Immersion

Thank you all for the support. Here goes firewood.

Part 8
I babbled. I didn’t know what to say. No matter how I cut it, I was always stuck between lying and telling a very hard to believe truth.
“Who are ye?” Ledgic pulled at my shoulder to himself and bashed me against the wall again. “The truth.”
“I... I...” I was sure he couldn’t handle the truth.
“Rentarn strolled by ‘gain, ‘oldin’ ‘nother letter identical to th’ one ye gave me. So ye ain’t an emissary or envoy, or any shi’ like tha’. Who. Are. You.” The pressure of the blade increased with every emphasis.
“What goes on there?” A lamp shined further to the left and headed close to us. I looked at it, then back at the empty space where Ledgic was. He disappeared. As the Light drew closer and found only me, it lowered and revealed a purple mask to my light-blinded eyes.

After establishing that I was fine, I let Rentarn think my assaulter was a simple thug. I explained I was trying to reach the Mage Quarter. The doctor expressed his concern of myself moving about at night, and suggested I went to my business during the day. I realized, with all the commotion, I didn’t eat, and after a rumble of hunger, the doctor escorted me to the nearest inn for a meal and a nigth’s rest. “You gave me some things to think about.” I looked at him, as we strolled by the cold canals towards the common house. “I’ve seen quite a bit in this world. I don’t find it inconceivable what you claim, that you come from another world. But I simply cannot believe that all I’ve known for half a lifetime to be fictitious, a product of another person’s mind.”
I didn’t want to argue with him at the time. It was too much to ask for him to believe, so I just nodded.

We sat at the inn’s tavern, on the ground floor. Trade District had already closed for the night, and the usual ruckus of merchants and buyers was dead. Inside the inn, the fireplace was lit, but the place still felt cold. There was a lack of bear skins on the floor, since it was still summer. A woman with obvious signs of who spent a whole day working came by to lay down the order of her two last tenants. I looked at her locking and barring the door before turning to my food. Boiled cabbage, carrots and potatoes, with a side of pumpkin jam. I wrinkled my nose and gripped my tankard first. Through mead and talking with Rentarn, I slowly managed through my meal, finding a chicken leg hidden between the vegetables in the process. We talked about where I came from. I found it easy to explain cars, electricity and modern science, gripping onto the counterparts in Azeroth. He nodded as I went on, supporting himself on his elbows.
“Yes, we do. Physicians, where I come from, wear white coats and work in hospitals or clinics. They know a lot about different medicine and the human body.”
“Ah, so they favour the herbal touch to magic?”
“I’m sure they’d like magic best, really. It’s just that we don’t have magic where I come from.”
Rentarn stared at me in a very familiar way. For the second time today, I had left him without words.

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[You must be registered and logged in to see this link.] I found it rather endearing that Rentarn was going to approve that modern physicians preferred herbal medicine, but then the author was forced to admit that his world had no magic by comparison. Still enjoying it, especially the interaction between characters!

Part IX - Roman numerals from now on, to add class.
I woke up in bed to the sound of my cellphone’s alarm clock. I stretched, my eyes still closed, and, out of habit, I flailed my arm to find it on my nightstand. I found a burned out candle in turn. I opened my eyes, quickly sat up and looked around. I was in the inn’s upper room. Which was in the Trade District. Which was in Stormwind. Which was in…

“The World of Warcraft…” I sat again on the tavern floor of the Blue Eagle, the Trade District inn, with Dr Rentarn, who had come early to guide me to the magi corner of the City. The breakfasts were much better than the dinners here, and also very early served. Most of the other residents had already left, around five, going about their businesses in the human capital.
“That’s how it’s called back on Earth.” I affirmed while wolfing down a slice of bread with strawberry jam.
“Alas, explain to me how such a window to our world is possible without magic.”
“Through technology and science. Kind of like the naaru, minus the magic.”
Rentarn pyramided his fingers, looking past me in thought. I knew it was hard to imagine something as advanced as inter-world gates and windows without recourse to magic, to him. And to me for that matter.

We made our way through the canals, towards the Arcane Academy. The Mage District was beautiful. Vines grew and constricted the houses around us. The windows were ornamented with glowing stained glass, depicting dragons, battles, mages, castles and towers. The morning light seemed shinier around us.
“This is quite a beautiful part of the city. The invisible ley lines that concentrate in this district give its residents the feeling of vigor and happiness. It is short-lived though, as most cases of arcane addiction have its source on the residents of the Mage District. Therefore the Council tends to only approve the housing of apprentices or other magic wielders.” The district was certainly awe-inspiring, but I didn’t actually feel anything invigorating about it. Perhaps it was undermined by the excitement of seeing the Mage District with my own eyes.

We reached the tower. It was colossal, almost as high as the Cathedral. Several compartments and rooms jutted out from the cylindrical structure, defying the laws of architecture and physics. I had to remind myself this tower was held by magic, for most part. A twisted ramp, worth of Escher’s design, serpented up the tower into its entrance.
We entered through the archway into a circular hall. The whole room was covered in expensive and gold woven carpets and tapestry. The figures depicted flowed with movement, reenacting battles, magical formulae and world-shaking figures. I stopped astonished, looking at the ornate furnishing, curtains and stonework. Robed apprentices hastily stepped about holding towers of old tomes. Familiars followed them, and they came in all varieties of docile looking creatures: small arcane elementals, sprites, little birds of fire, amongst others too fast for my eye.
Rentarn came back from talking to a clerk, while I looked around stupefied. “Arcanist Zedlo is in the research laboratories. Apparently he did not give up on his theory.” I smiled, expectant, and followed the doctor up some carpeted stairs, giving the hall a last glance.

As we got closer to more reclusive divisions of the Academy, the wonder started to fade. Corridors harboured dust and spider webs, shadow and cold. The lowly lit path led up to a heavy looking wooden door.

The arcanist stood on a small stool, crooked over a table. As we entered into the faint blue glow of the arcane laboratory, he looked over his shoulder. After seeing Rentarn and remembering the ridicule he faced, he turned back into his table, scanning his notes with his eyes. Rentarn looked at me, and I stepped forward, with the same conviction as before.
“Professor Zedlo?... I need your help.”

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Part Tenth
I opened my eyes a while after the sudden blue flash coming out of the gnome's hands blinded me, forcing my arms to my face.
"Yes! Yes!! YES!" The professor was ecstatic. He flipped on his heels and went straight back to his table where vials, beakers, empty cages, ink pots, a much used quill, and stacks of books and tomes were. He riffled through his notes, as if he struck gold and was now looking for the pages of his research to confirm it to be gold. Rentarn sized me up, hesitant.
"You're unharmed..." I looked at him, after hearing him boggle.
"Of course! Just like I, Professor Zedlo, predicted! Want to laugh at me now, minister? Hmmmmmmmmm?" I looked back at the table and the gnome was gone, replaced by yellowed parchment shaking in front of my chest, held by the creature much smaller than me. "You are the proof I require for my hypothesis! After hearing your tale, and how perfectly it matched with my theory, I realized you were not just any human. Allow me to explain."
Professor Zedlo, the world-jumping theorist, explained. After the Cataclysm, many disruptions were unaccounted for by shamans and magi alike. These disruptions could be elemental in nature, as expected, but "the weave and behaviour of magic is unpredictable" remarks Zedlo to the sitting doctor and companion. The professor came into contact with one of these peculiar disturbances a while back, and found it to be a rip in the barrier that separates planes of existence. After some analysis, he found that the neighbouring plane simply did not return any magical scrying, or impulses. No mana emanated from the new-found plane.
"After you confirmed that in your world no magic existed, I simply put that to the test." The gnome smiled confidently while picking at his twirled white moustache, coupled with a groomed booming beard that well covered his chest.
"By flinging some kind of spell towards me?" I asked incredulous. The professor knitted his brow, being faced with someone second-guessing his brilliance, and was well on his way to start his lecture, if not for Rentarn.
"All living things have mana." He explained, looking at me. "To the archmage, all the way to the worm that wiggles on the earth, it is a necessary component to life and animation. For magic to affect the caster and the target of the cast alike, it draws upon the mana of each."
I tried to ponder what it meant to not have mana then, when the professor concluded. "Even stones, wood, air, grass, fire, the earth have mana. The crushing majority of things in Azeroth does, and it is how a spellweaver may set a house on fire, move a stone with his mind, and generally affect the world around him." He pointed a bony and well worn out finger towards my face, held up by my hands. "If you have no mana, no magic can affect you."
"I'm immune to magic?" I straightened my back, the pieces finally sinking in. I felt nothing in the Mage District afterall.
"Essentially, you are Manaless." With the initial eureka gone, the gnome professor now looked at me with the morbid fascination that a scientist has towards a freak. A freak that needs to be captured, analysed, gutted if needed, so the world can understand the why.

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Yessssssssss more story! I love it, as always.

Glad you picked this one up again matey boy!

Part Eleventh
Professor Zedlo looked me over for the fourth time that evening. He made some quick jabs at my clothes, not really understanding how to make such foreign clothes look good or groomed.
"Keep still, don't lose me out of your sight, don't fidget too much, don't look at the ministers' eyes directly - or any noble for that matter, actually just don't look at anyone!" The list of formalities bore through me as I made my way through the Stormwind Keep halls with Zedlo, under the vigilant eyes of the royal guards standing perfectly still as if part of the marble. The keep was opulent, to say the least. The ceiling stretched far high. From them hanged down iron casings containing the fire that illuminated the dark corridors. Gold and silver lining crept down to the polished reflective columns. Leaning against them were nobles in colourful clothes and silks, whispering and conspiring, occasionally throwing the not-so-subtle look of disdain towards the commoners coming to assist to the Council meeting. Zedlo stopped at the entrance of the short corridor giving way to the open heavy wooden doors to the Council Room. "And for the love of the Titans, Manaless, keep your mouth shut."

The Council Room was breathtaking. It was much larger than I imagined, and so much more full. The room was square in shape, with worked wood benches covering all the four sides, working up as one goes closer to the actual wall, like an auditorium. The entrance to the room was a tunnel as wide as the entrance doors, framed by benches and spectators to the affairs sitting on them. The walls were coated in blue and gold, standards of the Alliance and the different crests of the noble houses in court. In the middle of the room was a ornamented dark wood table made to appease the Alliance. The legs were shaped as the hind legs of lion, and the chairlady's seating, made of the same wood, sported a highback with the head of the Alliance animal patron proudly sculpted in the wood overlooking a blonde head. My eyes scanned the present ministers and I found the purple figure that had went ahead to prepare for the meeting. Zedlo gave me a slight push from my standing position. "We shall be sitting down there, on the bench of the solicitors."

Earlier that day, the doctor and the professor had agreed to help me with my original and only quest: to get back home. Zedlo required only a favour, to clear his name in front of the Council. Rentarn had suggested that maybe the Council would also fund the gnome's research, so as to find a way to have me on my way back home, if they were to see sufficient proof. And that is why we found ourselves there, amidst the masses of people all talking, murmuring, and commenting to eachother while the session had not officially started and the ministers still organized some papers around the table. The incessant noise finally stopped at the sound of Chairlady Rohwyn Leomin's trained voice, announcing the opening of the meeting. After the initial declarations were made, the floor was opened to the solicitors.

Hours passed as the topics of debate were addressed. A farmer wished a permit for a different type of vegetables, a salesman was concerned over the new importation taxes, a noble or two came looking for "rightfully owned" titles and lands, and much more. The topics were addressed with a loud and clear voice in turn, so that the whole assembly could hear. The ministers and solicitors talked with their heads raised and paced so that their voice would be projected in all directions, giving the affair of Tom Builder's permit for the remodulation of a tavern a slight dramatic touch. Deaf to the actual proceedings, I busied myself looking over the ministers present and looking over their features, so familiar, but such strangers to my eyes.

"And our turn nears..." Zedlo murmured as he hopped off the bench he was standing on, looking over his notes. I breathed deeply and followed the gnome, telling myself not to look around at all the eyes on the stranger, lest I was crushed by their weight.

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Love it. Keep writing man, this is awesome!

Paradox.. You sir, are awesome.

Part Twelfth
The professor's advice ringed in my ears amidst the hum of arcane energy building up in his hands: "Remember to not flinch when I strike at you. It will give the display of... credibility." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, inching my chest out forward slightly. I heard a loud gust, as if wind had taken in a much more dense form and exploded from a single point in space. The shockwave blasted through me. I felt my hair whip, but I did not move a centimetre. I opened my eyes to the whispers and low ramblings amidst the audience that followed suit. I looked over the professor again as he bowed towards the councillors with a touch of sarcasm, keeping somewhat of a smug grin. The ministers kept an inquisitive eye on me, and leaned over towards Minister Vezullia. After she had approved the legitimacy of the arcane spell, and the lack of any wards she could sense on my person, the councillors huddled up to the table, their plotting covered by the incessant whispering of the audience all around us. A man with a face as rigid as his armour kept looking over his shoulderplate at me, whipping his hazel ponytail around his cape. Geldar had a look. This most unnerving, stinging look.

I started feeling faint. My vision blurred, and my knees shook slightly. Maybe it was the pressure, they were discussing me after all. But no, this was a feeling different than anxiety. I felt something touch my scalp, from the inside. I quickly swoop a hand through my hair, but nothing. The touch developed into a massage; a soothing but still nerve racking feeling. For a moment, my vision blurred into a shade of blue and two bight focals right in front of my eyes. I blinked, and it was gone, as was the feeling. The only draenei at the councillor table had her eyes closed. She meditated.

"We decided that this merits further study, professor." Vezullia stepped up. Her gnomish figure had to stand on one of the chairs to be picked out from amidst the taller races. Her eyes were as big as her ears, but they showed maturity. "That's what I have petitioned for the last time, ministers!" barked out Zedlo, full of himself, as if he had planned my coming all along.
Geldar's armour clanked as he stepped to take the lead. "It was suggested that your research be funded." The general's voice was scratched and weathered, not only by age, but by shouting in battle. "And quite so, we now see no reason why not." I started the hints of a smile, expectant, and looked at Zedlo just in time to glimpse the beginnings of a victorious grin. "However..." My neck snapped back to the clause with a scary minister attached. "... Do you truly require the Manaless to be with you? Could you not study this seam in time and space alone?" The ministers looked him over, and Rentarn got up. This was certainly a new idea that just came up. "What do you mean commander?" asked the purple doctor. "I mean that the Manaless has certain... properties that can be quite useful, I'm sure you'd agree." I think I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye. It moved quickly, in contrast with the static audience ogling with interes--
"No!" protested Rentarn. "You cannot mean to, Angelos!" Geldar's eyebrow twitched.
"Let us put it to a vote, then." Geldar turned fully to the meeting table. "All in favour of research for the sake of leverage for our soldiers that are dying in the battlefields; for the sake of giving their families something to count on. For the sake of the Alliance. Say 'aye'." One by one, the ministers raised their hands, except for some that only did so later, in a hesitated and embarrassed fashion. "Any opposed?" Rentarn took a glance towards me and the other ministers. He saw himself at a clear disadvantage, but defiantly raised his hand. The blue draenei opened her eyes. Two bright focals in the distance. She raised her hand.
"I know the doctor's protest and story. What would be your objection, Mandui?" The draenei stood tall, garbed in white and dark blue robes. Her hair was neatly gathered in a somewhat conservative manner, making a bundle of whitish blue between her dark horns. She took a pause to ponder her words. "I don't object. I abstain."
"On what grounds?"
"Simple. We didn't have enough time. This..." Mandui produced a quick gesture towards my location. "... Revelation caught the Council off-guard. We're deciding the fate of an other-worldly creature, but a creature no less. The ministers should be given time to ponder the decision carefully and vote on the next meeting."
"Almost all ministers voted 'aye', Mandui. If they felt the same way, they would have abstained." Geldar leans over the table, trying to gain as much ground as possible. The doctor interjected, the general would throw arguments, and the draenei would riposte with the path of caution. The other ministers assisted, forming their opinions. What about my opinion, though? They were discussing me, and I felt I didn't have a voice. Then again, what could I say?
Finally, the chairlady spoke, getting up from her seat to make herself noticed and stop the heating debate. "What Mandui suggested is wise. I do not feel the voting ministers had full conscience of what they voted to, in lieu of a never-before-seen spectacle of immunity to magic. The best intentions for Stormwind are clear here, but it is a decision we should not take light-hearted. We will reconvene next week and vote then, hopefully with all things considered." The ministers all nodded, agreeing. Rentarn adjusted his mask, giving Mandui a subtle nod of appreciation, and turned back to look at me. Geldar scowled, but quickly composed himself, his mind brewing. As for me, I felt my way back home to be further and further away. I never really liked politics.
"This meeting is adjourned." The bang of a gavel on carved, but weathered, wood closed the evening's proceedings.

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Do want more!

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Part Thirteenth
The moon was much larger, and brighter than back on Earth. "It must be Elune. Bet she doesn't have a care in the world."

Slumped on the side of my inn bed, made with crusty sheets and a moth-pecked wool mantle, I looked over the window. The streets were dark and barren, and would be silent as well, if not for the violent rain pouring down in sheets on the cobble of the Trade District. Occasionally my broom closet-sized room would flash for a brief moment. In anticipation, I'd wait for the thunderclap to come and break the patter of the rain on the glass.

"I apologize. If I'd known of all these affairs." Rentarn - or half of him, bathed by the oil lamp's light he carried - looked over the inn's entrance. He gave the heavy and dusty door a few punches, and soon the graceless innkeeper, clad in stained night attire opened only a nick of it. After being met with a well known purple mask, amidst the rain, she opened the door, chastising us for the time it was, the cold that was entering, the mud we were going to leave on the mantle and the rain that was splashing her bare feet. "My apologies, the Council meeting took longer than expected, ma'am." Flash.
"Fine fine, just get in."

Thunderclap.

The woman gave the street one last look, and closed the door, sliding the black iron lock on a shackle affixed on the doorframe. "I'll put the kettle on the fire."
"You really need not, Miss Gra--" The woman scurried over to the kitchen behind the counter, talking about how she couldn't sleep now, eitherway. I had been quiet the whole trip to Trade. The prospects of being 'studied' did not appeal to me in the slightest, and the more I thought about it, the more it seemed my fate. The ministers had their interests in mind, not mine. Flash. If the rift was sealed, they could not care less about an 'other-wordly creature.'

Thunderclap.

I gave Rentarn a slight glance, and he sat looking over the empty eating hall, in silence. He knew nothing could be said, and we could only wait for an outcome. But first we waited for the tea. Then we waited until we were done with it. I waited for Rentarn to leave. I waited for the innkeeper to give me some crusty bedsheets and a moth-pecked wool mantle. And now I sat on the side of my bed, waiting. Waiting for my fate, or, for use of a better synonym in this case, my assailant. Flash. Had I known better my surroundings, I would have noticed the window to my bedroom unlocked. Had I been sharp, I would have noticed the lack of a snore on the room opposite to mine. Had I not been waiting for the thunderclap in anticipation I would have noticed -

Thunderclap. The sound of the door to my room opening.

Had I an ounce of fighting skill in me, I would have used my right leg to unbalance the cloaked and hooded man that held my shoulder down on the bed and a sweet-smelling cloth over my nose and mouth. Had my reaction not been of sheer panic, I would have held my breath and not hyperventilate. Flash. Had I not closed my eyes, I would have seen the brief flash of light over the face of a man with eyes as cold as steel, twisted only by mild effort, and moved only by orders and strict discipline.

...

Had I not been waiting for my fate, I would have heard a thunderclap.

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EEEEP.

More, please, you wonderful scrub. Glad you've picked this up again.

Valerias wrote:EEEEP.

More, please, you wonderful scrub. Glad you've picked this up again.

What she said!

Thank you, you guys. You're like the straight-face fridge-crap-posting parents I never had.

This is so nice. Keep it going
*Joins the club*