“So, Yoshida, you are aware that stories that put ‘little sister’ in the title are usually going to… take that to the forefront in a romantic context?”

  Seika was looking over an early draft of the first few chapters of ‘The Demon Lord’s Right Hand Woman is my Little Sister Volume 7’. Its author, the ever-tardy Toya Yoshida, sat right across from her. This time they used a meeting room at the office.

  After being abandoned by his old allies for prioritizing saving his little sister over facing the Demon Lord in a final showdown, Rufus, the protagonist now needed to make do with only his little sister Lyselle by his side.

  What Yoshida wrote so far was the typical adventure story after a fall from grace, with the two siblings traveling through the countryside, camping outdoors with only a campfire and their bedrolls for warmth, all while they chase after rumors of a magical artifact that could turn the tide against the demonic horde.

  There was just one problem – at least for the otaku demographic that bought these novels.

  ‘Where’s the romance?’

  ‘We want to see AKITO draw sexy pictures of Lyselle, please write some sexy scenes!’

  And so on went the comments. Yoshida in the meantime seemed to be utterly oblivious to those demands on the light novel market.

  “Well, not in this story. In this story it’s all about how powerful and cool the little sister is! If I had a little sister, I’d let her be the hero in any imaginary battle we have!”

  Yoshida seemed pumped up when he talked about how cool he wanted to make his little sister character. In a way this subversion of expectations was even admirable.

  “At least give AKITO the opportunity to draw some eye candy. Maybe a scene where she has to dress up as a dancer, or one of her taking a bath in the river. There are many natural opportunities for a scene like that.”

  Yoshida let out a ‘hmm’ and ‘aaah’ and stared at the ceiling, mulling over the presented options.

  “I don’t want to just strip her. It has to be something empowering!”

  Besides being eternally tardy, this writer of hers possessed a surprisingly rigid ethical code for his characters.

  He's one of those. His characters are his children. He’d probably faint if he saw the fan art.

  Seika pondered her options, looking at the manuscript again. Then an idea struck her.

  “Hey. She’s still in her demon horde outfit, isn’t she?”

  Yoshida turned towards her with a quizzical look.

  “Hm? Yes, what about it?”

  “If they’re going to travel through human settlements she’ll need a change of clothes. Maybe think of an outfit that keeps her covered but is still sexy. I can give you some fashion and cosplay catalogues for reference.”

  She saw the spark of many, many ideas in Yoshida’s eyes.

  ***

  “By the way, how did you come up with your pen name?”

  Seika yawned and grabbed another energy drink while Yoshida packed his things together to leave.

  “What’s gotten into you, Hitoishi? You’re usually not interested in anything beyond me keeping my deadlines.”

  He shrunk a few centimeters as that comment earned him a glare.

  “I just got curious.”

  Yoshida looked at her with his head cocked to the side before he answered.

  “Well, I like the cold season, so I picked a name with that character, Toya. For my last name I simply picked that of the director of the MMO I’ve been playing recently.”

  “Ah.” Seika replied.

  Please apologize immediately for associating Naoki Yoshida with you.

  Seika clocked out on time again, waving at Watanabe who still sat at his desk. She needed to prepare for her trip and didn’t want to start too late.

  Her train ride home was uneventful, as was the walk to her apartment door. Once she was inside, she transformed.

  Minerva walked up to her mirror and gave herself a look-over. She pondered cutting her hair shorter to make dyeing it a little less annoying. She grabbed a pair of scissors, brought it to her hair and tried to cut.

  A disgusting sound of creaking metal could be heard, and she pulled the utensil back to examine it – it was horrifically bent and its blade even chipped, in an almost comical manner.

  “All parts of my body are hardened for battle.”

  “Great. I guess dyeing will take longer, then.”, she sighed before she entered the bath. She undressed, stopping as she was about to put the gemstone aside.

  “Right. I wanted to try this out.”

  She went back to her living room, putting the gemstone down on her bed. Then she walked multiple steps away. As she was in the hallway, almost at the door, her form appeared to be glitching between her Magical Girl appearance and her regular self.

  “Not a terribly long range…”

  “This i… …limit… …ease co… …ack.”

  Even Minerva’s voice was fading. She quickly stepped back towards the crystal and picked it up, restoring her form to proper stability.

  “I’m going to have to fasten you to my new outfit.”

  With that she went into the bathroom and applied the hair dye.

  She mixed the two-component color together and worked it into her hair, regularly checking the mirror to see if she missed any spots. She wasn’t even sure how effective this treatment would be on hair that produced its own magic glow.

  After she was sure that she got everything colored she let it work for 30 minutes. She spent that time watching an episode of anime in her living room.

  Finally, she added some treatment and after a few more minutes it was time to rinse. After getting all the leftovers out of her hair she took a regular shower as well – who knows how clean this other world would be.

  She stepped out and admired her hair in the mirror. It was black, alright, just like her regular hair.

  She put on her usual Magical Girl outfit’s boots and underwear before grabbing the new outfit that she bought yesterday.

  Before long she was dressed in green, with a little shoulder cape hiding the white blouse almost entirely. She definitely looked like some kind of wandering merchant in a fantasy novel – or maybe a magic novice?

  Her own glowing green eyes were still a standout feature, but she didn’t intend on trying to blend in on her way to the dimensional fault, so she didn’t care to cover them up. If anyone asked her, she was a traveling witch! Maybe that would work.

  ***

  After fastening her crystal brooch to her new outfit, she grabbed the magic box and the envelope containing the keys and written instructions. Opening her door just a crack wide she checked the street outside for activity before she carefully closed the door behind her and locked it.

  She ascended into the sky and pulled out the first note of instructions for her. She was instructed to go west, all the way to Hachiōji. Her destination would be a bar near the Asakawa river.

  “Should have taken the train.”

  “It would have certainly been fun to watch you explain your way out of that.”

  “Simple. I’m a cosplayer on the way to a photoshoot.”

  “And the eyes?”

  “The wonders of LED tech! Shining contact lenses! Probably…”

  “Just fly already.”

  “Fine!” She exclaimed and started her flight west. Grey blocks, patches of greenery and train tracks passed by as she made her way to her destination.

  After a while she saw the Tama river, following its course before she reached the point at which the Asakawa river flowed into it from her left. Following that, she passed through Hino and after a long while she finally reached Hachiōji.

  She landed near one of the bridges connecting the north and south banks of the river. It was barely visible at this time, with the banks being full of greenery. She turned south and walked through the streets, making a turn here and there until she finally stood in front of a bar.

  ‘World’s Boundary’ the sign read in exquisite calligraphy.

  A bit on the nose, isn’t it?

  “If any place can get away with something like this, it would be a bar.”

  Seika fished the envelope out of her pocket and took out the key. It didn’t fit the front door, so she simply entered.

  ***

  The place didn’t look too dissimilar from the bars she knew. Stools at a countertop, tables and chairs, drinks. Everything she knew from bars like Snack Starlight was in here. There wasn’t a whiff of otherworldly activity.

  An elderly man stood at the counter and eyed her suspiciously. His head was covered in grey, half-faded hair that he combed back to save his last remaining grace as a man, paired with a similarly silver moustache. He was wearing a suit that fit him perfectly but was showing its age.

  “We open at eight.” He simply said before he noticed the key in her hand and grumbled.

  “Well, I’ll be.” He pointed further into the bar.

  “Fits the door to the staff toilets. Have a good trip.”

  Minerva blinked and nodded, simply following his instructions as she went to the back of the bar and entered the corridor to the restrooms. She stopped at the door labeled ‘Staff’ and inserted the key, twisting it as if to unlock the door.

  Nothing seemed to happen until she pulled the door open. A white void appeared right in front of her. She blinked and closed it again, trying to ‘lock’ the door. After turning the key and pulling on the door yet again, she was greeted by a simple unisex restroom.

  “Huh.” Was all she managed to say.

  “Quit playing around and get going, unless you want a drink for the trip!” The elderly man shouted.

  Minerva turned the key again and stepped through the door.

  ***

  The white void wasn’t any less unsettling now that she set foot inside it. The door to the bar was still behind her, though as it closed it drifted away and faded into the foggy nothingness. She was alone for now. She didn’t know if she was supposed to wait here or if she should walk to a specific spot to continue her journey. For now, she waited.

  A small bell could be heard in the distance. Its ringing was continuous and grew louder, like it was accompanying someone’s steps. After a short while, Minerva saw an orange glow approach, too. She didn’t have any other options, so she walked towards it.

  Only a few seconds later she stood face to face with the person who approached her. If said person even had a face. It was a very tall humanoid, roughly three meters in size and wearing a brown hooded cloak. The hood was pulled so far over its face that shadow consumed everything underneath, making it impossible for Minerva to make out its facial features.

  It held a lamp in its left hand with very thin, almost skeletal fingers, a red string hanging from the bottom with a single bell attached to it.

  After apparently scanning Minerva’s face for a while it leaned down towards her, extending its right hand carefully.

  “Please present your key, stranger.”

  For being such an unnerving sight, it possessed a surprisingly gentle voice and disposition.

  Minerva saw no reason to refuse the only apparent creature able to navigate this void and handed it her key.

  The giant stood up straight again, holding the key between its thumb and index finger while bringing it in front of its hood.

  “A bridge between ‘Tokyo’ and ‘Romystedt’. Fascinating! This may have been crafted by…”

  The large creature caught itself before it went on a tangent.

  “Apologies. Dimensional keys are all so unique and fascinating.”

  The hooded man leaned towards her once more and handed the key back.

  “Follow me, now. The fog is dense, and without a guide you will be lost.”

  She followed the gentle giant as the sound of his bell accompanied them both. Sometimes doors came into view and faded just as fast, all of different make. Various wooden doors, metal doors, bulkheads, some of these doors even looked futuristic, with a key card reader instead of a keyhole and a hydraulic gate mechanism.

  Finally they arrived at what should be her door. It was a stone arch holding a heavy oaken door. The keyhole was large and inviting.

  “This is where we part, stranger. May we meet again for your way back.” The giant said and bowed to her. Minerva returned the gesture.

  “Thank you for your guidance.” She replied and watched him vanish into the white void.

  “I’m kind of nervous.” She admitted as she looked at the door and got closer with her key. As if it could sense that it was close to its destination, the key changed its shape in her hand, growing as large as the inviting keyhole.

  “No need to be. Whatever is behind this door, we’ll face it together.”

  Reassured, Minerva turned the key and opened the door. She couldn’t see much from here. There was only a cobbled road in front of her, ending in a stone wall.

  “Well, time for our very own isekai.” She announced as she stepped through the door.

  Moon of the Forgotten King, 1067 AR

  ***

  Minerva stepped through the door and made sure to close it behind her with her key. After taking a long, deep breath, she turned around and tried to orient herself. The wall was now to her right, with the cobbled road continuing along it. The left side of the road was lined with half-timbre houses, whose upper floors extended over the road, causing the stones below to lie in twilight. After further inspection, the stone wall was a proper rampart, extending a good seven meters into the sky. Behind her, the road ended, and the rampart connected to the building she just walked out of.

  It was a tower, extending even further into the sky than the rampart itself.

  If no one’s there to chase us away, this might be the best opportunity to get a view of our current location.

  “Careful. Don’t attract attention.”

  She tried the door. Of course it was locked. If it was indeed a tower for the city watch, no one would want civilians to walk inside.

  Checking over her shoulder to make sure no one saw her, Minerva soon ascended – slowly, carefully. As she reached the top of the rampart, she peeked over the edge from side to side. No one appeared to be on this part of the wall, so she pulled herself up and stood up on the rampart to take in the sight of her surroundings.

  ***

  What she saw was a large city, nestled against a single mountain. A wall surrounded the dense collection of houses in an uneven shape. The city walls touched a river and ended there, allowing boats to come and go. The open space was covered by a small fort on the opposite riverbank. Further beyond the river were large fields of wheat and flax, with scattered homesteads in-between. She could make out tiny figures pulling carts on dirt paths spanning between the fields, all converging at the fort, where presumably the harvest was gathered and transported over via boats.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Lording over the entire area, atop the mountain, was a castle. Not the fairytale kind, but made from strong, rectangular shapes. Its walls were covered by a roof instead of being open battlements, the only openings being arrow slits. A large rectangular tower lorded above everything else. From her position she couldn’t tell if it stood individually in the courtyard or was part of the opposite side’s battlements.

  Most of what appeared to be housing was built right atop the mountain’s cliffs, with tall, unclimbable looking walls extending at least ten meters before the building even sprouted a single window.

  It only possessed one gate with a drawbridge, connecting to a paved road that snaked itself all the way down into the city. It fully utilized the steep cliffs surrounding it for defense.

  Whatever area around the city wasn’t used for agriculture was a dense forest, including most of the mountain.

  I can’t believe I’m actually standing in another world like this.

  Minerva was giddy on the inside. At this point she read at least a hundred web novels describing European fantasy towns like this, but to live through it herself was a whole different story altogether.

  “Still, let’s find our contact and fulfill the deal. You can sightsee after.”

  Minerva floated back down to the street and walked from there.

  ***

  After five minutes of walking, she could see signs of the populace. She passed by what looked like a tavern and could hear laughter from inside.

  A hooded man walked out of one of the houses she passed by and went the opposite direction. She encountered more and more people on her way towards the city center, all of them humans like her, it appeared. And then – she let out a gasp. There was a group of three tall humanoids talking to each other, all of them women. They were displaying an unnatural beauty and every one of their movements seemed to be too perfect to be true. Their ears were long and pointy.

  Elves!

  While she looked at them and suppressed a squee, someone bumped into her.

  She could hear an apology, maybe, in an utterly alien language. But it somehow sounded like… German? She turned around to look at whoever just bumped into her and gasped again.

  The man in front of her only reached to barely below her chest. He sprouted a brown beard that almost reached his feet and was braided in a complex, asymmetrical pattern that seemed to tell a story. Contrary to his face, his head was completely bald. He was very obviously a dwarf.

  “Let me try to adjust the translation magic… this entire place is still too unfamiliar.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you.” Minerva said apologetically to the man who scratched his beard.

  “Just said ‘sorry, young lady’. Didn’t look where I was goin’ and didn’t see in time that yer stopped to gawk at the tall pretty ones.” He let out a hearty chuckle while Minerva reacted with a slightly embarrassed grimace.

  “Not from around here, are ye? We rarely get mages visitin’ these days.”

  “How do you know I’m a mage?” Minerva asked with wide eyes.

  “Well, your eyes are a-glowin’, for starters.” The dwarf let out another laugh. “Most of yer types are out there these days, tryin’ to calm the spirits, aren’t ye? What brings yer here?”

  “Oh, I… am supposed to meet someone here and give something to them.”

  “Hmm, then you probably wouldn’t have met ‘em where you were just comin’ from.” The dwarf pointed down the cobbled road.

  “Nothin’ there but storage for the army types.”

  “Storage?”

  “Yeah. Good thing about them wooden ones: you can fold ‘em up nice and tight when yer don’t need ‘em anymore and put ‘em in boxes. All of them houses up there? Woodman storage.”

  “Right. Woodmen. Got it.” Minerva nodded.

  “Anyway, I’ve got errands of me own to run. Ye have a nice stay, now!”

  With that the dwarf offered her a backhanded wave as he walked away.

  Minerva kept walking. The sightings of elves and dwarves became more frequent. Some people looked her way when they noticed her eyes and offered her curt nods, but other than that she seemed to blend in well enough. She ended up on what she assumed to be the town square – it was a large, open area, or it would be open if all the temporary stalls weren’t opened all around. Peddlers were loudly announcing what they sold, and merchants did the same from their stalls for anyone who passed by. The smell of fresh meat, fish and other products filled Minerva’s nostrils. Some stalls even offered spices – she didn’t know the value of the currency of this world, but she could see that the prices of the spices were quite a bit higher than those of the other wares. She kept to the edges of the town square and took in the sights.

  Only now she thought to check the contents of her envelope.

  She pulled a sheet of paper from it and unfolded it, reading the next set of instructions.

  ‘Your contact is the lady of the big castle.’

  Simple enough instructions. That castle was hard to miss, after all. Even from the town square she could see the large tower poking out from behind the trees that covered the mountain.

  If her eyes didn’t betray her, the mountain path leading all the way up to the castle was right on the other side of the marketplace. She made her way through, walking past stalls that sold jewelry, mostly made from colorful stones and copper, rather than gemstones and gold or silver, as she was used to from her world. She suddenly became rather self-conscious; that gemstone she wore on her outfit must have made her look like a rich person in the eyes of the locals.

  She let her eyes wander around, trying to discern if anyone was giving her dirty looks due to the perceived difference in status, but no one seemed to mind her in particular.

  “Calm down. If they already think you’re a mage, they might expect you to look a bit… regal, maybe.”

  Further stalls ahead she saw fresh produce. There were fruits and vegetables she hadn’t ever seen before. An unknown fruit that looked like a purple grape the size of a pumpkin was displayed at one stall, but as the owner of the stall cut it open to hand slices over to a customer, the insides looked more like a pomegranate, with clusters of purple, fleshy looking bits. The sight was unusual and a little off-putting at first, but the smell that wafted over a little later was sweet and appetizing.

  In another stall, there were cages stacked on top of each other. At first Minerva thought that the animals inside must be chickens, but upon further inspection they turned out to be antlered lizard… bird… things.

  They stood on two feet shaped like those of ducks, or geese, made odd honking sounds and their plump bodies were scaled instead of feathered.

  Their wings were little stumps, useless for flight. The long neck that extended from their bodies ended in a duck-like head with a way too long beak.

  The only thing that resembled a chicken in this situation was how they were slaughtered to be handed to customers. Their long necks were pulled taut and with a swift strike separated.

  Minerva pressed ahead with that odd image still fresh in her mind.

  ***

  She came to a halt in the center of the square. Weavers were working their looms at their stalls even as they hawked their wares: rich tapestries, rugs and clothing. Minerva’s attention, however, was focused entirely on the statue in the middle of the plaza.

  It was a young woman – beautiful to look at, with shoulder-length hair. Her pose suggested that she was singing, and by some kind of mechanism, magical or maybe even clockwork, a beautiful singing voice was projected out of the statue’s open mouth.

  Minerva could feel a sense of sadness hanging over the statue itself, like it wasn’t here to celebrate this person as the greatest singer of her time, but for a much more tragic reason. And for some reason she seemed familiar.

  “Admiring the statue, madame mage?”

  Minerva blinked and turned her head towards the voice, looking at a young woman who stood beside her. She was dressed in little more than a linen tunic with sandals. Her crimson irises were fixed on the statue, and her hair was a pretty shade of silver, though its shine was a bit dulled by dirt as she obviously worked in one of the weavers’ stalls since morning.

  “I was wondering what the story behind it might be. It feels sad, somehow.”

  The girl giggled in response.

  “A learned mage visiting Romystedt who doesn’t know about Romy?”

  Minerva blushed and cleared her throat.

  “I just arrived from far away, forgive me my lack of learning.”

  Her mind was churning. She knew that name from somewhere, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  The girl with the silver hair smiled and pointed at the singing statue.

  “Romy was a singer with such a beautiful voice that it’s impossible to recreate it with magic or even the most advanced orchestrion. She was so beloved by the lady who founded this city that this statue is the best effort to honor her legacy – aside from the name itself.”

  Minerva nodded along to the explanation.

  “What about the sadness? Did something happen to her?”

  The girl seemed a bit uneasy.

  “That’s a story you should hear from someone else."

  “Holda! Get back to work!” a stern voice came from one of the stalls.

  “Coming, mistress!” the girl replied, looking at Minerva again.

  “I hope you enjoy your stay, madame mage. It was nice talking to someone from elsewhere.” She bowed and hurried back to one of the stalls. A plump older woman reprimanded her for taking so long to get back.

  She’s a nice girl. I hope I didn’t get her into too much trouble.

  “Check your pockets, just in case.”

  Ever the cynic, aren’t you?

  She checked her pockets just to satisfy her crystalline companion, finding them in the state she left them in, then she made her way towards the mountain path. She passed by a few more stalls – one of them selling magic books and the enchanted ink necessary to write them in the first place. She would have been half tempted to shop there, if not for the fact that the only thing resembling currency she possessed was a box full of wood.

  As she reached the edge of the market square she could see the place where the mountain road connected to the city proper – and immediately hid behind one of the stalls as she realized what she was seeing.

  Why are they here?!

  Access to the mountain road was barred by a large gate, currently closed, with rows of houses forming a natural wall against intrusion.

  The two men standing guard held halberds and wore chest plates over their doublets with large, poofy slashed sleeves and fitted pants, with big feather-adorned baretts on their heads.

  Said heads however were absolutely featureless. Where they should have a face was only a smooth wooden surface.

  Purple strings were attached to every one of their limbs and vanished into the sky, moving the marionettes with careful deliberation and enough mastery that they truly looked like they were alive and bored standing guard.

  “Oh, madame mage. We meet again.” Holda passed her by, delivering a stack of linen dresses to another stall.

  “Why are you hiding?”

  Minerva looked to her, then back to the marionettes on guard.

  “Those things… why are they here?” Minerva managed to ask.

  “You are being silly, madame mage. Those are the wooden men, the city’s best defense. They are the long arm of our benefactor, the ruler of this city: Madame Bille.”

  “What are you doing, madame mage?”

  Minerva grabbed the girl without thinking and pulled her out of sight as she kept peeking around the corner towards the marionettes.

  I thought this was just another world where they have magic and artifacts, maybe it would be the home world of a Magical Girl patron, but this…

  “Calm down and think, Seika.”

  The master of puppets, the one who pulls all the strings, the woman who is obsessed with delivering a great performance. At least those are the things she heard about her over the course of sixteen years.

  Minerva fought her so many times that she almost felt like an old friend, despite the two never meeting in person.

  I’m calm… what should I think about?

  “Do you really think the Celestial Sisters would set you up against her?”

  They do whatever is necessary to stay on top, so I wouldn’t put it past them. If they see me as a problem somehow, or Madame Bille offered them something for luring me towards her...

  “Think again. Look at what you’re holding in your hand, Seika.”

  She blinked and looked at the small chest she was holding.

  That’s right. Tons of wood were inside. The chest itself was probably a treasured artifact as well, working as a bottomless bag. This was way too elaborate and specific to be the pretext for a trap.

  “Madame mage, you’re hurting me.”

  Holda complained quietly without trying to pull away as Minerva’s hand tightened around her wrist.

  “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry, Holda.” She let go of the weaver’s wrist.

  The girl sighed and looked towards the gate.

  “Do you have trouble with the wooden men? Did you commit a crime?”

  “I… may have fought some of them before in a faraway conflict. I don’t know if they hold a grudge.” Minerva came up with a half-truth on the fly.

  The girl pondered her words.

  “Well, things happen out there, I heard mercenaries often end up working for three cities that are all at war with each other, but no one thinks ill of them.” The girl gave Minerva a reassuring smile.

  “You want to go to the castle, yes? I will guide you, if you’d like. Without being seen by the wooden men.”

  ***

  Minerva followed Holda, who gestured for her to stop at a house. The young woman went inside and came back with only a lamp.

  “It is almost time for the sun to go down, madame mage. We will be able to see, but many things lurk in the shade, so we should light a mana lamp.”

  She held the lamp towards Minerva with a little grin. It was a simple little lantern appearance-wise, in a protective case made of multiple little windows and an iron frame. One of the windows opened on a hinge.

  “It is fortuitous that you are here. Would you mind channeling a little magic into it to ignite the flame?”

  “You can call me Minerva, by the way”, she replied as she looked at the lamp.

  “So I should light it with fire magic?”

  The girl cocked her head – Minerva just carelessly revealed herself to be clueless about another thing that mages should know, it seemed.

  “No, madame Minerva. Just raw magic essence will suffice.” Her little smile was unwavering despite the clueless mage in front of her.

  “Fine. Raw magic.”

  Minerva held out her hand – she never really did ‘raw’ magic before. What did that feel like? Maybe like her magic beams?

  It did however come quite naturally to her. She passed the magic energies her body generated by merely existing into the lamp – and before long a flame flickered to life. Red at first, then orange, yellow – turning into green, teal, blue and going through all the colors of the rainbow in sequence.

  “You have very pure mana, madame Minerva. I’ve never seen such a perfect rainbow flame!” The girl looked at her lamp with wide eyes.

  “Haha, well, people told me I’m an anomaly before.”

  “I would have picked more flattering words than that!” Holda insisted.

  “So, you said you can bring me to the castle without encountering the mario- the wooden men?”

  “I can! Follow me!”

  Holda once more walked ahead with Minerva in tow.

  “Won’t you get in trouble for skipping work?”

  Minerva asked the girl as they passed through the streets. She could see the castle on the mountain slowly rotate, the cobbled path leaving her field of view and hiding behind the mountain. The two of them were walking along the inner ‘wall’ of the city for almost half an hour now, though it was just an uninterrupted row of houses that made it impossible to head for the mountain.

  “Oh, that was my last delivery for the day madame ma- Minerva.”

  “Just Minerva is quite alright.”

  “Oh no, madame Minerva. You spent so much time to become the mighty mage you are, we all owe it to you to show at least some respect.” The young girl seemed flustered by the idea of addressing Minerva by only her name.

  It's nothing that special. I had help. She wanted to say but held her tongue. She didn’t know the cultural significance of learning magecraft in this world, so downplaying the effort involved could bring down suspicion on her.

  “Best to play along for the time being”, the true Minerva agreed.

  After some more walking they stopped in front of a house that appeared partially collapsed.

  “This is our way through. Please watch where you step, madame Minerva.”

  Together they climbed through rubble and needed to crawl to pass through what was once a living room. She could see a hole in the wall leading towards the mountain and it was soon clear that this was Holda’s secret way through.

  Minerva had to squeeze a little bit while the young Holda slipped through without issue.

  Once on the other side she could see the vast forest on the mountainside quite clearly. It looked dark in a very disinviting way.

  “What kind of things are out there that we need the lamp for?” Minerva asked, soliciting another odd look from the girl.

  “…you know… they are kind of different from location to location.” she quickly added.

  Holda led the way and the two of them waded through tall grass on the way into the undergrowth. It got so bad that Minerva stepped ahead of Holda and summoned her cane sword to her side to hack the foliage out of the way, allowing them to pass.

  “Let me think, madame Minerva… here in the forest, there are the Schrat and the F?nggen. The former will play tricks on miners and lumberjacks, the latter are known as man-eaters, but they should leave us alone at least. I am not a child and haven’t carried any children to term myself yet, so they should be disinterested. How about you, madame Minerva?”

  “Uhm, no children, no. I don’t even have a…”

  She didn’t quite realize it herself until a few moments in, but she was fidgeting nervously in an embarrassed manner. Who knew why that made her more nervous than the forest being filled with man-eaters?

  “No lover?” the young girl gave her a little smile.

  “You’re such a beautiful woman, though. I’m certain you’d have people lining up for your affection.” The darkness of the forest was slowly surrounding the two of them as Holda led them deeper. Minerva could now feel eyes on them from the darkness, and as she turned her head, she felt like some of the trees grew eyes that followed them. She kept close to Holda and her magic lantern, just in case.

  “There’s someone, but it’s complicated.”

  “A woman?”

  “How did you-?”

  “It’s a very simple guess between a few options, madame Minerva. And besides, you carry yourself with a certain disposition.”

  Can everyone just tell by looking at me?

  They reached a ravine and Holda pointed inside. “There’s a secret stairway that leads to the end of the mountain road. We just have to pass by the lord of the mountain.”

  “The lord of the mountain?” Minerva asked in an exasperated voice. It felt like she came in contact with way too many fantastic concepts at once today.

  “Quite so. He has another name, but I won’t utter it with him being so close. He is a gentle soul and won’t harm good people but say his nickname in his presence and he will demand bloody retribution.”

  The two of them kept walking through the ravine, with the rainbow flame of their magic lantern being a weak comfort in the twilight.

  “We are almost there. Pay your respects, madame Minerva.”

  “Huh? To whom? Oh! Oh dear…”

  Holda was bowing in front of her – and now she could see to whom. There were two eyes in the rocky wall, each of them as large as a person. They showed the travelers a weary look. As Minerva watched closer, she could see that the rocky wall formed a forehead, and the grassy patches above lined up with a scalp. Between the two rocky eyes there was a boulder forming the bridge of a nose. The giant was buried entirely with only the top of his head poking out, forming one of the ravine’s cliffs.

  Minerva swallowed heavily before she bowed her own head.

  “G-greetings, lord of the mountain.” She managed to say.

  The two large eyes blinked – slowly, then the eyes moved and looked in the direction the two were going. And Holda wasn’t lying, there were stairs, though that descriptor may have given Minerva a somewhat too modern idea of what it would be like. Thin tree trunks were put horizontally into the ground in an ascending manner to fortify a natural path, hacked a little smoother with imprecise axe strikes. There was no railing and at certain parts the path looked terribly narrow.

  Maybe I can just fly from here.

  She relaxed her body as she usually did to fly. But all she managed was to ruin her posture, still standing rooted to the ground.

  “Huh? Why?!”

  “Oh dear, madame Minerva. You can’t fly around the castle. If a castle didn’t put up wards against flying, that would defeat the entire purpose of walls and battlements, wouldn’t it?”

  The young weaver’s smile was most certainly mocking her.

  “Now let us keep going, we shouldn’t bother the lord too long.”

  ***

  “You seem to know a lot about the local spirits and this path, for being a weaver.” Minerva observed.

  “And you, madame Minerva, know painfully little for being a mage.”

  The little jab made the pretend mage cringe, but she relaxed as the girl let out a little laugh.

  “A relative works at the castle and has shown me the secret paths as well as how to keep myself safe, so I can visit him. The Madame is apparently aware and has never said anything to us.”

  “She seems generous, then. What’s she like? Does she visit the town at all?”

  Keeping idle conversation was a good way to keep her mind off the steep cliff only a few centimeters to her right as the two ascended the primitive stairs up the mountain. She could see the town from here – rainbow-colored streetlamps illuminated the cobbled streets spanning between the houses, presumably keeping the spirits and other dangers away as night broke. Their own lantern must have been visible from town as well, but maybe that was a common enough sight to not cause wooden men to run after them.

  “Not in an official manner. People in town whisper that when she visits, she’s always dressed as someone else so she can interact with the regular people. She may come as a beggar, as a merchant, a crone – she is even able to disguise herself as a child.”

  Holda looked over her shoulder with a ponderous expression.

  “I think she was a mage, too, once. And she always comes with a plea for a kind soul to help her with one problem or another – to reward those subjects who are pure of heart and help her.”

  Minerva raised a brow.

  “I can assure you: I am not Madame Bille.”

  “Hmm…” the girl dragged that sound a little before she shrugged and simply kept leading Minerva up the mountain. After a while they could leave the staircase and made their way through the woods again, two hundred meters higher than before.

  ***

  “Not much further now, madame Minerva!”

  With those words the two of them emerged from the undergrowth and found themselves on a cobbled road. This was the intended path for visitors who weren’t sneaking around at night.

  “Aren’t we going to sneak into the castle, too? This feels a bit too open.”

  Holda chuckled and shook her head.

  “Oh no, madame Minerva. You’ve been invited, haven’t you? The front gate will do just fine.”

  Minerva blinked and followed the young weaver with a very confused look on her face.

  “In fact, I don’t believe you would have needed to avoid the wooden men at the gate at all.” Holda laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

  “Then why didn’t you say so and took me through the forest?”

  Minerva looked at the younger woman in disbelief, cocking her head to the side.

  “It seemed fun. I always wanted to talk to a visitor. And a longer trip like this proved to be a good opportunity, wouldn’t you agree? Besides, you got to learn about the spirits and sprites that lurk in the dark.”

  The smile on the girl’s face was radiant – she meant it, as far as Minerva could tell, causing her to let out a long sigh.

  “Well, I’m glad that it was amusing for you. Thank you, either way.”

  They arrived at their destination. A large gate held a raised drawbridge across from a ten-meter-deep ravine, denying access. There was a wooden soldier standing guard at the chasm, walking towards them with exaggerated, floaty movements, halberd at the ready after he noticed their approach. Purple, magically glowing strings were attached to its limbs and head, extending two meters into the sky before fading out of view.

  “Who goes there? Oh. Holda, it’s you. What are you doing up here? And so late?”

  The voice sounded like it came from a tin can telephone, like someone saw through this creation’s eyes and spoke remotely.

  “I bring an esteemed visitor for the Madame. The Magical Girl from another world who she expects today, I believe.”

  Minerva’s jaw dropped at this revelation. Holda turned around towards her and gave her a wink accompanied by a sweet smile as the drawbridge’s chains noisily extended from their winches, lowering the heavy wooden construction to allow passage.

  The young weaver started walking down the cobbled mountain path, back towards the city.

  “It was fun, madame Minerva. I hope we get to talk again!” she said in good-bye.