Chapter 18: The city of a thousand ports

Five minutes, zero letters.

“I don’t know how to begin,” he groaned.

We currently occupied some of the small chairs and a table in the post office. They had writing utensils and paper to borrow, which was just perfect since we didn’t have any of that. It came with a fee, of course.

“Maybe start with how sorry you are? Or just, you know, ‘Hello, I am fine, don’t worry’? Though given the state of this world they may have much to fear. Hmm.”

He scribbled something. It read: ‘Dear mom and dad,’.

“Look, just write everything you feel. The order doesn’t matter as long as it’s there,” I advised and stopped looking at him write in hopes of making him less nervous.

Paul took a deep breath, put the tip of his quill onto the paper, closed his eyes, and as he let his breath out he scribbled. He peeked with one eye at whatever he wrote, then groaned. One dip into the inkpot later and the gryphon was trying his ritual again, this time with more success. Soon enough the quill was dancing over the empty page.

“Now we’re officially broke.” I flipped the last talon we had. It’d buy us a piece of bread or whatever substitute these gryphons had. Thus we had no money to buy me anything, not even a bag. But I guess Paul did save my blankets, food could be hunted, and water could be shared.

Paul jovially landed beside me after doing a flip in the air. He seemed to move with such caress now as if a great weight fell from his shoulders. He smiled and intoned with a wink, “Worth it.”

I smiled back and pocketed the coin.

There wasn’t much for us in this village. Even if we found some boring-ass job, like sweeping floors for example, I don’t think it would help us much. What we’d earn would soon be spent on more food, drink, and lodging. No, there was nothing else for us in this village. Peace of the road was what we wanted, and sought it we did.

There was no fanfare as we left the village. No heads turned, only the guards that returned us our weapons and walked us out… well, to be fair, they had only Paul’s cleaver-axe, since my weapon got lost down in the rat pits.

Otherwise, we were just another pair of travellers, another pair of lost souls seeking thrill and death in a world very much generous in both regards it seemed.

That was pretty much it, really.

Living wasn’t so easy now that we didn’t have money. When water ran out, it had to be boiled from the nearby streams. Well, boiled for me at least, Paul didn’t seem to be affected by whatever could’ve been swimming in the water, parasites or bacteria. Gryphon stomach was an unmerciful beast.

Food had to be hunted, and again, boiled or roasted. Paul prefered it cooked, too, so each night we would build a large fire that could cook a few animals at the same time and throughout the next day we’d eat the leftovers. We tried to also keep the skins if we didn’t botch up the skinning part, as they could be sold in villages for some penny.

Of course, such large fires would sometimes attract attention.

One time a weary traveler came looking for a shelter. We heard the cracking before we heard the voice.

“Would there be place for a roadwalker?” He asked in a gruff voice, the kind which comes with traveling a lot where you don’t speak because you don’t have anyone to speak to.

The three rabbits and a pheasant – two rabbits for me, the pheasant and a rabbit for Paul – were already in the final stages of their preparation, while water was already being cooled off in a small hand cauldron that Paul had bought after selling some skins.

My mouth was already hurting from how much I clenched it in anticipation of the crispy goodness slowly glistening over the flames. The lack of salt or any spices hurt somewhat, though.

Paul and I looked at each other. There was enough food and water to be shared and we kept guard during the night anyway. Plus we knew the hardships of the road; it would be cruel for us to refuse someone in a similar situation as us.

“Come, sit,” I inquired to the shadows of the forest. Blinded by the campfire light, I couldn’t see the person behind the voice at first.

The figure came into the light, and I almost jumped back in fright.

Whatever it was, it didn’t look… natural. What looked like a ‘he’ towered over us, and if I had to guess was half my body higher than me. He wore patchy clothes over lean and muscular frame, behind which two great folded wings rested against his back. Head, body, and legs of a dog; arms, hands, and feet that of a dragon; a pair of horns running from the top of his head in waves, and sharp teeth, wicked and deadly, gleamed as he spoke. Truly the image of fright incarnate.

“A hybrid,” Paul hissed.

The strange being slowly sat down by the campfire, still easily towering above us, and spoke, “You say it like a curse.” He didn’t seem offended in the least.

Paul jerked back as if slapped. “Sorry, father taught me better.”

The creature in question gave an easy smile in reply. “Your father is good people.” The earth seemed to rumble beneath his deep baritone.

Beware. Hybrids are normally shy and afraid of others. But this one… he’s confident and in no way afraid. I’d advise caution.

I wouldn’t be afraid either if I was his size.

“Forgive my asking, but who or what are you?” I asked really slowly trying not to piss him off. I doubt either of us could do anything against him if he decided to taste some exotic flesh.

“A mistake to the world, a treasure to my parents – the latter is what matters,” he answered while putting down his own backpack beside him. He didn’t have to say anything else. I think it was pretty obvious that he was the love child of two very different species, and that he didn’t seem popular with others. How did the whole parent stuff work, anyway? No idea, but I guess even gryphons had to come from somewhere.

Gryphons are practically hybrids themselves, yet they consider other hybrids abominations. Never has there been a larger example of hypocrisy that this. I’ll also have to explain the cross-species thing to you sometime.

I nodded to that absentmindedly, though to others it looked as if I was confirming what the hybrid had said.

The food was done. I went about the business of getting the food out and distributing it among us. While doing so, we talked.

I began. “Where do you hail from, and where is your destination, if I might be so bold to ask?”

He nodded a thanks as I handed him a rabbit. “The city of a thousand ports is the place at my back, and the land of ponies is what my eyes hunger for,” he said and ate. “Where does your road carry you, wanderers?” He darted his eyes slowly between us.

I let my rabbit cool off, so in the meantime I just answered the question. Paul was already nibbling on his pheasant—carefully to not burn himself. The traveller had no such reservations, instead simply eating with sophisticated gusto.

“The capital city. The mountain roads are infested with diamond dog bandits. We have to go around.”

“Ah. What do you seek there?” he inquired after a moment of silence.

“Clues, I guess. Trying to find something… someone,” I don’t know what it was, but something about his demeanor, his visage – whilst terrifying, still somehow friendly – made me want to run my mouth off, to confess my sins and transgressions. He just had that kind of aura about him.

The traveller didn’t need to ask the obvious question.

“I’m trying – well, Paul here and I – we’re trying to find my little brother.”

The stranger finished; only a greasy, chewed stick remained. Not even bones were left.  He threw the stick into the fire where it sizzled before succumbing to the fiery touch.

“A laudable, if sad task. May you find him soon and well. I myself don’t have a kin, thus I can’t relate to your anguish. What I can relate to, however, is our uniqueness. I’ve been travelling for many a year, but never have I seen someone such as you.”

“That’s probably because I am not from around here.”

He shot me an amused look.

“And by around here I mean I’m from a different… planet or dimension. I don’t know. Just… not from this world.”

“An outlander? Now I’ve seen everything,” he chuckled with silent joy.

“What? Do you know more humans?”

“If by ‘humans’ you mean members of your species, then no. But I’ve heard of creatures claiming to be from different worlds. So far you seem to support your claim with your, how shall I put it, ‘anotherness’. Truly a delight to see such a rare occasion with my very own eyes.”

“That’s great I guess,” I mumbled and went on to eating my own dinner.

Our guest leaned forward into the flames to look at me more closely. He didn’t seem perturbed by the heat the giant campfire gave off and would’ve normally melted the face of anyone normal this close to itself.

“Tell me, outlander, how did you come to this world?” There was a twinkle in his eye that shone more brightly than the mirrored image of our campfire.

I chewed for a few seconds before answering. With a slight hesitation, I recalled the beginning of this whole journey.

“I was sleeping when I woke up to some noise. There were these huge bangs which threw me to my feet. My brother, who slept with me in the same room that night, was gone. The lights didn’t work, either, but I had a flashlight. That’s like a lantern, I guess. So, I immediately went downstairs and checked every room. Now that I remember, there was this distinctive coldness to the bathroom area, but thought nothing of it at the time.” I took another bite, trying to fight the rising dread.

The half-dragon, half-dog listened intensely, and when seeing that I wouldn’t continue until I ate some more, inquired, “The cold can be explained by a teleportation spell. It always creates patches of cold in the vicinity of the spell’s location and destination.”

Nodding and having finished, my mind continued to conjure the most unforgettable, strangest, and horrible few minutes of my life.

“Then I arrived at the living room, which was filled with this thick, semi-solid, purple, almost pink cloud of… something. Can’t really describe it. A hand reached out of this mist, unmistakably my brother’s, so I tried to go after him, but it was like trying to move while fully submerged in water. Suddenly however it was over and I found my brother in the middle of the room. We tried to get out but where once a hallway leading to different rooms was, now was nothing but a vast expanse of purple vortex. The room started falling apart, piece by piece falling into that damned void. In the end, my brother fell through a crack in the floor straight into the vortex abyss.”

The words dried up upon my tongue.

“I was too shocked, acted too late. I couldn’t save him as he fell and wailed my name.”

I felt a wing tenderly wrap around me as I hung my head low, trying to hide the bitter tears gathering in my eyes.

Blissful silence fell upon our camp like a blanket cloaking my sorrow, and with it some sense of finality.

“T-there’s more,” I hiccuped before the stranger or Paul could say a word, and I raised my head to look into the flames. “Once my brother was swallowed by the vortex, some invisible force started pushing me back to the door leading out of the room, where I could see the image of our undisturbed house. It didn’t want me.”

I could see him shift behind the flames.

“But I fought, and in the end it flinched me high up into the sky, then I blacked out.”

The creature’s voice rumbled with thought, “Your brother was targeted? Not a mistake in the world then, but a teleportation spell surely. If you landed in this world, then your brother must be here too, and I would bet my two horns that he landed wherever the spell originated.”

“That doesn’t really help us much, though.”

He huffed. “It might not, but your best bet would still be to venture to the pony lands. There are, indeed, great magicians throughout entire spectrum of sapient species dotting the entire world – even though many ponies would argue that unicorns are the only ones capable of magic – some of the greatest spellcasters still come from the pony lands.”

“We’re already going to Vanground though,” Paul, silent for almost the entire conversation, suddenly spoke up.

“Indeed,” I continued, “We found a merchant who sold us a picture that had a drawn portrait of an unmistakably human boy. She got it in the capital city, Vanground.

The wanderer nodded. “That’s as good a lead as any. But if you do decide to go to pony lands, beware their hostility. They distrust all that is not like them.” He suddenly got up. I was compelled by his height to stand up, but my legs were suddenly like lead. Looking at Paul he seemed to have the same problem.

“Thank you for your hospitality, travellers, but it is my time to depart as I travel strictly at night.”

“W-what’s happening,” Paul voiced my thoughts precisely. The creature looked me straight in the eyes.

“Lay your burdens down.”

All strength left me, and I couldn’t help but fall backward onto the soft ground. Though out of my sight now, his voice still ringed through the dead of night.

“If you find yourself alone and surrounded by enemies, human, travel west to the forgotten desert of Imeoth; there you will be among friends. But rest now your troubled mind, outlander, a long road lies ahead of you I’d wager. Both of you.”

“Who are you,” I managed to whisper before even that was too much of a task. In the end, even my eyes closed because keeping them open was too much effort.

“They call us collectors. Inevitably, you’ll hear more of us soon enough.”

I woke up and it didn’t hurt. No strange tears to accompany the forgotten dreams streamed down my face. For one morning, I was free.

Finally a night where I didn’t have to share in your misery.

“What happened?”

I opened my eyes and sat up. Even though the ground served as my bed, my back and head didn’t hurt. Somehow, I was also covered by my blanket. The cracking of a campfire still going strong – even though it was morning and Paul slept beside me – interrupted my thoughts. How was that possible? The fire should’ve gone out a while ago.

He used a mind trick and some magic to put you and Paul to sleep, then he watched over you deep into the night.

Wait, didn’t you say you’d protect me from mind attacks?

Well, yeah. But he was only trying to help.

You couldn’t have known that!

I could, actually. I speculated who he was halfway through your conversation. Collectors are the opposite of what you might expect of them.

Why didn’t you say anything, then?

You might not realize, but you have these quirks that make it apparent you’re listening to someone or something. I didn’t want to alert him to my presence. Bad things could’ve have happened if I did.

Still…

Relax, I would’ve woken you up if he was going to hurt you.

Fine.

Paul was still sound asleep beside me. He was covered under a blanket, too. I immediately threw mine aside and went on to check our equipment. Paul’s backpack seemed to be intact except for the blankets, his weapon was alright. The only thing missing was the second rabbit intended for me.

Strangely, I wasn’t even hungry.

My gryphon friend began to stir before frantically throwing his blanket aside in panic. After seeing me and the lack of any danger, he calmed down somewhat.

“What happened?” He squawked.

I explained what I knew.

“Collectors? Never heard of them.”

You lived in a backwards village in the middle of nowhere, you wouldn’t know ponies from zebras!

Shh, only I can hear you and it’s annoying. Also, you seem to know something about these collectors. Might initiating me into that secret knowledge?

No need to be prudent about it. Simply put, they’re a not-so-secret secret society akin to bounty hunters, except they don’t hunt to kill, they hunt to protect. Their members consist mostly of outcasts and hybrids who travel the world in search of unique and endangered species, like hybrids, since everyone hates hybrids. Anyway, they try to preserve these creatures in their haven far to the west. That’s the legend, anyway. As with many such ‘secret’ societies, many have heard of them, but most don’t believe they exist.

I relayed the information to Paul.

“Huh, they don’t sound so bad.”

They can be if you interfere in their cause. Most fanatics are that way.

We didn’t waste more time with questions. It was late into the morning, and the sooner we hit the road the farther we would get. With that in mind, the fire was soon extinguished, the pack was packed, and soon enough the road crunched beneath our feet again.

The traffic got gradually worse as we neared the port city which lay somewhere between the mountains and the see. But nothing could’ve prepared me as Paul and I climbed a small hill to get a slight view over the land.

The city took my breath away. Sprawling from the beaches to the mountains themselves, it looked like a dark blotch of ink upon the land. There were spirals, massive buildings, districts that looked like nothing else but roofs upon roofs; all of that bordered by lavish looking mansions and from the outside by farms.

According to the map, we were still probably half a day of walking away.

“The city of a thousand ports indeed.” I recalled what the collector had said. It made sense now. Ships of all sizes and types swarmed the coastline, but through them I couldn’t even see the piers.

Oh, also forgot to mention the huge-ass wall surrounding the entire city and even going some ways into the sea where the two walls ended in massive towers.

It was already getting dark, no point in continuing into the extensive farmland if we could just camp in the forest we just emerged from a few minutes ago. So we ventured about fifteen minutes into its depths before settling down.

The next morning and half of afternoon were spent walking a wide beat road leading to the city gates through the farmlands. The traffic suddenly spiked when we arrived at a junction where another road leading south connected to ours. Bodies of beings of all sizes and shapes shuffled back and forth, some trailing carts or carriages behind them. Naturally, we assimilated into the strange crowd.

In the later afternoon we arrived at a massive stone gate with a pair of iron grates pulled up high. There the whole line slowed down a little, some travellers being subjected to what seemed like random checkups of their cargo or of themselves.

Even with the packed up space, it was great to be there. After walking in the sun all day, the gate’s shade was a welcome touch on my slightly sun-burned skin.

We were just passing about a dozen guards of different species packed into heavy armor, when one of them grabbed me and pulled me aside from the traffic. Paul, noticing that, quickly trailed behind me.

“Halt!” A definitely masculine voice yelled into my face from beneath the massive armor. Couldn’t tell what it was, but it seemed to be some kind of quadrupled that was slightly higher than other quadrupeds around.

“I’ve never seen your like before. Scribe, come here!” He turned around at a unicorn writing some notes about some traveller’s cargo. The unicorn, modestly clothed into nothing but some lightweight looking robes and a pair of backs slung over his back, trotted over to us.

“What’s going on?” Paul asked the guard.

“Just a checkup on your… friend I presume?”

“Did he do something wrong?”

“No, sir. Now please stand aside so the scribe can do his thing.”

At long last, the unicorn graced us with his presence “What is it?”

“Have you seen anyone like this before?”

The unicorn looked at me scrutinizingly, quite unfazed by the fact that I was twice his height.

“No,” he said at last, quickly levitating some papers around, and dipping his quill into a floating inkpot nearby, the scribe continued, “Identify your species, traveller.”

He looked at me expectantly.

Play along. Seems like he just writes down all the species that enter or leave the city.

“Ummm,” I began still somewhat dazed by the whole ordeal. “Human.”

“Could you spell that?”

“H-U-M-A-N. Human.”

After scribbling some more, the unicorn asked, “Any special characteristics?”

“What?”

He rolled his eyes as if he was not getting paid enough for this bullshit. “Do you breathe fire? Are you immortal? Exceptional regeneration? Absolute resistances? Blood-drinker? Natural magician? Et cetera, et cetera.”

Well, I had to think a bit about that. Sadly, there wasn’t really much I could think of.

“Omnivore, no magic, no exceptional regenerations, not immortal. Well, there’s really nothing special. The only thing being hands, I guess.”

I wiggled my fingers at him and rotating the whole hand around. “Really great for grabbing stuff.” A nervous giggle bubbled in my throat.

Another eye-roll, then some more writing.

“Now stand still,” the unicorn commanded as his horn burst into light, which soon appeared as a semi-transparent aura around me.

He’s scanning your body. Shouldn’t be able to find me.

A few seconds later it was gone, his horn still glowed though.

“Is it typical for members of your species to live in a symbiotic relationship with other beings within the same body?”

Yes! “No,” I said at the same time as Dufus yelled out his own reply.

Idiot!

“Grab him,” he said and nonchalantly waved his hoof at me.

“Wait, what?” I managed to ask before I was grabbed by two ninja guards appearing as if out of nowhere.

“And the gryphon too.”

“What?” Paul managed to ask before they apprehended him too.

Don’t struggle, you’ll make it worse.

Then they shoved a bag over my head, and the world was nothing but darkness once again.