“I feel like a country bumpkin,” Walter said to Flipper as he gawked at the grand city below them, a glistening jewel nestled between two idyllic mountains.

Flipper squeaked in agreement, equally as enraptured.

The young god of death and his companion had traveled to this capital because of a particularly obstinate soul. It refused to leave and return to the cycle, and Flipper was for once unable to force the soul to follow.

It had been a month or so since Walter’s last foray into the mortal world, and the god had picked up a few new tricks to help blend in. The man still looked out of place, his pale skin and dark eyes contrasting against the rest of the world’s population, but his energy would no longer give him away.

It was something Davy and Walter had worked on together, the project becoming a way for the two to bond.

“You should be able to surround yourself in Divine energy, lad,” Davy had said. “Something not affiliated with yerself. Then, anyone lookin’ at ya can’t see that you’re Death.”

“Like camouflage,” Walter answered.

“Don’t know what that is,” Davy admitted.

“Patterns used to hide a person in forests and such,” Walter answered.

“Then, yes,” Davy said. “Jus’ pull some fresh energy out of souls and surround you with it. It’ll wear off after a bit, but it’s better than nothin’.”

“How long is a bit?” Walter asked.

“A week, two tops?” Davy mused.

“Got it,” Walter answered.

And that was how Walter made his Shroud of Death, masking his visage from anyone who would want to scan him. It had worked wonders when traveling through the Beast Empire, as every guard scanned him whenever he passed through gates.

It was a far cry from the sparing use in Tivwo’s village. It seemed that the girl’s town was one of the rarer ones that were less open about scanning. Walter had found that not only guards, but many townsfolk were the same way.

It made the fledgling god of Death slightly uncomfortable, and Walter had found himself using more and more backroads to reach his destination.

His Human soul was used to a bit more privacy.

That was how Walter and Flipper found themselves on a small mountain pass above the capital of the Beast Empire. The jewel of a city shone a dull auburn under the sunlight.

“It’s beautiful,” Walter whispered.

Flipper squeaked in agreement.

The two companions made their way down the mountainous path, eventually arriving at the farms on the outskirts of the city. The Empire had carved terraces out of the mountain stone, reminiscent of the Incan empire from Earth. However, instead of rice, the Empire on Sod’s planet cultivated a strange tree-bush hybrid that produced multiple bulbous fruits. Further down, Walter saw a storehouse where other workers shucked the tough skin off the plant and tossed the pulpy mess of seeds off to the side.

Even more workers grabbed the baskets of skin and brought them over to a series of drying racks. From there, the plan skins were moved to a long trough with a large grindstone at the end. Two beasts of burden walked up and down the trough, grinding the dried skins into a flour.

“Ho there, stranger,” one of the farmers said as Walter stared at the process.

“Oh, hello,” Walter nodded to the farmer.

“Visiting our grand city for the coronation?” the farmer asked.

“Yes,” Walter lied. “I can honestly say I’ve never seen anything quite like this.”

“Ay, not many have,” the farmer answered. “Garegom spent his whole life improving the valley, and now we reap the benefits of his labors.”

“I’m not familiar with the name,” Walter admitted.

The farmer eyed the young god, and Walter spotted the signs of Scanning. However, all the farmer could see was a young man who had traveled across much of the world and had encountered many things.

Seeing that Walter wasn’t a criminal, the farmer relaxed. “A traveler, then. Garegom was our emperor before his recent passing. He lived a long life, he did. Six of our generations according to the records.”

“Incredible,” Walter answered.

The farmer nodded. “Aye. And now that he’s passed, his young son, yet to take a name, will be crowned emperor. That’s why we’ve seen many travelers such as yourself. Not everyday someone witnesses a crowning.”

“I hope all the inns aren’t full then,” Walter said.

“Those near the king’s square will be,” the farmer answered. “But I reckon you can find something on the outskirts easy enough.”

“Well, thank you for the information,” Walter replied.

“No trouble,” the man answered.

Walter waved goodbye and continued down the path. He continued to marvel at the city as the terraced farms changed to rich brown houses topped with amber thatched roofs. Those were the replaced by more amber houses, these crafted from bricks and roofed with various brightly painted shingles. It seemed each house had a different pattern, and Walter quickly picked up that each pattern was unique to each family.

“Wow, they weave the patterns together when they marry. See that one, Flipper?” Walter pointed. “That one has the spiral of the house over there, and the colors of the one beside it.”

Flipper squeaked.

The two continued to walk until Walter found a slightly larger building with sets of tables and chairs sitting outside. Customers sat together around the table, dipping a piece of flatbread into a communal soup.

“I guess this is the inn,” Walter said.

He stepped inside.