Jorish shuddered as they walked around, he never minded attention, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little flustered.

“Well, it seems my fellow dwellers are as astonished about seeing foreigners as I was,” said Jorish.

“Ah, I guess that does make sense! But since they are not hostile, merely curious, I really don’t mind!” said Traves, grinning.

“Ehm… Anyway, where are you guys from?”

“We…” muttered Cail before he continued. “We have been on the road for quite a long time, and I can’t daresay where I am from for sure.”

“And I am the same! I do suspect I am from somewhere from the central lands, but I can’t say for sure. It's been a while!”

“I see…” said Jorish apologetically, he felt bad hearing their answers. He tried to think of something to break the silence but couldn’t.

Fortunately, they quickly reached the spot Jorish wanted to show them. He stopped as he exclaimed.

“Behold the grand relic of our city, for which our city is named, the eye of Zeltol!”

A gigantic golden ring floated as high in the sky. Inside the massive ring were smaller and smaller rings inside it. The rings constantly moved and rotated around each other. Thin but bright webs of light extended between the rings and crept through until they condensed in the center in a globe of light, almost as bright as the sun that shone above them.

“As you might know, in the cities every city has a grand relic, an eye, which the city is built around. This relic is the symbol of the city, it…” Hesitated Jorish as he hid his anger before continuing. “... protects us. if the lord of the city wills it, the ring will rise higher in the sky. Burning whatever dared to face it to the ground.”

Traves glanced at Jorish, while Cail suddenly looked more focused at the mention of the eye as a smile crept across his face. “Oh, can you tell me more about this?”

“Oh, that’s fine, but I don’t know too much. I heard that it would be enough to hurt anyone who isn’t a monarch, enough to even injure a candidate and the only thing I can say for sure is that anyone below that… would have no hope of existing after witnessing it.” Jorish said self-ridiculing, almost longingly.

Monarchs and candidates.

Jorish felt bitter as he thought about the summit of humanity. He stood there, praising the work of the man who ruined his life. Jorish loathed his own weakness, compared to those men and women who trained and cultivated for countless years, facing endless challenges and hardships. He was irrelevant.

They would train tirelessly to become practitioners. Jorish longed after the mythic strength they would command, as he thought even higher. Those practitioners would spend even more years of cultivation further and further. Training and praying, to have enough talent to be worthy of becoming a candidate, a candidate to become a future monarch, to be strong enough to rule everything.

The ability to cultivate and control energy was a blessing not everyone could grasp, and even those who could grasp it might lack the resources and the guidance to push forward to even the most elementary levels.

Jorish shook his head as he thought of his city, Zeltol. It was not small by any measure, yet it only had a single practitioner who was appointed as the mayor as well as the head of the city’s troops.

Most people might not see a candidate in their entire lives, let alone a Monarch, who wouldn’t stoop as low as leading just a city, Monarchs didn’t rule countries, they ruled continents.

Jorish loathed his knowledge and ignorance. He knew that he could alternatively cultivate his body, that it was possible to be a candidate and even a monarch through that. He knew just enough to keep hoping, and was ignorant of how. Leaving him in a hopeless cycle of self-loathing, unable to move on.

Jorish hated his own inability. He was still in the very first stage of sensing energies even after almost 30 years of his life. He knew he wouldn’t rise further, it wasn’t just his talent, which was definitely lacking. While fortunate enough to have a way to survive and to live outside of the slums in the city, he never had the fortune of having the resources or the time to dedicate to advancing in any way. He had to spend everything he had just to survive in that world.

As Jorish sunk further into his thought, Cail’s words bailed him out of his thoughts

“A very interesting artifact indeed, if my understanding is correct it probably stores the light and heat of the sun to both power its circuits as well as store excess as pure radiance to be used. I wonder...”

“Come on Cail, I know that this artifact has got your interest but don’t bore our friend here with your mumblings!” Interrupted Traves as he bumped Cail’s back.

“Ah, where are my manners. I apologize for my behavior just now. It seems that being in the presence of my friend here can sometimes make his bad qualities rub onto me.”

“Bad qualities rub off? Seriously Cail, let’s not pretend your fanaticism every time you see some artifact you haven’t seen before is something you gained off me. How long has it been? Almost fifty years and that has never changed about you!” Said Traves as he appeared to be about to get into a quarrel with Cail.

Fifty years? Pondered Jorish for a moment before deciding to interrupt their argument.

“Ah, I am sorry to interrupt you but I have no problems, mayhaps we can calm down over a bite of food?”

On the mention of food, all aggression evaporated from Traves’ face as Cail sighed and shook his head. “Yes, that might be a good idea.”

Just as soon as they had agreed, Jorish started to think of the best location to go to. I don’t have much money on me, but I really want to ask them about it… He wrestled with his own thoughts as Traves’ voice interrupted him.

“Can you take us to the best restaurant around here?”

Jorish stammered. “B, but..”

“Ah, Jorish. Don’t worry about it. This one’s on me!” said Traves proudly.

“But… It is really expensive. You know, I could get us something within a better range for…”

“Jorish, Jorish! I said you shouldn’t worry about it!”

At Traves’ insistence, they started walking through the streets of Zeltol. It was only a few minutes later as their destination started getting clearer.

Jorish looked at the building he often heard about, and at times dreamed of entering. He glanced at the columns which rose, joining near the top with cloth as it made it seem like a tent. Its glass front provided it with a nice view while still isolating it from the heat of the outside. Jorish’s eyes glanced at its both familiar yet modern designs.

As they stepped inside, Jorish felt cool air hit his face. He felt reinvigorated as a waiter stepped towards them. He was dressed in the traditional wear that the city dwellers would wear during important events. Reaching them, the waiter bowed as he spoke.

“Welcome to our humble restaurant, The Desert’s Breeze! Please follow me.”

Traves, Cail, and Jorish followed the waiter as he seated them in one corner of the restaurant.

Jorish looked down, noticing no seats. Instead, there was a carpet on the floor with wide pillows distributed around. Within a few moments, everyone sat and got comfortable on a pillow before Traves started asking excitedly

“So, while I have heard of some cuisines that you might have in the cities, I do want your recommendations if you don’t mind Jorish!”

“To be completely honest, don't expect much from me. I can give you some recommendations, but I have never been to such a fancy place.”

Traves chuckled before replying. “Don’t worry about it! I told you earlier, it’s my treat for helping us.”

As they were talking, the waiter walked in. Jorish watched as Traves enthusiastically ordered every dish he pointed to. A few moments later, the waiter bowed and walked away. Traves turned back towards Jorish as they resumed chatting.

“You have been traveling for a while, right? Do you mind if I… ask a few questions about your travels?” Asked Jorish, his eyes hopeful.

“Of course you can! I would be more than happy to satisfy your curiosity! Tell me, what are you curious about?”

“Well…” muttered Jorish, taking a small book out from his pouch. Jorish held his most prized possession, with its leather cover as he looked at the word written on its cover.

Legends of Regalia 3rd

“I have always been interested in those stories, always wanted to know what was out there,” said Jorish. “This has always been one of the few joys I had in life. I just.. Ah!”

Jorish froze as he looked forward, he saw Traves’ smiling face as his hand moved to his cloak. A moment later, a lethal book was placed on the table in front of him.

Legends of Regalia 2nd

“You.. have that book as well?” said Jorish, his breath stuck in his throat as his body shook.

He had been ridiculed his entire life. His interests and dreams were considered a childish fantasy. He was weak, without hope to reach such heights. Everyone he knew considered him a delusional fool. Someone who just couldn’t accept reality.

That book was his curse and salvation. It kept him sane, yet brought him ridicule. It bathed him in its dreams, its past, present and the future hidden within.

“The one I have is older, I got it sometime near the beginning of my journey. I never understood how that book got everywhere that it got, truth be told. I have often used it as a guide to plan many of my trips.” Said Traves before he continued, smiling “Tell me Jorish, which legends caught your interest?”

Air quickly rushed back into Jorish’s lungs, his shock replaced by excitement. A gleam shone in his eyes as he was filled with many emotions. Happiness, anticipation, and hope.

“There are many, many legends that interest me, legends whose stories I couldn’t imagine. People who I wish to be blessed with the chance to just gaze upon.” commented Jorish self-deprecatingly before getting his cheer back “But enough of that, back to the topic!”

“Even with all those stories and legends, some just shine above others.” continued Jorish “The easiest example I can ever give would easily be the dragon of the north, Vathlauss Titanvale!”

Jorish opened his book and flipped through the first few pages until he reached his destination.

Vathlauss Titanvale, The dragon of the north

The strongest Monarch in existence, Carrying his ax, the dragon’s claw.

With its blade broken into three fangs, each swipe would cause a storm, He crushed a revolution of thousands with a swipe of his ax. He feasted on the blood of dragons and beasts that dared exist in his presence. His body was immortal and undying. He rules over the north, yet he is no king. For he is unshackled, a dragon that owns everything it desires.

Jorish paused for a few seconds before adding “I heard of Vathlauss’s cruelty, yet more than anything I know of his strength.” He said before continuing, as a glint of hope briefly shone in his eye before it sunk back in their darkness. “I also heard that he was coreless, that he had no talent in energy cultivation, it was impossible for him. Yet, not only was it not a limitation, nothing in this world can dare to proclaim to be as strong as he is!”

“Indeed, Vathlauss’ strength is undeniable. I have been told by the people I met in the north that his temperance can be … questionable at times. Regretfully, that man disappears for tens or hundreds of years at a time. I never got to meet him when I was there!” Said Traves before being interrupted by Cail.

“Perhaps it is our good fortune that he was absent. Knowing you, we would have ended up trying to run from a very very angry monarch who just happens to be the strongest person alive.”

“Come on Cail, don’t be negative! I heard that he came out of his seclusion a few years back, maybe later, after we are done here we can try to go to the north again!” replied Traves causing Cail to shudder before he continued “But ah, we got on a tangent! Continue friend, who else caught your interest?”

Jorish took his book and flipped to another page.

The Grandshine of the Radiant Temple

The strongest Grandshine in the history of the Radiant Temple, nameless like all their brothers and sisters in the Temple. Yet the Grandshine rose to the highest seat of the Radiant Temple faster than anyone else in history.

Wielding the immortal lance, Sunpiercer. The Grandshine wears their golden armor creating the image of an undefeatable warrior. With their might, the Radiant Temple holds the central lands with absolute power. The Grandshine stood on their own, as they stopped an entire revolution, sending 10 thousand men into light, where whatever remained of their ashes would reside.

If evil would exist in the world, the Radiant Temple would swoop in, and extinguish it with absolute fury.

“The Grandshine of our generation is truly unrivaled. Unlike Vathlauss, the Grandshine mainly mastered Energy cultivation. However, their strength is still almost unrivaled. The Grandshine’s light would burn whatever threatens peace, and their spear would pierce everything that stands in their way!” added Jorish before being interrupted by Traves.

“Ugh. I wouldn’t deny the Grandshine’s strength, but trust me, not every legend is true. Each story is a blend of truth and lies, reality and deceit.” Said Traves, frowning, before continuing. “The Radiant Temple’s strength is true, and their rule is thriving. But justice is not what I would call it, and that Grandshine is probably the most infuriating person I have ever met.”

“And can you blame any person to cause issues for you?” said Cail as he sighed “I will not deny however that the Grandshine isn’t the most social person around.”

Jorish sighed, thinking of how his fellow acquaintances had accepted to playing along with his fantasies. Fifty years? Going to the north? Meeting the grandshine? Jorish sighed internally. It was just not possible. With a carriage, the trip to the north would take at least 5 years, and the resources it would cost would make that trip almost impossible.

The trip to the north was still somewhat believable, unlike meeting the Grandshine. To even see the Grandshine is not something anyone but the highest members of the Radiant would dare hope for, Even once if they were fortunate.

Jorish sighed again wanting to continue, before getting interrupted by the arrival of the food.

Within seconds, numerous dishes spread around the trio, assaulting them with all their aromas. Traves mindlessly extended his hand to the first dish.

Strips of dried meat sat on the dish. Their colors narrated stories of smoke, spreading the chronicles of blood and flames as they achieve victory. Achieving perfection. Surrounding the meat was an orange paste giving a sweet biting smell, almost contrasting with the savory smell of the meat, to create an unforgettable ballad.

Biting into the meat, Traves’ face went through many emotions. Jorish could see happiness, satisfaction, and interest flash through his face. He didn’t know what Traves had in mind, but he could guess. Their traditional dish, Kelbas, was a mystery to many. It was somehow both dry yet meaty and juicy, full of taste on the inside. With its puree boosting the whole experience, compensating for whatever it lacked while complementing everything it didn’t.

A few other dishes circled around them, yet none could take their eyes off the biggest dish in the core. It stood as the centerpiece of the feast. A roasted desert quail sat upon a throne of golden rice, inside of which swam countless colors representing the members of its royal court. Within that sea of rice were numerous herbs and other spices. They all stood together, raising the king to heights he would never reach on his own.

Jorish watched as a slight smile crept even on the face of Cail, who normally seemed to be constantly looking for an excuse to be grumpy, as he enjoyed the dishes. The trio ate in silence for a few minutes, until they finally overcame the burst of emotions they had experienced. Jorish continued speaking.

“There are others who might’ve been less interesting than those two, but are still very great nonetheless. The Shadowblade of Shal, The Sword Saint, and the Volcanosmith of Helmgard were all figures who stood at the heights of humanity..” Jorish paused for a few seconds. “But there is one figure that had truly interested me, one that I am sure you would not know about, since it was added in my edition and is not in yours! ”

“Oh? Well call me intrigued, who might your mystery legend be?”

Jorish quickly flipped through his book, landing on a certain page.

The traveler

No one knows much about the traveler, yet stories around Regalia keep rising about the mysterious figure. No two stories are the same, many doubt that a single traveler exists, instead they say that the traveler is nothing but a collection of folklore. Yet, all stories share two things, and two things only.

His strength, and his blade.

The voyage they called it. Thin and long, it was made of darkness. On its tip, it curves as an edge protrudes, like an arrow’s edge, lighting with colors that put the world to shame. The sword’s tip, made from the World’s edge, stands unparalleled. Not much else is known about it, but it is known that by witnessing the voyage, you would never mistake it.

For some, the traveler is the guardian angel, the wind of salvation.

For others, He is the storm of blood that will reap their souls

But what will always be true, wherever the traveler goes, chaos will follow.

Traves blinked, confused, as he read about the traveler. “I will admit, I don’t have anything about this traveler you speak of in my book. But I am more intrigued to know more about the Sand Sovereign of the Cities. I heard quite a bit about him and I want to see for myself.”

The cheer threatened to evaporate from Jorish’s face as he held back his emotion. As emotions flooded him. Fear, disgust but more than anything there was one emotion that dominated all yet hid beneath everything. Rage.

“The … Sovereign united those lands, united the cities 20 years ago.” He stole our freedom, twenty years ago.

“That I heard about, It wasn’t mentioned in my book since it was written a while before that. I read of both his courage, his bravery, and his strength” replied Traves

“You… are indeed correct.” Said Jorish, masking his emotions and hiding his face beneath a veil of his own self.

“But really, tell me more! I wonder if I can meet him.” Said Traves. oblivious to Jorish’s bubbling emotions.

“I really… don’t know more.” Please, stop. For such trash to be idolized. For such lies to be told about him… Why is this world so unfair?

“Come on! It’s alright, no worries. I do wonder what is written about him in your book, knowing it's more recent it is probably more accurate. Mind showing me?”

Like a fuse that was lit, Jorish suddenly lashed out as all self-restraint was lost.

“Please... Let's stop talking about that Tyrant. No, he’s no tyrant. He is a murderer.” each word drove his rage higher as his voice rose higher “That murderer isn’t anything like what those books portray him to be. You said it yourself, not every legend is true. Each story is a blend of truth and lies, reality and deceit. And he is not worth anything of what he got”

Jorish’s outlash caused some commotion, instantly driving his face pale as he realized what he had done, what he said. His new friends probably didn’t know, and he would keep it that way. It was his fault for causing this fallout. I might have time to try and salvage the situation. He hoped.

“Excuse… my outburst. I have lost control of my emotions.” He muttered. “It is getting late. Mind if we meet tomorrow at dawn? We can continue this tour and I would wish to ask you for a favor at that time if that is within your control.”

Unexpectedly, It wasn’t Traves that replied, but Cail. “Of course, friend. Your hospitality has not just been satisfactory, but your guidance has been a great asset despite my companion’s many… shortcomings.” Finished Cail as Traves grunted at another one of his remarks.

Immediately, Jorish hurried out and went his way. I could make it. He just needed to reach his home before any news reached the enforcers. He would gather whatever he could of his belongings and hide somewhere in the slums until the morning. Only then he would go beg those travelers if he had to for them to take him somewhere, anywhere he wouldn’t be known and hunted.

Closer, and closer his mind raced. He ran through the tight, cramped corners in the slums. None paid any attention to him, for everything there was a normality. Everything wrong in this world stood around him. Murder, theft and worse. Yet, he wouldn’t, No, at this point he couldn’t care. Every moment he could save and stay out of sight is another moment he lives.

Finally, hope returned to his eyes as he left the slums from an unknown route. His eyes caught sight of the ever-familiar walls of his house. He thanked the sun’s blessings that he lived so far out of sight, so hidden from everything else.

At least, those were his last thoughts before he felt weird dizziness and pain assaulting his head as he lost consciousness.