< Prologue

Lost in the middle of nowhere, under the glow of two moons, I stood up out of the giant pile of ashes. When the burnt powdery residue slid off my body, I realized, I was completely naked. Frantically, I started digging through the ashes to find my clothes. After a few moments, I was able to pull out the black combat boots I wore for my D&D costume with ash-filled socks inside them, my pants that were more decorative than practical with my underwear still inside them, also soot-filled, and the charred remains of what used to be my shirt. I was also able to find the twin Japanese wakizashi blades and sheaths I would tie to my waist using a long leather strap.

Once I put everything back on, I looked out in every direction. I had no idea which way to go. I wouldn’t even know which direction was which until the sun came up. I wouldn’t be able to discern which way was north. Then again, would there also be two suns? Would they even rise from the same direction? Maybe there wouldn’t be a sun at all. Foolish, I thought to myself. There had to be a sun. The moon doesn’t produce its own light. It’s sort of like a mirror, it simply reflects the light of the sun. 

I decided the best course of action, for the time being, would be to try and get some sleep. I could decide which direction to strike out in once the sun was out. I briefly searched the area for a good place to lay my head. Somewhere partially hidden from any potential predators yet easy enough to escape from if I should need to. I found a bush next to a tree, and I hunkered down between the two and closed my eyes. 

I don’t know how long I was sleeping but I was suddenly startled awake by the sound of a twig snapping nearby. I did not dare move. There was no way I would risk attracting whatever was nearby in case they hadn’t noticed me yet. What I didn’t know…  is that it had already noticed me. 

A piercing scream shrieked through the air, about 20 feet from me, quickly getting closer and closer. I barely got to a sitting position when I spotted the tiny frightful creature charging toward me holding a spear aimed right at my chest. Instinctively, I moved my body just enough for the sharp edge to graze my shoulder. I winced in pain as I tried to back away. The snarling beast lunged at me a second time, though this time I was able to grab the spear and kick the creature square in the chest with my massive boot. Its little head snapped back against the trunk of the tree before it fell lifeless to the ground. A pool of blood formed around its head. I kicked the thing over, not only to make sure it was dead, though, I was pretty certain it was by the sheer amount of blood, but also to be able to get a better look at the critter. What the heck was this thing?

I studied its features closely but my only conclusion was completely impossible. How can it be that such a thing could actually exist? It couldn’t. But the evidence lay right there before me. The thing was about three feet tall and weighed maybe forty-five pounds or so with yellow-greenish skin. It had a flat face, a broad nose, pointed ears, small sharp fangs, and beady little yellow eyes. There was no mistaking it, this was a goblin.

I decided not to waste any more time with the complexities of how impossible this should be. If there was anything I knew about goblins is that they always travelled in packs. There was no time to linger. I had to get away. But it was already too late. I was surrounded by four more of the foul creatures, each of them ready to strike, spears ready for the kill. There was nowhere to run.

Though I had never used them for anything other than decoration, I pulled out my twin wakizashi blades, as they began to charge toward me. I found it odd that my fear had subsided. I didn’t know if it was due to the fact that I gained some confidence after defeating one of them already, or because I knew from my knowledge of the D&D Monster Manual that they were pretty weak on the creature scale, or because I had experienced death once already and was in no hurry to experience it again. Either way, it was either me or them, and I certainly wasn’t going down without a fight.

The battle was clumsy but I managed to strike down two of them before falling to the ground as the other two converged on me. One jumped at me trying to drive its spear into my heart. I was barely able to counter the spear with one blade, as the creature fell on top of the other. The last one quickly followed suit but there was no way for me to stop him thanks to the precarious position I suddenly found myself in, when it suddenly toppled over on top of me as well, dead, with an arrow in its back.

I pushed the bodies off of me and stood up, readying myself for whoever shot the arrow. I stood there with only one full blade now, while the other, broken under the weight of the goblin, was now the size of a dagger. A short humanoid figure stepped out of the darkness, standing almost five and a half feet tall. Under the glow of the two moons, I was able to discern that it had coppery skin, jade-coloured eyes and black hair. His ears were twice as long as a human’s and pointed at the end. I knew instantly this was a wood elf. 

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Having played an elf in almost every campaign I was a part of, I was very excited to see one standing before me. And to my luck, of all the subraces, it was a wood elf. While this particular subrace was primarily reclusive and introverted, keeping to themselves and their woodland settlements, they were the more open-minded, compassionate and accepting of all the subraces of elves. Unlike your typical elves who were slightly xenophobic with a bit of a superiority complex, wood elves had little care for politics or military strength, keeping a calm and level-headed life. They would, however, often come off as gruff or disinterested, if you didn’t know any better. Luckily I did know better, and would certainly not take offence to how he might respond or react.

He took another step toward me, eyeing me curiously as he began to speak. While the Elven language in D&D was far more incomplete than Tolkien’s Elvish, I spent quite a lot of time formulating new words and greater sentences based on the alphabet, the words and sentences provided in every D&D book and online resource that was available to me. While the fluidity of his words was far more eloquent and majestic than the clumsy tangle of words I provided in exchange, likely sounding no more intelligent than a caveman, I was able to piece together what it was he had spoken. “How curious to find a lone human so deep into the forest.”

I smiled at the thought that this would be my very first Elven conversation. Slowly, I began to respond, doing my best to pronounce every syllable with accuracy, “No more curious than I face to face with a sylvan elf.” While I hoped my words reflected what I meant to say, his eyes widened in wonder. “I am not native from your world. I am human outsider who was, how I say… transported to the middle of forest. Where am from, there is one moon up in sky. Lost. Alone. No shirt,” I chuckled.

“I am in awe that you are able to speak our tongue. Though, not very well,” he added with a chuckle of his own. “Regardless, it is still discernible. I have not yet decided if I believe your wild tale, as unlikely as it sounds. I will however allow you the opportunity to convince me as we head back to my camp. You have certainly been found lacking. I will let the elder decide your fate when we arrive.” 

“Many thanks,” I replied. “Noble of you”. I realize I could have given him any name at that moment—my character’s name, from my D&D campaign, for example. But before I knew it, I had already introduced myself with my real name. After box office records were shattered by Avengers: Endgame, names like Tony, Steve, Natasha, Wanda and Peter became extremely popular once again, and even names like Parker, Thanos, Drax, Pepper and Mantis were commonly used. You couldn’t go very far without meeting more than a few people named Hawkeye, Cap, Falcon or even Marvel. And as common as all of these names were, mine was equally unremarkable... “My name is Jarvis Devlin.”

“Well met, Jarvis,” he said with a modest nod. “I am Tahllassar Drenaless.”

We began the long journey back to his village as I recounted the tale of how I arrived in his world. The more I spoke, and the more he corrected me, the more I seemed to become comfortable with the elven language. The dawn of a single sun broke through the darkness, lighting the magnificence of the surrounding forest. I found myself getting hungry hours before he did, though he was kind enough to provide me with some of his nuts and berries as we walked. It felt as though we had been walking for a day and a half before making camp for dinner. Luckily he was skilled with his bow and was able to hunt down some meat for us to eat. While we enjoyed the cooked fowl and vegetation, he explained to me how there were thirty-two hours in a day, unlike the usual twenty-four I was accustomed to. This was especially interesting as it was the exact amount of hours I had implemented in my own fantasy world. I always felt there weren’t enough hours in a day and was more than just a little excited at the prospect of being awake for far longer than usual and still being able to sleep for ten hours or so. He found our shortened days equally fascinating. Though on this day, I was certainly tired from the long hike. My feet were definitely thankful for my combat boots, though my costume pants were starting to cause some chafing in my inner thighs. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep. 

Tahllassar woke me up at first light only to find out he had already been awake for several hours. It was then that I remembered that elves did not sleep but instead meditated for three to four hours instead, which he also confirmed. Breakfast was already prepared and everything was packed up and ready to go. Once I completed my meal, we started our trek once more. 

This time it was his turn to tell me about himself. He had been hunting the goblins as they had been terrorizing some of his villagers. They were the last of the hoard. On top of being experienced with a short bow,  Tahllassar was a master two-weapon fighter, equipped with a long sword and a short sword. He took the time to teach me about being a ranger, how to track, how to tell the difference between edible and poisonous berries. It was interesting to put some of my Dungeon Master knowledge to practical use. 

By the time dinner came around, we arrived at his village. I felt everyone’s eyes on me as we made our way through the woodland hamlet to see the village elder. I’m not sure how long we sat together as I explained to him everything about me, my life and where I was from until he was thoroughly satisfied that what I was telling him was indeed the truth. He decided that Tahllassar would be responsible for me while I remained in their settlement and escort me to the capital city after a few weeks, once the hottest month of the year had passed. When he called it the month of Firemoot, I was taken aback, and even more so when I accurately guessed it was but one of two months with only ten days. The months were exactly how I had created them in my… yup, you guessed it, in my D&D campaign. But it wasn’t until he told me that the capital city was called Pandoria that I nearly lost it. 

I walked back out into the wilderness feeling… well, honestly, I can’t even describe the feeling that came over me at that moment. This was absolutely surreal. Insane even. There were far too many coincidences. Everything that I had ever created in my fantasy game, seemed to exist and live in this world. This couldn’t be real. This had to be a complete fabrication of my own mind. 

“You do not look so well, Jarvis,” Tahllassar said as he approached me. “Are you alright?”

I didn’t even look at him as I walked past him as if in a zombified daze. “I have just come to the realization that I am currently in a coma. I am lying in a hospital bed, in a comatose state.”

“Hass-peh-tahl,” he repeated, confused at the word. 

“Not real!” I blurted out. “My imagination. Complete fiction. All in my head. I was lightning strike and now in a coma, dreaming. NOT REAL!”

My face stung as I realized I was just on the receiving end of a slap. “How real did that feel?” He asked indignantly at the notion that he was not real.

I decided not to dive into the intricacies of my own sensory receptors reacting to my perception of this false reality created by my dreaming mind. Not that I would have any real scientific knowledge for what I would try to explain. I was no doctor-scientist. My knowledge was of Dungeons & Dragons and a silly fantasy world that I had created, not neurobiology. What could I even do? Find some sort of imaginary secret exit from this comatose reality? To play along until I, hopefully, one day woke up, before they decided to unplug me? Did anything I say or do now even matter? There was no way to know for sure. I couldn’t prove it nor deny any of it. One thing was certain, however, regardless of whether this world was real or a complete falsehood, I was trapped here.

Continue reading on Simily, with Chapter 2 -A Light In The Darkness->