Adam walks up the path through the dark forest. The green moon hanging overhead and the whispering winds echoing through the wood. He can still smell the burnt flesh and blood from the battle. After walking for who knows how long, he finally reaches the top of the hill, and the forest opens up. He sees a large clearing opening up into the flood plains of a great black river. Grey fogs roll up the riverbanks trying to drag the earth into its invisible domain. He sees lights on and across the river.
“That looks like the city that guard captain was explaining earlier,” he thinks.
He follows the road down the flood plains and eventually reaches the river’s banks. Small flowers of white and blue glow in the darkness and bugs emitting green light can be seen traveling from flower to flower.
Adam looks at it with wonder.
Unfortunately, one of the bugs is trapped by a flower with bluish-white color.
It struggles for dear life but finally succumbs to the flower. It is still.
Shaking himself of this reverie, he follows the road up the river. He eventually sees some bright lights piercing the fog on this side of the bank.
He walks forward and hears shouts of joy and merriment.
“Are they really city guards,” Adam thinks.
He sees about ten guards talking merrily and drinking alcoholic beverages in front of a large stone guard house and metal gate that guards a stone bridge.
“Let’s see if these guys are going to cause me trouble,” Adam thinks.
As he approaches the guard house, someone says, “Attention!”
Soon, the guards stop drinking and talking. A silence pervades the night.
Adam keeps on walking toward the guards.
A guard captain wearing a distinctive cape makes his way through the crowd and stands in front of the guards with his sword by his side.
“Who are you? State your name and occupation, Traveler,” he says.
“You can call me Travis, my good Sir. Unfortunately, on my way here I was attacked by cultists who claimed to worship the Lord of Luminous Mysteries further down this road. Luckily, Captain Jackson and his squad sacrificed themselves to save me. I don’t have much memory before the attack I’m afraid.,” Adam says.
“You lost your memory,” the guard captain says.
“Yes, Sir,” Adam replies.
“Captain, do you think he is lying?” one of the guardsmen asks.
“Yeah, he might a wanted fugitive or a cultist himself,” says another guard.
“Quit your yapping,” the captain says waving them off.
“Travis, what do you remember about the Great Pantheon?” he asks Adam.
“Sorry,” Adam replies, “I don’t remember anything.”
“Then repeat the lines that I say, Travis,” the captain says grimly.
He then begins his chant.
“Praise Mighty Pas!
Omnipotent and Almighty!
The Shepherd of the Weak,
The Destroyer of the Proud,
The Leader of the Great Pantheon.”
Adam then repeats back the lines to the guard captain.
The captain careful observes Adam’s face and body while Adam is chanting and a few minutes after he finishes.
“It looks like he isn’t a heretic,” one of the guards murmurs behind the captain.
The captain slaps Adam’s back with a smile and says, “It looks like you’re not a cultist, kid.”
He then turns his face toward the guards behind him and says, “Aidan, Audrey, go down the road to find the bodies of our comrades and those heretics.
“Yes Sir!!” they both reply.
“As for you,” he looks back at Adam, “You will be in a cell for tonight and after we confirm your story and check your background, we will let you into the city.”
“Okay,” Adam says.
“Follow me,” the captain says.
Adam follows the captain. Passing through the throng of guards, Adam is led to the large stone guardhouse. Passing through the metal door, he sees several different types of swords, spears, axes, and other weapons hanging on the walls as well as metal armor. Bright yellow mage light illumines the room. The floor is made of solid wood while the ceiling is made of white stone.
Adam is then led to a flight of stairs that head underground and once the metal door at the bottom is opened by the captain, Adam can see rows and rows of cells. Metal bars and dirty sheets can be seen. The smell is not terrible but unpleasant. He sees one man in a cell on the left. He is in rags, beggar’s clothes.
“These are the prison cells we use to house criminals for non-violent offences. You won’t be held here. Your cell will be right around the corner,” the captain says.
Nodding, Adam follows the captain.
Turning around the corner, they arrive at a hallway with three rooms on either side.
“This is where we house political criminals. Luckily, the political situation in the city is still somewhat stable so we only used these rooms to house individuals like yourself who lost their identification materials due to robbers on the highways. Make yourself comfortable,” the captain says.
“Thanks,” Adam says and heads inside the room.
The door closes.
Adam then falls upon the cozy bed. He has been walking all night and even fought for his life. He falls into a blissful sleep. His consciousness surrounded in darkness.
A beam of light breaks the darkness.
“Adam…”
“Adam…”
“Wake up, Adam.”
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I open my eyes.
I see a man with brown hair and a long beard. He is frowning.
“Get ready for school, Adam. We have much to discuss,” he says.
“Yes, Father,” I say.
I call him Father, but he is not my Father. My Father died of cholera with Mother weeping at the bedside.
Father leaves the room and I am now alone again.
I get up from my bed and get ready for school. After I get ready, I head down the stairs to the dining room and den where that man is reading his newspaper.
A servant has already both our breakfasts. He breakfast is beside him on his coffee table in the den while mine is on the dining room table.
Eggs, bacon, toast lathered in butter, and orange juice with water.
A standard American breakfast.
I start eating.
“Do you think you will be ready for school?” he asks me.
“I believe I am,” I say in reply, “Why won’t I be?”
“Do you remember what I told you before?” he asks me again.
“Yes,” I reply, “You said that St. John’s will be my preview of the real world. I can’t imagine being much worse off than those pampered boys and girls. I don’t think they ever learned what it was like to starve for a few days and beg out in the streets for scraps people don’t care about.”
“HA! HA! HA!” he laughs.
Calming himself down, he says, “There are times where I doubt you will succeed in live, but that has only strengthened my resolve to mold you into the perfect man. Don’t worry. All those kids are lying demons and monsters wearing human skin. If you show any weakness, they will rip you apart.”
I sigh.
“Also, Son,” he says sarcastically, “I have made a wager.”
I realize this was what he wanted to discuss with me before leaving for school.
“What kind of wager?” I ask.
Then, taking out a folder from his suitcase at the side of his chair, he hands me a picture of a woman with black eyes and dark hair. Her white skin like that of porcelain.
“Make her leave the school. You can use any method you like that does not involve murder,” he says.
“What?” I say in response.
“You heard me right,” he says now with a big smile, “I don’t care if you have to paint her as a slut and soil her reputation as long as you don’t kill then everything is fine.”
I look at the picture again. Her black eyes devoid of any soul or light.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Adam suddenly awakens due to the sudden knocking of the doors.
He stumbles out of bed and tidying himself a bit he opens the door.
It is the guard captain.
“Hello there, Travis,” he says, “We were able to confirm the bodies. Thank you for telling us about our comrades’ sacrifice.”
He bows to Adam.
“It is fine, Sir,” Adam says.
Looking at Adam again, the captain says, “We were able to find a convoy nearby. However, it looks like they were attacked by cultists before Captain Jackson and his squad could come to their aid, so they were slaughtered.”
Adam nods.
“I believe I might have been a part of that convoy, but I lost my memory after their attack,” Adam says.
“Right, I was thinking that as well given the clothing you’re wearing,” the captain responds.
He then continues, “Unfortunately, those heretics destroyed anything of value and any identifying marks on the convoy so I was not able to find your identity; however, we did find this amongst the dead bodies.”
The captain pulls out an envelope with a red seal on the back. There are instructions on the front stating that it should given to branch manager of the Central Union Bank in Merchant’s Rest.
He hands it to Adam.
“I believe this is yours, good Sir,” he says to Adam.
“I do not recognize the insignia on that red seal. Maybe someone at the Central Union Bank might know who sealed this envelope,” he continues.
Adam takes it and says with a smile, “Would you mind sparing me some gold for allowing you and your soldiers to loot my soldiers.”
“When did they become your guards?” the captain asks sarcastically.
Adam and the guard captain stare at each other intensely.
“Fine, fine,” the captain says waving his hand, “Since you informed us about our comrades’ sacrifice, I will give you five silvers.”
“Five gold,” Adam responds.
“Hah,” the captain says, “Did you forget the value of the currency. One gold is ten silvers. That’s fifty silvers your asking from me!”
“I am quite sure that all of the weapons and armor were worth more than that,” Adam says.
“That’s assuming they are your men, Sir,” the captain responds.
“They weren’t yours to begin with,” Adam responds, “Who would a judge listen too more a mere guard captain or a noble.”
“How about one gold then,” the captain says.
“Three gold,” Adam responds.
“One gold and five silvers,” the captain says.
“Two gold plus some advice regarding cultists,” Adam says extending his hand.
The captain looks at the hand pouts for a minute, but eventually shakes Adam’s hand.
“Fine,” the captain says, “First, let me get the two gold.”
He leaves the room and returns with a bag of silvers. He hands it to Adam.
“Here are twenty silvers,” the captain says to Adam.
He continues, “After hearing your story, those group of fanatics will definitely try to harass or slay you.”
“How would they know my identity,” Adam asks.
“Their cult specializes in knowledge acquisition and divination. Using mystical methods, they will be able to track you down,” the captain says.
“Okay,” Adam responds
“It looks like I will need to expand my research topics to include mysticism and divination and countermeasures to these in particular,” he thinks.
“I suggest you join either a branch of the city government or one of the many guilds in the city for protection against those fanatics. There is always strength in numbers and they will teach you how to defend yourself as well,” the captain says.
“That sounds reasonable although I wish to have more freedom in order to investigate why I came to this world,” Adam thinks.
“Do you know which group would be the most knowledgeable about obscure topics?” Adam asks.
The captain pauses for a minute to think and says, “I believe the Church of Gnosis which runs the North Library will be what you are looking for; however, their entry requirements include translating old Derak into Baudrenese on the spot. You can also try Merchant’s Rest’s Tower of Sorcery or the Technical Institute if that Church does not accept you as an acolyte.”
“Thank you for your advice, Sir,” Adam says.
“Please, Travis, call me Darrell,” Captain Darrell says.
Adam then leaves happily with the letter and twenty silvers in hand while the captain waves goodbye.
“Wait!” Darrell exclaims.
Adam looks back.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I just wanted to let you know that the bodies at the convoy did not look like they were killed by those Luminous fanatics. It looks like they all committed suicide.”
“Really?” Adam asks back.
“Yes, so be careful. Join an organization for protection,” Captain Darrell says.
“Okay, thanks again,” Adam says waving goodbye.
Adam leaves the large stone guard house and gets in line to enter the city.
He looks at the large metal gate and looks at the sign next to the gateway.
WELCOME TO MERCHANT’S REST!
After thirty minutes, he passes through the gate and looks at the city at the end of the bridge. Many steeples and spires break the skyline with a prominent grey tower standing out amongst the varied colorful buildings he could see. Floating magic lights can be seen afar off and large factories powered by waterwheels can be seen ever turning. Lamps powered by mage light dot the stone bridge at regular intervals while people of various classes and nations walk across the bridge to and fro from the city. Massive galleons and sailing ships of all kinds can be seen at the port of the city and sailing from and out to the sea via the river delta.
“This really is another world,” Adam thinks.
Steeling himself, he pushes through the madding crowd and heads into the city.
The smog from blacksmiths and other various industries enters his nostrils while the shouts and grunts of laborers, the debates between religious clerics, and the shouting of venders give Adam a glimpse at the spirit of the city. The colors of various shops and buildings pass him buy as he walks toward the center of the city.
After hours of asking for directions and meandering through myriad winding roads and alleyways, Adam is currently in front of the Central Union Bank.
He enters the door. The lobby is wide and spacious. People from middle-class to aristocratic backgrounds can be seen be waiting in line and being served by bank tellers.
He then approaches a bank teller at the help desk.
“Excuse me, Madam, may I have a word with you?” Adam asks.
“Yes, dear customer, what is it?” she asks.
“May you please give this letter to the branch manager of this bank as soon as possible?” he asks.
The bank teller looks at the letter and nodding her head in confirmation she says, “Actually, Sir Morgan has been expecting your visit this week. You can meet him right now.”
“That would be wonderful, Madam,” he says.
“This is strange,” Adam thinks, “Why is a prominent banker paying this much attention to the owner of this body? Something is not right.”
The bank teller then leads Adam through the crowd of bourgeoisie and aristocrats and up two flights of stairs and down a dim hallway that leads to a large wooden door.
The bank teller knocks.
“Come in,” a gruff voice says.
Opening the door, a man with a cigar in his mouth, a monocle on his right eye, and a black business tuxedo says, “Welcome, you may have a seat.”
The level of authority emanating from his grey hair and mustache and sharp blue eyes causes Adam to almost kneel unconsciously. Deciding not to get on his bad side, Adam sits on the chair facing Sir Morgan.
“Leave us,” Morgan says to the bank teller.
“Yes, Sir Morgan,” she replies meekly.
She closes the door behind.
Now, only Adam and Morgan are in the room and the silence between them is palpable. After a minute of silence, Sir Morgan says, “Let me cut straight to the chase. How much do you know about the Black Dawn Society, boy?”
“What kind of messed up shit did I drag myself into,” Adam thinks.