Ardwyn kept tumbling toward the intense pull of the portal, experiencing weightlessness followed by a sensation of falling through endless space. The world stretched around him, colors smearing like wet paint. Gravity was gone and his body floated in a void of swirling waves. He felt light, almost non existent. Tingling sensations, like gentle electric currents, spread across his skin.

He wasn’t sure how long he tumbled through the portal toward something pulling him closer, pulling him in. Time stopped.

Abruptly, the weightlessness turned into a plummeting sensation. Ardwyn’s stomach lurched, and as if on a rollercoaster drop, he emerged on the other side of the portal, and was thrown forward, his body slamming into soft grass.

The world snapped back into focus, colors sharpening. A rush of warm summer air surrounded him. He looked up, dizzy, to find the pain gone. The sky above was a vibrant blue, and beneath rolling green emerald hills as far as the horizon he could see, a gentle breeze carried the scent of warm summer air.

Ardwyn’s heavy breathing, and pounding heartbeat, gradually slowed down.

Where was he? How long had he traveled through the portal? He couldn’t tell. The landscape was as different as could be from the dark cold woods and the gray skies he had left behind on the other side. The moon was also gone, replaced by a bright yellow sun.

Ardwyn stood up and brushed the grass from his pants —- where previously he had jeans, they were replaced by thick brown wool pants. His old t-shirt was gone too, now with an artisan hand crafted cotton shirt in its place. The texture was rough but comforting.

None of this made any sense, but at least the creature was gone. He looked around. There was a patch of woods, far off in the distance. Out here in the meadows, the only signs of life were just a few butterflies, and some birds chirping. He seemed to be safe for the time being.

Ardwyn checked his arms and legs. The wounds were gone. The fresh air seemed to have a rejuvenating effect, with the ground beneath his feet feeling warm in the sunshine.

Somewhere on the horizon, in the distance, rose a plum of smoke from a village. Ardwyn estimated the distance to be about a few hours of walking. How far was he from home?

Ardwyn, feeling full of some new renewed kind of energy, set his eyes on the horizon.

When he arrived at the village, people of all ages bustled about, hardly paying any attention to him. The village looked like something from the medieval or renaissance era. There was no sign of modern technology anywhere. A main street, built from cobblestones ran from the entrance of the village, through the town square, zigzagging by merchant stalls, houses, and taverns.

The stalls overflowed with wares, and groups of villagers excitedly congregating about. Bottled jars with puffs of smoke, quills, parchment papers, laid spread out on a table, sold by a merchant at one stand. At another stand, a baker spread out loaves, biscuits, and other baked goods.

The town market square buzzed with excited commotion. As Ardwyn’s gaze swept across the village, he noticed a vibrant tapestry of flags and banners hung from lines. The banners had various abstract designs, rippling in the breeze.

“What are those flags?” Ardwyn asked, and turned to a random passerby, an older man, who was wearing simple clothes, not too different from Ardwyn. His face showed the weathered marks of someone who had been through a lot in his life. His gray and black hair was pulled back into a pony tail.

The man showed a smile, and said, “Those are the different flags of the mage houses. Today is the first day of the mage festival celebration. Your first time?”

“Yes—,“ Ardwyn said, unsure what else to say.

“Really? Some mages might come through later today. Ever since the town was saved from dragons by the mages, the townspeople have put on a yearly festival to commemorate the occasion.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Dragons? Had he been transported into some fantasy realm? That was hard to believe, but the world around him was alive, as real as anything he had experienced before.

“Garn is the name.” The man outstretched his hand.

“Ardwyn,” he said, and shook the man’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet you. What brings you to town today? Where are you from?”

Ardwyn didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to reveal just yet that he had been transported from another world. He decided to play along and not raise any suspicions.

“Just traveling,” Ardwyn said.

The man slightly frowned, as if realizing Ardwyn didn’t want to reveal much of anything else. “I see. Well, have a good time.”

The man waved his hand, and busily walked away. He probably had a lot going on today.

The crowd of people began growing, surrounding Ardwyn, moving hurriedly from one market stall to another, still with not a single person seeming to notice that he was not from here.

Ardwyn spotted a stand with some flowers and herbs a little off to the side of the main market square, with fewer people around. The shelves of the stall were filled with herbs in various flower pots, bouquets, and other plants.

As he approached, he noticed an elderly woman tending to the plants. She wore a dress of rough spun fabric, with a belt of braided grass encircling her waist. Her hands moved with grace as she arranged the various flowers on her shelves.

“Excuse me,” Ardwyn said. “Can you tell me by chance the name of this land?”

The woman turned, her eyes fixating on Ardwyn.

“Ah, a wanderer from afar,” she said. “You are in Aerolia.” She reached for a pot containing flowers with colors of blue and purple.

“Here,” she said. “Smell this. It clears the mind and opens up the heart.”

Hesitating, Ardwyn stepped forward. The scent was indescribable, at once familiar, strange, comforting and exhilarating. As he inhaled, he felt relaxed. A tension lifted from his shoulders.

“This plant is a favorite of the mages,” she said. “It helps them generate mana.”

“What’s mana?”

“You really are not from here, are you?” the woman asked.

Ardwyn shook his head.

“Mana is the force mages use.” As she spoke, she plucked a leaf from the blue and purple flowers. To Ardwyn’s astonishment, the leaf began to glow faintly in her palm, pulsating with a soft, ethereal light.

“Mana flows through everything. The earth beneath our feet, the air we breath, even our own bodies,” she said. “Mages can learn to sense it, draw upon the energy, and shape reality itself with its power.”

Ardwyn watched as tiny flickers of light, as if fireflies dancing in the summer evening, begin to swirl around the leaf and then vanish into the air.

“Here, take it.” The woman handed Ardwyn the pot of the blue and purple flowers. “You seem to have some sort of affinity for mana. The energy from the leaf seems extra vibrant.”

Ardwyn took the flower pot, and placed it under his arm.

“Uh — I don’t have any money,” he blurted.

“That’s fine,” the woman smiled. “Just tell others about my stand here. Advertising, it’s good for business.”

And with that she turned back to her flowers, arranging them on the shelves, waiting for the next visitor.

Ardwyn continued to make his way past the busy stalls of the village marketplace, with the flower pot tucked under his arm, carrying it carefully. No one seemed to notice him, and no one seemed to care. The villagers were all too busy moving from one market stall to the next. As he walked, the blue and purple flowers pulsed gently, their soft glow barely visible in the bright sunlight. Ardwyn could feel the subtle warmth emanating from them, as if the power of the plant was responding to his touch.

To his left, a stall overflowed with shimmering fabrics of all sorts of intricate woven designs, rippling in the breeze. The merchant, a tall woman was engaged in animated haggling with a customer over a cloth.

Further ahead, he spotted a stall with various alchemical potions and bottles of all sorts of shapes and size. The merchant, an older man with a large leather hat to keep himself shaded from the sun, poured a green glowing liquid that emitted golden sparkles in front of the stall from one bottle to another to attract customers.

“By the ethereal flame,” the man exclaimed as he saw Ardwyn carrying the flower pot. “Those are Ethereal Blossoms. I haven’t seen those in a a long time!”

As the man spoke, he poured some of the green potion liquid accidentally on the floor, distracted by the flowers. “Where did you get those?” He asked Ardwyn.

“The woman at the flower stand gave them to me.”

“Gave them to you?” The man looked surprised. “My boy, those flowers are incredibly rare and valuable. They are said to bloom only in the presence of great magical potential.”

Ardwyn looked down on the flowers. He felt more respect for what he was holding. He carefully put the flower pot into his other hand.

“Curious,” the man said. “Very curious, indeed. Tell me, young man, where are you from?”

Before Ardwyn could respond, a hush fell over the marketplace. The crowd parted, revealing a figure in a shimmering robe, quite different from the rest of the villagers. The figure strode purposefully through the square. The air around the figure seemed to shimmer with a similar sort of energy Ardwyn had noticed back at the portal.

The old merchant’s face paled. “A mage from the Council of Mages,” he whispered. “And he’s coming this way. Whatever you do, don’t let him see those flowers.”

Ardwyn hid the flower pot behind one of the stalls of the potion merchant. The merchant nodded, winking an eye, signaling to Ardwyn that his secret was safe with him.