The Gate Traveler

It took us six hours on the jet skis to get close to Crystalspire. At some point, the road started to run parallel to the river, and we noticed more carts and carriages. It was time to leave the river. We reached a slight land protrusion with trees and tangled bushes. After ensuring no one could see us from the road and no boats were nearby, we turned invisible and flew up.

Half an hour later, we reached the city. From the air, Crystalspire looked cramped, with houses glued together and built on top of each other, leaving no space between them. It wasn’t until we descended a little that I noticed the narrow streets winding between the buildings. When I descended some more, I saw the streets weren’t as narrow as they first appeared.

What surprised me most was the height of some buildings. They were tall—some rivaled skyscrapers—and I couldn’t figure out how they built them without cranes. Crystalspire looked like the New York of fantasy worlds. Spires and towers rose high into the sky, with architecture that blended European craftsmanship with futuristic design.

Every building boasted intricate carvings and gleaming roofs, which reflected the sunlight and bathed the city in a golden light. From far above, I was sure it was some metal, but when I examined one roof up close, I saw a substance that reminded me of clay or mortar with thousands of crystal shards embedded in it. The translated name of the city now made sense with those spires and the gleaming roofs with crystals. Crystalspire indeed. I probed the crystals with my mana sense and discovered they were ordinary, not mana crystals.

The river cut the city in half, reflecting the sky’s shifting colors in its waters. Every few hundred meters, bridges arched gracefully over it, connecting both sides of the city, each unique. The land rose gently on either side of the river, and the houses, with their patchwork roofs and eclectic designs, ascended the hills in tiers. The air hummed with life and people—laughter, music, mouthwatering food smells from market stalls and the less pleasant scent of rotting fish and unwashed bodies.

We landed in a secluded alley. After ensuring we were alone, we became visible and continued on foot to explore the city before deciding on an inn. Walking through Crystalspire felt like exploring a living painting, each step revealing an additional detail, a new story waiting to be discovered. It created the impression that the past and future coexisted in harmony, transforming the mundane into the magical. As a resident of Earth, during our Gate-hopping adventure, I’d seen some of the world’s most beautiful cities. Crystalspire still took my breath away.

The streets were full of people from all walks of life, most wearing vibrant colors, even more vibrant than in Rivermine Vale. Various shops sold colorful things—from clothes to fabrics—and, together with the colors of the buildings, created an impression of an explosion of colors. The colors weren’t jarring; they didn’t look like parrots or parakeets—just very colorful.

As I walked the city’s cobblestone streets, the sounds of daily life blended into a steady sound, like the city’s music—merchants haggling, people talking, and the distant metal clanging from a blacksmith’s forge added the beat. It almost sounded like a song, like I was walking to its rhythm. My hand itched to take out my guitar and add melody to the city’s song. The air carried a faint smell of baking and something exotic, maybe perfume of spices, that seemed to permeate everything in this city.

The streets were all twisted and turning, sometimes narrowing so tightly that only two people could walk side by side, other times opening up into wide avenues that led to plazas with fountains shimmering in the sun. Some plazas had grass and trees, and others had various stalls. We passed a plaza selling wood creations, another with leather works, and others with woven baskets and hats. It was easy to get lost here, especially since my Map had no names. Everything was a jumble—one or two shops with a floor or two of living space above them, those crazy tall spires that I had no idea what they housed, then strictly residential buildings with clothes hanging on lines above the street, and some lines even stretched between buildings over the narrower alleys. Suddenly, there’d be an open space that looked like a showroom of some kind, and then it was back to residential buildings again.

From down here, those spires were even taller than I thought from up above. I couldn’t figure out how they built them so high. Tall, narrow structures leaned close to each other, their rooftops nearly touching. But, even with all the houses crammed together, the city didn’t feel suffocating. The streets were crazy and illogical—almost looping back on themselves, but they each had their own vibe and unique look.

We stopped in a quieter plaza for a while, where the shade from a big, old tree provided some relief from the hot sun. Rue’s tongue lolled out as he panted, clearly feeling the heat.

I patted his head. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yes. Rue hot, but city nice.”

After a quick break to drink some water and cool off in the shade, we set off again to continue exploring. After walking for another half an hour, looking around like the tourist I was, Rue turned right to some street.

“Where are you going?” I called after him.

“Rue smell something interesting.”

I walked after him for a few minutes and began smelling food. I should have known—of course, the walking stomach located a food plaza. We came out to a square with many food stalls, with hundreds of different scents battling each other for supremacy. The amazing scents of cooking meat, sweet pastries, and exotic spices blended and made my mouth water. Rue practically vibrated with excitement. His nose led the way as we got closer, twitching and sniffing at every scent. When I walked deeper into the market, it became a sensory overload. For Rue, of course, it was a veritable buffet of possibilities. He kept saying, “Rue wants taste! That one smells like treat! And that one! Rue needs them all!”

I chuckled and scratched his ear. “Easy, buddy. We can’t just raid every stall. People will start talking.”

But Rue wouldn’t let up, his massive head swaying as we walked past vendors selling meat skewers, each one more tempting than the next. His pleas grew more insistent, “Rue very hungry. Just one bite? Two? Three? Rue promise to share!”

A vendor noticed Rue’s intense interest and smiled at us. “Your dog has good taste, esteemed sir,” he said, holding a piece of roasted meat. “Would you like to let him try it?”

Before I could answer, Rue had already locked eyes with the vendor, his tail wagging furiously. I sighed, knowing I’d lost this round. “Go ahead, buddy.”

The vendor tossed the meat toward Rue, and it disappeared with a quick snap of his jaws.

“Thank you! Rue like this meat.” He told him, his tail wagging.

The vendor didn’t react. Finally! One without the telepathy skill.

“Rue like this meat. It almost yummy snake.”

I sighed. “How much for all the ready meat you have?”

“All of it?” He asked, sounding shocked.

I pointed my hand at Rue. “Did you see his size?”

He laughed. “Yes, I see your point.”

I bought all the meat he had for a gold and a half. Rue was dancing around me and saying, “John is best. John is bestest best.”

The vendor kept laughing, seeing Rue’s enthusiasm, and I suspect it was because he sold all his stock and was going home early.

Initially, I thought of putting the meat in my backpack and then discreetly storing it, but then I remembered the merchants’ inventory skills. We were in fantasy land now. I could do magical stuff freely! The need to do a viewpoint shift after every stint on Earth was annoying, but at least this time, it was quick.

We continued through the market, and Rue’s enthusiasm didn’t wane. His nose led us from one stall to the next, each one a new culinary adventure. He sniffed at baskets of bread, eyed pastries with a sugary glaze with a lot of interest, and even glanced at a stall selling what looked like fruit, which was unusual for him—he was a protein, carbs, and sweets dog, not a fruits and vegetables dog. I had to keep a firm hand on his collar to prevent him from diving into every delicious-smelling display, though his pleading didn’t stop even for a minute.

“Just one more? Rue still hungry… Look, they have sweet there! Rue hungrier hungry!”

“Nice try, Rue,” I told him, trying to sound stern but failing to hide my chuckles. “We’ve got more exploring to do, and I need you focused, not stuffed.”

Rue huffed, sighed telepathically and audibly, but fell in step beside me, his nose still twitching at all the surrounding smells.

I wanted to find an inn where we could stay. The city was enormous, and I already knew from experience that it was always better to go sightseeing when there was a convenient place to return to. At first, I thought about asking about a nearby inn, but as I looked at the tall buildings and remembered the presidential suite I stayed in, I decided to treat myself.

I saw a stall with two women selling fruit, and one of them was the delicious little fruit I baked in pies.

I approached them. “Good day, ladies.”

“Good day, sir. What can we interest you in today?”

I remembered I hadn’t checked the fruit’s name. I quickly used Identify, pulled out a large box, and said, “I want this box full of Jabika.”

They looked at the box with narrowed eyes, exchanged whispers, and then the older of the two spoke firmly, “Eighty silver.”

After I paid and stored my fruits, I turned back to the woman. “I’m looking for an upscale inn, preferably in one of the tall buildings where I can see the entire city.”

She eyed me up and down, then glanced at Rue, who was busy sniffing a basket of odd, brown-green berries that smelled like overly sweet perfume. Her brow furrowed slightly. “What exactly are you looking for? An inn or a skyrest?”

“What’s a skyrest?”

“A noble establishment for staying in the city, usually in one of the spires,” she explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Is it strictly for nobles?”

“Not if you can pay for it,” she said, sounding disgruntled.

“Then I’m looking for an upscale skyrest,” I confirmed with a nod.

“You’ll want the Goldenleaf Spire then,” she said, her tone more helpful. “It’s a bit of a walk from here, but they have good rooms, splendid suites on the higher floors, a private bathhouse, and the best meals in Crystalspire.” She pointed to a street on our left. “Head down that street, take a left at the fountain with the horse and rider statue, then right, left, and right again on the first wide streets you see. You should reach the Flowers plaza. Ask about the Headless Scholar Street and keep going until you see the skyrest’s sign—a golden leaf against a dark wood background. It’s the tallest spire on that street. You can’t miss it.”

I couldn’t help my curiosity. “Why is he headless?”

Both of them gave me that famous strange look and said together, “Huh?”

“You said the Headless Scholar Street. Why is he headless?” I clarified.

The younger one shrugged. “I have no idea.”

At the same time, the older one said with a wry smile, “Because he was a man.”

I laughed, but the younger one scolded her, “Mother, you can’t say that to a male customer.”

After thanking them both, I followed the directions and double-checked several times to ensure I was going the right way. The locals were friendly and helpful, and eventually, Rue and I arrived at the Goldenleaf Spire.

I stood in front of the building and tilted my neck as far back as possible to see its entire height. The spire, a needle-like tower of stone and metal, had a pointy roof that looked like a glittering needle that seemed to pierce the sky. The combination of intricate carvings and smooth panels decorated the building, reflecting the sunlight and creating the illusion of waves of light passing over it. High above, on the upper floors, rounded wooden balconies jutted out with climbing plants hanging over the railings like a waterfall. The narrow and long windows caught the light in such a way that they looked like sparkling streaks on the building. The impression was of wealth, prestige, and grandeur. Just by looking at the building, I knew it would be expensive. But I could afford it, and if I was in a place with luxurious accommodations, why not enjoy myself?

Pushing open the heavy door, I stepped inside, with Rue close behind. The skyrest’s interior reminded me of luxury hotels on Earth. The first floor was one large open space, with a polished marble floor, sofas, and large armchairs upholstered in leather and velvet. Servers moved gracefully, serving customers seated in groups throughout the area. At the far right, a small platform held three musicians playing stringed instruments that resembled violins, though their shapes were slightly different. On the far left was an enormous table with two girls sitting behind it, and between the stage and the table was a long bar lined with bottles.

I approached the table with the girls, guessing that it probably was the reception desk. They both looked up as I approached, and their eyes briefly widened at the sight of Rue. “Welcome to the Goldenleaf Spire,” one of them said, sounding very unsure of her greeting. I could almost hear the question mark at the end of her sentence. “How can I assist you today?”

“I was recommended this skyrest as the place with the best suites in the city. I’d love to hear about the suites you offer, the amenities available, and the prices.”

“How many people is the suite for?” she asked, her tone cautious.

“It’s just me and my friend here,” I replied, smiling and pointing at Rue.

She still looked uncertain as she eyed him, her brow furrowing. “We don’t usually allow guard dogs in the rooms. We have special kennels in the back.”

“He’s not a guard dog. He’s my familiar.”

“Can you prove it?” she asked, her expression skeptical.

“How exactly?” I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

She turned to Rue and asked directly, “Are you his familiar?”

“Yes! Rue John’s familiar and adventurer!” He declared it with such enthusiasm that she winced slightly, taken aback.

“Welcome, distinguished familiar,” she said, quickly recovering, her tone more respectful. “We are always happy to host you at the Goldenleaf.”

Rue nodded firmly, giving the vibe of “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

She turned back to me, her professional demeanor returning. “A suite with a spacious guest room, dining area, and one bedroom costs five gold per night. This includes free use of the bathhouse, which has pools at different temperatures and steam rooms. It also includes access to our meeting rooms if you came to Crystalspire for business, a room cleaning service, and a butler to help during your stay.”

“I heard about your food, too.”

“Yes,” she replied with a nod, her tone brightening, “we have three different dining establishments. There’s a restaurant specializing in meat dishes on the floor above us. On the fourth floor, there’s a café, and on the roof, we have a restaurant specializing in dishes from the sea and river.” She waved her hand in an arc around the lobby. “The ground floor has the bar, and you can also arrange for meals to be delivered to your room through your butler.”

“I’ll take a suite on one of your highest floors for seven days. I want to see the city from above.”

“We have garden suites on the upper floors,” she explained, her voice taking on a more formal tone. “They cost more because of the large balconies. The price per night is seven gold.”

I placed forty nine gold on the table and said, “I’ll take a suite with a balcony for seven days.”

She gave me a key to a room on the thirty-third floor and pointed me toward the elevator—or “Riser,” as they called it here. I was pretty curious to see how it worked.

Runes maybe?

When we got to the elevator, there was a rope I had to pull to summon it. The door creaked open, and inside stood the most muscular guy I’d ever seen. His arm muscles looked like Popeye’s from the cartoons—after Popeye ate the spinach.

When he saw Rue, he gulped. I initially thought he was scared of him or something, but then I understood the cause. Unfortunately, the elevator didn’t work on magic. There was a wheel that looked like a ship’s rudder, and every time the guy turned it, the elevator went up. I guessed there was a system of chains and pulleys involved. No wonder he gulped—Rue had become a big and heavy familiar, and lifting all that weight thirty-three floors was no small feat.

When I walked into the room, I noticed how warm it was, not in temperature, but in how everything seemed to glow softly. Candles were all over the room, and their flames danced softly, giving off a soft light. Crystals set into the walls and ceiling really caught my eye. The light from them was dim and seemed diffused. Those crystals were unlike anything I had seen before, and I was very curious about them. I knew I had to ask about them later, but I just took it all in for now.

The furniture was beautiful. Deep blue armchairs looked like they could swallow me up if I sat down too quickly, and a sofa with soft curves and thick fabric looked like it begged to be sunk into. The floor was so polished that the soft light bounced off of it and made every step sparkle. The ceiling above had a complicated pattern resembling a thousand tiny stars. There were mirrors all around that reflected the room repeatedly and made it feel grand without being too much.

Everything in the room, from the low tables that looked great for relaxing to the fancy windows that made the room feel even more extensive, and the design on the floor was over the top. I understood why the lady said a noble skyrest—it looked like a place for nobles but was also pretty. I stayed in some shitty inns in fantasy land—in Lumis and Shimoor. It was nice to find a place that was the opposite. Maybe I had become spoiled, but I didn’t care. And judging by the speed at which Rue’s tail was wagging, he had become spoiled, too.

Like master, like familiar.

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