Nightlife in Ardania is quite different from twentieth-century nightlife. Fewer people were out and about, meaning fewer people were out and about. However, a few jobs were available that weren’t for people with soft stomachs.

In a sketchy part of town, no one noticed a soft light emitted from a basement window. No one noticed when six cloaked figures exited from an old warehouse. No one noticed when they passed a sign reading ‘Private Property.’

No one noticed as six figures approached a lone house surrounded by farmland. No one heard when the front door opened. No one noticed when a forest-green-cloaked figure placed an envelope sealed with the letter ‘C.’

Marlow was excited to begin learning magic, even though he could not do magic yet, but a foundation would lead to success! Plus, it's better than learning about geothermal energy. Opal chirped enthusiastically as Gwaner crawled up Marlow’s pants and shirt.

Marlow waited as Benson finished pulling on his boots. Finally, the pair set off toward a new part of Benson’s property. They saw spotted cows grazing on a hill. Finally, Benson set down his bag and cracked his back.

“MARLOW, DO YOU KNOW WHY I BROUGHT YOU OUT HERE TODAY?”

“To teach me a bit about magic? Right?” Marlow's heart raced as thoughts of conjuring lightning from his hands ran through his head.

“WELL… YES AND NO… I’VE GOT GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS. NOW I’M A MAN OF MY WORD, SO BEFORE ANYTHING, I’M GONNA TEACH YOU A SIMPLE TRICK. BUT WE’LL TALK AFTER.” Benson grumbled as Marlow turned his full attention onto the old farmer.

“THIS TRICK CAN ONLY BE USED BY THOSE WHO HAVE AN AFFINITY FOR BEAST-KEEPING MAGIC. I WANT YOU TO LOOK AT YOUR CHICKEN.” So Marlow did, making Opal a bit uncomfortable.

“NOW I WANT MENTALLY TO REACH OUT AND GIVE IT A TIGHT HUG.”

“A hug?”

“YES, A HUG. JUST TRUST ME ON THIS ONE.” Benson chided. Marlow did as he was told, envisioning himself hugging Opal. But nothing happened. He was about to give up when Benson told him to embrace his bird tighter. Marlow rolled his eyes and mentally squeezed Opal. As he did, his vision changed.

Skill Gained: Beast Sense (Novice I) To understand the world around you, you must start with small bite-sized pieces. Effect: After mentally embracing an animal you are close to, its Name, level, health, current demeanor, and known tricks will become available. More usage of this skill will allow you to glean more information.

Name Opal, Marlow’s first companion: level: 1, Health: 10/10, Current demeanor: Friendly, Known Tricks: 2.

“JUDGING BY THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE, LAD. YOU FINALLY SEE OPAL’S STATS?”

“Yeah!”

“GOOD. NOW I WANT YOU TO LEAVE.” Benson commanded all grandfatherly charm sucked away from that statement. Marlow turned his gaze back to Benson and saw the once enthusiastic farm. Now stood there stoically, staring him down.

“What?”

“DON’T ‘WHAT’ TO ME, LAD. YOU LIED TO ME! I TRUSTED YOU! I LET YOU SLEEP IN MY OWN HOUSE!”

“Benson, I don’t understand?”

“DON’T UNDERSTAND! YOU LIED TO ME ABOUT THIS!” Benson shoved his hand into his pocket, pulled out a wrinkled envelope, and waved it in front of a perplexed Marlow’s face.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU GOT UP TO YESTERDAY. BUT WHATEVER YOU DID? IT WAS ENOUGH TO BRING THE ENTIRE ATTENTION OF THE COLD THORN GANG DOWN ON MY FAMILY! THEY WERE IN MY HOUSE! MARLOW! THEY WERE IN MY HOUSE! THEY COULD HAVE KILLED MY FAMILY, AND THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD HAVE DONE!” Benson fumed, wadding up the envelope.

“Benson, I-”

“WHAT I DIDN’T KNOW! YESTERDAY I ASKED IF YOU HAD ANY RUNS-IN WITH ANY GANGS. AND WHAT DID YOU SAY? ‘NO.’ BUT THAT WAS A LIE, AND NOW MY FAMILY IS NOW IN CROSSFIRE! SO I’M KICKING YOU OUT!”

“What!”

“I DON’T WANT MY FAMILY TO COME TO HARM AGAIN! SO I’M TELLING YOU TO GET OUT!”

“But!”

“GET OUT!” Benson barked as he snatched up the bag he dropped and hurled it at Marlow. Which nearly knocked the wind out of him.

“I’M AIN’T A MONSTER, LAD. THIS SHOULD KEEP YOU ON YOUR FEET UNTIL NEXT WEEK. BUT, IF I EVER SEE YOUR UGLY MUG AGAIN, I’LL BEAT YOU OFF MY PROPERTY, MYSELF!” Benson threatened as Marlow took the bag and slung it around his shoulders. Then, with a slow turn, Marlow walked away, taking in the peaceful farm one last time.

It was a slow trek back to the city, which unfortunately gave Marlow time to think and reflect on his actions. He’d had a good thing going for him. But he ruined it. Maybe now was a good time to run to a guard's house and get on the waiting list? I mean, it’s not like he had anything to do.

Opal and Gwaner followed suit, oblivious to the drama unfolding. All they knew was that Master was heading back into the city, where so many new sounds, foods, and shiny things came from.

As they entered the city, Marlow had to prevent himself from gagging. The stench was offal, and even worst, the smell of sulfur. The odor only grew worst Marlow wandered the streets looking for a barracks. Then, Marlow realized he still needed to learn where anything was. He was in a new part of town. Just how big was this city?

Marlow slowed as he looked around for a street sign, so he could at least try and begin to get his barrings. As he spun about, he noticed a common theme among the faces along the street.

They were all dirty, pale, dry, thin, and salivating. But as Marlow looked longer, he finally saw what they were all looking at. They were all staring daggers at Opal, his pet chicken. Marlow bent over and scooped up Opal and Gwaner. He felt boxed in from all sides by hungry hobos. Then, after he stood up, he spotted a hobo approaching him.

“Oi there, what’s a privy like you doing out here in the slums?” The hobo inquired, his mouth watering a little more with each step he took.

“I’m looking for a guardhouse.”

“Oh well, I’d be happy to tell you where a guard house is, For a small fee. What do you say, Herbert?” The hobo bobbed his head looking past Marlow. Marlow whirled and saw two more hobos behind him.

“Right-o Philip.” Gargled Herbert, taller of the duo. Marlow could feel the weight of their gazes on Opal.

“You look like a chap who got some grub. Mind sharing it with us?” Philip chatted, which Marlow caused to turn back around to face a much closer hobo. He could feel the muck radiating from this man.

“I’d think he’d be happy to!” Herbert snorted as Marlow was suddenly yanked backward. The straps of his bag were ripped out from his shoulders, his arms were forced to bend his bag was stolen. Opal fluttered to the ground as Philip lightly stepped around Marlow to join in the impromptu looting.

“Well, well, well! What have we got there, boys!” Philip announced as he looked at the spilled contents, which caught the other street hobos' attention.

“That’s not the only treasure this scrub had!” Herbert snorted as he handed a pocket knife to Philip.

“FoOd.” Commented the third hobo. Who waved an apple above his head and got a jealous glare from the skeletal thin crowd. Some tried to advance but froze when Philip’s knife waved in their direction.

Opal clucked as Marlow rolled his shoulders. He knew that if he stayed, these thugs might try and milk him for more goods. As quietly as he could, he picked up Opal and Gwaner. He waited for the thugs to pull something else from his bag before he made his getaway.

Sneaking away was easy as the other hungry hobos approached the distracted thugs. He slipped between a pair of drooling vagabonds and was, for the moment, Scott-free. He turned the corner and saw another street of starving beggars.

Perhaps sleeping on these streets may not be the best idea. Especially having a free-roaming chicken at his side. But what if he didn’t have to worry about getting mugged again? What if he could hire bodyguards and pay them with food? He’d have protection and safety as he looked for this family! The guard’s station wasn’t going anywhere, but his life was threatened three times in this city. Minding his own business.

“Almost noon,” he muttered to no one in particular.

“I mean, it’s not like he’s going to notice. Right? He’s got a massive bunker. There’s no way he’s gonna notice a few fruits go missing.” Marlow assured himself as he planned to make another mistake.

Later that evening, as the sun passed the horizon, Marlow waited at the edge of Benson’s property. He slowly counted to five after the distant light in Benson’s house went out before stepping onto Benson’s farm.

Not wanting to waste another second, he ran past fields of barley, wheat, and other gains. His feet pounded against the soil as he bulldozed passed the crop. He only slowed when he came to a familiar hill.

Marlow got down on his knees and swept the ground, searching for the rope in the dark. Pulling on it, he unburied the entrance to the bunker. Marlow took the stairs two at a time. As he reached the bunker proper, he didn’t spend long figuring out which basket to take. He threw it over a shoulder and sprinted up the stairs.

Gently closing the bunker door, he reburied it. Dusting off his hands on his pants, he noticed an oddity. The Barn light was still on. Marlow thought about leaving it be. But Benson wasn’t in the wrong. He was a good man trying to protect his family. Did he really want Benson’s farm to go up in flames because of a lit lamp?

Marlow signed as he picked up the basket and lugged it over one shoulder. As he stealthily made his way to Benson’s barn. But as he crept closer, he heard vague noises from the barn. Worried that Lilith was beating on Benson. Marlow had flattened himself against Benson’s barn and peered through a crack in the wall. But it wasn’t who he expected.

“LOOK, I KNOW WE HAVEN’T BEEN ON THE BEST OF TERMS LATELY. BUT IF YOU WILL SEND A COUPLE OF OFF-DUTY GUARDS MY WAY. I’D BE HAPPY TO DONATE-”

“Yes, food our way. But how much food exactly?” A guard with a fancy breastplate acknowledges before pressing on.

“The kingdom’s food storage is running quite low. The Queen herself might order druids to be trained on mass. So, how much food are you willing to give before we recommend your farm as a new training ground? Forty miles is quite a bit of land to grow food on.”

“WHY- I- I- FINE, I CAN GIVE YOU FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS WORTH OF GOODS.”

“Better make it five hundred and seventy pounds per week, of course. If you want additional protection.” Benson grumbled before sticking out his callus hand. Marlow meekly smiled. All of this because he lied, all of this because of him.

Marlow turned to go and came face to Mr. Bones. Who looked expectantly. Marlow’s heart raced. Back up and stepped on Gwaner’s tail. A loud screech pierced the night.

Benson cried, causing Mr. Bones to bark. The flood of light grew from Marlow's crouched position, so he turned, seized Opal, and ran.

This prompted Mr. Bones to chase after him altering the guards and Benson where he was. Marlow ran trampling crops as he sprinted away from the barn, away from the only person who helped him in this new world.

Mr. Bones, like most tame dogs, thought that they were playing and began to run circles around Marlow. Unintentionally trying to make his trip. Balancing a basket while running was tough, but trying not to trip on a playful hound was even more so. He may have accidentally booted the joyous pup a few times as he escapes custody.

Marlow bulled forward, shouldering his way through corn now. Eventually, he popped out on the other side and saw the fence depicting where Benson’s farm began. He raced on, oblivious to how close the guards were and when Mr. Bones stopped chasing him. He hopped the fence and kept pace as he retracted the path back to Philip’s spot. He could hear the guards and metal armor behind him. He’d be there.

He felt something warp around his pants leg, and he swung his leg up and forward. To find a scared Gwaner squeezing his leg with a boot print on his tail. He pressed on, rounding the corner, and saw Philip and his crew relaxing—a clear area around indicating their small sign of dominance.

Marlow ran at them and threw the basket of oranges. The sight of the flying fruit in the dark startled the trio. But the other hungry hobos nearby leaped into action—their hunger overcame their fear of getting stabbed.

The guards rounded the corner, almost out of breath, their heavy armor dragging them down. They found the hobos in a frenzy as Philips's crew fought back against the sudden onslaught. With all the moving bodies, no one caught sight of the manhole cover sliding back into place.

Marlow gingerly backed away from the sewer grate, scared that the guards might jump down after him at any moment. His heart thundered through his head as the sounds of fighting echoed above.

The sounds of a sewer, no matter which world you are in. Are always; disgusting, slimy, revolting, and rarely used by normal people. Much like his surroundings, Marlow felt sickening as his sew he was in.

He’d stolen from Benson. From Benson! The first person that had shown him an ounce of kindness! The only person who gave him a chance! He’d lied to him about what had happened and what he was doing in that alley! He’d taken his charity and ruined it.

Marlow realized he couldn’t back up further as his back touched a slimy curved wall. He slid down and plopped into the muck. Messing up Opal’s white feathers. Shadows danced from the grate, catching a small part of the action.

He was a monster, didn’t deserve happiness, and brought danger everywhere he went. Everything he touched ended up wrong, he couldn’t even get rat food without getting hassled! RAT FOOD! He didn’t deserve Benson’s gift.

Marlow sat there as the negative thoughts rolled over him. Oblivious that Gwaner attempted to get his tiny body under his hand in a scratching motion. While Opal wandered off, finding an interesting banana peel.

Marlow held the snake changing staff aloft and looked eyes with the wooden tri-clops snake. He threw it and watched it sink beneath the surface of filth. He was the filth of the earth. He couldn’t give his sister the drink she requested without being called out.

Marlow disregarded the fact that Gwaner had dove after the magical stick. On the other hand, Opal had brought back the lightly used banana. She had dropped it in Marlow’s lap, who, upon seeing the discussing piece of garage. Let it slide off of his leg.

He couldn’t provide a future for these animals, he couldn’t even go to the guard’s barracks now. They’d arrest him for trespassing on Benson’s property! They knew his face! He froze when a semi-truck came at him; what the crap was he supposed to do when he was approached by another gang! Lay down and die… probably.

Opal huffed as her master rejected her gift. So she set out to find another gift master had to eat too. After all, how else was she going to eat? Gwaner swam through the gross fluid, diving down, down, down. Until Gwaner’s paw touched something wooden, Gwaner wrapped his tail around his master's walking stick and began to swim up.

“I’m worthless,” Marlow uttered, his voice echoing back to him and reflected and growing as sound waves reverberated through the mostly enclosed sewer. He felt his chest shutter as his eyes watered. Once it started, it was hard to stop. Everything was gone. Earth, college, the family farm, his friends, his family. He’d never see them again, ever.

Gwaner emerged from the depths and paddled towards his master. Who was… whimpering? Obviously, the master must be missing a mean man and a mean dog. Sure, he didn’t like them, but the master did. Perhaps Master needs new friends to fill the void. Gwaner deposited the stick and scampered off into the darkness.

Opal didn’t know much, but she did know that food made her feel better. Particularly if you had the rumbles. So maybe Master had the rumbles as well! And would feel better if he had some food. Then maybe Master would pick her up! She liked being held because that meant she didn’t need to walk. If you didn’t need to walk, you could sleep, and you would have the rumbles when you woke up. Which meant you could feel good again!

Marlow wept, lamenting his predicament, then about everyone, he would never see again. Then about his choices in this new world. Now he cried for all the things he would never see again.

A soft squeak caught him off guard. He sniffed, then rubbed his nose. He looked up and saw Gwaner and a dozen eyes staring back at him. He was going to be eaten alive by rats. Kind of fitting for the life he lived so far in this world. No funeral, no fan fair.

Gwaner approached, leading the other rats, closer to his master. Finally, Master would make friends with more reasonable thinkers. Why be mean when you could have a pack? Many minds working for survival, together! Maybe then Master wouldn’t be picked on by other humans.

Opal carried a loaf of bread in her beck, sure it had some green fuzz. But green was good. Because the grass was green. Seeds were tossed in the grass, and there were still good. So food being green must mean it’s extra good!

Marlow sat there as Gwaner led the rats ever closer. The murky water rippled with each little movement the rats made. A little cluck came from his left. Through bleary eyes, Marlow could make out Opal with a moldy loaf. He laughed as the pieces clicked into place.

Opal placed the expired bread on her Master’s lap and backed off. Gwaner waited as his Master’s demeanor changed. He was no longer leaking from his face or making those panic-sounding noises. He was showing his teeth.

Marlow took the load and tore into it. He took each ripped piece and tossed it to the animal audience. Who gobbled it up without hesitation. Soon all the untamed rats fought over the flying chunks of bread. While Opal and Gwaner patiently waited for their turn.

In an attempt to separate the pack of rats, Marlow took two pieces of bread and threw them in opposite directions. The rats scattered, splitting this way and that. But as one chunk of bread was gone, part of the rat pack zoomed over to the other rat pack and joined them in nibbling down the hunk of bread. It kind of looked like some sort of weird sport. Marlow tried again to separate the rat pack with the same results.

Gwaner wined absent, absent-mindedly, Marlow ripped and tossed a piece of bread. This caught all the rat pack’s attention, who attempted to rush Gwaner. But Gwaner didn’t budge. Instead, he’d let out a loud squeak, which stopped the rat pack. Gwaner screeched another squeak, and the rat pack scooted back. Marlow blind.

“Gwaner, did you?” Marlow paused, not sure how to phrase his question. Then dropped it, he was talking to a rat, and rats didn’t speak. But that differently happened.

Opal honked, and Marlow tossed her a piece of bread. The Rat pack took off towards Opal. Marlow panicked, worried that the wild rats might eat Opal as they went for the bread! Gwaner squealed, and the rat pack stopped, letting Opal huff down her portion of bread. A wheel turned in Marlow’s mind. Maybe he could make a game out of this.