“I have never seen such childish rage — they almost tore the place apart! Now I have to rebuild so much furniture, fix the locks and the broken doors, and somehow make everyone feel safe enough to come here again. Maybe I should just give up the Inn, but that would be what they want me to do.
I suppose we really should count ourselves lucky. In Kassina’s haste, they both left the inn without shedding any blood. The gods only know if we’ll be so lucky next time they pay us a visit.
How long will it take before a hero will rise to face them? Somebody has to save us all.”
The moon shone brightly in the inky, star-speckled sky, as if a god had opened a single eye to gaze upon the troubled realm of Marithia. The lands were fast asleep, with only the howls of wolves and gentle hoots of owls breaking the uncomfortable silence. A lone wolf made its way through the shadows of the trees, heading towards the mystical lights of the great trade city. It stopped for a moment to sniff the humid air, breathing out faint curls of mist in the moonlight, and allowed the smells of the night to guide its way forward. The wolf was suddenly startled by wildly swaying trees. It stared into the sky and cocked its head in recognition. Lowering its ears, it bolted away from the city, disappearing into the cover of darkness.
One by one, the dragons landed in the forest, finding gaps between the trees to fit their great bodies into. Having flown through gathering clouds, they shook the now muddied water off their hides. Vartan also shook off the blown dust, and turned his gaze to the magnificent sight of She’Ma’Ryn. His sharp intake of breath gave away his surprise.
The city was built into the side of a tall, rocky mountain, as if a giant section of it had been cut out solely for the purpose. A gigantic magical dome protected the city, and through it a thin beam of white light shot up past the stars and into the unknown.
“This is amazing!” proclaimed Vartan. “So now I have finally seen the wondrous She’Ma’Ryn my father always talked about. If I were him, I’d surely like to come more often than once a year!”.
Karven laughed. “Of course you would, Vartan. But the guardians of the city only allow Marithians one visit a year, unless they have been granted special rights by the council of traders."
Two dragons approached, pushing a heavy cart containing two wooden chests laden with treasures. The closest dragon bowed and breathed, "The trade treasure is all accounted for, as you ordered, sire."
The sound of twigs breaking and leaves rustling filled the air as Karven pushed the cart towards Vartan with his nose. Vartan nodded to the dragons and dragged the heavy cart in the direction of She’Ma’Ryn as he continued the conversation. He spoke through puffed breaths. “I see. Well then, how do you suppose we are going to get inside the city right now? It’s not the right time of year, is it?"
Karven cocked his head as he spoke. “I happen to be the very first trade councillor, and I can grant you permission to enter at any moment of my choosing. How do you think the ancients built the city? Do you think they carved it into the mountain all by themselves? You will see that dragons are capable of building more than just weapons.”
Vartan's reply was soft. “I see, Karven,” he smiled. “It appears that there is far more to dragons than I first realised."
They approached the city on a well-beaten path that led to two gargantuan marble statues of dragons. As the statues came into sight, the travellers could see the heat escaping the nostrils of the statues and their shiny blue eyes moving to follow their position. Well, that makes sense, thought Vartan in hindsight.
In between the statues stood two heavily armed guardians, protected by the magic dome. Vartan had never seen anyone like them before. They were twice the size of the biggest man he had ever laid eyes upon. Their armour was a strange shade of blue that lightened and darkened to blend in with their surroundings. The guardians drew their weapons as Vartan and the dragons neared the gate. At first their swords appeared quite small and ill-equipped in their oversized hands, but then they gripped the handles of their swords tightly and the weapons’ enchantments activated; their blades slid out with a strange metallic ring, doubling their length.
One of the guardians raised a hand at them and boomed, “State your business here and do not attempt to enter without permission. Consider yourselves warned-if you value your lives, heed our warning and go back the way you came."
Karven adjusted his scales to reveal his enormous body towering beside them, and lowered his head to meet the guardians on their level. “Vartan travels with me and has my permission to enter the city. His purpose is only to trade. I understand your caution, but there is no need for concern here. Please step aside and let him pass.”
The guardians squeezed their sword handles and retracted their weapons back to their original states. They both bowed towards Karven and resumed their positions.
“Great Councillor, please accept our apologies," said one of the guardians. "Vartan's entry is granted as an exception with your permission. There are only traders from other worlds within the city at this time, as it is not yet the season for your world’s trade festival. We hope their offerings will suffice. Will you grace the city with your presence today, Councillor Karven? Should we alert the Council?”
“No need to alert anyone,” responded Karven. “I will not be entering tonight, and will await Vartan’s return here.”
“As you wish, Councillor. We will watch over him closely to ensure his safety. No harm will befall him within our city. Please, Vartan, walk through the gate — you are safe here,” said the other guardian. He beckoned for Vartan to come inside.
The guardians both pushed on a device hidden from view in the back of the statues. The magical wall hummed as a pulsing purple slit appeared in the dome, which then widened and created an open gateway to allow him through.
The voice of Karven filled Vartan's mind. Vartan, remember that you carry with you a great deal of dragon and elven treasure. Do not waste it. How you trade is entirely up to you, but make sure it is a worthwhile trade and try not to spend too much time.
Vartan nodded in agreement, and walked through the opening to the city. As he stepped through, the sheer scale of She’Ma’Ryn came into view. Until this moment, Vartan had thought that Greenhaven was the largest city in Marithia. She’Ma’Ryn contained a spiderweb of streets crowded with both small and large buildings. Smoke bellowed from the many forges and occupied buildings. In all directions, guardians patrolled the streets. There were literally thousands of them, all of them heavily armed.
No wonder nobody ever tries to enter the city. Do these guardians ever sleep? thought Vartan.
A gate guardian turned his head towards Vartan and cocked it with curiosity. No, Vartan, we do not sleep. As we are creatures of magic, we do not require what you would call sleep. And we can hear you when you speak through your mind, just as we can hear the thoughts of anyone else who visits our city.
“I imagine that would come in handy to eliminate theft and crime?” asked Vartan.
“This is true, and we enjoy a mostly crimeless city as a result. We have zero tolerance for crimes, and theft is punishable by death.”
Vartan's face paled. “Stealing is punishable by death? That’s a bit over the top, don’t you think? What do you do to murderers?”
“The law is the law, and we serve the law, not question it. For our city to exist as a safe destination for many worlds, we need to adopt the highest levels of control. All crimes against the safety of the city or the people within the city are punishable by death. This is something that we make abundantly clear to anyone arriving here. Speaking of which, you may want to take a look at the interstellar portal. Be sure that it is only your sight that nears the building as it is off limits.”
In the centre of the city was a gigantic structure surrounded by yet more guardians. The building looked unlike anything he had ever seen. Its great doors were heavily guarded, but the building itself appeared almost like a living creature. Resembling a flower, its many metallic layers opened and closed like massive petals. It connected to the central beam of light which shot up and out of the city. Vartan stopped in his tracks and stared at it with his mouth gaped wide. "I have never seen anything like that before."
One of the guardians raised a finger to the building as the other turned to return to the gate. “Vartan, that is the only area you are not permitted to enter. There will likely be plenty of things here that you have never seen before. You are our guest, and as such, you are allowed to trade at any building with a raised flag. The raised flag signals to you that it is occupied with traders who are ready to conduct business. Is there anything in particular you are seeking?”
Vartan's imagination ran wild with ideas, but he remembered Karven's words. “Unfortunately, my time here is short. Where can I buy weapons and armour?"
The guardian pointed out one of the larger buildings to the north. “That is the District of Bloodshed; you will find what you seek there. You are lucky to visit the city at this time, as the traders are just preparing new stock for the upcoming trade festival. You will get first choice of their wares.”
Vartan nodded his thanks and boldly headed down the indicated path. On the way, he couldn’t help but take notice of other traders in the surrounding districts. There were beings of all kinds within the buildings. Some were human and elven, but most were clearly not from the world of Marithia. One district was alive with colour and activity. Strange music emanated from a building within, its beat making his heart pump faster with excitement.
It wouldn't hurt to take a little look, would it? he thought.
Wheeling his cart, he approached the district and took note of the flying flag. It appeared to be made of silk and lace, but it flew unnaturally slowly, as if it were in slow motion. Suddenly a tall voluptuous woman approached him. Her skin was a dark shade of grey; her hair was eerily translucent, and her eyes glowed blue. She extended a gloved hand to meet his and walked him toward the district's stores as she spoke with him. Her voice was almost a whisper. "We don't usually have outsiders visit the District of Pleasure before the festival. Welcome, I am Madame Flarantine, and this entire district belongs to me."
He felt a tingling as he passed the district's flag. She stopped near the smallest of buildings, with pink flames on its torches. The building appeared inviting and Flarantine leaned back on the door, extending her unnaturally long right leg from within her silky black dress. The straps of her red heeled shoe wrapped around her shapely calf and ended just below her knee.
Vartan smiled and bowed his head. "Thank you for the warm welcome, Madame, but I am short on time and am just passing through to the District of Bloodshed."
Flarantine pouted her blue lips and husked, "Well, this is disappointing. I was hoping for a customer tonight. You do realise that this area is enchanted, don't you? Time slows down here. A day in the district of pleasure will only cost you a quarter of your time. After all, we can never have enough time for pleasure, can we?"
Vartan raised an eyebrow in disbelief and turned to look back. The guardians in his view were moving at a slug's pace. "You weren't joking, were you?"
"I don't joke,” she said a grin. “It's not in my nature. Are you sure that you don't want to spend some time with me, inside?" She peered over his shoulder and her eyes twinkled. "You know… Time spent with me would not even cost you even one of your gems. In fact, it would buy you time with me in the future. It is said that my skills are the best in our corner of the galaxy."
Vartan blushed and began to walk further down the street.
Her voice called out from behind him, "Your heart belongs to a lucky woman. True love is a rarity in these parts. What is her name?"
Vartan turned to her and his face paled as he watched Flarantine shake her head of hair and transform into a perfect image of Helenia.
Approaching her cautiously, he blurted, "You can't be serious!"
"I doubt that is her name," laughed Flarantine heartily.
Staring at her from head to toe, his eyes widened. "How in Marithia did you manage to look exactly like Helenia?"
She cleared her throat and Helenia's voice spoke back to him. "Well, darling, I am not the best in the galaxy without good reasons. I have an ability to look inside your mind and take the form of anyone in your memory. Whatever tempts you." Approaching slowly, she extended her arm to lay her hand on his shoulder and slipped her other arm around him from behind. "Don't worry; I would never betray your trust. What happens here… stays here."
Vartan tensed as she lay her lips on his neck and whispered in his ear. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like with her? You could find out tonight, and nobody would ever know."
Vartan shook her off gently and turned to her. "It matters not what anyone would know, Flarantine. I would know. Thank you for your kind invitation, but I would never risk losing her, especially not for pleasure. She is far too precious to me."
Extending her arms out wide and bowing, she morphed back into her true form and whispered, "Very well, if you really are not interested. Enjoy your stay. But know this, I will always be here for you if you ever change your mind. You really don't know what you are missing."
Vartan nodded and continued on his way. He passed by various creatures and races from other worlds. Many buildings were focused on physical pleasures, with diverse beings standing in various states of undress. Their innumerable forms and colours were fascinating, but he simply smiled at their plentiful offers. The building playing music had caught his attention for a few moments. He had never seen such interesting instruments or heard such sounds in Marithia. One stringed instrument appeared to be powered by something which was connected inside the building.
You, come here. I have things that you will need, said a voice in his mind, distracting him from the musicians.
He stopped wheeling the heavy cart and looked around at the many traders in sight, desperately attempting to work out who had spoken to him.
Look for the small blue flag with a red circle, said the voice.
Vartan squinted as he scanned the kaleidoscopic view before discovering the described flag. He cautiously approached the trader and fully took in his appearance. For a moment, Vartan almost mistook him for a human being. On closer inspection he could see the being’s brilliant white skin and small slit of a mouth that marked him as anything but. The trader’s eyes were closed, but Vartan could still feel his direct stare, and it made his nerves uneasy.
I am pleased to meet you. You understand my thoughts as your mind interprets them into words of your own. I can read your mind, so please do not bother to haggle with me. I have some items that will aid you in your journey. Some of these artefacts are for you, and some are for those closest to you.
“Artefacts?” began Vartan. “Can you tell me-”
So you wish to know what I have for you, and you are worried about giving up your treasures in exchange for weapons of bloodshed. I told you I could read your mind — did you not believe me? Worry not, Vartan, as I am not trying to rob you of your treasures. After all, why would anyone want to risk their lives here? My assistant will only take what the artefacts are worth. They are all from different worlds and that is all I should tell you. It is what you might call ‘fate’ that you are here to receive them.
“What is your name? And what do you mean fate?”
My name does not matter. One of the artefacts will aid you in an important decision of life and death, another will save a life, and the last will reveal the truth behind lies. Even my telling you their purpose can affect your path. You can continue without them, but that decision will change your fate for eternity.
Vartan hesitated for a moment before answering. “You are asking a lot for me to trust you with so little information. I will accept your offer to take the artefacts, but how do I use them?”
Do not concern yourself with activating these objects, as once they find their true owners, they will bind to them and will activate themselves. Artefacts are not chosen; they choose you.
The trader lifted an arm toward the artefacts and made a noise like a bumblebee.
One by one, the artefacts gently lifted off the stall and hovered over to them before lazily descending into a bag by the trader’s feet. A hovering assistant grabbed hold of the bag and glided over to Vartan. He looked similar to the trader, but was smaller in size and visibly much younger. Vartan smiled warmly as he took the bag with both hands and placed it in the back of the cart. When he turned back, the assistant’s eyes opened. They swirled purple and blue and Vartan felt unable to look away from them.
Vartan couldn’t help but stare longer into his eyes, and as he looked deeper he began to see a vision of himself. He became entranced by the vision, as he did not recognise it from his memories. In this vision, he was completely surrounded by a fiercely raging battle, and many fires burned nearby. Bodies met with weapons, and blood soaked the ground around him, staining it a deep crimson. Suddenly, he saw himself flung backwards by a bolt of lightning. It was the dark sorceress Kassina, closing in on his fallen body with sword in her raised hands and a look of determination on her face.
Enough! boomed the trader’s thought, screeching through the minds of them both, and the assistant snapped his eyes shut again.
Our powers are not to be toyed with, my child, the trader scolded his assistant before addressing Vartan again. My apologies to you for my child’s actions, Vartan. It was not the right time for you to have seen that vision, if you should have seen it at all.
The trader’s son opened the laden chest and retrieved only a few glittering treasures in return. He turned to the side as he glided away and quietly sent a thought into Vartan’s mind.
Remember that the journey you take can be changed at any given moment. Changes that divert from your path will work like ripples in the continuum of time, creating a new parallel reality, said the assistant.
Vartan nodded at them both and continued on, somewhat puzzled. He left the District of Pleasure and spotted the District of Bloodshed straight ahead of him. He felt a tickling sensation as the district’s enchantment wore off and time returned to its usual momentum. He attempted to clear the vision from his mind and dissect what the trader’s son had said to him.
Kassina, he thought, trying to make sense of it all. Ripples in the continuum of time?
Vartan finally arrived at the great doors to the District of Bloodshed. Disturbingly, its flags were marked by magical blood that fell in heavy clots to splatter on the ground before instantly disappearing.
Interesting method of signage, thought Vartan as he moved to enter the building.
The building’s guardians moved abruptly aside to allow him entry. "Good luck with your trades, sir."
The building was filled with sounds of weapons being forged, and various languages were being spoken that Vartan could not understand. Every now and again, he could hear his own tongue being spoken. Strange that some beings from other worlds speak my language, he thought. Now, who shall I bargain with today?
He moved quietly through the stalls, observing the strange weapons being manufactured and beings inhabiting the building. There was an abundance of merchants and traders who all watched the large cart behind him closely, like predators stalking prey. Vartan couldn’t help but halt and take notice of one particular trader, who was not at all interested in his heavy cart. The trader looked quite relaxed and at ease with his surroundings. He sat quietly and smoked a large pipe, blowing puffs of smoke in shapes of beasts unheard of in Marithia. He wore a hat made of beautifully painted and varicoloured feathers that encircled his head, and wore what looked like dried warrior’s paint on his face. As Vartan looked closer, he could see the dark scars of many battles on the trader’s muscular arms. This appeared to be no ordinary trader, but a battle-hardened warlord.
This is exactly the kind of warrior I need, thought Vartan.
Behind the trader, Vartan saw row upon row of intricate weaponry and armour of various sizes. A large red bird stood far back, perched on one of the rows of heavy axes, watching him closely out of the corner of its right eye. The man placed his pipe down and made a strange noise that sounded like drums, and the bird screamed out, took flight and burst into flames. Vartan reeled back instinctively and crouched down, ready to avoid its hot, fiery path. The flames suddenly disappeared as it landed on the trader’s forearm, its heavy talons digging into the leather gauntlet specially created to hold its weight. The phoenix cocked her head and looked directly at Vartan with an inquisitive look. It squawked into the ear of the trader, who listened intently to the bird’s message. The trader burst into heavy laughter and turned to Vartan, who was still crouched down on the ground. The man pointed beside him to a large chair covered in various furs.
“She wondered why you would prefer to sit on dirt, when we have a chair prepared for guests. The trade chair is a lot more comfortable than dirt, we can assure you.”
Vartan smiled and puffed, "That does indeed did look very comfortable." He made his way to the chair, and overcame his embarrassment to speak. “I’m sorry about all this, but I have never had the pleasure of visiting She’Ma’Ryn before and this is all quite new to me. My name is Vartan, and I come looking for your finest weapons and armour. We fight to save all living creatures on our planet that have not already fallen into the grip of darkness, and we need all the help we can get. Can you help us?”
“She’Ma’Ryn? Is that what your people call this place? The spirits told me long ago that you would seek my guidance, although I will be honest and say that I did not expect someone so young to be here today. I suppose that one’s years spent living do not reflect a measure of our souls or strength of character. You and I are actually not so different from each other, Vartan-we were just born in different realms. I am Makya, which means ‘eagle hunter’ in my world. Allow me to show you a short glimpse of our history.” He inhaled a deep breath of grey smoke and blew out a whisky-coloured planet that was circled by three moons. “Unlike your world, which still flourishes with riches from the earth, ours was bled dry over many thousands of years of carelessness. Much like your world, we are no strangers to war and suffering. Weapons became incredibly intricate and complicated over centuries of battle, and ultimately evolved to be more destructive." With another breath, he blew out a hazy warrior who ran in fright with his weapons held high in the air. A light flew fast and hard to plummet deep into the warrior’s flesh. He clawed at his skin to get it out. Suddenly, his entire body violently exploded into thin air.
“How did that… is that even possible?” Vartan asked.
Makya nodded to the phoenix, which flew among the rows of weapons until it grasped one of them with its claws and flew it over to where Vartan sat. Vartan caught the weapon as it was dropped down to him, and was surprised by its weight. It was almost the size of his arm, but was as light as a feather.
“Bring it up to your shoulder, and take aim without hesitation at the object I throw in the air. To use this weapon, you simply need to turn the runes at your fingertips to activate it. Beware of its power when you fire it, as there are enough charges within to dispatch ten of your enemies if you are able to hit them accurately."
Makya reached behind him to a pile of what appeared to be lifeless birds. He shook one and threw it high in the air, where it glowed for a second before suddenly taking flight. Vartan followed the bird as best as he could with the strange weapon, sweat forming on his brow in concentration. He turned the runes to send a bolt of light screaming into the bird, and his chair fell backwards onto the ground with a loud thud from the recoil. The bird squawked, fell to the ground, and struggled to free itself from the burning hot object within its breast. Suddenly it exploded, the violent force sending wind roaring past their faces.
“By the gods!” exclaimed Vartan. “This weapon is simply extraordinary!”
Makya helped him return the chair back to its place and eased him back down onto it. “Luckily, that was not a real bird. Just imagine what it could do to your enemies,” said Makya with a knowing smile.
Vartan rubbed his shoulder, still aching from the force of the weapon’s recoil. His voice strained as he asked, “I am not used to such strange weapons. Are all of your weapons this powerful?”
“I can supply you with everything your warriors will need, but it will naturally come at a price. I understand your fight better than you know, as I once was in a similar position to your own. I had the responsibility to save our people. However, for now I, too, have someone to answer to for making these weapons. What do you have in those chests to trade? Fur? Silver? Trinkets?”
As Vartan opened the lids of the heavy treasure chests, the sparkles of the treasures within lit up the roof of the building, and also lit up the trader’s eyes. Makya stood and emptied his pipe, sighing out a final smokey breath as he spoke. “Well, young hero, I believe we’ve ourselves a fair deal, and I’ll be sure to leave you plenty to help your cause. Come now; we have much more in the way of weapons and armour for you to explore."