02-15-2017, 11:06 PM
Brummagen, Goldecia | Alvan 20, 1582
Ildus, got off the tram and crossed the street. After wandering for five minutes, the young student finally found the place he was looking for. He entered in "Joyful Knowledge", which seemed to him a bit petulant and weird name for a small bookshop. Once he entered, he felt the shop looked as an ordinary antiquary bookshop, only that everything -the store, the floor, the desk, the bookshelves, even the book themselves- didn't look too old, but rather new and relatively clean. However, the place lacked any kind of decoration and advertisements.
There wasn't anyone nearby the desk, so Ildus decided to touch that small bell, timidly at first.
A young woman, but slighly older than Ildus, came. "Yes, yes! I'm coming", she replied in Florinthian language, although with a harsh accent. "What can I do for you?".
Although he hadn't seen that woman before, Ildus felt that not only her voice, but her factions, looked very familar to him. "Yes, yes", he replied, a bit nervous. "My name is...Michael. I am looking for an old history book, that is...It's called the Fountain of Life".
"'The Fountain of Life', I see", she replied. "Yes, that book. Wait a minute". She returned with a box, where there was a book inside.
"Ajsha...", Ildus said. He could see how the woman kept looking coldly at him, as she didn't exactly trust him.
"Let me wrap the book", she said. "Do you want anything else?", she asked.
"No...", Ilsat replied. "No, thank you. That was all I was looking for. I guess".
"Fine", she said. "Actually it is a rather common book, so we will accept anything you are willing to give us".
"Ah...", Ilsat babbled. He left just a few coins on the desk. "I hope it's enough".
"Yes, it is enough", she answered. "Remember to check the last chapter, they are always the most interesting ones. And don't come back here".
"Alright", Ilsat said. "Goodbye", he added before leaving the store.
While he was returning home, his nervous could only grow, feeling terribly paranoid about every person he found and everything he heard.
Ilsat decided to rest a bit, two hours later, he prepared himself a tea. Before he finished it, he came back to his bedroom and opened his backpack.
There was the book he was looking for, The Fountain of Life. Such title didn't appear anywhere on the cover, though. The book seemed written in A'sirian language, or maybe one of those languages spoken in Eastern Galasia, Ilsat though. A language he didn't speak, in any case. But it didn't take long to guess that it was likely a book about Bal-Jawadi, the 15th-century Akhadist scholar, probably a biography.
Ilsat, who had been studying Medicine in the local university in Brummagen for eight months, didn't know much about theology. Religion never interested him much, despite the attemps of his grandmother, a very religious woman and a pious Akhadic believer.
He suddenly remembered the shop assistant's words, and flicked through the book, looking those final chapters. There, at the beginning of the last chapter, he found a note. The note, a small pice of paper, was just an address and date.
"Alvan 22, 16:00", he read. At the other side of the paper, there were written a few words in his native language. "Bring back the book and wait. Don't talk with anyone".
The next two days, Ilsat went to the university as usual, but anyone could see that he was considerably worried about something. He tried to avoid as much as possible his few closer acquaintances in the university, although -to tell the truth- he hadn't many.
He came to the place of meeting five minutes before, despite punctuality wasn't exactly Ilsat's greatest virtue. It was an ordinary Goldecian pub, and he decided to sit down in a table nearby the door. Four minutes later, the waitress came. It was clear that service wasn't great, although not as bad as the cleanliness of the place.
"What would you like to have?", the Goldecian waitress asked. She looked indifferently at Ilsat at first but she couldn't avoid to stare at Ilsat's book, the one he had bought two days before, which was on the table.
"A lemon soda", Ilsat replied, after thinking for a while. He thought that drinking alcohol wouldn't be a great idea. Ilsat could realize that the waitress seemed uneasy about something.
Ilsat kept waiting. He had almost finished his drink and he was thinking if it wasn't better to leave the place. However, ten minutes later, a man approached him.
"Do you mind if I sit down?", the man said. Ilsat kept looking at the man, but he didn't reply.
The man sat down and they kept silent for a while. "The Fountain of Life", the man said in Florinthian. He sounded a fluent Florinthian speaker, but he spoke without the local accent. He didn't look as a native Goldecian either. It wouldn't very difficult for anyone to guess that both men were foreigners. When the waitress came, the man simply asked for a bottle of water.
The man, who was in his 30s and with a serious and not very friendly look, passed Ilsat a note. "Wait ten minutes and come where it is written. Go walking, it is not far. There is no hurry, but don't go to slow". Then the man left, before he could even open the bottle. Ilsat didn't say anything, and simply waited as the man had told you. He opened the bottle of water and asked the waitress for the bill. Then he left the pub.
Ilsat went to the address said. It was a dirty alley. He wondered if all this had just been just a game, or even worse, a trap. Before Ilsat could change his mind, a black car with dark glass stopped in front of him. The door opened and he could recognize the same man he had just met a few minutes ago, in that dirty pub.
"Kerergak", the man told Ilsat. Then he got in the only car which was parked in that street and left the place. Ilsat doubted but finally he got in the black car.
Ilsat sat on the backseat. It was a big and spacious car. In front of him was two men, both wearing a suit. One was young, only a few years older than him. He had a very serious expression. The other man, who was older but not too much, was smiling. But he smiled in a calm and mysterious way. That only made Ilsat a bit more nervous. The conversation which followed occurred entirely in a Near East language, which we will translate for our beloved Westerner readers:
"Nice to meet you, Ilsat", the man said. "I wondered if you were ready".
"I am", Ilsat replied, quickly, although visibly nervous.
"I see", the man replied. "If you're not willing to help, it is time to say it. We can't allow mistakes".
"I have been prepared for long", Ilsat replied. "It has been a long wait".
"I can imagine", the man replied. "It is always great to find young people willing to help. Of course, we could have finished this job in a more conventional way. But after the last incident, we aren't sure how safe our movements are. If you are successful, but I hope you will, you will be rewarded. If that's your concern".
"Well, not entirely", Ilsat answered. "I mean...".
"Of course, I understand", the man interrupted him. Ilsat hit the ceiling of the car with his head after a pothole. The man smiled but his face turned serious suddenly. "Alright, let's enter in details". The other man opened a briefcase, which he gave to Ilsat.
"Here there is everything you need", the first man told Ilsat. "Well, almost everything". Ilsat looked inside, he could see some tickets, a few papers and folders, and some rolls of banknotes.
"You will leave to Cair Para this weekend", the man continued. "I know it is a long way but I hope the train is comfortable enough. It is more discreet and there is no a hurry, after all. You will find in the dossier one everything you need to know about your movements. There is enough money for all your costs, even more than you need. You will be in Cair Para for three weeks. Relax there, enjoy the place and do what a real tourist would do. Be discreet, try to be unnoticed, while you start to know the places. Choose a motel not too close to the center, but not too far either. Where you can move freely and fast".
"Alright", Ilsat replied.
"At the date indicated, you will meet our man in Cair Para", the man said. "Give him this briefcase, it is better not leaving anything behind. And remember, don't talk about this to anyone".
"I understand", Ilsat answered. "I won't".
"Don't take notes and don't keep anything besides that you need: the tickets, the money", the man said. "Memorize everything, and burn the rest as soon as you can. Tomorrow, if that is possible".
"I have a good memory, that's not an issue", Ilsat replied with a smile. For some reason, he found confidence now.
"In case you needed and you feel you're not strong enough to resist if something goes wrong", the man added, "there is a capsule. Be careful with it. Ilsat felt like choking for a second. "Don't think much about it, and just do it. That's how it is done".
"Yes, I suppose that's the truth...", Ilsat replied.
"When the day comes, everyone of us would have left the country. So you're alone on this. Maybe one day we will meet again, who knows". The car suddenly stopped. "Yes, this is the place. Turn to the left there, where's that closed ice-cream shop, the one with the pink puppet on the wall and down there you can return home on the metro. Good luck".
Before Ilsat could say goodbye, the door closed and the black car left.
Ildus, got off the tram and crossed the street. After wandering for five minutes, the young student finally found the place he was looking for. He entered in "Joyful Knowledge", which seemed to him a bit petulant and weird name for a small bookshop. Once he entered, he felt the shop looked as an ordinary antiquary bookshop, only that everything -the store, the floor, the desk, the bookshelves, even the book themselves- didn't look too old, but rather new and relatively clean. However, the place lacked any kind of decoration and advertisements.
There wasn't anyone nearby the desk, so Ildus decided to touch that small bell, timidly at first.
A young woman, but slighly older than Ildus, came. "Yes, yes! I'm coming", she replied in Florinthian language, although with a harsh accent. "What can I do for you?".
Although he hadn't seen that woman before, Ildus felt that not only her voice, but her factions, looked very familar to him. "Yes, yes", he replied, a bit nervous. "My name is...Michael. I am looking for an old history book, that is...It's called the Fountain of Life".
"'The Fountain of Life', I see", she replied. "Yes, that book. Wait a minute". She returned with a box, where there was a book inside.
"Ajsha...", Ildus said. He could see how the woman kept looking coldly at him, as she didn't exactly trust him.
"Let me wrap the book", she said. "Do you want anything else?", she asked.
"No...", Ilsat replied. "No, thank you. That was all I was looking for. I guess".
"Fine", she said. "Actually it is a rather common book, so we will accept anything you are willing to give us".
"Ah...", Ilsat babbled. He left just a few coins on the desk. "I hope it's enough".
"Yes, it is enough", she answered. "Remember to check the last chapter, they are always the most interesting ones. And don't come back here".
"Alright", Ilsat said. "Goodbye", he added before leaving the store.
While he was returning home, his nervous could only grow, feeling terribly paranoid about every person he found and everything he heard.
Ilsat decided to rest a bit, two hours later, he prepared himself a tea. Before he finished it, he came back to his bedroom and opened his backpack.
There was the book he was looking for, The Fountain of Life. Such title didn't appear anywhere on the cover, though. The book seemed written in A'sirian language, or maybe one of those languages spoken in Eastern Galasia, Ilsat though. A language he didn't speak, in any case. But it didn't take long to guess that it was likely a book about Bal-Jawadi, the 15th-century Akhadist scholar, probably a biography.
Ilsat, who had been studying Medicine in the local university in Brummagen for eight months, didn't know much about theology. Religion never interested him much, despite the attemps of his grandmother, a very religious woman and a pious Akhadic believer.
He suddenly remembered the shop assistant's words, and flicked through the book, looking those final chapters. There, at the beginning of the last chapter, he found a note. The note, a small pice of paper, was just an address and date.
"Alvan 22, 16:00", he read. At the other side of the paper, there were written a few words in his native language. "Bring back the book and wait. Don't talk with anyone".
The next two days, Ilsat went to the university as usual, but anyone could see that he was considerably worried about something. He tried to avoid as much as possible his few closer acquaintances in the university, although -to tell the truth- he hadn't many.
He came to the place of meeting five minutes before, despite punctuality wasn't exactly Ilsat's greatest virtue. It was an ordinary Goldecian pub, and he decided to sit down in a table nearby the door. Four minutes later, the waitress came. It was clear that service wasn't great, although not as bad as the cleanliness of the place.
"What would you like to have?", the Goldecian waitress asked. She looked indifferently at Ilsat at first but she couldn't avoid to stare at Ilsat's book, the one he had bought two days before, which was on the table.
"A lemon soda", Ilsat replied, after thinking for a while. He thought that drinking alcohol wouldn't be a great idea. Ilsat could realize that the waitress seemed uneasy about something.
Ilsat kept waiting. He had almost finished his drink and he was thinking if it wasn't better to leave the place. However, ten minutes later, a man approached him.
"Do you mind if I sit down?", the man said. Ilsat kept looking at the man, but he didn't reply.
The man sat down and they kept silent for a while. "The Fountain of Life", the man said in Florinthian. He sounded a fluent Florinthian speaker, but he spoke without the local accent. He didn't look as a native Goldecian either. It wouldn't very difficult for anyone to guess that both men were foreigners. When the waitress came, the man simply asked for a bottle of water.
The man, who was in his 30s and with a serious and not very friendly look, passed Ilsat a note. "Wait ten minutes and come where it is written. Go walking, it is not far. There is no hurry, but don't go to slow". Then the man left, before he could even open the bottle. Ilsat didn't say anything, and simply waited as the man had told you. He opened the bottle of water and asked the waitress for the bill. Then he left the pub.
Ilsat went to the address said. It was a dirty alley. He wondered if all this had just been just a game, or even worse, a trap. Before Ilsat could change his mind, a black car with dark glass stopped in front of him. The door opened and he could recognize the same man he had just met a few minutes ago, in that dirty pub.
"Kerergak", the man told Ilsat. Then he got in the only car which was parked in that street and left the place. Ilsat doubted but finally he got in the black car.
Ilsat sat on the backseat. It was a big and spacious car. In front of him was two men, both wearing a suit. One was young, only a few years older than him. He had a very serious expression. The other man, who was older but not too much, was smiling. But he smiled in a calm and mysterious way. That only made Ilsat a bit more nervous. The conversation which followed occurred entirely in a Near East language, which we will translate for our beloved Westerner readers:
"Nice to meet you, Ilsat", the man said. "I wondered if you were ready".
"I am", Ilsat replied, quickly, although visibly nervous.
"I see", the man replied. "If you're not willing to help, it is time to say it. We can't allow mistakes".
"I have been prepared for long", Ilsat replied. "It has been a long wait".
"I can imagine", the man replied. "It is always great to find young people willing to help. Of course, we could have finished this job in a more conventional way. But after the last incident, we aren't sure how safe our movements are. If you are successful, but I hope you will, you will be rewarded. If that's your concern".
"Well, not entirely", Ilsat answered. "I mean...".
"Of course, I understand", the man interrupted him. Ilsat hit the ceiling of the car with his head after a pothole. The man smiled but his face turned serious suddenly. "Alright, let's enter in details". The other man opened a briefcase, which he gave to Ilsat.
"Here there is everything you need", the first man told Ilsat. "Well, almost everything". Ilsat looked inside, he could see some tickets, a few papers and folders, and some rolls of banknotes.
"You will leave to Cair Para this weekend", the man continued. "I know it is a long way but I hope the train is comfortable enough. It is more discreet and there is no a hurry, after all. You will find in the dossier one everything you need to know about your movements. There is enough money for all your costs, even more than you need. You will be in Cair Para for three weeks. Relax there, enjoy the place and do what a real tourist would do. Be discreet, try to be unnoticed, while you start to know the places. Choose a motel not too close to the center, but not too far either. Where you can move freely and fast".
"Alright", Ilsat replied.
"At the date indicated, you will meet our man in Cair Para", the man said. "Give him this briefcase, it is better not leaving anything behind. And remember, don't talk about this to anyone".
"I understand", Ilsat answered. "I won't".
"Don't take notes and don't keep anything besides that you need: the tickets, the money", the man said. "Memorize everything, and burn the rest as soon as you can. Tomorrow, if that is possible".
"I have a good memory, that's not an issue", Ilsat replied with a smile. For some reason, he found confidence now.
"In case you needed and you feel you're not strong enough to resist if something goes wrong", the man added, "there is a capsule. Be careful with it. Ilsat felt like choking for a second. "Don't think much about it, and just do it. That's how it is done".
"Yes, I suppose that's the truth...", Ilsat replied.
"When the day comes, everyone of us would have left the country. So you're alone on this. Maybe one day we will meet again, who knows". The car suddenly stopped. "Yes, this is the place. Turn to the left there, where's that closed ice-cream shop, the one with the pink puppet on the wall and down there you can return home on the metro. Good luck".
Before Ilsat could say goodbye, the door closed and the black car left.