3 An Unfortunate First Impression

Ravian's eyes widened in surprise and he pulled back his arm in a flash as if he had touched an open flame. He moved quickly, his hand reaching out to catch Sigmund before he collapsed on the ground. With a gentle carry, he laid him gently upon the damp forest grass.

"That's impossible..." Ravian murmured, his voice laced with equal parts confusion and concern as his golden eyes scanned Sigmund frantically.

His eyes began to glow with a dim violet radiance as his sight began to peer past the visible realities. Beyond the mundane reflections of light, Ravian's sight appraised the formless currents of magic in its purest form and with every second he traced it, his eyebrows furrowed further.

"This does not make sense." He thought, his mind ablaze with activity as a great many host of thoughts appeared and dissolved with every second like ripples in a pond in search of an explanation. A growing suspicion took root, a theory that persisted amongst the innumerable trains of thought.

Without a better explanation, he proceeded with it. Ravian carefully raised his right hand as his fingers moved in inscrutable patterns, visualizing the gathering of some invisible force. His eyes remained focused on Sigmund, concentrating deeply on the things being observed.

"I must apologize for my oversight." Ravian began, regret evident in his voice as he inspected the flow of magic once more. "However, a solution appears to be at hand."

"If I may have your permission?" he continued, his voice serious yet unfettered by panic. He looks right into Sigmund's eyes, the full intensity of his gaze descending upon him, a silent request for an unwarranted trust.

But Sigmund's trust had been shattered by the unexpected pain that now consumed his arm. As the noble man attempted to rectify his mistake, a surge of fear and instinctual self-preservation gripped Sigmund's heart. He was determined to distance himself from the unfolding ordeal.

"S-Stay back!" He shouted, his voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and defiance as he held up his non-injured arm, using it as a shield to distance himself.

"Kuh!" The pain radiating from his injured limb pulsed through his body, clouding his thoughts and fueling his desire to flee.

However, just as he braced himself to flee, a sudden jolt in his brain disrupted his train of thought. His vision became hazy, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a man who bore a striking resemblance to Sigmund himself standing beside the noble. Although he couldn't hear any sound, he could decipher the words that the man mouthed to him with uncanny clarity, the man vanished after that..

"Trust in people….." Said the strange man, whose presence seemed entirely unnoticed by the noble.

Confusion and curiosity warred within Sigmund, intertwining with the searing pain in his arm. He hesitated, but the vision seemed to change his heart.

His injured arm throbbing, Sigmund reluctantly lowered his defensive stance, cautiously eyeing the noble and the man who resembled him. Though distrust lingered, the cryptic message lingered in his mind, stirring a dormant longing for answers and understanding.

With a voice that declared his vulnerability and defiance, Sigmund addressed the noble.

"Who... who are you? What is the meaning of this? If I am to trust, then I need to know more. Explain yourself!" His voice wavered, a blend of curiosity and wariness, as he yearned for clarity.

"Kuh!" He grit his teeth, mustering whatever willpower he had left to hold pain at bay.

Ravian's golden eyes flashed with recognition and his serious tone vanished, replaced with his usual disarming tone. Adopting a reassuring smile and a voice of utmost clarity, he began, "I apologize, it was quite rude of me not to introduce myself to a stranger."

Rising to his full height of over six feet, Ravian's imposing figure cast a long shadow over the forest floor. His golden eyes, reflecting the sunlight, shone with an ethereal light. His voice, smooth and rich with his characteristic lilt, echoed through the clearing as he introduced himself.

"My name is Ravian," He began, his words carrying an implicit sense of camaraderie. "Ravian Val Kronos, Crown Prince of the North, at your service." His words echoed through the clearing, each syllable spoken with a clarity and accent that was almost musical.

"And it would seem," he added, his lips curling into a charming smile, "that I am far from home." His golden eyes looked at Sigmund with understanding veiled behind amusement, "And so are you."

But before Sigmund could reply back to Ravian, the young woman jumped in between them. She spread her arms wide, positioning herself as a protective shield between Sigmund and Ravian. To her, the tall man before her is attacking the injured man with magic and she will have nothing of it.

Ravian raised his arms up and stood in place, conveying his peaceful intentions. Seeing that, the woman's left arm slowly extended towards Sigmund, the gentle touch emanating a soothing energy that enveloped his injured limb. A soft, verdant glow radiated from her touch, casting an ethereal light upon the pain-stricken area.

The verdant glow appeared soothing at first, its calming color and the woman applying it being a source of relief for Sigmund. But that relief was nothing more than a brief illusion, as red veins erupted all over his body.

"AAAAGHHH!" Sigmund screamed with even greater pain. Wherever it went, the skin began to dry and crack, flaking off like grating cheese. It was torturous, both in appearance and experience.

"Ah!" The woman panicked and recoiled, almost falling if not for Ravian holding her in place, shouting in surprise.

Not willing to let this worsened condition continue, Ravian gently held the woman's shoulders. He carefully turned her around and looked into her eyes, a silent but firm plea for her to let him help.

Glancing back briefly at the writhing, decaying man, she nodded and Ravian immediately let go of her shoulders to swiftly attend to Sigmund's distress.

Ravian's eyes released a violet gleam and invisible currents of magic began to enter him through his raised hand. A cloud of thin dust began to swirl in the air around his hand and departed with all of Sigmund's afflictions. The skin flakes remained and soon a thin wave of water passed upon him, lifting away all the dirt and shriveled skin.

Ravian extended his hand towards the man, his palm open in an offer of assistance. Sigmund took it and stood, sighing in relief with the pain gone.

"Your magic is quite strange, it's the first I've seen anything like it." Ravian remarked, keeping the strange turn of events in mind.

"It was so strange that it was allergic to my own." He chuckled, his eyes seeming to be tracing something invisible in the air. "But enough academics."

Ravian cleared his throat subtly, giving a light cough. "Now pardon me, my dear friend, but what is your name?"

Sigmund's voice quivered with a mix of awe and disbelief as he witnessed the miraculous healing of his wounds, ignoring most of Ravian's words. His eyes fixated on the vanished wounds, now a mere memory of the pain he had endured.

"M-My name is Sigmund... Is this magic..?" he uttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The word "magic" lingered in the air, it was as if a veil had been lifted from Sigmund's eyes.

Sigmund's heart raced with exhilaration as the concept of magic took hold of his imagination. His excitement couldn't be contained any longer, bursting forth in an exclamation of sheer joy and wonder.

"W-WAIT! Magic? Magic exists?!" Sigmund's voice echoed through the forest, his tone filled with exuberance and childlike excitement. His eyes gleamed with newfound enthusiasm, and Ravian almost felt bad taking magic for granted.

"Indeed, magic does exist." Ravian affirmed. A purple spark emerged from his right eye, softly illuminating his chiseled features. "Observe." Ravian added.

On cue, an invisible finger manifested out of thin air. It moved with a life of its own, gently poking Sigmund's left earlobe before tracing a path down his neck. The phantom touch was ticklish and it left an electric trail of warmth in its wake before it decomposed into a light breeze, rustling nearby leaves.

"So this is magi- AHH!" Sigmund's excitement was abruptly halted by a sharp, searing pain that pierced through his skull, leaving him gasping for air. His vision blurred, fading into a disorienting haze. The headache intensified, threatening to overwhelm his senses.

"AHH!" He cried out in anguish, his voice carrying the weight of both confusion and agony. The memories that flooded his mind were like fragmented shards of a forgotten puzzle, fleeting glimpses of a life that seemed both familiar and foreign.

He saw himself adorned in an ornate robe, surrounded by towering walls of an unfamiliar tower. Conversations with unknown faces played out like ghostly apparitions, their voices fading in and out. And then, in his mind's eye, a final memory emerged, a figure adorned in a similar robe, speaking to him while wielding a staff.

"Magic comes from what is inside you. It is a part of you. You can't weave together a spell that you don't believe in." Said the figure. The words echoed through his consciousness, resonating deep within his being. But before he could fully grasp their meaning, the memories dissipated, leaving behind only the echoes of a distant encounter.

Sigmund's breaths came in ragged gasps as he clutched his head, attempting to make sense of the overwhelming rush of fragmented recollections. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion and curiosity, desperately searching for clarity amidst the tumultuous storm. Ravian's demeanor shifted quickly, gripping Sigmund's shoulders hard and the young woman also held his hand in concern, saying something reassuring in her native tongue.

"Are you alright?" His voice, a moment earlier smooth and charming, was now deeper in tone and laced with concern.

His gaze swept over the surroundings, the golden orbs scanning the environment with a keen eye. They soon landed on a nearby clearing, where a few fallen logs lay scattered, their rough surfaces warmed by the sun and touched by creeping moss. He tilted his head towards the clearing, gesturing at Sigmund.

"You should sit." He commanded, his voice firm and authoritative. Nodding once at Sigmund, his intense golden eyes then stared directly into Sigmund's eyes. "I insist."

"I will help carry you there." He continued, his voice softer now, but no less commanding. "Come on."

Sigmund, still reeling from the onslaught of memories and the lingering effects of the headache, nodded in agreement. As his legs trembled beneath him, Ravian swiftly moved to his side, gently slipping his arm around Sigmund's back and supporting his weight.

"Sigmund," Ravian said, his voice a soothing balm. "Lean on me," he offered.

Guiding Sigmund's unsteady steps, Ravian carefully led him to a nearby clearing, a haven within the embrace of the ancient trees. The sturdy fallen logs beckoned them, offering respite and a chance for Sigmund to gather his thoughts.

The young woman followed them to the clearing, driven by both curiosity and concern at this unfolding scene. She quickly gathered her herbs, tucking them into her bag before following the two men to the clearing. Two strangers had appeared in her peaceful morning routine. One, with hair the same shade as hers, was injured and disoriented. The other, however, was a different story altogether. His dark, elegant attire, complete with a flowing cape, and his golden eyes were unlike anything she had ever seen.

He held a captivating presence, like a dark prince straight out of a fairytale.

The injured man, despite his strange attire and the rare sky blue color of his eyes, could have been one of her own people. But the other man, the one with the golden eyes and the air of mystery, was a different story altogether. He was undeniably attractive, like a foreigner who hailed from a faraway land but then his features appeared to be more than just that of a mere mortal. She found herself drawn to him, despite the strangeness of the situation.

Could he be a wizard? That seemed the most likely explanation. His aura was different, powerful in a way that was both intimidating and intriguing. She found herself unable to tear her gaze away from him, her eyes following his every move as he helped the injured man, stealing glances at the dark-haired stranger.

Ravian flashed a charming smile of approval at her, hinting at his intent to involve her as well. She almost blushed as she nodded, continuing to move through the shrubbery into the clearing.

The sight that greeted her was nothing short of magical. The wounded man was now standing, his earlier pain seemingly forgotten. Ravian stood beside him, his cape billowing gently in the breeze, his golden eyes reflecting the morning sunlight. He looked every bit the dark prince from childhood fairytales, his presence commanding and his aura powerful.

"Sigmund," Ravian began. He moved to a spot under the shade of a towering tree, the sunlight filtering through the leaves casting a dappled pattern on his dark attire. He took a seat, his back against the rough bark. His cape, a dark and crimson contrast against the vibrant greenery, pooled around him.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he tilted his head back, his gaze fixed on the canopy above, his features set in a thoughtful expression. Sigmund then took a seat and the young woman as well.

"Given our shared language, and the peculiarities of my magic in this place, I am led to a rather extraordinary conclusion." He paused, his gaze never leaving Sigmund's face, making him feel a mounting sense of dread. Sigmund tensed, and Ravian did as well, while the woman simply looked on in confusion.

"We are not in my homeland, nor, I suspect, in yours." He paused, letting his words hang in the air. "I am a stranger to this land, and you, I believe, are from Earth." Sigmund nodded slowly, piecing his words together as a confused mix of emotions welled up in him, driving him to slowly stand up as Ravian delivered the truth.

"We're in another world, Sigmund, and there is no way back."