Prologue

The Start of an Adventure

A human monk sits in an opening of a small grove on a stump where a single tree with a thick trunk had been chopped down a long time ago. The monk had been there for a long time, too, meditating in the same cross-legged sitting posture that she started in so long ago. The amount of time she had been there was actually the most unimportant thing to her as the frayed ends of a rug were—which actually did bother her…

So it was, that she knew her enjoyable time in this world was soon to be at an end. And as if this creeping thought had finally been said out loud, a pop was heard behind the monk and near her stump.

The pop might have disturbed or surprised some, but the monk knew exactly what the pop originated from—or whom, more like. She had been expecting this visit any day.

"My Lady," an all too familiar voice expectedly rang out with eagerness. And still the monk chose not to move or address the intruder. She knew the middle-aged man, with closely shaven hair, except for his bushy goatee, brown eyes that revealed nothing of his character, but shaggy eyebrows that did, was in a low-stooped bow, waiting for her to give permission to speak.

She did not give her permission, but after a minute of silence, he chose to speak anyway. His Lady always did this; she enjoyed testing the patience of her followers. And it was said that good rewards came to her followers who waited. Unfortunately, the man had never been patient, in his life, or now; not even when his Lady had collected him into her influence. Patience was just a game to his Lady. One that Master Andrenelli believed everyone had played long enough. "My Lady, Master Andrenelli sent me to retrieve you."

The monk didn't want to react, but the mention of Andrenelli's name sent a guilty chill down her back that turned into a long sigh. How long had she made Andrenelli wait? Surely it had been longer the last time she had left. "Is there something that only I can address?" she finally asked in an innocent manner, but still without turning to the man.

The man was confused, and he hesitated to answer. He took a step back, glanced around the grove to examine his Lady's chosen sanctuary, and frowned. "Why have you chosen to be away for so long? My Lady," he adds as an afterthought, continuing to look around for the reasoning of his Lady's chosen absence. There was nothing special about the grove. There were trees, there was grass, and there were weeds. It was a grove, a particularly ordinary one. "There are many affairs that call for your attention," he now settled his attention back on his Lady.

"All affairs that Andrenelli cannot handle himself?" she playfully snapped back, in a not so innocent manner.

Again, the man was confused. "What shall I tell Master Andrenelli?" he asked outright.

The monk twitched uncomfortably. It had been so long since she had moved, and now that she was, in body and mind, there was so much she wanted to get up and do. But first, "Tell him that it is not yet time for me to return. Whatever matters require my attention, I'm confident that Andrenelli can rid me of them."

The man still hesitated, and his frown deepened. Andrenelli would not be happy to hear that Lady Toral-oba was not returning. "May I inquire when the time of your return will be?"

Rayda leisurely stood up and stretched her long slender body. This was the first time she had moved in over a year. Her human body felt stiff and ached, but she forced it to move the way she needed it too; knowing it would all only hurt and ache even more later on. Her brown, sun-bleached hair had grown past her shoulders into unkempt tangles, and her long nails weren't looking so pristine either. Scraggly, she thought; that's how she must look to her follower, who was still standing and awaiting her answer.

And she was right. The man didn't like his Lady's appearance. She looked much too dirty for how she should look, for what she really was, and he was somewhat embarrassed. Should he really be allowed to look upon his Lady when she did not look her best? Every other time he had been in his Lady's presence, she was the envy of beauty itself. To look upon her was like catching the moonbeams on a nocturnal flower—forbidden and precious. Yet, here she was, in a human body, with dirt under her nails, with sun-dried skin, with tattered clothing, and looking as thin as a book written by Master Andrenelli on the topic of swordplay. Gazing at his Lady's current state seemed more forbidding than her actual beauty.

After Rayda stretched, she turned to the man and found herself smiling. In her human body, she was taller than the man; taller and trimmer than his average height and hardy build. She had grown accustomed to this feature of this body, and planned on making herself taller in any future forms she took on. Being a tall female seemed to intimidate males, and it was a much different feeling than that of being smaller. She liked it.

Yet, there was one feature of this body she did not like. Even for a female body, she was not very womanly, being bonier than curvy. The only bulges she did have were the rock-hard muscles on her arms, legs, and abs. She had designed this body for that of a monk, agile but strong. But oh, how she missed the soft skin and hourglass figure of a woman that could turn the heads of most males in most humanoid species. She liked being attractive, and from time to time she had even played the role of a seductress.

From time to time, back in her own world, she had also put herself into the form of a male body. Not to seduce, but to manipulate; because in her line of work, there were always characters that were hard to collect into her influence unless she had the help of a male. It all depended on the individual that she was trying to accrue.

The last time she took the form of a male was to gain the trust of a particularly sexist male orc. At first, she had sent Andrenelli to attend to the matter of gaining the orc into her influence, but he had returned in dismay, saying the orc had thought him squishy. But Rayda had understood the orc's perspective. Andrenelli was a wizard and preferred books, robes, and spells over swords, armor, and melee; unlike the orc who savored a sweaty and bloody fight.

The orc's name had been Mulgbash, and despite Rayda eventually gaining his trust, in her male body, and revealing to him who and what she really was, the orc ended up choosing a different path, and a different power. That, too, she understood. Rayda offered many rewards and benefits to her followers, but the orc wanted a little chaos in his life, and chaos was not something Rayda presented; perhaps tolerated on rare occasions, but never engaged in.

Putting a comforting hand on the bushy browed man's shoulder, Rayda said, "Soon, my child," and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. Turning away, she inspected her surroundings that she had not laid eyes upon in a year.

The man was twice as embarrassed now as he felt the residual tingle of his Lady's lips between his brows. It was uncommon for his Lady to bestow kisses, and he did not believe he deserved the token for the sake of his own relaxation. He stooped into a low bow and reprieved himself. With another pop, he was gone, letting the cool breeze fill his empty space.

The breeze was cool, and the feeling of wind on Rayda's bare skin felt good. A sensation she had not had for a year, because a year ago, when she had taken her spot at the center of the grove to meditate, she had put up a barrier to the grove and the rest of the world. The barrier was to hold for as long as she meditated, and it had ceased when she stood up from the stump, opening the grove up to the elements of the world. Her barrier, in essence, had frozen the grove in time and space, preventing the coming of critters and animals, wind or rain, and the changing seasons of the region.

The barrier had also prevented humanoid wanderers that could disturb Rayda's meditation from happening upon the grove. When a passerby would come near it, the mental idea of taking another route would quickly turn them around, or send them around rather than through. This power of illusion was one of the almost limitless benefits of being what she was.

Rayda had never had problems disappearing when she needed to. Mortals could be so easy to fool.

Rayda, however, knew that such a barrier, this display of her power, was potentially dangerous. She had to go about using any of her mysterious powers in a way that would only benefit herself, and only in her own presence. She was not in her world, and using her other world powers could influence those who were not hers to influence. There were always other powers, who were kin to this world and held a large range of influence in their world, that were watching. Thus far, she had succeeded in not provoking any of them, and drawing attention to herself. She was not a threat to their influence; therefore, she was allowed to remain as a visitor to their world.

And throughout her eleven years in the world of Rouentha she had done so well playing her game.

It was somewhat of a hobby of Rayda's, or as she's known in her world, Toral-oba. Whenever Toral-oba grew bored of her demanding role in her world, she would go on what she called: vacation. On these vacations, Toral-oba would role-play; meaning she took on the role of something or someone else. It was a game of pretending, and she took the game quite seriously. She would go to many lengths to fit into her chosen role, in looks and character.

It was impossible for Toral-oba to play her game, or even go on "vacation", in her own world. Too many of her followers in her world would make the game less enjoyable, bugging her with menial tasks, as mortals always did.

So more often, Lady Toral-oba went to another world, and she would usually only visit a world once. Yet, her role as Rayda the monk was Toral-oba's second time in Rouentha. During her first visit she had played the role of a human tavern maid by the name of Milly, who would sing for the weary traveler if the coin was right. It had been a simple and easy role to play, but "Milly" had hardly ever left the tavern to see the outside world of Rouentha. Milly ended up staying only two months.

Toral-oba thought it harmless to visit Rouentha a second time. She had gained no influence whatsoever as Milly the tavern maid, making it safe to return for a second bout that would allow her to explore the world of Rouentha, not just listen to the epic and heroic tales that took place within; tales told by old, drunk, and retired adventurers. As much as Toral-oba had a soft spot for heroic tales, an exceptionally large soft spot that had inspired her to start "collecting" heroes into her influence, she preferred to witness the heroism for herself. She returned to Rouentha as Rayda the monk, with plans for adventure.

It was risky. She had never chosen such an in-depth role before.

As Rayda, she had now been in Rouentha for eleven years, counting the year she just spent meditating. The other ten were spent perfecting her role as a monk—uneventful but necessary to play her pretending game.

Upon her revisit, "Rayda" had travelled to a monastery far into the Ghiga Mountains that she had heard about in her days as Milly the tavern maid. She spent ten years at the monastery learning from the monk masters. But she had mainly gone so that she may learn about Rouentha's history, its deities, and its races; because after a year the monk master's realized that Rayda was an adept fighter, prodigy even. They believed all she needed to go along with her expert skill was the discipline of a true monk. Or, in follow with Rayda's secret pretending game, the mannerisms and behavior of a monk. Meditation was a part of that behavior.

Taking a last glance at the stump that had been her home for about a year, Rayda now believed she had taken the meditation that the masters told her would be her final test of discipline, a bit too far. One year was long; perhaps too long.

And eleven years was long, too. Her followers were already weary of their Lady Toral-oba's absence.

But she wouldn't go back. Not yet. The adventure had only begun.