“I don’t wish to be contrary, Miss Elizabeth, but I am sure I would remember someone like you.” His bushy eyebrows, like two golden caterpillars, arched up to meet in the middle above his eyes.

  “I know. This must seem strange, but I can prove it.” I took a sip of tea and thought about how to explain this. “Wendel, do you know what a game is?”

  He opened and closed his mouth, confused about the apparent abrupt change of subject.

  “Just bear with me for a few.” I gestured with my hand at him to answer.

  “Yes, Miss. When I was a child, I played many games. My favourite was with the other children. We would take a barrel hoop and roll it along the ground. We would throw sticks at it trying to get them through.” He smiled at the memory, looking down into his mug. The fire cracked in the hearth, and sparks shot up the chimney. Wendel looked back up expectantly.

  “A game that is even bigger than that. But like your childhood game, one that many people can play. I am playing a game,” albeit unwillingly, I added in my head. But that would just confuse him.

  “And in this game I if I am killed, I start over again.”

  His mouth opened to object.

  “I know it sounds crazy. I do! But this is the fifth time I have sat here in your home drinking tea with you. Every time I sleep in one of your two guest rooms. After we have breakfast, you take me out to the shed and offer me one of three weapons. You tell me to ‘take but one’.” I smiled ruefully, thinking of having to choose the club. “You give me a basket to take to your mom. You tell me that you can’t visit her because the trip to Scott’s Hill is difficult because you have suffered an injury.”

  I looked over at him to see how he was taking it. His mouth was now closed, and he was watching me intentionally.

  “You told me you moved out here when you were eighteen. That a trader comes out here.” I wracked my brain to see if I could remember anything else he had said.

  “This is most extraordinary,” he said.

  I let him sit with this information. His face went through a number of expressions as he slowly worked through what I had said. I stroked Dekka’s wiry fur.

  “I cannot see why you would lie about this,” he finally said. “You came from the direction only Travellers can come from. And I have wondered why only Travellers can come from that way. Never from the village. And you have a ‘dog’,” he motioned to the aforementioned canine with his mug.

  He frowned. “But if you are playing a game, then what am I doing?”

  I licked my lips. I hadn’t prepared myself for this. How could I explain to him that he wasn’t real? Not in the way I was real.

  “You know how there are travellers and then there is everyone else?” He nodded. “All of us travellers are players in a game. The rest of you are people who live in it.”

  “But why? Why Miss Elizabeth?” He shook his head. “Why do we live in a game?”

  “I am sorry, Wendel. I don’t have the answer for that. Not really. But I have been trying to figure out what is going on. I have so many questions and not enough answers.”

  He nodded gravely at this. Wendel was familiar with not having all the answers.

  “One thing I do know, Wendel, is every time I have been through here, we have become friends.”

  His face lit up like the sun after a thunderstorm. “That pleases me, Miss Elizabeth. The idea that we have been friends before is good.”

  “It is good,” I said, filled with relief. He didn’t glitch or malfunction. He didn’t lose it or anything like my worst case thoughts. “I don’t like dying, but I look forward to seeing you every time.”

  “Do you know why I do not remember?”

  “It’s just part of the game. No one remembers me when I come back.” I shrugged. “I don’t know how it works.”

  “Is it a fun game?”

  I laughed, “FUCK no!”

  He looked puzzled, and when I was done laughing, I told him of some of my adventures and misadventures. I told him of friends and what I knew of the larger continent. We spoke long into the night.

  The next morning I was sitting at the table dressed in the tunic and trousers again when he asked if there was a way to remember me.

  “I don’t think so.” I said around a mouthful of oatmeal and honey.

  “What if I wrote it down and read it every morning?”

  “Things … reset when I die. The paper would disappear.”

  “That seems unfair.”

  “No argument there.”

  I checked my messages. Still nothing from anyone.

  “Would you like help in your garden today?”

  “If you are sure you do not need to go.”

  “You know I do not think I ‘need’ to do anything right now.” It was strange, but I was feeling in no hurry.

  Actually, what was strange was how driven I had felt in my previous iterations.

  Wendel stopped dead as we left his cottage. I almost ran into his back. Looking around him, I saw my war hammer and shield. “Oh, those are mine.”

  “If you have these, Miss Elizabeth, why do you need one of the weapons in my shed?”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I looked down at the massive hammer and shield. They did look imposing sitting there in his side yard. I watched him look at them and then back at me. He looked at my arms and then back at the hammer. “Miss Elizabeth, how do you…” he trailed off.

  “Those are called soul forged items. They spawn with me. But when I died, I was much bigger.”

  He looked a bit skeptical, but of all the things I had told him, this couldn’t be the most unbelievable.

  “You know how you are supposed to tell travellers about levels?”

  His face fell. I had ribbed him a bit the night before about not knowing about classes and levels. “It’s ok Wendel. I figured it out,” I reassured him. “Anyways it was like that. I was level nine with a good strength stat. I could swing that hammer easily.”

  We both looked down at it.

  “I can’t now. It is all I can do to drag it places with these noodles for arms.” I grinned and tried to pose like I had muscles.

  “How did you get it here?” I think my pose confused him.

  “The Ruath.”

  His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his shaggy hair. “Truly?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know why they helped me. I think they like my dog.” Dekka looked up at him and gave a little snort of confirmation.

  We started on the garden. At first, it looked the same as the last time until I got closer to the plants. “Wendel, you seem to have an infestation of snails.” They were everywhere, munching on the leaves. As I got closer, their little eye stalks swayed and pointed towards me.

  I moved side to side; all their little buggy antennae followed my motion. “An infestation of extremely creepy snails.”

  “Oh, no!” He rushed over and plucked one off a leaf. “They are eating everything.”

  Which was correct, but I was more concerned about the fact that I was being watched by hundreds of little eyes. A shiver ran up my spine, and my stomach clenched. “Um Wendel,” I said, backing away from the garden. “Would you be terribly upset if I didn’t help you in the garden?”

  He looked over, surprised by my retreat. “That would be no problem, Miss Elizabeth. Are you afraid of the snails?”

  “I think I am Wendel. At least these snails.”

  He looked back and forth a few times between me and the snails and me. He then looked down at the one he was still holding, pinched between his fingers. Its little eyestalks vibrated as it stretched them towards me.

  “I see what you mean.” he threw it out into the forest.

  “Let’s go to the shed.”

  “Why do you need a club when you have that?” He pointed at the hammer.

  I thought about explaining about the forced class but answered, “It’s too big right now.”

  He nodded. “Would you like me to get the basket? The one for you to take to my mother?”

  “Yes please. Oh, and do you have a wheelbarrow I could borrow?”

  It was awkward wheeling the barrow with my hammer and shield in it. Twice they fell out when I hit a divot in the road. And a third time when I had to battle two of the hell bunnies.

  The fight wasn’t particularly interesting in and of itself. I felt weak and uncoordinated, as was expected. I stared down at the bludgeoned rabbit and felt dizzy, and my stomach churned, threatening to bring up my breakfast.

  I had thought I had hated being a fighter, a barbarian. I had fought against the battle rage. But now I missed it. If I had to fight, I would rather be big and strong and not be phased by the sight of blood and brain matter.

  As I struggled with the wheelbarrow I decided I had liked being tall and strong. Which was strange because in the real world I had always aspired to be as petite as possible. The game had changed me. I had thought I didn’t like the changes, but now that I was back to Elizabeth 1.0, I wasn’t so sure.

  I had just crested the hill overlooking the little village beside the field of my first death when I spotted another snail. It was chilling on a thistle blossom, ignoring the spikes. Its eyestalks, like the others, were pointed at me and vibrating slightly. Dekka looked up, and her hackles raised.

  “Should I kill it?” I asked her.

  She growled uncertainly.

  “Yeah, me too. I get the vibe that killing them could make things worse. But I am not sure how.” I moved away, and it slowly turned its body to keep its eyes on me. “Would you like to kill it?”

  My dog stayed where she was, and her growl deepened.

  “OK, let’s get out of here.”

  I would have run down the hill, but that was more likely to slow me down. Every time the barrow tipped, I had to haul the hammer and shield back in and arrange them in such a way that didn’t squash the quest basket or unbalance the load. My arms were aching, but I didn’t stop for a break until we were outside the inn.

  There was no greenery around the outside of Richard the Small’s establishment. For once I was glad for lack of ambience. No snails. I left my barrow outside. The few townsfolk that were around weren’t likely to steal. They were giving me odd looks and were giving me a wide berth.

  Richard greeted me when I came in, again recognising that I was a traveller.

  “Well met Richard,” I wasn’t going to try to explain to him we had met before. “I need to go see Wendel’s mom. But I was wondering if I could leave a couple of items with you. I will also want a room, but I won’t be able to pay you till I get back.” I didn’t want to wheel that damn barrow one more centimetre if I didn’t have to.

  “Normally I require payment upfront for a room, Traveller, but we are very slow this season.” He gave me a wary look.

  “I promise it won’t be a problem.”

  “What is that?!” He jumped back and grabbed a chair leg that had been hidden under the bar.

  I spun ready to fight some monster. But it was only Dekka. Right, I had forgotten she was bowless. “Um, this is my dog. She’s a pet, and she won’t hurt you or anyone else in the village.” I promised him.

  Dekka sat and put on her sweetest terrier act.

  “Um. If you say so. But why does it only have two eyes? That’s creepy it’s like a person but a beast.”

  “That is just the way dogs are. I know it’s weird. But it is totally normal where I am from.”

  He nodded, eyes still narrowed as he lowered the table leg and put it back under the bar.

  “I’ll get my items.”

  Richard was shocked for the second time. The war hammer and shield were as hard for him to process as the dog. “Truly these are yours?” He was looking skeptically at my physique.

  I arched a brow at him. “Do you think I could steal these from anyone who could wield them?”

  That got a brief snort of laughter from him, and his shoulders finally relaxed. “You have a point there, Elizabeth, you said your name was?”

  “Yes, and this is Dekka,” I pointed to the dog who hadn’t moved.

  He stayed relaxed. “I would be happy to keep those things for you till you return.”

  I side eyed him. Of course he would. If I never came back, those items would be worth far more than a few day’s accommodation. I would think that hammer alone would be worth at least a year’s worth of room and board at this inn.

  Dekka and I trotted off to go see Mrs Bywait, Wendel’s mum. We also made nice with the townsfolk, praising their well. We picked up all the quests we had before.

  No messages had shown up from my friends. I was getting very worried. Part of me wanted to rush ahead and go find them again. The other part was oddly ashamed of this weak body. Would my friends still want me around if I weren’t a helpfully violent seven foot tall woman? I needed to speedrun this area and get levelled up as fast as I could and then go find them.

  After paying Richard for the room, I went to see if the farmer needed help with his pigs. But this time they were fine, no apple-belly. Dekka had a scrap of cloth we had gotten from Wendel’s mom tied around her neck in a poor semblance of a bow. It seemed to work, though. People stopped whispering and pointing.

  We visited the farm that had the mole issue last time. This iteration, they had voles, not moles.

  “What is the difference between a vole and a mole?” I asked Cecil, the farmer.

  He thought for a moment. “I haven’t seen moles in these parts in years, Traveller. They tend to be larger, more aggressive, but much slower. Why do you ask?”

  “Curiosity,” I waved my hand. “I can help you with your vole problem. If you can get a group of people and implements to hit them with, I can come back in the morning and we can save your crops.”

  His face split into a wide grin. “That would be great, ma’am. I can do that.”

  The next day, the voles died. They were indeed faster. Dekka made friends, and I levelled. Lord Ashburn’s men showed up and threatened the townsfolk if I didn’t come and present myself to him.

  As they rode off, Cecil turned to me. “I am sorry, Elizabeth. If there was anything we could do for you … You have saved our crops and possibly my farm and family.”

  “Any chance you have an unlocking charm?”