He needed to move. Klen. The Calling Ceremony. The words echoed in his mind, a mantra. He stood, testing his still-sore arm, and began to walk, pushing aside the lingering unease. Each step was a commitment, a defiant stride towards the unknown.
A couple of hours later, Adrain crested a hill, and the sight before him stole his breath. It was Klen, the earldom he'd been told to seek, but it was unlike any settlement he could have imagined. At its heart stood a colossal structure, a cathedral-like edifice that seemed to touch the sky, its spires reaching towards the distant sun. Attached to this central building, almost like extensions, were four massive structures resembling Viking longhouses, their dark wood and intricate carvings hinting at ancient craftsmanship. Around these primary buildings, a myriad of smaller structures, some one story, some two, clustered organically, forming what looked like a sprawling, yet harmonious community. Every building, from the grand cathedral to the humblest dwelling, was adorned with beautiful, luminous trees, their leaves shimmering with the same ethereal glow he'd seen since his rebirth. He wondered, with a fresh surge of awe, what wonders this place would hold when night fully descended, and the organic light truly came alive.
He felt a prickle of anticipation, a nervous energy that vibrated through his new body. This was it. This was the next step. "Brace yourself, Adrain," he murmured, the words a low growl in his throat. "Whatever lies within these walls, whatever the Calling Ceremony demands, you will face it. It's time to start finding answers." He took a deep breath, the scent of the luminous flora filling his lungs, and began his descent towards the sprawling earldom.
He continued his descent, the awe of Klen slowly giving way to a more pragmatic assessment of his surroundings. He found a well-worn path, wide enough for several carts, leading directly towards the sprawling settlement. "If I follow this, I might find a gate," he mused, the thought bringing a faint sense of direction to his still-reeling mind.
As he drew closer, what he found both confirmed and utterly defied his expectations. There was indeed a gate, an imposing archway of dark, polished wood and shimmering, luminous stone, intricately carved with symbols he didn't recognize. Through this grand entrance flowed a continuous stream of life. But it wasn't the gate itself that confused him; it was the scene around it.
A myriad of species walked alongside and through the gate. Tall, graceful beings with bark-like skin and leaves for hair conversed with stocky, horned figures whose expressions were as unyielding as the mountains they seemed to embody. Scaled humanoids, their skin glistening with elemental energy, moved with a fluid grace, occasionally gesturing with hands that sparked with faint static. And then there were the carts, pulled by beasts unlike anything he had ever imagined. Some were massive, reptilian creatures, their scales rippling with muscle. Others were bird-like, with long, powerful legs and sharp, intelligent eyes, their feathered bodies surprisingly strong. He even saw some that appeared to have wings, folded neatly against their backs, designed for flight, yet they patiently pulled their loads through the gate.
But the truly baffling thing was the utter absence of a wall. A gate, yes, but no defensive barriers extending from it, no fortifications to protect the city. Just the open landscape stretching away on either side. He watched a winged creature, clearly capable of soaring, patiently walk its cart through the archway, just like every other being. "A gate, but no wall?" Adrain murmured aloud, the contradiction gnawing at him. "Things that can fly, but have to walk through a gate? What the hell is going on here?" The question hung in the air, unanswered, as he reached the threshold of Klen, the anomaly a stark reminder of how little he truly understood of this new world.
He continued through the gate, the strange absence of a wall still perplexing him, when his gaze was drawn upward. At the very peak of the colossal cathedral, a soft, pulsating energy emanated, spreading outwards like an invisible umbrella, encasing the entire earldom. It wasn't a solid barrier, but a shimmering distortion in the air, a visible hum that radiated from the spires. He realized, with a jolt, that this energy shield connected seamlessly to the luminous stone of the archway he had just passed through, forming an impenetrable dome over Klen. This was the wall. A wall of pure energy, blocking both air and land travel, making the gate the sole point of entry and exit. It explained the patience of the winged beasts, the deliberate flow of traffic. The sheer audacity of it, the blend of architecture and magic, left him speechless.
He wandered into the bustling streets, his gaze sweeping over the vibrant tapestry of Klen. The sheer diversity was staggering: the graceful Eldrin with their leafy hair browsing stalls next to burly, stone-skinned folk bartering loudly, while scaled beings with glowing eyes examined intricate wares. What struck him most, beyond the incredible array of species, was the complete absence of squalor. There were no beggars, no dilapidated structures, no signs of scarcity. Every individual, regardless of their race or stature, appeared well-fed, clothed, and purposeful. Even the animals pulling carts looked healthy and well-cared for. It was a stark contrast to the cities he'd known, a world where poverty seemed to simply not exist.
As he moved deeper into the settlement, the buildings grew taller, more ornate, and the pathways widened into cobbled plazas. The air filled with a symphony of sounds: the melodic calls of vendors, the murmur of countless languages, the rhythmic clanging of a distant smithy, and the sweet, pervasive scent of unknown flowers mingling with roasted meats and spices. He realized he must be nearing the central hub, for here the density of merchant stalls increased dramatically. Goods of every conceivable type were on display, spilling out from brightly colored awnings: shimmering fabrics woven from unseen fibers, strange fruits in every hue, intricate carvings of luminous wood and stone, weapons that hummed with a faint energy, and small, exotic creatures chirping in ornate cages. He felt a growing sense of wonder, tempered by his usual caution. This place was a marvel, but it was also entirely alien.
His eyes, scanning the vibrant marketplace, landed on a stall that immediately arrested his attention. Laid out on a rough-hewn wooden table, amidst an array of bone carvings and polished teeth, was something strikingly familiar: a tusk. It was unmistakably similar to the one that had ripped his arm, though smaller, polished to a gleam. A shiver ran down his spine, a visceral memory of the fight, but also a flicker of something else—recognition. This was a trophy, perhaps, from a creature like the one he had slain. Without conscious thought, he found himself walking towards the stall, drawn by an instinctual curiosity.