Just Another Unforgettable Day

Three winters later, the routine of the small village was well established. Johnny and Cecilia, despite the adversities, had found a way to adapt to their new reality.

Every morning, when the dawn began to tint the sky with orange hues, Johnny would rise from his straw bed. The timid light of daybreak revealed the modest interior of their cottage, where the simplicity of medieval life contrasted with Johnny's memories of the technological world he had once known.

His sister, Cecilia, slept beside him, and, as if attuned to her younger brother's rhythm, she soon noticed his awakening. With a warm smile, Cecilia gazed at him with tenderness.

"Where are you going, Johnny?" she inquired, concern in her voice.

Johnny stretched and yawned before responding, eager to start the day. "I'm going to play with the other children! After all, all the village boys gather to explore and learn about this world."

Cecilia, with an expression that mingled love and concern, let out a sigh. "Alright, just don't be late for lunch. Today, our only meal will be at lunch, and we can't afford to miss any food. That old fool, our uncle, lost part of our supplies in a bet. He's utterly careless."

Johnny gave her an enigmatic look, as if pretending not to understand the weight of her words. It was his way of masking the frustration he felt towards their uncle, their guardian, who, despite providing the essentials, often disappointed with his thoughtless actions.

"Sure, I won't be late," Johnny replied with a half-smile as he prepared to leave.

Cecilia, in turn, observed him with a gaze that mixed the responsibility of being the motherly figure and the understanding that, deep down, Johnny was just a child. With one last piece of advice, she concluded their morning conversation.

"Have fun, but remember we need to take care of each other. Our family is closer than ever, and together, we'll overcome any challenge."

Johnny nodded, knowing that, despite the hardships, Cecilia's presence in his life was a ray of hope amidst the uncertainties of the medieval world that now surrounded them.

Johnny shrugged, pushing open the rustic door that creaked with a harsh sound as it swung open. It was clear that the makeshift cottage they called home lacked luxuries, but it was still the place Johnny and Cecilia called home. With haste and enthusiasm, he set off towards the village's central square.

As he made his way along the dirt path leading to the village's heart, Johnny's senses were inundated by a mixture of stimuli. The cheerful sounds of haggling and conversation filled the air, while the enticing aroma of spices and roasted meats caressed his nostrils. As he approached the square, the young scientist's eyes were greeted with the sight of colorful, vibrant fabrics that contrasted with the simplicity of medieval clothing worn by the village's inhabitants.

Upon reaching the street leading to the square, Johnny found himself in the bustling heart of the village market. It was a hub of activity where traders displayed their goods on makeshift stalls, and buyers moved about in search of essential items for daily life. The constant buzz of the market filled his ears, creating a vibrant and lively atmosphere.

However, not everyone in the village greeted Johnny with sympathy. The comment of a peasant who called out to the running boy caught his attention.

"Look at the little bastard! Running around carefree!" the peasant remarked, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

Unfortunately, Johnny and Cecilia were not well-received in the village. The history of their family, involving a promiscuous lineage, was a subject of gossip and suspicion among the villagers, especially among the women. Johnny's mother, a poor harlot who had passed away during Johnny's birth, had left a stain on the family's reception that the two siblings carried as a burden. While Johnny ran toward the square, he was all too aware of the shadow of prejudice hanging over them, a constant reminder that he had never truly been accepted in medieval society.

The Holy Church, while considering Johnny's mother's promiscuous behavior a sin or even worse, a curse, had turned a blind eye to this particular heresy. In fact, it recognized that, as much as the offspring of a harlot was seen as improper, there was a prior need for labor in the village. Johnny, with his history, represented an essential piece in this puzzle, despite his tainted origin.

In the center of the village square that Johnny now headed towards, there were four paths leading to four distinct regions, each with its own set of rules and restrictions.

To the north, lay the lord's castle, an area difficult to access due to the presence of his guards. The nobility resided there, separated from the rest of the population by a seemingly insurmountable social barrier.

To the south, was the territory of the church, a more restricted region of the village where almost no one had permission to walk. The church's activities were shrouded in mystery and rules that governed the lives of the faithful.

To the west, lay the peasants' district and the shantytown, which included a modest dwelling of Johnny's. Living conditions in this area were harsh, with a lack of resources and opportunities creating a tough reality for those who resided there.

To the east, stretched the village's border, serving as an entrance to a dense forest. This forest, reminiscent of the majestic Amazon, housed a race that was humanity's greatest ally. It was said that somewhere within the forest was a lake, a setting for stories told by local drunks about a monstrous immortal with seven heads.

Johnny, however, remained skeptical of this legend. He believed that these stories were most likely myths without a basis in reality, as no one except the old drunks claimed to have seen such a creature. Johnny's greatest challenge in his current world lay in his ability to distinguish urban legends from reality. To tackle this dilemma, he applied the scientific arts he had learned in his past life, putting the scientific method into practice and establishing a classification based on levels of evidence. According to his system, the fewer people or alcohol-scented groups involved, the lower the level of evidence. Conversely, if several people recounted a certain fact, the level of evidence would be considerably higher.

Even though Johnny trusted his rational approach, he acknowledged there were flaws in this method, mainly due to the potential for authorities' mass manipulation of the population, distorting the truth and turning it into a convenient version of facts. Nevertheless, he persisted in his quest for the truth amidst a world filled with mysteries and complexities.