No, this story is not dead. So... Why didn't I write sooner?
Two reasons:
-First, the work that prevented me from really leaning into this story that remains secondary.
-Secondly, the lack of motivation to write a story that is not really read. I like writing Arknight, but to avoid demotivating myself on the numbers, which let's be honest have an impact (yes passion is not everything), I would publish in a more disjointed way but much longer chapters to reduce the risks of looking at the reviews or the number of readers.
No, I wouldn't abandon this story, my goal being to never leave a story unfinished. However, I have scaled back my plans and drastically reduced the length of the story to something simpler, so I will be jumping around and reducing the length of the Kazdel civil war.
In the meantime, have a good read and see you at the end.
Chapter 3 : First Step in Purgatory
Adrian was hot, too hot for anything to feel natural. He groaned as he tried to pull his covers over his head.
He felt like crap. His whole body hurt like hell.
Poking at the paper-thin blanket, he frowned at the unfamiliar texture. He didn't remember changing his blanket recently... Simply put... He'd never had a blanket since he'd arrived in this world!
Through the haze that enveloped his brain, Adrian finally realized that something was wrong.
In fact, the last thing he remembered was his fight to the death with the chief and the bandits.
Eyes wide open, the Vulpo gasped in panic as he tried to get his confused brain to work properly and figure out where he was.
"Where... Where am I?" he asked himself as he opened his eyes.
Forcing himself to calm down, he looked around. His bag and weapons lay in the corner of the room just close enough for him to grab them. Surely these were not the same people who had chased him. If they were, they would have locked him up and not let him have his gear.
Adrian took several long breaths but couldn't calm himself. As the tremors mounted throughout his body, he put both hands in front of him and began to recite one of the many prayers he had been fed as a child.
He was not a great believer, it must have been years since he had been to church, but as he felt overwhelmed, he immersed himself in the one thing that gave him a clear sense of familiarity.
"Protect us..." he concluded his prayer, feeling more at peace.
The fear had been stifled in part by the ongoing recital.
Coming to his senses fully, he turned off all superficial thoughts.
There was little chance that he had been captured by the bandits, or at least what looked like it. The best chance would have been if the villagers had rescued him, calmly he checked his surroundings before a voice called out to him.
"Are you awake? We were starting to get worried."
The Vulpo looked to where the voice was coming from, and saw a young man in his twenties, a pair of horns sticking out of his head and carrying a steel staff.
"Where am I? Who are you?" asked Adrian for more information.
"Ha! Yes! I haven't introduced myself!" he said in a cheerful voice. "Wilhem Denricht, the only healer using the Arts in the entire village! Otherwise, for the first part, you're in Fern, a Kazdelite farming village!"
"So Wilhem."
"You can call me Wil." the Sarkaz simply cut in.
"Yes... So Wil... How long have I been out?"
"Five days, almost six, we almost expected you not to wake up.
Adrian's eyes widened.
"Yeah! I mean, you took a big hit in the belly. It took me almost ten hours before I stabilized you!"
The Vulpo touched his wound and winced as he felt it pull.
"Shit... I clearly didn't have the best reaction," he grumbled.
"What you say, but it worked and saved us, so I say nothing." laughed Wilhem, a hint of thanks in his eyes.
Adrian sighed and lay back while grimacing in pain.
"Fuck..."
"Come on." said the Sarkaz calmly as he approached. "Grit your teeth, I need to change the bandages."
After a few minutes, a breath of relief escaped him.
"Thank you... I don't know how I would have done it without your help..."
"Not much!" replied Wilhem as cheerfully as ever. "We wouldn't have made it without your shots either!"
"Let's stay on a neutral point then." sneered the Vulpo.
"Good point, anyway, the elder wants to see you to talk. You think you're in any shape to walk."
The wanderer leaned on the edge of the bed and struggled to his feet.
"We'll see if I can make it to the end. Can I leave my things here?" he added, looking at the bag.
"No problem, no one will come to steal you."
Dragging himself along with difficulty, Adrian reached for his pistol, which he clipped to his belt.
"I'm taking this with me anyway, we can never be too careful."
"Tell me about it! Follow me now!"
As he left the stone building, Adrian could fully see the village he had saved. It was larger than he had originally thought, not enough to qualify as a town, but at least three hundred or four hundred inhabitants, though their numbers had been drastically reduced by the recent attack.
Calmly, he passed between the buildings being repaired. Several houses had been destroyed, burned or broken into, proof if any were needed of the bandits' brutality.
The village chief owned a house near the village square. Upon entering, one would be greeted by a large living room, with a kitchen next door. Everything was surprisingly luxurious compared to what Adrian imagined. There was a wooden table, several chairs, a kind of light system hanging on the walls and some furniture. Even some power tools, indicating to him, as he suspected, that this world was far from being technologically backward.
The sunlight shining through the windows illuminated every corner of the room, so he could see clearly inside even without squinting. Adrian glanced at the girl he'd rescued and the village leader.
His action to save the girl had not gone unnoticed it seemed, and if he could be well seen, it could only be better for his projects. With that in mind, Adrian prepared for his upcoming task.
He needed to let the village leader know of his position as a traveler, and start learning more about this world.
A small village like this was perfect for a basic information retrieval task.
Was he being overly cautious about this? Probably not. Any information was useful, and having literally no background of existence would be hard to explain in a larger town.
The most serious incident that could happen to him was simply alienating a local power, which would prove problematic but not troublesome if he simply fled.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
The chief sat across from Ashton, his daughter behind him.
His skin was quite pale compared to the villagers he had passed so far who were tanned from working in the fields and outdoors. It seemed that the chief and his daughter were more involved in administrative work.
His clothes were rather simple made of a kind of mixture of cotton for the jacket and leather for the pants. The man must have been sixty years old while his daughter was around twenty-five. Both had relatively long brown hair and emerald green eyes.
"So, let's get down to business," Adrian smiled calmly, as much to put them at ease as himself.
"Yes. But before that... thank you very much!"
The leader bowed to the Vulpo, his head so low that it almost touched the table. After that, his daughter also bowed.
"Without your help, we would all be dead now. You have our sincerest thanks!"
Adrian were quite surprised to receive such a thank you, it was rare that someone thanked him, especially for taking up arms. When he thought back to his past life, he had never been congratulated like that before. Never in such a sincere way. In a way, it disgusted him to be congratulated for killing, even for a just cause.
"Don't worry, I did what I thought was right, and if it had gone wrong, I probably wouldn't have stayed any longer," he reasoned.
Seriously... He wasn't a hero and wouldn't shy away from bullshit like that.
The chief smiled slightly himself.
"I understand that, but you saved us from a bad fate, so your ideas are not the most important thing here, but your actions." The chief's face became more serious again. "Let's talk about the important part, the payment, a vagabond never helps for free, so what do you want."
The Vulpo raised an eyebrow and simply shrugged.
"If you say so, I have absolutely no idea where I am so... a payment would be pretty damn useless to me if I don't know where to spend it and especially I am already well off financially. So we could go on information? Like who were the guys who attacked you, why were they here, what country I'm traveling in and a history of the major cities around here with a map. Then to complete it with travel gear."
Slightly vital information for his future survival... For the moment, a big void remained on what to do after his injuries. He clearly did not intend to stay longer in this village. Certainly he was injured, seriously in all likelihood, but not enough to stop him. Given the money he had amassed from the city, he could certainly settle down properly to think about it if he reached a nomadic city.
Adrian let go after listing what he had to do.
"So... what happens now?"
Adrian was what one would commonly call normal. Nothing special about his life, his upbringing or even what he stood for, a normal person like there were millions in the world.
"So, by all the gods, why do I find myself in a fucking situation like this?!"
The concept of civil war was not new to him, he watched the news and had seen images of it before.
But to find himself in a country torn apart by the conflict for power?
That was new! Kazdel was obviously one of the worst places on Terra to land today.
He walked around the village, watching the inhabitants work from right to left. Finally, he found a corner slightly out of the way, near the room that had been given to him. His mind was in turmoil. Instinctively, he forced himself to smile so as not to show his weak side.
With exhaustion, he lowered his eyes and unconsciously rubbed his wound. Everything was going too fast, the heroism that had caused him so much damage was too much. He didn't regret it strictly speaking, but he wouldn't do it again soon.
The Vulpo opened the map the chief had given him, examining the surroundings. This region was still relatively untouched by fighting, but it was getting dangerously close. So he did not intend to linger there, the best thing would be to join the nomadic city of Artesias to the southwest of his position.
The chief had told him that by joining the road, he would have a chance to be caught by a caravan. Six days was the time Adrian had planned to stay. Despite the man's requests, he had no interest in hanging around any longer.
The bandits would be back soon, probably as soon as their "sergeant" had recovered. At that moment, he wanted to be far, far away so as not to suffer the wrath of an angry criminal.
He had warned the chief, he would do what he wanted, but he would not take any risk. His life before the others, a heroism of regrettable situation, nothing more, nothing less.
A voice called out to him from the side as he carefully studied his route.
"You! It's you! The guy with the gun!"
Adrian looked up to see a young man approaching. Unlike Wilhem, who was two or three years older than his current body, the one walking toward him appeared to be his age. He might as well assume his own age... He would have to find out in the future.
"Until proven otherwise, yes." he replied wryly.
The boy quickly approached the Vulpo, instinctively making him take on a fighting instinct.
"Thank you!" the boy instantly replied, lowering his head 90 degrees and saluting an Adrian unable to understand what was going on.
"What do you mean? Is this for the fight?"
"Yes! You saved my life back there! When you shot one of the bandits!
"Ha!" understood Adrian. "That. I wasn't doing it for you, but I wouldn't say no to a thank you as well.
"Yeah! But it doesn't change the fact that I owe you, my life! So! Thank you!"
"And! Vitro! Come and help me!" shouted a woman in the distance.
The Zalak left quickly, giving a last thank you to Adrian.
The Vulpo laughed a little, the attitude of the young boy was amusing to his adult mind. The innocence almost reminded him of his younger brother. How was he doing?
It had been three weeks, almost a month since his death. The news must have reached them. So... how did they react? Sure, he wasn't very close to his family, but they had raised him. The loss of a brother, of a son, must surely have affected them.
He felt a pang of sadness as he remembered it all. It was better to forget and not think about it. Vulpo pulled a smile from his lips and stifled his thoughts for later. After all, there were better things to do than argue about something that couldn't be changed.
Five days Adrian was in this village, a kind of routine had been made for him. Getting up, checking his wounds with Wilhem, repairing, and maintaining his equipment before reading his weapons manual and training physically.
The last part was new, to say the least, but not necessarily unpleasant. When you've lived your whole life as a lazy bum, it's hard to find the motivation to do any physical activity. But when said workout is necessary for one's own survival, things seem more attractive.
What he didn't expect was that some people would join him. At the beginning, only a few people watched him take his rifle and practice the load and reload in a fake way, little by little, others came.
For the most part, they were young men and women who had fought and looked at him with respect. Then, he had made the mistake of proposing to one of them with a firearm.
"Do you want to train?"
The face of the young woman to whom he had said this lit up, as if her idol had just signed her autograph. The fox had no idea of the impact he had made in the hearts of the villagers and the will he had just created in them.
Adrian took a long breath and put down his own rifle, pointing it at the target. He held his breath as he aimed. As he did every time he held the gun in his hands, he felt the heat leave his hands and slide down the stock, reaching inside the chamber.
He pressed down and felt the energy leave the barrel of the gun and go, giving him an idea of where the bullet would hit. The arts were strange to him, it seemed that he possessed a certain quality, but nothing supernatural in Wilhem's words.
Enough to use a Originium weapon properly and produce interesting effects with the wind, which he had to admit was rather useful. As he removed his eye from the aiming organ, he took a slight breath before turning to the four behind him.
"So, as you just saw, I blocked my breathing for the duration of the shot. Why do you think that was?"
fifteen-year-old teaching young adults how to use firearms... He had become a shooting instructor when he only partially mastered it himself. But most of all, they didn't know how to use their guns... Even Adrian, who had only been practicing for literally a month, had learned more than them! And he was a fucking civilian before!
Of course, he had already practiced with his father, but still... Well... Anyway, he needed something to keep him busy. He had planned to extend his stay in the village by two or three days in view of his wounds which were healing only slowly, despite Wilhem's help.
"To avoid moving during the shooting!" said Vitros in response to his question.
The young man of his age surprisingly had a gun.
"Good answer. Now that you've seen how to do it, take a stand."
"No." said Adrian as he approached the young woman named Kial and spread her feet. "We need a better lean where you'll go backwards."
The firearm carried by the Pero he had called out resembled in many ways a sort of French Lebel rifle from World War I, though with more punch and a most useful semi-automatic mode.
From what it seemed to him, the use of firearms was rare on Terra, it seemed, from what he had been told, to be a particularity of Laterano and had been enormously imported in the region since the beginning of the civil war and the passage of several contingents ''volunteers'' Laterans.
"Even the foreign powers put themselves there..." thought the Vulpo while moving back and watching the four to train.
He had to note that finding ammunition for his own weapon could be difficult. And above all...
Adrian remembered the end of the conversation with the village leader.
"Where could I find someone to register me?"
"In Hallwick." the old man indicated on his map. "A friend of mine will help you, he is a relatively efficient forger. Since you have the money, he can get you a passport and an identity card.
"I see... And his name?"
Adrian sighed as he continued to help the village youth. At least he had a lead and wouldn't have to worry too much about fitting in...
"Vitros." he called out to the boy. "Remember to put the safety back on when you point your gun down. Same to you Alexa."
The information he was giving them was basic and simple, but much more than they seemed to master. Adrian was not an ace with a gun, but he was good enough to have won a few competitions in his youth.
The memories came flooding back. Him with his father at a shooting range, teaching him everything he needed to know. To think he stopped going to the range after he started working. It was probably one of the first cracks in the relationship with his father.
He stifled the wandering thoughts as he approached Grief who was having trouble with his gun.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"The firing pin is jammed," the young man grunted, forcing the grip.
"Adrian breathed as he grabbed the weapon and checked what was going on.
"Nothing too problematic. You just didn't maintain the barrel, the Originium residue blocked after the shot."
"H-How's that?" questioned the Liberi less aggressively.
The Vulpo grabbed his bag and handed him the maintenance book that he had already gone through.
"Read this and clean your weapon. Everything should work again afterwards."
He looked at the clock and clapped his hands a few times for attention.
"Good. Today's session is over, do a maintenance of your weapons and we'll meet again tomorrow at the same time."
Adrian quickly walked away to his own activities, he had to get ready, the upcoming trip would be long and exhausting.
"I hate wastelands..." muttered Adrian as he closed his coat further.
Why by all the gods did he have to cross such an open area?
He had been walking for days in the direction the village headman had pointed him. The start had been quite peaceful, some advice from Wilhem, some sadness from Vitros and the other people he had trained with, and one or two last tips.
He had to admit that the few days spent with Vitros, Alexa, Grief and Kial were rather pleasant.
But well... He had to continue, he had never planned to stop for long. With luck, maybe they would meet again one day.
Night was slowly beginning to fall on the desert outback. There was probably only an hour of sunlight left before the wasteland was covered by shadows.
The Vulpo looked at his map with slight relief. If all went well, he would arrive late the next day. But what had surprised him most since leaving the village was the little device he had almost forgotten about. The black beeper had started blinking again, giving him the coordinates of where he was going.
"Why? How?" he asked. He didn't know at the moment, but he was interested in staying alive and then thinking about the strange device he was carrying around.
His strategic choices had been quite good during his last days. He had ignored all forms of signals given by the little machine on his belt, had not run into any bandits and had avoided all problems.
Should he stop or should he keep going?
The answer came quickly.
"Better to stop," he thought as he spotted several small rocky hollows throughout the desert.
The stars were shining in the sky and darkness had taken over the desert. Shadows danced and twirled in a crazy waltz under the dancing moonlight.
In the middle of this strange environment, a light was visible in the plain. Barely camouflaged behind the makeshift stone shelter, it was difficult to discern who was standing by the fire. But the strange shadow that seemed to roam behind his back would convince anyone not to approach. Not that the possessor of said shadow would notice it himself.
Adrian grunted.
Checking his weapons was a priority now that he was in a period of relative calm. Although he tried to keep them as protected as possible, sand had crept into the gaps of the barrel during his trip.
"Problematic." grunted Adrian as he peeled away the damaged area.
He pulled from his bag some spare parts. He would certainly need better equipment later but for now, a simple change and maintenance would do the trick to allow him to defend himself.
He had just finished the repairs when a distant sound began to echo through the silent outback. Adrian shuddered and slid his rifle along his eye toward the sound.
He showed no real panic, only a caution brought on by several previous encounters. Better to be fairly neutral if the newcomer meant no harm.
A vehicle was approaching his location. The van stopped about ten meters from his location.
"Good God!" came a cheerful voice. "I didn't think I'd find any travelers in the desert!"
A man had burst out of the front door of the vehicle, wearing a dark full-body combat suit and a long sword at his hip. From his simple attire, Adrian could tell that he was no mere mercenary, the emblem at his heart gave a clear indication.
"What do you want." the fox asked cautiously.
"No need to be so cold!" he threw still smiling. "I just wanted to settle down for the night with a fellow traveler. If it bothers me I can leave! Distrust is common in the desert!"
Adrian frowned looking for a trace of a lie. A little company even if unwanted could not hurt, even if there was distrust, he would rather keep the man in sight than let him go, especially if he was a bandit.
He wouldn't be able to warn his friends and would allow Adrian to have a potential hostage in case of an attack.
"Thank you! My name is Jacob!"
"Just don't bother me. Don't try anything against me or my equipment. Very bad things could happen to you." he informed all the same.
"Ho! Don't worry, I didn't mean to."
Under Adrian's watchful eye, the man pulled a backpack from the back of his vehicle and opened it grabbing something to eat. There was complete silence as the first traveler continued his thorough check of his rifle.
"So! What are you doing in the desert? It's not common to come across travelers out here in these times.
"Nothing of much interest." replied the fox as he popped the trigger on his pistol. "I'm heading for Hallwick," he said in a neutral voice.
The man whose race he still did not know examined him up and down before smiling with amusement.
"Hm! Considering your equipment, you're certainly not going as a refugee," he asked with interest.
Adrian shrugged.
"My reasons are my own. I certainly wouldn't talk to a stranger I met in the desert about my plans," he remarked in a semi-amused tone.
"Not false... In any case, you might have difficulties to enter. The city has been receiving a flood of refugees since the fighting reached this province. The surveillance has never been so high!"
"I'll see then." he said indifferently. "And you? What are you doing in the desert? It's clearly not an everyday occurrence to run into people this late."
"Nothing very interesting either... A delivery to another city. My employer wanted me to leave as soon as possible," the man announced cautiously.
"A private group?" he pointed to the truck logo.
"Yes and no, I am a mercenary in the service of the governor. A bit like you I would say, just more official and better placed."
"Hmm... I'm not really a mercenary."
"Say, there's still a trace of blood on your pants."
Adrian looked down, noticing that his lower leg was still covered in the red liquid.
"Shit..." muttered the Vulpo. "He doesn't want to go..."
«"I still haven't asked you your name!"
"Adrian." he replied. "And I'll say it again, I'm just a simple traveler who's fallen into bad things.
"Really? I can't say that's entirely untrue given your age, but with the civil war, child soldiers are not uncommon..." He read a slight sadness behind the man's eyes. "What happened to you?"
He seemed to have a history with this. It reinforced Adrian's confidence that he had made the right choice to take him in. If he was a real mercenary in the service of the governor, he could help him, so better to talk.
"The usual." he lied. "The fighting reached home, I fled, traveled, survived and then reached a village where I helped kill some bandits before heading back to the road..."
That was a half lie, he just hadn't really run away from home but had been forced to. The sadness as he thought back to his home and family seemed to convince Jacob.
"What village are you talking about?"
"Freckwir a few days west of here... I left after training some of them a bit. They told me that Hallwick should be safe enough."
"It is if you're a refugee or a citizen... Do you have an ID card? Adrian grinned. "I thought so..."
Adrian shook his head.
"No big problems, a friend pointed me to someone to help me, so everything should be fine."
A soothing silence fell again between the two.
"I don't know about you, but I'm going to get some rest. Better be in shape for a trip to the desert."
"Likewise, I've still got some driving to do before I reach Kazdel," the man replied as he walked to his truck. "I'm going to activate my safeties so avoid triggering them by getting too close to my vehicle!" he said with an amused smile.
Adrian shrugged with a mocking half-smile.
"I'd advise the same thing; a shotgun blast happens quickly."
Under the night, a truck and two travelers remained motionless around the remains of an extinguished campfire.
It was a strange and fortuitous encounter as it sometimes happened in the Kazdelite desert. It was strangely instructive on the state of Kazdel and the challenges it still had to face to survive.
Other, less pleasant encounters were also taking place.
"Damn it." muttered Adrian frantically as he took cover behind a rock. "I hate everything about this damn world."
Forcing himself not to panic, breathing quickly and keeping the slight amusement on his lips, the wanderer took a quick glance at the other side of his shelter.
"Blam!"
"Guys! Watch out!" roared a voice before another deafening noise followed.
By all odds, he had fallen in the middle of a melee between a detachment of imperial soldiers and a Babel mercenary force. The two groups were in ranger and violent combat, neither group seemed to be getting the upper hand. Taking advantage of the confusion caused by this, and his relative distance, he sprinted to an elevated corner to get an overview.
The forces in presence were the same number.
On one side, a bunch of experienced and trained soldiers fighting for a cause and wishing to apply it, obviously at all costs. On the other, mercenaries, probably with families, fighting for money and to live a little more decently in the troubled times of Kazdel. With them, an officer from the rival organization, Babel, surely their leader, telling them what to do and guiding them in the fight.
Adrian hesitated to intervene. But why should he?
No one had anything to offer, and everyone wanted something badly. Who's right? A voice was telling him to deliberate with his rifle to give the advantage of surprise to one of the two groups, to slip through that gap and join one or the other side.
This would be easy, and his help would certainly be well seen and would give him a group to belong to. This little voice was telling him that staying alone would be difficult, that he was too weak. He had to make a choice and face the consequences.
"No," the traveler simply said.
He turned on his heels and walked away quickly, leaving them there, without help or answer.
As he walked away, he heard the commotion behind him, the return of the battle, screams, blows, deaths...
"Not my fight." he mumbled to convince himself that he had made the right decision. "Not my problem, I have enough on my own shoulders."
He had intervened once in the village and had probably postponed the inevitable for a few weeks or even months, giving the inhabitants a chance to hold out a little longer. An action, which in the end had not obliged him to do anything and had not given him any other responsibilities and had brought him the equivalent of what he had risked. Heroic? Yes. In accordance with his opinions and his vision of the world? Certainly. Stupid? Equally so. Giving him any duty? No.
Here?
This was not his role, nothing concerned him and his will to survive was stronger than throwing himself stupidly into death without knowing why he was fighting.
His mind was screaming at him to act, to do the right thing, to support those who seemed to be fighting against a tyranny.
But from what little Adrian had seen of this world, it was not right and not good, simply an intense shade of gray where he had to make the best of every situation. He knew nothing about Babel, and wanted to know nothing about it. Maybe they were better, maybe not, but that wasn't his problem.
"I've had enough of this. Leave me."
Just after he had passed out of range and resumed his journey, he realized that the little device was rebooting.
"The city isn't too far away anymore." he breathed in relief, chasing away thoughts of the ongoing battle a mile away from him.
His little smile that he had instinctively put on his face was bitter, sad, revolted, but also angry. A simple traveler was disgusted with himself and the world he was traveling. But in the meantime, he was alive and intact, and he intended to stay that way.
"The road to Hallwick is still long," he thought as he looked at the pager.
Beautiful." simply blurted out Adrian from a distance as he admired the moving form.
There were no other words that could come to his mind as he approached the nomadic city. For an engineer like himself, he could understand the complexity of running a machine, maintaining it and repairing it. So what stood there was a mechanical marvel unlike anything on Earth.
How could it hold up in the air? Did the wheels support the weight properly and not sink into the ground?
Impossible was the word that came to mind. Without the Originium, he simply did not think this city could exist. Even what protruded behind the thick steel walls covering the edges of the platform seemed perfect to him.
Large glass towers were visible from his slightly overhead position. They were similar to the old photos he had seen of New York City.
It was... Crazy. For lack of a better word!
When he had first seen it, he had thought his mind had gone crazy. But no, the nomadic city was just a perfect example of the engineering of this different world.
Now, besides his moment of euphoria, came the important and slightly vital question, how to get on.
Fortunately for him, the huge steel monster was at a standstill. Maybe for a short time, but probably enough to understand what he had to do.
The fighting was getting closer to the area, and to the city, and his encounters with the imperial troops several kilometers to the south told him that the situation was relatively risky.
From what he had heard, the fighters on both sides wanted to avoid hitting Hallwick, the name of the city in front of him, too hard.
Obviously, it was an important industrial center and under the authority of a relatively upright and honest governor, but above all an experienced military man.
Not that he was really interested. Babel, Imperial? As long as he stayed alive and well, he was fine with anything. And even if Babel's forces were approaching, he hoped for the best.
"Everything seems to separate into two categories," he noticed beyond the walls.
The northernmost part seemed to be a kind of slum connected by three different platforms, while the rest was more modern, made up of buildings and high, bright housing on the rest of the rolling plates. A clear separation was made by a thick wall between each area.
"Hard to get through," Adrian grunted.
The chances of not being interrogated were zero by going through the basic entrance. What's more, without an ID card or anything that gave him credibility and identity, he was sure to end up in jail, with his weapons confiscated and his money stolen.
The walls were high and probably guarded, but more importantly, once inside, he would need a place to hide. Adrian wasn't stupid, he knew that going legal was impossible in his situation.
His chances were to go back inside, find the forger the village chief had told him about and then think about what to do next. His money would serve him for a few months at least.
He finally spotted a sort of opening along the entire length of the wall to the east of his position. For about ten kilometers, there was a transport platform. Grabbing his binoculars, he examined the place thoroughly, and after a few minutes had a thought.
"Interesting. It seems I have my breach. Not much defense to intercept me, and few guards visible."
All in all, there were about ten surveillance towers spread out along the length of the city and a few drone patrols. The place was clearly not guarded enough for an opening to the outside world in a potential war situation.
Adrian's theory was that the towers would spot incoming ships as the only way to access the platform. Logical... Considering that climbing up seemed to be an arduous task and close to suicide.
But without many other choices...
Suddenly, he missed the lack of responsibility of the engineer's life. Here he was alone. No particular help, an unclear goal and no information on what to do.
He looked at the sun, which was already three quarters of the way down.
"Anyway... I don't really have any other choice anymore..."
The night was full on Hallwick. Far from the main streets illuminated by the blazing lights of the city lights, the alleys and the port were deserted. Not a sound to disturb the restful silence of the moon.
Only the rare discussions of the guards patrolling at regular intervals and the repeated chirping of the gunner on his tower broke the dead monotony of the place. The wide-open skyline of the flight platforms showed the silent desert below.
But underneath this facade of calm, a Vulpo was trying his luck.
"Come on... One more effort!"
There were only a hundred more meters to climb before he reached the platform. If he had calculated correctly, they should land right in front of a transport crate suitable for hiding him.
The roar of one of the surveillance drones echoed through the air.
"Again!"
Forcing on his arms, he clung to the wall with all his might and laid his entire traveling cloak on his back, blending in with the wall. He had done well to cover it with sand and dirt.
The drone passed quickly, not paying him any particular attention. It was the fourth one that passed in this way. A feat that he had not yet been spotted.
Pulling on his aching arms, he continued his climb, putting back his security by hanging a rope on one of the recesses of the wall. He didn't care if anyone spotted the climb and the long rope hanging down the entire length. Once he was gone, everything would be fine, but until then...
Planting one of the stakes in a fragile area of the wall, he attached one of his carabiners. He had never been good at climbing and roping, but he thanked all the gods for the sports teachers who had forced him to climb the vertical rope to the top.
He was getting more and more tired, if he didn't succeed soon he would fall. His hand laughed on a hold and he let go.
"He let go and fell several meters down before being pulled back against the wall by his carabiners.
It was the third time. He calmed his breathing, letting himself hang down the wall to rest his arms.
"Come on... One more effort," he encouraged himself.
Feeling his arms tense, his body creak for mercy, he continued. Finally, he put his hand on the edge of the platform and climbed into Hallwick.
"Perfect. Fuck... Ten more minutes and I'd drop."
His body was clearly well trained, better than the last one and he thanked the little Vulpo who had left him. Regaining his concentration, he leaned against the box.
The quiet of the place was undoubtedly a defect for an infiltration. As was the long, empty alleyway that connected the free part of the port to the storage areas. Fortunately, he could go around to the left.
Quietly, slipping between the shadows as much as he could, he arrived at the loading area of the docks. Only the steady clatter of some of the streetlights illuminated the cold concrete.
Just as he was about to get out a pair of voices were heard. The clandestine one made a step backwards putting itself in the shade of one of the boxes of transport. His back pressed against the cold steel, he slowed his breathing and lowered his hand to his gun.
"Did you see the qualifying match?"
"Yeah! I told you we'd win 3-1!"
"Damn... I should have listened to you and bet!"
"Yep!"
Two guards passed by, talking. The men stopped nearby and looked around. Adrian tightened his grip on the weapon and gritted his teeth in panic.
"Get out of the way," he muttered. "There's nothing there.
"Shit. I feel like we're missing something..." the first one said.
"Don't you say that every time?"
"Yes, but I don't know. I have a bad feeling about this..."
"God. I don't know what's going on with you, but ever since your wife left you've been on edge."
"Shut the fuck up! I'm sure there's someone out there!
"Yeah... Yeah... That's it... If you want to look, stay here, I'm not dying of boredom waiting for you in your delirium. There's a coffee and a game waiting for me at the barracks."
"Grrr..."
The guard who seemed to be a Lupo followed his colleague Ursus.
The traveler released his grip letting the two men move away. Stealth was clearly not his strong point, not that he really had a strong point... If perhaps the shooting, and still.
He was very lucky that one of the two was in such a hurry to leave. Not that he felt embarrassed since he was the one taking advantage of it.
There were a multitude of warehouses. Some of them were in perfect condition, letting you know that they had been used recently, while others were close to ruin.
That evening, luck was with him because he spotted an old abandoned repair center with a for sale sign in capital letters. It was towards the back parts of the port from all the other storage places and was close to the exit of the docks. A perfect place to stay, with little traffic at night and probably buyers during the day and nothing else.
He grabbed his knife and struck heavily on the rusty padlock blocking the entrance opening the locked door. The place had clearly been left untouched for several years. Not much chance of anyone getting in there in the next few days if he remained discreet.
The perfect hiding place the time to get the necessary information and meet the famous Cautus that the village chief had advised him.
The slamming of the open door was followed again by the pair of voices.
"I swear it sounded like steel!" shouted the first.
In panic, Adrian grabbed the padlock from the floor and pulled it inside before closing the door behind him.
The light from the two guards' flashlights shone through the windows as the wanderer stood perfectly still.
"You heard it too! I'm not crazy!"
"No... What the hell... Are you getting unstable? There's nobody here."
"I'm fucking telling you there is!"
The guard approached the door and tried to open it, making the warehouse creak. The light from the lamp swept from left to right. The wolf took a few steps back before his teammate Ursus put a hand on his shoulder.
"Frank... I know it's hard right now but calm your paranoia. You see there's no one there."
"But... But..."
The Ursus picked up his colleague and turned him towards him.
"Look me in the eyes. It's not going well right now, but you mustn't get yourself into this state with every sound. We're going to go back and the barracks and we're going to talk about what's happening to you."
"Yes... You're right... I'm starting to dislocate severely..."
"That's it! That's the spirit."
The Ursus pulled the door away.
For several tens of minutes, the Vulpo remained motionless, making sure no one came back. Finally, he released his breath and moved to the door, grabbing a steel bar and blocking it.
"Shit..." he breathed in relief.
He moved into the warehouse and pulled out a huge sheet that covered the machinery.
"Old unloading factory." he noticed as he observed the industrial grinders. "Probably used to open the contents of arriving vehicles and unload them."
That was enough for now, enough to hide in while he decided what to do next. Her goal had never been to get involved in the civil war, and the meeting between the two groups of loyalist forces on either side had convinced her. Staying in a neutral city like Hallwick was clearly her best option.
Adrian had no illusions, the conflict would reach the city sooner or later, the only advantage was that he would not have to fight, that the city would open its doors once the conflict in favor of one side or the other.
His life for the lives of others, a clearly effective policy. In the end, he was just a simple traveler looking for shelter.
The morning dawned quietly on the flight port. Noises were gradually surrounding the warehouse. On any other day, Adrian would probably have decided to get up with annoyance before leaving for work if it hadn't been for an illegal occupation situation.
Today was a relatively important day. The Vulpo put on his outfit and shoved his weapons under his traveling cloak before pulling on his boots. He had spent much of the rest of the night on watch, cleaning his outfit so that it would look clean and he wouldn't look like a bum.
The best way to go unnoticed in a town as populated as Hallwick was to simply look like everyone else. He checked his bag one last time, the money was there, his equipment and everything he had recovered.
Now came the technical part of his job. Adrian put his ear to the door, listening to the sounds. At least he'd been lucky to find this little door and not have to go out the front like his entrance.
He didn't want to be spotted coming out, the building was supposedly unoccupied.
"Now." he let go as he quickly ajar the door and slipped out the side of the warehouse.
No one had seen him, the workers were too busy unloading to notice a boy coming out the side of the building. Quickly, he moved away, mingling with the active crowd at the transport port. Between the merchants, the civilians who came to do their business and the workers, it was difficult to spot him. The objective was to find him.
The port was an open area on the city, no control, no particular surveillance during the day, except for the two guards on their watchtowers, more busy smoking than watching and the few patrols, more symbolic than useful.
"12 Advir Street" muttered the young fox as he walked quickly through the streets.
As he continued to move through the streets, he once again felt the beeper under his cape vibrate.
"Shit... The fifth time since I got here."
He had no idea why, but the black device had started vibrating at irregular intervals. Standing on the side of the street, he opened it.
Like every time he had done it, he came across the same message asking for a password.
"Password... Password..." he grumbled. "What password?!"
He had closed it again, putting off trying to figure out what he had to do. At first, he had to secure himself by creating an identity.
After several dozen minutes of walking, he had arrived at the entrance of a small bar. It wasn't very big, at most six or seven tables and empty at this time of day despite its opening.
Adrian entered quietly, taking care not to be followed. He suspected that if someone caught him now, his situation would be relatively precarious.
"Hello dear customer! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" a cheerful voice called out from the other side of the counter.
A Cautus with long brown ears was waiting with a marked commercial smile. Instantly, the Vulpo recognized him as Finneas, the one who had been pointed out to him by the village chief. The traveler approached, dropping his bag before sitting down on one of the high chairs.
"I'm from Fern," he said. "Their chief told me you could help me with an ID card..."
"Hmm? Fern?" asked the Cautus. "Do you have any proof of what you're saying?"
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of dirt-stained paper, handing it to the Rabbit, who read it quickly.
"I see... Frank doesn't lose his head! The bastard never forgets a debt... No surprise there. Well..." He motioned for Adrian to step behind the counter. "Follow me, we need to talk."
In a smaller room at the back of the bar, Adrian sat across from Cautus, whose smiling face had become more professional.
"Good, good, good. If Frank sent you, you must need something... 'special', if you know what I mean. But I don't do that to just anyone. Why did he send you?"
The wanderer nodded his head yes before taking a long breath. Anyway, the story had already been plotted, all he had to do was give it away.
"He told me you could make me an ID card and get me into the databases. Let's just say my situation isn't the most enviable in that sense... The civil war, the losses... I think you know what I mean?"
Cautus had a slight bitter laugh with some sympathy in his eyes.
"Yeah, don't worry too much about that, these days it's better to be in here than out there. Stay here, it'll be done in a couple of hours while I contact some people who can get you into the database.
A few hours later, Vulpo emerged from the bar, a certain relief on his face as he twirled a blue laminated card between his fingers.
"At least I'm safe for now," he thought as he examined his new identity.
-Adrian Aldrecht, 15 years old, Vulpo, July 20, 1077, Kazdel
More information was available, but none of it was of interest to the young fox who suddenly felt safer.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he said to the Cautus who had followed him to the entrance.
"Get ready for some hard work," Finneas smiled as he watched him walk away.
A job, certainly as a simple deliveryman and probably dangerous, but a job all the same, a new identity recognized by Hallwick that assured him to stay alive and not be considered a squatter and an idea of what to do next.
Maybe he could finally settle down for a while?
One chapter that I find interesting is about Adrian's arrival in Hallwick and his first settlement. Another chapter of about ten thousand words before he is really confronted with the civil war and the fighting and adaptation really begins.
I don't give any date for the next chapter because of my writing speed lately.
I hope you will enjoy it and see you soon.