Prince Carmant didn't allow me much time to integrate into my new community before heading off to the coastal city of Ansransa just two days later. Still, the royal family gave me some allowance and during this time I managed to go get some clothes and necessities. I bought a notebook and a box of pencils made from a material called 'hul', and started sketching things and taking notes in order to study my current world. There were a lot of magical items for sale, and I realized that although magic was something that happened on a daily basis, it was used sparingly and valued as luxurious goods. While mages certainly had higher prestige, the streets were bustling with other folks doing things with their hands and machines which might or might not have a magical component. Evidently, the troubles we had on our way back from Fortress Valn were due largely to the royal mages being too cocky about their magic and wanting to show off traveling by flying swords and such things. Or maybe they wanted to go faster. Anyways, this time there was no real rush and Grand Mage Ultus "strongly advised" that everyone in the Crown Prince's entourage traveled by animals or automated vehicles. I could never afford a horse back on Earth, so I decided to get one, or anything that resembled one.

Even though Eann saved me and looked like the one with whom I should get along best, both of us being young women and all, in actuality I couldn't hang out with her without feeling exhausted because of how high-strung she was all the time. I ended up bothering Kaddash more often than not, and the old mage was curious about me enough to put a hold on his study on the Tiamat's Hair grass I gave him and accompany me to the streets of Enmerki on my quest to find a horse. I had hope: at least there was a word for "horse" in the vocabulary I inherited.

Ah, the actual thing was damn ugly.

Proportion-wise it was more like a mutant donkey with a huge head, tiny eyes and perky nose. It had hair under the belly and the long torso swayed awkwardly as it walked on six bony legs with big, flat hooves. The coat was moldy green. The only aesthetically pleasing parts of it were the mane and the tail, which were also green, but at least silky.

Sleipnir would cry.

"So, you like horses?" Kaddash smiled and broke the uncomfortable silence as we stood there staring at the animal. I could see he was trying his best, for a few seconds, to understand my acquired taste, but then decided to leave it. I shrugged.

"I actually… had something a bit different in mind. Do you happen to have any four-legged ones?" I asked the merchant.

"Sold last month." She replied sluggishly. "Bit the owner's fingers off, last I heard. This one is much tamer, though."

Nevermind, then.

Kaddash also explained to me that I had stepped onto Tiamat from the tip of her tail, where she touched Kur - the dragon of Death whose carcass contained the entirety of Irkalla. The order of the cosmos had always been, he said, that when souls traveled from Tiamat to Kur it meant death, and when they traveled from Kur to Tiamat it meant birth. Normally, the "traveling" happened where we couldn't perceive, but there were also tales of those who physically crossed between the two realms, and it was very likely that Tiamat constructed a living body after the image of the soul, literally giving birth to them again upon entry.

"That might explain your magical prowess, given that you are a Tiamatian. How are you feeling?" Said Kaddash, not hiding his excitement and curiosity.

"I feel excellent." I said. "But isn't everyone here Tiamatian? How come there are those with weaker or no magical power at all?"

"Well, we only use "Tiamatian" to refer to the direct offspring of Tiamat." Kaddash explained, "They emerge from her body, from her power, and have no other parents. The power thins out down the line."

Apparently, Tiamatians were a rarity, and most were monsters. So a humanoid Tiamatian was both a subject of curiosity and a collection item for the Enmerki royalty to boast. I wondered why I wouldn’t get demigod treatment. I was technically the direct offspring of a primordial god, wasn’t I? And here I was, paying a hundred fifty Kuras for a mutant donkey. Yes, I took the poor thing. I just named it Donkey.

Ansransa was situated on the shore of an awkward sea that got cut off in the distance by the actual border of Kirush. Since it was sort of a diplomatic quest, the crown prince only brought twenty elite warriors and seven mages including me. It would take us seven whole days to get there, and despite being a target of ridicule especially by prince Carmant, my Donkey was surprisingly fast and vigorous. I occasionally rode in the other mages’ carriages, however, to save my poor buttocks.

I still had no idea how long a day was here, compared to Earth. They simply split it into twelve hours, and each hour into “coming”, “sitting” or “going”. That made thirty-six intervals. Instead of rising and setting, the “sun” seemed to circulate clockwise over Kirush like a traveling UFO. I didn’t suspect it was very big, but the sky here was always so hazy it was hard to tell the distance and size. As we started out traveling North-east roughly in the same direction as the sun, we had a bit more daytime than usual.

In the evening we stopped at a village. I kept squinting my eyes at the going sun, trying to guess its size, to no avail. My curiosity made prince Carmant curious too, and he came over to start squinting himself.

“What exactly are you doing, outlander?” He finally asked.

“Your sun must not be very big.” I said. “For it to be able to dim out in the distance enough for you to have something called the night. Say, how big is Kirush? Is it flat?”

“Obviously not, are you an idiot? There are mountains and trenches, can’t you see with your eyes that it’s not flat?” Carmant started to lose his patience.

I sighed. “That’s not what I meant. But, forget it.” I turned around. “How are you doing, Your Highness?”

Carmant widened his eyes:

“I am right in front of you, fine, and mighty!” He spoke loudly, albeit confused. It seemed casual greetings were understood differently here. I nodded:

“I’m glad. You need to be at your mightiest when we arrive, you are our Royal Commander after all.” I smiled. “Is there anything you would like me to do?”

Carmant looked at me, unsuredly, full of suspicion and curiosity. “You stay where I can see you and don’t you dare do anything suspicious.” He threatened.

“Yessir.” I said, and started following him around. I wasn’t allowed to do anything “suspicious,” which meant, according to Carmant’s definition, no talking to the locals, no interacting with animals, no touching anything and no going to the toilet without an escort. In this situation of practical probation the only thing I could do was doodling and scribbling away on my little notebook. I wrote in English so that I could understand even when the language spell wore off. I sketched the trees and the beasts, and took notes of the apparent ethnicities that could be observed amongst my associates. They watched me work and marveled at my notes as I in turn marveled over them. I felt like a...what were they called again? A kind of humanity researcher? Anthropologist?

After dinner we found some musical instruments and I was allowed to play, but they were very different from ours. Maybe even the principle of sounds was different. What then had happened to my singing voice, that I was once so proud of? As we sat around the table, chattering and drinking alcohol, I started singing “Country Road.”

Country road, take me home,

To the place, I belong

I still sounded the same. The English lyrics echoed in the room as everyone started to notice and stopped talking. I quickly regained my vocal control, and, feeling more comfortable, I sang louder. Their attention, their curiosity, their stares… they all just seemed to me like any other audience I’ve performed in front of, so familiar, and yet this stage was so bizarre. I sang again and again; I could feel myself trembling, maybe from the thrill, maybe from the oddly touching “miner’s lady, stranger to blue water” which meant nothing personal to me at all, or maybe from hearing accompaniment starting up somewhere around the room, first disorienting but then quickly blending in with my otherworldly song. Our worlds were so different, yet music was the same. Music was the same everywhere. It was our souls, our tears and our laughters, in a language unboundable by worlds. I sang other songs, too, and looked at their smiles. Only at this moment did it truly felt like a magical journey.

From their appreciation I was sure I was to be appointed the designated singer of the group, but no: apparently, the warriors also liked to sing and much preferred their own drinking songs to something they couldn’t quite understand. I would like to go into details about our fights for the spotlight at every such after-meal show, but I digress. Those would be stories for a different time. One mage, however, promised to teach me the language spell, so I could help them understand the lyrics of the songs I sang. Those were pleasant times, and by the time we arrived in Ansransa, prince Carmant had already lowered his guard against me. He even let me sketch a portrait of him in my notebook, and insisted that I get the shape of his ears right.

I became aware that the prince was driven by a great pride in his royal stature and responsibility. Despite his short temper and often obnoxious way of expressing himself, he wasn’t a fool, nor a bad leader. His warriors rather liked him. The mages, not so much, but they rather regarded him as a big child. Somehow I had the feeling Carmant would make a better ruler than his absentminded father. Or at least, a much more active one.

I walked into the meeting room the night before we reached Ansransa, greeted by everyone. Prince Carmant was getting impatient and scolded me for taking too long to bathe. They were planning the steps and formation we would take when entering the city; the prince wanted his demon-slaying entourage to look the best possible, and would allow no slacking of mannerism. So I was surprised when Carmant said:

“Outlander, swap your horse for a girga, you are to ride alongside me!”

I widened my eyes:

“How come? I can’t possibly be allowed to ride next to the Royal Commander?”

“You can.” Carmant said. “Since you’re the Mage from the End of the World. A pure-blooded Tiamatian mage.” He sounded very pleased with himself.

“We thought about it.” One of Carmant’s personal attendants, a warrior named Dayll, said “Words are already traveling around that the Crown Prince of Enmerki has an outlander in his entourage. Right now Ansransa is pretty worn out by the demonic incidents, and doesn’t seem enthusiastic about us coming. We would like their best cooperation, so instead of giving them one more reason to be suspicious of us, we’ve decided to, well, present them with some hope and excitement: A great Mage from the End of the World.”

The other mages rolled out a flag with purple silk embroidery in these words. Sounded like a whole marketing plan.

“I’m… I’m not that great.” I shook my head, feeling for all the work they put in. “I’m sorry, I’m not even really a mage.”

“Are you not capable of using magic?” Dayll asked.

“Well, yes, but-...”

“Then you’re a mage. Did you not come from the Valley of The End? Did you not charge through a valley full of corpse-men and emerged unscathed?”

“Yes, and.. Yes..”

“That’s great. Then the story we’re telling is the truth. Unless you lied to us.” Dayll concluded.

“I didn’t lie…” I spoke, uncomfortably. “It just feels like false advertisement… What if they expect too much from me?...”

“Worry not!” Carmant laughed, stood up and firmly placed his hand on my shoulder. “They’ll forget about you once they witness my exploits. Moreover, you should worry about what I expect from you first, outlander. Do not forget that this expedition is a trial for you as well, as a bearer of the Royal Mage title.”

Well, ain’t that great.