The Gate Traveler

When I returned to our suite, Rue was already there, stretched on a sofa, his tail wagging lazily. “How was the visit with your new friends?” I asked.

“Very silly!” Rue said in a serious tone, nodding for emphasis and getting off the couch.

I laughed and asked, “Why silly?”

Rue’s eyes widened as he demonstrated a clumsy claw swipe with his paw. “Daran say fight monsters like this. That silly! If Rue do this with claws, Rue can’t run fast to grab monster, and shake shake shake to make monster go splat!” he explained.

“Well,” I said with a grin, “he’s a cat, you’re a dog, you fight differently.”

Rue huffed, his nose wrinkling. “Daran very silly! Daran say biting monsters is yuck! How can Rue shake monster to go splat with no biting? Daran also say it smart to jump on a monster from back in surprise. That silly! If a monster not see Rue, monster not know Rue is dangerous!” he barked, looking genuinely perplexed.

I shook my head, still laughing. “How were the other familiars?” I asked, trying to stifle my amusement.

“Shashik nice,” Rue said, his tone softening. “Shashik not talk, he only level 3. Shashik like warm. Shashik coil around Rue tail. Rue forgot Shashik was on Rue tail. Rue wagged tail and Shashik fly off,” he recounted, his eyes narrowing at the memory. “But Shashik not angry. He smart. He wrapped around Rue’s neck, and never fly off again,” Rue added, nodding sagely.

“That does sound smart,” I said with a big grin, picturing the scene. “And how is the bird?”

Rue’s ears perked up. “Lepim also silly!” he declared, his mental voice rising a notch.

I chuckled and asked, “Why is he silly?”

Rue shook his head like he was exasperated and said, “Lepim say the wind tell stories to wings. Wind not tell stories. Wind ruffle Rue fur. That not story. That wind say Rue is friend. Not story,” he growled, shaking his head again, as if to rid himself of an annoying thought.

“What stories does the wind tell his wings?”

“Lepim say wind tell about warm current, strong current, weak current. Silly stories!” Rue said with a huff. “Windy Rue go up. Not windy Rue go down,” he added, puffing out his chest.

I never thought I’d gain insight into wildlife from a dog’s perspective!

“So, you didn’t have fun?”

“Rue had bestest fun,” he said, tail wagging again. “After familiars stop be silly, we talk about delicious food. They know a lot delicious food. Rue like hearing about delicious food. But now Rue is very, very hungry. Rue hear a lot about delicious food,” he added, his stomach growling as if on cue.

“Didn’t you eat there?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Rue eat, but Rue is still hungry. Rue hear about too much delicious food,” he said, giving me puppy-dog eyes.

I laughed again. My dog was silly, but I didn’t tell him that. I’m not silly.

In the morning, Rid brought me a note from Manul.

“Hello, esteemed Bard. I wish to speak with you to hear about your fantastic wolf. Unfortunately, I’m working with a noble family to bind them to familiars, and it is a longer and more involved process than I initially anticipated. I will be moving to their spire today, hoping to move things along more efficiently. I hope you will still be in Crystalspire when I complete my job with them. If not, I hope we can meet in another place. I, like you, move from place to place. So I hope our paths will cross again. Also, please tell Rue that my familiars enjoyed his visit immensely—especially his stories about smoked crabs. Their descriptions were so vivid that I also find myself craving a smoked crab. Maybe my future job will take me north to an area with crab dunes. With utmost respect, Manul Astadi”

“Rue,” I called. When he padded out of the bedroom, I read him the message from Manul.

“Of course!” He exclaimed, wagging his tail a mile a minute. “Rue know smoked crab is bestest.”

“Want to go and visit a bakery with me?”

He shouted “Yes!” into my head in a loud volume.

I rubbed my temple and told him, “We’ll eat breakfast there. Let’s go.”

The bakery was also in the old city, so I took a coach again. When the coachman saw Rue, he stepped back, alarmed. “Don’t worry. He’s dangerous only to monsters.”

The coachman looked at me suspiciously with furrowed brows and squinted eyes.

“Look innocent,” I told Rue telepathically.

Rue wagged his tail and gave the coachman the best puppy-dog eyes I’ve seen from him so far, with his tongue lolling out. The coachman looked at him a moment longer and visibly relaxed.

The bakery was close to the Potion Emporium, near the royal palace. It was in a vast building that spanned two blocks. The smells coming from the doors were simply heaven. I had no other words to describe it: fresh bread, exotic spices, baked fruit, baked cheese—simply heaven. Five doors were facing the street, and judging by my nose, the first door on the right was for bread, followed by doors with various pastries. I headed to the last door on the left, where the fantastic smells of exotic spices were rising.

Inside, the place was spacious, with an enormous U-shaped counter along the three inner walls of the store. In the center stood a large table with a selection of pastries, and along the windows facing the street were small tables with chairs. The smell was overwhelming inside the store—too many spices mixed into a delicious but overpowering aroma. My high Perception was a curse sometimes.

Smiling young girls stood all along the counter, serving customers, while servers dressed in brown uniforms served those at the tables by the windows. I saw a customer paying the server and walked over to that table to grab it. The customer got up, and the server quickly cleared the table.

Before I sat down, I asked, “Do you have other tables outside?”

He pointed to a door near the counter on the right. “Yes, in the back garden.”

“Excellent. We’ll go there.”

He looked around, probably to figure out who “we” was, and then saw Rue. He jerked in surprise, his eyes wide.

“Don’t worry. This is my familiar. He’s very friendly,” I told him with a smile, trying to reassure him.

He nodded and went back to cleaning the table.

We chose a table in the garden under a tree, and when a server approached us, I ordered two of everything. He looked at me quizzically and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I brought an assistant,” I said, pointing at Rue.

“Very well, sir,” he replied with a bow. As he walked away, he shook his head. I couldn’t see his face, but I was sure he was rolling his eyes. This was the vibe I got from him.

After ten minutes, three servers approached our table, each carrying an enormous basket full of pastries. When Rue saw them coming, he straightened up and started wagging his tail. The servers looked at the baskets, then at the table. One put down his basket, fetched two more small tables, and placed them next to ours. They exchanged glances, and I could almost hear their thoughts, “Crazy tourists” or some local variation.

“Enjoy,” the three of them said in unison before leaving.

Rue and I began methodically tasting the pastries. Pastries with sour fruits, sweet fruits, and various nuts and spices. One pastry with cheese and hot pepper flakes was one of the tastiest things I’ve ever eaten. I also felt the mana in the pastries. The amount was less than in snake steak or crabs, even less than the amount of mana in my regular cooking when I infuse the food, but there was mana in them.

Rue and I didn’t talk to each other. We were too busy chewing. After about half an hour, a hefty lady approached us and said, “I’m sorry to say this, but dough is not healthy for canines.”

Rue answered her, “Ruhf ish notta cane-ine. Ruhf ish an advennerer.”

I chuckled to myself, but she didn’t respond.

“It’s okay, ma’am. He’s no ordinary canine. He’s a familiar and can eat anything.”

She relaxed, nodded, said, “Enjoy,” and left.

Despite our best efforts—Rue’s much better than mine—we couldn’t finish a third of the pastries. I waved the server over, and when he approached us, I asked, “Please pack up everything left. In addition, please make me a package of twenty pastries of each kind to take with me.”

He looked surprised and asked, “Are you sure, sir?”

“Yes, extensive family. Don’t worry.”

After a while, five servers carried large boxes containing pastries that seemed to be made from large leaves. My bill came to four gold and seventeen silver. After I paid, I gave them a tip—which, of course, surprised them, and I had to explain the idea to them. However, they embraced the idea much more readily than Rid.

“Can I speak to a manager or the owner, please?” I asked.

“Is there a problem, sir?” one of them asked, a concerned look on his face.

“No, no. Everything is perfect. I just want to ask something.”

He nodded and went to call the manager or the owner. The hefty lady returned to my table and said, “Hello, respected merchant. My name is Astha Hamion, and I belong to the founding family of the Mana-Infused Bakery. How may I help you?” she asked, her tone formal but curious.

“I am fascinated by magical items. May I see your ovens?”

She looked annoyed and replied sharply, “No. This bakery has belonged to the Hamion family for thirteen generations, and we’ve never let anyone inspect our ovens.”

Bummer, I thought. Maybe a bribe will help?

I took out a bag of white sugar and spice packets of cinnamon, cloves, allspice, and vanilla. “Please check these out. I promise you no one else in this world has them.”

She tasted the sugar, and her eyes widened. They opened even more when she smelled and tasted the spices.

“If you let me look at the ovens, they are yours. I will give you these. And not only this amount but much, much more.”

She looked angry. “I told you, the bakery has belonged to the family for many generations, and we never let anyone inspect the ovens.”

“Not even for special spices?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No!” she half-yelled at me, her face turning red.

I raised my hands in surrender and said, “Please don’t be angry. I asked, you answered. There’s no reason to turn this into an argument.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and I saw her shoulders relax. “Would you be willing to sell us these spices?”

“No. I have a limited amount and save it for special occasions.” It came out in a sharper tone than I intended, sounding vengeful.

Oh well, it is what it is.

She looked at me sideways, bowed slightly, and said through gritted teeth, “Good day, sir.” She then turned dramatically on her heels and stomped away.

“Big lady angry,” Rue said, his tail twitching.

“Yep. Let’s go, buddy,” I replied, standing up.

I wanted to visit the Royal Palace, and when I checked the map, I saw it was just a few blocks from where we were. When we arrived at the palace, I discovered a stone wall surrounded most of it, and I could only glimpse it through a highly decorative iron gate. I tried to get a better look, but quickly, two guards armed with spears approached me and politely but firmly told me to clear the passage to the gate.

I went to an alley three blocks away, left Rue in the alley, turned invisible, and flew toward the palace. I flew over the wall with no response from the guards, either outside or inside.

So far, so good.

The palace was enormous and so decorated that it practically hurt my eyes. It covered an area of three or even four blocks, with all the roofs shaped into domes, in a blue color that sparkled in the sun. When I got closer to the roof, I saw crystals embedded in the material covering it. I expected the crystals to be blue, but they were clear. The material itself held the blue color. Over-the-top gold-plated details adorned the building. I didn’t know if it was genuine gold plating or just paint, but it didn’t really matter. The overall impression was one of majesty and splendor, wealth and opulence, like something straight out of a fairy tale.

This is how a palace should look!

In front, symmetrically trimmed bushes, statues, and fountains adorned every corner of the manicured gardens, along with blooming flowers. The gardens were simply stunning and completed the impressive image of the palace. At least the vegetation outside, though also excessive, helped tone down the overly extravagant look a bit. It was something!

I took out my camera to take some pictures.

Oops!

My camera wasn’t invisible. I landed behind a tree, made sure no one saw me, turned visible and invisible again, flew back up, and took pictures. A mage or wizard ran out of the palace holding a staff. I didn’t use Identify, but I could tell this person belonged to one of the magical classes. I could feel it. He looked around as if searching for something.

Me, maybe?

To be on the safe side, I flew back over the wall, picked up Rue, and we continued walking around the city.

After about twenty minutes, Rue said, “Rue smells smoke,” his nose twitching.

“I smell smoke all the time,” I replied, shrugging. “I think they’re cooking over an open fire.”

“Rue smells bad smoke,” he insisted, his tone more urgent.

“What is bad smoke?”

“Big fire, lots bad smoke.”

“Okay, buddy. Take us there.”

We followed Rue’s nose, and after a few blocks, we came upon an awful scene. One building was burning heavily, and two buildings on either side had also caught fire. One had flames licking at the roof, and the other was burning on the wall closest to the original blaze. I immediately commanded the wind to stop blowing, and everything stilled.

Despite my request, the fire refused to go out. I sent the request again, even begged it to stop burning, but the fire didn’t feel like it. It was really enjoying devouring everything in its path. Just then, four horses galloped around the corner, dragging behind them the biggest barrel I had ever seen—about the size of a concrete mixer, mounted on a set of wheels. The horses stopped in front of the burning building, and people sitting on the front benches jumped down. They grabbed buckets hanging from the sides of the barrel, started filling them with water, and handed them to the spectators, who began pouring water on the fire.

I sent a request to the fire again, but this time I tried something different. I sent the feeling, You’re about to be extinguished with water. Wouldn’t you rather extinguish yourself? This way, you decide, not the water. Or as close to that as I could manage with feelings and impressions.

The fire reluctantly agreed to go out, and the feeling I got from it reminded me of a teenage girl rolling her eyes and saying, “Fine,” in a very put upon tone. But the fire went out. It didn’t just diminish—it simply disappeared. One second it was blazing, and the next, it was gone. There weren’t even any smoldering coals left. I ordered the wind to blow the smoke away, and a powerful gust swept up and carried the smoke away. The combination was so effective that even most of the smell vanished. There was still a burnt scent, but more like what lingers days after a fire, not right after.

All the spectators stood around, looking amazed. I stood with them, imitating their movements to blend in. Then I heard screams of pain and immediately stopped pretending. I ran toward the screams and saw a woman with two children staggering out of the building that had been burning earlier.

I rushed to them, and without even making a diagnosis, I split my mind in two, placed a hand on each child, and cast Healing Touch. The girl was fine after one cast, but the boy needed two. He had burns over seventy or eighty percent of his body. I lifted my hand from the girl and placed it on the mother, casting Healing Touch again. When they were all healed, I looked around. The woman tried to thank me, but I ignored her, searching for more injured people. I saw a few more with burns and went through them one by one, casting Healing Touch on each.

I looked around again, and when I saw no more injuries, I exhaled.

That was tense.

The woman approached me again, her voice full of gratitude. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t have much money to give you, but I am in your debt. Whatever you ask, I will do.”

I patted her shoulder and said, “It’s okay. Take care of your kids. That’s what’s more important right now.”

She took my hand, kissed it, and repeated, “Thank you, thank you.”

I smiled at her and was about to leave, but the people I healed, and even some I didn’t, came up to me and handed me coins. One of them patted my back and said, “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a selfless healer who helps when needed, without charging a huge amount in advance. Well done, son. Don’t lose your humanity.”

“Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t lose it,” I replied, nodding.

After the people finished paying and thanking me, Rue and I walked away, heading toward the hotel. It was certainly an eventful day, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

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