He stepped out into a deserted alleyway, a swinging metal lantern the only witness to his arrival. It cast a bright light on the bricks and stones that made up the buildings to the sides of it; above it, an unfamiliar expanse of stars stretched across the sky. There was a light breeze, but even with that it was warm here, wherever here was; Jay felt the telltale prickle of sweat under his jacket. His jacket. He was dressed for the winter because he had just been alive in another place, another time. He closed his eyes, trying to steady himself despite the insanity he had been swept into. He was still numb from the shock of what had happened in the Accruer’s office, but it was beginning to wear off, and he had a bad feeling that when reality set in, he was going to be a blubbering mess.
He forced his eyes open, trying to get a handle on his new situation. A quick 360 told him that the door to the office was gone, which didn’t surprise him. He took a moment to make sure that he was still intact, running his hands up and down his front experimentally.
He was still dressed in his work uniform, grey polo and black chinos exactly as they had been before his untimely death. Over them, the jacket his mother had given him for Christmas (do not cry, do not cry, we can cry later) was zipped up to his neck, black canvas still damp from the sleet that morning. No phone, no wallet, no keys, not even the gross napkin he had used to wipe his runny nose in the parking lot. Jay flexed his gloveless fingers (he had left them in the car, how stupid of him), relieved to see that he had ten and they all bent correctly. He didn’t have a mirror, but a cursory exploration of his face told him that nothing there had changed, either: his skin was smooth, cheeks still round, nose still firmly in place. At least I have that going for me. What the hell am I supposed to do now?
The sudden spike of despair caused tears to well at the corner of Jay’s eyes. Goddamnit, I said don’t cry. His body, of course, did not listen: a sob rose from his throat, and that only made the tears worse. He took a shaky step towards the building on his left, bracing his back against the smooth stone wall, and sank to a sitting position on the gravel path beneath. He gave in, then, to the wave of emotions that were barely held at bay, and the tears ran in earnest down his face.
He stayed like that for a while; more than minutes, less than hours, although it felt like forever either way. When he finally ran out of tears, he leaned his head back against the wall behind him and grimaced. He probably looked like a mess, with his jacket balled up in his lap (he was using the inside to wipe his nose, which was gross but whatever) and his hair all over the place, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t stop thinking about the life he had been so cruelly torn away from. I was going to go to the bookstore on Saturday, and play games all day Sunday. I was only three months into my job. My whole life was ahead of me, and now it’s not, now I’m stuck in a place I don’t know because of reasons I don’t understand. This sucks.
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice that was so close that Jay scrambled to his feet and yelped in surprise. “What’s the matter? Are you okay?” A child peered up at him with wide, appraising eyes. He couldn’t have been more than ten, his round face and high pitched voice telltale signs of youth. His dark brown skin and eyes were accentuated by a loose fitting long sleeved yellow shirt and pants, which he wore without any signs of discomfort despite the warmth of the night. His hair was braided in neat, symmetrical rows that disappeared behind his head and came forward again, the ends dangling at the top of his stomach. Despite his obvious youth, he and Jay were almost the same size; he only had to tilt his head back to stare into the older man’s eyes.
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Jay swallowed, but the kid spoke before he could put any words together. “Sorry that I scared you. I tried to make some noise, but I think you were crying too loudly to hear. You’re not from the city, are you? No one would wear something like that here if they were.”
These statements, if made by someone else, could have been taken as rude or insulting; from this kid’s lips, they were simply a statement of fact. All that Jay could do was nod. The child nodded back, his eyebrows coming together in sympathy. “I figured. Are you an Outsider? I’ve never met one before, but in the stories they all act weird and have crazy clothes.” What he didn’t say was you check both of those boxes, but the words hung between the two of them as a mutual understanding.
A laugh bubbled up from Jay’s throat, surprising the both of them. He nodded, using the back of his hand to wipe away the last of his tears. “Yeah, I’m… I’m not from here.” An Outsider—that’s what the Accruer said I would be called when I got here. I guess that’s the term for someone like me. “Where I come from, these are normal clothes, although I am acting a little weird even for Earth standards.” He laughed again, this time more genuinely, and the boy’s face broke out into a grin.
“Cool! Hava and Jenn are going to be so jealous that I saw you first. Okay, listen.” He lowered his voice, leaning forward just a bit. “My parents own the inn next door, it’s called the Rooted Dryad, there’s a sign and everything. I’m not supposed to be outside, so I can’t take you there. But if you go there and talk to my mom or Jenn, they’ll let you stay for the night. I’m gonna sneak back to my room, so wait a few minutes before you go in so I can pretend to get up and come downstairs.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, and Jay felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. The boy leaned forward even farther, suddenly dead serious. “But you have to swear not to tell anyone that you met me out here. I would be in a lot of trouble if you did. Okay?”
Jay held one hand up and put the other over his heart. “I swear I won’t tell anyone.” The kid relaxed, his smile returning, and gestured towards the opening of the alley. “The inn is to the right when you walk out of here. I’m going to go another way to get to my room. I’ll see you soon!” And then he was gone, striding down the other end of the alley and disappearing around the corner so fast it was like he had never been there.
Brushing the gravel off the back of his pants, Jay tried to make himself look presentable. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a mirror around, but smoothing out his short hair thankfully didn’t require one. He straightened his shirt, and after a moment of consideration, he untucked it and tucked it back in. After rubbing the crusties and tear residue out of his eyes and shaking out his jacket he deemed himself, at the very least, inn-ready. Whatever the hell that means.
While he waited for the kid (he hadn’t even gotten his name, but that was probably for the best since he had promised not to tell anyone they met) to get in position, Jay took a deep breath and looked up at the sky again. For the first time since coming here, he found himself feeling a kind of excitement; the grief and sadness were still there, sitting heavy in his chest, but the idea of a whole new world filled with magic was starting to set in. I have a lot to be sad about, he thought, but I think there’s a lot to be happy about here, too. I just need to find it. He squared his shoulders, shrugging into his jacket, and stepped out into the main street.
