Remaining calm was what I needed to do.
It seemed Nora was entrapping me within these mansion walls.
“I woke up early. Just thought I could go for a walk around the city since I’ve never been here before.”
“In that case, I could accompany you,” he suggested.
“Perfect, why not?”
We left the mansion gates which gave me a notion that it was fine for Zidane to leave this place but not me alone. I had to be in someone’s eyesight at all times. The sun had fully risen and the blue skies had taken over and there was a beautiful silence in the air. The birds chirped, the bushes rustled and for once, this ghastly country felt quiet.
“Is that a canal?!” I suddenly spat, upon reaching the edge of the pavement. Blue glistening water ran past me.
“Ballaad is a city that consists of water. It is one of our smaller but fine cities,” Zidane said, “There are roads for carriages, while beneath, there are layers of canals cutting through the city.”
Hearing the quiet fluttering of water, I looked to the left side seeing an open roof carriage, pulled by what seemed to be a small Dragon. No, it looked more like a Leviathan. And slowly passing it on my right, under an arched bridge, was a singular man in a wooden boat canoeing himself past.
“Most people traverse this inner city through these canals-”“Where does the water come from?” I looked at Zidane with pure curiosity.
“It comes from the earth.”“Yes, I know that but who built this? Is there a river nearby? What happens if there is a flood? Is there a drainage system?”
Zidane, overwhelmed with the questions, finally unfolded his arms and looked at me desperately waiting for the answer. For once, something in this country other than magic intrigued me because it seemed like there were general mechanics and systems hiding beneath all of this. “I do not know the answer to your questions, but I can say this. This city was constructed by a Great Sage around two hundred years ago.”
I didn’t want to ask questions that may have been common knowledge in this world. Nora was one thing but asking Zidane just gave me an idea I would be signing my death sentence. Great Sage. I had just read that in the book and I assumed that they were essentially architects of this world, possibly leaning over to the side of building rather than fighting.
“Say, Zidane, is there any way in which we can go to a carpenters shop maybe? Or perhaps something similar.”
“Possibly, I do not doubt that there is one in this city. However, I do not know its exact location, rather I could possibly lead us toward an area,” he said, waving toward a passing by carriage down below. “But first, we’ll traverse using this.”
It seemed Zidane himself had adopted a rich taste, or maybe he was a noble his whole life. Nonetheless, Zidane had picked out a much more extravagant carriage, rather than going onto the regular boats. Not that I was complaining but these functioned like Taxis. A man suited to match the extravagance sat facing forward, holding reins onto the snakey reptile. And so Zidane dropped a gold coin into the man’s hand which I had learnt was called Valleris.
It obviously wasn’t a real gold coin, but rather one painted as such, also leading me to wonder how the banking system worked in this country. They didn’t seem to have adopted paper notes but they clearly had a form of currency attached to some sort of value.
Was the currency backed by real gold? It made sense because it wasn’t as if this country had an abundance of gold and if so, who controlled the money and banks? Or did currency just run on faith like the modern world?
Anyway, it was too much to think about for something that did not benefit me.
I stepped onto the carriage and the two of us began to move, quickly accelerating to something like a motor boat. We didn’t go too fast, avoiding all the other people travelling, but this certainly was a lot faster than walking.
Again, we slowly left the riches behind as I watched the class divide increase as we went by and it sort of felt like I was entering the slums of Brazil but with a twist.
The calm and quiet noise from the district occupied by the nobles had faded away, overtaken by the loud bustling of markets and children running atop tin roofs. I looked around me in awe, something about this sight was far more beautiful than the mansion. It felt like a completed puzzle, everything fit together. Tall towers were situated across the districts, with canals tilting upwards as we went closer to the walls. It seemed that the way this city was built, the further you went to the centre, the lower ground you got.
Ironic.
Houses made from whatever possible were stacked atop of one another, mainly of them being made of either tin, wood or clay. But the way whomever built them, had done it beautifully because even as chaotic as it looked, there was a sense of organisation to it. Houses circled these tall towers, going up like stairs with metal ropes holding huts from the sky as if they were trees.
Mountains of houses stacked atop one another with children leaping from roof to roof, with bars full of men and women laughing away. Until-
“Motherfucker!” A voice screeched to our right as we travelled upwards through the canal.
“I’ll fucking butcher you I swear!”
“Don’t fuck with me!” Two loud voices were screaming over each other for dominance, and before I could process what was going on, looking over to my right, I saw a man drive a dagger into another man's neck, ultimately killing him on the spot.
And the sight was something to behold, for when the man dropped dead to the ground, all he got was a few looks, and society continued to walk on. Everyone around him had just acknowledged what had occurred with their eyes, and walked on like nothing happened. How desensitised were they to murder?
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But Zidane did not let that go.
He banged on the wall of the carriage and the rider immediately knew to stop, and instantly, Zidane launched out of the canal with a force that rocked me side to side. Water splashing on my face, I watched the scene unravel.
“You have just committed murder. I shall arrest you under the royal decree,” Zidane bellowed with his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Are you… a royal knight? What are you doing here? So far away from home?” The man said, scratching his stubbled beard with his blade. He looked unkept with tired eyes and slightly ripped clothes.
“I shall arrest you. It would be in your best interest to not resist,” Zidane added on. But I noticed a mood change within the slums. Women and men alike, had begun to slow their movements, but focus their eyes on the scene like me. I noticed one woman with white hair and cat eyes, slightly turning as if to not give away that she was looking while holding a fan over her face. She watched from the corner of her eye. Something did not seem right.
“Mr Royal Knight. You aren’t home,” the man said, darkening his expression with a smile. And slowly, all around the area, I watched more and more individuals quietly emerging from the roofs, windows and doors. They all glared down at Zidane with terrifyingly calm expressions. And my eyes focused on all their hands, each calmly resting their palms on different weapons. I understood it then. This was their turf, and Zidane was not welcome.
I wanted to pull back Zidane, but I did not want to get involved. And in fact, if Zidane was killed here, it would probably help me out anyway.
“If you do not come with me, I will not hesitate to take you by force.”
The air grew tense. I watched their eyes. I watched their hands. And then I noticed, the man's gaze suddenly shifted to me.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck you Zidane. Fuck you.
Their attention was now on me and no matter what I said, they had already combined me and him together as one force. This time, I had no choice but to act, and stepping out of the carriage, I pulled on Zidane’s arm with the tightest grip I could give.
“Zidane, pull back now. It is not worth it,” I said.
“You are telling me to withdraw from murderers?” He said , still with his hand on the hilt while staring them down.
“Zidane, you dumb fuck. Don’t piss me off. They’re now targeting me as well. Which means I will fucking die too. I am not dying because of you. I am not a knight.”
“Then I shall protect you at the same time-”
“Fucking no! No!” I began to screw at him, then lowering my voice so just me and him could hear, still in an angered tone, “You just barely managed to protect Nora from those Aylanists. And Nora is strong herself. And you think you can protect me?”
That comment seemed to chip away at his ego. He finally looked toward me, with those same stern eyes and then looked back at the group.
“I withdraw. If I came back to Nora and something had happened to you, it would cause great disappointment in her and ultimately, I would fail as a Knight.”
Thank fuck you fool.
Zidane turned his back to the scene but left them with a few last words.
“I will not do anything to you now. But I shall alert Zetsu Tellaris of this.”
And that was the end of that.
Part Two
The rest of the journey was significantly quiet, so I decided to speak up to break it.
“How come you are helping me when you don’t trust me? In fact, do you still not trust me?”
There was a brief moment of silence before he answered, “I am still observing you closely. I thank you for your actions in the ambush against the Aylanists, but you are still under suspicion.”
Great.
“What about Nora?” I asked.
“I do not know what Her Highness thinks, but I am doing this out of my own coalition.”
“So why is it that you are helping me?”
“As you see, this city is rough. I would be a failure of a Knight if I didn’t guide you through.”
“Hmm?”
The carriage came to a halt, in a different area of the district which sort of reminded me of Bangladesh in a sense. Full of markets, tight side roads and just a lot of people flooding by.
“Excuse me,” Zidane stopped in front of a stall made of tin.
A young man with a bright smile answered, “Oh a Royal Knight? How rare to see someone like you here.”
He looked like he was running a food stall with three food trays laid out in front, sprinkled with different toppings and colours. It looked similar to pie and the meaty smell ran up and down my nose.
“I would like to enquire-”
“Can we both order a portion?” I intervened to which the man responded with a bright smile. “Why of course sir!” He replied, hurriedly cutting up slices to place them onto what seemed to be leaves curled up in a bowl of straw.
“And who’s going to pay for that?” Zidane asked.
“Why you of course. I have no money,” I responded to which he sighed and handed over a few silver coins.
“Keep the change,” Zidane said, humbly accepting the food.
Zidane asked me a question for once, “Why the sudden request?”
“It would be rude of us to just go up to a poor man working hard in the slums to ask for a request. Especially when he was expecting us to purchase something from him.”
And there was no lie in that. I admired men like him, because yes, while I stood at the pinnacle of humanity, it was men like this that held up the foundation. I admired men like him who had lesser options than the many, but still got up to make something of himself. And after all, that was how I rose to the top. We all began somewhere.
“Also sir,” I added on, “Do you know if there is a carpenter somewhere? Maybe a blacksmith or some sort?”
“Yeah! There is a man named Lorenzo down the street,” he began to point as he popped his head out, “You see where that green banner is? Just go under there and tell him Alessandro sent you.”
“Thank you,” I replied and so the two of us set off.
We got to the green banner and saw what seemed to be a shop made of wood, with a dirty window covering the inside. It slightly reminded me of Jay’s workshop and so I subtly opened the door to which a bell rang loud.
“Welcome!” The man said, combing his black hair back as he rubbed his dirty hands, “Wow. A Royal Knight! It’s rare to have one around here. In fact, I’ve never had one!” He let out a loud laugh to which I gave a small nod.
“Thank you for the warm welcome. I have come because my acquaintance is seeking you. Is your name Lorenzo?”
“Yes! Nice to meet you guys.”
I slowly looked around the workshop, analysing whatever was around. Hanging clocks, gears and pulleys, and beautifully carved woodworks.
“Lorenzo,” I began, “how passionate are you about building?”
“A damn lot!” He responded with a smile, “Have you come in need of something? Clocks, mechanisms for your house maybe? I can build whatever you need. Show me a problem, and I’ll figure out a way to build around it!”
“Lorenzo, if I showed you how to build something you have never seen before, would you work on it for free?”
“What do you mean by that?” The man's face turned into confusion, but his eyes sparkled showing me how intrigued he was by the offer. Pulling out my gun, I inspected it while showing it to him. And then I took aim at one of his cabinets. I looked down at the iron sight, keeping a steady breath, and then fired a shot. The burst rattled the room and the door of the cabinet blew off and then I looked at Lorenzo with a smile.
“What… what is that?” Lorenzo asked with his eyes widened in shock.
“This is a gun. And what I want to build with you…”
I saw him gulp.
“Is an RPG.”