Customers were slowly piling in while routine took over. The excitement had faded as the story and its aftermath were spread quickly from mouth to ear.

  Almost everyone was still on edge so it wasn’t surprising when we all jumped in alarm when Reid burst into the bar.

  “Hey! My door!” Lupkep Pub shouted, but his cry went completely ignored as the boy spotted me and tore through the bar toward me. He didn’t hesitate to hug me tightly before anyone could even slow him down.

  “Whoa! Whoa, easy on the ribs, cowboy!” I shouted, wincing as he squeezed me far too tight.

  He pulled away from me and gave me an odd look, but didn’t fully release the embrace. “Sorry… and I’m sorry it took so long. We were making sure there weren’t any more of the beasts. I got here as soon as I could.”

  I’d finally managed to calm down enough that I didn’t need the blanket anymore, and most of the crowd had dispersed or at least settled into a more normal rhythm for the night. I wasn’t sure if I’d be up for storytelling, but I was happy to enjoy the atmosphere now that everything had settled down.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, too,” I said, pushing him into the next empty chair. I liked Reid as a friend, but the idea of us getting hitched and having two point-five kids was cemented too firmly in both of our parents' minds for my comfort. Seeing us hugging would only make that worse.

  The dumb boy was annoyingly cute, too—stupid teenage hormones.

  I didn’t feel like an adult. Instead, I felt like a girl who had incredibly vivid memories from another person. It helped that they all came slowly, forming in my mind over time, and allowing me to be accustomed to this world, instead of shocked by it.

  Having a system was normal. Stats and talents and skills? Normal. There was no shocked discovery. That was just what I’d grown up with. When I started remembering a world where that wasn’t the case, that was what felt odd.

  Yet there were so many more memories of April. They were so much more vivid, that life so much more exciting than this one. I wanted that! Or… or something like it!

  Finding out Mom apparently had previously undiscovered business acumen not-withstanding, I still didn’t really want to stay here. I was an adult for the second time, in an entirely new world! I wanted to become someone! Maybe a great teacher, or try and get accepted into the one of the magic schools. Maybe I’d finally figure out indoor plumbing! Maybe I’d Wright Brothers it up and invent an airplane!

  Or… it seemed I might invent war weapons and sit on my eighty copper sales? Wait, how did patents work? Regardless, I wanted to leave! I wanted to go out and see the world and be someone! Just like I had when I’d been April!

  I gazed around the room, meeting the eyes of people I’d known forever, one by one. They knew me, too. Lupkep, the Bartender, who was the only other elite talent in the entire town besides Hadra. His wife Edra, who could make a feast out of tree bark. Dobretin, the Mayor, knew me by name. He always wanted to hear stories about loves lost and found again, but tried to hide it by suggesting action stories when he thought someone might notice.

  There was Reid’s Dad, Korlotom, surrounded by a group of rowdy hunters as they admired the troll tusk he’d taken as a trophy. The twins, constantly trying and failing to steal it, completely unbothered by the difference in ages as they conspired to earn their own trophy.

  Time passed as the evening wound on as I basked in the care and support of people I loved. For once, I didn’t feel like being very loud, instead content to just watch the people around me, while Mom and Hadra talked about inconsequential things. Reid sat next to me, solid as a rock.

  Dad popped in at some point and sat down next to Mom, after placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. He’d didn’t say anything, but he hugged me then. Tight. Terrified to lose me and relieved that he hadn’t all at once.

  Hadra was there, of course, and Mom, too. Even Hadra’s mom, Uraleka, came by to hug me.

  They’d all seen me grow up and had more of a hand in raising me than April Halligan ever had. In fact, for all the glamour of social media, Hollywood, and quazi-YouTube stardom, she’d never had a quarter as many friends as I did now…

  And this place, aglow with fireflies as the sun set outside?

  …Fantastic.

  The air was warm, but the buildings were built to let the wind flow through. Soon, someone would start to sing and maybe others would dance as well.

  Sure, the harvest season was coming soon, and that would be tough. Life was simple, but…

  ‘What do I want to find so desperately out there that I don’t already have, here?’ The thought ran unbidden across my mind, paralyzing me.

  I blinked, suddenly realizing I had subconsciously reached back out to lay my hand on Reid’s while I was lost in thought. Flushing, I snatched it away like I’d noticed a spider on it.

  Hadra snickered into her ale, the traitor.

  Reid didn’t seem offended in the slightest, and I flushed.

  Thankfully, Hadra took pity on me. “So, oh mighty Troll Blinder! Only a few more hours. What do you think your talent will be?”

  “I bet she gets a creepy potion skill, like Dr. Jekyll!” Reid jabbed, referencing one of my own stories, retold as best I could recall from April’s memories.

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  “Rude!” I shouted, mock offended.

  “Maybe you could create the reverse potion and turn War Trolls into unthreatening little house cats?” he suggested, more seriously this time.

  “She sort of already did that. Did you see how excited that soldier looked?”

  “No!” Reid pouted. “I did see the troll, though. Seriously, Mera… you… I don’t know if I could’ve been as brave as you.”

  “It wasn’t bravery! It was blind panic, you dopes! You’re making more out of it than it was!”

  “I think you’re downplaying it,” Hadra chimed in.

  “I was just lucky. Don’t make a big deal out of this, okay?”

  “Elmerina, the Storyteller, doesn’t want to have her own story,” Reid chuckled at the irony. “Never mind that there are going to be songs about this from here to Denarla! Maybe even all the way to the capitol!”

  “If it were actually something worthy of a story, I think I’d be excited about it,” I said. “I’ll probably end up the damsel in distress while some smart private thinks up a new weapon on the fly to rescue the poor village girl. You know how the army likes their propaganda.”

  “She’s probably right, there. Unless…!” Hadra said with a glint in her eye, as she stared over at Reid’s dad.

  I’d known Hadra for all of this life, and I immediately knew what she was thinking.

  “Don’t you dare! Don’t…!”

  She jumped up and dashed off, running for Reid’s dad, screaming about how I deserved a fitting song. From Korlotom’s expression, he agreed entirely.

  I sunk my head down onto the table. This wasn’t what I wanted to be famous for! Fame was a tightly controlled narrative and this sort of thing never lasted! It seemed Hadra was going to drag me into my fifteen minutes kicking and screaming either way though.

  “So… do you have anything you’d like for your talent to be?” Reid asked, and I was suddenly aware that Mom had left the table, too. It was just me and him.

  That wasn’t unusual. We’d been friends almost as long as Hadra and I had, but there was something different lately. Something electric. It made me a bit nervous. Which was ridiculous. I had all of April’s memories. Romance was not a mystery to me.

  Still…

  “I really don’t know. I’m hoping to get something at least as good as Hadra’s. Maybe a doubling of my storytelling skill? I bet if I get it high enough, I can start making illusions that show you what I see.”

  That was probably true. I was generally a jack of all trades, master of none type, specifically because I didn’t want to be nailed down to a single job for the rest of my life, but Hadra? She’d known she wanted to be a weaver before she’d turned seven. She’d focused her entire life on the trade, and her skills began to look like magic all their own somewhere along the way.

  All skills worked that way. The further advanced they became, the more otherworldly they began to look in practice. Somewhere around the 150 to 200 area any skill became magic.

  It was, of course, exceedingly difficult to earn points in a skill past 100 though, which explained why I had so many skills, but none of them were even close to Hadra’s 152 in weaving.

  “That would sure be something to see,” he said. “You’re the best storyteller in all of Pemolar’s hill, you know. Everyone thinks so.”

  “You’re buttering me up for something,” I accused.

  He shrugged. “Maybe I’m just realizing how amazing you are? Today, when I thought you might be hurt? Fuck, Mera. Today put some things into perspective for me.”

  “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  “Like how awful life would be without you in it,” he said, staring me straight in the eyes.

  I blanched, taken aback, then flushed. He… he wasn’t shying away or… fucking hell he was still staring.

  “Heh, w-would you miss my stupid stories that much?” I said.

  “I’d miss a hell of a lot more than your stories, Mera.”

  “Stop it! You’re fucking with me!” I said, laughing nervously.

  Instead he dropped a hand on mine. I looked up, realizing that I’d dropped eye contact with him for some reason. This was not how our conversations normally went! Reid was shy and standoffish! I was the one who was forward! Well. Not this forward but…!

  “I’m not, Mera. I know we both always thought it was stupid how our parents kept pushing…”

  “It certainly isn’t subtle,” I replied with a chuckle.

  “...but maybe they had a point?”

  I paused, looking at him.

  “We had a lot of adrenaline today. This is just fear talking. I don’t think we should jump into anything we’re not ready for.” I trailed off.

  I was still planning to leave! Shit, hadn’t I always mocked the girls who’d never left their hometown and married their high school sweetheart?

  “Buuuut….?” Reid prodded with a cheeky grin.

  I poked him in the side and he laughed. “I’m trying to be diplomatic here, you ass!”

  “I know. And you’re right. I know we’ve always thought it was ridiculous, and I’m not saying I want to ask you to marry me tomorrow. But this is me saying ‘I’m interested.’ If you are, too?” he shrugged. “Just think about it.”

  I stared at him for a moment.

  “Fucking hell, you’re smooth when you want to be, aren’t you?” I asked.

  “I think I’ll look back on this as one of my better moments,” he said. “But in the interest of making sure you don’t bolt back home on your own celebration night, I’ll back off.”

  I scowled. “I’m not going to bolt!”

  “What is adrenaline? No. Better question. What’s a cowboy?”

  I blinked, taken aback by the non sequitur. Then I realized that he was changing the subject. He was doing it for me. Making me feel comfortable. Caring.

  ‘I might be in trouble,’ I thought as I took in the burgeoning definition in his arms. His chest. His kind eyes.

  “Well. Uhm. B-buddy. Heh. I’ve got a story about that. Once upon a time in the west…”

  I hadn’t spoken loudly, but the entire bar seemed to go quiet. A chorus of shushes filled the air before the whole place began to simmer with anticipation.

  I didn’t stand. I didn’t feel up for a full-body tale this evening. But I did begin to speak, and it calmed me.

  I swear the fireflies dimmed just for me.

  When I was telling a story… that was when I felt most at home.