The Humble Crusader

Chapter 1: Larstown

Am I... touching grass? The sensation of soft, tickling blades brushed against my palms, sending a curious shiver down my spine. It wasn't just my hands; it was as if the entire world around me was a living, breathing entity. A whirlpool of discomfort churned within me, like my insides were caught in a relentless washing machine cycle, threatening to induce nausea.

Slowly, my vision cleared as I blinked against the blinding onslaught of light. I winced, my face contorted in discomfort as my eyes struggled to adapt to the intensity.

When my eyes had adjusted to the sunlight, or whatever light it was, I could see a strange-looking town a few kilometers away from me.

I looked around frantically, my brain checking every single memory to find out if I knew where this place was.

I felt incredibly sick and unsure about where I was, and my mind flooded with questions. Where am I? What should I do? Where are my comrades? Why am I panicking so much?! How do I slow down my thoughts?! Have I been taken by an enemy group?!

I forcefully shut down my thoughts and sat down cross-legged, taking a few deep breaths. I felt the air blowing on my face. As I was out here with my lonesome, with a grassland going for kilometres around me,  my rabid thoughts slowly came to a standstill, and my mind started to only focus on what was in front of me.

  It took a while to calm down because soldiers should always be wary of their surroundings. Unfortunately, I have no idea how I ended up here.

I did know one thing. I needed some shelter for the night. Laying out here in the open might attract some unwanted attention and I would be too defenseless.

I slowly walked to the town I saw in the distance. I snuck into the town while the guards were sleeping and saw a place that seemed to have emerged from the annals of medieval history, both strange and captivating.

I was still wearing my combat uniform. I vividly remember patrolling Kabul, and it was a pretty peaceful night.... But my recollection was hazy beyond that point, a void where memories should have been.

These people here... they don't seem to have as much technology as what I'm used to. Men toiled in dirtied clothes, worn by labor, while women draped themselves in flowing garments that gracefully brushed their ankles. Some of them were staring at me like I was an extinct creature. It has to be because of my combat uniform.

I saw a small store on the side of the trail which had some, chairs, and I thought I could sit there and clear my mind a bit. There were drunkards all around, probably drinking off all their depression. Little did they know, that they would feel way worse after wasting all that money. I sat down on a chair, next to the store which sold beverages. The chair was carved out of wood, and was more like a stump than an actual chair.

There's no way these people will know my language right? Let's give it a try. "Salam." I greeted a bearded man, who was downing his alcohol. He looked at me like I was crazy. Plus, my outfit didn't help at all. "Hmm? What?" He asked in English. Oh, English. I should have tried that first. How silly of me. "Hello." I tell him, waving my hand awkwardly even though I'm sitting right next to him. "Hello, to you as well, young man." He said, his words slurred by the effects of alcohol. I noted his ability to handle the drink, a skill honed over time.

"What's with that...uh.." The bearded man pointed his finger to my outfit, clearly confused. "Oh...that's...my uniform.." I said, not knowing what to say. I had one arm on the table, with my elbow giving me support.

"Sir, if you don't mind...can you tell me what this place is called?" I asked the bearded man.

I was hoping that he wouldn't question me too much in return.