『Hours later, towards the middle of the night…』
Mikhail was covered in a handful of bruises, but he was smiling, sitting in a circle with four other orcs, who were also covered in bruises.
"Not bad, wouldn't you say Mog?"
The short orc that had brought with him a brief silence earlier nodded.
"Not bad at all, fool."
"Yeah that shit was crazy, man! You took out Murzol and his posse like it was a cake walk, and they're like four years older than you!"
The next one to speak was an orc with yellowish-green skin and curly black hair styled into an afro. He had impressive looking tusks and was a muscular individual to boot. And this young adult's name was Yargol.
"Ah jeez, man. I keep on telling you, I'm twenty-one!"
"Uh-huh, sure, and I've deflowered Glasha," Yargol said while rolling his eyes.
"Who the hell is that?" Mikhail asked while wiping the sweat off his brow.
"Only the hottest babe in our generation, man! She's got a huge chest and the juiciest rear end a man could pray for!"
One of the other two orcs rolled their eyes.
He was the man that had denied Mikhail's silent plea for help earlier. The one with dark green skin and silky dark blue hair. He was rather slim in comparison to most other orcs, and his tusks were rather average.
"Yargol, buddy, you really shouldn't talk about her like that so openly, especially not around the competition," he said while silently cocking his head to the side for a second, gesturing to the other folks in the tent.
"Fuck off Yatur, it's not like any of them have the shot that I do," he said with a mischievous grin.
Finally, the last orc spoke up. His green skin was on the pale end, and his hair was a spiky orange. His tusks were pretty impressive, like Yargol's own were.
"He's not wrong, big bro is the only one who hasn't been outright told to go fuck himself thus far."
Yargol puffed out his chest with pride due to his little brother Kegth's praise.
"Right…" Mikhail said, before stretching his arms out and yawning.
"I dunno about you guys, but I'm tired as shit. I'll see you all in the motha' fuckin morning."
Mikhail stood up and said his farewells, putting two fingers to his forehead before flicking his wrist off to the side.
The others looked at him in confusion, but that didn't stop them from saying their own pieces.
"Later, fool!" Mog said.
"Enjoy your sleep, man," Yargol said.
"Rest easy!" Yatur said.
"See you tomorrow!" Kegth said.
Their nightly farewells came in one after the other as Mikhail walked a few paces over to his sleeping mat and laid down.
The tent was still rambunctious as before, but he was now thoroughly exhausted.
Once he got comfortable, Mikhail passed out almost immediately.
***
The nebulous void of unconsciousness had taken hold of Mikhail's being, but randomly, sometime throughout the night, things changed…
His memories began to return to him like a raging flood.
His childhood home. His friends, and his family. His lover. His formative years and his favorite shows, video games, and hobbies. The time he was deflowered. The years he had spent in college working on his video game development degree…
The start of the war that changed everything.
His memories just flowed and flowed, until he had found himself in a solitary confinement cell, awaiting his punishment for refusing to help murder innocent bystanders…
Things ended abruptly at that point, but for some reason, he felt as if there should have been more.
He could feel that the flow of memory was supposed to continue onwards, but it simply didn't. It was like those memories had just been completely erased.
***
When the final set of memories flowed through his mind, Mikhail found himself waking up. But it was strange. It was dark, as if it were still night time…
Getting up from his sleeping mat and grabbing his book, he saw that the tent was empty.
His eyes casually drifted over to the entrance, where he saw all the other sleeping mats piled up.
'Must be really early in the morning… What is everyone doing at this hour?'
He picked up the sleeping mat he used and tossed it into the pile as he left the tent, finding Yagnar casually sitting near a random carriage in the encirclement.
"Ah, good morning! What took you so long?"
Mikhail shrugged.
"I uh, don't know how to describe it. I guess… My past came rushing back to me?"
Yagnar's eyes sharpened subtly.
"Ah, really? Do you know how you ended up on the side of the road then?"
Mikhail shook his head.
"I can't say I do… But I do know that I'm not from this world."
Yagnar raised an eyebrow.
"Not from this world?" he asked incredulously.
Mikhail nodded. "Yeah, I'm from a world without Aether… But I don't know how I ended up here, and it feels like I'm still failing to recall my past…"
Yagnar whistled.
"Man, that's some crazy dream… Anyway though…"
Yagnar pulled a box out from under his chair.
"I've put some clothes in here for you. So, you can finally change out of those rags of yours once you go bathe with the others."
Mikhail raised an eyebrow, and Yagnar was quick to answer the young man's obvious question before he even asked.
"Just walk out from the camp's entrance space and go straight for a while, you'll find the river where all the other guys are bathing."
Mikhail paused for a moment, before grabbing the box out of his hand and heeding those directions.
'Communal bathing, huh?'
He looked down at the belt tying his tattered robes around his waist. A feeling of embarrassment washed over him at the thought of revealing himself around others, but at the same time, this was obviously the norm of this world…
He was technically the weird one, feeling embarrassed about the communal bathing.