I found myself in yet another cell. This time, a larger cell with the three survivors. This cell was different from the bleak cell I briefly occupied earlier. It was more of an extravagant suite but a cell nonetheless. Several queen-sized beds lined the four walls of the room. Four comfortable-looking sofas surrounded a large table in the center of the room. Despite the windows being barred, they gave an overview of the metropolis. There was no escaping from this height either. Not without a rope or climbing gear. Tieing white bed sheets together wasn't going to cut the challenging climb that would be. This loft was meant to pacify or appease one's senses. I carefully observed the other survivors in the room. One of them noticed my calculated observations. The largest of the captives other than me. A dark-skinned man with bulging muscles like a giant grizzly bear mixed with a ferocious mountain lion. The buzz-cut style of his jet-black hair gave off the air of a military man. He had stark golden eyes that on my Earth would be impossible. The golden tint blended perfectly with his milky brown skin. His angular eyebrows and high cheekbones made him appear to be a predator. Still, his sharp nose, thin lips, and square jawline gave him enough physical charm to put most at ease. Like me, all he wore was the black and tan leather garments provided to us. The tattoos on his upper arm and chest confirmed he was military-bred.
We studied each other for a long while before the dark man approached me. Finally, he spoke in words that almost sounded familiar. I listened intensely to each word he said. The towering man matched me in height as well. He seemed to understand I was trying to understand his terms. Slowly, I began piecing together his words. An old form of Latin and a mix of old Nubian or Alwan Nubian, I couldn't be sure as I know very little about linguistics. I needed clarification about the latter part. My training only included fundamentals of communication in other languages. Officers were expected to be able to pick up on foreign tongues for intelligence purposes. With enough rudimentary understanding, I decided to communicate. 'Here going nothing.'
"My name is Adam. Who are you?" I said carefully.
"Good, you understand me. My name is Ballio Trebius. I could tell from your tattoos that we may share a root language," Ballio said.
"Makes sense in that regard. I assume you and I are not native to this planet," I said.
"That appears to be the case. The background of the others who fought with us differed from you or me. Had they survived, we may have learned of their origins," Ballio said.
"Were you in the military?" I questioned.
"Yes, and I assume you were too by the tattoos. I was entrenched in a battle with my unit when...," Ballio said, trailing off. "Well, I don't recall how I ended up here. Only the burning pain of whatever means brought me here," he added.
I nodded in agreement. Ballio's situation was starkly the same as mine except for one detail. There was no smiling man. Or he didn't remember him. Either way, that was a bit of intel that may prove crucial. He stands beside me as the other two men in the room watch us. Now, they looked a bit concerned that Ballio and I had broken the communications barrier. The man to the far right was a towering man as well. A blonde hair and a blue-eyed man with too pale skin. His hair is tailed in a ponytail and is braided all the way down to his waist. I saw tattoos on his body, but they appeared more tribal. He reminded me of a Viking; the similarities didn't end there. He had straight eyebrows, high cheekbones, a stoic nose, and narrow lips. His jawline was hidden behind a thick braided beard. I was confident we all came from variations of Earth. That meant there had to be a root tongue we all could comprehend. I just had to find it.
The other man in the room, the smallest of us, looked American. Or his world's variation of an American. he was athletic and built like a soldier or fighter. Of the four of us, he was the fastest and quickest. He had short wavy red hair and red eyes. Being a little shorter than the Viking man, his round eyebrows, pointy nose, high cheekbones, and heart-shaped lips gave him a movie star vibe. I had a feeling he understood us more than he was letting on. An intelligence about him made him stand apart from the rest of us. My chance to communicate with him, for now, slipped away. The guard warriors returned to the room.
Ordering all of us in their native tongue to follow. I was getting closer to piecing together their words. I may have been the only one brought here by the smiling man. Still, the people of this world may be responsible for transporting everyone else here. I followed behind the other two with Ballio beside me. We followed the warriors until they brought us to yet another room. This time there was a large pool in the center of a marble-lined floor. 'Is that an enormous bathtub?' The room, like everything in this area, was luxurious. Fit for nobles or Kings. We were in some grand palace near the colosseum we battled in. The push is towards the awaiting pool. 'It must be bath time.' We were covered in blue-green blood.
Dozens of women dressed in gray or yellow hooded gowns came inside and began removing my clothes. The same was happening for the other three with me. These women didn't waste any time at all and directed me to step into the pool. I knew they'd done this before at the efficient way they handled the Viking man. Like a mother guiding a child, he went into the pool. The first thought that came to my mind was these were commoner servants or slaves. The women bathed me with excellent skill. None of the women shied away from the well-endowed tool I had. Soon I was covered in soapy foam and a pleasant fragrance. When finished, instead of returning our garments, a grooming session began. Once done, they departed as quickly as they'd come.
The warriors commanded again for us to follow them. I didn't like being in the nude again and was forced to walk around. From a tactical and strategic point of view, I was at a disadvantage in acting on any opening. The slave collar would prevent me from getting too far if I did manage to overpower the guards. 'Even if I could get it off, where would I go?' I have to assume that this is a hostile territory. As we trotted through the palace, I saw more and more servants. Some were clearly slaves being led by servants. Others were warriors or what I figured were priests or priestesses. Finally, after a long trek, we were brought to a large room that could act as a library.
The elderly man from the arena was sitting at a table in the center of the room. The warriors made us line up in front of his desk while they stood behind us. As he read from a giant book, I took stock of the spacious room. Dozens of rows of bookshelves and piles of books were everywhere. There were A few chalkboards with indecipherable writing on them, but one was written in my language. The older man was in his sixties or seventies but was in good health. Now that I think about it, other than the man I saw in the chamber I appeared in. Most were at most fifty. His long gray hair was hidden by the silver metallic skull cap he wore. It was then I saw the glasses he wore. Those are modern-styled glasses. 'Was this man from another world too?' I got my answers soon enough when he spoke to me.
"Your name," he said. "What is your name?" he asked.
I tilt my head as he looks up at me from his book. The man knew my language and must have known from the start.
"Colonel Adam Ethan Thomas, 10002083. Corporate Intercontinental Coalition Army Corp," I said confidently.
"I see very well, Colonel. My name is Winston Eckhart, a Lord here in Pons Aelii. The Northernmost metropolis of Oromania in the Oromanian Kingdom," Lord Winston revealed. "You were caught on the summoning jet stream during a maelstrom. It is unfortunate, but the reality you are now in. You are here now, and how you live is how well you perform. I can't tell you that it is possible to rise about your circumstances. For now, you'll fight. Then your magicka and spiritcules will be tested once you have acclimated to this world," Lord Winston explained.
The man called Lord Winston asked Ballio the same question and explained to him the same before addressing the other two men. I learned the Viking was Svan Vegeirsson, and the athlete was Grey Hawthorne. Hearing them talk helped me to clue into their language. Then, of course, I'd need to hear more, but it was a start. It was clear Winston Eckhart was familiar with many tongues.