The Flying Emporium

Time passed quickly this evening and it was already well past midnight when the two finally, though only reluctantly, called it a night; their excitement was still high, and if it wasn’t for another busy day waiting for them the next morning, they surely would have kept going all night. But they also understood that addressing all the different questions that burned on their minds, much less actually discussing them in greater detail, would be impossible in just a couple of hours, and that many more nights like this one were sure to follow, anyway; there was no haste.

As such, and with Severin already having had his own most pressing questions answered, he was willing to dedicate the remainder of this specific evening to, in turn, answer the dwarf’s question; not, however, for the lack of an ulterior motive.

Severin still hadn’t forgotten his earlier outburst, and he feared neither had Bandur. He didn’t like in what light it might have painted him and was anxious to justify himself and to make Bandur understand where he was coming from, both literally and figuratively speaking.

Bandur was more than happy with this opportunity, and, as a result, the following conversation had mostly focussed on Severin’s home world and its peculiarities.

Much to Severin’s surprise, however, the lack of magic wasn’t the man’s main concern. Or rather, it was almost as if he either didn’t quite believe or understand Severin’s claim.

That became only worse after Severin’s explanation that almost all the things that, in this word, were achieved by magic, back on Earth- quite the stupid name for a planet, Bandur remarked- had been achieved by non-magical means.

It didn’t help that Severin was largely unable to actually explain the underlying concepts and mechanics that allowed for those more advanced achievements, in any satisfactory detail, so that, at one point, Bandur simply concluded,

“A inexplicably flying metal tube carrying people? Sounds very much like magic to me, lad.”

Even Severin’s half-knowledge of lift and thrust and his exasperated mentions of aerodynamics and engines, much to his frustration, did nothing to change the man’s stubborn mind.

Instead, the dwarf seemed much more interested in the inhabitants of this foreign world and, repeatedly, returned to the topic of the different races, or their rather their non-existence, and took great pleasure from Severin squirming as he had the human recount the different stereotypes and simplifications they and their cultures had been reduced too.

“Wahaha, lad, don’t ever let them hear this, paha” Bandur had been wheezing with laughter, when Severin, almost proud he remembered some knowledge on the matter that didn’t just come from some modern movies, mentioned once reading that elves, at one point, had been depicted as these small, fairy-like creature with wings.

His teasing aside, however, Bandur made one significant observation, one that Severin had always been aware of, but, until now, only subconsciously. And that was that all of this was simply way too coincidental.

A magicless world with -albeit very rough- knowledge about magic.

A world inhabited only by humans and other animals, but still aware of all these other races.

What did this mean?

Bandur had his theories. Theories of great wars, lost civilizations, and just as lost knowledge. Basically, in his opinion, some kind of cataclysm must have occurred some long time ago and wiped everything out, with humans being the only survivors.

Severin didn’t even bother explaining the impossibilities of this theory, and that archeology and carbon-dating were a thing; not after the disbelief his lackluster description of an airplane and its operating principles had earned him.

And it wasn’t like he had any other, more convincing, alternative to offer instead. After all, be it transmigration or reincarnation, or whatever else this was, that in itself was just as impossible. Or should have been, at least.

On that note, both agreed to call it a day. But just when they were about to part ways, they remembered one last issue needed to be addressed.

The question of how to proceed with the saurian.

This topic soon proofed to be another point of friction and cost them another half an hour arguing, before Bandur finally succeeded persuading his unwilling boss to let the matter drop.

Whatever had happened, it didn’t exactly happen on his property.

The saurian’s actions, in a way, were done to honor him and show him respect, not to harm or offend him.

And, following the [Princess’] interference, his decision to refuse servicing the saurian, and thereby potentially painting her a liar, might not just damage his relations with her, but with Malcos as a whole.

All those arguments were just some of the ones Bandur had brought forth trying to convince his boss to yield.

In the end, however, it was the dwarves reminder that Severin was no longer in his own world, but in one with its own set of morals and customs, which, like it or not, he needed to, if not adopt, adapt to, that ultimately convinced him.

Not just for his own sake, but for that of everyone surrounding and depending on him; maybe for the first time in his life, Severin had actual responsibilities which had to be taken into account when making decisions.

But his understanding and acceptance of his position didn’t mean he had to like it; when he finally went to bed this night, his mood was bad, and when he woke up just a few hours later that still hadn’t changed; although this was perhaps more due to the fact he hardly got any sleep.

After all, it had already been way past his usual bedtime when he finally got to lie down and, given the day’s events, even then, he had difficulties actually falling asleep.

The alcohol surely didn’t help with the quality of his sleep, either. And neither did the fact that the next morning he had to get up earlier than usual.

Reason for that was twofold, with the first being a direct result of Bandur’s and his last argument; Severin, reluctantly and annoyed he had to waste money for something like this, navigated to the System’s shopping menu and placed an order per his custom design; customers from this day forth, all over the mountaintop, would find wooden signs saying,

Severing of limbs and other lethal practices, strictly prohibited.

The second reason for his early rising this morning was the unfinished business of the previous day.

Severin had been in the middle of cleaning the mess he had created in his anger, when Bandur came looking for him, at which point finishing this work, sliding across the floor on his knees and cutting himself on the remaining strewn around glass shards, would seem oddly inappropriate given the circumstances; still, it had to be done before they could open for another day of business.

Severin then, and with dark rings under his eyes, bought a replacement set of laboratory glassware, desperately hoping this day would be more quiet than the one before.