Nervously, he looked around his cell. The cold stone floor was solid. Knees bent, arms resting on the floor, he sat and waited for something to happen. The questions kept spinning through his head like a vinyl record. He had been sitting at his computer— No, he had stood up to get himself some coffee, right? It had been one of those endless nights in which he’d wanted to finish one of his projects. Yes, but what had happened then? After that, everything had gotten black before the light had hit him.

He stacked up the straw to a pile and rested his head on it. Fear and nervousness rampaged through his thoughts. How did he get into those ruins? He could still hear the echoes of the shovels and pickaxes in his head that had freed him out of that small room in the old temple. But it was not those things that scared him but the ones who had wielded them: deer. Talking deer, and if their eyes only remotely reflected their mind, they had been just as surprised to see him as he was.

They had finally seemed to realize what he was, and panic had broken loose. They had stumbled over each other as some ran away. It seemed like they had been yelling something, but he hadn’t understood a word. To him, the words were only nonsense. A very tall deer, with a long goat beard and small glasses on his snout, had finally eyeballed him, spoke a few words, and then he had ended up in this cell. The walk to said place was a very blurry experience. What was going on? How did he deserve this?

He slowly dragged a hand down his face and noticed that something was missing. His loyal companions, his glasses. That explained the blurry tour. Slowly, he started recovering from the first shock and tried listening to his clamouring senses. The darkness flooded his mind once again. It was as if he had been holding his breath the entire time and breathed for the first time when the light came.

A muffled knock sounded, as though stone had struck wood, and he looked around nervously. They were returning. They were coming to take him. In the distance, he could see the light of a torch that was coming closer. It was more than one, at least three or four. He forced himself into the corner of his cell as far as he could, but they would find him anyway.

A deer, accompanied by two others, entered the room with his cell. It didn’t have antlers like the other two, who had actual crowns resting on their head. Instead, it had a necklace of flowers around its neck and papers in its mouth. He couldn’t see what it was, but this deer had a couple of sheets with writing on it. Now it nodded to the other two and said something with a light and pleasant voice. It was a female, and the word doe went through his mind. One of her escorts hung the torch into a sconce in the wall.

Slowly, he focused on the doe again, who slowly, very slowly, took a few steps towards him, and then.... bowed down? He didn’t understand what was going on, not at all. She lifted her head again, laid the paper on the ground, and sat down, similar to how a dog would. Although he had no knowledge of the anatomy of a deer, he knew that this shouldn’t be possible. Her eyes went a few times across the paper, and then she opened her mouth. “You... me, understand?”

He stared back, his mouth agape. Did this being, this animal, really just talk to him? That was incredible! Animals shouldn’t be able to speak, and yet here he was, seemingly facing a talking doe! The fear was gone and made room for the curiosity. Quickly, he moved towards the bars and closer to the doe. “Yes,” he replied to her.

Her smile went over both ears, which, according to his memories, shouldn’t be possible either. Quickly, her eyes focused the paper again, and he tried to get a glance at it. On one of the sides were unknown symbols, and something was written on the other one. He tried to read it but failed. Out of pure habit, he tilted his head and finally realized that it was upside down. The opposite of the hieroglyphs were simple English words. They were translations! “How your name?” the doe asked. He was still fascinated by the paper. These beings seemed to have their own language. Calling them deer, he therefore found, was rather unfitting. They had a language and obviously a culture. No matter how he had arrived here, he wanted to know more. The curiosity of his human nature was awoken. “Name?” she asked again.

Like waking from a dream, he looked up to her and blinked. She wanted his name, and like he learned from every bad movie, he pointed his hand at himself. “Timo.”

The doe faced him fiercely and repeated. “Thiemo?”

He lifted an eyebrow and again pointed at himself. “Timo.”

“Thiemo?” the doe repeated. He got a tad annoyed but calmed himself instantly. She didn’t want to mock him like his former English teacher. She had called him, because of defiance or because she just couldn’t stand him, only Tino, no matter how often he corrected her.

“Fine, Thiemo.” He waved it off with his hand. Something else, something new had priority. He wanted to get out of here and see what was outside, to see where exactly he was stranded. This wouldn’t happen if he kept discussing his name with his new acquaintance. In the past, he had complained about his mother’s creativity while giving names anyway, and Thiemo already sounded a bit better than Timo.

“Fine Thiemo,” the doe responded and pointed a hoof at him. Yes, this would take a while.

“Thanks,” he said to the two deer who escorted him back into his room. They only nodded and closed the heavy pair of doors behind them. Tired as he was, he fell on the bed, freed his feet from the wooden sandals, and threw them in the corner.

Somebody cleared their throat. “Are you doing that on purpose?” It was the same doe who visited him more than five months ago in his cell. She stood in a corner of the room with a dark look on her face. A lot had happened since that day, but the most important thing for him was that his situation had changed a full one eighty degrees. The temple he was found in was built by an extinct species of this world. Albion was its name, and it was not only populated by deer but also other creatures, some more and some less mystical. There were gryphons, minotaurs, diamond dogs, ponies, horses, cows, and many more. It was just like a fantasy novel. Magic existed, or at least Deerling told him it did. Sadly, the deer relied on technology as they couldn’t use magic. The zebras in the far south were the nearest folk that were capable of using it. “I don’t want to always have to clean up after you.” She was not only the one who was teaching him the Equestrian language, which was spoken everywhere on Albion, but also the servant the king of the deer had commanded to aid him. Even more, she was a friend, a very good one.

The reason behind all this luxury still made him smirk. The temple was thousands of years old and was located in a chamber which was, at least for the same time, sealed. Thus, they saw him as an immortal god of an ancient race. A race of monkeys. At least the figures suggested it. He was, accordingly, quickly transferred from the cell into the biggest guest room in the gigantic palace.

Actually, it was more of a palace university. The technological deer held a high value on knowledge and education, and thus two central facilities were merged into one. The whole thing was a complex of multiple hollows with connected trees, immense in height and width. Bridges connected the single trunks and broad stairs closed the gap between floors. They were located in a perfect circle as if they had been grown for this very purpose. In the middle of all this was the tree with the royal instalments. It was so large that its crown scraped the sky. When he had heard for the first time that he had to go up there, he had nearly fallen unconscious. Luckily, there was a primitive lift: a scaffold made of wood, some thick ropes, and a large stone as counterbalance. Just what the deer called technology. He would have bet all his money that the hoist was the newest toy, except that he didn’t have any money.

So the deer treated him like a god and brought oblations and bananas, one of the first words he had learned in the local language. Due to a funny misunderstanding, it was now part of his new name. When he was presented to the king of the deer, a stag by the name of Rehgard, he found he was only able to understand a tiny portion of their language. When he was asked for his name, he interpreted it as being asked whether or not he wanted something to eat. He had responded with the only word he thought he knew: Bananarama. From that day on, he had been known as the monkey god, Bananarama, living and learning about the world of Albion in the palace-university of the deer as their guest. Deerling knew that he was no god but a rare being nonetheless, one who was worthy of being studied. Therefore, she had failed to correct the king on the misunderstanding.

“Sorry, Deerling, but I ran multiple times over the whole complex. I’m done.” She only sighed in annoyance, collected the sandals, and stored them away. He had learned the language quickly, though he had not completely mastered it. All he needed was practice. It was similar to the Japanese - written as spoken. Speaking was easy when you first had the right vocabulary in your mind and knew how to arrange them in sentences. The writing was more complex than some math exercises, a mixture of strokes, curved lines, and accents here and there. By his current speed, he would be eighty before he could even read or write a single phrase. The numbers were an exception. For some strange reason, they were the ones he knew.

She sighed. “It’s okay. I used to be a student here just like you. The campus is gigantic, and untrained bodies quickly lose their breath.” She was right. His body had already visibly changed. The new vegetarian diet and the running showed their effects on the untrained body of the former Informatician. “Still, you could help me a little with my tasks. You are no fawn after all.” He waved her off with his hand, signalling that he understood. “About what did professor Krone talk to you about today?” He loved philosophizing with her over the new things he learned and to exchange opinions. She had studied old languages and the history of Albion here.

“We got a glimpse of the magic and which beings have a natural access to it.” Magic had quickly become his favourite subject. Which human would feel any different? The two of them had also agreed that magic was the reason he had landed here. So if there was a way back for him, then magic was the key to finding it. “Too bad deer don’t have magical powers.”

Deerling jumped next to him on the bed and laid down. “Yes, sometimes I pity it as well, but we can’t change it. But what exactly fascinates you so much about magic? You said the beings of your world don’t have any.” Quickly, he sat upright and looked in her eyes.

“It is a dream of humans. Our “magic” is only illusion, more tricks than anything. But here, it is real. Although I miss my family and friends, this is also an opportunity to learn something new. Something that no human before me has done.” They stared at each other in silence. He knew where this topic led. She knew where this topic led.

“Magic is something nobody here can teach you,” she finally said. “You'd have to travel to the zebras. They found a way, without horn or anything similar, to make use of these powers.” And that meant that he would have to leave the kingdom Cervidas and the city Concordia behind him and charter into an unknown world. Alone. The thought depressed him.

“Maybe I really should,” he answered lost in his thoughts. “I mean, I’ve learned a lot here about the world, but to see it is different.” He loved books, but he still was a man who learned more when he could touch something. Maybe that was also caused by his impatience, not wanting to spend time on investigations but to just simply do.

Deerling leaned towards him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Think of what you want to do. All you would have to do is ask King Rehgard for a map and some supplies. I am sure he would support your decision.” She rose from the bed and walked to the door. “I wish you a good night.”

He waved to her. “Good night.”

The idea of exploring the world had haunted him for quite some time already. But since the talk with Deerling about a month ago, it had turned into a plan. He just didn’t know when the right time was to execute it. “Sorry prof, I can’t really remember much.” At the moment, he was sitting alone with Krone in the large lecture hall, inspecting an old relic. The staff of unknown metal, a leather grip in the middle and with different engravings, was found next to him in the chamber. Since that day, they had been trying to find out what it was good for. Until now, without success.

“Don’t worry, kid. Not even gods can be all-knowing. Especially if they have been sleeping thousands of years.” His sad voice had a vapid aftertaste. Thiemo was no god and definitely not a thousand years old. Even if he keep staring at the staff, it wouldn’t recall any memories. “Maybe you should take hold of it for a while,” he suggested. “It could help your memory come back if you have your staff with you.”

He only nodded. “Prof, may I ask something?” The old deer signalled that he was open for everything. “Do you think it is possible that magic was involved? I mean, in what got me into this position?” He only scratched his chin and looked at the staff again.

“This staff may indeed be a magical artefact. It would explain why we couldn’t find out anything.” He began walking around the desk. “That would be likely. After all, you’re still a god. I can’t imagine any other force being able to.” Aside from the fact that he was none, he couldn’t imagine something else either.

“Wouldn’t it be wise, then, if I studied a bit of magic?” The old deer sighed shortly but followed by a grin. He went over to Thiemo and laid a hoof on his shoulder. It was no problem for him since the deer were nearly as tall as a human. Rehgard was nearly twice as tall as he. Deerling, on the other hand, reached up to his throat. Sometimes literally. What would good friends be if they wouldn’t go for your throat now and then?

“I have waited for the day you would ask.” Surprised, Thiemo looked at the professor as he released him and steered towards a cupboard on the wall. “Do you think I haven’t noticed how your eyes brighten up when the subject of magic comes up?” He chuckled. It must have been really obvious. “Therefore, I talked to the king for you. He shares my opinion that you should learn as much about this world as possible so that you can retake your rightful place.” With his snout, he pulled out an old book and placed it on the table. “This is a book about the culture of the zebras in the south. If you really want to learn something about magic, this would be a good start.”

Cautiously, he picked up the book and skimmed the first few pages. They were filled with illustrations of plants, some gems, and things like tribe-specific jewellery, “Thanks, professor.” He clapped the book and clamped it under his arms. ”I think I’ll ready myself for a little journey, eh?”

Again, the old deer smirked. “Apparently.” He handed over the staff as well and said, “Maybe the zebras also know what to do with this. Just remember to bring us the results when you return.” Content, he accepted the staff. “I think we are finished for today. Come to my office tomorrow, and then we will talk further about your journey, alright?”

“Sure, professor, see you tomorrow.” With full hands, he waved at him and made his way out of the room. In his head, one thought chased the next. But above all was pure excitement because he would travel. But the worst was that he would have to do so alone. Could he ask Deerling to accompany him? Would she be interested? There was so much open and so much left to settle. “I hate investigations," he muttered. He wouldn’t get around them in the next days and weeks though.

Author's Notes:

Yes, I am alive. Was out to catch a nasty cold and so... yeah, you probably get the idea.
So, but for today only this little intermission. Act 2.1 is following in the next couple of days, when again the mighty proofreader faktopus is done with it.

A second time edited by JBL. Thanks buddy!