Escaping Ordinary

by Scott Reintgen

  A smiling baker even thrust a croissant into her hand. “On the house, love.”

  At first she thought they recognized her because of what she’d done in Fable. Maybe news of her encounter with Brainstorm Ketty had reached across the whole continent? It took her a few seconds to piece together that this was all a show. The man had called her Miss Deacon, after all. These were characters acting out an assigned scenario. She was getting free treats because she was the mayor’s daughter. Of course.

  “Well, if it isn’t the empress herself.”

  Indira looked up in time to see a young boy edging out of an adjacent alleyway. The sensors in her tutor device swiveled like crosshairs, glowed around the approaching character, and gave a slight ping. A message flashed into her vision:

  Ledge Woods—Low-Level Antagonist

  Indira could have guessed as much. This was clearly one of the bad guys. There was a buried threat in his voice, anger in his open stare. Indira didn’t have to look twice to know he was no friend of hers. The boy wore suspenders, a three-button long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of fine leather gloves. Her gaze lingered longest on the gloves, because they truly were far finer than anything else he was wearing. His boots were threadbare, his pants slightly stained. But the gloves looked pristine, threaded through with strands of gold.

  Ledge noticed her staring at them.

  “Like them?” he asked. “I was finally approved for kingswolf training.”

  He flexed his fingers and a slash of magic cut through the air. Indira watched as the gloves began to transform. Leather became fur; fingernails became claws. The boy took a threatening step forward and lifted one of the razor-sharp talons until it was a few inches from her face. Indira stood her ground without flinching.

  “You know—they say that a kingswolf can smell fear.” Ledge grinned spitefully. “They say kingswolves can smell secrets, too. You wouldn’t happen to have any of those, would you, Empress?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Stop calling me that.”

  There was another slash of magic and Ledge’s hands returned to normal. Just gloves again. It was clear he enjoyed taunting her. Indira was trying to think of something clever to say when Ledge put on a falsely apologetic expression and ducked out of her path.

  “I’m so sorry!” He made his voice loud enough for all to hear. “Of course! You were waiting for me to bow to you before passing. I should have known. Have fun at school, Empress.”

  As the eyes of the other townspeople were drawn their way, Ledge bowed down before her as if she were an actual queen. Embarrassed, Indira hustled past him.

  Her score slowly rose again. Another successful scene. Even though she knew it was just part of the scenario, Indira still hated the helpless feeling in her gut. This was how it always felt to meet one of the antagonists. She remembered the first time she’d felt that way, the painful, sinking sensation as she’d faced off with Peeve Meadows during auditions.

  She also couldn’t help noticing that Ledge’s description had labeled him a “low-level” bad guy. That meant something worse was out there. She couldn’t imagine what would be worse than a jerk with wolf claws, but she needed to prepare herself for that eventual threat.

  Thankfully, the arrows of the tutor device didn’t point her toward more danger. Instead she was led around the corner and right to a familiar face. Indira nearly laughed at the sight.

  “Are you wearing farm clothes?”

  Phoenix flashed a grin. “Traded my wizard robes for them last night. How have your scenes been going so far? Positive score?”

  Indira nodded. “I have a pet chicken, a busy mom, and a potential werewolf enemy.”

  “Ledge?” Phoenix asked. “He was in one of my first scenes too. Kid is a little dramatic.”

  Indira laughed. She remembered that Beginning had said that many of the actors in the town were unfinished characters. She wondered if Ledge, however, was a student at Antagonist Academy. Maybe he was here for practice too. Before she could ask Phoenix, Allen Squalls came jogging around the corner of another building. He shot Phoenix a scolding look that would have made any grandparent proud.

  “Phineas! I told you not to leave without me.”

  Phoenix turned to Indira and rolled his eyes.

  Squalls was almost out of breath. “How am I to…protect you?”

  “Protect him?” Indira blinked. “And did you call him Phineas?”

  “I have a secret identity,” Phoenix whispered. “Apparently, I go by Phineas here.”

  “And I’m his guardian,” Squalls added. “Right now I’m pretty sure that just means I’m going to be eaten by wolves so that he can escape. Or maybe I’ll fall into one of those silos we passed. Drowning by molasses! I read that in a story one time….Seventy-five percent chance of death…it’s like a bad weather report that I can’t escape.”

  Indira could see that Phoenix was trying his best to stay positive. Allen was kind of like his doom-and-gloom companion. She had to remind herself why Squalls was here in the first place. Brainstorm Ketty had targeted him. Whatever confidence he’d had when he’d arrived at Protagonist Preparatory had been shattered by her scheming. This tutorial was his chance to recover. She wanted to do her best to stay encouraging.

  “Remember, it’s all practice,” Indira said. “You’re playing a role. And based on what you did the other day with that storm, I’m pretty sure you’re off to a good start as a guardian.”

  Squalls smiled nervously, looking a little surprised by the compliment. She thought he was going to latch on to that confidence, but a moment later, she heard him muttering.

  “Storms have lightning. And floods…that’s another possibility….”

  Before Indira could answer, a scream sounded from within the schoolhouse.

  Indira and Phoenix locked eyes.

  Together, they sprinted inside.

  Indira led the way, hammer in hand. She followed the only hallway into the only classroom. It wasn’t the nightmare she’d been expecting. Rows of desks led to a stage in the front. Other students had gathered there to watch the spectacle. Their schoolteacher was cowering against the blackboard as three metallic bees—each about the size of an apple—swirled threateningly overhead. It took a second to figure out that the scream had come from him. A familiar student stood apart from the others: Gadget.

  Their crewmate was positioned at the edge of the stage with a remote control in hand. As Indira crossed the room, eyeing the scene, she realized Gadget was actually controlling the robotic insects.

  “Gadget!” the teacher shouted. “This isn’t funny! Please recall them!”

  She nodded. “I’m trying to do that, Mr. Finch, but they keep overriding my control. There must be something…” Her eyes flicked down to their teacher. “Of course! It’s the sweater! Your sweater! It’s too bright, Mr. Finch. They think you’re a flower. All that color must be kicking their pollination mechanism into overdrive.”

  Indira had reached the end of the row. She noticed that Gadget was right. Their professor’s sweater was an aggressively bright shade of yellow. He’d started tugging at the too-tight sleeves, working the fabric overhead, but Indira saw that one of the bees was preparing to strike.

  “Watch out!” she called.

  She shoved Gadget out of the way, tracing the bee’s flight, and brought her hammer forward in an arc. Right as the bee darted down toward the helpless professor, the flat end of her weapon came sweeping across its path. There was a sharp collision of metal against metal and the little bee shattered into hundreds of pieces. Indira planted herself in front of the professor, eyes scanning upward for the next potential threat.

  “Hey!” Gadget shouted. “I was fixing them! It was fine. Why’d you do that?”

  Both of the remaining bees buzzed back down, landing softly on Gadget’s shoulder. She pushed past Indira to get to th
e third, fallen bee. It was making strangled noises, clearly no longer functional. Gadget shot a look back at her. “Seriously? This thing was expensive!”

  Indira gestured back to their teacher, who was still trying to regain his composure. She was surprised when Gadget’s annoyance was echoed in the tutor device. Text appeared in her vision, briefly reading:

  −500 points! Your tutorial has been designed to encourage teamwork and thoughtful engagement with other characters. In the future, focus on solving the problem without immediately resorting to your own abilities.

  The message vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.

  Indira couldn’t help frowning. “But he was in danger….”

  There was a final sputter as the electronic bee died.

  “Great,” Gadget complained. “All of this is useless now. These were supposed to pollinate the whole village. Now I’m going to have to reprogram the entire sequence.”

  Indira glanced back at the teacher, hoping at least she’d have his thanks for taking action.

  “While your heroics are appreciated, Indira, I do think you should stop and think it through next time before taking action.” He gave her a measured look. “You know how valuable these tech resources are in our town. The last thing we can afford is wasted materials.” Mr. Finch let that sink in before rounding on Gadget. “And, Gadget, please make sure you calibrate and test out your devices before bringing them into the classroom. Understood?”

  Gadget had scooped up as many of the pieces of the fallen bee as she could.

  “Understood.”

  Mr. Finch clapped his hands. “Well, let’s take our seats and begin class.”

  Frustrated, Indira took a deep breath and followed the arrows of her tutor device. It led her to a seat near the front right side of the classroom. She couldn’t help feeling even more annoyed. Of course the mayor’s daughter sat at the front of the room. Other students were filing in from the back, eyeing the mess she’d created. There were whispers, too, and Indira could hear words like waste and rich kid, words that echoed what Ledge Woods had implied with her nickname.

  Empress.

  Indira knew it was just the scenario. Nothing personal. She was the mayor’s daughter, so clearly other kids didn’t like her a lot. It made her all the more thankful when Phoenix plunked down in the seat next to her and offered a grin. He whispered, low enough that only she could hear, “Solid form on that hammer strike.”

  She grinned back—her stomach fluttering—as class began.

  It was hard at first to focus on the teacher’s lecture, but Indira remembered that this was how stories worked. All the little details one learned at the beginning would echo through the rest of the plot. This was the Ordinary World. She decided to pay attention closely, because the better she knew how things worked, the more effective her character would be.

  Apparently, a new king had just taken over the throne. He was the third generation of the Howling Kings. Indira listened to the story of how the first ruling family had been the Dragos. Like any good historian, Mr. Finch grew more and more excited as he lectured.

  “Most of you know what happened next,” he was saying. “When the Drago family fell out of power, the first Howling King removed fire from the land. And now fire is only permitted in the most basic cooking. Never more than that. Every member of the Drago family was hunted down. Exiled or worse! And the first of the Howling Kings established his regal order of kingswolves all over the realm.”

  Indira almost jumped when the rest of the class responded in one voice.

  “Fire is forbidden. Dragons are cruel. Long live the king.”

  She shot Phoenix a meaningful look. Now it made sense why he couldn’t use fire. The scenario they were in—and the backstory—clearly forbade it. Indira couldn’t help frowning. How was Phoenix supposed to get in any good training if he couldn’t use his main strength?

  Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash outside the building.

  Mr. Finch shot a look at Gadget. “Is this another one of your devices?”

  She held both hands up innocently. “No! I locked all the bigger stuff away!”

  Raised voices followed. Indira couldn’t resist. Neither could the rest of the class. Mr. Finch forged a path to the back of the room, bravely leading them out to see what the commotion was. Everyone crowded forward, and Indira found her shoulder pressed tight to Phoenix’s. She didn’t mind their shoulders touching, not one bit. Allen Squalls offered a strangled complaint, lost somewhere in the back of the crowd. Outside, the cause of all the commotion was easy enough to locate.

  Indira stared at a huge, horseless carriage. It didn’t quite look like a car, but Indira had the feeling it was motorized in some way. The driver was down on the ground, surrounded by a few townsfolk, nursing a cut on her forehead. Citizens who weren’t helping stood off to the side, and all of them were staring at the reason why the vehicle had crashed.

  In the very middle of the street stood a massive wolf.

  Well, it wasn’t that massive. Indira realized the wolf looked larger than normal because it was standing upright. And it had scales? Or armor of some kind? She squinted. It was hard to tell from this distance. Their class joined the gathered crowd, but it was clear that everyone was being careful to keep their distance from the creature.

  Was this the next step in the journey? Instinct told Indira to protect everyone from the wolf. She wanted to grab her hammer and march forward into the fight. But now the tutor’s message was replaying in her mind. She’d already made the mistake of jumping in and trying to fix things her own way. Brainstorm Underglass had designed this tutorial to force her to work with a team. Which was what she decided to do.

  She took a deep breath and calmly let the scene unfold. It took a few seconds to piece together some of the clues she’d already been given. This wasn’t some random wolf in the streets of town. It was a kingswolf.

  Ledge had sported the same shape-shifting gloves. Indira guessed that—since he was just starting training?—he had a limited amount of magic. The creature standing in the center of the clearing was obviously a full kingswolf. But that didn’t explain why it was here….

  “What’s the meaning of this?”

  A voice cut across all the swirling whispers. Indira felt unexpected pride as her pretend mother strode boldly forward. Her steps didn’t slow. She walked right up to the creature and put both hands on her hips, like she’d had quite enough.

  “Are you lost or something?” she asked.

  The creature’s lips pulled back in a snarl that looked almost like a smile. Indira and the rest of the crowd watched as the wolf transformed. There was a burst of magic that caused Minerva Deacon’s cloak to billow. Blink and gone.

  A man now stood before them, although Indira couldn’t help thinking he still looked like a wolf. His facial features were all narrow and sharp. He had an untamed beard and wild hair that fell down to his shoulders. He circled Minerva like an animal stalking prey through the forest.

  “There was a fire to the north,” he growled. “Up in the hills. Just outside your town’s established boundaries. I’ve investigated the location. Several trees burned down. It wasn’t an accidental cooking fire that got out of control. Someone’s been playing with a dragon.”

  The townspeople gasped, as if the words fire and dragon were dark curses. It took a great deal of effort for Indira to not look at Phoenix. Her neck prickled uncomfortably. She was dead certain that they had been the ones who’d started the fire the kingswolf was talking about.

  Minerva stood her ground. “All of our fire use is legal. We follow the codes.”

  “Is that so?” The kingswolf’s eyes scanned the crowd hungrily. “Then you wouldn’t mind me looking around. Asking questions. In the name of the king, of course.”

  The crowd looked concerned, but Indira’s mother didn�
��t so much as flinch.

  “I’d love for you to inspect our engineer shops. I’d love for you to see the production lines in our factories. I’d love for you to witness the innovations we’ve made to our cooking equipment and the measures we’ve taken to make sure campfires never spread…”

  The kingswolf leaned forward hungrily, expecting permission.

  “…as long as you produce a rite of passage to enter Ordinary.”

  “A ‘rite of passage’?” the kingswolf echoed. “I am not sure what you mean.”

  “Ah. You don’t know the recent laws.” Minerva circled, and now the wolf looked like it was her prey. “It was recently discovered that certain kingswolves were disrupting local economies. Pretending to search for Drago families but feasting on a town’s resources instead. Interrupting the local businesses. That naturally impacts the amount of money the king receives from taxes.”

  The kingswolf started to object, but Minerva pressed on.

  “So while we would love to host you, I’ll need you to return with the correct documentation. Surely you understand. I would not risk upsetting the king because of some faint suspicion from one of his underlings.”

  Indira briefly forgot she was in a scene. It all felt so real. She loved how strong and bold Minerva Deacon’s character acted. And the kingswolf was a really creepy antagonist. She’d been so immersed in the scene, in fact, that she hadn’t noticed the update in her tutor’s graphics.

  In the corner of her vision, the steps of the Hero’s Journey rotated. She watched as the bold highlight moved down the list and settled on the next step. As THE ORDINARY WORLD faded, it was replaced with bold letters that read: THE CALL TO ADVENTURE.

  Indira frowned. How had they reached the next step in the Hero’s Journey while standing still? That didn’t make any sense.

  A growl drew her attention back to the kingswolf. He was grinning at Minerva.

  “Very clever, but I do hope you realize you’ve made a mistake.” He raised his voice now so that the entire crowd could hear. “There’s Drago blood in this town. The fire was our first hint. Your mayor’s decision is the second. One of the dragons is hiding here. Someone with fire in their veins. Don’t worry. I’ll return with a rite of passage, but I won’t come alone next time. I’ll bring other wolves with me. And if the king allows, I’ll bring one of the Stained, too.”