Chapter One

I didn’t die there.

After the gun went off, I don’t remember hearing or seeing anything else. There was a flash of purple then it all went black, and that’s when I woke up in a very strange place. My initial thought was that I was still in the park only, somehow winter had stopped and the blistering heat of what felt like summer crept in. The sun had shone down at me with unforgiving aggression. I needed shade, and water. I looked down to locate my bag but I didn’t have it, which meant someone had taken my phone as well. That was when I realized there was no path beneath my feet and I couldn’t hear any traffic. The dirt was dry and a little dusty and the tall grass in the small clearing pricked at my legs through my clothes. I needed to get out of the sun.

Because of the heat, I wrapped my jacket around my waist. Usually, the convenience store doesn’t let us show our uniform when we’re on a break or going home but I hadn’t seen anyone for a distance, especially not through the thick autumn colored forest around me. The trees weren’t just tall, they were towering - but were also very beautiful and lush with fierce and fiery colors. They reminded me of pine trees, although I was sure pine trees didn’t grow like this. If I was there for any other reason, I would have stopped to read a book. 

I had continued walking through the forest, even with my heavy winter boots because I needed to somehow figure out where I was. I kept making up stories in my head explaining how I got there in order to keep myself from freaking out. I didn’t feel any pain, so I clearly didn’t get shot or hit in the head too hard, but perhaps I went into shock and didn't remember being taken away somewhere. One theory was that maybe I was taken for human trafficking and somehow escaped but became so exhausted that after I escaped, I fainted and lost my memory. That was one of my wild theories, another involved a circus and talking monkeys, but I won’t go into details. 

It was an hour before I found the dirt road in the middle of the forest. I was so excited because I could see tracks from bikes which meant people had to travel up and down the road, I just had to pick the right direction. Deciding to go left, I walked another twenty minutes before it occurred to me that I hadn’t looked around the bushes for any kind of food and I was starving, but I had to stop thinking about it quickly. Overhearing chatter in the nearby distance I assumed that I was near people and started running, hoping I wouldn't accidentally find my way into whomever obviously kidnapped me and left me in the middle of nowhere. Finally seeing a few people in the distance, out the front of a large gated area surrounded by stone walls I finally, in a way, felt safe. 

That was, until I saw her.

Now, you’re all caught up.

If you thought I was having a bad day then, that was nothing compared to what came next. Now that you’re caught up on how I got there, I’m going to tell you what happened next. I’m going to remind you, as someone I assume has read my previous stories online, this is not another one of my childish tales. 

There are parts of this story I considered leaving out. And I’ll be honest, there are parts that I have, but you have to understand that it’s been a while since this all began, and my memory isn’t the greatest. It could have been the way I was brought up. My school education was a little flexible and I would fake illnesses frequently to avoid my classes. I wish I could have learned to be brave earlier in life, perhaps I would have been okay with what happened next.

When I approach the closest person I stop almost immediately as they turn to me. Staring back at me, beyond my belief was a satyr. I could feel throbbing in my eyes from trying to comprehend the sight in front of me. The horns coming from her forehead curled only marginally upward and out to the sides, which I was unable to see earlier due to the long flowing dark hair. Her pants were cut open at the front showing hooves for feet. My heart races as she speaks, 

“Are you alright?” She asks. English. She spoke my language. This had to be some kind of fairground or amusement park with a renaissance theme that included mythological creatures. That makes me feel calmer. 

“Wow,” I say out loud, astonished by the level of detail in her costume, “, no, I’m fine. Just wondering what country am I in?” 

Raising an eyebrow she responds, “Skiora.” My geography wasn’t the best but I was fairly sure that wasn’t the name of a country or state. 

“Uh, what continent am I on? What main city am I close to?” Now she’s looking at me funny and appears concerned. “I’m lost, I have no idea where I am.” Looking me up and down she fully turns to me, 

“Where are you from?” 

“I’m from America,” Her face is puzzled. 

“I’m not sure I’ve heard of it, is that near here?” And I’m back to being thoroughly confused. 

“You haven’t heard of America? What about Europe? Am I in Europe? Asia?” Staring at me oddly she decides to turn away. Why didn’t she answer me? I look around and see an assortment of ‘creatures’ walking in through the main gates and decide to begin following them. This was like something out of one of my books. The stone walls look a bit like sandstone, a bright color that reminds me of visiting the beach once when I was younger. The gates themselves are spiked iron and guarded by two, what I assume are men, but dressed in scale mail...they were also covered in scales. It was a lot of costuming effort for someone to go to, not only attaching hundreds of green shiny scales to their body but to also attach a face mask that protruded from their helmets similar to a lizard? Absolutely crazy. However, I assume that as they were playing the roles of guards it meant that they worked at this place. 

“Excuse me,” I exclaim as I approach them, “, I’m a bit lost, can you tell me where I am?” 

“Aynor.” He scoffs. In response I nearly jump out of my skin, he had somehow connected his mask to move with his mouth and it made it so realistic. 

“Uh, thanks, is there someone inside that might be able to help point me in the right direction home? A travel agent maybe? American embassy?” 

“Mapmaker, near the marketplace.” He gestures with his head in the general direction to go. Nodding politely I pass him and enter the wide open gates. The place itself was wild and full of people in costumes. Everywhere I look there is a food stand of some kind selling fruits, clothing or gear. There was something about it I couldn’t put my finger on though. Where were the merchandise stands or the information kiosks? They were clearly going for authenticity. I decide to continue walking until I find one, but true to myself while looking around I collide headfirst into someone. 

“I’m so sor-” Stopping dead, not even sure if what I’m seeing is real, I look up. In front of me stands a tall, burly, long-haired man - with the bottom end of a black stallion. It was a centaur. Except for this time, I could no longer deny what I was seeing in front of me. The feet moved with impeccable lifelike motion, he was real. An actual, real centaur. 

“It’s not at all a problem.” He smiles at me. Words don’t come out. I want to respond, really, but it just isn’t happening. “Are you alright?” His eyebrows raise as if he was alarmed. Managing to face away I turn back to the crowd I had just walked by, flooded with unusual creatures that were absolutely not wearing costumes. I feel really lightheaded, and I need to get out of here, so I run towards an alleyway away from the crowded streets, tripping over the uneven path at least twice. I find my way to a secluded spot, shadowed by the taller buildings around me. Leaning against the stone and dusty building wall to catch my breath, I look out into the marketplace. These were meant to be creatures of legend and myth, not real flesh and blood. Clearly, I was not in America, because a place like this couldn’t possibly exist so openly without it being smeared all over the news. Another possible thought occurred to me, that perhaps I went back in time to where these creatures actually used to exist. I see children in the marketplace, but they are all non-human. Some had tails, others scales, or fur. The adults and elders around the place looked just as unusual, a majority didn’t look like creatures I had heard of in mythology before, but everyone I had spoken with so far responded to me in English. I’ve studied history, there is no way I’ve traveled back in time. What was happening here? Where was I? How do I get home? 

“Hey!” I’m startled by a voice behind me bellowing. Turning around I see a very stocky...man? He wasn’t taller than me but he seemed very angry. His short face and oddly shaped pointed ears reminded me of the dwarves I saw in fantasy novels. Head to toe he was covered in unusual armor, none of it perfectly fit, either being too big or too small and of odd colors as if it were from multiple outfits. As he walked closer I froze, warts that covered his face like an extra layer of skin became very ascertainable, his bulging eyes reminded me a bit of a chihuahua but I wouldn’t dare say that aloud now. “What are you doing just standing around?” He wallows. Although I had been distracted by him initially I can now see he is not alone, but three others stand behind him. What were they? I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. “If you want to just be standing around,” He continues, a burly accent now apparent, “, then you gotta be paying for it. What do you have?” 

“M-Me?” I ask, my voice finding its way back, “I don’t have anything. Not even a bag or pockets.” Which wasn’t entirely true, the jacket I’m wearing around my waist contains pockets but aside from a packet of gum I don’t store anything in them. 

He grunts and grabs onto my forearm with force, “No pay?” he snickers, “Then pay another way.” This could not be happening to me. With brute initiative,  he pulls me towards him, and I scream almost colliding with the floor but his grip stops me from doing so. The others around him laugh as they begin walking towards the opposite end of the alleyway, away from the sunlight. I had no idea where they were taking me but I had to figure out a way to get out of here and away from them. Unfortunately, I decide to take the route of screaming at him to let me go, but it was useless. With so much noise in the main street, I felt like I wasn’t going to be heard. 

I hear the faint wisp of something speeding by, a rock flies into the forehead of one of the men in front of me and he falls to the ground. Looking down at his hideous face, the stone in question embedded into his forehead, blood already beginning to pour. I scream. Not exactly because I was scared, I just feel overwhelmed and I needed to get it out of my system - despite the fact that I think the creature in front of me just died. Alarmed, the other brutes begin to look around at the rooftops, drawing weapons I hadn’t been able to tell were on them. Basic daggers at the ready, the one holding me throws me against the nearby wall and I can feel the scrape of my shoulder go straight through my clothes. That was going to bruise a lot. Falling to the ground I stay by the wall, worrying that whatever threw that stone might not be any more friendly towards me. There are a few more stones shot from a location I can’t identify. Another one of them goes down, yelling as he does, the stone wedged into the side of his neck. This time I don’t scream, I just stare, wondering if this was just a very realistic dream. Perhaps I am already dead and just didn’t know it and this was the afterlife. The creatures around me start shouting toward the sky, telling a shadow to come out and face them head-on. I try moving my legs but I can’t seem to put my weight on them. From the rooftop with cover from the glistening sun, a body drops down right on top of the one who had been hit in the shoulder and with a swift twist of the neck the creature no longer was crying out in pain. As if choreographed, the hooded figure launches from leaning over the dead one to pouncing onto the next closest, knocking him down hard. I watch the creature's head smash into the brick path beneath him. I sat there paralyzed, catching only the slightest glimpse of the hooded figure, but it was much easier to see when he drew his basket-hilted sword from its holster to block an incoming dagger from the original thing that had grabbed my arm. The hooded man spun to his right, forcing the short creature to fall forward and as he did, the man gave him a swift jab into the back of his neck, letting him fall into the wall and not get back up again, the blood splattering outward as the hooded figure pulls the blade out. Hearing his final gurgles as he died I realized I was now the only one alive, I just hoped-

“Are you okay?” He asks me. For the first moment, I feel overcome with relief. He wasn’t there to kill me. Looking up at him I can see that his clothing resembled other hunters I would write about in my stories at home. A typical Robin Hood appearance with light green and brown clothing, a tunic with a hooded jacket, and pants with many straps for holding a variety of items. Tucked in next to the sheath for his sword was a slingshot, a very basic one. Almost amused, I stand up, coming face to face with him. His dark eyes look at me curiously, his skin, though not sun-kissed, was full of life, and his smile when he tilted his head made me feel like I’ll actually be okay. Then I noticed one thing that was different. He didn’t have anything unusual about him. He looked human - like me! 

“I’m alright now.” I muster, even though my shoulder was really stinging. 

“Trolls aren’t exactly tolerated around here for that kind of behavior, but I’m sure someone will find them soon. We should go and get your shoulder checked out.” He smiles, offering his hand to me. Without a second thought, I take it. His hands are rough, but not indelicate. “The doctor is only a few streets away. Have you been here before?” By ‘here’ I assumed he meant to this town before, not to this world. 

“I’m actually very lost. I’m not even sure I’m alive honestly.” He raises an eyebrow, some of his dark hair shifting beneath his hood. 

“You look pretty alive to me. Come on, you must have hit your head pretty hard.” He guides me back towards the main street and into the crowd. 

Some streets away, just as he said, stood an old house with a sign at the front that stated ‘Practitioner’, and then I assume the same is written in other languages beneath it. We went inside and I was immediately taken aback. From floor to ceiling stood shelves filled with mixtures and concoctions, herbs and books that glowed and moved. It was the most miraculous thing I’ve ever seen. The shelves that held everything along the walls were made out of a dark wood with etchings that reminded me of runes from television shows about witches.

“Good to get out of the sun.” My companion comments, pulling back his hood. His dark hair falls forward in a mess, but one that suited him. That’s also when I noticed something else, a single hoop earring hanging from the top of his pointed ear, which means he wasn’t human after all. Attempting to hide my disappointment I respond,

“Yeah, I’ve been out all day. Probably longer.” I mutter, trying not to stare at his ears. I think I’m over the initial shock, now I’m just curious to touch them. 

“So what happened to you, Princess?” A bit flustered by the nickname I clear my throat,

“Well, I woke up in a field and I actually have no idea where I am or what country I’m in. That’s why I thought I had to be dreaming or dead.” Lifting an eyebrow at me he takes a moment to register what I just said. 

He chuckles, “You’re in Aynor, a city of Skiora.”

“You know,” I sigh, “, even though you’re trying to help, it doesn’t. I’ve never heard of Skiora. And no one here seems to have heard of where I’m from either. Not to mention I haven’t met a single human since I woke up on the forest floor.” 

“It’s a good thing you came here then.” A new voice enters the room, and it’s a lady who had come from behind the luxurious looking dark purple curtain which led to the rest of the house, at least that’s what I assume. Looking her up and down she wears a long robe, red with metallic gold spirals at the end of her sleeves, held close to her by a belt. The belt itself was strapped with at least a half dozen punches - who knows what each contains. Since her light hair was up in a bun, I could also see no bearing of pointed ears or scales. “I’m Patricia, the practitioner of the lower town, and a human if that makes you more comfortable.” She holds her hand out for me to shake it and I accept it graciously.

“Don’t get me wrong that’s totally not what I meant.” I stutter.

Smiling, she responds. “Believe me, it gets overwhelming for me too sometimes. There aren’t many humans in this town since it’s primarily dominated by Woodland Daemonaria, but most are still quite nice to us.”

“Daemonaria?” I feel my eyebrows press together. Concern flashes across both their faces when my new friend speaks, 

“Maybe you should also check her head while you’re checking her shoulder.” He says to Patricia. It was obvious they thought something was a little wrong with me. 

Exclaiming, I state, “I’m not crazy, I’m not from around here - just look at what I’m wearing!” 

“Yes,” Patricia begins, “, I was going to ask what kind of house crest you were wearing. It’s not very familiar to me.”

“It’s not a house crest, it’s a logo from a convenience store in New York, where I live. You can buy slushies and stale doughnuts there.” I’m starting to slightly panic again. 

“In New York?” I sigh, they clearly had no idea where I was referring to. 

“Sorry, maybe I did hit my head.” I shrug, wincing at the movement in my shoulder. 

“Please, come behind the curtain and let me take a look at that for you. Corvu, why don’t you stay here?” He nods and smiles. At least now I know the name of the person who rescued me. 

I follow Patricia behind the curtain where she politely asks me to remove my shirt so she can inspect my wound. I do so with no argument. Bringing over a washcloth and bandages she looks over it, then fixates for a moment on my chest. I look down and see the necklace Shelia gave me still hung around my neck, despite all the craziness, it was still there. She looks back up at the wound then at me. 

“It's not too bad, looks a lot worse than it is.” She smiles, putting something on the washcloth from a glowing green bottle. I feel a shiver run down my spine as I imagine what must be mixed in the concoction to make it glow like that. “This will kill any growing infections, but it’ll sting a little while I’m applying it, so why don’t you talk to me about something. Tell me about where you’re from.” She waited for me to begin talking so I decided to tell her more about me.

“I grew up in New York, but I was an orphan, so I grew up with a pretty big...family. I never got adopted, so when I was old enough I started working so that I could take care of myself. I moved into an apartment, it’s not fancy and it’s a little cramped but it’s the closest thing I’ll probably have to a home in a long time.” Humming her response and nodding up and down, she responds,

“How old are you?”

“I turned twenty-one just before last Christmas.” I smile, but she just tilts her head. “Oh, no Christmas here?” 

“Sorry love, what’s Christmas?”

“It’s a holiday celebrated a little differently around the world, people give out presents and families gather to spend time together, people decorate their houses with lights and have a big dinner, it’s very nice.” 

“Sounds lovely, a little bit like Thychut.” I just smiled, assuming it might just be called something different. I feel a small tug and notice that she was done bandaging me up. “There we are. You’re good to go.” She leaves me alone to put my shirt back on, then I go back out and see Corvu and Patricia chatting. They turn to me as I come out from behind the curtain. 

“I should thank you, but I’m really sorry I don’t have anything to pay you with.” But Patricia just smiles at me, 

“This is what I do, I don’t expect any more than peace for my services.”

I let out a small sigh of relief, “I have to ask a few questions, please?” They both nod with anticipation. “How is it that you speak English?” 

“What’s English?” Patricia questions, eyebrows engaging with the conversation,

“The language you’re using. The one we’re speaking to each other.”

“We’re speaking Skivak.” Everything must have different meanings around here. I can’t possibly be on Earth. My heartbeat echoes in my ears, steady but intense as if it were a thundering night. 

“Do you have a world map somewhere? I need to know how to get home.” Patricia nods and disappears once more behind the curtain. I find myself in preparation to cry but I’m trying to hold it together. Truly, who was I to assume what was happening. This felt too real and painful to just be a dream or hallucination. I hold my breath as Patricia comes back through the curtain and hands me a rolled-up piece of paper. It was clearly old, though not fragile. Going towards the windowsill for the most light I open the parchment and at a quick glance I nearly faint again. It’s Earth, well not exactly but pretty close. It’s where I live. “Where are we?” I ask quietly. Corvu leans over and points to where it should say ‘Las Vegas’, replaced with the word ‘Aynor’. It seemed impossible. Not even Las Vegas would create a feature theme park like this. 

“I also have this.” Patricia clears her throat, holding an open book in front of me - it looked almost identical to the necklace I was wearing, the only difference was the stone was oval and not tear-shaped. Two whole pages are written in a language I didn’t understand which contained an image of what hung heavy around me. “It’s a witch’s amulet. If you really aren’t from here and from another world or realm, it probably brought you here.” How does something like this happen? 

“Nope.” I exclaim, closing the map and handing it to Corvu. “I’m not crazy and I’m not going crazy. This is insane. This is not some kind of time traveling necklace.” I hold the piece up in my hand where I can see the inside of the amethyst glow deeply inside. 

“Not time travel, realm. You switched realms.” She smiles at me, trying to assure me. It’s not working. “You should be careful though. The amulet is an extremely rare totem and possesses a lot of great powers. Many Daemonaria want it for themselves because it grants the wearer magical abilities beyond imagination.” Corvu’s eyes open wider as he hears her words, but for some reason, I feel like that information would shock anyone. “But it can only be given by a witch and removed by the wearer. So please, keep it on you and hide it well.” Without hesitation, I put it inside my top. For some reason, the idea of someone taking this amulet from me scares me. 

“Can it bring me home?”

“I’m not sure dear. It brought you here, but you’ll need to speak to a wizard.”

“Wizards are a thing? I thought it was a witch’s amulet?”

Corvu provides his answer with distaste, “Witches have been hunted almost to extinction. There aren’t any left, at least not ones anyone is aware of.” My head spun. For maybe the hundredth time today I feel my heart race. I try to breathe but my throat feels like ice. A voice echoes in my ears. “Hey? Girl?” My vision comes back into focus. Corvu is standing in front of my face holding my shoulders. Clearly, whatever this place is, personal space is not a common courtesy. 

“My name is Tia.” Even though I spoke the words, they had sounded like they came from an entirely different person. 

Corvu raises a brow at me, “Tia, then.” He smiles, and I see the distinct length of his fangs for the first time, yet I’m not as frightened as I probably should be. “You know you stick out quite a lot around here. You should consider a change of clothes.” Patricia nods her head to this and disappears once more into the back room.

“I have no money,” I state, “, and if I’m being honest being human is clearly strange enough regardless of the clothes I wear.” As in on cue to make my point, my stomach let out an unusual sounding rumble. “And I haven’t eaten in what feels like days.” When Patricia returns she’s carrying some fabrics. Handing them to me she suggests I go and change.

As I go to stand behind the curtain, Corvu shouts to me, “Tell you what, if you tell me more about this world you’re supposedly from, dinner will be my treat.” It was a kind gesture, and not one I could refuse. I graciously accepted, hoping that I wouldn’t come to regret the decision.