There’s a town, a mid-sized town, twelve thousand strong, deep into the island meadow opposing the great forest. In that town live the ones who seek only peace and prosperity—the Dzo Shuple.

  But they weren’t always peaceful. In the beginning, they were distraught amongst themselves as they split into familiar groups. Race, language, belief, all too human to forget. As the island is only so big, however, their expansions in clearly segregated groups gradually melded, as the villages combined into became one.

  The Dzo Shuple are as close knit as one big family; every one of them know one another, if not, they act like they do and help each other in any way possible.

  But, what if someone from a completely different world entered the fray?

  It’s subtle, but the townsfolk are just a tad bit different from Julia; maybe that’s the reason for her ill-treatment. Irrational beliefs such as racism persists in another world as do, too, humans exist the same, eh?

  “So, what’s your plan of action? Entering the town would result in her getting into even more danger, would it not?”

  “Yeah, but I’m starving here. If I die, you die also, Glass.”

  “?'muloipaa! Bik’tax et tut?oo!”

  “Okay, so, we first get something to eat, while protecting her from and gathering info about the fellas who battered her. Sounds sound, no?”

  “Anhaan…”

  Through the dense needles of the spruce, past the bushels of poisonberry bushes, the town lit in lanterns glimmer at the palm of the mountain. No buildings taller than 2 stories, no stalls wider than 6 people, no light dimmer than a wax candle could be seen in the area. It’s a wonder how a community as secluded as this managed to grow to this size.

  Lish’s eyes, however, weren’t ogling the marvel of human perseverance fit inside the palm of the island—his eyes and nose, and ears and mouth, were all focused on the chophouse newly grilling their rabbits. The aroma of the applewood seeping through the succulent seers and the sides of skewered scallop siren Lish closer.

  Without a conscience of mind—an idea of how he even got there—he had reached for a kabob.

  "KA?O ?IBLI?! A'?U FI MA?SO!",

  shouted the vendor.

  “A tad too harsh, no? Even though he doesn’t know us, he took the defensive quite quickly. Perhaps someone of our origin tried to steal something before. Racism, is it not?”

  And the vendor hit the girl.

  “sora rop?o tuu! et ?’jaub ?iblit?!”

  Julia didn’t really pop out from the crowd as much as Lish, if anything, a bit droopier eyes, a bit taller torso, and a bit wider mouth. But it was strange that, from whichever way you look at it, Lish should’ve been the immediate alien, but she was seen for even worse, even a devil.

  There are cultures that throw salt to ward off evil. This also seemed to translate here, but the salt is, instead, the red berries Lish didn’t get the chance of eating.

  The tender raspberries, unwanted by people as they had toxins unfit for humans, were thrown at the shunned girl. This didn’t bother him, though, as his hunger was more urgent than morality or formality.

  Without a thought put behind the action, Lish started to catch the berries before they hit her. And he ate them.

  “lie dz’xe sora xo-?”,

  startled the vendor.

  “Marginal poison contents, but the alcohol percentage is quite high—almost 35% ABV! There must be a stronger yeast, no?”

  Conventional yeast, one of the most common fungi in our world, can yield up to 22% ABV before the alcohol concentration kills them. That is why if you want to get a drier one, you distill the fermented juice, multiple times if you want an even stronger drink.

  But this world is brutal. As such, as it is their goal to survive and multiply, the strands that survived have evolved to withstand excessive amounts of ethanol by volume in their environment; makes you think the bars should be filled with friends laughing their livers away.

  “Yo! Traveler! You’re not supposed to eat those! You’ll die in a week or so. Do you have a place to live for your numbered days?”

  How unlikely is it for two people from anywhere in the world to meet each other? 5%? 1%? 0.1%? No… 1 in 1’000’000—a pure unadulterated chance of less than 0.0001% to meet an arbitrary individual from anywhere in the world. Yet, despite the odds, Lish managed to locate someone else who spoke the Lingua Franca.

  “Aan? Who are you to decide when I die? … But I’ll take your offer, mister. If you don’t mind, I’d also like to take my friend here with me”, answered Lish.

  “… Sure! Y’all are welcome. You must be starving; care to catch a late-night tea?”, the stranger answered.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “It’s highly unlikely that we meet another one of us here, you know. The design, however sloppy it may be, should have distributed us evenly across the world, no? We should be careful.”

  But Lish couldn’t have cared less—he was starving.

  So, they headed to the stranger’s house, having taken some rabbits from the stall.

  …

  “So, you were dropped here today, I’m guessing? You must’ve picked blue then. I came here a month ago, got lost in a typhoon. The people welcomed me, though. They spoke a variant of a language I knew from the mainland. You know, you should learn it too… Say, what’s your name, Big Eyes?”

  “Sen fajo, ?’x?o ?’sen”

  “Yeah, yes, the blue one. I’m Lish—L-I-Sh. And you?”

  “Ah, Lish, gotcha. You can call me… Isha. Hey, what is she doing with you? Can’t you see the ‘blaring red’ around her?”

  “I don’t see any red.”

  “I don’t see any red.”

  “Really? Wow. What color do you see then?”

  “Beige. With a hint of blue bruising…”

  “Oh, no, no, no, not her skin color, her aura color.”

  “Sen fu ?o?o. Jae?y koy.”

  “Perhaps I have mistaken, he is not comparable to us. His ‘equalizer’ is sensing the colors of others, it seems. I can’t see any meters on him. But it might as well be in his hind, stuck all the way up.

  “No, I don’t see any other color, especially any aura. It just might be you, mate.”

  Through the winding streets of the town, past the old villages once segregated by insignificant differences, the residential neighborhood came into view. Just as the markets were no taller nor bigger than they needed to be, the houses, too, are small and neat.

  “It just might … And here’s my humble abode. You know, I’m something of a miracle maker myself—I ‘cured’ a small epidemic in this town. And they built this house for me for their gratitude.”

  Inside, the house is furnished with mostly wooden cupboards and chests, seemingly filled with souvenirs from this world. One atop the chest, bathed in the candlelight, is a felt fox, adorned with the initials R and E.

  “Nu, sit, sit! I’ll make some tea.”

  Right as Isha came home, he went over to the other room, as if he had left bread in the oven. Julia clung to Lish as soon as he left the room.

  Though, it was odd. Jul didn’t pay a smidge of care when she was vulnerable from all sides in the forest but now, in an enclosed space with a trusted ally, she clung on tight. Even her body language changed; her eyes looked for an opening to flee; more on high alert, like a hare in a cage.

  “o??oko ?abra bi… Li?a, ?ip ?’yl bik’tut ?abro. Eley, ?’yley, mo el.”

  “Hey, Isha, can you translate what she’s saying for me? I can discern my name and ‘mo’ but nothing else.”

  The expression on her face says it all: “Please, don’t.”

  “‘I’m getting hungry here. We should stay here and eat, Lish. Please, it’s fine, I swear’, she says. And you should listen to her, Lish—stay for dinner. We can’t possibly eat these rabbits ourselves…

  So bir us?o moro. ?i? lupuu, kie kani ven xu? Koki ryey, raie ?’so ko xu, tsie jaar xu...”

  Maybe being alone in another world makes one soft. Isha looked to be from the east; a disheveled man, showing signs of balding with a thinned head of hair, showing more care to strangers than most families show for each other.

  There’s a cellar below the house, entered through a passage half hidden under the rug in the main room. Isha stored his meat there and he went to get it.

  “Oye! Lish! Have you ever eaten cured meat before? They’re my favorites so I’ll make something with it tonight, okay?”

  Lish and Jul were both still in the kitchen–dining room.

  “Yley Li?. Yley bik’tut, mo el.”

  He didn’t understand her one bit. Even then, his mind wouldn’t change from eating dinner at Isha’s…

  “Nu, enjoy! Borscht with a generous helping of cured lamb. Though, I do like my soup cold, so I won’t be able to dine with you today, понятно?”

  To think back at it, the vendor gave the hare without a toll in return. And this house, a house with enough room to accommodate another 2 people, couldn’t be gifted to a “nobody”; such that Isha feels of higher status. But he’s normal, humble, and rarely talks about his social life, he’s better than most of the nuisances back home.

  Julia should’ve been starving, yet she hadn’t eaten any of the offerings of Isha.

  “Caution: High toxin concentration.”

  Out of the sins of our world, murdering others is the most severely punished crime. As such, as it is for a lot of countries, the punishment is often reciprocal justice: the death penalty. In most of the US, if you are convicted of capital crime, you will be sent to the chair, often for electrocution or lethal injection. In such cruel human retribution for the crimes of others, we find mercy; in vain of pity towards the convicted in their lives, the injection and their last moments would be painless and quick.

  A cocktail consisting of 100 milliequivalents Potassium chloride, 5 grams Sodium thiopental, and 100 milligrams of Pancuronium bromide is administered via an injection, resulting in asystole in 30 to 60 seconds. This is considered humane by standards of other execution methods, especially civil compared to stoning or guillotine.

  However, the reason for this method being humane isn’t the fast death, nor the painlessness, but the lack of the contrary being reported. In the case of the guillotine being used, the severed head will always show the expression of immense pain and anguish, but for a lethal injection, your muscles are hijacked and paralyzed by the Pancuronium bromide and, your feelings are veiled by the indifference at your life’s end.

  …

  Lish is now paralyzed. He cannot get up and his face is planted in the soup. Glass is no longer screaming in his head, and his mind is at peace, no thoughts, no worries, no pain.

  Again, he has fallen. His head, finally, was raised from the soup by Isha, grabbed and flung over the back of the chair.

  “Mo el, ?’?’etey ?ip’an. ?iro, mo eley, ?’lexey. ?’?’etey Li?’an. Vi?o sen’an, eley.”

  Jul must’ve been starving. Lish sure was. And now what happened; poisoned by an associate.