I descended the hill.
The kingdom was vast and mighty. It was surrounded with tall, ancient walls that spoke how it survived from calamities and destruction. The peak of the city wall could be barely seen. I could guess no one would dare climb its might, otherwise they would fall out of breath. Surrounding the kingdom was a lake, it was azure and deep and biodiverse. You would catch a fish flying out of water as if it bore wings and a brethren of a bird, but it was only its nature akin to Exocoetidae. Exocoetidae are a family of marine fish in the order Beloniformes class Actinopterygii, known colloquially as flying fish. Well, that was only a species in our world, this world was nowhere similar. Their flying fish were minty green, like grass but a little pale. Its eyes were also green and huge; you would say they were judging you from their looks. Yet, I paid it no mind and carried on with my journey.
I languidly walked past the rock bridge that connects the curve of the kingdom gate to the land. Two guards in a wooden armour stood steady on both sides. One hand held a sphere, while the other was folded behind their back. Their armour tells this world had not yet discovered a quick way to carved metals, saving valuable ores and metals for greater good, hence their looks. I could assume positions varied depending on their armour, and ones in wooden armour were the lowest. I ran a look over their physiques. Deducing from their build and muscle forms, they were slacking from training. Their spear was silver and smooth, not a scratch could be seen telling me they were incompatible in real combat, incompetent in brawling, and losers from a war. They were no scars from a battle, their skin was glass and white, as if of a noble's but clothes inside the armour spoke otherwise.
Their eyes met mine when my foot landed on the threshold of the kingdom. It was a beat of nervousness that rushed through me when they began to tilt their neck.
"Welcome to Blue Moonfall Festival of the Kingdom of Argus!" In unison, they yelled.
English? I thought.
The problem about coming from another world was communication. Language grew differently in our tongue depending on what land it had been cultivated. This land was new to me, and completely different from Western countries I had known, yet they spoke English. How could this be? They sounded English, yet nothing English came out of their mouth. My brain processed their mother tongue as if it were mine, and unfathomably, I could understand them. The only reason I could think was: my brain processed the soundwaves they produced, but I was no superhuman. How could a weakling like me be able to practise such a complicated brain activity?
I swayed away my thoughts.
A festival, huh?
"Thank you." I bowed to exit.
I roamed my eyes around, and the kingdom was lively. In a far great distance surrounded with heavy green and tall trees, atop the gigantic rock a lot bigger and higher than malls I could see from our world stood a palace with blue roofs and flags. It screamed wealth and nobility. While everything around me was a casual wooden residence adorned with flowers and paper stripes of different colours I guess because it was a festival, Blue Moonfall Festival as the guards called it.
The place was loud and heavily crowded. But with my nature good at sneaking, I easily went past the swarm of people gathering around for something. When I reached the front, it was a floral stage designed with blue fabrics in different shapes hanging loose over the background.
"I cannot wait for Princess Aldeni and Our Majesty!"
"No, Princess Dewinz is more beautiful!"
"No, The Queen is!"
"Geez! The Queen is old. What the fuck man?"
"Old in face, young in heart. What else could you wish?"
"Come on, man? Are you sick? The seven princesses have it better!"
It was a bunch of men talking at the back of me I could hear quarrelling when another voice spoke, it was of a woman, and she sounded old.
"We have different tastes, you know."
I did not turn my head, but I knew they froze and were taken aback. The man on my right who spoke to have liking towards the queen bolted out when he heard another old in face, young in heart woman spoke who seemed to have interest in a man who likes older and grey-haired women. I knew it was a farce, so I found it funny and breathed a soft chuckle.
"You weirdo old hag!" The others screamed and then momentarily ran off, following the first guy who had long been gone.
The woman laughed and moved forward, now she's inches away from me. I ran a gaze over her totality and remained staring. Her clothes looked old, older than me I supposed. She was all black, and was only shoulder tall. Her waist was clutched with a muddy rope with empty vials intricately designed and tied around her. Her eyes were not completely open, but I knew she could see, and her back was a little hunched I assumed due to ageing. She's quite old, like in her 80s, but strong enough for her age to manage to avoid a deathbed.
"I'm a witch..." she spoke softly, "and you are?"
That made total sense, but I did not know they existed. Shouldn't witches have a long, pointy hat and elongated nose?
"I'm... human?" Confused, I answered.
What else was I supposed to be?
"Boy, you're not." It was an almost silent declaration, but it shook me to my core.
"Are you seeing me well? You must have poor eye-sight," I retorted.
I can't be not human. Back then over the bridge at the gate entrance, I saw my reflection on the lake, but I looked similar to how I looked in my original world. No features were changed, not even my old, oversized clothes and shabby pants.
She raised her head. "Come, near. Show me your hands."
Hesitant as I was, I slid near her and offered my hand over her palms. She held it. Her touch was gentle and curious. She caressed my palm and traced the lines when she froze after she reached the end.
"What's wrong, Lola?" She was not my grandmother, but that was how I addressed old women to radiate respect.
"Tell me," she paused, "what is your family name, young man?"
I was 19, but she addressed me as if I was younger than my age.
"Family name?"
"Surname."
I knitted my brows. "Was I supposed to have one?"
My name is Kraftlosheid. I did not have a surname, but grandma told me it was the -heid that I bore that made me belong to the family. In a sense, branching from our ancestors, everyone had -heid as our suffix, we did not have a separate surname— only something that was connected to our given would be the means to know we were kin by blood. My grandma's name was Eudorheid; while I did not know who my parents were, I was certain they bore the same suffix as I did. But why, curious was the old woman who I had met at this festival.
"Child..." She raised her hand wide open waiting for something to lock on, I thought it was my hand she awaited, but in an abrupt moment, a broom flung fast towards her grip. She's a witch after all. "Come with me."
"What?"
"Come with me. I will introduce you to someone," she answered, but her gaze was far from mine, contemplating matters I reckoned were above me.
"Why?"
"You'll know."
"Can't I know now?"
"Young man, this matter is of utmost importance," she replied, firm in her words to blast authority over me. I did not submit.
"How about the festival?"
"It. Is. About. The. Festival." Every word was spoken with emphasis as if I was a stubborn child insisting my mother buy me a lollipop— not that I did not have sweets, I also did not have a mother.
"How is my name related to a festival?" I paused, things ran wild in my head. I was a child of the library but this matter was beyond books I could barely keep up with. "Are you for real? Kraftlosheid, related to the Blue Moonfall Festival? You've gone mad!"
My voice went a bit loud and it glided past the swarm yonder. Their heads turned towards me and an alarm of panic brewed a storm in my heart. It was racing. The crowd began to whisper.
"A Heid? How preposterous to assume he is a Heid? He must be crazy!"
"Heid? To speak such a revered name with disrespect is worth beheading! This is not child's play! This is the core of the Kingdom of Argus!"
"Youth nowadays really are full of big words. They do not know what they are talking about. Innocent and evil, what a combination."
"I second. Their behaviour is going astray. To assume himself with the name of the gods and goddesses. He must have lost his mind."
Name of the gods and goddesses? What were they talking about? Clearly, you could be certified yourself as Heid when your parents named you after it. What's the big deal?
"Young man, hop in!" Before the old witch could even finish her words, I rode the back of the broom and settled myself at the back of her. This definitely defied the laws of physics.
"Did I say... something wrong?" I initiated a conversation.
The broom had not yet departed, it remained steady. There were enchantments she spoke of about light feather and sky something before she replied to me.
"These people have their eyes on you, cover your face or you'll be dead before morning. You speak so lightly of our gods as if you're kin to them. You disrespected the Kingdom of Argus," she coldly spoke.
"They're just sensitive."
"They're cultured."
"Overly reacting to small things isn't a culture, it's a toxic trait."
"Even small things are great deals."
"Only if you make it a big deal, which they did."
"You don't know anything."
"No, I think I get the picture—"
Before I could finish my words, we glided through the vastness of sky defying the force of gravity to slam us down. The broom was fast and my hair went berserk with the gush of sudden wind coming through my face. I held tightly at the broom, afraid it might crook and break, but peculiarly, it was as hard as gold but lighter than a normal broom.
So this is magic, I thought.
"SLOW THE FUCK DOWN! I CAN'T BREATHE!" I yelled with all the air left in my lungs.
The kingdom shrank as we went higher. The clouds were wet and cold, but the witch paid it no mind. The swarm of people in the festival was nowhere to be seen, at this point, they were but dots of black and different colours. From above, the palace became more gigantic. I did not know it was this vast and enormous. I only saw the noble walls and cones and flags from below, but from this point of view, you could gaze all over the corners.
In the middle beside the fountain with the bluest of water oozing from within and floral beads and bouquets surrounded, there were people in long, white garments reaching and expanding through the ground with golden cotton vests yoked around their necks. They wore a long hat, not pointy but curved enough to speak of power. They were high priests, circling on the water with hands held and heads downcast in respect. I did not hear them from here, but they were praying. What a peculiar world to see from above.
I was not afraid of heights. When I was a child, I was always brought to the abandoned building a little farther from my grandma's house, held from my feet; I was upside down. On the third floor, I was thrown over for fun and they would guffaw every time they heard a loud thud, indicating I fell hard. My bones did not break, thankfully, as though they were metals, not even a heat could bend them. So each time they found me again, it only repeated. I was used to it. I was used to falling. I was used to height. If everything really did happen for a reason, perhaps this moment was the reason.
Before I could yell again, the broom descended to a wooden building with slabs hanging on the entrance. It looked like a church, I knew it wasn't. It was huge, but nothing like a palace. It was old, but compared to the walls of the gates of the kingdom, this came newer.
"I thought I was going to die!" Exhilarated, I commented.
The witch did not look at me, and hopped off the broom. The broom tilted and I almost fell out of balance but my knees tightened its grip on the wooden end of the broom and I slowly jumped out of it before I appeared to be clinging upside down. The broom then began to bolt out the moment she flicked her fingers, commanding the broom to get back where it came from. I did not know where it came from nor did I care to know. All I knew was it was magical. That was what's important.
"Where are we?" I asked.
The witch stood steady beside me and did not speak. We were in front of a huge column of doors with scratches and holes. I could hear people mumbling from the inside. It was emitting a dark aura. All I sensed was danger, but the witch was not frightened. Above the door was the slab I saw earlier, words were intricately carved upon it. It was minimalistic, but eye-catching enough as it looked like a survivor of battle and honours.
It read Adventurer's Guild.
I approached the door. Every step was cautious and curious. When I reached the little staircase towards the entrance, I gazed back at the witch. Confused and panicking, black smoke started to emit from her body and a black adorned with red stones staff emerged from the ground as if it was always there awaiting the master. When the smoke disappeared, the old woman became younger and innocent. She was in her 30s. But her eyes were hostile like snakes that would strike a bite when you stared longer. Her hair curled. Her skin was snow white and jewelries began to germinate all over her body: golden earrings; ruby necklace; bracelets that stretched up to her elbow. She was in the purest of black, even her boots and lips were darker than the night. This was the witch I knew growing up. This was what I read and watched in shows. Flamboyant yet simple. Evil yet pure.
"Woah..." I muttered in surprise.
"This..." I stretched my hands. "This is how you really looked?"
"Why, of course! You think of me so poorly, dear." Now, even her choice of words was different, as though the old woman I met a moment ago was a different person.
"You look sharp and beautiful..."
"Oh, please, do not flatter me. You are beautiful yourself. Like a lady, but..." She paused. "In the body of a young man. I have not really peered through you a while ago. I did not have time. But look at you, beautiful and handsome, what could this be? Where is this beauty from? Who are you really?"
Her gestures were demure yet belligerent. Witches are known to have been a slave of beauty. They envy every ounce of what you have the best. Features of god. Nose like a mountain. Skin like snow. Lips like roses. They drool over it.
"Thank you." were the words I only spoke.
She giggled and swung the door open.
It was a silence from the crowd that greeted us. A second ago was a fusion of noises from different tables, but the appearance of the witch was a stopper. It was as if the god itself had descended to the earth and people witnessed its greatness, dumbstruck to the power and authority it possessed. The dark aura I sensed from the entrance door vanished, like a dark spirit was dispersed and the surroundings cleansed. She must be quite a figure.
"What is that boy doing beside the Great Witch of the Black Forest? Has she gotten herself a servant now? That was unheard of!" the man on the table nearest to the door beside the open window whispered to his buddy. It was almost silent, but my senses were acting weird. I could hear them.
"You think she's here for revenge? They have quite a relationship with the guildmaster."
"What is she doing in the Blue Moonfall Festival? Is she here to wreak havoc?"
"This is bad! Should we leave this place at once? I don't want to get caught in trouble."
"What is that boy doing beside her? Was he not afraid? She emits aura darker than the ugliness she hides—"
The man choked to death and bubbles sprouted on his mouth before he could even finish his words. Ugliness was the word no witch liked to hear. It was his thump that broke the silence in the guild. Inside the guild, no one screamed, but their silence was loud, afraid and anxious about what might happen to them considering they had witnessed the cold body of a man lying dead only after he spoke ill of the witch. The body was not moved nor approached, not even an attention was thrown over it. Their eyes locked on the witch and me. No one dared to speak. Was it her doing? Was she that powerful?
The witch began to walk, so did I. The click every time her boots touched the marble floor echoed and fear rushed through the faces of every person we walked past. The gulps and sweating were evident, and panicked drew their eyes. They were taken aback from her presence as if destruction was to be beheld.
"G-Good afternoon! How might I be of service, Lady Aztera?" The attendee of the guild spoke as a greeting.
The witch crept a smile.
Aztera, I see. A beautiful name, I thought.
"Where is the guildmaster? I need to talk to him," coldly, she spoke.
Rumours began to emerge but were stopped after her abrupt turn of head towards the adventurers who were sat panicking in their seats.
"H-He's in the Guildmaster Hall. He's expecting your presence. I will walk you to him."
"She's coming with me." She pointed at me with her thumb without turning gazing over.
I stood still behind her back. Like the barbaric and armoured men having tremors, fear was also growing inside me, hence our little distance.
"Right. I will walk you and him to him." Emphasis on him was evident to avoid angering the witch. "This way."
It was a long, spiral staircase before we could reach another floor. The railings were wooden but shiny like hazelnut porcelain. Although old, I could say it was quite under thorough and consistent maintenance.
Soon as our appearance disappeared from the sight below, the crowd began to share chin music again with one another. I thought the witch would stomp her boots to silence the swarm of people below, but she did not; instead, she remained composed and face fierce. The noise below might be increasing, but they fell on deaf ears and paid with no mind. Perhaps it was an act that the witch struck the man dead to assert dominance towards the public. Whatever the reason, this witch should be trampled with, otherwise your path would only lead to your unfortunate doom.
Drowned in thoughts, I failed to notice we were approaching the door. It was wooden and vaguely painted with the darkest of green. Affixed to the doorway was a plaque with Guildmaster Office carved in fine sophistication. Whirl of voices from the inside could be heard growing louder in every click of footwear.
"No, you cannot!" The gasp of the man inside the room echoed. Though the door was closed, I could recognise it was the voice of an old person.
"Yes, I can." While it was short and calm, authority exploded in every word spoken. Perhaps that was the voice of the guildmaster. It was shrill yet booming; collected yet intimidating. Perfectly balanced for the mouth of a leader.
"The supply for the uprising will be cut short, Paris! Have you not thought of your decisions rationally? I have documented and calculated the cost, your offer was not enough! I need a raise, even a little." Pleading came after when the guildmaster replied.
"Although I would like to financially aid the cause, I am afraid I cannot do anything about it, My Duke. With the appearance of Demonlord around, adventurers are afraid to take quests. Too many quests have been untouched since. I know you have heard that monster loots are expensive and in demand. However, I have nothing to sell to the market because no one dares to venture and kill monsters to supply my guild with the loot they drop. The Demonlord is not undoubtedly kind, if you have forgotten. One touch on his possession and you will drop dead. No one wants that, I hope you understand." As we were getting nearer, the guildmaster paused. He must have sensed we were coming. "Now, if you really want me to support this uprising financially, provide me with people who will clear the quests in the bulletin board below."
Then the attendee opened the door.
Despite how huge the guildmaster was when my eyes laid on his tall and bulky physique, it was the slam of a bald man on the other side of the oak table that took me aback. I knew he was disappointed and exasperated without even looking at how crumpled his face was. Beside the old man who had just waged his fury was a guy my age, hooded. He wore a white coat that expanded through the floor, similar to what I had seen on priests surrounding the palace fountain a little while ago. However, when meticulously peered, the fabric was more refined and delicate. Perhaps this was how it should look in near sight? But no, the use of sophistry was unmatched!
"Quite a lovely show now, isn't it?" The witch marched forward with arms folded, mocking the conversation the old man and the guildmaster just had. "Have we interrupted something?"
The guildmaster's eyes squinted, a moment later it brightened. But just a second after, the desire fled away and began to cough, indirectly commanding the attendee to escort the two men sitting on the other side of the table out. I remained standing on the doorway, intently observing and building theories in my head. What exactly were they discussing, a Demonlord appearance? Such a fantasy thing existed here?
"You're earlier than expected. That alone, it must really be an intriguing news that you made use of your broom to come here a lot quicker. Get yourself seated on the sofa and–" His attention diverted to me. "Oh, look at that. New face. Who could you possibly be?"
The attendee held the bald man's arm to kindly escort him out, but he swayed his hand in full contempt. "Don't touch me!"
Before the two men finally reached the exit with the attendee trailing their shadow, the guy my age gazed over me. His eyes met mine, it was a deep, deep midnight blue. Although his head was wrapped in a hood, his smooth, platinum hair dangling above his brows was showing. His skin was pale as snow, lips as calm as the maple grove. A little taller than I was, but I sensed he was submitting to me. Silent was their exit, yet it was as if we shared a short conversation by staring before they totally departed and were gone.
"Just someone," I spoke in reply to the guildmaster.
He rose from his seat which was expectedly wooden and immensely polished, and trailed his way towards me. He extended his hands. I thought it was some weird greetings considering this was not the world I knew, but he was only shutting the door closed.
"Look how adroit at communication this young man you fished." He marvelled and looked back to the witch who was now sitting flirtatiously on the guildmaster's table with a finger hooked on the side of her vivid red lips. "You always surprise me."
So they were acquaintances? Was she selling me or some sort?
"Wait till you dig further. You will be out of words!" She giggled, but it was not out of madness, it was rather inviting.
"What is it that made even the Great Witch curious? Pray tell," excitedly, the guildmaster roared.
"Help yourself." She motioned her hands to my direction.
At first, the guildmaster's face was confused, staring absentmindedly. But only a second did he pull himself together and knit his brows. He smiled and came near. His footfall was heavy, but the wooden floor did not crack, I supposed was specifically built for him. I budged forward and gawked with an emotionless face.
He circled around me before he finally began to speak, "Amuse me."
Perplexed, I tilted my head, still emotionless. "What?"
"Didn't you hear? Amuse me." It was firm and authoritative, but like that towards the witch, I did not submit.
"Amuse you how?"
"Appraise me."
"How do you do that?"
He scoffed, struggling to not breathe a laugh but he faltered. "Scan me. Tell me what I am. Impress me."
"Why?"
"Because."
"That was your reason?"
"My very reason."
The witch sat on the guildmaster's seat and plunged her head on the table in boredom.
"Shouldn't you be asking my name first?"
"Only after knowing if you're worth remembering."
"Oh, for the Six High Elves' sake! Just do it!" the witch hollered, running out of patience listening to our meaningless exchange of words.
Can I even trust these people? Why were they so interested in me?
"Fine," I began, "for starters, this is yours, isn't it? You built this guild yourself, not something you inherited from your ancestors, but was established on your own. The kingdom did not support you in the matter. I am uncertain of the reason, but the probability is: knights are capable of slaying monsters to provide expenses for the kingdom, there is no need for adventurers. Yet you pursued what you felt was right and continued the construction despite backlash and criticism, thankful that it wasn't ridiculed further after people in the different classes realised it opened more opportunities for them." I paused and trudged towards the open window to peek at the gathering of masses outside. "How did I know? This guild is wooden in every corner I land my eyes on, even the furniture. Considering how extravagant and luxurious-looking the palace is, supplying gold and porcelain during construction shouldn't hurt their pockets, should they? Yet, not even the plaque was gold. Further, the staircase was spiral to avoid taking a lot of space because you could not afford another metre expansion as it might fall out of your target expenses.
The floor here was, albeit wooden, hard. It was of great quality, something expensive. One might think it is to circumvent cracks when it shrinks or expands, but who will spend such a large amount of money for a wooden floor when you can find cheap ones? Men your size are hard to come by, why specifically build such a floor for them? So I thought, because circumvention alone is not the sole reason. You are tall and significantly heavy, you want wood that can support you. If this establishment was something you inherited, this floor has long collapsed upon your first entry, but it didn't since it was built and designed for you error-free. And no, you cannot say perhaps it has been renovated upon your inheritance, it is not. The texture of the wood used for walls was no different from that of the floor.
Finally, although consistently maintained, attendees were lacking to manage the guild and adventurers, not even a guard was placed on the entrance. Tell me, was that marble floor below the doing of that duke just now? Considering all possibilities, that is the only hypothesis that's highly probable."
If you could describe how silent the vacuum was, this must be it. Even the throbbing of the guildmaster's heart could be heard. He did not blink, his eyes remained locked on me dumbfounded. It was as if his secrets were disclosed and he might be beheaded at my behest. Even the witch was stunned, frozen in the seat, contemplating. They did not realise I was done talking so I flicked my finger to fish them out of the pond of their thoughts.
It was five minutes past before the witch broke the silence, a smile carved on her slips. "My, isn't that amusing! Things could really tell stories even though they could not speak. Where did you learn that, reading something obvious but most people could not comprehend? What magic academy are you from, darling?"
Magic academy?
"I am in absolute awe!" The guildmaster finally spoke, falling to his knees. "Everything was correct as if you were always there, spectating me from a great distance in every second of my life. What spell is that?"
Spell? What now?
In daze, my forehead scrunched up with an eyebrow higher than the other. I was most certainly trying to impress him with my deduction skills, but who would have thought such a thing was foreign in this world?
"I am not from any magic academy and it was not certainly a spell. What are you both talking about?" It was a look of bewilderment I threw on their faces.
They looked at each, finally composed but a trace of amusement on their lips was still evident.
"That thing." It was the guildmaster.
"What thing?"
Now it was the witch who answered, "The thing you did. Like reading. What were you reading?"
"?"
"You're not reading something?" It was those excited eyes of the guildmaster that confused me more.
"I am not."
"So how was it done? What was the trick?" The witch came forward, while the guildmaster remained listless on the cold wooden floor.
"You mean the art of deduction?" I asked.
"The art of dueduction?" Curious, the witch's heart leapt out for excitement.
"De-duc-tion," I cleared.
"What on Venland is that?" In haze, they cross-questioned.
"That's pretty much common in my homeland." By homeland, I meant the Earth.
It was that answer which made them look at each other for one more time. Their eyes were intent as if they were mentally peeling off their skin. Their thoughts interconnected, and I remained bewildered. The art of deduction is an act of drawing logical conclusions based on the information given by a situation or phenomena, using your personal experiences and knowledge of the world. It was not difficult to pull stories from every side of your corner, you just had to be keen and observe.
Moments later after their long silence and staring contest, I flicked my fingers for another time but they remained frozen from where they were. For once, it became ineffective. When I was about to stomp the floor, in fierce and heavy tread, they started a conversation while looking at each other's eyes steadfastly. But it was a peculiar phenomenon, something I didn't see coming and would not foresee to come. Something that defied another façade of science. More curious about magic, I listened to them. To my surprise, it was another bafflement from this world, they spoke without opening their mouths unaware I could hear every word they said.
I knew it referred to me.
"The monster has arrived!"
***