Miri woke to the soft chime of the System echoing behind her eyes.

  She groaned, rolling onto her side and shoving her face into the pillow. It smelled faintly of soap and sun and something floral Miss Jane insisted was “calming.” Miri disagreed. Nothing about waking up inside a magical world with monsters and gods felt calming.

  The chime sounded again.

  She cracked one eye open.

  [ Quest Complete: Find Safety ]

  You arrived somewhere that will not immediately kill you.

  You secured food, shelter, allies, and a plan.

  That counts.

  Miri snorted despite herself.

  “Wow,” she muttered. “The bar is on the floor.”

  Another window appeared.

  [ Quest Reward: Trait Acquired ]

  Quiet Resolve (Passive, Minor)

  Recover emotional balance slightly faster after fear, shock, or grief.

  She stared at it for a long moment.

  “That’s it?” she whined to the ceiling. “I almost died like… a lot.”

  The System, as usual, did not explain itself.

  Still, she felt steadier. Less likely to spiral if something went wrong.

  She sighed and sat up.

  “Fine. I’ll take it.”

  Miss Jane was already bustling around the tavern when Miri came downstairs, humming cheerfully and setting out plates like the world had never ended once, let alone several times.

  “Morning, love!” Jane said brightly. “You look like you slept.”

  “That’s the highest compliment anyone’s given me in weeks,” Miri said, collapsing into a chair.

  Jane slid a plate in front of her — eggs, bread, something fried and golden that smelled incredible.

  They talked while Miri ate. About nothing important. About the weather. About who’d won a shouting match at the docks. About a baker who’d burned his eyebrows off experimenting with a new oven rune.

  It felt normal, which was insane.

  “I’ll be taking some guild contracts,” Miri said eventually. “Probably be gone a few days. Maybe a week.”

  Jane frowned immediately. “Oh, I don’t like that.”

  Miri smiled around a bite of bread. “I figured.”

  “You come back alive,” Jane said sternly. “Or I’ll be cross.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Jane softened, patting her hand. “I’ll worry, of course. But I think you’ll do just fine.”

  Miri realized, with a small ache in her chest, that she already cared what this woman thought of her.

  The Mercantile was chaos in the best possible way.

  Stalls packed together like puzzle pieces, merchants shouting over one another, smells of metal, leather, spices, ink, and something vaguely magical she couldn’t identify. Armor hung beside dresses. Potions bubbled next to baskets of gemstones. Someone was definitely selling cursed rings out of a crate marked DISCOUNT.

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  Miri stopped dead in the middle of it all, turning in a slow circle.

  “Oh no,” she breathed. “I want everything.”

  “Don’t,” Tamsin said dryly, appearing at her shoulder. “You’ll die poor.”

  “Shamrock shake!” Miri shouted and grasped her chest. The woman moved like a freaking wraith. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  Tamsin grinned. Like with teeth and everything.

  Miri did a double take, finding a smiling Tamsin to be incredibly disturbing.

  Together, they shopped.

  Miri talked herself out of buying a pair of dice that would summon a variety of beasts and talked herself into buying a second meat skewer.

  Tamsin steered her away from flashy nonsense and toward practical gear:

  Enchanted leather armor, light and flexible, resistant to punctures and slicing blows.

  Healing potions, more than Miri thought she’d need (Tamsin insisted).

  An alarm rune, small and reusable, for camp perimeter security.

  A basic mana tonic, bitter and unpleasant but stabilizing if she overexerted.

  At one stall, a thin merchant with sharp eyes fixated immediately on the watch on Miri’s wrist.

  “That,” he said softly, “is a Time Keeper.”

  Miri covered it instinctively. “Not for sale.”

  The merchant smiled in a way that suggested he knew things. “If you change your mind… I will still be here.”

  She left quickly after that.

  When they finished, Tamsin adjusted her pack straps, gave a short nod. “Good luck. Try not to do anything stupid.”

  “No promises,” Miri said.

  Tamsin hesitated, then added, “You did very well on your assessment. I have faith in you.”

  That meant more than Miri expected.

  The armorer gave her privacy to change into her new outfit.

  She took off her shirt and spent a moment running her fingers across the faded lettering. Her dad had loved the Grateful Dead and she brought his old t-shirt with her on every trip. It felt like she was bringing a piece of him along with her.

  She slipped the t-shirt into her inventory with watery eyes and opened her purchase.

  The leather armor fit like it had been made for her.

  Not stiff or bulky. The leather was dark and well-oiled, layered and reinforced where it mattered, flexible everywhere else. It hugged her torso closely, high-collared to protect her throat, the seams shaped to move with her instead of against her.

  Wide straps crossed her shoulders and fastened with solid brass buckles that didn’t bite or slip. The cuirass extended down into overlapping panels at her hips and thighs, enough coverage to turn a glancing blade without restricting her stride. Her arms were bare, but braced with thick leather wraps at the wrists and forearms.

  Damn, I look good in this, she thought. Bare shoulders, high neck, the leather cupped her chest and nipped her waist.

  Miri had never thought much about how her body looked, just what it could do. But she was channeling Xena Warrior Princess right now and loving it.

  The leather pants and vest were enchanted to resist punctures and slashes. It would self-repair minor cuts and holes, but nothing severe.

  She needed more credits for higher quality armor.

  Miri rolled her shoulders, twisted at the waist, drew her sword and swung it experimentally. No pinching. No resistance.

  “Yeah,” she murmured to the mirror. “This is pretty badass.”

  Shortly after, Miri slowed as she reached the gate of Helmsworth.

  The road ahead was little more than a dirt track winding into trees and hills, already half-swallowed by distance. Somewhere along it waited contracts, monsters, and mistakes she hadn’t made yet. Somewhere along it, she would either grow or fail hard enough that the System would have to intervene.

  She shifted the weight of her pack on her shoulders.

  Not long ago, she’d woken up on a cave floor with no idea where she was, convinced she was hallucinating, terrified she’d lost the one person who had always been beside her. She’d been cold. Lost.

  Unarmed in every way that mattered.

  Now she had armor that fit. A sword that answered her touch. Food, tools, wards, and potions neatly sorted in a dimension-bending inventory bag that could hold a dollar store’s entire stock.

  She had magic.

  The thought still made her chest flutter.

  She wasn’t strong yet. Not really. There were things in this world that could tear her apart without even trying. She knew that now. Training had taught her humility just as much as confidence.

  But she also knew this: she could survive.

  Miri turned and looked back at the town.

  Smoke curled lazily from chimneys. Someone laughed near the docks. Somewhere behind those walls was a warm bed, a nosy innkeeper who worried about her, and a guild that had stamped her as an acceptable risk.

  It wasn’t home yet, but it was a beginning.

  She faced forward again, a grin tugging at her mouth despite the nerves buzzing under her skin.

  “Alright,” she said quietly, to the road, to the world, to herself. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  And then she stepped out of Helmsworth, excitement rising to meet her fear as the town slipped behind her.