I opened one eye as I felt Justice pause over me, stifling some small reaction. She had her hand over her mouth and looked abashed. I croaked,  “What?” I hadn’t been sleeping, truely, but I’d wriggled into a comfortable position for a time while my body and mind refused to slow down.

She turned more red, and said, “Um, you just look like one of the- nevermind.”

I tilted my head to look at her more clearly, with both eyes. “Like what?”

She swallowed, “Uh, I don’t want to be mean.” When I gestured with one hand the dismissal of my concern, she continued, “You look like one of the dogs, back in Sanctum. It kind of flopped over wherever to sleep.” She mimed, tilting her head and closing one eye.”

I waited a moment, before rolling over onto my spine, four limbs lolling above me and yipped. She burst out laughing, and I said, “Warning. I bite if you pet my belly without warning, Justice,” and rolled over to land on my feet. 

She needed a little time to get over her laughing fit, but finally offered, “Sorry I woke you.”

“I wasn’t asleep. We need to figure out what to do today anyway. The coronation is tomorrow.” It was just after noon, nine hours after dawn. 

Justice nodded, sitting nearby, “Yeah.”

“Any other events we can change? Any other artifacts within reach?”

“Not any really accessible without some major theft.  Anything else I can think of will be here only after the city goes into martial law…”

“Well, we can always explore the CenSum tunnels if nothing else suits.” 

“Sounds good.”

We dressed for battle and found as we left there was a letter on the ground before my door. 

It was addressed to Scortan. I had Justice {Identify} it before I touched it. It was not magical. The contents were written in Elvish and it gave us a new destination. 

-----

The scummy bar was one of SoSum’s many scummy bars. The contrast of wealth - due to trade from the harbor - and the desire for simpler pleasures - by the many transients - made SoSum the place to be this century. Sure there were dangerous places, but you had to look for them, and the gangs were pretty conspicuous and had nearly explicit agreements with the City Guard. It was one of the few places I didn’t stick out, even in battle dress. They’d pulled up a stool, taller than the chair seats, but shorter than a bar stool, when we’d taken to a table. I’d expected to have to turn a chair sideways to accommodate my tail, but I wasn’t complaining. 

I ordered a Daeric Patcharan chilled, and encouraged Justice to get a lightly alcoholic cider. She had a better Brawn stat than I, but she was also still young. I knew my limitations. I didn’t even know if Sanctum had liquor. 

“What do you think this is about?” Justice asked me, not for the first time. She was persistent in her quest for information, that was certain.

“You know as much as I do, Justice.” She looked gratified at every use of her name.

“Sorry, I am just not used to things being off script. I feel like we should be more proactive somehow.” 

“We can’t stop a war between empires on our own. You yourself have admitted that there are no chosen saviors in this era.” 

She nodded, sipping the cider with only a little grimace. “Sure. In game five - the next game - you get to play a gods’ Chosen set four hundred years from now. In that one, you have to reclaim some of the world. It started a whole trend of post-apocalypse fantasy worlds, it had been so popular. I didn’t like the mechanics in that one, you could just make any spell you wanted after a point, so it was kind of boring.”

“Do Mechanics and Arcanics merge in the future then?” I tried to imagine that world, where water and fire were indistinguishable. 

She paused, confused, then realized something, “Oh, no. I meant mechanics in terms of the rules of the game, not the skill [Mechanics]. My world slang.”

“Hm… Can you make your own spells now, given that they are a fundamental part of this world, just in the future?”

“I… don’t think so. I think that I only have access to this game- er, world’s rules. Maybe something happens between games that fundamentally changes how the menu-, err, the Guidance screens and stats work. Or, like that’s a different timeline or something.”

“I… think I understand.” If I was so doubtful, I doubt anyone listening would understand. “Each… game’s universe is fundamentally built on the history of the past, but may exist wholly separately, like a piece of yarn split into different threads as time passes.”

“Maybe? Except The Halcyon Call: Death’s Door, the second one, was a prequel to the first.”

“You know, nevermind. I am not going to pretend I understand quasi-philosophy enough to theorize how this works.”

Justice snorted, “It’s so not my forte either.” 

“So, what other kind of games does your world have?”

I let Justice talk about a fiction too detailed to be imaginary, her world’s other worlds. It seemed to enliven her, as she seemed to enjoy drudging up memories of a place she hadn’t seen in eight years. 

An hour or so after our arrival, myself on my second glass, and having ordered some bar food that Justice couldn’t help but giggle at, calling the meat pastries “pigs in a blanket”, a third person joined our table suddenly. 

I’d seen the human, a woman with shoulder length hair and a proud scar across her forehead, slowly mingling among the tables, talking to some table, ignoring others. The tables she spoke to tended to have the bigger, more burly types but something about her saunter made me think she was trying to get to us. 

She sat down in the open chair at our small table and grinned. “Hello good folks, I heard you might be interested in a little show and tell.” 

Justice was startled but I responded, “Who’s showing, and who’s telling?” 

She winked at me, and said, “You get it. You two interested in earning a little money? You look dressed for it, and a friend of mine already sponsored you two. I think he even laid a small fortune on the line, betting before he’d seen your… competition.”

“Would this mutual friend have a name? You have us at a loss.” 

“He said the name ‘Scortan’ would be more familiar than anything I’d know him by…” She hedged coyly. 

“I see. Would we be able to meet with the organizers before committing outright?”

“Absolutely. Go down three streets and take the door under the blue painted stairs. Tell the doorman ‘Carroway’ sent you.”

I nodded, and she sauntered off to another table of toughs or potential ill-reputes. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Justice had watched with distrust and confusion. 

“We’ve been invited to an underground fighting ring in order to meet up with a clandestine ally.”

Justice rolled her eyes, “I’m not completely oblivious, I’ve seen movies. I gathered that much. I mean what was that whole thing about Scortan and Carroway.”

I vaguely remember Justice explaining that ‘movies’ were her world’s name for magically animated projected plays. MAPPing theaters were getting popular, but I didn’t think ‘Mappies’ was going to pick up as a term. 

“Remember when I ran off after your interview at the police station? I met up with Raim before the infiltrators found him. He gave me that name in the meeting. So I assume Raim is part of this elaborate setup.”

“Or we are being setup by the infiltrators.” Justice seemed to be thinking more critically after her close scare. 

I gave a small scuff, gesturing with my drink before finishing it, “Indeed. You feeling up to an underground cage fight, just in case?”

Hadassah

I do like the image of someone from our world trying to explain basic daily culture to someone in a parallel world with similar but non-matched culture. Something I always love to see in novels and stories. There isn't a whole lot in this book, but if I get to the second one, I plan to add a lot more, cause its my story.