Arthur led me through the forest with an easy confidence that I definitely did not share. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, sent a fresh wave of low-grade panic through me. Back home, the most dangerous thing in the woods behind my house was Mrs. Henderson's overly territorial chihuahua, and even that menace could be bribed with a dog biscuit. Here, I had a feeling the local fauna wasn't so easily appeased.
"So," I began, trying to break the slightly unnerving silence, "this… Eugenia Kingdom. What's it like?"
Arthur's brow furrowed slightly, as if the concept of someone not knowing about the Eugenia Kingdom was akin to not knowing that the sky was blue. "It's… the heart of Siennus. Ruled by the benevolent Eugene Royal family. Known for its fertile lands, skilled artisans, and… well, general civilization." He said the last word with a hint of uncertainty, as if realizing that my blank stare indicated a severe lack of context.
"Right," I said, nodding slowly, pretending to absorb this vital information. "Benevolent royal family, fertile lands… sounds nice." Internally, my brain was screaming, Siennus? What in the actual is Siennus? Is that the name of this planet? This dimension? This particularly leafy patch of ground I'm currently stumbling through?
"And you've truly never heard of it?" Arthur asked, his blue eyes scrutinizing my face.
I decided that a little bit of strategic cluelessness was my best bet. "Nope. Never. As I said, my… continent is very far away. We don't get much news." I mentally patted myself on the back for that masterful piece of vague misdirection.
He seemed to accept this, albeit with a lingering air of curiosity. "Well, welcome to Siennus then, Lauren. I'll do my best to guide you to the nearest town. From there, we can figure out how to… get you back to your continent." He said the last part with a hopeful tone that I definitely didn't share. The thought of returning to algebra homework and Brenda the Bruiser suddenly seemed less appealing than it should.
As we walked, the forest began to thin, the dense canopy giving way to patches of sunlight. Strange, brightly colored birds with melodious calls flitted through the branches, and I even spotted a creature that looked like a cross between a squirrel and a miniature dragon, scampering up a tree trunk.
"Are those… fire squirrels?" I blurted out, pointing.
Arthur chuckled, a warm, genuine sound that made my stomach do a weird little flip. "Those are shimmer-tails. They're harmless, mostly. They just like shiny things."
"Shiny things, huh?" I mused. "So, basically, the magpies of this world, but with added scales and the potential for spontaneous combustion?"
Arthur looked at me, a bemused smile playing on his lips. "Spontaneous combustion? No, they don't do that."
"Oh," I said, slightly disappointed. "That would have been more exciting."
We continued in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds the chirping of the shimmer-tails and the crunch of our footsteps on the forest floor. I couldn't help but steal glances at Arthur. He moved with a natural grace, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. He looked like he'd been born in this world, a stark contrast to my own awkward stumbling and constant fear of tripping over a rogue root.
Then, disaster struck. My left foot, apparently having a vendetta against my general coordination, found a particularly enthusiastic root. My arms windmilled in a desperate attempt to regain balance, "The Chronicles of the Obsidian Sword" flew out of my grasp, and I let out a yelp that probably scared all the shimmer-tails within a five-mile radius.
I braced for impact, expecting to face-plant into the mossy undergrowth yet again. But instead, a strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back upright. I found myself pressed against Arthur, his chest solid and surprisingly warm. My glasses, naturally, decided this was the perfect moment to slide down my nose.
"Careful there," Arthur said, his voice close to my ear.
My face flushed a shade of red that could rival a particularly ripe tomato. Being this close to someone who looked like he'd been sculpted by fantasy art gods was… distracting. Especially when that someone had just saved me from another bout of woodland floor intimacy.
I mumbled a mortified "Thanks," and quickly stepped away, fumbling for my glasses. "I'm… not exactly known for my grace."
Arthur chuckled again, a sound that was becoming alarmingly pleasant. "It seems you're still getting used to the terrain." He bent down and picked up my book, handing it back to me. "'The Chronicles of the Obsidian Sword'? An interesting choice."
"Oh, um, yeah. It's… a classic," I said, clutching it tightly. I wasn't about to admit that it was my comfort blanket in literary form.
"I haven't read it," Arthur admitted. "Is it a tale of great heroes and mighty magic?"
"Well, yes," I said, launching into a slightly too-enthusiastic synopsis of the book's plot, focusing on the overpowered protagonist and his incredible abilities. It was a stark contrast to my own current situation, and maybe, just maybe, if I talked about it enough, some of that overpowered-ness would osmosis its way into my being.
Arthur listened patiently, his blue eyes never leaving mine. When I finally trailed off, feeling slightly breathless from my rapid-fire explanation, he smiled. "It sounds… exciting. Perhaps one day I'll have the chance to read it."
The thought of Arthur, this paragon of fantasy heroism, reading about a fictional overpowered protagonist from my world felt strangely surreal. It was like Captain America suddenly developing a fascination with My Little Pony.
After what felt like an eternity (but was probably only an hour or so), we finally reached the edge of the forest. Before us lay a sight that made my jaw drop. It wasn't a sprawling metropolis or a technologically advanced cityscape. It was… quaint. Picturesquely quaint. Think medieval village straight out of a movie set, complete with thatched roofs, cobblestone streets, and a general air of "we churn our own butter and we're proud of it."
"This is Oakhaven," Arthur announced, gesturing towards the village with a sweep of his hand. "It's a small but welcoming town. We can find you some food and shelter here."
Food and shelter sounded like the most appealing things in the entire multiverse right now. My stomach was rumbling in protest against the lack of interdimensional snacks, and the prospect of not sleeping on damp moss was incredibly enticing.
As we walked into the village, the locals stopped what they were doing to stare at us. It wasn't a hostile stare, more of a curious one. I suddenly felt very out of place in my jeans and slightly stained graphic tee amidst a sea of tunics and leather boots.
An elderly woman with a kind face and a basket overflowing with what looked like oversized carrots approached us. "Arthur, dear! Who is this you've brought with you?"
"Good day, Elara," Arthur said with a polite smile. "This is Lauren. She's… a traveler who seems to have lost her way."
Elara's gaze turned to me, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
"A traveler, you say? From far away, perhaps? Your clothes are… quite unique."
"Uh, yeah," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up again. "Very… cutting edge. On my continent."
Elara chuckled, a warm, hearty sound. "Well, you're welcome in Oakhaven, child. Come, Arthur, let's get her something to eat. You look like you haven't had a proper meal in days." She directed this last part at me, and she wasn't wrong. The last thing I'd eaten was a lukewarm cafeteria pizza that now felt like a distant, almost mythical memory.
As Elara led us towards what looked like a cozy-looking inn, I glanced at Arthur. He caught my eye and gave me a reassuring smile. Maybe, just maybe, this accidental trip to another world wouldn't be a complete disaster. Sure, I was powerless, clueless, and dressed like I'd raided the clearance rack at a nerdy convention. But I had a ridiculously kind (and undeniably handsome) hero on my side, and the promise of actual food.
And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, this whole "being a useless side character in someone else's epic adventure" thing wouldn't be so bad after all. As long as there were no more judgmental pigs involved.