His words made me feel cold inside. This wasn't how I had imagined it all. Even if he's right and there were other travelers here before me, they should become the coolest ones. Why cursed⁈
"When such people were interrogated," my interlocutor continued, carefully observing my reaction. "They often talked about some other worlds. That's where the nickname 'runaways' came from, by the way. Do you remember anything about the past world?"
Here we go... One of the main rules of a traveler is not to talk about it. It's often broken, and sometimes it even brings benefits. But to do so on the first day, and in light of very questionable new information...
But there are still no options... This old man, of course, might turn out to be a disguised member of a secret organization searching for and identifying people like me, and then I'm screwed. But I've always been pretty good at reading people, and I see in his face, besides suspicion and curiosity, also sympathy. What a choice... No choice.
"I remember," I grimaced sourly and took another sip from the mug.
"Oh boy..." the old man leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
He sat like that for a minute, and then suddenly rolled up the right sleeve of his shirt.
Holy shit! Almost yakuza!
The interlocutor's entire arm was covered with tattoos. He stared at them with interest, and then looked at me.
"Do you know what this is?"
"Tattoos."
"What?"
"In our world, drawings on the body are called tattoos."
"Ah... As far as I've heard, in those worlds mentioned by the cursed ones, there was no magic."
"We didn't have it either. Some people just got tattoos."
"Why?" the old man raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise.
"Well... For beauty. And from a desire to be different from others."
Viziliy froze again and looked at me like a strange animal for a while.
"So they didn't give any body enhancements, or magic, or protection... Or anything else?"
"We didn't have such things in our world," I sighed regretfully and took another sip. "But writers described it in books. And we knew about magic."
"Ah-h-h."
The old man suddenly stood up and reached out his hand to me. I instinctively recoiled.
"Don't be afraid. If I wanted to, I would have killed you long ago," he said sternly. "Move closer."
The argument was indisputable, and I leaned forward.
"Strange," Viziliy muttered and rubbed one of his tattoos with his palm. "Once more!"
I leaned over the table. Nothing happened.
"Has it faded or something?" the old man grumbled and touched the tattoo again. Now I could see that it depicted a shield with a lightning bolt on it. "Come on, touch it!"
"The shield?"
"Yes!"
I reached out and carefully touched the drawing with my finger.
Flash, pain, scream, explosion, thunder, and darkness.
==
"Get away from him!"
Through the fog and from very far away, a voice came...
Father? No, he died long ago... Brother Vasya? Doesn't sound like him... Ah! I'm a traveler now! I tried to move my legs, but nothing happened.
No!!! Not this again, damn it! It was just a dream! I hate it!
I lay there, suffocating. No! Until I open my eyes, I can still think that this is not a dream! Maybe I can fall back into it, and there will be a continuation! The main thing is not to wake up completely!
"Seems he's coming around," Now the voice was closer. "Should we splash some water on him?"
It's working! I'm seeing the continuation of the dream! Where's that old man⁈ What were we talking about?
"No need."
There it is, Viziliy's voice... How glad I am to hear it! At least a little more time in a world where I can walk! And also!.. There's magic, a system, and surely there will be adventures!.. Just to catch a glimpse before I return to my cursed body again!
"Ilya, wake up! You're among friends here!"
If I must, then I must!
I opened my eyes. A big man's concentrated face was looming over me.
"He's definitely come around," he revealed yellow teeth in a smile. "Grab my neck!"
I reached out my arm and bent my knees. Yes! They're working again!
Tears burst from my eyes, and when they sat me at the table, I couldn't stop for a long time.
"Everyone out!" the old man's voice came. "Sinila, where's our food?"
"It's ready... I just thought..."
"Bring it!"
The wonderful dream continued. And I suddenly realized that it would be really stupid to cry through it. I need to pull myself together! There I was a paralyzed cripple and a dreamer! But here I'm a cursed sudden arrival and in half a day I scared bandits, killed three hryuks, a criminal, and a wolf! Here I'm awesome!
Wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, I looked around as much as the flame of two small candles allowed.
Wow! That table where we sat before was gone. Well, it was there, but in the form of splinters and small fragments. Now we were sitting one table away from it.
"What was that?" I asked in surprise.
"Why are you crying?" the interlocutor answered with a question.
"I was afraid I'd returned back to that world..."
The words came out on their own, but I didn't regret it.
"Was that world so bad?"
"Wars, diseases, cataclysms. The poor enslaved by the rich. A normal world. I think it's the same as yours, just without magic," I couldn't help but smirk.
"Then why were you crying?" the old man didn't support the joke.
"I told you, there's no magic... And I was born paralyzed."
After saying these last words, I secretly pinched myself on the wrist. So hard that I almost cried out. Then I started to concentrate on my sensations and the more I did it, the more I understood: I'm not asleep.
I'm not asleep, damn it! This is real! And the recent blackout was caused by contact with the old man!
"You won't return to that world anymore..." the old man began, but then Sinila entered with a huge tray.
"Need help?" I rose slightly.
"No, sir, I can manage!"
The girl's brown eyes widened in surprise.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do, and I, trying not to look at her figure, watched as the plates were placed on the table with a slight thud.
Nothing really special: bread, a bowl of something that looked like potatoes, marinades, some slightly weathered meat, two pies, and two more mugs of beer. But looking at this splendor, I almost choked on my saliva.
"Thank you, Sini," the old man said tenderly, "that's enough! Go to bed. I'll settle with your father tomorrow."
"Alright, uncle!"
"Is she your niece?" I asked when the girl ran up the wooden stairs.
"No," the old man waved it off, "it's just how it's done. 'Sir' is for strangers, and they're all afraid to call me grandfather."
"I see," I muttered and, scooping up half a potato on my fork, put it in my mouth.
Great! It really is potato! Or something very similar! I swallowed it almost without chewing and immediately scooped up the next one.
"Don't rush," Viziliy smirked, "we have a long talk ahead of us."
Before continuing the conversation, I tried a piece of each pie (one turned out to be with something like cabbage, the other with egg), then tasted the meat (poultry) and took another sip of beer.
And only then, feeling that my stomach was more or less full, I leaned back in my chair.
"You'll find it hard to believe," I finally said, looking at the wooden ceiling and the cobwebs in its corners, "but so far this is the best day of my life."
"Ha!" The old man raised his mug and almost completely drained it. "Well then, I have both good and bad news for you."