"Lead the way, princess."
Nolan followed behind the princess, his short sword in hand, as she retrieved her broken blade and orb from the ground. Together, they patrolled the village streets, checking every building that wasn't already a pile of cinders.
"Is anybody in here?" Nolan yelled into an open doorway.
Nobody answered.
'God. Another one?'
House after house, the same silence. Most of the people they found weren't people anymore — just bodies. And the few who were still breathing were barely holding on.
"Help me…" A middle-aged man called out weakly from behind an overturned cart, blood pooling from a wound in his gut.
Nolan's eyes went wide. "I got you. Just hang in there with me, man." He scooped the man up, hoisting him over his shoulder, and dragged him out.
He set the man down alongside a growing cluster of survivors near the village center. There weren't many. A handful of wounded villagers sat in the dirt, those in better shape giving first aid to those who weren't.
Nolan turned back and spotted the princess nearby. She was crouched beside a young woman who was sobbing, her body shaking with the kind of grief that didn't have words.
"I know, Mary. I know." The princess's voice was low, steady. "I'm sorry for your loss. I understand. He was a good man."
The widow couldn't answer. She just kept crying.
Nolan stood there for a moment, watching it all from the wounded, the grieving, to the ruined buildings still smoldering around them. The mood was grim and dark. Heavy in a way that pressed against his chest.
'What kind of world was I sent to?'
"REEK!"
A goblin screeched from the side. Nolan whipped his head toward the sound. The thing stood at the edge of a collapsed building, its beady eyes locked on the survivors.
'You sick bastards. How dare you hurt these people.'
He pointed his short sword at it, fury running through his veins. "Die!"
He charged forward, swinging. But this goblin was smarter than the others. It raised its club, backed off, dodging his strikes with jerky, calculated movements. It clearly knew the sword would kill it if it connected, so it played it cautiously, circling, keeping distance.
'A smart goblin, aren't you?'
Nolan narrowed his eyes, circling with it. Then from the corner of his eye, he saw the princess running forward, the orb raised in her hand.
"Oh divine light, smite those before me — Lightning Bolt!"
The orb flared bright white. From its center, a small bolt of radiant energy shot forward at the speed of a tennis ball. It struck the goblin square in the chest, punching a sizable hole clean through.
"AAHK—!" The goblin screeched, staggering.
Nolan didn't hesitate. He rushed forward and thrust his short sword through the goblin's chest, killing it instantly. Its body crumpled.
He turned back to the princess, his eyes wide.
"The frick was that? Was that magic?"
"That's what you're surprised about?" The princess looked at him, genuinely puzzled. "Magic?"
"Uh, yeah? You just shot a bolt of light out of a ball and put a hole through that thing's chest. That's not normal where I come from."
"Did you not have magic in your world?"
"No. We did not have magic." He paused. "Also — how do you know the word 'magic'? Like, wait." His eyes narrowed. "How am I even talking to you right now? We're from different planets. There's no way we speak the same language."
He looked around at the surviving villagers, then back at the princess.
"There's no way I speak their language either. How does any of this —"
"It's the Veil," the princess said, as if it were obvious. "Whatever force brought us here, it bridges language. Regardless of whether you're a human, a celestial, a dwarf, or an elf as long as you're humanoid, all other humanoids will understand you. It's as simple as that."
"Huh." Nolan scratched his chin. "So I'm not actually speaking any language right now. And you're not either."
"That's right," she responded.
'A magical auto-translation. Sure. Why not.'
"Cool, I guess." He shrugged. "That's not terrifying at all."
He tried to make light of it. Tried to distract himself from the reality of it all that this world had rewritten something fundamental about how life works.
As they continued through town, Nolan stopped mid-step.
'The old man.'
Remembering he left the old man alone behind the bush Nolan turns his heel.
He sprinted off without a word. The princess called something after him but he was already gone, his legs moving before her words could reach him.
He turned down the familiar road, past the dead goblin he'd killed earlier and there he was.
"Old man!" Nolan skidded to a stop, dropping to a crouch. "You still there?"
A pause and then a frail voice from behind the leaves.
"Young man? Is that you?"
'Oh thank god.'
"It's me, man. It's me." Nolan pushed through the bush and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Hey. I brought help. Just stick with me, okay?"
"Okay." The old man nodded, his cane clutched across his lap like he hadn't moved an inch since Nolan left him.
'He actually stayed put. He actually listened. This man is already my favorite person in this world.'
Nolan hoisted him up, taking most of his weight as they shuffled out to the street. The old man wasn't heavy, just fragile in the way that made Nolan terrified of moving too fast.
The princess was already walking toward them, her expression shifting from confusion to recognition.
"My lady!" the old man called out the moment he saw her.
"Mind giving me a hand, princess?" Nolan grunted. The old man was sliding off his shoulder.
She rushed up, taking the old man's other arm without hesitation. "Eisenhower. You're still alive."
"By the good grace of this young man, I am, my lady." He steadied himself between the two of them, then looked up at her with worried eyes. "How are the others?"
'A true gentleman. The world's falling apart and he's asking about everybody but himself.'
But the princess's eyes told the story before her mouth did.
"Those that have made it are meeting up in the town center." Her voice dropped. "The losses are… too much."
The guilt hit her face like a wave. She tried to hide it. She didn't do a great job.
"It is not your fault, my lady," Eisenhower said gently. "You tried your best."
Tears welled up in her eyes. She wiped them away before they could fall, steeling herself. Forcing herself to be strong.
'She really cares about these people.'
Nolan watched her struggle to hold it together and felt something tighten in his own chest. Granted, he wasn't doing much better. The sight of it all the bodies, the burned homes, the blood had branded itself into his mind. He couldn't seem to get it out.
'Focus, Nolan. You can worry about it later.'
They reached the town center with Eisenhower between them, and for the first time since the attack, Nolan felt something other than dread. The survivors were gathered there not many, but alive. Breathing. He'd helped make that happen.
'Even if things aren't great, at least they're still alive.'
At the sight of the princess returning, the townsfolk's faces changed. Relief broke through the grief like sunlight through smoke. A small thing, but real a sign that even when everything had gone wrong, they believed things could start again. Because she was here.
"My lady." A man approached and dressed in what looked like guard gear, his head bowed. "We've checked everywhere. It seems… we are all that are left."
He wouldn't look at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the ground, as if meeting her gaze would make the guilt too real.
The princess said nothing.
Nolan looked around the town center. Counted heads. For a village this size, the number of houses, the length of the streets, the walls that had once surrounded it all there should have been dozens more.
'This is it? This is all that's left?'
He didn't say it out loud. Nobody needed to hear it.