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Chapter 15: Frank

As they neared the city, Jager, without turning to face them, instructed, "There are two robes there. Put them on and make sure to cover your faces." Elio reached for two voluminous black robes handed to him by Jager and passed one to Immanuel. Slipping the robe over his head, Immanuel couldn't help but think, "Wow, these give off some serious Jedi vibes," as he pulled the hood up to shroud his face. The robe featured a visor-like slit for the eyes, dimming his view of the world slightly, yet allowing him to see clearly enough.

They steered the boat towards a small, inconspicuous dock where a closed chariot awaited their arrival. Jager expertly docked the boat and gestured towards the chariot. Without hesitation, Elio and Immanuel leaped out of the boat and into the chariot, which started moving the moment they were securely inside.

---

"Good to see you've arrived," Val said, lounging in an open white satin dress. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she observed Elio's surprised expression. Before he could articulate a response, she extended a shimmering core towards him. "A gift for you. Lycen 3. It possesses the unique ability to…"

"Heal," Elio completed her sentence, a hint of reluctance in his voice as he accepted the core. Immanuel understood. Elio had just gambled with his life, and here he was, on his way to the next evolution.

Val's gaze shifted to Immanuel, "I knew you'd survive, but did the little bird share its secrets with you?" In Immanuel's mind, an image flickered – the tantalizing thought of flashing beside her, an arm casually draped around her shoulders. However, he was all too aware that such a bold move might result in an unceremonious exit through the rear of the chariot. "Well," he began, a playful smirk playing on his lips, "I was considering the thrill of flashing through the air to your side. But, realistically, I'd probably just barrel through the back of the chariot. Distance is still difficult." Her laughter rang out, clear and genuine, at his candid admission. "Well, practice makes perfect, Immanuel. Just not here," she replied, her expression shifting to a more serious one. She studied him intently. "Have you always been like this, or was there a change after your accident, when you cracked your skull and all your memories fell out?"

“Is it because I don’t behave as if I have a staff up my ass?” Immanuel asked.

A faint sigh escaped Elio. Val did not react in any way.

“Well. You know, when I was a child and got hurt, even if there was no visible injury, my mother would always come and kiss it better.” Immanuel continued.

"Your mother was a healer?" she inquired.

"No, not at all. It was just her way of soothing me. My childhood revolved around family, play, and learning."

“A princeling?” she probed.

“No, far from it. Such a childhood was considered normal, a foundation for a fulfilling life.”

She mulled this over for a moment in silence. “How were your warriors raised?”

“We didn’t have warriors,” he replied, his voice softer now.

“Then who would stand to fight?”

Immanuel paused, considering how to answer this question, “We possessed a weapon so potent that battles were unnecessary; we had no real enemies.”

Her scepticism was palpable. "Tell me about this weapon."

“I wasn’t privy to its secrets. We just knew we lived under its protective shadow.”

“It’s curious how some memories cling to you while others slip away,” she said. Immanuel couldn't gauge how much of his answer she believed.

They remained silent for some time, each lost to their own thoughts.

The chariot abruptly swerved and stopped and Val announced, “Welcome to the Blue Dome Tower.”

They emerged onto a square. Immanuel craned his neck, marveling at the skyscraper towering before them, its modern design imposing in its vastness. He could see several of the terraces looking out over the square. Statues of warriors, each posed in mid-battle, dotted the expanse.

Approaching one, Immanuel laid his hand on its cold, marble-like surface; the statue depicted a woman, sword poised low, ready to slice through her enemy in a dynamic stance, one foot forward, the other back. Val and Elio stood nearby, observing. The statue's vivid colors and lifelike texture captivated Immanuel. He turned to absorb the bustling scene: the square teemed with people. As Immanuel lingered, lost in silent wonder, Val's patience waned. "Let's go," she urged.

They began to follow her towards the entrance when Immanuel hesitated. "Val," he started, and she turned, an annoyed edge to her voice. “Yes?”

Immanuel ventured, "Is there time for me to explore the city? I've never truly seen it, except for that brief passage with you."

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She ignored him and stepped inside.

In the heart of the expansive lobby stood a magnificent tree. The tree boasted a canopy of lustrous pink leaves that shimmered gently in the ambient light, creating a soothing, almost ethereal atmosphere. Its thick, gnarled trunk rose majestically, hinting at centuries of growth and resilience. The tree was set upon a meticulously crafted island, surrounded by a tranquil moat of clear, serene water.

“I am out of patience.” Val said to a gawking Immanuel. The area bustled with activity and Immanuel followed after Val en Elio not taking his eyes off the tree.

They ascended a flight of stairs and stepped onto a circular stone disc. Val positioned herself at the center and tapped a symbol with her foot. Instantly, the disc surged upwards, swiftly transporting them through the levels. The floors blurred past.

The disc came to a smooth halt at an open lounge area. There was a group of three cultivators standing next to a bar. Val navigated towards one of the hallways branching off from the lounge area. Meanwhile, Elio approached the group where a towering, Viking-like figure stood, his imposing presence accentuated by double axes strapped to his back. His gaze locked onto Immanuel, scrutinizing him with an intensity that spoke volumes without a word.

Val navigated towards one of the hallways leading away from the lounge area. She then opened a door to reveal a spacious room with a view over the city. The panorama sprawled endlessly into the distance, revealing the city's vastness. Immanuel's eyes widened; he had never imagined its sheer scale. A river snaked through it, meandering toward a large lake or possibly a sea.

"We've had clothing prepared for you," Val said, breaking the silence. "Wear the blue and gold one one on the evening of the moons. And, Immanuel, you'll be formally named and given the title of protégé.”

She walked to the window and looked at the city.

“I know you've never taken a life."

She paused, waiting for his response, but he remained silent.

"I'll pick you up later this evening for a trip into the city." She started to leave, then stopped as Immanuel asked, "Can we visit the harbormaster? Where you picked..."

In an instant, Val was a breath away from his face, her words hissed with frustration. "How dare you assume you can call me Val and treat me like... I don't know what you think I am, but it frustrates me to no end. I won't tell you to stop; it comes so naturally..." She squinted, stepping back.

Immanuel also took a step back, a deep frown on his face. "I give you permission. Not as a sister, and we are not friends, and definitely not equals. But I give you permission." She added.

Immanuel needed a moment to digest her words. "Okay," he finally managed, trying to grasp the bottom line of what he should or shouldn't do.

"There is a communal bath area at the end of the hall; use it. Wait for me in the common area." She instructed.

"For men and women?" Immanuel blurted out.

"For warriors," she replied sharply, and left.

As Immanuel gazed out the window, absorbing the city's view, he tried to understand the puzzle that is Val.

---

Immanuel rifled through the closet, his fingers brushing against the luxurious fabrics of robes, fighting suits, and clothing for all kinds of special occasions. Among these, a robe of deep blue, interwoven with threads of gold and speckled with tiny, twinkling gems, captivated his attention. He carefully selected a few garments and stored them. He also secured his staff in the same storage. Not knowing how much time he had, and Val being very impatient he decided to immediately take a bath.

Moving down the hall, Immanuel entered the bathing area. He opened the door and for the first time in this world he felt like he found something he fully recognized. Warm, flower-scented vapor hung in the air, cloaking the room in a mist that gently obscured his vision.

He took off his clothes, stepping bare into the realm of steam and serenity. Ahead several bathing pools lay embedded within the floor, their surfaces still and inviting. High beds for relaxation adorned the periphery, crafted from rich, dark wood. Workers, dressed in minimal garb, glided through the mist, their arms laden with urns, replenishing the waters and tending to the needs of the bathers.

Immanuel lowered himself into the nearest pool, the hot water embracing him like a long-lost friend. As he settled, a woman approached. "A wash," she offered softly, to which he gave a nod of consent. She joined him in the water, her hands gently working through his hair.

In the midst of this tranquility, a man approached swimming, marked by the gentle displacement of water. Tanned skin, a meticulously groomed mustache and goatee, and long, flowing brown hair lent him an air of rugged elegance. He stopped a respectful distance away. "I am Frank," he declared.

Immanuel jolted upright prompting the woman to shift her focus to his shoulders. "Frank? Your name is Frank?" Immanuel echoed in disbelief.

"I am Aramanis. May my seven swords protect. Cornerstone. The white halls of the true city await. Keep the tree alive," he intoned. Then, standing tall, he flashed a dashing smile, his features strikingly handsome.

Immanuel, momentarily caught off guard by the initial mention of 'Frank', chose to sidestep the rest of what he said. "Frank is a very common name where I'm from," he replied. "Where are you from?"

"I hail from the Zuluya Oasis, adjacent to the Zuluya oasis City in the Desert of Light," Frank responded.

"Were you born there?" Immanuel inquired.

"I was. For I am the deserted legionnaire. I slaughtered my legion for their dishonesty until only I was left as their shepherd," Aramanis declared.

"Is it far away?" Immanuel asked.

The woman's hands began to scrub and massage Immanuel’s back, the warm water amplifying the soothing touch. Her movements were rhythmic and methodical.

"Well, if you have a Skyship or wings, but, you know what I want more than returning to my homeland?"

“No.”

"A haram with a thousand women all jealously fighting to be the one to please me, for it is their sole purpose to do so.”

“Yeah.” Immanuel nodded.

With that, he gracefully stepped out of the bath. Immanuel made a point of looking the other way when Frank passed him with his manhood dangling between his legs. He left the bathhouse naked.

"Fuck me," Immanuel muttered under his breath.