A/N: Hi! Second story! This time a fun romp of an isekai return. The story is complete and if you want to read it head to Spacebattles or SufficientVelocity. Have fun reading!
Taylor walked out of the bathroom clad in her frayed pajamas with their faded symbols that were once upon a time legible, displaying the stylized grinning head of Mouse Protector. Her entire body was taut with stress, as she knew well that the next day she would be returning to her personal hell, Winslow High School for the Burgeoning Thugs and Thugettes.
The Christmas break provided her with some well-needed rest despite the total apathy that enveloped her house and the total absence of Christmas cheer. Sure, her dad had put up a tree, a small and ancient plastic one that had lost almost all of its fake leaves over the years collecting dust in the attic. Then they spent half an hour apathetically hanging up Christmas ornaments before her father made some excuse and left for his office to continue working.
She sat there for a few minutes and continued the procedure with a sour face before giving up and putting away the box that contained the ornaments. The tree was left as it was, barely a quarter covered with dusty and old ornaments in the corner of the living room. The last time she took an effort to look at it, it was covered in even more dust. So much that she couldn't even tell what color were the ornaments.
Taylor sat down on the edge of her bed, took out her brush, one that her mother had given her. It was old, and she should have probably gotten a new one, but she never had the strength to do it. She began to untangle her hair, the only feminine activity she kept up with nowadays, as an homage to her dearly departed mother, as it was futile to even try anything with what was happening in Winslow. And it wasn't like anyone would go for the dumpy, frog-like Taylor, so there was no point even trying to figure out how she could pretty herself up.
Reaching that point in her depressing circular thoughts that seemed to permeate her life nowadays, she sighed and started to comb her hair with a little more force. The thought of going back to that hellhole filled her with such dread that she had to stop for a second before she ripped out a big chunk with the ancient comb, and calm herself down with a breathing exercise she had picked up from a book. She hoped it would help her keep calm under Emma's barrage of insults.
Didn't really work out, but at least she could say she was passable with it. One more point in the Taylor is useless column.
Once again she entertained the thought of simply opening her door, taking a few steps towards her father's room, and telling him everything, but after his 'performance' during the winter break, she was more sure than ever, that if she did that, he would simply collapse into himself.
Finishing the combing, she stood up then placed the comb on her desk, then took a look at the only picture in the room not covered in some amount of dust. Every time she noted that there was too much dust, she promised herself she would clean it up later, but somehow she never managed to get time for it, despite literally having no social or home life, and spending her life, when not suffering in the school in front of the television, reading or trying to do something with the ancient computer.
The picture contained her mother, her dad, and her on a field of grass, in the middle of a picnic, all beaming with happiness.
She raised the picture and hovered her finger over her mother's smiling face, then she placed it back into its place, helpfully marked by the absence of dust, then with a quick motion she turned around while clearing the gathered tears out of her eyes with the hem of her too-short pajama.
Then, after taking a few steps with her too-long and gangly legs, she threw herself at her aged bed, listening as the springs creaked upon her body's impact. She contemplated reaching for a book on her nightstand, a novel her mother loved, but it was already late, and she knew she would need all her strength on the first day back. So instead, Taylor covered herself with her blanket, trying to protect herself from the chilly January weather, noting that they would need to check the insulation around her window, then closed her eyes, and tried to fall asleep.
After trying to count sheep, giving her breathing exercise another go, and even extracting herself from the blanket nest she created and getting a glass of lukewarm water (they were, of course, out of milk), she finally managed to fall asleep after a few hours of tossing and turning.
Taylor woke up hurting all over, feeling like a dirty rag that was thrown against the wall, then dipped into hot viscous syrup. Her joints ached, and she could feel she was drenched in sticky sweat. Upon opening her eyes in confusion, she could barely make out anything, noting she wasn't wearing her glasses, and her wet and sticky hair was also obscuring her vision.
Trying to ignore her heartbeat that sounded like it was beating rather irregularly next to her ears, obscuring almost every sound, she tried to make out what the blobs above her were saying. She also tried to raise her hand, to clear out her eyes, but she found to her horror that she was too weak to even do that much.
As she was beginning her internal panicking, the shapes above her entirely left her thoughts. Her only thought was she was somehow trapped, unable to move. She even thought about the Trio sneaking into her home and poisoning her. It, after all, made perfect sense. They even stopped doing their usual activities before the winter break, so they must have been planning this.
She felt herself began breathing harder and faster, and her heart hammering in her chest picked up the pace, and the sound in her ears turned into war drums, beating an erratic rhythm.
Her inner turmoil and panic, laced with self-hatred, was broken by a yell by one of the shapes above her.
"…yna…ess…"
Taylor tried to turn her head, but all the energy she expended during her panic caught up with her and she was once again enveloped by darkness.
The next time she woke, she was once again on a bed, still drenched in sweat and barely strong enough to lift even her pinky finger. At least the shapes somewhat cleared up, her eyes now seeing more details. Sadly, that didn't seem to help, as the ceiling that greeted her was unknown to her.
Did those bitches kidnap her?
Or maybe was this part of the process of the rumored Farm that people said the ABB run for the girls they kidnapped?
Probably not, as Taylor was sure, that not even the ABB wanted anything to do with her too tall, too frog-like body.
Sadly, that was about as much as she could make out before she felt exhaustion creeping in, and was once again smothered in darkness.
The same thing happened a few more times, though she didn't know how much time had really elapsed, as seemingly every time she woke, the sun was shining through the window. Though thankfully her vision, over her wakeful periods, seemed to be clearing up, and she would even go so far as to say that it seemed to be getting better than it was before she woke up in this mysterious place.
By the time she had enough energy to stay awake for more than a minute, and not to immediately begin panicking about her situation, Taylor could clearly see where she was. Or more like the room she was laying in.
She could see wooden beams holding up the roof, the walls covered with wood, and the window was filled with weird opaque glass. Yet despite her situation, she couldn't see or even her any medical technology or even any kind of modern technology. And the sheet under her was coarse and she could feel the individual threads in the blanket covering her tired and sticky body with her weak fingers.
To her, it all seemed so antiquated and old-fashioned.
Straining her dwindling energy reserves, hoping that somebody would come through the door (made of wood of course) and would explain to her what the hell was happening, she continued looking around, trying to spot something that would help explain what happened. Sadly, it seemed that wouldn't be happening anytime soon, as she felt herself once again slip back into unconsciousness.
Her last jumbled thought was about her dad, and wonder if he was missing her.
The next time she woke up, she felt much better. Her thoughts still felt a little sluggish, but she had the energy to raise herself into the sitting position, resting on her palms for a second, before leaning back on the headrest and looking around curiously hoping to spot something, as whatever happened seemed to have healed her eyes.
They probably called in a parahuman healer. Maybe Panacea? Then she snorted. As if they would call someone like Panacea for her.
She still felt like she had been wrung out and beaten black and blue, but at least her sight and mind weren't in a permanent haze. She tried yelling out for somebody, but the only thing that came out of her throat was an almost silent croak.
With her first plan foiled, she decided to leave her bed and look for somebody that could finally explain where she was, and a glass of water to wet her incredibly dry lips and hoarse throat. So, Taylor uncovered her body, did a quick cursory examination of it, making sure nothing untoward happened while she was out, then after she found nothing (not even a scar indicating a missing kidney), aside from the loss of her pudgy stomach, she slowly and carefully turned to the side and moved her legs so that they were dangling off the side of the bed surprisingly large bed.
She was about to take the metaphorical leap when the door banged open.
Her head whipped around and beheld a girl, around her age, with ashen blond hair up in twin tails. Despite the downright medieval (late middle age, maybe even Renaissance-style noted a part of her brain) clothing she wore, Taylor could clearly see that she was beautiful.
The moment the other girl's eyes found Taylor's, her face lit up with a smile and exclaimed.
"Taylor, you are up!"
Before she could answer, the girl appeared next to her and placed down the rough metal bowl and pitcher in her hand onto the nightstand sitting next to the bed.
Taking a deep breath, the girl splashed a little water from the pitcher into the bowl, and took the towel hanging from her belt, and put it into the water, then raised it towards Taylor's face and began talking a mile a minute while also slowly beginning to clean her face.
"Oh my god, we were so worried, Taylor!" She began dabbing Taylor's face with the now cold-ish towel, removing the sweat that seemed to be trying to permanently stick to her face, ignoring as Taylor watched her incredulously. "That nasty fever you got was horrible. Dad had to call in the Dwayna priestess, but she cast some kind of blessing, and after that, you were getting better real fast." Pausing the cleaning for a second, she gave her a tender smile. "Me and dad were right worried about you! But now you are better, so everything is okay!"
Taylor's first instinct was to correct the girl about her grammar, and the second was to ask who the hell she was. But before she could do any of those, a sharp pain lanced through her head and she had to raise her hand and grab her head as the pain seemed to be trying to split his skull open.
"Taylor! What's wrong? Talk to me, Taylor!"
She ignored as the girl kept yelling at her, as she was preoccupied with the searing pain that seemed to be originating from the top of her head, yet seemed to be trying to make sure that every square inch of her body felt the pain.
Taylor felt herself fall back on her back and start thrashing, trying to get rid of the pain or do anything that would get rid of the immense pain shooting through her body, while the girl who just seconds ago was talking to her was yelling, and seemed to be crying above her.
She heard more yelling and banging as if somebody was running towards them on wooden floors. And then the only thing she could hear was someone screaming.
Taylor had a second or so to realize she was screaming in pain before there was a deep manly voice, a flash of light, and the familiar darkness swallowed her and with it, the pain.
A few days later Taylor sat on the roof of the Merchant's Coin inn, watching as the last rays of the sun dipped behind the gigantic walls of Divinity's Reach, hiding behind the silhouettes of the tall towers that dotted it, and the stars that showed up on the canvas of the rapidly darkening sky.
The position she was in was strangely familiar, yet at the same time she knew perfectly well, this was the first time she had ever done this.
The reason for this was that after the horrible headache tried to kill her, she woke up with two sets of memories. The first set and the dominant was her own, Taylor Hebert's memories, while the other one was the memories of a commoner girl from Kryta, named Taylor who lived in Divinity's Reach, the apparently last bastion of humanity in Tyria.
It seemed, when she fell asleep in her own bed back in Brockton Bay, someone somehow transported her to an alternate dimension, which was still in the Middle Age, where the seemingly highest level of technology was that of the horse-drawn carriage.
Still looking up at the stars, resting on the tilted roof of the inn, where she, that is the other Taylor worked and lived, with her sort-of adopted family of Andrew the innkeeper and best friend Petra, she stretched out of her hand, with her palm upwards and concentrated briefly while scrunching up her eyebrows.
After a quick exertion of something that she still had a hard time wrapping her head around, a small walnut-sized ball of flame appeared in her open palm, crackling merrily.
And she apparently had powers. Or according to the memories she inherited from the other Taylor, magic.
She was kinda iffy on calling it magic, but the fact that she was taught by some of the other people of the Salma District and learned about people using all sorts of magic in her classes at the local orphanage seemed really convincing.
But maybe due to the fact it was a Middle Age society, they didn't have the knowledge to scientifically examine the powers, so they simply called them magic.
Taylor extinguished the fascinating flame in her palm, closed her eyes, and thought back to the past few days.
After awakening and happily noting that no, her head wasn't cut into two with a rusty saw, and internally freaking out about her new set of memories, she was swept up in the worry and relief of Petra her apparent best friend, and her father Andrew.
While she was freaking out about why two unknown people were hugging her and, in Petra's case, crying in relief, her brain supplied the relevant information. The body she now inhabited (which for some reason looked exactly like her old one right down to the smallest details, except in much better shape) belonged to an orphan who when she was small made friends with Petra, and when she got eleven, Petra convinced her dad to allow Taylor to work at the inn, in theory, to learn a craft, but in reality, because Petra wanted her playmate close to her or so she told Taylor. Not long after, she moved out of the orphanage and into a small storage room in the inn, repurposed just for her. They didn't adopt her per se, but the previous owner of the body called Andrew her uncle, and sometimes deep in her heart, father.
By the time she was fifteen and some, she was cleaning, cooking, and doing busy work around the inn, and recently Andrew allowed both her and Petra to start working as waitresses. Taylor couldn't help but feel sad upon reliving those memories.
The previous owner of the body was happy, without much worry, and with a loving, albeit unorthodox, family. It was a truly enviable position, general situation notwithstanding.
Using her meager acting skills, she convinced both Petra and Andrew that she was feeling alright, despite their insistence on calling the priestess to check on her. After reluctantly extracting herself from their hugs, she took her first bath in a while, which, of course, was a simple washbasin filled with cold water and some soap.
After swearing to herself to invent hot showers, she took a quick bath, dressed in the unflattering clothing that Petra gave her (apparently, some things didn't change even if she swapped dimensions), and then she went to look for Andrew to ask for a task to do, based on her new memories.
To her relief and surprise, he told her that in no uncertain terms should she do any work for a few days, as she was still recovering. So, she simply wandered around, visiting places around the inn that were at the same time familiar yet totally unknown to her, dodging drunk patrons with grabby hands and trying and failing to avoid chatting with the ever chipper Petra.
After exhausting the places to visit in the surprisingly large, well built, and most of all relatively clean inn, and deciding that she didn't want to brave the outside world yet, she looked for a place where she could think in solitude in her new memories.
That's how she ended up on the roof, watching the stars and trying a few simple magical spells that the original owner of the body learned.
Apparently, recalling what the other Taylor was taught, magic was everywhere in the world, and everyone was capable of making use of it on some level. Some could only light candles, while some could raise islands from the sea and erase mountains from existence.
When she was small, she, or rather the other Taylor, fascinated with magic, begged the people around the Salma District to teach her. Some refused, but there were several bored old people, who were delighted to share whatever scraps of knowledge they scraped together during their life.
By the time Taylor took over, the original was a rather accomplished mage by the District's standard, knowing an even dozen spells. She even had her own gnarly wooden staff that would look at home in Gandalf's hand, down in her room, which at first she thought was a coat hanger or some weird art. The staff itself was a present from Andrew and Petra for her fifteenth birthday.
Taylor was about to try out another spell when she heard the window right under her perch bang open.
"Taylor, stop brooding, and come down! Dinner is ready!"
She sat up, and after a little shimmying, got into a position so that she could look down, only to meet with the grinning face of Petra.
"I wasn't brooding."
"Sure…" Answered Petra with an even bigger grin on her face, her eyes telling her she was prepared to argue her point ad nauseam.
Taking one last look at the stars, Taylor sighed and decided that she could deal with existential questions later, as both of her life's experiences told her that there was no way in heaven or hell that she would win this argument.
As she climbed down on the well-known and yet totally new path, she decided it wasn't that bad of a thing. As the meals in the inn were excellent compared to what she had been expecting, and after the bland fare that she had consumed over the winter break with her father, every pinch of spice counted.
After a few days of rest, she was finally given leave to rejoin the workforce of the inn and continue her previous duties. Which was a genuine relief to Taylor, as the inn didn't contain a lot of books or other entertainment material aside from alcohol, so she had to spend her resting days either sleeping, wandering around the inn or outside, or listen to Petra chattering about everything and nothing. Mostly about the gossip she had missed when she was laid out in the bed sick.
It took her several days to realize that Petra had nothing to do with Winslow or Emma and to warm up to her. Of course, the other girl noticed none of this. She just thought Taylor was still out of it after the horrible sickness that ravaged her.
She tried to remedy this by bringing Taylor small scones from the neighborhood bakery, or even making her tea every night before she would join her on the roof, staring at the stars and chatting until Andrew called for them.
At first, it was only Petra who talked, not that she seemed to mind, but slowly and surely Taylor joined in, making use of her new memories to talk with the girl, lest she arouse suspicion, who was showing her more warmth and emotion than she could remember anyone doing in the past year.
She still woke every other night from a nightmare, some about waking back up in her own bed with Emma laughing above her telling her it was just a joke, that she could never be happy, or about Andrew and Petra finding out that she was not their Taylor and casting her out. Joined with the nightmares generated by the facts she had learned about the world.
Giant monsters, periodic centaur attacks, zombies, and who knows what else was waiting for her outside of the walls…
The work went as well as it could. She started on cleaning, which, thanks to her practice at home and the memories went easily enough, only the fact she had to do it the entire day as guests came and went, leaving small and big messes everywhere, caused her issues.
After a week of work, she already had enough of chamberpots.
So, after the first full week of work, she approached Andrew and asked if she could take the weekend off to clear her head and go for a simple walk. Her nominal uncle simply laughed and told her to go nuts, just to be sure to keep to the city or the surrounding village.
Taylor needed some free time because she really wanted to gather her thoughts and experiment with magic, as it seemed practicing throwing fireballs in the middle of the district wasn't the smartest thing to do. As she had learned when she somehow misfired a small fireball and it exploded in an empty alleyway near the inn.
Luckily, nobody knew it was her, but the number of guards around the area increased the following days, looking for the perpetrator.
So on the early morning of the first day of the weekend, she dressed in somewhat rougher clothing than usual, took up her gnarled staff, etched with runes and all sorts of arcane symbols, and with a small friendship charm hanging from its branches, a bag containing her lunch and jug of water and began her trek towards the village of Shaemoor.
She bade goodbye to Petra, who was boredly cleaning the counter, and Andrew and a few regulars who were already there staring at half-full tankards, looking for the meaning of life, and started walking to the exit of the Salma District.
She weaved through the early morning crowd that was heading towards or back from the market, while also curiously looking around. After all, she already saw all these things in her memories, but they were still different from her technically new perspective. The towering walls, the multitudes of styles and shapes of buildings, and the sheer size of everything caused her to be awestruck.
Directing her attention towards the people around her, she could see the difference between the commoners, the servants of the nobles out on errands, and she could even spot a few street rats darting between the unsuspecting crowd and snatching this and that from their carriages, packs, or even pockets.
It reminded her so much of Brockton Bay that she almost started crying. However, steeling herself, she sniffed a few times and removed the gathered moisture from the corner of her eyes with the hem of her rough shirt, and continued towards her goal.
It took her only twenty minutes to find her way out of the district to the central part of the city, a grand circular street bedazzled with uncountable stalls, shops, and other establishments by people from all walks of life, religion, or culture, surrounding the fabled Upper City, which housed the elite and ruling class of this gigantic city.
Sadly, the fastest way to the south gate was closed for her, as she was merely a commoner, but after being turned around a few times by the dizzying array of merchants and the incredible size of the crowd and with the help of a few nice guardsmen and women she found herself before the gigantic doors that led to the great outdoors.
Lacking a watch, she wasn't exactly sure how long it really took to get there, but Taylor was certain it took her at least several hours just to reach these magnificent gates guarded by elite Seraph troops. She took a few minutes to catch her breath, taking a seat on a bench on the side of the main road and resting her aching feet (making a note to look into magic boots of extra comfort), and just marvel at the wondrous feat of engineering before her.
After a few minutes of rest, she stood up and with determined steps headed for the open gates, joining the crowd. It was harrowing and altogether an unpleasant experience, but after another short twenty minutes, she was on the other side of the great gates in even more ruffled clothing and even more sweaty.
With a huff of exasperation, and swatting the sweaty hair out of her eyes, she once again began purposefully walking towards her goal.
On the west side of the village of Shaemoor, on the cliffside that led to the dam that protected the valley from floods was a small patch of forest that was empty of any big game, as it was too close to the city or the village, yet nobody went there because there was nothing valuable there.
Or at least nothing that can be made use of or exploited.
There was, after all, a lovely little clearing in the middle of that small patch of forest that was known to everybody, and according to Petra, who was gossip personified, it was the place to meet if you wanted to have a romantic rendezvous without people knowing you were meeting with somebody.
A hike later, much more tired and drenched in even more sweat, she arrived at the clearing. While cutting through the village square, the wares laid out by wandering merchants almost entranced her, but her lack of money (and lack of knowledge) sadly forced her to only take a quick peek at the multitude of offerings.
The clearing was empty, thankfully, of amorous couples and even contained some well-sized rocks she could use as targets. So Taylor hung up her bag on a branch to make sure it was out of the reach of any wandering skritt and then took a step forward with her staff held in her sweaty hand.
Taking a deep breath, she reached for that elusive feeling that heralded the feeling of magic, and then took hold of it, and channeled it through her body, towards her hand, then from there towards her arm, and from there into the staff. The staff's gnarly head gained an orange glow, and then a fist-sized fireball materialized over it before it launched towards the rock she was aiming at. The fireball reached her target within seconds and exploded in a spectacular fashion.
She had around a few seconds to celebrate her success, before realizing that fire in a forest was not the best idea, and the grass was indeed burning, and she should really put it out.
Calming down after she almost exhausted herself stomping on the smoldering grass, Taylor decided maybe she should make sure she could conjure water before experimenting with fire magic more.
Before that, however, she rested her staff on a tree and opened her bag, and took out an apple (which weirdly looked the same as on Earth Bet) and her water. While snacking, she couldn't help but feel happy.
Even if it wasn't the most powerful power she could have, she still had some manner of power. She still had no idea if it was parahuman power or it was real magic, but with her current level of access to scientifically minded people, it probably didn't matter. She would need to be much richer and powerful before she could delve into those topics, and hopefully figure out a way to get home. For now, she decided on concentrating on getting stronger and better at handling her power.
After all, slow and steady wins the race…
Finished with her late lunch, she cleaned her hand and took up her staff, and aimed at the slightly charred rock once again. The sensation was the same, but this time, instead of the warm orange glow, the head of the staff gloved cold and blue before a fist-sized water ball appeared over it and then flew towards the rock, followed by splashing harmlessly against it.
Taylor growled in frustration at the sad sight of her water ball, as she knew from her recently acquired memories that most people used water magic for healing, but nobody knew or was willing to teach her how to add the healing attribute to her water spells. She was at least happy that she now knew she was capable of putting out any fires she may start.
The next spell she tried out was the Gust spell. As an offensive spell, it was rather useless, but at least it cooled her down. And if she spent several minutes playing with the spell, using it to gather up loose leaves on the ground and swirl around her like a veritable Disney princess, well then there was nobody who could see her. Hopefully.
After having enough of the swirling and dancing leaves, she watched as they slowly fell to the ground after ending the spell, and then thought about her next two spells.
The first one was a simple earth-type spell that fired a similar projectile like the fireball and water ball, and after a quick try, she saw it was exactly like that. The next, however, was one of her more complex spells.
Following the memorized motions she concentrated and the next second five small crudely shaped daggers made of rock appeared hovering above her and she could feel a good chunk of magic leaving her body. With a flex of a will, and the rock daggers flew at a tree instead of the abused rock and sank into its flesh with a satisfying sound, causing Taylor to smile.
Now that showed some promise!
One of the older ladies living near the inn taught that spell to the other Taylor, saying that the young girl needed something potent to protect herself with. At the time of the lessons, the younger girl didn't understand the look the older woman gave her, but the current Taylor, after growing up in Brockton Bay, understood exactly where the woman was coming from.
She really wanted to experiment with it a few times, but she was afraid she would run out of magic for the other spells waiting to be tested. So instead she tried a spell that the other Taylor put together based on hearsay and some fragmented knowledge gleaned from the elders around her.
Taking her staff, and aiming at a solid-looking patch of ground, she shaped the magic and fired off the spell she called Unsteady Ground. The effect wasn't as awe-inspiring as she expected, as the ground simply began bubbling and churning as if a few dozen mice were running under a blanket.
Staring blankly at it, she sighed and with a quick step stood on it, trying to see how useful it actually was.
As she could stand straight without much trouble, it seemed not much. Maybe after some practice?
Disappointed, she waited until the magic she put into the spell ran out, then took her magic, and instead of casting a spell she simple shaped the earth in front of her into a crude but deep bowl. Then, using the principles of the water ball spell, she filled it with water to the brim. Then took a deep breath and shot off another spell.
She watched anxiously, hoping that it would succeed because, if not, she would probably murder someone. Then a second later, she could see the bubbles appearing and another moment later the entire bowl of water was bubbling, releasing steam in significant amounts.
"Yes! Hot bath, here I come!"
The exclamation was followed by a silly happy dance, now that she was sure she wouldn't need to suffer the indignity of cold baths anymore.
Calming down from the excitement, she returned to her task of trying out all the spells she 'knew'. The next one on her list was Blinding Flash. And after she managed to blink out the spots from her eyes, she made a note to invent a magic spell that would protect her eyes from that.
Then she rushed through her non-elemental spells, which were the first thing she was taught, Arcane Shield and Arcane Blast. Not that spectacular compared to the previous elemental spells she tried, but she could see their potential.
Feeling a mite tired, she sat down on the grass and adopted the meditative position that one old grumpy man taught her after it turned out she actually had a talent for magic. It was a sort of breathing exercise and meditation in one. It helped recharge her mana batteries, so to speak, and using the mana helped heal her body.
The old man, a retired soldier (though he didn't say from which army), told her it was the same thing that was taught to recruits who had talent with mana, but was clear on it that despite teaching everybody the same thing, everybody used it differently. There were also countless types of these kinds of exercises; every school, every institution had its own, and there were some noble houses who passed them down from ages past.
But at the basic level, it was about breathing with the world, taking in mana and then circulating through the body in a specific way, then exhaling it. And as she breathed in, held it for a second, and directed the mana in her body, she could understand why it was so popular. She could already feel her aches after the trek vanishing, her tiredness fading, and the magic in her recharging.
Taylor was definitely was looking more deeply into how this thing worked because the sheer potential of it, even to her limited knowledge, was awe-inspiring.
After an unknown amount of time, she exhaled one last time, feeling as refreshed as she could be, and slowly stood up and stretched a little. She tried this exercise back at the inn, but it was so much different doing after exhausting herself that it shook her a little.
Shaking her head once again, she looked up at the sky. The sun was going down (based on the other Taylor's knowledge), so if she wanted to get back in time, she needed to finish soon. Fortunately, she only had one last spell to test, though based on her memories, it was one of the weirdest and definitely the most complex.
Gripping her staff with one hand, she began channeling her magic, while with her free hand began going through a complex set of motion. Instantly, visible magic appeared in front of her, taking a shape of what her teachers called a glyph. More precisely, the glyph of lesser elemental.
According to the man that had taught her, it was capable of summoning a lesser elemental (not in power, but mental faculties) of any element the caster was familiar with, but to this date, the other Taylor only managed to call upon earth elementals.
And as she finished the casting of the spell, that was exactly what happened. The ground in front of her shook a little, then broke up, and the pieces levitated into the air, then mushed together in the form of a dog. The dog itself was shaped like a midget german shepherd she once saw a rich lady walk on the Broadwalk. It was extremely cute, despite its craggy appearance. The only special thing about it was that instead of rock eyes, it had empty eye sockets filled with merrily crackling fires. Which, upon seeing her, narrowed in delight, and the dog jumped at her, wagging its tail.
Unbidden to her came the memory of the elementals name, and as she caught the surprisingly light elemental, she yelled out its name at the same time.
"Flamy!"
The dog answered with a joyful bark, that to Taylor sounded like two rocks grinding together. As she hugged the excited dog elemental, everything rushed back at her. The hopelessness of her life, the terror of the sickness, the confusion of her arrival into a new dimension, and how she missed her father.
Taylor hugged the dog closer to her, as she cried for the first time arriving into Kryta fully and without abandon. The dog was confused at first, but then it simply began licking her face with its dry and craggy tongue, and Taylor couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Ignoring everything, her training plans, the past, the future, and everything else, she spent the remaining time playing with the excitable elemental. And by the time her mana ran out to maintain it, she was feeling much better. So, she dismissed Flamy after a tearful hug, packed up her equipment and bag, and began her return trip to the city and the inn.
She still had no idea what she should do with her life, or what the hell happened, but she knew crying about it wouldn't help anybody. If she wanted to get home to her father and survive this death world (and probably Earth Bet too) she needed to get better, stronger, and more knowledgeable.
But for now small steps. First figuring out this magic thing, then getting enough money together to get access to more knowledge, and then…
Then she would figure that out when she got there.
Five years later
Taylor took a quick look in the small mirror that was hanging next to the door and checked her hair, looking for any stray hairs. Finding none, she nodded to herself happily, made sure her personal Arcane Shield that was practically melded to her skin was still operating optimally, then left her much changed room.
Over the years, it gained a proper cabinet exchanging the old chest and several bookshelves and a small writing desk with an enchanted lamp. It also contained knickknacks, gifts, and drawings she had collected over the years. This arrangement left almost no empty space, but she didn't mind. Her new lifestyle left her surprisingly little free time, so she mostly only spent time in her room when she was sleeping or meditating.
With care, she locked the door with the enchanted lock she bought from a traveling asura merchant because recently Petra had taken to raiding her closet for her clothing. Apparently, her smaller-sized clothing helped accentuate Petra's assets, so every time the other girl was on a hunt for a new boyfriend, to the consternation of her father, she went and raided her closet. Because sadly, even after five years, she hadn't developed something impressive.
Oh, sure, she filled out, and lost that gangly teenager shape, thanks to time and an insane amount of exercise and some healthy living, but she would never rival anyone in bust size. Though she took great pride in that, at least her legs were better looking than Petra's.
She enjoyed wearing long tight pants, with simple but comfortable (and enchanted for comfort) boots, shirts that showed off her figure, and jackets with hoods (she even commissioned a seamstress a few fluffy hoodies for those cold winters). She also had a nifty belt that contained a pouch that was enchanted to contain more than it could. She always had some rations, water, emergency clothing, and a dagger or two in it, next to a few books in case she got bored. It was one of her prized possessions as it took a good chunk out of the money she gathered by working around the inn and the district by tutoring people or teaching children arithmetic and reading.
Her trusty staff that had long ago stopped providing her with a boost in anything was in her hand, clanking on the floor with every step as she headed down the now-familiar steps. Nowadays, she only used it for aiming or when she wanted to practice fighting with a staff.
With graceful steps she descended on the stairs joining the throng of people populating the main hall of the inn, waved and greeted some of the regulars that were still looking for meaning of life at the bottom of a pint, and approached the bar where Andrew was calmly, and leisurely cleaning a glass while the servers and the other bartender worked around him like bees around their queen.
Taylor couldn't help but smile, seeing him doing that, as the glass he was cleaning was a gift from her. She had it enchanted to be unbreakable and was unable to become dirty. She intended it as a joke gift, playing on the stereotypical cleaning-with-a-rag bartender image, but Andrew loved it, and he used it to bean misbehaving patrons on the head with it.
"Hey, Andrew. I'm going out, will be back later."
The older man turned fully towards her, gave her a genuine smile, and nodded.
"Good. Be careful." Then his face turned a little frustrated. "Do you know where Petra is?"
"I think with Fred. Or was it George? What day is it?" answered Taylor with a rueful smile.
Andrew just sighed exasperatedly.
"Just go… And if you see her, tell her she has work to do!"
"Will do!"
With a smart salute, she turned around and expertly and with great care navigated the crowd and left the inn. Her feet automatically took her towards her goal, while her magic, attuned to air, wrapped around her, accelerating her. What took her so long ago several hours, now thanks to her experience and magic, took barely half an hour.
She absentmindedly said hello to the people she knew, mostly guards and a few merchant stalls she frequented, but her mind was entirely on her self-appointed task for the day. She was going to try out a spell that she had heard about just this week, and it filled her with a small level of excitement.
Taylor spent the last five years, when not working or spending time with Petra and her new friends (she was still forbidden to enter the Crown Pavilion after Petra convinced her to have some fun, and she after a few drinks agreed) training her magic. Sadly, due to the fact she didn't really have access to a structured learning environment or even a proper library, she had to make do with the spells she could invent for herself. So she spent most of her training on the basics, control, efficiency, and increasing her magical capacity. Taylor also spent a lot of time exercising, both enhanced with magic (a punch enhanced by an Arcana Blast was something that everybody tried to avoid) and without it.
According to the good Captain Thackeray, who she had met a few years ago when a patrol spotted her training in the woods and he was called in to deal with whoever was causing the ruckus, there were actual dedicated places for the citizens to practice magic. The handsome captain gave her a dressing down and told her she should warn the guards if she wanted to practice to avoid panic, but otherwise left her unpunished, just mortified.
And over the years, she had met with the man a few more times, with Petra teasing her every time about her crush on the older man. The man sometimes even took the time out of his busy schedule to spar with her, which she handily lost if they did it without magic. However, when she was allowed to use it, she had at least a chance to win their match.
The Captain even offered her to join the guards with a promise of fast-tracking to an officer position.
Regretfully, she refused, as she didn't really want to be under someone's command. No matter how tempting it was, as an officer, she would have access to knowledge that she couldn't even dream about as a commoner. Luckily, Thackeray didn't take offense, just told her the offer was always open, and she should contact any guard if she changed her mind.
Ever since then, every guard in the Salma District treated her with much more respect, compared to before where most of them were content to just ignore her.
As she practically weaved between the crowd, heading for the south gate, clad in a thin aura of air, she thought back on the first fact she found about her power. She could, with great concentration, attune to a particular element. Meaning, the specific element chosen to be attuned to would get boosted both in damage and also in its effectiveness while also prohibiting her from casting spells from other elements. She tried to attune to two or more elements, but she failed every time.
Her collection of cantrips also grew. Aside from her breathing exercise, Ether Renewal, which she practiced with religious fervor, both before falling asleep and after waking up, she also figured out how to use simple telekinesis and to the joy of Petra and Andrew and, of course, her own, a cleaning spell.
Following the discovery, the Merchant's Coin became the cleanest inn in the district.
On the side of fighting, over the years she decided that trying to master all her spells was a futile effort, so she concentrated on a few, while also making sure that she didn't get rusty using the others.
Taylor's favorite offensive spell was the Vaporblade, which took a small amount of water, condensed it in the form of a blade, and shot it off with incredible speed. Its effect reminded her of the videos she saw of industrial water cutters.
Sometimes, during great rains, the guards even approached her for help to clear out wooden detritus from the river with the spell, as she was much faster than anyone with reducing the flotsam to tinder and then removing it from the river with her telekinesis. And above all else, it was good money.
For her primary defensive spell, she simply practiced the Arcane Shield until she could keep it up all the time without thinking about it. It saved her life more than once when those insanely enormous spiders tried to ambush her while she was wandering around in Queensdale.
And in case that wasn't enough, she figured out how to coat her body in compressed rock, giving her an insanely powerful defense. When she first tried out the completed spell, Petra laughed so hard she almost suffocated. Apparently, Taylor, covered in her defensive spell, looked like a dumpy and grumpy snowman made of rock and gravel.
After that, Taylor worked tirelessly to make sure the spell only granted her a thin coating of rock, albeit with the same defensive attribute. She was very proud that after two years of hard works she managed to achieve that.
The rest of her spells were so so, but she felt ready to brave the world with them and probably amassed enough money (and knowledge; learning charr was a murder on her throat) that she would have no problems.
Working in the inn provided with her some money, but not a lot seeing that Andrew and Petra were family and she got lodging with the work, but after getting her wits about her after her surprising trans-dimensional relocation, she started helping in bookkeeping, and also 'inventing' new items for the inn's menu.
It didn't really surprise her that her most successful inventions were alcoholic drinks and enchanted chamberpots. The first was with the patrons (watching a grizzled old guard drinking what was practically a sex on the beach was pretty funny) and the second one was with Andrew and Petra.
Thankfully, using magic to enhance her body had some major positive side-effect, one of them of the improvement of her memory. Which resulted in her recalling a book about cocktails she leafed through when she was really bored back in Brockton Bay. And Andrew was nice enough to give her a cut from every sold cocktail she had developed. Sadly, she wasn't as lucky with foods as Kryta already had pizza, and to her immense surprise, even veggie burgers.
She planned to spend the gathered money on a new staff, as her trusty and gnarled staff, bedazzled with dozens of friendship charms and other festive baubles courtesy of Petra, was just too old and weak for her. The rest were earmarked for armor, an excellent sword, and travel supplies.
The moment she stepped through the gate and began walking on the familiar and well-trodden path towards the village of Shaemoor, she came to realize that she wasn't hearing the usual background noises accompanying her travels.
Breaking out of her daydreaming, she realized that the road was empty of travelers, and she was surrounded by running guards, Seraph, and in the distance, she could hear screams and demented laughter.
Stopping and gripping her staff, she looked over the village for a second to see where the sounds were coming from. Sadly, she could see flames and small explosions all along the southern part of the Shaemoor, as well as hear clashes of metal and the distinct tang of arrows firing.
Taylor didn't think, didn't consider anything, she just grabbed her magic, began circulating it to enhance herself, then took off full speed towards the burning village with anger on her face.
