Some people get lucky when they're sent to another world. They get to wake up nice and easy in a field of grass, or a friendly face shakes them awake. They find a man with blue hair and his blonde sister standing over them, or maybe a silver-haired youth in strange armor.
I wasn't one of the lucky ones.
I woke up to the earsplitting sound of metal being broken, immediately followed by a crash of thunder. I bolted to my feet, glancing around wildly. This was not where I went to sleep. I did not go to sleep in my casual clothes. That looked like a fucking dragon.
I was standing in what looked like a temple, albeit one that had just been absolutely thrashed by either a fight or a party. There was what looked like a dragon made out of stone lying on the ground. A large man with a white beard and intricate red armor, like some kind of demented Santa Claus, lay on the ground by the dragon's head, and something shiny was between them, reflecting what little light came from a circular hole in the ceiling. Dust and bits of rock were settling, like something huge had just landed after a huge drop.
That definitely wasn't good.
So, like any sane person would, I pinched myself. "Ow!" And away fluttered my hope that this was just a really strange dream. This was real. I had no idea where I was or why I was there, and there was a guy, something shiny, and what was looking more and more like a petrified dragon on the floor nearby.
Well, I had a bit of an idea where I was, but I didn't want to believe it. I really, really hoped I was wrong.
Something made me inch closer to the shiny thing. Getting closer, it looked like a sword- one without a hilt. There was a clear end of the blade, but the base was just a flat edge. No grip, no crossbar, no hilt, just a naked blade.
I blinked, then looked around again. Broken sword, dead slash petrified dragon, unconscious Santa knockoff.
Oh, shit.
I moved again, kneeling down to pick up the blade, and as soon as I felt its weight in my hand it hit me.
I was standing in the Temple of Mila. That was Mila herself, petrified on the ground, and Emperor Rudolf was over there, unconscious. I was holding the Falchion of Valentia, and it was broken with no hilt in sight. On second thought, the little bits of gold metal everywhere might have been what was left of the hilt.
I was in Valentia, just after Mila's death, holding the useless blade of the Kingsfang.
And that groan sounded like Rudolf was starting to stir, so instinct took over and I ran.
Welcome to Valentia, Isaac Politzer.