As Laura stared at the translucent figure, her eyes widened in disbelief. At first, it was just a vague blur—a shapeless form barely clinging to reality. But slowly, almost painfully, it began to sharpen, as though the very air around it was stitching the figure into existence. What was once indistinct became more defined, clearer, until finally, it stood before them, solid, real.

She felt a strange pull in her gut, an unsettling sense of something shifting, almost like the world David had described earlier was beginning to materialize in front of her. So, this is what he meant, she thought. It wasn’t just a story after all.

David, on the other hand, was far less focused on the eerie transformation. His eyes scanned the man before them—searching, probing. Do I know him? He squinted, taking in the rugged features, the thick beard, and the intimidating, muscular frame of the newcomer. But no, there was no recognition. Who the hell is this guy?

The middle-aged man, now fully present in the world, glanced between David and Laura. His brow furrowed as if something wasn’t right, his posture tense with caution. Then he spoke.

“Excuse me... What is this place?” His voice boomed with authority, but there was a hint of confusion lurking underneath.

David blinked. The language—he had never heard it before. And yet, the moment the words left the man’s lips, David understood perfectly. More than that, he knew how to respond, the foreign words flowing to the front of his mind like they had always been there.

What the hell? He paused, processing the surreal realization. This is a new language... but how? After a brief silence, he finally spoke, the words sliding effortlessly from his mouth, as if they had always been his.

“Hello,” David said, a calmness masking his inner turmoil. “This is a pioneer camp in the northern region of the Kingdom of Tilan. I’m David, the village chief. Do you need help?”

Laura’s eyes widened as she watched David speak. That’s not the same language he used before. What’s going on?

The newcomer—this towering man—looked at David, puzzled. “Kingdom of Tilan?” His deep voice was laced with confusion, and he seemed to mull over David’s response for a moment before asking, “How far is it from East Weald?”

David shook his head slowly, his eyes narrowing. “I don’t know where East Weald is,” he admitted, though his thoughts were racing. Who is this guy, and where has he come from?

The man’s expression grew more perplexed. His thick eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “Stratholme? The Kingdom of Lordaeron? You’ve heard of these places, surely?”

David kept his face neutral, but internally, he was stunned. Those names... they were familiar, but not in any way that made sense in this world. He fought to keep his expression steady. I know those names, but this isn’t Azeroth.

When David didn’t answer, the man sighed deeply, his rugged face softening just a little. He seemed to realize there was no point pressing the matter. “My name is Tirion Fordring,” he introduced himself, his voice steady. “It seems I’ve gotten lost... I might need to stay in your village tonight.”

Laura blinked in confusion, the name meant nothing to her. But David? David knew exactly who this man was.

Tirion Fordring. The legendary paladin of Azeroth. A disciple of Alonsus Faol, Archbishop of the Order of the Holy Light. One of the first five paladins, a man who had fought orcs, battled the undead, and faced off against the Lich King himself. What in the world is he doing here?

David’s mind whirled with possibilities, trying to make sense of it all. Space transfer? Time displacement? The man was from an entirely different world. Fordring, powerful and steadfast, clearly believed he had been teleported or transported through some unknown magic.

David's mind raced. Tirion Fordring, the Lafayette of Warcraft lore—one of the most famous paladins with more stories than any other first-generation paladin. And now, he stood right here, before David. 'What are the odds?'

He silently organized his thoughts, deciding to be upfront with Tirion. There was no point hiding things. Fordring wasn’t stupid. If David didn’t explain the situation, Tirion would figure it out soon enough.

“Some situations need to be explained to you,” David finally said, his voice steady but with an underlying tension.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Tirion raised a brow, his rugged face unreadable. Laura, sitting nearby, glanced between the two, trying to keep up.

“You’ve both… well, appeared here, like some kind of space displacement,” David continued, his tone more relaxed but still cautious. “Laura’s from another world, and now you’re here too. It’s not Azeroth.”

Tirion scratched his messy hair, eyes narrowing in thought. “So, this isn’t Azeroth?” His voice was low, carrying the weight of a man used to dealing with the impossible.

'He’s taking this better than Laura did,' David mused. “No,” David confirmed, “This is a remote part of Tilan Kingdom. You’ve been pulled into a different world altogether.”

The flicker of the fire threw shadows across the log cabin, the only sound for a moment being the crackling of wood. Tirion’s eyes shifted toward the fire before settling back on David.

“But how do you know the common language of Azeroth?” Tirion asked, his suspicion not fully concealed.

'Here we go.' David sighed inwardly. “I don’t know exactly. But… after meeting you, I just suddenly understood it. Like some sort of instinct.”

Laura watched the exchange, her brow furrowed. “Wait, you didn’t know this language before?” Laura doesn't know the common language of Azeroth, and Tirion doesn't know English. The conversation between the group required David to act as a translator.

David shook his head. “Nope. Never heard it in my life until you showed up.”

Tirion nodded slowly, his gaze growing more contemplative. “So, this world pulls people from other worlds… and you just happen to know our language now.”

David smirked. “Lucky me, right? Must be some kind of strange ability I picked up.”

Laura can learn a new language in a short period of time through various incomplete records on ancient ruins and stone tablets. The reward he initially received from Laura was probably an upgraded and enhanced version of this ability, rather than the English knowledge he guessed at first.

This discovery made him very happy, and the appearance of Fording confirmed his speculation about his own golden finger: he activated the golden finger after becoming the village head. This means that there will be more people from various worlds in the future. With this ability, he doesn't have to worry about language problems.

A heavy silence followed as David’s words sank in. Laura shifted on her seat, looking from Tirion to David, then at the fire. 'This is real. This is all real.' The realization weighed on her more now, the last trace of doubt completely gone.

Tirion let out a long breath, his posture relaxing slightly. “It seems we’ve both been displaced then,” he muttered. “For how long, who knows.”

David noticed Laura was dozing off, completely exhausted from the ordeal. He quietly helped her get more comfortable, covering her with an extra blanket.

“Get some rest,” he whispered.

Returning to the fire, David looked at Tirion, who hadn’t said a word since Laura fell asleep. “You’ve had quite the journey, Tirion,” David said, his voice softer, more understanding.

Tirion’s eyes darkened as he stared into the flames. “More than you can imagine,” he said, his voice laced with a depth that only comes from years of hardship. “But I didn’t get here by choice. I’ve been wandering for a long time.”

The fire flickered, shadows dancing on the walls as Tirion continued. “I had no place left. No direction. And now…” He shook his head slightly. “Now I’m here. In your village.”

He finally grasped the weight of Fording’s situation. The legendary paladin had been exiled due to conflicts with his own kin, those he once fought alongside. He had risked everything to save an orc, a noble act that, in the unforgiving world of Azeroth, had turned against him. After wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar lands, Fording sought refuge in East Weald—a place soon to be known as Plagueland, a name forever stained by the shadows of natural disasters and relentless plagues.

David leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You can stay, for as long as you want.”

Tirion gave a faint smile, almost lost in the shadows. “I appreciate the offer.”

As silence settled over the wooden house, Fording fell quiet, retreating into his thoughts. David, too, succumbed to the embrace of slumber, lulled by the crackling fire that provided warmth and a sense of security he hadn’t felt in ages. As dawn broke, casting gentle rays of sunlight through the cracks in the wooden cabin.

David sat up, the fire not far away was still burning, and the prepared firewood had been used up. It was obvious that someone was watching the fire all night.

“No wonder I could sleep until dawn,” he mused, stretching. Alone, he would have tossed and turned, haunted by the sounds of the night and the threat of lurking beasts. But with Fording beside him—a man of strength and honor—he felt a rare comfort envelop him, a protective cocoon against the dangers of the wild.

Just as he pondered where Fording had wandered off to, the cabin door creaked open, and Laura stepped inside, sunlight pouring in behind her.

She blinked against the brightness, her expression shifting from a moment of vigilance to one of relief as memories of their extraordinary journey rushed back. A playful smile tugged at her lips, and she greeted David with a bright, genuine warmth that reminded him of the sun breaking through clouds. “Good morning, David,” she said, her voice a melody that filled the space with life.

“Good morning, Laura,” he replied, feeling buoyed by her energy.

Fording, standing at the threshold, observed the two with a thoughtful expression. “Good morning to you both,” he said, his tone firm yet friendly. “I believe I have figured out how to return. We may not be trapped in this world after all.”

“What?” The excitement in Laura’s eyes ignited like a spark. She was the most eager of them all, her heart yearning for home. “What should I do?” Her words spilled forth, eager and filled with hope.

“It’s simple,” Fording replied, his gaze steady. “Just find a direction. Walk out of the village and keep the thought of returning to your own world close to your heart.”