The burning sensation enveloped Emil Kramer's body as he tried to wriggle and fight away the flaming feeling on his skin.
Argh! He shouted from his mind. Not a single thing he can do.
He felt every fiber of flame eat away his flesh. It started from his brain, going down to his shoulders, and the worst part—his heart. The heat had somehow burnt his internal body, before he felt it on his skin.
At last, about a little more than 10 minutes of the torment, he was able to open his eyes. The transfer might've just worked. Half an hour earlier, he was in a machine tube that was supposed to be a time machine, but now all he sees is a ceiling, about 8-feet in height. The feeling of being burnt alive still creeps in his body. Both inside him and on his skin.
The first thing he noticed is the architectural design of the room he's in. It was dim, but not dark. The only light source of the room is a shine from outside, probably from the moon. Feeling heavy, Emil stood up slowly. He crutched his hand to the bed he's currently in.
Surprisingly soft and cushioned. The bed almost felt like one of those he saw in the billboards across highways in California. Emil rubbed his eyes for better vision. But as he opened his eyes again, he realized. Hey… this—this is not my hands.
In confusion he looked at it again. Still the same. His big scarred fingers, often called by his military colleagues, are replaced by slim and slender fingers. Alarmed, he hastily jumped out of the bed, slipping on his way out of it. Emil lost balance for about a second, and his military senses saved him from completely falling off.
Emil scanned the whole room for a mirror or anything that can reflect his body. The room seemed rustic, but homey. Due to the light that only reflects from the moon, Emil had a hard time scanning through the whole room.
He glanced to his right, a huge cabinet was standing there. Gotcha, surely there's a mirror in there. Emil walked toward the gigantic cabinet. He grabbed the metal handle, it definitely feels metal, but it's something he'd never felt before. It's somehow cold but not in an uncomfortable way. He pulled the cabinet door. Clothes were the first thing that flashed his eyes, but books piqued his attention. The books had some strange symbols, something that resembles something out of an alchemy book in fiction. But, more fascinating is how Emil seems to make out of those symbols, it's translating on his mind.
The book wrote:
Chapters of Sun Gods Might: Vireon
It didn't appall Emil's attention, but it was definitely something he'll need to read later to learn his current position. He frisked at the clothes, it felt thick and very soft, just like cotton. He turned left, looking at the back of the closet door. There. A soft light hit the mirror on Emil's left.
And there Emil is standing. Dumbfounded. The big man he once was flashed before his eyes— body full of battle scars, his definitive stature. Everything of his past shell was replaced by the foreign body he now inhabits. The body of a boy, not older than 15 years, is obviously doing heavy work, it's slim but lean. The worst of all, his face that the ladies once loved while serving his time in the army was gone. Emil's blonde and silky hair was replaced by brown and wavy mess of a hair. His striking blue eyes, now dark brown with hints of olive. And the winter-like pale skin is now heavily tanned.
He winced his eyes. Once. And another. He controlled his disappointment. Emil tried to recall everything that had happened for him to be here. But a sudden bang popped off in his brain. Hazy, he sat down back to bed. Breathing slowly and trying to calm down. He plopped and lay down on the bed. The bed now feels a lot bigger once he had seen his current body. He closed his eyes, trying to remember again. Flashes of fragmented memory came back.
"Are you sure that you really want to volunteer?" These words are suddenly engrained in Emil's memory.
Yes. That's right. I volunteered for some kind of time-space travel sequence. But they said, I'd only time travel with my body. So what is this?
He stood back up. Pacing back and forth. Thinking what the hell is the situation he's in. Then, as he was just about to go back to the cabinet's foot, an odd scene had entered his peripheral vision—two moons, outside the window one is bigger than what Emil recognizes, and one smaller. His heart beat fast at the sight of this. His body was shaken, his eyes fixated on the moons.
He went back in front of the cabinet. Grabbed the book. Reread the title. Only then, it made sense, Vireon, a fable he had never heard once, is in a book. Emil flipped and scoured through the pages. He thought that the title is the only thing in symbols. It turns out that the whole book uses the symbols as a language median.
He gathered himself together. You're a soldier, take charge. He repeated it over and over under a low hum in his voice. Even the words that come out of his mouth are different. He's not speaking in English, but it does seem to translate on his brain like so. He grabbed his hair, sat back down and looked up to the ceiling. The ceiling felt higher. He looked back at the book in his left hand.
Vireon, Sun God… huh. Did I somehow get into another universe? Or is this temporary? What will happen to me on Earth? Did I die? Is that why I felt the burning sensation? These words repeated in Emil's brain over and over.
He let out a big exhale. And glanced at what's on his left, strangely he never looked there since earlier. A door, and a table. He copped out of the bed, and walked towards the table. Papers, pens, books all over—scattered. He grabbed a pen. He wrote on a piece of paper.
'Transmigration…?' He wrote the word in English letters. He walked towards the door, opened it ajar and peeked outside, no one to be seen outside. He closed it again, and went back to the table. Sat down, and grabbed a paper with writings on it.
3rd Sun of Athereon, 500 F.P.
The sun rose brightly today, brighter than it was yesterday. God Vireon seems to be happy. Father left for duty early, and so did mother. I tried praying to all Gods for me to have an exceptional year ahead. And I hope a miracle comes.
Lugira
'Is this some kind of a journal? A diary perhaps?' Emil whispered. Just when he was about to take another piece of paper, his head started getting a migraine again..
'I better deal with all this tomorrow.'
That was a very good choice for Emil. He stood back up and slowly and quietly dragged his feet towards the bed. He plopped back down, his eyes grew heavy and heavier every second. Silence. His eyes were weary, tired. He let go of his concern for now…