Chapter 1: Wrong Pce, Wrong TimeI sat in the cold stone prison cell. The walls were worn, and the door was made of aged wood with heavy, rusting iron bands. I was literally wearing a potato sabsp; Steam rose from a dark wooden bowl of potato soup he stone sb that was my bed. I was not hungry, though. It was my sed day of residenbsp; How did I get here?
My nephew decided to have a shotgun wedding in South Dakota…in January. His high school girlfriend regnant, and her father was insisting on it. I decided to drive out from North Carolina for the wedding. While I was driving across the state of South Dakota, it started snowing—“white-out ditions” snowing. My phone wasn’t getting any signal, and my GPS was not w. It had gotten so bad that visibility was nil, and the snow was accumuting fast on the highway with no plows in sight. I decided I had to get off the road.
If you have ever driven through South Dakota, you know there is nothing in South Dakota. I took what I thought was a off the highway and drove down a road looking for a hotel, restaurant, or at least a gas station to wait out the storm. There were none of these things as I drove a short way down the narrow road off the highway. I tried to turn around but, of course, got my little Toyota RAV4 stubsp; I sat in the car for about an hour, watg my gas gauge go down. I started turning the car on and off, heating the car when it got too cold. I got out every time I restarted the car to ehe exhaust was clear and then eagerly warmed my cold body and hands for a few minutes.
Soon, it was su, and my gas was getting close to empty. It was around 1:00 a.m. when I finally ran out of gas. Fortunately, it was barely snowing now. I noticed a light in the distanbsp; I was fairly certain it was not a streetmp, so I bundled up and approached it. I had to break through the 3-foot-deep snow to reach the light. It was tough, but when I finally arrived, I found a rge barn. I walked around the building, looking for the associated farmhouse, but didn’t see anything in the minimal light. I then decided to break into the barn, and I was able to pry the old door open just enough to squeeze in.
I used the light on my phoo examihe interior. Eventually, I found peared to be some old horse bs. At least, they smelled like horses. Being cold and exhausted, I buhe horse bs into a makeshift and curled up to get some sleep. I could see my breath, and my fingers and toes were numb from the cold.
I woke up to light bleeding through the barn door. I looked for my phone and couldn’t find it, and to my shock, I was also naked. I didn’t remember stripping, but I had been cold, exhausted, and disoriented. I began crawling on the floor, looking for my clothes. I noticed it wasn’t that cold. The barn door swung open as I was searg on my hands and knees. A middle-aged woman stood there, aared momentarily at each other.
Weirdly, the first thing I noticed was that there was no snow outside. Had I just pulled a Rip Van Winkle?
Well, she screamed and ran off to my right. I tried to get her to calm down, running after her and yelling that I was not going to hurt her, but I fot I was naked. I ran out of the barn to find myself standing butt-naked in the middle of a farm. There en stable to the left with some horses, a handful of chis running around, and a rge tral farmhouse that had three young men running from it. I tried to talk to the angry boys, but they didn’t seem to speak English and were yelling at me. Eventually, an older man came out with a small, a-looking crossbow. I k and immediately put my hands behind my head to appear as non-threatening as possible. It worked, as I wasn’t shot, aually, the younger boys tied me up, talking rapidly with their parents. Some words sounded somewhat familiar, but the speech was too fast for me to uand.
After talking amongst themselves, they seemed to decide I o be brought to the polibsp; They put me in a wooden wagon, still naked, and hooked up some horses. I thehe six hours boung around, watg fields of wheat and rye pass by. My captors didn’t respond to any of my efforts to unicate. Eventually, we entered a walled city that would fit any medieval setting. I was quickly escorted into a stone building and into my current cell, and given a rge, coarse burp sack with holes for my head and arms.
No ohered trying to unicate with me. But after two days, a man finally entered my cell. He wore rich yellow robes with a pristine white shirt and bck pants. He had an impassive face as he stood over me and looked at the half-eaten bowl of potato soup.
He introduced himself by handing me a medallion. I took the fist-sized disc cautiously. “This device will allow us to talk openly with each other, fner.” I uood him. So, this world had some type of teology—ibsp; “I am Magistrate Advocate Persius. Your crimes have been logged. Do you wish your o be associated with the writ, or should we leave it bnk?” I was still staring i the amulet when what he said caught up to me.
“Crimes?” I questioned, standing with a cold foreboding running through me. As I spoke, my words were twisted into an unfamiliar nguage. He stepped back but did not seem afraid of me. I did not look all that threatening in a sack.
He straightened. “You have been victed of four separate charges. Trespassing, assault, attempted rape, and theft,” he said, reading from the part. “Each crime has a penalty of ten silver.”
My mouth hung, uo work. I was in shock at everything happening and the magic devi my hand. I stuttered, “What? I had no trial.”
The Magistrate sighed. “A visiting Truthseeker already firmed the crimes by questioning Hydran and his family. The verdict has been stamped and logged, and the court has paid the fio Hydran. You must now return the funds to the court.”
“ I talk to the truthseeker to clear my crimes?” I asked hopefully, studying the disc.
“No, he has already returo the city. We only received this transtion amulet on loan to expin things to you, since you seem to be a fner in the Empire,” he said with something that was almost pity.
Besides trespassing, everything seemed to be cocted by the farmers for as much wealth as possible. I wao be angry, but didn’t think that would be me at the moment. The Magistrate sighed at my silence. “If you ot pay, you be ‘bored out’ by the court. It should take two years to pay the funds back to the Empire.”
My disbelief was evident, and I think he smirked. He let it sink in before tinuing, “Or you joianding army. Fners are wele, and you will pick up our tongue quickly. You will be trained, fed, and sheltered. The pay for a soldier is one silver a copper per week after you finish the severaining—three times the remuion of a borer.”
He expounded further on the bes of the army. “You look a little fbby, but have excellent size. Whatever your profession prior to your crimes—” he scrutinized my tall, ht frame “—the army will teach you discipline and help you acclimate to the Empire. After your debt is paid, you will draw a bi-monthly wage. Enough to return to your homend.” He smiled reassuringly.
I hesitated. It seemed he was more a recruitment director than a Magistrate, and I could guess why my trial had not included my presenbsp; I assumed I was not oh or Earth’s past or future. My ay was holding silence as my mind raced. I was alone and uain how they would treat someone from another world.
“I will join the army,” I said hesitantly. My decision was for a few reasons—first, the prote of being in an anization. Sed, I had nothing, so being fed and clothed was an iive. The third reason was that I had no idea how to defend myself in this new world, and I felt my best ce of living was learning how to fight.
The Magistrate smiled like it had been a fone clusion. He was niough to answer my questions patiently, as he thought I was from a distant kingdom—little did he know. I was ied in the currency system to find out how deep i I actually was. The moary system followed: one hundred copper s equal one silver . One hundred silver s equal one gold . He showed me a silver , and it was about the size of a nickel. A rge was the size of a half dolr and was worth ten s.
The Magistrate produced a rge stoablet with silvery writing on it. “You are fortuhat I was here testing some youth. This is an assessment tablet. Do you have them where you e from?”
“No. What does it do?” I asked, looking at the well-worn stone.
His appraisal of me seemed to fall at my ignoranbsp; He smiled tightly. “It will check your potential and ability. The army has minimum standards, but with your size, I think this is a formality.” I was just shy of 6’1” and somewhere between 240 and 250 pounds. He instructed me to hold the tablet. I held the tablet for a moment, and the Magistrate activated it with his magic—definitely magiot teology. It glowed, and the silvery script appeared.
The letters looked vaguely familiar, but I could not read the words. However, the numbers were reizable. The Magistrate told me what each line revealed, knowing that I could not read it if I did not speak the nguage.
The Magistrate poio each line and read it to me, expining each as he read it.
Physical
Mental
Magical
Strength
21/79
Intellect
25/54
Aether Pool
7/21
Power
22/82
Reasoning
33/59
eling
2/55
Quiess
16/49
Perception
44/60
Aether Shaping
0/8
Dexterity
14/55
Insight
18/48
Aether Tolerance
19/50
Endurance
30/87
Resilience
40/71
Aether Resistance
3/19
stitution
19/65
Empathy
9/21
Prime Aether Affinity
Space
Coordination
10/60
Fortitude
24/87
Minor Aether Affinity
Time
His voice was schorly as he spoke. “This is a very old tablet and may not be precisely calibrated, but it should be close. The first number is your current score, and the sed is your potential as a human. You are a human?”
“What? Yes, I am a human,” I blurted out. Were there non-humans?
He nodded in firmation. “Now, a normal person typically has a current score between 10 and 25 with a potential between 30 and 60. The upper limit for a human is 100. The seven physical stats are very important for your new career as a soldier. Strength basically details how much weight you move with your muscles.” He looked at my ht frame dubiously. Not that the Magistrate looked fit himself.
“Your power is how fast you move the weight. Quiess is how fast you move a. Dexterity reflects the manual trol of your hands. Endurance reflects how long you perform physical-reted tasks. stitution is your ability to ighe pain and recover from injury. Lastly, coordination is your trol over your entire body.”
He shifted in his stand tinued, “Now, the requirements to join the general army are to have a potential of at least 40 in strength and enduranbsp; So you qualify, gratutions.” He sounded slightly mog. “There is also a more advanced unit, the Legion of the Lion; you have probably heard of our famed legionnaires. They require you to have a minimum potential of 40 in all physical attributes and also 60 potential in Strength and Power. I will warn you, only about o of every three plete the training, as it is quite rigorous.”
“What does the rest of the tablet say?” I asked, fasated by the devid disregarding my plight.
He looked down at it. “Not important for your new career, but I will expin anyway—like I would to a child. The n is your mental traits. Your intellect shows your intelligence, how well you recall knowledge. Your reasoning is your ability to uand…” he stopped before transting the numbers further. Running his finger down the sed and thehird n. “Ah, it’s surprising that you have excelleal attributes and potential. Unfortunately, yic traits are weak; otherwise, you might have been able to enroll in one of the Mage Colleges with a sponsor. Your affinities are both extremely rare as well.” There was a Mage College? And I was not good enough for one.
The Magistrate thought to himself for a long moment. “Ah, sorry to get sidetracked. Let’s see…your reasoning is your ability to utilize information. Your perception is your awareness of the physical world. Your insight is your ability to decipher knowledge and make leaps of uanding.” He looked at me doubtfully. “Resilience is your ability to resist mental attacks. Empathy is your ability to interpret other people’s disposition. Finally, fortitude is your ability to fun under mental fatigue and duress.”
He paused to stretch his back from holding the stone. “Now, the final n just represents yic ability.” He started talking faster to get this over with. “Your Aether Pool reflects how much magic aether your body hold. eling reflects how fast you use aether and replenish aether. Shaping is the ability to mold aether into a usable struct or spell form. Your Aether Tolerance is how much aether you el over the course of a day, before sustaining damage to your body. Your aether resistance is your ability to resist magid aether backsh. All things you need not worry about, as you will never be a mage.”
He smiled genially. “Now, the final two lines are your affinities. There are 21 affinities in magibsp; Seven on, seven unon, and seven rare. Your two affinities are rare, but the rest of yical stats are not impressive. If you were to attend a Mage College, you would be evaluated for all 21 magic affinities, as each ranks between 0 and 100 as well. This simple, old tablet only lists your two highest affinities.”
He paused a me ask questions. “What would be my term of servi the army and Legion of Lion?”
He couldn’t hide his grin, like he had hooked a fish. “Just five years. All your expenses will be paid by the Empire. The Lion is ae unit and will also take outnders. But do not get your hopes up; even though your potentials qualify you, remember that only one in three finish the training. If you fail, though, the only punishment is to be relegated to the regur army.” He added, “The Legiohe elites. They get higher pay, better food, and are trained more thhly. As a legionnaire, your pay is five silver and forty copper per week. Five times a soldier.”
“What does the legion do that is different from the army?” I questioned.
He gestured grandly, trying to sell me on it. “They serve as the elite troops of the kingdom, guarding mages, serving as royal guards, and ag as elite troops in battle. The training is seven months, much lohan the seven weeks for a soldier,” he eborated.
I sidered it and decided to apply to the Legion of the Lion. I thought seven months of training would be much better for my survivability than the seven weeks I would get as a soldier. I said, somewhat fidently, “The Legion of the Lion.”
The Magistrate smiled and said, “Great! I will take care of the paperwork.” I ter found out the Magistrate got bonuses of one silver for each soldier he recruited and a quarter gold for each legionnaire he recruited. Maybe the crafty Magistrate had thought he had led me to make my decision for me, but I had my own reasons.
For the meal, my potato soup had meat added to it and a half loaf of buttered bread. I felt like I ig being fattened fhter now that I knew my fate. After two days, I was off in a wagon. I had a sealed letter with a copy of my tablet reading. Some city soldiers would be esc me and others to the training camp. Without the amulet to transte, I felt isoted, but tried to stave off the depression by fog on survival.
It was a six-day trip, and the caravan stopped in small towns every night, adding more potential soldiers ionnaires each time. I couldn’t unicate, so I just observed and listened. Some words sounded familiar if I slowed down the speed filtered the heavy at. I o learn the nguage as quickly as possible, but no one wao take the time to help me.
We had seven guards and four open wagons. My guards and fellow recruits did not want to take the time to help me with my nguage barrier. So, I did my best to pick up words. When I learned water was called aqua, I realized the nguage was based on Latin—or maybe it was Latin. I took three years of Spanish in high school and only remembered how to say was “my name is Eryk.”
By the time we arrived at the camp, there were 24 recruits, including me. The main camp was for training soldiers. It looked like there were roughly 1000 soldiers in training here, in groups of 25 as they marched in five-by-five blocks. I didn’t have much time to watch, as 21 recruits from my caravan got out here. Two er recruits and I were brought to a smaller camp, the training camp for the Legion of the Lion, which was located at a rge manor nearby.
My two panions from the trip and I were brought inside a wooden barracks. About three-fourths of the beds were occupied. We took three of the open bunks. I immediately went to sleep, mentally and physically exhausted from my ordeal so far.
