The Gate Traveler

We walked from the slums north, heading toward the stairs that led down to the water. The city looked better now. The air had cleared of ash, and there was no more debris cluttering the streets. Everywhere I looked, construction was underway. Some of the work was done partly by hand. Teams of workers hoisted large slabs of white marble with thick ropes, sweat gleaming on their backs under the sun. A mage set a slab into place, and I noticed how it merged seamlessly with the wall. It wasn't like the Fuse Stone spell I had, where the stones joined but still left a visible line between them. Here, the marble became an integral part of the structure, with no seams or traces of separation, as if it had always been one solid piece.

Other houses were being repaired entirely with magic. Beneath one of them, two mages stood with their hands raised, guiding heavy slabs into the air using telekinesis. At the top, a third mage moved along the frame, gesturing as the stone shifted into position. A fourth stepped forward and fused it, the glow of his spell fading as the stone locked in place without a trace. That piqued my curiosity.

I turned to the others. "Can you wait here for a few minutes?" I asked. "I want to check something."

Mahya squinted at me. "What?"

I waved a hand toward the city. "I want to see if they're using other building techniques."

"I would like to see that too," Al said.

Mahya nodded.

We walked through the streets, looking around, but I didn't spot anything new. In fact, the deeper we moved into the city and farther from the palatial mansions along the riverfront, the less magic I saw. Most of the repairs were being done the old-fashioned way: with two hands, nails, and a hammer for the wooden houses, or stones and mortar for those built from stone. There was still some magic here and there—a few glowing tools, spells reinforcing beams or stones, a mage repairing windows from scattered shards—but not nearly as much as I had expected.

"It doesn't make any sense," I said, frowning.

Mahya laughed. Al tilted his head, watching me with a puzzled expression.

I pointed toward a group of workers hammering planks together to build a wall. "Lumis is a medium-mana world, and they have those insane towers built entirely with spells. But here? This place has high mana and Magitech. So why are they building mostly by hand?" I shifted my weight and crossed my arms. "Okay, sure, there was that wizard in the desert who taught me the method, but I didn't see even that technique here." I glanced around again, still not finding what I was looking for. "It doesn't make any sense."

Mahya laughed again and clapped me on the back. "It is how it is. Different worlds have different progression tracks and different things they put emphasis on. Look, enjoy, and don't judge."

"I'm not judging," I said, holding up my hands. "I'm just trying to understand."

"If you truly wish to understand why a world developed the way it did, the best way to achieve that is by spending time in its libraries and studying its history," Al said, folding his hands behind his back as he walked. "Otherwise, Mahya is correct. It is what it is. In my family's archive, I read about many worlds, each with a distinct focus and a different path of progression. The answer is almost always found in their history."

He grew quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting upward in thought. Then his face lit up, like a new idea had just clicked into place. "Are all people the same?"

"Of course not," I said, raising an eyebrow.

He pointed at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Exactly. And the same goes for worlds. Each one has its own uniqueness and quirks. You can think of every world as a distinct individual. Broad, diverse, complicated—but an individual nonetheless."

I hummed and nodded, turning the thought over in my mind.

I did see Magitech used here and there, but mostly for transportation. The tricycles were everywhere—used as taxis, private rides, or to pull flatbeds and trailers piled high with stone or wood. That part made sense. I also saw signs of Magitech development in other areas: the wild house appliance store I saw in the Sand Post mall, the music-playing gizmos that seemed oddly advanced, and the surprisingly sophisticated study of storage devices.

Then again, I wasn't entirely sure if those storage devices even fell under the Magitech umbrella. Maybe they were a separate branch of research altogether. Still, compared to Earth, it felt uneven. On one hand, they had enchanted freezers and a quirky gizmo that could vacuum and wash the floor, and on the other, they were rebuilding shattered homes with hammers and nails. In some fields, they had leapt ahead of what Earth could do, but in others, they lagged far behind what I imagined magic could accomplish.

After a few hours of walking through the city and observing the repairs, Al slowed his pace and glanced around thoughtfully. "Perhaps we ought to remain here for a while. It appears as though life is beginning to return to normal."

Mahya stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. "No," she said, her tone firm. "From everything I've heard, the fighting hasn't stopped. It's still going strong in the northern provinces, and there are reports of raids along the western border. Supply convoys have been attacked. Entire villages have gone silent overnight. I even heard from someone at the guild that one of the border fortresses was overrun just two days ago."

She paused, then swept her gaze across the half-repaired buildings around us. "Most of the people I talked to at the guild are convinced the attack on the capital won't go unanswered. The empire might have been hit, but it's not dead. They're regrouping. Maybe it looks calm right now, but that's just the surface. It's the quiet before the real storm hits. And when it does, this city is going to be right in the middle of it. Do we really want to stick around for that?"

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I looked between them and gave a slow nod. "That matches what I heard, too. Everyone I talked to in the slums said the same thing. They called the emperor of this eastern part a proud and ruthless man. Not the kind to forgive or forget."

Mahya folded her arms and let out a slow breath through her nose, tension still visible in her posture. Al gave a thoughtful nod, his lips pressed into a tight line as he seemed to turn her words over in his mind. None of us spoke for a while. Then, almost in unison, we turned and made our way back toward the river. It was time to skedaddle and leave the war behind.

The first stairway into the water was packed with people repairing the damaged steps. We moved on.

The next one had fewer people, but there were too many boats clustered nearby, all full of people. We kept going.

The third still had too much activity, both on the stairs and in the water. So we kept walking from stairway to stairway, heading farther and farther north until we reached the city outskirts.

The last stairway leading into the river was badly damaged, though not from the attack. Half the steps were missing, and the rest were slick with a slimy green moss that looked treacherous. The upside was that the place was nearly empty.

Mahya let out a sigh, drew her sword, rose into the air above the river, and dropped our boat straight in. The splash sent a wave halfway up the steps, but unfortunately, it didn't improve their condition.

Mahya took the helm, guiding us out of the city and toward the Gate. The boat slipped down the river, leaving behind the once-vibrant city. I sat at the back with Rue, his head resting on my lap, and watched the city slowly fade into the distance.

It used to be such a fun place. A cool circus, a stats-giving obstacle course, and a cool restaurant where we were the exhibition and the fish the spectators. I was sure there were more hidden gems I hadn't discovered, but the war had turned it all upside down.

With a long sigh, I stood and gave Rue a quick pat before heading to the cooking station. After that long trek through the city, everyone would be starving.

For the first three days of sailing, I didn't do much besides taking my turn at the helm. Because of the distance, we didn't drop anchor at night and kept sailing nonstop. I usually took the night shift. With my heightened Perception, the light from the moon and stars was enough to see almost as clearly as during the day.

Al, Mahya, and Rue had been spending most of their time playing games. At the moment, they were deep into a three-way backgammon tournament, something like 45 to 42 to 62, with Rue in the lead. And no, he wasn't cheating. He'd stopped doing that a while ago. He just had, as Mahya put it, "the luck of a son of a bitch." Rue had nodded seriously and agreed, pointing out that his mother was indeed a bitch.

So far, we had sailed past a handful of towns or villages. It was hard to tell how big they actually were, so I couldn't say for sure what counted as a town and what was just a large village. Still, they all looked well-maintained. Clean stone paths curved between tidy rooftops, and the occasional tower rose above the rest like a sentinel.

In some places, there were clear signs of damage. Two towns looked untouched, not a single cracked wall or scorched tile in sight. But the one after that was a different story. Half of the buildings were destroyed, and people were working nonstop to rebuild them almost from scratch. We passed two more that seemed mostly intact. Then we came to a larger settlement, possibly even a small city, that initially appeared fine. But the harbor told a different story. Bits and pieces of the old dock floated in the river, and groups of people were fishing out planks and broken beams, trying to piece it back together.

In every town, I caught glimpses of Magitech, though not as much as I'd expected. There were floating lanterns above the docks, the usual tricycles rumbling through the streets, sleek boats skimming the river with no paddles or sails, and even a mechanical crane in one of the bigger settlements, unloading crates from a barge. Just enough to remind me it was a high-mana world, but still less than I would have guessed.

Between those stops, the river carried us through vast stretches of open landscape. Some areas were farmland, with neat rows of crops and irrigation lines that shimmered in the heat. Other parts were wilder, with clusters of tall trees and flowering shrubs growing in tangled patches along the riverbanks. Flocks of birds took off when we passed, wings flashing white and silver, and once I saw a group of long-legged animals wading in the shallows, their heads lifting to watch us as we drifted by.

The scenery was peaceful and varied. Gentle hills rolled in the distance, dotted with windmills or the occasional estate perched high above the river. Sometimes the river narrowed and cut through rocky cliffs, where vines trailed down the stone and small waterfalls trickled from hidden springs. At one of those bottlenecks, we watched two large merchant vessels meet face to face in the tightest section of the pass. For a moment, neither moved, and the crews on both sides started shouting and gesturing. After a bit of back-and-forth, one ship slowly reversed, inching its way into a wider pocket near the cliff wall. The other drifted forward with exaggerated caution, the gap between its hull and the rocks barely wide enough to slip a hand through. Once it cleared, the first ship pulled forward again with a theatrical wave from its captain. It looked exactly like two wagons trying to pass on a street too narrow, with a lot of pride and tiny space.

We passed all kinds of boats along the way. Towering trade ships creaked as they glided by, their sails wide and shimmering faintly with enchantments. Medium-sized vessels cruised past, their crews shouting instructions across the decks as they hauled crates and barrels. Sleek boats zipped between them, low to the water and fast, barely causing a ripple. Closer to the banks, narrow wooden canoes drifted lazily, often with a single fisherman casting a line or checking a net. Some waved as we passed. Others gave a nod, too focused on their catch or steering through the busier currents. A few stared a little longer than usual, blinking at our boat with puzzled expressions or nudging a crewmate to take a look.

One of the larger vessels appeared to be military in nature. Everyone on board wore matching dark blue coats with silver trim, along with metal and leather armor and shoulder plates shaped like snarling beasts. A few held long-handled polearms, and the others carried swords, scanning the water and sky like they expected trouble. I wondered if that boat could fly like the others we'd seen, or if it was just a regular old "water boat."

It was a beautiful journey. A quiet stretch of the world unfolded around us, calm, like the river itself. I stood near the railing for a while, just watching the scenery slip by, trying to memorize the colors, the smells, the rhythm of it.

Then I took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and slowly released it. With it, I let the disappointment go. This world had been a good one. Full of surprises, interesting food, unique people, and more than a few moments of joy. I wasn't ready to leave, not really, but staying wasn't an option anymore. Other worlds were waiting. New places, new puzzles, new people. And I had no doubt I'd find more cool stuff along the way.