The wagon's halt jolted me awake. Outside, gray morning light filtered through the gaps in the wooden slats. Kora was already sitting up, rubbing her eyes.
"We're here." She nudged my shoulder, her touch soft. Gentle.
"Really? Awesome." My voice still dragged with sleep.
"Zain, wake up. We need to leave before the old man gets impatient."
"Okay, okay. I'm getting up."
I unfolded myself from the wooden bench and jumped out just as the wagon creaked back into motion. The old driver didn't even look back. Kora stretched beside me, pointing toward the walls ahead.
"Hoax Port. Few minutes' walk."
Outside the city walls, a line had already formed—at least thirty people ahead of us. Each one looked different. A woman carrying a spear. A merchant with a cart piled high with food and supplies. A family with children clinging to their parents' cloaks.
I'd never seen a line this long just to enter a city.
"Never knew there'd be a line. Why's that?" I asked.
Kora adjusted her witch hat, glancing toward the gates. "The port is an economic powerhouse. Some nations would love to take it by force. This is where Drakva, the Highlands, and Zendorium all trade peacefully. Everyone has to be checked."
"So the port is its own nation? Or what?"
"It's complicated." She smiled slightly. "But basically, yes. They don't have an official army, so they hire mercenaries to guard the place."
"Can adventurers become mercenaries?" I looked ahead. At the front of the line, a burly man in heavy armor was inspecting people's papers.
Kora nodded. "They can, but the process is complicated. Borik used to be a mercenary before joining the Red Bear Guild. Even I don't fully understand how it works."
Minutes later, we reached the front.
The gates were imposing—thick metal reinforced with wooden beams. Above us, on the walls, two guards aimed crossbows directly at us. Four more stood on the ground, gripping spears and glaives.
The burly man stepped forward. His armor was unlike anything I'd seen—a rhino's head jutted from the center of his chestplate, horns curving outward. His helmet covered his entire face, only tiny eyeholes revealing that someone was inside.
"Drakvans." His voice was deep, demanding attention. "What brings you here?"
Kora produced a small card from her satchel and held it up. "I'm Kora Ursulic. C-rank adventurer. Taking this rookie to the Highlands for his exam. They only happen once a year, so we're in a bit of a rush."
The man took the card, inspected it, then looked at me. Long enough to make me uncomfortable.
Finally: "The ships to the Highlands depart tomorrow morning. I better not see you on the streets after dawn."
He handed the card back and stepped aside. The gate guards lowered their weapons. With a heavy groan, the metal doors swung open.
We walked through.
Hoax Port was nothing like the town in Drakva. Buildings rose two, sometimes three stories high. Signs hung over doorways—a bar, an inn, a dining hall. The streets were lined with merchants selling fish, jewelry, fabrics, things I couldn't name.
The stone road was dirty. Bones. Scraps of cloth. Moss creeping between cracks. Smells I couldn't quite place—salt, smoke, something cooking.
But the people. There were so many people.
Merchants haggling over prices. Children weaving through crowds. Women gossiping outside shops. Adventurers in every direction, each one unique—armor, weapons, cloaks, scars.
This place had life. Density. Layers. Like a city that had grown organically over centuries, each generation building on the last.
I followed Kora through the chaos. She moved with purpose, weaving between bodies like she'd done this a hundred times. Eventually she stopped in front of a building with a sign above the door: Docks Tickets.
Inside, it was packed.
Adventures filled every corner—a tall muscular man in an armored vest with spiked gauntlets, a goblin wrapped in a cloak with three daggers at his belt, a woman with painted scars across her face. Dozens of others, all waiting.
We approached one of the reception desks. The woman behind it had grey skin and purple eyes, her yellow tunic wrinkled from long hours. Piles of books surrounded her like a fortress.
"Good morning." She smiled—friendly, practiced. "How may I serve you?"
Kora pulled a small sack from her satchel. "We need tickets to the Highlands. For me and the big guy." She jerked a thumb toward me.
The receptionist glanced at me, then back at Kora. "That will be four gold coins."
Kora counted out twenty silver coins and slid them across the desk.
While she handled the transaction, I wandered. The building was larger than it looked from outside. Adventurers lounged on benches, leaned against walls, huddled in groups. Each one told a story without speaking.
In the corner, a man lay sprawled on a couch, using his black jacket as a blanket. A white tunic beneath, held by four belts wrapped around his torso. Asleep. Completely at peace.
Guess some are too tired to move. Makes sense.
I turned. Kora was waiting for me near the door, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Everything okay?" I asked as I approached.
She nodded slowly. "I need to buy more fire spell books. And something to read on the voyage. The clerk said it'll take two weeks to reach the Highlands."
"Makes sense. You seem like a bookworm anyway."
"Shut up and follow me."
We walked. My stomach growled—loud enough that Kora heard.
"Perfect timing," I muttered, holding my stomach.
She laughed. "We can eat. I have enough."
We found a food vendor near the market square—a man in a stained vest, roasting chicken over an open flame. The smell hit me before we even reached the counter. Smoke. Spice. Something I couldn't name but desperately wanted.
He spotted us approaching and grinned, wiping his hands on his apron. "What do you need, young man and lady? I have beef bread, chicken bread, or if you're a mad lad..." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Pork bread."
Kora's eyes lit up. "I'll take chicken bread with ringo lettuce and pronato."
I nodded. "Same thing, but beef."
The man moved with practiced efficiency—chopping, assembling, wrapping. His hands never hesitated. Years of muscle memory.
Minutes later, he slid our meals across the counter. My sandwich was warm in my hands—seasoned beef tucked into fresh bread, topped with crisp lettuce and slices of blue tomato. Pronato, she'd called it.
I took a bite. Closed my eyes. Just... enjoyed.
We walked toward the library, eating as we went. Kora talked between bites.
"Three books. One spell book for me. One about adventurers—general knowledge. And one history book. For context."
I nodded, mouth full.
By dusk, we'd found an inn. Small, warm, smelled like bread and woodsmoke. We sat by the fire with bowls of beans and more bread, packing our things for the morning.
"Tomorrow. Before sunrise." Kora counted on her fingers. "We need to be at the docks."
"I'll be ready." I tore off another piece of bread. "It's weird, though."
"What is?"
"Places like this." I gestured vaguely at the room, the fire, the people laughing at nearby tables. "In a world this dangerous... somehow there are still towns. Markets. Inns. People just... living."
Kora laughed, a strand of ginger hair falling across her forehead. She pushed it back absently. "This is still civilization, Zain. Even in brutal climates, people find a way. Don't they do that in your world?"
I thought about it. About cities built in deserts, on mountains, in places that should be uninhabitable. About people who called those places home.
"Yeah. They do." I met her eyes. "My world compared to yours is like heaven compared to hell, though."
She laughed again—bright, genuine. "Then why are you still here?"
I didn't have an answer. Not a good one.
But sitting here, across from her, firelight catching her green eyes, bread in my hands and a full stomach...
Maybe I didn't need one.
We talked through the night. About nothing. About everything. About the voyage ahead and the exams waiting and the Highlands we'd never seen.
Just two people, enjoying each other's company.
For now, that was enough.