Chapter Six?

  An Unexpected Journey

  Freya adjusted the belt holding her sword's sheath as she walked down the steps, it would take a little fiddling to get this right. She paused midway down, she had forgotten all about the description thing that the Gardener showed her. She put a hand on her sword and willed those first two pages to open a window.

  Item: The Bookworm's Second Hand Epee

  Description: A simple fencing Epee. A gift from an overqualified bartender for a college drop out who thinks ranking in the bottom ten percent during Olympic tryouts counts as 'almost making it to the Olympics'.

  Well fuck you too. Freya thought.

  Upon reaching the bottom of the steps she looked around, confused. The place was empty, well, mostly empty. The same elvish bartender gave her a wave while cleaning a glass. Then he pointed to the front door.

  Outside a crowd gathered around a man and a woman showboating with their weapons. The woman wielded a spear, its blade was almost black with a ripple pattern in the metal. Like Valyrian Steel in the Game of Thrones TV show. Freya narrowed her eyes, was that on purpose? And if it was, did the blade have similar qualities? How did someone imbue an object with magical properties?

  The man was swinging Scottish Claymore wildly, so wildly that he didn't realize when someone blew a whistle, signifying the start of whatever this was supposed to be. The woman leapt forward and cracked him in the head with the flat of the blade. His knees buckled, another man caught him, saving him from a face first fall into the dirt.

  The air stiffened. The doors behind Freya flew open with such force that they nearly flew off the hinges. The Gardener raged forward just as the man began to regain consciousness. She picked up the man, who by Freya's estimation was north of two hundred fifty pounds, with one hand.

  "No violence, means no violence. Leave that for the goddamn Wretches or the Valorians."

  The man grunted. "You said, not in your tavern."

  "I don't like word games." Wiry roots burst from the ground, binding the arms of the woman who was trying to slink away. The roots dragged her forward, tearing through the ground. "Sneaking outside like a couple teenagers to circumvent the rules is not something I find impressive. Fighting over petty disagreements from another world is beneath us."

  "You have no right to dictate that," The woman said straining against her bonds.

  The Gardener dropped the man and stepped nose to nose with the woman. The trees behind The Mind's Mirror shook. From within a reddish-grey scaled monster emerged. The creature stood on its hind legs, bringing its head level with the fourth floor of the Tavern. Vast wings unfurled from the creature's body, blocking out the sun.

  Freya gasped. "Holy hell." Then stumbled backward. A dragon, an honest to god, living, breathing dragon.

  A lot of the others followed suit. Evidently this thing was not a common sight. Its breath was suffocating, like hovering over a running car engine. The great beast huffed, jets of fire burst from it's crinkled nose. The Gardener gave the thing a quick glare.

  "I am calm."

  The dragon dropped to all four legs, shaking the whole of the forest. It huffed again, as if it didn't believe her. Could they speak? Were they communicating telepathically? Or was it just body language The Gardener was reading? The questions didn't remain in Freya's mind for long. Each slight movement the dragon made was entrancing. It looked like George R.R. Martin was wrong, dragons really did have four legs separate from the wings.

  The binds holding the woman loosened. She ripped her hands free, but the Gardener did not budge. "Every person to step foot in this forest, or in this tavern, does so at my pleasure. My right is a fact of this existence, built in to the foundations of this realm, as it was for the Enthusiast before me." The Gardener took a few steps back, then shook her head. "I've tried with you Isla." A number of runes appeared in the air around Isla. Her eyes widened, her mouth moved as if it was speaking, but she made no noise. "I repudiate you. As the steward of The Mind's Mirror I withdraw your invitation, and banish you from the tavern and its surrounding lands."

  The runes surrounding Isla burst with white light. She was gone.

  Nobody spoke as the Gardener turned on her heel and disappeared into the tavern. A few solemn nods were exchanged between people as they filed back in after her. The man who had been involved in the scrap hung his head low and started down the path to the Gate. Freya couldn't blame him.

  The dragon didn't go anywhere, instead it decided to curl up around the back corner of the tavern. Freya stared at the thing as it closed its eyes. So much had just happened, and she understood so little of it. Though one thing was certain, The Gardener seemed mild mannered, but she was not one to piss off.

  "You are the new one right?" A man's voice asked.

  Freya turned to find two people standing behind her. One was a tall man, dark skinned with kind eyes, his shoulder-blade length hair was tied back with a red and white ribbon. He wore light leather armor with bits of chainmail woven into tactical places. Next to him stood an equally tall fair skinned woman, who's clothing matched the man's perfectly. With one noted exception. The hilts of two swords peeked over her left shoulder.

  "I am. Is that…" Freya pointed at the two swords.

  The man answered for her. "Yes, she is cosplaying as a Witcher."

  The woman stomped on his foot in response. "They are actually a lot handier than you might assume."

  It almost looked as if the man was going to stomp on her foot in return, but a quick look at Freya seemed to make him think better of it. "Sorry. I'm Roman, my disagreeable associate here is Zora."

  Zora waved Roman off. "Ignore him, he is the disagreeable one. We are both new here, less than a year total. We remember how disorienting everything was."

  Freya smiled. "That's an understatement. I thought it was all a dream."

  "Until the tattoo," Roman said.

  "So it wasn't just me."

  Zora laughed. "Not at all."

  Freya gave the dragon one last look, then gave the duo all of her attention. "Any other surprises in store for me? I had to fake diarrhea at breakfast to explain the pain."

  "My parents caught it and just grounded me for a year." Roman said.

  He looked a little old to have his parents grounding him. Though Freya's appearance wasn't exactly a good representation of herself in the Source.

  Zora shook her head as if that was some unimaginable occurrence. "You are so unbelievably young."

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "Twenty is not that young."

  "Said like a true twenty year old."

  These two argued like a pair of middle school kids pretending not to be in love with each other.

  "Hello?" Freya chimed in.

  Zora slugged Roman. "Right. Yes there are plenty of surprises, but none that should affect you in the Source Realm."

  "That's a relief."

  There was a long silence. Freya wasn't sure if she should leave, or if they wanted to say something more to her. Thankfully Roman broke the silence. "You know, we are on break from Esselem right now. We were going to checkout Torozom if you wanted to come with."

  "Torozom?" Freya asked.

  "A loose region of cozy villages," Roman said. "The Professor founded a few cities there after he relinquished the Stewardship of The Mind's Mirror. It's said he replicated the village he based the Shire on, with a few extra fantastical elements of course."

  Freya's ears perked up at that. "The Professor, you mean Tolkien?"

  Zora waved her hand, as if trying to get her to stop. "Using their names is really not done here," she said.

  "But you said he based the Shire on his village. Who else could it be?"

  "That's not the point. If you wanted to find out who the Gardener was, the resources are out there. Same with the Storyteller and the Enthusiast. But those of us who do know, pretend not to out of respect."

  Great, new nonsensical cultural norms to follow. "How is that respect?"

  "This is a new world, based in large part on the one we hail from. But it is a separate thing. Effectively, we can be two different people. Everyone deserves that chance. And it doesn't help that the few cases of well known entities going by their own names pretty much always results in disaster."

  "I assume Roman and Zora aren't your real names then."

  Zora shrugged. "Zora is a different person than who I am in the Source World."

  "Why don't you have titles like the Gardener?"

  "Those are usually earned, didn't she explain that to you?"

  Suddenly Freya felt extremely self conscious about sharing her title. But something about their words stuck with her. This was a new world, she was a new person. All those mistakes she had made, all the bad habits she built up. This could be her chance to break all of it. Freya determined not to lie her way into a more comfortable situation this time. "No, she didn't. She just left a plaque on my door that said The Bookworm. So I figured everyone got one like that."

  "On your first night?" Zora asked, incredulous.

  Freya cringed, ready for the jealously.

  "We've got a celebrity in our own little adventuring party!"

  After a few congratulatory pats on the back, Freya found her nerves cooled. Despite not actually giving them an answer, Zora at least assumed she was joining them. The assumption was welcome. Visiting the Shire had always been something she wished she could do. Here was the closest thing that was possible to that, and these two were offering up the chance like it was nothing. This place was going to do wonders for her.

  #?

  Freya burst from the doors of the Mind's Mirror with a hefty leather bag slung over her shoulders. "Ready!"

  "That was quick," Zora said.

  "Anything to see the Shire soon as I can."

  "It isn't the Shire."

  "Right…" Freya trailed off, not the Shire. Just something inspired by it.

  Roman slapped her on the back, almost sending her and her heavy pack into the dirt. "Don't look so glum! You are you going to see a town built by The Professor himself."

  There was so much history to uncover in this world. Freya knew basically nothing save for the tidbits others had mentioned around her. The Imperium,

  Hathmore, the Bluffs, Torozom, Esselem. Even after years of memorizing place names in her favorite novels, she found it was a little hard to keep everything straight. How much world was out there?

  Only one way to find out.

  The trio started on the road for Torozom. Freya spent the first few minutes looking out for any strange wildlife. A small rabbit with a set of horns crossed their path. It stopped to look at them for a moment before bounding off into the woods.

  "There isn't anything too crazy around here. The Gardener moved The Mind's Mirror so newcomers weren't running out and getting smoked by dire wolves," Roman said.

  Dire wolves, noted. Freya thought. "She moved it?"

  Zora nodded. "Yeah the Tavern keepers can move it every few years if they want. Some Keepers move it as often as they can. But it's been at Red Lake for seven years now. Half the time the Gardener has been the Keeper."

  "But you've been here less than a year?"

  "Correct. Esselem's professors are the best this side of the Shrinking Sea. They do a great job filling you in. You should enroll!"

  Freya's heartbeat quickened. School? When she had done such a bang up job before? "I don't know."

  "It really is incredible. The closest thing to being at Hogwarts you're likely to experience. What are you afraid of?"

  Failure, looking stupid, alienating friends and mentors. Freya had to remind herself of the promise she made to herself. New world, new perspective. "I can't just enroll in the middle of the Semester."

  "It doesn't work like that here. Esselem doesn't give degrees in Created World Studies or Word Mastery. There are no weed out classes or easy credits. There is only learning."

  No degrees, no mindless classes just to justify your tuition, only learning. Now that could be something Freya would get behind.

  "And you attend too?" Freya asked, gesturing toward Roman.

  "I do. On the whole Zora's right. You have a few hardasses-"

  Zora huffed. "Vaelin."

  Roman continued as if she didn't interrupt. "Some people probably shouldn't be allowed anywhere near students. But the vast majority of the staff are kind and energetic about their lessons."

  "And the other students?" That had never been a problem for Freya, but it didn't hurt to ask. What if there was a bunch of Islas?

  "You can't get along with everyone," Zora said with a flap of the hands. "You don't have hoards of Business or Communications majors suffering through their courses with dreams of what their paychecks will look like. Everyone who is there genuinely wants to be there."

  That last bit struck Freya especially hard. Was that her in college? A marketing major with no true passion or interest in the classes? It sure as shit seemed so. Maybe that was what went wrong. She didn't care about the learning, she only cared what that hallowed piece of paper could do for her.

  Just her second day in the Created Realm and she was already beginning to understand why her life had gone so wrong.

  "How do I enroll?"