Waking up to a throbbing pain in my head, I found myself covered in straw. "Damn," I groaned, sitting up quickly. My hand instinctively went to the back of my head, finding a cloth bandage wrapped there.

I took in my surroundings - a dimly lit room, light creeping through small, glassless windows. The walls were rough stone, the floor earthen. A rickety old table and a couple of chairs that looked like they'd fall apart if I sneered at them too hard. This wasn't a place I recognized.

"Where am I?" I wondered, standing up. The straw fell off me, revealing a blue tunic I was wearing. "Wool," I noted, not my usual style. Something was off.

Looking down at my hands, I felt a jolt of surprise. They weren't mine. A quick check confirmed it - I didn't know this body. "Okay, Edward, think," I told myself, trying to stay composed.

This wasn't Earth; that much was clear. And now I was in someone else's body, with no clue about this world. But panicking wasn't my style. I needed a plan, a way to figure out where I was and what was going on.

"First things first, find out who you are in this place," I thought. I had been in tough spots before, but this was something else.

I began searching the small medieval room, looking for any clue that might illuminate my situation. "There's got to be something here," I thought, eyes scanning every inch of the sparse space.

I started with the old table, running my hands over its rough surface, checking for hidden compartments or any markings. Nothing. Just the worn wood and the years etched into it. The chairs were next – simple, wooden, and as unremarkable as the table. I turned them over, checking the underside, but it was clear: this was just a poor man's furniture.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

I moved to the room's corners, where shadows clung to the walls. Maybe there was something hidden, something overlooked. But all I found were cobwebs and the stark reality of poverty. "This place doesn't have much to offer," I acknowledged a tinge of frustration in my thoughts.

The straw bed where I had woken up was my last hope. I sifted through the straw, searching for anything – a letter, a trinket, anything that could be a clue. But all I found was more straw and the hard floor beneath.

I stepped back, taking in the room once more. It was clear: this house and room were as poor as they come. No hidden secrets, no forgotten treasures. Just a bare existence.

As I heard the door creaking, I turned to see a white-haired girl walk in, accompanied by a tall, skinny man clad in a black cloak. Initially etched with sadness and concern, the girl's face brightened upon seeing me. She rushed over, tears filling her eyes, and hugged me. Her head barely reached my stomach, her arms clinging tightly as she sobbed.

Instinctively, I patted her head, trying to soothe her.

"Rest ##### #####," the tall man said as he approached. His voice was calm and authoritative.

The girl looked back at him and nodded. Wiping her tears, she looked up at me, concerned. "#### ### hurt," she said softly.

I furrowed my brow, "Huh! What? I don't understand," I replied.

Terror flickered across the girl's face, her tears returning. She turned to the tall man, speaking quickly. He stepped towards me, and I instinctively backed away, raising my hands. "Easy there," I cautioned.

The man, now closer, had a stern expression, a clean-shaven beard, and short hair. He examined me from a distance, then turned to the girl. "Head ######### memory," he said, his tone suggesting he'd seen this before.

The girl nodded, still looking worried. "##### #### fool," she muttered, her voice tinged with concern.

"#### maybe, ##### ####### #######" the man added.

Watching the exchange, I pieced it together. I was injured, and this girl – likely family – had called for help. Their conversation gave me enough clues, even though I couldn't understand every word. It was smarter to pretend I'd lost my memory.

The girl reached into her chest, pulling out a worn pouch. She handed the man a silver coin, reluctant but grateful. He accepted it with a nod and left.

"I need to learn their language," I thought, watching the girl. "But for now, let's play the part." I smiled at her reassuringly, hoping to ease her worry.