Soren slowly opened his eyes, and the first thing that greeted him was a wooden ceiling. That was something he had rarely seen in his life, maybe in a fantasy film or in old huts in the countryside, which he only knew vaguely. Usually, the ceilings he remembered were made of reinforced concrete slabs or bricks, often cold and massive, sometimes covered with ingrain wallpaper. But wood? Hardly!
His thoughts slowly returned to the events that had brought him here. Like waves beating against a rocky beach, the memories brought back the images piece by piece.
The fight with the lion, the unknown power that had awakened in him, and finally the explosion of light just before he passed out.
He sighed softly and sat up slowly, but his muscles protested the movement and a sharp pain shot through his side. Instinctively, he touched the place where the lion had wounded him. The touch of his fingers found a bandage wrapped tightly and carefully around his wounds. Someone had treated him, but who?
Soren scanned the room. It was simply furnished, with rough wooden boards for walls, and at the far end of the room a small fire flickered in the fireplace, its warmth filling the room. On a table lay a few dried herbs, some bread with jam, soup and a bowl of clear water.
The door opened quietly, and Soren nearly jumped in surprise, immediately touching his wound again as the twitching movement caused him pain.
''Ah, you're finally awake. I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't wake up anymore,'' said the middle-aged woman as she entered the room with a gentle smile on her face and set the basket in her hands down on the floor.
Soren opened his mouth to say something, but his throat was dry. He cleared his throat and finally managed to say, ″Where...Where am I?"
The woman came closer and handed him a jug of water. She helped him to drink, as he didn't have the strength to do it alone. ″You're safe. That's all you need to know right now."
''What's your name?'' he finally asked after she put the jug down and he had taken in enough liquid again.
The woman sat down on a simple wooden chair near the fireplace. ''My name is Idris,'' she said, watching him carefully. ''And you are very lucky that I found you. You were almost dead when I found you in the forest.''
''Thank you for your help, Idris,'' Soren said. ''I don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn't come along.''
Idris smiled gently and stroked his shoulder reassuringly, as a mother would a child. ''Don't worry. I'm grateful that I could help. And I'll take care of you until you're back on your feet.''
Soren nodded weakly, still dazed by the whole situation. "How… how long have I been unconscious?" he finally asked.
"Three whole days," Idris answered without hesitation. "You were badly injured and exhausted. Your body needed more time to recover than I had expected, but that's normal when you go through something like you did. Especially at such a young age as you are."
"Three days...," Soren repeated, ignoring the last sentence.
Finally, he looked at Idris. "I won't forget that and I'll make it up to you," he insisted.
But no sooner had he spoken the sentence than he suddenly felt a light blow to the head.
"Ouch!" he cried in surprise and rubbed the painful spot.
Idris stood before him with folded arms and a smirking look. "Stop worrying about that," she scolded sternly. "Get well first before making such promises. You'll have plenty of time to return the favour, but now you need your strength to heal."
Soren blinked in surprise, then nodded hesitantly. "You're right," he murmured.
"But tell me," she began, full of curiosity, and sat back down. "What kind of magic was that which you used?'
"Magic?" Soren asked, confused.
Magic was a concept from fantasy books, legends, sagas and stories told to children. Something that had no place in the real world. But the more he thought about it, the less he could dismiss it. He could no longer explain rationally what had happened around him.
''Yes, magic,'' Idris agreed, giving Soren an equally puzzled look. ''But you should know that. After all, you were the one who killed the lion. Truly powerful magic you used there. If you don't mind me asking, what kind of magic do you have?''
''Sun magic?'' he wondered aloud.
''Is that a question or an answer?''
Soren scratched his neck sheepishly. ''An answer, I guess. I've never used magic before, let alone knew I had any,''
''Well, that's not important right now. Get some rest and sleep a little, Soren,'' she answered.
Soren frowned and asked in surprise, ''How did you know my name?''
Idris silently pointed at her chest, and Soren followed her gaze before looking down at himself. Around his neck was a necklace he hadn't noticed before. It was simple but beautiful.
It was made of dark pearls and had a rectangular pendant with a frame that was black like the pearls. In the centre of the pendant was a small, clear crystal that shimmered slightly in the light.
He lifted the pendant so he could see it better and saw Soren engraved on it.
''You had it on you when I found you,'' Idris explained calmly. ''It has your name on it, so I assumed it belongs to you.''
Soren slowly lowered the necklace as Idris closed the door behind him.
Over the next few days, Soren rested while Idris continued to care for him, bringing him simple meals and making sure his wounds healed. She insisted that he take it easy and, though he was often impatient, he eventually relented.
During the time that Soren recovered, he talked a lot with Idris and learned a lot about the world around him and the place where he was.
She told him that he was in the Clover Kingdom, in a small village called Amberglen, which was on the edge of the kingdom, a quiet and remote place.
Idris explained to him that she had found him while she was looking for herbs and magical plants in the forest. She had been nearby when she felt the huge explosion and saw the light shooting into the sky.
Idris took Soren to her house, which was located in the village where she lived. The house was simple but cosy, surrounded by a small garden that she carefully tended to. Idris had been living alone since her husband, a former knight of the Clover Kingdom, had fallen in battle against the Diamond Kingdom. She told Soren many of his stories with pride.
Unlike her husband, Idris herself was not particularly strong when it came to magic. She possessed plant magic, a type of magic that offered her limited possibilities in combat, especially due to her rather low mana.
In this world, at least in the Clover Kingdom, according to Idris, grimoires are used to store spells within them, allowing their user to cast certain spells far beyond their own natural magical abilities.
They are unique and bound to the owner, and cannot be used by anyone else.
The more he heard about it, the more he realised that he was indeed in another world. But instead of discouraging him, it gave him hope.
In his old world, he had been just a nobody – one of countless people who lived and died like small, insignificant dots in the universe.
But here, in this new world where magic existed, he could be more. He had the opportunity to rise above himself, to do something significant and leave a name.
For the first time, Soren sensed that he might be destined for something greater, something that would never have been possible in his old world.
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So, Chapter 2...
Yeah, I think it's going in the right direction so far. Let me know what you think and leave a review :D
Men scroll
Men see
Men smile
Men gifts Stones
Men leaves Review
Men leaves happily.
Yours,
Jasonenrick!