“Messenger Key…”
“Oh, excuse me, Elder S’yei. I'm still confused since I just woke up,” the dark-haired young man radiated an unprecedented aura of serenity, his good condition and lack of wounds or aftereffects making him seem more like a divine messenger rather than a common vagabond for the first time since his arrival.
Noticing this subtle change around Martín, Chief S’yei decided not to bother him with questions and offered the young man food. An implicit rule in all present religions was firm and clear: “Do not question the divine will, just accept it.”
After dismissing the others with the excuse that he wanted to wash up, Martín undressed and inspected his entire body before washing himself with a wet cloth. He was euphoric to test his abilities and see what he was capable of.
“At last, I can learn magic. I just need to get to the capital. If I'm not mistaken, the Father’s assistant arrives today,” Martín was already planning his next steps. He didn’t need the Father to learn the basics and form his etheric soul, which lifted a significant burden from his shoulders.
Recalling what he had seen in his world, religions tended to be strict and inflexible, likely teaching useless things and making him repay their kindness. Seeing how they deceived the villages around the desert, he expected nothing good.
“This sensation is strange and revitalizing at the same time, as if each breath makes me a little stronger.” The ether that had made him faint the previous day now acted as a vital source for his growth. The pain was gone, and with each breath, a sense of freshness filled him.
The dark-haired young man, after washing, sat cross-legged and put his hands together as if praying. His mind went blank, and as if he were one with the universe, his body entered a state of absolute serenity.
“Keep flowing, Martín,” he repeated to himself as his soul seemed to transcend the world and travel among the stars. The ether his body passively absorbed began to increase, and the sensation of power within him strengthened.
“This is the etheric soul…” Within his being, he could perceive something strange, as if another self lived there, deeply asleep. He knew that the moment of awakening was far off. Alongside his etheric soul, he could vaguely perceive a strange mark radiating a faint light. Interwoven symbols twisted within it, evoking unprecedented majesty that could drive one mad at a mere glance.
“Don’t get close to that again,” he reminded himself of the latent danger he had felt for a moment.
After meditating and exploring his soul for a while, Martín’s mind was exhausted, and his body was sweating from the effort, a fact that surprised him.
“Just exploring my etheric soul left me in this state… I suppose I should get used to it gradually.” Martín was quite happy to have made such progress, feeling that this new world was full of possibilities.
From his brief investigation, he had found that his ability was related to emotions and that he could perceive them within a certain range. They appeared as dozens of lights where the color indicated the emotion itself, and the shade showed the intensity of it.
Feeling satisfied and accomplished, Martín lay down on the bed with a smile on his face and quickly fell into the realm of dreams, sleeping peacefully that night. The stress that had kept him tense all the time had disappeared for a while.
Tap, tap, tap.
In the early morning hours, someone knocked outside the house. Under the cover of darkness that engulfed the area, a tall, robust figure with a sword hanging at the waist cast an intimidating presence.
“Ahh, who is it so early?” said the disheveled dark-haired young man. Although the houses had no doors, it was an unspoken rule not to enter without permission.
“Greetings, Messenger. I am Rast, the person sent by Father Cole,” the robust man responded in a cold and solemn tone.
“I’ll be right there.” Martín got up, washed his face quickly, and changed his clothes. Since the night was darker than usual due to the absence of bright stars, he took a lamp powered by sulfur and hung it at his waist.
Martín wore long pants made of fox leather and an alpaca wool shirt. Over the shirt, he wore a thick duck feather jacket. His shoes were made from the shell of a sulfur scorpion, making them very durable.
The man standing at the door wore thick leather pants, scorpion shoes, and a leather hooded jacket. Except for the shoes, Martín had no idea what animals they were made from. The desert had an interesting variety of animals similar to those on Earth: lemon-colored foxes, sulfur scorpions, four-winged scavenger birds, giant snakes, and alpacas.
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“Greetings, Mr. Rast. What can I do for you?” Martín looked up at the man, who was over two meters tall and had a horrible scar on his face. His expression was fierce, and his hair was shaved on both sides, leaving a single strip of hair.
“Due to certain inconveniences, I am late, but the Father sent me to take you to the capital at first light.”
“Are we leaving now?” Martín asked, taken by surprise.
“The Father says that the less fuss, the better for you.”
Recalling the looks he received daily from the villagers, he agreed with the Father’s thinking.
“Alright, but I must see the village chief first.”
“No problem. Father Cole spoke in advance with Chief S’yei. They will be waiting for you at the chapel at 5 AM.”
“I’ll be there right away.” Returning to his house, Martín made his bed, washed some dishes, and swept his house. Although it was brief, it had been his home for these days.
“How quickly time passes,” he thought nostalgically. He had lived in this village for ten days. While it wasn’t very pleasant, he met kind and gentle people. The images of the always smiling S’wei and her serious father Kyle crossed his mind. Martín looked at the clock hands on the wall, indicating 4:45 AM.
A small light could be seen swaying in the distance, growing with each passing second, illuminating the path darkened by the lack of streetlights. Father Cole and Chief S’yei sat in front of the chapel, drinking tea and watching a young man approach through the darkness.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Messenger Key.”
Martín nodded slightly and sat in an empty chair in front of the duo.
“We part ways here, Mr. Key.” A small smile formed on the decrepit elder’s face. He had gotten to know the boy over the past few days, and the fear he had felt was replaced by a feeling of affection. He was just an educated and calm young man. He reminded him of his grandson, who had left long ago. S’yei slowly approached and patted Martín on the back.
“It was a pleasure having you in our village, Messenger Key. I hope you can continue your mission and may the Goddess protect you.” Father Cole closed his eyes and made a hand gesture, praying for the boy’s safety in front of him.
“Thank you, Father Cole, Elder S’yei. May God protect you too.” Martín bowed and set off toward the village outskirts. The fierce-looking, robust man watched the scene from a corner and nodded slightly in farewell to Father Cole as he followed Martín.
“May God protect me? Do you mean that God?” Father Cole responded with disdain in a low voice to the boy’s words.
The next day, Sulfur Desert.
After leaving the village, the man named Rast led the way, advancing without hesitation and only stopping briefly to eat and rest. His size was so intimidating that the few people they encountered looked nervous and cautious, avoiding all eye contact. Martín sighed inwardly, as he would have acted the same way.
The heat one might expect from a desert was almost nonexistent due to the permanent darkness covering everything. The sandstorms were enormous, and the icy wind gusts felt like sharp blades, making stops necessary. They camped and covered themselves with thick sleeping bags that withstood nature’s onslaught without problems.
During these stops, Martín used his ability to watch the surroundings. Despite the man in front of him looking strong and ruthless, being cautious was never a bad idea. From the little they had talked, it would take them five days to reach the capital, the fortress city called “Sulfur,” located at the desert’s southern end, protecting the entrance from possible invaders.
“This man is so calm and terrifying…” Martín’s eyes subtly scanned the enormous man. He seemed human at first glance, and his colors were mostly dull, showing little change in shade.
“Messenger, what task do you have to accomplish?” Rast asked, looking intently at Martín in a serious tone, trying to find out more about him.
“At the moment, I need to go to the capital and meet someone,” Martín replied without hesitation. He had prepared answers for such situations in advance.
“Is there another follower of God?”
“Yes, he is my senior.”
“I see…” The fierce-looking robust man stopped questioning and began preparing his meal.
“If he knows someone is waiting for me, he’s less likely to try anything strange.” Martín had seen this strategy on police TV shows. Faced with uncertainty, people tended not to act rashly.
After another day of travel, a massive storm loomed on the horizon, with giant clouds majestically rising over the arid landscape. Fortunately, they had reached a village called “Silver Rock,” named due to the silver mines in the area, or so the most popular theory in the village went.
Rast and Martín stayed in individual rooms at the village inn. During such a large storm, it was easy to get lost and for accidents to occur, so they waited for the storm to pass. The clock showed 8 PM, giving the pair of
men a couple of free hours.
Martín left his room and walked through the village, seeing beastmen, elves, and humans everywhere. Unlike Soledad Village, this one had a greater diversity of races.
“The closer to the border, the greater the racial diversity…” Martín remembered his previous world and how many foreigners could be found in border towns. It seemed a normal trend in any world.
“Hey, young man, looking for something?” A long-eared, dark-skinned merchant exhibited a weapons stall gleaming under the lanterns’ light. At first glance, they seemed to be made of silver or some similar mineral.
“No,” Martín replied curtly. At that moment, he had little money, relying on a few green coins. He knew a scorpion sandwich cost between two to three coins. Additionally, he saw dark colors in the man, likely trying to deceive the unwary.
“Then move on, don’t block the view,” the dark-skinned elf replied, annoyed.
Martín turned and continued looking at the merchants’ wares. Thanks to his ability, it was easy to identify people’s intentions, making it difficult to fall for a scam. However, he lacked the confidence to haggle and get something useful. This was because his ability had a fatal flaw. He could see people’s emotions and understand what they were saying, but it didn’t allow him to speak the language fluently. It only translated in one direction.
“I’ll have to learn to speak this damn language…” the dark-haired young man lamented inwardly as he looked sadly at the weapons on display.