As I awoke at dawn for my second day in this new world, I was only slightly shocked to see claws instead of hands. Look at that, only two days in and I’m already going native.
In the crisp morning air, I once again made my way to the point where I could look at the village in the distance. I sat there for a few minutes watching as little dots began moving about between the buildings, the signs of a village waking up with the sun.
Locking the general direction that I needed to head into my mind, I made my way back down the tree to the forest floor, trying not to aggravate my injured wing. As I set off once more through the underbrush, it turned out a few miles takes a long time to get through when trudging through completely untracked forest.
My pace was only slowed further by the need to clamber up a tree every now and then to make sure that I was still heading in the right direction. Despite my precautions, I still wound up being turned around twice as I attempted to pick my way in what the sun's path told me was westwards.
It took me the entire morning, but eventually I broke through the treeline onto the boundary of the cleared lands surrounding the village. Now that I was much closer I could take a better look at the place. It must have been only a mile away, and with my improved eyesight I was able to make out the movement of the villagers going about their day. There must have been about three dozen structures in the whole village, and I watched the handful of folk in the village walk or take flight as they moved between the buildings.
Wait just a minute there, take flight?
Sure enough I watched as one figure launched themselves into the air to cross over the village without having to weave through the buildings.
Ok then.
Maybe my joke about a village of griffons wasn't the most far-fetched thing in the world after all.
Since it was in the middle of the working day, the population of the village would mostly be out in the fields, and I was bound to run across someone on my way towards the village. I set off through the fields towards the village, reflecting that it was time to see what this world had in store for me.
As I passed by the fields I could see that the population of the village was in fact composed solely of griffons, as they went about their business tending the fields. It was a bit of a shock to the system seeing what I considered creatures of might and myth a few days ago doing ordinary farmwork, but I was far more ecstatic than I had thought I would be at the revelation that I would not be condemned to being just a smarter-than-average animal in this world.
The village folk were quick to notice the armed stranger staring at them as they worked. I watched as the first one to look up and see me standing there had their beak open a bit, before quickly flitting over to another griffon to urgently speak to them.
This commotion caught the attention of the rest of the workers, and I stood there as they began talking among each other. From the glances they kept throwing my way, I could tell that my presence made them uncomfortable, so I endeavored to keep my claws well away from my sword while I waited to be approached.
As it would turn out, that would not be long at all, as I watched the one who had first noticed me and the one she had spoken to start flying towards me.
On their approach I idly noted that griffons in this world were not confined to being just the traditional mix of the white feathers of the eagle and golden lion fur like mine. Instead these two had light grey fur on their bodies, looking almost like a snow leopard without the spots. The head on the male was covered in brown feathers, while the griffoness’ had darker feathers that reminded me of a raven or a crow.
They landed on the trail in front of me, and after a brief assessment during which I couldn’t help but notice their gaze was drawn to the sword strapped to my side, the older looking male griff spoke first.
“Who exactly might you be stranger, and what are you doing in our village?” the griffon demanded of me in a low, even tone.
“Hello there good sir. My name is Geralt, and I happened to come across your village as I made my way out from the forest.” I tried to put the fellow’s mind at ease. “I’ve been in the woods for a few days now, and I am only looking for a place to rest for a while.”
I couldn’t really blame him for his suspicions. With the apparent presence of bandits in the area he had every reason to be wary of someone strange wandering into town, with a weapon on their hip no less.
“So you say, but you’ll forgive an old griff for not being convinced by a few honeyed words.” The hard eyes didn’t soften, and his grip was still tight on his pitchfork.
“If you are worried that I am part of the local banditry ring, you can put those fears to rest.” I could see his eyes narrow at the mentions of the bandits, so I quickly added. “And if you’re wondering about how I knew about the bandits, I found this bounty posted by one ‘Lord Silas’ about them.”
Pulling the paper from my saddlebag, I moved to hand it over to him but the younger female griffon took it from me instead.
Seeing the confusion on my face, she explained. “My father was never taught to read that well, but I have been taking some lessons from the local healer, and my letters have gotten quite good if I do say so myself.”
She spent a few minutes looking over the bounty posting before returning it to me. “Yep, that's a bounty posting already, seal looks right as well, so it's probably real.”
Once more the middle-aged griff looked at the sword at my side, but his gaze had softened considerably. “So, might you be here to take care of those bandits for us?” his voice sounded hopeful, but sadly I had to disappoint him.
“Unfortunately no, I’m already injured and in no condition to go tracking down a bandit camp on my own. I only found this posting by chance while in the forest.” With all this talk of bandits, I felt it might be best if I kept the fact that I had taken it off of a dead griff to myself.
“I can pay for housing and food as well, if you will let me stay in the village for a while before moving on.”
At the promise of coin, the remaining tension in the air dissipated like mist in the sun. The griff smiled, which I didn’t know was possible with a beak before now.
“I appreciate the extra coin, lord knows we need it, and we could hardly leave you stuck outside to be murdered in the night could we now!” The fellow ended with a barking laugh and gestured for me to follow him with his wing.
Lodgings secured, I obligingly followed the two of them towards the village. The young griffoness immediately fell in beside me to strike up a conversation now that friendly relations had been established.
“Hi there, my name is Cynthia,” the young lady introduced herself. “So… you said you came from the forest, but where did you come from originally then Geralt?”
“Uhh… I’ve travelled pretty far from home, I don’t think you would have heard of it before.” I wasn’t really sure what to say in this situation, since I probably couldn’t say that I was a dimensional traveler that had been dumped into this world on a cosmic whim.
“Really! Are you some kind of adventurer? How’d you end up in the eastern forest then? I didn’t think there was any roads running through those woods.”
“Well, the truth of the matter is that I just woke up yesterday morning in the woods without a clue how I wound up there.” I ran my claws through the feathers on the back of my head. “One moment I was sleeping in my own bed, a storm blowing as I drifted off to sleep, then the storm swept into my house and poof! Here I am.” I waved a claw about in the air to punctuate my point.
Well my efforts to try and act normal lasted about twenty seconds. I hardly think that ‘I randomly woke up around here’ would qualify as a valid excuse, and certainly -
Oblivious to my racing mind Cynthia responded with sympathy evident in her voice. “Oh, you got caught up in a chaos storm, that’s awful! At least you were lucky enough to end up so close to someplace civilized, things could have gone really badly for you otherwise out there.”
“Chaos storm? What on earth are you talking about?” I asked her, confused. At least my story apparently held water in this magical world.
“Did you take a tumble in the woods back there boy? How do you not know about the remnants of chaos?” the older griff turned his head to join in the conversation. “Name’s Gunther, by the way. Village eldergriff.”
The blank look on my face must have been obvious, because Gunther sighed and began an explanation. “Even after the chaos crisis ended a little over a year ago, sudden swells of chaos magic in the world can rear up and sweep folks off, sometimes whole villages.”
“Even though the world is getting back on its feet nowadays, it feels like we are starting from scratch. So much knowledge and so many griffs were lost, the whole world’s been broken down to pretty much just the local lords in control of whatever little parcel of land they rule over, no more of the big kingdoms like in the stories.”
Gunther paused to take a moment to seemingly compose himself before continuing.
“Course things are mostly stable now, no more green ooze instead of water, falling upwards into the sky, or neighboring towns being torn apart by whatever the chaos demon’s conjured up this time. I just hope that this lasts, I've lived my whole life during chaos. Now that it's over, I’d like to be able to live a bit longer in a more orderly world”
He chuckled darkly. “You really didn’t have good odds of becoming old during those times, but maybe I’ll even yet live to see grandchicks in my lifetime.”
At that statement Cynthia turned her head away with her cheeks red. Ah, parental embarrassment, truly a tradition throughout space and time immemorial.
We passed through the fence surrounding the village and I had the various points of interest of the place pointed out to me as we made our way towards the center of the village. There was a blacksmith, a weaver, and a handful of storage silos. There was also the pride of the village, the apothecary that was responsible for teaching Cynthia how to read and write, and contained nearly all of the books that the village owned.
Apparently I would be staying with Cynthia and her father in their house for the duration of my stay. Their home was little different from any other building in the village, being solidly built of logs with a sturdy looking roof of wooden shingles. An earthen staircase led down to a cellar for the building, presumably acting as long-term storage.
Inside the floor was made of smooth planks of wood for the most part, except for the cooking area over on the right side which was made of compacted earth. The hearth glowed a warm orange, providing a surprising amount of light to the building. On the left I could see two doors leading to the other rooms of the building, presumably sleeping quarters.
“We’ll put some pelts down on the floor with blankets and you can sleep out here.” Gunther said as he rummaged through a chest looking for the items in question. “Me and Cynthia got our sleeping spaces in other rooms, and I would appreciate it if you left us our personal space while you’re staying with us.”
I nodded. “Understood. By the way, what’s the name of this village? I haven’t gotten that bit of information yet.”
“Oh! It’s called Blackwood, because of all the pine trees in the woods,” Cynthia explained as she stepped into the house.
“Creative,” I deadpanned.
“Accurate,” She shot back with a smirk. “It tells anyone who wanders out this way what we got. Besides, I bet that you have seen plenty of boring names for places before.” Well she had that part right. Plenty of San Antonios or Springfields to go around back on earth.
“Well, that should keep you comfortable enough overnight. I’m sure you’ve had worse nights than you’ll get on that,” Gunther stated. I turned back towards him.
On the floor against the wall was a handful of animal pelts and a heavy wool blanket. Looked decently comfortable, and would definitely be warm. “Looks lovely to me, and a hell of a lot better than the tree I slept in last night.”
“Right then, now that we’ve got you sorted out, the two of us better get back to work.” Gunther opened the door and beckoned for Cynthia to follow him. “Feel free to wander around for a bit, and if you decide you’d like to help out, that would be great. Be seeing you at sundown for dinner.”
With that the two of them were off, and I followed shortly behind in order to take a closer look around the village.
The most important location for me to stop at was the local apothecary, since I needed to get my wing checked on as soon as possible. The chance of getting an infection from the wolf was significant, and hopefully they could give me some tincture to help ward it off.
Returning to the large building that I was told houses the apothecary, I knocked on the door. “One moment please!” There was the clacking sound of pottery being set aside, and the door opened to reveal a middle aged griff with white feathers. “Haven’t seen you around before, I assume you are new here?” His eyes immediately locked onto my bandaged wing. “I can probably guess why you came though. Come inside, allow me to take a look at that.”
As I entered his shop, I was hit by the pungent scent of herbs. Dried bundles of all sorts dangled from the ceiling, and small planters growing fresh ones decorated the spacious room. Shelves contained pottery jars of poultices, and an array of mortars and pestles were scattered around the work surfaces around the room.
One of the planters drew my eye far more than any other, mostly because of the faint glow it gave off. Taking a closer look, occupying the planter were what looked almost like green onions, if they were blue with yellow tips on the leaves instead. The clearly magical plant was fascinating to look at, and I couldn’t help but stare at its mesmerizing glow.
“Enough looking at the duskroot, come and take a seat on the stool.” The voice of the herbalist cut through my thoughts. Looking back at him, he patted the stool in question.
“Sorry, I’ve just never seen anything like that before,” I admitted as I took my place. I grit my beak as he began peeling off the bandages and splint I had applied in the forest.
“You have never seen duskroot before? It's quite common so far as magical plants go around here. You must have gone on quite the journey then,” He responded with a raised brow.
“Much further than you would think, and entirely unplanned to boot,” I replied with a sigh, to which he nodded understandingly.
“Then you can count yourself fortunate to have ended up here. May I ask what caused this injury?” With the bandage and splint removed, he was free to poke at the torn flesh and bone.
“Wolf attacked me in the woods, I was able to kill it, but not before it took a chunk out of my wing.”
“Hmm… that would do it. All in all, while the bone is broken, it’s not that severe a break. We should have you back in the air in a matter of weeks.” He applied a poultice to the wound that made me yelp at the sudden stinging sensation. The herbalist then wrapped it back up tight with some fresh bandages and a more professional splint.
“Allow it a minute to set in properly and make sure it's comfortable enough, then I’ll let you get on with your day. Oh, and before I forget, the name is Felian.” The middle-aged griff shook my claw before returning back to his work. While I sat in my stool, I looked around at the rest of the space.
To my surprise, around half the building was what was clearly a classroom, with rows of wooden benches and a surprisingly large bookshelf. It was missing a blackboard and some other features of a modern classroom, but it was nevertheless interesting to see. Walking over to the class, I picked one of the books off the shelf to read while I waited.
It was a small compendium of the region's fairy tales, written by someone called ‘Helga Grimwing.’ The one I had opened to was a tale about a griffon who had made a deal with a demon to bring rain to his village to save the crops, only for the demon to make it rain hellfire instead of water. The moral of the story was pretty obvious, be careful what you wish for, though in this world I suppose it could also be taken literally as don’t make a deal with actual demons.
“If I had known you could read, I would have offered a book initially myself.” I looked up at the sound of Felian talking to me.
“Ah, it’s alright. Honestly I forget sometimes that not everyone is able to read, it’s just not something I’ve ever really thought about. I learned how to read very young, and did so alongside learning how to speak, so it just comes as naturally to me as talking does.”
“Sounds like your parents did well to teach you.”
“Yeah they did great at teaching me the basics. Never was the greatest at my language arts classes though, preferred the more empirical ones like math and the sciences.”
“Oh? Would you happen to be a noble by chance, they are the only ones I’ve heard of receiving such a thorough education from their tutors.” The note of surprise in his voice reminded me that this was a world that didn’t have the school system of the modern age.
“No, if only.” I shook my head at his question. “I was very fortunate in my upbringing regardless, and lived quite comfortably.”
I then asked the question that had been on my mind since I saw the classroom. “Cynthia told me that she was learning how to read here, but I didn’t expect to find a whole classroom in a little village.” The fact that there was effectively a schoolhouse even here in a backwater made me pause to rethink my preconceptions about the level of education these griffons might have. “How many other griffons from the village do you teach here?”
“Learning how to read and write is a very useful skill, especially when it comes time to sell our goods in the market up in Griffenheim. Around half of Blackwood is either already capable of basic literary skills or is in my class to learn them,” Felian explained to me, puffing his chest out with pride. “I try to teach as best as I can, but everyone is quite busy with their own duties, including me. Still, I am proud of what I do here to help our Blackwood.”
“Glad to hear it.” As we spoke, a thought occurred to me. “If you would like, I can help to teach the reading lessons. I’m already staying here for a while, and teaching would give me something to help fill the days. I can teach topics other than reading as well, such as math or physics.”
Felian looked surprised by my offer, and hummed to himself for a moment before responding. “The classes are mostly in the evenings after work winds down for the day, but if you want to help me out tomorrow night at the next lesson, we can see how well you do before I commit to having you being a permanent fixture in my class. Math classes might be useful, but I can already tell you that they won't be very popular, since any math beyond the basics they know will not have much value to a farmer.”
“I appreciate it, and I already have a few ideas on how to improve the classroom with a few simple additions.” The biggest difference between the classroom that had been set up here and a more modern classroom was the existence of a frontal blackboard to help with the lectures.
Blackboards were actually a fairly modern invention only dating back to the start of the 19th century for widespread use, but they didn’t really need any special technology to work, just a big chunk of smooth slate stone. Despite this, they were still one of the most important advances in mass education ever made. It allowed for the teacher to show the whole class the ideas they were trying to convey with visual aids at once, and it could be erased and changed out with new information at a moment's notice. It was also near infinitely reusable, and made of cheap and available materials.
If I was able to find a source of slate and some chalk, I could easily make one for the village. Felian seemed receptive to the idea as well once I laid it out to him. Even better, he already had a supply of chalk that he used to mark his pottery while he worked. That just left finding a big enough piece of slate and moving it to the village, but I had hopes that it would be an easy enough obstacle to overcome.
The rest of the afternoon we spent hashing out the details of what I could expect from the class tomorrow. The general reading level of each of the griffons in the class, and what Felian was focusing on teaching them at the moment.
Once the sun began to lower in the sky however, it was time for me to return to my temporary home for some much needed food. I left Felian to resume his own work, and made my way back across the village.
On my way back, I was acutely reminded by my stomach that I hadn’t eaten a single thing all day, and I was famished by the time I pushed open the door. The smell of cooking beans and bacon was a pleasant welcome, with Gunther and Cynthia watching over a pot of well, pottage. They gestured for me to come over and take a serving, and as I sat down we opened the conversation.
“What did you get up to while we worked Geralt?” Cynthia asked cheerily. “You weren’t in the house when we got back.”
“I spent the afternoon in the apothecary, getting my wing looked at.” I gave a little shake of the wing in question, feeling the bandages rub against my feathers. “Also, it looks like I will be helping out with Felian's classes. Besides just the reading and writing, I'm hope that I can provide some basic science and math classes as well.”
At their questioning looks I elaborated. “I have a pretty good education despite not being a noble. My father is a master engineer, and I am being trained to be the same. Growing up it just felt right to me, and I’ve made a lot of friends along the way. I may as well share what I know to those who want to learn during my stay here.” As I said that, it finally clicked in my mind that I wasn’t on earth anymore. Intellectually I understood, but in talking about it I finally grasped the depth of my losses.
My family was gone. My friends were gone. My career was gone. Everything that I had held dear to me was a world away, and I doubted that there was any way for me to get back anytime soon.
I slumped as the sudden realization of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks. "Though I suppose that I should be saying was now, shouldn't I. I doubt that I will see anyone or anything from my old life again. I've just been dropped here without a clue why, with no idea of what to do or where to go.” I closed my eyes as I felt waves of grief wash over me.
There was a sudden softness on my back, and I glanced over to see that Cynthia had scooched closer to drape her wing over me, her eyes full of concern. “It’s alright, I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love. And I know that there is nothing that can be done or said right now that can magically make everything ok, but just know that you’re safe and welcome here.”
“That's right lad, take your time getting to grips with it all, I’ll tell you it took years for me to be able to accept that Teresa was gone.” I could see that Gunther was growing misty eyed at the memories of his departed wife. “I wish I could say that it gets better, but as long as you remember them, that’s a dull wound that’ll stay with you.”
The rest of the evening was spent sharing stories about friends and family gone. I did have to change some details of my stories in order to make them match more with the world that I had found myself in, but it still was a pleasant time.
Eventually though, as the sun dropped far enough below the horizon that we decided to turn in for the night. Pulling the woolen blanket over my head, I closed my eyes and tried to get some rest. Sleep did not come easy to me that night.