Calm Before Chaos

That morning, Eric rose before the others. Kaelen still slept in the bed beside him—they had been back to back through the night. Across the room, Lyren and Welyvyne lay near the window, Lyren’s arm draped loosely around Welyvyne’s waist.

Eric smiled faintly, then slipped to the floor and lowered himself into a seated position. He closed his eyes, focusing inward on the steady rhythm of his core.

An hour passed before the shift came—a quiet click in his chest as water finally settled into orbit, aligning with fire and air.

The air seemed to hum for a moment before fading back to stillness.

A heartbeat later, the others stirred as one. Welyvyne jolted upright, eyes wide.

“What was that?” she gasped.

Eric opened his eyes a moment later. Kaelen was already sitting up, scanning the room as if expecting something to leap out of the shadows.

Lyren rubbed her arms, frowning. “It feels… like danger,” she said slowly. Her gaze shifted to Eric. “From you.”

Kaelen turned toward him at that, hand brushing instinctively against his sword.

Eric blinked, genuinely confused. “Danger? I’m not doing anything.”

Welyvyne looked at him, eyes wide. “She’s right—it is coming from you.”

Eric blinked, then gave a crooked grin. “I swear I wasn’t planning on murdering you in your sleep.”

Kaelen exhaled slowly, the edge leaving his posture. “Something’s changed about you,” he said. “What were you doing before we all felt our danger sense go off—on you?”

Eric smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I finally did it—I got water in line with my fire and air affinities. Guess that surge you felt was my core lighting up for a second.”

Lyren jumped up, eyes wide. “Wait—you can do that? How?”

“Wait.” Eric looked from Welyvyne to Lyren, brow furrowing. “I thought you knew I was working on that. I figured Welyvyne would’ve told you.”

Welyvyne shrugged, still half wrapped in her blanket. “I honestly didn’t know what you were doing. You were… pretty vague about it.”

Eric winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. I said I didn’t want to get your hopes up and then never actually explained what I was doing.”

Kaelen furrowed his brow. “So… how did you do it?”

Eric smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, right—uh, it’s hard to explain. I just… focused on the water affinity. Kept picturing how it moves—how it flows, transfers energy, fills every space it can. The longer I held that thought, the closer it felt, like it was orbiting into place. Then, all at once, it just… clicked.”

He paused, eyes distant. “It wasn’t like learning a spell. It was more like a flood of understanding—like I finally felt how water works.”

Lyren laughed, the sound bright with disbelief. “You gained another affinity! And we all can do that!”

She turned to the others, eyes wide with realization. “Do you see what Eric’s done here? He’s changed the entire way we think about affinities! We’ve always believed we only have one—the one we can control the easiest. But Eric just proved that isn’t true.”

Welyvyne blinked, still half-stunned. “You mean we can align them? Not just wield one by birthright?”

Lyren nodded, grinning now. “Exactly! If he can align three, then affinity isn’t fixed—it’s learned!”

Welyvyne was the first to speak. “I want to try.”

Eric smiled. “It won’t happen all at once. It took me over a week to get it right—but you’ll feel it when it starts to draw in.”

Lyren had already closed her eyes, settling into focus. Welyvyne joined her a moment later, mirroring the calm in her expression.

Kaelen crossed his arms, hesitated, then sighed. “I don’t know if this will work for me,” he admitted, “but there’s no harm in trying.” He closed his eyes too, shoulders easing.

Eric shook his head with a small smile. “Alright then. I’ll head to the market and pick up what I need, then drop the supplies off at the Valean family’s home. I’ll be back after that.”

Eric washed his face in the basin before leaving the room. The hallway was quiet, sunlight spilling through the window at the end as he made his way downstairs.

At the counter sat an older man, polishing a glass with a worn rag. The faint scent of ale and woodsmoke lingered in the air.

“How can I help you, young lad?” the man asked without looking up, his voice rough but not unkind.

“I’ve come to pay for the room,” Eric said.

The man finally looked up, one eye squinting against the morning light filtering through the window.

“Tha' so? Mos' folks wai' till after breakfas'.”

Eric smiled faintly. “Habit. I prefer settling debts early.”

The old man chuckled, setting the glass aside. “You sound like a man who’s had to keep his own books. One night, was it?”

Eric nodded. “Top of the stairs, last on the left.”

“Aiy, tha’ll be five Skyls,” the innkeeper said, reaching for his ledger. “Will you be staying another nigh’?”

“I don’t think so, we should be leaving before long,” Eric said as he summoned a Solyr from his inventory.

The old man squinted as Eric lifted his hand—and with a faint shimmer, a Solyr appeared in his palm.

The coin glowed aqua blue, semi-opaque with light swirling beneath its surface. The innkeeper’s brows shot up.

“Well now,” he murmured, leaning closer. “Not many can pull money from thin air. Fancy trick—and a fancy coin for jus’ one nigh’.”

Eric smiled faintly. “It’s what I had. Comes in handy.”

He set the Solyr on the counter.

The man chuckled, turnin’ it over. “If I could do tha’, I’d never close this place.”

“Unfortunately,” Eric said, "I still have to earn mine the old-fashioned way.”

The innkeeper dropped the Solyr into a small lockbox. “You’re a rare sort, lad,” he said, smiling. “May the road keep ya upright.”

At that, Eric waved and headed for the door. The inn’s warmth fell away behind him as he stepped into the morning light.

He paused. Above the rooftops, a vast moon hung in the pale blue sky—but it wasn’t like Earth’s. This one shimmered with shifting hues of green and blue, clouds curling around continents and glittering seas.

He hadn’t even noticed it before.

Huh, he thought. A binary planet system.

Then, higher still, he spotted another—smaller, cratered, and ghostly white, more like the moon he’d grown up seeing.

A binary planet with its own moon, he realized, smiling faintly. “Now that’s something.”

He looked around, gaining his bearings, and finally took in what the town actually looked like.

It was larger than he’d expected—easily a few thousand people, maybe more. Stone walls ringed the settlement, uneven but sturdy, patched where repairs had clearly outpaced planning. The streets beyond were laid in cobble and dirt, weaving between rows of timber-framed buildings with steep shingled roofs. Smoke rose from a dozen chimneys, curling through the morning air, carrying the smell of bread, oil, and metal.

Carts rumbled over the uneven stone, their wheels squealing under weight. Merchants were already shouting prices across the market square, voices competing with the bleating of livestock and the rhythmic clang of a blacksmith’s hammer somewhere near the eastern gate.

It wasn’t refined like the elven cities—no elegant symmetry, no glowing runes tracing every arch. But it was alive, human in every sense: rough edges, loud voices, and a kind of endurance that felt older than order itself.

He started toward the food vendors, his thoughts still drifting upward. The image of that habitable moon lingered in his mind—its oceans and continents too distinct to ignore. Had anyone ever reached it? he wondered. Or even tried?

The market drew him back to the present. A vendor calling out prices had a row of dried meats hanging from a wooden rack, the rich, smoky scent cutting through the morning air.

Jerky—exactly what he wanted.

Eric bought a bundle, along with a few fresh vegetables from a nearby stall, then willed them into his inventory. His errands done, he turned down the street the Valean family had described—the one with the yellow shutters and blue door—and headed that way, the bustle of the market fading behind him.

When he reached the house, Eric started up the short wooden steps toward the door.

Before he could knock, it burst open.

“Eric!” Seren shouted, rushing out onto the porch. She threw her arms around him before he could react, hugging him tightly.

Eric smiled, patting her shoulder gently. “Hi, Seren. I just came by to drop off the supplies I picked up from the wagon. I forgot to give them to your family yesterday.”

Seren stepped back, still smiling, and motioned toward the open doorway.

“We’re just about to eat breakfast—would you join us?” she asked, her voice bright with excitement.

In stark contrast to what Eric had expected after yesterday, the house was filled with light and laughter. The smell of warm bread and spiced roots drifted through the air, and somewhere inside, someone was humming. Yesterday’s devastation felt distant now, replaced by something fragile but alive—normalcy struggling to take root.

Eric smiled. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

From inside, Ronan turned in his chair, surprise flashing across his face before it softened into a grin.

“Eric! We weren’t expecting you to come check on us so soon,” he said, his voice full of good humor. “Couldn’t stay away, huh?”

Eric chuckled as he stepped through the doorway. “Something like that. I realized I never gave you your things. Where do you want them?”

Ronan blinked. “What things? We left everything on the road.”

Eric smiled. “Oh, I grabbed your grain and tools from the wagon before we left.”

Ronan gave him a skeptical look. “And where are they now?”

Eric chuckled. “Where do you want them?”

Ronan shook his head, gesturing toward a corner. “Over there will do.”

Eric walked over and lifted a hand. A shimmer of light rippled through the air as three sacks of grain and a bundle of tools appeared, dropping neatly to the floor with a soft thud.

By then, the whole family had gathered in the room—eyes wide, mouths slightly open.

Ronan finally found his voice. “You’re some kind of mage, aren’t you? Seren said she saw you using magic in that fight, but I didn’t think you were that kind.”

Eric smiled. “My circumstances are… unique. But yes, I’m a mage.”

Ronan shook his head slowly, half-grinning. “Mages usually don’t swing swords, though.”

Eric chuckled. “Yeah. I’m the kind that does.”

Seren practically bounced where she stood. “See? I told you!”

Kaera smiled warmly. “Well, my daughter invited you for breakfast—please, join us.”

She gestured toward the kitchen, where the scent of fresh bread and spiced root tea drifted through the air, warm and earthy.

They moved to the table where breakfast was already laid out, steam curling lazily from the platters. Seren patted the chair beside her, and Eric smiled as he took the seat.

Kaera slipped into the kitchen for a moment and returned with an extra plate and utensils, setting them before him with a quiet smile.

In the center of the table sat a modest spread—fresh bread still warm from the oven, diced roots fried golden with herbs, and thick slices of something that looked like sausage, browned and glistening in the morning light.

For a moment, no one moved. Then Eric realized they were all waiting for him.

He reached out, tore a piece of bread, and filled his plate. Only then did the others follow suit, conversation slowly finding its rhythm between clinking forks and the soft crackle of the hearth.

After a few bites, Seren looked up at him, eyes bright. “Will you stop by often?”

Eric smiled. “I’ll probably be in town once a week,” he said. “I can’t live on elven food alone, it seems.”

Kaera looked up from her plate. “So… you live in the elven city, then? I’ve never heard of them allowing humans to stay there.”

Eric frowned slightly, setting down his fork. “You know, elves aren’t nearly as bad as people make them out to be,” he said. “Sure, I don’t always feel welcome—but they’re not trying to chase me off either. Most of them just… live. They focus on their work, their craft, their routines. They’re not so different from anyone else.”

Ronan chuckled. “I believe that for a mage like you, they’d bend the rules a bit.”

Eric shook his head, smiling faintly. “I was welcomed before they knew I was a mage.” He paused, thinking. “Though… my arrival was less than typical.” His tone softened. “Still, the school there doesn’t care who joins. That alone says something about the city.”

Seren grinned broadly. “I’d love to see the city one day!” she said, eyes bright—then her expression faltered. “But… we’d have to travel there.”

A heartbeat later, the light returned to her face. “Would you take us?”

Eric gave her the softest smile he could, understanding exactly what the thought of travel had stirred in her mind.

“I’d be happy to,” he said gently, then turned his gaze to Ronan. “Speaking of which… what made you leave the settlement in the first place?”

Ronan’s shoulders sagged, and he lowered his head. “We needed to trade our iron for supplies,” he said quietly. “We haven’t had the best of luck this cycle. I was injured, and without the trade, we wouldn’t have made it through until I could work again.”

Eric nodded, no judgment in his tone. “I’m sorry to have brought it up. I understand what it’s like to live on the edge—and still have your family depending on you.”

Ronan gave a short snort. “How could you possibly know what that’s like? You’re barely a man.”

Eric frowned slightly. “That’s… complicated. But I assure you, I’m not as young as I look.”

Kaera raised an eyebrow, curiosity edging her skepticism. “If you’re a day over seventeen, I’d be shocked.”

Eric laughed outright, the sound lightening the air. “I’m sorry,” he said, still grinning. “I’m a few days over fifty-one. Told you—complicated.”

The table went still. Even the sound of the fire seemed to fade.

Seren was the first to find her voice. “Are you… like the elves, then?”

Eric furrowed his brow, considering. “Honestly? I have no idea what I am anymore,” he said quietly. “I ended up on this world because of a magical accident. I don’t even have the same body I once did.” He paused, searching for the right words. “Well—yes and no. It’s definitely my body… just reborn into a younger version of myself.”

Ronan laughed, shaking his head. “You weren’t kidding—complicated. And another world, you say? So how long have you been on our world?”

Eric smiled. “About a month—or one cycle, I guess that’s the proper term.”

Kaera froze, eyes widening as realization struck. She recoiled slightly, her voice trembling between awe and dread.

“You were summoned to this world—by the Fates.” She leaned forward, searching his face. “Tell me you weren’t brought here from a non-magical world.”

Eric rubbed the back of his neck, wincing a little at her reaction.

“Yes,” he admitted. “And I know what you’re thinking—but I’m not going to blow up a continent. I wasn’t treated like him, and I understand why you’d be concerned.”

Ronan’s voice rose, sharp enough to cut through the room. “Kaera! Keith wouldn’t have saved someone!”

Eric flinched at the name, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “He might have,” he said quietly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “If the circumstances had been different.”

Kaera and Ronan both lowered their heads, shame settling over them as if they had been the ones who enslaved Keith.

Eric smiled softly. “Look,” he said, voice calm but steady, “I understand what happened. I’m not here to judge anyone for it. What happened to humans could just as easily have happened to the elves. Everyone was at fault for their hubris back then.”

He glanced between them, his expression gentle. “But that was then. What matters now is how you move forward—how you do better. Guilt’s weighed on humanity for a long time… I can see that.”

Ronan chuckled softly, the heaviness in the room easing just a little.

“I believe you,” he said. “That you’re fifty-one. I can hear it in your wisdom.”

The table went silent for half a heartbeat—then Seren blurted, grinning, “I’d still marry him!”

Realization hit her, and she clapped both hands over her mouth, eyes wide.

Her brother burst out laughing—the first sound he’d made all morning—and the whole table followed a moment later, the tension finally breaking.

Eric laughed along with the others, though he couldn’t help but notice the look on Seren’s face. The poor girl had a savior’s crush on him.

He sighed inwardly, still smiling. He’d have to handle that gently.

“Well,” Eric said, rising from his chair, “it was a pleasure having breakfast with you all—but I need to head out. We’re leaving today, and I have to meet up with my group.”

He stood, and the family followed suit.

Seren sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Do you really have to leave?”

Eric smiled softly at her. “I’m afraid so. You take care, Seren. I’ll come around to check on you now and then. Lyren was right—I suppose I’m part of your lives now, and I’m okay with that. You all seem like good people.”

Ronan extended his hand. “You take care, Eric. You’re always welcome here.”

Eric shook his hand firmly. “Thank you. I’ll look forward to the next time we meet.”

Kaera smiled. “Take care, Eric.”

Taren lowered his head politely. “Thank you again, Mr. Eric.”

Eric grinned. “Anytime, young man.”

Eric left the house and made his way back to the inn, only getting turned around once along the way.

When he stepped inside, he spotted his group gathered around a table, halfway through breakfast. He walked up and eyed the food with a faint grin.

“You guys okay eating that?” he asked. “Humans tend to cook in cast iron.”

Kaelen looked up and smiled. “The innkeeper ordered it for us,” he said. “Said he knew we’d need something special. It’s fine—just not as good as what we’d normally eat.”

Just then, bells began ringing through the settlement. Their sharp, uneven tolls rolled through the streets like ripples of alarm. Shouts followed a heartbeat later—orders, questions, and the hurried clank of armor.

Eric sighed, exasperated. What now?

He summoned his sword from his inventory in a shimmer of light and rushed toward the door. The others followed close behind.

Outside, the settlement was alive with motion.

Guards sprinted toward the walls, buckling armor straps and checking weapons as they ran. Merchants pulled down the canvas over their stalls, securing goods before darting indoors. Children were ushered inside by anxious parents, the low hum of fear building with every passing moment.

The faint scent of oil lamps being doused and shutters slamming shut. The air felt heavier than before, charged with expectation.

Eric stepped forward, scanning the street. “What’s going on?” he murmured.

“Eric, wait for us!” Welyvyne and Kaelen called out in unison.

He turned his head, caught off guard. “What?”

Kaelen shot Welyvyne a look, then fixed on Eric. “Wait for the group.”

Eric smiled faintly, the sound of distant horns echoing beyond the walls. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Kaelen gave him a wary look, hand tightening around his blade. “Good. We move as a group.”