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The Fusionist Book 3 -- Chapter 51
🕑 Added 2023-10-05 19:19:46 +0000 UTCChapter 51
Instead of the stone and wood construction of the buildings he was used to, the first thing that Larek noticed when he was close enough to the town to understand what he was looking at was that none of them were constructed of anything he was familiar with. Instead of wood being the main component in the construction of their walls, it was a strange mixture of what appeared to be dirt or clay with long strands of plant fibers interlaced in an interesting overlaying pattern. It was only when he looked closer at the fibers that he realized they had likely come from the trees he had just left, though from their leaves and branches rather than their trunks.
The roofline of the buildings he saw were angled like he was used to seeing, which helped to let rain fall off it, but instead of tiles or even thatch comprising the material, they were created using the dried, leathery-like versions of the leaves from those same trees. They were layered so that they covered the entire roof without any holes or gaps, and they appeared easy enough to replace if they were damaged. Larek thought that it was an ingenious use of the local plant life, as it didn’t seem as though they had a lot of wood available for some reason – despite the forest nearby.
In fact, the only construction he saw that used wood at all were the doors and window shutters he saw on the buildings, but from the look of them, he understood why they weren’t used in normal construction. Having seen plenty of lumber in his relatively short life, he could tell right away that the wood he saw was unsuitable to large construction projects, as it had a “rubbery” component to it that was visible even at a distance; where it was attached to metal hinges, the doors he saw almost appeared to sag in place, though it wasn’t enough to compromise the purpose of the doors. It was more that they were a bit more flexible than the former Logger would expect from any type of wood, and he briefly wondered what Verne would say about it. That inevitably made his thoughts venture toward his friends, but he pushed them aside.
He was truly on his own for the first time since he left home and he needed to keep his priorities straight in order to survive. Right now, those priorities didn’t include thinking about friends that were an unknown distance away from him and who likely wouldn’t even know him if he saw them again.
The buildings on the edge of the town seemed to be residences of some sort, and most of them were smaller in comparison to what he could see further in. After passing the first few orderly rows of these tiny houses, the road went from being dark-colored dirt to long planks of wood underneath his feet that covered the entire width of the avenue. His first few steps on the strange wooden walkway proved that he was correct in his observation of the wood as a building resource, as it was springy underneath his feet; whether it would bend freely or if it would break once it bent past a certain point was unknown, but it was obviously quite durable and lightweight despite its extreme flexibility.
Since he was still surrounded by the riders that had ordered him to accompany them, he wasn’t able to see much other than the buildings very well, but he caught glimpses of the people the large group passed as they made their way toward what seemed like the center of the town. Scurrying groups of the same individuals he saw out in the fields were the most prominent at first, and from what he saw of them, they appeared curious and carefree at the same time as they saw the procession pass them.
Once past the smaller residences, which seemed to be largely inhabited by these people, the size of the buildings grew to two and three stories, using the same sort of construction as the others. Whatever the resource they used to build the structures appeared to be just as strong as wood and stone, if even more so, and toward the center of the town the largest buildings were four stories tall.
The type of people they passed changed along with the buildings. Soon enough, there weren’t any of the pale-skinned, rag-wearing individuals from the fields outside, as they were replaced by a darker-skinned people that were all wearing thin, loose clothing in primarily light colors such as white and tan, and they wore wide-brimmed hats that appeared useful for blocking out the sun. Their skin was darker in color than those in the Kingdom, but not nearly as dark as Penelope; they were somewhere in between, though there were also various shades that got closer to one extreme or the other. The only other thing he noticed about them was the shape of their eyes, which were slightly larger than seemed normal to him, though not significantly; they weren’t exactly huge, but even a 25% larger size than he was used to was noticeable.
Larek found their group approaching what was likely the largest building in the entire town, which was four stories tall and was large enough to house at least a few hundred students if it was back at the Academy. Once they got close enough, the group of riders stopped in front of the entrance and spread our around him in a semi-circle with him in the middle, facing toward the building; only the leader – or so he supposed, as she was the only one that spoke to him – was apart from them, as she swung down from her mount and approached him.
Pulling off her helmet exposed her full face for the first time, and he wasn’t surprised to see that her darker skin and jet-black shoulder-length hair matched the second type of people he saw inside the town – though her piercing, violet-colored eyes were certainly different. He hadn’t actually gotten a great look at eye-coloring as they walked through the town, so he supposed that everyone may have had the same or something similar.
“Come with me,” she said roughly. “If you try to escape or harm anyone else, I will put you down faster than you can blink.”
Having already put his axe away earlier so as to not present a greater threat to these people, his hands were free to put up in front of him placatingly. “I have no intention of doing anything until this misunderstanding is settled.” She scoffed at his words but didn’t respond any other way; instead, she just turned around and walked a few steps up to the entrance of the building, and for the first time Larek was able to get a better look at its construction.
Various openings along the bottom of the outside wall were strange to him, because it almost looked as if they had deliberately weakened the foundation. It was only when it appeared to be relatively hollow underneath the building that he took another look at the wooden walkways around town, seeing that they were actually slightly suspended above the ground, leaving approximately 4 or 5 inches of space underneath. Thinking about the river nearby and how the fields appeared partially flooded, he could only deduce that the town also flooded at some point, and these openings and the suspended walkways were essential to managing the water without it flooding their homes and being able to get around without having to wade through what could essentially be a small lake.
His deductions were dismissed from his mind as he had to duck his head in order to walk inside the building, which was only partially illuminated from the light of the windows, but it was bright enough to see that he had entered a relatively large room that held more of the armored individuals like the riders outside and his violet-eyed escort, though they appeared much more relaxed with their helmets off. When he entered, however, they stiffened their stances and eyed him warily as he passed them at their various tables where they were eating and drinking; Larek was reminded of the Inn he had just stayed at, as there was a bar set up along the rear of the room, with a few other armored guards sitting on stools right up against the long counter.
The leader of the riders led him to the right and through yet another doorway he had to duck slightly to get through, and Larek stopped immediately upon seeing the pair of scavengers that had found him near the lake. They were sitting in a pair of what appeared to be some sort of woven fabric chairs behind a large wooden table, and one of them was cradling his hand, wrist, and lower arm which had been wrapped in a cloth bandage with a splint, showing clearly where Larek had accidentally broken it as he lashed out.
“Sit.” The order was given by his escort, who pointed toward another chair situated in front of him and on the opposite side of the table where the scavengers were sitting. When he hesitated, the violet-eyed leader flipped her spear down until the speartip was pointed at his throat; even though it was a few feet away, he could sense the threat implied in the maneuver. Granted, if she attempted to stab him in the neck, his Repelling Barrier Fusion would kick in, but he didn’t think it was time to test its efficacy.
So, he sat.
He wasn’t in the chair – which bent alarmingly beneath him, as he realized that the frame was made of the same spongy wood he’d seen throughout town – for more than a few seconds before someone else walked into the smallish room from an adjacent doorway. Larek looked at the newcomer and was reminded of Inquisitor Carl back in Barrowford; while the other person wasn’t a Mage, he wore a fancier set of clothing compared to those he saw about town, though in white and yellow. He also wore a thick chain of what appeared to be braided gold and silver around his neck, with a large medallion depicting some obscure symbol he couldn’t immediately identify on it.
“Thank you for finding the alleged perpetrator of this crime so quickly, Protector Ashlynn,” the man said quickly, even as he jumped up to sit on a tall stool that had him towering over everyone in the room. His short dark-brown hair was nearly black in coloring, though Larek could see signs of greying throughout its length; his darker skin was also slightly wrinkled, but the Fusionist couldn’t tell if it was from age or from being exposed to the sun.
“Just doing my duty, sir.”
Turning his attention to the others in the room, the man on the tall stool looked at the two scavengers first. “I want to confirm that this is the individual who allegedly harmed you. Would you be able to definitively say this person is the perpetrator?”
Both of the rag-wearing scavengers nodded with anger in their faces. “Ye’, dis de wan dat don do et. ‘e bro’ me ‘arm!” said the one with the splint.
“Thank you.” Turning to Larek, the man had a stony face as he asked, “Do you refute that you were the one that harmed one of the Ectorian people?”
Larek thought about lying, but it was obvious that they already knew he was guilty. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, though he equated the process to what had happened back in Rushwood village with the Headman’s daughter. This, however, felt a bit more… fair, perhaps?
Still, he didn’t know who these Ectorians were, nor why it seemed like such a big deal that he had hurt one of them. It was an accident, after all, and surely, they had someone that might be able to heal them?
Or… maybe they don’t. If this isn’t the Kingdom, it isn’t likely that they have a Mage that can heal nearby.
Regardless, he was going to admit his guilt while defending his actions, while also volunteering to heal the individual so that they was no ultimate harm done.
“I don’t refute it, but the whole thing was an accident,” Larek said. “He was trying to steal my pack from me, and I inadvertently struck out and hit his arm, breaking it.”
“Is this true?”
“Na, ‘o course na! I neva ta’ fro’ nane, ya know dat!”
Larek was starting to understand the speech of the scavenger a little better the more he heard, but it was still difficult to parse through the meaning. Still, he thought he understood what the man meant.
“He probably thought I was a corpse,” Larek interjected as an explanation. “It was an honest mistake, just like my own inadvertent attack. I’d be willing to—"
“Why would Gwest think you were a corpse?” the man on the stool asked, cutting Larek off before he could fully offer to heal the scavenger. Or I suppose I should think of him as Gwest, as that is apparently his name.
“Because I had to drag myself out of the lake and I was practically half-dead at the time,” the Fusionist said in way of explanation.
“And why were you in the lake?”
NowLarek hesitated to answer, because he wasn’t sure what he should say. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the speartip that Protector Ashlynn was directing inch closer to his neck, which he realized was moving slow enough that his protective Fusion wouldn’t even activate. Sweating slightly, he cleared his throat while he talked his way through an explanation.
“I, uh, suddenly appeared above the lake and fell inside. Before you ask, I’m not entirely sure how I ended up there, other than I was fighting a Warped Void Hunter and was hit by one of its attacks; that was the last thing I knew before I found myself falling into the lake.” He paused for a second before going on. “In fact, I have no idea where I am in relation to the Kingdom of Androthe.”
That last bit caused everyone in the room to inhale suddenly in surprise. Strangely enough, the spear threatening him from the side was withdrawn after a moment and the butt of the spear *thunked* against the floor, which was made of the same material as the rest of the building.
“Kingdom of Androthe? You’re a… what do they call you? Soldier? Fighter?” the man wearing the chain asked after a few seconds of staring at Larek.
“Do you mean a Martial?” Assuming that was what the man meant, Larek began to shake his head, but then he realized that it might make more sense to these people than admitting that he was a Mage. If he couldn’t cast spells, after all, then it would be difficult to prove; without also the ability to create any Fusions, at least for the time being, he was basically without any way to demonstrate his skills as a Mage. “Yes, I’m a Martial – though I’m still in training,” he said, adding the last as an explanation if they chose to test him somehow. He had the strength to prove that he had the stats, at least, though if they asked about any fighting skills, he would just have to admit that he hadn’t learned much yet. It was even technically the truth, given the transfer letter in his pack.
“Ah. That explains much. What is your name, Martial trainee from the Kingdom of Androthe?”
“My name is Larek,” he answered immediately, before glancing at the injured Gwest. “I want to reiterate how sorry I am to have hurt you, as it was not my overall intention. To make up for that, I have something that can help heal your injury within seconds,” he added, gesturing toward the would-be scavenger, “though I need to eat something beforehand to regain my strength and you’ll need something to eat afterward.” There was no way he was going to take his robe off in order to heal the man, so he would need more sustenance to recover his weakened state before he did another healing. With the damage that was done to the man, he was fairly certain the Healing Surge Fusion would only cause Gwest to become extremely hungry rather than send him into a coma.
“Would that make amends for the damage done to you?” the important man on the stool asked.
Gwest thought about it for a moment, but after eyeing Larek for a few seconds, he nodded.
“Before I do that,” the Fusionist added, looking at the man with the chain and medallion, “could you tell me where I am?”
The man smiled as he answered. “Right now, you’re in the glorious town of Enderflow, situated at the western end of the Empire of Sealance.”
Empire of Sealance… Empire of Sealance… I don’t remember that from my Geography of the SIC class. “Where, if you happen to know, is the Empire of Sealance located in relation to the Kingdom of Androthe?”
“Ah, yes, now that is a good question,” the man said, his smile becoming a bit wider for some reason. “Let’s just say that you’re a very long way from home.”
That’s… just great.
