David scanned the signboard a second time before he headed in. What greeted him inside was similar, if not identical, to the facility all Earthlings knew about. Rows and rows of steel machines stood unused, and somehow, there was even a treadmill though David was sure it was not electricity that powered it, but something else.
If anything was lacking, then it was good riddance. Unlike the gyms from Earth, his nostrils didn't constrict at the pungent stench of sweat and unpleasant heat he came to know from gyms. Here, it was because the gymnasium was empty, only occupied by people few and far in between.
"Even better for me."
Not only did he receive an entire professional-grade facility for him, but he did not need to flaunt his weakness to anyone, an outcome he was delighted to partake in.
David raised his sleeve and took a long, long look at his arms. Signing documents and stamping official papers certainly did not make him Heracles. With a sigh, he halted before a machine and sat to start training.
This one trained the biceps with a vertical movement from both arms to raise the attached weight. With unbound confidence, David lowered the weight and sucked in a breath.
Gritting his teeth, he pushed through the struggle and the weight upwards. He was never one to train. When his father was around, David felt no need to train as he experienced life like any other young kid – running around and playing enough that he never felt as though he was weak or unfit.
When his mother was around, however, he bid his goodbyes to sunlight and the urinary smell of playground sand. Red veins spiraled like spiderwebs around his irises, and David pushed the handles once more before they dropped with a thud, and so did he.
Now, it caught up to him. He was thirty, and he was weak.
'No, I'm not weak. She was weak, and I'm simply inheriting what I deserve.'
What a joke. Others inherited money, affection or a righteous heart, while he inherited weakness. "You made me this way, and now you're dead."
Anger welled up from inside, manifesting on his flushed face. In a display of exasperation, he pushed the handle once more, hoping (like some third-rate action movie protagonist) he would find the strength to lift it once again.
Unfortunate.
"Glad to see another countryman…uh, planetman around here!" A cheery voice woke him up from his trance.
That wasn't the only thing that woke him up, as David reacted almost immediately when a large shadow cast itself upon his body. The large shadow in question was a giant of a man.
Muscles bulged out of his shirt and modeled his body in the fashion of a biblical antagonist. His face was stern: his blue eyes overlooking David with caution, while his blond hair spoke of his earthly origins.
"It's a pity if you see what I mean? Rarely do you see any gyms this good, and no one…no one had the good idea of visiting by to train?"
"The name's Jameston, by the way. What's your name, Hercules?" The man seemed sincere enough. He extended his hand out to David.
David nodded his head but didn't shake the man's hand. "David."
The man's blue eyes shook for the first time, "Jew name? Ah, it's still a celebration to see a man from Earth here. I couldn't mistake those blue eyes of yours for a second, I gotta say I've got sick of the black-eyed, black-haired folk of this place. Where are we even in, Persia?"
"Probably."
Just great, a strongman with an aftertaste of more muscles and potential racism.
"Good, good, GOOD!" Jameston suddenly burst out.
"Uh-
"I've observed you for a while, David, seen your training tendencies, posture, form and all."
'Stop observing me, please.'
"What I've gotta say is. Man, you're weak!" Jameston bawled in laughter and slapped David's shoulder as if to reaffirm his beliefs.
"Depends who you're comparing me to."
Jameston shook his head and replied, "Nah, your form is mediocre. I doubt you have ever stepped into a gym in your whole life. This is a sacred place: regular gym-goers soon find themselves walking a specific way, training a specific way, talking a specific way. You don't have that to you, boy, you're a clear and complete amateur."
David's right eye twitched. What more could he say?
"Could you teach me proper form, then?" Better be shameless than shunned.
"Oh, of course."
Invading boundaries and an unyielding attachment to sincerity were this man's notable traits. He, without any alert, grabbed David's arms and placed them around the handles, modeling them as if they were a mannequin's arms until a satisfied look passed through his face.
David tried to budge, but the man's muscles weren't for show.
"Also, you're no little girl, add some weight there, boy!"
For the next fifteen minutes, Jameston instructed David on proper training protocols, and the latter gleefully accepted. 'To be fair, the man knows what he's saying. This is much easier than my struggling attempts earlier…'
"Old Jameston here wondering what the mandatory training classes will be about. What could they teach me?"
"Magic?"
"Oh boy…look, of the three Ms. I uphold, magic is not part of them. It's manhood, muscles, and…"
'You don't know the third one, do you?' David chuckled.
Jameston rubbed his rough hair and acquiesced, "Anyways, the real magic is in here, inside of your body. You train it through hard, sweaty work – not through reading dumb books or practicing spells."
"Earthlings, I suppose?" A newcoming voice called out to them.
The two turned in the direction of the voice, finding in there a middle-aged robed man. Not much could be said about him, except the conspicuous birthmark that painted his left cheek.
"I'm Horeira, a mage assigned to your training."
Horeira did not extend his hand for a handshake, but instead brought two fingers up to his glabella, and then down to each of them.
"This one's Jameston, and the meek one's David. What do you need, mage sir?"
"I'm working on equipment for the gym facilities and recently made a breakthrough. A new training machine, one that increases gravity whatever-fold you need it for. What I'm lacking is real experimentation, and you…two seem to be strong enough."
"Count me in," Jameston didn't hesitate a single second before he accepted.
David, on the other hand, was more hesitant and reluctant. "Are you sure you should allow yourself to be subjected to unknown magic, Jameston?"
Jameston stared at him, incredulous, "Oh boy, you're no fun. I'm no nuclear scientist, but I know more gravity equals faster training. It's a dream come true! It's an honor to work with you, mage sir!"
'Are you naïve or just stupid?'
Horeira gave a single chuckle and said, "Follow me, cheerful man!"
"See'ya later, David. Work hard!"
David waved at the leaving muscle head. His motivation to work was still present, but his momentum had all but faded away. Realizing it to be a futile effort, David wiped the machine and left the gymnasium.
His destination? Home.
Memorizing the way back to the apartment tower, he noticed the streets were emptier than usual, while restaurants and eateries were full to the brim.
The ivory tower soon appeared beneath the horizon, and he sped up his pace to rest his aching body sooner. David collapsed on the soft mattress when he entered his apartment and napped until hunger and other needs would wake him up again.
…
Fulfilling these said needs, David changed into a new set of clothing and set out in search of a place to eat. It was one of the rare times sunlight came down on Gomorrah, as proven by the orange says illuminating his skin.
"The library?"
Change of plans. As if he was thrown into the world of a novel, there was a lot of lore he needed to catch up on. Except this was the real world, and that was Megiddo's history.
Looking through the rows of bookshelves, he wondered if they had any classification system, as that would save him a lot of hassle. Fortunately, they did.
"The Child Prince's Guide to the Politicks and Histories of Megiddo."
He was no child prince, but he was interested in the Megiddo's history. It was a translated work, being written in English rather than the indigenous languages of this planet.
'The Kasdim Empire'
His eyes fixed a particular page, and his fingers scrolled through the paper as he read.
'An updated overview: Formerly ruled by Empress Aniqa, the Empire has sustained colossal losses in the invasions of Year 1276, and ambitions to revive the empire lay upon the hands of the closest claimant of the throne, Princess Atraq.'
Several printed drawings accompanied the text, which went into great detail on the empire's past politics, economy, culture and geography.
"David-boy!" A meek old voice greeted him from behind.
"Sir Sahul."
David stood up, greeted the old man and sat back down.
"It's a pleasure to see you here."
"Did I tell you the last part about Selena's exploits…"
And thus, the two conversed and bantered, occasionally falling into silence when they both concentrated on their respective work.
"Sir Sahul, may I ask a question?"
"Go ahead, this old man doesn't have much, but I have some age-old wisdom…"
"Do you know what the mandatory training classes will entail?"
The wrinkled face twisted, and in a high-pitched voice he replied, "Subpar, totally subpar! The failure of our education system thrown onto Earthlings!"
"What do you mean?"
"They're teaching you magic. Bad magic…This old man is exaggerating, but the magic they teach to Earthlings could be much better, and yet they prefer to keep our saviors in weakness and slavery! Shitheads!" The sight of the old mage cursing was a comical one.
An opportunity presented itself. David remembered what the old man said in one of their earlier discussions. He cleared his throat and said, "Sir Sahul, I remembered you mentioning you could teach me some magic, perhaps your magic would be better?"
Sahul laughed as though he was coughing, and replied ignorantly, "This old man doesn't remember much nowadays, boy, I don't recall what you think this old man has said."
'Of course, you don't.'
"Oh, don't mind this one's lies too much, I'm but an old man. As for magic? I can teach you magic, boy, but you have to do me a favor…"