A bright-eyed, but hungover, Luka sat with a bleary-eyed but sober Eve and Franky the next morning. They sipped on jrum and snacked on triangular-shaped salted nuts called “trinuts.” A fitting name, Luka thought, listening to the siblings talk about the wild night they had. As it turned out, the new sign brought in much, much more business than anyone expected—to the point they sold out of alcohol completely.

“Oh no,” Luka said, taking a long sip. Jrum really did hit the spot after a night of smoking—especially after dreams like that. “So, what happened?”

Eve grunted out a scoff. “A few of the drunks got agitated. Belligerently, blaming Todd for something. Luckily, an outer guard patrol stopped in for a round. They handled the situation before Todd could get his mallet out.”

“Mallet?”

Franky laughed at the question, tossing a trinut in his mouth. “Mr. Todd has a mallet under the counter. Anytime someone gets physical, he grabs it and beats the living ribblelits out of them! Usually works.”

Luka hesitated. “Usually?”

“Well—this one time, Mr. Todd tried to fight off a drunk dullahan. But you can’t knock out what doesn’t have a brain! You shoulda seen his face when the dullahan loomed uncaring over him!” Franky grabbed his sides in laughter, shaking the table with his bellows alone.

Eve suppressed laughing, clamping her lips tight.

Luka didn’t get it. “What’s a dullahan?” he asked.

“A race of immortal undead people. They don’t have heads, hence the brain joke.” Eve explained.

“Immortal? Headless? How were they drinking if they don’t have a head?”

“They’ve still got mouths, Luka.” Eve looked at him like he was stupid.

He didn’t know how to respond to that.

“And they’re immortal cause they are employed by the god—soul ferries. If a soul gets lost in the shuffle after death, the dullahans are dispatched to collect it and help it move along.”

Luka thought about that for a moment. “So, there was a lost soul over here…” He trailed off, seeing Eve and Franky’s faces. They looked away, their breathing light yet tense.

Oh, Luka thought to himself, the dullahan was here for the people who died in the mine.

Luckily, the door of the bar swung open and Mayor Tram stepped in. Instantly, the air cleared, and Franky yelled, “We’re closed!”

Tram gave him an unimpressed glare, strolling right in and sitting at the table. She held a stack of papers, fanning herself with them. She plopped down beside Franky, grabbed his mug of jrum and downed it all in a single gulp. She smashed the mug down, still glaring at the other orc.

Eve started laughing as Franky wilted.

“What a power move,” Luka said with a thumbs up. “What can we do for you, Mrs. Mayor?”

She drummed her fingers on the table and chewed on her lip a bit while staring at the World Walker. She then turned to Eve. “I heard you ran out of booze last night. You’re going to Sneerhome to resupply today, right? I need a favor.”

Eve shook her head and jutted her thumb at Franky. “Not me, him. Drew the short straw. Today’s my day off.”

Tram practically growled, “Fine. Franky. I need a favor.”

“Name it,” Franky adopted a wicked grin. “For a price, of course.”

“The price is me not kicking your ass for being a twit.” Again, Tram glared. The two devolved into a battle of intimidation, Franky promptly losing.

“Fine. What do you need?” he asked.

“Take Luka with you and swing by the government building and—”

“Hold on,” Luka interrupted. “What’s this about?”

“Paperwork,” Tram said grimly. “Building permits as well as food vendor certificates.”

He furled his eyebrows. “You need paperwork to build at Emberwood?”

She hesitated. “Sort of. Technically, Emberwood Village is an independent village. But the forest around Emberwood isn’t. And the city of Sneerhome, in all its glory, is a right bag of pencil pushers.”

“Sneerhome’s run by humans,” Eve said plainly. “Sticklers for contracts, boundaries, laws, rules, you get the picture. They make a fuss if the village does something they don’t like. Trust me, I’ve seen Aunt Sol get in trouble enough to know it's not worth messing with them.”

Luka took another sip of jrum, not knowing what to say about any of that. But then again. “Why do I have to do it? I’m not really the most knowledgeable when it comes to this world’s laws…”

Tram nodded. “Paperwork’s all filled out. You just have to pass it off.”

“Then why—”

The mayor sighed, long and hard. “I wanted to give you one last chance to back out of that special little thing we talked about yesterday. And visiting Sneerhome might give you closure or change your mind.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Becoming a resident here, Luka inferred. You’re a good woman, Tram.

“And besides,” Franky said, “we can take Leo to get magically trained.”

That caused Luka to perk up. “When do we leave, then?”

***

After a forty-minute ride on Leo and Sebby, Luka and Franky could see the city between the trees. As it turned out, the Kingdom of Embers had several “highways” stretching across the continent. Six total highways converged into the city of Sneerhome, making it a hub of trade, import, and export.

And massively bogged down by traffic.

Made of enchanted clay and dirt, the road was nothing more than a flattened, packed, straight line. It was four “lanes,” though no markings dictated where carts and wagons could be… nor was there a definite barrier between directions of traffic. Yet, there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation. Orcs rode on beastback, humans on horses, merchants held the reins of scaled creatures pulling massive hauls of product.

The wind pulled Luka’s hair back, Leo trotting along at speeds akin to a horse in a full gallop. He clutched the saddle with his legs, bending them around the dire-wolf’s ribcage-like hand on a mug. Luckily for Luka’s stomach and his anxiety, the ride slowed to a crawl once close to the city.

“Why’s it called Sneerhome?” Luka asked, scanning the stone and wood skyline. Made of orange emberwood and black basalt, the city appeared like the setting sun. It disappeared behind a large cobble wall, mimicking the horizon.

Buildings jutted tall with smoke billowing from chimneys or flags flying on tall metallic poles. The Kingdom’s flag—a black and orange series of motes depicting embers in the night sky—was everywhere. From draped in large banners across the wall to small emblematic crests attached to the various signage along the highway’s edge, the flag flew with obvious pride.

“Cause the founder was scared by a magical beast when he was young,” Franky answered, guiding the pair and their mounts toward an express entrance lane. “He had a big scar across his face, which made him look as if he was always sneering. The name ‘Sneerhome’ stuck.”

The express lane was for non-carted individuals—solo riders, mainly, not large caravans and wagons. As they passed the carted lane, Luka couldn’t help but glance at some of the people. Races he had yet to meet came into focus, such as ogres with their hulking size and gnomes with their… not hulking size.

And yet, it wasn’t any of the people that drew his attention. Instead, it was electricity.

Powering the gnomes' “mounts,” electricity sparked and popped from wires and glass bulb transistors. Shaped as oxen with a long unicorn horn, the mounts were completely mechanical. They chugged and boomed, their engines combusting within. Copper wires ran the length of the mechanical beast, electro-charging the entire thing.

Why? Luka asked himself as he watched a young man in dirty clothes stalk toward the gnomes. Luka craned his neck to watch as the man tried to steal something from the gnomes, only to get shocked by the wires he touched. The gnome driving the machine, a man the size of Luka’s shin, mocked and pointed at the would-be thief.

“Don’t mess with gnomes,” Franky warned.

“How aren’t they electrocuting themselves?” Luka asked.

“Gnomes are blessed followers of God Liss—who just loves everything mechanical. So, he blessed the entire race to be resistant to nearly everything. That’s why their capital city is in a poisonous swamp. Apparently, the rarest precious metals are under it.”

Eventually, they arrived at the city gates. Two human guards flanked them on either side, each sporting the Kingdom’s crest and long spears.

“Reason for your visit?” one asked.

Franky answered, “Paperwork from Emberwood.”

The second guard groaned. “Paperwork’s the worst.”

“Agreed, agreed. We’re also putting in some beer orders. Ran out.”

The first guard eyed the orc. “You’re not from that new bar, Mr. Todd’s, are you?”

Franky snorted. “New? That place is older than me!”

“But the sign—I don’t remember ever seeing it on my patrols.”

“That’s new, but not the bar. Brings in a lot of customers, hence the beer orders.”

Both guards grunted at that, waving them in. Once they were out of earshot, Luka asked, “Why have guards if they let us in without a fuss?”

Franky smirked. “Both were using magic, didn’t you notice? Truth-detection and identification of contraband—are the spells, I think.”

Luka turned around, focusing on the strands of magic in his peripheral view. Franky was right, magic leaked from the two guardsmen, especially from their eyes.

“Alrighty, paperwork first. Follow me,” Franky led the way, expertly guiding Sebby through the crowds. Luka kept up, but that was mostly due to Leo understanding the request and weaving around people himself.

Whoever designed the city did so with mounts in mind. Wide walkways were common, and points of interest were spaced out. And while some people moved out of the way of the massive dire-beasts, they were far and away not the largest mounts out there. Just in a few minutes of walking, a lizard beast the size of a whale but the width of a horse slithered by with a rider, sitting calmly on its head.

“Dire-snake,” Franky explained, seeing Luka's expression. “Somewhat rare around these parts. Probably raised from an egg.”

They stopped in front of a nondescript trio of buildings made of emberwood and stone. On one end, a bakery with a glass front with steaming pastries in the window served a line of customers. On the other end, a glass etching shop housed decorated carved and colored glass murals.

And in the center sat the building Luka and Franky were looking for. It was bland, uninspired, and rundown. A wood-carved book and quill sat in the window beside a city emblem, explaining what was inside—boredom. This was a government building, there were no doubts about it.

And yet, there was a line.

There’s always a line, Luka thought.

Franky clapped him on the back. “Okeydokey, that’s your line to wait in. Just hand off the paperwork, and you’ll be good to go. In the meantime, I’m going to find a brewer to put Mr. Todd’s order in.”

“You’re leaving me?” Luka asked.

“You’ve got Leo.”

The white wolf craned his head back, locking eyes with his rider. There was a softness hidden amongst the fur like an older brother or that one cool uncle everyone had. Luka felt safe with Leo, something he showed by scratching Leo under the chin.

The line moved… moderately quickly, even though it started outside the shop. With only a dozen people ahead of him, Luka eventually had to get off Leo and enter by himself. The wolf watched him the entire time he was inside from the window.

“Papers please,” a woman behind the only desk in the entire place said.

“Hi,” Luka said, pushing the stack of papers into her hand. “From Mayor Tram of Emberwood Village.”

The woman gave him a bored look, dropping the stack into a pile labeled ‘completed.’ She then yelled, “Next!”

“Wait, that’s it? You didn’t even check if they were filled out right.”

“And I don’t care if they are.” She rolled her eyes. “Next!”

Luka walked out, stupefied. Leo licked him in the face right as Franky and Sebby showed up.

“All done?”

Luka just nodded.

“Good! Now for the fun part of the city, come on!”