When they reached the village, Mark was unsurprised by what he saw. It was mostly a bunch of straw huts, most like a Native American settlement or the homes of tropical islanders.

The villagers all stopped what they were doing and stared at Mark and Daphne as they walked by, in awe and with a little bit of fear. Mark was clearly a warrior walking in with one of their own, but the all black outfit with no markings probably didn’t help his appearance.

“It’s a human.”

“Never seen one in person before.”

“Are those weapons? I recognize the big one…”

The griffins around them were whispering to each other about Mark. He didn’t feel particularly uncomfortable, as he could easily shoot his way out if he had to. He still had twelve magazines of ammo for his rifle and all his pistol ammo, four magazines for his M45 and seven magazines for his Glock.

“Daphne!” an older voice chimed from up ahead.

Mark looked forward to see an obviously very old griffin shuffling toward them. Daphne ran ahead and embraced the old-timer, and they started talking some about her find in the forest. Mark, for his part, waited patiently for his medical treatment and food.

“Mother, this is James,” Daphne said.

“How do ya do,” Mark said with a big grin. The old one laughed and put its claw forward, which Mark took in his hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, I suppose” the old one said. “For a human, you seem like a tough one.”

“I assure you, I am the toughest one,” Mark said. The old one laughed again.

“You look pretty beat up and hungry,” it said. Mark nodded. “Follow me, me and my daughter will house you for now.”

“Thank you,” Mark said. He followed Daphne and her parent to their place of residence.

It was another hut, nice and warm inside, with straw and branch bedding laid out in a few places. There was a fireplace in the center with a cooking spit over it, and a small hole in the ceiling to let most of the heat escape to avoid lighting the place on fire.

“Sit. Daphne, send for the healer,” the old one said. Daphne nodded and complied, leaving the hut.

“Thank you for your help, uhhh…” Mark said. He wanted the old one’s name.

“You’re welcome,” the old one said. “And my name is Grelka.”

“Thank you, Grelka,” Mark said.

“We need to get to the business of this exchange,” Grelka said. She was very direct. Mark appreciated that. “What are ya good at?”

“Special jobs,” Mark said, nodding toward the weapon he was holding.

“I see,” Grelka said. Mark was glad she didn’t seem intent on asking him for anything.

“I have a very particular set of skills,” Mark said, a cultural reference lost on Grelka.

“I can tell. And they can do a great deal for this village,” Grelka said.

“Oh,” Mark said, disappointed. “How so?”

“Well, in exchange for food, medicine, and shelter, there’s some bandit snot too far from here that harass our village incessantly,” Grelka explained. “They steal our food and have crippled several of our gatherers.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that,” Mark said. “But this isn’t exactly a fair exchange.”

“I’m sorry?” Grelka said.

“You heal me up, keep me here, I go out, I get hurt again. Then it’s the same thing, over and over again,” Mark said. “How do I know you wouldn’t abuse this little cycle?”

“Hmph,” Grelka said. “Fine. We’ll give you ten silver coins in exchange as well.”

Mark smiled. Silver was worth a ton. Not as much as gold, but this didn’t seem like a gold-filled village. If each coin was say, two ounces, he could get a hundred per coin. Take out a few bandits, probably weakly armed, for food, shelter, physical care, and a thousand dollars? Sounded like a solid deal.

“Alright, Grelka,” Mark said. “I’ll do it.”

“I suppose you were a mercenary before, not a soldier?” Grelka asked, visibly annoyed with Mark.

“I was a Marine, actually,” Mark said. Grelka looked just as disdainfully at him as before. “But yes, I became a soldier of fortune.”

“For whom?” Grelka asked.

“Myself, of course,” Mark replied. Grelka sighed, but dropped the subject. Mark felt a tinge of pride at making her stop talking. He got the feeling that not many of these villagers had ever managed that.

He figured he didn’t have anything to worry about from this village, given the isolation, the obvious lack of desire to contact the greater world, and the fact this reality had changed significantly. The world governments he knew and worked against clearly weren’t going to be present from here on.

Any lesser man may have gone mad at what was going on, or started fretting about going home to where things made sense. If Mark learned anything working his new job, it’s that the world doesn’t make any sense and home is wherever you carry it with you. Loyalties change, trust is a rare commodity, and you have to look out for yourself. Maybe he died in the explosion and this is what awaited him after, or maybe it was some freak event science couldn’t explain. But he was a tough nut, and he wouldn’t crack under such light pressure.

“It works,” Grelka said. Mark smiled. “Go out and find Daphne. She is likely gabbing with the healer.”

Mark nodded and left the abode. When he walked out, he was greeted with the sight of dozens of griffins going about their daily business. It seemed that most of the initial awe had fallen out, and the birds were going back to their daily lives. Most of them still glanced at him out of the corner of their eyes, but they did their best to look like they were ignoring him.

Mark started walking around to look for Daphne. He instantly knew the strategy wasn’t going to work because he could barely tell any of the griffins apart. Some had different colorations, and the males and females were obviously different sizes, but within their respective genders, they all had about the same shape. It was like they were made using set pieces.

Mark walked up to one who was moving some hay around and waited for a moment. The griffin made no move to talk, even though he definitely knew that Mark was waiting. Mark grew impatient and leaned on the hay pile in front of him.

“I’m looking for Daphne, I think she was trying to find the healer,” Mark said.

“Can’t help,” the griffin grumbled. He threw hay onto the top of the pile, nearly hitting Mark in the face as he threw it.

“Great,” Mark said. “I found a village of turds.”

Mark kept walking, asking the occasional griffin where he might find Daphne or the healer. They all had one of two responses: telling him to get lost in some way, or asking him for compensation. It reminded him of a country he had to work with at one point, and he absolutely hated working with that country.

Given that no one wanted to be useful, Mark just kept walking around until he found a hut that looked like it may be a healer’s place of residence. Eventually, he came upon a small hut that had some bloody bandages on the ground outside. He waltzed over and barged into the hut.

“Daphne?” he asked.

In front of him, he saw two griffins holding each other close and looking at him with big eyes. They were terror-stricken at the sudden intrusion. Mark, for his part, just let the curtain behind him close and stared.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked with a coy smile.

“N-n-no,” Daphne said.

“I was just, uhh…” the healer started. “I was just, checking her thoroughly. In case YOU did something.”

Mark chuckled at the accusatory tone. Classic misdirection. Unfortunately, there was no one else here to fool.

“What you do in your time is your business,” Mark said. “I’m just here to close up some cuts and scrapes.”

“Oh. Well,” the healer said. The two griffins released each other. “Let’s take a look at you, then.”

Mark sat down so the healer could look at him. He wasn’t too badly hurt or anything; nothing he couldn’t walk away from; but free bandages are always nice. Plus, he could learn a thing or two about the area during the little exchange.

“So! Daphne,” Mark said. Daphne looked uncomfortably at him. “Tell me about the area. Help me help you.”

“What?” Daphne said.

“Your mommy tasked me with taking out those banditos,” Mark said. “What kind of landscape am I looking at?”

“Oh,” Daphne said. “It will be about the same as everywhere around here. Mountainous, forested, valleys…” As she described it, it sounded a lot like Afghanistan.

“Interesting,” Mark said.

“The bandits Grelka told you about live on a river,” Daphne explained. “They are upstream from where we gather our water. Sometimes, we find trash in the water from their pleasures. Usually wine bottles.”

“Hooligans,” Mark said.

“Indeed?” Daphne said, confused. “Anyway. I will show you later where the river is so you can follow that up to get to them. Then you can take them down easily.”

“Simple enough,” Mark said. The healer was poking at his back to check for cracked ribs or vertebrae. “What else can you tell me, about more than just this area?”

“The world?” Daphne said. “We are somewhat to the fringes of any large cities or nations. The most powerful nation is Equestria, where the ponies rule.”

“What?” Mark said. Daphne ignored him and continued.

“Celestia controls sunlight from there,” she went on. “To the west of that are vastly unknown lands, an area few wander because of the danger. East of Equestria is Griffinstone and the Dragonlands. Further east of that, you start seeing other griffin nations, like the East Griffin Empire. We are slightly past that. East of us and a but to the south, you have Saddle Arabia, land of horses.”

“What the hell?” Mark said. Again, Daphne ignored him.

“South of Equestria is strange lands, and far, far to the north is Yakyakistan,” Daphne said. Mark just blinked in disbelief. “There is a great deal more.”

“I think that’s enough,” Mark said. Ponies and horses? And Griffins? What kind of world was this?

“I don’t know much about the rest of the world, merely that it is there,” Daphne said. “You would have to go there to learn more.”

“Well, thanks,” Mark said. Daphne frowned at his obvious sarcasm.

“You seem alright,” the healer said. “No infections setting in or anything.”

“Thanks, doc,” Mark said.

“Go get some food and water,” the healer ordered. “Daphne, show him what he needs so he can do his job.”

Mark and Daphne left the hut to take care of the last few things before Mark would start preparing for the job. He knew it would be easy, but he always preferred to have everything in order first. Then he could do the work, get paid, and get out of here for better prospects somewhere else.

There were nations out there that could use him, and he could use their money. This bizarre course of events may have been the best thing he could have asked for.