The Girl Who Befriended The End

I became aware of a voice.

“Hey, uh, hello? Are you dead? I didn’t think that was possible, but I’ve seen enough in my sixty-odd years for ‘impossible’ to become a meaningless term…” The voice came from above, and it drawled in a thick southern accent with the charming crackle of an old woman who constantly sounds about two seconds from offering you a slice of homemade pie.

I then became aware of several other very important things. One, I was no longer in Pittsburgh. The hot sunlight shining through my closed eyelids immediately disqualified that as an option. Two, I was lying on my back in warm… moss? The scent of hay and old paper was thick around me. Three, I was stark naked.

Wait, what? My eyes flew open and I fought the painfully bright light that made me want to close them again.

“Not dead! Good, I’d have to take it up with my good friend Baha if that’d been the case.” The voice sounded quite pleased, and the figure it emitted from seemed to be addressing the sky. I sat bolt upright and flung my arms across myself to cover up as best I could.

There was a woman standing over me, short, chubby, and… furry? I blinked again. No, that was definitely a tawny cat face peering down at me, and those were definitely paws curled around a small wooden cane.

“Wh- what?” I said unthinkingly. A thousand questions were all fighting to come out and for the moment I was struggling to speak at all. The figure cocked its head in a slight frown, and its whiskers twitched.

“Oh, dear. Not the brightest, are you? My name is Tally Expressa, but just Tally will do. And if you are the sort to address elders only by their surnames, don’t go about calling me ‘missus’. I’m unmarried. What are you called, darling?”

Not the brightest? Unbelievable. I sat up straighter, keeping my arms wrapped tight around me, and looked around. We were in a large green field that seemed to be made of soft moss interspersed with ferns. It undulated in gentle waves all the way to the horizon. The sun shone brightly overhead in a cloudless sky. Probably safe, for now.

“My name is Amara,” I replied instinctually, trying to appease her. And if giving her my name was a bad idea, then I would have to work it out later. “Where am I? And what happened to my clothes?”

The book.

“Wait, where’s the book?” I asked hastily, reaching out into the moss to see if I could feel it anywhere. Then I snapped my arm back to its previous position, suddenly panicked and embarrassed.

Tally leaned forward over me, looking concerned. And that alone gave me whiplash, because generally when old southern women were looking at me they did so with barely concealed looks of disdain.

“Oh, honey. Let me see what I can get ya,” she said soothingly. She pulled a large leather sack off of her shoulders and started rummaging around in it.

I numbly received the roughly woven yellow peasant shirt and brown woolen trousers she handed me.

“Here. We’re about the same size but you’re a good bit taller than me, so they might not fit quite right. Still, better than nothing,” she told me, tossing some sort of undergarment into my arms. It looked a little like the illustrations of chemises I’d seen in class, but there was a stiff material in the underbust area and large pockets sewn into the sides.

I pulled on the clothes and immediately felt better. The chemise was a bit loose in the chest but strained over my shoulders, the shirt hiked up when I raised my arms, and the pants were ridiculously short, but at least I was dressed.

“Thank you,” I said. “So, where am I?”

The last thing I remembered was standing on a rain-sodden sidewalk with the book in my hands. Neither the sidewalk nor the book were anywhere in sight.

Tally fished a huge burlap map out of her bag and pored over it. I tried to get a peek as subtly as I could. It was covered in crisp black lines drawn in a steady hand. She peered at it for a moment before responding.

“Hmm. Right now we’re in the moss fields directly north of the Winspeak mountains. The nearest village is about five miles east. At least, that’s what my map says. But then again, the last time I traversed this area was thirty years ago, so my notes may no longer be accurate. Where are you from, dear?” She didn’t look up from her map.

I thought about how to answer and came to no satisfactory conclusion before I had to reply. “Um, Hazelwood?” It came out sounding rather timid.

Tally stared at me blankly. Well, might as well take advantage of the whole ‘lost scared girl’ archetype.

“You know, Whiz Khalifa and stuff?” I prompted.

“I know about the Hazel Bog two kingdoms over,” Tally said. Her gaze was suddenly very piercing, and her soft brown eyes glinted with an entirely new color. “I’m assuming that’s not what you meant, however. You’re not from around here, are you?”

I stared back, mind racing. “No, not quite.”

How do cats express joy? It’s typically not an expression that crosses their little furry faces. And yet here I found myself witnessing it. Tally grinned wildly and clapped her hands in delight, dropping the cane altogether. It landed softly in the pillowy moss.

“Ooh, goodness! It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper adventure! Amara, yeah? I’m hoping you’re some kind of extraplanar entity because I’ve only ever gotten to meet one of those. It was going to be two but then it turned out that the second one was just a spiteful changeling with a penchant for practical jokes and the ability to distribute questionably attained hallucinogenic herbs…”

I cut her off, feeling distinctly alarmed. “Hold on, I’m just a regular human kid.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s exactly what an extraplanar entity would say. You’re not related to Cthulhu by any chance, are you?”

“No, definitely not,” I said. I’d tried to read Lovecraft once, but I had to put the book down after about thirty pages. You can ignore his belief system for only so long before it makes you want to puke.

I decided it was time to get some proper answers. “Okay, so who are you and what do you do?”

“Good question!” She looked delighted. “Lots of things. A devotee of the dragon god, a former A-man, and a spinster! I’m not very fast or strong, but my magic skills pack one hell of a punch!”

She demonstrated a surprisingly skilled martial jab before wincing and reaching behind to grip at the base of her spine. “Oof.”

“A devotee of the dragon god. And you know magic,” I repeated. Considering my circumstances, I decided surprise would be rather foolish. I did ask a singing book to show me ‘something new’. This was hardly the most outlandish thing that could have happened. “Where were you born?”

“The jungle, of course,” Tally said.

“And how did you get here?”

“A group of wandering clerics said they’d seen me in a vision, so naturally I left my home and traveled with them- with my parents' blessing of course. Stayed with those guys for fifty-something years. Had to say goodbye pretty recently.” She sounded sad.

“Why?” I asked cautiously, not sure if I was inadvertently prodding at some tragic thing.

“Oh, I was getting bored.” She stooped to pick up her cane again and surveyed me with a critical eye.

I shifted uncomfortably. “What?”

I disliked being scrutinized. And people scrutinized you so very often. I had a working theory that it’s got to do with being not grown-up yet.

“You. Tell me your story, child. I want to hear all about how you ended up in the moss fields without a copper to your name.”

I considered. She’d been open with me, and kind. Could it hurt?

Yes, it could.

“Well. Um, where I come from, we don’t- really have- magic? I was just walking home when I saw a book on the ground.” I paused, trying to think of how to phrase it. “I sort of talked to it for a bit, then I woke up here.”

Deliberately vague, but based on the way her eyes lit up, perhaps not vague enough. Tally leaned in until we were almost nose-to-nose.

“You’re one of those people,” she breathed, close enough that I could smell the cinnamon on her breath. “You’re a story traveler. You’re from another world.” There was reverence painted into the very syllables. I resisted the urge to back away.

“I guess I am,” I told her, giving up on discretion. “At least, I can’t think of a better explanation.”

“Oh, this is going to be so interesting, my dear.” She sounded positively delighted, and for a moment I had the uncanny sense that I was staring into a mirror. “Do me the honor of traveling with me for a bit?”

It wasn't really something I had to think about for very long at all. Without her, I had no measure of the world I was in, way of finding food, or sense of direction. If she ended up hurting me, I would have done no better if I refused and stayed by myself in a strange land with nothing but the ill-fitting clothes on my back. Even so, I hesitated.

“...Of course.”

So we hiked together across the moss. My guide was slow, which was fine by me. Athleticism was never my strong suit anyway. I was decent in gym class but never had an interest in sports aside from that. The ground was pleasantly springy underfoot and the hills were gentle.

As we walked, Tally rattled on and on about all the adventures she’d had over the years. It was fascinating to listen to, but I made sure to pay close attention for a different reason. Sure enough, little clues about the world seeped into her anecdotes.

Five main kingdoms. Magic, both gifted and learned. All sorts of weird monsters. Nobility, spies, and a plethora of sentient mushrooms.

“How do you know you’re not eating a sentient one?”

She looked at me like I was insane. “You ask its permission before you pick it. If it replies, you don’t.”

We stopped at about noon to eat something. Tally chose a place where the moss dipped down to give us some semblance of shade. If you squinted off into the distance, you could see the start of a forest on the horizon. I decided to take this as a good sign.

Tally produced some kind of flatbread and a spiced vegetable stew from her pack, and for a moment I was taken aback. I’d read plenty of adventure books and had been expecting something like stale bread or gruel. For once, though, I kept my mouth shut. We ate in silence for a few minutes. The quiet stretched unbearably for me, but I wasn’t sure if Tally felt uncomfortable. She didn’t look it.

I decided to break the silence. “This is good, how’d you make it?” And in all fairness, I was genuinely curious.

“Well, I don’t exactly remember. Some kind of root, a Hologobi mushroom, a spiky plant I found in an undertaker’s back garden, and a few herbs that I bought in a magical flea market fifteen miles south of here. The bread was gifted to me by a friend of mine who enjoys baking. Oh, and a spell!”

That sounds really sketchy. I shifted uncomfortably at that, moving to lean back on my hands. Something fluttered under my palm as I rested my weight on it, making a wet crunch.

“Ah!” I yelped, whipping my hand away. A thick smear of blood covered it like a neon warning sign.