[Chapter 7 - A Quiet Arrival]
Northgaard.
It lay there before me, a cluster of grey and wood amidst a field of spruce and snow.
A welcome sight, one that offered much needed relief to my exhausted condition.
I heard a clatter sound behind me and I turned to see Ante fall backwards to the floor, resting against his bag as his tired panting skewed into a sheepish grin.
Roxas soon followed suit, stopping to catch her breath as she rounded the corner, an awkward smile plastered across her face in a manner similar to her twin brother’s.
“So,” his words were barely discernible, cut short by frantic gasps for air, “finally here.”
“Finally here,” I confirmed. His relief was obvious but I did not blame him.
We had travelled for several days, weighed down by backpacks filled with equipment that the villagers had refused.
Equipment we had taken from the bandits, some of which we ourselves now wore.
“If you make us do this again I swear to god.” Roxas this time, words expressed between winded breaths.
Bemusement curled the corners of my lips.
Compared to when I had first met them, the twins had become a lot more at ease.
My behaviour towards them likely helped; I had no interest in treating them as slaves after all, no matter how this world regarded them to be.
At first they were hesitant, wary of my intentions despite the events at the manor. My insistence however quickly reassured them.
We had left the village with as much weaponry and armour as we could take, piling them into the backpacks which now sat upon our shoulders. Not only was this to be sold when we finally arrived at Northgaard, but it also served as a means to help build up the twins’ stamina.
Carrying your own supplies was standard military practice, an exercise I was extremely familiar with.
Not that it was any easier for me this time either however.
Twelve kilograms of steel in the shape of a metal cuirass sat upon my chest, serving to only worsen the already heavy plate carrier I had hidden beneath.
I was lucky Ansgar had been of a larger build. Slotting ceramic plate beneath fitted armour was not an easy task.
The vest remained one of the few things I still had from my world beyond the door. Everything else now lay buried in the manor grounds, submerged beneath several feet of dirt.
The inquisitors knew I had come through the door, they would be searching for anyone who stood out.
I was bearing enough of a risk already still holding on to the vest and weaponry I had hidden beneath my cloak. The diary too was a liability, but I could not bring myself to part ways with any of them.
My gaze wandered upwards, resting upon the mark which sat below Ante’s neck. The padded vest he wore covered it for the most part, but the serif of the “I” still peeked out from above his collarbone.
An “I” which had scorched itself upon him, charring his skin in a harsh tally.
“Haven’t seen it before?” Roxas had caught my look. “I’m surprised. Must’ve been nice living away from slavery.” She tapped her own mark, hidden beneath her leather pauldron. “It brands us for life. Not even magic can get rid of it.”
“Does it stay like that? Forever?”
A nod answered my question.
It had glowed as the twins swore their oath, the “I” searing itself onto their skin as they winced in pain. With this accompanied the smell of burning flesh, and when it was done the scar lay there, an ominous reminder of their vow.
How that was possible, I was not so sure. “Magic” was Ante’s answer, explained matter-of-factly. An easy explanation, one quickly abused for all things unknown to the natural laws of my world.
Things such as the wolf which had sounded in my head, and had given to me with it comprehension of the Northgaardian language.
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I had tried to inquire the wolf further, to ask about the inquisitors and the reason for their pursuit.
I received no reply, only silence.
And so I had ventured on, lost in thought until I turned the corner, the trees in front parting to unveil the city of Northgaard before me.
A city whose sight rendered me speechless.
Despite what Vin had written, seeing it in person was a wholly different experience. There was nothing comparable to it back on Earth.
At its base sat thick walls of stone brick, cradling the city in its arms. It ran semicircular, a path broken only by the towers embedded at intervals amongst the stonework.
The buildings of the city itself rose up in a steep ascent, climbing higher and higher as their shingled roofs shimmered beneath the autumn sunlight.
At its peak stood a solitary fortress, an intimidating structure of dense construction. From its turrets draped two banners of blue, trailing lazily in the afternoon wind.
Banners, upon which bore a single armoured figure, holding aloft a torch and shield, set in the centre of a laurel wreath.
What was most striking however was not the city itself, but the wall against which the entire capital leant on.
A colossal structure spanning the entire mountain pass, it towered over the city with neither its height nor width exceeded even by the fortress capping the entire metropolis.
It was a blank slate of grey, cleanly dividing the scenery before me.
“Northgaard.” There was no disguising the excitement glinting in Ante’s eyes. “We’ve finally reached the capital of the Border Kingdoms!”
“Except it's now ruled by the Atreian Republic,” Roxas pointed out, gesturing to the banners flowing in the sky, “as are the rest of the kingdoms.”
To call it imposing was an understatement, a fact all too clear to me as it loomed overhead.
I could not help but marvel at its enormity, at the gargantuan slabs stacked upon one another, framed by pillars of thick timber, but of a tree so huge even sequoia was insufficient.
The guards manning the gates however appeared wholly unimpressed.
One stepped up, a single hand raised to halt me as he held his spear in the other.
“Identification.” A bored voice. It was not a request, nor was it something I could comply with.
A handful of silver and copper coins were exchanged in its stead; money I had taken from the raiders. Along with it, I gave him a name.
“Enkrid Ishmaea.”
“Tsk, another foreigner.” He did not even try to hide his disgust.
Roxas and Ante both raised an eyebrow.
“Not the name you told us,” Roxas smirked.
The guard glanced at her, his gaze resting upon her eyes.
“Fucking freaks.” he muttered.
Roxas tried to show no reaction, but her demeanour wavered for a brief moment.
I clenched my hand in anger. It would be of no good to cause any commotion here, but it still did not alleviate the sting of the insult.
The guard grumbled as he headed into the gate house, soon returning with a dense folder of paperwork.
He handed back a slip of yellowed paper, upon which he had scrawled the same name. Below lay a seal of red wax, stamped with the portraiture of a crowned figure.
“You’ve got one month.” His distaste was evident. “If you don’t have a licence by then, get out.”
And then it was done.
He waved us in, already dismissing us in his mind as he walked to the next in queue.
The moment I passed through the inner doors, my ears were barraged by the shouts of people. The bustle of commerce, and with it the cries of daily life, ringing through the air without pause.
“Finest pieces out here! More insi-”
“-best silver in all of Northgaard, on sale now-”
“-lord’s recruiting again, not surprising given the inciden-”
“-ardian cabbage, fresh from outside the city!”
It all blurred into one, a comforting ambience of everyday troubles.
I had not felt the same peaceful atmosphere since I had left Earth. It had only been a few days, but now it felt almost an eternity away.
“Where to now?” Ante looked to me for direction, both twins following beside me. Their tiredness subdued their curiosity only by a little, but it was clear that the three of us were still weary from the journey.
I looked upwards in response. The sun was setting, rays of orange gently smothering the buildings beneath a soft warm hue.
Already the shopkeepers were lighting the sconces by their doors, readying the city for night.
“An inn,” was my answer, “we need rest.”
It did not take long to find the sign I was after.
It swayed suspended in the wind, a simple wooden board hanging from one of the main street buildings.
A faded flame had been inscribed upon its weathered wood, captioned with a name stamped out above.
The characters were not Latin, but I understood its meaning nonetheless.
The Frozen Hearth Hall.
It was a tavern located on the main street, exactly what I was after. Surrounding myself with people was the best way to avoid drawing attention after all.
As soon as I closed the door behind me, the outside world seemed to subdue.
The noise from the streets faded into a muffled hum, replaced by the crackling of the fireplace which dominated the centre of the hall.
Amongst this intermingled the sound of strings, strummed by the bard who lay seated in the far side corner. The soft tune lulled the air into a sleepy ambience, made drowsier by the smell of food emanating from the kitchen. Food the twins quickly devoured.
For my first proper meal in this other world, it was surprising how ordinary it was.
A simple beef stew lay warm in a wooden bowl before me.
Whilst not exactly unfamiliar, I still remained glad for its soothing of the tiredness which weighed upon my body.
As for the inn itself, it was quite spacious, a contrast to how it had appeared from the outside.
The mezzanine occupying the second floor had helped it to that effect, circling around the smoke which gently wafted through the smoke hole in the ceiling.
It was on this landing our room was located, one both the twins and myself were eager to find.
“A bed each?” Ante had exclaimed, excitement clearly expressed in his joyous grin. Roxas too could not hide a smile as she fell back against hers.
The two were soon fast asleep, snoring as they lay sprawled across their beds with their bags to the side.
I sat against the open window for a brief while longer, watching the world pass me by on the main street below.
My first peaceful night of rest in this other world.
It was quiet, comforting almost.
The world bathed in the light of the two moons.
My dreams that night however would be much less kind.