Chapter Thirty-One - A Dead City

“The scientific method is meant to promote the learning of new knowledge and the sharing of that knowledge.

Something has gone horribly wrong if sentient-kind has lost as much as it has.”

***

We reached Silvershire the next morning.

Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that we reached the ruins of Silvershire the next morning.

Of the city, once a sprawling metropolis where people were stacked one atop the other because there was so little room for all the people attracted to it, there wasn’t much left. Nature had reclaimed most of the city.

The only reason I knew I was close to the city was the familiar mountainscape behind me, and the faint magical aura of so no doubt buried artefacts.

“This is rather disappointing,” I said.

“Is this the place?” the limpet asked as she looked around. “It doesn’t look like much.”

That was a fair assessment. The forest here was sparse and weak, the trees few and rather scraggly looking. It only took one look at the ground to see why. For all that the city had fallen, its bricks and mortar hadn’t faded away, not entirely. There were large, suspiciously square stones all over, some large enough to be considered boulders.

“There’s not much left,” I admitted. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be entirely surprised, it has been two millenia and a bit.”

We started to move into the city, sticking to the places where little sections of the road remained. I could just make out the parkings carved into the road if I searched long enough, and sometimes a few blocks of stone hinted at where a building once stood.

“This place must have been big,” the limpet said. Her voice was at a low whisper. Respectful, or fearful?

“It was,” I said. “A quarter of a million people, all stuffed into this one place. It would have been disastrous if it wasn’t for the wizards in charge.”

“Wizards ruled this place?” the limpet asked.

I nodded. “Once, yes. Wizards are men, for all that they tend to be more knowledgable of magic. They can be swayed and bribed. But, in a place like this, I think it turned out for the best. There was a council of wizards and sorcerers and even a few of the more level-headed warlocks. They ruled over the city along with a council of merchants.”

“There wasn’t a king? Or an emperor?”

“Not really. Though the occasional mage of sufficient power would grow ambitious enough to be considered something close to that. Silvershire was a place of growth and learning. There were great academies here that would compete to discover new magic and spells, and the leaders, because of their grasp of magic and scholarly nature, were often open to experimenting and trying new things.”

I paused and with a flick of my wrist tossed aside a clump of dirt. A Mage Hand pulled out a boxy cage made of rusty metal.

“What’s that?”

“A mage lamp. They used to line the streets,” I said before letting it drop. “It’s beyond repair, I’m afraid.”

The limpet eyed the device for a moment before jogging to catch up with Alex and I. Her dog ranged out ahead of us, sniffing something here, and peeing on some historical artefact there.

“So, Master, are we going to stay here?”

“Not for very long,” I said. “There are a few things I’d like to look into before we move on.”

“Papa, there are people here,” Alex said.

I looked to my butler, then out ahead. I couldn’t spot anyone at first, then I noticed what Alex was talking about. Some of the bushes a little ways ahead had clear cut marks on them, and the plant growth over some of the stones had been tossed aside to reveal the carvings beneath.

“Interesting,” I said. I cast a minor illusion over myself, once more turning, to anyone looking at me, into a rather plain man. “Perhaps we’re about to meet some looters.”

“Not much to loot here,” the limpet said.

That was, unfortunately, a fair assessment. For all that my memories of this place still painted it as a progressive nation state, it was now little more than ancient ruins ravaged by time. “Then perhaps we are going to meet some curious people,” I said.

We continued onwards, heading more or less in the direction of the city’s centre. As we continued to climb over ruined pillars and the rubble of destroyed homes, I noticed more and more signs that we weren’t entirely alone.

There were a few scarps of cloth here and there, as well as marks and day-old bootprints in the muddier soil.

“It seems as if our new friends are surveying the entire area,” I said.

“Huh?” the limpet asked.

“Train your observation skills some more,” I said before pointing to the ground where a few prints were crossing our path. “See?”

“Oh, wow. So they went that way?” she asked.

“No, we crossed steps heading the other way earlier, and more passed in the same direction before that. They’re not overlapping, so whomever left these steps is crossing the entire city in a pattern, possibly in a grid.” I stopped next to the prints and squatted down.

The limpet looked around, then did the same next to me. “What are we looking for?”

I touched the bootprint. “Look at the size. Wide boots, with grooves under it for traction. Good for hiking and terrain like this. Not so good in a proper city. Small foot though, smaller even than your feet.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the limpet said.

I ignored her perceived insult. “It means we’re either looking for a child, a young woman, or a member of one of the smaller races. In my time I would assume dwarven make, or gnome of halfling. It might be that someone managed to civilize some goblins and kobold, or maybe they just stole some boots.”

“That’s mighty clever of you,” a voice said from over a nearby piece of wall.

The limpet jumped to her feet, hands moving in the first motions to cast Chill Touch.

“We’re not here to hurt anyone,” I said as I looked at and through the wall. There was a lone man behind it. Young, human. Not the one leaving the marks, judging by the sandals on his feet.

The man shifted, then stood up and came around the wall. He was a tall youth, with sun-tanned skin and long hair held back in a tail. His clothes were loose fitting, but held snug by a pair of belts with various tools hooked to it. “You know, sneaking up on a cultivator is a bad idea,” he said.

“Oh? We were not the ones hiding,” I said. “In fact, I daresay that we weren’t being stealthy at all.”

The youth grinned wryly. “Alright, that’s fair. What are you doing in the ruins of Silverdust?”

“Silverdust?” I repeated.

The man nodded, then gestured around him. “This place. It’s an ancient city. And it’s a dangerous place.”

“Yes,” I said. “We could trip over some of these rocks on the roadside.”

The man snorted. “No, not that. Well, not just that. I suppose an old man might turn his ankle on some of these, and there have been buildings that just crumble apart. I’m mostly talking about the plant monsters and the goblins.”

“Oh?” I asked. “Do tell.”

Goblins had been a sort of scourge even in my day. Though they were more pest than threat. They’d steal clothes from lines and would take the yield of a farmer’s crop. Sometimes they’d form violent little bands so that a passing adventurer had something to practice on. The plant monsters could be anything though.

The boy nodded. “That’s right. Nasty little monsters. You ought to turn around, head back out the way you came. I can escort you a ways, if you need directions.”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid not. Though your invitation is welcome, and kind even. We’re heading to the middle of the city.”

He shook his head. “That way’s dangerous,” he said.

“Papa can protect us,” Alex said. “He’s very strong. Stronger than any number of goblins.”

I chuckled. “Thank you, Alex. Yes, I think we can handle ourselves. If that doesn’t satisfy you, then perhaps you could escort us to your friends?”

“My friends?” the man asked. “I’m just a lone cultivator, taking in the sights of a place with plentiful mana.”

“Your feet are too big for these bootprints, and don’t have the marks of someone who frequently wears such footwear,” I said.

“Maybe I walked on my hands?” he tried.

I stared until he relented.

“Fine, I didn’t want to do this, but I can’t let you move on. Please turn around and go back to wherever you came from.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” I said. “See, you’ve piqued my curiosity, and now I really do want to see what you’re up to.” I looked at his belt, taking note of the tools there. “And what you’re doing with a team of dwarves. Tell me, limpet, are dwarves welcome in these parts?”

“Huh? Oh, I don’t think so. You’ll see them sometimes, near the mountains at Storm Lake and in the north, but they’re not too common outside of their homes. Cultivators tend to get into fights with them a lot.”

“They can hold their own?” I asked.

The limpet shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Interesting. I think I’d like to meet your companions,” I told the young man.

“I never said I was with anyone.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” I said. “Don’t bother trying. Come now, I doubt you’re the one in charge, don’t you have a superior who’d rather be the one dealing with us?”

I could tell that I’d poked his pride a little, if only from the way he set his jaw and his expression flattened. Still, he nodded and gestured to the side with his head. “Come on, this way.”

The young cultivator stayed a ways ahead of us. Still, he kept to the streets and the paths that would be easier for someone unfit to cross. I think the limpet at least could appreciate that much.

She also seemed to be appreciating the young man’s physique.

I rolled my eyes and tapped her in the head. “Keep sharp. This could turn into a trap,” I said.

“Yeah, right,” she agreed.

We soon reached the outermost walls of Silvershire. They had once stood tall and proud, bastions in the defence of a powerful city. Now the few trees around the wall rose higher than the crumpled remains. They were still an obvious break in the landscape though, and as soon as we crossed through a hole dug into their sides, we arrived in the inner city.

The homes here were in better shape. Some even had entire walls left. The city walls must have kept some of the elements at bay, or perhaps some of the ancient enchantments keeping the city safe had endured for longer here, nearer to the centre of the city’s power.

The young man raised his hand, a gesture for us to wait. “I’m going to go get someone. You three, and the dog, stay right there, okay?”

“Certainly,” I said.

The limpet called her dog closer and placed a hand atop its head to keep it close. “This place feels spooky,” she said. “Cold but not.”

I felt the air and nodded. “There was a great deal of death here at one time. There are likely ghosts around. Perhaps some long-lasting skeletons.”

“You’re not worried?” the limpet asked.

“I’m undead. What’s a ghost going to do to me?” I asked. “You, on the other hand, will look quite appatizing to the undead. Do keep your necromantic magic in mind and on the tip of your tongue. They’re surprisingly useful against the dead.”

“That;s strange, death magic working on the dead.”

I shook my head. “It’s more akin to soul magic working on creatures whose souls are already bared. I wonder what happened here.”

And, as I heard the crunch of approaching boots, I wondered if we would soon find out.

***