It was the day of departure, and Hannah and I were already prepared for another incursion far from civilization.
Our other companions parted from us to tend to their own affairs. Helena and Tonks returned to the [Fief]: the former to continue cultivating her negative energy, and the latter because, although she wished to join the adventure, her pregnancy made it prudent for her to take shelter. She was a first-time mother and was far more nervous and worried than necessary, though she also hoped we would soon find those "cities" so she could explore a bit more in safer areas.
For her part, Elise set out on her own path, her own adventure. As we had agreed, she was going to take the risk. Although I would have liked her to accompany me, we both understood that this was her moment to test solitude. Regardless, her real body remained in the Fiefdom, so she wasn't truly away from me. I would keep track of her situation through [Message], just in case.
We said our goodbyes to the natives, who were surely relieved to see us go, though some seemed to sincerely appreciate Hannah's help. With that, we set off.
We only had a general direction to follow, and we knew the journey would be long. We could have flown—on a broom or by any other means—but we decided to go on foot. It was good training, as well as a unique opportunity to explore the flora and fauna of a past era. Hannah was the most enthusiastic about this; she even asked me for a self-writing quill to conduct a field study. If all went well, it could become a project that would make her notable in the magical world of herbology in the near future.
...
The summary of the adventure? We traveled for quite some time before reaching our destination.
We encountered two more villages before reaching the first "great city." They weren't so far apart as to lack contact, but the difficulty of traversing the jungle made every trip long and dangerous.
During those days and nights with Hannah, I noticed something wasn't quite right... though not exactly wrong either. I couldn't explain it: the way she looked at me, or her attitude by my side. Something was bothering her, but I couldn't identify it. Since there was no evident problem, I decided not to press. I was fairly certain Tonks had something to do with it, as the change began after they spoke... and I wasn't going to pick a fight with Tonks.
Anyway, back to our destination.
We finally arrived at the great ancient city, though not without some surprise and doubt. It was large—not by modern standards, of course—but for the era we were in, it was truly admirable.
In the poorer areas, the houses were made of plant fibers or wood. However, the most notable features were the stone constructions: solid houses, paved roads, and massive structures like temples, barracks, and a main market. They were imposing, but only when contrasted with the single-story dwellings surrounding them.
The stone architecture didn't seem native to the region. It shared similarities with Aztec architecture and other cultures and, in a way, reminded me of the structures of Castelobruxo. It was after confirming the presence of other wizards that I could attribute this architectural development to the use of magic.
We arrived on a clear day, amazed by the difference between the small villages we had seen before and the city that now rose before us.
We tried to integrate, to blend in with the crowd, but it was obvious we were different. I could have changed my appearance, but I chose not to. In a way, Hannah, with her sun-bronzed skin, fit into that environment better than I did.
Conflicts arose, of course they did. Especially when the city's warriors appeared—much better equipped than anyone we had seen so far, with physiques that showed good nutrition and training.
I didn't need to use magic to defeat them. My physical strength and combat ability were enough to face several at once. I needed some exercise... and I admit I might have been showing off a bit in front of Hannah.
Defeating ten of their warriors was more than eye-catching. I could see the people watching us from their homes in silence.
We were so conspicuous that the leaders—or at least those we assumed were, due to their extravagant ornaments—came to see what was happening, escorted by even more soldiers.
My striking appearance must have been shocking, perhaps even intimidating, especially considering I was a child who had taken down ten grown men. Perhaps they considered me a demon, or some kind of magical creature in human form.
More soldiers lunged at me, but their fate was not much different... until a young man appeared, possibly a follower of the leader. He didn't look strong, and his attire was not that of a warrior.
He was a wizard.
I didn't even have to intervene. While I continued facing the warriors armed with clubs, spears, arrows, and darts, the young man tried to attack me by surprise using magic, but it was... deficient. He had started performing a sort of dance for his incantation, and noticing it, Hannah—not wanting me to be attacked from behind—pulled out her wand and intervened.
—"Flipendo"—"Tarantallegra"
Two simple, consecutive spells, causing little harm. We had both agreed not to cause unnecessary trouble, and they were more than enough to defeat the young warlock.
The demonstration of magic was enough for the battle to end abruptly. Silence fell over the area as everyone stared at us.
Now they knew: we were sorcerers.
The situation was awkward.
If there was something deeply rooted in the collective imagination of this era, it was the idea that wizards were superior beings. Rare, feared, and powerful. Perhaps no more physically resilient than any human, but no one could truly defend themselves against their hexes, especially dark magic.
It wasn't that they didn't want to fight, but that no one wanted to take the risk. Still, although the warriors watched us with evident fear, they remained ready to return to the fray if given the order.
The leader and the young wizard—who was still under the effects of Hannah's spell, moving erratically—were trapped in an internal conflict on how to proceed. That young man was not a full-fledged wizard but rather an apprentice: the equivalent of a Hogwarts student. However, he was a relative of the leader, and although he hadn't "graduated," he enjoyed numerous privileges simply because of his magical status.
The possibility of calling another wizard was on the table. A real one. An extreme resource. It had become clear that Hannah and I, despite our apparent young age, were much more powerful mages than they could face... and there were two of us.
Luckily, the situation didn't escalate. That wizard was not summoned, as Hannah and I ended the conflict and tried to make it clear we weren't aggressive.
Communication was difficult, but by learning some of the local dialects, I managed to say a few understandable words, ask for translations, and rely on mimicry and magic to convey our intentions.
I must admit it went quite well, though it was clear they didn't fully trust us at first.
Shamans and wizards were deeply respected... and feared. In fact, they regretted having faced us without killing us immediately. There was a belief—not entirely wrong—that provoking a wizard could end in a terrible curse. Therefore, for a moment, the idea of eliminating us as soon as possible had surfaced as a way to avoid future trouble.
What worked in our favor was that we showed no resentment. That, along with my auras and our explicit desire to settle in the city.
Every wizard was an invaluable resource, and we showed ourselves to be generous and humble, which was uncommon. There were already other wizards in the city—some just passing through—one in particular who answered for the city, plus several apprentices. Even so, mobilizing a wizard to intervene in a conflict was costly and risky. Provoking their discontent was something even the leader wouldn't permit himself.
The indigenous sovereigns did not like being so much at the mercy of wizards, but it was a necessary evil. The cities depended on them for their development and protection. Hence cases like the young apprentice: treated almost like a noble, close to the throne, for being family to the chief and a future wizard who could be trusted more than an unknown external sorcerer.
Finally, our first encounter ended with an invitation to dinner. The chieftain received us in his stone palace, located in the center of the city.
It was a tense but productive dinner. The chieftain invited not only us but also the local wizard: an old man with a somber aura and a distant attitude, clearly someone with few friends. He had come only at the plea of the chief and his apprentice, as backup in case the situation turned sour and it became necessary to take us down.
We tried the local "delicacies," and I shared some of ours. Surprised looks were inevitable when they tasted the intense and delicate flavors characteristic of a future kitchen.
Then came the negotiations.
The local wizard didn't take his eyes off us, though his intentions were far from pure. From his aura, I knew immediately that he practiced dark arts, though in this era the division was blurred: every respectable wizard knew something of black magic.
He seemed especially interested in us, both for the magic we had shown and for my apparent "special lineage." He watched me like study material, almost like an ingredient for his rituals. However, he didn't dare try anything.
Schools didn't exist here. Each wizard was trained by another. That Hannah and I showed such feats at our age inevitably implied the existence of an extremely powerful master behind us. And any wizard with half a brain knew that attacking the apprentices of another powerful sorcerer without consideration was a guaranteed death sentence.
After eating almost symbolically and waiting a short time, the old man withdrew, as if none of it mattered to him. His departure made the leader nervous, as he suddenly felt unprotected, but he couldn't offend the wizard, so he merely dismissed him with a forced smile.
Luckily for him, he was able to relax upon seeing that we were calm and friendly.
The talk continued, and we soon made our desire to settle in the city clear. That filled the chief with both excitement and nervousness. We wouldn't be the first mages to do so... but we were quite young and capable.
As I said, every wizard was an invaluable asset, and our skills proved it. The chief began to scheme how to ensure we stayed permanently. He knew that young wizards were much easier to win over—and manipulate—than cunning old sorcerers like the previous one.
Without hesitation, he accepted our stay, despite the risk. He even offered us lodging in his own palace.
Of course, all of this is a general summary of what we managed to convey to each other. Communication was still deficient, but I hoped to learn enough living there. At least, the language of a large city would be better known than that of small tribes.