When I jumped inside the vortex, everything went black for a moment. Then, I opened my eyes — I found myself falling through a wormhole surrounded by clockwork. Panic surged through my veins as I tried to grasp anything to hold on to.
At the end of the wormhole, I saw a white dot. Was that my destination? I braced myself for impact as I wrapped my hands around myself.
Upon reaching the white dot, I was sucked out of the wormhole, landing on the solid ground below on my back.
Thud!
"Ouch..."
I rubbed my back as I took in the environment around me. This place... this wasn't the France I knew; we were back in the medieval era. My jaw dropped as I tried to process what had just happened.
Suddenly, I felt a humming sound from my bag. I opened it to find the gospel glowing; I had never seen it react like this before.
I opened the inside to find that most of the pages were now completely blank except for the first page. On it read — 'May 8, 1429'.
"Am I... stranded in the past?"
As panic started to overwhelm me, I suddenly heard footsteps, the sounds getting closer each time. I turned around to see the figure now behind me — it was him.
"You look frightened. It's kinda amusing."
He extended his hand to me, and I was torn between accepting his help and finding a way out myself. But I knew it would be foolish to do so. I decided to accept his hand as he helped me to my feet.
"Where did you take me, you sick bastard?"
He stepped aside.
"Take a look for yourself."
I looked at him with uncertainty, but it wasn't the best time for debate then. I stepped forward, and I saw it — a battlefield with corpses, gunpowder, and wildfire.
Reynald stood beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
"Friend, let me welcome you to Orléans, May 1429. The bloody Hundred Years' War."
My pupils shrank, and I looked at him with confusion and uneasiness. 1429? What was I doing in the fifteenth century? This had to be a setup, an illusion perhaps.
"You're lying... how did we end up here, are you saying we—"
He cut me mid-sentence.
"—time travel. Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying."
I stepped away from him and started pacing around. Everywhere I looked, everything felt real. But how could it be?
"No... but that's not possible..."
He walked beside me.
"Anything is possible with the gospel, my friend. Anything."
He opened his bag and pulled out the gospel and the quill. He started writing something on it.
"Speaking of which, we need a disguise."
Reynald tore the page he was writing on in two. He then threw the papers into the sky as they suddenly grew larger in size, turning into white clothes that enveloped our bodies.
Our seemingly modern clothing turned into fifteenth-century white robes — was this what he meant by disguise?
"Is this your idea of disguise?" I asked.
Reynald shrugged.
"As long as it works."
Suddenly, I heard footsteps approaching — many footsteps. I turned to see a group of French soldiers walking toward us.
Reynald placed his hand on the hilt of his sword — we were strangers in this era, and any wrong move would not end with pleasantries.
One of the soldiers came forward. He was riding a horse; he seemed to be the captain of the group.
"Civilians, this is a warzone. Return to safety immediately."
It seemed that the disguise worked. However, now we were left with two choices — comply or flee and escalate the matter at hand. I hoped this cunning dimwit wouldn't mess things up.
—Penning a new chapter…