It had been a long time since Apple had gazed upon walls so high. Great slaps of cut grey stone piled on top of one another, reaching a height greater than five men perched on each other’s shoulders. The walls curved in his peripherals, forming a seal that protected whatever dwelled inside of them.

In front of where Apple stood, on the sandy cobblestone path he had traversed for the past half moon, was the sight of a large rectangular hole in the wall, allowing a slight peak to what lurks behind.

On each side of the hole stood two men, identically dressed in gambesons, tin caps, holding short spears loosely between their hands.

All of the scenery that bore into Apple’s eyes could be summed up into one single word: city.

He had arrived at one of Loncia’s few cities. He had avoided the giant hives of humanoids this past year due to the reasonable fear of what nestles within them. Every city has a little of everything. Supplies, weapons, good food and drink, bad food and drink, information, and most importantly companionship. However, that was only one side of the same coin; thieves, rapists, spies, soldiers, and worst of all, magicians, all also resided within these walls.

Apple had avoided everywhere that he believed his magical brethren would be skulking; cities; archaeological sites; ruins; battlegrounds; anywhere he believed a creature bigger than a wolf would live, he hid from them all.

He could not hide forever, unfortunately. Now was the time. His left hand once again felt the sweet embrace of a catalyst. At least if he if he was ever caught by a fellow magic user, he could at least distract them with a few spells, giving him enough time to run away.

“’Morning. What business you be having in Pier?” Asked the gentleman to Apple’s right, as he approached the cities’ entrance.

“Morning,” Apple replied “Just came to purchase some goods and be on my way again.”

“What sort of goods?” The fellow to his left chimed in.

“Oh, nothing fancy. Just some fish and hopefully a new weapon of some kind. A sword perhaps, heard they’re cheaper these days.”

“What ya be needing a sword for?”

Apple gave the man a forced perplexed look. “You saw no horse beneath my thighs as I approached your walls now did you? Walking is a slow method of travel, it is. Lots of bandits and wolves waiting to pounce on lone travellers like myself. Got to have something to defend myself with, now don ‘t I?”

The left man nodded. “Fair enough.” He remarked. It appeared that his interrogation was over.

“What’s with that oversized walking stick, you got there?” The man of the right asked as he pointed at Apple’s staff.

“What, this old thing?” Apple replied. “Worn myself out on the trip here and needed something to support my aching feet and back. I’ll need its aid for a little longer, but I should be fine in the morning.”

The man stared in silence at Apple for a few seconds. “Alright, come on in.” He finally declared. His curious mind now satiated.

It was a good thing Apple had remembered to hide the protruding amber with wrapped twine a few days ago, you do not see many walking sticks with gems glued to the top of them, at least not ones so shabby looking.

“Much obliged” Apple gestured with a nod and began to proceed through the open gate into the city of Pier.

**********

Apple was so frustratingly tired of seeing markets. The first location from the entrance Apple had entered was the merchant plaza. It was not surprising, every city flooded their doors with goods, waiting to prey upon the weary travellers that came through them. Apple was thankful for his current attire and his crude wooden staff; they made him reek with the stench of a lowly country bumpkin. Barely any of the merchants tried to grab his attention as he strode past.

“Where to first?” He asked himself. He needed supplies but not so presently in desperate need of them. News of current events was a must so an inn would be good idea. It could not be too hard to find one, as within cities there was typically one close by the entrance to attract and host tourists.

As Apple carried on his pace through the market place, hoping to eventually stumble upon an inn or at least a welcoming pub, he began to hear the faint sound of yelling from the distance. The yelling did not sound angry nor frightened, the tone way more akin to the slimy voice a merchant used when trying to get someone to buy their wares.

Apple was intrigued slightly, whatever this voice was selling, it must have been good to be so boisterous about it. Since it seemed to be coming from the direction he was already heading, Apple decided that he might as well check it out.

“Come one come all! Welcome to Pief’s quarterly slave auction!” Declared a short plump man dressed in finery, stood upon what appeared to be a long scaffold of timber. Behind him stood side by side was line of about thirty people ranging from a boy, that looked as if had only just recently left his mother’s womb. In contrast to his youth was a grisly senior that stared at the crowd with glazed pupils, almost hidden by large saggy eyelids. All were naked, showing their exotics skin colours and some of their less than what was considered to be human features. All were shackled together with wrought-irons. Faces of either unbridled fear or apathetic stares met the crowd.

A slave auctions. This was the second time Apple had been to one these events, the first with his father when he was just a boy, there to purchase slaves to tend to his mother’s newly grown orchids.

Curious, Apple merged with the large crowd of potential buyers. There were a lot of people at this auction. Most looked too poor to purchase a slave, most likely just there for purely entertainment purposes. The ones that looked to able to lose some their coin were either at the very front, or sat stop elevated chairs at the back.

“I see we have a lot of promising customers this time around, allow me to not disappoint.” The plump man continued, rubbing his hands softly and showing a well-rehearsed smile. “Our first item for today comes from the far away land of Tattapon.” He motioned his hands to his left, a practised motion that told a slave behind him to step forward. Now besides the slave broker was a large muscular man whose dark skin was almost hidden beneath a chaotic mosaic of pink and red scars. “Once a proud solider for his pitiful king, this lion of a man will perform any physical task you give him effortlessly – and with a military discipline and efficency I might add.” He added. “Starting bid, two lead coins for this mighty warrior.”

Two leads, that was more money than Apple had ever seen, although it sounded a fair price for the slave being bargained. Apple missed the days of gold and silver money, it was so much easier to tell if something was worth the price.

“Two leads!” Cried a voice somewhere to the left of Apple.

“Two leads and five irons!” Yelled another.

“Three leads!”

“Four!”

The price eventually stopped at five leads and eight irons to some fat man sat atop one of the elevated chairs. Apple thought it was a bit pricey for the dark fellow, but looking at way fatty ever so slightly licked his lips and breathed even heavier than his girth would assume normal, it appeared the slave meant a lot to the man.

“Now, our next item for today is a fiery redhead all the way from Doiham islands.

**********

After about forty minutes and thirteen slaves sold, Apple left the auction. He was quite indifferent to the concept of slavery, the strong ruled the weak and that was something Apple knew all too well. His family had owned several slaves, most likely still do, although he never saw much of them. They tended to mostly tend the fields with the surfs, or destroy themselves in his father’s tin mines. His mother always said that a good slave was an unseen slave. Servants inside; slaves outside. Apple did not really agree with that mindset but still he had no qualms about owning another living being. However, something about the looks on the majority of the buyer’s faces at this auction rubbed him the wrong way. He was shocked to realise that as the auction went on, his hands had slowly become clenched fists, beckoning the dwimmer in his stomach to come to them.

The whole affair no longer existed as far as he was concered; back to the mission at hand of finding an inn. “Wait!” His mind suddenly cried. “I’m right next to the sea. I’m in a city with a dock overflowing with boats. Why the hell am I wandering around with my thumbs up my arse when I can just leave Loncia? By the gods! Why didn’t It occur to me sooner? I’ve been bloody hiding from the Circle in his own garden this whole time, when I can just leave...” Apple paused and gulped. “I mean, I’ll come back eventually of course, but it will be much easier to prepare myself to stop him without the constant threat of everyone... That settles it, I’m going straight to the docks and hiring a ship!” With that decided, Apple headed off towards the docks with a slight skip in his step.

**********

In Apple’s new eyes, he did not they see the dull metallic-looking ocean. instead of the dull blue everyone else saw; a boring blue. A blue no flower nor peacock would ever dress their body’s with, Apple saw a field of sapphires twirled by the gales. The dull grey that was so thickly mixed with the blue did not exist in Apple’s mind. It was a pure blue. A cool refreshing blue that cradled a lullaby to him of a bright future.

Only a generous five minutes away from the blue, he had to force himself from running the rest of the way. Best not draw any attention to himself in his last moments of this accursed island.

“Ahoy!” He yelled at what appeared to be a sailor, that stood upon the wooden planks of the dock. The maybe-sailor hosted a thick scruffy beard and seemed to inspect the ship in front of him with an expert’s knowledge, for Apple those were enough qualifications for being a sailor.

“Ahoy!” He yelled again, as it seemed the man did not hear him. No response again. Apple waited until he moved another one hundred steps closer until he called again.

“Ahoy!” Again, he cried. This time however the man seemed to have heard him and turned his direction. “Ahoy!” He now added a wave to his cry.

“Ahoy!” The most-likely sailor finally responded.

Apple quickened his pace, deciding to not start the conversation until he was in front of the man.

“Is this your boat?” He asked the hairy chap now in front of him.

“Aye, it be.” He replied with a hoarse voice.

“Wonderful!” Apple grinned uncontrollably. “Are you planning on any voyages in the coming days?”

“Aye. Be actually headin’ off on the morn’. Why lad, ya be wantin’ ya rump on one of me wooden plants, ‘ey?” He asked as he began to rub his hands with a stained washcloth.

It took Apple a second to decipher what the man had asked him. “Oh yes, absolutely. I wish to purchase a seat on your vessel.”

“You sure, lad? You ain’t even be told of where I ‘n’ me crew be headin’.”

“I don’t care. As long as it’s not here.” Apple so honestly and earnestly declared.

“On the run, ‘ey? Well I ain’t one to ask what chases a man’s tail, I’m not. All we seaman have had our nubs gummed a tad. Though I be warnin’ ya lad, this ain’t no passenger ship, ‘tis for fish ‘n’ salty folk. Your land walkin’ arse might not be able to ‘andle the cold mistress that tickles it.”

Apple was so thoroughly enjoying this man’s accent, he almost forgot to reply to him. “I’ll be fine, I’m tougher than I look.” He eventually said.

The sailor nodded. “Alright, be ‘ere at dusk ‘n’ we’ll talk coin.”

“Shouldn’t I pay now?” Apple responded with a slight tilt of his head.

“Nah. You’re not the first sod who’s asked to stow on me ship, you ain’t. Most of ya turn chicken ‘n’ don’t show up. Don’t sit right with me; takin’ a man’s coin without doin’ anything’, it doesn’t”

Apple was quite shocked, he didn’t expect such just words from a sailor. “Alright, I’ll be here at dusk, I promise you.”

The sailor grunted in response. “Sure. What be ya name lad anyway?” He asked.

Apple thought about coming up with another fake name, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort. “The names Apple. Yours?”

“Apple ‘ey, queer name, that is. Call me Phil.”

“Nice to meet you Phil.” Apple said as he brought his hand up.

“Likewise.” He remarked as he took hold of Apples hand and shook. “You’re a strange one, you are Apple. Ya look like ya been livin’ in a tree ya ‘whole life, but ya sound like a right posh git, ya do.”

Apple laughed. “Like you said earlier, we’ve all got something chasing us.”

“I see.” He hummed. “Be off now lad, I got work to do.”

“Very well, see tomorrow, Phil.” Apple replied, not taking offence at the brashness of the sailor’s words.

Apple didn’t wait for nor expect a farewell, so he simply turned around and walked off the dock. He was disappointed he was not leaving immediately, but less than a day's wait was still most certainly a blessing.

He supposed the best thing to do now was his original objective: find an inn.

**********

The Bramble Bush. An Inn of standard size made almost entirely of wood like the majority of buildings in the city of Pier.

Apple appraised the establishment before entering. It looked decent enough in its normality. He was actually worried that the sheer averageness of it might still be too much for him, especially since he needed money for the voyage tomorrow. A sum he could not calculate right now and it bothered him so. There was a good chance the lowly magician may have to finally resort to thievery to escape the land of Loncia.

Just as Apple was about to open the Bramble Bushes’ door, a sudden powerful force struck him from behind; tumbling forward and causing him to bang his head on the study door.

“Ow!” Apple instinctively yelped, as most due when they feel pain.

While in a slight daze, he turned towards the source of his discomfort, rubbing his forehead all the while. Sat awkwardly upon the rough ground in front of his feet was what appeared to be a girl, eyes closed from the sudden shock of impact.

“Look where you’re bloody going you little miscreant!” Apple scolded.

The girl looked up at him with a blank expression; unresponsive. She suddenly jumped onto the edge of her toes and darted past Apple, or at least tried to, “Oi. Where do you think you’re going young lady? Did your parents never teach you manners?” He asked as he grabbed her by the shoulder with his none staff-holding hand and held her in place.

She opened her mouth but instead of speaking she clamped her unusually large canines around Apple’s burn scarred hand.

Crunch.

“Shit biscuits!” Apple cursed, as he felt her teeth piece the newly formed skin on his palms.

“All right-all right, I’ll let go!” He screamed as he loosened his grip on her shoulder. Apple was thankful that she too released her grip as soon as he did.

Apple fell onto his knees and dropped his staff using his now free hand to cradle the freshly bleeding one. Apple thought back tears as he remembered he was in a public place and wished to not embarrass himself any further.

As he was absorbed in the task of trying not to cry, he felt a powerful gust of wind fly past his face, quickly followed by a yelp and then a thud. Apple turned his head towards the direction of the yelp and saw the extremely rude girl who had bitten him laid on the ground, her consciousness unknown.

“Magnificent shot, my Lord! But is she still alive?” Asked a wheezy voiced from somewhere in the distance.

“Oh, I believe so, I believe so. Merely a breeze I used on her, Master Henderson, merely a breeze. Although, should she have perished you should track down the gentleman who sold you your new you and ask for a refund for such brittle merchandise.” A voice that sounded as if its pitch was almost entirely produced by nostrils replied.

Apple gazed at the two men conversing whilst they approach him and the girl. The first voice belonged to an overweight man of average height. Adorned in a silk shirt, silk breeches with a silk jacket that wrapped around the two. A blatant receding hairline of brown, below an oily beard of black. However once Apple gazed upon the second man, all of the previous man’s characteristics were long forgotten.

Long oily black hair. Slanted blue eyes. Beneath them a long-crooked nose with a thin moustache so heavily waxed, Apple could see the sun reflect of it from a distance, beneath that. An ever so smug expression the man’s lips produced, an expression only a lifetime of being pampered and zero hardships could create. Although it was the clothes that truly caught Apples attention. A long robe of silks of various vibrant colours swam down his long thin body, almost completely hiding the man’s noble wine-gut. Blues, reds, yellows, greens, purples, and more. Their obvious beauty made the more monotonous white at the centre of the robe stand out. Not to Apple though. Carefully stitched fabric curled into the shape of a big thick Circle presented itself at the centre of the man’s garb.