Time Machine ~ Parts 1 & 2

1

Hello. I will be your guide for tonight. Please, strap yourself into the time machine with the bright red safety belt and keep your eyes wide open. Prepare for a once in a lifetime experience.

“Please, sire. Hear me out. I only…”
“Silence!” You hear a thundering shout echo through what sounds like a vast, nearly empty room. Looking around, you see a great stone hall. You look up and see wonderful stained glass windows lining the top of one of the walls. You look down from the windows to see detailed carvings in the stone, and even further down, a large stone throne. On the throne is seated a large man, who’s face is quite the color of maroon. He is dressed in a red tunic-like garment reaching down to his feet with a leather belt around his waist. Draped around him is a long blue cloak, and on his head is a crown that looks quite heavy. He holds a scepter and is emphatically beating the end of it on the arm of his throne.
“Listen, we fight. If we do not fight, we die!” His voice booms through the hall again. He is obviously the king.
“If we fight, we die. Would rather lose all your men, or have most of them alive?” says the man, apparently the king’s advisor. “If you surrender now, the only men we will lose are the ones we have lost already.” The king shifts his weight back into his seat and grunts.
You realize you shouldn’t be there, and analyze your position. You stand behind a large pillar, which is about seven yards from the men. Even though you have a clear view of them, they seem to be oblivious to your presence. You walk out from behind the pillar and walk towards them. Hearing the clicking of your shoes, you look down. Mosaics cover the floor, and even though they’re made of grey stone, they reflect all the colours of the rainbow from the stained glass. You slow down to admire it, then continue towards the king and his advisor.
“Sire,” the man continues. “We must stand down this one time. If we refuse to surrender, those Western dogs shall overthrow us.”
“Send for food. I tire of these debates.” The king is apparently through with this conversation, and will not continue until food is brought. Food is his only consolation, or so it seems from his prodigious girth.
By this time, you have reached the throne. You wave your hand back and forth in front of the king’s face. He takes no notice. You say, “Hello,” quietly, but he continues to sit as if nothing is happening. You shout, but again, nothing happens. You look around and see a door at the opposite end of the hall.
Quickly, you start walking in the direction of the door, when a man enters from a door three steps to your left carrying a large platter covered in bread, cheese, and a variety of foods new to you. Stopping suddenly and trying not to run into the man, you gasp in horror as your leg seemingly grazes his leg. You hold out your arms to catch the platter, but strangely enough, he simply walks through them. In this strange event you have just learned that you are much like a ghost in this town.
You run towards the door, and try to grab the handle. Your hand seems to grab thin air. Again, but in vain, you try to hold the handle. Then, tentatively, your arm reaches out, so your fingers go through the door. Astonished, you continue to stretch your arm out until your shoulder goes through, including your clothes. You reach through the door with your other arm, until it goes through up to your shoulder. Then, cautiously, you press your nose against the door, only now there is no door. Your face goes completely through, as does the rest of your body, and you stand in shock for a couple seconds. You are now standing in another room, quite like the last only smaller and without any furnishings.

Hello. Understand anything yet? A male’s voice speaks to you. You shake your head in confusion, and look around to see if someone spoke to you.
Hello. I am in here. You grab your head and shout, “Who are you?”
I’m your guide, do you not remember? You are inside the time machine.
“What’s happening?” you say loudly, feeling very agitated.
Welcome to The Byzantine Empire. That man in there was the Emperor. It’s the middle of the Fourth Crusade. There is a girl you should follow. That is all I will tell you. Have a good time.
“Wait! Wait! Please, where is she?” you yell. There is only silence.

2

You stagger through the crowd in a semi-drunken stupor. Even though you seem to bump into everyone, but you feel nothing, and you continue your winding way toward an unknown destination. You see an alley and lurch towards it. You try to put your hand on the wall of gray stone, but simply fall through. Exhausted and confuse, you plop on the ground and lay back, trying to organize your frazzled thoughts.
After five minutes of gathering your senses and replaying the events of the past twenty minutes over and over in your head, you sit up. A sudden rush runs through your body and your sight dims for a split second. You cannot remember the last time you ate or drank anything. You assess your current position. You touch all your limbs; no pain anywhere. You pinch your wrist, to make sure you are still conscious. Pain shoots through your forearm. You lick your dry lips. You need to find water somewhere, but you realize that it would be somewhat impossible considering you are not capable of touching anything in this strange, ancient world.
The girl, you think. I need to find the girl, but where? You puzzle over this new predicament for a second.
Have you figured it out yet? That voice again.
“What?” you ask calmly. Now that you have regained a bit more control of your mind, you can reason a bit more. It’s the time machine! Of course. You smack yourself in the forehead for not realizing it before.
Good job, but do not hurt yourself. Now, find the girl. Use discretion.
“Discretion?! Nobody knows I exist!” There is no reply from the voice. “Do they?” you ask, half to yourself.
You cough. You need to find water. Your throat is burning and your voice is dying. As you stand, your vision dims again for half of a second, then returns. How can you get a drink if you cannot even rest against a wall?
You leave the alley and continue through the town. There is apparently a market going on. The sounds of people bartering, animals squealing, children laughing, and all sorts of other noises barrage your ears. You can also smell everything: people, sweat, food, and smells you would rather keep the source unknown. The worst is the food. Bakeries, fruit and vegetable stands, slaughterhouses, they all fill your nostrils with scents of good, and not-so-good, food.
In vain, you try to snatch an apple from the nearest fruit stand. You swipe at a string of onions hanging from the top of a vegetable stand, but your hand just passes through the tantalizing roots.
You keep walking, slowly but surely, through the market. If you stay there for much longer you are sure you will go insane [Author’s note: if it’s not too late already @)~]. Finally, after twelve agonizing minutes of passing through more people, walking by more stands, and smelling more food, the crowds thin and you find yourself on a wide dirt pathway. Continuing on your way, you occasionally come across another living being; a man leading a donkey, a couple with a small child and a cart full of corn, a soldier or two.
After a while, there are no more people on the road. However, you see a little cottage a fair way in the distance. Unfortunately, the sun is beginning to set. It gets dimmer and dimmer as you get closer and closer to the cottage. You do not, however, worry yourself about robber. Who would mug an invisible person?
The sun completely sets, and you stand on the empty road. The silence is eerie. No ambient noise from cars or millions of people crammed into tiny living spaces. There is just silence, broken with an occasional owl hoot. You look up and gasp; the stars are magnificent. With no streetlights, or house lights, billions and billions of stars are visible. You can see so many that in places they form a solid mass of pinkish-yellow light. The moon begins to rise, and it seems as if the stars shy away from it like slaves shy away from a great, or cruel, master. An animal cry shakes you out of your reverie, and you start walking again towards the cottage.

There may or may not be more. If you continue to pester me, there will be more. :)
Also, I apologize for the lack of indentation. Blogger apparently doesn't like good grammar.