Gnome Land

There wasn't time for a proper farewell, and before Charles and Harold could really comprehend it, they were already quite a distance from Rome. The others remained in Rome, where, with maximum security measures, the raider captain's armor was secured. Now the news would spread like wildfire, and soon all the raiders would come for the armor. — Mur was explaining before the friends left.

Charles knew it would be so, but he hoped that his friends would be able to hold their positions with the Roman guard. In any case, the two scientists were now forced to move forward — they couldn't risk stopping. Of course, they had put on different clothes and accessories to avoid being recognized, just in case any raiders crossed their path along the way.

Speaking of the fone, Bridgton thought he understood Berota's hint. The next destination should be at Charles's sister's place — in Croatia. He hadn't seen his wonderful sister in a long time, so he was looking forward to seizing this opportunity.

While one was thinking about family and the fone, the other — Harold — was thinking about disguises. Rimny felt satisfaction that now both friends had been completely wiped off the raider radar, as they not only diverted attention with the "defeat" of the raider captain but also had fully disguised themselves.

Shall we talk about their disguises? Harold had donned an unusually refined suit for him and a large, camouflaging cowboy hat. Meanwhile, his best friend Charles was dressed in large, loose gentlemen's rags, simple slippers, and he also had an English wig, along with fake mustaches attached above his mouth. No one would ever recognize them.

Two days had passed, and the scholars hadn't covered a great distance. Perhaps it was because all the roads were covered with muddy slurry and several puddles the size of ponds. It seemed the storm hadn't only wreaked havoc in Rome but also throughout the entire Apennine Peninsula.

Then, out of nowhere, rather from the treetops, two or three raiders jumped out and blocked the way in front of both friends. Charles and also Harold had been expecting such an encounter — did the raiders really think they would let them go THAT easily?

Among these raiders was one who stood out. While all the raider armor was black, this raider wore white armor. He stood in a position and pose that indicated authority.

"Excuse me, dear young gentlemen, have you by any chance seen an old man and a sock around here?" the white raider spoke. "They somewhat resemble you." He added further, "We will pay you."

"No, unfortunately not; you are the only ones we have seen today." Charles explained in Italian (he had learned that one sentence from Harold).

"Well, nothing. We will continue searching; have a nice day, gentlemen!" the speaking raider announced and, together with his two raider friends, returned to the treetops.

Interesting, raiders usually don't talk much or at all. — Harold pondered. "Perhaps it was some special raider linguist."

The two scientists merely shrugged their shoulders and moved on. They didn't have to walk far when the rooftops and towers of houses began to appear behind the treetops. Here the forest abruptly ended — ahead stretched undulating hills with yellow and purple fields and scattered cottages. In the backround loomed a large mountain, on top of which perched a beautiful castle.

"Hm, interesting what kind of place this is?" Charles mused, shaking his head in confusion.

"Well then, we were heading northeast, so… yes, just like in the drawings! - Herold exclaimed.

What?

We are in San Marino! - Herold joyfully cheered.

The two friends then simultaneously decided to look at the mighty fortress at the top of the hill.

That is San Marino, the capital of San Marino. - Herold explained to his uninformed friend.

Charles just nodded approvingly, and they continued on their course. They still had plenty of food and water because the Prince of Andorra had generously gifted them. Now the friends' hopes were placed on the fastest way to reach Croatia.

The scholars had now climbed the mountain and began to see the first houses. It was their first time in civilization since the Roman department. The houses here looked strange - they were made entirely of stone, and the windows were especially pointed.

Please remind me, what language do the locals speak? - Bridgton turned to his friend.

Sammarinese! Just kidding, they speak Italian. - Herold joked at Charles, and they walked on laughing.

Both friends could say that they had completely lost all sense of time. They didn't know what day it was. But judging by the crowd of people, it wasn't Sunday. In any case, the friends continued onward, despite there being many people.

As they walked, they found out that there were neither trains, nor dirigibles, nor ships, and there weren't even horse-drawn carriages.

All clear. - Herold thought nervously.

Here they turned into a different neighborhood. The trees were older, the houses taller, and there were fewer people. Here they had better luck with transport. In the center of a cobblestone square was an unimaginable apparatus. It was a line of carriages that were tied to one another!

Right in front was a mighty and tall stallion, then a passenger cabin, followed by another horse, this time smaller, and then another passenger cabin. There were about 20 of these carriages, and thus around 20 horses. It seemed that about four or five people could fit in each cabin, meaning that this large apparatus could accommodate… around 100 people!

This super carriage can transport an entire village! - Herold gasped in admiration.

Charles merely mumbled in agreement; he was more captivated by a very dapper gentleman who stood next to the large carriage. He was wearing a silver tailcoat with a white collar and cuffs, and his pants were a shade of crimson gray, while his shoes were olive brown with fine detailing. The gentleman was casually examining his collection of cards, which he was twirling in his delicate hands. Herold, realizing what Bridgton was staring at, whistled towards the gentleman.

Hey, good day, excuse me, do you own this ca… thing? Are you planning to ride it soon? And could we join you? - Herold asked in Italian.

Ahem, the carriage does not belong to me. But yes, I am driving it, and since you are the first to ask me this question today in this place, I will let you choose where this week's route will go! - the gentleman replied kindly and slowly, as though considering each word.

And how far can you take us? - Herold asked curiously.

Well, within Italy's borders, of course! - the gentleman said playfully.

Alright, then how about… Venice? - Herold asked tentatively, visualizing the map of Italy in his mind.

Excellent! Yes, many will also want to zip off to Venice, and I will earn a lot of money! Uh… you didn't hear that last sentence. In any case, it will be 10 Sammarinese euros from each of you! - the gentleman extended his slender hand, as if expecting payment."

"We unfortunately don't have local currency; will you accept Swiss francs?" - Herald took the payment out of his pocket.

"Yes, that's fine; I can exchange it later, just get inside!" - the gentleman, having gathered the money, commanded.

***

People gathered astonishingly quickly. They definitely were not locals, at least that's how it seemed to Cārls. People kept coming and coming, and soon all the available seats were taken. The coach set off in the early afternoon.

The sound of horse hooves clattered, the cart rattled, and people laughed. One could think that this road through half of Italy would be interesting in this marvelous coach. But, honestly, the long journey was quite uninteresting and monotonous. And before the friends even realized what they were heading towards, the walls of Venice appeared on the horizon.

Bridgton pondered for a long time how incredible it was, how fast the coach was going. It moved almost like a train. Apparently, the engineers of the coach had managed to create a way to overcome friction in the most efficient, simplest, and cheapest manner.

The coach dropped everyone off at the central square of Venice, where the waters of the lagoon surged around. In the urban landscape, one could spot Italian houses, lavish cathedrals, lion statues, and many small bridges that connected the entire city together, allowing movement across numerous canals.

Both friends, having disembarked from the coach, tried to get a sense of time and place. Once they got that feeling, they continued on a small tour of the city, as time still allowed it.

"I think we will have to cross the Adriatic Sea; that will be the fastest option," Charles pondered aloud.

"Probably. It's a shame there's no Mūrs or Pampelpaps here; they would be a great help... I wonder how they're doing right now?" - Herald glanced at his friend, and their eyes met.

"Don't even mention it; they are definitely doing well, the armor is still in place... At least, I hope so."

After this gloomy note, the friends decided to turn their attention to everything that wasn't gloomy in the near and distant surroundings. Since summer had set in, the sun rose above the entire area from unprecedented heights, and the air practically vibrated with a cacophony of beautiful bird songs.

The scientists, at least the one who was able to, asked locals about the location of the port. After dozens of respondents later, it turned out that there was no large harbor in the city, just dozens of small fishing ports.

"In my opinion, we will have to cross the sea with one of these boats," Bridgton suggested as the friends walked along one of the fishing ports.

"Are you crazy? If the wind speed exceeds 20 meters per second, then we're done for; we'll sink immediately!" - Herald didn't sound very enthusiastic.

"Herald, that's the only and fastest way for us to get to the other side, and you definitely know that the sooner, the better."

"Eh, well, fine." - Herald conceded slightly.

In the end, they spent about two hours searching for a fisherman to take them that far. It proved to be quite difficult, as most fishermen weren't even around—they had already gone out to sea!

Eventually, they found someone. It was a completely weathered old man. Charles wasn't even short, but the old man didn't even reach his shoulders. While Bridgton was measuring himself, Herald at least did something more useful—he inquired with the sailor about the departure time, because the old man wasn't ready to leave just yet.

"Yep, I usually go on long and distant sea trips; this will be a piece of cake for me," - the old fisherman slowly replied when Herald asked him about crossing the sea to Croatia.

The old man showed the sages his pale blue boat, and they all agreed on a time for their meeting the next day. The condition of the boat sparked unrest among the friends—it could be said that it looked like it had survived one or two wars.

***

The friends had spent the night in their sleeping bags, which they had completely forgotten about. It had been agreed to meet early in the morning, so the friends woke up as early as possible. After gathering their sleeping bags, they headed to the docks. But they couldn't find the old man. Charles and Herald had spent the night in a side alley because it was loud by the docks—the birds, the chatter, and the waves of the sea bay—and now they regretted it.

With every corner they turned, the friends' hearts began to beat faster and faster—where had that old sea wolf gone? But to their great relief, the sages finally found him in his place, smoking a cigar.

"Hey!" Charles shouted.

"Ah, there you are," the fisherman drawled in his old, hoarse voice.

The whole trio, without much ado, got in and settled into the wooden boat. In comparison to the day before, it was loaded with fishing nets and other sailors' odds and ends. The old man immediately started to row. It was interesting to see the panoramic view from a distance. The feeling was like being on one of those tourist gondolas.

***

The "perfect" time to set off was chosen. Before noon, storm clouds began to gather, and the storm itself started around lunchtime. The storm, of course, grew stronger, then weaker, and continued to cycle like that. But at the peak of the storm, massive waves washed over the boat from all sides. Charles and Herald began to feel ill—they got seasick, but the old sea wolf showed no signs of emotion. The feeling was like being on a roller coaster, and it lasted for two hours without stopping. The adventure was unforgettable, but not in a good way.

Finally, after several hours at sea, the seasick pair was dropped off on the shores of Croatia. Both friends immediately bent down to kiss the ground, still tasting salt in their mouths. After that, the sages expressed their truly heartfelt gratitude and farewells to the old man, and they set off at a slow and shaky pace deeper into the city of Poreč.

"So, Charles, where exactly does your sister live? Because I don't know for sure," Rimnijs mentioned along the way.

"She lives in the Croatian capital, Zagreb," Bridgton explained.

"Oh, then we'll just hop on a train, and in an hour or so, we'll be there!" Herald seemed to cheer.

Walking through the streets of Poreč, the friends noticed that there were signs pointing to the station scattered all around. Of course, there were also people everywhere because it had just started the lunch break. The streets were filled with jazz and saxophone notes, the chatter of people from the café, and the incessant squawking of seagulls on the nearby shoreline.

"Hm, interesting why there are so many signs pointing to the station," Charles pondered aloud.

"Maybe that station is very important, maybe it's even very fancy!" Herald hoped.

But, as they turned the last corner, the friends were not at all prepared for what they would see. They hadn't even imagined such a scenario—that it could ever be this way, at any time, or anywhere.

Turning the final corner, the friends found themselves in front of the station. It was completely bombed out and crumbling. Heavy restoration work was going on all around—cranes, bulldozers, and other heavy machinery were tirelessly at work. This, of course, meant that the station was not in operation.

This was one of the veeeeeeeery rare times when Charles cursed—quietly to himself. After that, the emotional spectacle began. Both friends were already quite exhausted and had hoped to relax peacefully on the train deck, but no such luck! To an outsider, it looked like an argument, and in fact, it partially was, but they weren't arguing with each other; they were rather arguing with the station or with themselves.

"Alright, that's enough for me; let's go on foot and be done with it!"—Charles resolutely looked at his friend.

"There are no other options," Herold bluntly replied.

And so they once again took on the impossible task of traversing the distance. You might think they had little energy left and would soon collapse on the side of some remote road. Nothing could be further from the truth. Their anger at this failure and discomfort gave them an inexhaustible energy. They practically flew on their two legs.

The next day, they arrived in Rijeka. Herold Rimnijs had an excellent idea—why not use the train station in this city? Bridžtons Ermogrofs praised him for such ingenuity, as he hadn't even thought of it himself.

The friends exchanged their Swiss francs for Croatian lira at a local bank. The exchange rate was one to one hundred, meaning one Swiss franc was equivalent to one hundred Croatian lira. Coming out of the bank, the friends were laden with low-value money.

Then, the next destination was the train station. Rijeka's station was neither good nor bad—it was a standard-level European station. Tickets to the capital—Zagreb—were purchased. The train arrived almost immediately, and the friends rushed to be the first to get into the cabin.

Once inside the locomotive and having found their seats, the friends settled in comfortably. They tried to relax and recharge their internal batteries as much as possible. Hours flew by unnoticed until the train finally stopped at Zagreb Central Station.

The smart ones found it hard to leave the comfortable and ergonomic seats, but when the train crew started sweeping them out with a broom, there was no choice left. Exiting the locomotive, both bakers of cakes navigated through the huge city station and finally made it to the street.

It was a lovely day in Zagreb—sunshine and birds chirping. It was a stark contrast compared to the hellish stretch the friends had to cross to even set foot on Croatian shores, let alone arrive here. But here they finally were.

The knowledgeable ones immediately began to orient themselves about where and how to go. First, they headed in the completely opposite direction. But you know how it is to be in a big city for the first time—confusion sets in immediately. However, after a moment, well, actually several moments, the friends at least started heading in the right direction.

"So, do you already know where to go?"—Herold asked his best friend.

"Pft, no, are you crazy?"—Bridžtons retorted.

"But where are you leading me?"

"I'm going in a general direction, but the exact address is in my wallet. Can you quickly rummage through your bag and hand me my wallet?"

And that's just what Rimnijs did. It took several minutes for the sock to search through every compartment of the bag. But soon enough, the light yellow crocodile leather wallet was already in Bridžtons' hands. Just like the big bag, the wallet had countless compartments. There were mini-paintings from old excursions, money collected during this trip, historical coins, a son's amulet, notes about what to buy in the store, and, of course, address notes.

The right slip of paper was the very first one that Charles pulled out. It read: "Berta Bridgerton - Cvjetna ulica (Flower Street)." He immediately lifted his eyes and, puzzled, looked around for directions.

Flower Street? Where could it be? - Harold glanced hopefully at Charles.

Wait, I think I'm starting to remember… - Bridgerton slowly pulled out. - Alright, let's go!

And so they went along the winding paths. The paper did not have the exact address written on it, as Bridgerton had a sketch of the house on another note. Charles told them that the street was not far from the station. After about half an hour, they suddenly stopped.

What's going on? - Harold asked his friend.

I can swear that the street was here. - Charles pointed to a densely grown summer lilac.

Wait, isn't that the name of the street! - Harold pointed to a moss-covered sign that had grown into the lilac.

Then the street must be behind these lilacs! - Bridgerton pondered. - Harold! Can you help me move some of these branches out of the way so we can sneak behind the tree? - Harold agreed to help.

With combined effort, they managed to open up a passage wide enough for both of them to quickly slip inside. They didn't hesitate for a second and did just that. The passage closed tightly behind them.

On the other side was a wide street made of red bricks, which in several places was covered with vines. There was a house on each side of the street.

The house is on the left. - Charles explained.

The house!? That's a whole castle! - Harold gasped, admiring his friend's sister's magnificent home.

Hey! Here she is! Little sister, could you please let us in? - Bridgerton called out to his sister, who was relaxing on the front porch.

Oh, big brother, what are you doing here? - Berta said happily in excitement, ushering them into her kingdom.

Well, we just decided to visit you for a laugh. - Charles cheerfully announced.

What a pleasant surprise! Just as my birthday is approaching! - Berta chattered as the guests walked past the fountain. - Can you even believe that your little sister is turning ♦♦ years old?

Yes, I can actually. That's not such a big age after all.

As the conversation settled, the guests paid more attention to the yard. It was quite interestingly arranged, with rocky paths connecting all the interesting spots. There was a pond, a love tunnel, and a pool at the end of the yard. Charles and Harold also noticed strange wooden houses placed in two small villages - each at their own garden end. The area was also not lacking garden gnomes, which Harold decided to count.

I can swear that gnome just winked at me! - Charles whispered to his friend nearby.

Yes, and that one over there just waved at me! - Harold exclaimed in astonishment.

Charles's sister, who had been diagnosed with ultra-hearing, immediately crystal clear heard the quiet discussion of the two guests.

Ah, I forgot to tell you about the gnomes, the thing is… they are alive. - Berta explained in a mysterious tone.

Suddenly, all the gnome figurines in the garden relaxed and let out long sighs. This seriously startled Harold (he has a phobia of inanimate things that come to life).

And with that, I warmly welcome you to Gnome Land! - Berta announced royally, with both hands raised in the air.

Days passed unnoticed. Both scientists had now changed their disguises for their everyday clothes. Berta had sewn up Harold's injury (which he got in Luxembourg during a raider attack). Overall, everyone felt quite relaxed.

Charles and Harold had also made friends with the garden gnomes. They could now name all the gnomes (there were many, around twenty). These gnomes were also very skilled – they prepared breakfast, lunch, dinner, and everything in between.

Of course, it wasn't the case that the friends were just resting at home or in the garden all the time; they had to earn their livelihood. The rules in Berta's Gnome Land were stricter than one might think. Berta made a work plan for every day with various tasks, such as fixing the barn door or weeding the petunia bed, and for every completed task, Charles and Harold earned a meal. Berta had secretly explained that she used this system for the gnomes as well, and that the friends needed to follow it too; otherwise, the gnomes might decide that these rules didn't apply to everyone and that they could also choose not to follow them. The scientists understood this logical explanation.

During this euphoric time, Charles's sister's birthday was also celebrated, which is on July 1st. Their father from Bridgton came to the party from Berlin, whom both friends had last seen on the way to Kraken's Shores. Also, their neighbor, who lived across the street, arrived at the hospitable celebrations. She had tragically lost one leg in an accident, and now a new, robotic leg (which converted nerve impulses into physical movement) had taken its place. This meant that Berta's neighbor was technically a cyborg.

As it turned out, Flower Street also continued a bit further along. There were three more properties there, and their owners also came to Berta's royal jubilee. It was indeed a lively celebration that would leave an everlasting memory in the minds of every guest.

As the celebrations progressed, Charles began to remember the quest. It had been neglected for an unknown number of days. He inadvertently also thought about The Wall and the others who had stayed in Rome to defend the armor. He wondered how they were doing now. Bridgton also pondered further, thinking about where those fones would finally lead them, where this epic adventure would end. In any case, the scientist had to explain to his sister about their mission.

"Bertie, can we talk for a bit?" Charles hinted at the breakfast table, which overlooked the entire yard.

"Yeah, go ahead." Berta, sipping her coffee, encouraged him.

"The thing is, Harold and I didn't come here just for fun. We actually have a mission. After the collapse of the Berginhem Tower, we were given a kind of puzzle piece called a 'fone.'" Bridgton took a breath so Berta could interpret the information. "This device spoke to us and told us to go further and further, and with each destination, we received a new fone. Now we are still looking for the next device; do you think you could help us find it?"

"You did what!? You knocked down the Berginhem Tower?" It seemed that Berta was more interested in this fact than in everything else.

"Yes, but that's no longer important. We need to find the next puzzle piece – the fone. Can you help us?" Charles pleaded.

When Berta nodded in agreement, both friends cheered. The gnomes also came to help with the search.

The entire property was searched, and the interior of the house was turned upside down. Nothing had been found yet. But then suddenly one of the dwarves exclaimed, "Hey! I think I found it!" When Bridgton approached closer, he saw that it was just an ordinary puzzle piece that had fallen behind the refrigerator.

"No, this isn't the right one," Bridgton sighed deeply. "Maybe we should look in the attic?"

They all went to the attic hatch located on the second floor (since the house had three floors), and with the help of Berthe and Harold, they pried open the entrance. It hadn't been used for years and had long since become clogged.

There wasn't enough room in the attic for everyone, so only Charles, Harold, and Berthe went up there. The third floor was cluttered with all sorts of old boxes, rags, and artifacts. As it was nearing midday, golden sunlight flowed in through the skylights. Charles dreamily gazed at the divine shimmer, and he accidentally found the next fone.

It was hidden behind several boxes at the edge of the pile of items. Bridgton called the others.

"There it is! How are we going to get it?"

"Wait, I think I could climb up there, well, at least it's worth a try," Harold offered and did.

It took him several minutes of balancing and searching for the right gravitational point, but he finally grabbed it with his socked hands and tossed it to the others. The thing was that one of the dwarves caught it.

"Joshua, please give that back to me," Charles's sister scolded the dwarf seriously.

"Oh, how beautiful it is… it would be a shame if something happened to it," the dwarf Joshua huffed, ignoring the queen's instructions.

Then it suddenly darted down the stairs towards the garden. The whole trio followed him closely. Along the way, Berthe also enlightened the other dwarf brothers and sisters about the situation. Once they reached the large courtyard, the gang didn't have to run around for long before the scoundrel Joshua was surrounded from all sides.

The fone was successfully retrieved, and Joshua was successfully reprimanded. Harold didn't waste any time and immediately turned on the device's recording. The recording sounded like it was coming from his sister's radio, and above the fone appeared a hologram with the letters "ZE."

The voice announced:

"If this place was dear and familiar to you, then the next one will be even more so; it is the very origin of it all. There are no dangers waiting there, at least that's how it seems to me... this will be your final destination, where you will find the last fone. I wish you good luck!" The voice became increasingly incomprehensible and crackly until it completely faded away.