Ficly

Sometimes the World is a Strange Place

He stood in front of the army in all the armor he owned. It was not much, but his civilization had not fought a war in almost a thousand years. They descended upon him like a black cloud. As the mass consumed him, covering him in darkness he moved violently, hoping to make his way through to the other side.
“The other thing you need to know about time travel is you can only change things if you are naked.” These words rang through his mind as he stood in the middle of a small city naked. His Master had told him this once. The place he arrived in was primitive. Men and women covered themselves in cloth a custom he had only heard of. The language had changed significantly, these predecessors speaking with their tongue. This was not the same place he had left when he went to war.
He wasn’t worried about these things now. Somehow the war was over. Pulling out his guitar he began to sing. A passer by tossed some change and threw it at his feet. His language as foreign to them as their to him, but they didn’t care.

This story has no comments.