Everything has changed.
After Grace led me out of the stone field, which she said is called a "parking lot", I arrive at a road. I call it a road because this used to be a road, but it's not like anything I have seen.
Instead of stone tiles, the new road is covered in this black, gravel-like material and has white stripes going along the middle. The strange carriages I saw earlier zoom past me on these roads at speeds succeeding horses by many folds. The noise is also on another level. Even an army of a thousand men is quieter than this.
People walk by while holding the small, rectangular devices I saw before, but now they aren't pointing them at anything, but simply staring at them like they are books.
The buildings have also seemingly rebirthed. The wooden walls and thatched roofs are gone. Now replaced by brick walls so neatly organized that they don't look like bricks anymore. Huge glass windows, which I only remember seeing in the royal castle in small sizes, cover the sides of these buildings. As for the roofs, well, the buildings are now so tall that I can't even see the roofs.
However, even though these buildings are baffling, they can't be compared to the absolutely insane beams I see over them. Some distance away, I can see such high towers they look like they have pierced the clouds. All of them are almost completely made of glass. How can such fragile material support these architectural miracles? Such feats are nowhere imaginable during my time, in fact, nothing at all here is anywhere imaginable.
Grace noticed my gaping mouth and flabbergasted expression, along with the other passing pedestrians, who glance at me like I am some strange creature.
"This must be a lot for you," Grace says while we are standing on the side of the road, on top of a smaller one that is apparently built exclusively for walking.
"Yeah..." (James)
"A lot has changed. You are going to need some getting used to." (Grace)
"Yeah…" (James)
"I promised that I will help you. Even though when I made that promise I didn't know you were Sir Freaking Ferson, I plan on keeping that promise." (Grace)
"That would be nice… wait, why did you call me Freaking?" (James)
"Just, don't mind it. Let's start with the basics. The vehicles moving around are called cars. The towers in the distance are skyscrapers. The things flying above us are planes." (Grace)
There is no way I can remember all of these new words since they don't really hold any meaning. I want Grace to slow down a little, but before I can say anything, Grace waves at an incoming yellow "car", which then stops beside us.
"Come with me. It's a lot easier to talk alone." (Grace)
Grace walks toward the stopped car and pulls a handle on the side. With a clicking sound, the backside of the machine swings open. In it is a wide leather seat. Grace ducks and enters the car while inviting me to join her.
Hesitantly, I duck my head and sit down beside Grace after she has scooted over to the other side.
"Close the door behind you." (Grace)
I look back at the door and see a handle on the inside as well. Assuming that it is what I am supposed to grab on to, I reach out and pull the door close. With a slamming sound, the noise of the outside world immediately becomes muffled.
"Where are we heading?" (Driver)
The voice surprised me. I look over to see two separate leather seats in front of me. On the right one is a middle-aged man with his hands on a disc-like object attached to the interiors of the car. I guess he is similar to a stagecoach driver.
"1846 Locklan Street, please." (Grace)
"Sure thing, miss." (Driver)
Then, the driver moves a stick beside him and I feel like I was thrown back into the seat. From the glass windows, I can see that we have started moving.
There is silence as we zoom through the cityscape, during which reality has finally set it.
The ruckus has gotten my mind so preoccupied that I didn't notice until now. There is no going back.
My friends, my soldiers, my king, have all been left behind in the distant past, and there is no way back.
Since we were under the constant threat of war, the thought of having everything taken from us is not a rare one, but having it happen for real is truly devastating.
However, knowing that because of my sacrifice, those people got to live on just a little longer comforts me somewhat.
I didn't have any close friends to begin with. Most people revered me, so none really tried to approach me, with the exception of Albert, since he was a friend from my childhood.
The fact that I will no longer see anyone I know again is still quite depressing nonetheless.
"You a cosplayer?" The driver breaks the silence and asks me amicably.
Not knowing what the proper answer is, I look over to Grace for help. She nods.
"Y-Yeah…" (James)
"Who are you supposed to be?" (Driver)
He is probably talking about the "role-playing" thing I heard from other people.
"Sir James Ferson." (James)
"Haha, really? Well, you're gonna have to wait a couple more years, sonny," the driver laughs at my answer.
"Right." (James)
Obviously, he is wrong, but I can't tell him that.
Grace chuckles dryly beside me.
"Well, anyway, we are here, 1846. That would be 7.54 dollars," the driver says while moving the stick again as we come to a stop.
It doesn't seem like a long time has passed, but remembering how fast these "cars" are, I stop trying to question it.
"Thanks." (Grace)
Grace says while taking a small, foldable pouch out of her pocket. She opens it and hands over a piece of paper which she got from the pouch to the driver. There is a face drawn on that paper that looks vaguely similar to King Eventyr, but he's not quite the man I knew.
"Keep the change." (Grace)
"Much appreciated." (Driver)
This interaction is so strange that I forget the fact that I should try to stay inconspicuous. Now that I remember, Grace says she is a descendent of Alber Rosenshire, whose family is really rich or something, even after over 400 years. Is it possible his ideas weren't that stupid after all?
"What is that?" I ask while pointing to that piece of paper.
"I'm sorry?" The driver looks at me strangely.
"It's nothing. Come on, James, let's go," Grace dismisses my question.
She opens the door on her side and gets up out of the car. I move over and follow behind her.
After we get back onto the side of the road, Grace closes the door and waves goodbye at the driver. The car glows under the midday sun as it drives away.
"This is my house. Let's head in quick. There is a lot I want to talk about." (Grace)
Grace sounds excited. I turn around and see a building different from the other ones I've seen. Most other buildings are long and stretch along the whole street while composed of slices. The one in front of me right now is a standalone manor. I look around and realize all the houses in this area are of the same shape. We are probably in another part of the city, like a noble district or something.
"We don't need to worry about anyone else. I live alone, you know?" Grace says with a sense of pride in her voice.
After seeing no response on my face, Grace continues.
"Oh, right, that's probably not that impressive for you. I'm sure girls you know that are my age are probably married already." (Grace)
There is not much I can say or do other than nodding.
"Well, just so you know, in the time we are now, most girls don't leave their family until the age of 18."
Grace looks a little down now that she lost an opportunity to impress me.
"Really? Why did you leave your family then?" (James)
"I've decided to get more independent. Also, I don't really get along with my family." (Grace)
"Nice?" (James)
"It's supposed to be really impressive, you know? For a girl like me to live alone." (Grace)
Grace pouts.
"Good to know." (James)
Looking like she has given up, Grace walks up the stairs to the entrance of her house. She takes out a key from her pocket and unlocks the door.
"Come in," Grace says while walking inside and holding the door open for me.
I walk through the entrance and Grace closes the door behind me.
Much like the outside, the interior of this house is in a completely different style than the one I am used to.
The barracks I lived in had dirt floors and walls made of planks. There was nothing but a thatch bed and a small wooden table inside. But Grace's house intensely reminds me that I am now in the future.
The floor looks to be an impossibly polished marble. The walls are snow white and the room is filled with decorations and furniture. Most of them serve unknown purposes. There is even what looks like a blanket of animal fur under some of the tables.
"First of all, let's get you changed. You stand out like a sore thumb in that archaic armor." (Grace)
It sure is an odd feeling to be referred to as archaic.
"Take off your boots." (Grace)
I feel like that's an unusual request, but I comply.
"Alright, follow me." (Grace)
After taking off her shoes, Grace walks up a flight of stairs on the left side of the hallway. I walk behind her.
She enters a room covered in a soft, fur-like flooring, which feels very nice to step on. The walls are bright pink and there is a huge bed in the middle with what seems to be toy animals made with high-level craftsmanship piled on top.
"Is this your chamber?" (James)
"Chamber? Oh, yeah. It's called a bedroom now, because, well, it's a room for the bed." (Grace)
There are some unnecessary changes to the language. Why couldn't they just continue calling it a chamber?
"I don't have any boy clothes, but go ahead and pick out what you'd like." (Grace)
Grace opens the door to another room within her bedroom. In it are an array of clothes hanging on some metal bars. I walk in and Grace closes the door, but not quite completely, leaving a crack. It's probably for the air to get it. I look around to see what there is. They are mostly dresses, but there are some tunics and trousers.
There is a drawer in the corner of the room. I open it to see what's in it. There are some strange items. I hold them up to check what they are. One seems like an extremely short pair of trousers, not even enough to cover one's thighs. It's pink and semi-transparent. The other is a pair of soft pads linked by a strip of fabric.
"Whoa, please put those back," Grace yells flusteredly while swinging the door open.
"Oh, sorry." (James)
I put them back in the drawer and close it.
"It's fine, just stick with the other ones," Grace says and closes the door, again, not completely.
I pick out a white outfit and decide they should do. After I unequip my chainmail, I hear a quiet whimper from the other side of the door, but I pay no mind to it.
It is quite difficult, but I manage to get into the clothes I chose. I open the door to find a red-faced Grace.
"Are you alright?" (James)
"W-What? Y-Yeah, I'm fine." (Grace)
Grace averts her gaze.
"Does this fit the norm?" I ask while extending my arms to the sides.
"Hm," Grace mumbles without even looking at me.
"Good. Now, what did you want to discuss?" (James)
"Oh, right. Um, go wait on the couch, I will go bring some snacks. You must be tired and hungry," Grace says and points to a wide seat beside the bed.
It's somewhat similar to the one in the car, but this one looks much more comfortable and of higher quality.
She then walks out of the room.
I am not really tired or hungry, but I don't plan on turning down snacks, either, so I walk over to the "couch" while not saying anything.
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