Chapter 4: Chapter 3: The Village of Sacré Lasheir
Try not. Do or do not. There is no try.- Yoda
After taking care of my wounds and getting dressed, it was like playing the labyrinth with steroids. Or at least it seemed that way to me. The trees were never-ending, and colors kept on flashing by as I clambered clumsily and slowly through the woods. It didn't help that I only had one eye. At least the body I had was much more agile and lithe than I was used to, and therefore I was sure- that once I was used to it I could be quicker on my feet. Which lead me to practice how to keep my balance and how to be a gymnast. Literally. Climbing the trees, balancing on my toes as I walked across their tops. Which may have been one of the reasons that it felt like I was in a labyrinth. The colors were more prominent here above the ground than they ever were down there. A dizzying cascade of greens, browns, reds, pinks, oranges, blues, and even odd colors that shouldn't even be natural! But somehow it fits. The sun was high up in the sky by the time I found a dirt-stained path. Obvious caravan tracks and horse marks splayed like an artwork of patterns upon the path. The glittering sun made the dirt look almost a golden hazel hue, the leaves and flowers far brighter, invoking a sense of harmony. I followed the path in the treetops. It was easier. Or so I told myself. I wanted to find more information on what was going on. Therefore I needed a village. Though I had long since known, that everything would be old like carriage and knight old. I'm glad and a bit sad that I was right. But the clothes had given the time period away in anyways. Soon the trees thinned out, making way for a wide field. Crops of wheat and corn surround high walls of pristine obsidian. A small caravan of horses was further up the dirt road, where houses that looked close to ruins were situated right in front of the walls. I frowned. Perhaps I need some kind of permit to enter.....or not. My eyes trailed towards the carriage at the very back that was still within the high crop field. A plan forms quickly. In a reckless move that could be attributed to my excitement, I jumped.
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I was happy at that moment at my inability to concentrate on anything that my mind didn't find interesting or informative. As I remembered to duck and roll to alleviate gravity somewhat and release enough pressure on the ground that I didn't injure myself in my moment of stupidity. Quickly sprinting into the tall crop field and mentally calculating the chances of being noticed or my plan going horribly and unfortunately wrong.
"Ah, just go with it," I grunted and bolted out just as the carriage passed me by. Throwing myself to the ground and rolling forward before twisting and grasping, white-knuckled at the structure of the underside of the carriage, lifting myself up and pushing my body flat against the belly of the wooden structure. Nervousness gripped my lungs in a vice-like grasp, making me hold my breath. Stupid. Stupid. I repeated in my mind, berating my subconscious. I couldn't actually blame it, now can I? My life had never been filled with anything interesting, or daring. I was nothing more than your average male receptionist with stupid luck and an unhealthy addiction to reading and listening to interesting things. Making gossip my lifeline in a sense. I snorted and froze at the sound. Damn, if I get myself killed before I could even find out what the hell had happened, who I am in this world, and a few other things. I swear I'm going to strangle myself. Or the next ghost that would walk next to me. I relaxed my muscles forcefully. No use in keeping them tense after all. That would hurt more than a day on the wrong side of an angry dodgeball team ever would. Or could again. I blinked when the dirt road changed. The ground to sum it up, stank. It smelled like excrement, death, and blood. I wrinkled my nose and gagged. Gross! I titled my head away from the ground and watched the ruins of what I thought previously to be vacated houses. I was wrong. Ill-looking people sat, stood, or limped around the ruins. A child, barely four years old or seemingly so, held a rat above his lips before swallowing it whole. My eyes widened. The slums. This was what this place was. A woman was being dragged not far from the boy, but she seemed far too willing for it to be an actual kidnapping, yet by the lewd looks the two oldish men who were dragging her gave her, I'd say that she'd probably change her mind. Instantly the need to help folded my mind, but I shook it off. I needed to get into the city. From what I could make out there was a huge body of water beyond those walls and since we were so close to the border of this city- even if the camp had been almost two whole New York's apart from the city- that either I had lived here or over the body of water. It was possible. And though this was slightly selfish. I don't think I'd get another opportunity to slip through the gates if there was indeed a need for a permit. Not yet anyway. Plus I didn't want anyone to know I was alive yet, working in the dark for now to get more information seemed like a good plan. And to achieve that, being seen doesn't bode well, I also believe people will start to notice the missing bandits and go looking for them. Even if there was magic, it would be obvious to anyone that the trees there are nothing more than a cover-up for what had happened there. So better to let things cool down here before revealing myself. A foreign language had me cringing back only to swallow a gasp as the words were easily translated before they even reached my ears the second another word fell from whoever spoke.
"- preciated, even if you are traveling merchants from Wess. " Armoured boots walked around the carriage and I held my breath, chanting silently in my head: Please don't look underneath, please don't look underneath. Thankfully they passed without even bending down.
"Oh, sure. Here are our parchments." A chirpy voice said, sounding upbeat and musical. Amusement had me smothering another snort at her words. Somehow it seemed almost sarcastic the way she had spoken. Yet they were said with such serious words that it left even the guard speechless. The rustling of paper and the sniffing of the horses echoed like a bell in the sudden silence.
"You may pass. Welcome to the Port of Sacré Lasheir." The guard said. And I flinched rather violently when something heavy was pushed and dragged against the rough gravel. The name had me frowning, Of Old and New Life, was the port's name. How odd. Magic was real. I reminded myself. You can't get stranger than that.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone