He darted through the window, searching for at least a significant clue to his sudden awakening. Quartz yelped for help, but no one seemed to answer his distress call.

"Impossible..." Quartz thought with awe to himself. He heard the noises of galloping horses, bartenders buzzing out prices, and saw tens of thousands of feet wearing old fas.h.i.+oned shoes.

"Hey, what year is it?" The young man clenched his fists to the iron bars once more. He continued to ask his inmate about the period, but the inmate's reaction was immense. He thought of the young man as a dull and crazy individual with a memory disorder, but little does the inmate know that he's not from their world.

"It's the nine hundredth year. Have you been hibernating?" The inmate teased sarcastically. He gave the young man a suspicious look, and his eyes tried to observe Quartz's pupils.

"Please be more specific. What do you mean by nine hundredth year? Do you know Jesus Christ?" Quartz tried to use his profound history skills. By simply asking the inmate if he knows who Jesus Christ is, the young man could determine the era he's in. Before Christ or Anno Domini which means the year of our lord?

"Who in the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l is that?" The inmate queried with squinted eyes, showing a very unfamiliar expression.

"You speak English? So is this England? Or perhaps Britain?" Quartz surveyed again in hopes to figure out his current locale. As a history enthusiast, he is fond of using the coordinate system.

"England? Britain? Never heard of those before. If you're not from around here, welcome to the Pureheart kingdom." The inmate greeted, yet with a sarcastic tone.

"Pureheart? Now that's a new one on me." The young man uttered softly without asking further more questions. He sat on the corner of the cell, trying to control the anxious sensation.

"It's just a dream... you're going to wake up soon, come on Quartz, wake up." He encouraged himself to the point he tried to slam his face harshly unto the brick wall. Once gentleness turns into panic, Quartz tends to do things without thinking.

As he mourns for his painful headache, the abrupt squeaking of rustic gates suddenly caught his scrutiny. The sensation of footsteps and the clas.h.i.+ng of metals creaked upon his ears.

"Who are you? And where did you come from?" The voice of a middle-aged woman uttered upon him. She has blonde hair which twinkles brilliantly, her eyes are painted with the color of cerulean seas, while her skin complexion is fair and decent.

The middle-aged woman wore a very engaging armor. Quartz's attention was grabbed not because of her beauty but because of her very unreasonable taste of old-fas.h.i.+oned clothing. The young man has a point, who wears such armory in the late 1960s?

"My name is Quartz Vermillion, and I'm from Rome. I want to know where I am, and how I got here." The young man introduced while keeping eye contact with the woman's eyes.

"Rome? I've never heard of such location before. Where in the sixty-four cities or towns of Sacchi do you belong to?" The woman with black l.u.s.tered armor questioned with suspicion towards the young man.

"Sacchi? Impossible... I've heard of that name before, but I couldn't remember where. How did I even get here?" Quartz questioned to himself. He grated his hair, as the intensity and tension of confusion surpa.s.sed his limits.

"You were found in the middle of a siege laying unconscious unto lush gra.s.s. You should be thankful that I was able to get you out of there.

My name is Jupiter Braveheart, I am the daughter of the king and queen of the Pureheart kingdom. Does this weapon belong to you?" Finally, the woman's name debuted. Jupiter Braveheart, it reminds Quartz about a king from the European countries. Upon Jupiter's grasp is no other than Quartz's Piccolo.

She seems curious about the weapon, but in return Quartz's mind was baffled. If he is not mistaken, flutes such as the Piccolo are forged during these kinds of eras.

"That is not a weapon, it's an instrument. Can you please tell me how I was sent here? And what do you mean by siege?" Quartz questioned further.

"I am sorry, but I can no longer entertain those questions. You are a prisoner of our kingdom. Do not worry, you will be fed three times a day, and the food here is luscious.

Dare to escape, and you will face me and my family's army. Trust me, you do not want to get yourself involved with the current situations of Sacchi. I will be going now. I'll keep this weapon, in case you plan to use it against the will of my father and my forefathers." Jupiter greeted and left the young man with a mind filled with curiosity.

Although as she walks away from Quartz, Jupiter began to wonder why a young man like him knows nothing about Sacchi and its sixty-four cities or towns.

"Sacchi? Is that your country's name?" Quartz consulted the inmate one last time. The inmate responded with a vicious nod for his annoyed spirit came forth.

Quartz still has a plethora of unanswered questions, and the more he seeks for an answer, the more questions appear. There is still a lot to learn about this new world.