When the following morning arrived, the rain was still falling heavily. The clouds, of an ash gray, filtered the sunlight allowing only a few shy rays of light to reach the ground.
The sound of the rain, like that of infinite cascades, echoed throughout Liverne while the streets had become like little artificial rivers due to the amount of water. Only a few people were outside their homes, just some passers-by running from one shelter to another to avoid the rain. Even the fishermen had decided to stay on dry land for fear that the weather might worsen.
A single figure in a dark jacket seemed to walk freely through the streets under the incessant rain. James had always liked the rain, it reminded him of home and the long walks in the forests with his mother. After spending years in the arid lands of that great void composed of sand dunes that was Bij' Asfar, even the biting cold that had been created was appreciated by the young man.
During his walk James noticed a stall that was fortunate enough to be located under the porch of a larger building and had managed to remain relatively dry. The stall seemed to sell various kinds of food and a small group of people were gathered around it, trying to buy enough to feed themselves for one or two days while waiting for the storm to end.
James decided to join the crowd; the trip to Chipton would not last more than a day, but having some extra supplies would not hurt. Moreover, the muddy ground that had formed with the rain would certainly have slowed down the journey.
"I heard they spotted another wreck offshore this morning, probably dragged by the storm," said one of the people in line to the one next to him.
"It's the third time this month… But if it's so recent we could try to reach the coast to see if any of the goods have reached the shore," replied the other man.
"You're crazy, by now the bandits will have already arrived on the scene and taken everything. I'm not going to risk a blade in my stomach just for some trinkets left behind."
"But if we could pass through the rocks, they…"
'A group of bandits could be a problem; it would be better to stay away from the coast…' James thought as he listened to the two men talking and began to think of a safer route to take. By now James had almost memorized the map of Redcia's coasts and remembered that there was another route further south and away from the coast. The journey would have taken longer but the route would have been safer.
After buying bread and water James silently headed towards the south gate of the city.
Outside the city to greet him was a small, covered wagon with two draft horses tied to it and on top of it were the three merchants he had met the night before.
(Image wagon)
Borgelm was the first to notice him while the other two were carrying some crates onto the wagon roof.
"Ah James! I see you're early; I didn't think we'd see you for another hour."
"The rain woke me up early," James replied briefly as he approached the wagon but when he passed by the horses, they began to stir and neigh forcing him to quickly move away and reach the wagon.
"Hey!!! Good you two!" Borgelm shouted as he went to pet the two animals to calm them down.
"How strange… They had been docile until now."
"It must have been my fault, animals and I don't get along," James said with a sorry face before looking irritably at the two animals who seemed agitated at his mere glance.
'Neigh as much as you want, the hatred is mutual…' thought James.
"Maybe it's better if I stay in the back of the wagon during the trip," James suggested.
"Never got along you say. I guess it must have been a chore dealing with them during your travels."
"Not exactly, I've always preferred traveling on foot," James replied. After all, who in their right mind would travel on an animal that hates you?
This caused the three merchants to turn around in surprise towards him.
"O… on foot!?" exclaimed Hir
"It takes some guts to travel in the desert without any mount…" muttered Ren as he loaded a large box onto the wagon.
"*Whistle*… From the desert all the way to Redcia on foot?! It must have been tough boy, but don't worry, next day's journey will be a breeze. You'll just have to make sure that we all get there intact."
James smiled and nodded at the merchant before sitting on the outer edge of the wagon just enough for the wagon's roof to shelter them from the rain. The other two merchants entered shortly after while Borgelm sat in front of the wagon where a small fabric shelter had been set up to protect him from the rain.
'Actually, it's not bad not having to walk for a while,' James thought as the wagon left Liverne and headed for Chipton. Just before leaving James had warned Borgelm of the change of route and he and the other merchants accepted the compromise without too much fuss.
"Si…sir James where do you come from?" Hir asked, turning through the wagon window. The young merchant was still intimidated by the traveler from the night before but felt brave enough to ask him a few questions anyway. Even if sheltered through a window.
James turned to him and smiled to ease the tension, but it didn't seem to have much effect. For some reason even being near the man caused a shiver down the boy's spine, as if he were right next to something unnatural that he couldn't put into words. Despite the boy's obvious agitation, James said nothing about it and just replied.
"I come from Heinberg, a small fishing village on the northern coasts of Albacland."
"Oh, so an inhabitant of the cold lands. And if I may ask, how did it happen that someone from the north like you arrived to and crossed the great desert and now is going in search of a city that may not even exist?" Borgelm asked, following the conversation from in front of the wagon.
James didn't immediately answer the question, just looking down nostalgically.
"A… a lot has happened back then and at some point, I got lost… but someone showed me the way and now I can go on trying to fulfill an old promise."
"A promise?" Hir asked, curious about the traveler's words.
"A promise… You see, my mother always wanted to find the city but never even found a clue as to where it might be. So just before she crossed the Gate, I promised her that I would find it in her place…"
"The Gate? What is that? Do you mean to say that your mother is dea… Auch! Why did you hit me Mr. Ren?"
Ren just shook his head at the young merchant.
"My condolences for your loss James, I know what it's like to lose your mother at a young age. My mother, may her soul rest in peace, died during the great pandemic of 402. So even if I'm still skeptical about the existence of the City of Towers, I hope you can find what you're looking for."
"Thank you Borgelm, your words are appreciated."
"There's no need to thank me young man, but if I could, I too would have a question to ask you like young Hir. Something about that white sword and its history."
"… ask away, but it will be up to me whether or not to answer," James replied knowing it was pointless trying to dissuade the old merchant who seemed to be looking at the weapon more with genuine curiosity than greed.
"It seems obvious to me that you served under one of the free cities of Bij'Asfar, may I ask under which sultan you served. I had the privilege of meeting some of them in person during my years of career. Some of the most peculiar people I have ever conversed with, although I must admit that some conversations were more pleasant than others…"
"I can imagine what you mean, some royal families of the desert do not have much sympathy even from their own subjects, let alone that they can express their disagreement. But to answer your question, I served faithfully under Sultan Shahriyar Aslan."
"Damn me, you were in service to the king of the white city, Hazar Asfan!"
"That's mean that Mr. James served under a very important king?" Hir asked.
"Important? No, he was much more than important, you could say he was the king of kings of the desert. I had the honor of meeting the man during one of my first trips into the great desert, never met a soul wiser and more benevolent, and a city so majestic with its white marbles, majestic fountains and paradisiac gardens. I was saddened to learn of his passing three years ago. May he rest in peace."
"Yes… he was a great man…" James muttered.
"But to possess a sacred fang you must have been a high-ranking soldier, why did you decide to abandon such a privileged position?" Ren asked curious about such a decision on the part of the boy. As a high-ranking officer of Hazar Asfan James would have had political privileges and wealth, and being the owner of a sacred fang, it would have guaranteed him and his future dynasty entry into the nobility of the sultan's court.
James didn't answer remaining motionless sitting on the back of the wagon watching the, then just lifting his left sleeve revealing the tattoo on his wrist showing a snake coiled around a scimitar with an eye on top of the pommel of the sword. Underneath the drawing was an inscription in a language that neither Ren nor Hir recognized, but the former immediately recognized the symbol and couldn't hold back a surprised gasp.
"That's why…" Ren muttered as James stared at him with his blue eyes like night "… This explains everything…"
"What's going on back there? What explains what?" Borgelm said from in front of the wagon and turning around to see what was happening.
"The reason why James ran away from the desert… It's because he's a daeva, a demon!" Ren exclaimed to Borgelm bringing silence among all passengers on the wagon.
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