Book 1, Verse 6

Vivian led me a little farther down the path, closer to the town.

“If anyone asks, you’re a travelling wizard.” She said quickly.

“Understood.”

“And the reason you can’t cast spells is because you’re out of mirra.”

“What’s meer-ah?”

Vivian opened her mouth in shock, then remembered my ‘monastic upbringing.’

“Mirra! It’s what everyone uses to cast spells! Just say you’re out of it for the day.”

“Okay.” I said, nodding.

Spells? Why wasn’t my dad here instead of me, he’d love this place.

As we stepped into the town, she turned to face me and gave a half-hearted gesture at the scene unfolding behind her.

“Welcome to Clearwood.” She said plainly.

I raised an eyebrow at Vivian.

“I didn’t choose the name.” She narrowed her sea-blue eyes and scanned the streets. “Let’s see, what day is it again?” She bit her lip and stood on her toes, making herself even taller than she already was. “Right. Arday. That might be a bit of an issue.”

She stopped using her toes for that extra bit of height and looked at me.

“Why is that?”

“You don’t have any qualms with drinking, do you? One of the other priests I met said that it was sinful.” She asked with a slightly concerned look on her face. She crossed her lithe arms over her chest and pursed her lips. “Because you’ll need to be able to drink if we’re going to get you to the guy you need.”

I rolled my eyes.

I had this speech memorized from how often John gave it.

“Drinking, in and of itself, is not sinful; it’s overindulgence to the point of drunkenness that is the problem. I can handle my liquor and–”

“Great! Don’t need all the details.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me down the main street of the town.

My eyes were quickly assailed with all kinds of information that I was sure would make logical sense… eventually.

Sights like a dwarf and a human arguing over the price of a loaf of bread; some kind of man with bat ears with large pieces of cotton wadded up in them; an elf sitting on top of one of the buildings with something that looked like a fiddle and singing.

I should’ve paid more attention to my dad’s bedtime stories.

“W-wait, why does he have bat ears? And how can I hear the fiddle music over the rest of the noise? And why is–”

“All questions that Niels will be able to answer.” Vivian said curtly as we shoved past a human woman selling small crystals.

We stopped in front of a strange building. It was made of the same oak-like wooden planks as every other building in the town, but it was painted with vibrant colors and had a large sign that was a flat cut from a log painted with what I assumed was the place’s name.

The writing didn’t look like English.

“I… I can’t read that.” I said.

“Wait, what?” Vivian turned to look at me. “What do you mean you can’t read that?! That’s just basic Ozni!”

“O-Ozni?”

“Yes! Ozni! The language we’re speaking right now!”

“We are?”

It only now occurred to me to wonder how I had understood her. This was a different world, with a completely different history. Logically, there was no way we could speak the same language! The odds of that happening were so low they were basically zero!

“Yes!” She sounded exasperated and was running her delicate hands through her hair. She sighed and calmed down. “How on Firma did you survive this long?”

“W-we didn’t call it Ozni in the monastery. It was just taught to us at… at an, uh, early age?”

“Then how can you not read the sign?” Vivian narrowed her eyes at me in disbelief.

“I, I don’t know! I swear!” I shut my eyes tight and covered my head.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” She leaned down over me.

I whispered a silent prayer for something to happen that would help me get out of this situation.

My eyes flew open and I looked at the sign again.

“‘Niels’ Meals.’ The sign says ‘Niels' Meals.’” I said calmly.

Vivian rolled her eyes.

“Was that a joke?” Vivian said, annoyed. “Because it wasn’t funny.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other.

What had just happened?

“Get inside Shinko.” She shoved me into the building. I didn’t resist.

The interior had an authentic rustic charm to it. There was a wall full of barrels of various types of alcohol with a bar in front of them, as well as a few tables on the other side of the interior. The bartender was involved in a conversation with a human woman who was way too hammered for the early noon.

“Hey Niels! I got someone for you.” Vivian pointed at me.

“I hope this isn’t another one of your work friends Vivian. Last time he made off with a barrel of my most expensive brew.” He sounded very annoyed when he caught sight of the two of us.

Niels was average height, maybe a little bit taller than I was. He had pointed elven ears and a small nose, with pale blond hair that was cut short.

“That was one time, Niels. You can’t hold onto that forever.” Vivian said calmly as she walked the two of us over to the bar.

“Yes I can! Do you realize how much that single barrel cost me?!”

The noise of their argument faded into the background as I stood next to Vivian.

I needed to think logically about things.

One moment, I couldn’t read that sign.

The next moment, it was as clear as English.

What had happened to change that?

The realization hit me like a punch in the face.

I had prayed.