TravelingDreamer
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B6—Chapter 20: New World, New Experiences
🕑 Added 2025-04-10 15:11:09 +0000 UTCWhen I came down for my guard shift, Mahya sat curled up on the couch, a thick book balanced on her knee and a blanket draped over her shoulders.
“Anything interesting happen?” I asked.
“No. All quiet. Al and Rue also had a quiet night.” She closed the book and stretched her legs out with a yawn.
“You can go up and sleep some more.”
“I’m good.” She gave a small shrug and swung her feet to the floor, the blanket slipping to her lap.
I nodded and headed for the kitchen.
When Rue got up from his beanbag, I squinted at him.
Does he look a bit smaller?
I wasn’t sure. His head still towered over mine, but maybe a centimeter or two?
“Does Rue look smaller to you?” I asked Mahya telepathically.
She tilted her head and gave him a long look, squinting too. “Maybe? Hard to tell. He’s still too huge for comfort.”
I didn’t ask Rue, afraid he would change his mind in case he did shrink a bit.
After everyone was fed and watered—or caffeinated—we headed out. We flew over the river and continued on foot along the stone channel, hopping down whenever a train passed through. When the green plain ended and the desert began, the heat turned brutal. Back in the forest, it had been hot and humid, like a jungle. Out here, it was even hotter, and dry.
Despite my heightened tolerance for heat, thanks to the boost in my traits, I still felt it. More precisely, I melted like an ice cream. And the deeper we got into the desert, the worse it got. I didn’t have a thermometer, but I figured it had to be around fifty degrees Celsius. The heat also dried my nose. Less than an hour after we entered the desert, my nose was dried up and felt like sandpaper. I kept pinching and wiggling it, but it didn’t help, just made me notice the irritation more.
“We should fly,” I said. Since no bears were around, we talked out loud, even though we were still invisible.
Mahya made an irritated, throaty sound.
“When your mana dips below half, I’ll carry you,” I said. Then added, “provided you don’t slap my butt again and tell me to giddy up. In that case, I’ll drop you.”
She laughed long and hard. When she finally stopped having fun, she said, “Fine. No horsing around,” and cracked up again.
Now, I made an irritated, throaty sound.
Half an hour into our flight, a train passed beneath us, and suddenly, the sand exploded with movement. Strange creatures burst out of the ground—extra-long worms with rounded openings at the tops of their bodies, sporting equally extra-long teeth all around the opening. Freaky. They launched themselves upward at the train like fish leaping from water, dozens at a time, maybe hundreds.
The tubes mounted on the train responded immediately, spinning and firing balls of red mana at the swarming creatures. They weren’t fireballs exactly, but the mana glowed with that same angry red of the fire element.
I was so glad we were flying. If we’d been walking down there, no matter how fast we were, we would’ve been lit up with no chance to dodge.
The train didn’t slow down. It sped off into the distance, but even as it shrank from view, those worm-things kept jumping, still hurling themselves at it in a full-on suicidal rush.
“We are not landing,” Al said.
“Rue need fill mana soon.”
“Stay up as long as you can, buddy. Then we’ll land, regenerate fast, and get back up. Those things look dangerous.”
“Rue bite worms.”
“I’m sure. But you can bite one at a time, not a hundred.”
That ended the argument. Rue went quiet, probably busy imagining how he’d bite a hundred worms at once. I drifted off into my own thoughts. If the Gate listed this place with giant bears and suicidal sand worms as Moderate High, what exactly counted as High? Or worse, Lethal? Just thinking about it made me shudder and break into a sweat.
Perhaps the sweat was due to the heat. Probably. Still, I had absolutely zero interest in visiting any world with a higher threat level until my classes hit level 50. Actually, better make that 100. Minimum.
Around noon, we reached the city. The architecture was like nothing I’d ever seen before.
Everything was tall, sharp, and smooth, like someone had decided right angles were illegal. The buildings curved and stretched, with massive spires that just kept going up. Some were shaped like domes stacked on top of each other; others resembled a cluster of bubbles that had been mashed together. And everything had tall spires jutting out, hundreds of meters high.
There were no signs or markings I could recognize, and I couldn’t tell if anything was residential, official, or something else entirely. It had its beauty and a kind of unique charm, but it was too alien, too different from anything I’d seen before, whether on Earth or in other worlds.
“Very pointy,” I sent to the group.
“I think it’s nice,” Mahya said.
“Impractical,” I said.
“Why?” Al asked.
“Look at all those tall, pointy spires. Nothing can fit in there. Maybe a small room, tops. What’s the point? Sure, it looks nice in its own way, but that’s a lot of building material wasted on something nobody uses.”
“Beauty serves a purpose in and of itself,” Al said. “Utility is not the sole criterion.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I said.
“Of course I am.”
“Careful,” I sent only to him. “You’re starting to sound like Mahya with her ‘I’m a genius’ spiel.'”
He snickered.
“What?” Mahya asked.
“Nothing,” we said in unison.
She didn’t respond, and I couldn’t see her, but if I could, I’d bet her eyes were narrowed into the razor-sharp slits she used when she was suspicious. Probably aimed right at us. I clamped down on the laugh creeping up my throat. Al could risk it if he wanted, but I had no intention of waking the beast.
We landed near the first group and listened to their language. The people here had dark skin, but not as dark as Mahya's. They were more like Middle Eastern or North African on Earth, with dark hair and light eyes, mostly amber or light green. Something bugged me right away, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it—pun not intended.
As usual, Al needed half an hour to absorb the language. He and his annoying dignity had an entire process. While he worked through it, the rest of us waited. Once he had it down, we practiced telepathically until we could speak it well enough to pass for sort of locals. After that, we found a secluded spot and became visible.
That nagging feeling stuck with me, though. I looked at the people again, squinting at one of them while he gestured during a conversation. Then I noticed it.
Six fingers.
They had the opposable thumbs and all, but after the pinky, there was another finger. A pinkier pinky.
Every time we crossed a Gate, I pretty much glamored myself automatically, hiding the glow in my eyes and the purple streaks in my hair. Now, I had to adjust.
I leaned in a little and lowered my voice. “Did you notice the fingers?”
Al gave a slight nod. “Yes.”
Mahya squinted at a passing group, then blinked. “What fingers? …Oh. I see.”
A man walked by with a huge, vicious-looking cat, striped in yellow and muted brown, padding calmly at his side. It wasn’t Rue-huge, but it didn’t miss by much. No muzzle or leash, and nobody around seemed even mildly concerned.
We stepped into a wider street, and I glanced around, checking for more animals. There were quite a few. The most common were tall, sandy-colored lizards that people rode like mounts. They stood on four legs, had long tails for balance, and their scales blended well with the street. Some carried saddlebags, others wore harnesses with riders on their backs.
I didn’t spot any canines, which made me a little wary. I hoped Rue wouldn’t cause a stir. So far, nobody had reacted negatively. People glanced our way, some did a double-take, and a few outright stared, but that was it. Some of the stares were aimed at us, more than at Rue.
I figured it might be the clothes. Most of the locals wore loose, oversized garments in pale colors made from almost see-through, lightweight material—probably great for the heat. Mahya and I were still wearing jeans and T-shirts, and Al, true to form, was in an elaborate silk shirt and tailored trousers.
There were also a lot of tricycles. Some were small, meant for a single rider, while others carried two or three people or pulled trailers for cargo. They didn’t have pedals. They moved on their own, smooth and quiet, like electric bikes, but even quieter. I didn’t hear a single sound from them, not even a hum.
From the air, I was sure the streets were packed sand, but now that we were walking on them, I saw they were paved with some kind of stone. It just happened to be sand-colored and blended perfectly with the surrounding ground. There were some trees scattered around, but not many—mostly planted close to the buildings, probably for shade.
We wandered the city for a few hours, just taking it all in. It was huge, with buildings spaced far apart and wide, open streets and areas between them. I couldn’t tell what the buildings were used for. There were no signs, markings, shop windows, or banners—nothing that gave away what was inside. Some had people coming and going; others didn’t. A few had steady traffic, groups coming and going, while others barely saw a soul.
Aside from watching the flow of people, there wasn’t much to go on. The architecture didn’t help either. The entrances were often set back or raised, sometimes hidden behind columns or long, shaded walkways. Every door looked the same: tall, narrow, and made from the same pale stone as the walls. It seemed like everything here relied on locals just knowing where to go. Either this place didn’t care about visitors or wasn’t used to getting them.
Now and then, someone would flinch or take a step back when they saw Rue, but it was rare. When it happened, they pulled themselves together fast and kept going without saying anything or making a scene, which helped me relax.
The most common animals were the riding lizards; they were everywhere you looked. Alongside them, I spotted a few more types of big cats. Some were puma-sized, while others were almost as large as Rue, and all were in shades of yellow, brown, or black, most with patterns of spots or stripes. Smaller lizards and birds perched on people’s shoulders, and a few lizards sat in girls’ purses, with colorful ribbons on their necks. This small point of familiarity brought a smile to my face.
We walked past a building that resembled an upturned bowl, complete with the obligatory tall, pointy spire on top. A lot of people walked in and out of it, carrying cloth bags.
I pointed. “I think it’s a store of some kind.”
When we walked in, my jaw hit the floor, bounced a couple of times, and closed with an audible snap. I walked right back out and looked at the building. No, I didn’t imagine it. I was used to the ‘dungeon dimension’ my house created, but this was on an entirely different scale. From the outside, it looked like it could house a small mom-and-pop store. Inside, it had the biggest shopping mall I’d ever seen in my life. And I saw some big and impressive shopping malls in the U.S.
The temperature inside was a perfect 25 degrees, a massive improvement from the 50-degree furnace outside. I looked around but found no visible air vents or air conditioning units. Still, the air was pleasant, with a light breeze drifting through the place, gently ruffling my hair.
The mall had a central walkway with stores on both sides that stretched on and on, disappearing into the distance. Its clean, smooth floors reflected the soft overhead lighting. All the shops had glass fronts—some clear, some with a slight smoky tinge that didn’t prevent seeing inside. Stalls lined the main walkway, each with tables or a square counter, and many were equipped with lightweight awnings.
There were cats and lizards in the mall, so I wasn’t too worried about Rue. The only difference was that the lizard riders didn’t ride inside. They walked beside their mounts, leading them by the reins.
The first stores were all about food. They sold fruits, vegetables, butchered meats, and even fish.
Where did they find fish in the middle of the desert?
There were cheese shops and bakeries with racks of bread and trays of pastries, and most of the stalls in the center sold various cooked foods that filled the air with a dozen different, unfamiliar smells. Every few stalls, a small cluster of tables and chairs would appear, usually consisting of three or four, with people sitting around and eating.
Every second or third shop turned out to be a restaurant or a café of some kind, with tables spilling out into the main walkway. Some had servers weaving between the tables, carrying trays of food and drinks. Others were more casual, with people picking up their orders directly from the counter and seating themselves.
Rue’s nose went into overdrive. He sniffed the air like he was trying to track down every scent at once, then looked at me with big eyes and started his usual song and dance.
“Rue is hungry.”
“I gave you a steak less than half an hour ago.”
“Rue is hungry again. Rue want taste. Small taste. Rue need snack. Small snack. Rue share with John.”
He licked his lips and gave a hopeful little tail wag.
Two stalls down sold smoked meats, judging by the smell. I glanced over and saw rows of hanging cuts, all dark and glossy, some with thin wisps of mana rising from them.
Rue let out a quiet whine beside me.
I sighed. “Fine. Let me see what they’ve got.”
I approached the vendor, a rotund fellow with a long braided beard, and nodded toward a thick chunk of meat dangling above the counter. “What kind of meat is it?”
The vendor looked me up and down. “Desha. Local herd animal. Smoked three days.”
“How much is it?”
“Two gold for the whole chunk, one gold and ten silver for half. I don’t sell smaller.”
Expensive.
“I’ll take the whole chunk.”
I pulled out two gold coins and handed them over. He stared at them for a second, furrowed his brow, then bit one like in the movies. I almost laughed. Satisfied, he nodded to himself and stashed the coins under the counter before handing me the wrapped meat. I saw somebody in Lumis also bite a coin. Some things are just multi-universal.
I carried it back to Rue, who was still parked exactly where I’d left him, looking like the world’s most obedient and underfed creature. He perked up the second he saw the food. The minute I unwrapped it, he took the chunk from my hands, inhaled it in three massive bites, then licked his chops and started scanning the air again, nose working a mile a minute like the feast hadn’t even happened.
While I was buying the food, I lost Al and Mahya. When I looked around, I could still feel them nearby, but I didn’t see them anywhere.
“Where is everybody?” I asked.
“Rue not know. Rue busy looking food.”
He didn’t even look at me, just kept sniffing the air like a walking appetite.
“Hey, you’re a guard dog. At least, that’s what you keep telling us. So you need to know where everybody is.”
Rue tilted his head sideways and sent me a feeling like waving me off. “Place not dangerous. Rue on vacation from guard dog.”
Of course, he was.
Al and Mahya appeared from a store, each holding a small box and munching on something.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Dried fruits,” Mahya answered telepathically, her mouth full.
I reached into her box, grabbed one, and popped it in my mouth. It was interesting—sweet, sour, and with a sharp tang that lingered at the back of my throat. Not bad.
The food section of the mall cost me eleven gold, and Rue’s haul included smoked meat, a cooked dish with big chunks of meat, skewers with some kind of bird, and an assortment of sausages and kebabs.
The next stretch of shops was all about shoes, followed by a row of clothing stores. Mahya gestured around us with a vague wave. “We should buy something local to blend in better.”
“Wait here,” I told Rue, pointing at a spot between two stores. He flopped down to improve digestion.
I stepped into the first store on the right. Al and Mahya wandered off again.
The place was bright and neat, with tables and shelves stacked with the same light, flowy clothes we’d seen everyone wearing. They looked like gauze at first glance, but when I ran a hand over one, it felt more like silk or satin—cool and smooth.
Two young girls stood behind the counter, folding garments and chatting quietly.
“Hello, ladies. I’m looking to buy local clothes,” I said with a polite nod.
They exchanged a quick look and burst into giggles.
“What?” I asked, glancing down to make sure I hadn’t stepped in anything.
“This is a women’s clothes store,” one of them said, still smiling.
Could’ve fooled me. The men’s and women’s clothes out there looked basically the same.
I nodded, turned, and headed back out. Time to try the next one.
Finding men’s clothes turned out to be easy. Two stores down, I spotted a male salesperson near the entrance, arranging neat stacks of folded fabric. That was a good enough sign, so I walked in. The setup was pretty much like the other store's, and the clothes were the same too. Light, flowing fabrics in pale, sun-friendly shades. No matter how I looked at them, I couldn’t tell the difference between the men’s and women’s clothes. They had the same cut and shape. I ran a hand across a shirt. It was smooth, almost slippery, like a cross between silk and something even lighter. Exactly like the women’s clothes.
The price ruined the moment. A long, airy shirt and matching pants came to twenty-three gold. The inflation in this world was out of control.
I pulled out the coins and handed them over. The seller accepted them with the same puzzled expression as the smoked meat guy. He turned them over slowly in his palm, eyes narrowing slightly like he wasn’t sure if they were legit. At least he didn’t bite them; just gave a slight nod and tucked them under the counter.
The store had changing rooms that could teach Earth’s changing rooms a thing or two. Each was about half the size of an average bedroom, carpeted, with an actual couch, a small table, and a weirdly shaped coat hanger that looked like it might double as modern art.
I changed quickly and stepped out, now officially dressed like a local. Mahya and Al were waiting for me beside Rue, both already dressed in the local attire.
“Found us an inn,” Mahya said.
“Where?” I asked.
“Three exits from here, the building across the exit.”
“Exits?” I frowned. “What exits?”
“We’ll probably see,” she replied with a shrug.
We started walking again. After the cluster of clothing stores came cookware and tableware shops, then linens, towels, and blankets. After that, a long stretch of stores for kids, everything from tiny clothes to toys, playground equipment to art supplies.
Right after the clothes section, I noticed a wide exit to the right. After the kids’ section, there was another one on the left. The section after that was massive and focused entirely on metal goods, everything from weapons to silverware, pipes, and tricycle spare parts. I spotted the third exit in the middle of the metal section.
When we stepped outside, I came to a full stop. We were on a completely different street from the one we came in from.
The massive interior made more sense now, though I was still sure it involved core shenanigans. At least now, it felt slightly less jarring. What was still jarring was that the mall inside didn’t have any variations in level. No stairs, ramps, or anything else. So how exactly did we enter from one street through a door in a building and exit somewhere completely different without ever going up or down?
It didn’t make any sense!
I kept that part to myself. No need to give them another reason to laugh at me.
Across the street stood a classic local building—a collection of upturned bowls stacked in a pyramid, topped off with the usual pointy spires. I was getting used to the architecture. It didn’t look quite as alien anymore.
Inside was a large open foyer, way bigger than the building should’ve allowed. There were definitely more core tricks at play. To the left was a restaurant area with big tables and fancy armchairs instead of chairs. Servers weaved between the diners, carrying trays stacked with colorful plates and steaming bowls. The smells drifting over made my stomach growl. Rue perked up at the sound and looked between me and the restaurant, but didn’t say anything.
On the right was a bar, louder and far less organized. A group of men sat around a few pushed-together tables, singing loudly and off-key. They banged their glasses on the wood in rhythm—or at least, in what they thought was rhythm. Laughter, slurred words, and the occasional cheer echoed through the space.
Further in were groupings of couches and people sitting around. One had a big cat at his feet, but this one was on a leash. I held my fingers crossed they wouldn’t ask me to put Rue on a leash. He hated those. Further in was an office with glass walls, a large counter manned by two women, and a few groupings of armchairs.
Al waved toward the office. “I will go and secure rooms for us. I suggest you go and secure a table for us in the restaurant.”
Securing a table was easy, but it came with a small caveat. When we approached the dining area, a server stepped forward, blocking our path with a polite but firm expression. He pointed at a narrow door in the wall I hadn’t noticed before.
“With a familiar, you can sit only outside.”
“We have a frien—” I started, but Mahya touched my arm lightly, cutting me off.
“No need,” she said in English. “Al is close enough for telepathy. I already let him know.”
The outside was a walled garden. Trees spaced along the edges offered pockets of shade, their branches shifting gently in the breeze. A small round fountain stood in the center, drawing a few birds that drank and splashed in the water, their wings flicking droplets across the stone rim. Low hedges separated the tables, tall enough to provide each group with a bit of privacy without obstructing the view. A light breeze moved through the space, carrying the smells of food. There were definitely more core shenanigans going on.
It was warmer than inside the building, but still pleasant enough to sit and eat without sweating through my shirt. Dinner was amazing. We told the server to bring us one of each of their best dishes and ended up with about thirty different things.
The smells were the first treat. Rich spices, grilled meats, something tangy and herbal, and a warm, buttery scent that made my mouth water. Every dish had its own personality. Some were sweet with a smoky edge, others spicy enough to make my nose tingle. One had a thick sauce that tasted like honey mixed with fire. Another was so sour it made me squint, then reach for more anyway. Everything was perfectly cooked, balanced, and loaded with mana. By the third plate, I stopped asking what each item was and just tasted them one after another.
The three of us tasted a bite or two of everything, went back for seconds on our favorites, and Rue did his heroic duty by finishing the rest. Besides the great food, the best thing about this restaurant was that they gave Rue a place at the table. Not a bowl on the floor, but an actual spot with an extra-large plate, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I looked around and saw other familiars eating at the tables with their humans.
Huh.
When Rue first said, “Rue is adventurer too,” and asked to eat with us, it seemed strange to me. I always figured eating from a bowl on the floor would be more comfortable for a dog. Apparently not.
Live and learn.
