beasts, machines and snowflakes
with nothing more than a few mistakes
four
Gawain had found it difficult to put on the clothing given to him, but a knight must accept and conquer every challenge they may face…thus, he was able to dress himself properly. His left shoulder ached, but it seemed that the capsule she had given him the night before worked wonders since he was in severely less pain; he thought it could be like the Opium that was given to them when they were in horrid pain. He found a zipper to be most intriguing thing in accordance to modern clothing for it was nearly like a stitch which came undone and done at one's own request. He also tried to tidy up the best he could, fixing the mess he had made the previous evening and somewhat succeeding. Though, he could not really remember where everything was placed.
He left the washroom only to be met by Jeanne, who was sitting on the bed and looking down at her phone. "My lady," he spoke, catching her attention, "these clothes, what fabric are they made of? These trousers, I have never encountered such a strong and rough fabric, surely this is not naturally made."
"That's what we call 'denim', it's mostly artificial fabrics," she said as she stood from the bed.
"I must also ask, how skilled are the makers of this tunic? They can make something so detailed without embroidery."
"Those are prints." Jeanne fixed her sweater, "They are made by a machine. Machines much like a windmill or watermill that work by themselves. Now, we better get going before anyone else wakes up. Here, put this jacket on and we should be off."
He nodded, slipping into the jacket and failing to put the zipper together due to the pain in his arm (which he could not put through the sleeve of the jacket either).
Jeanne demonstrated how to put the zipper in place before zipping it closed, and he seemed to enjoy playing with it; at least it kept him distracted. She had also put a makeshift arm sling to keep his arm in place. It was a wonder his shoulder was not swollen, even though it should have been.
"Oh," he called.
She looked towards him, "Yes?"
"My sword." He took it from its place at the foot of the bed and began to strap it around his waist with much trouble as he only had one hand to do it.
"What are you doing?" She asked, eyes widening.
He furrowed his brows, "Taking my sword with me, my lady. A knight must always carry his sword in case any danger is to present itself, especially if it be that he travels with a lady. All the more I should sport my sword."
Jeanne shook her head. "No, no, nowadays no one carries swords."
"What? That is most irresponsible. A sword is an essential part of a knight. What do knights do nowadays?"
"People that are knighted by the Queen usually are artists, soldiers who have out done themselves or football players."
"Queen? Artists? There must be a million questions I wish to ask."
Jeanne frowned, realizing there was so many things he needed to catch up on. "Well, to begin with, England has a Queen right now, she's been ruling for sixty-something years and artists are those who sing and become famous, not artists as in painter and sculptors."
"How queer. Knights do nothing nowadays…What are football players?"
"People that play football?" She shrugged, "I'll show you when we get to campus. Now, we should really be off. Leave the sword, if you take it with you, you will be arrested."
"Arrested? How so if there be no knights?"
She blinked, "The police will arrest you for having a weapon out in public and you could get sentenced to jail time."
"Police? What is The Police?"
"The Police is a British rock band; the Police… is an organized system to implement the laws of the Kingdom and arrest those who break such laws that are fundamental to our society. Police officers also are established to protect the citizens from any threat."
"How amazing! By this logic, a Knight is a police."
"A Police officer, yes."
"Extraordinary!"
Jeanne nodded. "Now, we really need to get going or else my mother will wake up soon."
They had made it to the kitchen with a few groans of the wooden floorboards, but they did not seem to make so much noise as to wake anyone up. In the kitchen, Jeanne pulled out the sandwiches she had made for her lunch the previous evening and gave one to Gawain as well as two more pain killers before they crept towards the door (of course he had asked many questions about the kitchen). The only thing that the man had kept were his boots since she had no winter boots for him.
The weather outside was not harsh, per se, but the wind burned their cheeks and noses. They trudged through the high and rough snow, but at least there was no snow blizzard. If you have ever truly encountered snow, you know very well that a snow-less cold windy winter day is much colder than a snowy winter day.
"The sack you carry, it is very practical, I very much admire the handiwork and the great mind that came up with such a smart style." Gawain had not moved his eyes from Jeanne's purple backpack and seemed quite amazed by it.
"Thank you," she smiled, "it was also made by a machine."
"Machines are truly the future, are they not?"
"Yes."
It wasn't a better timing to reach the road and have a car whoosh past them. The knight stumbled back onto the snow with a yelp. "W-what beast was that? Such noise, such figure; it is a frightening thing!"
Jeanne offered a hand and he took it with gratitude. "That was a car," she said as she helped him to his feet.
"A car? What is it?"
"Another machine. It is somewhat like a carriage, it transports people without the need of a horse."
He watched the road and saw a few more cars, he was still frightened; his heart beating rapidly and his eyes staring in torment. "Are they dangerous?"
She swayed her head. "They can be if driven carelessly."
They had reached what she called a bus stop and waited for a 'bus'. When it did come, she tapped a card against what he assumed was another machine and handed the driver a ticket. They took a seat at the back of the bus and once the bus moved, Gawain jumped to his feet immediately.
"H-how does it move without so much as one horse?" He asked, sitting back down and calming his poor heart, seeing as no one was frightened. "Is it magical?"
She sighed, "It's an engine. It uses torque and causes combustion so that energy is formed, and the car moves."
"Torque? What is that?"
"Pistons, basically."
This went on, she explained everything he had questions on and helped him understand many other things. He had wondered about what had happened to horses, about cables, about dresswear and many other things. Everything was an adventure, and this was surely an experience he would never have again.
They reached campus in nearly thirty minutes and luckily the bus connections had favoured them for Jeanne had said that sometimes it would take nearly an hour to get to school.
Gawain's eyes were filled with wonder and he was starstruck. Everything he saw, he questioned or analyzed in deep thought. He seemed a lot like a child; in the way he explored and marvelled.
"This is a university? Commoners and merchants can attend university nowadays? How kind! Universities were a rare thing—there were none in England—and only ever in Rome in my time. Does the Queen pay? How do the commoners afford such a luxury?" He questioned, touching the copper wall and looking at all the posters.
Jeanne shrugged, "Something like that. The government pays for very poor people but its something like a loan, you would have to pay it back whenever you can."
"But that is still kind. What about farmers? Are there still farmers? Do they attend schools?"
"Well, yes, there are still farmers and they attend schools too."
"I am appreciating this world more and more. Though, I still wish to return. I prefer my England."
"Jeanne?"
Jeanne turned to see her best friend, arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her lips. Gawain noticed that she too wore trousers and a thick blue jacket with real fur on the hood, not like the fake fur he had.
He bowed. "Greetings, fair lady. I am Gawain of Orkney, the Ladies' Knight."
Arturia frowned. "Who's this?" She asked, looking over at Jeanne as Gawain slowly stood.
Jeanne sighed, "It's a long and crazy story. You won't believe me."
"A long story? Then you better begin telling me before class starts."
The cafeteria was usually very silent in the morning. People that had morning classes were tortured souls that still wished to be snuggled in the warmth of their blankets and not sitting at school, so, campus in the morning was silent and peaceful as people slept in the library or in their classrooms. Plus, with the snow storm, it was likely that many students would not even dream of going to school.
Arturia scoffed, "You expect me to believe that?" They were the only ones in the cafeteria at the time, except for the people that were working.
Gawain was sitting next to Jeanne, poking the smartphone as Jeanne had lent it to him so he could play with it. Arturia sat across from them and tried to analyze the man for a long time.
"You know that I never lie." Jeanne scratched her neck, having taken off her jacket for the cafeteria was always the warmest spot in the university.
Arturia huffed. "That's the problem. You never do, but this is too ridiculous to believe."
Gawain lifted his head. "If I may so say a word, dear ladies, I testify that the lady Jehanette's accounts are as real as can be. Although I feel I am still in such a dream, I could never let such a caring lady be discredited."
The Englishwoman leaned her head on her hand. "Tell me, Gawain—"
"Please call me Sir Gawain, Lady Arturia. The title was granted to me by my mighty and brave King for having helped in the great battle against the Saxons." He looked up as if stuck in a daydream or remembering the great feat.
"Sir Gawain," Arturia nearly growled, "you really do play the part well, but I suggest you do not play along with Jeanne's first farce."
Gawain jumped to his feet, chair tumbling to the floor and the crashing sound echoing all over the cafeteria. "I do implore with the most respect, lady Arturia, do not make light of the lady Jehanette's troubles and toils. This is as much troublesome for her as it is for me; she is being truthful and has offered me so much hospitality and she is very brave."
Arturia stared at him in surprise and slight annoyance. "Okay, you can sit now."
Slowly, head still held high, he sat. "The lady Jehanette is nothing near a swindler."
"I know." Arturia blinked. "That is what forces me to believe this…This is really impossible. How could a man jump through time? That's ridiculous."
"I find it hard to believe as well, lady Arturia, and I am still discovering this world and continuing to be frightened by such advancement and machinery, but I can assure you that I am surely not of this world."
"So, what now?" Arturia looked at Jeanne.
Jeanne ran a hand through her hair, slumping onto the table. "We have to find a way to get him back to where he belongs. I just don't know how we could do it. What if he can't return?"
Gawain gasped, "My lady, please, do not say something so…I wish to return very much and if I cannot…I will surely…"
"It's a possibility," Arturia deadpanned, "We must be prepared to face it."
"This England is not for me, ladies, I live to be a knight and aid my king. There is no way I could possibly live a life in such a…" Gawain stared at them in anguish.
"Don't worry," Jeanne mumbled, "I'm sure we'll come up with something and get you home."
