Living on Borealis-9: The Story Of A Reincarnated Human

Chapter 2.1, Part 1: Good Morning

I woke up again in an alley. Last night must have been kind of fuzzy for me. Maybe sleeping next to that spring wasn't such a good idea. The perfume-fumes may have made my mind a little...misty. I struggled to recall anything about last night, really. Just a lot of little lessons that peppered the fog. How did I even get here? I didn't see any villages nearby when I was at the spring. Maybe it was hidden by the scenery? Behind some trees or rocks? I dunno, and I honestly don't care. My head hurt too much for this shit.

I wandered out the alley into the town. It was still early-ish dawn, with the sun just high enough that it peeked over the rooftops. So, I guessed that most people were still asleep. Only a few neighbourhood watchmen were wandering around, holding lanterns with spears at their side. They all seemed to be Elves, given how they had long, pointy ears, beautiful long hair, and weird green veins under their skin. Contrary to what many people think of Elves, they are not slim, beautiful, and graceful. These guys looked more like they were aliens trying to emulate Humans, who hadn't had a meal in almost a week. Not really...Elfish.

The square I was in reminded me of Rothenburg, or maybe some of the towns I visited in France when I was there on holiday. Several buildings were built from either stone bricks or the plaster-like stuff on mediaeval houses, with similar cross-sections and beams that were also present on such houses. Some were decorated with windows that looked out into the square, as well as some stranger aspects. Some had copper roofs that were rounded rather than the triangle-shaped shingles of the others. Some had pathways between them, connecting one house with the other, as though two good friends really wanted to constantly be able to visit each other but didn't want to use the street to walk twenty paces over.

A few seemed to be establishments as well. One had a sign above it that advertised various curios being for sale. One had an open-air section cut out of the bottom, revealing several blacksmithy things such as an anvil, a cold forge, and several sacks that probably held metal or similar. A bar there, a herb shop here, way over there was a small bakery. I liked it. Made me feel a little nostalgic-feeling, seeing a bakery in the street.

Alright, so, nice generic mediaeval town. It's official, I am in a bloody Isekai. Question is, am I a protagonist, or a side character? Hmmm...Who cares. I'll enjoy my time here, regardless. First order: Find some kind of food, I'm hungry! Only issue was that I'm broke. No money with me, and I don't think that the people here took euros. Maybe gold?

"Excuse me?" I asked one of the neighbourhood watchmen trudging down the street. "Could you spare me a bit of money so I can get a meal?"

"Who are you? You a Human?" They asked with a stoner's drawl, putting a hand on the hilt of their sword. "We don't like Humans here, man."

"Woah, woah, woah! Chill out, I'm a Sammi! Here, check my head. You'll find some horns under my hair." I said, bending down to let them feel around my head. They patted around until they felt my weird horns, scratching around them.

"...Alright, you're cool. You want some gold?" The weird stoner Elf dude said, handing me a few gold coins. And they were real gold coins! My dad let me hold some gold coins he found in Italy, and the weight and feeling was near-identical.

"Thank you very much." I said, tucking the precious coins away into my socks. I didn't have any pockets, and I doubted putting them in the rim of my kilt would be very sustainable. Maybe, if I could get a needle, thread, and some cloth, I could make myself a pocket to put things into. 'Till then, I'll just keep my cash with me the South African way.

I meandered over to the bakery, looking up at a towering clocktower nearby. It had twenty points on it, with one point representing one hour, for a total of twenty hours. Interesting. Time was counted differently on this planet. Either that, or they have long days here. It would not surprise me if there was a strange ecosystem adapted around heat here, and that I was going to be cooking by noon because the sun has been in the air for thirty hours of the day. But, knowing about fantasy works, it was just a weird way of counting time. Once I got to the bakery, I reached down and grabbed a wreath of bread. Writing a small note explaining what I took, I laid down the gold I had been given and walked off to enjoy the meal, and to watch the day as it unfolded. All with a delicious wreath of bread. Good day.