Night Fall

Her room wasn’t much larger than the wooden bed in it. They had somehow managed to cram a table with a chair into the room as well, and that was it. She noticed the bundle with her old clothes and her backpack in the corner next to the table.

Nia quickly strode over and rummaged through her things. It looked like everything was still there.

“I hope you’ll rest well,” Qiin said. “And please don’t hold a grudge against us. You are our only hope!”

A harsh laugh forced itself out of her throat. “I can’t speak for the others, but I’m fairly sure you got the wrong person to be a priestess. I am not sure whether I can nor whether I will help you.”

“Oh, you will. Don’t worry.” Qiin smiled at her and closed the door behind him.

Nia stared at the door. His last comment had sent shivers down her spine. It sounded as if they wanted to maneuver them into a situation where they didn’t have any other choice but to do their bidding.

Well, more so than we already are …

She sighed and sat down at the table. Part of her wanted to reach for the laptop and surf the internet, but she knew that she couldn’t—she hadn’t even checked, if the machine worked at all. Even if it did work, she couldn’t play a game on it—the laptop just wasn’t powerful enough. There weren’t even any games installed. No movies to watch or books to read. She could work on her little game, but she wasn’t in the mood.

What did one do for fun in a medieval world? She just didn’t know. Maybe she should take up writing. Though such a crazy story like this probably wouldn’t sell, would it?

She wondered a while what she could have done differently to avoid being magically abducted into another world. It didn’t help that she didn’t remember how she’d gotten here.

The only thing she remembered vividly was her transformation. And then she knew what she could do for the evening. She quickly walked to the door, which—of course—couldn’t be locked. But since it opened inward, she could at least use the chair as a temporary lock.

Then she turned away from the door and took a deep breath. Now that she stood there, alone, without anyone breathing down her neck to get ready, she could really feel the changes. Her figure was more petite, and while she could move normally and naturally, she still felt that there was a difference every time she reached for something.

Then there was the change between her legs. That was also a difference. And she wasn’t sure whether she could, or even should, embrace it. What would happen, if she touched herself there? Licking her lips, wondered …

A knock on the door caused her to flinch. She shook her head and quickly turned around. “Yes?”

“I have brought you a change of clothes, and something to eat,” a voice said through the door. Was that brother Renard? Nia unblocked the door carefully.

The monk was on the other side, balancing a tablet on one hand. It had things on it that looked like bread and fruits. A bundle of white clothes was held below his other arm.

“Thank you,” she said and took the tablet out of his hands. She put it on the table in the room while Renard placed the clothes on the bed.

“I … No problem,” he said. “Your other clothes weren’t salvageable.” He quickly left the room, closing the door from the outside.

His whole behavior felt a bit strange all of a sudden. Did he respect her now?

She looked at the door for a bit longer, debating whether she should put the chair back in place as a temporary lock. When her stomach growled, her priorities shifted.

She took a bite from what looked like bread. It wasn’t quite as fluffy inside and crispy outside as she liked and was used to, but slightly spongy. Still, as hungry as she was she finished the rest of the strange bread and quickly turned to the strange fruits as well. It was cone-shaped, had the texture of an apple and a taste that reminded her a bit of cherries. Then there was a spherical fruit that smelled like oil but tasted like cooked potatoes. And a little square cherry-like fruit that tasted like those ninety-percent dark chocolate bars.

She ate it all. She hadn’t even known that she was this hungry until she’d taken the first bite. Then again, she had lived through a whole day without eating anything and had been subjected to a ceremony that had changed her completely. So being hungry should be in the realm of expectations.

After being satiated, and expelling a few really unladylike sounds, she turned to the clothes. There was more of what she thought was this world’s—or maybe era’s—version of underwear, another robe, a set of boots, and a slightly thinner robe that probably was supposed to keep her warm at night.

She piled all of them neatly—for her own definition of neatly—at what she defined as the lower end of the bed, and changed quickly into a new set of clothes. She’d answer the question about her femininity at another date. After that, she climbed into the bed and below the scratchy sheets. She immediately missed her mattress and comfy sheets.

Why do people romanticize the medieval era so much? Besides the bath, everything has been worse. Despite there being magic.

Sleep took its sweet time to claim her. It felt like it had stayed behind in her world, and was still desperately trying to catch up, but couldn’t.

The dimensional barrier probably doesn’t help either.

She turned to wondering what her priestly duties would be. Healing and blessing people? Would she then be able to use magic herself? Would she have to pray to some god to use it? It seemed that goddesses existed in this world at least. Did that mean that the god of her world existed as well? Even if he did, she never had had any relationship with him, and could do well without him. She also had no relationship with the goddess of this world.

And that probably meant, she was cut-off from getting any power from them. Which meant, she was really the wrong girl for this kind of job.

She rolled around and sighed, hoping that it would soon be dark enough so that she could sleep …