"Granny!"
Jordan's body sprang forward, extended his limited reach. He choked on sobs as his fingers grasped on air.
His chest tightened and shook as the breath stilled in his lungs. Jordan couldnt understand what he saw. Was it really? Had he been killed for some twisted sacrifice for his grandfather's ambitions was his mother and greatgrandmother really gone and he would never seen them aga8n, even if he managed to find a permanent way back
Jordan's fingers pushed through the hair on his head. His fingers tangled into the tresses and he pulled. The pain was real. The stale air in his body was real. He was stuck and unable to go back. He had no recourse. Everything he truly treasured was taken from his.
"Fuck!" His new voice grew hoarse as he strained the chord of his throat. He screamed into his knees until he couldn't force any more air out. Then the dry heaves came. The drool pooled into the spares sheets that covered his body, but nothing else remained.
Nothing.I have nothing left. The initial curiosity of being in another world was gone and now it was replaced with the finality of it all.
His chest tightened again and his breathing caught in the base of his abdomen. This wasnt a dream. Whatever happened on earth no longer concerned him. He had to survive in this new reality on his own.
Jordan focused on his inhale and exhaled. Although his breath came through as shakes, he managed to build up the air in his lungs.
As his breathing fell into a familiar automatic rhythm, Jordan felt the intensity of his heartbeat recede from his ears. The ambient noises of what seemed to still be night floated through the errant air drift.
Along with it came the acrid strength of buring hair and flesh. An herbaceous mix of stewed bits, and the hushed whispers of people standing not too hidden from his view. It didint take long for the days events to catch back up to him. In the manner of minutes, every event during his slumber and his status within the camp was made clear.
"Did you you hear? That good for nothing brought the monster into camp!"
"If not for Di Featherblade, we'd have died!"
"I heard the other guards tell its a never before seen beast."
"But why had he not refunded the corpse yet?"
"Fools! Didnt you see the beast was already half dead that means-"
"Dare you call others a fool? As if a twink could fell a mighty beast! Sir Featherblade is taking his time. Refinement is a rare skill. You cant rush these things."
Jordan rubbed his head. As the whispered drowned on, his brain expanded. Words like Refinement and Swordmaster took a specialized meaning. His thoughts traveled back to the first human he'd seen. The strange multiuse weapon was suited for those that couldn't use natural aura to produce mana.
Be it due to his familiarity with games and fantasy books, the sudden onset of never explained knowledge didnt confuse him. The body he know occupied appartly already knew these things. Which begged the question- if humans are brains in a vat, and the brain comprises lived experiences, what was Jordan's soul and how was any of this possible?
The again, was that knowledge going to keep him alive? Jordsn shook his head. He needed strength, not the answers to metaphysics, that was for times of leisure.
Jordan stood up and quietly inched to the tents opening. The gossip was fractured but still filled with important details.
"You should have seen it." A shadow sprang back s forth waving its arms overhead. "It was like a dance! How any one could call him Leadfoot is beyond me."
"Calm down Denny. You'll tire yourself out. We still have quotas to reach." A gruff voice grumbled, but a hint if mirth could still be heard.
"It was the most beautiful thing. A miracle even. What a man, a legend."
"Oi, I think hes fell in love Brock. Reckn then fallen noble with take a like?"
A series of shuffles followed my more logjt hearted jabs.
"Sir Featherblade is not to be tripled with!"
"Yesh, yeah Denny we got it. But when you've one knight, you've seen em all. How fancy the sword is matters little if it never connects."
"Excuse me.."
The men paused. Jordan peeked out of the tent and looked around before settling his eyes on the small group. He smiled weakly. It didn't take a diplomat to see his presence wasnt welcomed, not that he took too kindly to bring called a twink, either.
"We'll look who's up from his beauty sleep? Did you rest well your highness?" An older man with a wooden pipe bit his words.
Jordan sighed, "I supposed a concussion will do that."
"Concus-you making up fancy words again?"
"Sounded like he said he's confused."
The man to the right was slim. His slicked back grey hair was the only indication of his age as his smooth face seemed incongruent to his bent back and gravely voice.
"Confused Oric! He's confused! Confused is the whole camp wondering where a night terror of that size came from. Confused is leading it to camp instead of dying on his own. Just wait til Lubbock gets wind of this. No more special treatment for him!"
Jordan mentally sized up the main three men in the huddle. Oric, of course, standing out. With his undamaged robes and calm demeanor, Jordan pegged him as a former priest. High enough that he could "oversee" the work of others and be counted as useful, but low enough on the pole that his infraction still got him sent on a doomed mission.
Then there was the disgruntled Brock. The older man was close to snapping his pipe piece in half with how thoroughly chewed through it was. This man resembled a woodsman by trade, and probably chose the mission because outside of life or limb, he had nothing to lose.
Then of course there was Denny. Dressed in simple clothing, he somehow made a tunic look provocative. With the collar stretched to hang down one shoulder and the tunic twist into itself to form a knot, the shirt clung to the young man's body similar to what Jordan would expect to see on a girls' night out back home.
Jordan raise his eyebrow. Despite the earlier jeering, it was apparent that effeminate men were not a source of ridicule as Denny's appear wasnt the topic, but his desire for a man that apparently had no interest.
Jordan tapped his chin. That wasnt a bad sign. If this world was a more progressive society, even without modern conveniences it couldn't be that bad.