The masked figure on the horse set its bow back around its shoulders and moved closer to Skye, allowing her to see a womanly figure and features.

“I could ask you the same question,” she said, her hazel eyes scanning over Skye curiously. “What are you doing here? Where are you from?”

“Woah now, hold on. I asked you first. Tell me who you are and I’ll tell you my name,” Skye said as she carefully stood up, holding her hands up defensively.

The woman raised a brow at her. “The people here call me Breeze,” she answered before pulling a dagger from her belt. “Now, if you would be so kind, who the h*ll are you?”

Skye’s eyes shifted to the dagger and she swallowed again. “M-My name is Skye Anderson.” Her hands trembled and she watched recognition flash across the woman’s eyes.

Breeze, as she called herself, put her dagger away and scooted forwards on her saddle before patting behind it. “Alright then, get on behind me. I’ll take you back to town.”

Skye looked at her rather confused. “Now hold on. You were just threatening me with a dagger, and now you’re offering to take me somewhere?”

“I don’t have to take you back to town,” the stranger replied simply. “Feel free to stay here with the wild beasts.” Her head inclined toward the creature she’d just killed.

“No, no, I’ll go with you,” Skye replied before heading over and getting on the back of the horse as best as she could.

Breeze raised a brow as she watched her. “Have you never mounted a horse?”

“This is my first time ever seeing a horse, I think,” she replied before wrapping her arms around the stranger's waist and going a little red as she did. “I’m settled now.”

Breeze nodded and then motioned for the horse to move forward. “Really, where are you from where you have never seen a horse?”

“I’m from Camden, Maine. A small tourist town in America,” she answered honestly, watching as the horse moved their hips closer to each other.

Breeze raised a brow again. “I am unfamiliar with all of those names and of where they are located.”

“Really? You’ve never heard of the United States? Where have you been, under a rock?” Skye asked with a small laugh.

“Please, I feel like you never seeing a horse is just as outlandish as me not knowing of this…union of states. Whatever that means.”

Skye smiled. “Then I guess we’ve got one thing in common. We’ve both been living under rocks.”

And although Skye couldn’t see her face, she could tell Breeze was smiling.

Their journey only lasted an hour, but when they rode into town, Skye looked around incredibly confused. “Now hold on, this isn’t Dublin,” she said as she looked around afraid.

“Dublin? No, this is Grimm. Under the rule of King Barron,” Breeze answered, saying the king’s name with slight venom in her tone.

“I-I’m sorry. I just—I’m starting to think I’m not in Kansas anymore…” Skye responded as she got off of the horse.

“Kansas?” Breeze asked, incredibly confused again.

“Nevermind. Thank you for at least bringing me to a populated area,” she responded before looking around again.

“Alright, good luck, Anderson. See you later,” Breeze noted before riding off again, dodging and weaving past guards and such.

Skye watched her leave confused before letting out a deep sigh. She was definitely going to miss her flight. But right now, that wasn’t what she was worried about as her stomach growled.

“Okay… food first, and then I figure out what the h*ll is going on.”

Walking off, she made her way past crowds of people and carts full of goods being pulled by horses. Her eyes scanned over this medieval era town with stone walled buildings and hay thatched roofs. The historian part of her brain was fascinated by all of this as she found herself distracted by the guard passing by. Their black armor with purple trim glistening in the sunlight.

“He really is quite something, isn’t he?” a voice sounded from beside her, which caused Skye to jump.

“What?” She then looked away from the armor and up to an African man with chiseled features, dreaded black hair and chocolate brown eyes. “Oh, no, I was looking at the armor, not the guy. He’s not my type.”

The man looked her over and grinned. “I see. Women more your speed?” he asked before his eyes widened slightly. “You look… familiar to me…”

Skye looked over to the man and she raised a brow. His tan skin contrasted with his long black hair. His heterochromatic pale green and purple eyes pierced through her as she tilted her head.

“I think I would have remembered meeting someone like you,” Skye replied.

The stranger hummed as he looked a little closer at her. “Hold on a moment. Your last name doesn’t happen to be…” He lowered his voice. “Anderson, would it?”

Skye’s eyes widened slightly. “Y-Yes- how did you know?” she asked, suddenly very defensive.

The man’s jaw dropped and he bowed his head slightly to her. “Antony Blue, master class of the Anderson heroes guild. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Skye went a little red when he bowed to her. “What are you doing? You don’t need to bow to me.”

Antony lifted his head and raised a brow at her. “Really?” He then took note of her attire and overall panicked disposition. “Do you know where you are?”

Skye shook her head. “The woman who got me safely through the woods says this place is called Grimm. But I was hoping for Dublin.”

“Do you know who your family is in these lands?” Antony asked, trying to get a read on her.

“N-No. Look, I’m nothing but a foster kid from America on a very bad mold trip and I’d just like some food,” she answered, her voice wavering slightly.

Antony gave her a concerned look before putting a hand on her back to lead her off. “Of course, come on. I’ll take you to the guild.”

Skye could only nod as she followed wherever he led her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was incredibly off. What in the h*ll was this place? And more importantly…what had she gotten herself into?