Not a word. A vast wealth of information, and he couldn’t parse a single bit… oh wait, there, at the silty depths of the sea of symbols, a tiny post-it note in English appeared.

“Dear Disciple, as you lack any civilized language, you will need to pull literacy training out of the library. The filing code is deu8n8wopenfaw325. Just think this command firmly and the memories of an illiterate steppes herder who joined the School as a savage, very much like you. This will aid you in learning the Vulgar Arcane that enlightened society has used for millennia. From there you will be able to find appropriate course work in the index, it’s labeled clearly and I’m assured this format is idiot proof, which is perfect for you I imagine.”

And then the sounds of a chiming laugh. No seriously, she attached a mocking laugh to a textual memory, which made for a nasty case of synesthesia as he read her laughter. The backlash made John taste blue again.

“Teacher is unique… and apparently wants to be buried in a sack in my garden. I must honor her wishes.” John concluded as his hands twitched convulsively.

Suddenly, his phone started beeping, shocking him from his thoughts on how to murder the dead. The portal would close in less than a half hour!

It was decision time. There was almost certainly no magic on Earth. The resources he would need to follow his teacher’s path were most likely only available here. John had already packed for a lengthy trip, and everything was in the garage already. He could toss extra things through the gate and turn the portal chamber into a command outpost, or immortals cave if he was feeling whimsical, then travel out into the world with power and wealth… or he could snatch everything here back over, see how far he could get with magic without resources, and live a life of sybaritic luxury from the small fortune in gold and silver he had unearthed.

It was an easy decision in the end.

“Man I’m going to miss the internet.” John moaned to himself as he threw the entire contents of his house through the dark and glimmering hole. To make sure he wouldn’t get stranded he had given himself only 16 minutes to grab what he could. After emptying the car and tossing some tools, bulk paper goods and chemicals from the garage John had ran to the library and grabbed books for a solid 5 minutes, then reams of paper and pens from the study. His phone and laptop, along with solar charger and 1 gig of “Taxes 2017” had already passed through. He grabbed the knife block and a large cutting board from the kitchen, every can of food and jug of liquid, then filled up a huge plastic tub with water and dragged it through the portal with 47 seconds to spare on top of the three minutes he had shaved off to make sure he made it.

’Or…’ John thought, watching the portal waver and vanish into oblivion 6 seconds later ‘… right on time, as it were.’

For a second, just a moment, John felt a sense of vertigo and overpowering loss. He would probably never see his home again. That safe and comfortable life was lost for him forever. But then he turned to the family photo he’d wrapped in towels and tossed through, and spent a moment contemplating his parents’ smiling faces. And, in the end, John decided that they would want him to pursue risks and challenges, to be a pioneer, and most of all, to follow his dreams. And right now, John dreamt of magic.

But first, he needed to clean this place up and take stock. He had packed several days worth of drinks and calorie dense foods for his long drive, and had about 12 gallons of potables in one form or another, or just under a months’ worth. The basin he had planning to use for hygiene purposes, a little water and sanitizer gel would last a long time on that front, even if it would dry the hell out of his skin. He noticed that a full bottle of bleach and detergent made the trip, so he could keep those whites white for a little while. Or dispose of blood evidence. John had just bought a jumbo pack of paper towels and toilet paper, so he didn’t need to go as a savage for a while. Most of the clothes he’d packed were for warmer weather, but all his cold gear was in a plastic tub he had remembered to snag. His mattress was too heavy to move quickly but he had several sets of bedding and blankets to work with. Electronics and books he put as far from the food and water as possible to avoid a twilight zone rant on fairness. Fortunately John didn’t wear glasses or need any medication. His mom had kept a staggering amount of cold medication and NSAIDs in the linen closet, and enough bandages for a hospital outpost, which he’d snagged with the towels. He’d tossed all his hand tools and the wood bin through before dragging over the water, so when his camp stove ran out of propane he could still have something to burn without scavenging, and of course he could still whittle for fun when he wasn’t cramming a new language.

A month of full mental immersion should be plenty of time to get the language down, and then he could probably start looking for what passed for civilization around here.

John finished organizing his supplies, ransacked his teacher’s office, then grabbed a broom and got hard to work pushing all the dust and grime into the first of the old hostel rooms. It took the better part of the day, but when he was done he had a large studio apartment laid out, his teacher was laid to rest in her office, covered by a spare sheet, and he’d found the privy hole in the second room was cavernously deep.

John gave himself the first of many sponge baths, had jerky and nuts for dinner, then curled up safe and exhausted in his nest of blankets.

Tomorrow he had a language to learn, and a world to explore.

Rule #4- When leaving any industrial technology plane, buy toilet paper in bulk. You’re Welcome.