Real World (in)Experiences

I was finally out and in the world. A world I had created over twenty-four painstaking years. Sure, the other guy supposedly did it in seven days, but he left out magic—and dragons. Regardless, no longer was Esseria words on a page. It was real, and I was walking its streets. Me!

Taking a deep breath in, I inhaled the fresh coastal air outside the shoppe. With a step into the light, I felt the warmth of the sun on my face. Yet, even with my eyes closed, I immediately began to notice something horribly wrong.

Why’d I write this sun to be so godsdamn bright? I thought as the glare pierced my eyelids.

Strong enough to bleach bones, I said. Yeah, I would say. Okay, I get it now. I made the sun—Too. Damn. Sunny!

I tried to adjust my eyes against the brightness of the mid-morning glare. Holding a hand up to shield my face, which should have been accustomed to this world, did little to save my retina.

It felt as though the signals between my eyeballs and brain had lost something in the reincarnation process.

“Watch out!” A student's voice cried, and I turned to face the call.

If I could have seen in this moment, I would have undoubtedly noticed the stray bolt of ice that cut through the air. It would have been fairly obvious as it glistened in the sun, leaving a vapour trail behind it. A small comet speeding down the cobblestone streets of this port town at the edge of a desert continent.

But I didn’t see it because the sun had instantly blinded me the moment I dared to step outside. So, at present, it was less about what I saw and more about what I felt.

It was as though someone had taken an aluminum bat and left it in a deep freeze for a day before remembering that they wanted to beat my ass with it. The chilling blow hit me square in the lower gut, not so low as to hit the precious bits, but enough to cause me to crumple over the strike instinctively.

“Uhhnngg!” I whined as I collapsed to the ground in a miserable heap.

“Oh crap,” The voice called out and then laughed. “I said watch out, kid.”

“Hey, let’s get out of here before his parents show up!" Another spoke up, “For your trouble, poh’vert.”

A coin hit my head as footsteps raced away with joyous laughter in their wake. Meanwhile, I lay there long enough to hear their giggles vanish and the sound of the square pick up again.

No one came to help me, which made sense. I wrote this world to be cruel and thankless. After countless cataclysms razing reality time and again, all that remained were tough landscapes and tougher residents. If you couldn’t help yourself—well, you were essentially doomed.

Sitting up, I opened my adjusted eyes and looked at the gold coin that had been flicked at my face. Slowly reaching out and taking it into my hand, I glanced around for my assailant. But they had already long gone.

A single gold piece was equal to a year's wages for the lowest-class mundane people—the non-magical residents of the world—and it didn’t even provide enough for them to survive. Five hundred of those same coins could buy the magical amulet of stabilization that I had gotten with my Phyllis voucher. And some rich brat just magic-spelled a random kid and tossed out the gold piece like nothing.

Little fugger. I thought to myself. But don’t mind if I do.

Pocketing the coin, I reached into my endless bag and pulled out one of the lowest-level healing potions in my collection. All it took was a simple thought to call it from the bottomless pit on my hip, and the next thing I knew, I was lifting the bottle to my lips.

With a swig of the thick peppermint-flavoured liquid—which tasted suspiciously like schnapps—I was healed once more. Instantly, the pain in my gut was gone, and the bruising that had already appeared had faded to nearly nothing.

Man, that’s great! I thought with a satisfying breath.

Healing potions rock! And I could really get used to this flavour. Goodbye, crappy healthcare system. Oh no, the socialist healing potions—

“Bwahahaha.” I laughed to myself maniacally from my seat in the middle of the square.

Finally, now adjusted to the worst mid-morning light imaginable, I was able to see well enough to move. Not wanting to waste this moment of relative comfort before the afternoon sun assaulted me, I took off towards the magical academy that this island had been raised from the ocean to hold.

The edge of the American Frontier style port town of Dwindlefyre was just a few houses away, making it easy for me to duck through the narrow alleys I had only ever imagined from the top down. Reaching the cliff that separated me and the academy, I was met with the six hundred feet of switchback path that climbed up the relatively sheer rockface.

Let’s do this!

The walk from Dwindlefyre was lovely. As I rose above the buildings, a comforting coastal breeze began to counteract the effects of the burning sun. The tantalizing smells of nearby bakeries carried on the wind, bringing thoughts of fresh pastries that I knew could improve the worst day.

And when I finally reached the top, I took a moment to catch my breath. Looking back over the town and ocean, I marvelled at the deep blue water that sparkled in the light as gentle white caps marked the slightest disturbances.

From this position, I could see four mighty galleons entering the port. And, even from here, it was easy to tell that students were already on deck, eager to begin their year of magical study.

My vision shifted to look farther beyond where, peeking just over the horizon, the faintest glimmer of Sutin’eli, the Governmental Capital of Moal’aw, could be seen. My heart began to race as memories of fingers clacking against keys came to mind.

Bah-dump! Bah-dump! Bah-dump!

I instinctively grabbed at my chest, clutching at the leather armour as my knees wobbled.

Crap. I thought as tears formed. They raced down my cheeks as I firmly locked my eyes on the doomed city.

Today is the equinox, and the first ships are showing up. It’s the first year of the Heroic Triops journey, meaning it’s Thirty-Three-Forty-Seven Post-Great Cataclysm. That means I have—

I did mental math as best I could, trying to calculate judgment day.

Just over three years until Samhain Thirty-Three-Fifty.

I fell to my knees, my legs finally giving out. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I looked at the small glimmer of the city. A broken city, but a living one nonetheless.

Fug me, man. What did I do? So many people are going to die because of what I…crap.

It felt like my heart had been ripped from my body, thinking about what was going to happen to that capital. What was already written into the story of this world. Written by me. And how, even though I could possibly change the course of events, there was no telling how it would disrupt the story’s—no, this world’s—future.

If I did that, all the things I knew to be true would never come to pass. The future could unravel, changing everything. And in this reality, if the heroes didn’t win, then the Caering—that terrible, ancient pantheon—would destroy everyone and everything one final time.

Game over. Forever.

“Hey, you okay, kid?” A soft voice asked.

Looking over with tears pouring down my cheeks, I noticed the compassionate expression in the blue eyes of an anthropomorphic bovine—a ruminantfolk. She looked at me with concern, brushing the blonde hair away from her gentle, humanoid face and tucking it behind a pair of big, floppy ears.

Instinctively, she raised a hand to cast a spell, and over the course of a few seconds, I felt a calming warmth wash over me. At the same moment, a strange sensation of synesthesia overwhelmed my senses as I suddenly smelled freshly baked buns.

“There you are, no reason to cry. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

It took me a moment to break from my stupor, but eventually I realized this kind soul was joined by two others. A bashful turtle boy—a tortan—and a disgruntled-looking faerie girl.

Oh crap, the heroes! They can’t—nuuuu!

“I—uhh, I’m fine, miss. Thank you!” I yelled at her awkwardly.

Jumping to my feet, I looked towards campus and its hundreds of Beaux-Arts buildings. Trusting in my legs to take me where I needed to go, there was a brief skip before I darted towards school and away from a potentially story-breaking moment.