They soon reached the wall—its full height now towering above them. Massive stone blocks stacked with precision, worn by time but still sturdy, loomed high into the night sky. Torches flickered along its ramparts, and the faint silhouettes of guards paced above. The wall stretched endlessly in both directions, a fortress wrapped around the city like a stone leviathan.
Jordan stood slack-jawed, his eyes wide as he took it all in.
"Why is your mouth open like that?" Sir Cedric asked dryly, appearing beside him.
Jordan flinched. He'd forgotten the older man was still walking next to him—so lost he was in the sheer scale of Emberfall's defenses.
"I—uh… I've just never seen a wall that tall before," Jordan muttered, straightening his posture and quickly averting his gaze.
Cedric smirked. "You'll get used to it. Emberfall tends to do that—make the world outside feel small."
The convoy slowed as they approached the gates, heavy wooden structures reinforced with steel, flanked by stationed guards who held long spears and stern expressions. One of them stepped forward, recognizing Cedric immediately and offering a crisp salute.
"Captain Cedric. We've been expecting you."
Jordan raised an eyebrow slightly at the title. He'd only known him as Sir Cedric until now.
"Open the gates," Cedric ordered. "We have a guest and tired men."
As the gates groaned open, Jordan glanced back once more at the road behind them. Darkness swallowed the path quickly. For better or worse, he knew there was no turning back.
-------
Elysia sat quietly at her father's bedside, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across the Duke's private chamber. Though his wounds had been treated, and his strength had returned in small portions, the memory of the assassination attempt still clung to the room like a lingering storm.
She reached over and adjusted the blanket around his chest. The Duke had fallen into a light doze, his breathing steady but shallow. Despite everything, he refused to leave Emberfall — refused to appear weak.
A soft knock at the door interrupted the stillness.
She turned. "Enter."
A young guard stepped in, armor clinking softly. "My lady, Captain Cedric has returned. He brings someone with him—the outsider from the forest. The one who saved you."
Elysia's breath caught for a moment. "Jordan?"
"Yes, my lady. He's just passed through the gates."
She stood, her eyes narrowing slightly with thought. It had been only two days, yet something about that name stirred a quiet ripple beneath the surface of her composure. The boy with the strange knife. The one who bled for her without hesitation.
"I'll meet him," she said, already crossing the room. She paused at the doorway, glancing back at her father.
The Duke stirred but didn't wake. Her fingers brushed the hilt of her sword—habit now—and with a determined breath, she stepped out into the corridor, her boots echoing on the stone.
She didn't know what she expected to feel seeing Jordan again. But something in her chest whether gratitude, curiosity, or suspicion ,demanded she face him.
Absolutely — here's the corrected and refined version, maintaining continuity and character consistency. Jordan isn't ravenously hungry, but he notices the food is much better than what he's been able to make for himself. Everything else remains in line with your established story.
---
The Duke's Private Chambers – Emberfall
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its glow casting long shadows across the stone walls. Elysia sat beside her father's bed, her hand gently resting over his. His breathing had steadied, and while he still hadn't spoken, he had stirred earlier—just briefly. His fingers had twitched, his lips parted as if to speak before sleep reclaimed him.
She hadn't left his side since.
A knock sounded against the door.
She turned, rising quickly. An attendant waited in the hall, his head bowed slightly.
"My lady," he said, "Sir Cedric has returned—with the boy. Jordan."
Her breath caught. "Where is he?"
"The main hall. Just arrived."
She nodded, cast one last look at her father, then swept out of the She had taken up training the day after the carriage ambush. It hadn't been a question. She refused to feel helpless again.
She found them just inside the main hall—Jordan standing tall beneath the glow of hanging torches. He looked… different. His posture had changed, more certain, more solid. His clothes clung slightly to a newly-toned frame, muscles clearly shaped by something harsher than any workout Emberfall could offer. His hair was longer too, falling in wild waves that nearly touched his shoulders.
She blinked, unsure if she was seeing correctly.
"Jordan," she said aloud.
He turned quickly, then smiled. "Lady Elysia."
She stepped closer, eyeing him with faint surprise. "You've changed."
"I've been through a few things," he replied, offering a casual shrug. "Guess the forest makes you grow up fast."
Sir Cedric chuckled as he stepped beside them. "He doesn't even look like the same boy."
Elysia turned to the knight. "My father… he woke up earlier. Briefly."
Cedric's smile faded into something softer. "That's good news."
"Only for a moment, but he opened his eyes." She looked down for a beat. "I don't think he saw me clearly, but… it gives me hope."
The knight placed a gentle hand on her shoulder before stepping back. "Come. Let's get our friend here a proper meal."
---
Mess Hall – Emberfall
The room was warm, lit by the low flicker of lanterns and firelight. The long table was already set when they arrived—roasted duck, seasoned vegetables, fresh-cut bread, and a savory stew that steamed gently in its bowl.
Jordan sat and looked down at the spread. He wasn't starving—he'd managed well enough with what little he could hunt or scavenge. But this? This was real food. Carefully prepared, seasoned, and served hot. It made his own fire-cooked fanged ribs seem laughable.
"Don't just stare at it," Cedric said as he sat across from him. "Eat."
Jordan gave a half-smile and picked up his fork.
He took his time. Each bite was measured, thoughtful. Not because he was savoring the flavor—but because it reminded him just how far removed he'd been from civilization. From warmth. From comfort.
Elysia sat across from him as well, arms folded, observing him between sips of tea.
Eventually, she leaned forward. "So? What happened out there?"
Jordan leaned back, wiping his hands with the cloth provided. "I got turned around a few times. Fought some monsters. Lost my shelter. That's when I remembered Cedric's badge—and the map."
"That all?" she asked.
He met her gaze, then gave a half-shrug. "Most of it."
He left out the kobold. The strange way his wounds from the talking creature had scarred instead of healing clean. The dagger's eerie warmth. And of course, the fact that he wasn't even from this world.
Cedric raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He recognized the vagueness. But he also knew better than to push—at least, not tonight.
Jordan pushed his plate back gently. "Thanks for this. It's better than anything I've had in a while."
Elysia gave a faint nod. "You've earned it."
As she stood, she glanced at him again—really looked at him.
And for the first time, she wasn't seeing the lost boy from the woods.
She was seeing something else.
Something forming.
Something becoming.
"Rest," she said, her voice quieter now. "You'll need it."
And with that, she turned and left, her sword tapping softly at her side as she walked into the corridor's darkness.
Jordan leaned back in his seat, staring into the firelight.
He was in Emberfall now.
And things were only just beginning.
------
Jordan stood in front of the mirror in the room he'd been given. Morning light filtered in through the tall windows, casting warm slivers of gold across the stone walls. The bed behind him, now slightly rumpled, had provided the best sleep he'd had in weeks.
But none of that held his attention now.
He tilted his head, eyeing the reflection with narrowed eyes.
"Wow… I do look different," he muttered, running a hand slowly over his toned stomach. "My hair's longer… and I'm definitely more fit than I was before I ended up in this world."
He leaned in closer. The faint stubble on his jaw, the wild growth of hair curling just above his shoulders—it all felt off.
"I look kinda homeless," he frowned. "Yeah… this won't do."
Back home, he kept himself neat. Sharp fades, clean-shaven, well-groomed. But the forest hadn't offered any mirrors, and definitely no barbers. Now that he was safe, back in civilization, the disheveled look sat wrong with him—like he was still clinging to survival mode.
He turned from the mirror and moved to the window. Emberfall unfolded beneath him.
Last night, the city had looked alive with torchlight and movement. Even that brief glimpse had impressed him—brick and black stone buildings stretching down well-planned streets, shops with strange floating books, armor displays that shimmered, and clothing stores with silks he hadn't seen in either world.
And that was just the surface.
Sir Cedric had been adamant about heading straight to the Duke's Manor. Jordan hadn't explored nearly as much as he wanted to. But from here, high up in the manor's guest quarters, he could finally see how massive Emberfall truly was.
What caught his eye the most was the building at its heart—a towering structure, its roof spiked like spears reaching into the clouds. It stood like a sentinel over the city, and even from here, it was clear it wasn't just tall—it was important.
Below, soldiers emerged from the barracks. The facility itself looked like a small village nestled just outside the manor's grounds. He watched as the morning guard swapped places with the ones who'd stood vigil through the night.
A knock broke his focus.
"Knock, knock," came a soft voice, followed by two gentle taps on the door.
Jordan turned and opened it.
A young maid stood on the other side, her polite smile faltering slightly as her eyes widened, momentarily frozen.
Jordan blinked. "What?"
She coughed lightly, snapping her eyes back up to his. "Ah—sorry, sir. Miss Elysia asked me to let you know… breakfast is ready."
Only then did Jordan realize he was still shirtless.
He raised a brow, half amused, half annoyed with himself. "Right. Uh… thanks. I'll be down in a minute."
The maid gave a stiff nod and all but spun on her heel, disappearing down the hall.
Jordan closed the door and sighed.
"Yeah," he muttered to himself. "Definitely need to clean up."
---
Jordan made his way down the stairs, tugging at the clothes Sir Cedric had given yesterday. He'd nearly taken a wrong turn twice, but thankfully, the maid Elysia had sent earlier found him again and helped him navigate the manor's winding halls.
As he entered the dining hall, Elysia looked up from her seat at the long table.
"Oh, you've arrived," she said with a small smile.
"I hope your room was to your liking."
"It was. Thank you," Jordan replied with a nod.
His eyes swept across the room. Sir Cedric was already seated, looking as composed as ever. But next to him sat a man Jordan hadn't seen before—older, with a neatly trimmed beard and a quiet sharpness in his eyes. He wore a dark blue tunic clasped with a silver pin shaped like a hawk, and his presence commanded subtle attention.
Elysia gestured to the empty seat across from her.
"Please, sit. This is Lord Harwin—he serves on Emberfall's council and manages matters of trade and order within the city."
Lord Harwin inclined his head slightly. "A pleasure, Mr. Jordan. We've heard a little about you already."
Jordan gave a polite nod, unsure of what exactly they'd heard, but deciding not to ask. Instead, he sat down quietly, the scent of food finally registering.
As a few servants came by to serve the food, Elysia waited until they had stepped away before leaning forward slightly, her expression shifting to something more serious.
"One of our scouts reported seeing you fight… something," she began, her eyes steady on Jordan. "He said it was humanoid, fast, and unlike anything he's seen before. I wanted to hear it from you directly. What exactly happened out there?"
Jordan exhaled slowly, picking up a fork but not eating just yet.
"It was some kind of monster," he said, voice low. "Talked like a man but wasn't one. Tall, pale, claws like blades. Fast too. Smart. Nearly took me out, if I'm being honest."
Cedric raised an eyebrow slightly, but said nothing.
"I got lucky. That's all."
Elysia nodded thoughtfully, her gaze unreadable. She paused, as if weighing something carefully, then spoke again.
"You've already proven yourself capable," she said. "You saved my life in that forest, and clearly you've survived worse since then. I'd like to offer you a position—as my bodyguard."
Jordan blinked. "Your bodyguard?"
She nodded. "You'd be paid, of course. Given better lodging and resources. And more importantly… trusted." Her eyes met his. "As long as you're not some criminal, which I doubt considering everything you've done, I'm willing to put my faith in you."
Jordan looked down at the table, weighing her words. "I'm not a criminal," he said quietly. "Just… ended up in the wrong place at the right time."
"That much is clear," Elysia replied softly.
She glanced at his forearm where the edge of a faint mark peeked from under his sleeve. "I also meant to ask earlier—those tattoos. Are they tribal? Or do they serve a purpose?"
Jordan hesitated, then sighed. "They weren't there when I got here. My dagger… it gave them to me, I think. After the first time I fought with it."
Elysia tilted her head slightly, intrigued. "So it's bound to you? Like a magical weapon?"
"I guess," he muttered. "I never asked it for anything. It just sort of… responded."
Cedric let out a quiet breath, arms crossed. "A bound weapon is no small thing. That's rare even among royal mages."
Elysia's eyes didn't waver from Jordan's. "Then it seems I was right to trust you."
Jordan finally took a bite of his food, the warmth of the meal grounding him slightly. For the first time since arriving in this world, things felt… almost normal. Or at least stable.
Almost.
"Mages?" Jordan asked, pausing mid-bite, his brows knitting together.
Elysia looked slightly surprised, then tilted her head. "Yes… those who can wield magic. You don't have them where you're from?"
Jordan shrugged. "We have stories. Legends. But nothing real."
Lord Harwin, who had been silent until now, chuckled lowly. "Then your homeland must be a quiet place. Or a dangerous one, depending on how you look at it."
Elysia offered a small smile and continued, "Mages are trained individuals who can channel magical energy through study, discipline, or—sometimes—innate ability. They're rare, but essential, especially in times like these."
Jordan leaned back slightly, absorbing that.
Sir Cedric nodded beside her. "We didn't have any with us the day of the attack. That's part of why things went south so fast. It wasn't just the ambush—it was the lack of magical support. Normally, a single skilled mage can turn the tide of a skirmish."
Jordan's eyes narrowed a little. "So… magic is common, but mages aren't?"
"Exactly," Elysia said. "Most people can't use it. And those who can usually need years of study to control it properly. Spells, incantations, channeling tools… It's complicated."
"But your dagger," Cedric added, nodding at Jordan, "it might not need all of that. If it's truly bound to you, then it's channeling its own power through you—or binding yours to it."
Jordan blinked. "So you're saying… I might be using magic?"
Lord Harwin leaned forward, folding his hands. "Intentionally or not, yes. And if that's the case, you'll need to learn control. Fast."
Jordan's fingers brushed the mark on his forearm unconsciously.
Elysia watched him closely. "Don't worry. If you accept my offer, we'll make sure you get what you need. You won't be alone in this."
Jordan didn't answer immediately. But a flicker of something passed over his face—gratitude, maybe. Or resolve.
He didn't fully understand this world yet. But it was starting to feel like he might have a place in it.
They soon finished eating .
"I'd like to show you around the manor, since you'll be staying awhile," Elysia offered, rising from her seat with a graceful ease.
Jordan blinked, slightly surprised but nodded. "Sure, that sounds... helpful."
Sir Cedric, who had remained mostly quiet through the last exchange, gave a small approving grunt. "Good idea. Might as well get him familiar with the place before he accidentally wanders into the armory or worse—the Duchess's garden."
Jordan gave him a sideways look. "Is that bad?"
Lord Harwin chuckled from his place near the window, arms folded across his chest. "You'd be surprised how territorial noble florists can be."
Elysia rolled her eyes but smirked all the same. "Ignore them. Come on."
She turned, motioning for Jordan to follow her as she led the way through a wide set of double doors at the side of the room. The hall beyond was tall and grand, lined with rich tapestries and narrow windows that spilled golden morning light across the polished stone floor.
As they walked, Jordan took everything in—the clean lines of the architecture, the way each hallway seemed to open into another stretch of beauty and history. Compared to the forest, it was another world.
"I still can't believe this place is just your home," he murmured.
"Well," Elysia said, glancing back at him, "it's been in my family for generations. And... it doesn't always feel like home. Not lately, at least."
Jordan noted the shift in her tone but didn't press. Instead, he looked around again and let the quiet between them settle for a moment.
She eventually stopped by a large wooden door. "This is the library. If you ever need a quiet place or want to read about the city's history—or monsters you might've fought—it's all in here."
Jordan looked at the door with a curious expression. "Might come in handy."
They moved on, Elysia pointing out training halls, meeting rooms, the kitchens, and even the inner courtyard where a few soldiers were drilling under the watchful eye of a younger knight.
By the time they reached a tall balcony that overlooked Emberfall's vast sprawl below, Jordan was leaning slightly against the stone railing, arms crossed.
"This city is huge," he said.
"It has to be," Elysia replied. "There are a lot of people relying on it. Relying on us."
Jordan nodded slowly. "I get that."
Then he turned to her with a small, unreadable look. "Thanks for showing me around. Helps… makes things feel a little less foreign."
"You're welcome." She gave him a genuine smile, one that lingered just a little longer than politeness demanded.
Sir Cedric's voice called from behind them, breaking the moment. "Don't go getting soft on him, Princess. He hasn't even accepted the job yet."
Elysia rolled her eyes again and turned back to Jordan. "Ignore him again."
Jordan chuckled. "I'm starting to get used to that."
They continued the tour, but something subtle had shifted. The gap between stranger and ally was growing smaller. And neither of them had quite noticed yet how naturally the pieces were beginning to fall into place.