Chapter 37 Travelers, welcome

Chapter 37 Travelers, welcome

💥 ELIAS 💥

It was undeniably sticking to me. The shapeless body with the weirdest head, his words stung me and made me think twice if I was maltreating her…if she wasn't the one maltreating herself or if she wasn't the one maltreating me. Because I've come to realization that I am at their mercy. I need to plead with spirits of all kinds and be at my best behavior.

Those definitely were not traits of a king. The great king of Aethelgard was slowly losing his title. Reminiscing about the fact that I am a king, I realized there's been no news from Commandant Gerald. He said he'd be joining…oh.

It dawned on me that we didn't travel like we intended. We were transported, at the thought of being transported over to this weird land which I believe to be the border of the Still City,my eyes rolled over to Seraphina.

She stood side by side with that weird creature, her stance telling me how guilty she was. Looking at her,my eyes went over to her hand. In her palm, she cupped the lamp tightly. Under the glowing moon, I saw her knuckles turning pale.

Again, the word rings loud in my ears

I exhaled slowly. The heat rising from the soil suffocated me. The afternoon had passed yet the soil was warm and burning.

Then —

“Are you travelers in our land?”

The voice came from behind us, soft and appealing. It broke the silence between us.

It was like the scrape of an old door opening after years of silence— years of being locked.

Both of us turned.

An elderly woman stood a few paces away. Her form was bent slightly with age, but her eyes gleamed clear beneath the hood of her woven shawl.

The breeze carried the faint scent of sage from her garments — a smell too familiar to belong to this empty wilderness.

The moon poured light on our bodies making every movement of ourselves known to each other.

Where had she come from? I hadn’t heard footsteps. I hadn’t even sensed her approach

We both remained silent as if waiting for the other to speak. I was about speaking knowing fully well Seraphina might go ahead and reveal to the elderly woman who couldn't yet be trusted our deal with this City.

But then, she reacted first. She stepped forward, her expression was gentle but wary. “We didn’t mean to intrude,” she said, ready to continue, “we are here…. ”

I quickly stepped in, “We are here for business…we only need a way out of here.”

The woman’s gaze shifted between us, then softened. Her lips curved in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “The night here bites deeper than the sun’s heat. You can rest under my roof.”

Seraphina looked over at me then nodded. “Thank you,” she said, voice filled with genuine gratitude.

I frowned, glancing at her. She was too quick to trust, too quick to follow a voice that could as well belong to another trick of the lamp. But the look in her eyes — that strange calm, almost reverence — told me she had already decided.

The old woman turned and began to walk.

“Come,” she called softly over her shoulder.

Seraphina followed first. I clenched my fist, frowning from the irritation again. My heart ran cold as I saw the elderly woman and Seraphina get along easily. It made me wonder if that was how they behaved in their kingdom… if that was how they trust easily. If their kingdom becomes ruined, there's no way I'm gonna be surprised.

I trailed behind, my boots sinking into the sand that — strangely — no longer felt endless. As we walked, the ground beneath us began to change. What had been shifting dunes moments ago now solidified into a faint, winding path — stone, cracked and half-buried. It twisted through the golden plain as though it had been waiting for our steps to remember its purpose.

I slowed for a moment, looking down. The stones were real — cool under the heat, etched faintly with markings. Runes? No. Too old to read, too faded to interpret.

Seraphina’s voice drifted back to me as she spoke with the old woman.

“So this land… is it part of the Still City?”

The woman chuckled, the sound brittle as dry reeds. “It was. Once. The outer rim, before it was claimed. Few walk here now. The magic that sleeps beneath it is restless — it calls only to those it remembers. And this place was claimed because of its highly acknowledged magic.”

Seraphina murmured something I couldn’t hear, her tone soft. They fell into an easy rhythm of conversation,asking questions, small laughter, a kind of connection that unsettled me more than comforted me. I couldn’t bring myself to listen closely.

I watched instead.

The horizon was shifting subtly, impossibly. Where before there had been only endless sand, now we'd begun seeing new things of different shapes. Low walls, half-crumbled. Broken pillars leaning like tired soldiers. And in the distance, the faint glow of lanterns.

Lanterns.

But as we walked further, I saw more. The faint silhouettes of roofs, clay houses, and narrow paths connecting them. A village.

Was this the said Still City?

The closer we came, the more I realized how alive it was. The air carried the smell of burning wood, of roasting meat, of people living. Voices murmured faintly, laughter echoing from far corners. And yet — no footsteps but ours stirred the dust.

It was nighttime, and the children had returned to their parents. Mothers have returned to their home and husbands have gone back to their wives. It showed how early these people that live here retire to their house.

As I moved behind them, something curled on my skin. Like it flew from nowhere and attached itself to my skin. I looked down to my hand, but it was nothing.

I saw Seraphina slow beside the woman, her voice could only be heard faintly, as though the same realization was dawning on her too.

The old woman said nothing more. She simply kept walking.

The path curved one last time, and then we stood before a wooden gate.

My breath caught.

No.

It couldn’t be.

It was the same. Down to the last detail.

The same gate. The same rough beams, bound by rope and iron nails. The same faint carving at the top — a sigil I had seen earlier in Garin’s yard.

Even the smell — firewood smoke and herbs.

My pulse thudded in my chest. I looked at Seraphina, and her expression mirrored mine — disbelief, fear, and something else. Recognition.

The woman stepped aside, pushing the gate open gently. It was the exact movement that Garin made when he pushed open the door. The same expression on her face. It creaked, exactly as it had before. “Come in,” she said softly.

I couldn't bring myself to move as I was still caught off in everything. I turned around to check our surrounding, if it was the same as the village we left off. I just still couldn't believe what was happening and Seraphina, the knower of all things, was as shocked as me.

We stared at each other.

Then

We stepped through.

And there they were. Right in the compound, the scene just keeps replaying. It was as if telling the same old stories you've always heard. Or watching the same performer who lacks skill perform everyday.

Garin.

Liora.

The children.

All of them.

Garin was crouched near a small firepit, turning a skewer of stag meat over an open flame. There was no need for an introduction again. I knew who they were. But do they know us?

The scent was strong, wild and smoky that it just kept poking my nose as if calling my attention. It kept sticking around me and the wind blew the scent around me until the realization hit me once again.

This was the same stag meat I had slaughtered. It was cooked in my presence.

I didn't know what to believe. Was this how the day is going to keep replaying, or is it us? The newcomer in the land?

It was in some history books that some land did react to new presence in its land. So was it the same happening here though I had never heard of it and I feel it lacked reality.

Liora knelt beside him, her hands moving with practiced grace as she added herbs to a bowl. The two children — a boy and a girl, barely older than ten — chased each other around the yard, laughing. But as they saw the elderly woman who I suppose to be their parent's mother, they stopped as a sign of respect towards her.

The act of the kid running after each other was exactly as before.

Liora looked up first, her eyes lighting with the same warmth as if she had never met us before. “Oh, travelers!” she exclaimed. “Welcome.”

My heart gave a single hard thud.

The same words.