Wyn grins wide, Lothran’s sputtering fading behind her as she moves. Lothran is nothing like the wizards Wyn grew up hearing about. No long beard, no world-weary sighs, no staff with a story. Those stories have wizened old men like Gandalf and Dumbledore doing grand things. Lothran, on the other hand, is mostly an over-inflated ego with electric hair proportional to his confidence wrapped in judgmental frowns. Sadly, he’s the only true mage in Lethisburg, so Wyn figures she’ll have to put up with his quirks for now.

  Wyn’s stomach growls loudly. It’s been days since she’s eaten anything. Or at least, it’s been days in Eden, only a few hours back on Earth. Regardless of the strange time dilation, it doesn’t change the fact that her stomach is clawing at her insides, desperate for attention.

  “Psai, am I hungry here or back home?” Wyn asks.

  Psai pops out from under Wyn’s robes, and hovers at shoulder height, his soft blue hues pulsing in time with Wyn’s steps. The Old Mage’s Quarter slips past as the pair move, as unfamiliar stars crest above them; the sun tucking behind the horizon as night falls.

  “I am not certain of the nature of your question,” he says, too cheerful as always. “Please restate.”

  “I’m hungry. Is that in real life, or in Eden?”

  “It could be both. I do not monitor your bodily functions. If you are hungry, you should eat something.”

  Wyn sighs. He didn’t answer her question and did little else but emphasize her newest predicament: she has no money. With night falling, and her stomach growling like a rabid hound, it’d be ideal to find a place to rest, and a hot meal to eat. But being a brand new, completely broke mage makes buying simple things far more difficult. She could skip the night’s rest and go straight up the mountain towards the Boomfrogs, but that could cause bigger problems.

  Stealing to fill her stomach was nothing new, yet she despised having to rely on it again. On Earth, Wyn’s family is poor as can be. Mom works until her bones ache, struggling to support her family of four. Elzie’s medication alone costs the family more than they could dream of affording. Wyn, never quite fitting in, and having a penchant for mischief, struggles to hold down a job, which only exacerbates their struggle.

  “It seems you are upset. Please explain,” says Psai, genuine sadness in his tone.

  Wyn paints a smile across her face. “Oh, it’s nothing. Either I steal a meal, or I go hungry and fight on an empty stomach. Not ideal.”

  “Ah, I understand,” says Psai. “I suggest you consider the option of theft. Stealing food has often been the subject of complex moral discussion regarding the—”

  “Since when are you the expert on morals?” Wyn says, equally confused and annoyed at Psai for his random lecture. “And keep it down, would you? Any louder and you’ll let half of Lethisburg know I’m thinking about stealing food.”

  Psai dims significantly, his pulses dimmer and farther apart. “Understood. I will withhold moral frameworks as a device to assist in decision making. I encourage you to eat something, perhaps some bread. A baker might not notice a loaf of bread.”

  “That’s not a bad idea actually,” says Wyn. She gives her floating orb companion an apologetic smile. Between his sad tone, dimming brightness, and slow bouncing, he gives off the energy of a sad puppy who just had his favorite toy taken from him. But at her kind words, Psai brightens slightly, happy to hear her praise.

  Wyn watches the quiet, shadowed streets of the Old Mage Quarter. Hushed voices emanate from within a nearby building, the swaying doors of a tavern yawning in the gentle breeze. The scent of yeast, honey and warm bread caresses Wyn’s nose, drifting from somewhere just out of sight. Wyn’s stomach growls again, crying in desperation for a bite of sweet bread. Wyn swallows her hunger and focuses. She can’t afford to get caught.

  “Psai, lower your brightness, and lower your voice. I don’t want you to be spotted,” she says.

  “How exciting! I can lower my brightness by forty percent! Would you like me to do so?” says Psai, glowing brighter than ever, his tone ripe with palpable excitement.

  Wyn facepalms. “Yes, Psai. Please do that.”

  “Excellent!” says Psai. He dims slightly, and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Is this better? Forty percent is the best I can do. But forty percent is statistically significant! Also, would you like a motivational speech for your thievery to motivate you?”

  “What? I… no?” says Wyn, dumbfounded.

  “Understood. Good luck! Wait, does wishing you good luck count as a motivational speech?”

  “This isn’t helping.”

  Wyn moves on, doing her best to be stealthy. It is rather difficult to stay hidden when you have an overeager floating blue orb beside you, but Wyn tries anyway. If nothing else, she hopes that by watching Wyn be stealthy, Psai will learn from her and be better able to hide when it counts. If Psai is this bad at stealth now, she shudders to consider how he’ll be when they’re trying to sneak past a deadly foe.

  Following her nose, Wyn travels through the Old Mage’s Quarter and down a back alleyway. Succulent steam drifts out the back door of a bakery, propped open by a wooden crate. She gingerly shifts the crate, and slips through the door, moving it as little as possible to avoid unwanted creaking from the rusty hinges. The interior is awash with delicious scents: freshly baked bread, sugar, honey, fruits, and hardy grains. Loaves of bread rest on a rack, cooling so they’re ready for sale the next day. She finds a small loaf of hardy bread, doused in a sweetened honey glaze to hide the harsh taste, and rips off a piece. Wyn rips off another piece, and another. The bread is wildly delicious, filling Wyn’s heart and calming her rabid stomach.

  “Bread acquired. Your mood significantly improves with caloric intake, noting for future assistance,” Psai says, unbelievably pleased.

  “Don’t announce that to everyone,” Wyn says, licking the honey glaze from her thumb. “I don’t need people cheering me on as I steal. These people have hard enough lives without my stealing from them.”

  Psai frowns, “I had not considered how theft from a poor community would be particularly damaging. May we return the bread?”

  Wyn gestures to the loaf of bread, now missing over half of its former size. “It’s a little late for that.”

  She slips back into the alleyway, returning the door and its crate to their original position before slipping out into the night unseen. With the bread tucked into her inventory, she’s solved the problem of food, but now needs a place to rest for the night. She could of course go straight up the mountain under the cover of night, but that sounds a surefire way to get ambushed by bandits or worse.

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  Wyn leaves the Old Mage’s Quarter and returns to the cobbled streets of downtown Lethisburg. Unlike her previous visit, all the brightly colored market stalls are closed for the day, with only a handful of people drunkenly scurrying back to their homes. As she walks, she searches for any kind of inn she can rest for the night.

  After some searching, she finds one of the Logout Taverns Neil mentioned earlier in the day, though she couldn’t have missed it if she tried. A bright neon-orange sign hangs over a modern building reading, “Logout Tavern.” More similar to modern apartment buildings, it sticks out like a sore thumb against the medieval styling of Lethisburg.

  “So that’s a logout tavern?” Wyn asks Psai, chuckling.

  “An excellent question! That is correct. Here, you can join a queue to log out of Eden, and return to Earth.”

  “Return to Earth?” Wyn says, raising an eyebrow at Psai. “I’m still on Earth, just in Eden, on Earth.”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  Wyn waits for Psai to say more, and rolls her eyes when he just floats there innocently, as though no further context is needed to explain his ridiculous words. She considers logging out. No doubt Rohn, Elzie, and even Mom are curious about her experience so far in Eden. But that would be foolish, after all she has a quest to complete and can’t afford to lose days due to time dilation.

  Quest: Invasive Boomfrogs

  Requirements: None

  Travelers across the Arazid Mountains report an increase in Boomfrogs along Imperial roads. The creatures, while not dangerous, can grow into more dangerous varieties should they not be destroyed. Warning: if high-level variants have spawned, report back to Lethisburg immediately, and avoid direct conflict. The Arcane Consortium is not responsible for any harm incurred due to an excess of bravery.

  Objectives:

  Defeat Boomfrogs — 0/17

  Defeat Warrior Boomfrogs — 0/12

  Defeat Elder Boomfrog — 0/1

  Defeat Boomfrog Matriarch — 0/1

  Wyn frowns at the quest. It changed once again. Each time she opens the quest, the number of frogs changes. Or more accurately, the number of frogs in each category changes. It started with 20 regular Boomfrogs, which has now reduced to 17, with the Warrior Boomfrogs increasing by 2. And now there’s even a new category: Elder Boomfrog. The description warned about the Boomfrogs evolving and becoming more dangerous if left alone for too long. That decides it; Wyn can’t log out. If she does, the Boomfrogs will all evolve into strong variants that Wyn can’t handle. Wyn is determined not to fail her first real quest, so turns away from the Logout Tavern and heads straight for the mountains.

  “No rest for the wicked. We go after these frogs tonight.”

  Wyn approaches the walls of Lethisburg and spots an immediate problem. Men in dark plate armor, marked with the bright Golden Lion emblem, stand firm along the gate. The gate itself rests on the ground, shut to those who wish to exit. If she wants to get through the gate, she’s going to have to get past those guards.

  She senses her Essentia pool. It’s still fairly empty, despite her generator’s passive Essentia gain. She doesn’t have nearly enough to even consider casting an illusion. She’d just be stuck with Frostburn, doomed to freeze her fingers off. And while there are undoubtedly healers who can repair fingers lost to frostbite in this world, she’d rather not start her adventures down a few fingers.

  Wyn pulls open a flap of her mage’s robe. “Psai, tuck in here while I talk to the guards.”

  “Why would I do that? I could be helpful, you know! The other people really liked me,” he says, beaming with pride.

  “They also asked a lot of questions. Let’s not tempt fate. Just do it. Please.”

  Psai pouts at Wyn, changing to a nearly gray color in his utter sadness.

  “I’ll let you finish your lecture about theft and morality,” Wyn sighs.

  Psai brightens with a grin, and zips into the folds of her robe. Wyn pulls layers of the fabric over herself, doing everything she can to hopefully obscure Psai from sight. She’s not sure it’ll be enough to hide the bubbly orb, but it’s at least worth trying.

  “Halt!”

  A pair of Gilded Legion soldiers step forward, their halberds gleaming. Wyn follows their orders and halts, acting as innocently as possible. There’s no use in running, there’s no hope in fighting, so Wyn hopes she’s able to talk her way out of this one.

  “By order of the Marshal, none are to leave Lethisburg after dark. We’ve received reports of increased goblin and Boomfrog activity on the road. Travel is inadvisable.”

  “I got word that my grandmother is sick. She’s just up the mountain, and I’m very worried about her.” Wyn lies.

  “What town does your grandmother reside?”

  “Uh… Greens… burg?” says Wyn.

  The guard’s eyes narrow into slits. “Greensburg is hundreds of miles from here.”

  The air hangs heavy between them. Wyn’s smile doesn’t falter; if anything, it brightens, as though enthusiasm alone will cover up the gaping hole in her story. Her mind races, grasping for anything that sounds halfway convincing.

  “Yes! Greensburg! That’s right,” she blurts. “Which is why I need to leave now. It’s a long journey, and if I don’t get moving tonight, I’ll lose an entire day of travel. My poor grandmother can’t afford that kind of delay, not in her condition.”

  The guard blinks. “You’re telling me you plan to walk hundreds of miles. In the dark. through goblin country.”

  Wyn nods solemnly, trying not to visibly panic. “I’m a very determined granddaughter.”

  The second guard crosses his arms. “And your plan is what exactly? Just keep walking until you get there?”

  “Of course not,” Wyn says, her tone a touch too quick. “I’ll rest when the sun rises. Probably in a tree. Or a ditch. Somewhere with fewer goblins.”

  The taller guard exhales, unimpressed. “Miss, you’ll have to wait until morning. The gates stay closed after dark. Orders of the Marshal.”

  Wyn opens her mouth, then shuts it again. There’s no way she can win a standoff like this. Her eyes flick down to the scroll tucked into her belt, the one bearing the Boomfrog quest. An idea sparks, wild and reckless.

  “Wait,” she says slowly, “did you say there’s Boomfrog activity on the road?”

  The shorter guard frowns. “Aye. Why?”

  “Oh, well, that changes everything,” Wyn says, already producing the parchment with a flourish. Her pulse quickens. “Because I happen to be on official business from the Mage’s Guild. Or, well, the Arcane Consortium, but same thing really. See?” She thrusts the scroll forward. “It says it right here ‘Quest: Invasive Boomfrogs.’ I’m tasked with destroying those frogs!”

  Both guards lean in, squinting. Wyn’s grin wavers for just a second; her palms slick with sweat.

  “Hold on,” the taller one says, brow furrowing. “Five minutes ago you said you were off to visit your sick grandmother. Now you’re with the Mage’s Guild?”

  “Ah, right, yes, that,” Wyn stammers, her brain scrambling. “Well, my grandmother lives in Boomfrog territory, you see. So really, I’d be killing two frogs with one trip.”

  The shorter guard narrows his eyes. “So you’re hunting frogs... for your grandmother?”

  “Exactly!” Wyn says brightly, leaning into the nonsense. “She hates them. Terribly allergic. Swells right up.”

  The taller guard tilts his head. “Allergic to... frogs?”

  “Oh yes. The noise alone could finish her off. I’m doing her a mercy, really.”

  There’s a long pause. Wyn feels the silence pressing down on her like a weight. Her confidence is an act, but she holds it steady, chin up and smile unwavering. She feels Psai bristling in her robes and prays he stays silent long enough for this ruse to work.

  Finally, the taller guard sighs. “You’re not making any sense.”

  “Perfect!” Wyn says, chipper again. “That means I’m fitting right in with the Consortium.”

  They exchange another look, somewhere between disbelief and fatigue. Against what seems to be every rule of reason, the taller one lowers his halberd. “Fine. If you’re really on Guild business, you can pass. But if you get eaten or blown up, don’t come crying to us.”

  Wyn exhales in relief, careful not to let it show. “I can handle myself,” she says cheerfully, stepping past as the gate creaks open.

  “Stay on the main road,” one calls after her. “And if you see any Boomfrogs—”

  “I’ll take care of them. Not to worry!”

  Her voice carries into the darkness, half triumphant, half nervous laughter. As the gates groan shut behind her, the cool night air hits, and her grin finally fades. She presses a hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat still hammering.

  That should not have worked. She risked far too much by crafting her string of lies and half-truths, but she’s made it outside the city, and there’s no turning back. It’s time to hunt some frogs.

  Behind her, the guards stare into the dark road she vanished down.

  “Marshal’s not paying us enough for this,” one mutters.

  The other rubs his temple. “We probably shouldn’t have let her through.”

  “Definitely not.”

  They stand in silence for a long moment.

  The shorter one finally says, “We’re going to have to scoop up whatever’s left of her corpse, aren’t we?”