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Chapter 2: Who Says Change Is Bad?
Peter sat up and looked about him. Everything seemed the same as it had the day before, except for the missing tents and tables... and people. Though maybe the trees looked a bit more plentiful; and the air did taste a little more... wholesome. Peter stopped noticing the world around him and started noticing himself. His T-shirt, jeans, and shoes were gone. Instead, he was wearing a plain white cotton shirt and simple khaki shorts, but over these he had on other garments, garments he knew; a samurai's garb! And he would know, because he liked samurai so much. The top was pure white, at the arms tinted faintly with sky blue, which deepened at the edges. However, it was bound closed at the waist, not by a sash, but by a navy blue cord. Over his shorts he had very loose and flowing pants that came down to his ankles, so loose and flowing that, when he wasn't moving, they looked like some kind of skirt. They were a vivid cerulean.
But that was not all; he felt different too. There was a new type of energy flowing through his body, parallel but different from the energy that he had always felt. It was like now having two standards for what he could and couldn't do. Peter shivered at the thought and started looking around again. He was sitting with his legs out, propped up by his hands. Now looking at his right hand he saw a strip of cloth and a pair of shoes next to it. At least, he thought they were shoes. They looked too tall to be shoes, but too short to be boots. Putting them on, he decided that they were boots, because they went a little over his ankles and then folded down. Taking the cloth, he wrapped it around his head and tied the knot in the back. His hair was too short for him to tie it up, but he liked it anyway because it reminded him of samurai. Peter then looked over at his left hand and...and saw...he saw a Katana! He stared a second and then picked it up. Unsheathing it, he inspected the blade. He loved how the brand-new, undulled, unscratched metal flashed and reflected the light. He gazed wonderingly at it, turning it this way and that, hoping that this really was his sword. He had always wanted one. After a minute or two, he sheathed it and put it back down, telling himself, "I mean, maybe it's someone else's sword." Reflecting on this thought, Peter saw how unlikely it was. Who would just walk by him, stop, drop the katana, and then go on?
He slid the sword between his belt and clothes as he got up. But as he stood, Peter realized how vast the world was. He had assumed that this was the spot where he had gone to sleep, but though it was similar, it was different too. Some sixth sense warned him that this was not the same world and not to act like it was. He was totally nonplussed. He didn't know what to think or do, so he just stood there.
He was roused from his stupor when he heard someone yell, "Ahhhrg. Just go away, won't you!?" Peter turned about-face and ran into the trees where the voice had come and now other sounds were coming from. When he burst out of the other side of the woods a minute later, he saw who had yelled.
Anne. Her hair was let out and she was wearing a dark red short-sleeved shirt with a rectangular collar and light capris with a white sash tied around her waist. No shoes were on her feet. She was threatening a monster with a sword, both of which Peter remembered seeing in the book. The monster looked a bit like a green tree trunk, with dozens of tentacles at the bottom and dozens of yellow eyes at the top, having a mouth in between. Anne's sword was a type of katana with a straight back, unlike his, which had a slightly curved one.
Anne was annoyed. She had awakened in a tree and, very surprised, climbed down. That's when she had met the monster. Now, a few minutes later, they were down a hill and still neither had attacked. Anne had not dared to because the monster's teeth seemed so sharp and plentiful and because she was still so disoriented. She now turned around to see someone drawing a sword and running downhill, whom she recognized as Peter. As he ran past them, he gave a good, deep swipe at the ugly green creature. It slid backwards at the force of the blow and gave a shriek. Anne saw her chance and threw her weapon as hard as she could. The monster uttered a gasping scream as the sword pierced it to the hilt and slumped back. Silence. Anne pulled her sword out of the deceased monster, looked at Peter, and then smiled. He smiled back. Winning had put them in a slightly giddy mood. But when they looked at their swords they were astonished to see that no blood was on them. They looked at the monster and saw that he too had no marks on him, even though he was certainly dead.
A deep, commanding voice brought their attention back to the hill, where a tall man in armor suddenly boomed out, "K.O. verified. Judge Point awarded." He raised his hand and several small twinkling lights issued from it, which merged over Anne's unconsciously outstretched hand. They bonded together to make a shiny, metallic pebble that fell into Anne's palm. The armored man jumped onto the back of what looked like a mixture between an ostrich and a canary and rode away.
Anne absently moved her sash to put the pebble in a small, hidden waist wallet. "What was that about?" She asked.
