Chương 3

The first thing Noah's conscious mind registered was the soft blankets cocooning him. He reveled in the sensation, sinking deeper into the mattress with a contented sigh. Only when he realized the bed was far too comfortable to be his own did alarm begin to prickle at the edges of his awareness. The tower. The forest. The wood-monsters. The dragonfly creatures! Memory flooded back as his eyes shot open. He took in the room all at once.

The walls, ceiling, and floors were crafted from the same grey stone as the last strange building he'd woken in, though this space felt somehow cozier. A fireplace crackled merrily on the wall opposite the bed, sending wisps of smoke up a chimney. Intricately woven rugs covered sections of the stone floor, covered partially by a small dresser in the corner. A small bedside table with a water pitcher sat beside him, while an open window revealed that night had fallen since he'd lost consciousness.

Realizing he was safe for the moment, Noah slumped back onto the bed, shaking his head.

"I really hope this whole 'passing out in one place and coming to in another' thing isn't becoming a trend here." A moment later, the wooden door swung open and a woman entered. Long, rose pink hair cascaded to her mid-back. Her brown wool trenchcoat hung open, revealing how the green corset and dark leather pants hugged her curvy figure. She stood a good fifteen centimeters shorter than his 1. 9-meter height, though her brown leather boots with slight heels made it difficult to gauge precisely.

Noah watched her expectantly, noticing her almond-shaped golden eyes remained fixed on the book cradled in both hands. His gaze traced her soft, rosy cheeks and heart-shaped face that narrowed to a delicate chin, acknowledging how incredibly beautiful she was. She murmured softly to herself, brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the page before her. It was only then that Noah noticed her distinctly inhuman feature: a set of long, pointed ears.

While the pink hair could be explained by dye, such dramatically different ear shape couldn't be so easily dismissed. He stared with wide eyes, mouth gaping as he struggled to find his words.

"What..." he finally managed to croak out after thirty seconds of incredulous staring. It took her another ten seconds to look up from her book. When she did, she shrieked and jumped, dropping the volume onto her foot with a thud. She yelped in pain and began hopping around. Another woman burst into the room. Her green hair was tied in a tight bun, and she wore similar attire to the pink-haired woman: corset, pants, and boots of wool and leather.

Her face carried the lines of someone in their mid-50s, though her body appeared far younger - toned, muscular, and steady. Concerningly, she pointed a knife at Noah that was at least as long as his arm. Before Noah could react, the green-haired woman shouted at him in an unfamiliar language. He raised his hands in what he hoped was a universally non-threatening gesture. She held his gaze with piercing blue eyes a moment longer before glancing wordlessly at the pink-haired woman.

The movement drew Noah's attention to her pointed ears as well. After a long, awkward pause, the pink-haired woman began speaking in what sounded like an entirely different language. Her words were lilting and song-like yet conveyed urgency. Though he couldn't understand her, he saw her point at him, then the book, then her foot as she spoke, drawing a barking laugh from the green-haired woman. Seemingly satisfied, the green-haired woman lowered her knife and offered Noah a warm smile before exiting.

The pink-haired woman sheepishly retrieved her book, flipping through pages with a furrowed brow. Noah watched until the silence became too thick to bear.

"Uh... hi?" he ventured. She looked at him before crossing the small room in quick steps. Without preamble, she sat on the bed uncomfortably close, placing the book on her lap and holding up one hand as if to ask him to wait. Her natural floral scent filled the air as Noah's body became keenly aware of his nakedness next to this beautiful woman, responding in the way most male bodies would. Please don't notice. He mentally pleaded.

The last thing I need is for her to think I'm some pervert and call her green-haired friend. Finally, the pink-haired woman cried out in triumph. Noah propped himself up slightly, looking down at a page with three obviously hand-written characters. Before he could ask what she was doing, she laid her palm flat on the blank page opposite and carefully tore the sheet from the book. Then several inexplicable things happened at once. Her hand flexed on the page, causing it to disintegrate.

Faint silver and gold afterimages of the characters hung momentarily in the air before vanishing. A soft chiming sound rippled between them for a fraction of second before silence returned.

"This will provide an excellent opportunity for study." the woman. Noah blinked in surprise at his sudden ability to understand her.

"I… what?" She blinked for a moment, then furrowed her brow in confusion before the expression on her face suddenly brightened. Holding up her index finger in the universal symbol ' just one second', she opened her book once more and found another page before repeating the process. When the afterimages and chiming sounds faded she spoke again.

"To study," she repeated.

"Scholarly texts on language‑comprehension spells indicate that native mastery over other languages enhances the spell's effectiveness. I have not cast it in some time - not since I learned to speak Common without magic. However, based on your words in the forest and just now, it appears that you cannot speak Common. Can you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Noah said slowly, still trying to make sense of the paper and the light show.

"I will interpret that as a no. Therefore, I would like to determine whether increased spell effectiveness requires the caster to have grounding in the target's specific language, or whether effectiveness scales with mastery of any additional languages." As she spoke, Noah couldn't help but notice that the sounds he was hearing didn't quite match the movements of her - admittedly very pretty - pink lips. It was like a badly dubbed foreign film, only happening in real time.

Her eyes refused to meet his, and her fingers fidgeted with the several silver rings on her hands.

"Alright, hang on." Noah said finally, shaking his head.

"Let's… back up a bit. You said you rescued me from the forest?" The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Yes. You were attacked by glasswing stingers. There was also a cut on your leg that appeared to have been caused by a twig blight, though I cannot be certain." As discreetly as possible, Noah pulled the covers aside to inspect his body. When all he saw was smooth, unblemished skin, he blinked several times. The analytical part of his mind spun furiously as he examined himself more closely, then looked back at her.

"How long was I unconscious?"

"A day and a half." She answered.

"Impossible." He shook his head.

"Those cuts were deep. In a day and a half, they wouldn't even have closed - never mind healed. I'd still be bandaged. There isn't even any scarring." She tilted her head, puzzled, still avoiding his gaze.

"A spell of greater healing should not leave scars. Surely you know this. Healing magic is not so rare in Therondale as to be unheard of." Noah's brain stalled completely.

"Magic?" She fiddled with one of her rings.

"Apparently, knowledge of additional languages does not bolster the effectiveness of the language‑comprehension spell. Interesting." He stared at her.

"Look. I don't know what's happening right now. All I know is that I was climbing into a cave in Siberia, I fell, and then I woke up in a tower with strange writing on the floor. I tried to find civilization, got attacked by fucking trees from hell and dragonflies from - " Her eyes snapped up, locking onto his for the first time.

"Did you say you woke up in the tower?"

"Yes." he said, frowning.

"Why is that the most surprising part of this story?"

"Mother!" she shouted. The green‑haired woman burst into the room a heartbeat later.

"He is another one," the pink‑haired woman continued breathlessly.

"A traveller!" The older woman's already pale skin drained of what little color it had left. She fired off a rapid series of questions in the foreign language, receiving only curt nods and brief confirmations in response. Frustratingly, she stuck to the same tongue as before, preventing Noah from understanding a single word. Then she turned and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. The pink‑haired woman faced Noah again, her gaze intense.

She pulled a small pad of paper and a charcoal pencil from her coat pocket.

"I have so many questions." she said eagerly.

"Tell me - what was it like to - ""No," Noah interrupted, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, but I need answers first. What the hell is going on?" She hesitated, then looked away.

"You're right. This process must be… disorienting. The laws of hospitality are clear - I should answer a guest's questions before asking my own." She took a breath.

"Please. Ask, and I will answer as best I can." Her blush, and the faint disappointment in her voice, softened his tone.

"Let's start simple." he said.

"Names. Mine is Noah Calder."

"Names. Yes." she nodded.

"My name is Cyrinthra‑Poluquien Kenael'thira Qoræthis." He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again.

"Is there… a shorter version you prefer?"

"Yes. My family calls me Ciri."

"Ciri I can manage." he smiled faintly.

"It's good to meet you. And it sounds like you saved my life."

"Yes. You would have died in the forest if I hadn't healed you and brought you here."

"Then thank you." Noah said earnestly.

"Whatever it cost you, I'll repay it. I'm in your debt."

"I - oh." she looked startled.

"I have never - You can repay me by answering my questions!"

"I'm happy to," he said.

"But that's not enough. I insist. Still… I'll be better equipped to answer you if I understand what's going on."

"Context is important," she agreed.

"You are in a realm known as Tenebrae. More specifically, near the western coast of the Kingdom of Therondale."

"Tenebrae. Therondale." Noah repeated flatly.

"Yes. I am one of the Fae - the primary sapient peoples of this realm. Humans from your world have crossed through portals over the last several thousand years and now also make their homes here."

"Portals," he echoed, skepticism deepening.

"Portals," she confirmed.

"Are you having difficulty understanding me? The language spell should not be expiring so quickly."

"No. I understand you," he said.

"I'm just… struggling to accept it."

"You came through a portal to reach the tower," she said gently.

"Is it truly so difficult to believe?" He paused, weighing his next words.

"Try to put yourself in my shoes."

"My… shoes?" She turned, glancing toward the boots abandoned in the corner of the room.

"I fail to see how wearing yours would help me." A faint, startled laugh escaped him.

"No, no. It's an idiom. It means 'try to imagine yourself in my situation.'""Ah." She nodded and immediately scribbled something onto the paper in front of her.

"I have… difficulty… with idioms and symbology. Sometimes I struggle with some social cues as well. Could you refrain from using them and instead speak plainly?"

"Yes," he said.

"Alright. Let's try again." He took a breath.

"Imagine you are me. You're an engineer - ""What is an engineer?" she interrupted. He frowned, searching for the simplest explanation.

"Someone who applies science to solve problems." She paused her writing.

"Science?"

"The study of fundamental truths about the nature of… well, everything. The world. The universe."

"Ah!" She resumed scribbling.

"Then you are a scholar."

"I mean, I didn't do a master's or a PhD or anything, but - " He stopped at the look of confusion on her face.

"You know what? Yes. I'm a scholar. A scholar that applies their learnings to make things. That's a close enough interpretation."

"Yes. Good." She nodded.

"I am a scholar, so this is easy for me to imagine." Noah filed that away before continuing.

"So imagine you're a scholar - but from a world that doesn't have magic. You grow up, live, and work without it. You've heard of magic, but only in stories." He paused, making sure she was following.

"Then, suddenly - by complete accident - you're dropped into a world where magic is real. Common, even. What would you think?" She pursed her lips, pencil hovering.

"I would likely assume I had suffered some form of head trauma affecting my perception of reality."

"I had the same thought," he said, nodding.

"Or that I'd been drugged. Hallucinations. Something like that."

"Oh! Like glamour," she said brightly, writing faster.

"Yes, yes. That makes much more sense."

"I'm glad it does."

"If your mind had been altered by a substance, the effect would eventually fade. So we need only wait to disprove that theory."

"Fair," Noah said.

"But you can't disprove the head injury idea, because-""Because any proof I provide would be subject to the same doubt," she finished.

"Yes. I understand. But pragmatically, it does not matter."

"I'm… sorry?"

"You are left with two possibilities," she said, suddenly serious.

"Either you have sustained a head injury, or everything I am telling you is real. If the first is true, there is no risk in acting as if this is real - it is all happening within your mind regardless. If the second is true, and you act as if it is not…" She met his eyes.

"Then you will likely die." He stayed silent.

"Tenebrae can be a dangerous place," she continued.

"You nearly died once already. If you do not learn how this world works, you may find yourself in another such situation - one where I am not there to save you."

"…Did you just use Pascal's Wager on me?" he asked.

"Who is Pascal?"

"A scholar from my world who - " He sighed.

"Never mind. That's a story for later." He straightened.

"Okay. I'll act as if everything you're telling me is real. Will you teach me about this world?"

"Yes!" A small, pleased smile curved her lips.

"So long as you tell me about your journey afterward."

"Deal."

"What would you like to know?" He thought back over everything she'd said, then latched onto one detail.

"When you realized where I was from, you called me a 'traveller' when you spoke to your mother."

"Yes. It is the colloquial term for those who cross between realms."

"You said I was another traveller," he said carefully.

"Which means there was at least one before me."

"Yes."

"Recently?" She considered.

"Approximately two years ago. It was… quite the event. The first traveller in over a thousand years." That's when Lucien disappeared. Noah's pulse quickened.

"Are they still here?"

"No. I did not meet him. He arrived, was received, and then left while I was away studying ruins with my father."

"Left where?" Noah pushed himself upright.

"Where did he go?"

"I do not know," she said.

"Others spoke with him through magic and determined his origin. Once informed of his circumstances, he expressed a desire to explore this world." Holy shit. That sounds exactly like Lucien. Noah's chest tightened.

"He boarded the ship of a trader who frequents the nearby port," she continued.

"Then he departed."

"I need to find that trader," Noah said immediately.

"As soon as possible."

"Why?"

"Because I think that traveller might have been my brother."