Prelude: To Domathra (Isekai/LitRPG/OP MC)

Daniel sat as far back against the corner of the couch as the cushions would let him. Jethro and Edna’s sitting room only had a single couch and two chairs, so he was forced to sit next to the adventurer…not that he was against it, but you know…such powerful people had this aura about them. It made him instinctively want to shrink away.

That said, she seemed ‘normal’, for lack of a better descriptor. She was around average height, with a slim build, dark hair, and pale eyes. The contrast between her dark hair and bright eyes that seemed almost to glow was somewhat remarkable, but for a high-level adventurer, it was positively mundane.

The only real strangeness was the way she seemed weightless. He thought he might be hallucinating from the stress and lack of sleep, but he could swear she was constantly on the verge of floating off the couch. 

She sat with one leg crossed over the other, her arms folded across her chest. Daniel was unsure what specifically gave him this impression, but he thought crossing her legs was meant to pin her down to the furniture.

He exhaled, chasing the frivolous thoughts away. The real issue at hand was the thing everyone was currently staring at: the bound captives.

“Well, I don’t know how to thank you for capturing these lads, Miss Nef, but I sure don’t know what to do from here,” Jethro said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had lingered since they all sat down.

“No need for either. I captured them for my own needs and will take them to Baron Buchanan myself,” she explained nonchalantly.

“Oh, you know the baron?” Edna asked, perking up at the hint of an authority she recognized.

“Yes, we met a couple of weeks ago. He hired me to track down the individuals responsible for burning the Halfords’ farm. One of those individuals gave us quite a bit of information. I am curious what these two will have to say,” Nef said, glancing at the two prisoners.

They were both awake now, and both seemingly more alert than when Nef had first arrived. They sat back-to-back, their wrists and ankles bound by some force that Daniel still could not see. They had been quiet the entire time, which he thought was either due to their mouths being covered by that same invisible magic or fear. 

The looks on their faces when Nef turned her attention to them told Daniel it was probably the latter, or maybe both.

“Regardless, the organization behind these attacks seems to take a while to respond to their agents being captured, so I would not expect another attack for at least a week. By that time, the baron should be able to mobilize some countermeasures to protect the farms in his domain,” Nef said, turning her attention back to the group.

“A week seems awfully short for the baron to mobilize anything. We’re a several-day walk from even the closest farm, let alone the baron’s estate,” Edna muttered, thinking aloud.

“It is not a problem. I will drop the prisoners off at the baron’s estate later today. I will not be walking,” Nef declared.

The room went silent as everyone digested the potential implications of that statement.

“Well, if it’s that simple…” Jethro said, breaking the silence. “Regardless, you said you wished to speak with us? Was it just to inform us of this?”

“No, I have a proposition for all of you,” Nef said, looking at each of the three in turn.

“A proposition? Miss Nef, while I appreciate the thought, you realize we are just humble farmers, right? What could we possibly assist a powerful adventurer with?” Edna asked, her brow furrowed.

“I am the founder of a Guild in the Crater. We have been…hmm…distracted for the past two hundred years-or-so, but we are reemerging, and as such, we need stable supply lines.

“Our guild possesses the resources and abilities to feed ourselves, but we have recently been hosting guests, guests who are at or below level 150. Our supply of foods that can satiate those levels is running low,” Nef explained.

“You want…to buy our crops?” Jethro asked, his confusion written all over his face.

“Yes, but not just yours. We would like to become the prime customer for you and all other farms selling low-level food in the region, and we would like Daniel to transport the goods on a regular schedule,” Nef said, staring at Daniel.

“Well, I could add another stop to my regular—wait, did you say the Crater? Your guild is located in the most dangerous place in the world, and you want me—by myself—to venture there to trade?” Daniel asked, incredulous.

He was not a particularly well-read man, but he had traveled extensively in Radaar. He knew about the dangers of The Crater, whispered in every children’s bedtime story, hinted in every bard’s song. Everyone in Radaar lived in constant fear of the Gloam, yet if the songs and stories were to be believed, the Crater made it seem a children’s playground.

“Well, setting up a stable, safe supply route is a long-term goal. So, for now, I would simply like to arrange a place for you to meet one of my guild members to do trade,” Nef said with a shrug.

“For now?” Daniel pushed.

“Eventually, once a safe route has been constructed, I would like for you to be our primary supplier, and for us to be your primary customer,” she said without missing a beat.

Daniel sat in stunned silence, attempting in vain to process the magnitude of Nef’s request. He literally could not fathom a viable path that would see him arriving at, let alone leaving, the Crater safely. It just was not possible.

“Why? Why me? I understand the need for low-level food, but there are huge trading companies that can handle that sort of thing. Why me? Why not the—” Daniel started.

“Nemesis will do no business with the Taolu Trading Company,” Nef declared so firmly that a silence followed, which no one dared to break for several seconds.

“But me? By myself? Why?” Daniel eventually asked.

“To be clear, we are discussing long-term goals. What I speak of, Daniel, is not you alone. It is you with our backing, with Nemesis’s backing.

“Forgive me for my espionage, but I have watched you for several days, Daniel. I have watched how you behave, and more importantly, how the people around you respond to your actions. You are a good man with grounded principles.

“I will level with you, Daniel: I am not looking for you, specifically. I am looking for a good person who treats others well and deals fairly. I am looking for someone of that persuasion to invest in. I want to build a robust supply chain, backed by Nemesis, to handle all trade stretching from Radaar to the Gloam, the Strip, and the Crater beyond.

“I will not water a tree with rotted roots, however. While the Taolu is an enormous oak, its trunk rots from the inside. You, Daniel, are a tiny, pure sapling. It is you, or someone like you, that I would water and nurture so that you might grow into a mighty tree, or even a whole forest, free from decay and other…maladies.

“This is what I am offering you, Daniel. There is no pressure. You can say no, and I will simply look elsewhere. However, you have the personality, and you already have the connections with the low-level growers,” Nef explained, motioning toward Edna and Jethro, “To get us what we need in the immediate and long-term.”

Daniel, Jethro, and Edna sat in silence, and Daniel could tell from their looks that the other two were just as dumbfounded as he. What was he supposed to say?

Before he could even remember how to speak, Nef suddenly rose to her feet.

“Well, that is the eventual goal, anyway. As I said, for now, I simply wish to arrange a place for you to meet with a Nemesis representative here in Radaar to trade regularly,” she said, walking over toward the prisoners.

Suddenly, space rent itself in two, splitting in a straight line nearly from floor to ceiling. The rift widened, swirling with a purple glow, and an arch of strange metal formed around the rift. Within the time it took to blink, a gate stood in the center of the Fulgathors’ farmhouse, casting an eerie purple light that clashed against the sunlight filtering through the half-drawn curtains.

“Take a few days, a week, even, to consider. I do not require an answer right away. I would also be interested in trading here in Radaar, even if you do not wish to participate in the long-term trade route,” Nef said, grabbing the prisoners by the back of their clothes and carelessly tossing them into the gate like ragdolls.

She turned back and glanced between the three, still sitting, flabbergasted, around the small wooden table, their chilled drinks, unpoured and untouched, dripping with sweat in the afternoon heat.

“Just to be safe, and as a sample of what Nemesis could provide for you, allow me to offer you protection. It is true that it will take the baron an indeterminate amount of time to station his men in parts so remote, so I will provide protection for you all in the interim,” Nef explained, bringing her two hands together, yet slightly apart, as if she were gripping an invisible ball between them.

A bright green light shone from between her palms, and Daniel had to turn away lest he be blinded. A breeze that smelled of spring flowers filled the room. It reminded Daniel of pollen season so thoroughly that he nearly sneezed at the mere memory.

When he returned his gaze to Nef, he found her relaxed in front of the gate, her arms once again crossed in front of her chest. Three green lights, no bigger than his hand, floated around her head. She smiled at them and then nodded toward Daniel and the Fulgathors.

He scambled back into his cushion as one of the lights raced over, stopping directly in front of his face. He felt himself go cross-eyed as he tried to focus on the flickering light. It seemed to be a creature, though its form was indeterminate. It shifted between a green cloud, a small girl, a squirrel, a bird, and several other forms as he watched.

It seemed to stare at him for several long seconds, but it eventually flitted around his head, spinning and circling before landing on his shoulder. It was a strange sensation. He did not feel something resting on his shoulder, more like a gentle breeze that stirred the cloth covering his shoulder and nothing else, like a localized wind.

“These are silphids. They will protect you until the baron can send his soldiers. They are wind spirits, undoubtedly benevolent, if a tad mischievous,” Nef explained, wearing a small smile.

Daniel wracked his brain, trying to fan the small flame of memory that the creatures’ names stirred. In the back of his mind, he recalled hearing a bard’s song in one of the taverns in Promise City.

“Silphids are…these are fey, right?” he asked, snapping his fingers as the memory suddenly came back to him.

“That is correct, though they are high fey, technically. They represent the wind, in all its propensity for gentleness and destruction. They should be more than adequate protection from anything this far south,” Nef said, nodding.

“I will return to you, Daniel, in a few days. Please think on my offer and whether it is of any interest to you in the meantime,” she said, not waiting for a response.

Nef walked through the gate, and it vanished with a pop as soon as she was through. The room was quiet, all staring at the spot where space had just torn itself asunder, yet it was now healed, as if never wounded in the first place.

Daniel’s mouth was agape for a different reason: another memory of bard’s song had bubbled to the surface of his mind, and he found himself glancing at the green light on his shoulder with renewed trepidation.

High fey?!

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