He was within an ornate room.

Zan saw filigree made from gold and silver and other precious metals he could not identify; he saw oak-laid bedframes and luscious curtains; a smell of glorious incense sticks burning laying in the air, causing Zan to remember times at the temple, when the priest talked of duty and honor to the heavens; on the floor were puffy, warm rugs thick to his touch, rugs anyone would not mind sleeping upon; and then the accouterments. Everywhere Zan looked were mirrors, jewelry, lose currencies, and gems, and more yet, which he did not understand; hanging on the walls were elaborate portraits of the most well-dressed people Zan ever saw. ‘Must be royalty,’ Zan concluded; the final detail Zan saw about the room was a heavy fireplace, overlooking a study nook on an elevated platform; noticing a window, Zan walked over and peeled back the layers upon layers of heavy fabric, keeping the light out. What Zan saw nearly made him fall backward — before his eyes stretched a massive city which expanded throughout the horizon.

I’m in a tower! Zan realized. High in a tower!

Turning away from the sight for a moment, Zan hurriedly tried to think of where he could be. ‘Was there a city this large in the Kingship?’ he asked himself.

The answer was ‘no.’

Zan knew hardly anything about the economics of the country he called home. From the years he lived and from remembering how the many adults talked about society, he concluded there wasn’t any possibility this place could be within the confines of the Kingship.

If where he was, was outside the confines of the Kingship… was that even possible?

Zan recalled the Screen Master’s words. He had said something about ‘rooms leading to places’ he didn’t expect. Or so and so. He said it made travel faster. So Zan’s question was, ‘how fast?’

Pulling away from the window, Zan stumbled and nearly fell into the bed. Pulling back the curtains, he saw a distorted area, like shimmers on a hot summer day.

Staring at the void, he caught a glimpse inside. He saw shadows, trees. Zan knew right away it was the path back to the Backroads. Simulacrum had said he could only enter the Backroads from one of those white-clad special chambers. Evidently, one could re-enter the Backroads if one of these spaces were nearby. Whether that was a feature of the Backroads or a particularity known only to him, Zan did not know. He would discuss it with the Screen Master in the future.

‘Crap!’ Zan exclaimed. ‘The Screen Master! He said I couldn’t contact him in the Backroads, but what about now?’

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Zan lifted his hand to the earpiece and nearly touched the button when he heard a voice from the outside hallway. It was getting louder. Zan had the sudden idea of hiding. But where?

Spotting a closet, Zan ducked inside and closed the closet door back to the state when he found it: partially closed, some clothes littering the gap, preventing the door from fully closing.

Squeezing himself into the dark end of the closet, Zan felt the many soft, luxurious clothes against his skin. Some had perfumed scents which reminded Zan of well-to-do upperclass persons who sometimes visited his village. Taking his attention away from the clothes was the voices, who now entered the room, allowing Zan to see who the voice belonged to…

Which was a letdown, because the people were not anyone Zan recognized.

Watching from his spot, Zan saw an older man and a younger teen enter the room.

The older man spoke, “Young Master, just because you don’t want to do your lessons, does not mean you can treat your tutor with such disrespect. Honestly! Have some shame. If your father could see how you behave in his name!”

Zan saw the teen roll his eyes. He looked about his own age. Maybe a touch younger.

Done rolling his eyes, the youth said, “Yes… yeah… uh huh…” He spoke in a methodical way, confirming every half-statement uttered to him like he had heard every line and accusation a dozen times before. Talking properly, the youth eventually said, “I know, Gatson, I know!” There was a harsh quality to his tone which ended the conversation, though only for a moment as each side prepared a counter-response.

Beginning his response harshly — Zan would guess too harshly, if this boy was anything like himself — the man the boy called ‘Gatson,’ said, “I’ve heard all that before. We’ve heard it before, haven’t we?! You need to smarten up, young man, because the council will not tolerate your little shenanigans much longer. Time to grow up and —” but Gatson ended his verbal barrage. Continuing, but now in a softer, albeit still hard tone of voice, said, “Stay in your room. Think about the life you want to lead, young master, and when we try this tomorrow, maybe you will listen?”

Gatson then left the room. He didn’t slam the door, but gently closed it, taking care to make hardly any noise when it shut. To Zan, it would have seemed preferable to endure the harsh yells. With screaming anger, one at least knew where everyone stood. On soft power, the conditions changed. What did it mean when anger mixed with softness?

With the boy alone in his room, Zan wondered how he would escape. ‘Why?!’ he rattled to himself, ‘did I not immediately leap back into the shimmering void of the Backroads? Now I could be stuck here for a very long time. Who even knows if the portal will remain open…!’ The thought, the very idea, chilled him; what if he was stuck here, all alone in this tower, with no allies? How long would he last before they discovered him? Surely not long, surely—

“You can come out now,” the boy said, near the fireplace, wiping away tears.

Zan froze. In body, spirit. Mind. His body refused to react. Who was he talking to?

The boy did not repeat himself. He surely could not have meant him. As in, Zan. He… no, impossible. Zan had done nothing to disturb the boy’s room. How would he possibly know?!

Minutes passed, or maybe it was seconds? Who knew? Not Zan, whose heart beat like a lightning bolt. Sudden, hard, and white hot.

Turning slightly to the closet, the boy again spoke. “Yeah, I mean you… you can come out of the closet.”