The Safest City In Alteran: Artuck

The following day was peaceful. The thick forestry began to lighten up, and sunlight began to penetrate through the treetops. Despite the curse, the group seemed awfully chipper once the sunlight appeared.

"Hey Meila, h-how close are we?"

Flim's shivering was getting worse, but he still wore a smile on his face. Meila, who was leading the group, turned around as she continued walking.

"Well, since we can see the sunlight now, it's not far. In fact," she turned back around and looked out in the distance, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked.

"Oh! I can see the walls of the city from here! We'll be there in no time!"

Artuck looked in the direction Meila was looking, and sure enough, there were the walls, standing large and tall amidst the forestry that surrounded the city.

"Well then, let's get moving. We've got an old wizard to see."

Mitrax spoke as he walked up to Meila, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Meila nodded to Mitrax, before moving again.

A little while later, the group began to approach the city's gates. The walls were taller than how they appeared all that distance ago. Now, the solid stone walls seemed to reach up as far as Artuck could see. The windmills that sat just outside of the city seemed to be dwarfed by the sheer magnitude of the walls, despite the windmill's great height.

Two guards stood at attention at the gates, the portcullis closed. The guards looked quite similar to meila, their pale, elven skin gleaming in the sunlight, the forest green armor they wore complimenting their light complexion. Each guard wore a stern expression, and both carefully watched Artuck and the group approached. Behind the city walls, it seemed as though nothing was happening, as the air was filled with silence, the sound of nothingness ringing in Artuck's ears.

"Why, hello there!" 

The guard on the right shouted at the group in the elven tongue. Its dialect seemed somewhat different to Artuck, but then again, he had learned elven to fit in with everyday people, as his own appearance resembled an elf.

"Hello there! We're arriving from just East of Scolt!"

Meila approached the guards as she spoke, to which they crossed their blades in front of the closed portcullis. Their blades were slightly curved, their metal a soft, golden color, and an engravement ran up the blade. As Artuck attempted to read the runes inscribed on the swords, he realized very quickly that it was in a language he did not understand.

"We know who you are, Meila. But who are these strangers you have brought to our doorstep? Not some… husbands of yours, are they?" 

The guard on the left carefully eyed each individual member of the group, ending on Artuck.

"What? How dare you? And no. These are my new friends. They're on a journey, and I offered them a place here. And on top of that, they are friends of Himrol's. Three of the four of them are inflicted with a curse only Himrol can remove, anyway. Who are we to say no? And besides, that one," Meila pointed to Artuck, "knows Himrol on a personal level."

The guard looked at Artuck again, and scoffed.

"Alright, wise guy. If you know Himrol so well, how does he like his tea?"

The guard stepped past Meila and towards Artuck, his weapon now angled at Artuck's throat. Artuck could feel the guard's weapon resting on his throat as he began to think. Artuck closed his eyes for a moment and thought of all of his interactions with Himrol, before the answer suddenly dawned on him.

"Himrol likes his tea hot. Really hot. And he likes to add a scoopful of ground clovers. He says it brings him 'luck in his studies.' He occasionally will add exactly six scoops of sugar, but he really only does that when he's feeling sad. And he thinks it's an abomination to eat anything with it."

The guard lowered his sword, and sheathed it.

"That was a test. I don't actually know the answer, but clearly you do. He's a strange one, isn't he?"

The guard chuckled at his own remark, but Artuck remained expressionless.

"Yes, but he's very wise. And you'd do well to accept his teachings. You might be able to learn a thing or two."

The guard, annoyed at Artuck's answer, nodded, before motioning a hand signal to the upper parts of the wall. The other guard nodded, and sheathed his sword. He bowed, as if ushering the group in, and spoke in a kind and courteous manner.

"Welcome to Willspore Village, a place of solitude and rest. I apologize for the inconvenience. We haven't received visitors since Himrol arrived some two hundred years ago. Naturally, we'd be suspicious of any newcomers."

The portcullis began to rise as the guard spoke, the clangs of the metallic gate almost drowning out the guard's voice.

The group began to walk into the city, and as Artuck passed the guard that had tested him, the guard muttered something only he could hear.

"Enjoy your visit, Artuck, son of Haldore."

Artuck, now worried, carefully watched the guard as he stepped into Willspore, and the guard gave Artuck an arrogant grin with a wink as the gate closed.

Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling from the guard, Artuck turned towards the city and took in the sight he was beholding.

Stories of tall, wooden buildings, as far as the eye could see stretched out into the sky. It made Artuck feel small as he looked around. Extravagant carvings rested around the small windows each building had, most depicting the moon's light cycle, and depictions of a man holding the Sun were painted or carved on some buildings. Every building was a deep green color, the dark woods complimenting the beautiful greens of the walls. The bases of the buildings were made of stone, their foundations strong.

As Artuck watched the people, they too seemed small compared to the buildings. But everywhere Artuck looked, people were using magic. Using magic to reach the higher levels of buildings, using magic to perform on the cobblestone streets crowded with folks. Magic was being used everywhere.

It was also significantly noisier now than it was before they stepped foot in the city. Children playing with one another, people calling out, trying to sell goods, or people simply just talking.

"I'll take you all to Himrol's place. Enjoy the sights as we go!"

Meila began walking away, Mitrax hot on her heels, simply taking in the sights. Cruu and Flim simply huddled together as they walked.

"This city's pretty big if you ask me. Apparently, when Himrol arrived here, this city was nothing more than a few small huts. Over the past two hundred some years, he's helped build the city what it is today! He taught us how to harness the magic flowing in our blood, and now there's a school on the south side of the city that teaches magic beyond the daily uses."

"Can we stop by later for a lecture?"

Mitrax's eyes lit up at the possibility of learning new magic. Meila simply nodded.

"Well, yeah. I thought you'd go regardless."

Mitrax reached into his bag and pulled out his magical tome, its covers bound in flesh, and the words on the cover inscribed in a blood-like color. Meila shrieked when she saw the tome, and looked away.

"Holy Fihlrur that thing's terrifying. Please, put the book away."

Meila whimpered as she said the last sentence. Mitrax shrugged, and put the book away.

"Moving on, as the guards at the gate said, this city hasn't had visitors in many years, and we hope that will keep people away. There's a magical shield cast over the city, and it protects everyone in the city from Haldore's presence. Himrol himself cast the spell that started it, and every year, he restores the spell to protect us for another year."

Flim perked up as he asked his question, Cruu still huddling up against him for some warmth.

"Do the people revere Himrol as some kind of god or something?"

Meila chuckled as she walked.

"No, no. They see him as the founder. Nothing more. Per his request."

Flim nodded.

"Ahh, okay, I understand now. Himrol started the city, and the people respect him for what he's done then."

Meila gave Flim a small applaud.

"Well done. That's exactly it."

Meila continued walking, and Artuck watched the people. He saw a child purchase a meal and share it with his friend, the children smiling and laughing the whole time. He saw a mother walk out of a building holding some tunics, the extravagant purples and yellows draped over her arms. He saw a father taking his children and resting them upon his shoulders, the children giggling all the while. He saw a performer sing their heart out, and as people passed, they applauded the performance, and offered some coins.

"Well, here we are, everyone. Himrol's modest home."

Meila turned around to face the group as she extended her arms in a presenting way.

The house was quite modest, Artuck noticed. It was only a single story tall, and appeared to only have three or four rooms inside. The outside was still the green colors of the rest of the city, but the house had no wooden carvings upon it. Outside sat a small garden, a single tree resting in the center. Bushes with small yellow flowers went around the outside, and a small sign hung from the awning above the door, announcing that the home belonged to Himrol.

Artuck took a deep breath, and looked to the others. Mitrax looked to Artuck with an expression of hope. Flim and Cruu both looked at Artuck wearily, and Meila simply smiled at him.

Artuck exhaled, a sigh from deep within him escaping. He suddenly felt very nervous, as if this was his first time meeting him, but Artuck pushed those feelings aside as he walked up to the round door, the rest of the group standing just a few feet away..

Artuck took another deep breath and he went to knock. Before his hand could touch the door, however, the door swung open and an older human male stood there.

"Artuck! My good friend!"

The man took Artuck into a tight hug, and held him for a long moment, long enough for Cruu to cough and for Flim to sneeze. Eventually, Himrol let go and held Artuck by his shoulders.

"I know I've gotten older. But it's still the same Himrol, my friend. The only difference is I've gotten wiser. Come on in, and have your friends come in, too. Oh, and Meila as well."

Himrol turned round and walked into the house, leaving the door open. Artuck followed him inside, and Himrol extended a hand towards his table, asking them all to sit. They all sat down at the table and looked around.

A smaller house from the inside, there were bookshelves lining every wall, and they were all stuffed full of books and potion trays. On the wooden floor rested a small, simple rug, its colors none too fantastic, but matched the simplistic nature of the home. The table they were seated at appeared to be made of the same wood the buildings were made of, and Himrol had draped a forest green tablecloth over the table.

From the table, there was a hallway that led off to Artuck's left, and Himrol appeared from there a moment later, carrying a tray of three potions.

As he arrived at the table, he sat the potions down in front of Artuck, Flim, and Cruu.

"Drink up! This concoction will bring your body temperature to normal, and will eradicate the curse that holds you."

Flim took his potion and chugged it, the color returning to his face mere seconds later. Cruu, having watched Flim drink it, also chugged his, and he opened and closed his fists excitedly. Artuck consumed his own potion, feeling the warm potion go all the way down, before it spread to the rest of his body.

"Thank you!"

Flim stood up and shook Himrol's hand excitedly, who chuckled as Flim enthusiastically thanked him over and over again.

"It's nothing," Himrol dismissed.

"But do sit down. I know who you all are, and I saw your ailments when you stood at my door. But there is something you should know."

Flim cautiously let go of Himrol and gently sat back down. Himrol walked up to the table next to Artuck, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Himrol then spoke, his words sharper than a dagger, and colder than the freezing curse Artuck was just cured of.

"You've killed us all."