You know that moment in a game where you unlock a new class or power, and you're so hyped to try it out—only to realize you have absolutely no idea how to use it? Yeah, that's me right now. Except this isn't a game, I'm stuck in ancient Greece, and apparently, I'm a druid now.
But not the cool "I-turn-into-a-bear-and-flip-the-table" druid. No spells, no wild shapes, no summoning hordes of animals to do my bidding. Nope. My powers come directly from the World Tree—and trust me, it's not as fun as it sounds.
"So let me get this straight," I said, sitting on a stone bench as toga-clad athletes jogged past me in the dust-choked streets. "I'm now a druid because the World Tree's chosen me as its glorified bug fixer. My powers are theoretically cool, but I can't actually use them like a normal druid?"
Ratatoskr, still in his chibi squirrel form and perched invisibly on my shoulder, snickered. "Pretty much. You're a nerf druid. Special mechanics only you understand."
The owl, perched on the opposite shoulder—in equally adorable, floating chibi form—tilted its head. "The Tree's power resides within you. You need only learn to draw upon it."
"Sure, sure," I muttered. "Let me just ping the API endpoint for magic trees. Oh wait, I'm in the middle of the Greek Olympics with zero instructions, zero spells, and two invisible freeloaders on my shoulders."
Ratatoskr flicked his tail. "Freeloaders? Excuse me! I'm your charming guide. Plus, you look crazy talking to yourself like that, so you're welcome."
A passing athlete gave me a strange look as I muttered to the air. Great. To everyone else, I probably looked like the village lunatic. Because, plot twist: the owl and squirrel were completely invisible to the outside world. Which was fine—until they decided to possess me.
Oh, right. I should mention that little detail.
"Possess me?" I'd asked earlier, not long after stepping through the portal and landing in ancient Greece.
The owl had given me its usual cryptic look. "Should the need arise, we can inhabit your body. You will retain control, but we will amplify your abilities."
"And by abilities, you mean…?" I'd prompted.
"Your connection to the World Tree," the owl had replied serenely.
Ratatoskr had been less subtle. "Think of us like your teammates buffing your stats. Except we ride shotgun in your brain. Pretty cool, right?"
I hadn't thought it was cool. I still didn't. The idea of getting possessed by a squirrel bard and a cryptic owl was nightmare fuel.
But here we were.
"So what's the plan?" I asked, adjusting the itchy tunic someone had shoved into my hands after I arrived. "How does participating in ancient Greek Olympics fix the timeline?"
"The interference occurred here," the owl said, its small, glowy eyes peering at me. "A significant event tied to these games has been altered. You must restore it."
Ratatoskr grinned. "In other words, you're gonna have to compete. Ooh, I hope it's a chariot race!"
I froze. "Compete? You mean me? I'm a developer, not an athlete! I sit in ergonomic chairs for twelve hours a day. I get winded walking up three flights of stairs!"
The squirrel's grin widened. "Not with us around. We'll give you a little… boost, if you know what I mean."
"Boost?" I repeated warily.
Before I could protest further, a booming voice broke through the din of the crowds.
"All competitors, gather for the opening games!"
I don't know what part of me decided to go through with this. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it was sheer panic. Or maybe I was just too stubborn to let this timeline crash and burn while I stood on the sidelines.
Whatever the reason, I found myself being ushered into a massive, open-air stadium alongside actual athletes. Buff guys. Tall guys. Guys who looked like they could wrestle a bull and win.
"I'm going to die," I whispered.
"Not with us here," Ratatoskr said cheerfully, now lounging on my shoulder.
"Focus," the owl added. "You will know the interference when it reveals itself."
As I glanced at the crowd—a sea of spectators cheering and waving—I had one thought:
Note to self: The next time I spawn into a timeline, I'm requesting a support class.
The first event was announced: the stadion race. A short sprint, winner takes glory. Simple, straightforward… and absolutely my worst nightmare.
As the athletes lined up, I shuffled nervously to the starting line. I was already drenched in sweat just thinking about this.
"Okay, guys," I muttered under my breath. "If you've got some magic 'World Tree boost' or whatever, now's the time."
The owl's voice echoed in my mind. "Trust in the Tree. Draw upon its strength."
Ratatoskr chimed in with a laugh. "Or just let us drive for a bit!"
"Wait, what—"
Before I could finish, a wave of warmth surged through me. It felt like roots had wrapped themselves around my core, pulsing energy into every nerve, every muscle. My vision sharpened. My breathing steadied. It was like I'd been plugged into a power source the size of the universe itself.
"Whoa," I whispered.
"You're welcome," Ratatoskr said smugly.
"Run," the owl commanded.
The horn sounded.
I ran.
It wasn't just running. It was flying. My legs carried me faster than they ever had before, like the ground itself was pushing me forward. Wind whipped past my face, the world blurring at the edges. Athletes who should have outpaced me were now behind me, shouting in surprise.
For a brief moment, I thought I might actually win this thing.
And that's when I saw it.
A flicker—a glitch—just ahead of the finish line. A shadowy distortion in the air, like reality itself was cracking.
"The interference," the owl said sharply. "Do not stop. Break through it."
"Break through it?" I shouted. "Are you insane?!"
"Run, hero!" Ratatoskr cheered.
With no other choice, I charged straight for the glitch, praying to every god, goddess, and cosmic entity that I wouldn't disintegrate on impact.
And as I hit the distortion, everything went white.
Note to self: If I'm going to be a timeline-fixing druid, I need a tutorial, a guidebook, or at least a decent pair of running shoes. Being possessed by a squirrel and an owl doesn't count as a proper skill tree.