Hey there! It's I, your favorite scrivener, journalist, and autobiographer extraordinaire. I'm here to report on the last three days, which, let me tell you, were nothing short of nerve-wracking. After much skull-diggery and low-key passive aggressive schnenigans, Abdullah, Erlik, Evelynn and I, Ed, finally reached a consensus, well not really but whatever. Allow me to officially declare our mission in a neat little list:
1. "The Natives" are good (mostly).
2. We are stuck here (definitely).
3. Us four are stuck on this planet (unfortunately).
4. We have not been given a purpose by any god or deity, nor is there any "hero work" for us (disappointingly).
Now, we're waiting for the ceremony.
## Three Days Prior
In a room draped in deep, rich velvet, its walls a mesmerizing shade of dark red that seems to pulse with an otherworldly energy. In the center, a blue flame flickers, casting eerie shadows that dance across the faces of four figures seated on oversized pillows. They're adorned with large, fluffy tassels that sway with each movement of their occupants.
The atmosphere is thick with tension, so palpable you could cut it with a knife. It's clear that these four individuals, despite their vastly different appearances, share one common trait: utter bewilderment at their current situation. They have learned not more than couple hours ago that they were not alone. There were three others who shared their fate. They have been kept separate this whole time and now, they were put into a room, as Natives' tradition dictates, to resolve their predicament. They all stir and try to find a comfortable position to sit on these huge pillows.
A middle-aged man with distinct Middle Eastern features breaks the silence. His brownish skin gleams in the ethereal light of the flame, and his eyes, sharp and intelligent, dart around the room as if cataloging every detail. He clears his throat, the sound echoing in the oppressive quiet.
"No need dance with djinn in the dark...," he declares, his voice carrying a hint of authority. "Until a decision is made, we are stuck here together in this... discussion room." He gestures broadly at their surroundings, the movement causing the tassels on his pillow to dance much to his disdain. "I propose we introduce ourselves first."
Without waiting for acknowledgment from the others, he takes the initiative. He begins with a sentence in a language unknown to the rest, the foreign words rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. Then, switching to a language they all understand, he continues:
"My name is Abdullah ibn-Adem, a traveler, scholar, magician, and servant to the one and only God." His gaze settles on the only other man in the room. "Would you like to continue, my good man?"
The man Abdullah addresses is a striking figure. His face is all angles and planes, with a forehead, cheekbones, and chin so sharply defined they could cut glass. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of green, seem to tingle with reflections of the blue flame before him. He's neither classically handsome nor ugly, but rather exotic, his features a captivating blend of the familiar and the alien.
"I am called Erlik," he responds, his voice low and gravelly, "named after the first of my kind created by one God. I lived in the vast lands of my homeland until I failed a divine trial." His gaze drops to the flame, and a wave of pure sorrow washes over his face. "I don't remember much," he adds, the words heavy with the weight of lost memories.
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Next, a woman with soft features begins to speak, her voice trembling slightly. "He-hey... My friends call, well, used to call me Ed." She raises her head, meeting the eyes of the other three with a mixture of nervousness and determination.
Before Ed can continue, Abdullah straightens his back, his entire demeanor shifting to one of oppressive authority. "No, woman," he barks, "you are not given the right to speak. Shut up and wait for men to decide!"
Erlik's brow furrows at Abdullah's outburst, but he remains silent, his eyes darting between the Abdullah and Ed. The other woman, however, is not so reticent. She speaks slowly but with unwavering confidence:
"Look at me you bigot! She and I have every right to express ourselves!" Reaches and touches Ed's shoulder supportingly.
Abdullah's eyes widen in surprise, clearly taken aback by her vehement response. For a moment, he's at a loss for words, unable to formulate an immediate retort. He attempts to stare the woman down, hoping to cow her with his gaze, but she meets his eyes unflinchingly. It's evident that he's never encountered such rebellious behavior from a woman before.
The outspoken woman then turns to Ed, her voice softening. "Please continue, my dear. We're in this... strange situation together, as displeasing as it may be." She gestures for Ed to go on, throwing one last stern look at Abdullah.
Ed hesitated for a moment, then finds her courage. "Yeah, um... you can call me Ed. I was a student before I found myself here, and—"
Once again, Abdullah interrupts, his tone dripping with condescension. "Student? Little girls should not tell lies!" He turns to Erlik, seeking support, but finds only a deepening frown on the other man's face.
The other woman's patience finally snaps. She shouts, her voice ringing off the velvet-draped walls,
"Look at me, shit face! I swear, if you interrupt her one more time, I will kick your misogynistic ass!"
Abdullah, flustered by the lack of support from Erlik and the woman's fierce defense of Ed, knows better than to argue for argument's sake. While he doesn't yield his oppressive attitude entirely, he feigns defeat.
"What a perverse woman you are," he mutters. "I will let your threats slide, but don't think I am afraid of you!"
"Yeah, whatever..." the woman replies, choosing not to push further. She can see that Abdullah, despite his behavior, is no simple man. His eyes still gleam with intelligence and a hint of cunning. More, she cannot see any hint of anger, only calculation.
Emboldened by the support of the other woman and Erlik's silent disapproval of Abdullah's behavior, Ed takes the initiative once more.
"Yeah, I am—was—a student, and I was about to graduate..."
The other woman, curious, asks, "What were you studying?"
"I'm in the last year of my Ph.D.," Ed replies, a hint of pride creeping into her voice.
"Yes, you were..." Abdullah adds sarcastically, but the others ignore him.
The other woman's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"You seem too young for that. If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"
Ed's cheeks flush slightly, and she hesitates before answering. "Actually, it's my second Ph.D., so I was..."
"Two?!" the other woman exclaims, her expression a mix of shock and admiration. "Wow, you must be really smart." Ed only looks at the ground shyly, unused to such praise.
The two men, however, don't seem particularly impressed or surprised by this revelation. Their faces remain impassive, as if the concept of advanced degrees holds little meaning in their worlds.
"And I'm Evelynn," the other woman declares, breaking the awkward silence. "A mercenary and private detective."
Once again, the two men's expressions remain unchanged, but this time there's a hint of confusion in their eyes. Evelynn raises an eyebrow, noticing their blank looks.
"Do you know what a detective is?" she asks, her tone a mixture of curiosity and exasperation.
Both men shake their heads simultaneously, their faces expectant, clearly waiting for an explanation.
Evelynn rolls her eyes dramatically, gesturing around the room with a sweeping motion of her arm. "This is going to take a while..." she sighs, while Ed struggles to stifle a giggle.
As the blue flame continues to flicker, casting its ethereal light over the four mismatched individuals, the gravity of their situation begins to sink in as hours pass. After continuous back and forth, they conclude that they are strangers not only spatially, but temporally isolated.
Plucked from different times and places, thrust into a world they don't understand. And now, in this velvet-draped room they must find a way to bridge their differences and reach a consensus.