The generous shadows of morning retreated before the rising sun, leaving Jasson sweating on his way home. He ambled from tree to tree, stingy shadows briefly sheltering before the sun beat again. A chilling wind blew across Jasson's damp skin, a blessed relief in his journey home.
Jasson wasn't 'disturbed' by Dockson's story. A mother and sister obsessed with true crime had jaded him. Still, all the details left him…shaken.
Bodies in a city he lived in, monsters feasting on their bones. Too many. Perhaps a serial killer using monsters to dispose of the bodies? Or something more…sinister.
I don't have any experience, Jasson thought, I don't have any instinct. There's no "my gut is always right" when I've never done more than digest a murder mystery or three. This isn't a story.
He didn't have time for this. He needed to make money for the app, perhaps by selling more cat videos. He needed to move up an adventurer rank. He needed to help the others build the house and prepare for the dance. When would Scott get here?
Jasson wiped sweat from his brow, grimacing at the sting of sweat in his eyes. He was starting to smell himself as well, which was always a bad sign. Especially since he didn't have any deodorant.
Along the path to Reflection Manor, a tremendous crash reverberated through the air. Stone on stone, like that of Petra fighting. Jasson froze, then raced ahead as he opened MADaptation.
What was happening?
Bursting into the clearing, Jasson aimed wildly. No glowing Cthulhu of watery death. Nothing obvious. But something felt different…
A collapsed arch, stone scattered and cracked across Not-ruins. But…there hadn't been stone there before. The walls had been shorter, mostly waist height. A lot of the weeds had been cleared away.
Then someone started swearing.
"Petra?"Jasson called, "Are you doing this?"
One louder swear, then a red-faced Petra poked her head out from behind the wall.
"What?!" Petra said, "Weren't you going to the guild?"
I completely forgot, Jasson thought. That Dockson cop distracted me. But, now that I think of it, I couldn't take a quest now if I tried.
"I couldn't," Jasson said, "I need at least three people to take a quest, remember?"
"That's right," Petra stepped out from behind a pillar, "Well, don't just stand around here. Clara and Harriet should be enough to get a quest."
"Petra," Jasson stepped forward, "Were you building the house up?"
Petra stepped in front of the tumbled arch, face reddening further as she glared.
"Of course," Petra said, "and I don't need onlookers. Go away."
Jasson looked at the collapsed pile of stones and said, "Have you ever built something like this before?"
"Of course not," Petra said, "This is manual labor. I am a high daughter of the court. But it can't be that hard. I know the mechanics in principle. Place, harmonize, seal."
Jasson raised his eyebrows. This was beyond simple architecture, and yet…
Jasson said, "So what are you having trouble with?"
"Nothing," Petra glared at Jasson, "I'm just getting the hang of it."
"All right," Jasson said, opening his phone, "are you sure it's not that you're having trouble holding it exactly in place while you fuse them?"
Jasson looked up one of the people he followed. An educational channel that he'd started watching during those two weeks of travel from Smill. He'd had a video on masonry building techniques…
"Just get out of here," Petra said, "I don't need any help."
Jasson nodded and turned to leave, but then turned back and said, "Where I come from, we can't just levitate materials."
Petra said, "That sounds pathetic."
Jasson snorted and said, "So we use scaffolding to hold stones up while building arches."
"That sounds stupid," Petra said, "What's scaffolding? Some kind of folding sca?"
Jasson said, "It refers to a temporary structure to hold the pieces of the arch up until you get the keystone in. Usually made with wood. Then we take the scaffolding out when the arch is completed."
"I guess you have to make do," Petra said, shaking her head, "It's so stupid, it might just work."
Jasson raised his eyebrow. Scaffolding was stupid? As opposed to having a half-dozen mages holding rocks in place?
"Work smarter, not harder," Jasson said, turning away, "I'm going. Try not to crush yourself."
"I thought that you couldn't take a quest," Petra said, "Do you have anything else to do?"
Blood pressure rising, Jasson said, "I, in fact, do. Good day."
Jasson stomped away, bringing up the cat videos he'd downloaded. If she didn't want him around, he had places to be. Things to do. Money to make.
****
It was cold that night. A strange wind blew in from the East, blowing away the unseasonable heat. Carrying with it the promise of being more than a storm. A promise to the end of summer days and nights sleeping below the stars. Or, more specifically, a tarp.
Jasson hunched against the wind, fingers tired from charging his phone and Clouddropping endless videos. He'd gone late, the kind of late that makes you feel guilty, and didn't even have the jangle of gold to comfort him.
Of course, that's because the gold was in his Locker. Still, it didn't fill his stomach. The shops and stalls had all turned their proverbial collar against the storm, and Jasson was left with closed doors a long way from home.
Jasson didn't have a collar to turn against the wind, so he made do by squinting and spitting out the dust when the storm blew too hard. The city lights still floated, still and untouched in the building fury.
Man, Jasson thought, I hope they're not upset with me. I lost track of the time.
Then it started to rain. A light misting that built Jasson's hopes. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad. Then lightning painted across the sky and thunder drummed.
Jasson leaned against the wind, shivering as this wet chill stabbed through his clothes. He needed to hurry home. They'd be- they'd be-
"Wait," Jasson stood still, "They'd be worried? Why? Because I can't text them? That's normal here. Why should I go all the way there so I can shiver in a storm? I can afford a hotel. They'll understand."
Jasson turned around and started making his way back towards the guild. There was a hotel around there…
Then it started to rain.
Jasson could hear it coming, an onslaught of water drumming on every surface. Then it hit like a mobile waterfall, filling every surface with a puddle of cold. Visibility was immediately reduced, on account of Jasson's eyes being filled with water every time he opened them.
Jasson ran, clutching his phone to his chest protectively. Yes, it was waterproof. His dip in the cave had proved that, but…well, he didn't want to risk it. Where was that hotel?
A burst of rain blinded Jasson, and when he opened his eyes again the city was dark. Impenetrably dark, save for a singular light not too far away.
A floating ball of light hovered in front of a low building with cheerily glowing windows. A sign hung, tied in every direction so it wouldn't blow in the wind. It showed a moon covered with clouds and a rat. He'd never seen this sign before.
Jasson looked around but didn't see the Adventurer's Guild's lights. Did they put them out before the storm hit? This place felt off.
Jasson didn't have time nor warmth to think. He burst through the doors, dripping shivers forming an erratic puddle. The foyer was warm, tiles slippery when wet. There was a desk against the opposite wall beside a long dimly lit hallway. A female attendant at the desk waved cheerily.
"Welcome to the Wet Rat Inn" The attendant said, "Are you here to stay the night? Party of one?"
"Yup," Jasson huddled forward, "How much for a room for the night? Just one night."
"Of course," The attendant said, "All our customers are here to wait out the storm. It's the service we provide. That will be one Crown, please."
"How much is a crown again?" Jasson opened his locker, "It's a few gold, right?"
"Five gold," the attendant said, "Plus tip. And may I have your name?"
Jasson counted out five gold and a sixth as a tip, then spelled out his name and said, "I'm dead tired. Just give me my key and I'm going to dry off."
"Of course," the attendant took a grey key off the hook and looked at it, "You are in room…ten? Wow. If you have any questions, feel free to come back and ask."
Jasson said, "Did you just pick the key at random? How many beds am I getting?"
"It would be best if you see it first," the attendant said, "and as to the keys… well. Here at the Wet Rat Inn, the room chooses the boarder, Mr. Boar."
Jasson raised an eyebrow. What-
The door opened behind Jasson, and five men stumbled in like drowned rats. They were covered in gunk, the foul smell wafting across the lobby like a vomiting sewer.
Jasson turned, gagging. He half expected the attendant to turn them away, but she just smiled and waved to them.
"Welcome to the Wet Rat Inn" The attendant said, "Room for the night? Party of five?"
Jasson raised his eyebrows and turned back to the hallway. His key glinted gold, with his room number traced in fine white ivory. Room ten, eh? That should be on the first floor, but …this key hadn't looked this nice hanging on the wall. Was ivory hunting a crime in this world?
Yet, despite the irregularities, Jasson didn't feel his hair stand on end. Maybe he needed to power off and back on again.
After an extensive bare wall, Jasson found room ten and whistled. An ornate door swinging inward, with golden designs and ivory numbers in lavish array. Imposter syndrome knocked at Jasson's door, telling him there must be a mistake. There was no way that something this nice was his for the night.
But Jasson was too tired to humor his humbler half. The key clicked satisfyingly, and the door swung in. Darkness.
Jasson fumbled for a light source. Usually, there was a small panel and-
Click!
Jasson gasped.
Home.
His old home. Modern, cluttered, the smell of food from the kitchen stabbing Jasson in the heart. It was like he'd just walked through his old front door straight into the living room. Mail piled beside the door, two couches and a recliner around the perpetually-on TV. Like he'd just come home from school.
"Mom?" Jasson stepped in, shutting the door behind him.
"Dad?" Jasson felt himself tearing up, "Everybody?"
Nobody.
Jasson looked at his key, pure gold and glinting in electric lights. It seemed rather smug for an inanimate object.
"Where am I?"