The Hut of Beginnings

Lia opened her eyes, thinking, I can’t remember going to bed, and worried that she had memory loss. “But I wasn’t drinking either. Was I?” No, she didn’t feel the gruesome headache of a hangover. As she sat up, her back hurt from the rectangular tiles that made up the floor. Her gaze shifted towards Sarran, who stood next to a simple open door made from planks nailed together.

She hoped he could give her an answer. “What’s going on?”

He averted his gaze from the outside world. “I hoped you could tell me.”

The ground reflected the orange shine of the morning sun that illuminated the hut by shining through a simple window. It was cold, so Lia got to her feed. As she did, she noted that she wasn’t wearing her comfy sweatsuit anymore, but slim linen trousers and a leather jacket that covered her arms, but only reached to her waist. A white shirt dealt with the rest. It was her character Elana’s hunting outfit.

“Just as I left my apartment to go shopping, my head spun and then… well I suppose I must have blacked out.” He didn’t seem to be particularly scared of the fact that they could have been kidnapped. Tugging at his bright grey robe, he sighed: “At least I am lucky that this happened after locking the door.”

Lia started to ignore him. What just happened?  The problem solver inside her wasn’t fond of too much chatter. What mattered was intel.

“We randomly woke up in an unfamiliar place with no idea of how we got here. We wear our character’s…” As she turned around, she couldn’t see anyone else. “Sarran, did you play the game before you lost consciousness?”

He nodded. “The supermarket was only five minutes away, so I didn’t shut my computer down.”

Her heartbeat raised. If playing the game was the reason. Then… “Where is Tharamir?”

Finally getting useful, Sarran pointed across the room. An egg made of bluish translucent crystal lay there.

Carefully, Lia approached it. She whispered: “Maybe that’s him. Just, uhm, different?” There was no life inside, only ashes.

Sarran stated the obvious: “That is him”.

“But…” A few droplets of sweat run down her face. Her companions awkward attempt of calming her down with a pat on the shoulder prevented a panic attack.

Lia, or “Elana” furrowed her brows. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “He had a resurrection ability. Not sure exactly, but it needed about a week to work.”

Then she added that if they have actually become their characters, Tharamir wouldn’t stay dead for long. It’s just that she had no way to know for sure, but wait. And even then, what if she was wrong? How long could she wait?

Heavy steps penetrated the small hut, causing loud echoes that made Lia’s and Sarran’s ears hurt. Two guards in heavy medieval armor carrying sharp pikes longer than themselves came through the door. They didn’t demand the duo to surrender, nor even to explain themselves. Instead, they divided the room in two parts, with another figure taking position on the larger side. He wore a heavy dark red cape and black robes embroidered with a golden snakelike dragon . He was flanked by five additional people, all clothed in colourful uniforms, which seemed to be a mix of medieval and industrial style.

One of them, bearing not the head of a human but that of a deeply dark green scaled lizard, began to speak in a deep croakily voice: “Be greeted, strangers. This is the hut of arrival as denoted by the prophecy that announced your trespassing of the boundaries between the worlds. Thus, we awaited your summoning by forces unbeknownst to us.

It is our lord Avenar who will now talk to you. Be sure to follow the minimum etiquette, which we now teach you: Never address his lordship with ‘you’. The failsafe option is always ‘milord’. Now hurry to bow or curtsy to him, who will from now on be your patron!”

Sarran unquestionably did as he was told just as if he did this a thousand times already. On the contrary, Lia had trouble taking in the information and simultaneously acting accordingly on the spot. Instead, she simply said, voice trembling: “H-Hello.”

The lizard man shot her an angry glance. The dark clothed figure stepped forward and put his hand to the lackey’s arm, cautioning him to calm down. After having gotten another step closer, Lia could see his pointed ears. An elf? Sure, just an elf…

He opened his mouth: “We are here to welcome you in my palace. I am the ruler of these lands in the vicinity of the great city of Desmen that you can see through this window.” He winked towards the small opening filled with a thin fragile piece of glass.

Lia muttered, “at least they are eager to explain the situation”, so silently that it was almost only a thought.

“Just recently, one of our seers told us that three people would be summoned to our word to this very place. Perhaps by nothing else but fate. Hm, it seems you are only two. Why is that?”

Sarran started to answer: “Our third companion is currently this egg. He will be with us soon…”

The old elf carefully examined the egg with eyes too good for his age.

“Are you sure?”, asked an elderly woman who stood behind one of the guards, “I have never seen such an egg. And shouldn’t he be human?”

Then, the lord coldly said: “Maybe we should sell this thing for another investment in our defenses. Master of treasury, how much could an auction yield? The material seems to be quite valuable and…”

This demanded instant intervention, urging Lia to raise her voice: “I know it doesn’t look like much, but he will soon be with us.”

The servants wrinkled their brows.

Hastily, she added “mi-milord”, performed a stiff courtesy and pleaded: “Only seven days. He won’t stay that way.”

“Ha! As a mage, I can sense that there is not even a soul in this!” The elven lord pointed at the crystalline egg. “Still, let us strike a deal. You work for me. I do not sell it. Otherworlders are said to have extraordinary value.” He held out a hand withered from unimaginably many decades.

He earned admiration from one of his henchmen: And another one bound on a short leash. Whip at the ready.