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And since, despite the world's admitted tendency towards situations best left in the more dramatic varieties of literature, it wasn't literally a stereotypical gothic novel, Kanimir didn't expect anything in particular to happen. If nothing else, there were far more storms that happened to happen at night than there were potentially literature-worthy shenanigans. So it's completely reasonable for him to be curled up in his grand library, enjoying a book on magical theory.

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There is a soft flare of light, and a petite girl in a red sundress appears a short distance away, stepping through a rectangular pane of glow that fades away as soon as she emerges.

She looks around in mounting confusion and alarm.

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Kanimir looks at her for several seconds. "Hello. I believe you might be lost," he says.

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She blinks at him and responds in a totally unfamiliar language.

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Of course. "Urashinvol," he enunciates. "Alright, do you understand me now?"

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"Yes..." she says cautiously.

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"How did you get here?"

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"...Through a Door," she says. "But... it's..." She trails off, shaking her head slowly.

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He murmurs several words under his breath, then purses his lips. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with the meaning of "door" in this context."

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"One of the Door's portals," she clarifies, somewhat unhelpfully.

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"That doesn't clarify the matter for me. I suspect I lack significant underlying context which you are used to taking for granted."

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"Where... am I?"

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"My home, in the state of Pennsylvania, in the country the United States of America, on the planet Earth, in the Milky Way galaxy, but I suspect that at least some of that shall be as opaque to you as your explanation of how you came here was to me."

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"...well, I'm still on a planet," she murmurs. "That's something."

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"Apparently. What are door portals?"

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"The Door was a person who could create portals that lead from one place to another. I went through an out-of-the-way one, and now I am here."

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"When did this person live? I feel quite certain that nothing like this has happened since I acquired this residence."

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"He died a few hundred years ago, I think."

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"Do you have an idea of how many hundred?"

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"Two or three?"

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"Probably he was dead before I came here. Do you know if this particular portal has been used since?"

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"No..."

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"So it seems possible, if potentially unlikely, that it merely sat here dormant for all this time."

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She frowns slightly, dissatisfied with this analysis but not sure how to voice her concerns.

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"Or, alternately, I might be misreading things due to my unfamiliarity with the underlying paradigm."

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"It's very, very strange that you haven't heard of the Door. Everyone's heard of the Door. I can't imagine how far away I must have gone to find someone who hasn't heard of the Door."

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