May 16

I met someone interesting…

…and I can say it’s been a long time since something like that has happened. My days, usually so filled with monotony and routine… you could say they’ve taken a turn.

Today I was almost killed by Mr. Haynes. I mean, I’ve always disliked him, but his apparent homicidal tendencies have flown completely under my radar until now. I have learned that this man was in fact not a middle school history teacher, but actually a kind of interdimensional villain—or crossworld I should say, I guess that’s the right term—crossworld villain.

Anyway, he tried to kill me. Chronomancy is apparently the type of magic he used. It left me bloody, bruised, and broken. I haven’t felt that busted up since the Nymian battle of Tyrun Hill, and that’s saying something.

I was helped by a strange little creature, one who mended my injuries and took me out of the way of danger. I know nothing of his kind (I’ve decided on saying “he” because the creature – Orvalys – insists he doesn’t care what I call him, but he speaks English like a fifty-year-old man). I am choosing to see him as human even though he’s the furthest thing from human I’ve ever seen. In fact, he’s like nothing I’ve ever seen in either of the worlds I’ve been in — well, I guess I shouldn’t say either, I should say any because today the number of worlds went from two to three.

I’ve obviously asked Orv a million and a half questions since then, and he’s answered a few. He keeps saying I need to ease into all of this, “not all at once,” he tells me—he’s said that several times, “not all at once.” I find that annoying, though I suppose it’s the smart thing to do. I took Nymia pretty much all at once and it nearly killed me—it almost killed me a lot. What I can say is that I now know there are many, many worlds. “Without number,” Orv says, and people traveling from one to another isn’t as uncommon as I previously suspected. I’m not so sure how many places Orv has hopped around to, but I get the feeling it’s a lot of them. Also, not everyone who engages in crossworld travel is a good person. I learned that the hard way. Orv told me that Mr. Haynes—or Professor Heiny—is wanted for crimes in something like seventeen different worlds. I asked Orvalys what Haynes had meant when he told me he “wanted my energy” and Orv said he didn’t know, but it probably wasn’t for anything good. That’s one of those “not all at once” things I suppose. Anyway on to the important part—

I went through a portal.

I can’t fully describe what it was like. I was standing in a tree-ringed field of sunflowers with the taste of vomit in my mouth looking through that familiar, but dizzying window into another place, and this time it was a place I was going to go to.

It wasn’t my Nymia, but it was also not just fiery space or deep blackness or a wintery wasteland. No, I looked through the portal, and on the other side I saw a world — a new world.

I saw mist clinging to violet trees, speckled copses of glowing grass, stone darker than black night, and air I’d never smelt before.

And emanating from it all — an energy I’d never encountered.

Orvalys, my strange new friend, stepped through and motioned for me to follow.

And I didn’t even look back.

Jack closed the cover of his notebook, it was now fairly stained with his own blood from the day before. He placed it and his pen in a small compartment inside his new, rough, blue canvas bag and looked out over the landscape expanding in front of him.

He was leaning on the railing of an airship, hovering twenty or so feet above the ground. He and Orvalys had been lucky enough to be picked up about a mile after crossing through the gateway. The local inhabitants resembled Earth humans closely enough, but they were slightly taller, a bit more gangly and their skin had a greenish hue to it that made Jack’s own skin feel very yellowish-red in comparison. Their hair was also very pale, with some straying almost to fully white, and the corneas of their eyes were different shades of violet-brown.

In all honesty, the Tinarians probably should have been more in question of Jack’s appearance, but Orv took whatever attention they had. Having never seen anything quite like the homunculus before, the crew needed a bit of convincing to let them both on the craft. Apparently, they at least partially understood the concept of a scientific experiment gone wrong. Jack was quite surprised they were allowed to board. Orvalys mumbled something about the “Law of Strangeness” and said he’d explain more later. Obviously, neither of them spoke a word of the other’s language, but Orvalys had learned quickly enough to discover it was called Tinarian, named after their land – Tinaria.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Apparently, we’re on our way to some sort of trading port,” the homunculus said, appearing at Jack’s elbow. “More than that I couldn’t really understand. By tomorrow morning I’ll have processed more of the grammar.”

“The plants glow,” was all Jack said.

Orvalys joined him at the railing. “Yes, a type of bioluminescence I believe. It’s a pretty common evolutionary feature in a lot of worlds. Your Earth was surprisingly devoid.”

Jack continued to look out over the landscape. “We had a few glowing plants in Nymia. Historians said they were created by powerful ancient wizards who wove seeds with fire.”

“Sounds like psychic biological manipulation,” Orvalys said. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“Magic,” Jack said softly. “It was magic.”

“Yes, of course,” Orv ceded. “Each world has its own way of classifying the powers that work within it. Magic is as valid a word as any. Classification systems are as fascinating as they are varied and…” The homunculus stopped suddenly as he noticed Jack calmly looking out over the landscape. He cleared its throat and gently said, “I apologize. I’m going a little fast, aren’t I? Why don’t you tell me about Nymia.”

Jack smiled. “I mean there was a lot of Magic – beating through your veins, in your breath even. It was complex when woven together, but beautiful and simple at the core.”

“I take it you were adept in these abilities?”

“I learned a thing or two,” Jack said, seeming to come back to himself. “Is there magic here?”

Orvalys shrugged. “No idea. I have to learn everything the old-fashioned way — through interactions. They don’t have those streams of information constantly beaming through the air like Earth did. Which reminds me.” The homunculus suddenly reached his mechanical arm deep inside his mouth and grabbed. There was a disturbing sort of gurgle as something came loose from the roof of his mouth. Upon removing it, Jack could see it looked like a sort of small antennae covered in a dark green goo.

“Don’t need this anymore,” Orv said, tossing it from the ship. “Goodbye wifi connectivity.”

“Hm,” Jack watched it fall and bounce into the strangely colored bushes below before turning back to Orv. “Does Earth have Magic?”

“Not any that’s still around that’s for sure,” Orvalys said with his hand still partially inside its mouth. “Don’t get me wrong, the technology is great! Confusing and muddled, but great! It seems like you all sort of went really hard with the whole electricity thing and kind of forgot the rest of your world’s native powers.”

“Oh. Native Powers?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s possible some humans could still be tapped into something,” Orv finished whatever he had been doing to fix the inside of his mouth and withdrew his hand. “I wasn’t there long enough to tell.”

“Our Magic is gone,” Jack said. “That kind of makes sense.”

“More like… unused,” Orvalys said. “Forgotten, but it’s still there, waiting for someone to pay attention again.”

Jack nodded. “That’s a nice thought I guess.”

Orvalys eyed him for a moment. “By the way, I meant to mention that you seem to be taking this pretty well.”

“Taking what well?”

The homunculus shrugged again. “Well, usually when people Wayfare for the first time they have a – I believe the correct term is – a freakout?”

Jack laughed. “I’ve done this before, remember?”

“Wayfaring? Or freaking out?”

“Both I guess.”

“It was years ago,” Orvalys said. “I just wanted to be sure that it hadn’t worn off. That’s part of the Law of Strangeness as well.”

“I remember it like it was yesterday,” Jack said, “And I freaked out for sure, I’ll tell you that. That first day in Nymia, I was sure I was going to die six or seven separate times. First was dealing with the wiilv that made it through the portal and then a couple of träbläni hunters tried to chop us up. At the end of the night, I was wearing half of one shoe, soaked to the bone, and if Embr hadn’t channeled fire I…” He suddenly fell silent. Orv seemed to notice and he changed the subject.

“Well, I’m glad you’re adjusting well,” the little creature said. “Tomorrow there’ll be a whole lot more to do and see, and you’re still in pretty bad shape.”

“That’s the truth,” Jack said. He stood up from leaning on the railway and almost buckled under his own weight.

“I’ll help you to your room,” Orvalys said. “I’m not particularly big, but I’m surprisingly thick.”

Jack laughed. “Surprisingly thick? Is that supposed to be an English joke? Did you mean to do that?”

“I didn’t have time to study your humor extensively enough, so some inside jokes still elude me,” Orv said, helping Jack take a couple steps toward the interior of the craft.

“Does it count as an inside joke when the whole world is on the inside?”

“If you’re not from those worlds then yes,” Orvalys said. Jack suddenly came down wrong on one of his feet and cried out. Orv caught him before he hit the ground.

“Still some work to do. Tomorrow we’ll see what kind of medical supplies this world has.”