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1264, PEK 12
IT HAD BEEN THE FIFTH DAY OF PEK, THE MONTH OF RAIN AND RENEWALS, WHEN HE FOUND HIMSELF TRANSPORTED TO THE WILDERNESS WITH NO IDEA WHERE HE WAS OR HOW HE GOT THERE. ONLY THE MEMORY OF FIGHTING A CRAZY OLD MAN AND FALLING.
He had been on the road for three days, once he found it, and had spent at least four days finding said road. It had been raining when he arrived, exhausted in ways he had never felt, and he ended up passing out. When he woke up, it was still raining, and gave no indication of letting up. He wondered if perhaps this was the afterlife, but it sucked too much with the mud and muck to be paradise, and not enough to be punishment. Not that he bought into such things, so he kept walking.
Jassen paused and looked up from the road to the heavy clouds that seemed low enough to reach up and touch, he almost felt like they were following him, not that he would have blamed the rain if it was. That was just how his life was going right then, and it would have been fitting. Like some sick, horrid joke. His only ray of sunshine was that, if it was following him, he was saving all the farmers from the drought that had clearly stricken the land for the past few years, based on how the ground looked.
He didn’t actually believe it was following him, and he did not believe in magic either, or he didn’t, until a now week prior. He knew enough science to be better informed than most, especially after the training he had received from Aakeer. He was able to understand most devices, even ancient devices, and knew they were not magic, no matter how amazing. Several of his personal weapons were like that.
The less educated might think them magic, and he wasn’t above using that to his advantage. But what he saw. What he felt. The power he felt pass through him as he fought that old man. There was no explaining that, not with the science he knew, or thought he knew, and that really was more than most.
He had finally found something beyond the featureless heavy clouds, the mud, and a seemingly endless road. He found himself at a crossroads. The crossroads felt surprisingly appropriate to him. He was nowhere he knew, and so might as well be on a different planet. He had no way of knowing how long he had already been gone. Was Kef okay? Aakeer? What of the family he sent to Kreeh in Creedeth? These thoughts left him adrift emotionally, along with the rain. At least if he could see the stars at night he might at least be able to figure out if he was still on Asti′ret.
Looking where he came from, he saw only darkness behind him, even his recent footprints washed away by the rain. To the right and forward as well, darkness and rain. To the left, he saw he light from what he hoped was a city or town illuminating the distant clouds, probably some fires, maybe he would be lucky and it would be a true city with an inn. He could use a proper bath. He had been soaked through to the bone for days, but he was also sweaty, and grimy, and had been in his armor for more than a week.
There was no escaping the rain, but a hot bath, some soap, and a nice scented shampoo. A purr escaped him at that thought, only to be stifled as that thought also brought thoughts of Kef to mind. Shaking himself and those thoughts from his mind, even some simple warm gruel would be better than the now soggy food bars he had been subsisting on, and was nearly, almost thankfully, out of.
He looked down the other directions again and finally made his decision. Any sign of civilization was worth it, he turned left and continued walking, the mud continuing its slow climb up past his knees, despite the rain. He thought how he must be quite a sight to see. A large fur, in heavy armor, dirty, and coated in mud from the road. A sight indeed.
#
Several hours later, and he was finally approaching the source of the light. He was able to make out the village, and beyond the village, he could start to make out the massive walls of a true city, and no small city either. It was also much farther away than he had initially estimated. What he had seen was the massive fires that burned atop the highest points of the wall, like candles on a massive cake.
Those walls. They had to be fifty feet at least, if not taller. This was an old city. Walls like these were First Age. They just did not make cities like this any more; maybe a dozen that he could think of; and none of them in his part of the world. So he had to wonder where he was. What city was this? The rain prevented him from seeing the sigil he knew would adorn the wall above the main city gate, but the sight of it rose his hope that he was not so far from home as he had feared.
So he slogged on. His exhaustion starting to get to him as he approached what might actually be his first real chance to rest in weeks. As he approached, the rain increased, further obscuring his vision and keeping him from making out the sigil.
As he made his way through the village, more of a town, until he could see the moat. Thought it really wasn′t a moat at all, but a river, the city sitting on an island, the bridge long and reinforced, with several draw bridge sections. The bridge over the river to the city hauntingly familiar, though he couldn’t place it.
He could see the cutting on the banks as he approached, where they had clearly cut out more of the bank to ensure there was enough river around the city walls. They probably dredged it regularly as well to keep it deep and swift. Must make for some really fertile farms in the area, he thought.
#
As he passed the half way point between the shore and the city, a lightning strike illuminated the gate, the city walls, and the guards. He froze, a mix of terror and elation from recognition gripping his heart. It was however not the guards that stopped him, not the imposing and massive walls, nor was it the lightnings flash, or the near instant and deafening sound of thunder. It was what he saw above the gate, carved into the massive stones of the city wall. The sigil of the city, right where he knew it would be. The sigil, lit by the lightnings flash, stopped him like he had been shot dead, and for a moment he thought he just might be.
Impossible. I cannot be here. Not here. His brain, his mind, his very being balked at the sight. It can’t be. That would mean I am on Creedeth, and this is Kreeh. That is not possible.
Kreeh, a city he had not seen since he was five. Being there meant that he was, somehow, on a different continent, and more then 15,000 miles from where he had been.
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He knew he could hike, maybe 20 in a day, on a good day. With the rain, that was more like 10-15 if he was lucky, and depending on the roads and conditions. Asti′ret had five continents, and he had been on Draakeeth in the old parts of Aakeer. To now be on Creedeth. His mind leapt to what had happened, the fight with the ancient Tiger-Wolf, the Merrg as he called himself. The word popped into his mind again. Magic. He rejected it, shaking his head to clear it, and forcing himself to move forward again. There had to be an explanation, and he would find it.
Another lightning strike, and he saw it again, even clearer. There was no mistaking the city now, that sigil, the crest of Kreeh. It’s crossed crimson blades, the image of the holy flame in cerulean blue behind them. There was no other crest like it on the planet. Making where he was as unmistakable as it was impossible.
As he walked, forcing himself to move towards the impossible, his legs finally refused to cooperate and gave out, refusing to move him forward and causing him to drop to his knees. He turned his head up to the heavy clouds, the rain pouring down on him, the lighting flashing in rapid succession. He took off his helm and cried out. His tears mixing with the rain as it ran through the fur of his face. Kreeh. Home. After so long. Tears of happiness to see his home, a place that was all but a distant memory to him, but also tears of fear and sadness. How could he be here save by magic? What of his family he sent here? What of Kef, left behind in Aakeer?
#
Pulling himself back together after a moment, he levered himself up, put on his helm, and continued his approach. The rain lessening as he approached the gate and hailed the guards. “Ho! I am a traveler seeking shelter, food, and rest. I can pay my way in barter, trade, labor, or currency, assuming an exchange is open.” It felt strange to speak a language he hadn’t spoken in more than 30 years. Yet it came to him as if he’d never stopped speaking it. Another concern, to add to the questions of how he could possibly be where he was, but that was things to think about later.
“Ho traveler. Approach slowly and state your name.” He couldn’t tell which of the guards spoke.
They were cautious, but only had a hand on their sword hilt. He knew there would be at least a half dozen archers above with him in their sights. Not that their arrows would have even scratched his armor. “I am known as Jassen Jeesic.” Coming to a stop a few feet from the guards. The rain actually reducing to a light drizzle in the shadow of the city walls.
“How long do you intend to stay?” Asked the guard on his left, the other moving to his right side, just as he expected them to. He knew this procedure. Knew it well enough that he knew its weaknesses, and should he choose, they wouldn’t have stood a chance. The guards were wolves, also what he expected. Most of the guards would be canines of some form here. Creedeth was dominated by canine species.
“I do not know. I am more than capable of paying my way, and should I decide to make Kreeh my home, I will be sure to see the city commission. I have not been in this part of the world in a very long time, and for now, I seek only a few days rest while I take stock, perhaps look for some work, and more importantly, get dry and resupply. I have been on the road for many days now.”
Nodding to his compatriot. “Very well. You know this city. Do you know it’s rules?”
“I would assume that they have not changed much. No weapon may be drawn within the city walls unless in self defense, and it had best be that. Best practice is to check most weapons with the armory, which, unless things have changed greatly is closed at the moment, but is just inside the wall.”
“That is correct. How do you know the laws here so well?”
“As I said. I have been here in the past, but it has again been a very long time. However, cities like Kreeh do not change quickly. A city doesn’t last if it abandons what works.”
“Very true. You may pass, but you’ll likely find that only the mid and lower end Inn’s have space at this hour.”
“All the better. They’ll have better beer and more interesting women.”
Grinning. “True at that.” Standing aside and motioning to enter the city, the other guard returning to his station.
#
Passing through the city gates, even the drizzle stopped as he passed through the tunnel in the massive wall that surrounded the city. When he had estimated their height before, he knew now that he was way off. These walls were more than 75 meters tall. Well over 100 at the towers, and the south wall was taller still.
He was caught in a moment's memory as he walked, remembering the view out across the fields from atop the southern tower, the highest point on the wall at 220 meters, other than the palace at the north Eastern wall. Tall enough that you can see over the western wall, and tall enough it would be shrouded by the low, heavy clouds, pouring out their contents on the city. Another reason, beyond just the fact of where he had been to where he was now, that he did not recognize the city until the lightning revealed the sigil.
He stepped into the light of the city streets and paused as his eyes adjusted. Kreeh was one of the few places he knew that embraced science, even taught it. It was why it was so prosperous. They did not shirk the learning of the ancients, but embraced it and those who hunted the depths of the ruins for new bits of technology. That meant that they also used electricity, and despite the rain, which had started to pick up again as he walked, exiting the tunnel and entering the city, meant that the streets were lit. At least in some places.
He asked the lone inner guard to point him to towards the inn’s. He couldn’t be sure that they hadn’t moved to a different part of the city. They hadn’t. A few more minutes of walking and he came to a slightly more dimly lit section of the city, the lights either burned out, or more distantly spaced. Often a bit of both.
He made his way down the street looking for the sign of an Inn with a vacancy. Stopping finally, a good third of the way down the street, he found himself in front of an inn with their vacancy sign lit. He looked up at the sign. The Tiger-Wolf Tavern and Inn. When he saw where he was, he smiled to himself with a bark of laughter, he couldn’t help it.
Not only was he home in Kreeh, but the only inn with a vacancy, as he looked down the street, was the TW. Not that it surprised him. The TW was the largest, or had been, in that part of the city. He took the steps, and felt a sudden shock at the memory again at how tall those steps had seemed to a cub of 5. Now he could have taken them all in a single, effortless hop.
Stopping again at the door, he listened to the sounds of the Tavern within. Different, and yet so familiar, tickling his memory. He looked through the window for a moment, then opened the door and stepped inside. As he entered the TW, thoughts of, where he was, what had happened, what he had seen, and how he had gotten there, warred in his head. How, as much as he wanted to refuse it, magic was a real possibility as an explanation for how he could be standing where he was in that moment.
Closing the door behind him, he pushed those thoughts aside, refusing to lean on that answer. He didn’t know how it happened, what it was. Sure. Magic was a possibility, but that didn’t make it any more true. He only knew that he didn’t know, didn’t understand, but damn it, he would figure it out, and actually, with the library of Kreeh, if he could get in, might actually provide a real chance to figure it out.
With a deep breath, the familiar and yet alien scents of the Tiger-Wolf hitting him, and still dripping from the rain, he headed towards the bar.