Chapter 2: A Strange Place

Reigar opened his eyes a little.

The ground shifted beneath him, drawing closer and falling away with each jolt of his body. He saw grass passing nearby and the hem of a garment swaying in front of his face. Something firm pressed against his stomach. His arms hung limply, barely responding when he tried to move them.

Someone was carrying him.

He tried to lift his head, but a dull ache spread from the back of his neck into his shoulders. A faint sound escaped his throat, swallowed by the footsteps.

“He moved…”

The words reached him distant and muffled. He wanted to ask who was speaking and where they were taking him, but his eyes closed before he could make out the face bending toward him.

He lost consciousness again.

When he woke, his body was still.

He lay staring at the ceiling. Dark wooden beams stretched between lighter planks, and a small bundle of dried herbs hung from one of them.

He blinked slowly.

This was not his bedroom ceiling.

Turning his head to the right, he saw a table with an earthenware pitcher and a cup, and a chair with a folded garment draped over its back. To his left stood a low cabinet against a pale wall. The room was quiet, though mingled voices drifted through an open window.

He pushed the blanket off his chest and sat up. A sudden wave of dizziness forced him to grip the edge of the bed. He waited for it to pass, then felt through his pockets.

His phone.

He quickly pulled it out and pressed the side button. The screen lit up, and he let out a slightly relieved breath, but then his gaze settled on the signal indicator.

No service.

He tried making a call anyway. It failed. He tried again, then stared at the screen for a moment before getting up.

Bracing himself against the wall, he approached the window.

Outside, a narrow street ran between houses with sloping roofs. Wooden beams stood out against their facades, and painted signs hung above some of the doors. A horse-drawn cart passed by. A man carrying a basket stepped aside to let it through, then resumed arguing with a woman at a vegetable stall.

Reigar looked farther down the street, searching for a car, a streetlight, even an electrical wire.

He saw none of them.

The buildings, clothes, and cart resembled pictures of medieval European towns, but the street did not look like a film set. Dirty water trickled beside the paving stones. A barefoot boy ran after the cart, and a woman shook out a cloth from a window across the street.

He gripped the windowsill.

“Where in heaven’s name am I?”

The door opened behind him.

He turned quickly, then had to catch himself against the wall as the dizziness returned. A woman entered carrying a small tray and stopped when she saw him standing.

“You’re awake, thank God.”

She set the tray on the table and approached him.

“Easy. You don’t look ready to be on your feet yet.”

He looked at her, then at the open door behind her.

“Is this your house?”

“Yes. Sit down first.”

She guided him to the edge of the bed and poured him some water. He took the cup in both hands and drank, only realizing how thirsty he was when it was empty.

The woman sat in the chair opposite him.

“What were you doing alone in the forest?”

He lowered the cup from his lips.

Fragments came back to him: the road outside the restaurant, the strange scent, the trees he had mistaken for a mirage. Then the forest, and what had happened there.

“I… I honestly don’t know.”

She frowned.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I was going home. I was walking down the street, and then… I found myself there.”

She waited for him to continue. When he did not, she leaned forward slightly.

“Did you lose your way? Was anyone with you?”

“No. I was alone.”

He rubbed his face, then looked up at her.

“Who are you? Where am I? I need to get back to my city. Is there a phone I can use? Or somewhere I can—”

“Calm down. One question at a time.”

“How am I supposed to calm down when I don’t even know where I am?”

His voice came out louder than he intended. He fell silent and looked down at the cup in his hands.

“I’m sorry… I just don’t understand what’s happening.”

The woman remained silent for a moment, then spoke more slowly.

“You’re in the city of Amraj, in the Kingdom of Dorth.”

He looked up.

“The Kingdom of what?”

“Dorth.”

“What country is that in?”

Confusion crossed her face.

“Dorth is the kingdom. We’re on the continent of Istoza.”

Reigar stared at her.

“Istoza… Dorth… Amraj…”

He repeated the names as though trying to remember where he might have heard them, then shook his head.

“I’ve never heard of any of those places.”

She glanced at his unfamiliar clothes, then back at his face.

“What country are you from?”

He did not answer.

He was thinking about the trees that had appeared in the middle of the road. At first, he had blamed exhaustion. Then he had thought he had lost his way. Now the window overlooked a city whose very existence he could not explain.

A thought crept into his mind, making his fingers tighten around the cup.

Had he been transported to another world?

He almost laughed at the absurdity of it, but no sound came.

“Do you have a map?” he asked abruptly.

“A map?”

“Yes. Please, let me see it.”

She studied him for a moment, then stood.

“Wait here.”

When she left the room, he opened his phone again. He tried the maps app, but the screen would not show his location. He kept swiping his finger across it and trying again until he heard her footsteps returning.

Without thinking, he slipped the phone into his pocket.

The woman carried an old rolled map. She moved the pitcher aside and spread it across the table, placing the cup on one edge to keep it from curling up.

Reigar approached and bent over it.

The map was drawn in ink, with the names of cities and kingdoms scattered across it. A long mountain range stretched through its center. His eyes followed the coastlines, then moved to the landmass opposite.

Nothing looked familiar.

No Arabian Peninsula. No Red Sea. None of the continents he knew.

The woman pointed to a small spot.

“This is Amraj. And the forest where we found you is here, to the west.”

He silently followed her finger.

“Is this a map of the whole world?”

“The known lands, at least. It isn’t recent, but it serves its purpose.”

He scanned its edges again, searching for anything that might give him a reason to object. Perhaps the map was made up. Perhaps this was some strange trick, and an explanation would eventually leave him feeling foolish.

But who would build an entire city for a trick? And how had he gotten here?

He stepped away from the table and sat on the bed.

“I really am in another world…”

“What did you say?”

He looked up at her, then shook his head.

“Nothing.”

He was not ready to explain an idea he could barely believe himself.

The woman slowly rolled up the map.

“We haven’t introduced ourselves. My name is Aris.”

He looked at her as though he had only just remembered she was there.

“Reigar. My name is Reigar.”

“Well, Reigar, where are you from? Perhaps we can find a merchant who knows your homeland.”

He opened his mouth, then hesitated.

A few hours ago, the name of his country would have been a simple answer. Now he did not even know whether it would mean anything to her.

“The Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.”

Aris repeated the name carefully, then frowned.

“Where is that kingdom?”

He lowered his gaze to his hands.

“I think it’s… very far from here.”

He waited for another question, but she merely nodded and moved the tray closer. It held bread and a bowl of soup.

“Eat now. We can talk once you’ve rested.”

He picked up the spoon but kept staring at the food without taking a bite.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said quietly.

“We couldn’t very well leave you in the forest.”

She stood, then turned back at the door.

“And don’t try going out alone. If you feel better after eating, I’ll show you around the neighborhood myself.”

By the afternoon, his dizziness had eased enough for him to go out with her.

Reigar paused on the doorstep, watching the street he had seen through the window. Everything sounded louder outside, and the air smelled of bread, smoke, and damp earth. A man passed close by carrying a cage of chickens, forcing Reigar to step back and make room.

Aris turned to him.

“Stay close. These alleys all look alike when you’re seeing them for the first time.”

He walked slowly beside her.

She showed him the well the neighborhood used, then the road to the market. At a street corner, she pointed out a small bakery and told him its owner closed early. Then she indicated a stone tower rising above the rooftops.

“If you get lost, look for that watchtower. Our house is on the street behind it.”

He tried to memorize the route, but his attention kept catching on everything around him: the coins in a customer’s hand, the swords at the guards’ waists, the way the vendors called out their wares.

He understood what they were saying.

He had not noticed how strange that was while speaking with Aris. Now he could hear dozens of strangers, and he understood them all. He almost asked her about the language, then stopped. He had no idea how to phrase the question without making her even more puzzled by him.

At the market, Aris handed him a small fruit she had bought from a stall.

“You look as though you’ve never seen a market before.”

He took it and glanced around.

“I’ve never seen one like this.”

She smiled and continued walking.

That night, Reigar lay in bed with his phone resting on his chest.

He opened an old photograph and studied the faces in it. Only a short time ago, he could have reached those people with a call. Now he did not even know whether the sky above them was the same one he had seen through Aris’s window.

He typed a short message.

“I’m okay.”

He pressed send.

The failure icon remained beside it.

He turned off the screen before the battery could drain and slipped the phone beneath his pillow. Then he turned toward the window. All he could see outside was part of a neighboring roof and a narrow strip of sky.

He remembered his room, the game he had left running, and the monster he had planned to defeat when he returned from the restaurant. Those thoughts felt painfully close—things that belonged to this very day, yet were now beyond his reach.

Was anyone looking for him? Had he left anything on the road that might show where he had disappeared?

He pulled the blanket up to his chest.

He had loved the idea of going to another world when it was a story he could read or a game he could close. Now he wished he could hear a car beneath the window, his phone ringing, any sound he recognized.

He closed his eyes, then opened them once more to the wooden beams.

He was still here.

He listened to the sounds of the house until they faded. As exhaustion settled over him, his thoughts began to break apart. Just before sleep took him, he reached beneath the pillow and closed his fingers around his phone.