Leny was exactly as before. His eyes fixed ahead, the reins of the horse in his calloused hands, his expression as serious as ever. He seemed unaffected by what Nwyn had just experienced, his focus entirely on the road ahead. The silence between them, so common during their travels, felt heavier now. The young man didn't know what to do with what he felt, and wasn't even sure if he should speak about it with Leny. Perhaps it was better to forget. It was easy to get lost in the routine, to move forward without leaving room for doubt. The old man even pretended nothing had happened a moment ago, and the boy played along.
The road stretched ahead, with trees scattered along the edges, their shadows growing longer as the evening light deepened. The landscape appeared unchanging, with green fields crisscrossed by small streams snaking quietly through the land. The wind still blew, but now it was stronger, as if trying to push Nwyn's thoughts from his mind.
They continued on their journey for several more hours. The sound of the cart wheels became more monotonous, and the steady rhythm of the horse seemed to mirror the distant beating of a heart, unshakable. The wind had shifted, bringing with it a heavier scent, a blend of earth and something urban, more distant. Nwyn didn't know exactly what it was, but he felt a growing pressure in his chest, as if the city was inevitably drawing closer.
The sun hung lower now, casting long shadows across the road. The landscape began to slowly transform. The land, once barren and lifeless, gave way to a more organized structure. The dirt road was replaced by rustic cobblestones, forming a firm and well-defined path, as if the city were slowly taking shape around them. Nwyn watched, unease creeping up on him, as the rough, square stones were laid out in a pattern that seemed stubbornly insistent on maintaining its symmetry, despite the wear of time.
As they advanced, the sound of the wheels against the cobblestones grew sharper, more definite. And then, he saw it: tin lampposts rising along the road, placed regularly every kilometer. Their metallic, rusted silhouettes stood out against the orange and purple sky of dusk. What struck Nwyn the most, however, were the lanterns. They were all extinguished, without a spark of light, as though forgotten, left behind by someone who no longer cared.
He remembered Garlei's words, those he had heard during one of his visits to the farm, sitting by the fire. He had told him how, in the past, those lanterns had been lit every night to guide travelers toward the Central. The warm glow of the light, lighting the way, indicated they were approaching something significant. For the people of the city, the lanterns were a mark of progress, a symbol of welcome. For Nwyn, however, they were more than that: they were a certain path.
But they never did it. They never finished the path. The boy thought.
The reason for this, he knew, lay in the silent animosity between the Central and the Kingdom of Linteal. The empire had been responsible for building the road, but the Central, in an effort to maintain its independence and protect itself, had refused to complete the work. The road, which should have been a bridge between the two regions, was curtailed by issues of power and distrust. The idea of lighting the lanterns all the way to the "royal road," as they called it, had long been abandoned, making that stretch of both the city and the road something forgotten, relegated to neglect by the people.
As they moved further along the cobblestone path, the landscape around them grew denser, and the first signs of life from the Central began to reveal themselves. When they reached the city gate, Nwyn saw that it was open, which was a good sign. The gate was large, made of wrought iron, with intricate details forming a pattern of curves and interwoven lines. On either side, robust pillars rose, giving the entrance an imposing air, as though guarding something valuable.
Inside, two guards were stationed by the gate. They were strong men, dressed in simple but well-made uniforms of brown and gray. When they saw the cart approaching, the guards raised their arms in greeting.
"Leny?" one of the guards called out, smiling at the sight of the old man. "Good journey? How's the farm?"
"Messy." Leny replied, with a tired smile. "A farm is always a mess. But everything's fine. Brought some goods to sell, the usual."
The other guard nodded and gestured for them to pass. "Go on, the gate's open. Enjoy the evening."
With one last exchange of glances, Leny guided the cart into the city, and Nwyn couldn't help but be impressed by what he saw. The city seemed to be in a constant state of motion. People hurried along the streets, bags of goods in hand, carrying tools, fabrics, and food. The narrow streets were crowded with merchants, street vendors, and artists. The sound of conversations and haggling filled the air, and the smell of food wafted from various taverns and stalls, mixing with the scent of leather and metal from the clothes of the locals.
The city's architecture was a fusion of styles: simple stone buildings mixed with more modern wooden structures, their large windows thrown open to the cool evening air. Leny guided the cart with a sense of familiarity, while Nwyn observed everything closely, feeling the tension of being in a new place.
As they moved through the bustling streets, Nwyn noticed the change in atmosphere. It was already dusk, the long journey had stretched the day into evening, bringing with it a soft, golden light that cast long, gentle shadows on the buildings. The city seemed to be preparing for something, perhaps for the night that was soon to come.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of loud laughter and the distant beat of a drum, as if the city was warming up for a great celebration. He noticed that drinks were being served at many of the taverns along the street. Nwyn knew about this from Garlei, who had told him about the Central's policy: during the day, the sale of alcohol was prohibited, to ensure that no one worked drunk or incapable of performing their duties. But when night fell, the rules were relaxed. Alcohol was permitted, and more than that, it was sold at much lower prices, with part of the cost covered by the Forten family, the founders of the city.
From a certain hour, the streets filled with people talking, laughing, and often singing. There was an animated energy in the air, as if the exhaustion of a long day's work was dissolved by the vibrancy of the night.
— This is what a real city looks like, — Leny said, watching the hustle with an experienced and gleaming look. — Here, even those who are unlucky will find a good pair of breasts to sleep on.
Nwyn ignored him, scanning the surroundings, feeling a little out of place amidst that frenetic energy. In one of the taverns to the left, he saw a group of men and women dancing to a lively tune. Oil lamps hanging on the walls cast a warm, yellowish glow over the moving figures. Outside, stalls were being set up for the sales, traders exchanging eager looks, preparing for the bustle of the night.
The cart rolled down the main street, and Nwyn noticed that, while Leny seemed immune to it all, he couldn't help but feel like an observer. There was something fascinating about how the city transformed with the fall of night.
They stopped near one of the squares, and Leny got off first, adjusting his hat and casting a curious glance at the movement around them. He seemed to remember what needed to be done, while Nwyn, as he got down, felt the scent of food and drink intensifying.
The bustle in the streets was thicker now, as dusk progressed and the first shadows took over the city. Leny headed for a small market beside a busy street, where several stalls were being set up for the night. The smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spices mixed in the air, almost masking the odor of sweat and dust from the streets. At one stall, a gray-haired merchant with a thick beard was arranging baskets of fruits and vegetables. He wore a dirt-stained apron and seemed in good spirits, chatting with the other merchants around him, but when he noticed Leny, his face lit up.
— Well, look who's back! I thought you'd left this city for good, — said the man, laughing as he wiped his hands on his apron. — And the farm, still standing?
— Getting by. The pigs are giving me trouble, but nothing that'll bring me down, — Leny replied, placing a sack on the table. — I brought some tools, good potatoes, and dried meat. Need a fair price.
The merchant picked up one of the tools, testing its weight in his hand before tapping the iron handle against his palm. The dry sound echoed through the square.
— Hmm. Old tool, Leny. This one's not easy to sell.
— Old, but lasts longer than any new one made carelessly out there. Anyone who knows, knows.
The man raised an eyebrow, placing the tool back and crossing his arms.
— Maybe. But there's little demand for it. I'll be honest, I won't pay much for this.
Leny sighed but kept his gaze steady.
— You're trying to give me pocket change for a full sack. The potatoes are fresh, the dried meat is top-notch. If it were anyone else, they'd have grabbed it without complaint.
The merchant shook his head, feigning disgust, but Leny knew he was thinking it over.
— I'll pay you what I can, Leny. Times are hard for everyone.
— I know that well. But I can't go back home without what I need. Here's the deal: improve that price, and I'll guarantee you exclusive dried meat for the rest of the year. Better deal than this? Only if you find buried gold on the road.
The merchant scratched his beard, thinking. He looked at the goods one more time, weighing the offer. Finally, he let out a long sigh and pointed to the sack of dried meat.
— Alright. I'll pay you a bit more, but don't come whining next time.
Leny nodded and quickly grabbed the coins, counting them on his fingers before putting them away. Nwyn, watching everything, noticed the exchange of glances between the two — a silent understanding, the kind of deal where no one leaves fully happy, but no one loses completely either.
The merchant waved, satisfied with the deal, while Leny and Nwyn left the stall. The cart moved down the alleyways of Central, diving deeper into the heart of the city, where the hum of the streets grew louder with every step. It didn't take long for Leny to stop, raising the horse's reins while looking around. He surveyed the houses, the shops, and then, with a fixed gaze, something caught his attention. A few women stood on the corner, wearing provocative clothes and gazing at
He stood still for a moment, his senses still sharp from the presence of that being. He looked around, trying to compose himself. The shop in front of him now seemed even more peculiar, with the strange smell still lingering in the air. The door behind him closed softly, and he found himself alone in the small space, surrounded by shelves of colorful jars, dried herb packages, and old objects. The atmosphere was oppressive, with a mix of sweet and earthy aromas, nothing compared to the scent of the figure that had fled the store, and the corners of the shop were covered by heavy curtains blocking the sunlight, giving the place an aura of mystery.
Nwyn wasn't sure what to do, but he knew what Leny needed. With a sigh, he made his way to the counter.
The woman behind the counter appeared older than he had expected, but her beauty was still striking. She was about 50, with slightly wavy gray hair that fell softly to her shoulders. Her eyes were a vibrant green, with an intensity in them as though they knew more than they should. Her skin was soft, marked with some fine lines that told stories of a life lived with determination, though her presence exuded undeniable youth. What caught Nwyn's attention the most, however, was her bold neckline, which highlighted her full breasts. A discreet mole on the left side of her chest seemed to mess with him in a strange way, as if it both stared at and hypnotized him at once.
As soon as Nwyn entered, the woman behind the counter lifted her eyes and gave a warm smile. It was a confident smile, the kind that made it seem as though she already knew him.
— Oh, a new customer... or maybe one who'll be coming back? — Her voice had a light, almost playful tone. — I bet you're here for something special.
Nwyn hesitated, unsure of how to respond, and ended up simply shaking his head. Before he could say anything, she was already approaching, pulling some bottles off the shelves.
— Look at this. — She held up a small bottle of golden liquid. — Great for keeping your skin healthy. You may not worry about this now, but it's never too early to start.
He frowned, uncomfortable.
— My... father... the pigs... he spoke of a parasite.
— The ones that eat the plague? — She said, leaning over the counter, making Nwyn's eyes widen. The woman tilted her head as if analyzing him. Then, she smiled again, without losing her composure.
— I see. Hard work on the farm, huh? — She put the bottle back and turned toward another shelf. — Well, in that case, I think what you're looking for is here...
She picked up a simpler bottle, inside which was a sticky liquid that clung to the edges as she moved it, with a few small transparent balls floating inside.
— This should help. But since you're here, don't you want to take advantage of the trip? I bet I can show you something interesting.
Nwyn simply extended the coins, impatient with the small talk.
She accepted the payment without pressing further, though she seemed to enjoy his haste. The price was a little higher than he had expected, but not enough to argue over. When it was done, he grabbed the bottle and turned to leave—but then noticed something in the corner of the shop.
A small round table, lit by the flickering light of candles. On it, a dark wooden box, covered with carvings he didn't recognize.
— Curious? — Her voice came softer now, as if she had been waiting for this reaction.
He didn't respond but kept staring at the box longer than he should have.
She calmly approached, took the lid, and opened it gently. Inside, there was a small grayish seed, slightly translucent.
— This seed comes from a special tree. They say it connects everything. — She ran her fingers lightly over it, as if feeling something there that he couldn't see. — Not everyone feels it... but I think you feel it, don't you?
Nwyn held his breath, unable to look away.
Then, without warning, she took the seed and brought it to her lips. She rolled it around in her mouth for a moment, murmuring something inaudible. The air in the shop seemed to grow thicker, almost heavy.
When she removed the seed, her eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and mystery.
— Now it's your turn. — She extended her hand, offering the seed to him. — Put it in your mouth.
Nwyn swallowed hard. His face warmed slightly. He couldn't help but think that, in a way, this was some form of a saliva exchange. His gaze shifted between the seed glowing under the candlelight and the woman's full lips.
He hesitated for a moment, but something inside him compelled him to continue. With an uncertain movement, he took the seed and placed it in his mouth.
The texture was strange—smooth, almost silky, but with a slight metallic touch, and he could taste the woman, for some reason wanting to experience more. He began to roll it with his tongue, mimicking what she had done. The taste was indescribable, a mix of sweetness and bitterness, something that felt both cold and hot at the same time.
Suddenly, the world around him darkened. The ceiling of the shop vanished, and in its place, a black sky opened up, swirling like a spiral. He felt as if he were being pulled into it, while golden sparks flickered around him. The sensation was one of falling, of displacement, as though time was twisting around him.
And then, the vision came.