Chapter Two
B stumbles across the small zombie-goop creatures three times. The first two don't notice her, and she loses the third by running around a large tree. It takes a few days and testing the involuntary music, but she arrives on the outskirts of Gothel's Meadow. She knows this is the right place because of the sign, though the music cutting out when she walks past it gives some pause.
Test one. Two. There.
The ripple is slight, catching on sunlight the moment between a song in her head being there by force or not. She thinks there might even be a slight discolouration to the sky once she's past the sign, but whatever this magic is just so happens to be clear enough that she second guesses its shape, same as whatever circles Heartslabyul.
For now though, she is safe. A bit curious as to how the people travel in this world or how they keep the monsters out, but B is more nervous about interacting with individuals inside this barrier. The forest begins to thin, flowers growing in more and more groups. Dirt road turns to paved stone. She spies the spire of a tower through the leaves, a glint near the top that goes away for a moment. Then it follows her trek. Likely a spyglass of some kind, the sun giving away their position.
Her gait never falters even as her heart races. B carefully adjusts the fabricated scarf around her neck, lifting the knotted tie higher to cover the tattoo. Pulls her hair forward enough to cover her marked ear and eye, careful of what now becomes a blind spot. She would have gladly gone around and avoided this place even if it meant risking some monsters, but she is almost out of water.
Please be a trading economy. I just need to fill up the bottles and get out.
The forest clears, leaving grass and herb patches everywhere. A few people working in the fields look up as her boots crunch on the path. One person waves, another brushes off their knees and walks over.
B forces herself to wave back, stomach dropping out in horror. Braces herself to run because oh no oh s**t oh please no no no no-
The people here do not have eyes.
The Faceless.
But contrary to her expectations, the person approaching doesn't give any sign that B is the odd one out. No doubletake, no pause, not even a question of if she is a new role or something else to do with this body's past. Instead, the worker smiles and greets with, "Welcome to Gothel's Meadow! Are you here for a visit or passing through?"
B smiles in return, doing her best to project friendly newcomer vibes rather than naïve outsider, trying hard not to twitch at the overlay of words, "Passing through. Is there a place nearby where I can fill up my supplies?"
Does your heart beat or go tick tock?
"Our resident healer is bound to have anything you need," the eye-less person laughs a bit, smile faltering only after their words. The tense-gut feeling eases to something more suspicious, B doesn't move when they step into grabbing range. The faceless' voice lowers, "Her prices are a bit steep though. I'd recommend the shops if you are not looking for much."
"T- I appreciate your help," B feels her vocal cords twang at the change in her words. "Is it a straight walk into town?"
"Ah, yes, it is."
"Then I'll let you get back to work," she nods, one hand securing her sash while the other tightens on the bundle over her shoulder. If this person is going to steal anything, they will have to go through her. "Again, your help is greatly appreciated."
"O-okay! Bye!"
Her exit may be rude, but she is in no mood for small talk. This is an in-and-out mission. While it could have been a great opportunity to learn more about this place, B thinks she may be developing shock and isn't mentally ready to defend from a surprise attack. She manages to respond with 'I apricate your welcome' and waves to the others in the fields who greet her. It is extremely relieving to see a multitude of skin tones and hair colours, though there is a worry about how they all appear around the same tall height. From what little she remembers about Alice in the Country of Hearts, the faceless were all supposed to look the same from far away with very minute differences up close. The people she sees now are all dress in different styles, not conforming to one outfit, with a handful wearing the same clothing she does. These people are individuals, each with their own markings, habits, weights, and builds.
So, B wonders, why does no one twitch upon seeing I have eyes?
If she thinks about the only other person to verbally talk to her, the racoon-cat creature had eyes too.
What does it mean?
There is a person with a gun across their lap guarding the entrance. They welcome her in and ask, "No carriage?"
"No, I've been walking."
"Long walk to anywhere," they chuckle in sympathy. Points to her sack, "Are you selling wares?"
"No, no, I'm just travelling. Trading what I can when I need anything."
"Huh. You a wizard?"
"No, just a wanderer."
"Homeless, gotcha." Their smile widens when B chokes a laugh. "Are you looking for a job?"
"Maybe someday. I don't have any references."
"Don't need references to harvest food," they motion to the fields of herbs. "Don't need magic, either. We're always looking for extra hands. Same with our neighbors."
"I'll… definitely think about it." Is the offer real, a trap, or both? "I appreciate your assistance."
Finally free to walk in, B forces her aching stride to a reasonable, unrushed walk. The center of this town is the tower; it may be a watchtower now, but B has suspicions about its origins. The streets are all wide near the outer walls and they narrow until their ends jut out at the circular road surrounding the tower. All the houses, made of brick or stone, are in neat and straight lines with one row facing the back of the next, big front and back yards for each. It looks quaint. A little dreary, but that could just be her bias of the town's name clouding her view.
The shopping district is on the other side of it all, and B only finds it because of the smell. Sweets, fish, herbs, and wood smoke are the scents in the airs. After running on a fruit diet for so long, it feels like being socked in the gut. It is hard to restrain herself, mouth watering and any cravings she's crammed away in her mind come back full force.
I need water, anything else would be an indulgence. She thinks about what she has and what can be given away. Slowly moves down and back along the street to decide who would even have running water in their business. What could they need that she has? While hard to think through the roaring hunger, B does settle on a plan.
Chooses the bakery, careful to make herself appear small and non-threatening. A lot of recipes need liquids to soften them up, and at the very least these people would need to constantly drink water in such a warm environment. As long as she doesn't steal from them, B should make it out fine. If they don't want one of her spare parts, then maybe a piece of stolen jewellery that matches the red aesthetic.
"Welcome!" greets the faceless person at the register. The room is so warm, smells so much of sweets and freshly baked goods, that B just about doubles over as her hunger pains wrack her body. She hides the flinch by making it a wave and returns the greeting, eyes darting around to cover all occupants and exits. "How can I help you?"
There are some children in the corner, going back to drawing as they don't find B interesting. The woman walks up to the counter, noting how green this person and the children's hair are. Like the colour of healthy ivy, though the person manning the counter looks too pale and thin.
"This may be an odd request," B begins, slow and quiet. The hand holding her sash crosses her stomach to cut off a growl before it can begin, "but I was wondering if I can fill up my water here."
"Oh," the person jolts and visibly hesitates.
"I can trade, if that's alright," B motions to her sack. "I'm just passing through and needed to fill up my bottles. I can go somewhere else if-"
"No, no, that's fine. What do you have?"
"Well, erm, do you need a pot? I've got an extra one. All it's been used is to boil water."
Maybe not true, seeing as she got it from the castle, but the person nods and smiles, "Alright, let's see it."
When B digs it out – keeping the other contents hidden as the children watch them now – the faceless person's smile drops. They take the fair-sized pot with both hands. B thinks at first it's with hesitance, but after a moment of careful watching realizes it's reverence in their posture.
"Is this stainless steel?"
"I believe so," B nods. Would be very disappointing if it was iron.
"And- how many bottles do you need filled for it."
"…Four."
Her stomach makes a noise she can't stop in time. B goes very stiff as the worker pauses to eye her. The faceless person nods, "And a tart. Do you like cranberries?"
"I- yes. You don't have to-"
"I insist. Whisk!" One of the children at the table jumps to their feet. "Would you please fill up the bottles and then go get some more water! You can take a seat while my son does it."
Her suspicion may be up, but there is little else B can do when they are giving her food and water in exchange for the pot. B chugs back the last of her fourth and hands it over. The worker takes a piece from the display, placing it on a napkin and shooing B into a nearby chair and table. They sit opposite to her and stare expectantly, eyes flickering to the children's corner every now and then, "Where are you heading to?"
B stares at the beautiful desert, coming to terms with her fears. It is fair sized and sparkling in the light. She decides that, if it is poisoned or doused with something, at least she's going down with sugary goodness. Lifts the tart, "I'm just wandering for now. No real destination besides somewhere warm."
"Oh? Are you taking a gap year?"
The cranberry tart is heavenly after so long without processed or junk food, yet B still almost chokes at the thought of school. More specifically, that this new face is young enough to be considered required-school age. "Ah, no. I haven't been in classes in a long while." True. "Do I really look that young?"
"You look younger than my college-age son," the worker laughs. While B can't pin-point a gender to them, age-wise they do not look old enough to have a kid in college. "His name's Trey," and the other kid is Whisk- oh no, this is probably the bakery owner, "and he's attending Night Raven College. He has a great amount of magic, you see. Oh, we were so proud when the carriage came for him the first time. We all cried of course, it is disappointing not seeing him most of the year, but it is such a great opportunity we can't help but be happy too."
B keeps a smile – easy to hide the forcedness with how soft her new face is – and nods along even though she's very lost and concerned, "Congratulations to him." The only carriages she's seen were at the kidnapper's place, further cementing the idea that she needs to get out of this town. It is definitely not far enough away from the kidnappers not to send her back if they find out she ran. "And I truly do appreciate this tart. It tastes wonderful."
"Why, thank you very much! I made it myself!"
Her mind flatlines for a moment at the thanks, and then B reminds herself that once is not equated to the norm. Just because this person thanked her does not mean it isn't taboo somewhere else. She continues eating, trying to look for that calm, I'm a harmless stranger vibe as the person prattles on.
"-is on his dorm's Magishift team again this year. We're so proud of him. We went to go see Trey play last year but we just don't have the budget to go again this year. He says it's fine but watching him on the television is just not the same, though I guess it feels like my heart is in my throat anyways. There are so many people who get injured in the game every year, I just can't help but worry you know?"
"Mhmm." B has no idea what Magishift is, but it's easy to fake sympathy as with the sadness at finishing her tart.
"If you find yourself near a television next month, you should give it a watch. I know Night Raven College isn't as exciting as the professional leagues or the tournament between schools, but the students are all very talented."
"I will give it a watch," if I must. Doesn't sound like something that will assist with her continued survival, but maybe it will help with fitting in if B is going to be keep entering towns. Whisk comes running back, arms full. "Ah, I appreciate this."
Whisk nods and darts back to the other children. B wipes her fingers on the napkin, wondering if she imagines the person across from her looking sad. But no, the posture and stiff smile matches an I don't want this to end train of thought.
"I greatly appreciate your hospitality," B says, carefully watching in the corner of her eye as she slips the bottles back into her bundle. "The tart was very delicious. If, ah, I am near a television, I will root for your son and his team. Hearts-slab-ee-ule, you said?"
"Heartslabyul, yes," they agree, clapping their hands in excitement. "Thank you for the pot. Stainless steel has been so hard to get since the, eh, the mines haven't been… well, you know."
No, B certainly does not, but she nods because not knowing something can cause more suspicion than it's worth. At least she has a fallback; a theory about the empty seven-dwarves' house is better than nothing if push comes to shove. Now she knows to keep an eye out for steels if those mines are no longer in production. "Are you doing alright?"
"Oh yes, all of my equipment here is magically reinforced, and my spouse if very good at carving for things we cannot get enchanted."
B keeps smiling, relaxing her shoulders in an attempt to look like that is good news. Holds back the panic brough about by thinking of magic contamination that might have been in what she just ate. "That's very handy. Again," she stands, trying not to be too abrupt, "the tart was very delicious, and I appreciate the trade for water."
"My pleasure. Be safe on your travels, alright?"
"I will. Have a great day." B waves and extracts herself from the building as quickly is polite. Waves to the children as they watch her through the window. Forces her shoulders and swinging arm to look relaxed, but cannot find the willpower to loosen the tight-knuckle grip on her sack. Heads straight for the other end of this town because so far the people here seem nice and she is very suspicious of it all. A very irrational part of her is starting to pray that she isn't going to end up the next meal, too many cannibal subplots in games and stories banging around her head.
B is making herself feel ill when there's a call from her blind spot, "Hold on!"
The voice is high enough for a woman's, the sound feels directed her way. B glances over, and then freezes. The woman staring back freezes too; then her face twists into an ugly scowl. Blueing-grey eyes stare at B like the visitor is a personal slight. Red curly hair flares up and the shouter starts marching forward with a vengeance.
B doesn't care about how running supposedly makes someone look guilty. She bolts down the road, legs protesting after such a break and stomach churning her little bit of food.
"Stop right there!"
B doesn't, instead weaving a bit to risk a glance back. She's glad she did, as the woman tosses a ball of something – probably magic – her way. B twists and zigzags until the treeline at the end of the road comes into view. Then she's in the forest, moving around trees yet keeping the road in sight. No more magic comes her way, and another glance back reveals no one following. B doesn't stop for another few minutes though, slowing to more of a shuffle than a walk as she tries to force her hearing past the beat in her ears.
Chugs back some water not long after that, sitting at the base of a large tree for a break.
Resolves that no food or kindness is worth going back to Gothel's Meadow if it means being shot at by the only person around with a face.
A day later, Mother Knows Best turns into Cruella De Vil.
;;;
It takes two days for the trees to thin. Unfortunately, B realizes the end is near too late and bursts through the treeline on screaming legs and squeezing lungs. The blob creature chasing her can finally put it's four legs to use. Looking too much like a deformed, ink-pimple bursting dog, it lets out a scream more like a bat and picks up the pace on the flatland.
Gritting her teeth for a moment, B releases her bundle when she hears it close in. There's a yelp that she doesn't bother focusing on, pumping her arms harder as sweat drips into her eyes. There are acres of land before her, more than half converted into some form of farmland. The corner of her eyes blur. A discolouring sheen flashing over the area ahead like a camera filter.
There's a snarl, and B leans heavy on one leg to leap away. Raises her arms in a sort of shield and rolls onto a shoulder, pushing and springing up higher then what she thought this body could produce. In the turn to get her feet, she spots the dog-thing scrambling from its own failed attack. She stumbles once on planting her feet, and then bolts off trying to regain her speed. Goal: the edge of the bubble.
There are people running for her from inside the barrier. Her subconscious counts the steps to the edge; B tries to get a sense of the creature's location. There's another snarl, more brutal and less animal-like than the last. B knows she cannot afford to run the whole way, and three meters from the barrier-thing closes her eyes. Lowers for weight and pressure to force into the ground. Kicks off with a hard leap as she hears the thing behind her try the same.
Snaps her eyes open and puts just enough resistance with her hands on the ground to turn her body sideways. Her wrists protest, but B cannot think about that as her legs fly towards the barrier in line with her body. Turned, she watches the inky thing savagely tear into the area her body just was.
She rolls once, twice, and then wheezes on all fours as she struggles to process and get up.
For a moment she stares at her hands. A trick of the light – it has to be – making her skin look a deep, previously unseen blue before she blinks and is back to normal. Lungs aching, her legs give out as she tries to get her knees under her. B looks over to the barrier wall.
Barely a meter away, the creature snarls and paces, seemingly watching her with bursting, dribbling white and black cysts. It doesn't dare touch the barrier, and B gives up trying to stand. Rolls onto her back, turning her head to watch the people become less than dots on the horizon as they run up to her. She closes her eyes and turns her head to stare at the sky, a crushing disappointment hitting. She is alive, but all her things are outside the bubble. Even if the people here are decent enough to help her get everything back, B is still officially penniless and could be out of food and water if the creature destroyed anything in its hurry to get her. Everything in her makeshift sash is long gone, and the only clothes are what she's worn since she got here. They clean themselves fine, but she still feels gross, and now contemplates that this is the nearest to rock bottom a homeless isekai'd individual usually feels.
Currently, her options are making friendly with the locals or steal from them and continue onwards. B hopes she is far enough away from her kidnapper because she has lines in the sand and stealing from a place that isn't abandoned or hasn't hurt her is not a line she can cross. If these people had nothing to do with and do not support her kidnapping – not that she'd tell them about it – then there is no reason to grab things and run.
Not that she could get very far right now anyways. Her legs finally agree to stand by the time the people are nearly upon her. The creature hasn't left, still pacing and snarling. B goes to raise a hand in a wave, and then drops with hands over her ears as a bang echoes through the lands.
When the ringing in her ears finally dies down, she lifts her head enough to make out the people walking over, guns in hand. There is no other pain on her body, and after a few breaths it clues in what is missing.
B jerks around to the last of an ink-like substance fade into the ground.
"Hey!"
Cringing at the overlay, B scurries away best she can, careful to keep the barrier at her back.
The guns are lowered, and the person with an hourglass figure leaves the group behind, "Hey, whoa, we aren't going to hurt you."
B tries to swallow, mouth too dry, "You know what doesn't help your case? The gunshot."
"Yah, sorry about that," they don't sound very apologetic. "Jimmy's got any itchy trigger finger and too good at aiming. Are you out here alone?"
"Yes. It's just me."
Their eyebrows furrow, and if this person had eyes then they would probably be squinting, "Do you have magic or something?"
This, B is much more prepared for, having practiced answers with herself during the walk, "A little bit." Liar, liar. "Some luck-based, just enough to be noticeable every now and then." Always choose something that cannot be proven otherwise.
"How does it work?"
"Some days are really good," her eyes slide over to the forest and the dots of what were her things, "and some days really aren't."
The person snorts; holds out a hand. After some hesitation, B clasps and lets herself get pulled up, unable to help the eyebrow furrowing at how normal skin-on-skin contact feels with this body. "Must have been a good day, then. Normally the spotties hunt in packs. Annie, she/her," the faceless woman shakes and then releases with a step back.
"B, she/her," is in intrigued response. The woman's orange hair starts the idea that there's more than fairy tales in this world, but now isn't the time to put much thought on it. "At least there's something good coming from today. Do you think it's safe enough to go get…?"
B waves at the area with her things, eyes flickering to the people coming up. One of the ones with a shotgun resting across his chest peers out, and then nods with a clucking noise, "Yah, should be clear for now. We'll come with, but we run back at the first sign of trouble."
"Sounds good."
They're all silent, matching B's pace as she struggles to keep moving her legs. A terseness flitters between the group once they see what she has on the ground. B gathers up the pots and pans, places the surviving jewellery in her sash, and chugs back a water bottle. A few of the people shuffle when she sticks half-destroyed fruits in her sack, but they aren't the ones who will go hungry without any money.
It's only when they're back over the barrier – just as Cruella De Vil cuts out again – that Annie wonders, "Are you a trader?"
"Wanderer," B corrects. "Though I'm willing to offer a trade for some food and water."
"Why are you wandering?"
"I'm trying to get somewhere warm before the temperature drops." A few of the group jolt and give her a more through once-over.
"Why's that?" asks one of the gun-toters.
"Because I don't want to be out in the cold."
Another wonders, not unkindly, "Surely you're not planning to go north with just that stuff."
B is more than sure she doesn't want to admit that kind of weakness to strangers, but at the same time does not understand enough about this world to form a ready-made lie like with the magic. "It's enough for me."
"Do you have any money?"
"Anything I need, I can trade for."
"Maybe," Annie cuts in and the others fall silent. Not just the spokesperson, but also the leader. "But we have the resources to help you, at least for the next few months. We're currently in the middle of a big harvest, and you wouldn't be the only one here helping out for some extra money."
B watches, even more nervous as Annie drives a heel into someone who goes to protest. "That is a very nice offer… I do not want to intrude though…"
"You wouldn't be. We're actually losing profit because several of our usual mages are off and cannot help with magic. We need more bodies to help out in the fields, picking strawberries mostly, but we've also got a vineyard and you're just the right size to get in places a lot of us cannot reach."
"…I don't have enough to exchange for a place to stay. Or for food."
Now the group is giving her weird looks, shotgun-carrying human telling her, "Room and board comes with the offer. It's just that it pays per bucket you fill up. Most people would rather work with the animals or get a job with a minimum wage than come out here."
"You'd stay with me and my girls," Annie explains. "They'd be more than happy to show you how everything works."
B doesn't let herself hope. Holds her breath for a moment and lets out the sting of guilt, "At least a week, if that's aright. A test run to see if you really need me."
To see if I can manage not to die or get re-kidnapped.
"That sounds alright with me!" Annie throws an arm around the stiff newcomer's shoulder, and B really feels how short her new height is compared to the adults of this world. Oddly enough, she thinks the person with a face back in Gothel's Meadow was actually smaller than her without all the puff to their hair. "Welcome to De Ville Farmlands!"
B can't help the flinch as their arrival is followed by the barking of dogs. Can't help how her face drains of colour as dalmatians run up to greet her. "What kind of animal farms do you have here?"
"Oh, the usual. Cows, sheeps, chickens – the therians would kill us if we raised any for slaughter – some llamas, goats, and buffalo." That middle part is said so fast, B almost doesn't catch it. Now she's even more concerned about what she's sticking around for. "We have a lot of dogs around here trained to look after them, so we don't spend too much time with the animals. The dalmatians are all descended from the original owner of these lands. Even the therian ones! Ah, but they're only ever birthed here. No one knows why."
Now B is really feeling queasy, managing to scrape just enough reliance on social norms to nod and make an interested noise. The group splits off, leaving Annie to guide the newcomer around. She introduces B to several of the land managers and hired help before they come across the slightly residential district. The newcomer takes note that the only ones to give genders always give feminine or neutral terms.
Wonders if everyone defaults to masculine.
Thinks, I can work this, for wherever she ends up after this town.
"You'll be driven out to the fields with my girls," the woman explains. B does some one-eyed blinks and takes note of how the houses don't use a number system but list the occupant's names. They walk up the path for the house of Annie, Cater, Grace, Regale, and Serve Diamond. She wonders if all still live here or only three of the Diamond family are currently living in the house. "We've got plenty of sunblock and a few hats you can use. I'll get you set up in my son's room. Well, what would have been his room. We move around a lot and he didn't get time to settle before he was off to school."
The stranger in a magical land makes a smile she doesn't feel. Would have sympathy for the kid, but she'd take an unused mattress over sleeping in trees any day.
"Girls! Get out here! We've got a new farmhand living with us!"
There's a moment of silence before what sounds like a mad scramble and a bunch of groaning. B stills in the doorway, unsure whether to step in with her shoes or make a break for it now. The first person to hop down the stairs is less girl and more woman. She stops short and gapes at B, causing the woman behind her to grumble as she smacks into her.
B does her best to come off non-threatening, but she can guess what she looks like. Half a head of hair unevenly cut, all of it greasy. Dirt stains, dried sweat, and possibly bruises with a sack of who knows what thrown over her shoulder. Her boots are covered in mud, no matter how much a good kick will get it all off because magic.
The second woman – probably the oldest of sister, though it is extremely hard to tell how far apart they are without more facial markings – sneers and demands, "What's on your face?"
"Regale!" Annie snaps, hands going on her hips.
"It's an honest question!"
"Um," B forces her shoulders back and the smile to stay on her face. "Should I take my shoes off?"
"Yes, please," Annie motions her to come in. It seems to break the younger sister out of her daze, the woman hopping down the stairs and holding out a hand without fear.
"I'm Grace, she/her."
"B, she/her," said woman hesitantly shakes back.
Regale makes a face and storms back up the stairs. Grace huffs and leans against the banister, "Don't mind my sister. She's been going crazy with how bad the connection is out here."
Connection to what, B doesn't dare ask.
Annie tells her kid, "She'll be taking Cater's room. Can you show her up? I'm going to heat up a few leftovers for dinner."
"Sounds good!"
Both of them politely ignore the growling from B's stomach, which earns them a few points with the woman. Doesn't mean she won't be sleeping against the wall tonight. Grace doesn't ask any kind of personal questions, instead pointing out the only bathroom in the house and moving a few boxes from her brother's unpacked room.
"You can use the closet if you want. All of Cater's stuff is still folded away."
B swallows her thanks and nods. Decides they'll realize it eventually if she's staying here and explains, "These are the only clothes I have."
Grace falters a moment. "Well, you could have a lot worse. That's more of an under-armor outfit if I'm guessing the magical properties right. I'm sure I have an old pair of overalls you can fit into, that way you won't wear your things out too fast."
"I… would appreciate that." It is very hard to bite down the thanks. "That is very kind of you. Um, do not worry if none fit. I have been fine with just this for a while now."
"Nonsense, we'll find something for you after dinner."
B slowly unpacks her things into the base of the closet. Keeps her sling on, tucking a full water bottle in the folds with the jewelry. Annie's call for dinner echoes through the boards in the house, Grace then motioning for B to follow. The young faceless woman keeps up running commentary about the farmlands and her thoughts on improvement.
"No one wants to risk disturbing the farmland with towers," Grace bemoans. "The inheritor is a potion's master with a successful fashion line, and no inclination to bring this place out of the times of the Great Seven. He won't even step foot on his lands unless he must. It is such a waste; so much property goes unused and not even a Magical Wheel can recharge."
Annie laughs, something a bit bitter, "Be glad plumbing works."
"There is one television in the entire town," Grace stresses. "Forget about videogames, you'll be lucky if your smartphone charges."
Regale grunts and pushes past them, the woman's dark hair making her the odd one out between the other Diamonds, especially with how bright and colourful the room is. B is feeling a bit overwhelmed by the onslaught of reds and oranges in the kitchen. Last at the table, she takes the seat next to the brooding woman in a move that will either kill her or her chances of getting along with the other woman. Annie pulls a chair from the head of the table to sit next to Grace.
One chair empty, but B does not dare comment. Just manages not to cry at the sight of only fruits and vegetable on the table, leading to no doubts about cannibalism… yet. The outsider barely holds back on digging in until the eldest of the house tells them to eat up. B tucks the bits of dangling, greasy hair behind an ear and pretends she doesn't see them all glance at her tattoos as she shovels back a mouthful. Says, "This is great. Is it all grown here?"
Not as great as the tart from the last place, but she'll take the full meal over a dose of sugar.
"Absolutely," Annie grins, eyes flickering to B's right while at the same time her voice overlays in two languages. "Even without the greenhouses, proper storage means we don't have to import anything to survive. Of course, we do import from the Afterglow and water territories, but we're so far inland that it isn't often any comes our way."
Grace perks up. "Where are you from, B?"
"Grace," the mother hisses but doesn't try to remove the question from air.
"Nowhere, really," B lies with a kind smile, though not an ounce of it is felt as she delivers the lines which she practised with herself in the woods. It's odd, feeling her vocal cords and tongue move differently this time, the words coming out a language she couldn't speak without the tattoo. "I travelled a lot as a kid and decided to keep it up, go see the world kind of thing. I get wanderlust if I stay in one place too long, no matter how much I like. The most I've stuck to a place is a few years, and even then I was miserable by the end of it."
All lies. With more a desire to claim space as a territory, B would much rather integrate herself into a place she feels safe. Somewhere to settle and make a handful of connections rather than plenty of brief acquaintances. This world, though, is not safe. There is plenty she does not know and, until she ends up at least a kingdom away, B is going to feel that constant itch of what if her hosts work with the people who kidnapped her?
"Okay," Regale snaps her utensils down on the table and turns in her chair, "what is with your face?"
"Regale!" Annie scolds, and then makes it clear this daughter hasn't been on her good side for a while by continuing, "Stop being rude! You are not some ignorant child, and if you're going to keep acting like one then go to your room."
B twirls her fork, wary, going with the urge to ask, "You're talking about the tattoos, correct?"
The faceless people flinch, Regale mutter a low, "Yes."
Because, for all the dirt and grime and sweat, B hasn't noticed any acne. If they were taking about the fact she has eyes, that would have been a whole other matter, "Translators."
"Pardon me?"
Tap below her eye, "Reading," ear, "hearing," throat, "speaking. Translators."
"Oh," Annie perks up, displeasure seemingly forgotten. "Then is-" a word that translates to Anglo-Saxon but is most definitely not that language, "not your first language?"
"It isn't. I, eh, apologize if I get a phrase wrong or do not understand the meaning."
"That's alright. You have a bit of an accent I haven't heard before. Likely a mishmash of things if you travel so much. We have travelled around a lot as well; my husband is always the last of us to adjust to the new inflictions."
Dinner goes smoother after that, Annie and Grace carrying the conversation and exchanging town gossip. Regale slouches further into her seat, but does lead B to the washing bin when the newcomer insists on cleaning the dishes. Stays a bit to eye her, both just as wary of the other, and then leaves back to her room.
B gets started washing, careful to keep her body angled so the rushing water doesn't hide all noise, and hums the little song that isn't like the one stuck in her head. The background music may have left since entering the bubble, but even the most out-of-tune song could stick around if played long enough.
Annie comes in and starts drying. Asks a soft, "How old are you?"
B is careful to keep smiling, make it look amused even as her heart sinks, "Older than you think I am."
"Are you a fae?"
"What? No. No, I'm human."
The woman hums but doesn't ask anything else, no matter how many questions are etched on her faceless expression. Later, B gets a shower, Grace hands over some old clothing that's still just a bit too big, and Regale stays locked in her room the entire time.
As she readies for bed, B finds a picture frame tucked in the nightstand drawer. All five of the Diamond family, Regale obviously getting her hair from her father while the son looks a nearly split image of his mother.
In the photo, all of them have eyes.
What is wrong with me?
Loaded with the fact that these people do have faces, that she just cannot see them, B huddles in the corner of the room with the blankets and pillows from the bed. She faces the door and window, prepared in case her hosts are anything less than the kind people they've been so far. Falls asleep to what ifs and picking apart conversations in her head for clues.
;;;
The week passes, fast in the way time flies yet slow as anxiety and fear flex their claws while the hours come and go.
There are two trucks in the entire farmland. Everyone working sits around almost oval-shaped in the back as they drive and are dropped at different fields. B end ups in the morning shift, six to eleven, and switched quickly from the fields to orchard picking as she's one of the few people small enough to fit in the trees without risk of damaging them. It becomes clear that she's also the smallest adult in the village, as practically everyone is averaging six feet with bodies of supermodels.
Day seven in the farmlands hits on a cool day, sun out yet breezy. Annie sits B down after the morning shift and asks if she is going to stay. B thinks of the kind people here, the fun she's had learning songs and backgrounds and bits of this world from them. There is still a barrier of the secrets she keeps, time where she is more of an actor than a person as she pretends before them all. Being on friendly terms with plenty of the townsfolk does not mean she is one of them. For all she has integrated, easy as breathing, into their lives, something might come up. They may not be cannibals or in-your-face cult worshipers, but whatever brought her to this world could still set them off. Or endanger them all.
B thinks of the days spent walking or running, conceptually blind to the dangers of this world. The path to follow, born from the maps in the castle, is practically burned into her head. The next leg of her journey would be to cross the Forsaken Wastes. So much as hinting that her goal is to travel directly north has the blood falling from an adult's face. Many suggest she cross the Valley of Thorns if she must travel that way, but none will explain why.
There is also money to think of. The small pile of coins hidden under a loose floorboard in her room's closet, along with the jewellery sling. For all she is uncomfortable taking off her black outfit – almost like a second skin that she takes into the shower with her even if she doesn't wear it then – the clothes Grace has provided bring a source of comfort. Another layer, something that lets her blend in with the populace. What she's managed to get this week is enough to buy some socks, and that's it. Realistically, once she leaves this place, B can only have the clothing acquired from her kidnapping. It doesn't rip, no tears or wrinkles, and cleans itself nearly all of the time. Never mind food, the coins would be at best a fee for some water. Leaving now would mean stealing enough produce to make it across two, possibly three, kingdoms.
The benefits outweigh the risks no matter how hard she tries to work around them. B agrees to stay for at least a month more, and then is sent out for her afternoon shift with the horses, the delight of the Diamond matriarch behind her. When she gets back from grooming the animals – apparently the horses are to be sent to racers, travellers, or guards, but B has yet to see any kind of training or people riding them – it's to Grace giving her a hug and Regale finally opening up during dinner to her real job as a technical analysist.
"I work for the same bank that dad does," Regale grumbles into her food. "It feels like more of a historical analysist nowadays. I can't get any recent data because of how terrible our maginet connection is out here. They give me the trends and data they want me to go through – sometimes things decades in the past – and I go to the town over once a month to submit my findings and get new stuff."
"It sounds interesting," B offers. "Do you get enough charge to get it all done?"
"Some days are better than others. I've got a solar battery pack. Most people around here with outside-the-village jobs do. Do you have a phone or something that needs charging?"
"Ah, no, but I appreciate you asking."
Regale hums and goes back to eating, a little less tense.
B doesn't sleep in the bed that night, but the one after she puts the nightstand in front of the door and then eases into the mattress. It's a tense hour of waiting, but the nights following have sleep coming easier and easier.
The days fall into a routine, something smooth and almost relaxing as B is given a chance to find her feet in this new world. Mornings picking fruits, afternoon cleaning horses or watching over the herds. Evenings are either dinner with the Diamonds or heading to the giant tavern for a game's night or book club. B finds herself fitting in well with whatever group she chats with – anywhere from the sports fans gathered around the only television to gossip groups to the knitting circle – but clicks best with Regale and her videogame posse.
The gamers all bring router-like boxes, connecting them together in a way that increases the power so any lag won't be too terrible with everyone playing. Some nights are party games, but most of the time they're online with their guild. Each person takes a turn letting B have a go at the game on mobile, and slowly her little stealth robot becomes good enough to start joining them on raids.
At one point, she gets into the swing of planning a large raid with them and several other guilds. B finds it hilarious that she ends up learning with more about a videogame world than about the one she's ended up in, looking on the bright side and throwing herself into motions that are almost familiar. It doesn't mean she comes away emptyhanded about this world; a lot can be learned through media after all. In this world, where the fantasy races are real, what B considers a fantasy game would be more like a post-apocalypse. Dwarves have metal manipulation; any mermaid types can breathe underwater. Therians – which in this world seem to be humans with physical animal features – are all from omnivore or predator ancestors and can see in the dark. Fae can cover themselves with illusions; elves have amazing accuracy. Demigods have their divine parent's specialty. Humans are everywhere.
Literally in this case, as B has yet to meet anyone not human in this town.
Robots are not considered people in this society. In fact, they do not exist as some things in this world are a lot more technologically advanced than others with the help of magic, but in a post-apocalypse videogame world they are a race. The least popular class with a health bar even lower than humans, most people choose a tank class if they do end up playing as a robot. A stealth-bot would be best suited for recon in a guild, and that was what B had in mind at first. Then she couldn't bring herself to join the group's association, too scared they'd use it to find her if she needed to run. In this game, deleting a friend list is easier than removing herself entirely.
On the day of the raid, stocked up on magic-replenishing potions to restore her main attacks – status inflictions – B gets a surprise by seeing another stealth-bot, dressed in the same blue armour as her. The little robot onscreen does a pointing reaction and sends her a message, 'We match!'
Leads to him becoming her first ever online friend in this world, and the reason she considers getting a phone. Any kind of portable screen and keyboard is out of the question, and the more she thinks of carrying around a phone the worse of an idea it seems. Still, it would be a simple pleasure and she misses being able check the time at any moment.
B was right in guessing a masculine pronoun happens to be the default in this world. If a pronoun is not given at meeting, whether the first time ever or during/after a transition, then everyone assumes they are male. A very useful tidbit, especially after picking up on how relationships work in this world. When she leaves this town, B will not give any hints to her biological sex unless health issues arise. Because of the inequality of the male-to-female ratio, men can get away without ever courting while women must state their terms in wordy and no-loophole sentences.
Annie askes B once if she has any interest in dating someone in town, and after B told her as clearly as possible that she has zero interest in entering a romantic or sexual relationship with anyone the glance-overs from several people in the village stopped. Grace seemed to be on cloud nine at B's answer and Regale relaxed a bit. It comes out during a manicure night between the two dark haired women that Grace always has several men wooing her and Regale's long-term boyfriend dumped her and took control of a bunch of things - like their shared apartment - leaving her to move back with her family just as they were in the middle of changing kingdoms.
Only eight people in the farmlands identify as female. It isn't uncommon in this world for a woman to end up with more than one partner. Same in reverse, but with so few women around this is a rarer sight. Annie has been on a few dates since B has been there; apparently her husband goes on a few in the town where he is as well. Grace practically has a harem and B is pretty sure they all let her win at billiards because the woman's form is awful. Regale only hangs around her gamer group when outside, no interest to date as she tries to discover who she is without her ex-boyfriend, whom she dated for over ten years. The types of relationships in town split appear to split between the Diamond ladies' situations; some are a mutual two, or three, or so on. Some are open relationships with either amazing or terrible communication between all involved. Others have no time for that, whether through contentment, resolve, or literally no time.
TechnicallyShroud: My brother wouldn't leave his room today and our professor threatened to fail his next presentation if he didn't come and do it in person (´･ω･`)
B can't help the soft snort as her online friend gripes about his brother's bad habits again. She glances up, double checks that everyone is still distracted with the raid she's too low to tag along for, and then accepts the invitation to teleport to his location. The two robots on screen wave and start going into a low-level mountain dungeon, him being willing to assist leveling her up. He also doesn't comment on how long it takes her to write back, which is extremely nice in her opinion.
Being able to translate written words does not mean it is easy to write them. Half of the time, B isn't even sure if her grammar is correct though she reads it as such.
BB8: Did he not get failed for missing today's presentation?
TechnicallyShroud: No because he did it. Our professor wants him to be physically present next time (-_-;)
BB8: Ahh. How did your presentation go?
TechnicallyShroud: Really great! I think I'm going to get 100% ＼(^o^)／
BB8: Congratulations!
She is going to get a headache from squinting and winking, but the person on the other side is like a ball of sunshine. B isn't going to be the downer, especially since it seems he has even less friends in this game then her. From what little he divulged, his brother is either depressed or has more anxiety and paranoia than B ever had since arriving in this world. That, or he has a harder time keeping the intense emotions from controlling his life. B's learned very quickly that mental health isn't something spoken of in this place and thus cannot just imply the stranger may need help.
It would be easier if she could form proper sentences without fear of a mistranslation. Then maybe she could give at least some more advice than, start small. A few seconds standing outside the door no matter who is there. Then minutes. Then a walk down the hallway.
But she has no idea of the life of these two nor what they are going through. Their parents, guardians, teachers, should be helping, and there really isn't much she can do with how she doesn't want to draw attention. But, but, but….
B cannot bring herself to cut ties. Gets a little itchy about making sure they are okay even though she's warned her online friend that she'll be away for a while. Days at a time where B mingles with others or the gaming group won't hang out.
Some would say it is easier to drop those people never seen.
B realizes she has opened a bit of herself up to tether on something. A person to communicate with online, who only knows her through virtually fighting by her side. Something familiar to her own world. While she enjoys the company of the farmlands inhabitants, it would be easy to cut and run from them. The only regret would be the inability to connect online again, to let TechnicallyShroud know she may not be able to come back on again.
Regale gasps at something on her phone and then hurries to logout of her game. Quickly calls everyone over while she pulls up this world's equivalent of Instagram – Magicam – and loads her brother's page. B shuffles over as well, catching a glimpse of the orange haired Diamond boy in a picture with a green haired teen stuck in bed. Both have eyes here, which means B has to resist an urge to doubletake because she's gotten used to people around here not having them. Squinting a bit to hide the flinch, she reads the caption: 'Send well wishes to our vice head!'
"No way," one of the guys groans. "Trey is one of their star players."
Another asks, "Does it say who's going to replace him?"
Regale grumbles, "If my idiot brother even thinks about it…"
The tournaments, B remembers and hurries back to look at the phone in her hands. It's all everyone has been talking about for weeks. Several high schools – or colleges; B hasn't been able to determine the school-age system – around the world are having tournaments over the next month, and the Diamond brother's is the first to go. They've also been warned that all the connectors in the town are going to be used to watch the games and, now that she thinks about it, it gives B a perfect opportunity to inform her online she'll be away for awhile. Her agreement to stay will be about up halfway through all of the events and, with everyone in town wanting to catch the games, that leaves her the perfect opportunity to get a few more shifts.
Not to steal anything though, no matter how tempting.
The months are the same here as they are back in her world; the only – freighting – difference is that there is no time variance between kingdoms. High noon on the west coast is the same as high noon on the center, north, south, and eastern areas. This means either the world is much bigger than anyone here comprehends, or it isn't round. Or this is all caused by magic and B was never meant to look too closely at the physics of this world.
When her second contract is done, it will be November. That's pushing it more than she'd like, but apparently snowfall is rare before December.
B can see it in their eyes though. They don't think she should try going, especially because the lands beyond the boarder are overrun with monsters. Only, whatever they see is not what she sees. In the pictures of monsters, they look like fantasy horror creatures. Too many eyes, leather hides, anything that draws on fear and disgust and is tough to kill. The few times they took her out for a patrol – taught her how to hold a sword and position a shield – the creatures B has seen are things covered in ink-like goop.
She hasn't killed anything yet, and really doesn't want to. There must be a reason she sees this world differently while in a body of its making. Whether it is to kill these things or not, B will not cross that line until the very end.
The woman is a bit scared to find out that she might be a monster too. Maybe some kind of experiment gone wrong, seeing as the goop creatures want to hurt her the same as any other person. Honestly, from what she's heard about the magic in this world, it wouldn't surprise her. Would likely make her sick if confirmed.
Oh, she has seen bits of magic, but it has so far failed B's expectations. She was expecting to hide, pretending to have some low-level and unprovable magic ability to fit in. There hasn't been confirmation, but from what little she has picked up it sounds like people – from every race – in this world have very few individuals who can use magic. Only three people in the village can use any, and one of them is the Diamond boy who's at a college that only takes those with extreme magical potential. He is an outlier. Maybe a couple thousand people in a kingdom can use magic, and only a quarter of that will have enough to be accepted to a magic school. The other two people in the village fall into the main category of magic users: minor, singular element manipulation. One guy can heat things up to a simmer as long as he's touching it, the other can make a slight breeze.
B was expecting Hogwart's first-year level magic for everyone. This is almost a disappointment, even being the boon it is to know low-level is the norm. Magical tattoos are apparently a thing, but are only possible on mages with a certain level of power. Indiscriminate, inward acting luck barely manages to pass the bar.
Unlike the gender fake-out she's planning, B may just keep up the luck lie. There's some kind of stigma against having a mage as a partner, which makes it even stranger when having some bit of magic gives a person more respect amongst their peers. Since it doesn't seem like there is a horrifying, underlying cause to the issue, she'll take the out if it means less people try to get to know her.
"B!" Regale pokes her. Motions to the laptop. "Help me repick the tournament bracket."
The woman snorts and wishes her online friend well as they both logout. "What makes you think I have any input?"
"Several of Night Raven Academy's top players are out because of injuries. You can't make bad picks if no one knows any of the players."
"Oh, so you just want some luck to rub off. All I'm good for, eh?"
Regale snorts, playful in return as she slings an arm around B's shoulder to pull her closer. "Dork. Ugh, look at these stats. Some of the players are going to be first years. Pomefiore hasn't even updated their player list. They're missing half the team!"
B squints at the recognizable dragon symbol, pulling at memories of people ranting about how good the lead player is. Mal-something Dragon. Well, maybe that's not his name, but since the school is a whole kingdom away, she doesn't feel the need to learn anyone's names. All she really remembers was thinking he was probably type-casted into the dragon dorm. "They're still scored the best."
Regale pauses in her search. Quickly hops over to the Diasomnia board and catches on to B's suspicion, "Weird… Hold on a second."
The Diamond woman is great at her job, and it only displays further as she spreadsheets the dorms and missing players. Cross-references with the previous year's showings and results. Within half an hour, draws a similar conclusion to B's, "Only two dorms haven't needed to switch out any players…"
"So," B pushes back her hair – they'll need to do another ladies night soon to style it again – and catches the tattoos in the screen reflection lighting up red as snippets of conversations go on around her, "do you think they're working together, or that one of them is next?"
Regale heaves a sigh and rests her head on B's shoulder. "Does it matter? I don't think we can do anything about it either way."
B neither agrees nor disagrees. A person who lived in this world would know how it works better than someone who's been there a few months. Still, between the dragon and cat dorms, she'd put money on the dragons coming out on top.
Either way, it's a them problem. With all the hype, B is on the lookout for an event. Something that will screwup her daily life for a bit or – worst case – cause her to move. So far she can't imagine what would do it, but she'll keep an eye out to make sure the Diamond boy doesn't end up playing for his dorm's team.
Not like she can do anything about it, but at least she can be prepared for if he gets seriously injured and she eventually gets kicked out of his room.
;;;
Grim does not make any friends.
A lot of people don't like him.
Even the Scarabia dorm leader – said to be the kindest guy in the school – can barely stand the egotistical and hair-trigger temperament of the monster for more than a bit of time. It appears that everyone is either angry with the creature or has taken to ignoring him, but there are a few people who see an opportunity to manipulate the outcast. It is easy, too. There are very few bribes that Grim won't take, and even fewer times when reverse psychology doesn't work.
Savanaclaw offers him a spot on the team in exchange for keeping silent about their sabotage. After all, there's no rule stating that students from other dorms can't play for another team.
And Grim – who has no friends and no reason to tell the school how the people who don't like him keep getting injured – takes the offer.
Even assists with some of the sabotage.
He is The Great Lord Grim after all.
Soon, the world will know his name.
;;;
B is interested in the Magishift tournaments the same way someone without magic would be interested in Quidditch. It's not because of the sport, chance of terrible viewing, or making fun of the scoring system. She's there to watch because it uses magic.
From what she's seen of the past competitions when Regale goes through the videos, it is an intense Frisbee-like game where people get penalized for touching the disk at any point. The whole idea is to score while keeping the object afloat through only magical means. This also means all magical sabotage is allowed, while physically attacking anyone is not.
As the top educationally scoring school from the previous year, Night Raven College gets to go first in the lineup. The Royal Sword Academy goes the following week, then Glitter Dust Secondary Education the week after, and so on until the week before student end-of-term exams. These tournaments are all inter-school, with the big matchup of school vs. school happening closer to the end of the school year.
The Diamonds and most of the other workers get out of working in the fields for this. B tags along, sneaking a chair into the already overcrowded table with Annie and Grace. Regale and any others with a way to increase reception work their figurative magic to get a better signal for the high definition and only television in this town. B will head out to make some extra cash after the first game, but in the moment is getting as excited as the others for the big event.
"Night Raven College always puts on a great show," Annie hypes it up further. "Their kids always end up as potential league members. Most of the third years are scouted for teams if they participate in this, even if they don't make it on to the school representative team. It really is a crying shame so many people got injured this year."
"Sounds like it," B mutters, still highly suspicious on how she and Regale seem to be the only ones who put two-and-two together. Everyone else thinks too bad and don't seem to realize there are only two dorms unaffected by this mass injuring.
Not even the injuries in the other schools combined equal the total of players in Night Raven College unable to compete. B would be certain whoever's doing this to be stupid for enacting such an obvious plan – whether by red herring it or not – but she's more concerned that it's working. If these people are unable to notice that two of seven dorms have not had any people changed out of their roster this past week, then it's no wonder this world is stuck in the middle of a monster infestation. The invention of smartphones here was probably the biggest accident to occur in decades.
Seriously, B grumbles in her head, turning to watch as the opening ceremonies for Night Raven College appears on screen. No one's mentioned any suspicions. It's all 'too bad they got injured' and 'how unfortunate'.
She'd almost believe they were in on the scheme if it weren't for everyone here wanting Heartslabyul to win because of the Diamond boy.
B breaks from theorizing as – with echoing gasps – the crowd falls silent. Everyone watches as a mob of people burst into the stadium, charging for the green and black dressed team.
The camera cuts off before the people hit.
"What…?" Annie manages to gasp out, shaken and afraid. "What just happened?"
B blinks. Realizes the entire room is filled with scared people, and that she herself is confused by it all. Doesn't dare to make a noise; no need to draw attention to the fact she doesn't understand anything about this.
She stays in the center of the confused, panicked gathering. Watches the television until it comes on, and then starts signalling with others to turn their attention so they can all hear.
Hundreds injured. Thousands panicking. Several players of the green and black team severely wounded or hitting magical exhaustion. With the world watching, Night Raven College works on damage control and wastes no more than a few hours setting everything back up for the first game of the tournament.
From what B understands by the complaints in the room, these are the worst games of Magishift ever broadcasted. All except the one-sided slaughters produced by the dorm who never had a single player injury.
B brands Savanaclaw in her mind as a group she doesn't want to mess with. Not if they, a supporter, or a hater of them can produce a scheme on this level and get away with it.
That's the real question she wants no part in answering, even if it feels like this world has set her up to do so. Did the Savanaclaw dorm know this was going to happen, or is someone trying to frame them?
Better question: why does nobody here care? Night Raven College tells them everything is under control, and the populace believes it without a remark about an investigation.
She covers her tattooed right eye and wonders with a scared sort of disbelief what type of world this really is.
A/N: When the daily life parts get exchanged for exposition overload. Whoops. As much as I enjoyed the Savanaclaw arc, the plan feels like it should have fallen apart after a handful of people were injured. With no one stopping it, there are a lot of consequences that may or may not get explored.
Thank you so much for reading! A really big thank you to guisniperman, NihthKuro, Guest, xenocanaan, Guest, piapie, and AmazingAnimeAmulet for reviewing! The support truly means a lot!
I hope everyone is well and has a great day! Please take care