The Battlefield

The battlefield was enormous.

Unfortunately, so was the number of things trying to kill Brenda.

She stood among thousands of elves, watching them summon magnificent magical bows as though they were pulling umbrellas out of thin air.

One moment, their hands were empty. The next, glowing weapons appeared in their grasp, radiating beautiful streams of energy.

Some bows were silver. Others were golden, blue, or decorated with intricate magical patterns. A few even hummed with power.

Brenda stared.

Okay. That's impressive.

She looked down at her empty hands.

Now, how do I do that?

She raised her right hand.

"Bow."

Nothing happened.

She blinked.

"Bow?"

Still nothing.

An elf standing nearby glanced at her.

Brenda smiled awkwardly.

"Just checking something."

The elf nodded and returned to preparing his weapon.

She tried again, this time with more confidence.

"Appear, bow!"

A breeze brushed past her face.

That was it.

Brenda slowly lowered her hand.

"Wonderful. I've successfully summoned the wind."

A few elves nearby exchanged confused looks.

She ignored them and examined her palm.

Perhaps she needed to concentrate. Maybe the magic responded to a particular movement. Or perhaps there was some secret phrase that every elf knew except her.

She closed her eyes.

Come on, Brenda. You survived seventeen years on Earth. Surely you can summon a piece of wood.

She imagined a bow.

A beautiful bow. A legendary bow. A bow so powerful that its mere appearance would make enemies reconsider their life choices.

She opened her eyes.

Her palm was still empty.

"Seriously?"

A distant rumble shook the ground.

Brenda turned.

Across the battlefield, the orc army was advancing.

Thousands of monstrous figures marched toward the elven forces. Their crude armor clanged with every step, and their weapons rose above their heads. Some carried enormous axes. Others dragged heavy clubs across the ground.

Their roars rolled over the battlefield like thunder.

Brenda swallowed.

Right. Magic lesson postponed. Surviving comes first.

She looked around.

Every elf seemed to know exactly what to do. They checked their weapons, tightened their armor, and positioned themselves in disciplined formations.

She, meanwhile, was still trying to convince her hand to produce a bow.

"Maybe it needs a dramatic gesture."

She stretched her arm forward.

"By the ancient power of—"

A nearby elf coughed.

Brenda stopped.

"Never mind."

She turned away and tried a different approach.

"Please?"

Nothing.

She stared at her palm.

"Not even manners work?"

Before she could try another method, a terrible roar erupted behind her.

Brenda froze.

Slowly, she turned her head.

An orc stood several meters away.

It was enormous, with gray-green skin, a thick neck, and tusks protruding from its lower jaw. Its armor looked as though someone had collected several pieces of scrap metal and hammered them together during a particularly unpleasant afternoon.

It held a massive axe.

Brenda looked at the axe.

Then at the orc.

Then back at the axe.

"Hello."

The orc growled.

"You're the famous Averly?"

Brenda's stomach dropped.

Oh, no. Not this again.

She had barely survived being mistaken for a legendary warrior once. Apparently, the universe had decided that one humiliation wasn't enough.

"Well," she said carefully, "that depends on who's asking."

The orc narrowed its eyes.

"You don't look very impressive."

Brenda glanced down at herself.

She was wearing unfamiliar armor, standing on a battlefield, and apparently being judged by a creature whose idea of fashion involved rusty metal and aggressive facial hair.

"That's funny," she replied. "I was about to say the same thing."

The orc snarled.

Brenda immediately regretted her confidence.

Why did I say that? Why am I insulting the monster with the enormous axe?

It took a step toward her.

She took one step backward.

"Let's not make any decisions we'll regret."

The orc raised its weapon.

Brenda turned and ran.

"WE'RE MAKING A DECISION!"

She sprinted across the battlefield, dodging soldiers, abandoned equipment, and a particularly unfortunate elf who had stopped to tie his boot.

"Sorry!" she shouted as she passed him.

The elf barely had time to look up before she disappeared into the chaos.

Behind her, the orc roared and gave chase.

Brenda's lungs began protesting almost immediately.

Of course. Of course I'm being chased. Why wouldn't I be?

She glanced over her shoulder.

The orc was gaining on her.

"Could you at least pretend to be tired?"

The creature answered with another roar.

"Right. Conversation isn't your strength."

She spotted a group of elves standing together, their bows glowing with magical energy.

They looked calm.

Focused.

Completely prepared.

Brenda rushed toward them.

"Excuse me! Emergency!"

One of the elves turned.

"Lady Averly?"

"Yes! Wonderful! You recognize me!"

The elf straightened immediately.

"Do you require assistance?"

"That would be an excellent start!"

The elf looked past her.

His expression changed.

"An orc!"

The group turned and raised their bows.

Brenda ducked behind them.

A series of glowing arrows shot through the air. The orc barely had time to lift its axe before the attacks struck its armor, forcing it to stumble backward.

Brenda peeked out from behind one elf.

"Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

The elf glanced at her.

"Are you injured?"

"Only emotionally."

He stared.

"Never mind."

The orc recovered, bellowing in anger. More enemies were approaching from the other side of the battlefield.

The elves began repositioning.

Brenda's brief feeling of safety evaporated.

She looked at the weapons in their hands.

Then at her own empty palms.

I can't keep hiding behind everyone.

She had no idea who Averly had been. She didn't understand the expectations surrounding that name, and she certainly hadn't asked to become the center of a war.

But she was here.

And if she wanted to survive, she needed to learn how to use the power everyone kept assuming she possessed.

She stepped away from the group.

"Lady Averly?" one elf called.

Brenda forced a smile.

"I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"To do something incredibly foolish."

She hurried away before anyone could ask what that meant.

---

Brenda found a relatively quiet patch of battlefield behind a broken stone barrier.

Relatively quiet, of course, meant that she could hear the screams, explosions, and occasional crashes of magical attacks without having to dodge anything immediately.

She crouched behind the barrier and examined her hands.

"All right. Let's try this again."

She closed her eyes.

The first thing she imagined was the bow she had seen the other elves summon. She pictured its curved limbs, its polished surface, and the glowing energy that surrounded it.

She concentrated.

Nothing.

She tried to remember what the other elves had done.

They hadn't spoken any incantations. They simply raised their hands, focused, and summoned their weapons.

Maybe I'm overthinking it.

She raised her arm.

"Bow."

Nothing.

"Come on."

Nothing.

"Please appear."

A distant explosion shook the ground.

Brenda flinched.

"Not you! I'm talking to the bow!"

She pressed her lips together.

This was becoming ridiculous.

She had seen people summon weapons with less effort than it took to open a door. Meanwhile, she was practically negotiating with her own hand.

"Maybe I'm saying it wrong."

She tried a different word.

"Weapon!"

Nothing.

"Bow-shaped weapon!"

Still nothing.

She looked up at the sky.

"Is there a customer service department for this?"

A shadow passed over the barrier.

Brenda's head snapped around.

An orc had spotted her.

It was smaller than the first one, but it still carried a heavy club and had a face that suggested it had never experienced a pleasant thought.

It grinned.

"Found you."

Brenda slowly stood.

"Congratulations."

The orc lifted its club.

She took a cautious step backward.

"Now, before you do anything dramatic, I would like to point out that I'm currently experiencing technical difficulties."

The orc charged.

Brenda ran.

She scrambled over the barrier, nearly tripped on the other side, and continued sprinting. The orc's footsteps thundered behind her.

This is not how legendary warriors behave.

She darted between two fallen trees and ducked beneath a broken wagon.

The orc swung its club.

The wagon exploded into splinters.

Brenda crawled out from the opposite side and scrambled to her feet.

"That was an antique!"

The orc roared.

"Fine! Destroy whatever you want!"

She ran toward a cluster of rocks, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Her legs were beginning to ache.

She couldn't keep doing this.

Every time an enemy appeared, she ran. Every time she tried to use magic, nothing happened.

And the worst part was that everyone seemed to expect her to be extraordinary.

She stopped behind a boulder and pressed her back against it.

For a moment, she closed her eyes.

I don't know how to fight.

The admission hurt more than she expected.

On Earth, she had known exactly who she was. She had spent years practicing the piano, competing, performing, and working toward a future she understood.

Here, she had inherited someone else's name, someone else's reputation, and a body that apparently came with magical abilities she couldn't operate.

She opened her eyes.

The orc appeared around the boulder.

Brenda stared at it.

The orc stared back.

They stood there for a brief, awkward moment.

"You're getting really good at finding me," Brenda said.

The orc raised its club.

She sighed.

"All right. I suppose we're doing this."

She lifted both hands.

"Bow!"

Nothing happened.

The orc charged.

Brenda's eyes widened.

"PLEASE!"

A flash of light burst from her palm.

Something solid formed in her grasp.

A bow.

For a moment, Brenda forgot about the orc.

She stared at the weapon in disbelief.

It was beautiful.

Its curved limbs shimmered with pale magical light, and delicate patterns ran along its surface. A faint current of energy moved through it, as though the weapon were alive.

Brenda's mouth fell open.

"Oh."

The orc was still charging.

"Oh!"

She grabbed the bow with both hands.

"OH!"

The orc swung.

Brenda stumbled backward, narrowly avoiding the club. The weapon smashed into the ground, sending dirt and stones flying.

She scrambled away, clutching her newly summoned bow.

"IT WORKED!"

The orc turned toward her.

Brenda's excitement vanished.

"Right. Celebrating later."

She raised the bow.

A glowing arrow appeared between her fingers.

She pulled the string back.

The weapon felt strangely natural in her hands. The moment she held it, something inside her seemed to recognize what she was supposed to do.

She aimed at the orc.

Her hands trembled.

The creature growled and began advancing again.

Brenda swallowed.

Come on. Just shoot.

She released the string.

The arrow flew.

It passed several feet to the left of the orc and disappeared into the distance.

Brenda stared after it.

The orc stared at her.

There was a long pause.

"That," Brenda said, "was a warning shot."

The orc roared.

"An extremely generous warning shot."

It charged again.

Brenda hurriedly pulled another arrow into place.

She aimed.

This time, she concentrated harder. She pictured the target, steadied her breathing, and tried to ignore the enormous creature sprinting toward her.

The arrow shot forward.

It struck the orc's shoulder.

The impact made the creature stagger, and its roar echoed across the battlefield.

Brenda's eyes widened.

"I HIT YOU!"

She immediately regretted shouting.

The orc looked at the arrow embedded in its armor.

Then it looked at her.

Its expression became considerably less friendly.

Brenda lowered the bow.

"Perhaps I should have kept that achievement to myself."

The orc ripped the arrow free and charged.

She screamed and ran.

But this time, she wasn't entirely helpless.

She had a bow.

She had magic.

And, most importantly, she had finally discovered that the weapon could actually appear.

She raced toward a line of elven soldiers, glancing back at the furious orc.

"All right, Brenda," she muttered. "New plan."

She raised the bow while running.

"Step one: stop running."

She looked over her shoulder.

The orc was still gaining on her.

"Step two: reconsider step one!"

She ducked behind the soldiers just as a volley of magical arrows streaked past her. The orc stumbled beneath the sudden assault, giving her enough time to catch her breath.

An elf turned toward her.

"Lady Averly! You have summoned your bow!"

Brenda looked down at the weapon in her hands.

Then she smiled.

"Yes. We had a very emotional conversation."

The elf blinked.

Before he could ask what she meant, another roar rose from the battlefield.

Brenda looked toward the advancing enemy forces.

There were more orcs coming.

Many more.

Her smile slowly disappeared.

She tightened her grip on the bow.

"Right," she whispered. "Apparently, one emotional conversation wasn't enough."

And for the first time since waking up in this strange world, Brenda stepped forward instead of immediately running away.