"Amidst the tranquil lake of shimmering waters, a celestial jewel resides—a city adorned with sun-kissed stone, a coiled God around his throne, a city of beauty and color, bathed in sun and gold, it is the Jewel of Eritia.” -Quote from the “Travels of Ilsara.”
Day 2:
I decided to start a journal cataloging my time here. I haven't found any clues about Tommy yet, so I'm going to search for rumors or hints in the city.
Nima and Hasen offered me a permanent job in exchange for three copper a day, food, and a place to sleep. I don't know much about the economy of this world, but it sounded like a good deal to me. I can practically buy bread with just one copper. I'm used to being poor, so three copper feels like I'm living the easy life.
I accompanied Hasen to retrieve the sunken canoe and get his money back from the guy who messed up the repair. I never realized how large and scarred my boss's hands were until he threatened the boat patcher for a refund. It didn’t take long to convince him after that. As we paddled away on a new canoe, he gave me a rundown of the city while we paddled through the canals.
Tenalan is divided into five districts each ruled by their own noble family. They all answer to the king who lives just outside the city in a palace that can be seen from anywhere in the city. Every road and canal revolves around the Sacred Precinct where I saw the giant temple on my first day. Hasen told me the inn is in the Southwest district where a lot of the working class resides.
Once we got back, Nima helped me draw a map. I was never much of an artist, but I could sketch well enough. This entire city is essentially a man-made floating island in the middle of a lake. I have to applaud the architectural prowess because these Builders she mentioned must have been mad. Who in their right mind looks at a lake and thinks, "Oh, let's build right in the middle of it?”
Day 3:
I got so caught up in map-making that I forgot to write about magic. It's everywhere. It was almost hidden in plain sight when I first arrived because everyone here treats it so casually. When magic is as natural as breathing, it's no wonder that glowing auras and veins don't prompt a second glance.
Now that I know about it, I can't unsee it. Workers haul heavy cargo while their bodies glow with blue veins. Farmers surround their hands with auras of light to enrich the land and enrich crops. Hasen demonstrated that he is an Enhancer, someone who uses magic to enhance their body. He could effortlessly lift two barrels of beer as if they were light as a feather!
I don't know what I am. Nima found it strange when I said I didn't know how to use magic. I tried to backtrack by explaining that my small village was very closed off and didn't practice it. Despite my weak excuse, she tried to instruct me on casting magic. The only problem is... they're really bad teachers. Going to an innkeeptress and a chef for magic advice isn’t the best way to learn. The only advice I received was that "I'll be able to create or do anything when it begins to feel right."
I gave myself a headache trying to make it "feel right." I'm going to finish this entry and go to sleep.
Day 4:
The entry was ruined because I vomited all over it during a drinking contest. I repeat, never engage in a drinking contest with Elves. They may appear slender and thin enough to have a low tolerance, but it's all a facade! I will never touch a drop of Elven liquor again.
Day 5:
After recovering from my hangover, I was practically dragged to the market to get new clothes. My drinking escapade had pushed my dirty clothes beyond acceptable limits, and the disapproving looks from customers prompted Hasen to take me out to the market.
The marketplace was incredible. It wasn't quite as vast as the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, but it was... fantastical. Among the common sight of tan-skinned humans in the Western District, there was a mix of all kinds of people—human and non-human alike. Some had horns, others had tails, fangs for teeth, folded wings, skin shades of blue or purple, and eyes of various colors, and the most remarkable thing was that they all spoke the same language. I had become so used to hearing all kinds of different languages at markets it felt so foreign for everyone to perfectly understand each other.
I don't know the reason why everyone can understand each other, but after hearing Ohtli's story, I wonder if it has something to do with the Gods of this world. I'll try to pry some answers from the drunken bard after treating him to a few drinks.
Day 6:
I fell for a scam at the market. In my defense, the lizard man had an incredibly convincing pitch. I should have known that 4 copper was too much to pay for a pair of pants. Nima found it hilarious and ended up retelling the story eight times that night. Yes, I counted!
Despite laughing, she still felt bad for me and ended up giving me some old clothes from her son, who had enlisted in the city's military. He was training at a nearby camp but hadn't returned home in a while. It was a kind gesture, and as a token of my gratitude, I sketched a small portrait of Nima.
That's how I ended up in the hands of Itzia, who relentlessly poked and prodded me with needles. I discovered that the reason she always had bandages on her fingers and was out before the dinner rush is that she's an apprentice Seamstress. Not wanting to miss the opportunity, I struck up a conversation and got to know her better. If there's one universal law I've learned from my travels, it's that work gossip transcends all boundaries. She lit up when I asked her questions about work and before long she was talking my ear off. The work drama she filled me in on was the closest thing to trashy soap opera entertainment in this world. By the end, I think she had finally warmed up to me. I only got stabbed by the needle four times throughout the whole session. That's progress!
Day 7:
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I'm still no closer to figuring out magic. The whole "making it feel right" approach hasn't been working for me. After observing Ohtli's performances for a few days, I noticed that his music has the power to influence the mood and emotions of the room. It's an intriguing form of magic, but even he couldn't provide a concrete explanation without resorting to the cliché of "imagination is key." He may have also been piss drunk and demonstrated its use by making everyone feel silly. The antics that got on in the inn after that were memorable.
Why couldn't this world be one where I instantly acquire an overpowered ability and become the prophesied Chosen One? I think reading countless manhwas and books has distorted my perception of fantasy tropes.
Do I have a harem? No, I still receive strange looks from everyone in the city (and my clothes certainly aren't helping). Do I possess any immensely powerful items? No, I have a phone that will die on me if I use it. Do I possess incredible knowledge from our modern world that would make me seem like a genius? Yes, but I dropped out of high school, so it's rather limited. Unless they want to hear about the mitochondria being the powerhouse of the cell, I'm out of luck.
I sincerely hope that Tommy had a more eventful start in this world than I did. If he ends up having a harem though, I'll have to give him a good smack.
Day 8:
I've managed to gather some valuable clues! Through my observations of the locals, I've noticed distinct characteristics and behaviors. For instance, the humans here tend to be expressive and use hand gestures while speaking. Dwarves value honesty and straightforwardness, while elves have a poetic way of speaking and tend to evade direct questions. Lizardfolk and Beastmen can be easily read through their tails and ears. I practiced what I saw with the inn’s customers going out of my way to talk with them. It didn’t matter if they looked different they were all still people going about their lives. I learned a lot from them and I marked down the interesting rumors. Here are some of the most interesting ones I discovered:
* The Dungeon beneath Tenalan is experiencing a surge in monster spawning.
* The city-state of Opanis was devastated by a tsunami caused by the Leviathan.
* The Saint of Red Sand has been defeating challengers in battle, offering their blood as a sacrifice to the Gods.
* The Heir of Lightning successfully defeated an Apostle of the Titan Cult.
* A new Saint has risen from the order of Wardens.
* The King residing under The West Mountain has acquired the First Flame.
* It is said that reaching the bottom of a Dungeon grants access to a captive Titan who can bestow blessings, answer questions, or fulfill wishes.
* A northern kingdom experienced an uprising led by the Titan cult.
One clue caught my attention: the imprisoned Titan in the Dungeon beneath the city. It's possible that this Titan may possess knowledge regarding Tommy's whereabouts. It's my most promising lead so far considering I have nothing to go off of. I'll continue my investigation and see if I can uncover more information.
Day 9:
Before I head out to the Guild to inquire about entering the Dungeon, I enjoyed a delightful breakfast prepared by the inn's family. It seems that we are growing closer, and I have a sense that I remind them of their own son. Even Itzia, the apprentice Seamstress, has been less aloof towards me lately. I’ve been thinking about a lot of my old life lately. I wonder how everyone is doing after my death. Did the funeral happen already? I hope Grandpa is regaining his strength and Alex is doing okay.
I’m filling this entry in before I head out. There’s an argument between Ohtli and Hasen going on right now. I wonder what they’re…
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Simon's pen halted mid-stroke as the sound of a heated argument erupted from the backroom. He set his journal aside, curiosity piqued, and turned his attention toward the commotion. Ohtli, the inn's resident bard, burst out of the room, followed closely by a visibly enraged Hasen.
"Get out! You're ungrateful, Ohtli. You have a good thing here, and now you're going to throw it away for booze!" Hasen's voice boomed across the common room, filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment.
Ohtli, looking disheveled and hungover, turned sharply and retorted, "I was meant for better, Hasen. I don't want to waste any more of my time in this failing inn. Yoris offered me more at his establishment, and I intend to take it."
With a scoff, Hasen retorted, "A better deal? Do you mean free booze to drown yourself in? Fine, do what you want, but don't ever come back here."
From his vantage point at the table, Simon saw that Hasen's words caused Ohtli to falter. Opening his mouth to retort, the hungover bard's resolve seemed to waver before he stormed out of the inn. However, just before leaving, Ohtli turned and delivered his parting shot in a spiteful tone, "Good luck finding a bard. No one's going to show up without entertainment. This inn has been failing for a long time, this will be the final straw."
In the wake of Ohtli's departure, the room fell into an uneasy silence. His employer stood stony-faced in the center of the common room as the door slammed shut. Nima and Itzia emerged from the kitchen, their expressions filled with concern, and hastened to help Hasen find a seat at one of the nearby tables. Simon, at a loss for words, remained seated in contemplative silence. Hasen, normally filled with vibrant energy, now sat with his head in his hands, looking more defeated than Simon had ever seen him.
"He's right. Without a bard, we're doomed," Hasen sighed, his voice laden with a weariness that tugged at Simon's heart.
"Father, you can't mean that. What about your cooking? It's some of the best in the city," Itzia interjected, attempting to reassure her father.
"She's right, dear. We'll find a way, we always have," Nima added, placing a comforting hand on Hasen's back. However, despite her words of solace, he clearly saw concern written on her face.
Although unsure of how to help, Simon felt like he had to do something for these people who had taken him in and offered him more than just a job. As he pondered Ohtli's parting words, "No one will show up without entertainment," a choice materialized in his mind—a choice that had been lingering since his first night at the inn. How long had it been since he last played an instrument or sang a song? He looked past the family at the empty stage. It was raised off the ground for everyone in the inn to clearly see it. Ohtli had played there every night but now he was gone. What if it didn’t have to be empty tonight?
A new life meant a second chance, doesn’t it? Tommy is alive somewhere in this world. I don’t have to run from music anymore.
Simon could chase it—the exhilaration of standing on a stage, feeling liberated as his guitar communicated with the crowd. The pulsating vibrations of the music coursing through his body, the rawness of his voice after a performance, and the overwhelming joy that lingered long after the last note had faded. Ohtli, despite his flaws, unknowingly reminded him of one thing. He had reawakened that desire to play buried so deep within him he thought it would never resurface again. Music was something he had cast aside after his best friend died. This was his opportunity to pick it back up and give it another shot.
As Simon rose from his creaking chair, the family's eyes fixated on him, questioningly. His heart brimmed with excitement as he smiled at the family that had embraced him. Speaking with newfound confidence, he addressed the family that had welcomed him, saying, "I can do it. Let me be your bard tonight."
The room fell into stunned silence, punctuated only by the crackling fire in the hearth. Hasen, lifting his head from his hands, looked at Simon with a mixture of surprise and hope. Itzia's eyes widened, filled with a flicker of anticipation, while Nima's worried expression transformed into back to her old self. Simon met their gazes feeling determination grow within him.
"I’m not going to let this inn fail."