New Delhi was blazing hot, the type of heat that makes you question every decision that led you to this moment. Sloane stuffed her coat into her messenger bag and admired my brown jade bangles. At least something about her was shining.
Adrien, her best friend since university, had abandoned her under a tree because he suddenly remembered samosas existed.
She chuckled thinking, Classic Alex.
Just then, a cool breeze swept over her. Clouds drifted across the sun. Sloane looked up.
The breeze didn't feel like weather to her. It felt selective. Like it had chosen her.
Then she looked forward. Expecting to see her friend.
And New Delhi was gone.
No honking. No buildings. No sweaty crowd.The silence wasn't peaceful. It was enforced. Like the world had muted itself. That's what she accumulated.
Just endless green fields, horses trotting around, and the unmistakable smell of cow dung. Her nose filed a complaint immediately. To herself.
Even before she could react about what was happening a man stood beside her, muttering, "Damn… my house got burnt." She didn't remember hearing footsteps. He was just… there. As if he'd been placed.
Only then did Sloane notice a massive fire in the distance.The fire felt excessive. Like it wasn't just consuming wood but erasing something.
And because she was built different (fancy for "weird"), Sloane pointed at it and asked,
"Was your house there?"
"Yes," he sighed, not even sadly, just… tired. But how would Sloane understand that this was nothing compared to the struggles he had faced. So she named him a "chill guy".
She blinked at his conventionally awkward answer. "So it was old or something? Judging by your outfit, you don't look like someone with many houses."she said before even analyzing why she was there because roasting for aura mattered more to Sloane.
He stared at her as if those words were more hurting than the burnt house. "That was insulting."
"No, that was a roast."
"Roast? Like chicken? Yes, the people there are almost roasted."
Sloane facepalmed. "No! You're young, you should know slang! Wait… what year is this?"
He puffed his chest proudly. "It is 1000 Hijri."
He said with such pride, Sloane sweared he wanted her to clap.
She stared at him with the expression of someone suffering from a week-long constipation.
1000 Hijri… which meant…
1592. Mughal Empire. Akbar's reign.
"Is the king named Akbar?" I asked.
"Yes, how do YOU not know that?"
"Oh, I did."
(Absolutely she did NOT.)
Now, you might expect her to panic. Cry. Collapse.
Or be happy. Enjoy. Roam around.
But NO.
She stood there, inhaled cow dung air with suffering, and decided:
She then decided she was there to do both suffer AND enjoy.
Sure she will regret the decision later?Yes, but she just can't sit idle either.
She planned to establish democracy, stop colonization, and "preserve" history, her polite word for stealing artifacts.
Ambition came easily to her. Consequences did not.
And, of course, become important enough to get edits made about herself in all over YouTube. Also so that everyone makes documentaries on her.
After thinking all that, she became surprised at her ownself that she could manage all those ambitions. Sloane also feared that she might just want fame and all this were just her way to justify everything.
But the fact that she didn't even flinch on the fact that she just mysteriously time traveled kinda explained her. As Sloane always wished to time travel so it was like years of day dreams becoming real. It was already planned, buddy.
While she was imagining her future fame, the man beside her still stared blankly at his burning house.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Dannyal."
He squinted at her clothes. "Your outfit is strange. And what is that thing around your eyes?"
"These are glasses. And what do you mean strange, this is literally a white shirt and brown pa–"
Oh.
Right.
Ancient people.
"But your brown shoes look great," he added.
"They're Birkenstock Arizonas."
He nodded respectfully, as if she had spoken magic.
Then he asked her name.
"My name is Sloane Sterling. Historian and detective. I come from the future. I want to change this system, prove everyone is equal, no matter how or where they're born. Will you join me on this quest?" I asked reaching my hand towards him.
For a split second, the air tightened. Not around me, around the words that change the system.
She had no idea where that inspirational speech came from. But it did from the her childish self that still wished for equality.
He didn't answer immediately. Then he smiled, as if relieved someone had finally said the words out loud.
Dannyal's eyes widened. "Count me in! I've been waiting for someone who thinks like this."
Then, dramatically, he said,
"I was once a royal. But after a scandal involving my father, my mother and I were cast out. Now I work as a merchant."
It was weird that he agreed easily. Maybe he wanted some action in his life. That was the explanation Sloane gave to herself.
But his agreement didn't feel enthusiastic. It felt… aligned. Like something had clicked into place.
After a while, he hesitantly asked her,"May I ask you something?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you male or female?" He asked with a face innocent as a goat.
Sloane frowned,"What type of question is that?"
He raised his hands,"I–I am just asking." Then said exhaling,"It's a bit confusing, your face looks like a girl but your body doesn't. "
"You are weird!" She exclaimed even though she could hardly stop her laugh.
"Nevermind, you don't have to answer." He said exhaling.
"I am girl." She replied laughing.
"Hey, don't laugh!" He said while trying to control his own laughter.
"Why...ahaha..are.. you laughing?" She asked hands crossed on her belly to stop the laughter.
"Your laughter, it's not elegant at all." Dannyal replied, unable to control his laugh,"It sounds like a donkey but at least heartfelt"
After a while, they both stopped laughing. Their stomachs were hurting from the laughing. The reason? Sloane laughed at Dannyal's question, her sound made Dannyal laugh, and Dannyal's laugh made Sloane laugh again.
Thus they started a chain reaction... of laughter. Sloane remembered her high school days with her weird friends just like her. Life turned black and white pretty easily for her when she had to go to university.
After becoming normal, they found a name for their mission, they called themselves,"Harbingers of peace" and their relative name for each other wasn't 'ally' or 'companion'. They chose it as,"Efficient variables for prosperity."
Just like that, they began walking toward the town,
two idiots with a huge dream and absolutely no plan.
And honestly?
It felt perfect. And Sloane had studied history long enough to know perfection always demands payment.
How could she survive in a world where rules existed before she knew they were laws?