“It fits fine, but why is it so itchy?” Terra asked while making an unsuccessful attempt to scratch her back.

“It's ramswool,” Nalya said. “And it's a fine dress.”

“Can’t I wear the purple one?” Terra asked, pointing toward the other dress on the table. “That one didn’t itch.”

“That one costs half as much as a Swift,” she said. “Besides, it’s too elegant by far for a visit to the Seer’s tower. Perhaps if we were going to a ball.”

“I still don’t understand why I need to wear a disguise,” she said.

Nalya sighed. “The Seer of the Blue Sight is considered one of the most important assets of the Pactlands. He is a cultural and historical icon.” She sighed. “He also suffers from madness. A stray word to the wrong person can change the course of people’s very lives, so we cannot afford to take any conversation with him lightly. Plus, I believe if it’s discovered too quickly who and what you are, it will be you kept in that tower, not him.”

“Wait,” Terra said. “That’s a possibility? You never told me that was a possibility.”

“I am doing everything I can to ensure it is not a possibility. The point is we need to make his minders believe you are a person of little importance, hence why we are presenting you as a trusted servant of my House.” She motioned to the purple dress. “And servants do not wear dresses like that. The dye alone is worth a small fortune.”

“Servants don’t have hair this shade of red, either,” Terra argued.

“Nobody has hair that shade of red, Terra,” Ryan added.

“Enough from the peanut gallery,” Cale said. “We need answers, and you want them just as much as we do. Just wear the dress for an hour or two, don’t address your hair unless they ask about it.”

“Right,” Nalya said. She looked to Terra. “I’ll answer on your behalf unless they specifically want you to respond. In which case, you’ll say it was dyed using ink from Bloodcrawlers.”

“That’s a scary name.”

“It’s a small land crab found in the Sandsea,” Bayne added. “Unless yer bleedin’ all over yourself, they’re harmless. They’ve been known to lay eggs in open wounds. Not a pretty sight when they hatch.”

Terra fought off a shudder. “Look, between this and those… visions, I’m just really nervous, okay? I’m a horrible liar, I never got away with it as a kid.”

“It’ll be fine,” she said. “Do you remember what to say if asked?”

Terra sighed. “I’m from one of the Drops of Shavi,” she said. “The southernmost island. I came to Rasza in search of a boyfriend–”

“Husband. You came in search of a husband.”

“Why can’t I go to Rasza in search of a career? Or like… I dunno, something more empowering?”

“I don’t think people in the Pactlands are very well versed in the talking points of female empowerment, Terra,” Ryan said. “I think you should just listen to Nalya. You want them asking less questions, not more.”

“Fine,” she said. “I found work with Nalya five years ago, and I’ve been one of her most trusted servants since.”

“And if they pry further?” Nalya asked.

“I'll let you pull rank,” she said.

“Say again?” Nalya asked.

“I’ll… defer to you,” she said.

“And no turns of phrase,” Nalya said, pointing a finger. “An ill-placed idiom from your world may confuse them, or set them on edge. Be calm, polite and disinterested. Remember, you are my servant, not a girl from Canada.”

“Fine,” she said. “Can we just get this over with?”

Nalya looked out the window. “Dawn has passed. We’ll leave shortly.” She looked over to Bayne. “We’ll meet back here by noon,” she said. “You should take them to the Duke’s menagerie for the morning. It would do to have them learn more about the world.”

“I still think that guy’s a dick,” Cale added.

Nalya looked to him. “You made your position clear last night, Constable. Still, he is a Duke, and despite the fact that he is, as you say, a dick, he can make our task in Halen incredibly difficult with but a word.”

Ryan chuckled.

“What’s funny?” Nalya asked.

Ryan suddenly went red. “Uhh, nothing. Sorry.”

“No,” Nalya said. “I want to know what you find to be funny.”

“It’s just… well, I’ve never heard you use that word before.”

“Which word? Dick?”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah. That one. I just didn’t think you knew what it meant.”

“Ryan, don’t,” Terra warned.

“I assume it meant a foolish person,” she said, looking between Ryan and Terra.

“Well, yeah. Sort of. But also not exactly.” He then explained.

It was Nalya’s turn to go bright red.

----------------------------------------

The Seer’s Tower was a much larger building than Terra had initially thought after seeing it from a distance. The tower itself was only one part of a larger compound, made of the same marble aesthetic she’d come to recognize in Arronay. It was the centrepiece of a large compound surrounded by twenty-foot-tall marble walls, and was accompanied by two smaller towers at either side. The walls were carved with a number of artistic reliefs. Nalya pointed them out to her as they approached the gate.

The reliefs, she said, told the tale of the Seer of the Green Sight in his travels after the Signing of the Pact. Terra was surprised to know that the formation of the Pact and the Eventine Wars were only the beginning of his story. That part of his time in the Pactlands took only four years, and he was rumoured to have travelled all across the Pactland for decades afterward, helping people along his ways.

Mair’s legacy was one of kindness. It was one of love and friendship, of support for those in need, and the prevention of tragedy.

It was also one of eccentricities. As the legends went, Mair was a notorious trickster. He often used false names, playing pranks and inventing a number of games well-known in the Pactlands. The truth was, Terra knew very little of her ancestor other than that he’d served in the war, and was said to have been lost at sea.

The gate was remarkably easy to get past. Nalya merely approached the guard and identified herself, asking to see her uncle. The guard was largely disinterested at first, until he realized she was a Countess. At that point, his tune changed. He let his gaze linger on Terra for a moment, but ultimately did not challenge her entry, and let them past.

“He is in the main tower,” Nalya said.

“I guess there’s no elevator, is there?” Terra asked. The tower was tall and intimidating.

Nalya looked back. “Elevator?”

She shook her head. “I’ll explain later.”

Two more guards stood at the entrance to the main tower, and stopped Nalya before she was allowed entry. She showed them her mark of nobility, then they immediately seemed interested in Terra.

One reached out to touch her hair. Terra jerked away instinctively.

“I will thank you not to lay your hands upon my servant, guardsman,” Nalya said. She frowned at the guard.

“What’s with her hair?” the guard asked. “It’s a queer colour. Never seen the like.”

“It’s the new fashion in Rasza,” Nalya explained. “Unmarried women dye their hair with bloodcrawler ink to show they are available to be courted.”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “I’ve naught heard of this custom,” he said.

“I promise you, guardsman. My servant's hair is no threat to my uncle.”

The guard hesitated for a moment, then nodded to the other. “You may pass. Your uncle is in the high study.”

Without another word, Nalya stepped past the threshold of the tower entrance while Terra followed. The interior of the tower was lavish, with a deep red carpet and a number of tapestries hanging from the walls. The tapestries were stylish, and Terra recognized the three triangles which signified the mark of Halen on the wall. The three others were of completely different design and colour.

“The marks of Shavi, Vector and Rasza,” Nalya explained as soon as they were out of earshot of the guards. “The Seer’s Tower is not considered to be part of the territory of Halen.”

“Sort of like an embassy?” Terra asked.

Nalya nodded. “Of a fashion,” she said. “At the Signing of the Pact, it was decided that each nation should oversee a structure of importance to the Pact. For Halen, it is this Tower. The Seer of the Blue Sight is considered to be an important asset belonging to all the Pactlands.”

“And the others?”

“In Shavi, it is the Deyish Academies,” she explained. She turned back to Terra. “The meeting chambers of the High Magus Council are also at the Academies. Rasza oversees the Vault of Memory, where many artifacts of historical importance are kept.”

“What about Vector?”

“Vector defends the Black Stone,” she explained. “It fell from the sky before the Eventine Wars. Killed many when it came, and spread the wasting curse amongst those who came near it.”

“It cursed people?”

Nalya nodded. “At first people worshipped it, assumed it was a reminder from the gods that they were not all dead. But if any god still lived, they would never have cursed us so. Over time, we learned it was a herald of the Void. An artifact sent by them to infect our realm. Even Earth Mages could not affect the Black Stone, and those who tried soon lost their hair, nails and teeth before dying in extreme agony. Eventually, it was buried, and the city of Nostra was developed overtop of its resting place to defend it from further incursions.”

“That sounds like a meteorite,” she said.

Nalya paused as the climbed the stairs. “A what?”

“It’s what we call rocks that fall from space,” she said. “Space rocks. You ever see a falling star?”

“I have. Explosions in the night sky.”

Terra nodded. “Those are meteors. Every so often, one would hit the ground and cause a big crater. We called those ones meteorites. Some of them would be radioactive, which would cause people who got near it to lose their hair and nails. They’d get sick. Some would die. Usually painfully.”

Nalya turned her attention back to the stairs. “Is that so?” she asked.

Terra got the impression that the explanation bothered her. She supposed she understood why. There were no doubt a number of superstitions present in the Pactlands that could be explained by the sort of scientific advancement they’d experienced on Earth. Nonetheless, Terra kept her silence as they walked the rest of the way up the stairs.

Finally, after climbing enough stairs to make Terra’s legs sore, they arrived at a marble platform in front of a large doorway.

“This is it,” Nalya said. She walked toward the entrance and opened the door.

Terra expected that a place called the high study might look like a medieval office library, with walls of bookshelves and various parchments on top of a series of desks and lecterns. She did not expect a naked man covered in paint to be marking the walls with haphazardly-placed symbols and poorly-made drawings in a room completely devoid of furniture.

A second man was in the room, and turned his attention to the two of them as they entered.

“Countess Nalya?” the man asked.

“Hello, Gant,” Nalya replied. “It is good to see you.” She paused as she looked to the naked man.

“It is good to see you as well, my Lady,” he said. Gant gestured to the man on the floor. “Master Mika, your niece has come. You see? She is here to see you. Will you greet her?”

The naked man focused single-mindedly on his painting, and did not even look up.

Nalya walked up to Gant and stood next to him, looking down at the man. “He is worse than before, then?”

Gant shook his head. “Yes, his madness has had a hold of him for nearly a week now. He awoke in the night several days ago, wailing. He has spoken nothing but mad ramblings since, singing and humming strange songs. I fear we may not see him lucid again, my Lady.”

“What day was it that he woke?”

“The morning of the eighteenth day of Septra,” Gant replied.

Nalya looked over to Terra and gave her a grave look. “The morning Ladysmith arrived.”

Gant looked to Nalya. “My Lady?”

“Terra, this is Gant. Gant is a longtime servant of the Sephalon family. He has been my uncle’s minder since long before his status as a Seer was known. He can be trusted.”

Terra nodded to the man. “Hello.”

Nalya looked to Gant. “This is Terra. Gant, Terra is… Terra is a descendant of Wendell Mair.”

Gant looked like he’d been struck with a truck. He sputtered at first, then managed to form a coherent sentence. “How could that be possible? Mair did not have any children.”

“He did,” Nalya said. “Before he ever came to know what would become the Pactlands, he took a wife and had a child,” she said. “Terra is descended from that child. And what’s more, she has inherited his Sight.”

Again, Gant look like he’s been struck. He looked to Terra wide-eyed. “Then… the Green Sight?”

Nalya nodded. “When I was here last, my uncle told me that I would find what I was searching for in the Disputed Lands. Terra comes from a place called Ladysmith that now rests along the Aegel Coast,” she explained. She looked Gant dead in the eye. “Gant, Ladysmith is from another realm. Another world. An entire town. Thousands of people not born of this world now exist in the Disputed Lands. I witnessed its very arrival.”

Gant seemed speechless. He worked his jaw for a few moments, clearly intending to find the right words to say. Instead, he looked the naked man on the floor.

“The people of the leaf,” Gant finally said.

Terra cocked her head to one side. “What did you just say?”

“He has… moments, where he tries to speak to me. His eyes are clear, but his language is… confusing. The said the people of the leaf were here, and that we must prepare for visitors. I thought it just a part of his ramblings, but perhaps he was trying to speak to me.”

He kneeled down next to the naked man and laid a gentle hand on his back. “Master Mika,” he said softly. “She is here. The one you spoke of.”

The Seer reacted disinterested at first, slapping away Gant’s hand. He glanced up in his direction, then let his gaze slide onto Nalya, then over to Terra. Suddenly, his eyes went wide.

“Blood… blood of hair, hair of blood,” he said. “You! You’re of the people under the leaf! Red hair, red leaf! It’s you!” He pointed off to the side, at a spot on the floor where he’d obviously been painting his symbols.

Terra recognized it immediately. A red maple leaf between two red fields.

It was the Canadian flag.

“Holy shit,” she said.

“Nalya? Nalya, my niece? Is that you? How is your husband?”

“It is me Uncle,” she said. “But I do not have a husband.”

“Ah, yes. Of course,” he replied. He looked over to Gant. “You see, Gant? You see? I knew she would be coming. In the blue dreams, the purple haze, all in my brain.”

Now it was Terra’s turn to act like she’d been struck. Did the crazy naked man from another world just recite lyrics from Jimi Hendrix?

“Uncle, I went to the Disputed Lands as you said I must,” Nalya said. “Did you know what it was I would see?”

“See? See? The true north that’s strong and free?”

“Nalya, he’s reciting lyrics,” Terra said. She took a closer look at the paintings he was doing. Besides the Canadian flag, he’d also drawn a series of other symbols familiar to her. Along the wall were the outlines of several house-shaped objects. It was identical to the logo of the Town of Ladysmith. At another point, she recognized what appeared to be the NASA logo, next to a crude drawing of a space shuttle. It was next to a peace symbol. On the far wall was a Nazi swastika, and a Star of David sitting opposite. She recognized the Apple logo, the golden arches of McDonalds and even the Nike swoosh.

It suddenly dawned on her. All the symbols were elements of Earth’s culture. Corporate logos, the flags of different nations, symbols of hate, peace. The symbols for male and female, the cross of Christianity, the Dharma Wheel of Buddism, the crescent and star of Islam, even the Khanda of the Sikh faith.

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“He has been painting until he collapses of exhaustion each night,” Gant said. “Seer Mika, do you understand what you are doing?”

“These,” the Seer said. He shook violently. “Sounds. Sings. Symbols. In my head. Out of my head. All around me are familiar faces and far off places. I’m going off the rails on a crazy train. To the moon, Alice!”

“You see, he’s not making sense,” Gant said. “I fear he is lost.”

“No, no,” Terra said. “I understand him. He’s referencing things from my world.” Terra knelt down next to the man and laid a hand on his back. “Mika, my name is Terra. Can you understand me?”

The Seer’s shaking suddenly started to calm. He looked Terra in the eye. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Terra. Yes. I know you. I’ve always known you.” He smiled and paced a paint-stained hand against her face. “Is it time, Terra? If you’re lost and you look then you will find me, time after time. Are you truly here before me?”

“My word,” Gant said.

Terra nodded. “Yeah, I’m here. Mika, do you know why I’m here?”

Mika cocked his head to one side. “She said you were needed,” he explained.

“Someone said I’m needed?”

“Yes, the one who knocks,” he replied. His voice suddenly grew deep. “I am the one who knocks.”

Terra raised an eyebrow. “Who is the one who knocks?”

“She lives in the dream,” he said. “In the dream of the tall man.” He then pointed out toward the sky. “She won’t talk to me. But I know. I overheard.”

“Who is it, Uncle? Who lives in the dream?”

The Seer looked over to Nalya. “Oh, hello Nalya. How is your husband?” He smirked. “And the children? They look so much like you both.” He then looked to Terra. “Ah! Terra! You shouldn’t be here– wait. Are you supposed to be here? When is it?”

“Mika, please,” Terra said. “I don’t have any answers. We’re flying blind here. I need you to hold it together just for a few moments. Can you do that for me?”

The Seer yelled out, then closed his eyes for a moment. “Bazinga,” he said. “Penny, Penny, Penny. I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

Terra looked up to Nalya. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to get much out of him,” she said. “He’s too lost.”

“Wait!” Mika said. “Lost! Yes, I am lost!” He grunted to himself proudly and then nodded. “Kalla. She knocks. She knocks on the door in the dreams of the tall man.” He pointed to Terra. “You know the tall man. He is the key. The key to it all.”

“Kalla?” Nalya said.

Terra looked to her. “Why do I recognize that name?”

Nalya looked to Gant, then back to Terra. “Kalla is… the name of the goddess who was said to have ruled over the Azure Dream, but… she died with all the other gods, long ago.”

“Shit,” Terra said. “The tall man?” She looked to Mika again. “Boomer, are you talking about Boomer?”

“Boomer? Names are old. Ancient. He’s had many names, many. He’s been through the desert on a horse with no name.” He cocked his head. “Maybe he has, maybe he will. Time is a race is a gender is a social construct. Time is a gender? He was a one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater.”

Terra sighed. There was no making sense of what he was saying. It was just too erratic, and filled with a strange collection of references to her world.

“His mind is… confused,” Gant said. “I daresay he is lost to us.”

“Whatchu talkin’ about, Willis?” Mika said.

Terra looked to Gant. “How does his power work?”

“The Blue Sight?” Gant asked. “He sees events in time. When he’s lucid he’s better able to describe them. When he connects to a person, he is able to see their past, their future. He is–”

“You’re right,” Terra said. “He’s lost. But not to us. You said he started this the morning Ladysmith arrived, right?”

Nalya nodded.

Terra pointed around the room. “All these symbols,” she said. “They’re not some random assortment of references from my world. He’s reciting song lyrics, quotes and memories from movies and television shows. He’s not lost due to just simple insanity, he’s lost because he’s searching through all these visions of the pasts and futures of people from Ladysmith.”

“You think so?”

Terra shrugged. “I’m not a hundred percent positive, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Got it in one,” Mika said. He looked up to Terra. “You dig?”

“Mika, if you can understand and answer me for just a minute, I need you to tell me what to do next,” she said.

Mika let out a drawn out sigh and closed his eyes. He held his silence for a moment, then opened his eyes and looked to Nalya with a clarity he had not yet been able to show. “We are strangers to this world, Nalya. We were never meant to be here. It was an accident committed long ago. The darkness will return, and it’s our fault. Our folly. It will happen again, and it is up to you to prepare. Your role in this is only just beginning.” He pointed to Terra. “You must trust in them, put your faith in them. You must protect them and those who are yet to come. They will not make it easy, but you must.” He wore a sad look on his face. “And love, my niece. Love. Not all is about your duty as a daughter.” He looked to Terra. “I cannot hold it together for long. Simply being in your presence is… confusing. I know not where I am in time, but I know that you will know the truth, and that it will not come from me. Your Sight is greater than mine. You will not become mad. It’s not much, but it’s all I can offer.” He looked to Gant. “Thank you, my oldest friend.” He paused for a moment, then his eyes once again glazed over. “Until next time. Same Bat time, same Bat channel.”

With that, the Seer went back to madly painting symbols on the floor.

Gant, Terra and Nalya could only look at each other.

----------------------------------------

Nalya didn’t say a word as they left the tower compound. She walked a few steps ahead of Terra, but kept her eyes forward. Terra got the sense she was deep in thought. Terra found herself looking at each of the marble reliefs on the high walls on the outside of the compound.

Terra paused as she walked past one of the reliefs. It showed Mair cutting pieces of paper and marking them with four symbols. The symbols were intimately familiar to her. Clubs, spades, hearts and diamonds.

“Those are playing cards,” Terra said, pointing at the relief.

Nalya turned and regarded the relief, then nodded. “Yes, Mair was known for inventing a number of games,” she explained. “Many of the games he invented are still played today.”

“Like what?”

“Well, like the deck of cards,” she said. “With which you could play many games. There was also the grid board, upon which you could play Jumps or Survivor.” She motioned to another relief. “He also invented the game of Sock Ball.”

Terra looked over to the other relief. On it, a man kicked a ball toward another man who stood in front of what appeared to be a goal.

“Holy shit, it’s soccer,” she said. She looked to Nalya. “This game is still played here?”

“Of course,” she said. “It is the most popular sport in all the Pactlands.”

“And that’s the grid board?” she asked, pointing to another relief.

“Yes.”

Terra raised an eyebrow. “Checkers and Chess,” she said. “He didn’t invent those games, he brought them here.”

Nalya cocked her head to one side, then looked to the reliefs. She seemed to consider it for a moment, then dropped her shoulders for a moment. Saying nothing, she continued to walk away.

“Sorry,” Terra said. “Did I strike a nerve?”

“It’s nothing,” Nalya said.

“No, no,” Terra replied. “Out with it.”

Nalya shook her head. “Meeting you,” she said. “Seeing Ladysmith. The Featherclaw. The Twilight Blade. That blasted journal, and… and my uncle.” She sighed. “Wendell Mair. Things that have been part of our culture for a thousand years. Histories we hold sacred. But we were never even meant to be here.” She looked to Terra. “Everything we’ve done for the past thousand years, every victory, every invention and achievement, our very language, were never supposed to be. Did I tell you my father died recently?”

Terra nodded. “You mentioned something like that,” she said.

“My father was obsessed with the Founders,” she said. “He was convinced there was more to our histories than the High Magus Council would allow to be known. Since I was a little girl, I remember him spending long nights alone in his study, poring over ancient tablets found in the Sandsea, studying parchments and fragments of text from as far back as the Eventine Wars and tracing the final paths of the Founders. I loved my father. I, too, found great interest in such things, but… his obsession with it ultimately led to his death.”

“What do you mean?”

“His whole life he’d found mentions of a place considered to be the birthplace of humanity,” she said, then laughed. “But the birthplace of humanity isn’t here. It never was.” She looked over to her. “He was so convinced he’d found it. A place the old texts would only ever refer to as the Cradle. Legends say that was where the Founders spent their last days, and after a lifetime of research, my father was convinced he’d discovered where it is.” She looked to her. “High in the mountains of the Spine that separates the Disputed Lands from Rasza. A land so dangerous nobody has traversed the area in millennia. So he went, and I followed. And then he died searching for it. He died seeking the answer to a mystery that… was never even ours to solve.” She looked to Terra once more. “Could you imagine living your life, loving your father so deeply, and attempting to carry on his legacy with respect only to discover that he died for no reason? That if he had only waited, he might have learned that our histories aren’t even truly ours?”

Terra blinked. “That’s not true,” she said.

“How is it not? You heard my uncle. We were mistakes.”

“Nalya, look at this place,” she said. She motioned toward the walls. “This is one of the most beautiful buildings I’ve ever seen in your world, and in mine. Architects on earth couldn’t have fashioned something the scale of this city out of pure marble. Statues? Sure. Pillars and steps? Maybe. An entire city? No way in hell. Then look at what you’ve achieved. Four nations, each existing today as more or less exact copies of what they were a thousand years ago. We might have a few cities on Earth that are a thousand years old, but nations? Not even close. At least, not the same ones as existed back then. You managed to maintain some sort of equilibrium across an entire continent where our nations only last like three hundred years before it all falls apart. Sure, maybe you weren’t supposed to be here. Maybe mankind was only ever supposed to be on Earth, but you and your ancestors are here. So what are you going to do about that? Sulk? Give up? You heard your uncle.”

“He told me to place all my faith in you,” she said.

“He also told you to love. That despite all the other things he said, you have a place in this world. An important role to play in whatever the hell comes next. That this is only just the beginning of the part you have to play.” She sighed. “I think I would find some solace in that. Some hope.”

Nalya sighed, then continued to walk slowly. “Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps you are right. But it is… still much to take in.”

“Well, no shit,” she replied. “For what it’s worth I understand why this is hard for you.”

“How could you?”

Terra cocked her head to one side. “Are you seriously asking you how I could understand what it’s like to have everything you thought you knew about the universe stripped away and replaced with complete uncertainty?”

Nalya wore a sad smile. “I see your point.”

“As far as I’m concerned, Nalya, we’re friends. And if you’re going to put your faith in us, that means I have your back, no matter what,” she said.

Nalya nodded. She looked over at Terra once more. “Thank you,” she said. “Truly.”

“It ain’t just Bayne that’s got your back, honey,” Terra said. “You and I, we’re a team now. Capisce?”

“Cap— I’m sorry?”

“Never mind. Just agree with me,” Terra said.

----------------------------------------

“That's a Cave Jag?” Ryan asked. He looked at the thing, locked behind iron cages, it was at least as big as a bear-- but it was a cat. Although for a beast that size, it seemed rather weak. Its ribs were completely visible, as though it had been starved. The animal looked up at the group in mild interest, but for the most part just lay motionless on the ground inside of its pen.

“That frail thing?” Bayne said. “Nay, that's a pussycat. Wild Cave Jags are twice as big, this thing's been broken.”

“Broken?” Cale asked. “Like, whipped?”

Bayne nodded. “Probably.”

“Don't tell Terra that,” Ryan warned. “She'll go on a crusade. She loves animals, and she'd shit if she heard animals were being treated like this.”

Quick squeaked in approval from his vantage point in the bag at Ryan’s side. He was peeking out at the sights, excited to see the menagerie himself. Cale has expressed doubt that they should bring him along, but to everyone’s surprise, it was Bayne who supported the idea to bring him along. Ryan didn’t get the sense Bayne was warming up to the small creature, but was more than happy to oblige nonetheless. He rather liked the little guy.

The menagerie had been set up on the park grounds near the city centre, and Ryan immediately found it more like a circus. Men dressed in silly outfits roamed around, performing back flips and juggling for the crowd. They were just like clowns. Mimes and orators stood around, and young women stood at every corner with glazed looks on their faces as they seemed to recite a common script of the day’s news. Bayne had informed them that they were Street Sirens.

The animals, however, were the main attractions. They walked to the next cage, a large encasement that held a small wyvern. Ryan examined the thing closely. He could see why the comparison to dragons was made. It looks almost exactly like the illustrations he’d seen growing up, except perhaps for the way its lower jaw was far more elongated than its top jaw. Nonetheless, it was small and listless, and hardly imposing. He had never seen what Boomer saw the first morning at Kamper's Korner, but he was sure it was cooler than this. It lumbered around shiftless, watching the people who gawked at it with hollow eyes. The one time it opened its jaws, Ryan could see that all its teeth had been pulled. He gasped upon noticing it, and felt truly sorry for the animal.

“That's not cool,” Ryan said. “They busted his teeth out.”

“Wyverns are cowardly creatures,” Bayne explained. “But even a small one could become vicious when cornered.”

“That thing’s gotta be five hundred pounds at least. It'd own you,” Cale said.

Ryan shrugged. “I liked dragons as a kid. He just... I dunno, I just expected my first dragon would be more imposing.”

“What, the featherclaw weren't imposing enough?” Cale asked.

Ryan shook his head. “No, they were cool. But they’re more like dinosaur bird things. Plus, they’re sapient.”

After taking a few moments to snap some pictures, Ryan moved onward. An enclosure was made around a small pond, and inside he could see someone swimming around. He looked at the sign. It read Nymphus. He looked to Bayne.

“Bullocks,” he said. “Nobody’s seen a live Nymphus in years. That’s a human girl.”

The person swimming around climbed out of the pond and relaxed in the sun under a tree. She was a young woman, fully nude, except her hair was green and she had a set of fins under her arms. The sight made Ryan flinch.

“Wait, so she's fake?”

Bayne nodded. “Must be.”

Ryan laughed. “This place is a scam,” he said. He turned to Cale. “Arrest them.”

Cale put his hands up. “I’m a little out of my jurisdiction.”

Ryan just rolled his eyes, then looked over to the large tent nearby. “What's in there?” he asked.

“Light Mage, more than likely,” he said. “They create illusions, tell stories in the air.”

“Like holograms? How?” Ryan asked.

Bayne shrugged. “Ye might ask a Light Mage.”

Cale looked at the tent for a moment, then turned back to Bayne and Ryan. “I want to check it out.”

Quick squeaked his approval from within the bag.

“That makes three of us,” Ryan said.

“Aye, I suppose we could. Shall we, then?”

When they entered the tent, the show was already well underway. Both Ryan and Cale stared at the image of a man battling a strange creature. It was a multi-limbed, lumbering monster with sharp teeth. Its skin was jet black, save for glowing red cracks that reminded Ryan of magma. The image hung in the air over a central stage, while a man and a woman stood to either side.

The images and animation were so fine, so detailed and realistic-- but it lacked something Ryan would have expected. Sound effect. Instead, a man with a booming voice spoke.

“And so it was that Rasshauer Flenn took raised his black blade of lament and struck the beast down with it,” the narrator said.

The sword was back at Ableton Hall, but the version of it Ryan was looking at had few differences. It definitely wasn’t as thick as it was being portrayed, and the hilt was the wrong colour entirely, but they’d seemed to get the shape right.

In the light show, the red-haired barbarian soundlessly moved across the air, performing aerial tricks one might have expected of an acrobat. There was something slightly off about the way he moved, but Ryan couldn’t put his finger on it. It was as if the image was flowing more than it should have been if it were real.

“Isn’t that the sword?” Cale asked. “What the hell is he fighting?”

“The Void,” Bayne replied. He pointed. “They called it Zeit the Fallen, the Beast of Tal Perin. Stories say he was the first to come, and the strongest. He consumed all that he touched, and it became a part of him. He grew stronger and stronger, and all the tribes were helpless against him.”

“Sort of like the Thing?” Ryan asked. He looked to Bayne. “It’s a movie monster in my world. It could change its shape, look like anything. But anything it touched became a part of it.”

“Zeit’s shape changed, aye. But it only ever looked uglier,” Bayne said. “It seemed the only thing that could hurt the Void was magic, at least until the Founders arrived and discovered other ways to fight it using enchanted weapons and tools.”

Ryan nodded and looked up at the image some more as the narrator gave a play-by-play of the action. “Nice effects,” he said. “Sound design could use some work.”

“So this guy is one of the Founders, right?” Cale asked.

“Aye,” Bayne said.

“So is he from Earth as well?”

Bayne sighed. “I wouldnae guessed it before,” he said. “But now, who’s to say. Yer coming to be here has shaken up quite a bit.”

Ryan turned his attention back to the show. Flenn was now pulling his sword out of a dead Zeit, and raised it high.

“And so Flenn then said unto the peoples of Eiden: the Beast of Tal Perin lies dead! The Void has been rebuked! Let us feast. And let us never make war against each other again! Let us join together and make a Pact between all the tribes of these lands to defend these lands against all Void! Against all threats to the life and happiness of the people, and let our will be as strong as steel! So, Flenn and the Founders brought together the heads of the four tribes, and made the Pact which stands strong even today!”

“Something tells me this is the abridged version,” Cale said as the crowd clapped.

The man and woman who stood on the side of the stage walked to the centre while the image of Flenn still hovered above their heads. After a moment, it disappeared, leaving only the two people.

They both bowed, and the man then spoke. “My thanks to you, good people of Arronay. My thanks to you. As some of you may already be aware, my name is Ghern Lex. I studied under the Wings of the Peacock at the Deyish Academies for several years to hone my skills as a Light Mage, and now I fulfil my passions by travelling the lands to bring you such amazing stories of heroes and triumph! A per the traditions of Light Mages, I offer my services for free, but ask you to spare a coin or three of your own free will so that we may bring such joys to others.”

“Should we donate?” Rryan asked.

“Aye, it’s bad luck to give nothing to a Light Mage,” Bayne said. He pulled three coins from the purse at his side and handed one to both Ryan and Cale.

The young woman with the Light Mage was making her way through the crowd with a pan as people dropped their donations into it. She eventually approached Ryan and Cale, and gave them a strange look as Ryan dropped his coin into the pan.

“Forgive me,” she said. Her eyes passed over to Cale as well. “Your clothing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The designs on your shirts are most strange. Is that the Old Script?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ryan said. “We aren’t from around here. We’re from… far away. Outside the Pactlands.”

“By your dress I would say further even than Caede,” she said. “And you don’t bear the look of Southmen.”

“We’re from a place called Ladysmith,” Ryan said. “It’s… sort of a long story, but it’s in the Disputed Lands.”

She raised an eyebrow. “The Free Lands? I know the Free Lands well, I’ve never heard of a place called Ladysmith.”

“It wasn’t always in the Dis– The Free Lands,” Ryan said.

Suddenly, the look of understanding dawned on her face. “So the rumours are true, then? A city from another world?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call Ladysmith a city,” he said.

“What of Vector?” the girl asked. “Are those rumours true as well? They are claiming the Free Lands?”

“Well, that’s part of the reason we’re here, actually. We–”

“What’s it to ye, lass?” Bayne interjected.

The young woman looked over to Bayne. “My apologies, good sir,” she said. “I was born in the Free Lands. I only hoped to discover if the rumours of them raiding and conscripting Freemen were true.”

“Where were ye from?”

“A village in the Senta Pass. Called Stone’s Mouth. I left a long time ago and have no further connections there. Still, I should not wish them to suffer.”

“Aye,” Bayne said. “Stone’s Mouth was in the path of Vector. They killed many. Took others. I’m sorry, lass.”

The woman sighed. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “That is a shame.”

“Don’t worry,” Ryan said. “Stone’s Mouth has protection now. We’ve actually been there, and we’re going to make sure Vector doesn’t get a chance to mess with them again.”

“Is that so?” she asked. “Then I thank you,” she said. She looked back over her shoulder. “I should continue to collect donations. I thank you, and I wish you all good fortune.”

“Wait,” Ryan said. “What’s your name?”

“Nim,” she said.

“Nim, you and your boss should visit Ladysmith when it’s safe,” he said. “I think there’s a lot you both would gain from the experience.”

“Oh?” Nim asked. “I shall bring it up with Mage Lex.” She then turned around and went back to work.

“What was that about?”

“Just doing my part to spread the good word,” Ryan said. He turned to Cale. “Nalya said it herself. We need to get people used to us, right? What better way than to have a travelling Light Mage bring some of our culture to others?”

“What do you mean?”

“Movies,” Ryan said. “Star Wars. The Godfather. Saving Private Ryan. He brings some of our stories into the Pactlands, it’s going to give them a frame of reference into who we are.”

“So your top three choices are about an evil empire, a crime boss, and war, and that’s the frame of reference you want the people of the Pactlands to have of us?”

Ryan paused. “Maybe that idea could use some work.”

“Maybe,” Cale said. He then paused and seemed to sniff the air.

“What is it?”

Cale shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I thought I caught a whiff of gasoline, but that wouldn’t make any sense.”