The Charm and the Guide

I stepped out of the back room and immediately regretted it.

Every inch of my awareness shifted to my feet. Not because of pain or injury—just... discomfort. Flat shoes felt wrong. My heels struck the floor with a hollow finality, like I was stomping clumsily in boots a size too big. I adjusted my stride, slower now, careful. The strange urge to rise up onto the balls of my feet hit me hard, like it would somehow fix the imbalance. What the hell did that skill do to me?

High Stepper. Right.

I passed a table of goblin merchants deep in argument, ignoring their glances. Back at the bar, I slid onto the same stool from earlier. The bartender was there before I could even wave her down, like a sixth sense of what a customer might need. I wondered briefly if she had a skill as well. Another drink appeared in front of me—dark red, smoky, bittersweet.

Murmuring a quick thanks, I raised the glass and took a sip.

Up went her eyebrows, like I'd grown a second head. It hit me like a bucket of cold water: was I a total asshole before? Did I bark orders and snap fingers instead of saying please?

Great. Another thing to untangle.

Another sip of the drink down my throat, I tried to focus, to sift through what I'd just been handed. Mountain oracle. Imminent change. A rusty nail and a charm. The leprechaun—if I can call him that—seemed convinced I was the only one who could fix whatever's coming. And that should have been flattering. Except for the fact that I had no idea what I was doing, where I really was, or how high heels had become a source of power in my personal skill tree.

Had I been sent to the wrong world?

I glanced over at the bartender. She was rinsing a tumbler, her posture tight. The charm around my neck feels hot all of a sudden. Not burning—just... warm, like it's listening.

I leaned forward.

"I know you're busy, but do you know anything about a mountain oracle?"

She froze.

A beat of silence. Then, too fast, she set down the glass and hurried over to me.

"Don't say her name in here," she whispered sharply. "We don't need extra eyes on this place."

"But you know where I might find her?"

She rolled her eyes, and the motion is so practiced it nearly masked the tension in her shoulders. Nearly. "In the mountains. To the south. I grew up in a forest near her... home..." Her voice trailed off, softening, like the words had dredged up something uninvited. Her hand rested on the edge of the bar. Then she turned and started walking away.

"Wait," I call after her. "Listen. I'm in need of some help. A guide. I can pay. Think you're up for it?"

She stoped. Didn't turn right away. Just tilted her head and sighed.

"I bought a money charm this morning," she muttered. "Thought it'd help me earn a little extra this month." She turned around now, eyes narrowed. "Didn't think it'd tie me to some... quest."

"You can say no," I offered. "I'm not forcing you."

Her laugh was low and humorless. "Haven't bought a lot of money charms, have you?" she said. "Try to reject the first offer and it gets offended. Next thing you know I'll be joining the sisters on the stage, or worse."

"That sounds... ominous."

She shrugged. "Try becoming a pop idol because a pendant decided you needed to 'fulfill your potential.' Happens more often than you'd think."

We locked eyes. The bar hummed around us. I didn't know why, but I trusted her. Maybe it was the charm working, or maybe it was the way she hadn't told me to go to hell yet.

"So," I said, finishing my drink. "Tomorrow morning?"

"Dawn," she said. "Before the sun has a chance to think better of it."

"Got a name?"

She smirked. "You already knew it once. Let's see if you remember it by the time we reach the trees."

She walked off, ponytail swinging. I watched her go, the curve of her back, the confident sway of her hips. Her eyeliner was flawless—cool-toned, sharp wings, with a hint of shimmer under the lower lash line. And the lip stain she was wearing? Applied with a brush, layered, probably fixed with a matte sealant and maybe a hint of gloss in the center.

I blink.

...Why the hell do I know that?