Chapter 2

  William led me through the streets of Cogni, and I did my best to ignore the stares and whispers. It was clear I stood out. Not from height or anything like that, I was all of five foot four on a good day, and a lifetime of playing soccer had left me toned, but not overly muscular or unique enough to draw attention. But, my obvious lack of clothing, and probably the fact I didn’t have a gauntlet on one of my hands, was enough to get the townsfolk talking. That, and I was following their Mayor, who said nothing to them but offered smiles and nods.

  He led me silently and swiftly towards the center of town. The town itself seemed to be crafted in a circular nature, with predominately one story homes serving as housing, while the two story buildings had signs declaring them as store fronts of service centers. The largest buildings, which I could see in the distance, had rows and rows of smokestacks, and it was from them that the loudest sounds of grinding gears and metal clangs could be heard.

  Once we reached our destination, a two story building that had a sign above declaring it as the Mayor’s Manor, he opened the door and motioned for me to head inside. Within, the décor was post industrial, with a flair for copper tones, gears, and metal. Almost everything seemed to have been brushed in some way with a metallic sheen, though most things also bore the impossible to remove signs of oil stains.

  “My daughter’s room is upstairs,” he said, motioning towards the stairs, “first door on the right. She’s away now, but her clothes should fit you well enough. Once you’re dressed, we can chat.” He motioned towards a doorway, through which I noticed the signs of a kitchen, “I’ll whip up something to eat while you get ready.”

  Without another word, he made his way to the kitchen, and still with nothing to go on, I made my way upstairs. There was little doubt in my mind this wasn’t a trip. It wasn’t a dream. I was really here. How, I had no idea. But, I also knew panicking about it wouldn’t solve anything. So, instead of breaking down or hyperventilating or crashing out, I was determined to just go with the flow. After all, it wasn’t every day you got sucked into a video game. And if I was being honest, anything was better than living in the real world, all things considered.

  The door on the right at the top of the stairs was nondescript, made of the same dark wood as most of the rest of the house, with a coppery colored knob. I opened it, the door swinging inwards, and was greeted with a rather modest room. It had a bed in one corner, and a desk in the other. A bookshelf stood near one of the windows, filled with a variety of tomes, all thick, leatherbound, and parchment filled. Much more crude than the books of the real world.

  I scanned the room, and once I spotted a dresser, complete with mirror, I made my way over to it and began rummaging through the drawers. Normally, I wouldn’t be down to just raid some other girl’s wardrobe. But, in the current situation, and with the Mayor’s permission, I figured it was okay.

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  I pulled a white blouse from one of the drawers and slid it over my head, noting that sure enough, it had oil stains as well. The material was a soft cotton, the neckline a slight V, revealing just a hint of my tattoo. It was plain, and unappealing, but enough to fit in. Then I pulled on a pair of what were essentially dark green, baggy, cargo pants. I tied them at my ankle, and strapped a leather belt around my waist to keep them tight against my hips, as I fished around the rest of the dresser for socks. I ignored the underwear I found, simply because well, I wasn’t really planning to steal someone else’s underwear. There were lines, damnit, and I wasn’t in that dire of a situation, yet.

  Socks acquired, I noticed a grouping of shoes just under the bed. A pair of boots caught my attention, and while they were a size too large, I figured they would make do. I’d figured they wouldn’t fit me all that well anyways, since I noticed the blouse, and pants, were both larger than my normal size. If I had to guess, the Mayor’s daughter was at least a few inches taller than me. Which made sense, given the man himself had to be at least six foot, if not taller.

  Dressed more comfortably now, I made my way back to the kitchen. The heavy thuds of the leather boots on the wooden stairs declared my arrival, and I was greeted by the grinning Mayor. He held a tray in his hands, atop which sat two copper cups, from which a dark liquid steamed, and a plate full of breads, cheeses, and meats.

  “Come,” he motioned towards the table in the other room, and led me to it. “We can chat, as you eat.” He set the tray atop the table, and then motioned for me to take a seat. Once I did, he pulled his own chair out, and sat down. Then, he offered me a cup, which I hesitantly took.

  “I’m not sure what it’s like where you are from,” he said as I sniffed the liquid cautiously, “but here, we like to drink our coffee black.”

  I took a tentative sip, and nearly spat out the bitter drink. People who drank coffee black… were masochists. Still, I was parched, and while I was certain he had water if I really wanted it, my body craved caffeine. Not a day went by that I didn’t have at least a cup of coffee, if not more. And while this was definitely no Caramel Macchiato, I would still suffer through it to give my body the boost it needed.

  Before I took another sip though, I reached to the tray and grabbed a cracker, sliding a bit of cheese atop it. I was going to need moral support for my tastebuds, if I was going to survive this coffee.

  With the food in hand, I took another sip, as the Mayor watched me. He smiled, and took a sip of his own. I quickly took a bite of my little snack, a part of me wishing I hadn’t gotten my taste back just yet, given how bitter the coffee was. But, thankfully, the crackers were akin to saltines, and the cheese, a sharp cheddar as far as I could tell, helped relieve some of the bitter aftertaste of the coffee.

  “Alright, I guess I’ll let you explain, before I ask questions,” I said, after another sip. With each sip, I noticed, it tasted a little less bad. Okay, that was a lie, each was terrible, but unlike with when I’d been summoned, or whatever here, I could numb myself to bad tastes. I’d done it with liquor plenty of times, especially whiskey, when the guys insisted on drinking it straight.

  “A pragmatic approach,” he said, taking another sip of his own, “and one that hopefully means you truly are the one we’ve been searching for.”

  I cursed into my coffee even as I tipped it up to my mouth. Was this going to be some chosen one bullshit? Ugh.