His body deliberately did not move as it began to adapt to the changes of what was called death, who knows how long it took from the coldness of the night, now it became the warmth of the long-awaited summer.
The person blowing in the air, feeling what a human should feel, the sensation of the cool breeze blowing softly on his left temple, he opened his eyes, feeling his body lying down and staring at the gray sky.
Trees tasseled from above the still lying person, covering up to the hips and guiding the space for light to enter the view. A peaceful pastoral setting unfolded before the eyes, comparable to medieval erofa.
More than one wagon was tied up in a field of golden wheat, filled in succession, and pulled with a rattling sound. Behind them, two old men shook hands, exchanging silver and copper coins afterwards.
He climbed to his feet, realizing he had no further pain, and sighed as he observed the surroundings. What appeared to be a long-established house was not as far as the eye could see, its image touching that of Swiss houses, simply graded with rough wooden cladding, and supported by rocks, solid with dry, blackish mud.
The wagon sounded again, passing him and kicking up a cloud of dust behind. This time the old men were aware of its existence, so one of them waved a hand in a friendly gesture, subtle enough that his face came alive.
"Good morning..." They gave the impression of old men clearly, with just a friendly greeting and a smile in his day. Then it was off to sweep the sweat off the fields, and the clattering sound rattled the eardrums.
He nodded, rubbing his dust-covered nose, the weakness in his knees exposed to the sun, testing him through the vast expanse of nameless green grass, and now, he was on the doorstep.
A knock was answered with a "One moment" behind it. The door opened and someone stepped out, it was an older woman with tanned hair. Her words were in the same language, which gave him temporary relief.
For an introduction, this seemed easy, you see... the owner of the house invited kindly to enter, she followed him with the smallest of gestures, said a word and offered to sit down.
Inside, the furniture of the house was roughly made with wood, some others also used stone. Something that looked like a thread dangled in place, it seemed that the owner of the house was minimizing the tangled thread before returning to him.
Then, he leaned towards her and announced, "Where have you been?!" he said seriously with a wink.
He gasped, surprised, and at the same time the owner of the house grumbled. "Didn't think mom was worried about you?"
She couldn't reply either, her face embedded with relief and anxiety at the same time. In the closeness of the relationship from both sides, it could be said that the old woman, was her mother in another world.
***
Starting from here, his life changed a little, Vallo Erlenoir, an intern who used to sleep alone in a cold door, was now declared alive again in the form of Children.
He didn't know what part of the world this place was from, because if it was stated in reality, this place was too peaceful for his earth.
There was no electricity here, which meant that lighting was provided by candles or torches. Most of the people here wore rough tunics wrapped in wool, it was said that the weather was still warm, so it depended on when the seasons would change.
A day had not yet passed, but the facial features and local conditions were like the middle ages in Europe, whether it was the culture, clothing, and architecture in the houses, everything depended on the rough material that had not been wrapped with any material.
From here he wandered, passing through the wooden planks and going to the private room above, inside was quite simple, one bed and two closets, and a glassless window form overlooking the figure of the sun in the morning.
Someone came into the house, carrying a large sword tucked between the backs of his clothes, and sat down next to him who had just come down the stairs. He was breathing heavily after coming in, given a cloth to wipe off the sweat and a cup of herbal tea that looked brown.
Mom was cooking over there, grating something and lighting the stove. She was deep in speech, and something appeared between them, a smoldering spark, spinning absentmindedly between fingernails.
Bwush.
"Here you go ..." Her voice sounded proud.
Mom quickly clenched a fist, putting out the fire. Picking up where she left off and putting in the grated ingredients.
Confusion was at a high level, feeling and being felt were different, after and before could only mean one thing: He was not on the same earth.
From the beginning the big man carried a sword, his palms and body were sweaty. But this was not the same as the second. A feeling of relief circled the beginning of the struggle, he cleared the gravel in the eyes and smiled alive.
A magic, they call it that.
This world perspective was made different, a different dimension. with all its laws and causality. Different from the laws of nature in the physical world composed of atoms.
The experience from his previous life made him able to do it. A new life that was not stale and ordinary, became a fresh journey in the next world, called...
'Another World.