The Gate Traveler

We spent the entire day by the river, relaxing, swimming, playing, and eating. My body was still too thin, every bone and muscle visible. The only pants that fit were sweatpants with an elastic waistband and a string I had to pull tight all the way.

Once again, I tried to teach Stretch the glorious art of fetching. After a good bit of effort, he reluctantly brought the stick back. Once.

"You're supposed to be a dog. Dogs adore playing fetch," I tried again to convince him.

He shot me a disdainful look and trotted off to relieve himself on a nearby bush. That was the end of both the conversation and my attempts in general.

That evening, inspired by a recipe I saw in the Archive, I cooked a stew with bison chunks and root vegetables. It turned out delicious, and I felt my body absorb the mana. I facepalmed—again. It seemed my face was becoming the victim of my forgetfulness. The bison "mana potion" had completely slipped my mind. After taking out my biggest pots, I began cooking all the bison chunks, storing them in the newly cleaned takeaway boxes. I cooked until the middle of the night, using all the meat chunks. Stretch still had fifteen big burgers, and he could eat the stew, but stocking up on fresh meat still seemed like a good idea.

The following day, I told Stretch we were going bison hunting, and he ran in circles around me with excitement. I checked his progress:

I scratched his ear. "Well, buddy, you are progressing nicely."

He licked my nose.

As we packed up the camp and set off toward the next town, I hoped we'd encounter bison along the way. The two types of herd animals I had seen so far were the mini bison and the gazelle-goat, and goat wasn't my favorite. By lunchtime, we reached the foot of the first mountain in the chain. It was a massive chain, much larger than it appeared on the Map. Keeping my fingers crossed, I hoped we wouldn't encounter any obstacles in finding a passage between the mountains. After lunch, I set out to climb the mountain and look from its top for a passage and bison. The incline didn't seem too steep, and the mountain wasn't that high, so by my estimate, we could reach the top in an hour or two.

I seriously overestimated my climbing ability—we reached the mountain top only by sunset. When I finally stood on the top, it took my breath away. It was one of the most beautiful panoramas I had ever seen. The setting sun bathed the entire landscape in a warm, golden light, casting long shadows that danced across the valleys below. Mountains stretched as far as the eye could see, their lush greenery gradually giving way to the dense forests that carpeted the distant horizon. The river we swam in earlier snaked through the valleys between the mountains, its waters sparkling like a ribbon of molten gold in the fading sunlight. Everywhere I looked, vibrant orange, pink, and purple painted the sky, blending seamlessly into the azure blue above. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily, their edges tinged with the colors of the sunset. The peaks of the surrounding mountains stood majestically, their rugged silhouettes outlined against the brilliant sky. Each peak was distinct. Some were flat with some vegetation, while others were jagged and bare, towering like silent sentinels over the valleys. The landscape's sheer vastness and untouched beauty filled me with a deep sense of awe and serenity. My chest loosened and all the noise in my head went quiet. It was a sight that seemed to transcend time, a perfect blend of tranquility and grandeur. I felt a deep connection to the world around me, a sense of belonging, and an almost overwhelming peace. My aching legs didn't matter anymore; I would've climbed ten more peaks for this view. Standing there, looking out at the breathtaking vista, I had a strong sense of gratitude for my journey. The unparalleled beauty was a reminder of why I traveled. This was the reward. The chance to see the world in all its raw, magnificent splendor.

The rest of the mountains in the chain weren't much taller than the one I was standing on, and most of them were very wide, with valleys between them. One valley had another river that even curved in the direction we were heading, but I wasn't sure I could talk Stretch into the canoe. Maybe now that he was more intelligent, it would be easier.

It was getting dark fast. The mountaintop was small, so there was no place to set camp. We climbed down again for ten minutes until we reached a flat area big enough to set up one of my smaller tents.

The following morning, I climbed to the mountaintop again, took out my binoculars, searched the valleys for bison, and found a herd. It was in the opposite direction from where we were heading, but I wasn't in a hurry to reach the town. Although I wanted to progress on my looting, a few days out of my way wouldn't be a problem. I looked from one end of the mountain chain to the other, and my eyes snagged on a particular mountain for a moment. There was nothing special about it, except maybe it was shorter than its immediate neighbors. Again, I looked from one end of the mountain chain to the other, and again my eyes snagged on that mountain; it felt like it "pinged" me.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Hmm, interesting.

I opened my Map, zoomed in until I located that specific mountain, and marked its location. Then, I took some pictures; even without the sunset, the panorama was breathtaking. Since I wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere, I sat down and looked at the view. Stretch put his head on my lap, and I scratched his ears. The breathtaking beauty around me made me feel both amazed and at peace. As I took a deep breath, I sensed myself expanding as though I was both a part of the world and enveloping it. I stayed there all day and enjoyed another sunset. For me, those days, those moments, no matter how long or short, became my reason for traveling. This was the reason for my journey. Healing people gave me a feeling of accomplishment, and I still had the challenge of the loot spell I was determined to crack. But those things were the "doing" part of my journey. This day, and the time I spent in the grotto, were the "being" part of my journey. To be in the moment and take it in.

The next day, we climbed down and headed toward the interesting mountain. It was unclear if it was my Perception or Luck doing the "pinging," but something was there; I was sure of it. It took us two days to reach it, right before dark. We had walked almost nonstop, faster than usual, and I was tired, so we had dinner and went to sleep early.

When I examined my body again in the morning, it looked much better. Over the past few days, I ate more than usual, both on breaks and while walking, and it seemed like I had gained most of my body weight back. After I packed up the camp, we climbed the mountain. Stretch must have had mountain goats in his ancestry; he climbed like he was walking on a flat road. After about three hours, we reached the mountain top. The view was amazing but not much different from the view from the other mountain.

Now what?

I sat on the top, waiting for something to happen. Nothing.

Hmm, maybe it's something I'll see from here?

With my binoculars in hand, I looked from side to side. I could see further up north from here. After the mountain chain, there was a forest, and I saw some smoke. Probably the town I was heading to. Looking for the bison herd, I couldn't see it from here. I had no idea what to do next, so I just sat there for a while, and Stretch used the opportunity to nap.

After about an hour of sitting there, I got an idea. The description of my Luck mentioned something about using it actively. I checked, just in case.

It took me a couple of seconds to figure out how to "actively engage" it, but the minute I did, I felt a pull in a specific direction, like a compass needle pointing a certain way. It was on the opposite side of the mountain from where we climbed, and I followed the "Luck Compass." Halfway down, we reached a narrow cave entrance between two rocks. Without the guidance from my Luck, I would have never found it. It was situated in such a way that it was invisible from any angle. Only when you walked up to the rock jutting out of the mountain could you see the entrance behind it. I took out one of my oil lamps, lit it, and we went in.

Initially, the entrance was narrow, so I had to walk sideways, which gave me a mild sense of claustrophobia. However, after a few meters, it widened, and I could walk normally. The walls had a type of moss on them that reflected the light from the lamp, so it became much brighter, and I could see well. Stretch ran ahead and disappeared from view, which made me feel much better. I was getting worried about the "mummy chamber" vibe, but trusted his senses.

After a few meters, the passage opened into a vast cavern. I walked into the cavern's center and lifted the light to see better. The light reflected off the walls, but not like off the moss. The walls of the cavern were full of crystals. I tried to dislodge one of them, but couldn't. With a medical chisel and a hammer, I dislodged it from the wall in just a few minutes. It looked beautiful, with a deep green color.

So, I was supposed to see the crystals?

It made little sense. I facepalmed again.

I need to stop doing that, or I'd hurt myself.

I identified the crystal.

Yes, please, and thank you, Lord!

Setting camp at the foot of the mountain and climbing up and down every day seemed like a dumb idea, so I walked around all the caverns looking for openings and couldn't find any. However, the air smelled fresh and not musty or damp, so there must be ventilation. Getting an idea, I shut off the lamp, let my eyes get used to the darkness, and looked. There were thin shafts of light in three locations. Good, air won't be a problem. I shuffled slowly to one location with light, took out a small amount of kindling, and lit a small fire. The smoke went up like through a chimney. After lighting the lamp again, I examined the ground and walls, looking for openings through which snakes or other nasties could pass, but found nothing.

Excellent.

I set up a mini-camp near the fire. There was no need for the tent inside, but a chair and table were a must. Rubbing my hands together in smug satisfaction, I got to work.