The sun hung low, casting a subtle, soft warmth in the otherwise cold mountainous land. A single stead, not too far away from civilization, stood cozily surrounded by a forest of evergreens. The chimney bellowed, giving away the smell of burning coal as well as roasting, well-spiced meat. Margrit sat on her bench in front of her home. She was accompanied by her brown bear, sitting beside her, and a tiny white dog was cupped in her hand, tongue lolling about cheerfully. Two crutches laid next to her on the bench, and her left leg was wrapped in a firm cast from her foot up to her knee.
Though despite what unfortunate events made her wind up with a broken leg, she was smiling. Smiling at a once proud, thick spruce tree, that was now covered in puncture holes and arrows. She averted her gaze, looking back at her friend. Asterix.
He stood motionlessly, arrow drawn far back on his bow. Pure concentration could be read on his face as he calculated his next shot. He was in fact so still, if he weren't breathing and blinking occasionally, he could have been mistaken for a statue. Finally, he let go of the bowstring, and the arrow flew. It zipped past in front of his audience, striking the tree with a loud thwack. Asterix's pose relaxed as he gazed at his work, a smile forming on his face. Margrit let Dogmatix down on the bench, and she began to clap.
"That was your best one so far. Great job," she said.
Asterix turned his head to Margrit. "I'm too slow."
Margrit grinned, shaking her head dismissively. It was true, though. He took a long time to aim, which would be disadvantageous in a combat situation. But when speed wasn't a factor, his precision was like an eagle's. He had a strong affinity for it, but they still needed to work out a lot of kinks.
"All right, then we'll work on that tomorrow." Margrit reached out for one of her crutches, setting it under her armpit and using it as support to raise herself. "Now it's time to eat. You're all out of arrows anyway."
"Okay," he replied, setting the bow on his back. He paced up to the door, opening it for Margrit to walk inside. "After you, M'lady." He made a polite bow. Margrit couldn't help but chuckle.
"Why, thank you," she smiled. Bit by bit, she made her way into the stead. After she and both animals were indoors, Asterix followed, stopping within the doorway only to take a glance back outside. He gazed at the sky, filling itself with deep pink and orange colors. The days were slowly growing shorter and darker, signifying that summer was coming to an end. It did not sit well with him at all. He was still getting used to the cold, and now, it was getting even colder. He felt the difference already. The only benefit he could think of was that he could doze off by the fireplace more, which was turning into a favored pastime. There wasn't much else to do, in these quiet days. And it helped him catch some sleep.
But the cold wasn't even what bothered him the most.
He suddenly heard Margrit's voice call him. "Hey, you coming?"
Asterix did not answer, silently turning back inside. Just as he was about to close the door, he heard the voice of a young man calling him.
"Sir! Sir, wait please!"
"Hm?" Asterix turned to look. A lanky boy came running to him, waving his hand. The kid had a full head of scruffy black hair and was at least two heads taller than him. He kept a leather bag hanging over his shoulder and a bow and quiver on his back. Probably a teenager, but Asterix had trouble judging a norn's age, them being so much taller than himself. The boy slowed down as he approached him, taking a moment to catch his breath.
"Hey, what are you doing out here so late?" Asterix asked.
The young man raised himself after he had a good few breaths of air. Definitely, three heads taller. "Is this Strolfdottir's stead?"
"Yes, you're at the right place," Asterix replied.
Then, the black-haired boy quickly dug into his bag and took out a neatly folded piece of paper, sealed with candlewax. He offered it to him. Asterix gazed at it intently, taking hold of it.
"It's a letter for her," said the boy. Asterix stared at the envelope, surprised. Letters made from lightweight paper, rather than heavy tablets of stone? How clever! People back home could definitely learn a thing or two from Tyria, especially Postaldistrix*.
"Thanks, kid. I'll give it to her." Asterix looked back up and smiled, but that smile quickly faded when he realized the boy was off again. Probably didn't want to be late for supper. His stomach growled. It didn't feel like waiting any longer either.
Asterix turned back to the door, locking it behind him. Margrit sat at the table, eyeing him with the letter in his hand that he examined with the curiosity of a child. She started to giggle, resting her head on her hands. "Never seen a letter before?" she asked.
"Not one like this," he replied offhandedly, still staring at the envelope. He walked past the table and handed it to her.
As he walked toward the kitchen, he discarded the strappings that held his bow and quiver, hanging them on the weapon rack. The kitchen smelled of rich spices as a large slab of meat roasted in the stone oven. Two tall iron pans were each boiling potatoes and root vegetables. He inspected each food carefully, making sure they were all cooked well, before serving them neatly on two plates.
Of course, Bobbo and Dogmatix were not forgotten. As usual, they each got a share of raw meat. It turned out, Bobbo would go crazy for some cooked carrots.
When the last plate was served and he sat down on the opposite end of the table, Margrit had cut open the envelope and was reading her letter. Her eyes were fixated on it, squinting even. She pressed her lips thin, grunting in slight annoyance.
"What's wrong?" Asterix asked as he picked up his fork.
"It's Pluxx, my tattoo ink provider. He's wondering why I haven't picked up my last order." She laid the letter down on the table. The written words that were supposed to represent New Krytan handwriting were nothing but chicken-scratchings to Asterix.
Asterix raised a brow, looking at Margrit. "You buy your ink from an asura?" His voice came out a bit more cynical than he intended. But by now, he could tell someone's racial background just by hearing their names, and he was not fond of asura at all. Margrit looked down at him, noting the sudden unease from the Gaul.
"Relax. He's only a merchant. He sells self-produced ink. It's more colorful than anything else I've ever used."
"Non-toxic, I hope," Asterix remarked darkly while he pricked a piece of red beet with his fork.
Margrit stared at him. "Getting racist, are we?"
He flinched at those words, nearly choking in a mouthful of beet. "Ouch, that's low!" He looked back at her, and she returned him a judgmental glare. As a response, his helm-wings gave away a sudden flush of shame.
"Okay, I get it. Sorry. I just…can't seem to trust them." He nervously scratched the back of his head, looking down at his food.
"Take it easy," Margrit said, her features softening once more. "Not all asura are part of the Inquest. Pluxx can be trusted. Okay, I admit, he can be a little impatient."
"That explains the letter," he mused. The word 'Inquest' though, it gave him chills hearing it again.
"I'll have to write him back. I can't go to Rata Sum with my leg…" Margrit finally took her fork and knife and began to eat.
Asterix lost his will to eat though. He began to poke at his food a little. He felt bad, realizing he had trust issues toward an entire race like that, only because of what a select few of them put him through. The first that came to his mind was that he wanted, no, needed, to overcome it. Preferably as soon as possible… Then, his face suddenly lit up. An idea. "I could go," he spoke up.
Margrit stopped cutting into her steak for a moment, looking up at Asterix, slightly surprised. "What? You just said you don't trust asura."
Asterix shook his head. "Can't. There's a difference. But I want to get over that. Think about it. I get to do a little sightseeing, absorb their culture, and you won't run out of ink."
Margrit blinked. Quickly, a wide grin formed on her face. "Oh, I see. Not a bad idea."
At that moment, Bobbo poked his pudgy head over the table near Asterix, nose wiggling when he eyed the carrots on his plate. Asterix felt the air puffing from Bobbo's nostrils on his arm, and he looked down on a begging face. "No," he said sternly, putting his hand on the bear's head and pushing him away. Bobbo whimpered like a spoiled child.
"You sure you want to go through with this, though?" Margrit questioned. "I can understand you're not comfortable around them after what they – I mean, some of them – did to you." She focused on cutting her steak again. "And to be perfectly honest, I don't like the idea of you going there."
He looked back at Margrit, feeling slightly uneased. Since the incident with her broken leg several weeks ago, the two had developed a much deeper understanding for one another. He knew she tried hard to act less like a worried mother, but he could also understand why she was doubtful of his choice. Still, he had to at least try, for her to be able to continue her work, if not for his own good.
"Don't make me change my mind now…" said Asterix.
Margrit let out a nervous laugh, "Okay, okay. I'll give you Pluxx's address. Just don't take too long out there. And stay away from the city's lower chambers."
Asterix forced out a fake smile. "Noted."
She smiled back. "Now let's eat. Food is getting cold."
The rotating wheel of the asura gate sparked a bright purple magic, allowing Asterix and his white dog to pass through. He still wasn't fond of using asuran gates, but he wasn't afraid of it anymore. It was after all the most efficient and, as claimed by the asura, 'safest' way of travel. The earlier cold of mountain land made way for the more pleasing warmth of Kryta's coastline on a late summer. Being greeted by a fresh sea breeze made him smile and glow with health, and forget about his worries for a moment. The day couldn't possibly start any better. For Lion's Arch now truly lived up to the nickname that Asterix once remembered giving it.
After several weeks of hard work, the city was now officially done rebuilding, transforming it into a fortified bastion. He still remembered how the city looked less than appealing last time he visited. Before, it was a wreckage, no more than the ruined leftovers of a once proud city. Now, it was a testament to the races uniting against one global threat. Lion's Arch welcomed people of all races back into the safety of its walls. Even the city's gatehub, leading to all the other cities of Tyria, had been glorified, turned from a small cliff range into a plaza in which the asura gates were positioned to face one another in a great circle, and in the middle, a garden of various tropical trees.
Adventurous and eager-spirited that he was, Asterix couldn't help but wanting to do a little sightseeing around the new city. It wouldn't take long, he thought to himself. Then he'd go straight to picking up that parcel in Rata Sum and head back to Hoelbrak. "Come on," he said to Dogmatix, and he began to walk, while the little pup trotted happily behind him.
He began the tour by visiting the main market. Immediately, Asterix noticed the nautical theme it sported, designed to attract tourism. Some of the main buildings looked like various sea creatures, including giant seashells, crabs, and there even was a bank resembling an octopus. A clever tactic, that much was clear, but in his opinion, it was a bit ridiculous. Though fondly remembering Edifis'* architectural skills, he had seen much worse. He couldn't stop grinning about it.
The tactic worked, either way. The city was bustling with people and commerce. Despite such a great range of creatures that dwelled here, everybody showed great respect, if not they simply refrained from being trouble makers. Even the less-than-peaceful charr obeyed the house rules, greeting even their once ages-old enemy, the humans, with a certain amount of respect. And they were respectful back. It was actually a pleasant surprise, when an old, rather gnarly looking charr walked past and simply saluted Asterix with a "Hey". Naturally, he politely returned the greeting.
What baffled him the most, though, was the city's new line of defense. Not only were there Lionguard constantly patrolling the city; every so often, he would hear faint humming above him. Looking up, Asterix saw another of those flying galleys, hanging high in the sky like a cloud that overlooked all that happened below. How these ships were even capable of doing what they did was still far beyond his understanding, but he was sure there was highly advanced technology behind it all, and perhaps a touch of magic, as well. Huge cannons dotted the pier and coastline, and an enormous light tower guarded the bay's entrance, ensuring that whoever sailed in was friendly.
It was actually a little scary, to think that they had to make such precautions. But from what he overheard, there were very good reasons for it. The city had been the preferred target of enemies in the past years. And judging from some people's gossiping, one sylvari by the name of Scarlet Briar was the least favorite attacker of all. In fact, she was the reason Lion's Arch ended up the way it looked the first time he visited.
How could one manic sylvari have done all that, and why? Thank the gods it was all in the past now. Whatever the enemy might throw at it now, Lion's Arch was more than prepared to take it on.
Eventually he left the chaotic atmosphere of the inner city, strolling through the streets and finally reaching the bay. The sight of the beach and smell of the sea stirred in him the feeling of nostalgia. He saw two children playing in the shallow sea. Despite their differences, they were laughing and having the time of their lives, splashing water and chasing each other.
Dogmatix started barking, rushing over the sand to them. Surprised, Asterix called out to him. "Dogmatix, wait! Heel!"
But when he saw the children welcoming the little dog with cheering and squealing, he realized what an idiot he was. What harm could it do? Even dogs needed a break every now and then. The white pup first approached what he recognized best. A human girl with pigtails, who squeaked with glee. Then, he inspected the other child, yet another girl, but she was a charr. He seemed to show just as much interest to her, his tail wagging like a fan.
"Aww! He's so cute and tiny!" the charr girl squealed, petting Dogmatix on the head with her hand. The pup leaned forward into the paw, enjoying the attention thoroughly.
"No silly, that's a girl! Boy dogs are much bigger!" the human girl giggled.
"What!? Where did you get that from?" the charr asked suspiciously.
Asterix watched from a distance, smiling warmheartedly. There was so much innocence in these children. Despite their differences, they did not mind their racial history. They were simply friends. He sat down in the sand, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the fresh sea air, while he watched the scene play out.
"He's a boy!" the charr argued, though laughingly.
The human girl giggled back. "Noo! She's a girl. She even has a girly bark!"
Dogmatix yipped in excitement, oblivious of what was really going on. He only cared about the attention he was receiving. Finally, an elderly asuran lady walked into the beach, approaching the arguing children.
"There you are, you little rascals of mine," she said in a sweet motherly tone. She eyed the little white pup. "And who is this then?"
"Brokka, Brokka, look!" The human girl picked up Dogmatix. "She came right to us! Can we keep her? Please?"
"Him," the other girl corrected again, giggling.
Brokka looked at the little dog in the human girl's arms, tongue flopping out and tail wagging in excitement. She then looked back at Asterix, who smiled and waved back casually. "Oh, he's very cute, indeed." She smiled. "But I think he belongs to that man over there. We already have a dog, anyway."
"Aww?" both girls resounded in a synchronized chime.
"Now now, girls." The asura lifted a wagging finger. "Be nice and put the little dog down. Come along now, I've made lunch."
And with that, the two lit up and let the little animal down. As they left, Dogmatix trotted over the sand to return to Asterix, while he watched the family make their leave. He was actually quite amazed by the fact an asura fostered, maybe even adopted, two children of an entirely different race each. But at the same time, he found it very admirable. And they could get along so well, too. Like a real family did.
He could even picture himself living here, in Lion's Arch, if things weren't going to go back to the way it used to. He didn't like thinking about it, but at this point, it was a good idea to look for places to settle. He began to fumble his mustache thoughtfully.
"Margrit is right. Asura aren't all bad. We just came across the wrong people…" He then looked down at Dogmatix. "Didn't we, buddy?"
The pup sat down and looked back at Asterix, tilting his head a little and letting out a confused whine.
"Too bad she couldn't come. I bet she would have wanted to see the new city." Asterix smiled lightly, lifting a hand to pet the dog on his head. "Oh well. We'll just visit another time when she can walk on her own again."
He then looked up. Clouds, white as snow, dotted a deep blue sky. A large sun hung high, providing him a warmth that he'd been missing for a while. It was still hard for him to comprehend that his own home was out there somewhere. Where or how far away, he didn't even want to know. He was in fact afraid to find out.
He eventually took a deep breath.
"Alright, enough dawdling around. Let's go." He stood up, patting the sand from his breeches. They began the walk down the same road, back to the gate hub. As they entered the hub once more, he took out his coin pouch and began digging into it, fishing out the money he had been provided with for gate entry. Thankfully, after the city pulled itself back together, more strict gate travel laws were implemented. Not only were the prices frozen, they were fair even for those who visited for only a short time. Fifty silver per adult, plus some minor costs for the amount of luggage they carried – pets and children under supervision could use the gate network for free. Considering he only carried his weapons for safety's sake, Asterix wasn't required to pay much more than that. The changes actually left him with much more money than Margrit initially thought he would be needing for the trip.
Asterix glanced about, looking for which gate were to lead to Rata Sum. The gates all looked the same, and reading road signs was out of the question still. Fortunately, each gate had guards standing before them, and those gate guards were always the race of where their gate led to. It was a tradition that helped people orient a bit easier. Not every Tyrian could read, after all. His eyes finally settled on the gate guarded by two asura in heavy plate armor. One of their well-known creations, the autonomous, headless golem, stood beside them, dwarfing them both with its length and girth.
"Good day sir," one of the guards spoke when his big eyes settled on the human and his dog, approaching the gate. "Before we can allow you to use this gate's services, we need to inspect your wares and weaponry, please. It's imperative for keeping our city safe."
Asterix stopped before the two guards and groaned slightly under his breath. "Fair enough." He drew his weapons one by one from their containers, handing them over without protest. First, his bow and quiver. The revolver and its ammunition was next. When he finally reached for his sword, he started hesitating. The guards eyed him suspiciously. A low, threatening mechanical buzz came from the golem as its single crystalline eye settled on the Gaul.
"Is there a problem, sir?" one of the guards questioned.
Asterix looked back at the golem. "No, not a problem," he answered. "Just be careful with this one," he added as an afterthought. He then wrapped his hand around the sword's grip, and he felt the scabbard heat up. Slowly and gently, he pulled the burning blade out. The guards each eyed the sword.
"Interesting," one of the two asura mused. He then turned to the other. "We should scan this one."
Asterix furrowed his brow. Asura and their lovely terms… "Scan it?" he asked.
"Don't worry sir, it'll only take a minute. Then you can have your weapons back."
Sighing, the warrior put the blade back and untied his scabbard to hand it to them. He couldn't think of any other ways to hand it to anyone safely. The guard took the scabbard from him, and walked to the golem. The robot lowered its hands for the asura to place it in its palms.
"SCN-TR6, command prompt fifty-one. Scan this weapon for magical energy deposits."
"Initiating—command—fifty—one. Scanning," the golem hummed in a monotone mechanical voice. Its eye directed down at the blade, and it beeped and squeaked for a moment. "Warning. Unknown—magical—residue—detected. Category:—suspicious. Caution—advised."
"What?" Asterix gawked in surprise. "What does that mean?"
"Unknown magic?" the guard hummed as he lifted a finger to scratch the back of his ear. "Strange, we haven't had a case like this before."
The other asuran guard looked at the Gaul. "He doesn't look much like a wizard to me. Maybe it's a cheap knock-off enchantment."
"I'm sorry sir, we have to confiscate your sword for the time being. It's not safe to bring it to Rata Sum. Don't worry, you can reclaim it after you're done with your business in the city."
"It better be that way." Asterix groaned. He was quite attached to that sword. "Can I at least have my other weapons back?"
"Naturally," the asura replied. And they gave him back his weapons. The sword was put aside, and Asterix was given a ticket for reclamation. And finally, he could pay his entry and move on. This was it, they were about to enter asuran territory once more.
Asterix looked down at Dogmatix, whom he held in his hand. "You ready?" he asked quietly.
Dogmatix yipped.
The Gaul sighed. "Here we go, then." He walked forward, unsure what to expect of Rata Sum.
* Postman. Appears in several Asterix volumes.
* Egyptian architect. Appears in Asterix and Cleopatra.