"Araabaa...kypoo...roooo...joooooo...hkkaa...haaaa... Booo...hheyyy...goooo...ttoo..."
Norman awoke to a series of incomprehensible chants echoing above him. The softness of the bed was almost too tempting to leave, but a jolt of danger urged him to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was a hand broom and a shoe spinning in erratic circles above his head. The person wielding them was none other than William.
William, engrossed in his ritual, continued his bizarre incantation while maneuvering the broom and shoe over Norman.
"Is this some kind of ritual from your world?" Norman grumbled, pushing himself up from the bed in annoyance. Who in their right mind would shove a broom and shoe into someone's face first thing in the morning?
"Don't interrupt!" William shouted, not looking up from his task. "I'm trying to send you back!"
Norman stared at William in disbelief for ten long minutes before his patience wore thin. With an urgent need to use the bathroom, he headed toward it, appreciating its conveniences—a stark contrast to his own world. "How convenient," he mused, every time he used it.
"Hey! I told you not to move!" William's voice followed him. "You're messing up the process!"
After the short trip , Norman now seated comfortably on the bed, couldn't help but comment. "There's no magic in your spells. I can feel it."
William, frustrated, began a strange and comical dance routine, which almost made Norman choke with laughter.
"Laugh all you want!" William snapped, returning to his computer with purposeful strides. "See If I don't send you back today —"
Norman cut him off with a scoff. "How is this box giving you all these weird ideas? Is it some book of magic and sorcery? Because if it is, it's definitely a scam. Don't get fooled."
"Shut up, Mister Know-It-All," William retorted. "What do you know about internet communities and blogs? I'm doing this because you won't."
"It's not that I won't; it's that I can't use magic right now," Norman said, leaning toward the monitor. "Why don't we wait until my magic recovers?"
"And how long will that take?" William snapped back. "I can't keep lying to my mom. I need to live my life, not babysit an old man."
Norman's face fell. William's words stung more than he expected. He never liked to be a burden for any. He felt weak and out of place without his magic. For now, William's house was his only safe haven, at least until he learned more about this strange world.
"there it is! ," William said, suddenly perking up. "Great! Mister Old Man, we're going trekking!"
Norman shrugged. "Whatever. If your methods help, I'll be the first to be happy."
----------
The long wait in line, combined with an hour of climbing the hill, had left William's legs feeling like jelly.
"You have the stamina of a snail," Norman scoffed, looking effortlessly relaxed. Despite his magic being depleted, his warrior physique remained in top shape.
"You're the weird one here. Look at everyone else," William retorted.
Norman surveyed the crowd around them. People were massaging their legs, sipping energy drinks, and sitting on the grass, their breaths ragged.
"Pitifully weak! A lowly goblin from my world could annihilate all of you," Norman muttered to himself. "How do people here even survive?"
"There are no goblins here, Mister," William said with a chuckle. "Brains! That's what you need to survive in this world." He tapped his temple with a knowing smile.
Norman frowned, puzzled. Intelligent and learned were respected in his world as well, but he struggled to understand how it could be the sole requirement for survival here.
As he pondered this concept, which seemed foreign and perplexing, it was finally their turn to enter the old, vintage building where the renowned shaman of the year resided.