Chapter 1: Into Another World

I looked out the bus window, at the approaching Tiberias central bus station, then checked my watch. We’d made good time; I’d make my connection and get to base on schedule. It would be tight, but on time was on time.

Then, it’d be just about two weeks straight in the field, running exercises. On the one hand, I was looking forward to it—it meant a lot of time with my crew, and our tank, honing our skills. But on the other…it would only exacerbate my feelings of helplessness, of uselessness, especially given news from yesterday. More rockets fired at us from Gaza, on Hanukkah no less. A holiday on which we celebrated strength and a great military victory, and here we did next to nothing to actually defeat our enemies. Not because of lack of ability. Oh, no. It was a pure lack of will, a product of weak leadership.

Enough, I told myself. Dwelling on that sort of thing was only going to unnecessarily stress me out, and it’d change nothing. For about another year, at least, I’d be just another soldier, able to change nothing on my own.

In a bid to think of something more positive, I pulled out my phone and looked over plans my father and I had put together for my month-long visit with my family back in Pennsylvania in just under four weeks’ time. We’d prepared everything we would need to construct, from scratch, the two primary firearms used in the American Revolutionary War, the Brown Bess Musket and the Pennsylvania Rifle—those were more people whose accomplishments deserved celebration and emulation. It would be a fun, if cold month working on that with him; our most ambitious project yet. And if we got them ready quickly enough, we’d get to use them in local reenactment while I was in town—using charges with only powder, of course. I sent my parents a quick text message via Whatsapp, wishing them a shavua tov, or good week, and promised I’d call when I had time in the evening.

With a minute or so still left before we’d pull into the station, I decided to leave my little sister a message too. Not quite nineteen yet, she’d just drafted to the army herself—fortunately not to a combat role. Even though her job held no inherent danger, I couldn’t help but worry a little bit. With our parents across the ocean, it was my responsibility to watch out for her; that’s what big brothers were for.

“Hey,” I said as I began the voice message recording, “hope you had a great Shabbat! I’m gonna be in the field on an exercise for two weeks, but I’ll have my phone with me at least, so if you need anything, or just want to talk, I’ll have at least some availability, probably in the evenings. Talk to you soon!”

I put the phone away as the bus pulled into the station, then, after readjusting my rifle, which was slung over my shoulder, I descended from the bus and retrieved my large army backpack from beneath it. After getting it on, and taking my plastic bag containing breakfast in one hand, I headed across toward where I’d wait for the next bus and eat.

Before I got moving, I saw a familiar face disembark from the bus.

“How was your weekend?” I asked in Hebrew as I waved to Hillel Ben-Dov, another tank commander in my unit.

He shrugged as he pulled his own bag on, and adjusted the positioning of his kippah—skullcap—atop his dirty blond hair that was on the cusp of being over regulation length. He liked to live a bit dangerously—although, to be honest, my hair was about at that point too, so I was in no position to judge. “Nothing special, just Shabbat with the family.”

As a native Israeli, Hillel was younger than me, just nineteen—as opposed to my advanced age of twenty-three—and lived with his family.

“Ready for a couple weeks in the field?”

He grimaced, but I could tell he was at least as excited. “Not like we have any choice. You sure you packed enough?”

I laughed. “You know me. Better to be over-prepared than underprepared.”

“True, true. It’ll be fun, don’t worry.”

“Any day we get to fire the cannon is a good one, even if it’s just practice.”

“I’ve got a feeling we’ll be doing more than practice one day,” he replied. “We’re past due for another war, aren’t we?”

“Think we’ll finish the job next time?”

“If only it was up to us.”

“If only.”

“You coming?” Hillel asked as he motioned toward the other side of the station with his head.

“You go on ahead,” I said. “I need to adjust one of my bag straps.” Over the last few moments, it had suddenly grown uncomfortable. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He nodded, and began to walk as I took off my bag and began to adjust the strap.

It was nice to have someone in the unit I could easily talk to, someone who shared my political and religious views. It was nicer to feel like you weren’t the only sane, clear-thinking person in the room. He was a solid co-conspirator when it came to talking about such matters to others in the unit too—we’d have plenty of time to do that over the next couple weeks.

I put my bag back on, and set off to where Hillel, and a few other people from my unit—I could tell by their distinctive blue shoulder tags with the stylized “7” on a blue shield background—were gathered, some sitting on benches, others standing and talking or buying food at one of the several cheap fast food places in the station.

As I walked, my mind began to wander again, and some of my frustration returned. What would I be able to do, truly, to change things, to actually fight, protect my people, as I’d wanted to do? Like so many young men, I’d had a more romanticized vision of military service in my mind than reality—I accepted that. But it didn’t make me any happier, despite knowing, innately, that this was where God meant for me to be right now. The why was always the most elusive aspect of such questions.

Just then, however, I noticed something odd, and stopped to look at it. A strange shimmering in the air in front of me. It looked almost like the visual distortion caused by extreme heat, but it was cool out, and I felt no heat source.

I took a step closer, and the shape of the shimmer grew more distinct; an oval, slightly larger than I was, and, moments later, it grew more elaborate, kind of reminding me of sparklers, though there almost seemed to be…symbols in the sparking and swirling patterns.

Weird.

I glanced around, to see if anyone else noticed it, but everyone was just going about their business, like usual.

I’d just decided to ignore the likely illusion, when I suddenly felt a strong force acting on me. Before I could so much as react or cry out, I was yanked toward, then into the distortion.

An instant later, I found myself stumbling onto a grassy plain, and, thanks to the weight on my back, I fell forward, though I fortunately caught myself before I fell flat on my face.

What in the world just happened?

I was back on my feet quickly, and I spun around, toward the distortion. If I’d somehow been pulled into, or through it, I should be able to get back—

The instant I turned to it, the distortion, the portal—probably a more accurate term for it—winked out of existence, and my sprint only took me through empty air.

“What the f—”

My exclamation was cut off, and I instinctively hissed in pain as I felt a burning sensation on both my palms.

I dropped my food bag, and looked at my hands. Before my eyes, I saw a symbol appear in the center of each palm. On the left, a spiral, and on the right, a sunburst with eight points.

The burning sensation stopped, and cautious touching of both marks revealed that despite what I’d felt, there was no burn mark—in fact, apart from the symbols’ obvious presence, the skin felt normal. The closest comparison I could come up with from personal experience was henna art I’d gotten at a festival once, but even that felt different. Maybe tattoos felt like this, but as an orthodox Jew, I had no frame of reference on that front.

However, my mind quickly moved away from the marks on my hands—they were the least strange and concerning thing about my current situation.

Where in the world was I, and how the heck did I get here?

And more important, how do I get back?

I pulled out my phone, which, of course, had no service, and checked my map applications. As I’d kind of expected, they just showed me amid a sea of blank whiteness. It had no idea where I was. No way to navigate, no way to communicate with anyone.

That was probably when I came the closest to panicking. What would happen to everyone back home, what would they think? My parents, siblings, friends, crew. God, the army, my duties—would they think I deserted, or that I’d been kidnapped? A few months back a soldier had gone missing for nearly a week. The country was practically turned upside down, and we nearly went to war with Gaza, again, before he was found safe.

Calm down, I ordered myself. You have the skills you need to find a way to survive, find a way back home.

Wherever I was, I could at least breathe, and, seeing as it was a lush-looking environment, with plenty of greenery around, there was a good chance I wasn’t alone on this world—though whether any life I found was friendly was another question entirely.

I did hesitate, though; one of the basic rules of survival is, when lost, to remain where you are. But that assumed people were going to come looking, that they could come looking. There was no sign of that portal coming back, so I had to assume I was on my own. So, I’d have to pick a direction to start walking in.

I took a quick survey; I was in the middle of a grassy plain in what looked to be a hilly region, and from my position it was difficult to see much in the distance, apart from a forest some distance away, and tall mountains even further out.

Going with my gut, I chose to walk east—well, where I assumed east was, anyway, based on the sun’s position. For all I knew things…here worked differently. But having spent so much of my life looking east, toward my current home in Israel, it felt like the right choice.

I readjusted my backpack and rifle, picked up my food bag, and set off in silence. I was tempted to play music on my phone, just to help myself relax, but considering I was in an unknown location, I’d need as few distractions as possible. Also, even with the small solar panel on my backpack to charge the device, it felt like a waste of valuable power. Though I did take a few pictures of this beautiful, but alien landscape. I should at least document this experience as best I could.

As a matter of fact…

I pulled it out again as I kept walking, set it to take a selfie video, and began to record, speaking in Hebrew.

“This is Uriel Makkis, ID Number 8940277. Sergeant in the Seventh Armored Brigade, 77th Battalion. I know this is going to sound completely crazy, which is why I’ve decided to take a series of video logs to document what is happening to me. This morning, while on my way to base, I was…pulled into some sort of portal, and have found myself on a strange world, with no apparent way to get home.”

I reversed the camera view to show the empty landscape in front of me.

“I want it known that when I arrived, at least, I was fine, and that I intend to find a way home as soon as possible. Hopefully, even if something happens to me, I hope that this will be found, somehow, so my commanders, family, everyone will at least know what happened. I will continue to record updates so long as I am able to keep my phone operational, and its storage space allows.”

I shut it off, and stuck it in a pocket on one of my shoulder straps and attached it to the charging wire that protruded from the bag. No reason to let good, alien sunlight go to waste after all.

For the next fifteen minutes, I walked through more quiet country, my backpack growing all the more irritating, before my chosen direction finally paid off.

There was a road, right there in front of me! It was quite a primitive looking dirt road, like something I’d see in a movie set in medieval times, but it was clearly man-made, and had to lead, eventually, to some form of civilization. Of course, there was still no telling whether said civilization would be friendly or not. Not that I had any other option, of course.

Onward.

I tightened my grip on my M4. I was lucky I had this with me, though I only had two magazines worth of bullets, so fifty-eight in total, unless I got lucky and there were some strays buried in my bag. If I did need to use the gun, I’d have to be very careful, and precise.

Before I continued on, I took a moment to remove my trusty, American-made Ka-Bar from my backpack and attached it to my belt. Strictly speaking, I wasn’t allowed to carry it back home, but I’d always believed in better safe than sorry—and I happily took advantage of the fact that soldiers’ bags were never searched, and that we got through metal detectors with a wave of our army ID. Now, there would be no police, military or otherwise, to give me any trouble at all, and it was another useful weapon.

I continued east, now following the road, for another half an hour without finding any additional signs of life. Shoulders aching, stomach rumbling, I decided it was time for a break. I had plenty of daylight left, as it seemed to be late morning here as well.

I found a large, mostly flat rock on the side of the road, dropped my bag, and sat down to eat in the shade of a large, leafy tree that reminded me of something from Earth, though I wasn’t enough of a tree expert to pick out a name.

It was a mistake, in a way, as the quiet, static time allowed me to think too much.

Here I was, trapped on some alien world, with no knowledge of anything here, let alone whether there even was a way back home, where I’d likely vanished without a trace.

What do I do?

Again, I couldn’t help but wonder what everyone I care about would think, how they would cope with my disappearance—assuming that time functioned the same here as it did back home, of course. But it wasn’t worth worrying about questions I had no way of answering. All I could do was think of a few stories I’d read or watched that had similar events, but they varied so much they were of no help. This was terrifyingly real.

Relax, I ordered myself as my mind started to race again. Move forward, don’t stress about things you can’t control.

I had to take this one step at a time, draw on the skills I’d been taught by my parents and the army, and trust that God would help see me through this, and leave me with a great story to tell, as opposed to something…less pleasant.

I had just finished eating, and was about to set off again down the almost eerily empty road when I finally heard a sound that wasn’t a birdcall break the silence.

It was a scream. A woman’s scream.

Immediately, I was on my feet. After a moment’s consideration, I left my backpack where it sat and sprinted toward the sound, rifle ready in my hands.

As I ran off the road and up a hill toward the initial sound, I heard more noises, the sounds of fighting, blades striking each other, cries and grunts of pain. Whatever was happening, I had to get there quickly if I was going to be able to theoretically help anyone.

Abandoning the road, I ran up a grassy hill and partway around its top, where I finally saw the source of it all. There were two women, up near the top of the hill, almost surrounded by what appeared to be short, green…goblins?

Well, now I have somewhat of an idea of what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

I didn’t let the sheer insanity of what I was seeing get to me. The time for action was now, before it was too late.

One of the women, who was wearing some sort of light armor, was on the ground, bleeding profusely from a leg wound near three dead goblins, a sword on the ground next to her. Three other goblins, however, were closing in, crude, but sharp-looking daggers out. The second woman, wearing simple but also somewhat ornate robes, was standing over her fallen friend, desperately trying to use a knotted wooden staff that held some large yellow stone to keep the creatures at bay, with little success. Then she took a wrong step, and fell to the ground.

The creatures advanced, moving in for the kill.

“Hey!” I shouted, and began to rattle the charging handle of my M4, to draw the goblins’ attention. “Come test your luck against someone who can fight back!”

Sure enough, they turned toward me, evil little smirks on their faces, and began to approach me.

Good.

I tightened my grip on the rifle, flicked on the laser sight, shoved in a magazine, cocked it, and turned the safety to semi-auto fire—all in the span of no more than two seconds.

With the goblins still closing, and quickly, I brought the rifle to a ready position, aimed, and fired.

The shot rang out, echoing through the otherwise fairly quiet countryside, and the targeted goblin fell dead, blood pouring from a hole in its face. I won’t deny the fact that using my personal weapon, in anger, for the first time came with a real adrenaline rush.

I didn’t wait to see if the others would run or press the attack—there were no rules of engagement holding me back here, after all—as I took aim and fired again, hitting the second square in the chest. My third shot, on the last goblin, wasn’t a kill shot, hitting it in the shoulder—though it rendered its arm useless—but my fourth finished the job. Need to be better next time. Only fifty-four bullets left, not counting any surprise spares.

Killing small, but dangerous creatures like goblins was often how fantasy adventures started, wasn’t it? I was probably on the right track, then.

I flicked the safety back to safe, and ran over to the fallen woman—who, I noticed for the first time, had pointed ears. I was starting to get a real good idea of what happened, where I was, crazy as it sounded, but my job wasn’t done yet.

“Help me stop the bleeding,” I said to the uninjured woman—who, I also just noticed, had long, pointy catlike ears of top of her head—as I fished in my side pocket for the tourniquet I carried. Wait, she probably didn’t understand me.

“Step aside,” she said quickly, shoving me to the side slightly as she crouched over the injured woman—the injured elf, ignoring the blood staining her clothing.

Oh. Apparently she not only understood me, but I understood her. Well that would make things easier.

With one hand she gripped her staff so tightly her knuckles went white as she held her other hand over the bleeding wound, paying no mind as her long, brown hair spilled over her shoulders.

“Heal,” she said, and a moment later, a yellow light began to shine from both her hand and the wound. Within seconds it was sealed, the bleeding stopped, with the only sign of a possibly fatal wound being slightly pinker skin where it had been healed.

Well that was cool.

“Are you alright?” the healer asked the newly mended warrior. Or was soldier more accurate?

“I will be,” the elf replied as she sat up slowly and collected herself, and seemingly just then noticed me for the first time. “Who’s this?”

“I…I don’t know.”

Well, here we went.

I took a step forward, and the healer, who had seen me use the rifle, flinched back. “I’m sorry,” I said, sticking with English, since they apparently understood it, somehow, as I let my rifle hang from its strap. “I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Uriel Makkis; I’m a sergeant in the Israel Defense Forces; Seventh Armored Brigade, 77th Battalion. Would you mind telling me where I am?”

Their confused looks only further confirmed what I already knew. “Uh,” said the healer, “this is Fulnar, the only kingdom for many leagues. Where did you say you were from again? Wait, sorry, I forget my manners—you did just save us, after all. I’m Kirala, and this is Tirelan.” She rose to her feet, finally loosening her grip on her staff somewhat.

“Uriel,” I repeated, then held out my hand. Instead of accepting it for a shake, however, Kirala simply stared at it, her golden eyes wide.

“Sorry,” I said as I pulled it back before things got too awkward. “Force of habit. Where I’m from, people shake hands as a way of greeting.”

“No, we do that here too. It’s just…” she pointed at my hand. “Where did you get that?”

“Get what?”

“That…that mark.”

Oh, right.

I suppose this is where I learn if that mark is a good or bad thing to carry here.

“Oh, this?” I replied as I looked at my palm again. “This appeared right after I was transported here. Pulled through a portal of some kind.” I held up my other hand. “I got this one too. Do you know what they mean?”

Kirala looked dumbstruck. “I…you were transported here?” She looked over at her equally shocked companion. “You really don’t know anything?”

I shook my head. This was starting to get a little frustrating. “Am I supposed to? Like I said, I was suddenly transported here. I was simply walking through the bus station, like every week, when this bright light appeared and sucked me in through what I guess was a portal. Next thing I knew, I’m here, with these marks. Until I heard this fight, I hadn’t seen anyone. It’s been a hell of a day already, and I’d really like some answers.”

“You…” began Tirelan, clearly struggling to get the words out, “you’re the Sword of Light, one of four heroes summoned by the king of Fulnar to defend against a coming evil.”

Alright, this has officially gone full crazy.

I held up a finger. “Okay. I think I need a minute to process this. Could you wait here, for a couple minutes? I left my bag down the hill.”

“Uh, sure.” She looked almost as confused as I felt. “We can wait here. I doubt more goblins will come by any time soon.”

I nodded, and set off at a quick walk. At least I now had a better idea of what sort of situation I found myself in; I’d watched enough anime and read enough fantasy novels to understand—though it didn’t make the reality of my situation any more believable. That was all fiction, and here I was, living it in real life. Unless I’d just fallen in the bus stop and hit my head really hard. Maybe I’d actually gotten hit by a truck, like happened to the protagonists of a couple Japanese isekai anime series I was vaguely familiar with—I’d only watched a couple myself, but I had a few friends who were big fans of the stuff—and was now in a hospital, hallucinating all of this.

Was that a better, or a worse reality? God only knew.

Well, this certainly felt real enough, and while I wasn’t ideal for this sort of thing, not really an expert in the genre, as it were, I was here, and I would make the best of it until I found a way home.

Thankfully, my bag was still where I’d left it, untouched as far as I could tell. I pulled it on, and got moving.

When I had proper time to rest, I’d go over what I had with me, try and get a sense of where I stood, supply-wise.

Good thing I packed extra stuff for the exercise. Dad’s advice to always be prepared paid off.

As I walked, I pulled out and unplugged my phone again, and began another short video log. “This is Uriel Makkis, ID Number 8940277, again, for my second log. I have encountered some of this world’s inhabitants, who somehow can understand English. They are not human, rather resembling the types of species seen in some fantasy settings, and at least some are capable of using magic. Additionally…I’ve been informed that I was apparently summoned here for some purpose, as the marks that appeared on my hands denote. I still do not know what all of this means, and I will attempt to record video evidence of more as I go forward here.” Unsure of what else to say, I ended this second recording, and put the phone away. At least I had some link to home, even if I couldn’t actually contact anyone. I would probably have to limit myself to one log per day, perhaps fewer, both because of the power limitations as well as phone storage space, but I had some time before that became a major issue. Once I logged the basics, there’d probably be less to record daily anyway.

Thankfully, my two new acquaintances—it felt a little too soon to call them friends—were still where I’d left them when I returned. They seemed to be gathering the dead goblins’ weapons and wrapping them in cloth, possibly to sell, and had already stacked the bodies. Did they mean to burn them?

I took a moment to fully take in the two of them. Both women looked young, probably roughly around my age or a bit younger. Kirala, the one with the cat ears, looked to have taken a moment to brush the dirt off her white and green robe, and had pulled a green and blue hood up over her head—leaving her ears poking through conveniently placed openings in it. The elf girl, Tirelan, was doing most of the work dealing with the goblin bodies.

“Thanks for waiting,” I said.

“Could I ask you something?” asked Kirala, her tail twitching as she finished wrapping the weapons bundle. “What…what sort of weapon is that?” She hesitantly pointed at my rifle. “Is that some sort of magic staff?”

“What, this?” I asked as I lifted it slightly, then removed the magazine and cleared the chamber using the charging handle—making sure to pick up the unused bullet that flew out as I did so. For a moment, I considered replacing the “meik porek,” the orange barrel blocker that currently hung off the side of the weapon, but decided against it. I’d been here less than an hour, and I’d already had to use it once. No sense advertising that it was completely harmless, not that anyone here would know that though. It did make me feel a bit more secure, so I let the weapon hang freely again as I considered how to properly answer the question, then held out the loose bullet. “Um, maybe think of it as a more powerful, more accurate, and more complicated bow and arrow. All combat personnel in the military back home have one.”

“But it was so loud.”

“That’s a product of how it works. So,” I went on, changing the subject, “is there a town or city somewhere nearby?” I’d already broken the “prime directive,” as it were, so I wasn’t worried about explaining things; to be honest, this felt more right than trying to not influence this place during my time here. However, I simply had no idea how to explain things to people who had no frame of reference to what I’d be saying. I’d eventually figure it out, God willing.

Kirala looked surprised again. “You…you don’t want to head right for the capital? They will be waiting, and…”

I shook my head. “Unless the world is going to end tomorrow, I have a little time. How far would it be?” I was not going to rush into becoming heavily involved in this world’s affairs quite yet, as exciting as some of this was.

“Traveling by foot, a very long time, but if you can hitch a ride even partway, then about five days, maybe four. You’re lucky you arrived where you did, and not all the way on the other side of the country.”

“So either way it’d take time, and to be honest, I need some time to process this.” That was at least mostly true.

“O-okay.” She sounded almost shocked by that. “We were heading over to Terrin’s Vale when we were attacked. There is a good inn there where you could stay the night, get food. It’s an elf village.”

Was that a problem? Or did they expect me to have a problem with that?

“That’d be just fine. Lead the way.”

Still looking surprised, or perhaps it was more confused—I couldn’t blame them, as I was still processing this—the two of them smiled, and they began to walk. There would be a lot to learn, and it was sounding like it might be some work to get proper answers, at least in regard to certain things. But I was certain to get better info from average people like them than I was from any sort of leaders.

“Where did you say you were from, again?” Tirelan asked. She’d neatened her light blue hair, so that now most of it hung behind her in a ponytail, while several strands remained in front, framing her inquisitive, purple eyes.

“My world is called Earth, and while I was born in a large country called the United States, I now live in a tiny one called Israel. Like I said before, I’m a soldier in its military.”

“And…are there people like us on your world?”

“No, only humans.” I immediately noted more confused expressions, likely stemming from my lack of reaction upon first seeing them. “How can I explain,” I added. “There are many fictional stories people tell, for recreation, that include people who look like you, so you aren’t, how should I say it, entirely new to me. Though seeing people like you, well, for real, certainly is.”

“I see. You seem to be handling…all this rather well.”

I shrugged. “Panic won’t help anyone, and I’ve always been good at adapting.”

What else was there to say? I wasn’t about to reveal that I was feeling much more apprehensive than I let on.

“What can you tell me about this world, this kingdom?” I asked. Information was what I needed, and quickly. “I know as little about it as you do about my world, and I’m here, so it’s more pressing, I think. What do you know about this threat you say I was summoned to fight?”

“I don’t know more than what the king told the public,” said Kirala. “Something about a once defeated demon king returning to the world—not yet, but soon. As for the kingdom, Fulnar is mostly human, and ruled by humans, but other people live in it too. It’s the biggest and most powerful country in the world.”

I nodded. I really needed to think, figure out what specific questions to ask. It was going to be hard to do that while schlepping my bag down this road.

After a few minutes of quiet walking through winding hills—I’d been far closer than I’d expected—the village came into sight. As it did, I realized I had another problem.

Crap.

I had no money that worked in this world, and I knew neither whether bartering was common here nor whether anything I was willing to part with could get me any significant amount of money.

“This is a nice looking place,” I commented as we approached, our pace slowing enough for me to talk.

“Really? It’s just a simple place that’s like any other small village. Surely, compared to where you’re from…”

“Unfortunately, in most places I’ve lived, practicality came before beauty. We don’t have many places that look like this on my world, not any more.”

As we grew ever closer, however, I noticed something else, something that set me on edge again. There were fields visible not far from the village, and it looked like there had been fires there recently. It reminded me too much of the damage I’d seen firsthand in fields near the Gaza border from fires caused by rockets and other forms of arson.

“What happened over there, in those fields?”

“Oh, it must’ve been more goblins,” said Tirelan. “There’s a large warren of them somewhere nearby, and there are roving raiding parties around that, in addition to attacking people, stealing cattle and crops, and burning fields.”

“Isn’t there an army to help stop that?”

My companions looked at each other, as though unsure how to answer. “We are on the outskirts of this side of the kingdom, and even though we’re not that far from the capital, the army is usually reserved for matters deemed more pressing.”

One of those situations. I nodded, but didn’t say anything more. I had to think a bit. It was possible my role in this world would start before learning what I’d been “officially” brought here for. I still needed more information before I could take any sort of major action. It figured that even in this world, there would be some problems similar to ones we faced back home.

We stopped a short while later, near what looked like a town square. There were a few two story buildings nearby, and one three story run, but the vast majority were low buildings made of wood and stone. At least most of them were painted in a variety of colors, so things didn’t look too monotonous or depressing.

“There’s a good inn over there,” said Kirala, pointing toward a large—for here, anyway—building. There was a sign on it in a language I didn’t recognize, but after a few seconds of focusing on it, it suddenly shifted to English. The Wanderer’s Waypoint, the inn was called. Apparently whatever magic allowed me to understand the people here also enabled me to read the local language. Convenient. And very useful. “You can get food, and a good room for the night, for good rates.”

“Um,” I cut in as I raised a finger, “now might be a good time to mention that I don’t have any money that’ll work here.”

“Oh, right!” Kirala replied, her face flushing as she raised her hand to it. “I should’ve known.”

She pulled a handful of coins out of a purse tied to her belt, and handed them to me. “These will be more than enough for a room, and a drink or two. We’ll happily treat you to dinner here, once we take care of some business.”

“Thanks,” I replied with a nod. “Though I would like to be able to not have to rely on gifts for long.”

“Don’t worry,” Tirelan said with a smirk. “The goblin blades we salvaged will fetch a decent price, and seeing as you saved us from them, I think it’s only fair you get that money.”

“Fair enough.” We were off to a decent start, at least; these two seemed trustworthy, and while I was always careful, I also had—I believed—reliable instincts. Those said to trust these two, at least until I had some reason not to. Trust, but verify. “See you later, then.”

They smiled and waved, then headed deeper into the town.

Alone, and realizing that the handful of people walking around were staring at me, I headed into the inn, which, fortunately, was empty apart from an elf standing behind the bar. It was still the afternoon, after all, so it made sense, I supposed.

“Good afternoon, traveler!” the bartender—or was innkeeper more accurate?—called. He looked fairly young, but I had no idea how elves aged, so I didn’t even try to guess. “We don’t get many humans here. What can I do for you?”

“For now, I just need a room for the night, and perhaps a drink. What do you recommend?”

I walked over to the bar, set my bag down, and sat on one of the stools.

“I’ve got a new light ale, good for casual drinking.”

“Let’s go with that, then.” Beers were basically always fine to drink, from a religious perspective, so I had some more time until I really needed to worry about what I could and could not eat here.

“That’ll be six drachan,” the innkeeper said as he brought the drink a minute later, “for both the drink and a room for the night.”

I looked at the coins in my hand, tried to make sense of them. Something else I should’ve asked my new friends. “Sorry, I’m…new here.” I set the coins down on the counter, and hoped he didn’t try to swindle me. I should’ve asked the others for more info on the money.

Fortunately, he only took several of the coins, then stopped as he saw the palm of my hand.

“Oh my, I didn’t expect to meet one of the Swords,” he said.

“Right now, I’m just Uriel, a tired traveler.” I smiled. “I’m not seeking anything for free.”

“Right, thank you, sir.” The innkeeper pocketed the coins and handed me a numbered key. “Room’s on the top floor, number will be on the door. It truly is an honor, Sir Sword.”

There was going to be much more of this, wasn’t there?

“A pleasure to meet you as well.”

Once I finished the drink, which was pretty good, as beers went, I headed upstairs, found the room, and tossed my bag on the bed.

It was no modern hotel room, but it looked comfortable enough. The mattress would do, and there was a small wash basin on a table next to it, along with a bronze mirror. The only restroom was probably outside. I grimaced at the thought, but I’d used outhouses before—and army port-a-potties were probably more gross than what I’d find here, to be honest.

I took a quick look out the window, which overlooked a cobblestone street below, then opened my bag and took stock.

I’d packed enough clothes for two weeks in the field, slightly more than I expected to need for the drill—assuming I didn’t change underclothes every day, at least, including both my pairs of work uniforms. I’d also packed plenty of toiletries—past experience had taught me to always pack more toilet paper than I expected I’d need. Toilet paper. I did not want to even think about running out of that while here. God willing, I’d find a way home quickly. In addition to that, and some basic medicines for colds, allergies, and the like, I had some soap and a few other clothing articles, along with my phone paraphernalia, which wasn’t going to be too useful here. All things considered, I was more prepared than nearly anyone else would be in a similar situation. So there was that, at least. I’d also come with a bit of reading material, including my army-issued Tanakh—Hebrew Bible. Between that and the siddur—prayer book—I had in my tefillin—phylacteries—bag, I at least had the basic religious necessities. Plus I had my cheap chanukkiah, and candles enough for the last two nights, along with a lighter.

In terms of equipment, I had my power bank and bluetooth speaker, both of which could come in handy. I also had my small tactical flashlight, which I could attach to my gun, a Leatherman multitool, a small pair of binoculars, sturdy combat gloves, my Ka-Bar, and gun cleaning kit. Not too much to work with, but I’d make it go as far as I could.

Since I had plenty of time, I changed to the better of my two sets of work uniforms, far more comfortable than the dress uniform, and, after a moment’s consideration, took my unit shoulder tag and put it on the shoulder of the work uniform. Normally we didn’t do that, but I liked the idea of wearing a second symbol of home, along with the Velcro flag patch on my right arm and the unit Velcro patch on my left. It would’ve been better if I had my army cap, but that had been left on base. Still, I wasn’t about to complain. I also kept my beret slotted through my left epaulet, then shifted my bag over, stood my gun up against the wall, and laid back on the bed. I’d definitely slept on worse.

So, here I was, and this was really happening. I was really stuck in some fantasy-type world, and I was apparently marked as some sort of chosen one, or something similar. At least that came with some perks, since it was certainly going to also bring with it dangers, paint a target on my back. Complaining wouldn’t help anything, though. I’d just have to toughen up and deal with it.

Luckily, I was smarter and better equipped than most people who, in fictional stories, of course, have ended up in similar situations. I had skills gained in the army, those gained from experiences with my family back in Pennsylvania, along with more general knowledge I brought from my time—and place. Thank God both my parents were avid outdoorspeople who’d believed in teaching their kids basic—and some not so basic—skills useful in survival situations. I’d have to thank them, again, when I made it back to them.

Although, I did note, heroes in those stories tended to conveniently get more information and guidance right away.

You win some, you lose some.

It must’ve been winter here too, despite the temperate weather—or seasons simply worked differently—as it got dark fairly quickly.

As it did, I set up the Hanukkah candles, and, after closing my eyes for a moment to think of my family, friends, and nation left behind, said the blessings and lit the seven candles.

I stood there in silence for I don’t know how long, until a knock at the door jarred me from my melancholy.

“Come in,” I called, still facing the candles and the window, “it’s not locked.” I turned just enough to see the door. Just in case.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Kirala said as she tentatively entered. “And I’m sure you must be hungry by now.”

“That is definitely true,” I replied, returning her smile with one of my own.

Her eyes moved past me, to the candles. “What are those candles? If it’s okay to ask.”

I gestured for her to come closer. “Tonight is the seventh night of a holiday my people observe. It lasts eight nights, and each night we light the corresponding number of candles, along with a special blessing. It primarily commemorates a war the righteous among my people won, over two thousand years ago, against both traitors and foreign oppressors. It’s a special one to me, both because I was—am—fortunate enough to be a part of my people’s first army in almost two thousand years, and because this is a story of our strength and bravery—values too many of my people have lost.” I stopped myself before going on. There was no need to get into religious or political details, after all.

“Sorry,” I said, “I don’t mean to bore you, nor dwell too much on what I’ve left behind, but it’s not easy.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she said, looking right at me as she placed a hand on my arm. “I can only imagine how hard it must be. But,” she added with a smile, “had you not been brought here, I, and Tirelan, would probably be dead.”

That was true.

“There is a saying among my people, which more or less goes, ‘he who saves a life, it is as though he saved an entire world.’ If the only reason I was brought here was to save the two of you, then I think we can say it has already been worthwhile. And I’ve been here less than a day. Nothing happens without a reason, even if I don’t understand it, and it’s foolish to focus only on what could have been, or anything so completely outside my control as this. I trust in God, and press on.”

Kirala was staring at me, eyes wide, but before she said anything, my stomach rumbled.

“Maybe we should get down and eat something,” I said with a laugh.

“Yes, let’s,” she said. After another look back at the still burning candles, I picked up my gun, slung it over my shoulder, and we left the room and headed downstairs—after I locked the door, of course. Never hurt to be careful.

The common area of the inn was entirely different now, and full of life. There were dozens of people seated at the various tables, talking and laughing, eating and drinking. It almost reminded me of the dining rooms on bases I’d served on.

I was still the only human here; I saw plenty more elves, and others with animal-like ears and tails, like Kirala.

Conversation didn’t stop, fortunately, as I entered the room proper, but I could feel things slow a bit for several long moments, and many eyes turned my way.

Tirelan was waiting for us, sitting at a small table, and I focused on her, ignoring the curious stares.

By the time Kirala and I sat down, the volume level had returned to normal, and I felt fewer stares on me.

“It’s going to take some time to get used to that,” I said.

The two of them smiled sheepishly. “I wish there was something we could do about that, but that ship’s kind of sailed,” Kirala said. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you as best I can.”

“I appreciate it. I’ll consider that repayment for helping you out earlier.”

“Oh no, that wouldn’t be a fair exchange.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’m not going to force that. Though I truly don’t need repayment. I simply did what was right, what any man in my situation should have done.”

“Why don’t we save that for another time,” Tirelan cut in. “I, for one, am hungry. Getting healed earlier only made me more so.”

I nodded. “So what sort of food is served here?” I asked. This would be where I started to figure out what I’d be able to eat—or whether I’d have to forgo Jewish dietary laws altogether in order to survive.

“Well,” Kirala said, “since we’re in an elf village, and the owner here is an elf, and they don’t eat meat, it’s a little limited. Fish, fruits, vegetables, and bread, hopefully,” she went on, counting off on her fingers.

“Sounds like plenty of options to me.” In more ways than one. “In fact, fish sounds perfect right now. What sort of fish, do you know?”

She shrugged. “Whatever river fish the innkeeper managed to buy. There isn’t a whole lot of variety, to be honest.”

I nodded, and took a glance around, spotting some other people eating fish that definitely looked alright by me. The laws regarding kosher fish were very simple. If it had fins and scales, it was okay, and it didn’t have to be slaughtered in a particular way, as meat and poultry did.

Tirelan flagged over someone I supposed was working as a waitress, a young girl with foxlike ears and long reddish hair, plus a fluffy tail.

It was going to take some time to get completely used to that sort of thing.

“Why don’t you two pick out something for me? You know more about what there is that I do, after all. I had a light ale earlier that was pretty good too. Think that’ll serve well now also.” Just a little alcohol, to help ease the stress, marking the second time in my army service—both today—where I was drinking while in uniform.

No NCOs or military police here though. A small benefit.

Once the two of them gave our orders, I got to business.

“So, I’ve got a few questions.”

“I’m happy to answer as best I can,” Kirala said as the drinks arrived, then took a measured sip of her drink as her catlike ears twitched slightly.

Wonder what that means.

“First, apart from that money from those salvaged weapons, what can I do to earn money? I can’t expect to get treated to meals by people I’ve saved every day, after all, and I’ll need other supplies before long too. Any suggestions?”

“Nothing comes to mind right away, but I’ll try and think of something. I’m sure that once you get to the capital, the king will surely give you the funding you’ll need to ready yourself to start training so you can protect the world though. Are you planning to head that way tomorrow?”

How did she sound like she wanted me to go, but also didn’t want me to, at the same time?

To keep things interesting, I shook my head. “Like I said earlier, I want to take this slow. Also…I wanted to find out more about the situation here. The goblin one. Don’t try and downplay it. It’s clearly far more serious than some roving groups and occasional raids, isn’t it?”

I took a small sip of my ale. The slight kick was definitely welcome.

Kirala looked away for a moment. “Yeah, it is. The nest I mentioned, it’s massive, and raids have started to be larger and more frequent. But why are you so interested in that? You’re…you’re one of the Swords, meant to stop the demon king, not worry about goblin attacks on some countryside villages.”

“Well I don’t know what sort of heroes you were told to expect, but I do worry about it. I want to know everything about the situation. Let me decide what I want to and need to do.”

“Alright, everything,” Tirelan said. “In addition to the goblin warren being massive, there’s something smarter leading them. The raids have been getting worse; larger, and better coordinated. The attack today, the one you stopped, has become a common thing. Goblins generally don’t like coming out in daylight; the fact that we’ve been seeing more daylight attacks, even small ones…it can’t be good.”

“And you said that the army can’t or won’t help.”

“They have more pressing matters to combat.” Kirala was looking increasingly nervous. “Listen, Uriel, I am really, really grateful for your offer to help, but we can manage, and I don’t want to delay you from traveling to the capital any more than necessary. I hear the other Swords have already arrived, and the king will be expecting you. I don’t know how it works in your world, but here it’s not really a good idea to keep the king waiting.”

There was clearly something there that she wasn’t comfortable being completely honest about. Although, I realized, this was a much more primitive society than any I knew, at least in some respects. Why would it be shocking to hear that the king had a temper or something like that? I was tempted to push for more information, but I decided not to risk making my only friends—if they could be called that yet, considering we’d just met a few hours ago—more uncomfortable than they already were regarding this.

“Alright, enough of that for now,” I said, taking another sip as I saw the serving girl, trays in hand, approach our table again. “I’ll keep further questions to other topics.”

I’d decide what I would do, once I had some more information. An irritated king didn’t overly concern me.

Kirala visibly relaxed somewhat, and a moment later Tirelan arched an eyebrow at me as the food arrived. “Well you’re certainly much more relaxed, and comfortable, than you were earlier.”

I shrugged. “I think I’ve finally accepted the complete reality that I’m in now. Changing to my work uniform also helped.” Noting a look of confusion, I explained. “In my army, we get two uniforms. One, a nicer one, to wear while out traveling, and at special ceremonies, and another, this one, for use while working or in combat.”

“You do not wear armor?” Tirelan asked.

“Oh, we do. Armored vests and helmets. I didn’t have mine with me when I was brought here, though. We don’t wear full body armor, because anything strong enough to protect us from our sort of weapons would be too bulky and heavy for us to wear in battle.”

“I see. Your world sounds very interesting, and strange.”

I couldn’t help but smirk. “It is. Although, I feel much the same about yours.”

My stomach growled again, now keenly aware of the hot, spicy-smelling fish before me. I cut a piece, and took a taste.

It was very good, spicy enough to have strong flavor without being overwhelming. I handled hot foods better than a lot of my native Israeli comrades had expected, but I did have my limits.

“So,” I said to Kirala after a few minutes of quiet eating, “I saw you used what I assume to be magic earlier. That is something that doesn’t exist, at all, in my world. How does it work, how does someone gain access to it? Is it something you’re born with, can anyone learn how, or does one gain the ability some other way?”

She got an excited spark in her eyes at the questions; it was clear this was something she liked talking about.

“One has to be either born with the talent or granted it by some artifact, or some other magical object. Almost everyone you’ll meet who can use magic was born with the ability, though to become at all skilled requires a lot of work.” Her eyes shifted to my right hand, which had the sunburst symbol marking me as the Sword of Light. From the stories I’ve heard about the Swords, you are all granted a magical ability when summoned here.”

“Really? How would I try to use it?”

For some reason, hearing something like that sounded totally unbelievable to me. It was dumb to feel that way, given what I’d already accepted as my crazy reality, but to think that I could use magic? Suddenly I felt a bit more excited about my current situation. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

“Let me demonstrate,” Kirala said. She held out her hand, muttered what I presumed was a spell: “Protect me,” and a soft yellow glow enveloped her hand.

“There aren’t a whole lot of specifics when it comes to this sort of thing,” she said. “I mean, you can find tomes with lists of spells for different types of magic, especially for the more common types, but it really comes down to what type of it you can use and how you make use of your will, plus the words. The spell I just cast was a small personal shielding spell.” She pulled out a small knife with her non-glowing hand, and thrust it into her glowing one. However, it stopped millimeters short of her skin.

So cool.

“So, if I was to guess, given that you’ve called me the Sword of Light, that the abilities I have access to are related to the manipulation of light?”

She shrugged. “I think so. Light magic is extremely rare. I don’t know much about it; have never met anyone who could use it. Until today,” she added with a smile.

I looked at my hand with the mark on it. “So I just visualize what I want to do and say words that would lead to that outcome?”

“To put it simply, yes.”

“Alright then. Sounds almost too simple.”

I imagined a ball of light hovering over my open hand. “Light,” I said.

Nothing happened.

“Glow.”

Still nothing.

“Light up.”

Again, nothing.

Don’t I feel silly now.

“Any idea why this isn’t working?” I asked. “I don’t feel anything, either.”

“Are you using the right language, for yourself?” asked Tirelan as she refocused her attention on us from the serving girl, who she’d had bring her another glass of wine. “Now, I don’t have any gift for magic,” she continued after taking a sip, “but I do remember hearing from elves who can use magic that it only works for them when they use our language, elvish, for the spells. If they try the same words in the human or demi-human tongue, it just won’t work.”

I looked to Kirala.

She shrugged. “I use the common tongue just fine, and my people have had no other language.”

Interesting.

“Well,” I said as I thought aloud, “the language I’m speaking now was what I grew up speaking.” I didn’t know how English compared with the local language, whether it was somehow the same or whatever magic that brought me here was translating in real time, both ways. “However, I do know another, albeit not completely fluently, that is the ancestral language of my people.” Suddenly, it seemed almost stupidly obvious, and without hesitation I held the same vision in my mind, looked at my open hand, and spoke.

“Vaheyi ohr.” Let there be light, straight from the first chapter of the Torah.

Immediately, I felt a rush of energy, a pleasant, powerful feeling flow through me, something that reminded me of when I’d first fired a gun. At the same moment, a small sphere of white light appeared over my hand.

I couldn’t help but stare at it, dumbstruck, and probably with a stupid smile on my face. I could also sense the ball of light, in a way, which made sense, as it had to be linked to me somehow, for it to remain. It tried to will it larger, but failed. After a few seconds, following instinct, I let go of the light, and it faded away.

“Now that, was cool,” I said. “Even though all I did was do something my flashlight could do, and probably less effectively.”

Come to think of it, of all the magical abilities I could’ve gotten, light was kind of lame. No fireballs, no lightning, no boulders or waves of water. But I had this for a reason, and I would find ways to make it useful. I shouldn’t be complaining, not when I could do magic.

“What’s a flashlight?”

Oh, right.

I pulled out the small flashlight, pulled it out of its little case, and held it out. “It’s a…device that creates light.” I made sure to aim it carefully away from anyone’s face, and away from where others in the room would see it, then clicked it on. Tirelan gasped as the extremely bright light appeared on the table.

“I could demonstrate it better at night,” I said with a laugh. “Then it’d be really impressive.”

“How…how does it work?”

“I don’t know how I could properly explain it, but it’s not magic.” How did I explain modern technology to them, when they had no frame of reference?

“Can I hold it?” asked Kirala, her hand already tentatively reaching toward the flashlight.

“Sure, just be careful not to shine it in someone’s eyes. Also try not to point it across the room. I don’t need any more attention yet.”

After several moments of hesitation, Kirala took hold of the flashlight, and I let go. Slowly, she moved it a little bit, the light dancing across our table. “This is incredible! There are more things like this in your world?”

“Oh yes,” I said as she handed it back, and I realized that this would be a good way to pretend like I was better with my light magic now than I actually was. “Many, many things. I can show you another one, if you’d like.”

“Please!” Kirala exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.

Conscious that I shouldn’t overuse it, I pulled out my cell phone, unlocked it with the facial recognition interface.

“Now this is…well, it can do a lot of things, including storing and playing music and images. Here,” I added as I pulled up my photos and maneuvered it so both of the girls could see the screen, “this is a picture of me and my crew, with our tank.”

“Your what?” Kirala asked as she stared at the picture.

“The big metal thing we’re standing on is called a tank,” I repeated. “Me and the three soldiers under my command take it into battle. How can I explain it…it’s like an armored carriage, or chariot, immune to most weapons, and it carries several weapons far, far more powerful than the one I carry. It’s a wonderful, wonderful war machine.”

Unfortunately, this made me miss both it and my crew even more, though it made both women all the more impressed and fascinated. It was almost a pity I was religious and not the type of guy to go out chasing girls all the time.

No one would know what you do here, said a voice in the back of my mind.

I would though, and so would God.

I had to stay true to myself, despite the insane situation.

Still, no harm came from a little showing off.

We spent the next two hours or so talking, me mostly letting them ask questions about my world—I was now officially obligated to show it to them when and if I found a way home and they were able to come along. Things seemed to flow easier this way, and there would be time to learn more about this world starting tomorrow.

When I decided to finally call it an evening, I was pleased to note that I hadn’t overly taxed my electronics, so my power bank would suffice for now. I would have to keep careful track though, if I intended to keep the phone useful for my logs and other tasks.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” I asked after taking two minutes to silently recite the grace after meals.

“Unfortunately,” said Tirelan, “I’ll be departing early; I have a job escorting a merchant back the way we came.”

“I thought the two of you were traveling together.”

They looked at each other. “I hired her to help escort me today,” Kirala said with a shrug, “but she was already committed to this other contract for tomorrow. Considering how good a drop those goblins got on us, she did wonderfully.”

“You need someone to escort you though, don’t you?”

“Yes, well,” she smiled sheepishly, face flushing, “I was thinking, that you need money, I need an escort, and you’re clearly quite capable of keeping me safe, so I thought I’d hire you. I’ll be heading to a town on the way to the capital, so you’d be able to travel that way at a slower pace, like you said you wanted.”

Oh. She’d really thought this through, hadn’t she?

“Sure, I’ll do it.” She was pleasant, quite pleasant to be around.

“Great! I’ll meet you here in the morning then.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I offered my hand to Tirelan. “Until we meet again, I guess.”

“Until we meet again. And thank you, again, for what you did earlier.”

“It was the right thing to do. You don’t owe me anything.”

She smirked. “I’ll find a way to repay you anyway.” With that, she nodded again, then departed.

“I guess we’ll meet here in the morning, then?” I said to Kirala, noticing for the first time that the room as a whole had largely quieted. I really had to stop letting myself get overwhelmed or distracted; I was normally very observant of my surroundings.

“Yeah,” she said, hesitating for a moment. “We can eat something here, then set off. Well, good night then.” She smiled, then yawned, then laughed. “Guess I really am tired.”

“Good night,” I replied, returning the gesture, and after another couple seconds, she turned and headed out. Well, tomorrow would certainly be interesting.

I headed back up, locked my door and got ready for bed. For my first night on this alien world.

One step at a time.