Cultural Exchange Ch 01

This is a story where the action, romance and other elements are more important than the raw sex scenes. Please be warned.

Along time, I hope it develops into a novel-length story, but that depends on how good your reception is.

Special thanks to my editor SexyGeek for his patience with my grammatical "horrors".

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It all started with the tremors. High intensity tremors all over the world... with the most odd quality that they were all concentrated in room-sized areas. After further investigation, it was found that these tremors didn't affect the surface or damage buildings because they didn't come from underground,but from the air itself

Or that is what our science led us to believe.

After the tremors came the rifts: cracks in the matter of space and time, overflowing with unknown types of energy too dangerous for anyone to approach. The gas, oil and electric companies all over the world were rubbing their hands with watering mouths in anticipation of the benefits they could make once the rifts would stabilize and their energy could be exploited. Oddly enough, the green community was up to support nuclear energy instead of the one that came from the rifts, given that the effects of otherworldly energy were not thoroughly tested.

And with the stabilization of the rifts came the pillars: Structures made of an unknown material; silvery white(seemingly) stone with gold-like bindings and engraved symbols of some kind of powerfully glowing crystal.

The pillars turned the rifts from some kind of raging energy into screens of something calm and almost liquid, bordered by the pillars themselves. And we discovered that we could cross those screens into a world different from ours.

All over the world, the governments requisitioned the land around the rifts and sent small patrols of scouts to enter, recon, watch and get out without making any kind of contact.

The results where the same from all of the rifts: Elves, Dwarves, Centaurs... It seemed like they had found the homeland of all fantasy novels, movies and video games.

Then our natural arrogance took the best of us: just like centuries ago the Europeans thought they could go into Africa and rob the natives of all their lands, possessions and even their freedom, we went into the Far (Fantasy Alternative Reality) and tried to claim all they had for us.

We thought they were undeveloped. We thought they were uncultured. We thought they were feeble... We thought we could conquer them without breaking a sweat and overpower them with our superior knowledge of science.

We had never been so wrong...

Their magically enhanced armor could reduce, if not totally nullify, the damage from bullets. A Dragon was able to take out full fleets of combat fighters, even bombers and heavy carriers. A Fireball spell was as effective as an anti-tank missile. Their healing magic meant that wounded soldiers could go back to the fight in hours, instead of days. And their weapons of mass destruction in the form or Arch-mages, Battle Golems and other gigantic creatures were something we could not hope to imitate.

And on top of that they had the Knights: humanoid mechanical armors like those only seen in Japanese animation or video games.

Luckily, it didn't take too much time for both sides to realize that the conflict was leading nowhere and peace treaties were rapidly negotiated: Regulations about magic, science and the mixing of both; Rights and obligations of each race; Laws for the control of dangerous, savage species... And finally the treaty for cultural exchange: Individuals from each side would move into the other in order to establish themselves, learn the culture of their hosts, and prove that coexistence was not only a necessity, but the way to a prosper future for both sides.

Why am I telling you this? Because my trembling hands are holding a letter that says that I have been approved for the cultural exchange program.

My name is Brandon Cooper and from the day after tomorrow, I will be living with a tribe of Mountain Elves.

The way this works is simple: There is no volunteering process; they choose the people they consider adequate and send them the letter so they can have the rest of the day to notify the family and say their goodbyes. In an instant you get your life decided without your consent. Annoying, right?

It is hard as hell to reject being moved. They've had everything in on the record before: Work, family charges, medical records... my neighbor tried to escape by declaring himself a xenophobic bastard and now he is in the 'Put under surveillance' list for the rest of his life in case he tries something against the species that are to come.

Why the rush and the lack of information? The program is pretty new and they don't want misinformation to spread.

Maybe they supposed I could be a good candidate because my recently cured social withdrawal had left me with no job and vast theoretical knowledge in themes revolving fantasy stories: legends, popular knowledge, weapons, fighting styles, work with metal and more.

That, and also I was not fat like almost every other Neet. You don't need to interact socially to go running or to lift weights.

So, the morning after receiving the letter I opened the door to my room and I found myself face to face with three government employees: the typical fox-faced, middle aged man that does all the talking and his two silent and stoic muscle mountains.

"Mister Cooper, good morning, we are here to retrieve you." His perpetually narrowed eyes and smile made it hard to tell if he was mocking me. "You have five minutes to say your final farewells before we leave. No need to pack your things; In fact we'll run a check on you before we leave so you don't carry any type of technology from here into the other world. Any kind of necessity will be provided upon arrival," was his fast outburst of instructions, said in a monotone way as if he had been reading them from a list so many times that they were now engraved in his brain. Totally probable thing.

I had no one to say goodbye to in my apartment, so I spent those five minutes erasing the porn images in my mobile phone (the ones in my computer where painfully erased the day before) given that my personal items were going to be received by my closest family. It was almost like the fear of every shut-in: to die suddenly and have your family see your porn stash and know all of your fetishes. Shame in advance.

It really pained me to part with my music: six years of surfing the net in search for the full version of Japanese animation songs were about to be abandoned and I wouldn't be able to listen to them again until I should have spent a number of years in the Far and was given permission to come back on visits.

I got out of my loft (although calling it loft would make it seem much more glamorous than it really was) and started walking with my guide. The pair of gorillas positioned themselves instantly at both my sides and slightly behind. No doubt about that message: "You're not running anywhere, boy." I had already resigned myself to this, so why the intimidation? We boarded the car without a word and hit the road to our destination: a helicopter platform in the roof of the hospital, from where we would be transported to the nearest rift.

Against my silence, the old guy frowned and said, "It's rare for a traveler to be as silent as you. Isn't there anything you want to know, son?"

I played the hard guy and answered without stopping to look through the window. "I've read on the Internet how much secrecy you put into these things to prevent misinformation. So I hope and expect that when I need to know something,

you

will tell me."

At this, the man made a sound between a sigh and a chuckle and answered: "Now that you have no chance to escape, i can at least give you this basic information on the world you'll be living in." Then he re positioned himself in the seat to get more comfortable before starting his speech.

"Even though in Sil'thri Realm (Far is a name invented by the sensationalist press, don't use it there) exist tens of sentient races, they have what they call the 'Seven Blessed Races'... As a matter of fact, Sil'thri means something akin to 'Seven Gods' or 'Seven Creators' or some other synonyms you could find suitable. The common knowledge is that each one of the gods corresponding to the seven elements of creation brought one race into the world: El'Dara, goddess of water, created the Elves; El'Thorn, god of earth, created the Dwarves; El'Ishan, god of wind, created humans; El'Zaye, goddess of fire, created the A'jins, creatures who look like humans with animal characteristics; El'Sazeth, goddess of darkness,created a race of gray-skinned creatures with horns called Deyimas; and El'Misaia,goddess of light created The So'oren,a mysterious race that always wear masks in public."

After finishing counting with his fingers while talking, the guide took out his smart phone, lighting the screen to show me a rough sketch of a map to continue the lesson. "As you can see,the Realm is divided into twelve patches of land, that is what provokes the most internal conflicts between the natives. It seems that each one of the Blessed Races received one country to reign as they see fit, leaving the other six countries between them as 'Land of No-One'. This leaves the countries that have no recognized government as lands full of violence that are inhabited by Orcs, Centaurs and other creatures along with those members of the Blessed that have been exiled from their country... and the ones who have decided by their own accord to abandon their race and homeland."

I took that chance in his rapid fire talking to ask a question. "You started talking about seven races, but you only defined six, and you've been talking about six countries separated by six patches of land with no government, what are you leaving out?" From his languid position in the seat, he just raised his hands as if saying "You just didn't give me time," and after opening a small bottle of water and taking a sip, he continued his explanation.

"In the center of the Realm, at about three hundred meters high, there is a floating island of around four hundred meters of radius. That's the land of the seventh race."

He took another sip while I waited for him to elaborate his answer. While he was drinking, he used his other hand to point to the small fridge the car had installed between the back seats. Tough luck, no alcoholic drinks right when I needed a good shot, so I opted to take an energy drink.

"The seventh element is something we really hope will never be used against us. The seventh god, named El'Eazar, is the god of Chaos, the thunderous and raging matter from which all other elements are born. It seems that this god has some strange sense of humor and thought that joining a dragon and a woman in the same being would very well define his element. That is how the race of Draghan came into existence."

We both took another sip of our drinks and then I noticed we had arrived at the hospital. Not knowing what else to do, I took the can with me when I got out of the car, having a pair of sips along the way until I could drop it at the first trash bin I could find.

There was something bugging me and as we were still alone I asked directly: "You said that god of Chaos joined woman and Dragon to create a race, so what happens with males? Or are they immortal and so they don't need to reproduce?"

He looked warily around him before answering in a lower voice. "They're not immortal, and they need a male partner to mate with in order to lay their eggs, but from Draghan eggs only females are hatched. Their creator thought that if his creation had males and females to reproduce freely, they could eventually become a threat to the realm given the fact that they can control small quantities of Chaos. So he made them without males but with compatibility with the males of every other Blessed Race. In the Realm, there is no higher honor than being chosen as a partner by a Draghan."

We entered an infirmary and I was ordered to undress for a last external check-up before going up to the heliport.

My gray-haired, fox-faced partner kept talking; so I thought the nurse worked for them and it was safe to talk here.

"Being born from a superior god,and living in a territory out of the range of the other races, the Draghan have received the task of watching over the other races, so they don't choose their partner based solely on their emotions: you have to prove yourself worthy of the tasks you'll have to share with her to make her heart beat and make her lean to you. If you ever see a male of any Blessed Race with a kind of flat jewel shaped as a diamond, big as the palm of my hand, and in color green, blue, red, silver or gold, treat him with the utmost respect. The pendant I described you is nothing less than the scale that covers the pubis of a Draghan, that comes off during her first sexual act with her mate. Another reason why they choose their mate so carefully is that once they have made their choice, they can't take it back nor even go directly against his wishes."

I Frowned at that, sighing inside my mind and wishing deeply to become the target of a Draghan's desires. For a man who so many times had been used, cheated and deceived by women,it would be great to have a wife that doesn't have the choice to be unfaithful or feel attracted to another guy. I would choose anyone like that any day even in the case her body was covered in scales.

At that,the nurse intervened with a nasal voice without turning her head from my inspection: "Gregor, do you always just talk dirty stuff?" She was giving her back to him, so she couldn't notice the hungry look in his eyes as he looked at the way her leaning over me lifted her skirt to just millimeters of showing her panties. This fact I know because he told me later.

"You only let me talk and not get into action, Sue," was my guide's answer.

"That's sexual harassment,you old fox," retorted the nurse without showing real discomfort.

She stood up, almost catching the man in the middle of eyeing her ass, and said while nodding her head. "No external injuries nor symptoms of any illness. He's ready to go"

Then he stretched his arm and pointed with his finger to the other side of the room. "Brandon, come take a look out the window"

Just when I turned my head I heard a short hissing sound and at the same time I felt a sharp pain in my nape. When I turned my head again I saw the nurse with a sly expression in her face and a pneumatic injector in her hand. I jolted up from my seat but immediately had to sit again due to the dizziness that overcame me for a second.

"What have you shot me with, bastards?"

The fox man came closer, obviously trying not to snicker and told me with a relaxing voice. "Don't worry, it's nothing dangerous. In fact, it's the very first bastard son between science and magic. The pill shaped as a grain of rice we have injected in the back of your neck will dissolve along the next three to five hours, its content being directly absorbed by your brain. You are the first human from this world to receive a linguistic potion in this manner."

I felt my eyes and mouth open wide and I protested: "So you take me for some kind of guinea pig?"

Gregor waved his hand dismissing my worries, abandoning his games and smiles to answer, in a serious tone that admitted no objections. "It is necessary. We do not have years to teach you the main languages of the world you are going to live in from now on. And we also received legal complaints from other travelers because of the side effects of taking seven normal language potions."

"So I am not the first to make the trip?"

He snorted and said, "No, boy, you aren't. The United States has been sending travelers for a year. You are the number thirteen American." His eyes lighted when he noticed something. "I hope you don't believe in superstitions like that."

Without saying the smallest word I dressed up again and we went up to the roof and then to the heliport were the transport was ready and waiting for us.

I did as shown in most movies, lowering my head before boarding and then took a seat in the middle of the passengers area, as far as I could from the doors and buckled the seat belt the way I was taught by a member of the crew.

Not long after that, the fox bastard put on some headphones from atop his seat and motioned me to do the same with mine. "You need these things inside the chopper or the noise from the rotors wouldn't let us speak without screaming aloud. I suggest you sleep all the way to the door we'll be crossing. That will help with the assimilation of the linguistic pill and you won't have such a bad headache when the process ends."

I didn't answer and just closed my eyes, moving in my seat to find a comfortable pose and try to sleep.

I think the pill might have had some kind of tranquilizer because it took me far less than I could expect to fall asleep.

The ups and downs of the landing woke me up, and right after that I noticed the punch of a headache on both my temples. So this is what he meant about the pill giving me a headache when it dissolved completely... well, I guess it's no use having a pain like this if you are forced to learn several languages in five hours.

Right when Gregor was about to wake me, he noticed I was already awake, but pressing my eyes in an attempt to reduce the pain to a tolerable level.

His fox smile had returned and he offered me a hand to help me stand and get out of the vehicle.

"How are you feeling, son?" he asked me as soon as we went far enough from the helicopter to walk straight and talk without raising our voices.

"I'm not your son, and I've had worse hangovers," I lashed back at him with a rash tone. He went silent, and seconds later I recognized my mistake and said in a softer tone, "Sorry about that, pains make me grumpy and I snap easily."

The guy nodded and said as well, "Well, it was our fault to begin with, but that is in the past now."

He stopped so suddenly that I almost bumped into him. I raised my head and saw him stretching and opening his arms the way a magician (a trickster, the way real Mages from the other side called them) and said in a theatrical way "Behold your future!"

It was fucking impressive to see it real-life and so close.

Two pillars that vaguely resembled Greek architecture, made of pure white marble, but with crystal veins that resembled some kind of magic runes, both pillars entangled and tied together by gold chains. And between them, something that looked like the surface of a clear blue lake, calmly rippling... but in vertical ripples!

My fox guide's smile became wider and with a laugh in his voice said, "Boy, you better not blink your eyes from now on, this is but the first and smallest of the surprises that await you."

Then he walked straight to the rippling screen between the pillars and went through it with no concern for his safety, so I hurried my pace and went after him, stopping warily in front of the entrance and pushing it with my hand tentatively. It was like poking jelly... so I closed my eyes and pushed against it with my whole body: I felt cold and moving against a slight and sticky resistance, until that resistance suddenly disappeared and I found myself stumbling to the other side.

I opened my eyes and I remembered Gregor's words when I noticed I couldn't blink even if I would want to.

We were on a stone platform, around two hundred meters wide, surrounded by the deepest darkness you can imagine. To be more precise, it was like we were in the void of deep space but with no stars on sight.