Johara's Choice

Chapter 4

Erik trekked over a hill and came to a standstill to appreciate the vista. A wide river separated him from a hodge-podge of red and yellow buildings, and beyond the slanted grey-brown roofs and sweeping towers, he caught a glimpse of sapphire. The ocean was still too far off, for he couldn't smell it, but the breeze ruffling his hair was sign enough of its proximity.

The city was grand, beautiful like none other. Back home, everyone lauded Danaya, but apart from the centre where the Seat of the Patriarch stood, there was only squalor. Here, he could already see the upkeep from a distance. There didn't appear to be any slums, and the many turrets drew his eye upwards. Perhaps this was just the change of scenery he needed to find the spark of the old self he'd lost. He hoped spending time in Erdalbad would make for an uplifting and healing experience so he could actually leave behind the nightmares and tainted memories.

The architecture was also new and tantalisingly different. Domes he knew of, but these were more onion-shaped than he was used to. He could see several buildings with arches—strange frilled shapes distinguishable even at this distance. Those that stood out reminded him of his mother's crochet work. How could that be constructed of brick and rock?

One building, in particular, lorded it over all the others. It was immense and stood with its head held high above the rest of the city. Erik wondered if it was raised on a hill. It commanded everything around it, regal and imposing, adorned with three towers, the tallest of which swept upwards and drew his eye with a glint of gold at its roof. Beside it stood a second, shorter tower, which shimmered silver and the last one, even shorter than the second, shone with a copper point above the intricate walls beautified with arches, crenellations and embellished balconies.

Erik adjusted the straps on his shoulder to redistribute the weight of all the coins he carried. The chink of the money sang to his right ear, and he wanted so much for it to make him laugh. Three dogs: copper, silver, gold. He looked out over the vista before him. Three towers: gold, silver, copper. What of it?

He tried to push against the indifference as he gazed upon the city. At last, he was at a place filled with life, with kind and friendly people. Here, he could come alive again, and all the horrors of the war would wash away and cease to exist in his remembrance.

As if to make a lie of the wish, Erik's thoughts reminded him of the past several nights spent camping out in the wilderness. Nights troubled by dreams born of the battles he'd witnessed, not to mention the dead weight of the old woman left abandoned to rot far from civilisation. He shuddered and tried to shake the memory of her death stare.

Maybe, with a little time to heal, he could overcome the nightmares and allow the atrocities to fade from his mind. The city beckoned, re-igniting his hope that everything would be easier once he was among the bright, kind folk of Erdalbad.

He breathed deeply. The breeze now carried the slightest hint of salty tang. Need propelled him forwards. Shifting the weight of his haversack again, Erik stretched out the muscles in his back. It was a reminder of his good fortune. He ought to be grateful for it. Was it too much to ask to want to be able to believe in the Dragon's blessings once more?

What he needed was a stiff drink and some diversions. Life would sweep him off his feet again and whirl him in its spirited dance as it had in the past. Living would help him forget the weights shackled to his being or, at the very least, drown them out with laughter.

What laughter? his mind offered unhelpfully.

Erik took the time to transfer some of the gold coins from his haversack to his worn money pouch. He needed to find a good hiding place for his treasures. Perhaps he could bury the wealth out here? Then again, that would require travelling out into these parts every time he ran out of money. And what if he found a ship to take him back home? He shrugged. Somehow it all felt rather pointless.