The walk through the city was nothing but chilling to Owin. A certain aura of anxiety couldn’t help but surround the knight. No sounds could be heard. No people seen. Everything looked exactly the same, just stone stacked on top of stone, with little to no creativity or change in each structure. There are no churches, no stores, not even a castle or hall which usually houses the leaders of any given city. Instead, the men lead them into a random building that looked like any other. There aren’t even any doors. Instead, the soldier stood in front of the wall and made extravagant hand and body gestures like he was miming. He mimicked the motion of punching something down, and as his arms moved, so did the stone. A wide enough opening slid into the ground to act as an entrance. It was like the material was bending and moving to his whim.

Nialuc had an air of seriousness around him that even Elena could feel. His eyes lingered and watched the men’s movements and the way the stone was shifted. Owin could tell he was memorising their movements. It was clearly something he hadn’t seen much before. But what was truly ticking Nialuc off, was his inability to sense anything.

He sensed the mens auras, he could sense people inside their houses, some even casting minor magic spells, perhaps simple things like lighting a fireplace with a magically produced flame, but otherwise, and especially for the way these people bent the earth, nothing was emanating. But if it wasn’t magic, how were they defying the limits of reality?

The places on the inside are just as colourless and boring as the outside. There are no decorations or furniture that didn’t have purpose. Nothing was made to please the eyes but simply to fulfil a task. The room they are brought into looks like a shallow copy of a reception. Women sit behind a counter made of stone, on chairs made of stone, using ink out of pots made of stone to write with pens made of stone. There is no desk that is unoccupied, no chair not sat on, no cabinet or drawer without items inside it. The gruff man walks up to the receptionist and begins speaking to her in another language.

Owin immediately perks up, becoming more suspicious. His anxiousness growing tenfold. Elena bobs her head back and forth while listening to the two speak, acting like it's music to her ears, but her gaze and expression don’t change. Both Owin and Nialuc notice her odd movement, both coming to the conclusion that she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. Slowly the two are noticing her tendency to act and speak without thinking.

Nialuc and Owin take a step back to whisper to each other. Owin speaking first, “Recognize the language?”

“Yes. It's some sort of Slavic. More Western.”

“Why aren’t they using common tongue? Everyone can speak common tongue… right?”

“Of course dumbass! We were just talking to them in common”

“Yah but does the lady speak common?”

“I… dont know. She should. She doesn’t have an accent. Did you notice Elena-”

“-yes. Maybe she understands them?”

Their whispering is cut short by the soldier turning around. He nods to his two fellow guards and together they walk over to the left-hand wall. They start raising their hands and mimic the pushing movements from before, this time pushing upwards and to the side. As expected, the earth above them starts to move. A small section of the ceiling opens and is pushed like a slab, they then make a pulling motion and bricks extend from the wall, creating a small staircase.

The guard turns to them. “We aren’t equipped to house foreigners at the moment. We hope you aren’t planning on staying too long”

Nialuc frowns at the comment. “We’re here to see the Evilians or someone from their dynasty who’s in charge. We didn’t ask for anything else and don’t want anything else. So just do your job. Please.”

The soldier and Nialuc have a bit of a stare-off, but the gruff man relents and leads the trio up the stairs. As they walk, Owin whispers to the lancer, “A little aggressive dont you think?”

“I'm not in the mood. I heard something about ‘annoying foreigners’ and ‘Half breed blackie’ when he was talking to the receptionist”

“Hm.. well honestly I’m surprised it took this long until someone mentioned my weird skin”

“Aren’t you annoyed? Angry? This idiot is a-”

“Being unreasonable? Maybe, but then again, I deal with unreasonable people all the time.”

“You would strike me as someone who’d despise racial inequality.”

“I kind of do, but I don’t mind it when it's targeted at me. My skin is pretty weird.”

Nialuc shakes his head and walks slightly faster to get out of the conversation. Meanwhile Owin buddies up next to Elena. “So. You speak Slavic?”

“Huh?”

“Well. Just going off of how your head was moving I assumed-”

“-my head moving?”

“...” Owin takes a long look at her, but decides against digging further. “Never mind. You just speak common or..?”

“Well.. I picked up a little Polish while I’ve been here. That's all I really remember”

“Did you understand when the soldier was talking to the receptionist?”

“Um. I was just thinking about something else. Wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Ah, alright, maybe I was mistaken.” Elena’s head tilts at the Knights uncertainess. They don’t have any more time to talk, as they halt before a large stone wall. Surprising nobody at this point, the three soldiers take a stance and push the wall to the side, revealing a much nicer room. Comparatively at least. In essence, it's still just a stone room furnished with stone constructions but unlike the others, there is a nice green carpet taking up most of the floor and the desk, sitting in the middle of the room, has been painted brown to give the illusion of wooden material. Colourful banners line the walls, assuming they are the banners of the city flag, which, unlike the city itself, are much nicer to look at. The flag consists of a left and right yellow strip with a vibrant blue line going down the middle and a silver gem pictured in the centre. At the painted desk, sits a nicely dressed man in dark red and black robes. He has a strong but tired face with slightly baggy eyes and similarly slightly overgrown beard. When the wall moves open, he looks up from his desk where papers lie scattered across with fresh ink. He gives a peaceful but exhausted-looking smile. Standing up, he looks to be about Owins height. His hands are held firmly behind his back in a formal stance.

“Sire. This is Nialuc, the Lancer of Emba and his disciple as well as peasant knight.” The soldier introduces them.

“Um, I'm an actual Knight sir.”

“Hush Owin.” Nialuc shushes him.

“Without a doubt. You are here to… clear the path if I remember correctly?” The tired man says, speaking slowly and with a slightly exasperated growl, one that usually follows an early morning.

“I'm actually here for a little more than that.” Nialuc gestures at the soldier around him with a wave, intending to dismiss them, but they dont move, staring at him.

The lancer stares back, a bit surprised and irritated at his lack of authority.

“Yes. Please gentlemen, if you’d be so kind as to give us a moment” The bearded man asks politely, to which the soldiers respond by leaving and shutting the wall behind them.

“Our task was to clear the path, but I’ve become interested in your city. I was here a brisk few years ago and it seems this place has gone through a radical transformation”

“Yes… It certainly has…” He says with a salt-ridden tone. Walking over to Nialuc he reaches out to shake his hand and offers Owin the same respect. When he looks at Elena, something seems to click in his brain. She doesn't notice it but Owin sees the man’s eyes widen ever so slightly, pupils shrinking just enough to be noticeable. He takes her hand, gives it a kiss and bows. “My name is Walter. Walter Evilian”

“I hear your family has become instituted into the Ogninan league. Impressive for a new dynasty”

“Thank you, great lancer. It was certainly a challenge.”

“And how exactly did you manage such a great task?” Owin butts in, slightly aggressive in tone. Nialuc shoots him a look that goes unnoticed by all but Elena.

“My family rose to the challenge of governing this place. We made many sacrifices for our people.”

“Your people are living under conditions I can only assume to be admired by prison inmates.”

“Owin!” Nialuc shouts at him suddenly. Yet Walter doesn’t seem to be surprised. Instead, he sighs in exhaustion.

“I understand what you mean… I'm not happy about it either.”

Owins expression turns from righteous vigour to sceptical insecurity. Walter gestures for the group to follow him to the back wall of the large room. He then also performs the miracle moving trick the soldiers did, shoving the wall 90 degrees down and pushing up its edges to create an instant extending balcony with railing. The group steps out into the blowing air. Of all the places in the city, this one is the tallest, still far below the tallest point of the walls and just slightly taller than all the other buildings. But there is enough to see a sectioned-out area in the centre of the city quite a ways away.

Walter gestures out to his work. “This is Abkbir. I'm not proud of what it has become. But what we’ve done we did out of desperation.”

Owin, his tone not changing and not letting his thoughts falter, demands “You owe an explanation then.”

“Owin, stop it. What are you even mad about? This is-” Nialuc begins to reprimand the knight but Walter interrupts him.

“The knight is angry at me. He can see what this place truly is. A prison.”

Nialuc and Elena stare out to the city, then back at the Lord.

“Well, it might be a little bland and… quiet. But-” Elena tries to reason.

“It's not about just that. The people. Where are they? Squalled up in these grey quarters, probably packed and assigned like sheep. No colour, no culture, no market, no belief or faith. This is more than just bland. This is oppression.” Owin speaks out in anger.

“... You do have a point, Knight. But let me explain what happened to this place.” Walter pleads, his exhausted act not gaining any sympathy from Owin.

Walter sighs again. “There once was a town. A place created by 3 men. Abez, Bidi and Kiren. They build this place’s foundations. They created what eventually became Abkbir. At first, the settlement was a place for refugees. Before the League was formed, the, at the time, Empire of the Grey Crown was expanding its reaches further and further East, slowly conquering its way through the lands that worshipped Oghma. The three men formed Abkbir as a haven for people who had no other place to go. Their focus was set on their people. Years passed. The League was formed. The Empire collapsed and became a Kingdom. Abkbir, throughout all of that time, remained by its principles. Sadly, not many of the original founders remain. Abez never had a child. Bidi’s family was wiped out in conflict and from disease. Kiren was the only one who still has surviving descendants. When the Red Feather crisis hit the region, it was too much for Abkbir to handle. By that time, our city was collapsing. The surrounding wilderness is too dangerous for the people to handle. Collecting food and wood became impossible and more and more people were leaving, dying or disappearing. Our Lord, my uncle, the last remaining descendant of Kiren, went mad. He became sick and lost all muscles and fat in his body. My father deposed him during the Red Feathe Crisis. You see, the lands around Abkbir are more dangerous than many. We are close to the border of the Grey Crown and neighboring cities are far and few between. Monsters plague the night, stalking our forests and fields. The beasts roam freely here. By god, that's even something you came to fix, not even the one-road connection is safe. When Father became Lord, I was sent on a search for help, for anything that could aid our people. I found a man, in fact, a very young one. The smartest and wisest I’ve ever known. We call him Salvatoris but his real name was never given to me. He taught us the ways of Solid manipulation”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Nialucs mind sparks like a fire at the mention.

“There used to be villages around. Little places where people couldn’t even speak common. These people were suffering even more than us. With Solid Manipulation, we built these walls, these houses, this prison. Not to keep us in, but to keep the beasts out. We took in as many people as we could. So many that we barely fit everyone in the houses we have. The city runs on an underground system of rocky tubes, where each citizen works in their house, getting materials shipped from other houses to work and ship away to the next. People never leave their homes. We get by as best we can with the underground. Food that can grow in humid dark caves, materials that can be mined and heat that we can only attain from creating buildings out of materials as isolating as possible.”

“... You’re all trapped by force of the outside then?...”

“Yes. And I hate every second of it. We considered tearing this place down and crossing to friendlier territory but its too late for that. We have all the materials other places would strive for but lack the fundamentals. That's why we’re looking to clear a path for trade and get whatever we can from Emba.”

“Are the monsters really that bad?”

“Did you not encounter them on the way?”

“Well…” Owin silences himself quickly after remembering the things they saw.

“Lord. I understand this is a difficult burden. But be sure in knowing that Emba will be nothing but vigorous and committed to your people.” Nialuc addresses him.

“Thank you. We are forever grateful what what you’ve already done.” The lord bows.

“I’d have other things to discuss with you… in fact, we might actually need to stay here for a day or two.”

“Please, let me offer you a place. If you dont mind too much.”

Walter points out to the place that actually has some colour. A small green patch of land with two wooden houses and a shallow creek. A metal fence surrounds it.

“My uncle lives there, along with the grave of my father.”

“He is.. Alive? And… sane?”

“Uncle has been very vigorous. He is not all there… but he mostly stays in the gardening hut. It was his favourite pastime when he was lord. And before his sickness…”

“Many thanks lord… I apologize for my outburst” Owin takes his hand.

“Please dont be. I appreciate your determination. You clearly have my people’s best interest in mind.”

“Owin. Elena. Please go, me and the Lord have something private to talk over.”

The two give Nialuc a sceptical glance but nod. Walter pushes the wall open for them to leave but just before they do, Owin turns and stares into the Lord's eyes, asking “My lord. One last thing. On the road, we encountered a man, one with robes and an unmistakable fox mask. Heard of him?”

Walter takes a moment to think before answering, all the while Owin keeps his eyes trained intensely at him.

“Sorry, never heard of him”

“Right. Thank you, lord.”

Owin takes Elena's hand and walks out, leading her along quickly. The soldiers from before guide them down out to the street.

“O-Owin… your hand…” Elena says quietly as Owins grip grows tighter and tighter, almost hurting her. Yet the Knights mind is in a different place. Let’s visit Uncle then… My Lord

After the pair leave, Nialuc turns back to the Lord with a serious expression.

“Where can I find Salvatoris”

Owin races down the narrow streets with Elena in tow who can barely keep up with his fast walking pace. When they reach the green fenced-off area, they are let in by the guards at one of the gates, getting a paper message through a little stone cart sliding from a stone pipe out of the ground, from the Lord, giving them permission to enter. When they step in, they take a moment to appreciate the soft grass and pleasant view in contrast to the dullness around it. All things considered, it's a lush patch of grass, more than the normal fields outside the city. There is an abnormal scent, something akin to honey. Neither of them could smell it before, only now that they’re past the metal fence did it occur to them. On this land, there are the two huts. One much smaller, painted white and in pretty good shape. The other is more the size of a barn, brown and banged up. Between them, a small little creek of water filled with various plant life and bugs. Around the edges of the white hut and near the fence, there are lines of flowers, fruit and vegetables growing in large and luscious sizes and colours. Near the fence, there is a frail, terrifyingly skinny old man. Puffs of white hair along his longer head and dry skin. He’s dressed in a white suit, usually worn by beekeepers but with no bees in sight. Owin, after getting an unusually smileful and confident nod from Elena, approaches the man with her slowly.

“Um.. excuse me… sir”

The old man slowly turns around, his face contorted in a constant large open smile, clearly missing teeth and with a broken nose.

“Hä?!” he snorts, digging a small hole with a trowel.

“... You are a descendant of Kira? The lord uncle?”

“Ahh.. hehe…” The man chuckles, looking back to his digging.

“... sir?”

“Think fast chucklenuts!” He yells, shovelling a fist full of dirt in his trowel and throwing it at him. Owin quickly gets in front of Elena and closes his eyes as his face is covered in dirt.

Elena gasps in shock at first, but after a good few seconds starts to giggle as Owin stands completely still with an annoyed look. The dirt seeping between his armour down his neck.

“Let me get that for you…“ Elena says shyly as she swats away the dirt piece by piece with the old man chuckling and snorting uncontrollably.

“Hehehehe! Snghr… Aha hehe..”

Owin looks around outside of the gate, finding multiple glares of different soldiers trained on him at all times.

“Figured yad pull yer blade on mey”

“Why would I do that?”

“Hehehe.. That's what I always tell em.”

“I… Don’t understand…”

“I think he’s testing you” Elena whispers into the Knights ear.

“If yad have dun that, the bad men woulda taken ya way.”

“The bad men? The soldiers?”

“Let's talk inside blackie”

Slowly the older man waddles over to the bigger brown hut. Elena, seeing the man struggle, takes him by the hand, guiding him along the way. Owin walks slowly behind them, eyeing the soldiers around the fence suspiciously.

Once they make it inside the hut, the old man sits down at the living room table. The house is oddly vacant for regular standards, but at this point, Owin and Elena are happy to even see normal furniture made of wood.

“Old lord.. I need answers that I believe only you can give me.”

“Hehe..”

Owin ignores his odd giggling and continues, “Your Nephew, the current lord. He’s hiding something from us.”

“He is?” Elena asks, confused.

“He was lying about the fox-masked man. And his eyes, his reaction when he saw you. He knows something we don’t”

“But.. how can you tell?”

“His tone, the hesitation, the twitching in his eyes, fiddling with his fingers behind his back.”

“He was fiddling?”

“And trying to hide it. He must know about you.”

“Hehe hehe… sghnr… Hehehehe”

“... Sir… Why did you call the soldiers bad men? Aren’t they here to protect you?” Elena asks calmly

“Nah.. if anytin, they’re hopin I die soon. They likta kick out anyone who gets too touchy with me to deny me visitors.”

“Why throw dirt at me then?” Owin asks.

“Cause its funny! Heheheee..”

“...”

“Why don’t they like you?” Elena continues.

“Agh.. men who cant think of themselves ell always be bad men.”

“Sir.” Elena sits down in front of the man and takes his hands into hers. “Do you recognize me by chance?”

The old man stares at her for a long while. Then snorts quietly. “Heh.. I can never forget sucha beuty”

Elena’s hands clutch the mans tightly. She closes her eyes and sinks her head. “Please… do you know anything about me? I lost all my memories… and im… haunted by things I dont understand…”

“...agh please… don be down” The man lightly strokes her hand. “I don remember much either. But I know who does. The fox man.. He’s a menace I tell ya.. But he’s got what the lord needs.”

Owins eyes widen. “So he does know him! They’re working together?”

“Mng… You should be careful… I… I can’t be-” The old man starts coughing violently, wheezing and snorting. Elena reaches out to hold him by the shoulders until he regains his composure. Or what little he has left. “Ngh… I need ta go… rest…”

“...right.. Please dont push yourself…” Elena guides the man with gentle hands. Owin thinks about offering to heal him, but there’s nothing he can do about the sickness of age.