When I jumped inside the vortex, everything went black for a moment. Then, I opened my eyes — I found myself falling through a wormhole surrounded by clockwork. Panic surged through my veins as I tried to grasp anything to hold on to.
At the end of the wormhole, I see a white dot. Is that my destination? I braced myself for impact as I wrapped my hands around myself.
Upon reaching the white dot, I was sucked out of the wormhole, landing on the solid ground below on my back.
Thud!
"Ouch.."
I rubbed my back as I took on the environment around me. This place.. this isn't the France I know, we are back in the medieval era. My jaw dropped as I tried to process what just happened.
Suddenly, I felt a humming sound from my bag. I opened it to find the gospel glowing; I have never seen it reacting like this before.
I opened the inside to find that most of the pages are now completely blank except for the first page. On it reads — 'May 8, 1429'.
"Am I... stranded in the past?"
As panic started to overwhelm me, I suddenly heard footsteps, the sounds getting closer each time. I turned around to see the figure was now behind me, it's him.
"You look frightened. It's kinda amusing."
He extended his hand to me, and I was torn between accepting his help and finding a way out myself. But I know it'll be foolish to do so. I decided to accept his hand, as he helps me with my foot.
"Where did you take me, you sick bastard?"
He steps aside.
"Take a look for yourself."
I looked at him with uncertainty, but it's not the best time for debate now. I step forward, then I see it — a battlefield with corpses, gunpowder and wildfire.
Reynald stood beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Friend, let me welcome you to Orleans, May 1429. The bloody Hundred Years War."
My pupils shrank, and I looked at him with confusion and uneasiness. 1429? What am I doing in the 15th century? This must be a setup, an illusion perhaps.
"You're lying.. how come did we end up here, are you saying we—"
He cut me mid-sentence.
—time travel. Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
I stepped away from him and started pacing around. Everywhere I look, everything feels real. But how come?
"No.. but that's not possible.."
He walks beside me.
"Anything is possible with the gospel, my friend. Anything."
He opened his bag and pulled out the gospel and the quill. He started writing something on it.
"Speaking of which, we need a disguise."
Reynald tore the page that he was writing on, tearing it into two. He then threw the papers in the sky as it suddenly became larger in size, turning into white clothes as it enveloped our bodies.
Our seemingly modern clothing turned into a 15th-century white robe — is this what he means by disguise?
"Is this your idea of disguise?"
Reynald shrugged.
"As long as it works."
Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming towards our way, many footsteps. I turned around to see a group of French soldiers walking towards us.
Reynald places his hand on the hilt of his sword — we are strangers in this era, and any wrong move would not end with pleasantries.
One of the soldiers came forward. He is riding a horse; it seems he is the captain of the group.
"Civilians, this is a warzone. Return to safety immediately."
It seems that the disguise works. However, now we are left with two choices — comply or flee and escalate the matters at hand. I hope this cunning dimwit doesn't mess things up.
—Penning a new chapter…