Came to the past kingdom for cure

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of the earlier conversation still in the air. The grandfather, feeling the need to add a personal note, cleared his throat. "Elias," he began with a gentle, yet grave tone, "Above all, my deepest wish for you is to live a long, happy life. This watch, these journeys – they're an adventure, but your well-being is paramount."

Elias smiled weakly, touched by the sentiment. "Thanks, Grandpa. It means a lot."

A thought struck him, his eyes lighting up. "What if there's a world, a time, where my Crohn's can be cured? Where I don't have to deal with it any longer?"

His grandfather sighed, a hint of worry in his eyes. "It's a tempting thought, but remember, each era, each timeline has its own challenges. While they might have advancements in one field, there could be other issues, other struggles."

Elias nodded but seemed deep in thought. "Still, it's worth a shot, right?"

Holding the watch firmly in his grasp, Elias took a deep breath and visualized a world, an era where medical advancements might offer him relief from his ailment. He could almost see it – sleek buildings, people in white lab coats, technologies so advanced they seemed like magic.

The watch began to vibrate gently in his hand, then with increasing intensity. Without warning, it emitted a sharp jolt of electricity. Elias gasped, momentarily paralyzed by the unexpected shock, the sensation traveling up his arm and through his body.

His grandfather jumped up, alarmed, reaching out to steady Elias. "Are you okay?"

Elias blinked, trying to shake off the disorientation. "Yeah... yeah, I think so. That was... unexpected."

His grandfather looked deeply concerned. "Maybe it's the watch's way of warning or protecting you. Remember, not every desire, every wish, is meant to be pursued."

Elias nodded slowly, the reality of the situation dawning on him. The watch wasn't just a tool; it had its own mechanisms, its own safeguards.

Back in his room, surrounded by heaps of history books, Elias pondered over the unexpected jolt from the watch. "Why did it reject my wish?" he mumbled to himself, thumbing through a thick volume on ancient civilizations.

He remembered his grandfather mentioning the watch had its own safeguards. But why? Was it not the right time? Or perhaps the wrong intent? With a deep sigh, Elias decided to approach the situation like any other problem – research.

Scrolling through articles on his tablet while flipping pages of a well-worn history book, Elias tried to piece together periods where medicine had made significant leaps or where alternative treatments thrived.

"Let's see... the Renaissance saw significant advances, but that's too broad," he muttered. "The Golden Age of Islam had major strides in medicine and science..." He perked up at the thought, recalling his lessons about scholars like Avicenna and their comprehensive medical encyclopedias.

His eyes darted to a bookmarked page about ancient China, which delved into their holistic approach to health. Traditional Chinese medicine had often been ahead of its time, focusing on balancing the body's energies.

But the one that caught his attention was the Greco-Roman period. "Hippocrates," Elias whispered. Known as the Father of Medicine, Hippocrates and his teachings laid the foundations of Western medicine. The idea of treating diseases based on observable symptoms rather than spiritual causes was revolutionary at the time.

"Hmm... Maybe if I aim for a time when there's a confluence of medical wisdom, where Eastern meets Western practices, I might have a shot." Elias pondered.

Setting his mind, he focused on the Greco-Roman era, where the Silk Road was bustling, connecting the East and the West, allowing knowledge to flow freely.

Holding the watch firmly, he visualized this period, hoping for a successful journey this time. But, being a typical late teen, he couldn't help but also wonder, "I hope they have some decent food."

As the hum of the watch subsided and the swirling temporal winds settled, Elias found himself standing in a bustling market square. The Greco-Roman era, with its iconic architecture and a medley of languages filling the air, was immediately discernible.

But Elias quickly realized something was amiss. He patted his pockets, searching for his tablet and the small bag of essentials he had packed. Nothing. Even his sturdy backpack, which he was sure he had slung over his shoulder, had vanished.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Of course, it's never easy, is it?"

Inspecting himself, Elias realized that only the clothes he wore, his glasses, and the watch remained. He deduced that the watch, in its mysterious way, only transported his immediate person and what he wore. Any additional items, however important or trivial, were left behind in his original timeline.

A sly smirk formed on his lips as a mischievous thought crossed his mind. "Good thing it didn't consider my clothes as 'additional items'. Imagine me popping up in the middle of ancient Greece in my birthday suit. That would've been... a historic scandal."

Shaking his head with a chuckle, Elias focused on his surroundings. The market around him was alive with activity. Stalls filled with fresh produce, handcrafted goods, and the distant chatter of traders and townsfolk created a vibrant atmosphere.

As he marveled at the sights and sounds, a singular thought formed in Elias's dreamy mind. The lack of modern gadgets meant he would truly have to immerse himself in this world. To listen, to learn, to connect without the safety net of the technology he was so accustomed to.

Elias cautiously navigated the busy market, keenly aware of the inquisitive and sometimes wary eyes on him. His modern attire, though plain to him, was clearly unusual in this era.

He approached a stall displaying a medley of vibrant fruits, manned by a robust-looking man with a bushy beard and tanned skin. "Χαίρετε," Elias greeted in Greek, hoping to bridge the initial gap.

The stall owner looked up, squinting his eyes a bit. "Χαίρετε," he replied, his tone guarded. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Elias hesitated, then decided on honesty. "No, I'm... well, from a very distant place. I'm just looking to learn and understand more about your culture."

The man looked him over, still a bit suspicious but also curious. "Your attire is... odd. But if you're looking to learn, you've come to the right place."

Thankful for the opening, Elias continued chatting with the man, discussing local produce and their uses. However, he could feel the eyes of the other villagers on him, their whispered conversations sometimes punctuated with glances in his direction.

Moving on, he encountered a woman selling intricate pottery. She was older, with lines of age and wisdom etched on her face. Elias approached with a smile, complimenting her work. She nodded, her expression unreadable. Their conversation was brief, her answers succinct, clearly unsure of this stranger in their midst.

Next, Elias met a young lad playing a flute. The boy looked at Elias with wide-eyed wonder, clearly intrigued by his strange attire. Elias, trying to establish a rapport, complimented his music and asked about the flute's origin. The boy, flattered, was more forthcoming, sharing stories about his family and how he had crafted the flute himself.

The fourth villager was a healer, her stall filled with herbs and potions. She eyed Elias suspiciously from the moment he approached. "You have the look of someone seeking answers," she remarked cryptically.

Elias chuckled nervously. "Don't we all? I'm just curious about your medicines and remedies."

Their conversation veered into the realm of ancient healing practices. Elias found her knowledge profound, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that she was analyzing him just as much as he was trying to understand her.

The last villager Elias engaged with was a middle-aged man, chiseling away at a block of marble. "Impressive work," Elias commented, admiring the half-formed sculpture.

The man paused, looking Elias up and down. "Your tone, it's different. Not just your attire, but the way you speak. Even in Greek. It's... modern?"

Elias hesitated. "I told you, I'm from a distant place. Our dialects might differ."

Just as Elias thought he was making some headway, the atmosphere changed. A group of soldiers approached, their armor clinking with each step. One of them, more decorated than the rest, stepped forward, his expression stern.

"You there," he pointed at Elias, "you've been identified as suspicious. Your attire, your way of speaking... rumors are you might be a spy."

Elias's heart raced. "No, I'm just a traveler—"

But his protests fell on deaf ears. The soldier grabbed his arm roughly, pulling him away. "You'll be questioned thoroughly. If you're innocent, you have nothing to fear."