| Day 1: Depart from the northern city, passing through rolling hills dotted with small villages. Stop for the night at a rustic inn on the edge of the forest. Day 2: Continue through dense, mist-filled forests. Cross over several fast-flowing rivers via narrow stone bridges. Set up camp for the night in a meadow surrounded by tall trees. Day 3: Travel through a vast grassland with occasional clusters of boulders and rocky outcroppings. Keep a watchful eye for any dangerous creatures that roam the area. Arrive at a fortified town in the late afternoon and spend the night in its sturdy inn. Day 4: Make the journey through treacherous wild-lands, carefully winding through steep, narrow valleys. Spot majestic eagles flying overhead, and perhaps even the occasional harpy in the distance over the distant world-tree. Stop for the night at a cliffside monastery, where the travelers can rest and seek solace in the sacred halls. Day 5: Descend from the hills and enter the great forest. Travel by day, seeking refuge from the harsh sun in the shade. Stop for the night at a lake, where one can refresh themselves in the cool waters and rest under the stars. Day 6: Continue through the great forest, watching for any signs of danger and carefully conserving their supplies. Reach the edge of a great forest in the late afternoon and set up camp for the night. Day 7: Follow the lake's shoreline, perhaps stopping to catch some fish for dinner or rest in a hidden cove. Reach the southern shore in the evening and set up camp for the night. Day 8: The final stretch of the journey brings the convoy through rolling hills dotted with small, picturesque villages. Reach the Tower of Isaiah by mid-afternoon and find sanctuary within its walls, where they will be greeted by the faithful and can offer their prayers to the deity they have come to venerate. |
~ A Tourist’s Travel Itinerary from the North to the Tower of Isaiah, via the Scenic Route by Anqa
| ~ [Deutero] ~ |
| Human, Male, TRUE HERO |
| Location: The Road to the South |
Within one of the carriages, the priest and the hero are seen conversing with one another as the flickering light from the many lanterns that are fastened to the wood illuminates their features -- very different from one another's. The eyes of the priest are closed as he prays to Isaiah now and then in between, his lips are moving in a silent motion as he utters his petition to the heavens, asking for their safe arrival in the south. As the man loses himself in prayer again, breaking their conversation, the 'hero', as they call him, Deutero, remains unmoved as he surveys the pitch-black landscape beyond the window, intently scanning it for any indication of the path that lies ahead or any odd dangers.
He had to stop riding the anqa, as his mount was having trouble with his weight. It’s not very heroic to talk about, but apparently, when one gains enough strength points, one puts on a significant amount of muscle. This raises one’s weight to something far higher than a mount is, in some cases, able to carry. War anqas are bred for this purpose, but as the hero… well… his stats surpass those of a normal person’s, somewhat significantly.
The procession of carriages jolts and jostles them as it goes over a bump in the road, which causes the constructs to lurch. The hero's hand moves to his weapon involuntarily, as he almost feels like something is attacking them. But nothing comes. The priest opens his eyes and immediately places a reassuring hand on the hero's arm after picking up on his sense of unease. The old man shakes his head. "Do not fear, my son. Isaiah will lead us in safety." The procession continues through the night, with the darkness acting as a curtain around the convoy as it travels. While the priest continues to pray for their protection, Deutero maintains vigilance and keeps a watchful eye out for any indication of impending danger. They have no way of knowing what perils lie in wait for them, but they have faith that Isaiah will guide them through the night in safety. That’s what the holy-men say, at least. He’s still a bit unsure of the whole ‘Isaiah’ thing himself.
But it means a lot to these people, and they’ve been good to him, so here he is.
Deutero gets up from his seat and moves toward the window of the swaying carriage, causing it to tilt to one side from his weight. He glances out into the darkness, leaning out and spots the teeny-tiny figure of the fairy, Marjatta, sitting atop the moving roof. She deftly maintains her equilibrium despite the jolting motion of the carriage, thanks to the delicate wings that she possesses, constantly fluttering so that she stays relatively balanced where she rests.
"Hey, aren’t you cold up there?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Come on in." Given her tiny size, it's presumable that she has body-heat issues outdoors. Especially since it's gotten so cold here, now after days of no sunlight.
Marjatta shakes her head, not even looking down at him as she instead watches the world develop in front of her. Even if there is only darkness to be seen in every direction, she’s mesmerized by it. "No, thank you," replies Marjatta eventually, in a kind and melodic tone of voice. "I'd much rather stay out here," she says, her eyes darting over the shadowy world that surrounds them, which is lit only by the lamps that are carried by the caravan.
Deutero nods, not too surprised. She has never been successful in escaping the mountain in the past, given that she was bound to live atop it forever as a fairy. This must be a very crazy experience for her, being out here in the world like this. In a way, he sympathises.
He watches Marjatta, who continues to take in their surroundings with the wonder and curiosity of a child. The look on her face and the ease of her posture breaks the illusion of the person he had held her to be — rigid and by the books. In spite of Marjatta's initial rejection to come in, he instead maneuvers his way out of the carriage window and awkwardly climbs onto the roof to join the fairy there, almost causing the whole construct to dangerously tip over, the priest inside crying in surprise, until he finds his balance and the carriage lands back on its wheels. He does his best to ignore her laughter as she points at him.
They continue their journey toward the south. They watch the world go by, the cool night winds blowing over their hair as they do so. Deutero tunes out the murmuring prayers that are coming from below them. He gets that he's among holy people and all, but they really take the whole praying thing seriously. He’s plenty content to sit and bask in the fairy's company, watching the world as it rushes by them into the unfathomable depths of the night, despite the fact that they are getting closer and closer to the uncertain outcome that awaits them.
"So?" he asks, looking at the fairy. "What’re you looking at?"
She shrugs. "Just, you know… everything." Marjatta turns her head, looking to the left and then towards the right. "There’s… a lot more of it than I expected."
Deutero nods. "There really is a lot of everything," agrees the man, looking out together with her at the everything all around them. It's somewhat hard to see, given the total darkness. But somehow, the black paint that covers all of existence makes its more mysterious and intriguing to look at than it would have been in daylight. It's not like he's seen what this world really looks like either, so in a way he kind of gets what she means. It all seems so new. The world unfolds in front of them like an unending vista, presumably consisting of undulating hills covered with wildflowers and gnarled trees that reach up into the dark clouds. The moon illuminates the landscape below with a metallic sheen, giving it a look that is between gray and black in tone. Her eyes never get any smaller as she clearly loses herself in the sight of her escape.
He doesn’t know much himself of the world as a whole, his old one or this new one, but the few things he does recognize on their way he describes to her. Marjatta pays close attention, taking in as much information as she can, whether out of interest for the knowledge itself or for the conversation is impossible to say. It’s nice in a way, being the teacher for once. But as they continue their journey, the topics of conversation begin to shift away from the world around them and toward more introspective matters, as tends to happen when one talks long enough at nighttime. Marjatta shares with Deutero her experiences as a fairy, including her childish phase as a young girl, back when she still allegedly had a ‘carefree personality', and a 'joy for life’, as she calls it. Deutero smiles and nods along as she speaks, somewhat dreading where the conversation will move to once her turn is over.
Being a fairy sounds really fun, until you actually understand your situation. Then it isn’t fun much, if ever again.
The wheels of the carriages can be heard grinding over the gravel surface of the road as the caravan makes its way across the hills, dipping down into the valleys, then climbing back up again.
As the carriage continues to move forward, Deutero sits still, concentrating intently on the scenery that passes before him. Marjatta, the inquisitive fairy, stares up at him with curiosity, clearly waiting to find out more information about him now that she had shared her half of the conversation. "Deutero" asks Marjatta in a voice that is unusually soft spoken, pushing him since he clearly isn't going to talk by himself. "Tell me about you," the fairy asks. "You before this," says the fairy, gesturing to the world.
Deutero reflects on his previous life, the period before he was reborn in this world, his demeanor darkens somewhat as he casts a distant and worried gaze towards Marjatta, glancing down at her. He opens his mouth to talk and then stops himself, trying again a second time a minute later. "I prefer not to talk about it."
Marjatta furrows her brow. "Come on. Don’t be like that," says the fairy, knocking on the roof of the carriage with a small hand. "This spot here?" she asks. "This is a judgment free zone. Promise. Inside, not so much," says the fairy. "But on the roof? It's just you and me, champ." She looks ahead. "Oh. Duck."
Deutero blinks, quickly dropping down onto his back.
— A branch from a tree the caravan passes by undercuts through the air where he was sitting, moving right over his torso as they pass under it.
"Quick learner," says Marjatta, knocking against his chest.
Deutero sits back upright. "I didn’t want to get quacked at again," he replies. The man turns his head, looking out into the night, as he still hasn’t answered her question. But he sort of doesn’t want to. It makes him feel bad, honestly. Being a hero, 'the' hero, carries a lot of weight in this world and honestly, he hasn't really earned it. He just kind of got it, for some reason.
The man turns his head back, looking at the fairy who has turned to the side, leaning with her back against him as she stares out into the distance, towards the part of the world that is most brightly bathed in moonlight.
For her, life was a prison. She could never leave the mountain, ever, because she would die — as is the fate of any fairy who tries. Yet to survive on the mountain is also a horrifically difficult task for a fairy. Many of them don’t survive long, and not just because of the elements or monsters, but because of people. People who would crush them, capture them, and hurt them. Oftentimes, for no other reason than the fact that they’re small creatures who can't do anything about it.
Not all of them have the luck to find a safe place like she did, and even then, with her good fortunes, her life was in its totality confined to one area forever, until she would one day die. A prison.
The carriage continues to move on as he stares, lost in thought. When he contemplates the life he had abandoned and the one he is currently following, he experiences a broad range of feelings inside of himself and the strongest among them is shame. As they travel through the night on the roadways, the two individuals remain silent and watch the world pass by under them. Marjatta turns her head around, looking back up at him. After a moment of hesitation, he opens his mouth again, trying to find the right words.
"I fucked it up," he says, finally getting to the point. Deutero doesn’t look at her, since he doesn’t want to meet her eyes; instead, he stares back out ahead of them, towards the distant star on the horizon that marks Isaiah.
The truth is, in his old life, he wasn’t much of anybody, really. He had the opportunities in life to live bravely, to become something, to push hard forward so that his body and spirit could both breathe unto the dawn of a better life. But instead, he didn’t.
Instead, he stayed in the dark, literally, in his room every day for days on end. Those days turned into weeks, those weeks into months, and then, somehow, despite the impossibility of it, those months turned into years. Full years of… nothing. just a mindless, droning existence in a prison that he himself had chosen to stay in. He could have changed his life; he could have tried to be better, but he didn’t.
Instead, somehow, he has this opportunity now. It is an opportunity that he didn’t earn, one that he doesn’t deserve, and one that people who actually do, like Marjatta, usually never get.
And that’s why he feels bad telling her about it.
A small hand holds itself against his forearm. "Don’t worry about it, big guy," says the fairy. "If there’s one thing that I’ve learned," she says. "It’s that, no matter what, everybody fucks up their life eventually."
He sighs, exhaling a breath that somehow carried a lot of pressure with it, his shoulders drooping as he decides to make a change for real. Not a change that comes forced on him from the universe of this world or his old one, but a chance he himself makes for the sake of himself. Deutero lifts a finger, softly placing it on top of the back of her hand. "Wanna do better this time?" he asks, looking at the fairy, the moonlight cutting through her hair.
She stiffens up, looking away for a moment, before then turning back up toward him. "Yeah," replies Marjatta, sealing the simple promise.
| Day 1: Depart from the northern city, passing through rolling hills dotted with small villages. Stop for the night at a rustic inn on the edge of the forest. Day 2: Continue through dense, mist-filled forests. Cross over several fast-flowing rivers via narrow stone bridges. Set up camp for the night in a meadow surrounded by tall trees. Day 3: Travel through a vast grassland with occasional clusters of boulders and rocky outcroppings. Keep a watchful eye for any dangerous creatures that roam the area. Arrive at a fortified town in the late afternoon and spend the night in its sturdy inn. Day 4: Make the journey through treacherous wild-lands, carefully winding through steep, narrow valleys. Spot majestic eagles flying overhead, and perhaps even the occasional harpy in the distance over the distant world-tree. Stop for the night at a cliffside monastery, where the travelers can rest and seek solace in the sacred halls. Day 5: Descend from the hills and enter the great forest. Travel by day, seeking refuge from the harsh sun in the shade. Stop for the night at a lake, where one can refresh themselves in the cool waters and rest under the stars. Day 6: Continue through the great forest, watching for any signs of danger and carefully conserving their supplies. Reach the edge of a great forest in the late afternoon and set up camp for the night. Day 7: Follow the lake's shoreline, perhaps stopping to catch some fish for dinner or rest in a hidden cove. Reach the southern shore in the evening and set up camp for the night. Day 8: The final stretch of the journey brings the convoy through rolling hills dotted with small, picturesque villages. Reach the Tower of Isaiah by mid-afternoon and find sanctuary within its walls, where they will be greeted by the faithful and can offer their prayers to the deity they have come to venerate. |
~ A Tourist’s Travel Itinerary from the North to the Tower of Isaiah, via the Scenic Route by Anqa
| ~ [Deutero] ~ |
| Human, Male, TRUE HERO |
| Location: The Road to the South |
Within one of the carriages, the priest and the hero are seen conversing with one another as the flickering light from the many lanterns that are fastened to the wood illuminates their features -- very different from one another's. The eyes of the priest are closed as he prays to Isaiah now and then in between, his lips are moving in a silent motion as he utters his petition to the heavens, asking for their safe arrival in the south. As the man loses himself in prayer again, breaking their conversation, the 'hero', as they call him, Deutero, remains unmoved as he surveys the pitch-black landscape beyond the window, intently scanning it for any indication of the path that lies ahead or any odd dangers.
He had to stop riding the anqa, as his mount was having trouble with his weight. It’s not very heroic to talk about, but apparently, when one gains enough strength points, one puts on a significant amount of muscle. This raises one’s weight to something far higher than a mount is, in some cases, able to carry. War anqas are bred for this purpose, but as the hero… well… his stats surpass those of a normal person’s, somewhat significantly.
The procession of carriages jolts and jostles them as it goes over a bump in the road, which causes the constructs to lurch. The hero's hand moves to his weapon involuntarily, as he almost feels like something is attacking them. But nothing comes. The priest opens his eyes and immediately places a reassuring hand on the hero's arm after picking up on his sense of unease. The old man shakes his head. "Do not fear, my son. Isaiah will lead us in safety." The procession continues through the night, with the darkness acting as a curtain around the convoy as it travels. While the priest continues to pray for their protection, Deutero maintains vigilance and keeps a watchful eye out for any indication of impending danger. They have no way of knowing what perils lie in wait for them, but they have faith that Isaiah will guide them through the night in safety. That’s what the holy-men say, at least. He’s still a bit unsure of the whole ‘Isaiah’ thing himself.
But it means a lot to these people, and they’ve been good to him, so here he is.
Deutero gets up from his seat and moves toward the window of the swaying carriage, causing it to tilt to one side from his weight. He glances out into the darkness, leaning out and spots the teeny-tiny figure of the fairy, Marjatta, sitting atop the moving roof. She deftly maintains her equilibrium despite the jolting motion of the carriage, thanks to the delicate wings that she possesses, constantly fluttering so that she stays relatively balanced where she rests.
"Hey, aren’t you cold up there?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Come on in." Given her tiny size, it's presumable that she has body-heat issues outdoors. Especially since it's gotten so cold here, now after days of no sunlight.
Marjatta shakes her head, not even looking down at him as she instead watches the world develop in front of her. Even if there is only darkness to be seen in every direction, she’s mesmerized by it. "No, thank you," replies Marjatta eventually, in a kind and melodic tone of voice. "I'd much rather stay out here," she says, her eyes darting over the shadowy world that surrounds them, which is lit only by the lamps that are carried by the caravan.
Deutero nods, not too surprised. She has never been successful in escaping the mountain in the past, given that she was bound to live atop it forever as a fairy. This must be a very crazy experience for her, being out here in the world like this. In a way, he sympathises.
He watches Marjatta, who continues to take in their surroundings with the wonder and curiosity of a child. The look on her face and the ease of her posture breaks the illusion of the person he had held her to be — rigid and by the books. In spite of Marjatta's initial rejection to come in, he instead maneuvers his way out of the carriage window and awkwardly climbs onto the roof to join the fairy there, almost causing the whole construct to dangerously tip over, the priest inside crying in surprise, until he finds his balance and the carriage lands back on its wheels. He does his best to ignore her laughter as she points at him.
They continue their journey toward the south. They watch the world go by, the cool night winds blowing over their hair as they do so. Deutero tunes out the murmuring prayers that are coming from below them. He gets that he's among holy people and all, but they really take the whole praying thing seriously. He’s plenty content to sit and bask in the fairy's company, watching the world as it rushes by them into the unfathomable depths of the night, despite the fact that they are getting closer and closer to the uncertain outcome that awaits them.
"So?" he asks, looking at the fairy. "What’re you looking at?"
She shrugs. "Just, you know… everything." Marjatta turns her head, looking to the left and then towards the right. "There’s… a lot more of it than I expected."
Deutero nods. "There really is a lot of everything," agrees the man, looking out together with her at the everything all around them. It's somewhat hard to see, given the total darkness. But somehow, the black paint that covers all of existence makes its more mysterious and intriguing to look at than it would have been in daylight. It's not like he's seen what this world really looks like either, so in a way he kind of gets what she means. It all seems so new. The world unfolds in front of them like an unending vista, presumably consisting of undulating hills covered with wildflowers and gnarled trees that reach up into the dark clouds. The moon illuminates the landscape below with a metallic sheen, giving it a look that is between gray and black in tone. Her eyes never get any smaller as she clearly loses herself in the sight of her escape.
He doesn’t know much himself of the world as a whole, his old one or this new one, but the few things he does recognize on their way he describes to her. Marjatta pays close attention, taking in as much information as she can, whether out of interest for the knowledge itself or for the conversation is impossible to say. It’s nice in a way, being the teacher for once. But as they continue their journey, the topics of conversation begin to shift away from the world around them and toward more introspective matters, as tends to happen when one talks long enough at nighttime. Marjatta shares with Deutero her experiences as a fairy, including her childish phase as a young girl, back when she still allegedly had a ‘carefree personality', and a 'joy for life’, as she calls it. Deutero smiles and nods along as she speaks, somewhat dreading where the conversation will move to once her turn is over.
Being a fairy sounds really fun, until you actually understand your situation. Then it isn’t fun much, if ever again.
The wheels of the carriages can be heard grinding over the gravel surface of the road as the caravan makes its way across the hills, dipping down into the valleys, then climbing back up again.
As the carriage continues to move forward, Deutero sits still, concentrating intently on the scenery that passes before him. Marjatta, the inquisitive fairy, stares up at him with curiosity, clearly waiting to find out more information about him now that she had shared her half of the conversation. "Deutero" asks Marjatta in a voice that is unusually soft spoken, pushing him since he clearly isn't going to talk by himself. "Tell me about you," the fairy asks. "You before this," says the fairy, gesturing to the world.
Deutero reflects on his previous life, the period before he was reborn in this world, his demeanor darkens somewhat as he casts a distant and worried gaze towards Marjatta, glancing down at her. He opens his mouth to talk and then stops himself, trying again a second time a minute later. "I prefer not to talk about it."
Marjatta furrows her brow. "Come on. Don’t be like that," says the fairy, knocking on the roof of the carriage with a small hand. "This spot here?" she asks. "This is a judgment free zone. Promise. Inside, not so much," says the fairy. "But on the roof? It's just you and me, champ." She looks ahead. "Oh. Duck."
Deutero blinks, quickly dropping down onto his back.
— A branch from a tree the caravan passes by undercuts through the air where he was sitting, moving right over his torso as they pass under it.
"Quick learner," says Marjatta, knocking against his chest.
Deutero sits back upright. "I didn’t want to get quacked at again," he replies. The man turns his head, looking out into the night, as he still hasn’t answered her question. But he sort of doesn’t want to. It makes him feel bad, honestly. Being a hero, 'the' hero, carries a lot of weight in this world and honestly, he hasn't really earned it. He just kind of got it, for some reason.
The man turns his head back, looking at the fairy who has turned to the side, leaning with her back against him as she stares out into the distance, towards the part of the world that is most brightly bathed in moonlight.
For her, life was a prison. She could never leave the mountain, ever, because she would die — as is the fate of any fairy who tries. Yet to survive on the mountain is also a horrifically difficult task for a fairy. Many of them don’t survive long, and not just because of the elements or monsters, but because of people. People who would crush them, capture them, and hurt them. Oftentimes, for no other reason than the fact that they’re small creatures who can't do anything about it.
Not all of them have the luck to find a safe place like she did, and even then, with her good fortunes, her life was in its totality confined to one area forever, until she would one day die. A prison.
The carriage continues to move on as he stares, lost in thought. When he contemplates the life he had abandoned and the one he is currently following, he experiences a broad range of feelings inside of himself and the strongest among them is shame. As they travel through the night on the roadways, the two individuals remain silent and watch the world pass by under them. Marjatta turns her head around, looking back up at him. After a moment of hesitation, he opens his mouth again, trying to find the right words.
"I fucked it up," he says, finally getting to the point. Deutero doesn’t look at her, since he doesn’t want to meet her eyes; instead, he stares back out ahead of them, towards the distant star on the horizon that marks Isaiah.
The truth is, in his old life, he wasn’t much of anybody, really. He had the opportunities in life to live bravely, to become something, to push hard forward so that his body and spirit could both breathe unto the dawn of a better life. But instead, he didn’t.
Instead, he stayed in the dark, literally, in his room every day for days on end. Those days turned into weeks, those weeks into months, and then, somehow, despite the impossibility of it, those months turned into years. Full years of… nothing. just a mindless, droning existence in a prison that he himself had chosen to stay in. He could have changed his life; he could have tried to be better, but he didn’t.
Instead, somehow, he has this opportunity now. It is an opportunity that he didn’t earn, one that he doesn’t deserve, and one that people who actually do, like Marjatta, usually never get.
And that’s why he feels bad telling her about it.
A small hand holds itself against his forearm. "Don’t worry about it, big guy," says the fairy. "If there’s one thing that I’ve learned," she says. "It’s that, no matter what, everybody fucks up their life eventually."
He sighs, exhaling a breath that somehow carried a lot of pressure with it, his shoulders drooping as he decides to make a change for real. Not a change that comes forced on him from the universe of this world or his old one, but a chance he himself makes for the sake of himself. Deutero lifts a finger, softly placing it on top of the back of her hand. "Wanna do better this time?" he asks, looking at the fairy, the moonlight cutting through her hair.
She stiffens up, looking away for a moment, before then turning back up toward him. "Yeah," replies Marjatta, sealing the simple promise.
