New Home

The trio navigated their way through the verdant expanse of the forest, each bearing their share of the herbal bounty. Ravian, with his striking figure and effortless grace, had taken it upon himself to shoulder the heaviest load. A hollow log, repurposed into a makeshift barrel, rested upon his left shoulder. It was filled to the brim with a variety of herbs, their vibrant hues a stark contrast to the dark wood of the polished log.

It was quite the surreal image, the man carrying a hollow log full of herbs easily the size of an adolescent teen as if he were carrying nothing heavier than air itself. He was athletic and muscular, yes, but not a bodybuilder of any sorts. Even so, the lack of any strain and his casual stride was mind-boggling to say the least.

Sigmund, on the other hand, carried a smaller but no less significant portion of the herbs. His gaze was focused, his steps careful as he navigated the forest floor. He carried three full bags of herb, over half of them picked by Ravian as well.

Valerie, for the first time, found herself without the usual burden of the herbs and a bountiful harvest unlike anything ever before. She had been gathering herbs since her childhood. Yet, here was a man who, in a matter of an hour, had managed to unearth a bounty that would have taken her days to gather.

Sigmund, Ravian, and Valerie are now approaching the village, a sense of enchantment settled upon them. Nestled amidst lush greenery and surrounded by flowing rivers, the village appeared straight out of a fantastical tale. Its charm and rustic beauty were unparalleled.

Quaint cobblestone streets wound their way through the village, their weathered surfaces telling stories of countless footsteps and the passage of time. Colorful, timber-framed houses lined the lanes, their roofs adorned with intricate patterns and whimsical details. Flower boxes overflowed with vibrant blossoms, lending a delightful fragrance to the air.

The villagers bustled about, their attire reminiscent of a medieval era. Dressed in flowing robes and traditional garb, they carried themselves with an air of warmth and hospitality. The sound of laughter and lively conversations echoed through the air, intertwining with the melody of a nearby brook.

A central square served as the heart of the village, adorned with a majestic fountain that stood as a testament to the village's history and unity. Intricately carved sculptures depicted mythical creatures and heroic figures, their details a testament to the craftsmanship of the village's artisans.

The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the local bakery, enticing passersby with its irresistible scent. Nearby, a bustling market displayed an array of goods, from vibrant fruits and vegetables to handcrafted jewelry and woven textiles. Villagers and visitors mingled, sharing stories and haggling good-naturedly over the wares.

As Sigmund stepped further into the village, he couldn't help but marvel at the sight before him. It was like stepping into the pages of the fantasy books he had read and cherished throughout his life. The village embodied the picturesque beauty and charm that he had only imagined in his wildest dreams.

Ravian was much less visibly impressed, more out of what seemed to be a sense of normalcy over these things. However, he was interested in the local culture nonetheless, a trait he inherited from his father. The strange mythical figures and those heroic figures, much closer to those he had studied from his own world than from the Earth of his father. He wonders if there's perhaps any parallels, any coincidences, and common threads in the minds of different civilizations.

As they passed the heart of the village, Ravian's gaze was immediately drawn to the architecture. The buildings were a charming blend of rustic simplicity and sturdy functionality, their timber frames and thatched roofs a testament to the villagers' craftsmanship. The structures were a far cry from the oriental grandeur and opulence of his homeland, but they held a certain charm that was uniquely their own. His golden eyes roamed over the buildings, taking in the details with an appreciative gaze. Despite the bustling activity around him, he seemed unfazed, his focus solely on the architecture.

The village was alive with activity, the air filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter, the clanging of metal, and the occasional bray of livestock. Its marketplace was a riot of colors and sounds, with stalls selling everything from fresh produce to handcrafted wares. It was an open air environment, right beneath the warm gaze of the midday sun.

Yet, amidst the sensory overload, Ravian moved with an effortless grace, navigating the uneven cobblestone streets with ease. His attention, however, began to gradually drift away from the people or the marketplace. Instead, the discomfort that the sunlight was causing him became his new focus, not even his curiosity of the local architecture being enough of a distraction.

The sun was like a persistent rash on his skin and Ravian silently huffed in annoyance. His features tightened subtly, his normally relaxed demeanor replaced by a slight grimace. He could feel the sunlight prickling his skin, a source of irritation and distracting. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, the fabric providing a modicum of relief from the relentless glare of the sun.

It was moments like this that increased his appreciation for his father and his inventions, both magical and technological. His sunglasses would have been perfect and his parasol would have at least shielded him as well. But there is no point in lamenting and so he bore it with a stoic grace, his pace unchanging as he continued to navigate through the village.

The villagers, for their part, couldn't help but stare at the strange duo. Ravian, with his striking features and foreign attire, looked like a noble from a distant land. His dark brown hair, the elegant black cape, and the unusual golden eyes were a stark contrast to the simple attire and earthy tones of the villagers. And then there was Sigmund, who, despite his familiar features, stood out with his modern attire. It seems that these two travelers would become the talk of the town for the next few days.

As they approached Valerie's home, the rustic charm of the village architecture was reflected in its humble design. The house was a quaint, timber-framed structure, with a thatched roof that had been weathered by time and the elements. A small garden, brimming with a variety of herbs and flowers, added a splash of color to the otherwise simple exterior. The wooden door, though worn, stood sturdy and welcoming, a testament to the resilience of its inhabitants.

Upon entering, they were greeted by the cozy warmth of the living room. The room was modestly furnished, with a stone hearth at its heart, radiating a comforting heat. Handmade wooden furniture, polished to a warm glow, was arranged in a welcoming manner around the room. The walls were adorned with simple decorations, and the scent of dried herbs mingled with the comforting aroma of a wood fire.

"Thank you both for your help," Valerie said, her voice echoing softly in the room. "I couldn't have gathered so much without you."

Ravian, who had been quick to close the door behind them, had a subtle hint of relief washing over his features. Hearing her, he turned and offered her a charming smile. "It was our pleasure, Valerie. We're glad we could be of assistance."

Sigmund, still adjusting to the surreal events of the day, simply nodded. "Yeah, happy to help."

Valerie led them through the living room, her steps echoing softly on the wooden floor. She opened another door, revealing a room filled with shelves lined with jars of various sizes. The room was cool and dimly lit, the air heavy with the earthy scent of dried herbs and roots. It was a storage room, a sanctuary for the fruits of her labor and the source of her healing arts.

With a wave of her hand, she gestured for them to place the herbs inside. "Please, put them here," she instructed. The room, filled with the fruits of countless hours of labor, was a testament to her dedication and skill. As they set down the herbs, the room seemed to come alive, the scent of the fresh herbs mingling with the existing aromas to create a symphony of scents that was both soothing and invigorating.

With the last of the herbs carefully placed on a shelf, Ravian straightened up, his cape falling back into place with a soft rustle. These herbs were all new to him but many of them were identifiable as unknown species of plants he had seen before in his travels and his father's labs. It was quite interesting, perhaps an inevitable consequence of a world so similar to home, it's bound to have similar ecosystems as well. Ravian wonders if he could catalog this, but perhaps another time. After all, he's stuck here for a while.

After the work is done, Ravian and Sigmund finally get a good look at Valerie's herb room.

The room was a haven of aromatic scents and vibrant colors. Clay pots of various sizes lined wooden shelves, their surfaces adorned with intricate patterns and inscriptions. Within these pots, an abundance of lush green herbs and plants thrived, their leaves reaching toward the ceiling as if eager to touch the roof.

The air was infused with the intoxicating fragrance of rosemary, lavender, and thyme, intermingling harmoniously to create a symphony of herbal scents. Each inhalation filled their lungs with a sense of calm and rejuvenation.

Amidst the sea of verdant foliage, pockets of color stood out like precious gems. Delicate blue and violet blossoms adorned certain plants, their petals vibrant and ethereal. They seemed to hold a mysterious allure, captivating the gaze of both Ravian and Sigmund.

But what truly caught their attention were the faint, magical blue particles floating gently in the air. They danced and swirled, creating a mesmerizing display as if they were the essence of enchantment itself. Their soft glow illuminated the room, casting a serene ambiance that enhanced the mystical atmosphere.

Ravian's gaze was drawn to the floating particles, their faint blue glow casting an ethereal though faint light in the room. He extended a finger, his movements slow and deliberate, as one of the particles drifted closer. "Fascinating," he murmured.

The particle landed gently on his finger, its faint blue light pulsating like a tiny heartbeat. It felt cool against his skin, a sensation that was both strange and intriguing. "A new sight for me," he mused, his gaze fixed on the tiny speck of light.

Turning his attention to Valerie, his golden eyes met hers, a spark of curiosity flickering within them. His lips curved into a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he held out his hand, the particle still resting on his finger. "What are these things?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine interest. "Pollen, perhaps?"

Valerie, taken aback by his question, blinked in surprise. She looked at the particle on his finger, her eyes widening slightly as she realized what he was asking. "Oh, those," she said, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

"They're not pollen. They're spell-dust. They're quite common around here, especially in homes of spellweavers like me." She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her features. "I suppose they must seem strange to ya. They're just a part of everyday life for us."

Valerie pondered this, her brows furrowing slightly in equal parts thought and confusion. Perhaps magic just works differently in other lands? She was fairly certain that Ravian was some sort of wizard, given his ability to use magic. Yet, it was unheard of for a wizard not to produce spell-dust. She had never encountered such a phenomenon before.

But then again, she had never ventured beyond the confines of the neighboring villages, let alone visited the city. She decided to chalk this up as another addition to her growing list of new experiences. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and a hint of excitement. After all, it wasn't every day that one encountered a wizard from a far-off land and had no idea about the basics of magic here.

"Spell dust, huh..." Sigmund murmured, his voice tinged with awe. His eyes wandered across the herb room, taking in the lush greenery, the vibrant colors, and the ethereal presence of the magical blue particles. He couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for this mystical herb room.

A soft smile graced Sigmund's face as he took in the sight of the herb room. It was a tangible testament to the existence of magic, a concept he had only ever encountered within the pages of his favorite storybooks. The room was filled with an array of herbs, their fragrant aroma permeating the air. Each herb was meticulously arranged, their vibrant colors creating a beautiful mosaic. It was as if he had stepped into another world, a world where magic was as real as the air he breathed. He felt a sense of awe wash over him, a feeling of childlike wonder that made his heart flutter with excitement.

Valerie, noticing their awe-struck expressions, offered a warm smile. "You're welcome to stay here, you know," she said, her voice gentle. "You're travelers, and it's only right to offer hospitality."

Ravian turned to her, his golden eyes reflecting gratitude. "We are in your debt, Valerie," he said, his voice carrying a sincere note. "We will do our best to repay your kindness."

Valerie waved away his words with a laugh. "No need for that, Ravian. It's just the right thing to do."

But Ravian was insistent. "We cannot simply take your generosity for granted. We will find a way to make it up to you."

Sigmund, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we can help out around the village or something. It's only fair, right?"

With that settled, Valerie led them to their rooms. The rooms were modest but comfortable, each furnished with a simple bed and a small table. The walls were adorned with hand-woven tapestries, their vibrant colors adding a touch of warmth to the rooms. The wooden floors were polished to a shine, their surface cool underfoot. It was a humble abode, but it was filled with a sense of warmth and comfort that made them feel at home.

Ravian, upon entering his room, was immediately drawn to the windows. The sunlight streamed in, bathing the room in a warm glow. It was a beautiful sight, but one that brought him discomfort. With a swift, fluid motion, he moved towards the windows, his cape billowing behind him. His golden eyes narrowed slightly as he reached out to close the wooden shutters. The creaking sound of the hinges echoed in the room, but it was a small price to pay for the relief that washed over him as the room darkened. He let out a sigh, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite the minor discomfort, he was grateful for the hospitality they had been shown.

Ravian let out a quiet sigh of relief, the tension in his shoulders easing as the discomfort from the sunlight faded. The room was instantly plunged into a soothing semi-darkness, the harsh sunlight replaced by a soft, diffused glow. He let out a sigh of relief, the tension in his shoulders easing as the sting of the sunlight was blocked. His hand ran through his dark hair, a small smile playing on his lips. "Much better," he murmured to himself.

Valerie, who had been observing Ravian's actions from the doorway, raised an eyebrow in mild surprise. "You really don't like the sun, do you?" she remarked, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. Her eyes, however, held a glint of curiosity, as she tried to make sense of Ravian's strange aversion to sunlight.

Ravian pivoted on his heel, his cape swirling around him as he turned to face Valerie. His golden eyes met hers, a charming smile gracing his lips that softened his otherwise intense gaze. "Ah, it's not that I dislike it, per se," he began, his voice carrying the smooth, melodic lilt of his British accent.

"I simply find it much too bright for my taste," he continued, his gaze drifting towards the now covered window as if to emphasize his point.

"I've always been more inclined towards the soft rays of the moon, you see." He paused for a moment, his gaze softening as he added, "I hope my preferences do not cause you any inconvenience, Valerie?"

Valerie shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "No, not at all," she replied, a warm smile spreading across her face. "It's your room after all. You should be comfortable in it."

Sigmund stepped into his room, a cozy and comforting space that had been graciously provided to him by Valerie. As he looked around, he felt a sense of contentment and familiarity wash over him. The room was adorned with simple yet tasteful furnishings, reflecting a rustic charm that resonated with Sigmund's sensibilities.

The bed, with its soft linens and plump pillows, beckoned him to rest and recharge after a day filled with new discoveries. The warm glow of the softly lit lantern cast a soothing ambiance, creating a tranquil atmosphere that embraced him like a gentle hug. A small wooden desk stood against one wall, its surface uncluttered and inviting, offering a space for Sigmund to record his thoughts and reflections.

"Thank you, Valerie, for giving us both a place to stay," Sigmund said, his tone brimming with sincerity. "It really means a lot to us."

Valerie's eyes sparkled with a gentle kindness as she listened to Sigmund's words. She nodded, a soft smile gracing her lips, acknowledging the depth of his appreciation.

"You're most welcome, Sigmund," Valerie replied, her voice filled with warmth. "It's my pleasure to offer you a safe haven in our village. You and Ravian are part of our community now, and we take care of our own."

Valerie, with a humble nod of her head, excused herself to step out and purchase some meat from the village market. "Well, I reckon I'll be off to the market then, fetch us some meat for supper, I'll be back shortly. Please, make yourselves at home." she announced. Her words were simple, yet carried a warmth that was characteristic of her.

Her hands smoothed down the front of her simple dress, a subconscious habit she had developed over the years. "Don't you worry about the cost, Ravian, Sigmund. It's the least I can do after all the help you've given me today." The door closed behind her with a soft creak, leaving Ravian and Sigmund in the quiet comfort of her home.

Ravian, left in the quaint silence of the house, found his thoughts drifting towards their meal for the next day. He was not accustomed to relying on others for his sustenance, with only his father as an exception. As a prince, he was used to providing for his people, not the other way around.

His father never hired servants and so any servants were either his own creations or those who have dedicated themselves to him. He was raised and taught to hunt, cook, build, and take advantage of every talent he had. To serve rather than be served, and to be able to help himself.

It would be an apt comparison to say that he has much more in common with a Mongol prince than a prince of most kingdoms. Having a stranger prepare food and hospitality for him was something he must repay, his honor as a prince demands it. The first step to that would be to procure a meal.

However, the sunlight outside was still strong, its rays piercing through the windows and casting long shadows in the room. He couldn't hunt like this, it would be much more productive for him to return to his new room and see if he had missed anything. So, he walked up the wooden stairs and entered his room, closing the door behind him with a low creak.

Sigmund sat on his bed, his mind heavy with the weight of uncertainty. Thoughts of his life back on Earth flooded his consciousness, a wave of worry and longing crashing upon the shores of his thoughts. His heart ached for the people he had left behind, the friends he cherished, and the familiarity of his old life. The unknown future stretched before him, and the question of what would happen now loomed like a shadow, casting doubt and fear upon his weary soul.

As the tears welled up in his eyes, Sigmund rested his head in his trembling hands. He allowed himself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building within him. The tears flowed freely, carrying with them a mix of sadness, confusion, and a sense of loss. It was an overwhelming release, a cathartic moment of vulnerability as he faced the daunting reality of his new existence.

It was all he could do at this moment in this new world.