Leftover Apocalypse

"Exit. Help. Administrator. Menu. Settings." Nope.

I'd decided pretty quickly that there was no point in worrying about being crazy or in a coma or something - if my brain was that good at making up a realistic world then there wouldn't be anything to do about it. Only slightly more actionable was the idea that I had been abducted by aliens and put into a simulation, or that my brain had been frozen and then revived in the distant future into something like in the Matrix. Still, yelling out keywords had seemed like it was worth a shot.

I climbed up on the bed and pulled the light off the ceiling, and really looked at it. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to tell the difference between magic and technology - it was just a plain white sphere that was glowing. I'd read some fantasy books growing up, but I was far from an expert. My mom had a bunch of books about fairies that she didn't like me reading, though I snuck them into my room a few times. I read the third book in the Wheel of Time series, a kinda pervy book by Piers Anthony, something with Shannara in the name, and the first two Harry Potter books. I'd always had to make do with whatever books were around so I didn't get to finish any of the series stuff except for the Jake Ross books because I found? Stole? A boxed set from somewhere. I got really into those ones.

Even if I had read more fantasy, it didn't seem likely some random author's daydream would have too much in common with an actual real magical world. I tried to decide if I should be excited or terrified. There could be anything in this place. Monsters. Demons. Undead wizards leading armies of the damned. And that... sounded fine. "Fuck Earth," I said, and I meant it. There weren't many people I would miss, and worst case scenario I'd end up with a crappy job in a shop and some dingy little apartment which would be more than what I had on Earth anyway.

Okay, yeah, worst case scenario was actually that magic could slowly rot my soul away before I was eaten one limb at a time by some sort of ghost bat spider thing like I'd seen in that woman's room. But it seemed like a risk worth taking, especially since the people I'd met so far had healed me despite the fact that I didn't speak the language and had no insurance. Still, they probably wouldn't let me squat at this place forever and presumably they had some form of money so I would need to get that. Next step would be to learn the language which was the most daunting part. And then? Learn magic. Any kind of magic.

The following day was spent brainstorming, trying to think of an actual plan. I fantasized about using my advanced Earth knowledge to revolutionize the world and become ridiculously wealthy, but of course I didn't actually know anything. Even if the level of technology was low relative to Earth - and I had almost no idea of the specifics yet - there wasn't really anything I had to offer. It's not as if I knew how computers worked or any kind of engineering. The only real idea I had was that my cell phone could probably be sold to a collector - a mysterious object from another dimension had to be worth something, unless people from Earth were just dropping in all the time.

And so of course while I was eating lunch the next day I was interrupted by someone speaking English.

"Calliope Smith, don't stab me or run away. Okay?" I had the sudden urge to stab whoever it was and run away. The speaker was in the common area, looking into my room. He was an older dude with a huge handlebar mustache and a gold nose ring. I had the immediate impression that despite his hair being mostly gray he could kick my ass. He smiled when he saw the shocked look on my face. "You understand me, yes? Good. I have a letter for you, and then you will come with me. But first, Calliope Smith, you must tell me the name of your first hound, yes?"

"My only hound. Bullfrog." He hadn't really been my dog, I kinda stole him from my neighbor. I managed to keep him hidden in my room for almost a whole week.

He nodded, satisfied, and handed me a letter. It was was sealed with wax that glowed faintly and had been imprinted with a signet ring or something - the image was of a hammer surrounded by flames. As I broke the seal the glow vanished. The letter was, thankfully, also in English - although the handwriting was almost as bad as mine with the same awful block lettering.

Callie,

1. The guy handing you this letter should be Hugh. Cool mustache,

likes mushrooms. I requested him specifically and promise he's cool.

I'd love to explain who I am, but that will have to wait until I can

do it in person. For now just know I'm the person that's going to

make sure you get to have fun and use magic.

2. If anyone asks, Hugh included, you're fifteen years old and from

a small village called Arizona, deep in Calnon. It's surrounded by

chaotic magical storms so people there avoid using any magic but

something went wrong and you don't know what. This should somewhat

explain your total ignorance about magic for the time being.

3. I know right now only half of this at best makes sense. Sorry.

There are some bad people that may be looking for you, so please

just stick with Hugh for now and don't mention Earth. If you get

into trouble or get lost it's not worth it. I promise you'll have

a chance later to sneak off and explore. Watch out for monsters

and be careful! I will be waiting for you in the fortress on the

hill in Theremas. Once you're there and safe we can find someone to

explain things and honestly they'll be so grateful to you they'll

make a statue of you or at least set you up with a place to live.

This is going to be an easy gig that gets you magic and cash.

I can't say more here but it's all going to be great. Trust Hugh.

Be careful. This will hopefully be a simple journey. Have fun,

but not too much. Keep the bracelet on; removing it will mean that

your allergies kill you, also as a bonus it'll stop your period.

Hugh and the other people he's working with will find you quickly

I hope, I know you're probably losing your mind stuck in the clinic.

Hang in there. This is going to be awesome, I can't wait to see you.

-- Me

I read it twice, and then read the third paragraph again. I wasn't sure about the bracelet, but more importantly the wording of that last section was bothering me. Hugh cleared his throat after a moment to get my attention.

"Reach out your arm." He fiddled with a bracelet on his left arm, muttering to himself. "The latch... why make it so hard to see? Itxore pulite izen baher do, sopusetzan dot."

The switch from English to whatever the other language was came suddenly, and then he had the bracelet free. He reached out and snapped it onto my arm, where it seemed to constrict just slightly until it was snug against my skin which was... pretty fucking unsettling. It was a fairly plain bracelet, made out of some dull silver metal - it had the look and feel of pewter, but was as light as aluminum. It was wide but not absurdly so, and had a fine line etched along the edges that made little geometric patterns.

"It's a very nice piece, yes?" the man said, although... that wasn't quite right. Was that English or not?

"Is this... is this a magic bracelet?" I could feel the words forming all wrong. The wrong order, the wrong number of syllables, the wrong inflection. What I'd actually said was "Heo el de ... heo askomotorraku megikue el de?" That seemed to answer my question.

Hugh saw the look on my face and let out a single laugh almost like the bark of a dog, then shook his head. "Your first magic item?"

I wasn't sure how much to say, but it seemed ridiculous to pretend I knew much of anything and I was going to want at least some answers. "We avoided magic where I'm from. Is this kind of item common?"

"Translation bands, they are not too rare. But as you can hear, this one is very good at its job. The cheaper ones, they translate each word by itself which makes everything sound like nonsense. The masterwork ones - which this appears to be - they translate the meaning of the whole, yes? I suspect it will even convert idioms, and that is no small feat. In addition, this one is for travel - it prevents allergies and some illness. Good for going to new countries with unfamiliar water, yes?"

Hugh had a mischievous look to him, and I was sure he was curious about me. Sure enough, he started to try and get more information almost immediately. "The language is not one I'm familiar with, it felt strange to speak it. Possibly moreso because the vulgar... ah, I mean Imperial isn't my native language either. When a translation band is made it requires at least one person who is fluent in each of the languages, I assume that means one of the people who made this is also from... where did you say?"

"Uh, Arizona. It's a little village, in Calnon. I suppose it's possible someone else from there made the bracelet, I don't really know. The letter didn't say."

"A relative, maybe?"

The last line popped into my head. I can't wait to see you. My mom hadn't been excited to see me since I was five. Uncle Roy wouldn't be excited to see me either, though he at least had the decency to feel bad about it. That was the whole list. "No, not a relative. You don't know them?"

"No, I was given the letter and bracelet by Lord Protector Hammersmith but she was passing it along from another." that last name translated oddly, I noticed. There had to be some complex logic going on, deciding when it should translate compound words and proper nouns and... I decided I was extremely glad I'd ended up with the expensive version.

Hugh handed me a gigantic fur coat and some serious boots then told me to get dressed and meet him outside. I felt a panic welling up, and began thinking about whether or not I could get past Hugh and make a run for it. Instead I smiled and shooed him out, and then took a moment to decompress. It was the same problem as the backpack, back in the apartment office. The memory of someone showing up, and me being uprooted from somewhere and moved to somewhere else with nothing but whatever belongings I could quickly shove into a black plastic trash bag. My mom's house, that foster home, my mom's house, my uncle Roy's hotel, my mom's house, another foster home, another group home, my mom's house, some more group homes, Universal Servicing Systems, and then some more group homes until I aged out - some of which I can barely seem to remember, they made so little an impression on me.

Most of those times I didn't flip out, and likewise despite the striking similarity of my current situation to a case worker showing up and telling me out of nowhere to grab my shit and get in the car I knew I would be fine in a few minutes. I was used to it. The apartment complex thing had been a bit worse because I fucked up and made real plans, I thought I had something of my own that would be semi-permanent. A place where I would be able to own things without them getting stolen or left behind or whatever. And then suddenly with no warning I was being told that I had to take just what was in my backpack and get out.

But in this case I'd been thinking of this rustic little mountain retreat as temporary the whole time, and I already didn't have anything with me. I wasn't losing anything. The urge to run away faded quickly, helped along by the total impracticality of it, and I got dressed and ready to go. I was just rattled enough that I forgot to fake being a polite and empathetic person, and so I failed to take advantage of my newfound grasp on the language to thank the kind people that had saved my life multiple times and even probably had to wipe my ass after the water took me out. I did at least fold up the nightgown nicely and make the bed and - after a moment's hesitation - put the light sphere thing I had been about to steal back on the wall.

My years in Phoenix had thinned my blood or something and so I felt like I was going to get frostbite on the way to the wagon even with the boots and coat, but the inside was nice and warm somehow. It was an Oregon Trail style thing, though it was hitched to an animal that looked more like those mammoth-y critters from Star Wars. Banthas? Something like that, anyway. The canvas wasn't thick, and there were gaps that let little gusts of freezing air in, but whatever magical wonder was at play kept it so cozy that I could even pull the flap aside and watch out the back as we traveled away from the... whatever that place was.

"Hugh? Was that a hospital, or what?"

We'd been moving for maybe an hour, and I'd been too lost in thought to try and start up a conversation. Hugh had finally scrambled back into the wagon from his seat at the front just a few minutes prior, clearly trusting in the beast to keep going the right way. "They service three different villages near here, yes. These little mountain settlements are too small to have healers, so the Free States establish clinics nearby, somewhere the mana is strong. You're lucky to have appeared so close - something went terribly wrong with the spell that brought you here. Speaking of, you must be hungry and eating is safe now. Take this."

He handed me what looked like a small loaf of bread, but when I bit in there was a savory filling. Unfamiliar meat, some kind of gravy, and a stringy crunchy vegetable. I began to devour it, pausing just long enough to mumble a question around a bite.

"Are spells usually dangerous like that?"

He shook his head, still clearly amused by my lack of knowledge. "Do you have clocks in Arizona?"

"I - yeah. They're not magic though."

"Any famous clockmakers?" he asked, and I hesitated before answering.

"I know what you're doing. There's some famous clockmaker from Calnon or something, someone I couldn't possibly not know. Or like, clockmaker is a term for asshole there, or it's the name of the capitol. Right?"

Hugh laughed and winked at me. "You've caught me. However... you are still admitting you don't know the answer, yes?"

"I'll make you a deal. You answer my stupid questions about magic, and I'll tell you about where I came from."

He nodded, still smiling. "Magic is when you force the mana that flows through the world to manifest in some way, yes? In your case, by the nature of teleporting someone a great distance against their will, it would be done by way of language, giving it instructions - a spell. Ages ago, there were as many languages as there were towns but now there are... mostly two. Some spells are dangerous because the language is imprecise. Intent is part of it and is often enough, but it would be possible to make fire shoot forth from my hand but forget to ensure it knows not to burn my hand as it appears, yes?"

"So whatever spell teleported me wasn't cast right?"

Hugh's face scrunched up, and he made a gesture that I somehow knew meant "kinda".

"Possibly... Imperial magic is usually foolproof, but complicated or unique spells can still have errors. Wild magic - the older language that remains - is less structured and might just leave some of the protections out. But it is also possible that the spell was interfered with somehow. I think it must be either that, or some extreme variable the spell was not able to account for."

The letter had said people might be after me, but the person that wrote it must have already known I was injured. So if it was deliberate interference, wouldn't they know that too? It was possible someone used a spell meant for someone else and snagged me by mistake, and the magic wasn't prepared to deal with someone coming from another planet.

"Teleportation is risky if you are not using an established safe spell. You must move the air out of the way as you arrive - even air takes up space, yes? You must do complex math because - you may not know this, but the world is actually a spinning ball."

"Yeah, I don't know magic but I know a lot of that stuff. The basics, anyway."

"Good, good. I did not want to assume, yes? I have the benefit of an extensive education, mostly against my will as a child. Most know that the world is round, but know little beyond that. So. Do you know why this is such a problem?"

"Uh. Because if you do it wrong you might end up floating off in space instead?"

"Hah! Yes, certainly, though setting the point of arrival should be easy to do with intent. No, the danger is this: picture the wheel of a cart. If you are at the top, you may be traveling down and to the right. But from the bottom you would be going up and to the left. And the part at the middle of the wheel spins slower than the outside, no? So if you were to move from one spot to another in an instant, what would become of you?"

"I'd... fly off into the sky? Or down into the ground maybe."

"But you did not. The air was moved out of your way, and your motion was adjusted properly. From speaking with the healers I would say only one part of the spell failed, which is related to the thickness of the air. The air at the top of mountains is thinner, more spread out, yes? The air inside of you was thicker, and tried to spread out to match its environment much like mana does."

Which means when I felt like my head was going to explode and my eardrums were rupturing? That's exactly what was happening.

"Why didn't I die? I was bleeding everywhere, shouldn't the blood vessels in my brain have ruptured and killed me?"

Hugh looked impressed. "She knows not only science, but medicine as well! Excellent. This is why I think the spell was most likely cast correctly, and then failed in its execution. It protected the most vital parts first, but was unable to finish the adjustment. Normally if something is too difficult the spell will fail to cast at all, but if it struggles to complete and runs out of mana... " he shrugged.

"And can you do magic?"

Hugh hesitated, and then shrugged off his coat and unlaced the front of his shirt, pulling it way off to one side to reveal his armpit. There was a strange hexagonal metal plate there, just over an inch across. It was a strange pattern of gold and sliver, and it seemed to be set just slightly into his skin. "This is bound to me, and allows me to do specific kinds of magic. Without it I could cast individual spells, with practice, but it is much much harder, yes? It takes dedication, study, much work. And I... am a lazy man at heart."

He paused to smile, and I had to remind myself to smile back. "So... the encoded spells and the things like in your armpit -"

"My Dumine."

"- your Dumine, sure - those have all that stuff to keep you safe built in?"

"Correct! They are not quite spells, more a simulated natural ability. They are limited in scope, but flexible in application and require no use of language. But, yes, they are safe. Mostly. It cannot keep you from being stupid, yes? So to go back my previous example, you would not burn your hands but could always light your own pants on fire by being careless. And now... tell me where you are from, Calliope Smith."

Fiddling with the bracelet, I managed to pop the latch. "I'm from a whole other planet called Earth, and we have zero magic there, and I've got no fucking clue how I got here but it's clear that you guys aren't familiar with it at all and obviously same goes in the other direction or we for sure would have invaded by now."

Hugh said something back, but I hadn't gotten the bracelet latched back on yet. From the tone and his facial expression I was pretty sure it was something like "Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?"

I was just starting to feel nervous that I had misjudged and made him actually angry when he couldn't hold it anymore and barked out a laugh. Tension relieved, I leaned back and got comfortable. Something about the rocking of the wagon and the mix of cold and warm air and the furs and finally having real food in my stomach... I was falling asleep fast. Hugh chucked as he caught me nodding off, and pulled his coat back on so he could climb out to the driver's seat again. "You have won this fight, Calliope Smith. But we will have plenty of time to talk. It will be a long journey, and a very boring one. Nothing happens on these mountain paths."

So of course, I woke up to the wagon being attacked.