A very ineffectual check-up at the church.

I was seated in a private room, modest and poorly lit with only a bit of the day's waning light illuminating my surroundings. Initially the priestesses of the church had waved me off when I started spouting nonsense about pixies and amnesia, but thankfully Inquisitor Basilea's influence aided me in securing a place inside.

My head turns towards the knock on the door and an older woman drab in fine white, golden-trimmed robes enters. "Good afternoon Master Grant, my name is Sister Flora. I've been informed you're suffering from a fey-induced amnesia?" She has a motherly tone, though one that is strict and dotting, a bit like Aunt Saige to be honest. Her sharp, perceptive blue eyes look me over like a doctor in a hospital. I notice that this older priestess is in remarkably good shape, despite waves of dark brown hair becoming white with age and her eyes crinkling with crow's feet.

"Ah, yeah, I just sort of... woke up in my house- er, come to think of it, I don't even recognize it as my own home." I sputtered and I felt a bit of desperation come on, "I don't think I'm from this world, I was sent here somehow. I have memories of a different reality than this."

"Hmm, let me check if there are any magical signatures left on you..." Flora concentrated and waved a hand, her blue eyes suddenly sparkling and shining with beams of light. "That's strange; there is no residual enchantment on you nor any curses that I can see. As far as I can tell, there is nothing magical about your affliction." With a single deliberate blink, her eyes return to normal. "You are a scribe in the court of the Countess correct? Have you been under **** pressure lately?"

"Er, no? I don't think so," I replied, thinking about what my last memory was, "I just remember passing out in bed and waking up here."

"You passed out? From sexual exhaustion, perhaps?"

"Uh- well, I-"

"Were you erotically punished recently?" She inquired, as casually as I was beginning to think **** me for offenses was, "Did the Countess drain your semen for committing an error and perhaps she went too far?"

"Ah, well, I did get a handjob on the way over here." I admitted, "I don't think I've met this Countess Lydia Rose." I paused to think, "In fact, I don't even know what the Countess looks like! People say I work for her though, as a scribe."

"Yes, I've seen you in court before." Sister Flora responded, which brought me worry. It seemed that almost everyone I'd met so far was familiar with my life... the only one that didn't know what was going on was me! "In fact, I believe most people of this town know of that you work for the Countess."

"Why does everyone seem to know how I'm, uh... punished?"

"The Countess is not above public humiliation, in fact I personally witnessed her forcing you into sexual intercourse when you stepped on her new Elvish heels." She remarked thoughtfully, "I'm surprised you don't remember the night of Lydia's promotion ceremony: you stole a sip of wine before her and they strapped you down to the table until every woman had a mouthful of seed."

"That happened?" I cried, "You don't think that's weird at all?"

"Well, I didn't much care for the taste of your sperm, I would have rather supped on that delicious blueberry wine." Sister Flora casually flicked an errant hair back from her face as she recalled that torturous moment, "And by the time it was my turn to suckle from your spent member, you were completely delirious. A bit uncouth of the Countess to discipline you like that in my opinion. It was supposed to be a night of mirth and celebration." I was speechless.

"In any case, I'm afraid there's not much I can do to help you, other than recommend some rest." Sister Flora finally continued. I felt the pit in my stomach growing and apparently the good cleric could see my discomfort and her face softened, "Well, I suppose you could seek a very skilled divination wizard, perhaps they could scry into the past to see what exactly led to your amnesia."

"Okay, I think I can do that." I nodded, feeling invigorated by the news: I simply had to find some Hogwarts-ass school, roll into their cafeteria with floating candelabras, bribe some kid to-

"Of course, the only three specialists powerful enough are: the Elf princess Shandria Sorrel of the forbidden forest, the personal diviner of the Queen, and Malosh the Blood-Soaked." Sister Flora quickly added, shattering any semblance of a plan I had, "I don't recommend Malosh. His divination involves... the beating hearts of humans."

"I-I see, thank you." I shuddered at the thought; evidently this world was much more dangerous than I realized; not everywhere would be like Greendale.

"Now then, about your payment?"

"Huh?" I gave her a blank look, the cogs in my head turning, "P-Payment?" She turned her head downward and tightened her lips, a hint of frustration glazing over her eyes. I had a feeling I knew what was about to happen.

"The magical services of the church are not free boy," Flora crossed her arms and gave me an intimidating glare, "If you can't pay with gold, you will pay your debt to the church in other ways..."