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"Emiliano, go finish your homework!"

Emiliano raised his hands in an act of surrender. "Alright, mami, no need to shout!"

"Why you–"

Emiliano sprinted up the steps into his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him. He locked it as an afterthought, and a satisfying click echoed throughout the room.

He looked at the untouched textbooks lying on his bed and sighed audibly. Picking up his phone, he flopped onto the bed and sank into the soft mattress, his aching shoulders finally relaxing after a long day at school.

He scrolled through TikTok for a while before reluctantly getting off the bed. He reached for the corked vials nestled inside his bag, popping them open and mixing them together like instructed in the textbook. He realised a minute too late that he had misread the text, panic setting in as he tried to pour the solution away but instead succeeding in knocking it over himself. The last thing he saw was the ceiling fan whirring softly overhead before everything went black.

...

Emiliano awoke to soft murmurs, like the rustling of leaves on pavement. His eyes fluttered open as he tried to sit up, his eyes squinting at the brilliant sunlight flooding into view. His arms felt like they were made of lead, dragging him down as if the earth itself was holding him back, refusing to let him rise. Being weighed down by an invisible force was not on his bucket list.

His efforts to move didn't go unnoticed, however, the whispers of confusion from the crowd ceasing although the tension in the air lingered. Emiliano managed to catch a glimpse of the people in front of him; young and old alike, dressed in rags with dirt on their faces. Children clung to their parents like vines, the adults standing resolute, their unwavering dedication to protect their loved ones till the end of time etched on their faces, though beyond the brave facade on their faces their eyes whispered tales of trepidation. Although like ancient oaks, standing steadfast, their resolve unshaken, their hands trembled, betraying their true emotions. The willows behind them danced in the autumn breeze, their gentle sway a haunting melody, reminiscent of mythical dryads from the tales of queens and pirates, their whispers woven into the pages of books worth much more than gold and it was at this did Emiliano realise this wasn't a dream, from the vials of chemicals he'd mixed came a potion of some sort that teleported him not into another dimension but into a book.

His mind raced, trying to figure out which book he'd been teleported to. His thoughts were all jumbled up into one big mess. When he'd created the potion it may have spilled onto his favourite storybook which had been right next to his workspace.

A booming voice snapped him out of his reverie. He glanced up to see an old man clad in ivory cloth, a stern expression on his face.

"Cardinal, Son of Cain–"

Shock coursed through his body. Cardinal? The villain? No, he must've heard the old man wrong.

He looked up, astonishment showing plainly in his russet eyes. "Pardon me, but did you say Cardinal?"

The old man gave him a funny look. "Yes, Lucian. Did you forget your own name?"

"Cardinal." Emiliano repeated. It rolled off his tongue easily as reality sank in. Now that he looked closer, he recognized these people. Speaking to him was Johnathan, the old prophet. And in the crowd was Mallory, the maiden of bad fortune, as well as so many more countless people he knew.

"As I was saying before I got interrupted, you will be burned at the stake for your crimes, is that clear, Son of Cain?"

Well what could he do? He was the villain in the story, and it was unlikely people would believe him if he said that he actually teleported into a book and was innocent. On the other hand, if he chose to stay here, he would be burned and never be able to go home. The only option was to escape, and figure something out along the way.

Jonathan was still droning on about his punishment–or rather Cardinal's punishment. If he could just turn around, he could make a run for it.

Jonathan turned.

Emiliano scrambled up and sprinted out into the woods. He could hear the villagers' cries for him to stop, and the heavy footsteps of the men chasing after him. He increased his speed and ran through the woods, his footsteps a blur, a mere hint of his fleeting presence, refusing to stop till the footsteps stopped and faded into nothing.

He collapsed on his knees, panting and gasping for air. He'd lost track of time while running and the sky was already dark. How long had he'd been running for? The adrenaline faded and he finally felt his aching legs, his body going limp from exhaustion. He curled up into a ball, making empty promises to himself of solace and home as he cried himself to sleep in this unknown land.