Man from the Stars

The jousting lances clashed with a clang so loud it shook the very sand beneath the horses’ hooves. Your breath hitched in your throat. As exhilarating as the tournament was, there still ached a severe pain inside you when you watched.

It’s not that you meant to gain such a strong stake in this. You were supposed to be looking for them. You promised not to get sidetracked.

You promised.

Yet here you sat on these splintered wooden bleachers. Watching the jousting match. Cheering for Sir Reginald the Radiant.

Unlike a day ago.

“Everyone to your stations, now!” The captain barked the order over the comms. You sprang from your bed, throwing on your uniform without a care to look in a mirror first. The cold metallic floor beneath your bare feet felt like walking on ice itself. As you raced from your room, you buttoned your shirt, trying to maintain somewhat of a presentable appearance before confronting your boss.

When situations like this occurred, he always contacted you first over your personal channel. After all, you were the commanding officer. The second in charge around here. Something must truly be catastrophic if he felt he had no time.

Your trip up to the bridge of the ship consisted of no obstacles, much to your own surprise. As you entered the sterile, bright room, the captain’s face turned to yours. An anxious look covered his otherwise awestruck expression.

A giant swirling vortex filled the clear screen that served as the ship’s window. Your mind likened it to a whirlpool, spinning into a tornado shape with nothing but a dark void in the center.

Confident in your knowledge of what it was, you still couldn’t help but ask, “Wormhole?”

The question hung in the air for a moment.

“Precisely so,” the captain responded, still with a look of childlike wonder glossed over his eyes. Yet the tone of fear crept in: “We are trapped in its gravitational pull.”

The alarms ringing throughout the ship fade out to the louder alarms going off in your head. “What? We’re going in?”

“No stopping us now.” The man had entered a trance, no longer looking away from the void now getting larger on the screen.

A jolt of energy electrifies your system as you dash over to the controls, hoping to pull the ship away from its impending fate. As the controls lock up under your hands, you jump over to the communications center. A few crewmen are already sending out different distress signals. Others are leaving long messages for the Alliance network. You push a button and begin your own assessment of the situation, leaving quick facts about the wormhole and the captain’s acceptance of their fate.

One of the crewmen began to weep bitterly at her console, wailing about her family back on Earth. You watch as many others turn to the wormhole. Your mind goes to the two hundred souls aboard this vessel. All heading to what may appear to be the same fate.

Instead, you turn back to one of the pilots, specifically Pilot Dodge. “Why wasn’t this picked up? We could’ve avoided this!”

Pilot Dodge now entered a similar trance as his eyes stayed glued to the screen. “It came out of nowhere, sir. It just…appeared.”

You scowled out before feeling the ship jerk beneath your feet, sending you tumbling to the side. No way this was happening.

No way.

The ship continued to drift towards the wormhole. Any moment now, your life would either end or get taken in a direction you never thought imaginable.

Most everyone now turned to watch. But not you. No.

You closed your eyes.

You even held your breath.

But you could still breathe. The alarms of the ship stopped. Instead, the air turned warm. Sweet almost. Nothing like the artificial air of the ship. It smelled as if you were outside. You opened one eye. Trees with leaves of gold and crimson decorated your view. Your mind blanked at the recollection of the last time you saw real trees. Your hands rested on top of a bed of crunchy leaves.

And a spider web?

Eh! You snapped your hand away, rubbing off whatever you could of the web on your uniform.

Your uniform!

You smacked around at your pockets, seeing if you were equipped with anything. The device that allowed you to scan, communicate, and connect with the Alliance network rested safely in your left pocket. You took it out with speed and turned it on. Sure enough, it lit up, but no connection was made. You tapped at it a few times, but nothing worked in terms of connection or communication. Scanning wouldn’t work without the needed connection.

Still, instead of resigning to stay stuck, you stood up to get a better idea of your situation. With or without the needed connection, recording your findings would still be the professional option. Shaking off the surprise of still being alive, you resolve to begin looking for your crew and captain. If you survived the pull, they must’ve as well. A weak theory, but the only one you had to go on.

“Hey! What are you doing out here?”

The voice came from a middle-aged man, gruff-looking with speckled gray hair. His hands were calloused and full of moles. But his eyes made him look as if he had already lived for over a hundred years.

Your diplomatic brain worked overtime, puzzling together the correct words to speak to the native. “Greetings, do not be afraid, as I mean no harm. I come from the Alliance of Stars. I have been separated from my crew. Have you happened to see any of them?”

The man stood there for a moment, staring at you as if you spoke another language. You didn’t, you spoke English. And he spoke to you in English first. Perhaps the words were too complex? He didn’t understand Alliance of Stars? His clothes suggested he tailored them himself out of hides and skins of animals he caught. No, of course a primitive planet wouldn’t understand.

You tried again.

“I am lost. Have you seen others wearing similar clothing to mine?”

That the man understood, “No, lad. You are the first man I’ve ever seen wear such an outlandish garment. It is clear to me you are indeed very lost. Follow me.”

Following the man was easy enough. He walked with steady steps, almost deliberate in his slow pace. You wished he’d hurry up or that you could pass him, but passing him wouldn’t do you much good. Instead, you were forced to slow your own walking speed.

“I own different types of clothing. I will loan you one so you don’t have to continue to wear,” He paused before gesturing to your body, “what in God’s good Earth this is.”  

You chuckled at him, “This so happens to not have been created on God’s good Earth.”

A beat before the realization hits.

“Wait, did you say Earth?”

You studied the man’s clothing again, this time with a historic eye. You’re a little rusty with your history as you passed the class with the lowest passing score one could achieve. Yet you still deduced this was some form of fifteenth-century England.

If the wormhole turned out to be some form of transporter through time, then perhaps your crew could still be found. Unless everyone was scattered throughout time, then you were possibly on your own.

“Yes, this is Earth,” The man nodded at you, still walking at his snail’s pace. “Why wouldn’t it be? You must’ve hit your head when putting that ridiculous outfit on.”

This man couldn’t have made it any more clearer how much he hated your uniform. You instead smiled back at him, “I’m not from around here, as I’m sure you realized.”

The man now came to a halt, his own realization hitting him. “You greeted me by telling me not to be afraid.” He spun on his heel and dropped to the ground in front of you, bowing in the most extreme measure you’d ever seen someone bow. “Forgive me, oh messenger of the Lord.”

“I…what?” A failed attempt to bring him back up to his feet gave you motivation to try to explain your situation. “No…I’m not an angel or anything. I’m human, like you. I’m just a traveler in space.”

His eyes suggested he wasn’t convinced. “A star man?”

You paused for a moment, feeling as if arguing would put you at risk of being burned as a witch. So instead you feel yourself surrender to the idea, “Sure.”

He rose back to his feet, giving you a firm handshake. “I am Jamie Beaumont. We have almost arrived back at my abode.”

Sure enough, within a few minutes, the two of you found a nice small cottage near the outskirts of a village. In the doorway stood a woman with long locks and a long dress. She looked up and gave a warm smile.

The man shook his head. “There’s my daughter. Good girl, Regina is. Takes care of me.”

You raised a brow. “You sound as if you’re not happy with her.”

“Eh,” he drew in a shallow breath, as if speaking the very words made him horrible, “I wish she were a boy, ya know? My late wife left me with only one child. As much as Regina has been a blessing, she still has the shortcomings of a woman.”

A burst of rage surges through you before you bury it back down deep into your core. Reminding yourself. Not the present. Not the current times. Back when men could say things like this. Incorrect things without a second thought. You instead replaced it with pity for poor Regina.

Star man. Sure, more like a man out of time. A stark reminder of your mission to find your crewmates. There was no place in this world for someone like you. A quick promise to yourself was made. At all costs, find your crew.

Pleasant words were exchanged as Jamie introduced you as the “star man” to his daughter. You gave a polite bow to her before you entered the small cottage. It smelled of campfire and sage, as well as human sweat. Gross, but still intriguing.

There in the corner, resting on a wooden mannequin, lay a suit of silver armor that gleamed in the sunlight pouring in through the windows. You couldn’t resist as you went over to touch the chainmail. Such beautiful craftsmanship that only existed in books in your time.  

Regina made her way over to you, watching your curious expression before chiming in, “My father worked hard on that with the blacksmith.”

“Your father was a warrior or something?”

“An honorary knight.”

“Is that so?” you asked, now with even more curiosity spinning through your head. Jamie ducked out of the cottage and went to collect some of the clothes he mentioned at the shed a few feet away.

“He is supposed to wear it tomorrow. This is why it’s out. But his form isn’t what it used to be.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Regina fluffed her skirt, wiping her hands against her apron. “Well, he wishes to defend his honor. But with how shaky his hands have been, I don’t think he could hold a lance in a match.”

That answer only felt like it led to more questions. You decided to press a little more, “Honor? Did someone insult him?”

Regina shifted, as if uncomfortable. “My father committed a sin many years ago after my mother passed. He was desperate for a son, mind you. Ever since, his title has been stripped, and he’s been branded an adulterer. A month ago, a woman was caught lying to her husband, and she accused my father of forcing her to do so. With everyone already on edge with my father’s past, he now must face her husband in the jousting ring. A good way to settle the conflict.”

Once again, more questions raced through your head. “I thought jousting was a sport? Is this going to be a death match?”

“Oh no, not anything like that. Just a good way to get out the tension in a way that didn’t involve anyone getting thrown in jail. However, as I mentioned, my father’s form is weak. I have a feeling he will still suffer a great injury tomorrow.”

“You sure care a lot for a man who doesn’t seem to like you.”

Regina looked insulted by that. “How can you say such a thing?”

You shrugged, “Look, my dad said some harsh things to me, and I told him if he wants to make it up to me, he can call. Sometimes you just have to let your parents go their own path and decide whether you’re worth it or not. If they truly love you, they will make the effort.”

She cocked her head, as if confused by this. “I’m not sure I follow.”

The cottage went still, the swirl of smells still strong in the air. You didn’t mind them as much as you used to. In fact, this whole cottage had such a sweet feel to it.

Regina walked over to the table that lay next to the armor and picked up a small blade from it. “Nonetheless, I shall be taking his place tomorrow. It took many nights to convince my father of this, but we are now at peace with me wearing the armor.”

Your attention shifted to Regina as she tested the knife’s sharpness. “You’re going to joust?”

She smiled at you, “I must protect my father’s honor. In any way that I can. If pretending to be a distant relative called Reginald the Radiant would suffice, then that is what I will do.”

You shook your head. “Why? He’s misogynistic. How can you want to defend someone who is always saying he wishes you were a man?”

“He is my father. He cannot help wishing for a son, as it would’ve made his life easier in this world. But he gained a daughter instead. I know he still loves me as his daughter.”

Something stirred deep inside you, wanting to rip this world’s system apart. But her face showed such peace with her place. Her challenge against the knight. With one swoosh of the blade, she cut her long honey-gold hair into a short bob while the severed locks fell to the stone floor.

“He should love you for more than just being his daughter. You shouldn’t have to earn his love, especially not in this life-threatening way.”

Now a giggle left her lips as she pulled back the bob into a small ponytail. “You’re rather silly, man from the stars. Your world sounds too fantastical for me.”

“Why? Because I challenge yours?”

She pondered for a moment. “I think maybe because it's too complex for me. Or it rather appears backwards. I must earn my father’s love. From what I’ve heard from you, your father must earn your love. We are one in the same, only speaking from the other side.”

With that, she put down the blade and began to clean up her hair. Jamie returned with the promised change of clothes. Once again, you truly felt out of your element. Out of your time. No way could you adjust to this. You needed to find your crewmates.

Yet your every being wanted to know how this jousting match would go. Did they know Regina would be underneath?

They allowed you to stay with them that evening. You appreciated their hospitality. Not that you had any other options. Staying with them would help you recover for one evening. Maybe even get a sneak peek into the match tomorrow.

As the sun rose the next day, the father and daughter were busy getting ready for the match. You were led to the stadium where it would take place. Such a quaint, yet interesting setup. Almost like a Renaissance Festival come to life. One you vaguely remember going to as a child. People filled the stadium, finding places to sit on the wooden bleachers. You took your spot near the front to get the best view. If anything, you would enjoy the history lesson coming to life. Yet your heart still ached for Regina. Trying to earn a father’s love that never would accept her for who she was.

The jousting match began. Sir Reginald had quite the height difference from the opposing man. The husband stood a good foot and a half taller, but she managed to hold strong. Truly, her form was spectacular! The horse didn’t falter, and she stayed steady.

CLANG!

The lances once again collided with the opponents’ shields. Both of the knights were knocked back, but kept their balance. You couldn’t believe how invested you became. How much you wanted Regina to win. Not for her father’s honor, but possibly for her own.

Another clang rang out, this time shattering the husband’s shield. He fell backwards and off his horse. The stadium erupted into cheers as everyone began cheering for the winner.

You had the biggest yell of excitement out of them all. Happiness overtook you as the knight gave a bow and trotted off. A fist pump and another whoop came from deep in your lungs. Perhaps not all was bad in this time period. You’d never felt this much excitement over anything. Surprised it took a jousting match to bring such spirit out of you.

Your cheers suddenly stopped as you looked across the arena and locked eyes with Pilot Dodge.