Rain hit Arthur's face as he walked through muddy streets, his shoes sliding a bit. One minute, he was reading engineering books with a coffee. The next, he was in this strange, old place. He looked around. No cars, no lights, just horses pulling carts and a man yelling at a donkey. "No machines," he said quietly, pulling at the wet shirt someone gave him. It smelled like dirt, not like his usual clothes.
A low growl came through the rain. Arthur turned and saw a wolf in the shadows, its eyes bright. His heart beat fast, but he picked up a rock and threw it. The wolf ran away. "Still got it," he said, breathing easier.
"Hey! Stop!" a woman called out.
He stopped and looked. A woman stepped out of a small house. She had long, dark brown hair and green eyes that looked deep. Her torn dress fit her curvy body, showing off her chest and legs through a high cut. She held a basket of herbs. "You're wet! Who are you?" she asked, her voice soft but strong.
"Arthur. I'm not from here. Can I sleep somewhere?" he said, looking at the ground.
Her oldest daughter peeked out. "Mom, he smells weird…"
"Weird, huh?" Marianne said with a small, warm smile that felt a little flirty. She stepped closer, her hips moving a bit, and touched his arm lightly to pull him in. "Come inside. You'll get sick out there."
The door closed, and warmth hit Arthur with the smell of herbs and bread. He sat by the fire as Marianne lit a candle. The light showed her dress hugging her shape, but he looked at the wall. "Sit," she said, her voice nice. "I'm Marianne. These are my girls—Elise, twenty, strong and pretty; Clara, nineteen, slim and sharp; Sophie, eighteen, soft and shy. I think I'll adopt you."
Arthur blinked. "Adopt me? Just like that?" He rubbed his neck, glancing at her. Her green eyes twinkled, and she leaned forward a little, her dress showing more of her chest.
Elise leaned in, her arms looking firm, her shirt tight. "Do you know magic?"
"No," Arthur said. "I use ropes and wheels."
Clara tilted her head, her legs crossing, a smile on her face. "What's that?"
"Put a rope on a wheel, pull it, and lift things. It's smart, not magic," he said with a grin.
Sophie's eyes got big, her dress fitting her young shape. "Like magic?"
"No, just using my head," Arthur said.
Marianne put the candle down, her dress slipping to show her leg. "You're different. Good. Sit and get warm," she said, her voice a bit playful.
Dinner was on a rough table—hard bread, herby soup, and meat. Arthur poked at it, wondering how they ate this way. Marianne leaned over to pour him soup, her dress dipping to show her chest. "Where are you from, Arthur?" she asked.
"A place with machines. Noisy ones. People look at bright boxes all day," he said, eating a bite.
Elise whispered, "Bright boxes? Magic?"
"Kind of, but no magic. Just tools," Arthur said, laughing a little.
Clara uncrossed her legs, her skirt moving up a bit. "Sounds boring."
"It was," he said with a shrug.
Marianne sat back, her eyes on him, a warm look in them. "Machines, huh? Maybe you can help us. We have problems."
The girls nodded, though Sophie held her spoon tight, her dress showing her figure. Arthur felt a small tingle in his chest near Marianne. What's that? he thought, blaming the food.
Arthur lay on a straw bed in a spare room, looking at the ceiling. New world. No machines. Magic around, but I can't use it. I can still think, though. Make traps, pulleys, maybe a bath. He smiled, thinking of Marianne in a warm bath, then shook his head. The wind blew outside, and a thud sounded. Three pairs of eyes peeked in—Elise's steady look, Clara's quick glance, Sophie's shy peek. Marianne stepped up, her dress shifting to show her leg again. "That's not a wolf," she said quietly. "Trouble's coming, Arthur. We need you tomorrow."
He nodded, his heart speeding up. Bandits? I'll figure it out. The tingle came back, but he ignored it. This place wouldn't be lonely with them around.