Nate blinked and looked around. He was in a low, dark building made of rough-hewn logs, with a roof of what looked like thatched straw. There were stalls along one side, and a large wooden cart with solid wooden wheels. Crude farm implements and tools hung from pegs. This looked like something out of the middle ages! looking down, he discovered he was slender and pale skinned, wearing a rough loincloth. His skin was dirty an streaked, and his feet were so dark he might never have worn shoes.
"Oy, Nathanial!" He jerked around as another boy, maybe 15 years old, came in the main door. He had dark hair and homely features, and was also wearing a loincloth. The newcomer gestured at the wagon. "You want to pull the rig into town today, or stay here and work the fields?" The boy grinned. "Remember that snot-nosed wizard's apprentice swore he would get you back for making him look like a fool."
Nate did not know who this teen is, much less remember anything about a wizard's apprentice. The spell that granted what him wanted must have sent him to a place where he fit in. Was he back in time? Or in a whole other reality?
The boy continued past him, though Nate jumped as a hand patted his butt. "Make a choice. I got to tack Samson up for whatever job you don't want."