The priest yelled out a protestation which was ignored. The paladin towered over me, the top of my head only coming midway up his chest. He reached down and grabbed my shoulder in the metallic grip of one of his gauntlets. I met his hard gaze, not entirely sure how safe I was. When he was sure he had my undivided attention, he struck the tuning fork he’d stolen hard against his own armored chest with his free hand, then held the humming device between us.

“How long did you travel with Ferrith Daze?” he demanded.

“Who—I mean—is that his name?” I asked, feeling foolish for letting my nervousness tie up my tongue.

“Yes, Ferrith Daze,” the man said, sounding impatient. “The man that led you here. Answer the question. Under Markethian law, refusal to answer my questions is a crime.”

I hadn’t actually known Ferrith’s full name, but it wasn’t like I could pretend I didn’t know who he was. “Umm, a few days?” I said with little confidence. I didn’t mean to make my answer into a question; it just came out that way. Something about having an angry giant in battle armor pin me under his grip made it hard to concentrate.

“Did you see a mask?” the paladin demanded almost as soon as the words were out of my mouth. “In his bag, with his other things. A wooden mask.”

“I… didn’t see one,” I said honestly. “Should I have?” It was such an oddly specific question.

“Brother Martin!” one of the other paladins said from behind him. “Leave the poor boy alone! This has nothing to do with him. Marketh says to greet the destitute with a loving embrace, not an interrogation. Can’t you see you’re scaring him?”

I appreciated being referred to as a boy about as much as I did being called destitute, but under the circumstances, I could see how both interpretations had merit. I’d always been below average height and from what I’d seen since arriving in Haemir, even most rissian women were taller than me. It turned out that even Ferrith was short by rissian standards.

“Of course this involves him,” Brother Martin insisted. “This involves everyone! They have agents everywhere. If I don’t…” The rest of his words faded as the tuning fork stopped humming.

The argument between Brother Martin and the other paladin went on a little longer, but eventually he gave up and handed the tuning fork back to the priest. He stormed off like a child having a tantrum.

“I apologize for Brother Marcus,” the priest said through the tuning fork after the paladin was gone. “He can be… passionate. We encourage passion among the paladins, but Brother Marcus is still young and his desire to serve Marketh sometimes gets the better of him.” The priest offered me a weak smile. The apology sounded too rehearsed to be the first one this priest had given on behalf of Brother Marcus.

“I’m okay,” I assured him. I rolled my shoulder to make sure he hadn’t done any damage with that grip of his. “No harm done.”

With the over-zealous paladin gone, the two of us could continue inside the church. The building was impressive in its scale, but not its design. The vaulted ceilings were probably four stories high and made of solid stone, but there were no paintings of carvings of any kind. After seeing the priest’s necklace and the diamond-studded device that let us communicate, I’d expected far more opulence. Despite that, there was a beauty in the simple architecture that was undeniable. The far end of the large chamber had a raised dais facing enough wooden benches to seat at least a thousand people. Possibly more, depending how crowded it got. The priest led me to the nearest pew and patted the seat next to him. I sat down.

“You may call me Father Koril. I am the head priest of this blessed church,” the priest began once he’d struck the tuning fork again. “Who are you, and where do you call home?”

“Hello, Father Koril,” I replied respectfully. “My name is Vince. I’m a human from Earth. I really don’t know how I ended up here. Well… I know, but I don’t really understand how it happened. I keep thinking this is all just a bad dream.”

Father Koril set a warm hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. It sounded like he really meant it. “Now would you mind telling me what a ‘human’ is and where I might find this ‘Earth’ you speak of?” He struck the tuning fork again, keeping it going so that we could keep talking.

“Earth is a totally different world. Ferrith told me your people call yourselves rissians and your world Earris.” I pointed a hand to my chest. “Well, humans are what my people call themselves where I come from.”

The priest’s eyebrows rose for just a moment when he took that in. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “I assumed Earth was a distant island, not a separate world! You say you’re a… human? And yet you look just like a rissian. This must be a sign from Marketh that you are meant to be here.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I asked. “I don’t look just like a rissian. You guys are all super tall, and your skin is a different color.”

Father Koril knitted his brow, head cocking slightly to one side. “Different color?” he asked. “Do you have a concept of color in your language? Sometimes the translation can cause problems when introducing new concepts.”

I shook my head. “No, I know what a color is. Do you? How can you not see what I’m talking about?” I held the back of my hand against the back of his own. “See?” I said. “Different colors.” I pointed to his hand, which up close I could tell had a totally different texture from human skin: smoother. “Gray.” I pointed to my hand. “Pink. Well… sort of… it’s sort of light, pinkish-orange, but you get the idea. You see? I’m not a rissian. I’m a human.”

“I do not see,” Father Koril said. “What is this word you use? Pink? There is no such color as pink.”

I pulled my hand away to cover my mouth, which had just gaped open. “Oh, my god!” I said, pieces clicking into place. “I think I know what’s going on here.” My memory flashed back to my travels with Ferrith and the way he’d continually spotted none of the wildlife I’d pointed out to him unless they were moving. I should have realized something was off back then. “You’re all colorblind!”

“Colorblind?” Father Koril said. He frowned. “I most certainly am not.”

“No, no. Uh… don’t worry about it,” I blurted. “You’re fine. I’m the one that’s weird, apparently. Humans have especially sensitive eyes. Even in my world, we can see more colors that almost any other species. I should have thought of this sooner. It’s so obvious now.” I almost laughed out loud. It was actually kind of neat, an entire planet of colorblind people. It was like I had a superpower… which reminded me of my actual superpower. “Oh, I should also mention there is no magic in my world. Not real magic, anyway. Maybe you could tell me more about how that works? After I arrived, I gained a power I’ve been using to help put myself to sleep at night.”

Father Koril smiled. “Ah, Marketh’s gift. You must have come from a world devoid of Marketh’s presence. Here on Earris, she awakens the power that slumbers in the souls of all her children. If you received her gift, then it must have been her plan for you to come to our world. Truly, this journey you are on is a blessing, my child.”

“Wait, you guys have an actual god?” I asked. “And she gives you all magic powers?”

“There is no god on Earth?”

I shook my head. “Tons! More than I can count. I’ve just seen nothing to convince me any particular one was real. I mean, maybe they are. They’re just… invisible or something. And they never do anything.” I had a complicated relationship with god. My parents weren’t exactly devout, but they’d definitely taken me to church all the time when I was little. They’d stopped taking me as soon as I asked to stop going when I was fourteen and never bothered me about it since. The last time I’d tried praying had been after my diagnosis and it had done no good.