Not switched on till I've had me mornin' cuppa

Following the most exhausting few days of my life, I slept soundly throughout my first night in the inn. So soundly, in fact, that I felt as if the recent events I had been through were all a dream.

That delusion was dashed, however, when I opened my eyes and saw my surroundings. A room with walls and floor of wood, and a thatched roof with no ceiling above my head. No plug sockets, wall-mounted-telly or technology otherwise to be seen. In fact, the room was quite barebones altogether. I slept on a reasonably comfortable bed at the back-centre of the room, and at my side was a small bedside table. Other than that, all that was in the room was a wardrobe and a handful of wooden shelves on the wall. Both were, of course, empty, what with the fact that I had no belongings to speak of.

Perhaps the initial shock and further exhaustion of the last couple of days had forced me to just accept things as they were, but now that time had passed and I had had time to rest and recuperate, it finally dawned on me just how absurd this situation was.

The last thing I can be certain of without question is that I was struck by lightning on my way to the shop, and lost consciousness almost immediately. From there, it seems there are two possibilities: I was killed by that lightning strike, and I currently reside in some purgatory world either conjured up by my mind or used to hold me until my judgement day, or I truly had somehow travelled to a parallel world.

The fact that I had no noticeable marks or even injuries from the lightning made me initially lean towards the first option. It would only make sense that a dead man’s body be repaired in the afterlife, or in his own mind in his dying moments.

But more and more I found myself believing the opposite. This world felt… viscerally real. Too real to possibly be no more than a mirage of my own mind. The sights, the sounds, the people, it all felt too much like reality. So as I sat in my bed in the inn, I found myself believing more and more that this was a true, real, honest to god parallel world. And it was now one that I was heavily involved in. The gravity of the situation had begun to set in.

Though, as I was contemplating this, my attention was quickly taken by a sudden rap on the bedroom door.

“Master Mckay? Myte I enter?” Came a voice I had come to know very recently. If my memory of the prior night’s events was correct, it had to be Eleanor.

“Uhh… yeah, go ahead.” It was only at her question I realised I had been so tired the night before I had gone to bed fully clothed. The handle of the door opened, and Eleanor the blacksmith slowly entered.

She was even more imposing than she had seemed the night before, despite the fact that she was in full light now instead of the ominous glow of molten metal. It was obvious at a glance she was taller than me, and her years of blacksmithing had left her body toned like a professional athlete. In short, I had no doubt she could kick my arse unarmed.

“I spake to Alice already þis morning, and she informed me furþer on youre identity,” Eleanor said softly, closing the door behind herself. “She sayd you claimest yourself to be an oþer worlder? A man summoned from a forren plane of existence, and by þe stryke of lytening, no less?”

“Y-yeah, that’s about the gist of it…” it sounded ridiculous even to me, and I’m the bloke it happened to. “Though I’m not sure if I’d say ‘summoned.’ Last thing I remember is gettin' struck by lightnin' in my world and suddenly wakin' up in this one. Nuffin so grandiose as a summons from God or nuffin'.”

She eyed me suspiciously at my response. I tacked on that last bit to make myself sound less like a complete nutter, but it seemed to have little effect. I couldn’t blame her. It’s common sense to judge the man spouting lunacy as a lunatic.

“Such cases haþ been known to occur, 'tis true. Only once or twyce a century, but it ys known to haþ happened,” she said. “However, I cannot help but marvel at þe apparent coincidence þat you, a supposed oþer worlder from a place wiþ lofty ideals and advanced knowledge, wouldst happen to appear before þe very girl most in need of boþ.” She crossed her arms as she scrutinised me.

“You think I’m misleadin' 'er? Trying to scam 'er with lies and deceit or summin?”

“I make no such accusation outryte. I can neiþer prove nor disprove your clamed origin, and I suspect you cannot eiþer. þus, if Lady Alice haþ chosen to believe you, I shall put my faþe in her judgement.” She furrowed her brow and looked at me sternly. “However, if I find you hast broken þat trust and used þe lady for youre own selfish ganes, I will deliver ritechous punishment. Wiþout hesitation. Am I understood?”

“I gets ya, madam, never you worry.”

Despite the fact that I genuinely had nothing but good intentions, I couldn’t help but feel intimidated by her words and imposing stature. She was someone I certainly would not cross by any choice of my own.

“Good. Alice be’þ already eating breakfast. Be þere wiþin five minutes or go wiþout food.” Without another word, Eleanor opened the door, stepped out and closed it again, not even hesitating to look back at me.

I had a feeling earning her trust would be a little harder earning Alice’s.

***

As Eleanor had said, Alice was at the bar eating breakfast and chatting with the kindly barman, the rest of the tavern seemingly empty. I came and took a seat to her left, Eleanor already occupying the one on her right.

“Ah, Barry, good morrow to þee. I trust þee slept soundly?” She said cheerfully as I sat down.

“Ah- yeah, g’mornin’. Think that was the first full night’s sleep I’ve ‘ad since I ended up ‘ere. Hows about yourself?”

“Twas a sound night indeed. My fatigue haþ lifted like a weight from my shoulders.” Getting a good look at Alice’s face, it was clear as day how truthful that was. Though she had still carried herself with the elegance you’d expect of a noblewoman, right from the moment I met her she had seemed exhausted. And considering her one chance to sleep had been interrupted by an assassination attempt, that issue had only worsened over time.

Now that she had finally had a chance to rest up properly, it showed on her face immensely. Her already gorgeous features stood out all the more without the steadily deepening bags under her eyes, and her smile seemed more jovial and energetic now. Her entire expression seemed to light up far more than it had before, and it only added to her natural beauty.

“Barry? Be þere someþing þe matter?” She asked, tilting her head slightly and looking at me inquisitively. It was then that I realised I had been staring for at least a good ten seconds.

“Ah- no, sorry, just not much of a mornin’ person, me. Not switched on until after I’ve 'ad me mornin' cuppa.” Technically I was only lying by omission. Every part of that statement was true, it just wasn’t the reason I was staring. I was just genuinely enraptured by the sight of her for a moment.

“Well, you best eat and drink youre fill kwickly þen,” chimed in Eleanor. “We’ve kwyte a bit to discuss.”