Authors Corner

If you notice any grammatical or spelling errors, please let me know. Of course, any other feedback is also welcome.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 6 – A tale of one or two cities.

Wilson.

Gol-ta.

We're approaching the city walls. Sav has said little more than before, and nothing overly useful. He is definitely suspicious by nature. It's aggravating getting information from him.

He's mentioned the city name, Gol-ta, or just Gol if you're being lazy. I asked him whether it was one city in halves or two separate cities, and the response I received was disappointing.

“Who cares?”

I carried on with my barrage of questions, and finally wrestled another fact out of Sav. It appears that its two halves are named the Upper city and the Lower city. How original.

After rolling my eyes, I admit to myself that I appreciate the simplicity. It's obvious that the fortress of an island rising above the ocean is the Upper city, and that we're coming towards the Lower city by land. The simplicity is a blessing, because any more information than this and I'd be too overwhelmed to listen. I am taking in my very first peek at civilization. My eyes might be sparkling.

We're nearing the city gates near the waters edge. They are unexpectedly weak looking, because portcullis is made of a dark wood. Compared to the smooth strength of the stone walls, it seems like the gate would be far easier to attack, to me.

The gate is right near the water, so I can see that concern from land attacks would be low. You could just go out into the water and around the wall to get in.

I'm not sure anyone would even notice you, the water is that hectic.

I've never seen so many sea-craft in one place before. Then again, I've never seen any sea-craft at all with this particular set of eyes. Warships, rowboats, barges and every other kind of basic seafaring vessel is filling the inlet between the cities. It's astounding.

This hodgepodge of vessels is bustling back and forth, from section to section, from city to ocean, and from ocean to city. This city must be a major seaport.

It's impressive, yes, but for some reason looking at the ships, I can only think they're quaint.

I'm lost in thought when we finally reach the gate.

Rather than me, Sav is looking rather suspicious himself. He slid down from the front of the wagon and is conversing quietly with one of the guards while casting looks from side to side. She looks similar enough to Sav and me, except for being female, of course. I can make out her face due to the armor she's wearing. Is hers an attractive face to me? I...really don't know.

Wait, are those guards wearing wooden armor? It's the same dark material as the gate. Maybe that wood isn't as weak as I'd thought.

Another guard comes around after hearing what Sav was saying. He rounds the side and investigates through the flap and comes nearly face to face with me.

I take it back, give me the pleasant looking lady guard instead, this mans mug is ugly.

He takes a good look at me, from top to bottom, then his eyes widen more and more until he steps back around the side of the wagon. Oops, I feel a familiar twinge in my right eye. Was I snarling again?

While I'm thinking dangerous thoughts, Sav hops back on the front and we start rolling through the gate.

---

Wilson.

Inside the labyrinth that is the Lower City of Gol-ta.

This place is wild. There are people everywhere. Some of the roads we're turning on to are so thick with people that they're pressing against the wagon. They are all wearing a random assortment of clothes. All the buildings in the Lower city are randomly decorated as well. I start to recognize themes and patterns as we move along, but they don't really mean much to me.

As we wind through the streets I get to see all kinds of strange architecture, little of it includes that dark wood I saw earlier. Stone, a lighter wood and vibrant colors are what these structures are made of. The Lower city has nothing like the orderly aura that the Upper city gives off from afar. It's pure mayhem instead.

I can tell that order is well kept though because I see guards everywhere. With this many people, I think it only makes sense. The people far outnumber the guards, but the Lower cities layout make riot seem futile.

This place would be hard to invade. It's really difficult to tell where you are. It looks like we are going to the docks on the water when I get glimpses from the back of this wagon, it's just that the route we are taking feels slow. After harassing Sav some more, it turns out the roads that lead directly to the docks from the gate are reserved for soldiers, officials and emergencies. At least I think they are, I have a hard time deciphering Sav's short sentences.

For two people who should be speaking roughly the same language, it is still hard to communicate. It's likely mostly Savs fault, but I won't know until I get a chance to talk to another human.

While I've been contemplating, we've passed various shops.

The one I'm looking at now has a few swords and sabers on display with prices shown neatly on wooden placards. I don't have any idea what these numbers mean compared to other goods, but at least I can confirm I can read to an extent. It's comforting information.

What's discomforting are the stares I've been receiving. The locals have been eying me through the flap of the wagon, and their stares are wary as if I'm a wild animal. It's enough to cause a twinge in my eye.

I need to be careful to not worry about it the stares so much. I might just prove them right. I suddenly have this image pop into my head of a wolf tearing through sheep.

I really need to be careful, all these people around is stressing me out.

It'd be better if I could talk to them and they'd stop staring at my body.

When the wagon is close enough they first glance at my face and then they become wary as they take in my body. Now that I've got a chance to compare myself to more than just Sav, I think my looks are fairly average, brown hair, brown eyes and sun-tanned skin. My body is a different story. I'm not a huge person, I'm nearly average height, compared to the people we're rolling past. But it's not my height that they are likely staring at, it's my build.

I'm covered from head to toe in svelte yet defined muscle. They must be able to see it poking from where the outer layer of my robe shuffles around and the near invisible inner layer reveals all my lines. The cherry on top is that my skin is as buttery smooth as a newborn. My body looks like a damned statue. It is worrying enough that I don't feel like this body is mine, but the distrusting eyes of these people makes it even worse. I feel like I'm hiding inside the skin of another human. Hopefully my wolf doesn't come out from underneath.

Ah. My eye twitched.

...

I don't blame these people, I can understand being careful of a man with soft unblemished skin and visible strength.

Yes, it's totally understandable. Such a person in a medieval setting would stand out.

Everyone I've seen here is a bit cleaner and better looking than poor Sav, but they still have scars and scratches and the weathered skin that comes with a life full of hardship and manual labor. I think that if I wasn't in the back of a crude wagon with my hands above me like a prisoner it would help my circumstances. They can only see up to my elbows from our respective positions, but my posture still looks strange.

Regardless, I want them to stop and I can't use my hands to close the flap. Sav doesn't seem likely to want to stop to do it either, so I've come up with an idea.

I make as many bubbles as I can, and an amount appears that roughly doubles in number from my last attempt. Elated, I then will them as small as I can and they become smaller than before too. Then I think of them as all one surface and they bind together into a mesh that mildly distorts the air. After waiting for a moment of respite from my onlookers, I mentally will them to rest across the opening and on the inside of the flap

The effect is almost perfect. We start passing more people as we take yet another corner. None of them seem to care about me. It's strange that the effect is this good, but perhaps since the wagon is dark inside, the effect is subtle one. Regardless, I'm happy with the result.

The only downside is that I can no longer see the surroundings well. I've seen as many houses as I want to, anyways, so I'll just idle the rest of the ride away.

Oh, I smell sea salt again. We're getting close.

---

Sav.

Gettin' to the Docks now.

Time for trouble, certain.

The wild one been actin' right strange back there. Had some small fuss in the streets when the folk spotted 'is Spirits-blasted Ethul.

I cannit get 'im outta it, of course, but I shoulda closed that stupid flap. His precious view can be Spirits-blasted too. The cityfolk always be chatterin' too much to be up to any good. This one be too wellabout not to chatter 'bout. A rumour be startin' from this, certain.

The Merchant ain't gonna be likin' that rumour, neither. He said before to be all quiet like

If he wants to be quiet like, then I'd be happy to see 'im

I don't be likin' what I must be doin' when we cross the water. I know the rules though, and Heram knows I not be takin' the rules lightly in this city.

The cityfolk fear these Magekin beyond what they oughta. I be a fair folk like the next, but fair is fair, and stupid is stupid. That Merchant is a crafty one 'imself, he must be havin' his reasons.

It'll be a fun go of it when I get to see 'is face. He'll 'ave a tough time with this one, certain.

Now how can I be causing no trouble takin' this beast across the water?

It'll be tough to outfox 'im.

Certain.

---