So noisy.
I jolted awake to the sound.
Someone was yelling. People shouting over one another. Voices overlapping into an incomprehensible mess.
When I opened my eyes, I found myself surrounded by a crowd.
Someone was clearly shouting at me, but I couldn't understand a single word.
"…Of course," I muttered. "I'm still wearing my helmet."
Wow.
Was I really that exhausted last night?
A fat, middle-aged man stood right in front of me, his face red with anger. He kept yelling, but all I could make out was
"Gak war chu ski!"
…What?
I slowly took off my helmet and finally got a clear look at him.
Yep.
Middle-aged.
Fat.
Extremely angry.
"Oh," I thought. "This must be his stall."
Right. I slept in someone else's place without permission. Of course, he'd be mad.
I stood up quickly and bowed.
"I'm sorry, sir," I said in my native language.
He responded with, "$@#%&!"
…That didn't help.
"I don't understand," I said honestly.
Wait.
He wasn't speaking my language at all.
A foreigner?
Maybe English would work. English was supposed to be universal, right? Whenever two people didn't understand each other, they somehow used English and figured it out.
"I am very sorry, sir," I said carefully.
"It was raining yesterday, so I took shelter here for the night."
Not my best English, but passable.
His expression softened slightly.
Yes. He understood.
…Or so I thought.
Because he immediately started yelling again. Just quieter this time.
"!@$%#@!"
Yeah. Definitely not English.
I'd watched videos of different languages before, but this was my first time hearing something like this.
I glanced around.
Everyone was staring at me.
"Huh?" I thought. "Is it really that big of a deal to sleep here for one night?"
Then I noticed something strange.
Their clothes.
Shabby. Old-fashioned. Like something out of a history book.
Some people even had swords hanging from their waists.
"…Wait."
I looked around again.
Is this a movie set?
A medieval one?
Excitement bubbled up inside me.
The costumes were insanely detailed.
The houses looked authentic.
Even the dirt road felt real under my feet.
Set design: 10 out of 10.
Costumes: 10 out of 10.
Props: 10 out of 10.
I almost laughed.
"I should totally be an extra," I thought. "Then I can tell my friends, 'Hey, that's me!'"
The proudest two seconds of my life.
My neck suddenly hurt.
Probably from sleeping sitting up.
Not my first time, though.
Back in high school, whenever the teacher didn't show up, I slept through class while everyone else messed around. I wasn't very social back then.
…Still not very social now.
I started walking, trying to find a road, any road, but there was no sign of a highway.
Something felt off.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.
"Oh, good," I sighed. "I charged it yesterday."
Battery: 80%.
Then
"No signal?"
What kind of place was this? In the middle of what looked like a town, with no signal at all?
That's when it hit me.
Something was definitely wrong.
I turned to a nearby man.
"Excuse me, sir," I asked. "What place is this?"
He stared at me like I'd just grown another head.
…Right. Language barrier.
Annoying.
I tried hand gestures, pointing to the ground, spreading my arms.
"What place is this?"
The man finally spoke.
"Cameon."
"…Cameon?"
Where the hell is Cameon?
I bowed slightly. "Thank you."
Before I could walk away
Clank.
Several armored men approached me, swords hanging at their sides.
"$#@%!" one of them barked with authority.
Ah.
I guess it was time to leave.
I bowed my head again, hoping politeness worked across dimensions.
One of them grabbed my arm.
"Hey! That's rude!"
Still, I didn't resist.
Resisting never ends well.
They escorted me to a shabby stone building.
Inside, more armored men stood guard.
Light armor.
Real steel.
Definitely medieval.
They sat me down and handed me water.
"Thank you," I said automatically.
"Excuse me, sir," I tried again. "Where am I?"
The guard's eyes narrowed.
Instead of answering, they took my belongings and placed them on a table.
My wallet.
My phone.
My helmet.
A few loose coins.
…That was everything I had.
They stared at the items like they were cursed.
Suspicion filled the room.
"…Am I being interrogated?"
My heart began pounding.
Why was I here?
After a few hours, an old man entered.
The guards straightened instantly.
I couldn't understand his words, but I didn't need to.
His presence alone screamed authority.
Long white beard.
White robes.
Calm, heavy gaze.
He looked
"…Gandalf?"
No way.
You've got to be kidding me.
My heart started beating even faster.
I had a very bad feeling about this.
Please.
Please let me be wrong.
The old man spoke strange, deliberate words.
Then
A voice echoed inside my head.
Clear. Calm. Understandable.
"Who are you… and what are you doing here?"