I feel it again, that deep feeling of constriction in my chest, as if a snake were wrapped around my heart. Images of a burning inn, bodies piled over tables, and blood on the floor. Then I see her, the one who still haunts my dreams. With that I wake up, my body covered in sweat and my heart rate and breath racing. Smokey snuggles into my arms and likes my hands.

“Good boy” I whisper while scratching his ear.” I’m glad I found you back when I was with the King’s Shadow.” He whimpers and lays his head down. I lay back and think about that dream. It has plagued me for close to a year now. Most people would seek help or talk about it, but I for some reason choose not to even think about it while conscious.

I sit next to the window, crack it open, and look at the night sky. It’s close to one in the morning, both my instinctive clock and the position of the two moons show that. I stare up at the bigger moon, its blue hue always soothed me. I remember back to my first night on this world. The idea of having two moons, one blue and the other grey, made me think that this world was full of beauty and peace. Reality quickly set in after that when I realized, though the world may seem different on the surface, below that magical surface was very similar to Earth.

I wake up the next morning to the sun’s rising rays and wonder when I dozed off. Smokey’s head lay on my lap and I flick his ear to wake him up. He opens his eyes and lifts his head so I can move. I walk towards the door and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

“Oh shit, I look pretty ragged don’t I?” I say and Smokey’s ears perk up at the word of omen I spoke. “I really never learn not to swear, you’d think after countless times of misfortune I’d at least learn to censor myself.” Back on Earth if you swore, you might get punished with a slap or bar of soap in the mouth. Here, however, it’s even worse. When you swear you get a literal curse of misfortune put on you. It was never major, maybe a pot fall on your head or getting hit by a rogue ball, but there are the special occasions when a monster attacks.

I admire the beard I’ve grown over my year of traveling in solitude, then exit the guest room. There waiting for me was the Winston family butler, Alfred, and let me tell you he and his name scream generic.

“Master Fletcher, I prepared breakfast for you and the Master of the house. Would you like me to escort you or do you think you remember where the dining room is?” He said in his apathetic butler voice.

“No Alfred, I believe I know my way” I say and walk past him.

Waiting for me at the massive twelve person table was a school uniform and a stack of books. The uniform had a white button up, black pants, and an overcoat, the only thing missing was tie. I pick it up and try the shirt on, it fitting me would have surprised me long ago, but I learned magic is used for trivial things like measuring people in their sleep. I hear the doors swing open and Arthur enters in his one piece nightgown.

“I assume the clothes fit you” he says while yawning. He gets a nod from me as an answer and continues.” study those books and learn everything you can, you’ll be at a disadvantage due to you only being able to use very basic spells.”

I wince, he doesn’t have to remind me at how bad I am with magic. I tried my hardest in the past but the best thing I could do was light hair on fire. Illusion magic seemed to be the only thing I can do past basic, but even that is only one step above basic.

“Why would you send one of the worst mages you’ve ever met to a prestigious school like Atwood?” I ask

“I have my own personal reasons for doing so, but I also can’t help but have the objective backing of your clean background as a protector.” He says with confidence.

It’s true that I haven’t failed a contract that involves protecting other, but my other contracts are far less perfect. My assassinations are sketchy and so is my espionage, but somehow I still make it out unscathed. Well mostly I should say.

“I have a feeling it will be a lot like when I went to school in my old world.” I say with a sigh. I remember how my hair and eyes would make me the butt of many jokes. Now it’ll be my skill as a mage.

“I thought you were over that nonsense tale of being from a different world. Besides they accept those who use magical weapons like that sword of yours.” He says with annoyance now.

I sigh and remember how very few people believed me when I said I was from another world, Arthur was obviously not one of them. I pick up the book on magic weapons and start it while eating breakfast. One thing I found very interesting about magic weapons were their interactions with mages of high skill. I hope this book gives me a better explanation than ”they just don’t mix.”

After finishing my food, I close the book and grab the rest of the pile. There were seven books in my hand. I made my way to the guest room wondering how I’m supposed to read all this.

Then the curse from before came back to haunt me, waiting in my room were eight more books. Each book equally thick.

“God Dammit”