(Thank you so much! :D)
"Yes, a phone." Sera held it back out so he can see it. Her index finger tapped on the phone. After taking a deep breath, she took a tiny step closer in order to get a better look at him.
She was about to explain all the things one can do with a phone, but then realized that the person is most likely dazed and confused. Her teeth bit down on her bottom lip in order to stop herself from doing so. Confusing or upsetting this guy is the last thing she wants to do.
"Yeah, a map in this tiny thing," Sera answered. "It can do so many things. I can even call a contact for you so you're not out here stranded?" She paused, doing her best to give a less worried, sincere smile. "Is there anyone we can call for you?"
Phone, phone. Repeating the term a couple times in his mind, Siirawyn attempted to remember it. Had he just stumbled across some place he wasn’t supposed to be? A hidden kingdom, maybe? But there weren’t many solutions to this he could think of.
“A contact?” Siirawyn repeated, more to himself. He wondered if the ‘phone’ would somehow summon a bird to their location so they could send a message. He considered who to send to - he had heard of some other soldiers, writing to their parents, but those letters often took longer to deliver. If he was looking for more immediate response - and in addition, he wasn’t sure what his parents, just some farmers, could even do in this situation…
“The Marshal? ..Marshal…” He searched to remember the exact name. “Marshal Tilke? You could really send a message to him?”
Sera nodded again. "Yes, a contact…" Her smile stayed put, even though her eyes shined with puzzlement. There are many possibilities as to what he may say. By the look of his own puzzlement, she wasn't able to predict any.
"Marshal…..Ti…Tilke?" She wasn't sure if she was pronouncing it right; hopefully she was. Then again, she isn't sure of anything else going on now. "Do you know his number?"
The moment she asked the question something hit her. Her chin moved over her right shoulder, looking back into the living room then turned to look back at the man. Is it possible to believe that this man isn't from anywhere nearby? Would she be crazy if she does?
"How about we go inside? It's not best to be out here for too long; it's a bit chilly. And I can give you a glass of water and food while we figure this out. Plus you can sit down and relax….That is, if you want to."
“Marshal Till-kay.” He sounded out, in effort to show its true pronunciation. The Marshal was the only man he could think of who might be able to receive the message and do something about it. That is…as long as the Marshal still lived.
He dreaded that prospect - but ignored it for now.
Number? Now, Siirawyn wasn’t sure what to say. Did the Marshal ever mention a number? He dug into his brain for answers, but found none.
“…He doesn’t have a number,” Siirawyn responded after a moment.
Siirawyn cast a cautious glance around, seeing if there were any unnatural shadows around. Any enemies. But he spotted none. Going back to her offer - Siirawyn decided to accept. Why deny a meal and some drink when you’re given it? “Okay,” he said. “We can go inside.”
That is a funny name if you ask her; then again there are so many different kind of names that sound sharp on the tongue. "Till-kay….Okay then…" She nodded. At least she can pronounce Tilke right now.
"Oh…." Her shoulders dropped. Her smile had finally faltered. All she could manage to add after that was a simple "I'm sorry…" Sera wished she had the right words; it probably would make the situation better for the both of them. "We can still find help for you, I'm sure of it."
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. Although Sera is still anxious, she turned her back and stepped inside. She looked over his shoulder then gave a smile as she motioned for him to come in.
Siirawyn was still lost on the ‘number’. What was it? He considered asking, but no - pushed it back for now. He had other focuses, as he stepped inside the building. His pace was still slow and cautious, as though he expected something to leap out at him, but there was nothing at all.
He could still hear the sound - music? After a moment, Siirawyn questioned - “Where are the musicians?”
When he stepped inside, she made sure to close the door. As she turned around, she looked at the map one more time. Her eyes flickered over to the guy. She still doesn't know his name yet, and he doesn't know hers. There's a lot they both don't know, but it probably would be easier if they knew each other's names, right?
Just as she was about to ask, she stopped. Sera looked down at the dark brown wooden floor then back at the man. Musicians? Oh he means… "Oh the music?" She asked.
Walking towards the stereo, she motioned for him to come over. Her eyes squinted from the volume, so she used the volume knob to turn it down. Then, of course, she pulled her phone out. "There's no musicians I'm afraid, but the music is coming from my phone and coming out of this big box thingy…the stereo."
“Stereo? And it’s related to the thing…the phone?” Siirawyn observed. “It amplifies it…like some sort of speaking-trumpet..” He had quietly noted to himself. He appeared to understand it fairly quickly - at least the basics, not all the inner workings. Although it was all still a bit of a shock - about how easily she was able to make it quieter.
He leaned in, inspecting it up close, then pulled away.
It had just come to mind, that Siirawyn still had no clue who this person was. Nor did she know who he was. The scar on his neck itched slightly - which Siirawyn still had no clue was there - and he prepared to ask.
“I…” He began, almost hesitant. “I just realized I have no idea what your name is, Frilye. Mine is Siirawyn Joselvin. A name for a name?”
Sera nodded quickly. Although she wasn't sure if she was supposed to hear what he said, she was happy about his observations. "Yeah! Yeah…it actually kind of does like a trumpet," She beamed. "I mean it gets a bit more complicated with the technology and how it really works, but I think you got it right!"
Her lips made an o shape before going back to smiling. Siirawyn Joselvin, what a beautiful name. It sounds like one from those fantasy medieval books she used to read growing up.
"Serafina Caballero, but you can call me Sera if you'd like to, Siirawyn. I hope I say it right. Let me know if I mispronounce it." She looked over at the stereo then remembered. "Oh I said I'd get you something to eat! Do you want to eat something now?"
Siirawyn hummed. He hadn’t heard a name like that before, although he had only been to a small portion of the world, and while he had met people, never really learned their names. “Interesting,” Siirawyn replied. “I’ve never met a person with a name such as yours. It’s a nice name.”
“You can call me Sira, for short,” he added. He noted the lack of name ending in her surname - wondering if that was her full name, or just a cover name. Or perhaps he really was in a pocket of area with no association with the war or anything like that - he had heard of cultures that didn’t adopt the surname endings.
“Sure.” Siirawyn replied. “That would be nice, yes.”
"My name is longer, but it is okay. People's names vary in different parts." She slipped her phone into her side pocket then flicked her wrists. "Thank you. I can say the same about yours really, although it sounds lovely."
Sera chuckled when Siirawyn offered her to use the nickname "Sira". Sera and Sira. She kept repeating it in her mind. Sounds like some sort of old superhero duo. "Will do, Sira. Will do."
Ambling down to the kitchen, she hummed with the music. It could still be heard from the kitchen, but it was faint. Sera walked over to the dark gray fridge, wrapping her hand around the silver handle. She stopped, "Is there anything in particular you want me to make?"
“Yes..that they do.” Names did vary, and Siirawyn had to remember, although he’d travelled a distance more than most ‘average’ people ever did, he still hadn’t seen most of the world.
Siirawyn followed behind her, suddenly taking into mind the lights, the furnishings of this place - everything. Seemed so clean - and it wasn’t to say buildings back home weren’t clean, either, it was more…a whole different vibe. Along with the lights - Siirawyn quickly noticed they weren’t candles. Or lanterns. Or anything of what he’d seen before.
His gaze remained on the lights for a little bit before he blinked away to Sera asking him a question, and he considered it for a few seconds.
“No…Nothing in particular. Anything’s fine,” he clarified. Siirawyn looked at the rectangular object that she was near - he was able to recognize cabinets, counters - even if they did have that different vibe, but some things just seemed strange to him.
It must be a regional thing. I haven’t seen the casual life of the people around here, after all.
"Okay!" Sera wasn't sure where the random burst of energy came from, but she welcomed it. Turning around on her feet, she paused the moment she looked down at the stove. Whatever train of thought she was on, she somehow hopped off of it landing in a random station. She turned to face Sira and then instantly walked over to the fridge.
"Uh-" Her mouth hung opened as her fingers wrapped around the handle of the fridge. With her other hand, she let her index finger rest on her bottom lip. Sera was about to ask if he was allergic to anything, although she had to explain to him what the stereo was. Then again someone had to explain to her about other people not having dinner around ten thirty in the evening.
"I know this is England, but I still like to make Spanish foods," She shrugged while grabbing things from the fridge and beginning to cook. "I make some Romanian foods too, so if you ever want cabbage rolls or polenta, just let me know."
She grabbed a bright red apron then put on. "What do you like to eat, Sira?" Softly, she hummed as she filled a pot with water.
England, and there was that name again. He wondered if it was a region of Serlo he hadn’t heard of. That was the explanation that made the most sense to him. Other names appeared, like Spanish, and Romanian - Siirawyn simply assumed that was apart of some region of Serlo. The world was a big place, after all.
Realizing he had been in thought for a while, Sira went to answer the question. “Uh…” He began, uncertain of what to say. People never asked him what he wanted - it was always whatever happened to be served at the time.
“I usually have soup,” he answered, although his tone was as though he was uncertain of his own answer. He wasn’t lying - He did have soup a bit. It was generally the easiest for people to make.
"Heh…." She had planned to make gazpacho, a Spanish soup. At least she was going to make rice and heat up some bread to along with it. "I hope you don't mind if I actually make some soup, but there will be rice too. It's cool so it won't burn your tongue or make you feel very hot."
Sera went back to humming as she cooked. The music changed to another piece, one from Camélia. She grabbed the collar of her shirt to get some air going through. "Are you alright? Warm? Dizzy? Anything wrong?" She should've asked that sooner; it probably would have been better if she did. Of course she gotten way into the maps and being worried of bring attacked. Everything seems fine now. Sira seems to be a good person, she just hopes that she can help him.
“Okay,” Siirawyn nodded. “It sounds good.” He looked at the cooking equipment, far different from what he was used to seeing. Although, Siirawyn had never been in many kitchens, and even his own home didn’t really have an official kitchen - it was just an average farmer’s family home. Therefore, he chalked it up to ‘having not seen the world’, even if the peculiarity of his experience so far bothered him a bit.
At her question, he glanced up. “Oh, um…” Well, there’s the matter that I fell a fair amount a few hours ago. But I think those are only bruises. He took into consideration. “Nothing really, although my neck feels a little sore,” he admitted.
Indeed, his neck did feel slightly sore. He hadn’t had a chance to take a look at it, see if there were any marks he should be worried about. “I’m sure I’m fine.”
"Oh well…..I can take a look at it or give you some medicine or a little massage," She offered, "I normally just put a microwaved sock full of rice on to make it feel better, but I'm already using the rice for us to eat."
Sera did not say anything else for a while. She wanted to make sure not to burn anything and besides she doesn't want to keep Sira from waiting any longer to eat. Of course he said that his neck is only a bit sore, not that it doesn't hurt. On the other hand, he was out in the open then wandered over to this house. There are so many possibilities for why now is happening.
"Say….it's just sore? It doesn't hurt when you move it around?" She wondered. Grabbing bowls and placed out, she started to put food on the appropriate dining ware.
He tilted his head. He knew what rice was - but…
“What’s microwaving?” Siirawyn questioned. Microwaving - he certainly recognized one of the words used there; waving. Overall, he did not know what the full term meant.
And apparently rice could ease pain. That was new to him.
“It hurts a little if I move my head sharply, but other than that, no.” He touched the area of scar around his neck - that was where he could feel most of the pain. Siirawyn observed the dining ware, noting the cleanliness of it - of everything, he put together; as everything within this structure seemed so…clean, compared to what he typically saw. It wasn’t to say everything was dirty where he lived. They just had different tools to clean with, is all.
"Pardon?" Sera wondered if she should watch what she says or if she should find clever ways of explaining things. So much oddities is incorporated into one's life that may not make sense to another, but is taken for granted that these oddities are universal.
She sat down a bowl of gazpacho with a piece of toasted bread along with a plate of chicken fried rice on the island counter for Sira. "Hold on!" She exclaimed before rushing off. After two minutes, she came back with a light blue sock then filled it up with some uncooked rice.
Carefully, she tied it then went over to the microwave. "This silver box here is a microwave," She pointed out. Pressing the rectangular button on the right hand corner, the door popped open. "What you do is, you put something in it, that's safe…" She then proceeded to put the sock in then pressed the timer for thirty seconds. "And ahh you put in how long you want the microwave to warm up the thing…"
The seconds flew by after she pressed go. "And víola! I just microwaved a sock full of rice for your sore neck….A microwave is like a fire in a box that never goes out and always heats things up when you want to, but you have to be careful with it."
Sera handed him the warm sock then pulled out food utensils for him. "I hope that made sense," She sighed while going back to get food for herself, "This isn't my first or second tongue…sometimes I forget how to say simple words…like uhh…gato…gato…gato…ah cat! Yeah, but I hope I make sense to you."
“Fire that never goes out?” It sounded slightly familiar, although more related to a comparison that he had heard someone once make. Aeth was like fire, and the user needed that fire to live. So in a way, that fire never went out. Unless, the user of course…
“Interesting.” Siirawyn smiled. With the warm sock in his hands, he lifted it to his neck, and could deem that it did feel nice. Although the technology was still primarily a surprise to him, he felt that ‘fire in a box’ was a good description. And to be careful with it. Just like fire outside of a box. He nodded.
He looked at the utensils, and set the sock down for a moment to pick them up, inspecting them. He was familiar with utensils, although most people didn’t provide them right away to their guests where he came from, unless you were in some sort of noble’s place.
“Tongue?” He looked up at her briefly. “Ah, well, this is my first. But I do know some other words in different languages, like…” He searched his mind for a term. “Nhvil. H-veal. It means mage.”
Siirawyn set a spoon down in the bowl, looking down at the soup. It did look good. “Gato…Gato?” He repeated to himself, not recognizing the word. “Which language is that?”
Watching Sira smile was a relief to her. To her, it is a sign that all the words she keeps rumbling about make some sense. Although they are both confused, it's nice to know that they are on the same page even if it's understanding what a microwave is.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," She said. Before speaking any more, she waited until she finished with whatever she was eating. "Gato means cat in my native language, Spanish….I'm afraid I've never heard of Nhvil or H-veal before….like it doesn't sound like a language from this world…"
Sera had a hunch. She did, but it sounded weird and straight out of a fantasy book. Nhvil and H-veal….both sounded like the unfamiliar words Sira had said before. "Wait….Sira, what is the language that you and I are speaking right now?"
Siirawyn ate some of the soup - it was not like anything he’d tasted before, but it was quite refreshing. “Spanish…” He repeated to himself.
Again, more things he’d never heard of. But Siirawyn only said “Interesting,” in response. Once more, he went back to his explanation, of there just being dialects and regions of Serloven he’d never heard of. Yet even that explanation could only work so much.
Not from this world? He tilted his head ever so slightly, careful to not do it too much. “I don’t quite get what you’re saying…” Siirawyn commented. This was the only world he knew.
In response to her question, Siirawyn gave back an answer almost immediately. “Well, Nhvil - the word from before, is in Serlo. And right now, we’d be speaking…well, Terrin, of course!”
