Golden Gate: New World Front

Chapter 18 - No Better Friend, No Worse Enemy

The city's streets thrummed with activity beneath a relentless sun, as carriages and weary refugees shuffled toward the grandeur of the capital's towering walls. Standing thirty feet tall, these gates served as the singular passage into the heart of the kingdom, bustling with the continuous flow of people—a stark testament to the chaos wrought by the ongoing war in the northern territories.

The heat was oppressive, with vapours dancing visibly in the thick air, adding a layer of misery for those queued in wait. Some stood for mere hours, while others, overtaken by despair, remained for days, their desperation to find refuge within the city's fortified embrace growing more palpable by the moment.

"Single file!" a guard's voice thundered, cutting through the muggy air as he motioned the exhausted travellers forward, their faces etched with anxiety as they inched closer to the safety of the Elijahian stronghold. The procedure was tedious, the line jerking to a stop now and again as each person faced the scrutinous gaze of the vigilant gate guards.

This unending cycle drained the spirits of the gatekeepers, their expressions clouded with irritation under the scorching sun. Sweat streamed down their foreheads, a clear sign of the sweltering conditions that bore down on them. Yet, despite the intense discomfort, they stood resolute, dedicating endless hours to the protection of the city gates.

"My shift's just about up," grumbled one guard, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I'm off to grab some water, beat back some of this damn heat."

His fellow nodded gratefully. "Grab some buckwheat too, if you can," he said with a hopeful grin. "Feels like forever since I ate."

As one guard stayed vigilant until his relief arrived, the travellers continued to pass through smoothly. The gatekeepers conducted their inspections with practiced efficiency, keeping the flow steady with little cause for concern.

However, even in the monotony, the guard couldn't help but be drawn to the whispers circulating around the capital. Rumours of a mysterious figure clad in strange garb and mentions of an enigmatic entity known as the "United States" stirred the air with excitement. It appeared the nobility might have secured potential allies from this unknown land, offering a glimmer of hope against the dark tide of war from the north.

Curiosity piqued, and the guard mulled over these tales of unexpected allies emerging from the fringes. A surge of anticipation washed over him as he awaited the chance to learn more about these intriguing newcomers.

The gate guards maintained their diligent pace until the entrance of large wagons, their impressive size drawing immediate attention. An elf stepped forward from one of these vehicles, presenting documents to the guards before being allowed passage through the formidable gates.

The relative calm was abruptly broken by a loud, foreboding sound emanating from beyond the queue. The guards ceased their inspections, their focus snapped to the source of the noise. Among the startled refugees, a figure was seen sprinting toward the gate with urgent speed.

As the chaos unfolded, some braced for an attack, their senses sharpening in anticipation of danger. One guard, quick to react, took initiative, ready to confront the situation. His colleague, just returning with water and buckwheat, stopped dead in his tracks, bewildered by the scene. "What's happening?!" he cried out, his face etched with confusion and alarm.

Though words were spare, the first guard swiftly grabbed his partner, ushering them both toward the commotion at the front gate. Onlookers, gripped by uncertainty and fear, watched intently. The figure racing towards them, initially a blur of motion, gradually became clearer—revealing not a threat, but another elf. This unexpected sight left many shocked and puzzled, but also slightly relieved as the true nature of the visitor became apparent.