We hear that voice, and suddenly it just… stops, leaving us hanging in an awkward silence. Then Matt, with impeccable timing, throws his hands up and shouts, “Well, that was weird! I swear I felt drunk again!”
I blink at him. "Matt… how do you feel drunk without actually drinking?"
He shrugs with that easygoing grin. “It’s like my natural state of being, man.”
Draco groans, “We’re trying to survive, and your big revelation is that you feel drunk?”
Tony joins in with a snort, “Pretty sure Matt could get drunk off air if he tried hard enough.”
With a sigh, I shake my head. “Alright, idiots, focus. We need to figure out what that voice was all about.”
But as we move along, the chaos Matt sparked starts to snowball. As if on a mission to make things worse, Matt starts talking about the strange “qualities” of our group a little too loudly. “So here we are! The ragtag bunch of Earthlings, dropped into some fantasy world like wannabe heroes who missed their morning coffee. Honestly, if I had a nickel for every time we almost died here…”
It doesn’t help that Tony starts laughing hysterically, declaring, “Hey, at least this world has good ale! Not that it’s stopping Matt from acting like a complete fool.”
The locals, who had been eyeing us with vague curiosity, suddenly seem more suspicious than amused. Then Draco, who apparently has no chill, mutters under his breath, “Yeah, and these idiots actually think we’re here to save them.”
Some nearby townsfolk gasp, whispering to each other. “Did you hear that? They think we need saving!”
One old man shakes his fist, “How dare these strangers insult Ragnillon! Talking as if they’re better than us!”
Oh, great. We’ve gone from “harmless oddballs” to “arrogant invaders” in a matter of seconds. Sage, trying to diffuse things, gently says, “Let’s not stir up more trouble. We don’t need to offend the whole town.”
Matt, oblivious, chimes in, “Nah, they love us here. We're practically legends.”
“Legends?” Draco scoffs. “In your mind, maybe.”
Just as I’m about to throw in the towel and give up on any semblance of a good reputation, Matt—naturally—takes it one step further.
“Oh, come on, people! If you had a taste of the pizza back on Earth, you’d know what you’re missing,” he calls out, trying to rally the crowd to his side. “I mean, we’re basically heroes just for existing!”
The crowd goes from mildly annoyed to genuinely irritated. One guy in the back actually hurls a tomato. It misses Matt but lands with a squelch on Tony’s shirt.
“Seriously?” Tony yells, staring at his ruined shirt. “You threw a tomato at me?”
A woman shouts back, “Arrogant foreigners! Who do you think you are?”
Matt, now fully committed to his role as Ragnillon’s Public Enemy No. 1, replies, “Oh, don’t act so offended. We’re probably the best thing to happen to this town since…” he pauses dramatically, “…ever!”
The murmurs of discontent grow louder, and someone mutters the dreaded word: “Bounty.”
At this point, Sage grabs my arm. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
Too late. The whole town’s buzzing with angry voices, and a few armed guys in the crowd are glaring at us with intent.
Draco cracks his knuckles, his grin widening. “Well, if they want a fight…”
“No, we don’t need a fight!” I hiss. But it doesn’t matter. Someone’s already put a price on our heads. By the time we reach the van, there are posters magically appearing on walls with hastily sketched versions of our faces, each with the words: “Wanted: Alive… or not.”
And just like that, every bounty hunter in Ragnillon is suddenly on our trail. As we scramble into the van, I hear Tony mutter, “I knew we should’ve kept a lower profile…”
I slam the gas, and we’re tearing down the road, pursued by what seems like the entirety of Ragnillon’s angry population. Matt, still grinning, turns to me and says, “You’re welcome. Now we’re legends and wanted criminals. Bet you didn’t see that coming, huh?”
“Matt,” I say, gripping the wheel with white-knuckled intensity, “if we get out of this alive, you’re paying me back for this.”
Behind us, a squad of bounty hunters on horseback, followed by others on foot, are closing in, shouting threats and hurling weapons at our van. One arrow smacks into the back door and sticks.
“Get that thing out!” I yell, trying to keep us steady as we tear down the road.
Sage, without a hint of panic, just pulls out the arrow and tosses it. “Nice aim,” she mutters. “Too bad it won’t save them.”
Draco sticks his head out of the window and, without any sense of irony, starts yelling insults back at the bounty hunters. “Come on, is that all you’ve got? Try to keep up!”
Tony snorts, “Right, because taunting the people chasing us is definitely the way to go.”
But Draco’s in his element now. “Hey! I’m just making this chase a little more fun.”
Up ahead, I spot a fork in the road. “Hold on!” I shout, veering left just as a boulder crashes down on the right side. Someone had set a trap, which we narrowly avoid.
Tony’s eyes widen. “Okay, that was close. Maybe they’re taking this bounty thing seriously…”
As we pull away, the last of the bounty hunters left far behind, the adrenaline finally fades, replaced by an exhausted silence. Just as we’re about to breathe a sigh of relief, I see what’s waiting for us on the horizon—another town, and at the gates, a row of guards with wanted posters in hand, each bearing our faces.
Matt, completely unfazed, looks over at us and grins. “Round two, anyone?”
The rest of us groan in unison.
“Matt,” I say, rubbing my temples, “if we survive this, you’re banned from talking to locals. Permanently.”
But deep down, I know it’s too late. The entire kingdom of Ragnillon sees us as the most wanted fugitives. Fugitives j a different realm, how do we do it (Matt mostly)?.
YOU ARE READING
Worlds Across
AdventureThis is a book about 5 friends who go on a road trip but get transferred to another dimension called Ragnillon, they have to save Ragnillon (or not care about it) and get back go earth.
