The girl from Earth

They pushed their plates back with the scrape of wood on wood, the tavern’s common room slowly emptying around them. The last stragglers muttered over mugs, and Maressa was already stacking stools in the far corner.

Tia’s knee bounced under the table. She caught herself, pressed both palms flat, then stood too fast. “Um. Could we – ” Her throat caught. She forced a swallow. “Could we go upstairs? I… there’s something I need to say. To all of you.”

The words came out heavier than she’d meant. The others exchanged glances – curiosity, concern – but none of them objected. Chairs scraped, boots shuffled, and together they climbed the narrow stairs to their room.

Inside, the air was close, still faint with last night’s smoke and soap. The beds looked too neat, tucked corners betraying Maressa’s tidy hand. Tia paced once across the boards, turned back. Her pulse hammered, her tongue felt swollen. They were all watching her, quiet. Waiting.

She twisted her fingers together, then forced them apart. “Okay. Right. So…” She breathed out hard. “This is going to sound insane. Like, really insane. But I need to say it, because I’m tired of pretending, and I don’t… I don’t want there to be secrets anymore.”

The room stayed hushed. Rika leaned back against her bunk, arms folded, guarded but listening. Corin sat forward, brows drawn, still pale from earlier. Vesh’s frill twitched faint interest, and Balthan – steady as stone – just inclined his head.

Tia pressed a hand to her chest. It felt like prying the words out of a locked box. “I’m not from here. Not from the Dominion. Not even from this world.”

Silence pressed back, thick as wool. She closed her eyes and let the rest spill.

“I’m from a place called Earth. It’s… different. No guild marks, no magic. Just ordinary people, cities with cars, streets lit by glass bulbs, boxes that sing when you push a button. My family’s there – my mom, my dad, my sister. I was supposed to be doing find a job, fighting with my sister over who got the remote. Just… normal, stupid stuff.” Her throat tightened. “Then I blinked, and I was standing in this endless white nothing on night. A self-proclaimed god was there – I suppose L’ile. Said things I barely understood. And then – poof. I was here. Grasslands, cold wind, no food, no clue what was happening.”

Her hands shook. She shoved them into her cloak. “That first night I thought it was a dream. Monsters snarling out in the dark, my stomach twisting with hunger, mud in my hair – I kept telling myself I’d wake up any second. But I didn’t. I nearly froze. And then I saw smoke on the horizon. You.”

Her gaze lifted, sweeping over each of them. “You saved me. You didn’t know it, but you did. If I hadn’t stumbled into you, I’d be dead by now. No question.”

Her chest ached, words tumbling faster. “I’ve been trying to play it off, to just… go along. To act like I belong here. But I don’t know your gods, or your history, or how half your money works. I’ve been scared out of my mind, making stupid jokes so I don’t cry. And when the guards talk about Blank Marks and traitors, I feel like they’re talking straight to me. Like they know.”

The boards creaked under her restless pacing. “I do want to go home. I miss my family so much it hurts. That’s why I’ve been so desperate about magic, about teleportation. It’s my one shot. But at the same time…” Her voice broke, she forced it steady. “…I don’t want to lose this. You. This stupid, messy, wonderful group. You’ve been my only anchor, and I don’t–”

Her throat closed. She swiped at her eyes, breath ragged. “I don’t want you to think I don’t care. Because I do. More than I ever thought I could in such a short time. You’re my friends. You’re everything keeping me from falling apart.”

Tia stopped, air shuddering from her lungs. Her confession hung in the stillness, raw and trembling, filling the little room like a storm that had finally broken.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. The room was so quiet Tia swore they must hear the hammering of her pulse.

Corin’s mouth opened first, then shut again. He stared down at his hands, fingers flexing against the red leather of his tome. Finally, his voice came low, almost hoarse. “That’s… impossible.” His brows pinched tight. “Worlds beyond our own, people pulled through nothingness… it sounds like a fever dream.”

He glanced up – just once – at Tia’s wet eyes, then dropped his gaze again. His lips pressed thin. “And yet… it explains everything. Your clothes, your words, the way you look at things like they’re half familiar and half terrifying.” His hand tightened on the book until his knuckles went white. “I want to doubt you. But I can’t.”

Rika had been watching without a word, arms folded, tail curled tight around her leg. Her ears were flat, unreadable. She inhaled sharply through her nose, then spoke with measured calm. “You should have told us earlier.”

The words stung, but her tone wasn’t angry. Rika shifted, tail loosening a fraction. “I thought you were hiding something. I thought maybe you didn’t trust us, or worse, that you were laughing at us behind our backs. But…” She leaned forward, studying Tia’s face. “I see it now. The way it burned to say this. You’ve been carrying that weight all along.”

Her shoulders softened. “I understand. I don’t like that you lied. But I understand why.”

Vesh let out a slow, clicking exhale, frill twitching faintly. “I had my suspicions,” he admitted, tone more thoughtful than surprised. “The way you stumbled over our coinage. The way you asked what seemed like obvious questions. At first I thought you’d simply been raised in some cloister with no contact to the world. But this…” His yellow eyes gleamed. “This is far more interesting.”

He tilted his head, studying her with something like admiration. “Dragged through voids, touched by gods, branded with a Blank Mark. If anything, I’d say your story elevates you, not diminishes.”

Balthan had stayed silent the longest, his big hands steepled before his mouth. Now he let them fall and spoke in that steady, gravel-deep voice. “When we first met you, girl, I knew you were lost. Not just on the road, but here – ” he tapped his chest “ – in the heart. I didn’t care where you came from. I cared that you were cold and scared and needed a fire.”

He looked around the little circle of faces, then back to Tia. “I care the same now. You’re one of us. If your path leads back to your family someday, we’ll face that when it comes. But until then…” He spread his hand, palm up, like setting an anchor in place. “You belong here. With us.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy anymore. It was warm, full, the kind that hummed with something unspoken.

Tia’s throat tightened all over again. She laughed weakly, swiping her sleeve across her eyes. “Gods, you guys… I was so scared you’d throw me out, or – or hate me. I dont know, give me to the guards.”

Rika shook her head, tail flicking once. “Idiot,” she muttered, but the word was soft.

And then, without ceremony, without anyone saying it, the space between them closed. Corin stood first, hesitant, as if stepping into cold water. Rika moved next, more briskly, and Balthan’s heavy frame followed, Vesh gliding in with a rustle of cloth.

It wasn’t a perfect hug – too many limbs, Corin awkward with where to put his hands, Rika stiff at first. But it was real. Warm. A tangle of arms and cloaks and breath, and Tia in the middle, crushed between them and not caring one bit.

For the first time in what felt like forever, her chest eased. The secret was gone. And she wasn’t alone anymore.