Ashley looked down at John for a moment, seeing the pain on his face. He was still unconscious, which was fortunate, for Ashley knew that despite his bravado, John was not fond of being hurt. She recalled with a tiny smile the first time John had broken his leg. It was in middle school, while playing football. He had been the biggest baby she had ever seen, acting as if he were seriously crippled and unable to do anything. He had gotten better since then, but still complained at the slightest cut or bruise.
“It was fortunate you and Dawyn came when you did,” Ashley said as she looked up at Anwyn. The druid had sat down across from her and was sorting through her leather sack. “John could have died without your aid.” She removed the wad of cloth from John’s mouth.
“It was not random chance that brought us to you. We had been told you were going to be in this area. We found the cave you emerged from and tracked you here. As for John,” Anwyn looked down at him, “he likely would have survived, but it would have taken him much longer to heal.” She proceeded to pull out a roll of bandages, which she tied around his chest, holding the pieces of cloth in place and freeing Ashley’s hands.
Dawyn and Jason emerged from the woods carrying several pieces of wood, which they stacked in a pile. Removing flint and tinder from his pouch, Dawyn struck a spark and started a fire a short distance away from where Anwyn and Ashley sat.
Dawyn handed out small wrapped bundles of rations, a dried meat of some sort. Ashley washed her hands in the water from a remaining canteen and took a bite of the meat. It tasted a little like beef jerky. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, and devoured the meat in moments.
Jason, for one of the first times since they had met the strangers, spoke, “Why do you say that John will heal quickly? He has a hole through his chest - that’s not likely to heal soon.” Ashley hadn’t realized he overheard their conversation.
Dawyn pointed a piece of jerky toward one of Jason’s arms. “Do you see those symbols? They’re more than just decorative. Somehow, and don’t ask me how, those symbols consist of millions of tiny machines called nanites. The nanites function autonomously to heal wounds quickly, regulate things like body temperature, weight and age and fight infections or illnesses. By morning, we will remove his bandage and the wounds should be healed without sign of even a scar.”
“Wait, you said age. How does that work?” Jason asked.
“I’m no scientist, but in my experience I have yet to age whilst I’ve had these machines inside me.” Seeing their surprised expressions that he too had nanites, he chuckled. “I may look like I’m of age with you three, but I’m actually closer to having seen fifty summers.”
“Does everyone have these nanites?” Ashley asked.
“No, you three are the only ones I know of, with the exception of my sister and I. If there are any others, they’ve done a splendid job of hiding the fact.” He offered another piece of jerky to her. “I believe it has something to do with us all coming from Earth.”
“What is this place?” Ashley asked as she accepted the jerky with a nod. “Is it another world? I don’t recognize any landmarks - all we saw were woods when we emerged from the cave.”
“Aye, it’s another world all right. I’ve traveled much of the northern hemisphere and none of the landmasses or landmarks resemble Earth. The people who settled on this world, called the Founders, named this planet Tar Ebon. You’re actually within the boundaries of the kingdom by the same name. Do you recall how you came here?”
“No, we don’t. One moment we were sitting at the local college studying, the next we were in total darkness. We stumbled around for a bit until we found a chamber with an altar and these strange bracelets.” She held up her wrists. “The bracelets melted into our skin and the door opened. Was that similar to your experience?”
“My sister and I appeared in a cabin in a hidden valley at the foot of the mountains. We too found those bracelets, along with several letters of instruction, which is the main reason we found you. There was also clothing and supplies awaiting us. We made our way out of the valley and have been here ever since.” By the light of the fire, Ashley could see a pained expression appear on Dawyn’s face.
“Is Anwyn,” Ashley gestured to where Anwyn sat next to Dawyn, “your sister?”
Dawyn laughed, a deep, hearty laugh. “No, Anwyn and I are not related, yet. We’re lovers. Back on Earth you would say we were dating.”
“Oh,” Ashley found herself blushing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
“Nor would you have had any way to know. No, my sister is alive, or at least I think she is, but she’s lost to me for the time being.” Dawyn cleared his throat. “So, what time period on Earth did you come from?”
“It was 2013 when we left. You?”
“The same. It was the 11th day of the month of May when we disappeared. I remember it because I had just taken my exams and it was my sister Bridgette’s birthday. I suspect you three disappeared on the same day?”
“Yes,” Jason chimed in. “It was May 11th, because we were studying for our exams. How long have you been on this world?”
“Just over twenty-six years,” Dawyn replied.
“Wait, so you were taken from Earth on the same day as us, yet you’ve been here over twenty-six years? How does that work?”
“I don’t understand it either. Whoever or whatever sent us here must have had a reason both for sending us here in the first place and so far apart in time. Your accents - you’re American?”
“Yes,” Ashley said. “You don’t have much of an accent, though it sounds vaguely British.”
“Aye, my sister and I are both from England.”
“Well, now that we have introduced each other and found out where everyone is from,” Anwyn interjected, “what is the plan, Dawyn? We go to town, let John rest for a few days, and then what?”
“Well, I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet, my dear. The letter, though, says that these three,” he indicated the others with the sweep of his hand, “have the potential to wield magic, so I think it would be best to take them to Alivia in Tar Ebon. You and I know next to nothing about what mages do, and she’s a master.”
“Wait, magic,” Jason said. “We don’t have any magic. Magic doesn’t exist.”
“I said ‘potential’, and yes, magic does exist. You just haven’t tapped into your potential yet,” Dawyn said. “Alivia will help you tap into your power and harness it. The fate of the world may rest on your ability to use your magic.”
“The fate of the world,” Ashley said. “All we want to do is go home.”
“I have wanted to go home for twenty-six years,” Dawyn snapped. “There is no way home. This is your home now, so I suggest you get used to it.”
“What about the slave master? Shouldn’t we find him and bring him to justice?” Anwyn’s eyes glowed faintly as she referred to the slave master. “I have a debt to settle with one of his mages.”
“The slave master will have his just rewards, Anwyn. But first, I feel that it’s important to get these three to Tar Ebon with haste. Whatever they’re meant to do, it starts with being trained. Once we drop them off into Alivia’s care, you and I can go hunting for the slave master. Does that sound acceptable to you?”
Anwyn nodded. “Yes, that’s fine. I can wait a bit longer.”
Dawyn looked at Ashley and Jason. “I think it’s time for us all to get some sleep. I know the ground is hard, but get what sleep you can. Anwyn and I will take turns keeping watch. We’ll make for town at dawn.”
With that, Ashley, Anwyn and Jason lay down to sleep, as Dawyn walked into the darkness to patrol.
Chapter 6 - Moonlight
The moon slid behind thick clouds as Boris approached the northeastern section of the palisade surrounding the Morozov estate. As Alexandra had stated, a hillock ran close to the palisade. Boris waited, until he saw the guards begin to move. Stepping back, Boris began running to pick up speed and leapt toward the wall. He grabbed hold of t
he top of a log making up the wall and pulled himself up. Flipping onto the platform vacated by the guards, Boris snuck toward the servants’ entrance.
Slipping through the servants’ entrance, Boris found the kitchens cold and quiet. In a few short hours, the cooks would once again be hard at work preparing the first meal of the day. This is strange, Boris thought. I would think there would be at least one guard here. It would be too easy for an intruder to slip in otherwise. A twisting feeling manifested in his gut, but he ignored it. Soon, he and Alexandra would be away from this place, together.
Retracing his steps from earlier that day, Boris arrived at the door outside Alexandra’s chambers. He looked further down the hall, but there did not appear to be anyone around. He tapped on the door.
Moments later, the latch was lifted and the door swung open, revealing the green eyes of Alexandra. She was dressed in the same blue dress as earlier - in fact, it did not appear she had changed apparel at all. She frowned and sighed. “Please come in, Boris.”
Boris followed her inside and closed the door. “Traveling will be hard with that dress on, Alexandra. Do you have anything more functional you can wear?”
Alexandra walked to the center of the room and seated herself in the armchair there. “I will not be going anywhere, Boris,” Alexandra said as she looked Boris over. She looked as though she were about to cry. “You, however, will be. Guards!”
Boris stood stunned as the doors to Alexandra’s chambers opened and half a dozen guards poured in. A hidden door along the wall also opened, revealing yet more guards. Boris was forced into the center of the room as the door to the hallway behind him slammed open, guards rushing in. All had swords drawn.
Boris reached for his knife. Fool, Boris thought. I should have known this was too easy. I let my emotions blind me. He turned to Alexandra, hoping to buy time. “Why did you betray me, Alexandra? That story you told me, of your husband, of the lack of children, of being a prisoner here, was that all false?”
Alexandra’s eyes flickered toward the floor, but as she opened her mouth to answer, she was interrupted by a voice coming from her bedchamber.
“Of course such a preposterous story was false, you fool. One of the patrons at the inn overheard you speaking, remembered your previous dalliance with Alexandra and the circumstances of your departure all those years ago and came to tell my chamberlain. As you were on your way, we devised this clever scheme to capture you.” The voice belonged to Lord Morozov, Alexandra’s husband. He was a bulky man, with balding hair and beady eyes. Behind him walked an even older stooped man, who must have been his chamberlain.
As Lord Morozov spoke, he stepped up behind the chair Alexandra sat in and placed his thick hands on her shoulders. She flinched against her will. “You have been caught breaking into my manor and into the bedchamber of my lady. The punishment for such a crime is enslavement. You shouldn’t have been so foolish to come back here, Boris.” He glanced at the knife Boris carried and chuckled. “I wouldn’t try and fight, if I were you, for my guards would gut you like a deer. Drop your knife.”
Boris let his knife drop to the floor. As the guards rushed in to seize him and place shackles on his wrists, he ignored Lord Morozov and studied Alexandra, who was continuing to study the floor. She was telling the truth, Boris realized with a start. That bruise, on her cheek, it wasn’t there this afternoon. Indeed, a large red mark had begun to bruise on Alexandra’s left cheek. “I will come for you,” Boris said.
Alexandra looked up at his words and locked eyes. She mouthed “I’m sorry,” before again averting her gaze.
Boris gave a small nod before returning his gaze to Lord Morozov. He hoped that the lord had not understood the exchange.
“Where you are going, fool assassin, there is no return. You will have no chance to have your revenge on my lady or me.” It seemed he had indeed misunderstood the exchange. Lord Morozov gestured toward Boris. “Guards, throw him in the dungeons. Geoffrey, see that he is sent to the market first thing in the morning.” The chamberlain bowed behind Lord Morozov.
As Boris was led out of the chambers, he kept his gaze on Lord Morozov. He would be back, to take his revenge on Lord Morozov and free Alexandra.
Chapter 7 - Awakening
John was startled as he woke to find a strange woman at his bed side. “Who are you?” He asked.
The woman sat up from where she had been resting. “Oh, you’re awake, good. My name is Anwyn. I arrived shortly after you were shot,” she indicated the bandages with a wave of her hand, “and helped to get the bolt out of your chest.”
“Oh,” John replied. “All that is a little fuzzy.” Panic suddenly set in and his heart skipped a beat. “Wait, where are my friends, Ashley and Jason?”
“Your friends are fine, John. They are downstairs chatting with my companion, Dawyn. I came up here to knit in peace and watch for you to wake. How do you feel?”
His heart beginning to calm down, John looked down to see a large strip of cloth banded around his chest. “I feel fine. A bit weak and very hungry, though.”
Anwyn nodded. “Both are to be expected. You’ve gone through an experience that would have killed most men, and left others lying in a bed for weeks recovering. Let me check your bandage.” She stood up and began to lean over his chest.
John furrowed his brows. “How long have I been lying here?”
“It has been about a day since the attack.” Anwyn began untying the white strip of cloth. “After the attackers were dealt with, you were brought back to this inn on a stretcher. I bandaged your wounds and settled in to wait. Ah, good, all healed.”
John looked down and opened his mouth in astonishment. His chest looked perfectly normal, minus some missing hair. No scars, no blood, no sign of a wound at all. “How did - how did that happen?” he stammered. “I remember being shot. You said I had been shot. How do I not have a wound?”
Anwyn gave a small smile as she continued to remove the bandages. “It’s a long story, and better left to Dawyn to tell, but let’s just say you have the ability - gift may be a more appropriate word - to heal more quickly than ordinary humans. It’s this ability that saved your life.”
“Oh.” That was all John could think to say. It was all too much. First appearing in a foreign land, then being taken as slaves and now being shot but healing super quickly? What sort of world is this?
“Here, take my hands,” Anwyn said as she offered her hands. “We’re going to sit you up and see if you can walk without issue. Pull yourself up.” With Anwyn’s help, John pulled himself up to a sitting position. For the first time, John realized he was clothed in brown trousers, but no shirt. The room began to spin for a moment, but the dizziness soon subsided. John studied the room. He was in a bed suitable for two people. A small glass window occupied the wall to his right, though the shutters were closed, while along the wall in front of him, next to the door, was a wooden chest of drawers. Behind Anwyn was a brass bath tub. A lantern sat atop the wooden table to his left, joined by a ceramic bowl, while another hung from the ceiling.
“Now stand with me,” Anwyn said. John continued into a standing position. Aside from feeling weak due to hunger, John felt fine. Anwyn looked down at his legs and stepped back, assessing his strength. “Good, it seems you’ve fully recovered. I have placed some clothing on the bed for you,” she gestured to the foot of the bed. “I will give you some privacy while you dress, then we will go downstairs to reunite you with your friends.” Without waiting for an acknowledgment, Anwyn glided from the room.
John hadn’t noticed the clothing at first. A forest green tunic, gray socks and brown leather boots sat at the foot of his bed. Walking over to the pile, he picked up the tunic. “Where are my clothes?” he wondered aloud. A search of the chest of drawers yielded nothing, and there were no other places to store clothing in the room. He shrugged and donned the tunic. It was loose and the material was itchy, but nevertheless it felt comfortable. Tugging on the gray wool socks and leathe
r boots, John walked to the door and opened it. Outside stood Anwyn. “Anwyn, did you…,” he felt his cheeks begin to heat up. He looked down toward his trousers. “Did you…?”
Anwyn seemed to guess what he was thinking, for she followed his gaze down to his trousers and then looked back into his eyes before chuckling. “Did I undress you? No, your girlfriend, Ashley, undressed you and changed you into your trousers and new smallclothes. She’s a keeper, that one.”
John nodded. “Yes, she is at that.” A thought occurred to him. “What are smallclothes?”
“They are the small clothes under your pants. Come on, let’s go downstairs.” Anwyn led John down the hallway to a staircase. Together they descended the stairs to the ground floor of the inn. As they descended, John looked around at the inside of the inn.
The tavern was packed. Every seat seemed to be taken, while serving girls rushed from table to table, dropping off or picking up plates of food before hurrying to the kitchens. At the bar, the bartender was sharing stories with patrons while refilling their stoneware mugs. In a corner of the inn, nearest the hearth, stood a scrawny red-haired woman singing a bawdy song that made John’s cheeks burn anew.
Anwyn led John through the throng of people, past the bar and stage, toward a side hallway. She stopped at the second doorway and knocked before entering. She beckoned him inside and held the door for him.
John nodded his thanks to Anwyn and walked into the room. The first thing he saw were three people seated at a dining table. He recognized Ashley and Jason, despite their unfamiliar clothing, while the third person was unknown to him. He had short brown hair, with two swords belted to his waist and he looked to be about John’s age.
Ashley’s eyes grew wide as she saw John. She shot up from her chair and rushed over to him. “Oh, John! You’re alive!” She embraced him. “I mean, Anwyn and Dawyn said you were going to be alright, but, seeing you here,” she was interrupted as John took her face in his hands and turned it upward. Leaning down, John kissed Ashley passionately on the lips.
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