That man, Jerry, had done something. Said something to that planet's Soul about implementing this human tool into the lives of other civilizations, but what and why? It became clear that the young woman brought him there only to benefit her people; she wasn't concerned with his well-being at all.
Vin also had to be thoughtful of his people. After the King grabbed and shoved the skateboard into Vin's chest, he dropped the board and kicked it away. 'Gotta assume this isn't just for entertainment.'
A servant retrieved the skateboard and looked to the King for further instructions. To Vin's utmost surprise, the large man responded with violence. 'Go figure.'
The royal brought a sword to his neck and glared at him. 'Do it, or else,' he deduced. Vin raised his hand and flicked the blade away from his neck before getting the board and dropping it flat on its wheels. 'If that's how you want to play it.'
The road was also smooth, and there was a slight incline of land, which meant the skateboard began to roll downward when it landed. Vin aligned himself with the tool, then crudely jumped up and landed on the deck, which was the wooden surface bolted to the wheels. After all those years, even he wobbled a bit, but he eventually stunted with a slight downward pull.
Vin climbed on top of the wheeled tool in one attempt, which surprised some Ravenours, but they mostly withheld that data from their stern expressions. Vin, on the other hand, found a slight twitch above his brow. No one in their right mind got on an idle skateboard by jumping on it vertically; that was a surefire way to crack your skull. It felt gross and immoral for him to utilize the tool like that, but he only needed to play along.
He scanned the faces of his viewers to gauge their moods, 'Doesn't seem like anyone can tell that this is a disgusting way to mount. Good.’
Soon, a crate of more skateboards was brought and dropped in the center of the crowd. There was audible disagreement between those in purple and red, but the King's oppression settled the matter quickly. After some dialogue, a select few armed warriors collected a skateboard. The light-haired Ravenour was wrapping the injury on his companion's chest, yet they were forcefully selected for this experimental team.
The moon had fully ascended to its rightful throne above them, leading the charge against the darkness of that town alongside lesser torches. With more and more citizens of that place arriving to spectate the human, the pressure was on for the now-trainees.
Twenty young warriors gave Vin their full attention. With that many skateboards, they would have to have robbed an entire store. Their average height and muscle mass far exceeded that of humans. That, and their serious airs, would make seeing them fall so much more pleasing.
Vin watched the beginners swiftly and almost proudly position their skateboards on the ground. They all immediately noticed the wheeled tool begin a downward roll, and instead of catching it with one of their feet, they bent over to grab it and hold it still. Naturally, the moment they straightened their backs again, the board continued to escape with gravity.
Out of the twenty, a third felt confident enough to fully commit to the exercise immediately. The Ravenours placed the skateboard down and then launched themselves onto the deck, which immediately FLUNG it from beneath their feet and sent it barrelling dozens of paces away. Heavy thumps sounded as the robust brutes simultaneously crashed on the unforgiving ground.
Vin exhaled and shook his head, but none of the viewers laughed, nor did they seem like they wanted to. Each of the rookie Ravenours picked themselves up fairly quickly after suffering minor scrapes. Had they been humans, at least one of their heads would have been leaking. They were barbarians, but Vin couldn't help but recognize how temperate most of them remained. There were some frustrated growls while individuals chased down their escaped skateboards, but it wasn't out of humiliation.
After the first, larger batch had fallen, the remaining quarter looked even more discouraged, but Vin wouldn't let them just watch. He glanced at the Ravenours, who hadn't moved yet, and asked, "What are you waiting for?"
He watched indifferently as each of them tried and fell. By then, a few of the first group had returned and made their second attempt, only to fall again. There were many more tumbles and groans, and the accumulation of their injuries became more apparent alongside red spots formed on the ground where they'd repeatedly fallen. Vin didn't sympathize; his broken wrist, sore legs, and the sensation of his rumbling stomach consuming itself kept him vengeful.
The youthful Ravenour with light-colored dragon scales was getting closer than the other 19. Even realized he could hold the board idle with his foot until he was ready to get on. Maybe he'd had a knack for it, or he'd just been trying even harder in ventilation after the General went for his and his comrade's life. The princess's occasional sneaky glances at the injured wide-handed man revealed there was more to the trio than simple guard duty. Her face was impassive, but her yellowish spirit flickered with shades of cyan concern.
Vin stopped and shook his head. Twice was no coincidence; being able to understand something as intangible as a soul was too abnormal. Nothing like the few fictions he'd seen where the mages shot fireballs from a staff; at least magic like that would protect him while having special eyes only allowed insight into someone's mood. Further, it hadn't even worked on everyone he'd encountered, making it worthless.
At Least four hours of grueling supervision had passed before the King allowed them all respite. The whole experience hurt Vin more than it hurt them. Their battered bodies would recover sooner than his frustration at watching them make a mockery of the sport. And having access to a skateboard and not riding at all was torture in its own right.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
A servant quickly collected the skateboards from the warriors but had to tug a bit harder to dislodge one from Vin's grasp.
Before Vin could consider what'd happen next, a small brigade formed at his heel. He gathered his Journal, and soon after, he was ushered further down the road.
<>
Despite the session being over four hours, the townsfolk hadn't dispersed but had actually increased in volume once word spread. As Vin trekked down the considerable stone road that separated thousands of buildings, he detected the change in their opinion of him. It still wasn't positive, but at the very least, none of them looked at him with disgust.
Hungry and aching, he was led minutes down the expansive road where they reached the town square. He didn't try to hide his outrage while looking at a stone statue of the Phoenix. He slowed just a little, but a firm hand pushed him onward.
He estimated a roughly thirty minutes to walk from the gate to the castle at the top of a hill. There was a flowerbed on both sides of the structure and a tall light post lit with flames. The dark stone building had windows on all four levels, and large purple banners brandished the symbol of a black rising Phoenix.
While the King and his entourage climbed stairs inside, Vin was driven to the darker, sketchier side of the building, where a long stairwell led him into a small, barely lit jail. It was narrow, like a glorified hallway. Only candles revealed the layout of brick and cold steel. It was simple: just four closely placed cells on the left side of the dungeon and a single wooden desk on the right.
Vin was placed in the very last cell, blessed with a view of three dreary brick walls, a frisbee-sized hole in the ground, and a metal barred door. Most of the escorts exited, but one stayed. An older Ravenour who looked like his patience was thinner than his graying beard. The man lingered for a moment, watching the entrance to the jail, and soon, he welcomed a woman with an eclectic sense of fashion. She was dressed in a long gown made entirely of white feathers. Her skin was unusually tinted, almost a creamy pinkish. Her scales were also light in tone, and her horns curved out, then inward, to form an incomplete heart shape.
Vin, who'd been at the cell's entrance, smelled her enter first. She smelled like she'd just been rolling in the courtyard's flowerbed. It wasn't unpleasant, just unusually vivid, like the garden from his dreams.
This new figure stopped right outside Vin's cell and smiled at him with narrow, mature eyes and full, glossy lips. She unexpectedly leaned in, reached through the bars, and gently grabbed his broken wrist before pulling it up to her chest. Vin winched, but before he could repel her, a benevolent white glow radiated from her hand and numbed his pain.
That light masked them both, making her look inexplicably angelic despite the fiendish horns. Vin found himself observing her tranquil face for a moment and then focused on the sensation he felt. It was familiar, healing in properties, just like when the spirits appeared. Though it was less galvanizing, it felt like a glow had physically entered his flesh with billions of tiny hands and manually repaired the damage. His wrist was healing over time; he could feel his wrist joints scramble together, patching up the fracture. And, within the minute, he could rotate his hand without ache.
Before Vin could offer a word of thanks, the silent maiden wandered from his view and out of the jail. Vin clenched and released his fist, regaining his sense of it and admiring the feat that'd just taken place. Unlike the hazardous flames the Phoenix generated, that felt like true mythical magic.
The jail Warden had exited with the woman, so Vin planned to use that peace to read. He wanted to know if he could get stronger through quests, learn magic that'd make mountains slide, or fly at the speed of sound. He started by flipping through human journal entries, which already had hundreds of thousands, if not more, of pages. Most of them were of things already known to Earth, including typical cattle, plants, and tools like hammers. Unfortunately, there was no hint as to where his family was teleported; he just had to assume they were out there and, hopefully, safe.
Vin's reading session was interrupted when he heard the jingle of keys. Soon, his cell was opened, and the Warden plopped a wooden tray on the ground. Bits of grain and soupy liquid spilled on impact, and the man closed the cell. They walked away, then mumbled lamely under their breath before returning and opening the cell again to place a cup of water he'd forgotten.
Vin waited until the Warden sat at their desk to inspect the tray. The grain was similar to rice, topped with a kind of green bean. He'd definitely seen it in the forest while traveling. There was an entire chicken drum and a chunky slop at the edge of the tray. His lifeless eyes found a spark at the sight of an astonishingly generous amount of food. A line of drool dripped from his mouth onto the tray, which was the starter pistol to his indulgence.
Barbarism must have been contagious because he ripped through the meal with his dirtied hands like a man who hadn't eaten in years. Which he hadn't.
Well, not with his own hands. The image of the flaming bird with a mouth full of insects had been more vivid than he'd liked.
Vin echoed a hearty burp through the jail, then let out a soul-healing exhale before slumping against the cell's coarse brick wall.
"Alright, first," he mumbled, opening his Journal.
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[Discovered By:] Vin Dance
[Discovered On:] Date: 1/1/300 A.D
[Name: ] Green Bean String
[Notes: ] It's safe to touch.
[End]
[Updated: 1/1/300 A.D, A minute ago]
>It's also safe to eat.
[End]
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'Wonder why that Soul doesn't link the Journals across all races. If it really wanted humans to adapt quickly, having the same knowledge as every other species would be fair...'
'Right…' he thought with a yawn. The quick consumption of calories, topped with the past day, had crept across his form, making it heavy. His eyes fluttered, and he felt his hands loosen their grip and drop the Journal.
"Not yet," he said in encouragement to himself, but slumber was aggressive with its raid on his consciousness. Details of his setting were loose as a haze enveloped his mind and eyes. With his body shutting down, he felt cold, and in his last act, he untied the oversized coat around his waist. It didn't even reach the man's heels, yet it was large enough to blanket his entire body like a bedsheet.
Fully encumbered by fatigue, his eyes shut while a final notion faded: 'The people here are way too big…'