"Some people claim that The Stand of Copperpoint Bridge - on the very tip of the crook of Einahel - was the first major event of the conflict. Well, I disagree. That is simply not the case, because while all other actors within the conflict would have been there with relative assuredness, there was no way of predicting my presence before I arrived. As such, my arrival should be the first major event! Of course, I was at the centre of both mentioned events. To be quite honest, I would simply prefer that my first recognized historical impact was one that was more dignified than what The Stand truly was. I at the very least demand that my arrival is the first event written of in any biographies, though!" - Excerpt from the personal journal of August Alder, found in chapter two of Ylina's written half-biography, 'Early life of August Alder - Chapter two: Arrival' for more information on 'The Stand', see chapter one of the same book.

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

The Stranger was... Strange. In a city as large as Copper-Point, it was normally very hard to judge whether or not someone was a stranger. But this... man? Was simply too different for him to be anything else. Had he been in the city for any longer than a day, he would have already been an attraction to be seen. That assumption had been confirmed when three separate friends of hers had told her to hurry to the park to see the stranger. His skin was not brown or black, as was normal, and neither did it have the yellow tint of those in the far west. No, it was white, akin to bone and teeth, and his hair was pale as faded straw, or white gold, or the slightly yellow ash of burnt Ulma’odre wood, with eyes some shade between grey and blue.

But stranger still than all of that was the height of his frame. He stood freakishly tall, at least a head taller than any other person she had ever seen, and two over any normal person, with long, long legs, and long everything else. But only one long.

And, perhaps most importantly of all, he was powerful beyond compare, because she could sense not even the barest hint of his cultivation.

Well… he was just sitting there, in the park. Had been for hours. Maybe… maybe she could take a closer look?

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

August had known almost immediately that he was in another world. He liked to imagine that it was his instinct for people which allowed him to ascertain the immediate truth through their minute behavoral diffrences. Of course, if he had to be completely honest, then perhaps the one-and-a-half-metre-tall people adults gawking at him was an indication. There was also a slight chance that the very large wagon-pulling lizards were also a hint. He had, however, never had a particularly intimate relationship with ‘truth’ as a concept, and as such he was more than comfortable pretending to have a greater degree of competence than was actually the case.

Oh, and the many halflings around him having the peculiar capability to heave many hundred kilos of cargo onto their backs was also something of a surprise.

August had then begun to stroll throughout the city meant for people three-fourths his height in an attempt to both learn of the culture of the people, and perhaps gleam something of the economics and history of whereever he was. As far as he had gathered from the many wagons being pulled along the main street and the walkways above the highway, the city was a major trade hub. In the middle of the walkway, he then cast his gaze down the road as far as his eyes could see, under the guise of a simple tourist. Which, he supposed, was exactly what he was.

Far down the road, he saw a bridge in the distance, which seemed to stretch for kilometres to his meagre sight. It would of course be strange to only take a single glance, so he leaned against the railing, allowing himself to be overwhelmed by the semi-medieval city for a moment. He gazed with fascination at the architecture of the buildings along the road, grand in a way which clearly indicated prosperity sufficient for extravagance, also known as culture. It seemed that all houses on the street only had three stone sorts to choose between. The manors were mashed closely together, leaving only a little room for roofed side streets, courtyard entrances, and open-air streets leading to the rest of the city. The columns on the façades were tall in place of the width they clearly craved, but seemigly could not afford. They were, in fact, so closely packed with their neighbour buildings that large sections of the street seemed to be a sidewalk, protected from the dangers of the main street by the coulumbs, until someone eventually decided to be different and have a flat façade.

The stones themselves were either a pale white with a reddish hue, like the very edge of a blooming pink rose, or they were a rock not far from sandstone, with the last kind being a form of marble with streaks of bright silver. There seemed to be a clear hierarchy among the materials, with the most opulent buildings made of silver-streaked marble, followed by the soft colours of the rose petal, with the least prestigious houses being made of sandstone. Oddly enough, rose-rock seemed the most common of the three, with silver-streak stone logically being the rarest. A solid middle class, even among the rich, it seemed.

As August stood there, he closed his eyes and decided to simply listen to the sounds from below. With the heavily burdened wheels over smooth stone, the many noises of varied creatures, and the chatter of merchants as they travelled the road beneath, he felt the new world wash over him in a way he had not allowed before then. He needed to integrate himself into the world if he wanted any chance of success while using his preferred conflict resolution method; Trickery and Deceit.

But that would come later. For now, he took a deep breath, and relaxed. The city smelt clean, the air fresh in a way he had never before felt, the wagons were in lanes clearly based on speed, and the day was young with plenty of opportunities to learn. After all, what fun would a new world be if he never attempted to experience it, and only tried to cheat it for all that it was worth? No, he would enjoy the culture as well.

Of course, just as he opened his eyes and moved to continue on his path, something curious caught his gaze. Many of the buildings, especially the ones of rose rock, had large portions of stone which had seemingly weathered storms and summers for far shorter amounts of time than other sections, which seemed rather freshly patched. It was not unlike what he had seen in Berlin, specifically in the areas repaired after the war. A recent war, then, and while he was no general, he could guess that it was an unfortunate sign when the enemy was tearing apart the main street.

But no matter how interesting he found the concept of a society that was still reliant on animal-pulled wagons simultaneously being capable of causing damage akin to semi-modern artillery, it did not change the fact that he had halted on a heavily trafficked walkway, and soon enough he was punished for his curiosity.

What seemed at first to be a harsh tackle to the back of his knees, which almost brought him down, was soon revealed to be nothing more than a little girl running into him from behind. Of course, said little girl was swiftly mocked by the other identical girl behind her, who had seemingly been chasing her immediately prior to their collision.

“What are you doing, stupid? Why are you falling all over the place, dummy? Why’d you run into that lantern pole, idiot?” The young child crowed in smug satisfaction at the opportunity to mock the sister who had been beating her at a race just moments before.

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT! It was the idiot who put a lamppost in the middle of the walkway we run on!” She vehemently denied any smidgen of her own weakness before her sister as she rubbed her hurt elbow. Well, he was wearing dark pants.

“Well,” August cut in with a playful smirk as he knelt down to help her upright. “thank you for absolving me of all blame, seeing as I am neither a lamppost nor the ‘idiot who put it there’, since there is no 'it'. Still, it seems that in my heart of hearts, I still feel some guilt, so please allow me to help you to stand.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Both sisters stared at his extended hand for only a moment, before their dark eyes snapped back to him as a whole. They first squinted, then turned their heads, before they, still in perfect unison, opened their mouths and spoke.

“Why are you so big?”

“Why are you so weird-looking?”

Truly, what a joy children were.

Before he had the chance to answer, he was interrupted when a man came running after the two sisters, a… sandwich? In hand. He ran at a speed that was honestly fantastic, reaching at least the realms of Usain Bolt with what seemed to be little effort. Even more wonderous was the fact that most of the surrounding people transformed from average pedestrians into whirling cyclones of cloth - some faster than others - to let him pass. It was clearly only the norm to move at a human level when time permitted.

“Me being distracted by getting food - for the two of you might I add - is not an acceptable excuse to run off.” The man said as his eyes flicked from one to the other.

“But Dad! You don’t get it, we saw this weirdo, and wanted to talk to him!” The girl on the ground blatantly lied... Which was a choice he could respect, even if the lie was poorly chosen given how strange it would have been for her to crash into someone she was actively running towards

“Stop calling people weirdos, or being rude in general, Inaeli, especially people you’ve just disturbed.” The man glared down at his daughter, before turning towards August, his mouth open and ready to presumably apologize on his daughter’s behalf. Then his mouth closed, and he simply stared at August.

“… I-… Why are you so tall?” The apple certainly fell close to the tree.

However, someone saw an opportunity of their own before August even had a chance to respond - and hopefully use the man’s embarrassed state to draw forth information. Namely his very own children, who quickly seized the moment to run around their father, crowing happily with questions on why he was behaving so very rudely. August would have been annoyed at his own missed chance, had it not been thoroughly entertaining to see an adult man panic slightly at the prospect of setting a bad example for his children.

“I wasn’t being rude, I just know him, it’s an old joke we have between us. We’re childhood friends, you see, and I wanted you to meet with him today.” The man said, a rather clear lie, however, one slightly believable given his children’s unsure expressions.

August considered revealing the lies of their father, his natural instinct as a teen telling him to undermine adults at every turn, even if he was already eighteen, and technically one of them. However, the fact was that a debt of gratitude owed to him from their father was worth more than one from two five-year-olds.

“Indeed, it has been quite some time since your father and I knew each other well - back in our youth in fact.” August chuckled, presenting a forlorn expression on his face, one of fond memories long since passed, “And yet, as I stand with him now, it feels no different than the very day we first met... With the exception of a slight ache in my knees, of course.”

They scrutinized their father’s face closely, suspicion clear. “Then why haven’t we met him yet?” One asked their father, while the other - not-Inaeli - seemed to realize that their greatest chance to catch their father was not in questioning him, but in questioning a possible stranger. “And you! Why is today special?”

August smirked at her, raising an eyebrow mockingly. “Well, as flattering as it is that you think such a-” Their father was holding fine sandwiches, ones with a level of quality beyond that of food others with their type of clothing would typically hold, based on his short observations of the city. “- basic question would trick me - an accomplished-” People earlier, while all superhuman in their speed, had moved at different speeds, showing clear power progression of some sort. “- relic seeker, I will have to disappoint, and tell you that-” And he did not have a sandwich for himself, which, when combined with their excitement for running, to the point of risking punishment, showed that it was their physical accomplishment and that they desperately wished to revel in it due to their childish pride. “- I sadly do know of your recent breakthrough. I have simply been indisposed in the north as of late, but now, I return with both gifts and relics, prepared to meet my dear friend’s darling children. Even if I was unprepared for them to call me a weirdo.”

The bit involving his profession as a relic seeker had been pure conjecture, really. And meant to appeal to their sense of adventure in order to distract them from further - and presumably more personal - questions he could not answer. And it had seemingly worked, given the hero worship of the twins and the baffled happiness of their father.

“Will you come with us?” “What’re the northern mountains like?” “Why do we always have to meet uncle Ulare and not you?”

August quickly raised his hands before further questions could be launched, and to his honest surprise, they listened. Immediately. How strange. Why would children he did not know obey him instantly? especially these children?

“I will sadly be preoccupied for the rest of my day - I need to ascertain the functions of my acquired relics, and perhaps see if any are suitable for children.” He gave them a conspiratorial wink, to which their eyes shined with excitement. “However, that will take significant amounts of time, and I will as such only arrive at some time within the evening. Now, I will need to have a word with your father under four eyes, and then I shall be on my way.” He considered for a moment, before deciding that a long-lost uncle in all but blood would be overtly affectionate, and ruffled their hair as he passed them by.

Soon enough, he was alone with their father. The man was, as far as August could tell, average in all aspects. From his appearance to his clothes - which consisted of grey pants, a turquoise tunic, and a long black coat, which seemed to be made of linen, and very airy with its wide sleeves.

“I’m sorry, but are you actually a long-lost friend I can’t remember?” The young - perhaps mid-twenties - father chuckled, appearing rather amazed at his little performance.

“No, I am not. Just terribly clever is all.” August smirked, a bit of a habit he needed to kill. She had always said it made him look terribly smug. Of course, she also later admitted it to be very enticing, so perhaps there was a certain charm to it.

“Now, while my satchel houses no actual relics, it does house all of my current worldly possessions, none of which I am prepared to part with for an admittedly funny charade. As such, I will have to request that you acquire something which I can tearfully part with.” August grinned at him, causing the man to smile with only slight embarrassment.

“Yeah, I think I can manage something, aloiele, and thank you for going out of your way for me like this. I can only imagine what your time is actually worth” The man grinned at him.

“No trouble at all, considering that ones time is only truly worth something to oneself when you enjoy how you spend it. And I very much enjoy a harmless bit of trickery. Now, would you care to tell me where an average member of the populous would commonly find their first cultivation - our term for ‘the growth’ - manual? I am currently travelling as far as I can, you see, searching for knowledge of cultures for a book about the world. And what is more culturally significant than the common person’s cultivation technique? I intend to ask if I could receive a copy.”

“Oh, of course. The district centre is that way, they should give you one easily since everyone can get a copy when they turn five. A bit late since everyone’s already gotten a couple of stages by then, but fair enough,” he gestured vaguely to the other side of the walkway as he spoke, “There’s a huge park right by it, so you should be able to find it. Oh, and our house is on Elthla street, number 26. Just ask around and you’ll find it quickly.” He turned to walk away, but August stopped him just before he could.

“If you would not mind explaining, then what does ‘aloiele’ mean? I am, as you remember and can clearly see, not from this area.”

“Oh, right…” he looked to consider it for a moment, such a basic concept was it. “It’s what an adult calls another adult they don’t know them and can’t sense their cultivation. There are a lot of them in high society from what little I’ve heard, but aloiele and benogir are the commonly used ones. Uh, benogir is for anyone you can sense. At least to us commoners, no idea what it means to the nobles.”

That was… strange. Not the titles, but the fact that they apparently applied to him. Because he, to his admitedly meagre knowledge, didn’t have a grand cultivation granting him superhuman abilities… he didn’t have a cultivation! The father mentioned that everyone had at least a couple stages or whatnot when they received their first manual, meaning that it was also partly a passive process. Which meant that he was possibly the only adult in the world without a cultivation. Which meant that everyone would sense nothing resembling a cultivation within him, and immediately assume him to be far more powerful than them.

That would be very useful indeed.

August began to walk through the beautiful, lively, and slightly alien city towards the park. After all, the only requirement of his brand new plan which remained unfurfilled was an unwitting wingman.

One who, he was sure, would be easily found if he simply waited in the mentioned park for some time until, eventually, someone truly too curious for their own good would come along.

He whistled as he hurried his steps. It would be an entertaining day after all, and it would allow him to begin his journey towards magic on his very first day.

That, and he had always enjoyed a bit of harmless trickery and deceit. It was time to swindle the state on his very first day inside their country.