The city of Aldermere rose before him, like something from an ancient dream, its stone walls weathered by the centuries of real and simulated time. Under Evan's improved vision, he could see the structure that underpinned the simulation: gossamer threads of Aether energy flowed through everything, sustaining the reality its inhabitants never doubted. The view was beautiful and jarringly uncomfortable at once, like seeing the skeleton beneath living flesh.
He stopped at the top of a small hill, so taking in the full impact of the settlement. The town stretched over several hills-the architecture chaotic and mixed into various styles, speaking out loud of actual historical development-the cathedral in its center dominated every view, its spires stretching towards heaven like eager fingers. Small buildings huddled around it, their narrow streets a network of twisting waterways that wound through the urban landscape. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the walls, as if they pulsed with some hidden meaning.
Evan adjusted the rough-spun clothes Arthur had provided him with-simple garments to help him blend in with the local population. The coarse material of the garment grated across his hypersensitive skin, reminding him further just how far he was from synthetic and manufactured Habellion materials. The sensor crystal dangled loosely on a leather thong around his neck. Gentle oscillations pulsed reassuringly like a constant heartbeat and told of his purpose. Each beat seemed to whisper time slipping away—seconds here were hours in Habellion, where his people fought their last desperate battle against the Cheso forces.
The gates were left open, and merchants and travelers kept flowing in and out, with armed guards observing all that went on. Evan followed the stream of people, keeping his head lowered while his enhanced senses scanned everything around him. The guards wore leather armor and bore the emblem of a rising sun. His briefing said this was the emblem of the local authority. Their weapons were by Habellion standards primitive: steel swords and wooden crossbows, but no less deadly to the unaugmented humans they were designed to control.
The stench hit him first: an overpowering mix of unclean bodies, animal waste, cooking food, and smoke from countless fires. His heightened senses, designed for Habellion's sterile environments, threatened to overwhelm him with input. The nanites in his system quickly adjusted, damping down his perception to manageable levels, but not before he had cataloged hundreds of distinct odors, each telling its own story about this medieval world.
"You there!" A guard's voice cut through the crowd. "State your business."
Evan turned, facing a gruff man with a scarred face and suspicious eyes. The guard's heart rate was elevated, his pupils dilated-signs of stress that Evan's medical training automatically noted. A thin sheen of sweat on his brow suggested fever, perhaps from an infected wound. The man was ill but hiding it, probably fearing loss of his position. This was his first test—the cover story had to work, but his medical instincts urged him to help.
"I'm a healer," he said, the words feeling strange on his tongue. "From the northern provinces. I seek work in the city." He kept his voice steady, matching the local accent he'd been programmed with.
The guard's eyes narrowed a little and Evan knew his posture shifted to convey belief that wasn't quite as true. "A healer, you say? We've gotten far too many charlatans peddling miracle cures recently. Show me your guild mark."
Evan fished out of his shirt a medallion Arthur had given him—a copy of the symbol for the local healers' guild, made with enough false history to pass any examination. The nanites in his body adjusted his breathing and heartbeat just enough to suggest calm, quiet confidence. As the guard inspected the medallion, Evan saw how he kept his left side stiff. Internal infection, running through his system. Left untreated, he had perhaps two weeks.
"The mark looks real," the guard admitted, handing the medallion back. A spasm of pain crossed his face, quickly covered. "Proceed. But know we are watching you. Any sign of trouble, and you will find yourself in the brig."
"Thank you," Evan said, then quietly added, "That injury to your side-it's much more serious than you believe. The infection is beginning to spread." He caught the startled look of the guard. "I can treat it, if you'd let me."
The guard's hand instinctively went to his side, fear flashing across his features. "How did you—" He cut himself off, glancing around to ensure no one had overheard. "The barracks, after sunset," he whispered. "Ask for Marcus."
Evan nodded and passed by, into the city proper. He'd made his first connection, though he wasn't sure if it'd help his mission or complicate it. The guard's condition was serious but treatable with his enhanced abilities. Helping him would establish credibility, but it would also draw attention. Every action here would have ripples, and he couldn't afford to create waves.
Inside the city walls, Aldermere was a maze of narrow streets and towering buildings made of stone and timber. The air grew heavy as he moved deeper into the urban sprawl, thick with the press of humanity. His enhanced senses picked up countless conversations, arguments, and transactions—the complex symphony of medieval life.
With each step towards the heart of the city, the pulsation in the sensor crystal was growing stronger, and its rhythm began to shift in such a manner that suggested nearby Aether anomalies. Something was there; the energy fields were in some disarray where they should not be in this simple simulation. He followed the signal, allowing it to steer him through the tangle of streets.
He became distracted by commotion ahead. A crowd has formed in a small square, raising their voices in either excitement or fear. The pulse of the crystal intensified. It was clear that something was going on ahead connected to this commotion. Medical instincts overrode Evan's mission before he was able to recall it:.
In the middle of the crowd, a young woman thrashed on the cobblestones. Her skin had grown blue, and Evan instinctively knew what it was—a toxin that should not be available in this low-energy environment: Aether poisoning. Evan's blood ran cold as he looked at her. If the simulation was losing integrity enough to let loose raw Aether on its tenants, things were worse than they'd thought.
"Back!" he bellowed, pushing his way through to kneel beside her. The crowd parted, whether from his authoritative tone or the subtle Aether field he was unconsciously projecting. Up close, his enhanced senses revealed the full extent of the damage—somehow, this woman had been exposed to concentrated Aether energy. Her body was fighting it like a poison, having never developed the tolerance that Habellion's citizens possessed from birth.
And the boy now had a choice. Either he would let her die, leaving the simulation just as it was, never interfering with the natural outcome. Or he could intervene; he could save her in some way that would undoubtedly spotlight his existence. The right choice was easy: his own life wasn't worth what one woman's might be worth: the completion of his mission. Yet he looked again at her contorted features, twisted by pain. He could not fail another person, not even here in this artificial world.
Evan placed his hands on either side of her head, siphoning off his own Aether energy to cancel out the foreign particles in her system. To the crowd watching, his hands would appear to glow with a divine light. To him, it was simply advanced medical technology doing what it was designed to do. The nanites in his system worked to regulate the energy flow, so he didn't overwhelm her already stressed body.
Her spasms stopped. Colour came into her cheeks as she drew a shaking deep breath. Her eyelids flickered, eyes focusing on his face as a sense of wonder shivered there like leaves in a gust that made him ache.
For one second, at that moment, she brought it all into his view-the everything that would be fighting for, there and for it in Habellion too.
'A miracle,' one of them whispered.
"The gods have smiled upon him," another's voice chimed.
Evan helped the woman into a sitting position, the way the crowd was all staring at him now acutely etched in his mind. Not exactly the subtlest entrance he had planned in a lifetime. In a desperate attempt to save one, he had just made his mission infinitely more complicated. The whispers were already flying through the crowd, and Evan could feel the shift in them: fear mixing with awe, doubt with hope.
"Thanks," she whispered, eyes wide with wonder. "I saw. while I was. there was a light, a beautiful blue light."
Evan's blood ran cold. She saw the Aether, glimpsed the fundamental energy that sustained her world. The separation between simulation and reality was breaking down in some ways already. Staggering implications came rushing in-if one person could perceive the Aether, others might do so too. The whole simulation unraveled.
As he lifted her to her feet, his sensor crystal pulsed again, stronger than before. He looked up, following its signal toward the towering cathedral that dominated the city's skyline. The massive structure seemed to shimmer in his enhanced vision, its stones threaded with unusual concentrations of Aether energy.
Whatever was behind the interference, whatever had poisoned this woman with impossible energy, the trail led there. To the heart of this world's faith, where science and belief were about to collide in ways he couldn't begin to predict.
He had only just taken his first step toward unraveling the mystery, but he had also done something far more dangerous-he had made himself noticed. In a world built on carefully maintained illusions, attention was the last thing he needed. Yet as he watched the woman reunite with her relieved family, he couldn't bring himself to regret his choice.
Now, the sun was sinking. Shadows stretched across the square. Soon he had to look for lodging, to start working on his cover, to go to the barracks to treat Marcus. First of all, however, he had to understand what had just happened. How could raw Aether have made it into this simulation? And how could all the pointers go towards the cathedral?
The crowd was breaking up, but he could feel eyes on him, sense the low conversations. In a city like this, word spread fast. By morning, everyone would know of the miraculous healer who had arrived at their gates.
Evan stroked the sensor crystal; steady pulses beat back through his fingertips. He still had three decades of local time left to complete the task but felt that all the action already was unfolding so much quicker than anyone had had reason to believe. Simulations began breaking down: reality began leaking through, and here he sat.
In Habellion, he had been nothing. Here, he had just become something far more dangerous-a miracle worker, a mystery, a focus of faith and fear. It wasn't the role he had planned to play, but perhaps it was the role he needed to succeed.
The cathedral bells began to toll, signaling the hour. Each deep note seemed to resonate with the Aether currents flowing through the city. Evan squared his shoulders and began walking toward the massive structure. It was time to discover what secrets lay hidden in this world's house of faith.