The quest for interdimensional artifacts sounded suitably epic, the kind of thing that would fill several volumes of a light novel. The reality, however, started with a rather less-than-epic task: gathering information. Arthur, ever the diligent hero-in-training (or perhaps already fully-fledged hero, I wasn't entirely sure of his official status), suggested we start by asking around Silverwood for any legends or rumors of powerful, world-bending artifacts.
Our initial attempts were…fruitless, to say the least. Asking random townsfolk about "interdimensional artifacts" usually resulted in blank stares, concerned whispers about my mental state, and the occasional suggestion that I might have had one too many tankards of Master Borin's surprisingly potent ale (which, for the record, I hadn't even tried yet).
"Perhaps the scholars at the Grand Library would know more," Arthur suggested after our third unsuccessful attempt to glean information from a bewildered cheese merchant.
The Grand Library of Silverwood was indeed grand, a towering edifice filled with countless scrolls and tomes that smelled delightfully of old parchment and forgotten secrets. It was my kind of place, a sanctuary of knowledge where I could hopefully blend in amongst the other bookish types, even in my "cutting-edge" Earth attire.
However, my hopes of a quiet research session were quickly dashed. The librarians, while certainly knowledgeable, were just as fascinated by my presence as the rest of Silverwood. I found myself the subject of hushed conversations and surreptitious glances over dusty manuscripts. One particularly bold scholar even approached me to inquire about the "strange symbols" on my t-shirt (which, for the record, was a band logo). My explanation of "heavy metal music" was met with a mixture of confusion and mild alarm.
After hours of sifting through obscure texts with titles like "The Linguistic Habits of Deep-Sea Gnomes" and "A Treatise on the Proper Polishing of Dragon Scales," we hadn't found a single mention of anything remotely interdimensional. My hope was starting to dwindle. Maybe the mage at the guild was right. Maybe the idea of traveling between worlds was just a fanciful legend.
Just as my eyelids were starting to feel heavy from the sheer volume of ancient text, Arthur nudged me. "Lauren, look at this."
He had a large, leather-bound book open to a page filled with intricate illustrations of celestial bodies and strange symbols. The title, written in elegant script, was "Cosmic Conjunctions and Their Arcane Significance."
"This section talks about periods when the veil between worlds thins," Arthur explained, pointing to a particularly complex diagram. "And it mentions artifacts that are said to resonate with these conjunctions, capable of… well, of bridging those gaps."
My heart did a little flutter. This was it! Our first lead!
"What kind of artifacts?" I asked eagerly, peering at the text.
Arthur's brow furrowed as he deciphered the ancient script. "It mentions… a 'Tear of the Twin Moons,' said to fall during a rare lunar eclipse, and a 'Whisper of the Silent Stars,' found only in the heart of a meteor that strikes during a specific constellation."
Tears of moons and whispers of stars. It sounded suitably mystical and artifact-y. The only problem? I had absolutely no idea when the next twin moon eclipse was, or what constellation was currently in vogue.
"Do we know when these… cosmic events are supposed to happen?" I asked.
Arthur scanned the text further. "The Twin Moon eclipse is mentioned as occurring once every… five hundred years."
My jaw dropped. Five hundred years? I'd be lucky if my phone charger lasted five hundred days.
"And the Whisper of the Silent Stars?" I pressed.
"That requires the constellation of… uh… the Celestial Squid to be at its zenith," Arthur read. "Which… the text doesn't specify a timeframe for."
Celestial Squid. Seriously? This universe had some truly bizarre astronomical naming conventions.
Just when I was starting to feel utterly defeated, a voice piped up beside us. "Looking for information on cosmic conjunctions, are we?"
We both turned to see an elderly man with a long, flowing white beard that rivaled the mage's, and eyes that twinkled with an almost mischievous intelligence. He wore a slightly dusty robe adorned with astrological symbols and carried a stack of books that looked like they might topple over at any moment.
"Yes, sir," Arthur said politely. "We're trying to learn about artifacts that might be connected to interdimensional travel."
The old man's eyes widened, and he peered at me intently. "Interdimensional travel, you say? Fascinating! Are you, by any chance, the young lady with the… remarkably un-Siennus attire?"
"That would be me," I admitted, feeling a familiar flush creep up my neck.
"Magnificent!" the old man exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. "I am Eldrin, the Grand Librarian Emeritus and a humble scholar of all things celestial and… unusual. Tell me, young lady, what brings you on such a… cosmically ambitious quest?"
I recounted my tale of the interdimensional puddle, my utter lack of magical prowess, and my desperate desire to return home. Eldrin listened with rapt attention, occasionally interjecting with enthusiastic "oohs" and "aahs."
When I finished, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "An interdimensional puddle, you say? Remarkable! I've always theorized about such phenomena, but to hear of it firsthand… truly extraordinary!" He then turned to Arthur. "And you, young man, are assisting this… dimensional traveler?"
"I am," Arthur replied with a nod. "My name is Arthur."
"A noble pursuit indeed!" Eldrin declared. "Now, about these artifacts… the Tear of the Twin Moons and the Whisper of the Silent Stars are indeed powerful, but as you've discovered, their appearances are… infrequent. However," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "there are other possibilities. Less potent, perhaps, but potentially more… accessible."
My ears perked up. More accessible sounded significantly better than waiting five centuries for a celestial tear.
"Tell us more, Master Eldrin," Arthur urged.
Eldrin launched into a lengthy explanation of various minor artifacts rumored to possess dimensional properties, most of which sounded incredibly obscure and located in ridiculously dangerous places. One involved retrieving a scale from a three-headed mountain goat that only appeared during thunderstorms, another required navigating a labyrinth guarded by riddling sphinxes with a penchant for existential philosophy.
Just when I was starting to despair again, Eldrin mentioned a "Lodestone of Shifting Sands," said to be hidden in the shifting dunes of the Whispering Desert, a vast expanse to the south. Legend had it that the lodestone pulsed with chaotic energies that could, under the right circumstances, briefly open pathways between worlds.
"The Whispering Desert?" Arthur frowned. "That's… quite a distance, and it's known for its harsh conditions and territorial sand drakes."
Sand drakes? Sounded like a significant upgrade from judgmental pigs.
"Indeed," Eldrin agreed, his eyes twinkling again. "But the legend also says that the lodestone resonates with strong emotions, particularly longing for another home. For our dimensional traveler here, it might prove… uniquely attuned."
Longing for another home? Yeah, I had that in spades. The thought of my comfy beanbag and a decent Wi-Fi connection was a constant ache in the back of my mind.
"So, the Whispering Desert it is?" I asked, a sliver of hope rekindling within me.
"It seems like our most… immediately actionable lead," Arthur agreed, though his expression held a hint of concern.
As we thanked Eldrin for his invaluable (and slightly terrifying) information, I couldn't help but feel a sense of… well, not exactly excitement, but a definite stirring of purpose. We had a goal, a direction. Even if that direction led to a desert filled with sand drakes.
Our preparations for the journey to the Whispering Desert were surprisingly simple.
Arthur, being the seasoned adventurer (or at least someone who looked the part), already had most of the necessary equipment: sturdy traveling clothes, a waterskin that looked suspiciously bottomless, and a rather impressive-looking compass that probably didn't just point north. I, on the other hand, contributed my slightly worn backpack and a half-eaten bag of Earth-brand potato chips, which Arthur eyed with mild curiosity.
Before we left Silverwood, Arthur insisted we visit the local armorer. I had visions of myself being fitted for gleaming plate mail and wielding a magnificent sword. The reality was somewhat less glamorous. Arthur purchased a sturdy walking stick for me and a wide-brimmed hat to protect me from the desert sun.
"A swird might be a bit… much for now," he said with a diplomatic smile as I eyed a particularly shiny blade longingly. "The walking stick can at least help you keep your balance."
Balance. A recurring theme in my isekai adventure.
As we stood at the edge of Silverwood, the dusty path leading south stretching out before us, two figures approached us with hurried steps. One was Luan, the gruff dwarf we'd briefly encountered at the Silver Stag, his beard even more tangled than I remembered, and the other was Francis, the perpetually worried-looking priest who seemed to radiate an aura of gentle anxietu.
"Arthur! Wait!" Luan's voice was surprisingly booming for someone of his stature.
Arthur turned, a look of surprise on his face. "Luan? Francis? What are you doing here?"
"We heard you were heading south," Francis said, wringing his hands. "To the Whispering Desert. That's… a very dangerous place."
"Aye," Luan grumbled, hefting a rather intimidating-looking axe. "Full of nasty critters and sand that bites harder than a badger."
"We're aware of the risks," Arthur said calmly. "But Lauren needs to find something there."
Luan and Francis exchanged a look. Then, to my utter surprise, Luan declared, "Then we're coming with you."
"What?" Arthur and I said in unison.
"We owe you one, lad," Luan said, his gruff exterior softening slightly. "You helped me out with that… misunderstanding with the gambling den owner. Besides," he eyed me with a critical gaze, "someone needs to make sure this… oddly dressed lass doesn't get eaten by a sand drake."
Francis nodded fervently. "Indeed. It is our Christianly duty to assist those in need. And the Whispering Desert… it sounds like a place where one might require a bit of divine protection." He clutched a small wooden cross tightly.
Arthu looked genuinely touched. "Luan, Francis, that's… incredibly kind of you. But you don't have to do this. It could be dangerous."
"Bah!" Luan scoffed. "Danger's just a Tuesday for a dwarf. Besides, someone needs to carry the good ale." He patted a bulging sack slung over his shoulder.
Francis, despite his worried demeanor, stood firm. "We are with you, Arthur. And with you, uh… Lauren." He gave me a nervous smile.
I was utterly bewildered. These two, who I'd barely met, were willing to risk the perils of a sand drake-infested desert to help a complete stranger from another dimension find a potentially mythical artifact. My initial assessment of the people of Siennus as merely curious was clearly an understatement. They were also… surprisingly loyal and perhaps a little bit insane.
And then there was the dynamic between them. Luan, the gruff, ale-loving dwarf, and Francis, the anxious, god-fearing priest. It was like a fantasy buddy-cop movie waiting to happen. I had a feeling this journey to the Whispering Desert was going to be anything but boring.
As we set off down the dusty path, our unlikely fellowship formed, I couldn't help but chuckle. My saviors weren't the stoic, brooding heroes of my manga. They were a kind-hearted but slightly naive knight, a grumpy dwarf with a penchant for ale, and a perpetually worried priest. And me? I was still just the clueless, slightly awkward girl in the "foot-gloves," trying to navigate a world that was determined to be as bizarre and unpredictable as possible. This wasn't my manga, but maybe, just maybe, it was going to be a pretty interesting story nonetheless. Especally with this delightfully quirky bunch by my side. I just hoped Luan had packed enough ale. We were definitely going to need it.