Chapter 103: City Builder
It was weird, seeing an entire district demarcated for a specific purpose. I hadn’t bothered paying attention to the specifics before now, having considered this nothing more than a brief layover before the journey resumed. That was very much in doubt now, given the invasion, and it was probable that our stay would be greatly extended in the interim, meaning that I actually had to pay attention to Heaven’s Reach as a whole.
Cities back in England had been hodgepodge affairs, filled with windy roads and alleys all too easy to get lost in, and overgrown brickwork laid across waves of settlement, rising and falling over the generations until the same street could host homes built centuries apart. Eco-friendly new age designs sat shoulder to shoulder with remnants of the Roman Empire, while Victorian brick houses reclined in the shadow of high-rise behemoths of glass and steel, not always without mishap either. One well known example reflected the light at just the right angle, melting any car unfortunate enough to be parked underneath; the subsequent lawsuit had been top fodder for tabloids and news shows alike, leading to a costly settlement and an even more expensive refurbishment, adding black blinders to cover the offending wall.
The point being, cities were very much organic affairs in my past life, contrasting sharply with the utilitarian planning that had shaped Heaven’s Reach; it hadn’t been as easy to notice when amongst the weeds, but now that I was overlooking the city from above, the distinction was clear. The market district was a perfect square, surrounded by a wall on every side. Every building in the district followed the same design, building long rather than tall, with wood on the outside and thatched straw rooftops. All I had to do was shift my gaze very slightly to the west, and not a single stalk of straw could be seen, and white brick held a monopoly in the half circle allocated towards the service industry. The industrial quarter, meanwhile, was a lifeless concrete jungle, reminiscent of my few visits to the former Eastern Bloc, while behind me were only buildings of stone, the most durable material of all, albeit the heaviest and most difficult to work with at scale, but worth it close to the Wall, where fortification was the sole and pressing concern for architects.
The slums alone lacked a coherent style, with aspects of every other district evident in the sprawling shanty town that dominated the south-east; whether this was due to a lack of provision, or the lack of enforcement eluded me, though the distinction was probably academic at best. All told, Heaven’s Reach looked like five cities in a trenchcoat, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not.
“Stop turning,” Pumpkin grumbled, whacking my ear with a paw in protest as he moved in tandem with my head. “What are you even looking at?”
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“Just admiring the scenery,” I explained, knowing that Pumpkin hadn’t gotten much out of the view, given his relative lack of distance vision.
Idly, I wondered if it were possible to give him the kind of visual acuity humans took for granted, at least before years of sitting in front of a screen degraded our sight to a similar degree. It hadn’t been possible back on Earth, or at least I’d never heard of a cat with glasses, but maybe magic had a solution for this; something to consider, once I had more gilt to my name and the ear of a magical Artisan.
“Let’s go,” I relented, picking up the pace and abandoning my sightseeing.
I didn’t go too far, limiting myself to a light jog, because the path was steep enough that I didn’t want to risk it; a small tumble would turn into a long roll down to the bottom, and while I could probably survive it given my durability, it would be a painful and humiliating way to make my descent. The streets were emptier than I’d have expected for a city this size, with only the odd Soldier making his rounds along the path. None of them tried to pull us aside, though several turned our way, staring at Pumpkin more often than not. Possibly, that was due to his Class being on display, while mine was hidden by the Blackened Bracelet, but it was just as likely they were cat lovers, and there was no deeper motive in their stares. Our descent concluded peacefully, charting a southwest path to the ground, and it wasn’t until we reached the northern wall to the service district that we found our way blocked by a pair of guards, halberds crossed in front of us like a scene out of a mummer’s play.
“Halt! We need to make sure you’re not a Changeling, show us your name tag!”
Not the worst demand I’d ever gotten in the street, since he wasn’t begging for money, even if it was a bit hypocritical since neither of the guards showed their own. It would be pointless arguing over it, so I removed the Blacked Bracelet from my arm for a moment.
[Class (Public): Level 1 Merchant]
“Alright, carry on then.”
With that brief stop out of the way, I was able to cross the threshold and enter the service district. The roads were crowded, with men and women of all stripes roaming the streets, going from one establishment to another or chatting by the roadside with drinks in hand. Hawkers set up stands in front of some of the more prominent buildings, loudly proclaiming the superior quality of their goods and services, carrying trays laden with brochures and occasionally free samples. None of them had been visible from above, so I could only conclude that an illusion was in place to preserve their privacy from outsiders. In stark contrast to the martial lean, further up the mountain, everybody here was either a Civilian or a Merchant, and there were no guards in sight, though I was sure some were hiding among the crowd; my ability to conceal my true Class was unlikely to be unique.
That was fine though, because I had no intention of being caught doing anything illegal. This was definitely the right place to be, I already knew; money flowed freely here, so all I had to do was make some of it my own. Now, where to start?