My second day in this impossible world. The stiff straw beneath me was confirmation enough: this was no dream.
I rose, tidied my straw bed out of habit, and picked up the small, worn children's book Jess had given me. Curiosity overriding manners, I began to explore the small cave hideout while Jess was occupied. I tried not to touch anything, just observe.
Jars, wooden chests, a rack of hanging strings, and stacks of thick, parchment-like cloth covered the walls. Some of the smaller, stiffer pieces of this "cloth" were decorated with intricate circles and characters, reminding me of mystical diagrams or perhaps the work of a very dedicated fantasy enthusiast.
In an alcove carved deep into the rock, I found an armory: rough-hewn shields, spears, swords, and bows, all made of wood. Nearby sat crude boots and armor. It was a survival cache, not a treasury.
I found Jess tending a small, portable stove. He was mixing flour and water. It was only then I realized I hadn't felt hungry since waking up, surviving purely on fruit yesterday. Strange, but welcome.
"Hey!" I greeted him.
He glanced up, his expression guarded. "Mangan," he said, sliding a flat piece of baked bread my way. A new word. He took a second piece, ate it, and the meaning became clear.
Eat.
As we ate the slightly chewy, warm bread, he pointed first at the book, then tapped the side of his head. "Zika... adal... ibro?"
Miro... learn... book?
The pieces clicked. He wanted me to learn the language. I opened the children's book. Page by page, I studied the pictures—simple images labeled with the alien script. Jess spoke the word; I repeated it. We continued this way for hours, sharing the simple bread, which he called 'pan.'
By noon, I had a handful of new words and a basic grasp of our situation. We were in a country called Vieja Ellivio, currently hiding in the Umrot Forest, which was the southern border of the Kingdom of Que. Jess explained, with pointed looks and simple phrases, that the people who captured us were "evil" soldiers of Que, people who only looked out for themselves.
We needed to move.
Jess packed quickly, stashing bread, fruit, and his gear. I gathered my meager possessions: the book, the spare clothing, a small, dull stone knife, and a few glass vials from the floor.
Stepping out, Jess effortlessly used his hands to roll the massive boulder back into place, sealing the cave. I watched the feat, excitement bubbling up. Was it simple strength, or some kind of spell? This was, after all, another world.
We walked for several hours, tracing a path along a deep canyon. Jess used a rough map to explain that we were headed for a small, distant town where we could live "normaly" and safely. I kept the book open, repeating words as we walked, trying to build the vocabulary needed to survive.
The peace was broken by a noisy presence: a large, pig-like monster with shaggy fur on its back. Jess called it a 'Dorbab.'
"Mangan," he stated, pointing the creature. Food. We needed to kill it.
Jess pulled a small pouch from his bag, producing a strip of fabric and a slingshot. Killing that beast with a slingshot seemed suicidal, especially against my pathetic stone knife. Then, he handed me a piece of the stiff paper-cloth with the circles on it. He gestured for me to watch him and the Dorbab.
He loaded a stone into the sling, holding the mysterious paper-cloth in his left hand in front of the sling. I realized the paper was blocking the stone's path. Yet, he looked deadly serious.
He shot.
Baammm!
The stone passed through the cloth without tearing it and rocketed toward the Dorbab. He immediately loaded another and started running wide to the monster's right flank, peppering it with shots.
Following his lead, I charged the Dorbab's rear, knife in hand, and took a wild slice at its hind leg. The impact was disappointing; the dull stone blade merely skidded off the thick hide. The now-furious beast spun toward me.
Just as it lunged, Baammm! A clean shot from Jess struck the Dorbab's right eye.
"Use! Use!" Jess shouted, pointing at the paper cloth in my hand and then at the monster's rear.
Unsure, I held the cloth against the Dorbab's rear and shoved my stone knife into it. Hiiy-yaaaa!
Wow! The dull blade suddenly gained a razor edge, slicing deep into the pig's flesh. It squealed in pain. When I pulled the knife out, the cloth was miraculously undamaged.
The Dorbab cried and tried to flee, but Jess's continuous, amplified stone shots were relentless. I ran to its blind side, pressed the cloth to its neck, and plunged the knife in again. The blade instantly became a surgical tool, severing the artery.
The Dorbab bled out quickly.
While it died, I watched Jess carefully collect the stones he had used. Were they special? I picked up a dropped projectile—a smooth, round, bluish stone, hard as concrete. Then I repeated the ritual: I held my own paper-cloth strip and dropped the blue stone through it.
When it emerged on the other side, the smooth, round projectile now had sharp edges, transformed into a lethal slug.
Magic? Sorcery? No, this was something new. This was the power of the other world.
Jess wasted no time. He pulled a proper kitchen knife from his bag and began butchering. He made a slice in the chest and plunged his hand in. I watched, slightly disgusted, as he pulled out the heart.
"Heart," he stated, then sliced it open to reveal two small green stones inside. He pocketed them, then finished separating the meat, fur, and bone. Jess was clearly pleased with the haul.
We walked until we found a suitable rock formation, setting up a makeshift camp. Jess, to my fascination, used a piece of the same paper-cloth to start the fire. He aimed the cloth at the dry grass, blew through it, and a small jet of fire ignited the kindling instantly. Forget lighters; this was amazing.
We roasted the Dorbab meat. No spices, just flame and flesh, and it tasted incredible. The fatigue was overwhelming, however, and the excitement of the "paper magic" faded beneath the need for rest.
I'd ask him about the paper-cloth tomorrow. For now, it was time to sleep.