2080 words (8 minute read)

1.2 Lian

The white, pointed towers of the city of Brahna glistened in the mid-morning light. The air smelled heavily of seaweed and salt, the scent carried on a strong breeze that lifted the heavy blue banners of the city and waved them about for all to see. The city itself was hidden away behind enormous white stone doors gilded in hammered gold, depicting epic battles whose outcomes had long since been decided.

Lian stepped down onto the wooden planks of the pier. The boards, warped by the elements, creaked and groaned in protest, but they held fast. Around him were swarms of men unloading crates and barrels of cargo onto the dock. It took quite an effort to squeeze through the commotion before he found himself on the landing.

He had to crane his neck back until he felt like he would fall over before he could see the top of the gate. Higher still were the towers on either side. Beyond them, Lian could just make out the craggy mountains that surrounded the rest of the country like a protective barrier.

"Is all of Reist so…big?" he wondered aloud. No one seemed to hear him over the screeching of snowy gulls and the avid chatter of those around him. The congregation gathered on the ivory cobbles before the gate. A shrill whistle blew from among the crowd, answered a few short moments later by a single, clear note from a horn.

From behind the gates came the creaking of ancient wooden cogs, then the grinding of stone on stone as the gates began to open inward. Lian tried to adjust himself, raising up onto his toes to see the inside of the city, ears ringing from the pounding of his heart. Excitement thrummed through his veins, and he was hardly able to contain himself.

The gates opened to reveal a huge commerce square, with shops and carts and merchants perched here and there selling wares. He could hear the near most one, a man selling clay vases, calling out to two women from halfway across the square trying to coax them into a purchase. Two guards appeared at the narrow opening between the gates, swathed in the blue and white colors of the city of mages.

Lian stood in the line that was quickly forming before the guards. The idea flashed through his mind as he clutched his papers close to his chest, that maybe they wouldn’t allow him to enter. To have come all this way just to be denied at the door! Oh, how terrible that would be! The voyage had cost him a lifetime of savings, and his had not been a short life. The thought of being forever stuck on this little cobble area scared him, begging day after day for scraps of food or a few coins to save for a voyage home.

A tap of his shoulder brought him back to the present. He approached the guard, who didn’t bother enough to look up from the stack of papers in his own hands. "Name and purpose?"

"From his majesty’s province of Sadolhelm, Lian of the eastern kingdom of Haevan, I am. Here as a scholar, you see."

"I’ve never heard of this Sadolhelm, Lian of Haevan, but you’ve got the king’s tongue, all right." He affirmed, speaking of Lian’s distinct manner of speaking and accent. "Papers," the guard said while extending his hand. Into it, Lian placed the sealed scroll, wax seal glimmering. The guard opened it, briefly scanned its contents, and stamped it before he returned it. "Very well. I’ll just ask you to place a hand here." He pointed to a pedestal-type object just behind him.

It was purple and white, swirled like an angry storm, and at the top was a square hole big enough for the largest man to lay flat his palm. Inside was a thin film of silver liquid. He hesitated only a moment before placing the hand of his right into the basin. The consistency was a cool, thick jelly soup. It glowed purple as he did so, and the guard asked him to remove his hand and allowed him to pass through.

"Thanks a many to you," Lian responded, tucking the scroll back into his bag. He hurried out of the way, letting one hand graze upon the door briefly as he passed through the narrow opening, and into the hustle and bustle of the city. The area ahead, he told himself, was the bazaar, for it was littered with barrels and carts, cases and all manner of wares. From this vantage point, Lian noticed that the city had the slightest of slopes to it. The roads, which disappeared around the corner at the back of the square, gently crept up until, at the very center of the city, lay a great white building topped with blue cones.

He could almost swear he felt the charged air swimming with energy. Very fitting for the mage city. That, after all, was why Lian was here. Brahna was a place where anything could happen. Every great mage called this place home, for nowhere else were the few magic users called mages; each land had its own title for them.

For now, he was rather uncertain where to go, carrying all of his possessions in a knapsack on his back. He knew no one in Brahna, in all of Reist, to be exact. That would have been rather helpful, but there was no use sulking now. With nowhere in particular to go and in no sort of hurry to do anything, he allowed himself to walk among the vendors.

This one sold special herbs, and this one sold maps; he even came across one man who was advertising enchanted rings! He bought a map, the merchant asking for his alignment, whatever that was, and getting perturbed at Lian’s utter bewilderment. Eventually he handed him a plain map on thick brown parchment, like some kind of leather. For sure, it was soft and most unlike anything he had seen before.

The map showed, as Lian had begun to expect, that the city was perfect circle, with the big castle at its center. There was one road leading up to there, with the remainder of the streets like some circular maze. There were two gates in the city; the Sea Gate, and one directly opposite it on the north side, the Forest Gate.

He looked around him, and saw the crowd had thinned out enough for him to see the centerpiece of the square for the first time. It was an enormously wide fountain, carved into the likeness of a dragon, on top of which sat a man raising his sword to the heavens. Though unaccountably ancient, flecks of gold caught the light from the scales of the mighty dragon and his rider’s armor alike.

Lian once again tore his attention from the city’s wonders to focus on his needs. He would need a place to stay for a time, until he figured out his next move. Scanning the area, he looked for the inn he had spotted earlier. The Traveler’s Inn was dark, even for this time of day. There was an old man behind the counter.

"Excuse of my entrance I beg of you," Lian began. The owner looked up from his tallies.

"Yes?"

"For bothering you, I’m sorry. To ask a room for the night is why I’ve come."

"I’m afraid I’ve no spare rooms this evening, what with the boats just come in and all. I’d try back in two days’ time, once they’ve set sail and all."

"I see," Lian responded with disappointment. "Well, thanks a many."

"Wait," the owner called out. "Try the Silver Dragon, further into the city. Visitors don’t normally travel that far in," he said, "but it’s really not too far, if you know where to look."

Lian’s smile was genuine. "Greatly appreciated is the help you offer." Stepping out into the sun, he had to shield his eyes. It was rather blinding out. He ventured out into the street once more, the immaculate cobblestone reflecting the sun’s rays like jewels. The smell of unfamiliar spices and fresh baked goods permeated the air, a stark reminder that he had not yet eaten.

Once more, however, he found his gaze drawn to the great citadel. Lian stood gawking in the middle of the street, unable to help it. It was then that someone ran into him, the force throwing him onto the ground. Stars flashed before his eyes, and there was a deafening ring in his ears. Groaning, Lian propped himself up onto his elbows to get a look at his attacker, who was currently sprawled out on top of him.

"Shadows!" He heard someone say, the woman who had apparently collided with him. He felt the weight lift before he was grabbed under the arm and pulled up, along with a hasty, "Sorry," attached to it. He had half a mind to yell at her when he felt a large jolt of energy tear through him. Lian looked up, and from the woman’s expression, she had felt it too. The shock had subsided, leaving his whole body tingling.

There were shouts from behind, and the girl’s eyes widened as she hurried away. Following closely were three armed city guards, hands on their sheathed sword hilts. Shaking his head, Lian continued to wade through the crowded streets, unable to shake the thoughts from his mind. Was that magyk he had felt? For sure, he had never experienced anything like it in his life.

The strange tingling sensation had barely subsided when he found the Silver Dragon Inn the man had talked about. There was a sign over the door with a dragon carved into the wood. Outside the door was a wonderfully carved dragon, rearing up on its hind legs, a ferocious roar on its face. As he approached it, the dragon went down on all fours, unfolding its wings and stretching nose to tail with a yawn. Lian’s eyes widened. Real magyk? Incredible! He forced himself away from the fascinating treasure by telling himself he would see plenty of such things in the months and years to come. The building itself was cheerful looking, with a polished door that was edged with sharp ivory teeth inlaid in the wood.

It was though the whole town had some kind of obsession. If they did exist at one point, they had long since been wiped out. Either way, dragons lived only in stories now. Even Lian knew that.

There were few people in the common room. At each side of the almost square room was a fireplace, now filled only with cold ash. Between each of the fireplaces, there was a slathering of tables and chairs. In the back left of the room was a staircase leading up, and to the right of that was a counter.

Lian was given the immediate sensation that he was in a forest; every square inch of wall space was covered in an array of overlapping tapestries depicting green foliage. As Lian’s eyes traveled around the room, men came into the pictures. Then, a scene of an epic battle, and then, nothing; it was a peaceful forest again, as if it had just been cut off.

"May I help you?" Lian turned and saw a woman behind the counter, near the back wall. Above the counter was not a tapestry, but a painting. It showed a beautiful, sparkling pool in the middle of a forest. Resting atop a rock was a great, blue-silver dragon sleeping, but with one eye open, watching. "Hello?"

"A room to beg of you for the night, I’ve come to ask."

"A room for the dark?" she asked in return as if unsure of his peculiar speech. "I do. Will that be for the one night, or an extended stay?"

"Most likely, for a while I’ll be here. Has he a name?" Lian asked of the dragon.

"Tanin," said the lady. "It was painted by Ramos himself." From her tone of admiration, Lian surmised that it was someone he should know, had he been a native of this place.

He had a lot to learn.

Next Chapter: 1.3 Rhavara