Chapter 32

Brightflood Plains

“Rivers and streams, lakes and skies; spirits mingle in all but this grass.”

Poems (IV)

Brightflood Plains referred to a stretch of land north of the Silent Crossing, a lengthy wound of the Sumnner's River that had no mountains surrounding it on either side and was the only point through which it was possible to cross into the Lumina Kingdom from the south. It was composed of the armed encampment split into dozens of smaller ones that ran along the river's bank, and a set of towns rising up in the backdrop. It blended into the fertile lands up north, making it the longest stretch of flatland in the Kingdom.

Everyone traveling down or up the Sumnner's River, however, eventually has to end up docking at the central encampment – Brightfort. Noah stood on top of the ship's deck, staring at the behemoth with dazzling awe in his eyes. It cast a massive shadow over the river, blackstone cascading into thick and sturdy-looking walls reaching over three hundred feet at their highest point, and just over two hundred at their lowest.

Towers stuck out like spears ever so often, projecting into a wide crescent shape upfront as the walls themselves curved inland, away from the river's bank, the further away from the center one looked. Dozens of ships stood docked at the massive port, of all sizes, shapes and makes, to the point that it was hard to recognize this was a river, and not an ocean.

Late day's sun gave the military fortress an even spookier appearance, dousing it in the thick shade. Even from the ship, Noah could easily distinguish hundreds of guards patrolling the walls, and the land outside the fortress where everyone was admitted and processed it seemed. It made sense, though; after all, this was the only possible point of invasion from the south, as the rest of the Kingdom was surrounded in tall mountain chains that had no routes armies could take.

“We’ve arrived, Master.” Sash said, standing next to him.

“Hm,” Noah nodded. “I wonder how they built that thing…”

“… I heard parts were already there,” Sash said. “And they added onto it.”

“… is that so?” Noah mumbled, once again recalling that history prior to the appearance of the First Outlander seemed wholly wiped from the records – yet, it left places like these behind. It certainly wasn’t nearly as simple as ‘a lot of barbaric tribes and made up kingdoms fighting’. “It’s our turn, let’s go.”

Noah said as their ship came to a standstill, pulling in. Members of the crew aligned by the exit, letting the guests leave first, among which Noah, Myrell, and Sash were the last. Touching the solid ground felt rather revitalizing for Noah, as he'd gotten remarkably bored and annoyed with life during the journey. They were immediately welcomed by four guards, each decked out in top-tier plate armor, visors hiding their faces.

“Identifications.” Noah reached into his pocket and took out his parchment of identification, as well as Sash’s and Myrell’s slave contracts, handing them over to the guard who slowly read through, glancing at the latter two. “Entrance fee for slaves is crown per head.”

“It’s not.” Noah said, smiling faintly. “I checked.”

“Are you defying the Brightguard?” the guard spoke with a clear sense of disdain.

"… are you defying my Master?" a faint sound of steel scraping against the thick scabbard drew the attention of the guards to a tall, broad, and angry-looking black man standing to the flamboyant merchant's side. The pair of eyes stared at the guards hollowly, ready to draw that sword at a moment's notice.

“… c-control your slave.”

"Forgive him," Myrell stepped forward after taking a deep breath. "His attachment to Master is rather obsessive; though, to be fair, mine is no worse. You have tried to swindle my Master out of crowns due to personal greed, and I feel inclined to report you to the Bright Lord and Bright Lady. Please provide your Guard Identification, as per the eighteenth clause of the 'Brightguard Conduct'."

“… what’s the hold up here?!” an angry voice bellowed from behind as a fairly tall man walked over, garbed in the same, plate armor, though lacking the helmet. Bald-headed, the man appeared to be in his late forties, shaven cleanly, sporting eagle-nose and a pair of burned eyebrows decorating bright, green eyes. The same pair that quickly landed on Sash’s stance, causing him to frown. “A filthy Yosshir dares make a disturbance here? Are you his Master?” he looked at the flamboyant-looking merchant and asked.

“I am.” Noah replied simply, still smiling.

“Take your filth and get back on the ship, lest I behead you all right here and now.”

“…” Noah’s smile turned cold for a moment, just barely enough for the old guard to notice and flinch. “My, my, and here I was hoping to live the grand stories of how welcoming and warm the Brightfloods are. Two crowns, huh?” he added, reaching into his pockets and taking out three coins, each the size of a small pebble, twirling them around his fingers. “A small price to pay for that hospitality, no?”

"…" the guard's hand was already on his sword's handle, though he didn't know why. Though the Yosshir standing menacingly did stir some fear in him, it paled in comparison to the seemingly boyish merchant; that quick coldness… it was unforgettable. "You are too gracious," he forced on a smile, urging the other guards to take the coins. "Please enjoy the Brightfort to your heart's content."

“… hm,” Noah smiled as he signaled to Myrell and Sash to move out, passing the guards. “I intend to. Keep up the good work…”

The old guard watched the trio cross the set of stalls and head toward the Iron Gate, his body finally relaxing. Only then did he realize he was doused in a cold sweat, his heart beating furiously.

“C-captain—”

“Hush,” the old guard quickly interrupted the soldiers that were about to complain. “No word of this to anyone. If you see that man ever again, run. You hear me?”

“E-eh? Why?”

“Just do it.”

“… y-yes…”

Noah had immediately put it all behind him, as he simply used the opportunity to see how ready Myrell and Sash were. Though quite decent, there was still a lot of work left to do – especially because both appeared to be on the verge of tears at the moment, shaking in fear.

He chuckled faintly, ignoring them and instead focusing on the massive gates made entirely out of thick iron – black and ashen, nearly two hundred feet tall and over eighty long, bridled in carved sigils of Light, it wasn’t hard to see they were virtually impenetrable. Eight guards stood in front, inspecting the newcomers even further, forming a fairly lengthy line.

“You two,” he said, turning toward them. “Go and ensure our goods are taken care of. Give whoever’s in charge a crown – subtly, of course, just like I taught you. Just do the same thing you did back then if someone bothers you, and you should be fine.”

“But… what about you, Master?” Sash asked, looking around and realizing everyone else in the line had at least three to four guards next to them.

“… don’t worry about me,” Noah said, smiling faintly. “If they ask for your identification, just show them your slave mark and say that you are property of Flint Fyllun.”

“… who’s that?” Myrell quizzed, tilting her head.

“I am.” Noah grinned.

“…”

Though the day was coming to a close, it was hardly dark due to the countless lanterns hanging off the walls as well as the strange-looking gems that radiated color in a full-frontal cone. Though he stayed lonesome in the queue, nobody approached him or tried talking to him, as everyone seemed to be too busy with their own realities. Beyond these walls, after all, awaited a whole new world, and whoever came here, came for one of two reasons: to find work, or to sell something.

Elucido may be the Kingdom's capital of wealth, but Brightfort, a much smaller place in comparison, was a close second. Trades transpired on a daily basis, be it on open or the hidden markets, private and public sort, and countless stories and rumors circulated the Kingdom about how easy it was to get rich here. The hearts of men, after all, didn’t seem to be all that different than they were back on Earth; no matter how good things were, everyone always spoke of better places in some faraway land, where gold grows on trees and ships are made of diamonds.

Noah knew that it was nowhere near as easy to get rich as the rumors would have people believe, but he didn't care. After all, the point of this journey wasn't to get rich, but instead to form connections. His get-rich scheme was already in place back in Elucido, and he had nowhere near enough capital to expand it into the Brightfort already. For now, simply establishing relationships with some of the Fort's elites, and perhaps even the representatives of the Family in charge themselves will have to do. Eventually, however, he naturally intended to add a branch here – perhaps even make it the main one. After all, gut purchases were far more common here, and when people were short on money with something tempting right in front of them, they are far more likely to make a moronic decision – like borrow from his bank.

“That’s strange,” a melodic voice pulled him back to reality and forced him to glance sideways where he saw a rather extravagant entourage stood by him; it was composed of three linked wagons dragged by white-maned horses and the central carriage, decorated to the point of vomiting, with shine and glisten representing each one of its corners and edges. The whole thing was escorted by over twenty people, and the person who spoke to him seemed to be the woman looking at him – she was fairly young, from his estimates, somewhere in her early thirties, dressed as flamboyantly as her carriage was decorated. “You rarely see a lonesome soul visiting the Fort.”

"…" Noah met her curious gaze with a smile, remaining silent.

“What’s your name?” she asked as she stepped off the carriage, much to the dismay and protest of her attendants.

“It’s Flint, my Lady,” Noah replied, bowing slightly; though it was inconspicuous, the treatment she received was slightly different than that of just some important woman – she looked to be a part of one of the Houses. “Flint Fyllun.”

"Flint, huh?" the woman approached him and stopped a few feet away, inspecting him with increased curiosity. "So, tell me, Mr. Flint, why are you standing alone?"

"… because I want to get into the Fort, my Lady?" Noah replied, smiling cheekily. As he expected, it worked. The woman's lips curled up into a smile as she covered her lips with her hand, chuckling lowly. Long and curled brown hair unfolded over her shoulders, a pair of green eyes turning into a crescent, staring at him.

“… because you want to get into the Fort, hoh? What for?”

"… hmm," Noah mumbled. "I've heard countless stories of the Fort's riches and was simply too curious to pass on the opportunity. Perhaps, Lady Luck may strike my lowly self fancy, and help me to no longer wait in lines alone…"

“… he he, you are a curious man, Flint Fyllun,” she chuckled after a brief silence. “Why don’t you join me?”

“… my Lady?”

“Not unlike you,” she explained. “My carriage feels loathsomely lonely. Why don’t you skip the line and join me instead? Chatting might make the time pass faster.”

“… I’d be honored, of course.” Noah said, smiling.

“Oh? No pretenses? At last, a man unwilling to tussle with the opportunity,” she giggled for a moment as she turned around, signaling something toward her attendants. “Fix us each a cup of Bright-tea, Miya. And don’t disturb us”

“Yes, my Lady.”

Interesting, Noah thought, maintaining a proper appearance while following after her, his mind spinning. Perhaps Lady Luck indeed existed, and she had intended fancied him today; after all, from the looks of it all, and if he allowed his imagination to coat the reality slightly, he’d met someone he never thought he’d meet. Did he lie to me? No… chances are, he was fucked over… as best he knew, which her introduction after they got into the carriage would confirm, the woman in front of him was none other than the ‘target’ of his journey here: Lady Claire Myrsell herself.