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12. We’ve Got Each Other

  The thin curtain over the window did little to block the morning sun, and the golden light sliced across Josh’s face, dragging him from sleep. He groaned softly, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling. His armour lay in a heap on the floor, and his boots were half-kicked off, clearly he hadn’t made much of an effort before collapsing the night before. Still in yesterday’s clothes, he stretched, joints cracking, and turned his head.

  Brett was still sound asleep in the next bed to him, gently snoring and twisted halfway in his blanket. Let him rest, Josh thought, smiling faintly.

  Moving as quietly as he could, Josh slid out of bed and tiptoed toward the door. The old wooden floor creaked softly beneath his weight, but Brett didn’t stir.

  The hallway outside was quiet and dim, morning light spilling through small windows along one wall. At the end of the corridor, Josh found what he was looking for, a modest wooden door marked with a carved crescent moon. Inside was a surprisingly familiar sight.

  A small washbasin, a working toilet, and thank the gods, toilet paper.

  “Okay. Not bad,” he muttered to himself, shutting the door behind him.

  He pulled out his phone from his pocket without thinking, muscle memory but the screen remained dark and lifeless. A flicker of disappointment passed through him. No scrolling while sitting, huh? He thought to himself.

  He didn’t linger long. Within minutes, he was making his way back down the stairs, refreshed and awake. The inn’s main room was quiet, save for the crackle of the hearth and the occasional clink of dishes from the kitchen. A small spread had been laid out on the bar, a few loaves of fresh bread, a pitcher of juice, and a wooden sign that simply read: Breakfast.

  Josh helped himself to a small loaf. It was soft and still warm to the touch. As he sat at one of the side tables, he tore off a chunk, inhaling the rich scent of fresh-baked bread. Juice sloshed into a clay mug beside him, and he took a slow sip.

  The quiet gave him space to think.

  This is crazy, he thought. But… I’m actually happy.

  It had only been a day, and yet everything had changed. He was in a new world. Magic existed. He’d fought goblins. There were actual stats. A guild. Quests. This was the dream.

  Back home, everything had felt stagnant. Every day had been a repeat of the last, jobs, bills, empty evenings, and a vague feeling of being stuck. He’d always loved old fantasy games, wished he'd been born in a world where swords and skill mattered more than bank balances and networking. And now, somehow, impossibly, here he was.

  Sure, it was dangerous. But it was also meaningful. Purposeful. Adventurous.

  And best of all, he wasn’t alone.

  Josh glanced toward the staircase and grinned to himself. Brett was here too. The guy who always had his back. The clever one. The calm one. With the two of them together, this might actually work out.

  He took another bite of bread, chewing slowly, letting the warmth of the inn and the quiet hum of morning settle into him like a blanket. Twenty peaceful minutes passed in silence, filled only with flickering firelight and the occasional crunch of crust.

  Then came the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

  Josh looked up just as Brett wandered into the room, hair a mess, eyes still bleary, but nose already sniffing toward the scent of food.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” Josh said with a grin, lifting his mug in greeting.

  —

  Brett stirred in bed, groggy but not truly asleep. The soft creak of floorboards had been tolerable. Josh's attempt at being quiet… less so.

  Thud.

  Brett winced as the doorframe took a direct hit from Josh’s shoulder, followed by a muttered curse and the sound of footsteps disappearing down the hall.

  So much for a silent escape.

  He lay still for a while, the blanket pulled up to his chin, cocooned in its fragile warmth. The silence that followed should have been peaceful, but it wasn’t. His eyes stared at the wooden ceiling, the weight of reality settling over him like a lead blanket.

  We really are in another world, he thought, heart beginning to race. It wasn’t a dream. Or a hallucination. It’s real.

  His thoughts drifted back to the forest - goblins shrieking through the trees, the rush of adrenaline, the coppery scent of blood. Josh getting stabbed. Brett firing off magic he hadn’t known he could use, desperate and terrified.

  They’d survived, but barely.

  And now this… this system, this voice from the void, wanted them to be heroes. To fight. To kill. To die, maybe. For a world that wasn’t theirs. For people they didn’t know. For gods they hadn’t even known about until yesterday.

  I don’t belong here.

  His fingers curled into fists beneath the blanket.

  I had a life. A future. A plan. A family. A career I worked my ass off for. He swallowed thickly, jaw tight. And now? I’m stuck. No way home. No answers. No control.

  Josh might be loving this,hell, he knew he loving it - Brett had seen it yesterday: the grin on his face during the fight, the gleam in his eyes, the way he had moved through the goblin ambush like it was second nature. Like he was finally where he was meant to be.

  But Brett wasn’t. He was adrift, overwhelmed, and scared.

  This world is trying to kill me, he thought, anxiety wrapping cold fingers around his chest. And I’m not ready.

  The spiral came fast and merciless, what he’d lost, what he’d miss, the people back home who’d wonder where he’d gone. His parents. His sister. The job he was supposed to start next week. All of it, gone in an instant. He pulled the blanket tighter, trying to breathe through it, trying to stop the shaking that had crept into his limbs.

  I don’t want to die here.

  And then like a crack of light through the storm - a memory surfaced.

  Josh.

  Standing in front of him in the forest, bloodied but unyielding, sword raised between Brett and the oncoming goblin.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Another flash: high school. A rainy afternoon. Three older kids with fists and fury, and Josh shoving himself between them and Brett without hesitation. He’d taken hits that day, more than a few but he’d gotten the better of them. Brett had never forgotten it.

  And after both moments, Josh had looked at him the same way. A grin that said, You’re safe. I’m here. We’re in this together.

  "You’ve always got my back," his voice echoed in Brett’s head, warm and steady, "so I’ll always have yours."

  Brett exhaled, the knot in his chest loosening.

  Maybe with Josh here… I’ll be okay.

  He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, then let his head fall back into the pillow. His mind still buzzed, but the edge of panic had dulled. In its place was something steadier. Not quite confidence but something approaching calm.

  There are good things here, he reminded himself. Magic is real. I can use it. I’ve seen things I’d never have seen back home. This world is strange, yeah but it’s beautiful, too. And maybe… maybe this is the start of something else. Something unexpected.

  He chuckled under his breath.

  A lifelong holiday with my idiot best friend… and a bit of fireball-slinging along the way. Not the worst outcome, right?

  After another ten minutes of quiet reflection, Brett sat up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. He sniffed, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and let out one last, shaky breath.

  He stood.

  The wooden floor was cool beneath his feet, grounding. He nodded to himself, slowly at first, then with conviction. Time to face the day. Pulling on his boots, Brett stepped out of the room, eyes scanning the hallway for the way down.

  Time to find Josh.

  —

  Josh looked up as Brett entered the room, his friend’s eyes red-rimmed, his steps slow, like he was dragging the weight of another world behind him.

  “What’s wrong?” Josh asked, already halfway to his feet.

  Brett raised a hand, waving him down. “Nothing. Just... had a bit of a moment.” He grabbed some bread, poured a drink, then sat across from him. “Had an anxiety spiral, I guess. This whole situation hit me like a freight train. We’re stuck in a strange world with monsters, magic, and some divine system expecting us to be heroes. I’m scared, Josh. And I’m angry. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

  Josh blinked. His mouth opened, but no words came out.

  Brett? Scared?

  “You’re always the brave one,” Josh finally said. “You’ve always had the plan. I just... followed.”

  Brett nearly choked on his bread, coughing once before giving Josh a look that said, Are you serious?

  “No, really,” Josh said, laughing awkwardly. “You left home, went to uni, carved out a path. I stayed behind. Never knew what I wanted. The only reason I haven’t cracked yet is because you’re here.”

  Brett looked at him for a long second, then finally chuckled. “We really do see ourselves differently, huh?”

  He rubbed at his eyes. “Alright, I’ll try to keep it together. But if I start panicking or freezing up, just... don’t leave me behind when you’re off being a big damn hero, alright?”

  Josh grinned and struck a ridiculous heroic pose. “Never. You’re stuck with me, dead weight or not.”

  “Dead weight?” Brett laughed. “Rude.”

  Josh dropped the act and met his friend’s eyes, tone softening. “You’re my best mate. We’ve got each other’s backs. That hasn’t changed, and it never will.”

  Brett wiped his eyes again. Josh looked away and sniffed once before slamming his hand down on the table.

  “Okay! Enough of the emotions. Eat up. We’ve probably got a long day of near-death experiences ahead.”

  Over the next ten minutes, Brett tore pieces of bread with slow fingers while Josh made a few more trips for snacks, trying to distract them both. They talked about magic, the people here, the strange beauty of it all. Josh could see Brett starting to calm, starting to cope. And with every passing minute, the confidence in his friend’s voice returned, slowly knitting itself back together.

  He really was shaken. Josh’s chest tightened with guilt. I didn’t even notice yesterday. He had so much more to lose back home. I didn’t think about that.

  I’ll protect him. I have to.

  Eventually, they returned to their room to gear up, only the essentials. Weapons. Armour. Nothing fancy.

  Josh looked down at his jeans, stained and tattered from yesterday’s fight. His t-shirt wasn’t doing much better. These won’t last long. Denim didn’t seem to exist here, and they stuck out like sore thumbs. Another thing we’ll need money for, he thought grimly.

  They left the inn without spotting Garrik or Barb. Josh figured they were probably still sleeping off the early breakfast rush or cleaning up after the late-night drunks. He was glad they’d found the Bull’s Head. It had warmth. Safety. Something like home.

  The streets were quiet, the morning just beginning to stir. The scent of fresh bread hung in the air, mingling with the smoke of kindling fires. They passed only a few others, adventurers, mostly, or the town watch, who gave polite nods but didn’t linger.

  Without the crowd, they reached the guild hall in minutes. The large double doors loomed once again, imposing and heavy. Josh pushed them open.

  Inside, it was quiet. Half the tables were empty. A few adventurers sat eating breakfast in murmured conversation, their weapons resting nearby like sleeping wolves. At the far end of the hall sat a lone attendant slouched at the front desk.

  Josh approached, Brett right behind him.

  The man didn’t move. His face was buried in his hands, and for a moment Josh thought he was asleep.

  “Hi,” Josh said, voice echoing awkwardly in the half-silent space. “We joined the guild yesterday. Ronald told us to come back today for his training?”

  The man slowly lifted his head. His eyes were bleary but the moment they focused on Josh and Brett, something sharp and manic bloomed across his face.

  “Oh,” he said. “You’re part of Ronald’s group.”

  Josh tensed.

  The man leaned back and let out a strange, breathy laugh. “Good luck, lads. You’ll need it.”

  Josh and Brett exchanged a look.

  “If you wait over there by the big table near the bar, others from your group will be joining you soon.” The man kept laughing to himself as he slumped forward again. “This is going to be fun to watch…”

  Josh stared at him for a beat, then turned away, unsettled. Josh looked at Brett before shrugging and making his way over to the large table the man had indicated. It was a wide, well-worn thing, the kind that looked like it had survived countless rowdy meals, spilled drinks, and the clatter of dice and elbows. Josh sat down on the bench, Brett following close behind, both of them silently scanning the room.

  No one else had arrived yet. A few guild regulars sat at distant tables, nursing bowls of something steaming or hunched over mugs that Josh guessed weren’t filled with breakfast tea. The hall still had that morning-after hush, the kind of quiet that felt like it was holding its breath before the day truly began. Outside, sunlight filtered through high windows, dust motes floating in the beams.

  Josh leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, eyes drifting across the weapons hung above the bar and the faded banners pinned along the rafters. It felt strange, sitting in a new world, waiting for a mysterious mentor they’d known for all of ten minutes, about to start “training” that no one seemed eager to explain.

  Brett fidgeted beside him, tapping a rhythm on the wooden surface with one hand. Josh glanced over, offering a half-smile.

  “You good?” he asked under his breath.

  “Not even a little,” Brett muttered, though his tone was lighter than earlier. “That guy was way too excited about watching us suffer.”

  Josh chuckled, then sighed and leaned back on the bench. “Yeah. That laugh didn’t help. He sounded like we were walking into an arena, not a training session.”

  The clerk’s laughter still echoed faintly in Josh’s ears, a gleeful, almost sadistic chuckle that hadn’t matched the sleepy drawl he'd started with. It hadn’t sounded cruel exactly, more like someone who’d seen what came next and found it amusing in a gallows-humour sort of way.

  Josh tapped the hilt of his sword at his side, more out of habit than nerves. We’ll be fine, he told himself again. We’ve fought goblins. How much worse could it really get?

  He immediately regretted thinking that.

  A low creak from a nearby door snapped both of their heads around, but it was just a server collecting dishes from another table. Josh turned back and let out a slow breath, trying to shake the sense of unease.

  They sat there in silence for a few minutes, watching as the guild hall slowly came to life around them. A few more adventurers trickled in, none of them heading toward their table. Josh eyed each one as they entered, wondering who their future teammates might be, if any of them were sizing him and Brett up in return.

  Eventually, Josh rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, “What the hell have we signed up for?”

  According to obscure author lore, every follow grants me +5 motivation and a 3% chance to stop rewriting the same sentence twelve times.

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