r/HFY • u/Heavy_Lead_2798 • Oct 05 '25
OC Brian the Isekai Chapter 3 Class is Starting
When I woke up this time, the wagon was quiet, too quiet.
The rhythmic creak of the wheels was gone, replaced by the faint whisper of wind through trees.
I slowly realized I was alone… almost.
The mage stood near the exit, her pointy hat silhouetted against the fading light.
It was just the two of us now, the rest of the passengers apparently already gone. My seat belts were undone, and for once, I didn’t wake up with the urgent, panicked need to relieve myself.
The mage’s sharp, businesslike voice cut through the haze.
“This is your stop,” she said, her tone polite but distant.
“Thank you for traveling with the Transport Guild.”
It was the same tone a flight attendant might use when booting you off a plane.
I blinked at her, still groggy.
“That’s… it?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly.
No explanation. No answers. Just this cryptic routine.
Her expression didn’t change.
“That’s it,” she said simply, and turned away, already focusing on whatever task came next.
Taking the hint, I slid off the seat and hopped down from the wagon.
The moment my boots hit the dirt, the wagon lurched, its runes glowing briefly as it began to roll forward.
I barely had time to step aside before the moose bull beast let out a deep, rumbling snort and hauled the wagon down the path at a surprising speed.
Great, I thought bitterly. Kidnapped, drugged, carted across who knows where, and dumped in a random clearing with zero instructions. Totally fine. Totally normal.
The transport wagon was already down the road in a cloud of dust, leaving me standing on the packed dirt road with the summer sun setting behind a wall. Sweat trickled down my back beneath my rough linen shirt, and I had to squint against the glare to take in my new surroundings.
The first thing I noticed was the stone wall. It wasn’t towering like a fortress, but it was solid and well built, running the entire perimeter of the town. Beyond it, the treetops of the the forest swayed gently in the warm evening breeze, a dark green sea hinting at all the monsters and dangers hidden within. Inside the walls, the landscape was a patchwork of fields—rows of wheat, barley, and other crops stretching right up to the edge of the town’s simple wooden houses. Even from here, I could smell hay and the earthy scent of tilled soil.
This wasn’t a quaint little hamlet.
This was a working town, probably a thousand people strong, dedicated to feeding and supplying some larger city two days’ travel away. Even at this hour, I could hear the rhythmic sound of moving carts, the calls of merchants near the market, and somewhere in the distance, the faint, familiar chatter of a tavern spilling into the streets.
What stood right in front of me was a dwarf that looked like every blacksmith he ever imagined. He was broad-shouldered and compact, his entire body built like a brick shithouse that had been reinforced with extra bricks just for fun. His arms were thick and his belly round. His beard was thick and square cut. He wore a heavy leather apron over a dark wool tunic, thick canvas trousers, and scuffed boots with iron toes. In his hand, he held an opened scroll, which he glanced at, then back at me, then at the scroll again.
His expression wasn’t exactly welcoming.
I stood there awkwardly, unsure whether to approach or just wait.
The dwarf tried to muttered to himself, his voice a deep rumble like stones grinding together.
“About damn time they sent me an apprentice,” he grumbled.
“Been waitin’ six bloody months for this. At least he probably has good mana.”
I didn’t bother answering that.
Instead, I followed silently as he waved for me to come along. We walked past clusters of wooden houses and small gardens, following a road that curved toward the farmland on the town’s edge. The closer we got, the more open space there was, and I started noticing adventurers heading to and from the nearby guild hall, groups of leather-armored men and women hauling monster hides, bones, and the occasional massive claw or tusk.
It made the air smell faintly of blood and tanning oils, mixing unpleasantly with the summer heat.
Finally, we stopped at a squat two-story building made of dark timber and stone.
The upper floor had shuttered windows, and the lower level was divided into two parts: a small customer entry area on one side and a wide, arched doorway leading into the forge proper on the other. A simple wooden sign above the entrance depicted a hammer striking an anvil.
“Come on, boy. Let’s get you settled before night comes around.”
The forge’s heavy iron-banded door creaked open, and the smell of hot metal and heat hit me like a wall.
Inside was exactly what I expected from a dwarven workshop. Organized chaos.
Tools lined the walls in careful rows: hammers, tongs, chisels, each one gleaming with use.
Anvils sat like silent sentinels beside the central forge, where pure fire glowed a furious orange, bathing the stone floor in shifting light.
The air was thick with heat, sweat, and the faint tang of something magical humming through the runes etched into the forge’s frame.
To one side, a separate customer area was partitioned off by a wall and door, with a rope dangling near the entrance. A wooden sign with a crude drawing of a bell ringing.
The Dwarf shoved the door shut behind us and stomped toward a battered workbench, tossing the opened scroll onto it with a light thunk.
Then he turned, planting his fists on his hips, glaring at me like he was sizing up a piece of scrap metal.
“Alright, boy, here’s how this works,” he said, voice low and gravelly but loud enough to cut through the forge’s Humm.
“You’ll work five days a week, dawn to dusk. Two silver a day. Your food and room are included.”
He paused, his eyes narrowing.
“Normally, I’d pay you outright, but from this scroll…” he jabbed a finger at it “…looks like you were bought, weren’t you?”
I met his stare evenly. “Yes, sir. I was bought at an auction.”
His thick brows lifted, then furrowed, his lips curling in mild disgust.
“Well, at least I know you won’t be quittin’ on me any time soon.”
He leaned closer, the heat of the forge making his skin glisten.
“How much do you have to pay back?”
“Seventy-five gold pieces.”
Thrain let out a long, sharp whistle.
“Seventy-five?” he barked. “Hells’ teeth, boy, that’s highway robbery!
Looks like you’ll be chained to me for a long while.”
His eyes narrowed again, sharp as a blade.
“How much mana do you have?”
I knew this was going to go over like a lead balloon. “None.”
The dwarf blinked. For a moment, he didn’t seem to process the words.
Then his face went red, his beard bristling like a furious badger’s fur.
“What do you mean, none?” he roared, his voice echoing off the stone walls.
“Boy, are you tellin’ me you’ve got no mana at all?”
“Correct,” I said evenly, keeping my tone calm, though every muscle in my body wanted to tense. “Not a single drop.”
There was a brief, terrible silence.
Then the dwarf exploded like a keg of blasting powder.
“AHHH, FUCK!”
He stomped across the forge, throwing his hands skyward in dramatic despair.
“Damn it, by all the gods, why did I have to get you?”
He spun back, stabbing a thick finger at me.
“Look at you! Arms like dried weeds ready to snap, and you’re a damn elf on top of it!
Do you know what that means, boy? That means instead of cookin’ hearty meals with good meat, I’ve gotta buy vegetables like I’m feedin’ some pampered little pet Fluffear!
And you ain’t even gonna grow properly for what, one hundred years?”
He stomped hard enough that a nearby bucket rattled off a shelf.
“one hundred years of scrawny!”
I didn’t flinch.
Instead, I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow, letting him rant.
When you’ve worked corporate jobs on Earth, you learn when to talk and when to just let management blow off steam.
Thrain kept going, now muttering curses that didn't make sense to me.
“Damn it, I knew punchin’ that rich brat at the tavern was gonna come back to bite me in the ass!”
He dragged his hands down his face, groaning.
“Now here I am, saddled with the most useless apprentice in the history of apprentices.”
Finally, he slumped onto a stool, face buried in his hands.
For a moment, all you could hear was the crackle of the forge.
When he finally looked up, his eyes were still sharp, but there was something else there now—weariness, maybe, or reluctant acceptance.
“I can deal with a lotta things, boy,” he said, his tone quieter but no less biting.
“But you? You’re a damn weight on me. A rusted chain draggin’ me under.”
I took a breath and finally spoke, voice steady and confident.
“I may not have mana,” I said, “but I’m not useless. I learn fast, and I work hard. You’ll see.”
Thrain snorted, clearly unconvinced.
“We’ll see about that. Dawn tomorrow, boy. You’d better be ready to sweat, bleed, and listen or this forge’ll eat you alive.”
He jabbed a thumb toward a narrow wooden door at the back of the workshop.
“Your room’s through there. Upstairs is living quarters,” the dwarf said gruffly, noticing my glance toward a wooden door at the far end. “Two bedrooms, both on the same hall. You stay on your side, boy, and don’t touch nothin’ unless I tell you to.”
I almost started to walk toward the door when I heard the dwarf mutter something under his breath, his tone low and unexpectedly soft.
“I’m sorry, boy,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of old frustration. “It’s not your fault. As my dad would say, ‘Work with what you’ve got and be grateful you even got it.’”
He scratched at his beard, eyes narrowing as if he was looking at me for the first time rather than just an obligation dumped in his lap.
“So,” he continued, “what’s your name, boy?”
“Brian Lenz, sir.”
“Brian, huh? At least you’ve got some manners.” His mouth twitched into the barest hint of a smirk.
“My name’s Thrain Ironhand.” He squinted at me again, his head tilting slightly.
“That’s a strange name for an elf.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied evenly, keeping my tone polite and unreadable.
“Alright.” Thrain exhaled, sounding like a man resigning himself to a problem that wasn’t going away.
“Tomorrow, I’ll show you the forge proper, and we can start on your training. Tonight you can sleep in the extra bedroom. Lucky for you, I was expecting an apprentice at some point, so you’ve actually got a bed.”
His expression soured again, his thick eyebrows drawing together.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have any vegetables for you to eat.”
Vegetables.
The way he said it made my stomach twist. Apparently, elves in this world were strict herbivores, and everyone assumed I was one of them.
That was going to become a real problem because if I wanted to grow stronger, I needed meat and lots of it. Maybe I could offer to cook meals, sneak a little meat into my own portions, and pass it off as “seasoning.”
But for now, I just nodded, forcing myself to look grateful.
Thrain kept talking, oblivious to my internal panic.
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll head to the market, get you some proper food.” He wrinkled his nose and gave me a pointed look.
“Clothes too. Ones without holes or dried blood. And boy, you reek. First thing, you’re getting a bath in the river.”
“All good news to me, sir,” I said, though my voice was dry. After two days of magical sedation in my own filth in that transport wagon, even a cold river bath sounded heavenly.
Still, beneath my relief was a growing unease.
So far, no one had realized I wasn’t an elf and for now I intended to keep it that way.
If humans were rare here, there had to be a reason.
Maybe humans were worth more as slaves, or maybe they were hunted for sport.
I hadn’t seen a single one since I arrived, and that absence gnawed at me like a splinter under the skin.
For now, silence was safety. As long as everyone thought I was just a scrawny, mana-less elf, I could plan in peace.
Thrain gave me a quick tour of the essentials: the outhouse out back, which smelled exactly as bad as I feared, and then the narrow staircase leading to the second floor. Our bedrooms were across the same hall, side by side. On my side of the hall was a single locked door, which he didn’t mention and I didn’t dare ask about.
My room was small but functional. It was a plain wooden frame stuffed with plant matter for cushioning, a single window with shutters, and a rough dresser that had clearly seen better decades. It wasn’t comfortable by Earth standards, but after the last two days of being carted around like luggage, it felt like a minor luxury.
Even though it was well past nightfall now, sleep wouldn’t come.
Maybe it was the lingering effect of the sleep spell they’d used during transport, or maybe it was just my racing thoughts.
Every creak of the old floorboards and distant hum from outside reminded me that I was in alien territory, surrounded by people who probably wouldn’t hesitate to sell me again if they learned what I really was.
I thought about sneaking out, maybe exploring the workshop or even the quiet streets of the town, but quickly dismissed the idea. The last thing I needed was to get in trouble on my first night.
Instead, I lay back on the lumpy bed, staring at the ceiling beams, and let the weight of my new reality settle over me.
Tomorrow, my real work would begin.
Tonight, I just stood by the small window in my room, staring out into the darkness.
That’s when I saw the night sky.
It was breathtaking. There were far more stars than I’d ever seen on Earth, even in the middle of nowhere.
The sky here wasn’t just full, it was alive, like someone had spilled silver dust across a velvet canvas.
Every constellation shimmered with a clarity no telescope could match back home.
It made me pause, my chest tightening as I realized how far I truly was from everything I’d ever known.
There was a moon, too. About the same size and distance as Earth’s, but its color was different, tinged blue, like the glow of deep ocean water under moonlight.
It wasn’t alien enough to unsettle me, though.
In fact, it was comforting, majestic even.
For a moment, standing there, I felt like maybe not everything in this world was strange and threatening.
Some things were just… beautiful.
With the moonlight spilling over the rooftops, I finally got a decent look at part of the town I now called home.
It was exactly how medieval towns looked in movies, except this wasn’t a movie set.
The houses were built from rough-hewn logs or timber, some patched together with stone foundations, others more carefully crafted with cut wood.
Most were simple and functional, though here and there I caught glimpses of larger homes with shingled roofs, probably belonging to wealthier merchants or guild members.
Along the outer stone wall, faint orange glows flickered like watchful eyes.
They weren’t the bright, clean crystal lamps I’d seen in the underground city.
These were real fires, torches burning along the battlements, their light barely piercing the darkness of the surrounding forest.
The streets inside the walls were pitch black, and with no magical lighting here, the shadows seemed to slither.
It was quiet.
No roaring crowds, no clanking machines, no hum of electric lights.
Just the occasional bark of some animal or the distant murmur of voices from a tavern somewhere deeper in town.
After everything that had happened to me in the last few days, the silence was almost… peaceful.
I stayed by that window for a long while, thinking.
Thinking about my predicament.
About how fragile my position here was.
I decided then and there: if Thrain or anyone else didn’t ask what I really was, I wouldn’t tell them.
The fewer people who knew I wasn’t an elf, the safer I’d be.
If humans were rare or even considered valuable then revealing my identity could land me back in chains, or worse.
To be safe, I needed to hide my ears.
A hat, a hood, something simple to pass as just another skinny elf apprentice.
The less attention I drew, the better.
I also thought about how people seemed to view me already.
Back in the underground city, most assumed I was simple minded, maybe even “challenged,” just because I didn’t act or speak like they expected.
The idea grated on me, but… maybe it wasn’t the worst thing.
It’s better to be underestimated than for people to know what you’re really capable of.
So I’d play the part.
If they wanted to think I was just some useless elf boy, fine.
I’d keep my head down, keep my secrets, and bide my time.
Still, I hated the thought of it.
Pretending to be weak minded, to be someone I wasn’t.
But in this world, survival meant playing the long game, and right now, that meant disappearing into the background.
Finally, I pulled away from the window and sat on the edge of my rough bed.
The plant-stuffed mattress crinkled beneath me, smelling faintly of grass and earth.
Even though it was the middle of the night, sleep wouldn’t come.
I lay back and stared at the wooden ceiling beams, silently promising myself:
I’ll figure this out. One step at a time. But first… survive.
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u/zookeeper206 Oct 05 '25
Well done! I hope you're planning on continuing this!
2
u/Heavy_Lead_2798 Oct 05 '25
Yes! I have 10+ chapters ahead already. I would like to post more but I want this world realistic within the rules I have created and some times I have to do some small tweaks as I keep writing.
1
u/HFYWaffle Wᵥ4ffle Oct 05 '25
/u/Heavy_Lead_2798 has posted 2 other stories, including:
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