Contrary to appearances, John Robbie could tell a decent lie.

Perhaps it was because no one expected it, or perhaps it was because John was so insignificant they didn’t much care one way or the other, but either way, John’s deceptions usually ended in success. When he had faked a stomach virus in seventh grade to avoid school, and thus his fifth-period presentation on Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights, his mother had believed him. She was a doctor too, so, you know, bonus points.

When a cop had pulled him over for speeding his senior year, and he said he was hurrying to the pharmacy for his grandmother’s heart medication, he had ridden away ticket-free. He still couldn’t believe that one had worked. His grandmother hadn’t even been alive at the time - though he knew she would have approved.

Still, despite his past successes in the art of obfuscation, something about his current circumstances told John not to try it. The tall, gray-haired woman standing over him appeared serene, but she radiated power in a way John could not fully explain. Being in her presence was like staring into the depths of an inert volcano. The lava may be placid, but the potential for face-melting destruction was palpable nevertheless.

The leather tome that had once been a three-ring binder entitled Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for Depression rested on the table between them. Like everything else John had possessed when he traveled through the portal into this world, it had been altered by the journey, and now it was a “refinement manual” entitled Way of the Balanced Mind. John had the definite sense possessing it had put him in a world of trouble. Unfortunately, he had no idea why.

“Explain,” Mikaela repeated. “Unless you have something to hide?”

“No, I…”

John’s mind faltered midway through the sentence. He had everything to hide. He had no idea what anyone in this world would think a person teleporting in from another reality. Would they treat him like an alien to study and dissect? A demon to exercise? A monster to destroy?

“How did you come by this?” Mikaela asked, nodding to the leather tome.

She gestured with a hand and a gust of wind blew the cover open and flipped through several pages, coming to rest on two that were blank. John’s hair rustled as the book was blown open, and he wondered if she had meant for that to happen. Perhaps she was flexing her magical muscles. Perhaps, she was reminding him of the difference in their power. As if he needed a reminder like that. John’s entire life, a voice at the back of his mind had told him constantly how pathetic he was.

You are a weak little nothing compared to her, it said.

Remembering that this strange, intimidating woman had quite recently saved his life, John decided to dole out the truth in manageable portions. Besides, he trusted Teodras, and Teodras trusted her. She couldn’t be all bad.

“My mother gave it to me,” he said. “She wanted me to use it to help myself.”

After a long moment of that eerie, assessing gaze, Mikaela nodded.

“You do not lie,” she said. “That is good.”

She offered a brief flicker at one corner of her mouth. Was that a smile? John found himself simultaneously thrilled by the gesture and starved for more, as though something inside him would happily beg for it like a dog for treats.

“You can tell if someone is lying?” he asked.

“I can.”

“Is that one of your abilities?”

“Who is your mother?”

“Well, she’s a healer, like you, except where I come from the healing works very differently.”

“And where do you come from?”

Marveling at how easily he had allowed himself to be maneuvered into what he least wanted to talk about, John hesitated, looking down at his hands.

“I don’t mean you any harm,” he said, “This village, I mean. Olsmir. I know you are the leader of these people, and I just want you to know I would never hurt any of them.”

“If I believed you meant harm to the people of this village,” she replied, “You would be dead. Your presence can still cause harm, John Robbie, even if you do not intend it. I spared you from death, but please understand that if I deem it necessary I will not hesitate to kill you.”

A quake ran up John’s spine. Her voice carried no bravado, only a grim certainty, like she had explained how the sound of thunder follows a lightning strike.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” John said, cringing at the whine in his own voice.

You are such a fucking baby.

“That is usually the way of it,” Mikaela replied. “Do not trouble yourself over what may come, but focus instead on what is before you. Now…”

She practically melted down into the lotus position, seating herself on the floor across the low table from John. Each of her hands disappeared into the opposite sleeve of the dark green robe.

“...tell me everything.”

Too overwhelmed to do anything else, John complied.

For the next hour, possibly two, John took Mikaela through the entirety of his bizarre, transdimensional journey, beginning with the crimson portal appearing inside his studio apartment in Dallas, Texas, and ending with his appearance at her doorstep in the village of Olsmir. He described his desperate flight to stay alive in Uldwyld forest, his acquisition of the armor and axe, his “fight” with two powerful monsters and finally his journey out of the forest into the hills.

He even described the video game Nordic Runes. He told her of the similarities and differences between the game world and this world, as well as his experiences with the strange, neon blue interface that showed him video game menus as though projected on an invisible screen in front of him.

Through it all she listened, unmoving and unblinking, as though she has gone into a kind of stasis. Occasionally, though, John could feel a change in her energy. It was a brief intensification, like the volume of a song has been turned up and quickly back down. It flared the first time when he revealed he had come from a different, high-technology reality, again when he described the video game Nordic Runes and a third time when he revealed his class, Weapon Sage. Though, John conveniently left out the part about his class name changing from Weapon Sage to Jackass Sage. There was no need to include every detail.

A long moment passed in silence, until a growing unease told John he should say something else. As he scrambled for more information to give, however, Mikaela stirred.

“You may stay in Olsmir one week,” she said. “If Teodras hasn’t asked you to stay at The Paw already, he will, and you may do so if you like. He has a predilection for… well, you’ll understand soon enough. You may have full access to the village, though you may not leave it, not even for a moment, not under any circumstances. You may tell no one of your… home world. If you must say something, you will say you have a difficult past and do not wish to discuss it. None here will force you. When the week has elapsed you will return to me, and we will discuss what comes next. Do you understand, John?”

Despite the cold detachment of her voice, Mikaela’s use of his name filled John with surprising warmth. Again, he found himself craving more of her positive regard, like a junkie when the high has diminished all too quickly gone.

“I understand,” he said. “But…”

Mikeala nodded a fraction as if granting him permission to go on.

“If you don’t mind me asking, uh, Maam, do you… do you know why I’m here? I don’t even understand how we’re communicating right now. Is this English we’re speaking? Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Mikaela considered him, her eyes seeming to dart almost imperceptibly back and forth between each of his. Finally, she nodded.

“I can tell you nothing of your arrival in this world,” she said. “You have been honest, but that does not mean you have been truthful. It only means you believe what you say. There is no harm in telling you this because you will learn soon enough, but you are not the first outsider to come here under strange circumstances. While it is true that everything in the cosmos is a coincidence, it is also true that nothing is. I have much to contemplate. For now…”

A hand emerged from its opposite sleeve and held up three fingers.

“You may ask me three questions about this world. No more, no less.”

“Why only three-” John stopped himself as it occurred to him Mikaela was exactly the type of person to count that as one his three.

A hundred thousand questions raced through his mind. There was so much he didn't know. This world was similar to the RPG video game Nordic Runes, but he doesn't know how similar. He didn't understand the political situation, who was at war and who was working together, the social structures, the religious organizations, the important economic forces or where in this world he should even be trying to go next - if she let him leave, of course. Ultimately, however, John decided to ask questions most relevant to his primary goal. Growing stronger.

“How do I gain more abilities?” he asked.

Mikaela smiled thinly, as though she expected the question.

“You must gather spirit resin into yourself,” she said. “Spirit resin is the energy of creation, or rather, it is what was left behind by the forces of creation after their work was complete. Every living soul is infused with it, underlying and intangible, the way sunlight fills this very room. How much determines the potency of a soul. To increase the potency of one’s soul, one must take in a great amount of spirit resin and then refine it, so it may be incorporated into the whole. This is accomplished, as you have already learned, by the use of a refinement manual, such as the one you carry. We all have the capacity within us to absorb outside spirit resin, and this is called a “Soul Reservoir.” To fill the soul reservoir you must gather spirit resin in one of three ways.”

She lowered one finger.

“You can take in the ambient spirit resin around you by developing the skills of your Path.”

She lowered a second finger.

“You can consume magically prepared and packaged spirit resin that was absorbed by another.”

She lowered a third finger.

“You can absorb the spirit resin of another soul by killing its mortal vessel. This is what you experienced upon slaying the creatures of the Uldwyld Ruins when their resin emerged from their bodies and flowed into you. In fact, you gained more spirit energy in those few minutes than many gather in a lifetime.”

The hairs raise across the back of John’s neck as he considers how close he came to death. It had taken him seven swings of his axe to take the last, infinitesimal sliver of life from that ninja lizard creature, which had seemed several times more powerful than the wolf that already badly outclasses him. If he hadn’t defeated those two, clearly high-level monsters, how long would it have taken him to reach 1 Star?

“What does it mean to move up a Star ranking?” John asked next.

“It means a drastic increase in the potency of the soul. Each star represents a portion of potential to be unlocked, its realization moving the soul that much closer to divinity. Ascending a Star ranking requires much more spirit resin than a simple ability awakening - which your video game called a “level” - and doing so dramatically increases one’s spiritual and physical power. It also opens the possibility of acquiring four new abilities. A Bistar, for example, can learn eight abilities, but to learn more they must ascend to Tristar. Each Star Rank you increase, the fewer you will find who have achieved it until you reach the incredibly rare Pentastars, who are practically gods walking among us.”

John deflated a bit. Aside from the nomenclature of Bistar, Tristar, Pentastar, et cetera, the answer lined up almost exactly with how Star rankings work in Nordic Runes. He should have asked something else. John was sure Mikaela was one of the “maxed-out Bistars” Teodras had mentioned earlier, meaning she had eight abilities of her own, four for each Star Rank. Even though he desperately wanted to ask her about her abilities, starting with that badass wind one, he didn’t want to waste another question - especially since he only has one left. This question, he could feel intuitively, would be the most important of them all.

“Why do so few people have access to refinement manuals?” he asked.

Something akin to amusement flashed in her eyes.

“Why, indeed? The short answer, of course, is power. Those who have it wish to keep it, and those who do not have it will fight desperately to become one of those who do. Without a refinement manual, the soul cannot grow stronger. Possessing a refinement manual, therefore, means holding the key that unlocks that thing most desired in all the cosmos. It is the power to bestow power. Few exist, and not all are accounted for. Naturally, organizations have developed around each. Some, like my own Covenant, only admit those who are deemed worthy and share its ideals. Others allow access to their manuals in exchange for loyalty and service, and still others for vast sums of money, catering to the wealthy. A few demand prices you would consider… unconscionable. In short, John, a refinement manual is a treasure. It is a treasure beyond all others.”

John gazed with awe at his own, personal refinement manual, Way of the Balanced Mind. This whole time he had been carrying around something so valuable, and he had no idea. Even Mikaela didn’t have one. She had to share one with other members of her “Covenant.” John felt the sudden urge to thank his mother, though he knew she was well beyond his reach now. He should thank her for a lot of things, actually.

She fucking hates you.

When John reached forward to take his refinement manual back, Mikaela shook her head.

“That stays with me.”

John opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat. He was in no position to negotiate anything.

A little bitch, just like always.

Mikaela rose and procured John’s satchel, which she handed to him as he stood awkwardly himself. His left leg had fallen asleep, and already the pins and needles were assaulting him. The idea of leaving his mother’s gift behind flooded him with frustration. The refinement manual was so close to him, right within his reach, but it may as well have been across the universe.

“We will discuss the matter further in a week’s time,” Mikaela said, seeming to guess his thoughts. “I will not steal it from you if that is your worry.”

John nodded, then followed Mikaela through her strange, arboreal home to the front door. As the door opened on its own, which John now realized was being propelled by the matriarch’s wind ability, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Remember,” she said, her eyes subsuming him into their blue, “You will tell no one of your true origin, and you will bring no harm to anyone in this village. If you break either of these rules…”

She ushered John out into the cold, leaving his imagination to finish the statement for her.