Sober Stine's first sensation was a dull ache pressing against the back of his skull, like the remnants of a nightmare refusing to fade. He stirred, feeling something coarse beneath him—the hard, unyielding surface of stone. Slowly, he opened his eyes, the world blurring into focus. Above him stretched a vast sky, grey and sober, its clouds heavy with impending rain. The air here lacked the vibrant energy he once knew; it felt hollow, empty—a world without magic.
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he had died. Was this the afterlife? A realm beyond Eldoria's shores? But the ache in his body and the grime on his face reminded him he was very much alive. He tried to sit up, his muscles trembling from weakness. His breath came in short, shallow bursts as though even the act of breathing required effort.
"Oi, you alive?"
The voice came from somewhere close, rough yet not unkind. Sober turned his head slowly, his vision still swimming. A figure loomed over him—a young man with unkempt brown hair and clothes that looked like they'd seen better years. His face was smudged with dirt, but his eyes were sharp and curious, glinting with mischief. In his hands, he held a crumpled tin cup, jingling with a few coins."You awake or what?" the man repeated, nudging Sober's leg with the tip of his worn boot.
Sober blinked at him, his mind struggling to process the words.
"Where… am I?" he croaked. His voice felt foreign, as though it belonged to someone else.
The man grinned, showing teeth that were slightly crooked but oddly charming. "Welcome back to the land of the living, mate. You've been out for two days. Thought you might've kicked it, but look at you now. Upright and confused."Sober frowned, the man's words sinking in slowly. Two days? How long had he been unconscious? How was he even here?
"What's your name, anyway?" the man asked, crouching beside him. "You don't look like you're from around here."
For a moment, Sober hesitated. His name—Sober Stine—was one spoken with reverence back in Eldoria, a name of legends and triumph. But here? In this strange world where no one knew him, where magic did not hum through the air? It felt like a burden, a tether to a past he could not explain.
"I… don't remember," Sober lied, his voice low.
The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Don't remember, huh? Amnesia? Well, lucky for you, I'm good with names. How about… Jeffrey?"
"Jeffrey?" Sober repeated, the word tasting strange on his tongue.
"Yeah! Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" The man clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him over. "I'm Adams Ansel, by the way. Best magician this side of the city."
Sober looked at him, bewildered. Magician? Did this world have magic after all? But no—he would have felt it. There was no energy, no threads of power running through the air. And yet, Adams spoke with such confidence, as though magic were real."Where… am I?" Sober asked again, his voice steadier this time.
"You're in Blackridge," Adams said, waving a hand around them. Sober finally took in his surroundings: a narrow alleyway littered with trash, its stone walls stained with grime. The distant sounds of shouting and clattering echoed from the streets beyond. "Not the prettiest part of town, but it'll do for now. You were lucky I found you before the rats did."
Sober swallowed, his throat dry. "Thank you… Adams."
"Don't mention it, Jeffrey," Adams said with a wink. "So, you really don't remember anything? Where you're from? What happened to you?"Sober shook his head, avoiding Adams' gaze. "Nothing. It's all blank."
"Huh. Weird." Adams didn't press further. Instead, he stood and dusted off his tattered coat. "Well, no use sitting around like a couple of sad sacks. Come on, I'll show you how a real magician earns his keep."
Sober watched as Adams stepped to the edge of the alley and plopped himself down on the sidewalk. With a flourish, he pulled a deck of cards from his coat pocket and began shuffling them with surprising dexterity.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Adams called out to passers by, his voice loud and theatrical. "Prepare to witness feats of wonder and mystery! For just a coin, I will show you magic beyond your wildest dreams!"
At first, no one paid him much attention. But Adams was relentless, his voice booming and his grin infectious. Slowly, people began to stop. A small crowd formed, curious to see what the ragged young man would do.
Sober watched in awe as Adams performed. He made cards disappear and reappear, coins vanish into thin air, and even pulled a crumpled flower from behind a child's ear. The crowd gasped and clapped, their faces lit with wonder. Coins clinked into Adams' cup, and he grinned like a man who had just conquered the world.Sober couldn't look away. "How did you do that?" he asked when Adams finally returned to the alley, his cup jingling with earnings.
"Trade secret," Adams said with a wink. "It's not real magic, you know. Just tricks. Sleight of hand, misdirection. People see what they want to see."
"Not real magic?" Sober repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. To him, it had looked like magic. In Eldoria, such feats would have required spells or enchantments. Here, Adams did it with nothing but his hands and a deck of cards."Come on, let's get you something to eat," Adams said, pocketing his earnings. "You look like you haven't seen food in weeks."Sober's stomach growled in agreement. He followed Adams through the streets of Blackridge, his eyes wide as he took in this strange world. Towering buildings loomed above him, their windows reflecting the grey sky. People bustled past, dressed in clothes unlike anything he'd seen before. The air smelled of smoke and metal, with none of the fresh, earthy scents of Eldoria.
They stopped at a small food stall, where Adams bought two steaming bowls of something called "noodle soup." He handed one to Sober, who stared at it, bewildered.
"What are you waiting for? Dig in," Adams said, already slurping his own bowl.
Sober hesitated, then took a cautious bite. The flavors exploded on his tongue—savory, rich, and unlike anything he had ever tasted. He devoured the food like a starving animal, the warmth spreading through his body.
"Slow down, Jeffrey! You'll choke," Adams laughed, watching him.
Sober ignored him, too focused on the food. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt a flicker of comfort. When the bowl was empty, he leaned back with a sigh, his hunger sated."Good, huh?" Adams said, grinning.
Sober nodded. "Thank you… Adams."
"Don't mention it," Adams said, standing up. "Stick with me, Jeffrey. I'll show you how to survive in this world. Maybe we'll even figure out where you came from."
As the day dimmed and the streets grew quieter, Adams stretched his arms and yawned. "Well, I'm heading back to my place. It's not much, just a small room I rent. Where are you going to sleep tonight?"
Sober froze, unsure how to respond. He hadn't thought that far ahead.
Adams noticed his hesitation. "You can tag along, if you want. Beats sleeping on the street."Sober looked down at his dirty clothes, feeling a pang of shame. "I don't want to impose.""Impose? Don't be daft," Adams said with a chuckle. "Come on, Jeffrey. It's better than rats nibbling your toes."After a moment's pause, Sober finally nodded. "Alright."
Adams grinned. "That's the spirit. Let's go."
And so, with reluctant steps, Sober followed Adams through the darkening streets, his heart heavy but grateful. For now, he was just Jeffrey—no longer a hero, but a man trying to find his way in a world without magic.