One might have mistaken him for a wet rat when he tumbled out the spatial tear. But it was instead a dripping wet, roughed up, and dirty young man that sprawled out on the ground. Goddamnit, leave ME BE! He didn't even have the strength to curse aloud.

Or did he? Most of his recent stress was more mental than physical. Sure when he came to himself, he was greeted by cascading water and a falling ceiling. But being submerged by this so pure water seemed to strip all his scratches just as they occurred. He was still pretty thankful for the vines that held on the block of stones the several seconds he had needed to get out of the way.

He grumbled some more and got to his feet. He was in better shape all things considered, despite his inadvertent consumption of... "a dubious magical apple?" He had been forced to run for the Doors. He didn't know which one he had taken, he just went through. "And boy what a trip that was..." he muttered. As he was busy dusting himself and removing the somehow caked dirt that had made the trip with him, he was blindsided by the setting sun when he finally lifted his head.

He quickly put a hand up and got a look around. He was in some sort of ancient ruin. He spotted three doors again just in front of him several dozen meters away, probably the same he had so recently come through. Looking behind him he was surprised not to find one there as well. "Shit. One-way trip then?" Yet this time, the doors were all silent and he could see the sun through. They were barely anything more than hollowed slabs of stone.

In between, a cracked pillar barely stood. Well, the foot of it was still straight, but the top was broken and crumbled below. Above it, some strange silverish lava lamp was bubbling happily without care. He shrugged. He looked around some more, he didn't know how the ceiling hadn't fallen on him yet as five of the six pillars supporting it were broken. The ceiling itself had more cracks than a thousand-year-old papyrus. He hoped that there wouldn't be a repeat event of his previous predicament.

Beyond, he could only see the sky as if he were on the top of the world. He spotted a few clouds far away, red-gold under the sun. It took the young man's breath away. He hadn't been outside of a hospital for a very long time. He took a few steps, uncomfortable steps as he was still barefoot, but felt the floor give. He stopped right away, adrenaline spiking a bit. The dark stone floor wasn't in any better shape than the rest, but it seemed solid enough, at least, where he was currently standing. Thankfully the few steps had been enough to give him a peak at the ground.

A massive crystal rose from the ground. Compared to the dark golden forest beside it, it must have been several hundred meters tall. He whistled. "That's a big one." He said to himself. At its foot, a small lake reflected the obelisk giving the young man the feeling it was floating in the air. "Add a big castle around it and it's a perfect fantasy setting." He chuckled. Still, this picture reminded him of some game he'd played while hospitalized. His mind buzzed for a second, but he quickly shook it off. "Nope, not going there." He said aloud. Recalling names was dangerously painful he had learned, despite himself.

Still beside a few far-off mountains, a river here and there, and kilometers of forest, there was nothing down there. No civilization. Everything seemed so still it was creeping the young man. So he stepped away and turned around. The three doors weren't that far away and he cautiously made his way to them. He didn't know what to expect, but he was sure he didn't want to be caught off guard again. In his flight, he had had the presence of mind to grab both his improvised bag and staff. He used the latter to check the ground in front of him. He didn't want to fall into some pit or something.

Here and there, on his way, he found parts of the ceiling that had fallen. Looking up, he could see the sky through. The dome wasn't that high and neither was it wide, it seemed. "Let's hope the floor is resting on something more than air then..." he muttered. Just thinking about the contrary was making him dizzy. He hadn't had the opportunity to be afraid of high lately, but it did remind him of the few times he attempted to dive from the highest board at the swimming pool. Not quite fond of heights, am I? he observed.

He reached the three inert doors quickly enough. He went through one, without any effect. Not that he expected anything different, as they were powered down, obviously.

"So how do I get you guys back online?" he asked aloud. He didn't expect an answer. He inspected the slabs of sparkling stone. They were all the same, plain stone barely chiseled with three crystals jutting out from the top. The shape and layout of the crystals differed a bit though, as if they had somehow grown from the stone. He didn't know what they meant, but he was sure they were important. He took a few steps back and looked at the whole thing. He tried to poke at the crystals, just in case. But nothing happened. He'd hoped to find a switch of some sort, maybe somewhere to put his hand so that the whole thing would light up like on some TV shows. But there weren't any hands, or some other limb, shaped indent anywhere.

He sighed. "This just can't be it!" he said, this time a bit louder, angry even. "I can't just wake up in another world only to die because some dumbass forgot to 'power the goddamn portals!'" Raging, he looked back at the lava lamp. That thing IS powered. So ... How do I get whatever it is that powers it to light the doors?

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

He stepped around the pillar and gave it more attention. "Even if the damn thing is broken, it's still working." Just being near the floating silver bubble he could feel the power emanating from it. "I've already bit a magical apple once, you guys won't fool me twice!" he said, with a bit of desperation in his voice. Yet he didn't see anything obvious that would help him move the silvery liquid toward the doors.

"Weren't the old one covered in silver light as well?" he observed. "Damn." He removed his bag from his shoulder and took a few steps away. He lifted his almost two-meter-long staff and poked the blob of silver. It didn't feel like poking through anything solid, but the bubble rippled like water. The tip of his staff didn't seem to suffer from anything. No burns, no crystals, or cracks appeared.

"I'm pretty sure this is going to jump me in the face when I touch it," Again the situation felt familiar, but he refrained to ponder this too much. "It's the apple all over again. Give me a break for five minutes!" he shouted. But all things considered, the only effect the apple had had on him was to hurt him as if he were roasted in hellfire. Nothing he hadn't handled before if he was honest with himself. And he had survived fine without any secondary effects. "Strangely," he added. "Maybe I should complain a bit more... No pain no gain, my ass!"

He was getting grumpier by the second. He was honestly tired of everything, while the situation abstractly was fun and all, he wasn't ready for all this. All he wanted was some rest and some time to figure out his new body. "But I don't have that much time, do I?" His rations were five yellow apples and no water. He could probably wait here a day. Maybe two? He sighed. "And then what?"

"After all, isn't that what adventuring is? Getting from one shitty situation to another without knowing how it will end?" he muttered. He felt foolish to have yearned for this when he was in his hospital bed. "Stepped right into it, haven't I?"

"Yeah. Yeah," he said, the second time with a bit more conviction. "At least, now I can do something about it, can't I?"

"It's an Alice situation," he observed. "I'm Alice, and that blob is the rabbit hole, ain't it? I can either die here, or on my hospital bed whatever, or I can just accept all this and deal with it." He looked at the blob again. "I'm not going to die here," he stated. "I'm not going to die here," he repeated, resolute. "Or anywhere else!"

He threw his staff on the ground and lurched toward the silver ball. He could feel the crackling energy flowing in the liquid before even touching it. One could be blind and still see the thing for how potent it was. But he didn't relent. He grabbed the ball with both his hands and... was instead grabbed by it. Silver lightning flowed out, dragging the liquid silver mirror all over his body, burning every step of the way. He screamed, he raged, as he fell to the ground spasming. The only thing besides the pain he felt was his pure resolution not to be defeated by this thing. So he endured and put his Will against the clawing invasion of the silver liquid.

He felt it racing over his skin, into his veins, reaching his bones, in his very soul. He discovered parts of himself he didn't even know existed! Three balls of light appeared in his mind. A small golden one was hidden deep in his brain, barely bigger than a needlepoint. A liquid one was swirling below his stomach as if a miniature storm was raging in his entrails he hadn't even known about. And a third one, like a small ball of fog stirred around his heart. He could feel and see the three of them, shining in their own light, each with its own color and vascular system. And he could see the silver liquid, intruding everywhere, but distinctly reaching toward these three centers of power.

He didn't know what to do, but he pushed against the silver invader. He could see the little golden orb in his head radiating some light that rippled through his body, following some bright golden filaments. Yet when both met, the clash was one-sided and the silver liquid pushed through. Certainly not stopped, but slowed it had been. Invigorated but this small success, he pushed again, and again. Each time he was rebuffed. When the silver tide finally reached his centers, he was done for. He hadn't any ounce of Willpower left. But he was happy. He had given everything and he had somehow made some of the silver light merge into his own. By the time it was done, only scraps of silver remained. He didn't know what it meant, but he was sure it was a good thing. Probably. He had bled his enemy dry, and he took that as a victory.

And now, the silver liquid flowed out, like a receding tide. There was barely any of it left. It concentrated for some reason on his right forearm, and a weird book tattoo appeared along with four strange rectangular gems. By the time it was done, the young man let himself pass out. Happy to have prevailed.

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When he woke up after having yet again blacked out, he didn't feel refreshed. He was sore both from his recent torture and from having spent probably several hours lying on the uneven and crackled floor. When he put his right arm in front of his eyes, he could now observe his new tattoo. So... it happened, he sighed as if his soreness hadn't been enough of a hint.

It represented a wide-open book, or maybe a grimoire. On its left page, a neat column of four little gems was inlaid onto his skin. With his finger he could distinctly feel them, hot to the touch. Little rectangles of colored glass, each of his own color. One green, one brown, one yellow and a blue. He didn't know what they meant, but he could see four matching, empty, slots on the right page of the book. "So I guess I'll have to find them?" he wondered aloud.

Below the book a wide compass was represented, filled with two dozen little round slots, just like the rectangular one he had in the book. The strange compass tattoo seemed to be alive, moving along with his arm, pointing away from him. Both the book and the compass seemed to be floating just above his skin, yet weren't. "An animated GIF tattoo," he sighed. Too much, just too much... He attempted to sit up and look in the direction he was pointed to, only to collide with something. "... a floating book?" he grumbled.

Only to be further befuddled by his surroundings. "What the hell?"