Prince of Silence

A row of samurai armor lines the museum shelving. I solemnly stare at the sets, trying to examine every detail. Huge horns decorate most of the helms, some about a meter tall. I wonder how people wearing them managed to keep their head upright at all. Grotesque masks with fake mustaches seem to peer at me from behind the glass, and I feel a slight chill even though I saw quite a number of them before. Behind the armor sets hang old ink paintings of battle scenes. They attract little attention, though.

“Wow, this one’s stylish,” Yuki quietly whispers, looking at a particularly vivid red chest plate. The mask above it wasn’t as spooky as the other ones either.

“Really? Well, here it does look pretty good, considering they dust it every day,” I reply. “But I doubt it would be very attractive when covered in mud, blood, and guts. The black one over there would look way better after some actual use.”

“Gosh, your fashion preferences are so outdated.” Damn, this kind of answer surprises me, even though I expected something along the lines of it. I seriously don’t know how it is possible to judge someone’s fashion preferences by knowing their favorite samurai armor design, but I guess girls are capable of even that. I wanted to reply with some witticism, but at that point, an elderly man, who was the only other visitor, glared at us with slight annoyance, so we decided to keep quiet.

To be frank, the contents of the museum are the last things I’m thinking about right now. Yes, it’s certainly not boring, and I didn’t visit such places for a long time, but if you are on a date, where you go to is more or less secondary. I don’t know how it is for Yuki, but I am aware of the hand I’m holding more than of anything else in the room.

“Made up your mind already?” I ask Yuki, who is studying the menu for improperly long. Even though I’m not really annoyed, I try to sound like I am.

“I don’t know, everything looks so good... Well, I suppose I decided.”

“Right...” I call the waiter, and we make the order.

After leaving the museum, which wasn’t very large and, therefore, didn’t take long to go through, we headed to a nearby cafe to eat dinner. It’s only around five o’clock, but the sky has already started getting pink. It should take about an hour for it to become completely dark. Winter is really depressing in this regard.

The cafe is of a small, cute sort that looks more like a living room rather than a public place. You can say it’s perfect for the occasion. Combined with slight hunger, the pre-evening color of the sky, and the person in front of me, this atmosphere makes me feel warm, safe, and a bit sleepy.

“How was the museum?” I ask casually, but I’m a little nervous about the answer to be honest. Going on a Christmas date to Sekigahara was my idea, so I feel kind of responsible for it.

“I guess I liked it, didn’t visit such places lately,” Yuki says, smiling. I feel a bit relieved. “Oh, by the way, did you start preparations for the exams?” she asks.

“Nope. I’ll leave it for the last week as always.”

“Wow, I wonder how you manage to get decent scores with such an attitude.”

“Well, being able to relax during holidays is the least I can get for working hard for half a year,” I complain.

“I know, I know. But I still don’t understand you,” Yuki sighs, “you want to be a priest so much, and you’re still applying for IT. You’ll do a ton of unneeded work!”

“IT is the future of preaching in the modern world,” I grin.

“Seriously? How do you imagine that?”

“Well, to begin with, having a decent website can boost attendance to the church just by giving a convenient way to check info on services. Then, there is a need for a well working database of parishioners...”

“OK, OK, I see.”

Yuki figures the conversation could get long and boring, and interrupts me. I was prompting her to do that, as I didn’t feel like getting into a serious discussion now.

“By the way, you got any plans for New Year?” I try to change the topic.

“No. Want to go the temple, like the last time?”

“Yeah, why not?” Great, I just reserved myself another date, and one that is less than a week away.

“I hope you get a better prophecy this time,” she grins.

“No, thank you, I’m not getting one anymore,” I reply dryly. Last year, I got myself a “very bad luck”, and got pretty upset with it. Still, nothing terrible has happened during the year at all. Naturally, there is still about a week left, but I doubt anything major will occur over the period.

I feel like I’m forgetting something. Ah, yes, the gift. I should probably present it now. Yet, as soon as I reach out for my bag, the waiter brings us our food, so I guess I’ll have to give it later.

By the time we finished eating, pretty much everything in the area was already closed, so we decided to take a walk in the fields and head back home afterwards. It starts to become a bit chilly, mostly due to the evening breeze, but my full belly warms me up well enough.

Around us are the rice fields, completely barren. It’s nothing surprising - rice doesn’t grow during winter. We are walking on a lonely path among square patches of land in complete silence. There are no sounds except for the gentle wind, and this quiet brings peace to my mind. I don’t feel like disturbing it with meaningless chatter. The sun is a dimly glowing red circle in the sky, just like the one on the Japanese flag, already half-covered by the horizon. It is beautiful and somewhat ominous at the same time.

In this very place, four hundred and twenty years ago, two samurai warlords, Ishida Mitsunari and Tokugawa Ieyasu, clashed in an enormous battle, a decisive confrontation for Japanese history. Where rice now grows, thousands of people killed each other with swords, bows, and primitive firearms. It must have been pure chaos. Thinking about it, I can’t even imagine something like that properly. For a moment I feel happy that I can live a normal, peaceful life, and my biggest problems right now are exams at school and university application.

“This sunset is kind of sad,” Yuki suddenly breaks the silence, but in a quiet, undisturbing way.

These words make me realize my strange melancholic fear. It’s truly odd. The sinister sun disk, the memories of battle that seem to still linger in the air, the general loneliness of our surroundings, the barren fields - it creates a special atmosphere that seems to resonate with me, creating a mental dissonance I never felt before. It is a very strong sensation, yet impossible to explain in words. A tear comes down my cheek. The surrounding air is dense with misery, slowly dissolving my mind and driving it into madness. The cool breeze that licks my face feels to have come from a grave. I sense death, close as ever, pass by, patting me on the shoulder. As the dread progresses, my voice stops listening to me, my body stiffens, I want to shout, call for help, but air can’t go past my neck as if there is a hole there...

“Sakuma, you alright?” Her voice brings me back. I notice my breathing going slightly wild, and bits of sweat dripping on the forehead.

“Ah, yeah, just daydreaming. Evening-dreaming rather,” I make a clumsy attempt to laugh off Yuki’s concern, even though it’s not very considerate. Nevertheless, the sensations I just experienced were so disturbing that I needed a moment to calm down.

“Looks like that’s it,” Yuki remarks, looking in front of us. She is right. Ahead, the fields turn into forest-covered hills and the road is going deeper into the mountains. According to the map, there’s nothing interesting in that direction.

“Let’s head back then?” I ask.

Yuki nods, so we start walking back through the same scenery. The sun has already set, and night engulfs the fields.

As we make our way to the station through the poorly lit streets, I reflect on the day. Even though everything went smoothly and we had a good time, my mood is next to awful. I’m sure it’s because of that. I don’t think I ever felt reasonless misery and fear so severely before in my life. I wonder what was the cause of it. Did I become unconsciously nervous after thinking about my unlucky prophecy? What’s more, now I’m having physical sensations in my stomach, and they are not of a pleasant sort. This, at least, is something I’m well familiar with.

“Yuki, can you check the train schedule, please? I’m out of internet until New Year.”

“Watched YouTube outside again? You’re helpless,” Yuki sighs. “Let’s see...”

She takes out her new iPhone she was bragging about for a while when we met today and starts searching for the timetable. I start to walk faster, as my belly is about to go wild. It does happen to me once in a while, but now it’s as unsuitable as ever. I still need to get to the lavatory just in case.

“Ow, looks like a train just departed. The next one will be only in forty minutes,” Yuki finally says in disappointment.

That’s good news, I’ll have more than enough time to deal with my problem.

The fields have long gone, and private houses line the streets. It’s getting busier as we walk. The station is already in view.

“Sorry, I’ll go on ahead. Wait at the ticket machines, please,” I quickly tell Yuki, struggling not to start running.

“Sakuma? What’s the problem?”

“Nothing special, I just need to go to the bathroom. See ya.”

“Ah, OK then. I’ll wait.”

After this brief farewell, I double my walking speed.

Luckily, the seizures seem to weaken rather quickly, at least to the point at which I can live with it. I stare at the door in front of me, reflecting. I feel like I made a grave mistake. Why on earth would I think that an old battleground would be a good place to hang out at? Yuki seemed fine, at least on the outside, but I’m still uneasy.

I close my eyes and try to recall it. The lonely fields, blazing pink, and warriors on them. The warriors, their ghostly bodies about to collapse, slowly approach me. Their arms are reaching out, as if they beg me for help. The ghosts say something in a hissing voice.

“To wish upon a star, or to believe in someone’s will?”

That’s what I believe it is. It’s complete nonsense, but they keep asking me this over and over again. How can I even answer such a question? It’s like asking what can change the nature of a man. Wish upon a star? Believe in someone’s will? How am I supposed to know? After all, why am I imagining all this with such clarity?

I open my eyes. Rather, I try to open them, but instead of the white plastic door that’s supposed to be in front of me, I see nothing. Literally nothing. It’s like space, but without stars. The place is so empty I forget to panic for a moment. I try to move my arm, and it seems to function as usual, aside from the fact there is no arm where it used to be. I consider my situation. Am I dead? Not a bad hypothesis, but I couldn’t die instantly without feeling anything. That much is clear. Did I fall asleep? As embarrassing as it may be, this is the most realistic assumption for now. Well, if it is indeed a dream, and I figured it out, it shouldn’t be hard to wake up.

I blink my eyes, and vision returns to them. Yet, instead of a lavatory cabin, I’m in a dim room, lit only by candles. The air is cold and wet, and I’m sitting on a wooden chair. Furthermore, there are two people in front of me, staring at me with a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.

“What the...” I leap off the chair and hastily put my pants on, glancing around the room while doing so. As I already noted, the room doesn’t have any windows, so the only sources of lightning are scarce candles. From what I can make out, all the walls are lined with packed bookcases, and most of the remaining space is occupied with tables full of books and scrolls. Because of the chaos, it seems like there are more books in this single room than in a small library. The chair I was sitting on stands in the center of a large hexagon, painted on the stone floor, presumably with chalk.

“Are you the warrior from another world I have called upon?” asks an elderly voice.

Only then do I look at the people in front of me. The one who just spoke is an aged man with a long, but well-tended gray beard, dressed in an old-fashion suit. His tailcoat, expensive trousers, varnished shoes, and white gloves remind me of an eighteenth-century aristocrat. Upon closer inspection, however, I notice that there is a faint medieval note in his clothes. He examines me with wise, yet somewhat unpleasant eyes through a monocle. The one next to him is a blond guy about my age, judging by his looks. He is also dressed in a suit, but probably a cheaper one. He is still staring at me in bewilderment, as if he just saw an alien. Well, if I understand the situation correctly, it’s not far from the truth.

“And you are the wizard who summoned me into another world,” I confirm rather than ask. The old man frowns for some reason.

“For now I shall assume you had no ill intent by ridiculously calling me a wizard,” he says heavily. I have no idea what made him so mad because even if he is not a wizard, he looks and talks just like one.

“I am a mage of Faery, Hoohoolin. Now I’d like you to introduce yourself.”

Hoohoolin? What sort of name is that? And is there a difference between a mage and a wizard? Dozens of questions fill my mind. I read enough fantasy novels to get a rough idea on where I am, and, honestly, at this point, going to another world is something so common for a Japanese teenager to do that I’m not even really surprised, but there are a few problems. First, everything happened way too swiftly. My understanding of the situation is very shallow, and I didn’t get my bearings yet. Second, I don’t hate my life enough to be happy about such a fundamental change. And finally, I was snatched out from a date, and I still didn’t give Yuki the Christmas gift. So summing up, I am not happy with the current state of things. I should find out a bit more and make him return me as soon as possible. I look at my watch - if I manage to get back in under twenty minutes, we might get to the train in time. So, I need to make up a befitting introduction...

“I am Hayato Sakuma of Nagoya. I’d love to help you with killing rats in your basement or doing whatever quests you have prepared for me, but I have some really pressing matters to attend to back where I came from, so I must insist to be returned. There are lots of other guys who would love to get summoned to a fantasy world, I assure you. Feel free to try again.”

I notice something strange while saying so. The language that the Hoohoolin guy used was a strange mixture of French, German, and Italian, It’s kind of natural for a fantasy world. However, I somehow perfectly understand every word he is saying. What’s more, the language I just spoke was the one Hoohoolin used. My mind explodes at the thought, but apparently, I can somehow use the local tongue at a native speaker level without even realizing.

“It is impossible,” the mage suddenly says.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I cannot conduct a teleportation to a precise spot in these circumstances.”

“Why not?” It’s a bad joke. Please, it’s either a bad joke, or I just fell asleep in the bathroom.

“That is the nature of such magic,” Hoohoolin says so as naturally as if he is talking about the weather.

“So I’m stuck here?”

“Not necessarily. If you manage to win and survive this fight, I might consider researching the matter as a token of thanks. Naturally, nothing can be guaranteed.” I can’t stop being amazed by his emotionless manner of speech. His ability to casually say stuff that pretty much decides on my fate makes me shudder a little.

“Right. By the way, I think I didn’t mention it, but I’m just a student, so don’t expect me to do any good in a fight.”

There might be a small chance that I got some kind of superpowers during the summoning process, but something tells me the only special ability I received is this mysterious built-in translator.

“So you are a warrior’s apprentice? Then you will most likely die, but I don’t have enough information about your world to say that for sure,” the mage says. I start to get the feeling that he is talking more to himself than to me.

“I’m not a warrior’s apprentice,” I say in annoyance, “I am a student in a normal, civilian school. I haven’t ever held a lethal weapon in my hands before.”

Thinking about it, I didn’t even practice martial arts, even though one of my friends encouraged me to try it out. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so lazy back then.

“What? Then you are just a commoner, a victim of war?” Hoohoolin sounds deeply surprised.

“I’m not a victim of war! There is no war where I came from, I didn’t ever fight with a weapon, I don’t know who you think I am, and I don’t know what you expect me to do!” Seriously, just why is he so sure that I’m involved in a war of some sort?

Hoohoolin makes a troubled face. Perhaps it’s the first time he has shown any emotion during our conversation. “Then... my calculations were all wrong? The place and time must have been right! Curses, it is a failure!”

He sounds seriously disappointed now.

“Wait, master. If this failed, we will die!”

The blond guy suddenly speaks. Looks like he finally got over his astonishment at my awkward arrival.

“Quiet, Siegfried. If you panic in this situation, you cannot call yourself a mage.” Hoohoolin says in irritation.

“Seriously, can you just explain the situation to me? I’ve got no idea of what is happening,” I interrupt them.

The mage sighs. “Well, we do have about ten minutes until they arrive. Explaining everything to you before you die is meaningless, but I suppose I have to do this much.”

“Wait, what do you mean, before I die? And who are ‘they’?” I didn’t panic when I arrived here, but now I start to.

“It was my project for a while now,” Hoohoolin begins. “Our kingdom has... complicated diplomatic relationships with a very powerful state. I assume the name will not tell you much. If there were to be a war, it would be bloody and hard to win. But at some point, I got my hands on a particularly interesting research report. Combined with months of my own work on it, I managed to construct this.” He points his finger at a contraption standing on one of the tables, completely surrounded by books. It looks just like an unpainted globe. Some spikes and arrows stick out in different directions. Trying to figure something out without a user manual is pointless.

“And you realized this planet is round,” I remark sarcastically.

“Do not interrupt me, if you have any manners,” the mage sounds displeased. “The fact you just idiotically remarked was discovered centuries ago.”

That’s nice. Maybe this fantasy world isn’t as barbarically medieval as I expected, and if I have to spend the rest of my life here, every bit of technology is helpful.

Hoohoolin continues, “This machine is a very sensitive detector of chaotically spilled magical energy. Suffice to say, it is the first of its kind.”

He looks like he earnestly thinks I understand what he is saying.

“Magical energy? So it detects places where magic is used?” I inquire.

The mage humphs. “You keep amazing me with your ignorance. I’m starting to believe there is no magic where you came from.”

I suppress the urge to confirm that, because if I do, this conversation will go in a completely different direction, and I suppose I should listen to what he has to say first. Yet being called stupid so many times does get on my nerves.

“When magic is used, magical energy is emanated in the most harmonic way possible, or no magic will ever work. This device detects energy that is emitted when a human dies.”

Oh, I see. So this machine shows where people die... I don’t get how it relates to me though.

“The place where a lot of people die in a short timespan. The most common place like that is a battlefield. Yes, this contraption points to a location, where a battle is going on right now. It detects battles instantly, from any distance. If I knew an exact place, I could use a complex teleportation ritual to bring a random person from the area. Since they were summoned from a battlefield, the probability of summoning a warrior drastically increases. Do you understand now?”

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say I’m completely stunned. All of those things this guy said reminded me more of science fiction rather than fantasy. Two points are clear though - I’m still in the same universe, and Hoohoolin messed up.

“You actually got the place right,” I finally manage to say.

“What? Where was the mistake then?”

“The battle indeed happened at that place, only 420 years before.”

Hoohoolin looks dumbfounded. “How on earth could the time be wrong? This mechanism is supposed to react to current magical energy interference...”

That is certainly weird. If the place was wrong, it could be written off to a defect in the contraption. However, I doubt that it pointed to Sekigahara by accident.

“Magical energy, whatever it is, travels instantly, right?” I ask.

“Indeed. It is not a substance after all.”

There is an awkward pause. Hoohoolin is deep in thought, and I silently stare at him, digesting what he just said. When it hits me, I start laughing.

“Are you going insane already? What a frail mind,” the mage says in displeasure.

“Well, I’m sorry to break your scientific view of the world,” I say, trying to suppress my frenzied laughter, “but nothing in the universe can travel instantly. If magical energy actually spreads at the speed of light, it would explain a lot.”

“Nonsense. A four hundred year mistake is impossible because of that,” for the first time, Hoohoolin’s voice doesn’t sound overconfident. I’m having a blast on the other hand. Not only it is an opportunity for me to feel superiority over this arrogant man, but it’s pretty much the first occasion my school knowledge was of any practical use.

“It is. In case you didn’t know, the distance between stars and other space stuff is measured in light years. So it’s nothing to be surprised of.”

“You are saying that it took over four hundred years for something as infinitely quick as magical energy to get from your realm to here?” For some reason, Hoohoolin sounds on the verge of a mental breakdown. I don’t blame him. I would be crushed as well in this situation if I read a bit less manga. At the very least, I know my approximate location now. I’m about 420 light years away from Earth, on a planet with not even primitive life, but conscious humanoid creatures that can use magic. If I ever make it back home, I’ll get a Nobel Prize. And unlimited respect of all otaku in the world as well.

Suddenly, I sense an eerie pressure. It’s similar to when you are being eavesdropped on, but incomparably heavier. I feel like the source of this tension can end my life right now, even though it should still be pretty far. What can it possibly be? Is this what the mage was talking about when he mentioned my prompt death? My stomach squeezes in fear, and my pulse gallops like a mad horse.

“What is this?” I quietly ask Hoohoolin, who seems to look a little uneasy as well.

“They are certainly getting close. I should still be able to conduct a single teleport,” he says, his eyes gazing at the closed door.

“What are they?” I vaguely realize that those things aren’t human. A human aura can’t be this strong.

“Demons. They are known as Goth knights. Surpassing humans in every possible aspect,” Hoohoolin explains gloomily. “I don’t understand why, but two of them attacked my castle. They seemed to be content with pillaging villages until now, so I was caught off guard. My scientific nature suggested that it was a good opportunity to test the summoning method.”

“Wait, so I was supposed to fight some super demons? Are you serious?”

“I did not expect a failure of this scale. Well, feel free to try. Mayhap some miracle will help you beat them. I will depart for my residence in the capital.” The mage walks to the side of the room, where another hexagon was drawn on the floor.

“Master? Are we teleporting away?” Siegfried asked, his voice trembling. He has been so quiet after I arrived that I almost forgot about his existence.

“I am in no condition to warp more than one man. You two will have to get out on your own.” His voice is so calm, Hoohoolin reminds me of an experienced surgeon for a moment, a person so accustomed to people dying that his voice doesn’t even twitch talking about it.

“So you summoned me here, took everything I had, ripped me out of a date, destroyed my life, and now you leave me to die?”

My instincts tell me I will perish if I stay here, there is no need to even think about it. I never saw the threat, but if its distant presence is enough to make me dizzy with terror, there is no hope to survive if it tries to murder me.

“You can’t fight, can you? Then you have no value to me or the kingdom.”

I’m mad. I want to punch this guy just for saying that, but I can’t. He has a point, and no matter how vexing it might be, he is probably right.

“But master! I was your apprentice for years! You can’t just leave me here!” Siegfried is convulsing in hysterics at this point. It annoys me, even though I can’t really blame him.

“Don’t make me repeat myself. Your education isn’t anywhere near complete, and you are not at a a stage when you can study yourself,” Hoohoolin says. “Even if you survive, you will not become a decent mage without further tutoring. So your rescue in this situation is meaningless. After all, you should have been prepared for something like this when you decided to learn magic.”

Siegfried is standing motionless, digesting what his teacher just said. I feel a slight gust of pity.

“You’re right,” I say coldly, glaring at Hoohoolin. “But you’re a dick.”

Saying no more, the mage instantly disappears. There is no flash of light, no sound. We are just silently condemned to death.

I try to breathe as deeply and slowly as possible. My body feels like I’m dreaming, and my brains aren’t fast enough to perceive all the mind-blowing stuff that took place in the last couple of minutes.

I glance at Siegfried. He is still idiotically staring at the hexagon that Hoohoolin disappeared from, and by the looks of it, tries his hardest not to cry. Judging from the mage’s personality, I doubt those two were very close, but being abandoned for death even by a stranger feels bad enough. I do need to loosen the mood, though. If Siegfried panics, I certainly won’t be able to keep calm, and I mustn’t lose my cool no matter what.

“Who are those Goth knights, anyway?” I ask casually. Despite the previous explanations, I still have no idea of what they are and what they look like.

“They are death,” Siegfried’s voice trembles. He’s not being any help whatsoever.

“Like, personified death? With a scythe and everything?”

He doesn’t answer. Looks like I picked an inappropriate topic. Suddenly, I hear heavy, resonant footsteps close by. Metal plates clang loudly. Maybe I got used to the pressing aura and could calm down a little because of that, but my heart starts jumping around again at the sound.

“They are here...” Siegfried whispers in terror. He trembles with huge amplitude.

“Are there any weapons in here?” I ask. I’m positive that my efforts are futile, but if I want to die a sane person, I must act.

Siegfried soundlessly points towards the back of the room. There, behind another book-filled table, is a weapon rack with a dozen of blades in it. I feel somehow disappointed because it only means less excuse for me to backpedal. Approaching the rack, I notice that the swords there look like they were untended for at least a couple of years. There’s no rust, but the metal looks dull and darkened. I calm myself with the thought that for an amateur like me, such concerns don’t matter.

The only things I can use for self-defense in this room are swords, tables, books, and Siegfried, even though the latter probably wouldn’t do much good at this point. My bag still lies near the chair where I first appeared. Looks like it got teleported here along with me. Inside are a wallet, a lighter, and a pair of new bluetooth speakers that were supposed to be a present, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Yes, and a pack of wet tissues. In short, not a whole lot of useful stuff. I’ve got to work with what’s available though.

“Siegfried, what magic can you use exactly?”

“Telekinesis,” he says.

“Seriously? Just telekinesis?”

“How old do you think I am?” Does learning magic really take so long?

But if he is really able use telekinesis decently, he might not be as useless as I first thought. A rough plan is almost complete inside my head. It’s not likely to get us out of here alive, but it’s still better than patiently waiting for our demise.

“I’ve got an idea, so if you want to live a bit longer, better follow my directions,” I say.

Siegfried is apparently so freaked out he doesn’t seem to even care. To be honest, it’s for the best. I start swiping off books and scrolls from tables.

“What are you...” Siegfried looks at me as if I’m defiling a grave in front of him.

“Look, dude, I’m sure you understand by now, but we are desperate. We need to use the environment to its full potential. And a small spoiler, just so you know, we’re going to burn all this.”

“B... B... Burn!?” Damn, he is scared of me more than the demons now!

“Relax, you will probably die in the process, so you won’t need the books anyway,” an uncontrolled burst of dark humor leaves my mouth. Luckily, the blond guy doesn’t seem to notice.

After dropping all the books to the floor, and sneezing our lungs out because of the dust that spreads out in the process, we carry the tables and some of the bookcases together to form an improvised barricade. They were surprisingly light, even though Siegfried still struggled. The preparations are almost done.

“Now to take a weapon...”

The sword is heavy. I have little trouble lifting it, but purposefully swinging it around would be a challenge. For a second, I truly regret relaxing at PE classes. The hilt, covered in old leather, is rough and painfully rubs my palm skin. Suddenly, in a gust of irresistible emotion, I take out my phone. No signal, as expected. With trembling fingers I open the camera app and take a single photo, a selfie of myself, holding a real, metal sword in a dark room of a mage’s castle. I know there will be no one to appreciate this photo, to be amazed at the bare fact that it was taken in such ridiculous circumstances. It is just the only proof that what just happened is reality.

They are standing right in front of the heavy door, I can feel it. I let go of my sentimentality, put the phone back, and stretch my muscles. Siegfried is still trembling nearby, but at least he’s trying to control his fear. Escaping in this situation is impossible, so the only hope of survival we have is the craziness that’s about to happen. The door looks rather heavy, so there must be a minute for me to brace myself...

With a loud crack, the door shoots inside the room, as its hinges are torn out, and instantly reaches the opposite wall with a smash, only half a meter from me. While I try hard to accept the fact that the door I expected to last a minute is obliterated with a single impact, I see the creatures that made me vomit with despair from a distance, and my body is finally paralyzed.

The two men in front of me are truly death in pure essence. Plate armor, bulwarking their bodies seemingly without a single weak spot. A cloak covering it, stirring without wind, as if alive. Two dim red lights, where eyes should be, staring from behind masks, which are in turn half-covered by hoods. Huge swords, as long as my arm, effortlessly held in one hand. Overwhelming strength, able to blast through the thickest possible door. A devastating presence, seeming to push me down to my knees. All of their armor is blue, but so dark that it could as well be black, and few would’ve noticed. If nothingness had a color, I think it would be that. All about them says they can kill anyone, anything in their way. No human can oppose something like that. I immediately understand that I can neither flee nor hide from them.

“Dammit, this world needs a bit more balance... Who the hell thought it was a good idea to make me fight the final boss on level one,” I grumble. “Well, let’s dance.”

A thin tongue of flame erupts from the lighter. I even got a detention with a school principal once for having it in my backpack. He calmed down only when my parents came to school, and all three of us sworn that I don’t smoke. No matter what anyone says though, I firmly believe that a lighter is something everyone should have with them at all times, just in case. I guess today proved me to be right. The flame licks a scroll, and the heap of paper on the floor flares up. I cover my nose and mouth with the tissue, gesturing Siegfried to do the same.

The demons stand at the door, swords ready, and stare at us with the red dots. Now that the room is well lit, I can make out more details on my foes. They look nearly identical to each other. Their armor, swords, even masks... No, masks are actually the only things that distinguish them. The holes in their masks are different. The knight to the right has a simple horizontal line, while the left one’s gap has a very complex shape that reminds me of deer horns. I glare at them and surprisingly feel myself calm down. Perhaps it is a remainder of teenager rebelliousness, but when I look at them, the only desire I have is to wipe their noses and prove my superiority, or equality, at the very least.

“Corporal Siegfried, fire!” I order, tossing him a sword.

He grabs the sword with trembling hands and almost drops it.

“Get a hold of yourself, you...!” I add some untranslatable strong language.

This seems to make an effect, as Siegfried tosses the sword into the air, and it is launched towards the hesitating demon. I carefully follow its trajectory. As it is about to crash into the knight, I notice a quick movement of the demon’s claymore. It is so fast I am not even sure whether my eyes deceived me, but the sword Siegfried hurled lands a couple of meters to the left.

“Not bad, not bad.” Not to say I didn’t expect something along those lines, though.

The thing that happens next does take me by surprise. The knights start to slowly approach. They don’t seem to mind the blazing books in front of them at all, as well as the thick smoke that makes it hard to breathe even through a tissue. I unconsciously back up. I put up big hopes on the fact that the demons won’t be able to inhale smoke and walk on fire. It seemed safe to assume that they are living creatures, and living creatures need oxygen no matter how powerful they are. Looks like normal logic isn’t applicable to those beings.

Becoming desperate, I toss Siegfried yet another sword, while throwing another one myself. Again, they are deflected like clumsily tossed baseball serves. The demon steps right into the burning mess. Flames lick his armor and coat, but he doesn’t catch fire. In fact, he doesn’t even look like he is hurt. I chuckle. My plan was falling apart right before my eyes. Damn, even a certain puny hobbit was doing a better job confronting all-powerful wraiths. Looks like the situation can’t get much worse than it is, so I can take a risk.

With a pathetic, high-pitched scream, I rush at those demons, silently chanting all the prayers I remember. It’s not bravery that made me do it. I charge because I am too scared to peacefully wait for death. Maybe I hear someone gasp from behind me. Despite the fear, my body feels lighter than ever before. Just as I ready my sword for the strike, an unstoppable impact rips the blade from my hand and sends me flying back. What is this? Am I falling? Pain, stronger than anything I ever experienced, pierces my whole torso. Through a blurring vision, I see blood streaming from a huge cut across my chest. I’m lying on my back. That’s ironic, considering how I saw the attack coming, but my body failed to respond in time. I wonder why I wasn’t cut in half, that would be much more logical in this situation.

Above me is the sky - the lofty sky, not clear yet still immeasurably lofty, with gray clouds gliding slowly across it... No, it’s just the ceiling. How stupid of me. I’m probably on the verge of death if I see stuff like that. The last thing I can perceive is a demon punching his palm with a spiky gauntlet, and dark blood dripping into Siegfried’s wound. Looks like they got him without any resistance. Why would they pour their blood into his wound, though? It’s probably another hallucination. Siegfried loudly moans. This blood pouring thing must hurt. Ah, I feel something dripping in my wound too. I prepare for pain, but I don’t feel it. Well, I guess that’s because I was cut earlier. Maybe I should have tried to stop them with a cross? How didn’t I think of that before? They are demons after all, so they should be weak to religious influence...