Inside the stone chapel, the scent of baked bread and herbs filled the air. The interior was simple—wooden beams, clay cups on the table, and a fire crackling in the hearth. It was quiet, peaceful. A complete contrast to the road outside.
The old man introduced himself as Eron, and his wife as Mira. They both moved with the slow, steady confidence of people who had lived in the same place for a long time.
Dave, meanwhile, had already stuffed a whole roll into his mouth and was reaching for a bowl of something stewed and steaming.
"Sorry," Matt said quickly, giving a sheepish smile. "He's not usually this—uh—feral. We've just had a rough couple of days."
Mira chuckled and waved it off. "It's good to see someone enjoying food the right way. Don't worry."
Matt pulled out the now slightly crumpled guidebook and flipped to the slime section. He scratched out the part about "Century Death" next to slimes and jotted in a new note: Green = harmless (dust eaters). Red = dangerous.
Then he looked up. "So, like you guessed, we're… not really from this place. Not this world, actually. Any chance you could tell us more about what we're walking into? Especially if there's anything dangerous between here and the next kingdom?"
Eron leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well, there's plenty I could tell, but not all of it would help you. Still, a few things might make a difference."
He began counting on his fingers.
"One: don't drink water from standing pools unless it glows blue—means it's filtered by rootstone. Two: don't trust birds that speak your language. Not a joke. And three: avoid high paths at night—winged things nest in the cliffs and snatch travelers."
Dave paused mid-bite. "Wait, what kind of winged things?"
Mira just said softly, "The kind that don't drop what they take."
Matt blinked, scribbling frantically into the guidebook.
Eron continued, voice lower now. "And if you're heading north, through the stone-backed range… there's talk lately of a cursed knight. Seen by trappers, night travelers. Walks like a man, but doesn't cast a shadow."
Matt froze. "Cursed knight?"
"They're not common, but they're never alone," Eron said. "Where you find one, there's a lich nearby. Not just any necromancer—an old one, strong enough to bind a soul to armor and keep it walking."
Dave had stopped eating.
"Does the knight attack people?" Matt asked.
Eron shook his head. "No. Not yet. But it's been spotted near old ruins in the range. Folks think it's guarding something… or waiting."
Matt shut the guidebook gently. "Sounds like the sort of thing we'd really like to avoid."
Eron raised a brow. "Then I'd stay off the mountain passes and take the river trail instead. Slower, but safer. Fewer curses, fewer swords."
Dave nodded quickly. "Yeah, I like the sound of fewer swords."
They spent the night in the guest room the old couple had prepared. The beds were simple, but after days of walking and sleeping on dirt, they felt like heaven. A soft breeze came through the window, carrying the smell of grass and clean air. It was the first time either of them had slept peacefully since arriving in this world.
At dawn, Mira handed them a small cloth bundle with food, and Eron pointed them to the river trail. "Follow it west. It'll bend north in a few days. Safer than the mountain pass," he said.
"Thank you," Matt said. "For everything."
"Travel safe," Eron replied.
The trail was easy to follow. It ran next to a calm river with trees growing thick along both sides. Sunlight came through the leaves in quiet patches. It was peaceful.
After about an hour, Dave broke the silence. He was pulling the cart, and his boots made dull thuds against the dirt path.
"Hey," he said. "Do you miss anything from Earth?"
Matt looked up from the small guidebook he'd been studying. "Yeah. A car. I'd trade anything for a car right now."
Dave nodded. "You know what I miss? Soda. Cold, fizzy soda. I'd knock someone out for a can of root beer."
Matt laughed. "Yeah, that'd hit the spot."
They walked a little further before Dave stopped suddenly. Matt noticed his serious face and paused.
"You good?" Matt asked.
Dave looked around, lowered his voice slightly. "Listen, think about it. We could actually make money here. Big money."
Matt raised an eyebrow. "How?"
Dave pointed a thumb at his chest. "Back home, I'm just a guy who likes to cook. Here? I'm a food wizard. They eat stew. Only stew. Everywhere we go, it's just stew."
Matt nodded slowly.
"With what I know from Earth, I could open the first burger place. Or a pizza stand. Or anything! Once they taste it, they'll never go back to the same old stuff."
Matt smiled. "You think they'll like burgers?"
Dave grinned. "They won't just like them. They'll line up for them. This could be huge."
Matt gave him a look. "You're actually serious about this?"
Dave shrugged. "Why not? I've got to do something while we figure out how to get home. Might as well feed some people and make some gold while I'm at it."
Matt shook his head with a small laugh. "Alright, Chef Dave. Let's just make sure we don't get eaten by anything before your grand opening."
They kept walking, the sound of the river beside them and the cart wheels creaking along the dirt.
As the sun rose higher, the peaceful trail started to change. The trees grew denser, and the path narrowed. The sound of the river was still nearby, but now it came with the rustle of branches and the occasional snap of something stepping on twigs.
Matt stopped, squinting ahead. "You hear that?"
Dave paused, setting the cart down. "Yeah… footsteps?"
They both listened. It wasn't animals moving through the brush—whatever it was, it was too steady. Then they saw them. Three figures stepped out from behind the trees.
They weren't human.
Each one was short, no taller than Matt's shoulder, with grayish skin, long arms, and bulbous yellow eyes. They wore scraps of mismatched armor and carried crude weapons—one had a jagged spear, another a club with nails sticking out. The third had what looked like a crossbow cobbled together from bone and rope.
"Bandits?" Dave asked, backing up.
Matt didn't answer. The creatures hissed something in a language they didn't understand, spreading out to block the trail.
"They're surrounding us," Matt muttered. He looked around quickly. "Stay behind the cart."
Dave grabbed the cart's handle and pulled it back, placing it between them and the creatures. "What do we do? I don't have a weapon!"
Matt reached into his bag and pulled out the heaviest thing he had—an iron cooking pan they'd gotten from Silas. "Better than nothing."
The creature with the spear stepped forward, pointing at their packs and making a slashing motion across its neck.
Matt held up his hands. "Look, we don't want trouble."
The creature didn't care. It lunged.
Matt swung the pan. The sound was a sharp clang as it hit the creature's head. The thing dropped instantly.
"Holy crap," Dave said.
"Pan works," Matt muttered, surprised.
The other two creatures rushed in. Dave grabbed a stick from the cart and swung it wildly, managing to knock the club-wielding one off balance.
Matt stepped in and smacked the last one in the side with the pan. It squealed and backed off.
Eventually, the two remaining creatures fled into the woods, dragging the one Matt had knocked out with them.
Breathing heavily, Matt leaned against the cart. "You okay?"
Dave was wide-eyed, holding the stick like it was Excalibur. "That was insane. You just knocked one out with a frying pan."
Matt looked at the dent in the pan. "It's a good pan."
They both stood in silence for a moment.
Dave looked down the trail. "You think we're gonna keep running into things like this?"
Matt nodded. "Yeah. Probably."
Dave sighed and started pulling the cart again. "I'm raising the prices on those burgers."
Matt smiled. "Fair."
They continued on, both a little more alert now, their quiet journey no longer feeling so safe.
That evening, with the sun dipping low behind the treetops, Matt and Dave stopped beside a bend in the river where the ground was dry and flat. They were tired, bruised, and sore from the earlier encounter. It felt like they had walked twice the distance they meant to.
Matt dropped his pack and stretched. "This'll do."
Dave let the cart fall with a thud. "If I ever see another goblin or whatever those things were, I'm turning around."
They built a small fire, heated some of Mira's packed stew, and ate in silence. The forest had gone still around them—no birds, no wind, just the soft crackle of firewood and the splash of the river in the distance.
After they ate, they rolled out their bedrolls and lay down, too tired to talk much. But just as the stars began to peek through the trees, something strange broke the silence.
A voice.
It was soft at first, like wind brushing over glass. Then it grew clearer—gentle, melodic, and hauntingly beautiful. The kind of singing that made the air feel colder and the night feel heavier.
Matt sat up, listening.
Dave groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. "Nope. No. I don't care if it's Beyoncé herself—I'm not going into the creepy forest."
"You hear it, though?"
"I wish I didn't."
Matt stood up and looked toward the trees behind their camp. "I'm just gonna check. Be right back."
"Don't you ever watch movies? It's a trap luring you to a certain death!"
Matt rolled his eyes and walked quietly toward the sound, slipping past the trees. The singing continued, slow and steady, with no words he could understand—just long, rising notes that sent chills through his arms.
He followed the voice deeper, until he reached a small clearing. There, sitting on a low branch of a tree, was a girl.
She looked like something out of a dream—delicate features, pale skin, and faintly glowing hair that drifted like it was underwater. But the strangest part was that she had no wings. Her dress was made of flower petals and thin vines, and her bare feet swung gently above the forest floor.
She was singing with her eyes closed, unaware of Matt watching.
He stepped on a twig.
The sound snapped, and the girl stopped singing. Her eyes opened slowly, bright and strange, like glass catching the moonlight.
Matt froze. "Uh… hi."
The girl stared at him. Not startled. Not afraid. Just curious.
"You're not supposed to be here," she said softly.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," Matt said. "I heard your voice."
"You came anyway."
Matt didn't know what to say to that.
The girl studied him for a long moment, then looked up at the stars. "You're from the other place. The old place."
"You mean Earth?"
She nodded slightly. "Strange… I haven't seen one of you in a long time."
Matt took a cautious step forward. "Are you a fairy?"
"I was. Before my wings were taken."
"Taken by who?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she looked past him, toward the campfire in the distance. "Go back to your friend. He's afraid of the forest."
Matt hesitated. "Will I see you again?"
She tilted her head. "Maybe. If the forest lets you."
Then she slid off the branch and disappeared into the trees, silent as a shadow.
Matt stood there for a moment longer, the sound of her voice still echoing in his ears, then turned and walked back to camp.
Dave sat up when he returned. "Well? What was it?"
Matt stared into the fire. "A girl. Said she used to be a fairy."
Dave blinked. "Okay… not what I expected."
"She said I shouldn't be here."
"Well, I could've told you that," Dave muttered, pulling his blanket back over his head.
Matt lay down and stared at the stars. Sleep came slower that night.
The morning sun hadn't fully broken through the trees when Dave blinked his eyes open. He yawned, scratched his chin, and sat up with a grunt. His body ached from the hard ground, and his back protested every movement. But that discomfort vanished in a blink when he turned toward Matt.
He froze.
Then screamed.
"MATT! GET UP! GET UP RIGHT NOW!"
Matt bolted upright, instinctively reaching for his pack. "What? What?!"
Dave had already grabbed the frying pan, raising it above his head like a club. "SHE'S ON YOU! THE FAIRY! SHE'S ON YOU!"
Matt turned and looked down—sure enough, curled up like a cat on his chest was the wingless fairy girl from last night, peacefully asleep.
"Don't hit her!" Matt yelled, throwing both arms up. "She's not hurting me!"
The sudden shouting stirred her. Her eyes opened slowly, unfazed by the panic. She yawned, sat up, and blinked sleepily at the two of them.
Dave lowered the pan an inch. "Why is she here?"
Matt turned to her. "Okay, I have to ask... why are you here?"
She stretched her arms over her head and calmly said, "The forest told me to follow you."
Matt blinked. "The forest... told you?"
She nodded.
Dave gave her a suspicious look. "The trees talk now?"
She tilted her head. "They always have. You just don't listen."
Matt sighed and rubbed his face. "So... what does the forest want?"
She shrugged. "To see where you go."
Dave frowned. "That's not creepy at all."
Matt sat up fully and started folding his blanket. "Well, if she wants to tag along, I'm not going to stop her."
Dave crossed his arms. "I don't trust her."
The fairy turned to Dave and smiled sweetly. "You're very round and strong-looking. Like a river king from the old tales."
Dave blinked. "...What now?"
"You must be respected where you come from."
Matt bit his lip to keep from laughing.
Dave stood a little straighter. "Well... I mean... I do work out occasionally."
The fairy nodded, completely serious. "It shows."
Matt shook his head with a grin. "Unbelievable."
Dave cleared his throat and lowered the frying pan all the way. "Fine. She can stay. But the moment she starts chanting or glowing or something, I'm out."
The fairy smiled again and got to her feet, brushing leaves from her dress. "I won't be any trouble."
Matt hoisted his pack onto his shoulder. "Do you have a name?"
"I've had many," she said. "But you can call me Nia."
"Nia it is," Matt said, glancing at Dave.
Dave muttered under his breath as he picked up the cart's handles. "Of course the forest sends us a magical weirdo with compliments. Why not."
Together, the three of them set off down the trail, the river at their side and the mountains still far in the distance.