Generation 1: Emory; Chapter 1: Culture Shock

“I will NOT marry him, father! I don’t care what you say, I swear to you, I never will! I do not love him!” Emory shouted at her father.

“Emory, it is your duty to your people as a future Queen of England to marry the prince of France! As your father, and the King, I have the right to do with you as I please. Now go!”

“Maybe I don’t WANT to be the Queen! Has that ever occurred to you? I didn’t ask for this!”

Silent tears started streaming down Emory’s face. She hated feeling so helpless.“I said, go! Now!”

 She burst through the throne room doors, rushed the length of the castle and flew through the front gates. She had to get away. Away from here, away from the Prince of France, and away from her parents.

The year was 1675. The world was blossoming, new inventions were being created, new art and music styles were flourishing, and it was a great time to be in England. However, for Emory Stafford, it was a wicked year. She had become a young lady, an adult in the eyes of her country and was now eligible for marriage. Her father, keen to seal a treaty with France, had promised her hand in marriage to the young Prince. Emory, fueled by the new Renaissance ideals, yearned for love and happiness.

 She ran to hide in the canopy of woods that bordered the rear of the castle grounds. It was dark already, and very hard to see. She plopped down on the ground and sobbed.

 Her eyes closed against the blackness of the forest, she tried to wipe the memory of her past with the prince from her mind. She would never have to deal with him again. She would never go back.

Suddenly, her world began to spin. She laid down, thinking it was from all of the frustration and stress she was under. Soon, though, she was distressed to realize that it wasn’t her imagination. The forest floor was collapsing in on itself, and she was going in with it! She scrambled, trying to grasp something, anything that could hold her up. But everything around her seemed to be heading for this collapsing section of ground. 

She soon realized she wouldn’t be able to stop it, so she curled up into a ball, protecting her head, and felt herself slide down into nothingness.

The next thing she new, her closed eyes were greeted by a blinding flash of lights, and her ears felt like they would explode from the sudden array of unfamiliar noised she was hearing. Very surprised, she reluctantly opened her eyes to figure out where in the world she possibly could have gone.

 Emory let out a shriek of terror.
 

She caught a quick glimpse of fantastic, colored lights, massive carriage-looking things zooming past, and alien-like humans in outrageously tight clothing…

…and soon blacked out and fell onto the ground which she had just left.

When Emory awoke, she didn’t want to open her eyes, for fear of what she would see. She couldn’t hear anything- not the chirping of birds, the speaking of her parents in the hall of the castle, the bustling of her chambermaids as they prepared her outfit for that day…. Nothing. She knew she had to open her eyes eventually. She must.

Slowly and reluctantly, she opened her eyes. She was in an unfamiliar place, that was for sure. The bed on which she was laying was much smaller and more uncomfortable than the one in the castle. The walls were not made of stone, but some other material which she could not recognize. 

 Emory took a deep breath and got the courage to look around the room. Strange objects, devices, things she had never seen or even heard of before surrounded her.

A sweet small suddenly wafted into her nose. She inhaled deeply and realized how hungry she was. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep. But the sweet smell made a new realization come to her. She could hear a noise, a sizzling sort of noise coming from nearby. Unable to ignore her stomach anymore, she stood up and walked toward the noise. 

 When she reached the source of the noise, she let out a gasp and a little yelp. Averting her eyes, unable to look at him in his current state of dress (or lack thereof), she said, “Who are you? Why have you taken me? I demand you bring me back to my castle at once! And why in the WORLD are you not wearing proper court attire? I will not converse with you until you put some clothes on!”

The man chuckled a bit. “Calm down, it’s okay! You passed out on the street and I brought you in! You’re lucky I came by, the city is not a forgiving place.” He placed a strange plate of food on a small, nearby table.

 “And if my pajamas really offend you that much, I’ll go change. Here, have some breakfast” he said, offering her a seat. He left the room without saying another word.

 Speechless, but still starving, Emory sat down at the table.

 Giving the food a small taste, she began scarfing it down the moment the first bite hit her tounge. She had never tasted anything quite like it. A sweet bread with some sort of molasses, she decided. In no time, she had finished the whole plate and the man walked back in.

Now with a full belly, Emory came back to her senses.

 She stood up from the table. “What on earth are you wearing? Nevermind, at least you are covered. Now what is this you’re saying about passing out on the street? All I remember is being in the woods, and now I’m in some strange, unknown land filled with intriguing objects and the likes of you.”

 The man started to move closer to her.

 “It’s okay, honey, you must have had a rough night-”

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” Emory shouted. The man halted.

“It’s okay! I just want to help you! You’re lucky I let a stranger into my apartment!”

 “Listen, I don’t know what happened to you or why you were on the street. All I know is that you passed out and nobody was willing to help you, given that you were all dressed up and strange. I felt bad, so I brought you here. You should be thanking me!”

 Emory was silent for a moment. He was close to her. Very close. Closer than any stranger had ever dared to get to her. She looked into his deep, green eyes and realized just how handsome he was. “Stop it,” her mind pleaded. “You don’t even know him.” But somehow, his gaze relaxed her.

 “I’m sorry. You’re right. You have been very kind to me in a time of misfortune. Thank you. I must beg your pardon, but I haven’t even asked your name.”

“I’m Thomas. And you are?”

“Princess Emory Stafford of England. Pleased to meet you.”

 

 Thomas gave her a strange look, but she continued. “Please, I need to know where I am. I need to get back home. What day is it? How long was I asleep?”

“Well, it’s April 14^th, in the good old year of 2010, of course. You were out for almost exactly 24 hours and-”

“WHAT?!” Emory fell into the seat beside her.

 “Excuse me?” Thomas said, surprised by this response.

“No. That’s impossible. That’s just… not even comprehendable.”

“What? I said you were only asleep for 24 hours, it’s really not that big of a deal, I promise.”

“No. The year. That’s impossible. The year is 1675. I’ve followed the calendar every day since I was taught to read the dates. I know for a fact what year it is.”

Thomas was silent for a moment. “I know what this is. Haha okay, okay, you’re an actress, right? This city’s full of them. Yep, that would explain the clothes, the dialect… and this conversation as a whole, I guess. Trying to stay in character? Well that’s cool and all, but you’re gonna have to drop it if you want to find out how to get home.”

“What are you talking about?” Emory asked. “I’m not an actress! I’m the crowned princess of England!”

“Alright, alright.” Thomas said, turning to walk away. “I have got to loosen you up. You know what you need? A night on the town to get your mind off your career. Good thing the night is still young! But we have got to get you into some new clothes.”