Volume 1, Chapter 49: Please Ignore the Contraband Fireball (Patreon)

The rest of the journey along the river took us about two hours, during which I mostly admired the scenery, taking a closer look at the mechanism that allowed the ships to move along the riverbed—the bioluminescent fungal tendrils they used to grab onto the rocks and drag their hulls forward.

We were able to get that close because we had passed through a specially built gate in the palisade, which let us onto the actual road—now my reptodon was slowly picking its way along, practically right beside the river.

The port was already almost in front of us, and it looked nothing like what I had imagined. Rather than spreading outward along the riverbank, it had been built into a colossal half-cylindrical space that rose toward an immense opening leading to the surface. From high above, daylight poured down in wide, pale shafts, washing over the port and the countless buildings attached to nearly every inner wall of the cylinder, save for the side left open toward us. Those structures seemed to have grown and been constructed in equal measure, their forms combining stone, steel, ordinary wood, and the same strange fungal material I had already seen in the ships below.

Everywhere I looked, something was in motion. Elevators climbed and descended constantly along the curved walls, carrying workers, passengers, and cargo between different levels. People moved in every direction across platforms, stairs, and loading areas. From the enormous circular opening high above, thick ropes and iron hooks hung down in long swaying lines, clearly controlled by cranes stationed somewhere out of sight near the top. Crates, barrels, and entire pallets of goods were being hauled up from the docks, transferred from ships to the shore, and then lifted toward the city above in an uninterrupted stream.

What struck me most, however, was the scale of it all. The vessels we had been watching below seemed small compared to the immense architecture surrounding them. Even the river, broad and powerful as it was, felt less like a natural waterway here and more like the central artery of a giant subterranean harbor.

A large section of one side of that enormous half-cylinder had been built behind a waterfall. Water thundered down from somewhere above in a ceaseless roaring curtain, half veiling the structures behind it in mist and shimmering light. It vanished beneath the horizontal lower span of the port, then rushed through channels running underneath the entire complex before emerging again beyond it. From where I stood, it seemed as though that cascading torrent was the very source of the massive river itself, feeding it from beneath the port and sending it onward through the depths.

 “Gentlemen, we have arrived,” Hurrin said, stopping his mount in front of a building that looked like a stable. A dozen or so men dressed similarly to him moved around nearby, carrying long weapons and shields. Two of them were already walking toward us.

“We will leave the reptodons here, and you will be issued your residency documents. Once everything has been completed for you in accordance with the law and the purity of the air, you will be free to travel anywhere within the city’s outer ring.” He pointed toward the right side of the cylinder. “Ask around over there. Someone will certainly show you the way, and either by elevator or stairs you will reach the top of the Pit and the city itself.”

“Goddamn, that gotta be a whole lotta stairs,” Peter said, craning his neck upward and trying to see the rim where daylight spilled in, illuminating the waterfall crashing down on the left. Even though most of the port remained in shadow, the countless bioluminescent lights, gas lanterns, and torches made it surprisingly difficult to find anywhere that was truly dark. “Don’t know if these skinny-ass legs of mine ready for all that.”

“May I ask where you’re going?” I asked as I dismounted, following our guide and walking closer while holding my reptodon’s reins.

“I have documents to deliver to several people here at the outpost, and to one other place in the port. After that, I return to the wilderness,” Hurrin replied, taking the length of rope I used to steer my animal.

Peter finally dismounted as well and began preparing his own reptodon to hand over.

“Could I come with you? I don’t know anyone here besides you. I’d try to help, and once you have to leave, I’ll take care of myself.” I was curious about that other place he had mentioned. I wondered whether it had something to do with Plasario and his conflict with the orcs, and whether, somehow, it might be connected to something beyond their campaign around the city.

“It is only the port administration. Nothing interesting,” Hurrin replied, avoiding the eye contact I was trying to maintain.

“All the more reason, Master Hurrin. Maybe I’ll manage to find my first job here that way.”

“Do whatever y’all want. I ain’t tryna become nobody’s damn pack mule and spend my day haulin’ cargo,” Peter cut in. “Where exactly I get them papers?”

Hurrin pointed him toward the right place.

After we took our belongings from the mounts and handed the reptodons over to the local soldiers, Hurrin led us under their escort into the local office. He went off to file his report, while Peter was called first into a smaller room.

I waited in the hallway, where walls made from fungal material met a stone floor. Steel and wooden doorways to other rooms opened along the opposite walls, and behind a broad counter in front of me sat an old soldier dressed in layered leather armor. His beard was long and decorated with numerous beads, while the expression on his face was anything but trusting. He didn’t say a single word to me.

Two other soldiers stood in the middle of the room with their hands resting on their swords, watching me constantly.

Eventually, Peter opened the door and came out looking pleased, holding something that resembled a small rectangular wooden plaque.

He turned it toward me, showing me his name followed by the words residency permit, citizen of Salirion. All of it was written in a language I shouldn’t have known, and yet I understood it perfectly. I was even fairly certain I could write in it without any trouble, despite never consciously learning it.

“Ha! I’m officially a citizen of this amazing city where they hate folks with as much love inside ’em as me.” His eyes widened and his mouth stretched into a grin, his sunglasses pushed up onto his forehead. “Well, my man, I ain’t waitin’ around, Arthur. Sorry, but I ain’t lookin’ for no job down in this dungeon. I’m headin’ topside, get into banking or somethin’ like that, if you catch my drift.” He winked at me. “Hope we run into each other again, though.”

“Likewise,” I replied, holding out my hand.

He took it and squeezed.

“Next!” a male voice shouted from the room Peter had just left.

“He just actin’ tough. Dude’s a damn teddy bear. Good luck!”

Peter released my hand, gave me an American-style salute, and headed toward the exit.

Still wearing my backpack, I picked up my bag and the staff containing Bri, who was doing everything in her power to make herself into the smallest ball of fire she possibly could, and entered the room I had been called into.

“The door,” said a short man dressed in nothing but a loose, airy shirt.

I closed it behind myself, while studying his person. He had no beard, but instead wore a pair of long mustaches that grew outward before hanging almost halfway down his chest. Two red beads decorated each one. His head was bald and wrinkled, and his eyes were small and ratlike, matching the oversized nose that formed the obvious center of gravity of his face.

“That fire. Do you have to carry it with you?”

“I’m a traveling wizard. I feel safer with it nearby,” I replied, slipping into character.

I would have to be more theatrical in the city. This time, I wanted to make certain that both the locals and the Earthlings would have a harder time pointing at me and saying that I clearly didn’t belong here. “I trust that, with hearts open to fortune’s blessing, the people of this city will welcome the sight of the Flame of Good Fortune. I know that in these lands, evil spirits sometimes disguise themselves as sacred fire and bring bad luck and misery—something we deeply lament in my homeland. That is precisely why I, along with many others like me, have been sent to these parts: to demonstrate that fire may also be a force for good.”

The soldier listened while holding the documents, undoubtedly prepared by Rodrick or Plasario, glancing at me only occasionally. He sat behind a desk made from equal measure wood and fungi.

I took a chair in front of him.

“It says here that you helped Company Grandmaster Plasario retake Frogflower. Mentions considerable merit, too. But it also says you are accompanied by a fire spirit that follows you everywhere.” He raised his eyebrows and looked toward my staff. “It explicitly says that spirit is not to be allowed into the city. Is that the spirit?”

“Unfortunately, Bri, my companion—and a representative of the Flame of Fortune—burned herself out during our journey. We had a brief encounter with a necromancer, and she could not withstand such terribly dark energy. All I have left of her is an ordinary flame… and the memory I will forever carry in my heart…”I continued feeding him increasingly ridiculous stories about her for a good ten minutes, barely giving him a chance to get a word in. Eventually, I allowed myself a deeper breath.

He seized the opportunity immediately.

“Fine, fine… just get the fuck out of here, sir. If you cause trouble, the city guards can deal with you. Not my circus, not my lizards.” He handed me the wooden plaque he had prepared during my monologue. “You know the city laws?”

“Yes.” I nodded, stood up and took my stuff.

“Then goodbye. No reason to stand around. With the wind! Go!” He waved his hand, shooing me away. This time opportunity was my for seizing.

On my way toward the exit, I turned back to the man in the main hall.

“My deepest apologies, dear master, but has Master Hurrin perhaps already left the meeting he went to?”

“No.” He lowered his gaze to the empty desk and began studying it as though something of great importance had appeared there.

I shrugged and stepped outside. After walking a few paces, I passed between the soldiers guarding the entrance to the port, showing them the permit I had just received. Once I was through, I approached the stone edge of the river and found a place to sit on what I assumed was a stone bench carved for exactly that purpose.

The actual port looked to be about a ten-minute walk from here, so I only glanced toward it from time to time, watching both the ships and everything happening around them while I waited for Hurrin to come out of his meeting.

“I was, um, actually really proud of myself when you described me like that,” Bri whispered, increasing her size slightly.

Black smoke drifted upward, from the top of the staff I was leaning against, while sitting.

“Please always make sure there’s nobody nearby before you speak. This isn’t a place friendly to beings like you, Bri. We’ll have to be very careful about who we talk to before you can open yourself up to the world again.” I whispered back to her with my forehead resting on the steel rod of the staff.

“Mhm. I know. I, um, understand. And I looked around before I said anything… I’m not, um, stupid…” She sounded slightly offended. A mixture of black and gray smoke rose above her again.

“Bri, you can see I’m doing everything I can so you can travel with me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… it just, um, made me feel good before, and now it doesn’t as much. I thought that, um, after everything we’ve been through, well, you trusted me more to know what I’m doing. I didn’t say anything around other people the entire way here… you don’t have to, um, explain everything to me…”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I admitted that she was right—which, of course, she was—but I did it more to calm her down than because I wanted to admit I had made a mistake.

“We can, um, talk about it another time,” she replied. “It’s a beautiful place, right? I mean, well, not exactly beautiful—it’s a port. It’s dirty, and you can already hear all the noise from here, but still, um… somewhere inside, I feel like I’ve never seen anything like this before, even though, well, technically I haven’t seen anything at all. You understand?”

“I understand. I think I understand, Bri. It’s definitely breathtaking.”

Bri stayed quiet for a while after that, and together we simply focused on the view.

“Bri, did you know the Daimon tracks what connects us to other people, as well as what we need in order to unlock the possibility of gaining new abilities?” I asked, leaning away from the staff and looking at her briefly. Soon after, I turned my head toward the port so the soldiers wouldn’t see that I was talking to a flame.

“Well, yeah. You didn’t know?”

“I never really dug into it. I don’t entirely trust it, but I was bored during the trip, so I started checking what it could do. Can you tell me how I’m identified there for you?”

“Identified?”

“What name I appear under.”

“Well, um, as you. Just… as you. It reads things the way we, well, understand a concept, right? So I just know it means you.”

“Bri.” I exhaled, dragging a hand across my face. “Sometimes I’m unbelievably stupid. You’re absolutely right. I was worrying for nothing.”

“You were afraid that, what, everyone would, um, know who you really are?”

“Something like that.”

“Maybe, um, that’s also why you don’t trust the Daimon that much… and why you don’t want to improve your abilities?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe subconsciously you feel like you should’ve chosen a different Path, you feel connected to a different concept more—the artist one. Well, because how could it be anything else? Um, it had the highest compatibility for you, right?”

“Yeah. Where are you going with this?”

“Maybe, um, if you developed your abilities so they matched both the fact that you feel like an artist and the fact that they belong to fire, then, um… you wouldn’t feel like you were being cheated? Pyrography is, well, basically artistic control over fire, right?”

“Maybe. Possibly. If something like that comes up, I’ll definitely give it more serious thought, Bri. Thanks for the suggestion,” I whispered to her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement inside the small garrison. I turned my head and saw Hurrin emerging from the building, bowing to the other soldiers before starting toward me.

“Um. Time to be quiet. Again… I hate, um, this part.”