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B3 | Chapter 1 - Journey to the Capital
🕑 Added 2025-07-24 18:50:46 +0000 UTC< Previous | ToC | Next >
B3 | Chapter 1 - Journey to the Capital
The carriage rattled along for what felt like forever. Theodore figured they'd been on the road for maybe three hours now, and Freya had already cycled through at least six different sitting positions. Currently she was upside down, legs up against the backrest, head hanging off the seat. Her hair pooled on the floor like spilled ink.
"So where exactly are we going?" she asked.
Theodore glanced at her. "Valemont. Big trading city on the edge of the Scorching Expanse."
"The what now?"
"The desert. You know, the massive one between here and the capital?"
Freya flipped herself right-side up. "Oh, that. I've heard stories. Monsters everywhere, right?"
"Pretty much." Theodore leaned back against the cushions. The desert was no joke. Rank 3 monsters were common as dirt out there. You'd spot Rank 4s if you were unlucky. Hell, there were even confirmed sightings of Rank 5s, and rumors about Rank 6s that nobody wanted to think too hard about. "That's why we're taking a sandship. Fastest and safest way through."
"A ship that sails on sand?" Freya's eyes lit up. "That sounds incredible!"
"It's basically a giant boat with enchanted runners instead of a hull. Glides over the dunes like they're water." Theodore had seen one once, years ago when he'd arrived in Holden. The things were massive. Had to be, to carry all the defensive enchantments needed to survive the crossing.
Juliana sat across from them, eyes closed, probably meditating or whatever it was she did to maintain that perfect composure. Theodore wondered if she was actually asleep. Unlikely. She probably just didn't want to deal with their conversation.
Or Freya, to be more specific. The woman could be a handful, and it seemed like his sister had had her fill when they traveled from the north to Holden.
"How long does the crossing take?" Freya asked.
"Two days if the weather's good. Three or four if there's a manastorm."
"Manastorm?"
"Yeah, they're—"
"Wait, wait, wait." Freya held up a hand. "What happens if we run into one of those Rank 5 monsters?"
Theodore shrugged. "The ship has barriers and weapons. Usually they hold."
"Usually?"
"Well, sometimes a ship goes missing. But it's rare."
"How rare?"
"Like... one in a thousand?"
"That's not that rare!"
"It's better than trying to go around. That'd take months. Or you could go through on foot, you don't need to imagine how that'd turn out."
Freya considered this. Then she grinned. "Sounds exciting!"
Of course she'd think that. Theodore shook his head. The girl had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.
"So these sandships," Freya continued, "how do they work exactly? Is it wind magic? Earth magic? Some combination?"
And off she went. Theodore found himself explaining the basics of sandship construction. The layered enchantments, the specialized crews needed to keep everything running. Freya absorbed it all with that intense focus she got sometimes, asking questions that were actually pretty insightful when she wasn't being deliberately annoying.
They went back and forth for a while. Theodore explaining, Freya questioning. It was almost pleasant.
"Wait, wait." Freya suddenly sat up straighter. "You said Rank 4 monsters? Even Rank 5s?"
"Yeah?"
"How did I not think about this earlier!" Her eyes went wide with what Theodore was beginning to recognize as her 'terrible idea incoming' expression. She leaned forward and poked him in the shoulder. "Hey. Hey, Theodore."
"What?"
Another poke. "You think they'd let me down? You know, to fight them? For fun?"
Theodore stared at her. What could you even say to that?
"What?" Freya said, offended, like this was a perfectly reasonable request. "It'd be good practice!"
"It'd be good suicide."
"Not if I win!"
"You can't just—" Theodore pinched the bridge of his nose. "The whole point of the sandship is to avoid the monsters."
"But that's boring!"
"That's survival!"
"Same thing!"
Juliana's meditation was getting less and less convincing. Theodore could see her eyebrow twitching.
Then Freya asked if the ships ever raced each other and Theodore said that would be incredibly stupid and dangerous, and she said that sounded like even more fun, and suddenly they were arguing about whether theoretical sandship racing would be worth the risk of attracting every monster in a fifty-mile radius.
"—absolutely insane," Theodore was saying. "You'd basically be ringing a dinner bell for everything with teeth out there."
"But think of the glory! The first ever Sandship Racing Champion!"
"The first ever Sandship Racing Corpse, more like."
"You have no sense of adventure."
"You have no sense of survival."
"That's what makes life interesting!"
"That's what makes life short!"
They'd gotten louder without realizing it. Juliana's eye cracked open. Just one eye. She didn't say anything. Didn't need to. That single baleful glare was enough. Theodore and Freya both stopped mid-word. They exchanged guilty looks.
Juliana's eye closed again.
Silence reigned for approximately thirty seconds, then Freya let out a whine that would've made a five-year-old proud. "I'm boooooored."
He should take Juliana out to dinner sometime, the poor woman must've endured a lot on the journey from the north to Holden.
Theodore stared at Freya, exasperated. "Are you serious right now?"
"There's nothing to do in here."
"We've been talking for the last hour."
"That's not doing something, that's just talking." She turned those eyes on him. "Come on, Theodore. Do some tricks."
"What am I, a monkey?"
Freya tilted her head, genuinely confused. "Why would you be a monkey? What does that have to do with tricks?"
Theodore opened his mouth. Closed it. Right. Different world. "Never mind. What kind of tricks?"
"I don't know. Magic stuff. Juggle some fireballs or something."
"In a wooden carriage?"
"Good point. Maybe not fire then."
Theodore sighed but found himself creating a few small orbs of light anyway. They floated above his palm, swirling in lazy circles. Freya watched with the fascination of a cat tracking a laser pointer.
"Make them dance," she demanded.
"They are dancing."
"No, like... really dance. Give them little legs."
"Don't wanna."
"You could make it work if you tried."
Theodore made the orbs spin faster. Freya pouted but seemed satisfied enough. For about five minutes. Then she wanted them to change colors. Then make shapes. Then spell out words.
"You know what would be really impressive?" she said after he'd made the lights form a passable butterfly that she kept poking. "If you could make them solid. Like, lights you could touch."
"That's literally impossible."
"Nothing's impossible if you—"
"It's literally, physically, fundamentally impossible. Light doesn't work that way."
"Bet you could figure it out."
Theodore dispersed the lights before he gave himself a headache. Freya immediately started complaining about being bored again. What was she, a child?
The landscape outside had been changing gradually as a few days went by. Green fields giving way to scrubland, scrubland becoming increasingly sparse. Theodore watched the transformation with the part of his brain that wasn't occupied with Freya's running commentary about everything from the color of the sky to the way the carriage wheels sounded different on the packed dirt. Juliana maintained her meditation pose throughout, though Theodore caught her lips twitching once or twice.
Valemont sat right on the edge of habitability. Last major settlement before the desert swallowed everything. Made sense when you thought about it. Perfect position for trade. Everything going to or from the capital had to pass through there. The city had grown fat on merchant fees and sandship tickets.
"How many people live in Valemont?" Freya asked, because apparently his thoughts were painted on his face.
"Half a million, give or take."
"That's a lot of people."
"That's a medium-sized city."
"For you maybe. Biggest place I've been is the duchy capital back north."
Theodore tried to remember how big that was. Maybe fifty thousand? Valemont would be a shock to her system.
"Just stick close when we get there," he said. "Easy to get lost."
"Aww, are you worried about me?"
"I'm worried about having to explain to your family why I lost you in a crowd."
"I'm touched by your concern."
"You should be touched by common sense, but here we are."
The carriage hit a pothole. Everyone bounced. Juliana's eyes snapped open for a second, glared at nothing in particular with a huff, then closed again.
"How much longer?" Freya asked.
Theodore checked the sun's position. "Hour to the checkpoint. Maybe another hour from there to the city proper."
"Ugh. My legs are going numb."
"Walk around when we stop at the checkpoint."
"If they let us stop. Don't some places just wave you through?"
"Not Valemont. They're particular about who comes and goes." Theodore remembered the process from last time. Show papers, answer questions, pay the fee. Pretty standard stuff. "Shouldn't take long though."
Freya shifted positions again. Now she was sitting sideways, legs stretched across the bench. Her feet were dangerously close to Theodore's leg.
"Move your feet."
"There's nowhere else to put them."
"The floor exists."
"The floor is dirty."
"Your feet are dirty."
"How dare you. My feet are pristine."
Theodore looked pointedly at her travel boots, which had definitely seen better days given that she kept insisting on little strolls whenever they stopped for some rest. Strolls that ended with her chasing around some poor monsters and killing them. Freya followed his gaze and shrugged.
"Pristine under the boots."
"That's not how pristine works."
"It is now."
She was being intentionally annoying, and Theodore knew that, so he sighed and obliged. They bickered about the definition of cleanliness for a while. Then about whether boots counted as part of your feet. Then about whether magical cleaning was cheating or just efficient. It was the kind of pointless argument that helped pass the time, even if it made Theodore question his life choices.
The checkpoint finally came into view just as Freya was making an impassioned argument about how shoes were basically just portable floors and therefore her feet were technically on the floor already. Theodore had never been so glad to see a border wall in his life.
They were approaching what looked like a checkpoint. High stone walls stretched across the road, funnel-ing traffic through a central gate. Guards in uniform lounged around, looking bored. Border control. They'd need to show papers to get through.
The carriage rolled to a stop behind a merchant wagon. Theodore could hear muffled conversation up ahead. The line moved slowly. Theodore watched through the window as the merchant wagon ahead of them went through its inspection. The guards seemed thorough but not unreasonable. Going through crates, checking everything, Standard stuff.
Another wagon pulled up behind them. Then another. The checkpoint was getting busier as the day wore on. Made sense. Most people tried to reach the city before dark. The area between the checkpoint and Valemont proper wasn't exactly dangerous, but nobody wanted to risk it.
"This is taking forever," Freya whined.
"It's been ten minutes."
"Forever."
The merchant wagon finally moved on. Their carriage rolled forward. Theodore straightened his jacket, making sure the travel papers were easily accessible. First impressions mattered with border guards. Look respectable, act respectful, get through without hassle.
At least, that was the theory.
The carriage stopped at the inspection point. Theodore could see guards moving around outside, and hear them talking to the driver. Standard questions—where from, where to, purpose of visit. The driver's answers were clear and practiced. He'd probably done this run a hundred times. Then the voices changed. Got louder. Theodore frowned. That didn't sound like standard procedure.
He was about to lean out the window to see what was happening when the carriage door yanked open without warning. A young man stood there, maybe early twenties, wearing the uniform of a checkpoint official but with way too much gold trim added to it. The kind of modifications that screamed 'I think I'm more important than I am.'
"Well, well, well." The official's voice had that particular nasal quality that made Theodore's teeth itch. "What do we have here?"
Theodore kept his voice neutral. "Good afternoon. We're traveling to the capital for the tournament. Our documents are—"
"I'll be the judge of what your documents are." The official's eyes swept over the carriage interior, lingering on Juliana for way longer than necessary. Then Freya. Then back to Theodore with a sneer. "Rank 2, are we? Bit above your station to be traveling in such refined company."
Theodore gave him a dry stare. He likely couldn't sense Juliana or Freya's actual ranks—they were both suppressing their auras. To him, they probably looked like ordinary people. Wealthy ordinary people, sure, but still.
Theodore reached into his jacket and pulled out their travel papers. All of them stamped with the official seals, all of them completely legitimate. "As you can see, everything is in order."
The official snatched the papers from Theodore's hand. Didn't even look at them. Just held them up and, with a theatrical flourish, tore them in half.
"Oh dear." His smile was all teeth. "Forgeries. Clearly forgeries." He gestured at the carriage door where the family crest was displayed. "And this! Impersonating the royal family? Putting their crest on your carriage? That's a hanging offense, you know."
Theodore blinked. Was this actually happening right now? Was he being targeted? Just who the hell put this idiot up to the task?
"That's the real royal crest," he said slowly, like explaining to a child. "I am Theodo—"
"Don't lie to me, boy." The official's voice went hard. "I know criminal activity when I see it. Trafficking these poor maidens under false pretenses. Disgusting."
Trafficking? Poor maidens? Theodore glanced at Juliana, who'd finally opened both eyes and was staring at the official like he was a particularly interesting species of insect. Freya looked like she was trying not to laugh.
"Listen," Theodore said, still trying to be diplomatic with a sigh. He really didn't want to cause a scene. "There's obviously been a misunderstanding. We're happy to pay the standard inspection fee and be on our way. What's the going rate?"
"Oh, you'll be paying much more than that." The official's eyes went back to Juliana. "In fact, I think a private inspection is in order. Just to ensure these ladies aren't being coerced."
And there it was. Theodore's patience, already thin, snapped like a dry twig.
"I'm going to give you one chance," he said, voice flat. "Take a reasonable fee. Let us pass. Everyone goes home happy. But if you demand a fight, I'll gladly give it."
The official laughed. "You'll fight me? A Rank 2 nobody?" He waved at the guards behind him. Three of them, all Rank 3 from what Theodore could sense. The official himself was also Rank 3. "Seize him. Bring the ladies for proper questioning."
Theodore stood up, careful not to hit his head on the carriage roof. Stepped down onto the dusty ground. The guards were already moving forward, hands on their weapons.
Do dumb idiots like this actually exist?
He was exasperated more than angry. Like finding out that yes, the world really did contain people this stereotypically, mind-numbingly stupid. Though he wondered just who put this guy up to this task, because no way in hell did he have the power, position, or the brains to do something like this.
Well. Theodore had promised, hadn't he? He didn't want to cause a scene, but if they demanded a fight? He'd give them a fight.
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Comments
Matt Bradock
"You have falsely accused not one, but two members of the royal family of misappropriating their own family coat of arms. You threatened one with execution, the other with sexual assault, in front of multiple witnesses. The punishment for these crimes is summary execution on the spot."
