Hugging the musket, I looked down the barrel and kept my finger at the trigger. I laid on the ground, watching the elves herding cattle. Masculine Dark Elves wrapped in the skin of animals like cheetahs prowled forth.
I paused. Firing onto another humanoid that was oblivious to our presence felt wrong. Perhaps it was due to the influence that city living had on me, I was a complete pacifist.
Still, when the shots rang out, the eleven heads swivelled and faced us. They spoke to the cattle, and the herd of cows quicken their footsteps.
"Help me!" A man yelled as a vine wrapped around his foot and hoisted him up. As the vine pinned him to the tree, more vines began wrapping around his neck, slowly suffocating him.
"Lemand het hom afgekap!" A shout caused two men to whip knives out to cut him down.
They were not ordinary traps, they seem sentient. These vines are not some rope, it was as the forest was actively fighting against our presence. My eyes were mesmerized by the vines strangling the man. His struggles only caused the vines to wrap even further around his neck. As he thrashed uselessly in the air, the vines kept slamming him against the tree. The two men trying to save him were hacking down the vines that threatened to wrap around them, and could do little to help their fellow comrade from meeting their maker.
"Skiet hulle neer!" Shots quickly rang out, as certain tense atmosphere fell on the men. Men were firing shots in rapid succession, trying their best to gun down all the elves. As the elves fell, I could only watch, tightening my grip against the trigger. As I turned to face that struggling man, I could see a lifeless corpse twitching on its death throes. The man's supposed rescuers gave up on their meaningless endeavours and focused on firing more shots to take down the elves.
The elves never bothered to close the gap. Their spears could never reach us. But every metre they fled just caused more men to fall. Eventually it turned into a full-scale route, as the pointy-ears fled for their lives. They abandoned the cattle, who were scattering amidst the sound of gunfire. When they fled at a distance where they were like dots in my eyes, a thump could be heard from behind. I saw a corpse, laying peacefully on the ground.
Men were huffing, as adrenaline weaned its way out of their blood. Their eyes struck with bloodlust glittered as they looked towards their prizes. The men ran forward, running down the hill to what I assume were their cattles. But they ignored that and ran straight to the fallen elves. Men grabbed the arms and legs of those that were still breathing and claimed them.
Joren walked down and joined the group, observing the captives who were barely breathing, moaning from their wounds. He would shake his head to some, and the man would grin. To those who he nodded his heads too, the man would grunt and leave the captive behind, and claim a different one instead.
As that feeling that caused me from firing a single shot disappeared, I was relieved that the men around me did not notice. But it seems my acquaintance noticed as he asked, "Jan? First time in a fight?"
My shaking legs quickly betrayed my real feelings. "What was that?" I asked, and Joren followed my gaze to the where the dead man laid.
"They are traps that they have previously laid. They must have expected our presence, but it seems they planned to scare us off, considering…"
I replayed the cries of help from the man in my head once more. It messed me up. It's one thing if it's a video game, but it felt real. Fuck, this is really the strangest dream I ever had.
"Ahh, Jan, could you help me retrieve that elf," Joren pointed at a dark elf that was struggling to get up. It was sitting up, clutching its right arm with a bloodied hand. It stared at Joren with a ferocious gaze.
I shivered. My mind were already playing out scenarios in my head. Like how this herculean looking creature could easily tear me in half, right at the centre. I looked towards my acquaintance in this group of strangers, and his eyes urged me to get going with it. Taking a deep breath, I took large strides at first, before slowing to a mere trot as I was 5 metres of the elf.
"Wesabani," The dark elf growled.
As I closed the gap, the dark elf changed his gaze to me. My wobbling legs stopped as he looked at me. His gaze softened a little, but it still held quite an edge.
"Do not worry, Jan. He's too weak to harm you. Help him up, and walk him over to me," Joren hollered. My hands made their way to his unwounded left side, and I helped him up, ensuring that he leaned his body weight against me. He was silent, and he spoke little as we trotted to Joren, who held a cold gaze towards the dark elf. I bit my lip upon seeing the gaze. He inspected the elf from head to toe. His lips curled up as he looked towards its arms, but frowned when his lingered over his injured right arm.
As we stood before Joren, he stepped forward and grabbed the elves' chin. He lifted his face up and stared into his eyes. A staring contest took place between the two, but the dark elf just spat at Joren, causing him walk off swearing.
He returned and slapped the elf. I watched, unsure of what to do. The two continued staring.
"Put him down," Joren instructed and I helped him down to the ground with the rest of the captives were huddled at.
"Any that catches your eye?" Joren gestured at the numerous elves that sat. They all glared at him.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"So, what's going to happen to them?" In my heart, I knew the answer. But I wanted to hear it out loud from the man himself.
"I'm thinking what the best roles for them would be. For example, that one with a lean body," He gestured at a relatively scrawny male elf, before continuing," He would work best in a mine. Accidents happen. And someone nimble like him can live long. Value for money." The 'miner' elf covered the wound on his chest, baring his teeth.
"That one over there," he pointed at the one which I brought in before continuing," He would work best in a plantation. It would be a waste if he was put on something like yam or maize. A cash crop would be a good use of his abilities."
"And this one," Joren pointed at an androgynous looking elf," Perhaps he would make a good house servant. Shouldn't be too hard to tame unlike the others." The elf in question only shivered and looked towards the ground, not daring to look Joren in the eye.
"Slavery?" I uttered out the dreaded word.
"No, no. We are not savages. Servants. We will teach them the ways of civilized men through hard work. Their new owners will decide whether they are civilized enough to consort with men like us," Joren paused, and let the gazes of the men around me to look at me.
I do not even know how to reply to that. But I should throw my modern-day sensibilities away, because it was pointless. These men did not care for morality, they only cared about the profits that their servants generated. Plus, this was basically wilderness, I could be left for dead if I said the wrong thing.
"I… understand," I brusquely replied, and the man continued chattering in what I supposed was Elfrikaans with the other men.
"Still, Jan, you were a brave man to come out here with us, considering that you have no combat experience. I want to give you a little gift. Any that catches your eye?" My gazes scanned the elves. I did not want to look any longer. Men were tying their hands and legs together, ensuring they did not even had a chance to fight back.
'Would it be rude to reject him?' I thought to myself and turned to look at the expectant eyes of the other men.
Another group on horseback were herding back some heads of cattle and I pointed towards the cattle.
"I would not mind some heads of cattle, send them to my family's farm?" I unconfidently said.
"Your family must have too many servants. Very well, I will direct some cattle to the Boddewijk estate," Joren then barked off some orders to the men on horseback, who nodded their heads in response.
"Dit is my bees!" A man screamed. Everyone turned to face him. It was the one who gathered this posse together to retrieve his cattle. It was understandable why he would be frustrated. Joren pointed towards the Elven captives, and the man shut up and grinned.
"Baie Dankie!" The man laughed and jumped with mirth in his step.
The trip back to the capital Pietermaritzburg was a joyous one between the men, who celebrated the new arrivals. I was silent as we trotted home. Joren was guiding me with simple horse-riding, and I engaged with him for a little. But he sensed that I wished to be alone, so he left me be in my thoughts. I looked toward the captives, who were all gloomy.
"Don't give them too much sympathy," Joren spoke up, as he observed my gaze. He continued," They conduct raids from time to time. They steal our cattle which we need to make ends meet. They kill everyone in the ranch. They have such vast amounts of land and yet they are unwilling to share. I urge you to not even trust a single word that come from their mouths. Because the last time that happened, their queen had every man, woman, child killed." It seems he said his piece, and finally left me be in my thoughts. Yet my eyes still lingered on them. What if I was in their place? How would I feel? That sympathy made me sympathetic, but Joren's words clouded that sympathy, and casted a dark cloud over my eyes.
My eyes gained a new gaze. One of hatred as I imagined the scenes that Joren spoke off. I was somewhat familiar with the events with my hazy memory from Wikipedia. In my world, Zulu King Dingane brokered a deal of some kind with some Boers who were looking to obtain some territory for farmland. All they had to do was to retrieve some cattle stolen from another chieftain. They did so, and when they got back, Dingane had everyone killed.
Still, as I distanced myself from these events. I resolved myself to end the practice of slavery in all of its various forms in the Natalia Republic. The British will soon strike, and we will not be strong enough to resist them. Only if we work with these natives, then the Republic can live on.
I received a letter at my supposed lodgings. I just asked all the hotels in town if I had a reservation with them. One of them said yes, and I treated it as my new home. A letter arrived as I found some parchment slipped under the door. Grabbing it, I turned to greet my eyes with English written with a cursive handwriting.
Sitting down on the bed I read it.
Jan,
I hope things at Pietermaritzburg were fine for you. Volksraad proceedings weren't too boorish for you hopefully. I asked a friend of mine to help you around. His son would be attending the Volksraad in his stead. His name is Joren Hoenderman and he knows both Elfrikaans and English. Joren will be the secretary for the Volksraad, so if you have any queries, he will welcome any of them. Come home after Volksraad proceedings are completed, no sooner or later. There will be a carriage in front of this establishment on the final day, take it and it will bring you home.
PS. I hope you and Joren would get along.
Yours sincerely,
Johan Boddewijk
Considering the name 'Johan', as well as the similar surname, I am assuming he's my father. No not my biological father, but Jan Boddewijk's father. My thoughts swirled. The same question that I have been dealing ever since I have been having this dream surfaced.
"Is this really a dream?"
"Or have I entered the body of someone else?"
I gulped. The dream is way too detailed, that I cannot posit it is a dream. Is it a simulation? If it's a simulation, there will be some hints indicating the creator's thoughts. So far, I do not see any such interferences in this world, nor do I see pixels on objects.
If this a dream, then I should sigh in relief. I can go back to the modern world. I could enjoy the modern amenities instead of this backward hellhole. Did I mention I always hated camping?
If I possessed another man's body, then how do I switch back? Logically, there's no way to switch back. But logically, someone must have done it. So who should I seek guidance in? God?
"Of course…" I mumbled. I hurried to the nearby church. It was a white small building, unlike the grandiose churches I see in the old world. It could probably host around 50th people at most on the first floor.
There was no one here at this time at day, except for the devout few who sat on the numerous chairs, clasping their hands in prayer. I looked at the statue of the God that they are praying to, and smirked, seeing a remnant of the old world. Considering this world is magical, perhaps prayers might get me somewhere. I took my seat around the first rows, where I saw people who a necklace of a cross around their neck sat. I joined them and wrapped my clasped my hands in prayer.
'Hello, anyone out there?' I thought, imagining a phone call, expecting no one to reply. And as expected, no one replied.
'God? Any guidance? Mind sending me back to my world?'
'The call is not responding. Please try again later, thank you. The call is not responding. Please try again later, thank you.' I think I heard this thoughts entered my head, but it was to tell whether I imagined them, or if someone really replied.
'Hello, this is call centre Angel Joshua. How can I help you?' Someone telekinetically spoke to me to my head. The words were too comprehensible, that it did not remind me of imagination.
'Is this for real? Or are my mind playing tricks with me?'
'I can assure you that this is very real sir. First time user? Press 1 if this is your first time. Press 2 if this is not your first time.'
'1.'
'Thank you very much sir. Do remember to leave some feedback so our other angels could help your fellow men. So how can I help you?'
'I'm not from this world. I don't if this a dream or such, but I can I go back to my original world?'
'Symptoms of Psychosis. I see. Sir, have you recently been feeling stressed recently? Do you hear any voices other than me of course? Or do you hallucinate from time to time?'
I don't even know how to reply. Why is an angel becoming my psychiatrist?