Eric gulped as he took in the scenery around him. It was much different from the room that he had fallen asleep in.
'What is this? A lucid dream?'
He had regained lucidity and found himself in some sort of strange home with obvious differences from what he was used to.
'This looks like I'm back in the middle ages! What's going on?'
Clack!
As he was sinking deeper into a fit of panic, the wooden door on the other side of the room where he had woken up suddenly opened up. A middle aged man with long, black hair that reached the middle of his back walked into the room and closed the door behind him before turning to look at Eric with a comforting smile.
"Greetings, Eric Thompson. I am sorry for the inconvenience." The man gave a small bow. "My name is Varzia. I am responsible for bringing you here."
"You- this isn't a dream? You brought me here?" Eric was taken aback.
"Indeed. You are here because of my selfishness. I am sorry, but you probably won't forgive me for disrupting your life. All I can tell you is that there is a way to return. You must simply just acquire the strength to facilitate your return."
"What are you talking about?" Eric felt a surge of dread well up within him.
Varzia only gave a muted smile. "There is not much time. My power has run out. Everything will be explained in due time. Goodluck and farewell, Eric Thompson."
Varzia bowed his head once more and a flash of white light blinded Eric momentarily. When he regained his vision, he found that he was still in the same room, but the feeling that he was in a dream was no longer present. Everything seemed to be more solid and grounded, and the cloudy feeling in his chest was gone.
"W-what happened? What was that? Where am I? Was I kidnapped?" A surge of thoughts ran through Eric's mind and he voiced them.
Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, a surge of information suddenly swarmed Eric's mind, slamming into his head like a sledgehammer and causing his body to freeze up. As the pain assaulted his mind, a line of blood began to trickle down from his nostril, bright against his dark skin. His body fell back onto the futon that lay behind him, as if waiting for this moment.
After an indeterminate amount of time, Eric regained clarity. With hazy eyes, he sat up and rubbed his head, suddenly feeling a bit more calm after the sequence of events that had just occurred. It only took him a few moments to realize what had changed.
"This... this knowledge... this is impossible!"
The reality of his situation dawned on Eric. He was no longer on Earth, having been transported to a strange and unfamiliar world where the impossible was possible. Things that only seemed to be fictional on Earth were now a reality and very much present in this world.
His situation was one that was unprecedented. Never in the history of this world had there ever been a case of an outsider being transmigrated here, but the man he had spoken to in that dreamscape, Varzia, had achieved the impossible.
Once upon a time, Varzia stood at the pinnacle of power in this world. But he had retreated from the public eye, shutting himself away to do something that no one knew. In that time he was shut away from the rest of the world, everything had changed. His once noble family had fallen to degeneracy, using their power and influence to lay waste to what was once the pure and untainted world that had been shaped by Varzia's hands.
Any family member that had tried to stand up against the leaders in this change had either been killed or exiled. Many had fallen that way.
Eric's situation was similar. His family was stripped of their power and cast aside. One by one, they were hunted down by those seeking revenge on the main family, and despite them having been on the side of the oppressed, as powerless as they were, they had easily been overpowered.
Eric was the only survivor from his family branch.
While all this was happening, Varzia remained out of touch. By the time he had returned, it was already too late. The main family branch had fallen into degeneracy and there was no redemption for them.
Varzia had taken it upon himself to wipe out the main family and all of their accomplices, leaving some scattered remnants of the old family. It was an intense battle, and Varzia had been gravely injured, leaving no way out but to return to a closed-off state in order to recuperate, but even then, it would take an incredibly long amount of time. In his absence, he needed someone to do something to restore the balance.
Eric was there to serve that role, but there was a lot to do. A lot he did not understand. A lot to learn.
"Why? Why me?"
Eric's mind spiraled as he felt unrestrained despair and dismay. He was fine with his former life. He had never asked for a change. Why was it him that was picked to play this role? There were many other people who would have rejoiced at this opportunity, but he was not one of them!
"Stand strong, Eric Thompson. I shall guide the way, but all the work will be done by you."
As Eric was starting to feel faint, a voice, the voice of Varzia, echoed in his ears. He snapped his eyes open and saw a faint projection of the man. He could tell that this was only a projection, and not the real person because the information that had been injected into his mind told him so.
"Why?!"
Despite knowing that it was just a projection, Eric could not help voicing out his complaints.
"Why me? Why not choose someone else?!"
Despite his complaints, the projection had no answer, simply fading away.