By the second day on the road, Ivory was getting bored. He believed that the contents of his phone and imagination could entertain him for the trip, but that novelty was beginning to fade. Fran forbade any magic casting, with the exception of [Light], provided he did not push it outside the caravan lest it distract Sooky and Danger, Fran’s horses. When Ivory had asked about Danger’s name, Fran laughed and recounted the tale of their meeting. After all, they had a long ride ahead.

Fran, a then young and low levelled [Stablehand], was given those two as her charge when she was employed by Calanfer’s Gilded Stables. The two sibling fillies were less than impressed at Fran’s existence: they hated being brushed and walked, they’d shit in inconvenient places and would seemingly intentionally whinny loudly at opportune times to scare anyone present. They both enjoyed it greatly. Fran named the first sister Sooky, since she would scream when being brushed, and the second Danger, as she would get a terrifying look in her eye when she was inconvenienced—which was often.

“Sooky I was never scared of, since she was all bark and no bite. Danger, even as a little thing, always made me nervous,” she had told Ivory. They had never actually hurt anyone, but the names stuck. When they had become full grown, the two sisters had bonded with Fran. Neither mare would allow anyone to ride them, which didn’t bother Fran—she didn’t like riding. Surprisingly, they enjoyed carting things around, and eventually Fran would create her own business, alongside Sooky and Danger.

Ivory was greatly amused that Skills could affect animals, and was shocked to learn that Danger had an earring that allowed her to cast [Fear]! Fran had told a funny story—to her!—about a time when a group of [Bandits] had attempted to ambush her, only for Danger to rear up on her hind legs and whinnying a frightful chorus. The [Bandits] unsurprisingly fled, to mocking laughter from both Fran and Sooky.

That was the second day. By the fourth, Ivory was nearing on death by boredom. He was shocked that he was completely over casting [Light]—one of his pet peeves on the Harry Potter series was that Harry, a muggle, wasn’t completely and utterly immersed in his studies. After all, he had discovered that magic was real, and he was a wizard! As if he’d ever want to stop learning and casting spells!

Well, Ivory began to sympathise. The thought of conjuring another ball of light would have sent him into catatonia. On the night of the fourth day, Ivory decided to just drug himself to sleep, hoping it would pass the time more. It wasn’t as if he was sleeping poorly—he reckoned he was sleeping for about 7 hours each night, and comfortably. They’d not stopped at any inns yet; for the sake of convenience, they had both slept in the carriage in each Inn’s stables. This wasn’t technically allowed, but Fran’s reputation preceded her. Taking a bit of the sleeping potion gave him a dreamless, 10 hour sleep. It was beyond phenomenal.

On the morning of the 6th day, they’d arrived at the port of Pheislant. Ivory hadn’t taken any sleeping potion the night before, worrying about a potential reliance he may develop, so he was woken up easily by Fran.

“Alright,” she said, “you’ve got the whole day to yourself. We’re set to return by nightfall, so meet me at the Seashell Grotto—see that building over there, by the docks? That’s it. I’ve got business to attend to while I’m here, so I’ll stable the girls there.”

Ivory waited for Fran to continue, but that was it.

“Where’s the Merchant’s Guild?” Ivory asked.

“I’m headed there first, as it happens. Come with me while I check the girls in then we’ll there.”

Ivory walked alongside Sooky and Danger as they trotted along. He felt like he was at the beach—the seagulls were singing their song, and a light breeze was carrying the all-too-familiar smell of salt water.

Ivory closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Nostalgic,” he thought. Ivory was spooked out of his immersion by Sooky, who had veered ever so slightly over to Ivory and gave a great huff. She whinnied in delight at his reaction. Ivory couldn’t help but laugh too—what a personality that horse had.

“She likes you,” Fran called out. “She’ll only scare those she knows won’t react badly.” Ivory smiled at that.

Ivory waited by the entrance to the Seashell Grotto as Fran settled Sooky and Danger and checked them into the stables.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Fran led Ivory further into the bayside city. For almost five minutes, Ivory had walked alongside a gigantic fish market—it stretched farther than he could make out, and he spied some incredibly different fishy produce. There were, of course, the classics: stock standard fish of varying colours, squid, octopus… but then as he walked on, they started getting bigger. And bigger. Ivory had seen nature shows where he saw some truly gigantic tuna; the fish towards the end of the fish market dwarfed said tuna. In one case, he saw someone—a [Fish Butcher]?—carve what looked like a megalodon.

“This can’t be normal,” he thought. “This place must be the capital of… fishmongery.” After a few more minutes, they arrived at the Merchant’s Guild. Embarrassed, Ivory spoke up.

“Fran, how do I withdraw money here?” He wasn’t red in the face, but Fran could tell.

“Watch what I do.” Fran entered the Merchant’s Guild, with Ivory hot on her tail. There was a free line, so the action started immediately.

“Hey Fran. How’s things?” the man behind the counter asked. Of course they knew each other.

“Fine, fine. Here for the day; picking up some spending money. I’ll withdraw 40 gold.” She handed over her Bag of Holding and received a slip of paper in return. Ivory figured that was just some kind of confirmation of the transaction.

“Alright, all done. Anything else?” Ivory didn’t even see how he’d done it, but he returned her Bag of Holding to her, presumably 40 gold heavier.

“You’ll need to help this one,” she motioned to Ivory, “since he doesn’t know how to use the service.” Ivory turned a deep shade of scarlet, but supposed it was easier this way. Fran moved back and Ivory went up to the counter. The man smiled.

“Welcome to the Merchant’s Guild. Do you have an association with us?” the man asked. Ivory found the verbage perplexing, but he knew what he meant.

“I do, but I didn’t set it up. Can I withdraw some gold, please?”

“What was your name?”

“Ivory Henderson.”

“One moment, then.”

The man leafed through a large rolodex until he found a sheet with the letter ‘i’ on it.

“Where would the account have been created?”

“Calanfer.”

“Where specifically? What city?”

“Oh, the capital city. The Eternal Throne.” The man gave the sheet a poke, and muttered an ‘ah ha’.

“The account exists, but hasn’t been verified by you,” he held up a piece of metal with three stones in it. “Please state your name, and then state who created the account and verify that you are the owner of said account.”

“Ivory Henderson,” the first stone shone blue, “Mannus Lan created the account, and I confirm that I am the owner of it.” The two other stones shone blue.

“Excellent, thank you. It has now been verified. Now, would you like to withdraw or deposit?

“Withdraw please, 20 gold.” Ivory lifted his Bag of Holding off of his body and saw the very brief look of surprise on the teller’s face. He enjoyed that.

“Please sign this. It confirms the transaction.” Ivory took the paper and quill he was given and signed it with his signature. In truth, he just wrote his IHenderson; he didn’t want to try writing this world’s script in cursive.

By the time he had finished writing his signature, his Bag of Holding had been returned to him. It would be tacky to check to see if the gold was in there—he didn’t want to check when he was outside; he’d just have to trust it was in there.

“Would there be anything else that I could help you with?”

“No, but thanks a lot for bearing with me.”

“It was my pleasure. Good day to you both.”

“Nice and easy, although I’m not sure why you never bothered to actually check with Calanfer’s Merchant’s Guild before you left,” Fran said as they left the guild. Ivory turned red again.

“Well, it’s all settled now. Thanks for showing me. Where would I find the ships for transport?” Fran’s eyebrow rose.

“Not coming back to Calanfer?”

“I will be, but that’s why I’m here—to suss it out.” Fran looked at him with disbelief.

“You’ve come all this way to see how much sea travel costs. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Well, I didn’t know it would take so long to get here!”

Fran sighed. “Go back to where we started and keep following the wharf south. You’ll eventually come across the merchant and passenger ships. Oh, to be young again…”

Ivory frowned, but she had a point. If someone else had made this journey, Ivory would have thought it quite the waste of time. The two bid each other farewell, and Ivory made his way southwards down the wharf.

It occured to Ivory that he couldn’t really smell any fish, despite once again walking alongside the fish market. He’d been to fish markets before, and the smell of fish was… very fishy. He knew that that stereotypically gross fish smell came about when the fish weren’t as fresh, and that freshly caught fish had the smell, but it wasn’t as pungent. The further down he walked, the more that ever so subtle fishy aroma began to make itself known. Ivory found it rather odd—it wasn’t as if there weren’t any fish, but only now did he start to actually smell it. The answer presented itself as he spotted some piers in the distance, with docked fishing trawlers. He saw great nets full of fish being hauled up and carried ashore, and with it, came the missing smell.

“Great haul today!” shouted a nearby [Fishmonger], perhaps on his break. The man he spoke at was a towering unit of a man: probably close to 2 metres tall with arms that would make a body builder from Earth be impressed, with legs to match. He carried a net twice as large as he that was filled to the brim with fish. The net was interesting, as it was perfectly spherical, allowing the man to carry it with ease.

“Aye,” he replied. As the man entered the markets, the smell—which was potent, as he passed Ivory—disappeared. Ivory was almost relieved that it wasn’t him going mad! He decided to investigate his hunch and enter the fish markets to see for himself. As he neared, Ivory noticed the perimeter to be very well defined. As he entered the established ‘zone’ of the fish markets, the smell of fish, guts, blood and god knows what else assailed Ivory. He wretched—loudly—and stumbled backwards, thankfully exiting the confines of the fish market.

As he sat on the ground coughing between gags, he was approached by the [Fishmonger] from earlier with a great grin on his face.

“First time, eh?” he asked. “That never gets old. Are you alright?” Ivory’s coughing abated, as he realised that he couldn’t smell it anymore. He’d remember it.

“Awful!” he spluttered. Ivory’s suspicions proved true: there was some kind of anti-smell bubble over the fish market.

“Aye, it is. You need an experienced stomach or Skills to survive in there, lad. I’ve got [Adjust Smell: Marine] myself.” The man offered a hand to Ivory, which he accepted.

“Shit. Thanks. That was disgusting,” Ivory said with a shudder. The man simply roared with laughter.

“Sorry for laughing, friend! A traveller, are you? Where are you headed?” He didn’t hold it against the man for laughing, but he had again turned a bright shade of red.

“I’m looking for the merchant and passenger ships.”

“Keep heading down this way and you’ll find ‘em. Won’t find many passenger ships, what with the war, but there’s merchants aplenty.”

He was prepared for that, at least. Even if there were none, there’d surely be some kind of travelling agency or something that gave out pertinent travelling information, dates, etc. “Thanks,” he replied. “I’ll be on my way now. Won’t be making that mistake again!” The man erupted into laughter again and gave him a thumbs up.

Ivory made his way further down the wharf, and it wasn’t until another 10 minutes that he finally reached the end of that wretched fish market. There were many different ships he could see out on the water—docked and otherwise—but they were all, unsurprisingly, fishing vessels. At least, he could only assume as much. They didn’t look like personal use ships or yachts, but he knew barely anything about ships. He figured that, since there weren’t that many people in the immediate vicinity of said ships, that they weren’t trading vessels.

Eventually, the amount of people moseying around started to increase dramatically—a good sign, he thought. He looked towards the water and noticed that most crowds were centred around a curious variety of large ships. “Yep,” he thought. “Here we are.”

Each merchant ship was docked at a separate pier, and had multiple stalls lined up and down from the ship. There were nine of these ships docked, all more or less equally as popular. While Ivory wasn’t here to shop, he had a lot of time to kill and he was very interested in having a browse.

The first ship was called Archmages’ Splendour, selling wares from Wistram, the Isle of Mages. The stall that had the most room was the furthermost away, which sold magical scrolls.

“Hail, young man,” said the half-Elf.

“Hey—woah, an Elf!” Ivory exclaimed, quite loudly. He chuckled.

“I’m afraid not. I am but a half-Elf, at your service. I sense a magical aptitude from you—have you considered joining our illustrious academy, Wistram?” he politely asked.

“Oh, sorry! I’m a [Sorcerer]. I don’t think I would be welcome there, would I? I’ve been told that Wistram looks down on [Sorcerers].” Ivory had no idea why he’d said that. Dumbass!

The half-Elf just smiled. “Not at all, not at all. We have all sorts at Wistram—[Mages], [Wizards], [Sorcerers], [Apothecaries], [Spellscribes]... magic is the cornerstone of our home, you see. I am Cylus Winterspring.” Cylus bowed.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Ivory Henderson. Truth be told, I’m interested in travelling around the place first, before I settle down somewhere!” Ivory glanced down at the scrolls. “What scrolls would you recommend for a traveller?”

Cylus put finger to his lips and thought a moment. “Terandria is a dangerous place for travellers, Ivory. [Bandits], crelers and magical beasts roam outside the cities. Perhaps a scroll of [Chain Lightning]? Seldom will civilians be ambushed alone; best take the threat out in one fell swoop. Expensive, but what is the price of one’s life?”

Ivory was taken aback. Travelling has never, in the history of anything, been a safe endeavour—but this guy was giving him a perspective he hadn’t thought of.

“Oh, I don’t think I can afford that! Maybe I’ll have another look around the other stalls, and the other ships’ wares. Nice to meet you, Cylus.”

“Ivory! Wait a moment,” Ivory turned back. “It is within my power to offer you a position in Wistram—free of charge. Consider my offer, as you browse.”

Ivory’s eyes went wide. “Uh, wow! I will, thanks!” How strange. Had that half-Elf seen his Skills and spells and decided he was hot shit, and granted him a scholarship? So far, ‘too good to be true’ wasn’t something in Ivory’s vocabulary, so it was certainly a possible explanation.

“Ah well,” he thought. “I’ll look at these other Wistram stalls after I’ve seen all the others and see what happens.”

Ivory only realised after he got to the second pier how big Wistram’s merchant ship was. He had assumed some kind of level playing field, until he saw that the next pier had two boats, which were barely as big as Wistram’s boat combined.

Curiously, each of the boats’ stalls were separated—Ivory had assumed that each ‘pier’ represented a faction or continent each, but apparently not. The first boat’s stalls flew a banner that read “The Five Families”, whatever that meant. Each stall was staffed by Humans, to Ivory’s disappointment. After seeing that half-Elf—who pretty much was human, Ivory thought—he wanted to see some more fantasy representation. The stalls’ goods were pretty lacklustre to him, so he browsed only briefly.

“Finest goods from northern Izril, here!” one of the women hawked. Izril must be the continent, then. Satisfied, he moved to the end of the pier to see the next stalls. His eyes bulged open, but he was ready this time not to blurt anything out

His first thought was that they were Dragon-men, like drakonids, dragonborn, dragonkin or what have you. They certainly looked the part, except they had no wings, which was both disappointing and relieving. He made his way to the first stall which, ironically, was filled with what Ivory could only assume were rare plants and other flora (otherwise, why bother?).

“Hello, Human,” the Drake said. “Interested in Oteslia’s finest?” Was that a hint of contempt he heard? He wanted to learn more, and decided to pry a bit.

“Hi! Does Oteslia specialise in plants?” The Drake raised an eye.

“Does the Walled City of Growth specialise in plants? Yes, it does.” he said. Yep, definitely contempt.

“Sorry, I’ve never left Terandria and am awful with geography… where abouts is Oteslia?”

“Oteslia is in Izril. Have you heard of that, pray?”

“Oh, you share the place with Humans then? I just saw the Five Families stalls just before, and they’re from northern Izril.” To that, the Drake looked like he would explode.

“Share the place with Humans. I’ve other customers to attend to.” The Drake huffed and began conversing with another Human.

“Awfully rude,” Ivory thought. “Sure, he was travelling all this way, but a bit of polite conversation never hurt anyone…” He was interested in some of those plants as well, if only to get a bit more information about this world.

Over the next hour, Ivory learnt about many of the other continents and their inhabitants. Fortunately for Ivory, they were more than happy to learn Ivory about their respective birthplaces—if only to get a sale. The hot deserts of Chandrar, and their Stitch People. Three representatives of Baleros, a tropical jungle, made Ivory’s acquaintance, and they were perhaps the most interesting of all. A Centaur, exactly as he expected one to look, a Lizardperson and a Dullahan, which reminded him of the Headless Horseman. Each were wildly different in attitudes, behaviour and personality. Ivory bookmarked it as the first place he would want to visit, when he was ready to travel internationally. There was even some ships from other regions of Terandria—Humans all—hawking their wares.

The last ship was the most curious looking. It was a fraction of the size of even one of the smaller ships he had seen so far, and had but one stall, manned by an early-middle aged Japanese man.

…

“WHAT,” Ivory bellowed. He was flooded with a multitude of emotions and thoughts, causing him to lose all inhibition and sprint down the pier at the man.

The words that came from Ivory were an unintelligible mess, especially so to the poor Drathian man who had dropped his intricate and artisanal fan in fright, at the sight of a teenager flooring it towards him. In panic, he stood up and fumbled for a wand before Ivory awkwardly came to a stop in front of the stall and slammed his hands down on it. It was hard to make a dramatic entrance on an angled pier.

“You! How! Didn’t think—more than just me! Dumb, actually, I’m not special! Ahahaha! Where in Japan are you from?!” The [業者] just stared at Ivory with a healthy mix of confusion, fear and hesitancy.

“Please. Calm down. I do not know why you are shouting, or what you are talking about,” he replied, speaking the common tongue with relative fluency, as would befit a Drathian [業者].

Ivory’s face dropped, and he completely tuned out the confused man standing before him. Ivory never even considered the possibility that there could be more people from Earth here in this strange, magical world until now—and it had been dashed. A tiny part of him still thought this was some kind of dream or extended hallucination, so he never thought to think if other people had been brought here as well.

Ivory was broken out of his depressive stupor by hearing what he now knew was not Japanese being spoken by the man from the stall and who Ivory could only assume was his boss, or something. The man was… a sight to behold. He looked to be in his 70s and stood probably six and a half feet tall, with hair as white as the blinding sun; it was styled in an exceedingly strange way. Ivory thought it was not dissimilar to Heihachi’s hair from Tekken. The two seemed to have ceased their conversation; the younger man sat back down and the older man smiled warmly and addressed Ivory.

“Good afternoon, young man,” he said, and bowed so deeply he thought he’d snap in two. “I am Hidenori, master of this ship and its wares, from the Empire of Drath. Might I know with whom I am speaking?” Ivory was momentarily taken aback—the Drathians truly were like the Japanese, both in language and in look. He recalled that Drath had a city styled similar to Angkor Wat, which was Cambodian… so maybe Drath was some kind of Asian mixing pot?

“Hello, I am Ivory Henderson, pleased to meet you,” he replied, feeling the need to speak formally in turn.

“The pleasure is mine. My [Merchant] tells me you are familiar with Drath, our homeland?”

“Oh, uh, kind of! I’ve read about it, but I have never been. I would like to, though!”

The old man smiled warmly. “I am pleased to hear that you have taken an interest in my homeland—it is a wondrous place. Unfortunately, you will not find many vessels bound for Drath at this port. It is not a place many visit to sight-see, you will understand.” Ivory did not, but nodded all the same, disappointed, but honestly unsurprised. The only boats here were merchant ships, so he’d have to find some kind of travel agency. It better not be shut!

“From where do you hail, and what brought to Pheislant, Ivory?” Hidenori asked. Ivory thought that he must look the part of a tourist.

“I’m from Calanfer, but I grew up outside the city. I want to travel, so I wanted to see what my options were for international sea-travel. I leave tonight back to Calanfer, hopefully to travel more of Terandria first.”

“I see, I see. May I ask the purpose of your wish to travel? To see the sights of the world?” Ivory was touched that he was interested! It was a nice change from that asshole dragon-guy.

“I’m a [Sorcerer]—I want to see how different places and Classes of the world cast magic. Mainly for my own inspiration, but I just want to learn and see more magic, put simply!” Ivory laughed, feeling a bit silly.

“A noble endeavour, Ivory. You did not heed the call all of those who practise magic hear, and join Wistram Academy?”

“Funny you should say that—a half-Elf merchant from Wistram offered me, like, a scholarship to Wistram for free! I said I’d think about it, but I’m not sure if I should go. I’ve heard that Wistram don’t really like [Sorcerers], but he told me that wasn’t the case.”

“The wise ponder all. Wistram is dominated by [Mages], but those of your nature still thrive. You would learn much, and level swiftly. But I say this: from what you have told me, Wistram would not suit you. You wish to learn, and Wistram is a place of learning. But you wish to learn, not be taught. Stay, perhaps, for a few years—but many who attend Wistram Academy seldom leave, and become complacent.”

Ivory was taken aback; he wasn’t expecting such sagely wisdom. Despite Hidenori clearly trying to dissuade him from going, he found himself now wanting to take up the half-Elf’s offer. Stay a few years and learn the fundamentals of magic Hogwarts style, and then go on his way from there. He would probably be fine, and just rigorously practise magic in lieu of studying spellbooks.

“Yeah, it’s definitely a hard choice to make. One sec,” Ivory noticed the sun starting to set, and looked at the time in a panic. “Oh crap, I need to head back. It was nice talking to you Hidenori, and sorry for being all crazy before. I thought he was someone I knew,” Ivory looked at the [Merchant] and mouthed ‘sorry’.

“A moment before you go.” Hidenori cast an eye at a slender figure approaching them, and turned to his [Merchant] and spoke in his mother tongue before turning back to Ivory. “We are bound home at sunrise tomorrow. I am pleased to offer you passage to Drath. Will you accept?”

Ivory went bug-eyed.

“Yes! Absolutely! Wow. I’ll have to let my ride know I won’t be going back with her to Calanfer, though!”

Hidenori clasped his hands and gave another deep bow. “Trouble yourself not. Return to where you must, settle your affairs, and return here at sunrise.” Ivory gave two thumbs up as he left the pier, bound back to the Seashell Grotto.

“Ivory,” a voice spoke as he did a happy little hop over the boundary between the pier and the main walkway. “Greetings again. Have you considered my proposal?”

Ivory recognised the only half-Elf he had met so far—the merchant from Wistram. “Oh, hey! I’m really grateful, but I will have to pass for now. I’m going to Drath tomorrow!” he positively buzzed with excitement as he verbalised it out loud for the first time. The half-Elf, though, looked particularly disappointed, almost affronted.

“Is that so,” the half-Elf said. He continued, with a particularly strained smile. “That is a rare opportunity, I hope you enjoy your time there. Excuse me.”

Ivory looked back the distance and saw Hidenori glance from Ivory to the half-Elf, before giving him one of his extreme bows. Ivory was too full of excitement to comprehend the situation being played out before him and, with a spring in his step, made the trip back to the Seashell Grotto as the shining orange sky began to transition to a pale twilight.

Ivory saw Fran sitting at a table outside the inn and went to join her; she waved as he approached.

“Thought you’d gone rogue. Are we staying the night, or shall we get ready to leave?” she asked.

“Uh, I’m going to be staying here I think. I met a merchant from Drath who offered to take me there!”

Fran blinked quickly in succession.

“Pardon me?” Ivory smiled.

“Yep! Crazy, right? I even got asked by a Wistram merchant if I wanted to go there—free of charge! I’m obviously super charismatic,” Ivory said with a smirk. Fran just rubbed her eyes.

“Wistram gives scholarships, but Drath? I’ll have to take your word for it. I’ll stay, too, and see you off tomorrow then. I’ll savour the look on Lam’s face when I tell him of this.”

Ivory laughed at that, and Fran joined in. They entered the Seashell Grotto and got a room each for the night; both requested a [Hospitality Worker] to wake them up before sunrise.

He was exhausted from the day, but not that tired yet. He checked the time—7.53pm. Not bed time just yet. Fortunately, Ivory thought, this was a magic world. He fished around in his Bag of Holding for his sleeping draught and put one drop into the complimentary glass of water at his bedside and drank it in one go.

“Don’t fail me now, magic potion,” Ivory said to himself. He got into bed and closed his eyes, waiting for the potion to work its magic. He realised he did exactly what he told himself he wouldn’t do, so that he wouldn’t become reliant on it to sleep. “Last time,” he thought.

Before he knew it, he had drifted away into a relatively dreamless slumber. Tomorrow, Drath awaited.