I'm not what you would call an extraordinary person. Far from it, actually.

What do I do for a living? I hunt lizards. Big ones, but those are the only ones worth hunting. They aren't the most meaty animals out there, but their flesh carries a certain tang to it that you can't find anywhere else. That's probably why they're called tangs, but I'm getting sidetracked here. To me, tang meat tastes like vengeance. A tang killed my mother, you see. I decided to return that favor many times over. Perhaps that's a childish way of grieving for her, but I will admit there's a certain thrill to revenge that I don't like giving up.

However, there were often days when I wondered why I bothered keeping up my bloodthirsty occupation. Tangs used to be quite common around my city, back when mom was young, but over the years we got better and better at hunting them. Now it's a challenge just catching a glimpse of the stupid things.

My friend, Boon, said I should just give up hunting and go work on a farm somewhere. Boon, bless his heart, just couldn't see why I would never be content babysitting rubber trees and jungle fowl all day. I wanted a little excitement in my life! Well, just a little here and there, but not a whole lot. I received a nasty bite from a tang once, and I didn't want a repeat of that incident. Still, a little blood and a little running brought a lot more life into me than animal husbandry ever did.

Sometimes, I thought about joining one of the road crews that were paving solid pathways through the thick jungle, to other farms and places of interest. Not that I had any interest in shoveling dirt, mind. I would much rather be one of the guards. Marching about menacingly, carrying a big, sharp spear, and impaling a few animals here and there, that was what I was hoping for.

I was thinking of all the wild things I might run into in the jungle as I walked back home from another unsuccessful hunting trip. I hadn't found a single tang, which was now less disappointing to me than it was to my finances. Tang meat was now quite a luxury in my city, and I was rewarded with hefty sum of cash whenever I did manage to bring even a single tang back. But these days, it didn't happen often enough for it to keep me afloat. Sooner or later I would have to get some other job, but for now, I was content doing what I had been doing for the last decade.

The bustling city of Leeandra greeted me as I stepped out of the jungle. Just half a century before, the city had been confined to the towering trees above the ground, as nobody dared sleeping where the hungry creatures of the night prowled. But times had changed, and now the deadliest thing you were likely to find near the city was an unmarked drainage ditch. The stench would never leave you if you fell into one of those things.

There was a great contrast between the old treehouses high in the sky and the newer, stout wooden buildings that now covered the ground. The treehouses were smaller in width, cooled by the winds that always blew at that height, and were generally home to older families and older people, who still talked disdainfully about the new crop of bottom dwellers who had abandoned the traditions of their ancestors. The places on the ground were vertically challenged, often hastily constructed, and supported by a constantly growing number of grinning young people with an endless amount of optimism and good cheer. There were many more businesses down here then there were up above; they were staffed by many a young entrepreneur with dreams of riches and fame, and many sorts of things to sell. Spices and fabrics from faraway places, ornately carved figures of all shapes, all sorts of rubber based solids that were pliable and yet retained their shape, food both cheaply and elegantly prepared, all sorts of iron tools! Those were just a few of things I saw passing by the crowded streets on my way home.

Times were indeed changing. The city I grew up with was much different from the somber, compact outpost my parents lived in. My dad said everything changed because of a new species of bird an explorer had found. Qualls, as they were named, were a much more productive type of bird than any others we knew of; for food production, anyway. They laid very large and nutritious (but bland tasting) eggs each morning, and they could be harvested for a large amount of meat. The qualls let us feed much more people than we ever could before, which led to a huge boom in population in the city. It allowed us to shift from a society of hunters, scrambling for food while trying to avoid being hunted, to farmers, watching over our birds while staying firmly in one place. It let us clear out the jungle from threats, so we could walk on the ground without fear.

Not that the changes came without some growing pains, of course. Having a bunch more people in one place meant that Leeandra became a lot dirtier and messier than it had before. More people to steal from meant more thieves and scoundrels looking for a way to trick people out of their money. There was a growing pressure among many of the youths of the city to leave, and to establish a new city somewhere else. It was no secret as to why they felt that way. Many of them felt constricted by having so much competition, and many others felt looked down upon by the elders of the city just because they slept below the trees. To them, opportunity was calling, and opportunity was westward. Already, a few brave souls had staked out into the wilderness, promising to replace it with civilization in only twenty years. It was a bold claim, but seeing how Leeandra had already transformed in such a short timeframe, it was a claim I could wholeheartedly believe.

I was a bit of an oddball to most of the people I knew. I was young, but I still lived with my dad in one of the old treehouses. I was young, but I still went out hunting for creatures instead of getting involved in one of the many small industries now thriving in the city. Yet despite those two things, I was still filled with excitement for what the future held, instead of being held back by nostalgia for what once was. I suppose it came from being the daughter of the king of oddballs.

Seegan, my father, was deeply interested in the paranormal. Our house was filled to the brim with all sorts of strange objects: ugly dolls, strangely scented candles that wouldn't burn with rubber oil, black tar that had dried in the shape of tang bones, all kinds of skulls, and a strange black ring that was kept hidden underneath the floorboards. Dad had used to wear the ring when mom was still alive, but he took it off when she died and refused to wear it since. He never told me why.

Most of the city council, who were about as old as dad was, were fairly invested into mysticism as well, and often sought out his advice on all sorts of matters. I always rolled my eyes when dad would put on his gruffest expression while fiddling with his candles. He was a hack! I could never see anything meaningful in the dancing patterns of a flame's shadow, nor in the changing shapes of the stars in the sky. I knew dad couldn't either, but he would still tell the council what they should do to solve their problems. Sometimes, dad's solutions would work. Sometimes they wouldn't.

Still, I couldn't say that dad was a charlatan playing the council for fools. From what I could tell, he really did believe in all the mystical nonsense he said. Even when we were alone, he would constantly be trying to predict the future from the night sky, and he always insisted I take his divinations seriously. One of them even predicted my death should I not heed it. When it didn't come true, I was always quick to rub it in his face whenever he got all huffy about my views on such matters. He had a list of excuses for his failed prophecies a mile long, and not once did he think to consider what the real problem with his methods was. I tried to really set him straight a few times, but it was a lost cause.

The sky was a lovely shade of purplish blue as I climbed up to my house. It contrasted nicely with the orange glow of the many torches that lined the city streets. Those lights would be going out soon enough, but for the moment, it provided a nice view. After I reached the balcony leading inside the treehouse, I stopped to watch the many people below heading their own ways throughout the city. It was oddly calming to see how tiny everyone looked from afar, like they were pebbles being sifted around a little diorama of a town.

Dad was sitting at a table, deep in conversation with one of his friends when I arrived. His friend, whose name escaped me, was just as interested in the occult as dad was, and they would often spend long nights talking about mysteries they had not yet unraveled. Boon was there too, although I couldn't imagine why. He had no taste in either shamanistic rituals or lizard hunting.

"You're late, Kasha," Seegan grunted as I opened the door.

"Oh well," I said. He had no reason to care if I was late or not; I was an adult now, after all.

He waited a moment before he began speaking again, his mouth contorting into odd expressions as if he was chewing his words before he spoke them.

"Kasha, I've been waiting to talk to you about this for a long time, but I always put it off. For years, I avoided telling you about this, because I didn't think you were ready for it. I didn't want to put all that responsibility on you. But now..."

I didn't reply. This spiel was completely new to me, and I was interested in finding out what had made dad so worried. I grabbed a chair and joined him at the table.

"I'm getting old, Kasha. Old, weary, and less sure of myself. Ever since your mother died, in fact, I knew... I knew I wasn't able to handle this task. But I know you can."

Dad then walked over to a spot on the ground, and pulled one of the planks out. He came back with the old ring he once wore. It was neither pretty nor ugly, just plain and set with a black stone.

"Take it, Kasha. I have faith that you will put it to good use."

I took the ring from him. It was surprisingly heavy.

"Kasha. I must ask that you take on the role I failed at many years ago. I must ask that you become a Traveler."

"A traveler?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

Dad took in a deep breath. "Travelers are... how would you say... well, they travel. Between worlds."

I sighed. "Oh, dad. I thought you were being serious here for a moment. Don't tell me this is more of your magic hocus pocus-"

Dad abruptly got up and slammed his fists on the table. "It is not hocus pocus, Kasha!" he snarled. "It's real. Realer than you could ever imagine."

I still didn't believe him, but for his sake, I decided to pretend to take him seriously. "Alright, dad. What is it you want me to do, anyway?"

Dad didn't look fully convinced, but he relaxed and sat back down. "I want you to... well, tomorrow, I'll tell you how to go from here to somewhere else, where you're needed. Once you get there, you'll understand what to do."

"Uh, sure. Is that all?"

"For now." Dad got up with his friend and walked outside, where they resumed their lengthy discussion.

"What was the deal with that?" I asked Boon. "From the sound of his speech, I thought he was talking about something really heavy. And how do you fit into all of this, anyway?"

Boon shrugged. "Don't ask me. I know about this as much as you do. Possibly even less. Seegan said he'd explain my role in this stuff later on, but I don't know what that's going to be about. Anyways, it's getting late. I should be going now."

Boon left, leaving only the quiet whisperings of the wind audible in the house. I stood in the room for a moment, then decided to head for my room. It was pretty late, and a long day walking and looking for tangs had left me tired. Not exhausted, but tired and ready enough for sleep.

Dad's words came to mind to me again as I laid down on my bed. 'People who travel between worlds'. It made me smile. The concept itself was ridiculous, but I wouldn't have signed up for such a job even if it was real. To me, there was only one world, and that world was big enough for me. That world was Eelong, and it would always be my home. It was a place of great, towering trees, giant flowers that smelled like rotting meat, slavering beasts with an insatiable hunger and a terrific sense of smell, great cliffs with silvery metals hidden away beneath the dark rock, and even bright beaches and great oceans rumored to exist far, far away. It was my home, and it was full of mystery and excitement and familiarity and comfort and so many other things. I had never once wanted to leave it.

The next day was overcast, with thick, low clouds covering the band of sunlight that struggled to pierce through them. It had already rained earlier in the morning, judging from the puddles covering the balcony, and it looked ready to start raining again at any time. It was bad weather for going on a trip through the wilderness, which was exactly what dad wanted me to do.

"Follow this map," dad said, handing me a thickly detailed slab of rubber tree bark. "It will take you to a valley, where a trail will lead you to a grotto that hides a stone passage into the ground. Do not attempt to enter this passage. Instead, speak this word to it. 'Veelox'. Do not forget this word. Repeat it to me, so that I can be sure you know it."

"Veelox," I said. What in the world was a Veelox?

"Good. Take this as well," he said, giving me a folded up scroll. "It contains instructions that won't make sense until you say the word. Good luck."

I shrugged and began heading out the door.

"Oh, and Kasha... be careful, won't you?" he said, his expression softening.

"Uh, sure," I said. I didn't understand his sudden sentimentality, for I had been on many trips outside of the city before without him caring. I guess he really had taken all this traveling business to heart. No doubt he would be displeased when his precious stone tunnel failed to do anything to me.

I left the city, carrying with me a small pack filled with dried quall meat, my old hunting spear, and the things dad have given me. The map was quite old, dating back to when Leeandra was a quarter of its current size, and it was directing me out to the north, near the spot where mom had been killed. Maybe that was why dad had looked so sad. Thinking about her put far more of a damper on my mood then the weather did.

As the day grew longer, sunlight began to break through the clouds. The light helped me a little in navigating the land, but I was already quite familiar with it. I had already been out in this area many times before, as it was the place I liked hunting in the most. Hunting was something I did for revenge, and clearing the place where my mother had been killed of the filthy tangs felt the most satisfactory to me.

Soon, I reached the valley my dad had talked about. The trail he had talked about was hard to spot, being a tiny strip of dirt that peeked out from the thick bushes and grasses that layered the ground. I followed it to the roots of a dead tree, thick and squat, that partially covered the entrance of a hollow beneath the ground. A strange star shaped symbol was carved on the tree, whose meaning I could not determine. I crawled underneath the roots and found myself in a dark, cramped area. After my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw the stone tunnel my dad had talked about. It was rather unremarkable, and certainly too cramped for me to squeeze through. There was no doubt that it went absolutely nowhere.

"Well, this is it, I guess," I muttered. "Veelox. There."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, I heard a loud rumbling fill the air. At first, I thought the tree was falling over, and made to leave, only to discover that I was being pulled back towards the tunnel by an invisible force. I looked back at the tunnel and saw that it was changing. The stones were moving apart, growing wider, exposing a tube of light that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. I wasn't certain of whether I screamed or unleashed a barrage of profanity next; I only knew that I tried everything I could to escape the tunnel and none of it worked. It dragged me in and pulled me away, into the unknowable. Into a stream of light, shapes and sounds that meant nothing to me, as I tumbled away from the grotto.