Unfortunately, the events of yesterday had yet to prove themselves as a dream. I woke up on a bed whose sheer size seemed to be wasted on me, gazed at the still-cloudy appearance of a medieval kingdom, and after a good fifteen-minute stare into the distance, the reek of sweat hit me.

Dental hygiene was only one of my worries it seemed. As someone who showered twice a day and washed hands upon contact with anything that would suggest bacteria, this dirty feeling of perspiration trickling down my body grossed me out. I had hoped that Icy Eyes would show up and guide me to the baths, but after another hour of admiring the painting of a sassy old man, the only thing that had changed was the stench of my T-shirt. Hence my current state of affairs.

I trod lightly, trying to make as little noise as possible. My eyes darted about and made vain attempts at understanding the silver plates above the doors. Even though the locals here could speak English, I thought it was a no-brainer that they would be able to write it. Evidently, that was not the case. Trying to make heads or tails of these carvings reminded me of my doctor's writing.

In other words, I had no idea where I was going.

The warm sunlight bounced off the corridor walls, bringing the temperature up another few degrees. I wiped a bead of sweat off my forehead, wondering if I'd made the wrong choice of wandering off on my own.

“Maybe I should go back...”

“Lewis?” A female voice sounded behind me.

I turned around.

An embroidered blue Victorian dress. Such was my first impression of Claire Braum as she stared at me in surprise. Normally I wouldn't have given her appearance any mind, but no, this was Claire, the most deadass, no bullshit type of girl I've met. The most formal I've seen her was with torn blue jeans and a pair of worn sneakers.

Her gown's frills of silk danced and gave her a sense of elegance as she drew near.

“Where were you yesterday?” she said, bringing me back from my musings.

I shrugged, “In another world?”

“Dean said you spoke to the king," she frowned.

“Ortonoff?” I said, looking around the hall, “ Oh, yeah, I did.”

I still hoped to find a camera laying somewhere, tucked under a table, or hidden behind an inconspicuous piece of furniture that littered about the hall. Even though I witnessed a man juggle with fire in front of my eyes, the logical part of my brain still craved some kind of an explanation for these crazy set of events.

"I don't know," I said, looking back at Claire, "It hasn't fully sinked in yet. I still feel like I'm gonna wake up any moment, get ready for school, speak to Dean, maybe mention my lucid dream or forget all about it. I know it's not gonna happen, but it just feels so…"

"Unreal," Claire said, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear, "I know, I felt the same way. I didn't want to believe it at first, so I kept looking for the trick. A moment when their acting would slip up, and they would reveal that we were, in fact, being made fool of."

I nodded.

"But there is no trick, Lewis," she said, "This really is a different world, with its own laws, its own history and people. It took me one session with Aldron to understand it."

She looked at me behind a pair of glasses. Combined with her dress and new haircut, it made her look a lot more mature.

"So why us then?" I said, "He could have brought other people into this. What makes us so special?"

“I don't know,” Claire crossed her arms, "They didn't tell us much about the scroll. Only that they expected only one or two people to come out, not a whole group of 'children', as they said it." She frowned at the word. "In any case, we have discussed that we are helping them."

I stared at her, "You're kidding."

Claire signed, "And here I hoped you'd be on my side for once."

"No, don't you see how shady this sounds?" I pointed, "We've been transported to another world for reasons we don't understand, told that we can't go back, and now what? We're being asked to play heroes and save the world?"

"No, not the world," Claire said, pinching her nose, "They've begged us to help the kingdom."

"Same shit," I said, "We have no idea what the fuck is going on, but sure, let's believe what this man is saying, swing our metaphorical magic wands and fix his problems," I shaked my head, "I think I'm gonna go insane if we continue like this."

“Then don't," she said, "No one is forcing you to lift a finger. You can stay at the mansion and receive food and shelter, if you'd like. We were seriously considering that, until we rode in a caravan to get a sense of the city. People are miserable, Lewis. It doesn't help that a war is breaking out."

Claire crossed her arms, her eyes dead-serious.

Faced with such a strong gaze, the floor became strangely compelling to look at.

I’ve never truly believed in altruism. Some of it might have been due to my upbringing, or the hundreds of internet videos that displayed the more messed up side of humanity. I didn’t think we were inherently selfish, of course. I remembered talking to Dean about it, how no one was purely good or evil, merely a victim of circumstance and its biological tendencies. But we always needed some kind of motive to be good, be it a material reward, or a fear of punishment if we didn’t behave as the social norms dictated.

I didn’t know what Ortonoff had promised them, but it wasn’t enough to justify risking my life for it. I had nothing against Claire and the others playing heroes and save-the-world. I only wished them not to pull me into their little game. They could go swing their swords and get themselves killed for all I cared.

As if she had sensed my thoughts, Claire sighed.

“What are you doing here?” She gave up and asked.

“Bathroom.”

She pointed at the ceiling, “You’ve already passed it. It’s on the second…”

Her finger curled back into her palm, “No, nevermind. Just follow me.”

As I hurried after her withdrawing figure, it became apparent that I had been going in the wrong direction for a while. The mansion's hallways must have been built by a labyrinth enthusiast, because they spread out like a maze, their walls complete mirrors except for the occasional painting or vase on a table.

Only the muffled sound of our footsteps followed as we walked down the hallway. I didn’t mind this moment of silence, and would have gladly kept my mouth shut, but some questions were on my mind.

“What did the king say to you guys?” I decided to ask.

Carly’s steps visibly slowed down. She looked around the hall, her bun haircut giving a small wobble. After making sure we were alone, she spoke:

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“The kingdom is in a really bad position right now.” Her voice was low, as if she had revealed a secret, “I don’t know the exact details, everything Aldron said passed right between our ears then, but it sounded like we are close to a new-found cave of some kind.”

“Cave... And what does that have to do with a war breaking out?”

“Find out yourself. We’ve decided to help them. You can stay here and become a vegetable if you want,” her steps came to a halt, “Anyways, the baths should be just up the stairs. I haven’t been there before as they are men’s only, but you shouldn't have any problems finding your way.”

She was about to turn around and leave, so I made up my mind and asked the question that had been bugging me from the start.

“Hold on, I’ve been wondering what’s the occasion for... this,” I said as I pointed to her clothes

“Ah, it’s,” She looked down at her dress. “There will be an official meeting in an hour. Which reminds me, you really need a change of clothes.” Her small nose twitched as she gazed at my shirt.

“An hour is plenty of time to get ready, isn’t it. Are you going somewhere to kill time?”

“Yeah, I was thinking about, um, getting something to eat.”

“Dressed like that?” It seemed too formal for lunch.

A sudden thought crossed my mind, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“You like to cosplay?” I said.

Her face froze, and my smile spread even further.

I’ve known Carly for a while before I had changed schools, and have always thought of her as someone who wouldn’t be interested in dressing up like a princess. In fact, I could still remember my classmates’ shocked faces when she didn’t refuse to be Juliet in the graduation school play. At that time I simply wrote it off as her being bored, but now that I looked at her, I couldn’t be more mistaken. She clearly enjoyed it.

She looked at me with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing in what I guessed was her attempt at a rebuttal. Although it was very amusing to see her like that, I decided not to pester any further and passed her by as I climbed the stairs.

“Son of a...” she finally murmured, but I was already out of sight.

✦✦✦

“Whew, those were worse than I thought,” I gazed down the twisting section of stairs below.

It took way longer than expected. By the time I dragged my heavy feet onto the last pair of steps, my chest was heaving rapidly and sweat had drenched my clothes.

I took a deep breath, my pulse steadying as the murky air filled my lungs.

This hallway seemed a lot smaller, and for the first time there was an end in sight. Doors were lined uniformly on both walls, and I still had no idea where to go. At least, not until a man came out from one of them.

He wore nothing but a towel, his toned muscles for the world to see. I didn’t even have time to think when he strode to the opposite wall and went through one of its doorways. Thankfully, my presence went unnoticed so I sighed in relief.

The first door he had used must have led to the baths. With such a thought, I neared the entrance and eyed the silver plate above it.

The inscriptions were different. In place of those strange symbols, which could make even an archaeologist wail in despair, there were three wavy lines and a sword. It didn’t take a genius to guess what they meant, so I went in.

The sultry air made me swelter, its vapory substance blurring my vision.

The dressing room was right in front of me and clean towels were stacked up to the side, placed on a wooden stand.

After a moment of looking around, I took off my T-shirt and left its wrinkled form on the floor where no one would step on it. It was already stinking more than what was tolerable, so a little dust wouldn’t do it any harm. I was somewhat hesitant to do the same with my underwear, I would be butt-naked after all, but then I recalled the man from earlier. The rest of my clothes quickly followed and I wound up a towel over my waist, ready for the water.

The rectangular pool had a column on each of its sides, supporting the ceiling’s considerable height. A stone statue rose from under the pool and reminded me of a more muscular version of Ortonoff. My lips curled into a smile. Although he didn’t seem that buffed when I talked to him, the sculptor did a good job of portraying his droopy eyes in all of their glory.

I stepped on the floor, its cool surface pleasant to the touch. As I sank to my shoulders in the warm water, the stress that had pent up seeped out, washed away by the liquid’s lapping at my skin.

“I guess that's one thing off my mind,” I groaned, relishing in the warmth.

“Oh, so I’m not alone?”

My heart nearly burst out of my rib cage as I clambered out of the bath. Trying to turn around, the slippery ground proved to be my enemy as my foot slid and I plummeted downwards.

"Youngins these days! If you’re this scared of a scrawny old man, how can you save a kingdom?”

My perpetrator let out a hearty laugh.

I held onto my chin for dear life and rolled around in horror, the corners of my eyes watering from the pain. It dislocated. I meant it. I definitely heard something pop.

In all of my unathletic life, I’ve never broken bones or had dislocations. I’ve never seriously participated in sports, so the worst injury I had gotten was a bruise on the knee. But the pain I experienced then didn’t come close to what I felt now. It was enough for even the quiet me to cry out.

“Oh? I apologise for my outburst when you’re in such pain.” He kneeled down and slowly lifted my face, his sculpted muscles and dangling package becoming apparent. “Hmm. A dislocated jaw.”

His hand ran across my chin, as if searching for something. My mouth hurt quite a bi--

I almost blacked out as pain hit me in the mouth again.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” The old man let out yet another guffaw. He let go of my chin, leaving me to almost crash head-first into the floor. “Should have seen the look on your face! ”

He then slid into the bath.

The pain in my chin slowly receded, although moving it still made me grimace. I brushed the tears from the rims of my eyelids as I turned to look at the man in question.

Milky white hair coiled behind his head, reaching past his broad shoulders and above the waist. He stretched in the water, the multiple scars on his back betraying his light-hearted nature.

“What’s the matter youngin’? Aren’t you coming in?” He turned around, revealing a face surprisingly scar-free.

I timidly got into the bath, this time making sure of my footing. My left hand had glued itself onto my throbbing jaw, as if releasing it would bring back all the pain.

“You sure are a lively one, almost gave me a jump too!” His broad smile gave away two rows of dazzling teeth. “Being cautious is splendid. A sign of a good warrior. Or a coward.”

He eyed me up and down, inspecting every bit of muscle on my lanky physique, I could only make guesses of what he saw in me.

I glanced down at myself.

Two skinny arms hung limply below the water’s surface. I was certainly not skin and bones, although my figure could be called anything but fit. Years of sitting in front of the screen had taken its toll, while going to the gym to work out seemed like a chore. Warrior? You jest. I looked more like a malnourished worm.

The man’s uncomfortable gaze stopped. Then he nodded in understanding.

“Four, no, three months I guess,” he mumbled under his breath. “Oh! Please ignore my impoliteness, I’ve forgotten to introduce myself.” The water shook as he bent his body forward. “Head butler Domon Carleby. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Leuwish.”

The man burst out laughing again.

“I know who you are, young man! In fact, everyone in the palace knows.” Domon leaned back and gazed at the towering statue. His eyes carried a hint of amusement as he said, “Lewis Fallester. The Sleeping Prince. I can see why that prideful man found you so amusing.”

“I’m naht--” A sting of pain made my face flinch.

“I advise you not to talk too much," Domon said, "Unfortunately, restoration magic is not my forte, so you will have to endure until Aldron gets a look at you.”

Magic. As if the word pulled the lever on my childish imagination, my heartbeat sped up.

Being a computer nerd, I’ve known many games with magic systems in them. If Aldron could ignite his finger, then there ought to be magicians who could control wind or water, right? With that in mind, what type of magic did I have?

“Fweim.” I cringed. Maybe not fire.

"It’s not that simple, youngin’!" Domon laughed, "Like everything in life, magic takes practice. In your case especially, you’ll need a lot.”

I looked at him questioningly. In my case?

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Domon said in response. With a heave, he got out of the pool and sauntered towards the exit, my eyes averting because of obvious reasons, "You’ll understand sooner than later.”

I didn’t say anything, having abused my jaw enough by now.

Water droplets fell from his white hair, crashing against the smooth ground to an even rhythm. Just as he gripped the doorknob, his feet stopped.

“In any case, the guest bathrooms are further down the corridor. Although we servants would find it an honour to bathe with a legend in the making, they might be more to your liking.”

With those words, Head Butler Domon Carleby left the bath, leaving me with more questions than answers.