Nagan | Broken Time Series: Book One

Chapter 2

As soon as the psychedelic monstrosity started, it ended. Right in the middle of an empty, green space. Nagan barely had two seconds before he lurched forward and dry heaved into the grass. Through the blur of a spinning head, he managed to have one coherent thought: What the hell was that?!

"Happens to the best of us," a voice said sympathetically beside him. It didn't even register to Nagan that there were others around him. Due to the spinning, he didn't quite catch how his helper looked, but he could guess it was a boy.

The mystery boy was helping him stand when a sharper voice pierced the air. It made Nagan's growing headache worsen.

"Icarion!" a woman summoned. The mystery boy flinched before drawing away from Nagan.

"Coming, Mother," he called back and turned back to Nagan, patting his shoulder lightly. "We'll see each other again, I'm sure."

With that, the boy walked away, and Nagan couldn't help but watch as his vision cleared. Although the boy was now farther away, Nagan could see the boy had neat dark brown hair and soft features. A stark contrast from Nagan's literally dirty blond hair and bony face. The boy stood next to a tall man with his hair tied in a low ponytail, a severe-looking woman, and a young girl. The family was dressed quite lavishly.

Now steady on his feet, Nagan took a few moments to survey his surroundings. Those moments turned into minutes to process what he was seeing.

He stood in an open field. Nothing too special aside from a grey slate path. Others crowded around sparsely and looked to be clusters of families mingling. Rich families, or at least, the higher middle class and above. If this really was Carvolier, that meant these people were other mages. All dropping off their children so they, too, could become mages or even Dragonmages.

To Nagan's left stood a dark forest. The trees were taller than anything he'd seen. If there even was another side, it certainly wasn't nearby as he could hardly see past the tree line.

A roar to his right caught his attention. He turned towards the sound and saw a great mountain. There were shimmers of colors flying in the air and roosting on the stony cliffs — more dragons. Though this didn't come off as much of a shock, considering where he was. It was hard to make out from the distance, but he could see decorated or plain riding equipment on the dragons. This assured him the dragons were tame.

A breeze drifted by with the pleasant aroma of freshly baked bread. Naturally, Nagan followed the scent and saw a tall stone wall with a single gate leading out. Beyond the gate sat a quaint town in the traditional Tarkon style, a hint he was still in the same region. Much to Nagan's surprise, he saw the gate ripple. Another family appeared and almost collided with a couple strolling through it. This must have been a common occurrence as neither parties were surprised and laughed it off. With no other explanation, Nagan reasoned it functioned as a portal and a normal gate. Then why did I have to endure that nauseating sinkhole! Nagan thought in dismay.

There was still something missing. If this was Carvolier, where was the school? A breeze rustled past, gently fluttering through his thin clothes. It held a bite that wouldn't have been felt in the sun. He was standing in the shadow of something enormous. Turning around and facing the sun, Nagan's jaw hit the ground.

Nagan really must have been disoriented if he missed this sight. Standing proudly in front of him was the Carvolier Castle itself. To see the white-tiled tops of the towers, Nagan had to crane his neck back and squint into the sun. The walls were made of black volcanic rock with chunks of quartz glinting in it. Alongside it were white granite accents and marble ornaments. Many windows and open walkways could be seen from where he was standing. He could even pick out movement from inside the castle. Hopefully this large space would soon be filled instead of sitting partially empty. Though what surprised Nagan the most were the numerous balconies. Some were even large enough to easily hold two adult dragons. Yet there was one balcony in particular that caught his eye.

It was larger than the rest and had an impressive set of glass doors with stained glass surrounding it. But it wasn't those things that made him concentrate on that area in particular. He felt as if something was watching him from up there, and he could've sworn he saw something move, too.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to investigate anytime soon.

"You there!"

The angry tone immediately jolted Nagan out of his thoughts and triggered his fight-or-flight response. Mentally, he filtered through anything he could've done wrong. If there was nothing to run from, why should he run? Yet out of habit he stood defensively, becoming painfully aware of the fact the scroll was no longer with him. He must've dropped it while being sent through the demon hole.

The one who shouted at him was a bit of a portly man and...looked generally harmless. The man was dressed cleanly and had an odd swoosh of peppered hair trying to cover a bald spot. He looked like a disgruntled butler. Huffing and red-faced, the man stopped in front of Nagan.

"And what do you think you're doing here just standing about and gawking at everything? You're blocking the path!" the man wheezed in a nasal voice. With a quick glance, Nagan could see the families still standing in the field. Few stood on the walkway.

"Now pip pop! Off you go!" he shooed with a flicking motion of his fingers like he was shaking water from his hands. "You've had your fun. Go back to your caravan."

"Uh..." Nagan didn't quite know how to respond. This was one of the calmer reactions to seeing him, but how would he explain a baby dragon sent him through the portal of colorful hell?

Luckily, he didn't have to come up with a solution himself. It fell out of the sky in the form of the missing scroll. Directly on the butler's head. The scroll was light and harmless, but the old man still screeched and flailed his arms in alarm. Nagan bit the inside of his lip to keep himself from laughing, but internally, he was in stitches.

With no other way to explain himself, Nagan stooped down to pick up the scroll. He held it in front of himself so the old man could see the name written on it.

"This is me," he stated, not knowing how else to say it. The old man didn't react much, but stared at the golden letters. Hoping to reinforce the declaration, he added, "I'm Nagania Elvar."

A few awkward seconds passed. The tension became heavy enough to crumble rock before the butler drawled, "Elvar, eh? I knew he married a gypsy, but..." He trailed off and studied Nagan's face with scrutiny. A bit too close for comfort, in Nagan's opinion. "You certainly look like an Elvar. Hm."

The butler wrinkled his nose as he eyed the state Nagan was in. "I best lead you to the nurse. Heaven knows you'll need some salves and a few nourishment potions. Now pip pop! I want you out of the medical wing and settled into your room before the welcoming ceremony! Let's not dawdle!"

Nagan stared after the old man, baffled, before jogging a few paces to catch up to him. What just happened?