With a groan the old man rose to his feet. He wore all black, and in either hand he held a dead rat and a ripe apple. Though, he quickly tossed the rat into the bushes. Eating the apple he spun around taking in his surroundings looking half curious and half stern.
"So this is the centre of the universe."
Joy? Sadness? Cathy did not know how to feel about this. She had always wanted a summoned, she dreamed of entering the arena with the greats, but maybe only half her dream could come true. Maybe.
The old man in front of her did not seem completely unfit, in fact he seemed well built beneath the thick black coat. There could be a surprise hidden within it or within him. Magic, technology, something. Then again, he did move a little rigidly.
Eventually the old man noticed the two ladies staring at him and he tipped his hat.
"Ladies."
Next to her ear Cathy heard Buzz humph.
"I'm here too!"
This startled the old man, for a moment, before he tipped his hat to Buzz and called him Mr Bumblebee. Cathy could not help but wonder what kind of world he came from to be so unphased by a talking pollinator. A magical one?
The old man had also mentioned something about the centre of the universe. How did he know that? Did he know a lot about the situation? Summoned aren't supposed to…
Nevermind. The old man began to walk away.
"Hey, where are you going?" called out Cathy.
The old man stopped and looked over his shoulder.
"I thought I might go for a stroll. See what else this brave new world holds. You ladies have a fine–"
The bus arrived without noticing the old man as it rounded the corner. A puff of smoke rose from beneath the metal hunk and the old man was gone.
Pale faced, the bus driver opened the door for the company. Honey gave a smile.
"Don't worry, he was a summoned."
The bus driver gave a relieved sigh. Meanwhile, Honey stopped on the steps with Buzz, turning to face Cathy.
"Hey, I think you should go home and get some rest because when he respawns he's going to be very confused and you'll want all your strength. Don't worry, I'll talk with your dad and explain everything. I'm sure the school will understand too."
Cathy gave Honey a quick embrace before the doors closed and the bus went away.
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The Gunslinger felt as if he had just come out of sweat lodge.
He was sitting on a comfortable couch in a room brimming with sunlight which highlighted the bright colouring of the furniture and trinkets. Next to him the younger girl from earlier was sitting pressing furiously at some buttons on a handled contraption.
In a metal box two large men, beastly and dressed funnily, were punching each other or shooting fireballs. It seemed the girl was controlling one of them with her contraption.
The image froze, and the girl turned to face the Gunslinger. She tried her best to hold back a smile.
"Hi, I'm Cathy. What's your name?"
The Gunslinger opened his mouth only to close it. His name… If he wanted a new life he would need a name. Gunslinger would not cut it. Though, there were so many names. Many names worn by his enemies. Many names worn by strangers.
"I haven't got one," the Gunslinger finally admitted.
"Oh," Cathy pouted. "Well, I'll need to call you something. Unless you want to be called the old man for the rest of your life."
The Gunslinger rose to his feet. It seemed as if the rat and apple had reappeared and he looked around for somewhere to throw the rat away. Somewhere that would not ruin such a fine room.
"I'm flattered, but I think I'll be going. It's been a pleasure, Cathy."
The Gunslinger made his way to the front door, peering out the window at the strange world he had seen earlier. Line upon line of imposing buildings, supposedly a house like the one he was in, with paved roads of a warm stone lined with peculiar metal carriages without any horses in sight. The Shaman had not prepared him for all that.
With a deep breath, the Gunslinger reached down for the door handle. It was a turn knob, although he could not turn it. The amount of force or direction did little.
"You can't open the door," said Cathy, "you're summoned and summoned can't interact with this world. You're here, but you're not. You know? Basically your soul is tethered to the soul of your summoner which is me… But you can interact with other summoned!"
Cathy looked deep into the Gunslinger's eyes. Her's seemed to glow above a wide smile.
"So you're saying I can't open a door?"
"Yes. You can't eat or drink or lift things either. Well, unless they're summoned or a part of a summoned. But, on the bright side, you also can't die, age, or keep injuries. Oh, and you have to stay within a kilometre of me or you'll respawn. I think that's everything… I'll have to check the pamphlet again."
The Gunslinger sighed and took a step back from the door. So this would be his residence from now on with this girl. A photograph on the wall told him that two others lived there, a man and a boy.
Here was a home.
What if the Gunslinger just did not complete his job? What could be done to him now that he was there? Then the Gunslinger remembered who his target was and for the first time in a long time he felt fear scrape down his spine. No. The job had to be done. The Gunslinger had to do it no matter what. But How? The Gunslinger needed time to assess his situation.
Someone had told him once that walking was the best way to gather our thoughts. She was a school teacher so she must have been right.
"Then, might you get the door for me and accompany me on a stroll?"
Cathy bounced on her toes.
"Okay. Let me take care of that rat for you first."
The Gunslinger handed the rat to Cathy who cupped it in her hands before disappearing. So the summoners could interact with the summoned, but not the other way around. The Gunslinger made a mental note.
Now what?
The Gunslinger tried to devise a way to complete his job. His target must surely be another summoned, but apparently summoned cannot die. He experienced that. Or, if she is not, then the Gunslinger cannot touch her. And how was he supposed to find his target? It did not seem to be such a small world.
Further, there was now this girl. Cathy. It seemed his fate was connected to her. Could the Gunslinger dare show her the truth about him, about his past? No. This was his new life. He was a new man. All that was left of the Gunslinger was one last job.
It did not take long for Cathy to return without the rat and she held the door open for the Gunslinger.
"Welcome to Lumindale, the gem of Estrial, old man."
The Gunslinger grunted as he stepped out into the brave new world. He really needed to come up with a name. Though, there really was no one he liked or a name that fit with who he wanted to be. What name suited a new man?
Before he could think about that, the Gunslinger still had to complete his job. Head up, mind sharp.
All the while, his revolver cackled beneath his shoulder.