Venti looked at the island one last time before recalling the infamous word that still haunted his mind:
Venti: "The Abyss."
When the wagon finally reached the outskirts of Rillmont, the orange light of dusk gave the ramparts an almost golden hue.
From a distance, the town seemed peaceful, but as they approached the great gate, Venti noticed something unusual.
A queue had formed in front of the large stone gate, filled with all sorts of people:
- Travelers.
- Merchants.
- Families.
Looking ahead, Venti noticed that each person passing by the gate presented a small rectangular document, sealed with a red stamp, before being allowed to enter.
Venti leaned slightly out of the wagon, intrigued, and turned his head toward Arlan's.
Venti: "Arlan's... what are they doing here?"
Arlan's: "Oh, this?"
The father replied, gently tugging on the reins to move forward in the line.
Arlan's: "These are the identity documents."
"Rillmont is a large port city, so they have to make sure no troublemakers get through the gates."
Venti frowned.
Venti: "Is this for control?"
Arlan's: "Yes, everyone has to prove their identity."
Arlan's continued.
Arlan's: "Name, age, region of origin... all that."
A silence fell.
But Venti had a problem with these documents.
Then he asked, his voice a little hesitant:
Venti: "And... what if someone doesn't have them?"
Arlan's turned his head toward him, looking first surprised, then a little worried.
He knew Venti had completely lost his memory, but he hadn't thought it would be to the point of having nothing on him.
Except for a bow he could make appear and disappear at will, even though he still didn't know how it worked.
Arlan's: "You have it on you, don't you?"
"You have these documents."
"Tell me?"
Venti remained motionless.
He began searching every nook and cranny of his clothes where something could be hidden:
- He searched his pockets.
- The folds of his cloak.
- Under his hat.
- The sleeves of his shirt.
- The pockets of his green shorts.
- And even under his coat.
Nothing.
Not a piece of paper, not a seal, not even a token.
His fingers began to tremble slightly as he realized the situation he was in.
Venti: "I... I have nothing."
"Absolutely nothing."
Leona blinked, perplexed.
Arlan's looked Venti in the eyes with a puzzled expression.
Arlan's: "What do you mean, nothing?"
"Not even a small card?"
Venti shook his head.
Venti: "I woke up." "This morning in the middle of a meadow."
"I don't know where I came from... or why I was here."
"I have no recollection of ever being given any documents."
"The only thing I remember is my first name."
Arlan's paled slightly.
Arlan's: "Seriously... you mean you wake up with no clear memory and no identification?"
Venti looked down.
Venti: "I... yes."
Arlan's sighed deeply, ran a hand over his forehead, and then tried to compose himself.
Arlan's: "Look, this isn't ideal."
"Without any documents, the guards will suspect you of being a vagrant, or even worse."
"And with the recent threats from the Abyss, they're really not messing around with security anymore."
Venti felt his heart sink.
He didn't know exactly what kind of danger the abyss might pose when faced with it because he'd never experienced it.
But he didn't want to be connected to it in any way.
Venti: "So… I can't go in?"
Arlan's: "Calm down. I didn't say that."
"I'll speak for you."
"We'll say you're an injured or amnesiac traveler I picked up along the way."
"Sometimes that can work, but…"
He stared at the slowly moving line, his gaze heavy.
Arlan's: "It'll be at the guards' discretion."
"And they're tough."
Venti took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising anxiety within him.
FFFFFFFFFfffffffffffffffffff
Just as Venti was starting to stress about the problem before him, the wind blew.
Venti: "Huh?"
The wind began to swirl around him, cooling his face with a gentle breeze.
Venti's mental state shifted immediately. His initial stress had subsided, and he was now calmer.
The city seemed so close… but the impossibility of entering it now loomed like an invisible wall.
Leona placed her small hand on his arm.
Leona: "Don't worry, Venti."
"Papa will convince them."
"Besides… you saved us."
"They'll see you're kind."
He offered him a small, somewhat forced, but sincere smile.
Arlan's nodded, resolute.
Arlan's: "When it's our turn, let me speak."
"Don't say anything that could get you into trouble, and above all, stay calm."
Arlan's uttered the last part of the sentence, unaware that Venti had already regained his composure a few seconds earlier.
The cart moved forward a few more meters.
The door drew closer, as did the guards waiting for identification papers.
The tension in the air became palpable.
Venti lightly clasped his hands in his lap, a gentle breeze swirling around him as if to soothe his anxiety.
Venti: "I just hope,"
He murmured, more to himself than to the others.
Venti: "That they won't ask too many questions."
The cart finally came to a stop in front of the two guards.
One of them, a stocky man with a short beard, stepped forward with a piercing gaze.
Guard #1: "Identity papers, please."
Arlan's nodded, took out his own paper and Leona's.
They were two blank sheets of paper with names, dates, and a signature at the bottom, proving their authenticity.
The guard examined them briefly, then turned his gaze to Venti.
He paused, his brows furrowing.
Guard #1: "And him?"
Arlan's took a discreet breath before answering.
Arlan's: "He's... a traveler I met on the road."
"We crossed paths with him when we were being attacked by bandits, but he helped us."
The guard turned his attention back to Venti, his gaze drifting over his attire.
The first question that crossed his mind was, how could a boy who looked like a young man have dealt with a problem involving bandits known to be extremely dangerous?
Then his eyes began to scrutinize his clothing:
- The carefully embroidered green cape.
- The flower on his hat.
- The slim boots.
- The light green shorts.
- A strange, shiny stone hanging from his hip.
- His white tights inlaid with gold checks.
- The black bow tie around his neck.
- His hair. Dye it dark blue with a light green trim, and style it in two braids.
- Etc.
The outfit was anything but local.
Guard #1: "A traveler?"
The guard repeated skeptically.
Guard #1: "With clothes like that?"
"He looks like a bard's mascot from a festival."
He narrowed his eyes.
Guard #1: "That's strange."
"Where are you from, boy?"
Venti opened his mouth… but Arlan's placed a hand on his arm to interrupt him.
Arlan's: "He doesn't remember."
"He lost his memory recently."
"He was already like this when we met her."
The other, younger guard approached, observing Venti cautiously.
Guard #2: "No documents… no clear explanations."
"You understand that this is highly suspicious, don't you?"
Arlan's and Venti nodded calmly.
Arlan's: "I understand."
"But he helped me save my daughter earlier."
"Without him, we might be dead. I can assure you he poses no threat."
The bearded guard crossed his arms, unconvinced.
Guard #1: "Appearances can be deceiving."
"The Abyss is creeping closer and closer to the capital."
"We can't let just anyone in, even someone who seems… let's say, harmless."
He gave Venti another look, this time colder.
Guard #1: "Hey, you."
"Can you talk?"
Venti nodded gently.
Venti: "Yes… sir."
Guard #1: "Very well, then I'll keep it simple."
"Why don't you have any documents?"
Venti felt his stomach clench.
Venti: "I… I woke up alone this morning, in a plain."
"I don't remember having such a document, nor where I came from, nor what I was doing here."
The two guards exchanged a heavy look.
Guard #2: "Amnesia, huh?"
said the young guard suspiciously.
Guard #1: "That's a bit of a flimsy excuse."
Venti: "It's not an excuse."
Venti replied softly.
The bearded guard sighed, then tapped his sword nervously.
Guard #1: "Under other circumstances, you would have been sent straight to quarantine."
"Amnesiacs, vagrants, undocumented immigrants... we don't mess around with that anymore."
He fixed Arlan's with a stern expression.
Guard #1: "Are you sure you want to protect this individual?"
"If he causes any trouble, you'll be held responsible."
Arlan straightened his back.
Arlan: "Yes."
"I take responsibility."
Leona, who had been watching the scene without understanding everything, clung to her father's sleeve.
Leona: "Dad... Venti is kind... he saved us."
The guards looked at her, then back at Venti.
The bearded guard finally let out a long sigh.
Guard #1: "Good... very well."
"We'll let him in, under certain conditions."
"He must report to the administrative office tomorrow morning to obtain a temporary document."
"And if he commits the slightest irregularity..."
His eyes locked with hers.
Guard #1: "He will be expelled from the city."
"Or worse, depending on the offense."
Venti swallowed hard.
Venti: "I understand."
"Thank you."
The bearded guard took a step back.
Guard #1: "Then go ahead."
"Go through."
The heavy gate of Rillmont opened slowly before them.
Arlan's breathed a sigh of relief. and moved the cart forward.
Venti: "Yes."
"That was... tense."
Venti murmured.
Arlan's gave a slightly strained smile.
Arlan's: "And this is just the beginning."
About ten seconds later:
Finally passing through the large gate, the wagon entered Rillmont's main thoroughfare.
The change was immediate:
- The sound of the sea outside gave way to a mixture of human voices, the clatter of hooves, and the calls of merchants.
Venti sat up slightly in his seat to get a better look.
His eyes began to scan all the shapes around him, and his ears began to hear all the sounds that circulated.
The streets were alive, wide, and paved with light-colored stones, worn smooth by the constant passage of travelers.
Wooden signs swung above the shopfronts, painted in various colors:
- A quill and parchment for a scribe.
- A hammer crossed with an anvil for a blacksmith.
- A shield adorned with a trefoil for an equipment merchant.
All around them, locals walked, chatted, laughed… all dressed in fabrics familiar to Venti:
- Tunics in soft colors.
- High boots.
- Light capes.
He felt a brief pang in his heart.
A feeling of nostalgia, though he couldn't understand its origin.
Arlan's: "Impressive, isn't it?"
Arlan's called out, guiding the reins through the crowd.
Venti: "Yes…"
Venti murmured.
Venti: "It's… very lively."
He turned his head this way and that, fascinated by each stall of colorful fruit, each pottery workshop, each bakery from which wafted a warm, sweet aroma that tickled his nose.
In the streets, children ran with a ball or a toy horse in hand, and musicians played a cheerful tune on a street corner.
And Venti noticed a little further on, some adventurers in light armor chatting near a fountain:
- A man wearing leather hunting clothes and carrying a spear.
- A young boy carrying an enormous bag.
- And a young woman dressed like a witch, wearing a black outfit and an enormous hat.
Suddenly, something caught his eye further away, in the center of town.
Venti: "What is that building?"
he asked, squinting.
A castle rose in the direction he was looking, immense, with elegant architecture.
Its finely carved white towers reflected the orange glow of the setting sun.
The Rillmont banner fluttered in the wind, a cerulean blue design depicting a stylized wave.
Arlan's: "The royal castle."
Arlan's explained. The governor resides here, as well as the military leaders.
Arlan's: "It's a heavily guarded place... but magnificent to behold, isn't it?"
Venti: "Magnificent, yes."
Venti replied, a little lost in thought.
They continued walking, and another building then caught Arlan's attention.
He pointed to a large stone structure, adorned with colorful banners.
Arlan's: "And this is the Adventurers' Guild."
"You see, right where you wanted to register."
Venti watched him more intently.
The building looked strangely like a tavern:
- Imposing facade.
- Large wooden doors.
- Engraved symbols representing an eight-pointed star.
- Adventurers came and went, laden with equipment, bags, sometimes maps or small sealed boxes.
He felt a surge of excitement in his chest.
Venti: "Tomorrow."
"I'll come here."
"I'll become stronger."
"I'll become..."
In reality, the building was open, but Venti preferred to go the next morning, firstly because he needed documents to prove his identity in order to register, and secondly because he had noticed that Leona was tired.
Venti: "The documents!"
But his thoughts suddenly became muddled, replaced by a nagging reminder of something else he had to do the next day.
Venti: "Oh… the administration office."
He muttered to himself.
Arlan's heard him.
Arlan's: "Ah yes, don't forget."
"Tomorrow morning, first thing, you need to pick up your temporary document."
"No paperwork, no guild registration."
"The rules are strict here."
Venti nodded, a little thoughtful.
The cart continued on for a few more minutes through the bustling streets.
The crowd thinned out as it moved away from the center.
The buildings became more elegant, less ornate, with landscaped gardens and lanterns hanging from the railings.
The horse pulling the cart continued walking for a few more minutes.
Finally, Arlan's gently tugged on the reins to ask it to stop.
Arlan's: "We're here."
The cart stopped in front of a large, light-colored stone building with a carved wooden roof.
An intricately crafted sign depicted a golden key and a soft pillow:
- Silver Fish Inn
The warm scent of wood wafted from the half-open windows, mingling with the soft glow of oil lamps.
From outside, the aroma of soup wafted through the air.
Leona skipped up and down.
Leona: "Are we going to sleep here?"
"Papa, I love this place!"
Arlan's: "Yes, sweetie."
Arlan's replied with a smile.
Arlan's: "And Venti can rest too."
"He's certainly earned a bed."
Venti climbed down from the wagon, his eyes fixed on the inn, a mixture of curiosity and weariness in his gaze.
Venti: "It's... magnificent," he breathed.
Arlan's: "Come on, let's go."
Arlan's said, patting him on the shoulder.
Arlan's: "We'll get a room."
"You need your strength for tomorrow."
Together, they climbed the steps leading inside, while the town of Rillmont murmured softly behind them, bathed in the last rays of twilight.
The day after :
The next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the inn's shutters.
FFFFFFFFffffffffff
A cool, almost familiar breeze caressed Venti's hair as they stepped out into the still-quiet streets of Rillmont.
Leona skipped along, full of energy despite the early hour, while Arlan walked with a calm but determined stride.
Arlan's: "The administrative office opens early."
he explained.
Arlan's: "It's best to go before the line becomes endless."
They crossed a small square where vendors were setting up their stalls.
The aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with the salty scent of the sea.
Venti observed every detail with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Today, he had to prove his existence in this world.
After a few minutes' walk, they arrived at a large rectangular building, constructed of white stone. A gilded metal sign read:
RILLMONT ADMINISTRATIVE OFFICE – CITIZENS AND TRAVELERS REGISTER.
Chapter 7: Administrative document
The End