TravelingDreamer
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B5—Chapter 28: They Need Signs
🕑 Added 2025-01-15 14:45:16 +0000 UTCThe next planned stop was a city marked on the Map. It was further away, so we used the balloon—none of us wanted to spend a few days riding. There were a lot of towns spread along the road, but that was the closest city, at least judging by the markers.
When we rose in the balloon, I wanted to ask the wind for a boost and facepalmed. I didn’t make nice with it. I shrugged and thought, worth a try. To my astonishment, it worked! I didn’t need to negotiate, cajole, convince, or anything else. I connected to her and asked, and it just worked. Scratching my head, I looked at my Personal Information. Is it because my Wind level is Medior now?
Whatever the reason was, I was glad it worked, and I didn’t have to establish a deeper connection beforehand. It was the same with Water when I skied without skis, but then I expected it. Fire was still Novice, so I knew it would take more negotiations to do something. And Earth didn’t even have a mastery level.
Oh, well, all in due time. Now, I’m on vacation.
We reached the city after a few hours of flying on our second day of the journey.
“We should land now, before they see us,” I said, gripping the edge of the basket. The wood felt warm under my fingers, heated by the sun.
“We can get closer; the obfuscation is active,” Mahya said, adjusting something on her gadget.
“The maniac on the sword did,” I said, tapping my fingers against the basket's rim. The faint creak of ropes filled the silence.
“You can’t compare.” She glanced at me. “It was a medium mana world, and he was in the high range of that world. Here? Not a chance.”
She looked so sure of herself that I let it go, crossing my arms as the basket swayed gently beneath us.
We flew over the city and looked down. It was huge, a sprawling patchwork of rooftops and winding streets stretching endlessly. Most of the buildings had blue-tiled domes and pointed towers, making the entire city look like something out of a fairy tale. A blue fairy tale. It wasn’t just one large cluster, either. Trees and small plazas separated different districts. The more affluent part stood out immediately. Clean streets, polished facades, and orderly gardens. However, further out, the buildings looked older and more crammed together, as if they had kept building without a plan.
The streets were busy, though picking out individuals from this height was hard. Crowds gathered in open squares, and a steady flow of people moved along the main roads. From here, they looked like tiny, colorful ants weaving through the city, some dragging carts, others gathering around market stalls. A handful of figures stood out near the more important-looking buildings, dressed in what I assumed were uniforms or robes.
“Looks promising," I said.
“They sure like blue,” Mahya said at the same time.
We exchanged a glance and smiled.
“You are both correct,” Al said.
Rue just continued drumming on the basket with his tail.
After a flyby over the city and some pictures, we found a good place to land, closed the balloon, and headed on foot.
“Do you have any plans?” I asked, glancing between Mahya and Al as we walked along a dirt road. My boots crunched against gravel with each step, and the distant hum of city life grew louder.
Mahya nodded, adjusting the strap of her pack. “I’ve got plenty of wands, staves, and other woodcraft projects to sell. It’s been ages since my Wood Artisan profession leveled up.”
I shifted my gaze to Al, who was inspecting the road ahead with his usual thoughtful expression. “I know I am very close to leveling up my Alchemist profession,” he said, a rare flicker of excitement in his voice. “I can almost taste level fifteen. I will also go sell potions.”
“What about you?” Mahya asked, tilting her head as her eyes shifted to Rue, who padded beside me, tail swaying.
“Rue and I will explore the city,” I said, giving Rue a quick glance. He perked up at that, ears twitching, clearly interested in wandering around.
“We should find an inn first, so we all know where to meet in the evening,” Al said.
“Yeah, good idea,” Mahya said, nodding.
Finding an inn proved easy, and after securing three rooms, they went to look for a place to sell, and Rue and I went exploring.
Towering stone buildings lined the cobbled streets, which seemed to stretch endlessly. The air smelled of smoke, manure, and food—a mix of civilization and grime. There were a lot of people on the streets, but they remained orderly. Vendors called out prices for their goods, their voices blending into a constant hum. Wooden carts creaked under the weight of vegetables, fabrics, and tools, and the clatter of hooves on stone echoed through the alleys. Now and then, a carriage rolled by, its driver sitting on a raised platform, flicking the reins to hurry along the animals pulling it. They were the same large sheep.
The architecture was sturdy. Rows of tall, narrow buildings lined the streets, each with thick wooden doors, wrought-iron balconies, and signs swinging in the breeze. Shops filled the ground floors, with apartments above. Laundry hung from ropes stretched between windows, swaying in the breeze as people hurried below.
Occasionally, I felt a subtle hum of mana here and there. It wasn’t like the regular mana I felt in the air, but changed, directed, like when the gang used spells. Since my Perception passed the 100 mark, I could feel it much better and easily differentiate between the flavors. A man repaired a cracked wagon wheel with a rune-covered tool, the glow of faint mana briefly lighting up the street before fading. I wanted to walk over and learn the runes, but he jumped up on the wagon and drove away before I overcame the awkwardness. A few streets over, a young guy was doing something to a crack in a door. The crack didn’t close, and it took me a moment to parse the flavor. Strength. He reinforced it.
While I was trying to figure out what happened to the door, some passing woman pinched my butt. I whirled around and shot her a glare, but she just shrugged and winked. I let it go—no point in starting a conflict over it.
People moved in tight clusters—laborers carrying sacks of grain, dockworkers or maybe fishermen with stained clothes stinking of fish, and women carrying baskets with various goods. I caught snippets of conversations: arguments over wages, rumors of trade deals, and complaints about taxes. There was a sense of constant movement, a flow of life that never stopped.
I glanced at Rue as we walked. He padded beside me, his eyes scanning everything. Now and then, he’d sniff the air, ears twitching toward something. His presence drew a few curious or startled stares—most folks probably hadn’t seen a dog his size before—but no one approached. They also didn’t scramble to get out of our way. I gave them a mental thumbs-up for their courage.
We passed by a square with a grand fountain in the center. I stopped for a moment to take it in. The statues around the fountain depicted dancing maidens around some hero with a sword raised high, their faces worn smooth by time. The water sparkled faintly—another hint of magic, maybe—and a few birds perched along the edges, unbothered by the surrounding activity.
We sampled some food from street vendors at Rue’s urging. The food was decent, but everything lacked salt. Rue didn’t mind. I did. I ended up handing over my portions, and he was delighted, scarfing it all down with a wagging tail.
We learned that the city’s name was Oléravai Isanouéa, or, in translation, Sky Dominion. That explained all the blue. The names definitely sounded better in the local language—lyrical, with a natural flow. Even the way they spoke carried a cadence, a rhythm that, when I tuned out the meaning, sounded more like reciting poetry than a casual conversation.
When we returned to the inn, Mahya and Al were already waiting at a table in the corner. Mahya waved us over.
“Dinner’s decent,” she said, gesturing to the plates on the table. “But you’ll want to grab the salt first.”
I chuckled, pulling out a chair. Rue hopped up beside me, his nose twitching at the food.
Al gave a slight nod of approval as I passed him the salt shaker. “Improves it significantly.”
Dinner consisted of baked fish with mashed something—not exactly potatoes, but close enough. The only problem was that the fish had a lot of bones, and I didn’t want Rue to hurt himself. Even with Telekinesis, those bones were problematic. I ordered him a triple portion of meat stew, and we all enjoyed our food.
After we finished eating—salt properly applied—Mahya leaned forward. “Let’s go. There’s a tavern nearby with live music. I heard it’s good.”
I raised an eyebrow. “This late?”
She was already on her feet. “Perfect time. Let’s go.”
Al glanced at me and shrugged, already standing to follow.
I sighed, pushing myself up from the chair. “Fine.”
Rue, already stretching out on the floor, lifted his head lazily. “Rue stay here,” he informed me, tail giving a half-hearted wag.
I frowned. “You don’t want to listen to music?”
His ears flicked once before he dropped his head back down. “No. Rue stay.”
With a shrug, I led him up the stairs. After letting him into our room and watching him flop onto the bed, I shook my head and joined Mahya and Al as we headed for the tavern.
The tavern was cozy but loud, packed with people despite the late hour. Dark wood walls, polished to a sheen, reflected the glow from low-hanging lanterns’. Long tables with benches filled the space, leaving just enough room for servers to weave through the crowd. The smell of alcohol hung heavy in the air, mingling with hints of pipe smoke and perfume. At the far end of the room, a small stage held a group of musicians playing an upbeat tune on string instruments, drums, and a wooden flute. The rhythm was fast and infectious, and several people danced in the open space near the stage.
Mahya was already tapping her foot to the beat, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Al stood beside her, arms crossed, scanning the room with his usual detachment. Then, without warning, his demeanor shifted. He straightened up, his gaze locking onto a guy leaning casually against a wall. “See you later,” he tossed over his shoulder before heading straight for him.
“I hope he doesn’t get punched in the face,” I said to Mahya, watching Al weave through the crowd with purpose.
She grinned, barely glancing his way as she kept tapping her foot to the music. “Nah, he’s fine. Like a bloodhound—he can find his prey with ease.”
Mahya went to dance, and I sat at the bar, ordering an ale more for something to do than out of thirst. It tasted like whiskey, nutmeg, and honey and was delicious. The alcohol content was too low to do anything with my Constitution, but the taste was top-notch. It wasn’t long before I felt someone slide into the seat next to me.
“You’re not from here.” The voice was playful, with a hint of curiosity.
I glanced over to find a woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, her lips curling into a soft smile. Her dress was simple but flattering, and her eyes showed a glint of confidence.
“Is it that obvious?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
She tilted her head, studying me. “Yes. New immigrant?”
“No. Just passing through,” I said, hoping that would end it.
She didn’t take the hint. “Well, welcome to Oléravai Isanouéa.” Her smile widened. “Do you have a name, or should I just call you the mysterious passer through?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “John.”
“John,” she repeated like she was testing the name. “Nice to meet you. I’m Liranya.” She rested her chin on her hand, her gaze lingering.
I sipped my drink, hoping the silence would discourage her. It didn’t.
“So, are you planning to stay long?”
“No, not really.” I leaned back slightly, trying to put a bit of distance between us. “Like I said, just passing through.”
She leaned in closer. “Pity. It’s not often we get visitors who look… well, like you.”
I gave a polite laugh, glancing around for Mahya or Al. No rescue in sight.
“I’m sure the locals are more interesting than me,” I said, keeping my tone casual. “I’ve already been told I stand out too much.”
“That’s not a bad thing,” she said, her smile turning sly. “Standing out can be intriguing.”
I cleared my throat, shifting in my seat. “I’m not really looking to be intriguing right now. Just here for a drink and some music.”
“Music’s better with company,” she said, undeterred. Her fingers traced the rim of her glass. “Don’t you agree?”
I gave a tight-lipped smile, trying again. “I’ve got company already. I’m traveling with friends.”
“They don’t seem to keep you entertained,” she countered, leaning in, her arm brushing against mine.
I sighed and set my drink down. “Listen, I’m not interested in the company of an entertainment girl.”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a second, I thought I might’ve gotten through to her. Then she slapped me—hard. The sharp crack turned a few heads.
“How dare you?!” she snapped before spinning on her heel and storming off, head held high.
Behind me, Mahya was laughing her ass off. Of course, now she showed up. I shot her a glare. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious,” she said between laughs. “You fall for a prostitute, then turn down a perfectly nice girl? This is priceless.”
I just banged my head on the bar.
Comments
Angela Roberts
Yeah, I was thinking they must have a limited pool of available guys.
Danielle Warvel
I mean, when you come on that heavy to a guy to literally just met, what other conclusion are you supposed to reach? It’s weird. At least spend five minutes trying to get to know him before turning on the flirt meter to max.
Angela Roberts
Well, an area to work on....
