Hokum

Ex Nihilo

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jack spat, looking at the Pygmy like he was insane. “Did you even see what just happened – what, is seeing something like that normal for you?” As he was talking, Jack considered the Pygmies strain of thought, and ok, he was obviously of a simpler mind; devoted to things like superficial appeal, unconcerned with deeper thought. But it was that intuition that gave Jack an idea. He knew how life worked, after all; money talked, bullshit walked.

so what if…

Jack took the watch from his wrist and spoke to the creature straight: “Okay, how about I just give this to you, this, uhh, magical device? I’ll just hand it over to you. Hey, it’s only a watch made of gold capable of keeping tabs on the continuum of the universe, right? But there’s a catch, cutie. How about we make this interesting?” He attempted to provoke the creature, dangling the watch in Piper’s face. “You tell me what I want to know, and I give you my watch. That way you get the watch, but I get what I'm looking for in return, and yet you get to keep your coins as well. Deal?”

Ex Nihilo

Like someone seeing a dentist brandish a drill, Jack winced when the creature replied in the way it had done so earlier, using some variety of telepathic connection to his mind. It may have been normal for these people to communicate with animals in such a way, but for Jack it was going to take some getting used to. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to something like this. So intrusive…. And, on top of that, this little creature, now referring to itself as a Pygmy, didn’t seem to know what sarcastic humour was. Figures, all his jokes were going to be wasted on these freaks. But the Pygmy had made a good point, Jack was talking way more than he usually would, truth was that he never usually said more than necessary, but these extenuating circumstances seemed to have done something to him. Maybe all this jabbering was a way to cope, keep himself sane.

It was nice, like a bad thought finally gone from his mind, when the Pygmy stopped instilling his message.

“It was a joke, Pygmy, relax would ya.” He replied then dropped his eyes to his watch, the item the Pygmy seemed to show intervals of interest in, that was, when he wasn’t grooming himself or scratching fleas. Leaving the watch on his wrist, Jack twisted his arm a few times for the creature to take a better look. “And what, you like this?” He asked. “This is a Rolex watch, one of the most expensive on the market, worth more than… actually, never mind, I won’t waste my breath explaining. Anyway, what, you want to trade that little coin for this?” Jack now held a humorous smile, the type of look one might give to a child that offered his candy in exchange for a mans Ferrari.

It was then, while having his arm extended, that Jack caught view of someone in his peripheral vision. He turned his head quickly to lay sight on a dark image of a humanoid form standing in the center of the road. The person must have been eight feet in height, clothed entirely in a dark hooded robe. In the glow of the ridiculous amount of moons, it was hard to tell if the robe was black or a dark shade of some colour. But their hands couldn’t be seen in the coupled sleeves, their feet were hidden beneath the fall of the hem that touched the cobblestone, and their face was completely unseen in the darkness of their hood. Still, what struck Jack the most peculiar, even haunting, was that their entire person was enveloped in an emerald aura, like a shroud of soft, luminous fog. Whoever or whatever it was, they were facing Jack and Piper as if to be watching them. Intimidating to say the least.

Oh great… the grim reaper arrives…. Jack thought to himself as a shiver ran his body and caused him to shutter. And why not? Like things weren’t weird enough

With a voice born of both fear and courage, Jack called out to the mysterious stranger; “Who are you? What to do you want?” But in the closing of his words, the entity vanished in a blink. The road was empty.

Jack was morbidly pale as he returned his attention back to Piper.

“Tell me you saw that….” He wheezed as though cheated of breath.

Ex Nihilo

The light fluttering of wings wasn’t enough to alert Jack. He didn’t see Piper coming. The sudden spark of breath and ignition of fire just feet from his head had Jack startled, jumping back as though the door he was about to knock at had electrocuted him.

It took a quick moment to realise what had just happened, wide eyes on Piper perched on the sconce as the information sunk in.

“You are actually a drag…?” The question expelled incomplete from his mouth, while he took a quick look around the area for Cheryl. She was nowhere to be seen. “I always imaged you’d be bigger….” He said, looking back at Piper, “You really shouldn’t sneak up on people, I almost shit myself.” Jack had never shat his pants in his life, it was just a figure of speech. In fact, Jack wasn’t the type to scare easily under most circumstances, but the events of the last few hours had him understandably on edge.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, deciding to keep his voice lowered as not to wake anyone sleeping inside the house. It was one to knock with purpose on somebodies door in the middle of the night, another thing completely to wake someone up by standing on their porch having a conversation with a kitten-sized dragon. Not that he was yet certain Piper was an actual dragon. That question of itself seemed too bizarre for Jack to even consider at the moment.

“Why are you here?” Jack asked in a lowered tone, but not quite a whisper. “Come to mock me? Poke a little fun at the new guy for saving your girlfriends life? That would be about right. I’ve been on this God forsaken planet less than a few hour and have been chased by some horse size vulture, been accused of being a pervert with a sword to my throat, been given water that smelled like it was dredged from someone’s toilet, and then got interrogated by a guy wearing a red skirt and smelling like he hasn’t wiped his ass in over a year – so go ahead, you cute little bastard, take your best sho –”

Jack’s rant came to an abrupt halt as his eyes narrowed, peering at Piper like he was now watching the neighbour’s dog take a dump on his lawn.

“Wait… he changed his tone to match his look, “Is Cheryl in trouble or something? Oh, maybe she started up a blue-light disco in a building down the street and wants me to be the main dancing attracting to scoff at? Or did she kill someone else already? That wouldn’t surprise me. Have you come to fetch me so I can go and try and save her life again with not so much as a thank you for my effort??”

As Jack’s rant finally came to an end, he realised just how silly he must have looked talking to a small animal. Had this thing really projected its thoughts to him earlier that night? Everything was becoming very surreal to him at this point. At the very least, he felt a little better to have gotten all that off his chest.

Ex Nihilo

It’s funny, not in a ‘haha’ kind of way, the memories dredged up by the emotion of years detached.

Jack recalled a time when he was a child in school. He had at that time a crush on a girl in the same grade. Amy was her name. Amy didn’t really know who Jack was, since he kept to himself, but one day he heard that Amy’s birthday was coming up, so Jack spent some time preparing a gift for her in hopes to win her heart. Three days he spent drawing an image of her. It was a portrait of Amy. No, he wasn’t the best artist in the world, far from it, but he put his heart into it nonetheless. When Amy’s birthday rolled around, Jack worked up the courage to give the drawing to her at the end of the school day. Alas, Amy took less than one look at the drawing and laughed mockingly before snapping at Jack with a scouring sneer, ‘That is so fucking stupid’, she had said, ‘get away from me, freak!’ And there it was, the same stabbing hurt caused by Amy’s rejection, stabbing Jacks heart in much the same way as it did when Cheryl turned and snapped at him with a similar look on her face and tone in her voice.

The fun-loving smile ran from Jack’s face as his best impression of CM Hammer died, and he lowered the phone to his side while watching on rather glumly as Cheryl started to glow a turquoise hue and made her stand with the guards. No doubt he would have felt more impressed by her own exhibit had he not been feeling sorry for himself at the time. He continued to watch her and Sancho exchanged words. Nope, Jack could admit it, she apparently didn’t need his help, but how was he to know? More than that, who the hell was this girl - this girl that had such power and authority over the local law? At the very least, Cheryl would have certainly come in handy on a dark night.

There was so much more to this world Jack had entered. He knew nothing….

Jack continued to watch on in silence while Cheryl walked away with not so much as a thank you for his efforts. He had stepped out onto the porch of the tavern, watching her and her feathery pet fade into the distance on their way back home when he felt the urge to call after her with something like, ‘You know it’s customary where I come from to show gratitude when someone tries to help. Sure, you didn’t need my damn help, but how was I to know you could make your ass all shiny? Not like I tried to save your life or anything, right!? Bitch….’ But he found these words only remained stuck in his throat and echoing through his mind. This girl, Cheryl, would never know how he felt. Still, it was all for the best, the death of her mother was enough to worry about, she didn’t need to be antagonized or guilt tripped by some stranger as well.

He’d been wrong about her. She wasn’t the one who could help him.

As Jack came to this conclusion he found himself surrounded by the town guard. The same men that come to take Cheryl away had now come for him instead. Sancho stood up close, doing a fair job of hiding his caution for Jack as he opened his mouth to say in an authorising voice;

“We don’t know you, friend. We don’t know your kind.” He glanced down at the phone in Jack’s hand. “But around these parts we do not take lightly to those abetting the criminal type. You will accompany us to the Imperial Guards Station. You will answer some questions we have for you.”

Jack sighed as he slid the phone back in his pocket:

“Fine, Mr. my-breath-stinks-like-roadkill, let’s just get this shit over with.”

---

A small time later, Jack was in the watchhouse of the guards’ station, seated across from Sancho, a sorry excuse for a wooden table separating them. Several armed guards in blue uniforms occupied the room as well, lining the wall, all of them nervous, looking like they were at any moment prepared to drive a blade through Jack’s torso.

Sancho made himself as comfortable as he could under the circumstances, attempting to seem at ease as he rested back in his seat to regard Jack with an intimidating look.

“Listen to me.” He Sancho said, tapping his index finger on the table. “I can find no immediate reason to detain you at this point. Since you are… obviously new to these parts, you may not be aware of how things work around here. Nevertheless, we cannot let you walk free if there is at all a chance you pose a threat to this town or any of the towns under the reign of our Queen. You Are here because we need to understand where it is you come from. We need to know what your intentions hold.”

Jack rolled his eyes and slumped; “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble, I just saw the girl needed help and acted accordingly. You can see with your own eyes that I’m not from around here, sure, good for you. But if I told you where exactly I was from you’d imprison me, even kill me for so much as saying it. Let’s just say it is better that some things remain unsaid. Let me go now and I’ll be on my way. I have no quarrel with you or the people of this town. I have more important business to attend to.”

Sancho’s face became stone. “Tell me why you are here!”

“Hmm…” Jack rolled his eyes in a thoughtful manner, and replied; “I’m looking for someone, someone dear to me. I need to find her. I need to know she is safe. That is all I can say. Imprison me if you need to. I just don’t feel right telling you more than that. Yeah, I thought maybe Cheryl could helped me, but I was wrong. She seems a little preoccupied at the moment, if you know what I mean?”

Sancho grimaced. “Are you in league with her?”

“For fuck sake….” Jack muttered. "What did I just say...?"

Sancho furrowed his brow like someone that had heard something vaguely amusing.

“You didn’t listen to a word I said.” Jack continued. “I don’t even know that woman and her freaky lizard. I only met her tonight. I just figured she might be able to help me, so I tried to spare her from being beheaded, or whatever it is you depraved people do when executing someone around here. Primitive bunch of fuckers.... But I was obviously mistaken, right? I’ll need to find someone else, another way, yeah? Chill out, man. I'm not here to cause a problem. End of story.”

Sancho stared thoughtfully at Jack for a time, attempting in his own primitive way to makes sense of what Jack was telling him. Finally he spoke up once more, giving a nod to his subordinate guards to set themselves at ease, which they did, as Sancho replied to Jack:

“Very well, outsider, but before I release you, I request your name.”

“Names Jack. That's all you get. That's all I have to give you.”

“Jack." Sancho reaffirmed. "Unusual name. I haven't heard a name such as this before. It will be remembered... Ah, You must be from a far, far away land….” He now spoke suspiciously. “Very well, you can go. A word of warning, though. Stay clear of Cheryl. She is not the type to mingle with. No good can come of her. May the gods guide you on your own quest and may the Queens’s speed be with you. However, be warned, Jack, I will be sending out word of you to our Queen. We will be watching. Keep your magic to yourself…. If you know what is good for you….”

Despite Sancho’s words, Jack knew that his freedom was provided of fear. Sancho was afraid. Still, Jack wasn’t about to press his luck; he stood promptly from his chair, gave all the guards an equal look of recognition, and exited the guard station.

---

Out on the cobblestone street, Jack stood for a time staring up at the three moons in the star-spangles sky wondering what in the hell he was about to do next. Lowering his attention after some time, he gave a nod to the two guards guarding the door of the station before he made his way up the street, utterly ignoring anyone who may have been watching. His next stop was the house of Travius, which was now in darkness, and stood for a moment wondering on how a knock on the door would be received at this late hour.

He raised his fist to knock....

Ex Nihilo

Jack was literally scratching his head as the woman and her pet took off.

Temper that magic? Ciao? Meathead?

It's possible he had said something wrong, but as he quickly hit rewind and played back the prior succession of incidents in his mind, Jack realised - at the time - he wasn't even aware of the bottle breaking, which he now was. But he still wasn't aware of the fact that something inside of his person caused the hearth fire to rage out of control for several seconds.

'Wait…' he called after her, but the word never made from his mind to his mouth 'did I do something here?'

She continued in haste, her and her pet, towards the door as he lowered his hand and looked down at the shattered bottle, the frozen liquid, and realised that there was no one else nearby who could have possibly done that. The wacky lady and her pet surely didn’t, that is, if her reaction was genuine. From the broken mead bottle, his eyes lifted to the bartender who was now standing with back against the wall, looking pale as a corpse while his apron and trouser pants were growing with the spread of his own urine.

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry, dude” Jack said with a sigh, and turned to pursue the girl.

She hadn’t gotten far, only to the door, where she’d been stopped by what looked like, uh…. Really? Why am I not surprised ancient Roman-style soldiers are involved in this? One of whom had a sword to her throat. What was it with these people?”

Jack took a stance fairly close, but not too close, able to hear and see the very informative conversation taking place. Apparently this girls name was Cheryl Lusby, wanted on two accounts of murder, one victim being no other than her own mother - the latter accusation being something that Cheryl adamantly objected to. Of course, as one would expect from a primitive race like this, such a crime warranted an execution. Curious, though, the entire scene played out like some cliché setup. He’d seen this sort of thing in more movies than he would care to recall. Really, they were horrible movies, so predictable. But they did help Jack realise that no, this girl wasn’t guilty of killing her own mother. If not for the reflection of B-grade Hollywood films, the tone in Cheryl’s voice was convincing enough. Hearing the truth in someone’s voice was something Jack knew well, too well in fact, since his occupation back home trained him well to recognize when someone was sincere, or not. This girl was innocent, at least of her mother’s murder.

Regardless of the fact that she may have killed the other victim in question, which to be fair Jack didn’t really doubt at all, he couldn’t let her be executed. Not that he valued her life all that much, but as far as he could tell she was still the person most likely to help him. She seemed smarter than the others, less paranoid, perhaps? It was also possible that since she was a little bit crazy and misunderstood that she would be more likely to believe his story. That is, if he ever got a chance to share it…. And hey, truth be told, she was kinda cute. No sense in wasting a good looking woman over something so trivial as a murder. Wait… never mind

In any case, Jack had to try and do something, these guards didn’t seem like the type to mess around. They meant every word they were saying, and when it comes down to it, like everyone else, he was certain that Cheryl would much rather be a fugitive than be executed for the crime of killing her own mother. Problem was, Jack had no weapons at hand, and therefore no match for these brutes.

He thought quickly for answers, something clever that might distract them and allow her to escape, but almost every thought he had came to nothing. Even if Cheryl did get away, he himself would have ended up being cornered in that smelly, smelly tavern. He was just about to give up when, as fate would have it, futuristic Earth technology stepped up in the form of Mc Hammer -

As 'U Can’t Touch This' suddenly belted out at full volume, Jack moved into unmissable view of the guards with the phone raised above his head, miming the words as his feet began moving over the floorboards in an awkward rapping beat to the music. The sight of the luminous screen of the phone, the watch, the unusual clothing, and Jack moving across the floor in dance, made Sancho step back in sudden dismay, causing him to stumbled and fall down the small flight of stairs to the street beyond. The guards in blue in waiting on the street also began to back-step in horror. The Patrons left in the tavern scrambled to take cover beneath their tables, and the poor old bartender had finally had enough and passed out with a thump to the floor.

It was then when everyone around was, in one way or another, suspended in a state of shock, that Jack took a moment out from his fanciful exhibition to yell at the girl and her pet… lizard.

“Run! Now!”

Ex Nihilo

Jack spat his mouthful of mead all over the counter –

“WHAT THE FUCK!”

His voice yelled out loud like someone who had just badly stumped their toe. He slammed his bottle down on the counter. The tavern went through another moment of silence as everyone turned to gape at Jack, while one person across the room yelled out:

“How does it feel to be assaulted by a flaming dragon, friend?” Some others in the room sounded with a mocking, though awkward, even fearful laugh.

“Shut the fuck up!” Jack snapped back at the person that had commented. In an instant, despite the shock of what had just happened, he in that moment felt angered by the outside comment. “Mind your own fucking business and stop being a bunch of insecure assholes!” At that, the total of three patrons knocked over their chairs as they made a run for the door to escape any possible ensuing trouble, while everyone else gaped like dead fish at Jack before they quickly returned to their own business, or at least they pretended to.

The telepathic link from the creature had done more than just send a message, it had triggered something in Jacks mind and body. He was suddenly filled with fury and an unprecedented sense of power, and yet at the same time he felt completely in control of the rage. The unfamiliar power, however, had him suspended in trepidation as he turned his glare back to the creature and the girl.

His lips moved for a while like he wanted to respond, but no words came out as he tried to fathom exactly what he was feeling. Besides the inducement of rage and unknown power, he felt violated, like his person had been penetrated without permission. Had his mind just been raped? Or was that even the issue at all? His emotions and mind were in turmoil.

Eventually a cold chill ran his flesh. Goosebumps stood tall on the skin of his arms. The skin of his face prickled like a ghost had passed through him and the flames of a nearby hearth turned blue and leaped wildly towards the ceiling. Jack’s mead froze solid while the glass of the mead bottle, no longer in the grip of his hand, cracked open. In seeing that, a few more patrons ran out of the tavern in fear. But then, as the door thudded shut in their absence, Jack became calm. Somehow subdued by an unrecognizable influence, all the things he had been feeling fled from his person while the flames of the hearth simultaneously reduced, returning to their usual orange hue. Everything was still, and finally, Jack found the ability to speak again.

“…what did you do…?”

As he finished speaking, the phone in his pocket alerted him of incoming message.

Ex Nihilo

For some reason Jack couldn’t help but chuckle, though the laugh was very slight and probably unseen, perhaps the only amusement to be noticed was a smirk on his face that matched her own in sized. Really, that wasn't the response Jack had expected from her, but then, he didn't really know what to expect. He felt a sense of satisfaction though, which was a start. She could have reacted worse, much, but he actually got a smirk out of her. Yay? Regardless, he couldn't think of anything further to say on the matter of the poor old bartender. That may have been because his prior words to the bartender were just a modality, but it was more likely that Jack's mind was now distracted by another matter, or let’s call it a fascination, as it were.

It occurred to him that the girl hadn't been talking to herself at all. Based on the responsive body language of the creature on her shoulder, she was actually talking to... it. It just didn't seem to be talking back. Or was it? Thing is, this entire world was new to him, there was no real telling the capabilities of the people who lived here or the creatures that lived alongside them. For all he knew these two individuals had some sort of spiritual connection. Maybe the snarling little vermin was her animal guide. American Indian’s had similar practices going on. And besides, it was more than just the creatures reactions to her speech, the glint in its eyes portrayed an acuity that far surpassed the glint he had seen in any other animal responding to its master. It was uncanny.

Based on this hunch, and in the hopes that doing so wouldn’t undo the small amount of progress he made thus far, he decided to shift his attention and directed his following words to the creature.

“And how about you, little guy, having a better day than your friend here?” He asked it, with a charismatic rise of one brow.

In truth, Jack didn’t actually expect the creature to talk back, but in all his years of meeting people with pets, and even children, there was hardly a better way to win further favour of the parent or master than paying their cherished loved one some caring attention.

Inwardly happy with his smart thinking, he quickly took up his mead in one hand, pausing with the intent to take another sip, and directed an additional comment to the girl in an empathetic tone:

“Yeah, I can relate. Believe me, this day has been… well, out of this world.”

Ex Nihilo

Travius made a curios offer… “come to me if you require a weapon.” A blacksmith, and no doubt dealing in swords and the like, items that were obviously essential in this world. Not a good sign, but helpful. It’s now more than probably that getting myself a weapon would be a good idea. If only I had been in possession of my gun instead of my stupid phone when I was taken. No such luck…. But one thing’s for sure, I’m really going to need a weapon of some sort if I’m going to be in this place for a while. I guess I’ll be paying Travius another visit in the morning. But fuck, what the hell am I going to use for money? My watch? Hey, it was expensive, it’s made of gold, no doubt people here thought as much of gold as anywhere else on Earth… wait, this isn’t Earth, but still…. My items had enough of an effect on these people to find me wary, so maybe there is some trading value in that…. I don’t know, I don’t even know what’s going on.

All I know right now is that my Hannah might be here, my baby…. But could she be? Had I actually been taken to the same place she had been abducted to? I mean… what are the chances of arriving in a place like this at all, let alone being the same place she had been taken to? But then… maybe that actually makes sense, maybe what took her took me too, in which case it would actually make sense that we ended up in the same damn place… right, Jack? After all, I was literally standing just feet away from the spot she had been taken from, one year to the day, when I too was taken. Not so much a coincidence when I look at it like that. No… yeah… I can feel it in my bones. She’s here alright. Somewhere. But where? When? The more appropriate question; When would she have arrived? It could have been years ago. There isn’t anything to say that she would have arrived here the same time I did. Maybe time is synchronized somehow. I’m no quantum scientist, but hell, maybe a year to me back home was a year here too. That would mean she arrived a year ago. Maybe… just maybe… but there is no way to tell for sure. All I know is I have to find her. But what if she is all grown up now? What if she’s been stolen and abused for years? No – don’t think that, you can’t think like that, God help any man that lays a finger on her – but if she’s settled down, gotten married to some stinky medieval bastard around here…. What if she doesn’t even remember me? Her father. Her daddy. Hey… thing is… Would I actually even know her if I saw her?

Jack’s thoughts were interrupted. Not by noise or direct interference, but by the crowded Inn suddenly falling silent. His eyes took the door as once again the locals found reason to quietly scrutinize a young lady who had entered.

Maybe that’s Hannah? Similar coloured hair, hair change over the years. But no. Those sharp eyes, not like my daughter at all, and what the hell was that thing on her shoulder? Some sort of freaky rodent? Is that what passed as a cat in this world? What the...

As it turns out, falling silent like a bunch of stunned mullets and staring at people wasn't such an uncommon practice for these paranoid folk. This girl, notably a few years younger than Jack, seemed to have the same effect on them as he had, which was strange... interesting though. Since her general attire and overall appearance didn’t seem too estranged from what others were wearing – not like she looked like she stepped out of a portal from another planet or anything – so there must have been other reasons for the majority of these people to find her worth gaping in fear at.

He watched with speculatively as the woman and her weird-ass rodent made way to the bar and took a seat - which was when it happened, the one thing Jack needed to hear to open a window of opportunity: She raised her voice defiantly at her onlookers:

'I know I'm nice to look at but there's nothing happening here. Why don't you all go back to whatever you were doing before?'

Jack chuckled, he liked her already, if for no other reason than her audacity in the face of prejudice. This girl wasn’t frightened. She had something over them. But what? It's not like she was of intimidating size, either. Maybe that feathery rat on her shoulder had something to do with it? Whatever it was, it scared the hell out them, but she handled her obvious status with style. If there was anyone there, anyone at all he could possible approach for answers, it would be her. Nothing better than approaching another misfit for information, and judging by her remark to the crowd, she would likely make a note of being brutally honest. An admirable quality in Jack's eyes. One things was apparent, however; fear wouldn’t influence her reaction to Jack.

He watched her for a while. Form his position near the door, he could see that she paid the old bartender with what looked like coin. Good, that meant they had a form of currency. Unfortunate for Jack, he had none of what they used. The same recurring problem…. He wondered how easy it would be to rob some helpless lowlife in this world and get away with. God knows he had a talent for theft in the real world, his world. But that was a different matter. But wait, was he mistaken or did he just see this girl talking to herself? Maybe she was crazy, not right in the head, so to speak. Maybe that is why the others feared her. Leave the crazy lady and her rodent alone.

Nevertheless, Jack waited a while longer before rising from his chair, since he didn’t want to cause any possible suspicion by approaching her too soon. While he waited, he fished through the pockets of his jeans and found a few coins from back home. An Australian two dollar coin, two twenty cent pieces, and a fifty cent piece. He only just then realised his wallet was also in his back pocket. He didn’t bother to check, but he was sure he had a couple of fifty dollar bills in there. Now, he knew of course his own money would likely not be recognised as currency here, but maybe there was a way to swindle a deal with the old and frightened bartender. After all, Jack could have really done with a stiff drink as well, and this water wasn’t even worthy a look at. Maybe they had a beer. In a bottle. Maybe.

It must have been a good five minutes before he got up, his jug of water still untouched. Yep, once again many in the tavern grew silent to watch him walk to the bar, but it wasn’t as bad as their previous reaction to him, they must have been losing interest to some degree, or maybe after observing the girl and her rodent, Jack kinda paled in comparison.

One can hope.

The others patrons at the bar had made a wide birth around the girl and her rodent, which made it easy for Jack to walk up close to her without rousing suspicion of being deliberate about it. Besides, if she lived in this town and had any fashion sense at all, she would likely see that he wasn’t from around here, and therefore she should have no reason to feel like something threatening was taking place. He’d likely just appear as an out-of-towner walking to the bar for a drink.

Of course, he didn’t say anything to her at first, his attention mostly on the withered old man behind the counter, but he did take a moment to steal a closer inspection of the animal on her shoulder.

I don’t think that’s a rat. Good lord, I have no idea what that is. It has friggen wings though, so that’s new. And thank all things merciful, this lady didn’t seem to smell like the majority of the people around here. Yeah, she smelled too, but it wasn’t so potent as the majority of body odour around this place.

The bar tender was there to meet Jack, wide eyes of feared anticipation again.

“Was the water to your liking, sir?” He almost stammered, then froze in preparation for the worst possible response from Jack.

“You know.” Jack told him with a smirk, not raising his voice at all, and hopefully, secretly, attempting to gain the girls attention, maybe even impress her with his wit. Maybe that would help with her acceptance of him somehow. “If you expect the worst, the worst will likely happen. Looks like you’re about to suffer from heart failure or something, so relax, old man. But no, you’re out of luck, the water was hardly worth looking at, no less drinking. You got something in a bottle? Something sealed? Something actually clean enough to drink?” With that, Jack slid a fifty sent piece across the bar for old man to take as he perched himself on the stool right next to the woman and her winged rat. “How about a beer? A bottle of Merlot? Mead? Rum, perhaps?

The old man wasn’t set at ease by Jack’s witty candour, he just stared dumbfounded until Jack mentioned the words Mead and Rum, at which he nodded sharply, saying;

"Rum or mead, yes, we have that. Which would you prefer?”

His eyes then went to the coin on the counter, to Jack, to the coin, then back at Jack again. He seemed even more petrified now, apparently unwilling to be confrontational about the type of money Jack was offering him. Finally making a decision on what to do, the man swiftly grabbed the coin and shoved it in his trouser pocket, almost like he was trying to prevent anyone else from seeing it. Too late of course, anyone nearby, including the girl next to them, would have probably seen the unusual currency sitting there before he snatched it up.

“Hmm…” Jack replied. “Maybe a bit of both, a bottle of mead, and a few mouthfuls of rum. Thanks.”

The bartender placed the corked bottle of mead in front of him then poured a cup of rum. After serving Jack with a shaking hand was done, he gave another nod and promptly walked away to tend to other matters.

Jack rested with his elbows on the counter, sunk back the rum quickly to help settle his own nerves in anticipation for making contact with the girl. He had to be cool about this. Collective. He released a sigh of satisfaction, since the rum actually wasn’t all that bad. Seemed clean enough anyway. Then he popped the cork from his bottle of mead before turning his head to look at the girl. He was about to speak, but then hesitated when he saw the look on her face. Jack had been around the block many times, and it didn’t matter what world a person was from, he could tell when someone was troubled by something.

He rethought his words, cleared his throat, took a swig of the sweet mead, and then finally asked her casually, softly; “You alright there, mam?” That said, and despite his genuine sounding sentiments, he made a note of keeping his gold Rolex watch within view for her to see. If nothing else, maybe it alone could act as a lure, something to make her more willing to interact. She likely wouldn't have known what a watch was, but hey, it should have been interesting to her at the very least. Again …one can only hope.

Ex Nihilo

Jack

Human

Male

30 years

1.8 meters (6'2")

Origin: Earth, 21st century.

Occupation: Career Criminal.

Jack’s a tad odd, personality-wise, while his appearance is more than acceptable by 21st century society standards. Far too appealing for his own taste. His hair, dark brown with natural rustic highlights, is on the short side, but long enough to get a mean grip on with your fist if it ever came to that. His translucent blue eyes hold a natural slightly narrowed stare, while his cheekbones, like the rest of his features, are strong, solid, but not sharp at all. To Jack, his good looks are a curse, not a blessing. One reason for this is that he doesn’t like drawing attention to himself, which is reflected in the way he maintains his appearance, such as his tendency to wear clothing on the dark and dull side. Bright clothing is one of the many things he detests, another is being looked at, by anyone, and another is the grubby feeling of having lengthy facial hair - and yet he is never actually clean-shaven. Overall, he prefers an unkempt look, which, on account of his regrettable good looks, results in a rugged yet approachable appearance, an appearance defected by a subtle and undefined shiftiness in his demeanour.

Odd: Differing in nature from what is ordinary. The literal meaning of the word is the best way to generalise Jack’s personality, his views, his likes, his distastes and interests. And it’s not that the influences in life growing up made him that way. He was always like that. Even school, a place where most kids take their first big dose of social interaction, was for Jack a place of solitude and reflection. He spent those days in the least conspicuous spots possible; the darkest corners during class, the least observed places on the playground during lunch, most of such times spent thinking on how much he hated it there, how idiotic and unappealing the rest of the student body and their activities were, how to escape that place in the most efficient way possible, and all the while plotting the best way to kill his stepdad. It didn’t take too long to accomplish the latter two in one effort - two birds with one stone, so to speak - when at the age of ten he did kill his stepdad, resulting in being sent to juvenile detention until he was eighteen. There were those that suggested, despite being murder, that he shouldn’t have been sentenced to spend the remainder of his childhood incarcerated, but apparently the particularly heinous and abundantly clear premeditated nature of the act called for a more severe penalty than what was deemed normal for a pre-adolescent.

Life in juvenile detention was good for Jack, it taught him a lot, like how to become a career criminal. He came out knowing exactly what he wanted to do with his life, and had the connections to make it happen. The first two years of freedom were spent doing jobs for a guy nicknamed Johnny Big, real name unknown, the head of the largest organised crime family in the city of Sydney. Johnny Big also had a sister by the name Jezibel Small - also not her real name - who took an automatic shining to Jack and had his kid within the year of his release. Jezibel named the kid Hannah and took some time out from the life of crime to raise the girl in a more civilised manner than the underground world of crime could provide, only to be killed during a home invasion when Hannah was two years old. It was only then, when Jezibel was killed, that Jack learned that Hannah was actually his own daughter. He wasn’t entirely happy about it, and neither was Johnny Big, who nevertheless let Jack live because, in his own words: “Even though you knocked up my only sister, you’ve always been my best bastard. So I’m letting you go. You’re out. I won’t support you anymore. But you will take the kid. You will raise her. And you will raise her to be the best damn woman this world has seen – but let it be known, if she ever comes to harm while under your care I will fuck you up so bad you won’t ever again remember your own name.”

With Johnny Big’s blessings, Jack was on his own and in a house of his own, in the suburbs, with all expenses paid, and with a daughter whom he quickly grew to love. All of this was not to suggest that Johnny Big forbade Jack from ever taking part in that line of work again. To the contrary, actually. Johnny knew Jack was going to need an income, but Johnny also knew that Jack could do without the constraints of being tied in with the family. He needed freedom, to do things the way he wanted, needed, in order to at the same time raise Hannah the best he could. This to Jack meant the only thing it could mean: freelance crime. And thanks to Johnny and his connection, not to mention Johnny’s willingness to cooperate for the sake of his niece, Jack once again had all he needed to make it happen.

Within a few short years, Jack became the most renowned and reliable freelance mercenary known to the underground, and life was simple for him. He dated no women, and rarely felt the need to, outside of an occasional one night stand for the sake of his primal urges. He had no close friends, outside of the few people he knew from his life of crime, so he never really had many visitors. He kept to himself, as always, and at the times he was out working he hired a babysitter for Hannah. Surprisingly enough, he found being a father rather easy, but he wasn’t at all sure his definition of parenting was all that standard. But then again, he didn’t really care about ordinary standards.

When Hannah was three or four, Jack started home schooling her, occasionally bringing in a tutor for the things he wasn’t really up on, which, as it turned out, was more often than he had expected. But overall, Hannah was healthy, very smart, being raised so well that Johnny Big would swell with pride when he dropped by to visit once a month like clockwork. More or less.

Ex Nihilo

---

ℑ𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔯. 𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢, 𝔬𝔯 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰… 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔢𝔵𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫 𝔢𝔵𝔠𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫.

---

“Teh Esselone par entin lesky – upton orski par insun!”

There is little to describe how Jack was feeling in that moment. What seemed like just minutes earlier, he was standing next to his backyard pool back home, in the 21st century, Earth, mourning the yearlong memory of his daughters’ loss. Next thing he knew he was naked and being chased by some four-legged vulture-like creature through the brush of an unfamiliar forest. He could have sworn the beast was just about to latch onto his neck when he found myself mid-air, falling fast, then landed in a river, swept away by the rapids, and ended up getting washed ashore next to some… uh… a medieval village? But that wasn’t even the weirdest part of the previous few minutes of Jack’s existence because, while he stood there in the night, observing the outskirt structures of the town, his blue eyes were drawn to the three large moons suspended amid the stars above.

No… this was just a dream, it must have been. The most bizarre, lucid and scariest damn dream he’d ever experienced, but a dream no less. Alas, this dream wasn’t about to end.

As he ventured farther, creeping in the shadows as best he could, making way around a log cabin to assess what must have been the main street of town, a young girl – for the love of god, why it had to be a child – caught sight of his exposure when he tripped on a fallen branch. Needless to mention, it took all of a second for her screams to draw the attention of other townsfolk.

Jack was back to my feet quickly, covering his manhood with both hands while somehow managing to find the audacity to lay silent awed judgement on the people that had stopped their activities to glare at him with looks that, to his surprise, didn’t kill him. Had it not been established yet, now it was; just by the clothes these people wore, there was no doubt he had entered a place far detached from his own time and world. For an instant, just for an instant, he imagined laying sight on a dragon ascending with roars from the sky. Of course this imaginative thought, which would later turn out to be more a premonition, was broken by the large stranger who seemingly came out of nowhere, making himself known to Jack by the cold steel of his swords pressed firmly against his neck.

For fear of having his throat slit open, or possibly dying of asphyxiation from the potent stench of the man’s body odour, Jack could but turn his eyes to him - Oh wow, he looked like Grizzly Adams – And, if things could not have gotten any weirder, the stinky brute opened his mouth to speak the aforementioned words:

“Teh Esselone par entin lesky – upton orski par insun!”

Despite the fear of losing his life, Jack would have likely replied with a smart remark about the stranger being polite enough to take a bath before sneaking up on a naked man, but he never got the chance. At the ending of the strangers statement, a sharp pain struck – it shorted like electricity through Jack’s ears, his throat, and stuck like a knife at his frontal lobe like he was undergoing a lobotomy. With it, a high pitched shriek could be heard, like that of a dogs whistle before, a moment later, the strangers gibberish words were repeated like an echo of English in Jack’s mind.

He had said; “Have you lost your mind, man? - I should have your head!”

“N-n-no-no….” Jack found himself stammering for the first time in his life, and although he was speaking English, it felt strangely like he was speaking the man’s own language as well. “Steady there, big man, I don’t want any trouble. I actually don’t know how I got here. But I would really appreciate it if you had some clothes I could wear….”

The large stranger, or, well, let us just call him Mr. Adams for now, curled his upper lip, squinting one eye in familiarising thought as the cold steel of his blade removed from Jack’s neck. He lowered the weapon, letting the tip of blade ride to a stop in the dirt of the road before he replied:

“I see. Too much drink today, stranger? Mr. Adams chuckled, and added; “Never be that of mind. Still, if you wish for a whore, the Blackgale Inn across the street should meet your needs of fine lady types. No need to run about naked like a perverted type, from where do you co – ”

His words were cut short by a peculiar turn of events, and Jack was just as taken aback by what happened as Mr. Adams was: The black denim jeans Jack had been wearing before his arrival in this current world appeared on his person again. Just like that, no sound, no flash of light. Nothing. They were just there, covering his nakedness once again, held up by a crocodile leather belt.

Jack dropped his eyes, wide with wonder, before looking back at Mr. Adams with an unknowing shake of his head. The big brute glared back with an equal amount of question. Yet, despite this miraculous turn of events, he found the wisdom not to get overly distraught;

“What sort of magic is this?”

Jack shook his head in response, utterly lost on how to explain myself, at the same time concerned by the content of the question. Magic? What? Mr. Adams had mentioned the word like it was more or less as common as sliced bread, which, to be fair, may or may not have also been a thing in this world.

“I uh… I’m not really sure what to sa….” Jack began replying, only to be silenced by the appearance of brown Goodyear Welt Boots on his feet. A grey, sleeveless t-shirt materialised on his upper body. An android cell phone appearing in his left hand. A gold Rolex analogue watch appeared on his wrist. Then, as the phone announced a recently received text, Jack rolled his eyes back to the man, the man who was now portraying a look of intense trepidation.

Mr. Adams and Jack locked stares for a moment, while many of the nearby onlookers released a gasp of dismay.

“Please,” Jack said, “before you get any more ideas about cutting off my head, I really don’t know where I am. I have no idea what’s going on right now. I need your help. Please…. Where the hell am I?” His voice began to shake with honest intent.

Grizzly Adams gaped for quite some time before responding, and when he did at last peak, Jack was somewhat appreciative of his surprising amount of understanding.

“Listen, Friend.” He told Jack straight. “I don’t know who you are or where you are from. But I have never seen magic like this…. For the sake of all of us here, I hope you intend us no harm.”

“I assure you. My friend.” Jack was quick to reply in the calmest voice he could muster. “I mean you no harm, you or your people. I can promise you that.”

Mr. Adams returned his sword to the sheath on his back, seemingly defeated as someone putting away a stick while being confronted by a mammoth. His eyes denoted the same sentiment.

“What is your name?” Jack added, attempting to ride the upper hand he now found himself with.

“You may call me Travius.” The big man declared with a forced sense of pride. “I am the local blacksmith. Take respite in our town, of course. We of Sonarlis wish for only peace. You may come to my workshop to acquire weapons in the morning if you wish. Outside of that, please stay clear of my kin. I however wish for no further kinship with the likes of your own kind.”

Despite the circumstances, Jack suddenly felt ill with disappointment at the sounding of Travius' words. He had been in this strange and far detached world for less than five minutes and already he was despised by the first person he met.

“It’s okay,’ Jack nodded firmly to say. “I meant what I said, I mean no harm – but thank you for the offer. Pleased to meet you, Travius. My name is Jack.”

Travius responded with nothing more than his own firm nod, and as Jack extended his right hand, all Travius did was take a cautious step in retreat. Jack lowered his hand and watched Travius walk away before he looked around at the other bystanders, most of them still intent on staring at Jack, analysing his odd clothing, his cell phone, his watch, murmuring among themselves.

---

Rumours of Jack’s arrival had spread as quickly as fire in dry brush. By time he entered the local tavern, otherwise knows and Blackgale Inn, there wasn’t one eye in the entire establishment that didn’t lock onto him. Every mouth became deathly silent. After refraining from the initial impulse to vomit from the stench of body odour, urine and stale alcohol, He dropped his eyes demurely, feeling it a prudent course of action not to make eye contact with the many faces peering at him. The sound his boots made on the floorboards, however, was awkwardly loud, being the only sound to be heard as he made his way to the bar. There, he raised his attention to the bartender; a scrawny looking pop-eyed elderly gentleman with a fear-induced grin straddling his face.

Jack gave the man a small smile, yet since he had no idea what these people used for currency he attempted a request that would avoided payment of any kind: “Name’s Jack." He said. "All I want is a drink of water. A table to sit at. That’s all. Thank you.”

The feeble old man’s lips were trembling as his eyes made their way over Jack’s clothing, his watch, his cell phone, still gripped in Jack's left hand. Eventually the bartender found words to reply:

“Take it.” He produced a clay jug of water with a wooden mug, placing them on the dark wooden timber of the bar. “Take any seat you wish for. Just please… with respect, try not to bring about any trouble in my establishment.”

After sliding the phone into his pocket, Jack took up the jug in one hand, the wooden cup in the other, and made his way through the still silenced and watchful group of drunks, whores, diners, even a few children, until he arrived at a small empty table with two chairs near the door. Nothing like preparing for a quick exit…. Taking his seat at the table, he kept his eyes to himself, poured a cup of water, sighed, but held off on actually taking a drink.

“Might be safer to drink my own piss….” He mumbled, staring dismally at the murky water in his cup while the ambient voices of those in the tavern started up again, and the tavern musician started playing a peculiar, questionably cheerful tune on an unfamiliar stringed instrument.