An American Iseai'd

An American Isekai'd

Prologue

A sudden jarring slowly brought his consciousness back to the surface. How long had he been asleep? He could feel the cold air blowing across his face, his legs near numb from exposure. A loud wooden creak and another sudden jarring told him he was moving, and the smell of horse filled his nose. He was in a wooden cart, he surmised. His head hurt, but the confusion of his circumstance allowed him to ignore the pain.

As he opened his eyes, he was greeted with a bright whiteness that made them hurt. Snow covered the ground and the trees around him. He tried to shield himself from the brightness with his hands, but found that they had been tied together tightly. As he sat up and looked blearily around, he saw four other figures in the cart with him.

The driver, who was silent, steered the horse down a trodden path. In the back with himself was a large dirty-blond man with a wild look in his eyes; a skinnier man with brown hair, wearing a nervous expression; and perhaps the most odd, another brown-haired man with a cloth gag stuffed into his mouth.

The blond man noticed him stirring and turned his head toward him.

"Hey you, you're finally awake..."

Nah, just fucking with you.

This is my first story and I hope you will enjoy it. I just want to glaze over a few things before we begin.

First, the word "isekai" /ˈisəkaɪ/ (EE-suh-kigh). This is a Japanese word that, for those of you who are not complete geeks, simply means "another world". Therefore, in English, when we change it into the verb form "isekai'd" it means "to be transported to another world". The method of transport is relevant only to the individual story and can include many different themes, from reincarnation and magic, to being trapped in a game, the list goes on. It is a popular genre in modern Japanese media and literature and is growing in the rest of the world. If you are a fan, you will probably recognize many tropes within the genre, but bear with me as this is only my first work.

The first chapter does not contain any scenes and is mostly just the setup of the story and some characters, so if you came just to fire a quick knuckle rocket, you will be disappointed. Chapter two will be more interesting, but my hope was to write a story that would still be good even if it didn't have sex in it.

Now onto the story.

This is a story of kingdoms, gods and magic, princesses, dragons and yes, probably a dungeon or two. It is also a story of love, hatred and plenty of... uh, "romance". But most of all, it is the story of a man who, despite being an awkward nerd with more than a few traumas, faces seemingly insurmountable obstacles and forever changes the world.

It's just too bad it won't be his own world.

Now we begin where most stories end. Because every beginning must first be preceded by an end. In this case, it's our Hero's end.

Chapter 1

A Lot Like Playdoh

White. Blindingly white. As if the purest snow reflecting the shining sun had enveloped the world, giving off an almost golden hue. It gave the air of complete and infinite emptiness, like a blank page or one of those secret government facilities you see in movies and it was in this emptiness that Zeke suddenly found himself.

Wha... Where am I? How'd I fall asleep...?... Am I still asleep?

He thought. He looked around the expanse and tried to gain his bearings, but could see nothing but the whiteness around him. He tried to raise his hands before his eyes to have some contrast, but to his shock, his hands were no longer there. In fact, his whole body was missing. He couldn't feel his legs or arms and, for a moment, he went into a panic.

What the hell's going on? Is this some kinda dream?

His thoughts raced and he tried to call out to the emptiness, but no sound came out, probably due to lack of a mouth. This further exacerbated his panic.

Am... Am I dead?

He wondered.

"You are correct." A voice, not his own, came from somewhere around him, though he couldn't see from where.

Zeke spun around, or he thought he did, trying to locate the voice. However, the room, or space, or whatever it was, still held only blinding emptiness. His panic increased even more.

"Over here," the voice came again.

He spun back around, following where the sound had come from. Behind him, then stood a strange figure that was barely visible, a mere translucent outline of what he assumed was a person, floating in the emptiness. He strained his vision to try to get a clearer view, some detail, but the more he tried, the more the silhouette seemed to morph and change. At times it appeared masculine and at others, feminine; never quite fully forming one or the other before shifting once again.

"Who...or what are you?" he questioned, his voice suddenly ringing out.

"Welcome Ezekiel McGrath," the figure said, "I am sure you have a lot of questions, but first you should know that, unfortunately, you are, indeed, dead."

Though Zeke could hear him speaking, the figure's mouth, or where a mouth should've been, never once moved, creating an eerie impression that just further unnerved him.

"Whaddya mean? What happened? How'd I die?" Zeke tried to think back and remember. He remembered living in the mountains of Virginia near the shared borders of Tennessee and North Carolina; he remembered his childhood and his parents and that they had died a few years ago in an accident. He remembered his house and car, but the last thing he could remember was watching the news one morning.

There had been a report that heavy rains were coming and people were being advised to seek higher ground due to potential flash flooding. He remembered the darkened sky and clouds that just seemed to burst and pour buckets of water down. The rest after that, though, was a blur.

"Why can't I remember anythin'?" he asked the being. He couldn't quite make it out on the featureless face, but he felt as if the being softened at his question.

"Memories of traumatic deaths are often erased, if they are ever even recorded at all. It is an unbearable strain on a soul and leads to problems with the psyche or irrational phobias in the next life when they are reborn," replied the figure.

"You drowned in a flood," they continued, "but, before your death, you saved the lives of your neighbor and his family, as well as a stranger you didn't even know. It was your act of selflessness that led you to be here, instead of your soul rejoining the collective and cycling through to be reborn."

As the figure spoke of his untimely demise, faint images of his neighbor, Frank, and his wife and children standing on a rooftop floated into his mind, along with another image of a teenage girl with dark brown hair stuck in a small car with water lapping at her shoulders.

"The girl you rescued went on to create a cure for a terrible illness and credited you for the inspiration and drive. It saved millions of lives. As such, you are not only responsible for the five lives you directly saved, but also, in de facto, the lives after that. It is worthy of great praise, though only she remembered your face."

Zeke felt a small sense of relief wash over him. "Well, I guess I should be happy my life wasn't wasted. I'd spent a few years as a firefighter and paramedic in my twenties, thinkin' it would help me pick up women. The only thing it really got me, though, was an alcohol addiction for ten years. I managed to save a few people, but lost more." Zeke paused for a moment, remembering the people he had watched die, or were already dead when he had gotten to the scene. It pained him.

"There are some things you can't forget. I didn't regret it, but... I couldn't cope, either. After that, I became reclusive and focused all my time on my hobbies, tryin' to keep myself distracted. I never even got married. Seems like I still had the spirit, though my body couldn't quite make it," he thought out loud.

"I'm glad they're alive, but I'm still havin' a hard time understandin'. The Collective? What're you talkin' about? This seems surreal. Are you sure I'm not dreamin'?" He asked, "You're also speakin' in past tense. How long's it been since I died?"

He could no longer hold back his questions and they spilled from him, each one leading to the next. He needed something to distract himself from his memories. From the pain.

The figure started to glow and a golden light appeared at its edges. Suddenly, before him, appeared a small table, starting with an outline like the figure, but then filling in with more detail. The contrast of the new object helped to lessen the emptiness of the space and put Zeke a little at ease.

"Let us have a seat," they said. "I will try and explain as best I can, though I am going to simplify it. Our time here is not infinite." replied the mysterious being.

They then sat before the table in a cross-legged fashion and beckoned him over. Having no body with which to sit, Zeke merely floated over and placed himself on the opposite side.

Much in the same way the table had appeared, a large, ornate tea set, complete with cups, saucers, and a plate of what Zeke assumed were some type of cookies materialized in front of them. The figure lifted the pot and poured themself a cup. Then, lifting the cup up by the saucer beneath it with one hand and holding the handle of the cup with the other, took a small sip and set it back onto the table.

"That's good tea," they mused, "I am sorry you can't have any in your current state. Though, I hope we can enjoy a cup together in the future. Forgive me if I am being rude."

"That's alright," replied Zeke, "not big on hot tea, anyway."

"A shame. Now to answer some of your questions," the figure began. "No, this isn't a dream, though it could be considered to be similar. As I have said already, you have passed on from your world. This was around a hundred of your Earth-years ago. It takes some time to transfer souls, you see. Normally, your soul would be cleansed and added back into the collective, where it would remain until it is used to create and rebirth a new life."

"Whaddya mean by cleansed and added to the collective?" inquired Zeke.

"Your memories would be added to the Archive and your soul would merge with other souls into a single mass that is then recycled from and used to fill the body of a new life," the figure responded.

"Kinda like when you mix different colors of play-doh... huh," Zeke remarked. "So, why am I different? Who exactly are you?"

"You are different because of your deeds in the moments before your death. Your act of self-sacrifice and altruism sets you apart. I beseeched the Supreme Being to remove you, temporarily, from the cycle of life and death in your world and bring you here. In part to reward you, but also because I have my own goals and a request of you. My name is Ignaxi and I am what you would refer to as a god. My domain is craftsmanship, knowledge, and artistry," they explained.

"Wait, wait, wait. This is a lot to digest. So, you're God?" Zeke asked, dumbfounded.

"

A

god," Ignaxi corrected, "there are more than one, though the one your monotheistic religions refer to as "God" is probably based on the one we call the Supreme Being. It is the one who brought matter, energy, the cosmos, and all its rules into existence. We were created after that to be something like managers of a sort."

Ignaxi paused, and took another sip of his tea before continuing. "Your world is known to us as Origin. It was the first world, created by the Supreme themself, and its inhabitants are used as a basic blueprint for life in other worlds. Once, there were many gods who roamed Origin. However, the inhabitants of the world became corrupt and wars were fought both between the gods and in their names and threatened to destroy everything.

So, the Supreme Being sent destruction upon the corrupt and locked away the magic that was once abundant. They then forbade the gods from descending back onto the world, or interfering directly with it ever again. The surviving peoples evolved and interbred with other similar species over time, and became what they are today, the species you call Homo Sapien... humans."

"This Supreme Being... What kind of thing is he, er... it, or whatever?" Zeke asked.

"Not even we know fully. They have never spoken or revealed themself to us directly. They speak to us through another being, we call Oracle. It is Oracle, who has access to the Archive and brings us messages from the Supreme Being. If I had to guess, they would be the embodiment of the concept of infinity and the four omnis, much like we, ourselves, are the embodiments of differing concepts," Ignaxi answered, and placed his saucer of tea back onto the table. They picked up a cookie and, even though their mouth never opened, took a bite of it.

Zeke remained quiet for a few moments to digest the information that was given to him. The mysteries of the universe had been laid bare and though it was fairly simple to understand, the gravity of it still gave him pause. As he mused, he realized he still had yet to learn what exactly he was doing here, or what this god may need from him.

"You said somethin' 'bout your own goals. Whaddya mean by that? Do each of you have your own world or somethin'?" he pondered out loud.

"Some of us do and some of us share worlds. After Origin was closed to us, many drifted off to found their own worlds, shaping them to their own tastes and protecting them from other, less agreeable gods. I have one that I share with five others. Tell me, did you play a lot of video games?"

The question puzzled Zeke, it seemed like a big swing of topics.

"I guess as much as any geek. I was born when they first came out in the seventies. 'Fore that, you had to go to arcades to play. Atari came out when I was two. Thankfully, my parents were somewhat well off and I had one growin' up until the Nintendo came out when I was eleven. Since then, I've owned every console that came out. I switched to PC as my main platform right after I got outta college, though," Zeke reminiscenced.

Ignaxi mused for a moment. "I also happen to be a major fan, being the god of knowledge, and therefore, technology. While we are not allowed to interfere directly in your world, we are allowed to observe it. The things you humans have done on Origin in the past few thousand years or so is astonishing. As such, myself and a few other gods created a world to act much like the RPGs of your world. I think you will enjoy it there," they said.

"So you want me to go live in your world?" Zeke asked. "Is there some sorta, special mission, or quest I need to undertake? Maybe defeatin' a Demon Lord or somethin' like that? I've never been in a real fight before."

"While there is a race known as Demons in our world and they are ruled by an emperor, no, you will not be asked to specifically defeat them," Ignaxi began. "We do have a task for you, however. Though we cannot descend upon our world in our current form, we do have the ability to assume a mortal body and live amongst the people if we so choose. In fact, there are four of us that are currently residing there. That is what leads us to call upon you."

Ignaxi paused for a moment, seemingly contemplating their words. After a short time, they continued their explanation.

"It has been around two hundred years since they left and were born into the world. Which is odd, since they went as humans and your species don't tend to live that long. Put frankly, they are missing."

"Whaddya mean missin'? Aren't they gods? Seems like you wouldn't be able to miss somethin' like that," Zeke asked.

"Well, it is a bit complicated to explain. The only way to enter or exit a world is through birth and death and, since we are not allowed to interfere with our worlds outright, when we are born, our power is mostly sealed until the mortal body we inhabit dies. In our world, in particular, we have also come to some agreed upon rules. One such rule is that when we decide to be born and while we live, we have no memory of being a god. It is in this way that we reduce the temptations of trying to abuse our power, but still conduct an audit of sorts about how life for the average person is," Ignaxi clarified.

"I thought gods were supposed to be omniscient," Zeke said. "Why couldn't you just, ya know, look into, like, a magic mirror or a pool o' water or somethin'?"

Ignaxi laughed, a heartwarming sound that reminded Zeke of his grandfather.

"You have watched too much television. There are a lot, and I mean a lot, of people down there. It would be like trying to find a specific needle in a needle stack. We have power and knowledge, to be sure, but only pertaining to the concepts that we embody and while we are there, we can only use a minute fraction of that power. It isn't enough to stand out. It's subtle. The most we can do outside of the established skill system is grant our blessings."

"So then why do ya'll go down?" asked Zeke.

"Various reasons," replied the god. "Boredom, curiosity, perhaps some sort of goal or long-term plan. It depends on the god and their mood, mostly. Some of us even rotate so we can report on the conditions. I was there about a hundred years ago, myself, to find out how technology was progressing, but I wasn't impressed. They seem to be stuck in a state similar to your world's medieval era. That is another reason I requested a soul from Origin. I was hoping, perhaps, you could share some of your world's ideas to help move it along."

Zeke took note of Ignaxi's ulterior motive, but saved it for later as another question came to him.

"If you can't find 'em, how am I supposed to be able to?" Zeke inquired rather skeptically.

"Do not worry, I will assist in that. You are not bound by the rules we have set for ourselves, and you will retain your memory. As the god of knowledge, I am the one who designed the skill and ability system that is used by the various beings of the world. As such, there is an ability called Aura Sense that one can obtain rarely through rigorous practice or simple luck. I will bestow it upon you as part of my blessing," Ignaxi said.

Lifting their tea cup, they took another sip and placed it back down before continuing.

"The mana of gods is fundamentally different from others. It shines with a golden hue, but only those who have both the Aura Sense ability and have received a blessing are capable of seeing it and we do not give our blessings easily."

Zeke floated in silence for what seemed like a few minutes, but it was hard to judge the flow of time in this place. As he was processing his situation and all of the information that he had received since coming here, Ignaxi drank some more of their tea and finished the cookie, patiently waiting for the next question. When none came, they spoke once again.

"Well, if you are satisfied, then we shall begin the next process of your reincarnation. You will be allowed to create your own body. It will, of course, be what you look like only after you have grown into it, as we can't skip the aging process, per se."

"Hol' up... I get to do a character creation?" Zeke asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

In his past life he had been an average-looking guy. He kept up with his daily exercise, but he was no Fabio by any means and he was kind of short at only five-foot-ten-inches (178 centimeters) tall. Here, he was being told that he could look however he wanted and the ideas immediately flooded his mind.

"Yes, however, the only race you will be able to choose is human. It is the race your soul is most compatible with since you have never been to this world, and the one that will allow for the most freedom. The other races, unfortunately, are not looked upon highly in most places, but perhaps, you will be able to change that perspective while you are there," Ignaxi told him, with a hint of indignation in their voice.