This morning, we burned someone's house down.
Er—what I mean is: we accidentally-on-purpose, with full strategic consideration, set fire to the property of an illegal necromancer who, surprise surprise, had a collection of talking skulls and a cursed teapot that could turn you into a wardrobe.
It all started because I just wanted to pee after completing our Banishing the Giant Mushrooms mission.
Yes.
Mushrooms.
But giant ones, outside the kingdom.
I swear. I only said, "Valmor, let's take a break. I'm not even sure if this is sweat or some sort of existential fluid leaking from my body." Then we found an old hut at the edge of the forest. Smelled like mushrooms, gloomy vibes, and a sign that—if read backwards—spelled "Death." The hallmarks of a healthy home, right?
Valmor did say, "This place feels wrong. There's dark energy here."
And me, with all my modern human brilliance, replied, "Every place has bad vibes, Valmor. Even public bathrooms have hellish auras."
So, we went in.
Ten minutes later, the teapot tried to murder me. The skull on the shelf called me a "panty thief," and a black cloak flew around ranting about the resurrection of the God of Rot.
Eventually, Valmor—with the wisdom and patience of a horse (because he is a horse)—declared, "We must burn it."
And me? I just lit the fire.
No questions.
No hesitation.
Because if life taught me one thing, it's this: if a flying cloak starts screaming threats.
Burn first, ask later.
So... that happened.
After a bit of running, a fight with a haunted mirror, and someone yelling "I SHALL RETURN IN 700 YEARS!" from an exploding shed, we sat by a hill. Breathing. Smelling grass, dirt, and the faint ash of someone's life—whether or not they'd finished paying it off.
I don't know if we just saved the world or made things worse.
But one thing's certain…
The orange sky slowly faded into a dusty purplish-gray, then into darkness.
I leaned back against my worn-out backpack—now doubling as an emergency pillow.
The night wind was cool. Refreshing.
Carried a faint trace of necromancer ashes we'd "permanently evacuated" earlier.
Beside me, Valmor sat in a reverent horse posture—silent, eyes gazing skyward.
Sometimes I forget he's not human.
Then he speaks, and I remember why I'm more comfortable with hooved creatures than I ever was with coworkers in my old world.
"Hm," I murmured, plucking a blade of grass. "Today… wasn't so bad."
Valmor glanced at me. "I have a question."
"If it's about the giant mushroom, I still don't regret anything."
"Not that." He turned to me. "You're… not from this world, are you?"
I let out a small laugh.
My voice sounded like a desk being dragged across a tile floor—tired, but still capable of sound.
"Yup. I'm not a native of Astralis Kingdom. I come from a place people call the Modern World."
Valmor lowered his head slightly. "You're from… the modern world?"
"Uh-huh. A place where everyone claims to be advanced, but still argues over taxes and internet speed. Where you ride to work crammed in a train full of armpit smells, then sit in silence for eight hours in front of a magical square called a monitor—which judges you back."
"Monitor?"
"Imagine a magic board that shows you everything… except happiness."
He nodded slowly. "You worked there?"
"I did. Every day. Wake up, shower (sometimes), drink instant coffee, and pretend to be productive. I got paid. But honestly, it felt more like they were bribing me to stay quiet and not revolt."
Valmor pondered for a moment. "That sounds like… a curse."
"Mid-tier one. No magical backlash, but it slowly erodes your soul."
We fell silent.
I looked up.
Stars began to pop out one by one—like cosmic acne across the night sky.
Valmor finally spoke. "Then… now that you're here, is your life better?"
I went.
Quiet.
"Funny thing is—yes, I've nearly died eight times. Nine if we count the mushroom thing earlier or maybe more. I've been on a cursed well mission, stayed at an inn owned by what I'm 90% sure was a serial killer, and almost got sacrificed in a ritual for a minor god. But… I'm alive. Truly alive. Not just breathing while waiting for payday."
Valmor stared at me. "That's… surprising."
"What's more surprising," I continued, "is how this life—with monsters and wild magic—makes more sense than being a corporate slave stuck in monthly evaluations and performance reviews. Or… maybe they're the same, just with less fireballs."
He laughed softly. "You know… you're weird."
"Thank you. I'm proud."
Then he looked at me again. "If someday… you want to tell me more about your world… I'd like to listen."
I smiled.
Just a little.
"Maybe. If I don't fall asleep first."
Valmor nodded.
I lay back on the grass, staring at the lazy sparkle of stars above.
I don't know how long I'll stay in this world.
But tonight, the cold wind didn't bite. The stars didn't feel distant. And Valmor's voice… made everything a little less lonely.
Tonight, I wasn't running.
I just… was.
And that was enough.