Joshua Grayson made his debut into the new world with a resounding bang! A nightmarishly loud noise, almost as if it was a knell to some infernal summon. The unfamiliar boy crashed against a metal object, and the pilgrim went down hard.
Joshua found himself cast upon the unfeeling earth. After the door he had been pushing had disappeared, his balance had been thrown off, leaving him with no support and one way to go. Flustered, the boy stood up, brushed himself off, and surveyed his surroundings.
*An alternate world, is it? Can't tell if I'm exactly excited about it or not. After all, doesn't this mean I need to find a way back? At least I'm relieved I get somewhat of a break. As long as it's a relatively mild one. I'm certainly in no rush to get back because…well, they'll probably be glad I'm gone.*
His surroundings were outstandingly lively. An uncommonly beautiful fountain stood tall in the middle of a town square, its restless waters gleaming in the sunlight. The fountain was accompanied by ensembles of performers. Some were musicians, whose percussion instruments resembled several different designs Josh had grown accustomed to back on Earth. Some others coaxed completely foreign tunes, resonating from instruments that were unlike any he had ever seen before.
Others were dancers, whose ceaseless rhythms beat out a tune that recalled, faintly and and unbidden, the calls of the birds of dawn. Some were singers, whose shrill and unrelenting voices rose above all other sources of noise, seemingly swallowing the square whole. He pursued a corner of silence, unable to find a single place where the oh so very foreign voices could not pierce his ears. In due time, he found a place on a wooden bench, facing toward the fountain, on the outskirts of the square.
Reminiscing, Josh slipped back to how he'd ended up here.
Only moments ago he had been pushing a metal door in order to enter what every youth dreaded most—high school. However, within the confines of his school, he'd had a rather… well…what most would call the average high school experience. …but that's off track. Strangely, it had not been his balance that had betrayed him, and sent him spiraling to the dirt, but the door. For it had, in fact, disappeared like it had never existed, as if the abyss itself had claimed it.
Thankfully, his clothes had been taken with him to wherever he resided currently. Also, to his surprise, his backpack as well. His familiar green hoodie—his favorite—was still with him. Josh exhaled, the sound of quiet relief filling his ears. He used the hoodie frequently, but its purpose wasn't to warm him up as one might expect. Instead, he used it as a way to seem thicker than he was.
*I still have it.*
"So…how exactly am I supposed to get back, anyway?"
If one were to look objectively at the youth's situation, one might say he was in dire need of assistance. To start it off, he had no money. Currency was one of the most important factors back on Earth, and it likely was here too.
*Assuming this place has any form of currency, of course. I'll assume it does. Which means I'm currently broke, without any steady or unsteady source of income, and without any connections. I have no background, no former experience working, and I'm likely unaware of the customs and even required skills that they may have had in basic elementary education.*
His position was very much a terrible one.
*But I should really stop with that mindset. People out there may be subject to torture, starving to death, and dying of dehydration. To some, my situation could be considered privileged or an object of envy.*
*Though, that doesn't mean I shouldn't just say it's a positive one. I very well could end up dying of starvation or dehydration soon enough. I've never done this before, but I guess I need to start providing for myself, huh? Your parents won't always be there to support you, isn't that right? Oh…my…parents.*
Immediately, his train of thought derailed.
"I…should probably get back to them, shouldn't I?"
Although, if one listened closely, they would hear a sliver of hesitation creep in.
Another hindrance would be that of his unfamiliarity with the culture.
*It's very possible I may end up meeting some suspicious figures. If so, I don't really have a plan, but with my unfamiliarity, avoiding interaction would be the wisest course of action. After all, nonverbal communication may have different meaning here, so I might end up starting something.*
*In response to that matter, observation may be of great use, yeah? But I also may not know what's required here. There may be such a thing like paying any time I enter a building. Or there may even be built in customs and prejudice. Racism or sexism may be prominent here. If so, I must be careful. If I even look someone in the eye wrong, it's possible that it could lead to devastating repercussions.*
*My best option is to keep my head down, and watch how others communicate. After all, communication is the creation of meaning, right? If I want to convey something to someone, then I need to know what things mean.*
Sighing, the boy shifted. Another glance around caught the glint of a window pane, and with it came a sudden, unwelcome thought. The sunlight, pouring down across the unfamiliar landscape, hit him with the extremity of a spotlight, leaving him uncomfortable and exposed.
*Is it possible…this is the sign I was asking for earlier? My second chance? Even if it is…I don't know if I deserve one.*
A second chance…the notion felt almost alien to him. Back home, Josh had ruined what little promise his life had held. The failure had been at no point a secret to those who knew him, and those who didn't, but here… here, no one knew his name. He was nameless. The thought of a fresh start, of a clean slate…it began to fill him up with hope. But he knew he should know better. Sins aren't erased with distance after all. He wouldn't be forgiven just because he had moved. Whatever burdens he had acquired back on Earth, would stay fastened to him even now.
Why not forget about them, then? Why not cast them aside into the depths of his mind? Why let the weight of those memories burden him further? Like a temptation on his shoulder, the option surfaced.
However…
There are some memories that should be kept, and others that ought to be forgotten. The death of a friend, for instance, was one that should never be forgotten. Who could erase the precious memories shared with them, and permit themselves to forget them like forgetfulness freed them of their pain? But, Josh's situation was different than that, darker. Forget it? To forget it seemed impossible, and to him, the act would only add another sin to his ever-growing pile.
*…*
*So, am I…*
Bang!
"Gah?!"
Before Josh stood a man clad in a weathered brown jacket, two swords strapped to his back, with one already drawn and glinting in the harsh sunlight. The man seemed to be middle age, maybe in his early thirties or late twenties, but his age was not what intrigued Josh. The man had come into being in an instant, as if some spirit had conjured him from thin air. Josh strained to trace the origin of the sound that had announced the man's presence, but his efforts were in vain; no matter how hard he searched, the noise had left behind no source, and no explanation.
His silver sword gleamed with an unsettling brilliance, the color of liquid mercury. Yet, the man who wielded such a refined weapon bore little of the same dazzling qualities. Frankly, he looked scarcely more presentable than a vagrant that Josh would see out at the store every so often. He looked…like a bum. His face was unshaven, his clothes rumpled, his jacket worn, and how he presented himself left no doubt in Josh's mind that he was not of nobility or royalty. So then, what was he?
"Kid, you're who I'm looking for, correct? The Tiga applicant?"
His words were short and clipped, and sounded exasperated, as if he was already tiring of the conversation. In his voice there was the promise of insolence, rudeness, vulgar behavior, and of a coarse and terrible attitude. But Josh gave little thought to the matter. His mind had wandered elsewhere.
*The Tiga applicant? He seems to have me mistaken for someone else? I should—could this be part of the sign as well? A no-show, and a mix-up? Is God on my side finally? With no money and no place to go, I'm almost positive that whatever this 'Tiga' is, is better than this.*
"Yes, I am the Tiga applicant. I'm who you're looking for."
It was strange—the words. When had Josh ever been what someone was looking for? To hear such a claim…it was almost unsettling. That was the first time he'd uttered a sentence like that, and it gave him a sense of exhilaration and a small thrill. It was a blatant and obvious lie…if the man had known who he was. But here…
"Alright kid, your coming with me. Let's get this show on the road."