With some time before needing to be home for the night, Leal shows me around the city. Of course, the first place she wants to show me is the academy. Despite there only being a couple other students her age that attend — which Leal proudly brags might I add — the school is incredibly large, taking up the space of 4 typical sized buildings. The main building of the academy is a wide circular stone structure larger than most residential buildings in the area, with four square towers surrounding it. A sky-way connects each of the towers to the main building halfway up their height.

I’m not able to enter the building. Leal tries to bring me with her, but a guard at the entrance prevents my access. It is disappointing, and I think Leal is even more depressed than I am that she can’t show me the ins and outs of the place she spends most of her time.

Leal spends some time pointing out the different sections of the academy while we circle the structure from the outside.

“I’m not very far through my studies, so I spend all day in the lecture halls of the main building. The towers are laboratories for research. I really want to look in there myself, but they only let the older students and teachers enter.” She says with a pout.

It blows my mind that it is even possible to build something this big. The academy doesn’t just cover its buildings with decorative metals and threads. Every part of the stone exterior showcases expansive artistic etchings. The carvings depict ursu in strange stances or somewhat confusing scenes of battle.

“What are all the images in the stone?” I ask as we pass another depiction, this one not of battle or some grand discovery, as with the others. The illustration shows a sea overflowing with ships.

“Oh, those. They’re major historic moments, so battles, discoveries and the revolution. This mural shows the ursu landing at New Vetus after abandoning Vetus. It wasn’t called New Vetus at the time, mind you. We were refugees then, and the country that was once in control of these lands took advantage of us.”

My tribe had stories of our past, but a lot of it was unknown. All our history came from the words of my elders who themselves gained the knowledge from their own elders. We had maps and documents of rarer rituals and crafting methods, but storing information like that consumed cargo space and we could only allocate so much towards it. The elders sometimes talked about the agglomerate far to the north and how they would travel there every few decades for rare supplies. I had always wanted to see the place. Mum grew up there and would sometimes tell me stories of the beautiful, glistening home of the áed.

We consider written information to be rare and precious. We protected it more than any other resource in our tribes. So, hearing that the academy in front of me had an entire floor of their massive central building dedicated to those bits of information is shocking.

Leal says they have thousands of books. Many with information on topics ranging from history to mathematics, but most often focused on elements and their subsequent use with markings. It sounds impressive and only makes me even more disappointed they bar me from seeing it for myself.

We find it hard to continue the tour of the academy without actually being able to explore it, so Leal takes me to the next destination in the city.

She takes me past the Continae, down the main road, then through one of the branching streets in the central, organised section of the city.

I see where she is taking me the moment we turn the corner. A sizeable area blanketed in green stands out from the grey stone of the surroundings. While I have seen the colour in the city, the sheer volume is blinding. I am so used to landscapes being brown, red or orange that I almost can’t recognise what I am seeing.

“This is one of the city parks. The life mage Willow Eden created it. I really want to meet her. She’s the only mage in New Vetus who can use nature markings,” she says, looking down at a bed of colourful, oddly shaped plants at our feet. “The grass, trees and flowers here need water mages to manage the ground. The desert drains water from the soil far quicker the further into the desert you go.”

So this is what true plants look like. They’re much more amazing than those lame shrubs on the coast.

The grass beneath my feet feels much softer than the sand I am used to, almost like walking on a rug of fennec fox fur. It is so nice I decide it is a good place to lie down. As I roll onto my back, I invite Leal to sit next to me. She doesn’t join me. Looking up at the ursu girl beside me, I can tell she’s nervous and worried about something.

“Do you mind if we sit beside the trees over there?” she points to a dense cluster of thick brown pillars with each supporting a huge amount of green above them.

“Sure.” I nod to Leal and take her hand to help walking over to the shaded area. Belatedly, I notice the brown pillars are wood. These are the trees I’ve always wanted to see.

My awed gaze upwards brings a giggle from Leal beside me. She helps me sit down, and I notice she makes sure we are out of sight of anyone else inside the park. Is she nervous around other ursu? I mean, I can understand. Their entire race is large and intimidating. But she is one herself, so should she be this nervous around them? Maybe it’s because she is so much skinnier than others I’ve seen. I don’t see another reason she might act the way she does.

“This place is amazing.” There is a sweet smell in the air. A light breeze flutters the leaves above. “I could fall asleep right here.”

Mostly, I am trying to distract her from her nervousness around others. She is still looking around at those who might see us.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Yeah, it’s great. It reminds me of my grandparent’s place. In Morne, it looks like this almost everywhere. They’ve been expanding the range of fertile land into the wasteland for over a century now. Too bad it takes forever. I hate the desert,” Leal says.

We lay there in the comfortable shade of the trees for a while, talking about different things and playing games Leal teaches me. One such game involves creating images from the leaves fallen from the tree and then letting the other guess what it is. I am pretty bad at guessing, but it turns out to be a good way to learn about a lot of new things I haven’t heard of before.

A lot of Leal’s shapes gravitate back towards things to do with mages or her mage training, but there are plenty of things that I think are helpful. One of the things turns out to be inscriptions. She goes on a full tirade of it but explains it’s what makes the ‘doorbell’ work. The inscription will ring a bell inside the house when someone presses the associated number on the outside panel.

She says inscriptions are like a mage’s markings but work on a different principle. She also admits to not knowing too much about it, but what she knows is enough for me to realise that the inscriptions they use are very similar to lines that decorate our clan’s relic weapons. When I tell her about them, she doesn’t seem very surprised.

“Inscriptions, like a mage’s markings, aren’t exclusive to New Vetus. The teachers and books don’t mention it, but I’m pretty sure our inscriptions all come from other countries. I only think this because there isn’t any reference to a creator or any mention of where they originate in the books I’ve read.”

So, our best weapons are common knowledge for these other races? Hopefully, that isn’t the case. They are important for the best fighters in our tribes. Well, it matters little, even if our weapons are common amongst other races. Water mages still pose the greatest threat, regardless of whether our weapons are good.

Now that I think of our weapons, I realise both my mum’s spear and the other two are still under hundreds of tonnes of rock at the bottom of the collapsed Cavern Pass. One day, when I am strong enough — and find a way to dig through that much rock — I will return and find her spear. I feel it will be disrespectful to my ancestors if I don’t.

Soon we move on. We spent enough time here and Leal wants to show me the Continae, even though I have already seen it. Despite that, the building still amazes me, so I don't oppose the idea.

As we approach the building, I notice a congregation of ursu, not anywhere near as much as during the feast in Raetamen, but quite a few. An ursu is yelling over the hum of the crowd, standing on a pedestal above the others. Next to him is a raised board with writing I can’t make out.

I nudge Leal and point it out as I hang from her back. “What’s going on there?” I ask.

She looks toward the crowd and the yelling man before responding, “He’s the Herald. He makes a speech whenever the Continae members want to announce something or share news.” She says, steering clear from the crowd.

“Can we see? I’d like to look.” I push her to go towards the crowd. My curiosity too much to be considerate towards Leal’s apprehension of others.

Leal, as expected, is reluctant. “Can we not? We’ll be able to find out what they said from the adults later.” This is hardly the answer I want. Why is she so worried around her own people?

“Please?” I plead. I won’t push her any more than this if she doesn’t want to go, but I’m too interested in what the yelling man might say.

Leal turns to face me, her conflicted eyes dart between mine and the crowd. With a small sigh, she gives in, and I celebrate inside.

“Okay, but just for a bit. I don’t want to stay around too long.” She says.

I give her a smile of gratitude as she makes her way until we are close enough to overhear and no closer.

The ursu finishes speaking as we arrive. Many ursu laugh as they chatter amongst themselves and move away. Leal and I step to the side and wait along with a few ursu that also hadn’t heard the entire spiel. A minute passes before a large enough crowd has gathered again.

Soon the Herald speaks up, raising his voice over the collective in practised ease, his wide chest allowing him to bellow loud over everyone.

“Attention please, my fellow Vetusians! Please, your attention!” he calls.

“I stand before you all with dire news from the far east. Our brethren have been attacked! The despicable Henosis Empire has launched an ignominious surprise attack on our shores near Wrusten. This invasion is unwarranted and shameful. They have pillaged villages, slaughtering ursu farmers, miners, wives and daughters. The Henosis cowards have murdered many of those unprepared to protect themselves, hiding away from the true might of the New Vetus people.” He speaks with a face of solemnity, and the crowd break out in a babble of outrage.

The man then looks up, giving an air of determination, before continuing.

“But fear not my comrades. For the Henosis mice will soon feel the might of our collective ursu wrath. We will not forgive this transgression against us and we will obliterate them.” The ursu pauses, letting the crowd cheer in agreement.

“Our brethren in the east are, at this moment, marching to crush these invading mice and thrust them back into the seas from which they came. How dare these rodents tempt the snout of the beast that has, until now, ignored them. My fellow Vetusians, I stand here today to inform you that our mighty nation is at war!” the man stands tall as he speaks the last of his speech. The crowd cheers, many amongst them laughing.

I overhear many saying the Henosis Empire is foolish. Many believe the war will be short, and from what I have seen from their numbers and strength, I believe them.

Leal is quick to leave, so I can’t hear much more from the crowd. She moves away at a fast clip, making distance between us and the crowd as fast as she can.

I don’t have a good understanding of what war is, but from the murals Leal talked about earlier today and the context given in the speech, I could take a guess. It is essentially a fight, like when our tribe fought the chthonic, but on a massive scale.

When we are far enough around the side of the continae, Leal mutters, “this isn’t good.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

She looks at me with a frown and scratches at the back of her hand.

“My dad will have to fight,” she says, then bit her lip.

Her concern has me worried about her myself, so I try to cheer her up.

“You heard what the man said, those people; the Henosis Empire, are going to be beaten easily. You ursu are really strong.” I say, encouraging her to see that there isn’t anything to worry about.

It doesn’t seem to work. She disregards my words, so I try something a little more direct.

“Leal. Is your father strong?” I ask. I already know the answer. Gerben is stronger than both of the other hot-head ursu I travelled with on our way here. He is wise too, which is something my elders always emphasised; intelligence over pure power.

“Yeah.” She nods, looking at me once more.

“And is your father smart?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she responds again, with more strength this time.

“Then you have nothing to worry about. Trust that your dad can keep himself safe,” I say. Even as I say it, though, I know it isn’t true. Just because someone is strong and smart doesn’t mean they can escape anything. My tribe could not avoid their own deaths after all. I make sure my own negative thoughts don’t show on my face. Cheering her up is my goal, after all. The death of a family member is something I don’t want her to even consider. I wouldn’t wish that for anyone.

But, regardless of my own thoughts, it is a relief to see her relax a bit at my words. I plead to Eldest Ember silently in my head for Gerben’s safety, for Leal’s sake.