because something is not understood, does not mean that something is not valuable nor worth understanding.” He did feel like a bit of a wanker for speaking in that way, but sometimes you gotta do, what you gotta do.

Sir Archibald’s tail unconsciously wagged for a moment or two, though only Redshirt saw, he did continue his sullen behaviour, though it now didn't seem to be so depressing, as Sir Archibald readily joined the conversation about if a falling tree would make a sound if no one was around to hear it.

Entering the abode, the climbed down a ladder, and found themselves upon thick mahogany floorboards, well not exactly floorboards, more like all around-you-boards, since the pieces of well fitted wood spiralled around tunnel, walking through the underground den, little knick-knacks dotted the walls, shelves, and cabinets, as other upright animals such as moles, voles, and mice tottered around relaxed, laughing, and feasting, a few even waved over to Redshirt and Filo, though every single one bowed deeply to Sir Archibald, who immediately asked them to stand, and began quick yet meaningful conversations with each of his people.

They eventually came to a sitting room, a soft blaze crackling in a fireplace. The cozy room was filled with dozens of forest creatures, though these people all seemed to be either incredibly young, or incredibly old, still who was Redshirt to judge.

“You have a very nice home Sir.” Filo huffed while bench pressing a toy horse on which sat a giggling pair of vole children.

Laughing Archibald responded, “Thank you good fellow, yet it is only my tertiary early Spring home.”

Damm he a big baller Redshirt thought to himself, looking around as a table was set, a variety of dishes were placed on the table, fruit platters arranged in fanciful patterns, nuts piled in the shapes of swords and building, and even a great bear made out of almonds that all the children devoured before it was set down, and fried balls of meat placed over spiced herbs that wafts a delicious smell over the large table. All in the house helped to prepare, though Redshirt and Filo were forced to sit down by a mouse matriarch called Melissa.

She walked with a clacking cane, as she gave Sir Archibald a soft clout round the ears and said, “Out of my seat you big oaf.”

Standing and drawing the cushioned seat out, so Mother Melissa could sit easier, Archibald spoke in a false whine, “Please Mother Melissa, you are embarrassing me, in front of such fine company, look from another world, The Philosopher and The Redshirt.”

The children in the room oohed and aahed, then promptly went back to eating.

“Embarrassing,” she huffed, “I was wiping your behind while you were a snivelling Badglet, now sit and eat.” Archibald sat and she turned to pair from Earth, “From another world?” She asked clearly rhetorically.

“Ye- “Still Filo began to speak.

“Fools, do they not know how to name their young over there, The Philosopher and The Redshirt.” She huffed again, then picked up one of the balls of fried meat that the pair was devouring, “I did not know that humans enjoy such delicacies.” With her calloused paws, she cracked the ball and pulled out a thankfully cooked earthworm. Mother Melissa popped the worm into her toothless mouth and gummed loudly, letting the head of the worm drop from her mouth. During this she peered deeply at both Redshirt and Filo.

Filo blanched for a moment, paused, then spoke, “In some cultures insects are a staple food,” cracking the fried ball in a manner similar to the Mother, “and to be honest your food is more likely to be ethically sourced than the food back on Earth.”

Mother Mellissa hummed thoughtfully and turned to Redshirt who was still steadily munching upon all the dishes arrayed in front of him.

“Never say no to nothing free.” He declared after washing down his food with a mug of clear water.

Apart from pig, Redshirt could not help but think about the fact that, If I had one wish in this world, it would not be to go home, rather I would wish for the total and complete destruction of every single pig in existence down to the very memory of such a –“

Mother Melissa suddenly broke eye contact and leaned backwards, Redshirt always prided himself on his ability of keeping his thought of his face, yet it seems he let something slip. He banished these thoughts and smiled at the Mother.

Her eyes were back on Redshirt and she simply smiled back with her toothless mouth.

Tapping her cane on the floor, the bubbling conversations fizzled out and the room turned towards the stern matriarch, “Little ones please pack the food away, and begin on your chores, Shirley, Sarah, Shioban- “she took a breath listening as Redshirt tried to whisper a set of rowdy vole twins.

“Pimbob, Bimpop, hey, hey, save me a plate please, actually two plates,” looking at the absolute piles of leftovers that the children were carrying back into the cellar, “you know what lads just get me as much as you can.” The two brown and black spotted vole boys giggled as they listened.

Mother Matriarch allowed herself a soft smile, then continued on “I heard some rattling by the door, go on and protect this old woman, take the rest of these layabouts with you.” She pointed around the room at the various mice, voles, badgers, and a smattering of other oversized herbivores finished of their drinks.

Shirley, Sarah, and Shioban, the only adults in the room, corralled the numerous teenagers and bumptious young adults out, as they protested in the way all young did when they thought they should listen to adult conversations.

As a headstrong young mouse called Martin was finally dragged out of the room by Shioban, Mother Mellissa locked eyes with Archibald.

For a few minutes the room was completely silent, as Archibald and Mellissa had a telepathic argument, this argument was incredibly broad, deep, and encapsulated the socio-political landscape of the world that the Earthers found themselves in.

Of course, Filo and Redshirt had neither the ability nor the want to listen into the conversation, as the two were playing a riveting but silent game of thumb war.

“Fox-fire!” Sir Archibald stood up and walked to the window, “we need someone in there to avert the coming storm.” He continued gesturing in the direction of the castle, the shining lights could still be seen over the horizon.

“No one can defeat a storm, only weather it.” She said lost in thought, “You want a simple sword, yet they have potential like a slab of rock, it will be a waste to let them conform to the Dawn ‘Empire’” she harrumphed “archaic categorisations, Knight, Cataphract, Mage, stunting potential for fancy titles, fools.” Seeing Archibald about to interrupt Mother Melissa continued “look now there’s hundreds of these Outworlders who can do represent our interest in that backwards palace.”

“Yes, but will they do it well?”

“A simple deception will ensure they will.” She paused thinking, “Send Martin and a few of the other restless young, preferably from the Weasels and the Otters, and make sure we have a ward or two from each clan, nonetheless you will lead this group to a similarly reckless group of the Outworlder young, a few hints about a quest, guide them, keep them safe, reward them with some of the equipment from the Old Days,” her eyes glaze over for a half-moment “then you have a loyal team to send into the palace, still with all the potential of the Outworlders, well as much as those coddled children can have.” She finished waiting to hear Archibald’s response.

“Mother Mellissa you are a pot calling a kettle black; all of the next generation are coddled.”

“Can you blame us after what we went through?”

“No.” Archibald said solemnly.

They both drifted off into silence for a few minutes, looking around the warm dining room as if it did not exist and they were in another place, in another time.

Filo went to speak, probably going to try make the two laugh, but Redshirt reached out and placed a hand on Filo’s thigh gesturing for both of them to be silent.

Eventually they broke out of their spell, and continued to conversation where they left it.

“The Maddox Otters have overly dammed the Rhew, I’ll investigate the merchants who paid them, and let the kids deal with getting the river flowing again.” Sir Archibald relented sitting down and coming back to the present.

“Whatever you think is best.” Mother Melissa nodded her energy already draining, still she beckoned Filo and Redshirt over to her, “Come my eyes are not as good as they used to be.”

Holding the chins of the two, she inspected their faces, her calloused hands scratching on Redshirts growing beard. “Would you be willing to break the law, go against the morals of the majority, be seen as evil.”

“All three concepts are entirely subjective and shaped by society, the very existence of law can be seen as evil in some societies, Redshirt, and I’s very presence here could even be illegal. So, I have my own morals, it is open to change but fundamentally they are mine.” The Philosopher spoke with practiced acumen.

“If it gets me home, then it’s already done.” He spoke nonchalantly, using a napkin to wipe the pastry crumbs of his face, “but, we won’t take no enjoyment out of it.” They both nodded along.

“Good, both of you are now members of Dawn Empire’s military.” Mother Melissa declared sending out Archibald.

“Pardon, but we both explicitly said we have no respect for any form of authority or institution.” Filo questioned.

“Do not worry, you both will be officers in a special unit within the Dawn Empire, I have said it so it will be so.”

Archibald walked back in carrying an oak box, the wood was well worn, and the metal clasp was scuffed and scratched. Flipping the lid, a pair of metal suits of armour shone, the metal was silvery white and seemed to drink the very light from the air.

Picking up the full-face helmet Melissa spoke “Palladium, seen as weak physically, an anti-magic metal, I could bore you with how it saved us in the great war, the respect that beings wearing this armour had, even the method of construction which were both great and terrible, but at the end of the day it’s now seen as a curious antique with the waning of magic. Still, it is yours, you are both Paladin’s of the Dawn Empire.” The mother coughed and took a deep sip of a syrupy drink, “After you have acquainted yourself with your mostly ceremonial role, the Mantis will call upon your services, listen to him but do not speak of us. A mantis he is, yet our goals align for now.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think there was a secret cabal of talking, telepathic animals running the world.” Filo laughed out as he put the helmet on.

The room went silent.

Filo continued to put on his armour in ignorance, as Mother Melissa and Sir Archibald shared a look.

Breaking the icy silence, “What a bad joke, Filo.” Squeezing his shoulder through the Palladium embossed cloak, “Good thing we will never, ever, ever make the joke again, or even think about such a fake scenario.”

Mother Melissa huffed and handed Redshirt his own set of Palladium armour.