Everyone is transported to the four corners of the city in an instant. In the blink of an eyelid, Armand finds himself in a deserted alleyway where he has not been seen before. A soft light grazes his face from just outside the alley. He moves cautiously in, leaning against the wall, and his eyes widen with fascination. Before him stretches a bustling street, filled with people and temptingly scented shops. Armand takes a step forward, suddenly remembering that Gaspard had mentioned a change of clothes during the teleportation.
"Wow! How did he do it? He looks like a peasant from the Middle Ages!" he exclaims, examining his new clothes: a gray tunic, black mittens probably masking his tattoo, baggy black pants and simple leather shoes. As he admires his outfit, a piece of paper slips from his belt. He bends down to pick it up and unfolds the piece of paper.
"A map? If this circle is anything to go by, I'm here. Seems consistent," he murmurs, scanning the alleyways adjacent to the shopping street. As he observes, he notices something curious: the dot on the map seems to be moving on its own.
"The point moves by itself? But it's only paper! It's probably thanks to Gaspard's magic... He seems to want me to go to another specific point," Armand realizes. Then he remembers that Gaspard had mentioned someone he trusted to train him for the next two months.
"That must surely be where this person he was talking about is. I guess I don't have much choice anyway," he resolves.
Armand wanders through the shopping street, captivated by the mix of smells and the diversity of stalls. Each stall arouses his curiosity, eerily reminiscent of the markets of his home world. Fresh fruit and vegetables, shiny fish scales, colorful meats, kitchen utensils and household objects captivate his gaze. He's still following the direction indicated by the map, when a merchant suddenly catches his eye. The man, dressed in a long purple tunic and sporting a most original moustache, rubs his hands together with a broad smile as he sees him approach.
"Hello, young man! You're not from around here, it's obvious with your big map and your lost-in-the-crowd look, are you?" he addresses Armand.
"Well... I must admit you're right. What do you want from me?" replies Armand, a little suspiciously.
"Excuse me, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Like, and I offer my divination services. Are you interested?" asks the merchant with a friendly air.
Armand stares skeptically at Like, thinking inwardly that he could be a charlatan trying to fool strangers. After all, he doesn't even have a single coin in his pocket to pay for anything.
"I'm Armand. I'm sorry, but even if I wanted to, I don't have any money. And by the way, could you tell me what currency is used in this city?"
The merchant frowned, not quite understanding what Armand meant, but he nevertheless tried to remain professional, answering him with large gestures accompanying his words.
"Oh, my good sir, here we use copper coins, just like everywhere else in Primis! You must have come from quite far away, perhaps from the other side of the sea, which is curious because Auroria isn't really close to the coast, but never mind!" explains Like, flashing an indulgent smile.
"From the coast? Do you know where I could find a complete map of Primis? I'd love to have one!" asks Armand enthusiastically.
Like lets out an amused smile at the innocence of the request and points to the map Armand is holding tightly.
"You think it's just a map of the city? I don't know where you unearthed this magic map, but why don't you try putting two fingers on it and spreading them like this," he replies, gesturing into the void to illustrate.
"Are you serious? As if we were zooming out an image?" wonders Armand, captivated by the idea.
"As if we what?" asks Like, a little puzzled.
"Oh, nothing, forget it..." stammers Armand as he hurries to test the method. He unrolls his card on Like's counter, places his thumb and forefinger on the paper, and slowly spreads them apart. To his surprise, the map's design gradually changes, revealing a vast central continent with contours reminiscent of South America, with a longer, curved southern tail dotted with multiple islands.
His gaze stops on an island called "Cristalluna", mentioned by Gaspard when he was talking about the vassals. Close to the coast of Primis, it is nevertheless a long way from Auroria, which lies in the east-central part of Primis.
"Well, you look to be in your early twenties, and from the look of you, you'd say you've never set foot here, or even seen a Primis map in your life. So where are you from? Your ignorance is fascinating, it intrigues me greatly..."
A piercing howl followed by the sound of destruction abruptly interrupts their conversation. Like and Armand turn towards the source of the uproar and see a woman on the ground, her fruit scattered around her, her stall overturned and shattered. A hooded individual, a bag heavily laden with stolen copper coins in hand, makes his way in their direction.
"Get out of the way, kid!" throws Like at Armand while reducing his stall to a tiny cube in the blink of an eye.
"We can't let him get away, he stole from those people!" retorts Armand, his gaze fixed on the thief looking for an exit among the crowd.
In one swift move, Like grabs Armand by the arm and pulls him towards him, leading them away from a troop of horsemen who suddenly appear, having come to surround the malefactor.
"What on earth is that?" exclaims Armand, stunned by the deployment of the guards.
"The Imperial Guard," replies Like in a serious tone, observing the guards' lances ready for action.
The guards were all around the thief, lances in hand and trained on him so he couldn't run away. The thief stopped dead in his tracks and we could see who was hiding under that hood. It was a dirty man, very thin and with battered clothes covered in blood-like stains.
"Let me through, you monsters," shouted the thief.
The guards tightened their formation, surrounding him further. A man stood out from the group, his white cloak emblazoned with the Imperial Guard emblem fluttering behind him. He steps forward, drawing his sword and pointing it at the thief.
"I'm Lieutenant Archie," he declares in a firm voice, "and I'm arresting you for two crimes. The first, for stealing this bag of money, abusing the kindness of this lady you attacked, and the second, for your escape from your master's dwelling. As a slave, you will receive no trial and will be transferred directly to the Silver Fortress."
The guards rush towards the thief in an attempt to arrest him, but he, in one swift movement, extracts a smoking bomb from his belt and throws it to the ground. The explosion releases a dense cloud of smoke that envelops the street. Armand and Like shield their faces with their arms, coughing in surprise at the irritating smoke.
When the veil of smoke finally dissipates, a tense silence falls over the spectators. They discover Archie, the tip of his sword smeared with blood and his boot firmly planted on the head of the defeated thief, wounded in the shoulder.
"What a pity for you," he murmurs, his voice echoing through the now quiet street. "It was a fine attempt, but it's been a long time since I mastered an echolocation magic to counteract such predictable escapes."
End of chapter 4.