Wen woke up. Her head hurt and her hands instantly flew up to her forehead to massage the affected areas. Surprisingly - and maybe, she had just dreamt it all? - her mouth was free of the cloth, and the cord did not hurt her tongue any more. However, what she did realize was that she was dressed in a light-brown tent dress, with a crest embroidered above her right breast; it was of a dark green toad, airborne, seemingly trying to catch something in its mouth.
"Huh. Weird. I guess I am in a fantasy world, or something... and maybe the guy that shoved me into — wait, what if he's some kind of gnome? Or, WAIT - where is he?" At that, the girl madly jumped up and looked about herself; she was in a boat. A little, red boat, which was sailing up a stream. And on either side of the girl stretched out trees - firs and hemlocks and oaks. While it was a beautiful sight, Wen was still quite upset and fought to keep her tears at bay.
Just then - snap! - and, out of a small hole in the floor appeared the dwarf, carrying a basket filled to the brim with Tillan food. Why - bannickses, sap wine, red cheese, creps (a bit like bread, but smooth and orange), Peonnies (much like sunflower seeds), trigil (another word for sausages) and two small cups, with peculiar illustrations embedded on them were just a half of the other things that the dwarf found whilst in the pantry in the boat.
They both had settled to eat, and the silence was broken by - "What is this?" For Wen pointed at a small jar of what seemed to be sauce, but white in colour with droplets of green spreading like watercolour in the creamy depths. It seemed edible - but, the girl had so many questions including - "Why am I in this hellish uniform?", "How did I get here?" and "Are you a gnome?" that asking about sauce - seemingly edible - was the least of her worries and, honestly, she just did not want to die of poison.
"Uh, it's..." the dwarf pulled at his beard. "You know... uh, Kirlsteins?" He then frowned, trying to square his shoulders but it resulted only in him toppling over himself and ending up on the brim of the boat, where he caught Wen's leg and steadily waddled back into his sitting position on the other side of the girl, who glared at him, obviously trying to say - without using her mouth - I could have ended up down there!
"No, but it seems seems like a good idea to tell me, maybe!" At that the girl crossed her arms over her chest and gloomily looked at the creature.
"Yes, it is... juice... made from Kirlsteins." The dwarf tried again. "Ah, it's a type of Fujah... very nice, good for you, a'fillin'... good... nice... eh?" And with that, he looked at the girl to see if she understood, but Wen simply continued to pout. "A Fujah is this," and he waved at a cluster of trees. "And, a Kirlstein is this," so he motioned for a fir.
"Oooooooooooh," trailed Wen. "Nice." And she moved her hand, fingers closing in over the spoon. "Glad you have this," and she laughed, spreading the cream over her crust less, orange-ey bread. "So, it is cream! Ah, how nice... isn't it? Wait... wait, when am I going to go home? I mean... like, back home?"
"On'y time shall a'tell... But here, in Consilii, it's my duty to look after you 'til' you a'get to the Castle. I promise, from the leader of my Dwarfish Clan - you know, I a'come from another planet completely, but have settled in the Mountains where you shall live too - that nobody is holding you a' captured. Yah may jump into the moat at Ruthenium Picke and nobody will a'miss yah, I promise!"
Wen nodded. But then... "Wait, so I am going to be a maid at the castle, yes? And will I have a lovely room? Can I go to a magical school, or something? And may I contact my family, somehow, to let them know I am safe? Yes? And this is Consilii... I take Latin lessons, you know! And... "Consilii"... it means..."
"You ar' a very loud girl," concluded the old dwarf wearily.
"And you're — oh, yes! Well, I am an extrovert, even though I know that Ksenia thinks otherwise! - so, YOU must be a very nasty gnome, yes?" But then the girl felt herself flush and corrected herself - "I mean, can you possibly be a dwarf? If so, I am sorry... I never liked gnomes... but I do like dwarves, because they are so jolly and plump (note from the author; never call a dwarf "plump") and -"
"Plump? Sounds like somethin' a'good for recovery," said the dwarf, his face shading into a purple. "Also, it seems like a very mean word... a'stupid... poor word, eh?"
"Okay, you're not plump - you're a man in your prime, okay? But I don't like to be called loud, though I am an extrovert... because... it's just very mean, okay? To call people loud is a sin where I live, and you don't want to go insulting a girl who shall live in a castle soon, do you? Eh? Eh? EH?"
The dwarf frowned. Clearly, he hadn't explained too much to the girl, and certainly she was trying to make a movie out of everything! So, balling up his hands into little fists, then quoth the dwarf through gritted teeth - "the Helper of the Times shall live in the Low Mountains!"
"Ah, I see... so now, you are sending me to the mountains! To serve at the castle! Well well well... that deserves a clap!" And then Wen very slowly and very properly put her hands together to form the most alarming of sounds using her fingers and her tongue, which she curled under her teeth and sent spit flying towards the poor creature.
"Sto' sto'..." the dwarf, as hard as he tried, at times could not pronounce the obnoxious letter "p", so he let out a low whistle and drew back his lips to talk. "The Low Mountains are more like high hills, honestly! ...No. S'rry; they are Mountains, but they are quite low for Mountains, and they have very smooth and flat stones and ground that connect together over a few of them at the same time, so there are little houses on the tops of the mountains with a'equipment, wood(en), that you can step into and they fly you a'down - a'workin' - to the trees, which are the borders of Consilii's Capital."
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