As soon as Henryk and the farmer entered the count's house, the boy, as if scalded, put his jacket back on. It was much colder inside than outside. It was so cold he could almost see his own breath. He quickly rubbed his hands together to warm himself. Meanwhile, the farmer watched him without emotion.
Inside this large house, a long, wide hallway could be seen, lined with doors to other rooms. In the center of the hallway stood a table, and on it, in a glass case, sat a blue sculpture of a rooster, made of a material Henryk didn't recognize. He walked closer to the case to take a closer look. Perhaps it was a diamond?
"Pretty cool, huh?"
This male voice didn't belong to the farmer. A shorter man appeared out of nowhere next to Henryk, with a slightly rounded figure and a black beard that covered his entire neck. He also wore something that reminded the boy of a beret with a feather, resembling the feather of a hawk or some other bird of prey. The shorter man wore a dark blue jacket that looked rather expensive. But the most striking feature was his broad smile, his teeth free of any visible dirt.
"I bought it recently at a decent price."
"Count Korin. I brought this young man," the farmer said, bowing to the man. "I suspect he may be..."
"Yes. Yes. I understand!" the Count shouted, not letting him finish. "I'll take this boy for a talk to explain everything. You can get back to work."
At his command, the farmer bowed his head once more and left the house.
"Come on, kid. Let's talk."
With that, the Count placed his hand on Henryk's shoulder, leading him to the nearest room. In the center of the room stood a rather large desk, and on the right side of the room stood a huge bookshelf.
"Please, sit down," the so-called count said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. "Let me begin by introducing myself. My name is Jarrett Korin, and I am the current ruler of this domain by order of the king."
Henryk sat down, placing his backpack beside him. The Count also sat down at his desk. He scratched his beard. For a moment, as he looked at Henryk, he seemed to be considering something. Finally, he asked him a question.
"What's your name, young man? I'm not asking because I'm more curious, and it's easier to talk when you know the other person's name."
"Well, er... My name is Henryk, sir... Henryk Zielczyk."
"So, what brings you to my domain, Henryk?" Jarrett asked, resting his chin on his hands and his elbows pressed against the desk.
"You know... I actually ended up here by some crazy accident."
"I see. So you don't know how you got here, right?"
The boy nodded in confirmation of the count's words.
"So where are you from? From another village?"
"Actually, the place where I live could be called a village." The boy laughed quietly, scratching the back of his head. "I'm from Jakubów, sir."
"Jakubów? I've never heard of such a province in my life. Or maybe it's a place from another country... God forbid... Are you from Khandar, or perhaps from the Tsuyonokuni Empire?"
[You've got to be kidding me, right?!] - Henryk thought, exasperated. [At first, I thought those two farmers were making fun of me because I didn't know where I was, and they played some stupid trick on me, making me think I was in some kind of medieval era. And that Korin guy is talking nonsense too. I understand that my generation is considered detached from reality, but come on.]
"No, sir, I don't come from any kingdom." Henryk's voice sounded impatient. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I just want to go home. It's nice that you have a play here or are filming another episode of the series "Kings," but I'm not here to let you get into character. Either tell me where I am and how to get to Jakóbów, or I'll just leave!"
Silence fell. Count Korin stared at Henryk like a bird of prey at its prey. Henry swallowed hard.
"Oh, by the merciful Xerda," said the count, lifting his head from his hands. He opened a drawer in his desk and took out a gold ring with a gray stone resembling a sapphire. "They keep sending younger and more impudent ones."
As he put on the ring, he raised his hand out of boredom and made a short gesture as if typing on a keyboard. A short whooshing sound of wind echoed throughout the office. Henryk screamed, flew out of his chair, and crashed hard against the door, bouncing off it and landing face-first on the boards.
Remaining stoic, Jarrett Korin snapped his fingers a few times as if to summon someone. It was no different; behind Henryk, who was lying on his back, the door opened.
"He called me, Mr... Oh my, I think this boy has a problem."
A man in black armor and a black knight's helmet emerged from behind the door with a dark spear in his hand.
"Yeah, time to have some fun." Korin said with a nasty smile.
At these words, the knight approached Henryk and looked him straight in the eye. Unfortunately, the boy couldn't do the same because of his helmet, which prevented him from seeing the knight's eyes.
He couldn't catch his breath. That strange impact from moments ago had completely knocked him out.
"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" The young man looked at the man behind the desk, wondering what had thrown him back so much.
As they stared at each other, Henryk suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back that made him cough up blood. He felt a liquid warmth spreading across his back.
Henryk screamed loudly, unable to get up from the floor. He tried to keep his eyes open, but the world began to blur in his mind. Before he lost consciousness, he heard the count laugh loudly, as if he were about to explode. He also heard the knight, who sounded tired.
"This is definitely not your lucky day, my friend."
When Henryk lost consciousness and Count Korin stopped laughing, he rose from his desk. As he approached the unconscious boy, he stomped on his head with his boot.
"Tsk, have you seen that pathetic piece of trash?!" Jarrett asked the knight who was looking at the boy whose head his master had stepped on.
"If I may ask, my lord, what did this boy do to deserve something like this?"
"You can't. Now take this scum to the dungeons, to the other scum." Suddenly, the count felt something sticky under his feet. It was Henryk's blood, as his knight stabbed him in the back with a spear. "Damn it, take him away quickly, his blood is staining my floor!"
The Black Knight sighed. He carried Henryk on his back and went to the place the Count had indicated to lock up the unknown young man.
"Oh, that's exactly how I wanted to spend today." The knight said to himself as he walked down the dark and gloomy corridor, blood dripping from Henryk's back onto the floor. "You should feel guilty, kid, you just screwed up my day."