It was just another day in my boring existence, just another day spent waiting for the next day, that would eventually lead me to a more interesting day.
I was just another high-school graduate, transitioning to college where life would open up and I would get slammed with a little more freedom and a lot more responsibility.
But for the moment, at the beginning of my summer break, I had all about nothing much to do. Play video games with friends all night long, do a little studying here and there to keep the mind fresh. The usual boring day-to-day existence of a privileged individual living in a First World country.
That was the type of day I was having. Keyword being "was," after walking out of my local 7-11 with a twelve pack of Dr. Peppers, an actually decent-looking solar charger for my phone, and a ready-to-eat burger, my day suddenly got much more interesting.
Sitting down in the driver's seat of my old Toyota Camry, I suddenly had the urge to rub my eyes, staring into my rear-view mirror, I was met with a tired gaze.
'Maybe I should start sleeping at a more normal time than 3 A.M.' The thought dragged itself through my skull as I finally gave in to the annoying pressure behind my eyes and rubbed at them with both hands.
When I opened them again, I wasn't in my car.
I was falling, ass first, onto grimy cobblestone in some unfamiliar alley.
"Goddamn! FUCK!"
Those were the first graceful words that exploded from my mouth, courtesy of the whiplash from floating in a seated position one second, to slamming into the filthy ground the next.
Now sprawled on the stones in the most undignified posture imaginable, I blinked at my surroundings in stunned silence.
'Where am I?'
'How the hell did I get here?'
At the mouth of the alley I was now sitting in, wagons rolled past pulled by hulking lizards-things that looked straight out of a Jurassic Park reboot.
That alone was enough to jolt me into motion. I scrambled to my feet and drifted closer, eyes glued to the bizarre scene framed perfectly by my grimy little alleyway window.
So of course, I tripped.
Caught on something behind me, I stumbled forward, nearly planting my face into what was very clearly a filthy puddle of piss.
The stench hit me like a slap. Nose wrinkling in protest, I recoiled and hissed through clenched teeth.
'Definitely piss. Fucking hell.'
Grumbling under my breath, I spun around, ready to glare daggers at whatever had decided to sabotage my already-shitty day.
What met my fiery gaze was… my twelve-pack of Dr. Pepper.
Still intact, still unassuming, except for the strange black box perched neatly on top.
"I don't remember carrying that," I muttered, trudging over to the dastardly drinks and plucking the mystery item from its throne of carbonation.
The box was small, matte black, with faint gold embellishments curling across its surface. Classy. Fancy. Suspicious.
And definitely not mine.
I tilted my head, squinting at it like it might explain itself. It looked like something you'd keep a ring in, like for those cliché declarations of love, or something equally sentimental. Not the sort of thing you'd expect to find sitting on a soda pack in a piss-scented alley.
I glanced around, half-expecting someone to step out and yell, "Hey! Hands off!"
Nothing. Just me and the strange crowd walking by in the distance.
'Eh fuck it. Finder's keepers.'
With that internal declaration of ownership, a grin crept onto my face as I pulled the lid off of my mysterious gift.
What met my greedy, intense stare was something that gave me immediate pause.
Inside the box, a writhing, dark purple blob squirmed like something half-alive, its shape shifting and pulsing in a way that made my skin crawl. The instant I saw it, my first instinct was to chuck the thing into the piss-stained depths of this back-alley nightmare and be done with it.
But then, it stopped.
Completely still.
Like it had noticed me.
"Uh," I said, with the eloquence of a man facing an eldritch horror before lunch.
Before I could so much as blink, the thing launched itself out of the box like a heat-seeking missile, straight into my chest.
"OH FUCK!"
I stumbled back, dropping the box as panic hit me like a freight train. Whatever calm I'd managed to hold onto up until now shattered instantly.
The blob didn't bounce off.
It just… phased straight through me, like I was made of smoke.
Hands flying, I ripped my black hoodie up over my head, frantic to see if it had burned a hole through me.
Then the world suddenly shifted.
Colors bled, hues warped, fading, brightening, collapsing into something far too vivid to be real.
And then came the pain.
A reality-shattering blaze tore through my skull, drilling into my heart like I was being split apart at the seams.
No warning. No build-up. Just agony.
My body screamed to move, to claw at my head, to do something, but I couldn't.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't scream.
All I knew was pain. Fear. Desperation.
And then, nothing.
In the void that followed, only three phrases remained, forcefully chiseled into my very soul:
The Authority of Pride.
Reason and Judgement.
Indomitable.
In an instant, the moment was over.
The world continued.
Sound crept back in like a distant wave.
I collapsed to my knees, eyes wide, chest heaving, barely seeing, barely present.
"What the fuck just happened?"
My voice was a hoarse rasp. "What did that blob do to me? The Authority of Pride? A title and two powers?"
I don't normally talk to myself aloud.
I find it kind of pathetic, honestly.
But right now? I couldn't give less of a shit about social norms.
"What the hell is going on…" I whispered, shaking.
"I need to get the fuck out of this alley."
Clinging to the tatters of logic like a drowning man to driftwood, I tugged my half-removed hoodie back over my head, shoved the cursed little box into my pocket, and grabbed the ever-faithful twelve-pack.
Then, like a man rising from his own grave, I shuffled toward the mouth of the alley, less human being, more walking corpse.
Beyond the alley, the world stretched out in a surreal tapestry of stone and movement.
People passed by without a second glance. Dressed in medieval garb, tunics, cloaks, leather belts, and armor, they looked like background actors from a historical drama. Only this wasn't a set, and I sure as hell hadn't signed a waiver.
'Either I've stumbled onto the most elaborate Renaissance fair in history, or… I'm not on Earth anymore.'
The second option clung to my mind like a wet cloth, uncomfortable, suffocating, and impossible to shake. Every little detail confirmed it: the cobbled roads, the scent of livestock and baked bread in the air, the clatter of hooves and wagon wheels pulled by massive reptilian beasts, like Komodo dragons hit with the "make it thirty-times-bigger" button.
And then I noticed them, amidst the crowd of normal people, were people who weren't entirely people.
A woman with feline ears and a long, spotted tail passed by, a basket of fruit balanced effortlessly under one arm,
A towering dog-man followed, shoulders broad and furred, lugging a greatsword so massive it looked ripped straight from an Elden Ring Colossal Swords category, the kind of blade you swing once, and half the room comes down with it.
Further down, a trio of small, gray-furred cat kids zipped past, laughing with high-pitched, mischievous squeals as they ducked into an alley, one of them clutching a stolen apple like it was treasure.
I stared, slack-jawed.
Demi-humans.
Literal half-animal, half-human hybrids just walking around like it was normal. Because, apparently, it was.
I stayed put for a while, lingering in the alley's shadow, watching.
Analyzing.
The crowd moved with rhythm, not chaos, but a practiced sort of order. Merchants barked out prices. Children weaved between legs. A woman balanced a basket on her head with the poise of someone who'd done it every day of her life. None of them looked confused. Or digital. Or out of place.
Just me.
And then something clicked.
I could understand them.
The merchants shouting about discounts, the mothers scolding their kids, even the muttered complaints of a lizard-person grumbling about wagon traffic, I heard it all. Not gibberish, not some fantasy language. Words. Clear, fluent words. In a language I had no business knowing.
My stomach turned.
'That thing… it did something to me.'
The thought wormed through my skull like ice water. I didn't have time to process it, nor did I really want to.
After a moment, I spotted a break in the foot traffic and stepped in, shoulders hunched, head low, clutching my hoodie and my soda like lifelines.
And just like that, I was swallowed whole. Another face in the tide.
I drifted through the streets, doing my best impression of someone who belonged here, shoulders hunched, eyes scanning, every step echoing the fact that I absolutely didn't.
Stone roads clacked beneath boots and wagon wheels, polished smooth by generations of footsteps. The early morning sun drenched everything in a warm, golden glow, bouncing off tiled rooftops and clean white walls like the city was trying to show off.
Vendors barked from crowded stalls, hawking fruits, spices, and trinkets that made my brain itch with questions. Kids weaved through cloaked travelers and armored guards, their laughter rising above the lizard-drawn wagons clattering down the street.
The city moved like a living organism, steady, practiced, indifferent to my presence.
Somewhere between distracted and numb, I turned to glance at a storefront, and my stomach dropped.
The sign above it was utterly unreadable. Its script wasn't English, or anything close. It looked close to some Asian scripts from Earth, but I was no expert.
'So... I can understand what they say, but not what they write? Great. That's super helpful.'
I tried to pass it off as a joke, but the weight of it pressed down.
No rules. No translation system. No tutorial pop-up.
Just me, walking blind in a world that didn't care I had no idea what I was doing.
People still threw me glances, some curious, some cautious. The hoodie. The soda. The expression of someone barely keeping it together.
I pushed forward anyway.
Turning a corner, I found a plaza nestled between stone buildings, centered around a wide, circular fountain. Water spilled lazily from the mouth of a dragon-headed spout, and benches wrapped the edge like an open invitation.
It was peaceful. Ordinary, even. The kind of quiet I desperately needed.
Then I looked up.
The castle.
It towered above the city from a hilltop perch, its white walls and elegant spires rising like something out of a painting. Not oppressive, just... grand. Majestic. A centerpiece to the entire skyline, gleaming in the sun like it was proud of itself.
If someone had asked me to picture "fantasy royalty," this was pretty much it.
'Okay... that's kind of beautiful, actually.'
'That's probably the royal castle. Or at least some important government building. If I'm thinking of fantasy clichés, shouldn't I have been summoned there?'
But seeing as I'd popped into existence in a piss-scented alley and nobody had come looking for me, I figured I wasn't exactly a VIP guest.
Finally resting my sore ass on the fountain's surprisingly comfortable stone bench, I let out a long, exhausted sigh.
'This is not how I expected my day to go.'
Slumping forward, I found myself slipping into old habits, my fingers rose to my bangs without thinking, the same nervous tic that always surfaced when I was overwhelmed and alone.
What I felt, and then saw, did absolutely nothing to improve my mental state.
My hair, once a solid dark brown, was now white.
Not just "a few stress streaks," white.
I'm talking full-blown, silver fox in his seventies, but weirdly not balding white.
Eyes wide, I yanked my hand away and leaned over the fountain to check my reflection in the rippling water. What stared back at me confirmed the worst: white eyebrows. White hair.[1]
Perfect.
'This day just keeps getting better, doesn't it?'
Once again, I plopped down on the bench, utterly overwhelmed, mentally, emotionally, maybe even spiritually.
Thankfully, that's when the universe finally threw me a lifeline.
It came in the form of gasps and hushed whispers that rippled across the plaza, snapping me out of my daze. I glanced up and realized every pair of eyes was now on me. Or rather, on the man walking straight toward me.
He stood out immediately.
Handsome, with bright red hair and a posture that radiated confidence, he wore a pristine white-trimmed uniform. I'd seen similar ones on a few people in the crowd earlier, maybe some kind of official outfit?
A massive sword hung at his side, casual as anything, like it belonged there. The scabbard was a flawless white with gold inlays, the guard wrapped in elegant filigree, and the pommel?
A spear tip.
Weird.
Everything about him screamed main character energy, and judging by the way the crowd parted around him and the plaza had gone quiet, he wasn't just here to see the sights.
I had the distinct feeling this had something to do with me.
"Excuse me, sir. I couldn't help but notice, you seemed rather distraught. Are you alright?"
His voice was calm and warm, like a perfect spring day that leaves you feeling content and relaxed.
'This insanely popular dude is talking to me… because I look upset? Did somebody report me?'
I blinked up at him.
"Ah, sorry," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "Didn't mean to bring down the public mood or anything. Just... rough day, you know?"
I let out a dry little laugh. Yeah. Rough was one hell of an understatement.
To my surprise, he smiled.
"You're not in any trouble at all. I was merely concerned about your well-being. My name is Reinhard van Astrea. Might I have the pleasure of learning yours?"
My eyebrows went up. Kindness like that wasn't what I expected, especially not wrapped in that much polish and sword.
But it cracked through the weight in my chest just enough for a smile to creep in.
"Ethan Caldwell. Pleasure to meet you, Reinhard."
I stood and offered a hand, unsure if that was a faux pas or not, but figuring that at this point, etiquette could take a number and wait in line behind "entirely new world" and "magic blob went into my chest and made me feel like dying."
For a moment, Reinhard hesitated. His eyes widened just slightly, not with offense, but with surprise.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[2]
Momentarily caught off guard by the stranger's openness, Reinhard blinked.
It wasn't every day someone spoke so casually to the Sword Saint.
But there was no arrogance in Ethan's voice. No fear either. Just... sincerity. Tired, raw sincerity.
Reinhard quickly shook off the surprise and accepted the handshake, clasping the young man's hand in his own. The grip was awkward, likely unfamiliar with formalities, but honest.
And that's when the Divine Protection of Empathy stirred.
A soft current of intent and nature flowed into him as their hands touched, as if the world briefly whispered a judgment only Reinhard could hear.
Kindness. Thoughtfulness. Caution smothered by confusion. A soul frayed at the edges but held together by quiet decency.
'He's lost,' Reinhard realized. 'But he means no harm.'
And beyond that, potential.
Reinhard couldn't place it, but something within the young man pulled at his numerous divine protections. They responded to him, not enough to cry danger, but enough to say, 'this meeting matters.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I noticed Reinhard looking at me for a second longer than felt normal, like he was reading a book only he could see.
But then he smiled again, calm and reassuring.
"Thank you, Ethan. It's truly a pleasure."
The crowd, finally realizing nothing dramatic was happening, slowly resumed their business, returning to casual chatter and strolls beneath the sunlit plaza. Still, a few lingered, sneaking glances at the red-haired man now standing beside me.
With introductions complete, Reinhard spoke again, voice calm, steady.
"Is there any way I could assist you? I am a Royal Knight of Lugunica, after all. It would be both my duty and my honor."
'Name of the city or country finally obtained: Lugunica. Check.'
I glanced at him again, absorbing the genuine warmth practically radiating from him. There wasn't a trace of deceit in his expression, and while a part of me screamed to stay cautious, another part, maybe the desperate, exhausted one, wanted to believe he was exactly what he seemed.
There was also that strange pressure behind his words. Like some invisible force was coaxing me to trust him. A feeling of comfort that brushed against my mind and whispered You're safe.
Like maybe… just maybe, he wouldn't have me dissected if I asked for help and told him what I really was.
'God, I hope he's not just a master-class actor.'
I met his eyes and exhaled.
"Well, Reinhard... I seem to be in a bit of a situation."
I paused.
Then laid it all out.
"I'm not from this world. I was just minding my own business when I blinked and suddenly found myself in a filthy alley. I've got no possessions beyond what I'm wearing, no clue where I am, except for the name you just gave me, and no idea where I'll be staying tonight. Oh, and just for fun, there was this weird black box with a squirming purple blob that launched itself into my chest and gave me what I can only describe as a brain-melting death vision."
I spread my arms with a dry smile.
"All in all? Pretty bad day."
Reinhard's brow furrowed as I spoke, his expression shifting from concern to something closer to sorrow. When I finished, he hesitated, then asked softly:
"That sounds… terrible. Are you truly saying you come from beyond the Great Waterfall?"
I tilted my head. "The Great Waterfall? I mean, I don't know what that is, but if that's your poetic way of saying 'another world,' then yeah. That's me."
His eyes widened slightly at my confirmation.
Then he nodded, thoughtful.
"I believe you. I carry the Divine Protection of Wind Reading; it allows me to sense the truth in spoken words."
'Wait, so he's a walking lie detector? Divine Protections? Man…'
A pause. His gaze drifted downward, thoughtful again.
"You mentioned a strange blob… and a box?"
Only then did I remember I still had the damn thing.
"Right, hang on." I reached into my hoodie pocket and pulled it out. "Here. It was inside this. Popped out, dove into my chest like a heat-seeking parasite, and left me with white hair and a killer migraine."
He took the box from my hands, slowly, delicately. His fingers brushed across its surface, expression darkening.
There was recognition in his eyes. And discomfort.
"I have some ideas about what this could be..." he said, trailing off before looking back at me.
A moment passed. Something settled in his posture.
Then Reinhard smiled, gently, like he'd reached a decision.
"How would you like to come stay with me?"
"I can provide you with a place to stay while you get your bearings in this world."
He extended his hand again, not just in greeting this time, but as an offer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reinhard watched the young man closely, hand still extended.
Most people hesitated around him. Bowed. Stammered. Tried to impress or placate him.
But Ethan? He spoke plainly. Honestly. Even now, with exhaustion in his voice and a half-joke on his lips, there was no mask. No attempt to manipulate. Just raw transparency.
It was refreshing. Disarming, even.
And beneath that, Reinhard felt it, the spark. Not just kindness, not just decency… but potential. The Divine Protection of Empathy continued to pulse gently in his Od, and with it came a silent understanding:
This one is worth protecting.
If he brought Ethan home, no one could question it. The man was displaced, clearly tied to a potent power, and bore signs of something... extraordinary. Reinhard could justify his presence easily.
But beyond the political angle, something deeper stirred in his chest.
Loneliness.
A quiet ache he had carried for years, hidden beneath armor and expectation. Friends were rare. Equals even rarer. People who looked at him like a person, rarer still.
And Ethan had done just that.
Maybe… he wouldn't look at me as "the Sword Saint." Maybe he'd just see me as Reinhard.
That hope was all he needed.
He smiled softly, with sincerity, not as a knight, but as a man.
"Come stay with me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As kind as Reinhard had been so far, I still couldn't bring myself to blindly accept the offer. I wasn't a fool. Although considering I'd already laid out my otherworlder status to him, he could just officially take me in regardless of my desires. So really, I was a fool.
But I still felt like I had to prod.
So I met his eyes and asked, "What do you have to gain from helping me out?"
He didn't flinch or take offense. Instead, he shook his head gently, still calm.
"Nothing immediate. But I can sense the potential within you, not just through my divine protections, but in the way you carry yourself. I believe that with time, you may grow into someone the kingdom needs. If you'd allow it, I'd like to help train you… and in return, perhaps hear stories of your world. I've always wondered what lies beyond the Great Waterfall."
That answer… felt honest. Balanced.
He wasn't pretending this was just charity. There was trust, but also a reason, a shared benefit in that I'd be expected to contribute to this kingdom. That made it easier to accept.
I took his hand again, this time with a real smile, brighter, warmer than the small one I'd offered earlier.
"Thanks, Rein. Truly. I'd be completely lost without you, man."
His smile widened at the nickname, and the tension I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying finally eased.
Then he lifted a finger to his chin, thoughtful. "Hmm. We'll need to stop by a guard station so I can inform the captain I'm ending my patrol early."
My eyes widened. "Ah! You really don't have to do that, I can just wait here or wander until your shift's done."
Reinhard tilted his head slightly, studying me, like he was evaluating whether I was capable of surviving ten minutes unsupervised without being mugged by a passing squirrel. "It's no trouble. If I'm urgently needed, they can reach me through a Conversation Mirror."
And just like that, he turned and began walking.
I stood there, still processing, until he glanced back and motioned for me to follow. I let out a small sigh and hurried after him.
It only took about five minutes to reach the nearest guard station. I waited outside, watched closely, probably, by armored knights who stood outside the entrance, still as statues. Hard to say if they were staring with those full-face helmets, but I felt like could feel their eyes all the same.
Then the door creaked open behind me, and Reinhard stepped out into the sunlight. The knights saluted him with a sharp clang of gauntlets to chest. He responded with a kind smile and respectful bow before turning back to me.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long, Ethan?"
Still a little stunned by how polite this guy was, I just shook my head and smiled. "Not at all, Rein. You good to go?"
He blinked, like it caught him off guard that I even asked, then smiled again. "Yes. We can finally head to the Astrea estate."
I nodded, and without another word, we set off side by side, winding through the city's cobblestone streets.
For the first time since arriving in this world, I felt something solid under my feet.
I had a friend, or at least a companion. A path to walk on.
And with that, something to tether myself to, so I didn't slip into the abyss.
We walked in comfortable silence, the cobbled streets stretching ahead as sunlight filtered through high stone archways and trailing vines. The hum of daily life filled the quiet as I simply took in the sights, vendors calling out prices, wheels creaking over uneven stone, distant bells marking the hour.
To our left, a little girl with blond hair ran out from a stall, her tiny boots slapping against the stone. Her father caught her mid-charge, lifting her high into the air with a laugh that echoed down the street. The girl squealed, kicking her feet with delight, and the mother clapped joyfully from the stall's doorway.
I smiled at the scene, just for a moment, before something snagged underfoot.
My shoe caught on a loose brick, and I stumbled forward, catching myself before I could do a full face-plant into the street.
Reinhard had turned instantly, his hand half-raised to steady me, eyes wide with concern he didn't quite hide in time.
I straightened up quickly, brushing my sleeve like it hadn't happened, and offered him a sheepish smile.
"I'm good. Just... not used to fantasy paving work."
He chuckled lightly, but the worry in his eyes lingered a moment longer before he nodded and kept walking.
I fell back into step beside him, but the smile faded quickly from my lips.
'I can do this.'
I repeated it in my head like a mantra. Quiet. Firm. Desperate.
Because just seeing that family, just that one perfect little moment, had been enough to tear open something I'd buried under exhaustion and adrenaline.
'I might never see my parents again.'
And that thought hurt more than I could afford to show.
[1] Imagine a kinder Regulus. One who doesn't scream about his rights every two seconds, that's what Ethan looks like. I'm very creative!
[2] Yeah, rough pov divider... take solace in the fact that I probably won't do too many pov switches, at least for my current drafts, I haven't done many. I think there might actually only be 1 more in another chapter ahead, so don't let this spook you too bad.