Having reached the foot of the hill, Clay slowly came to a halt, waiting for Mia to catch up to him. Shortly after she stood beside him her hair ruffled from the wind and her breath ragged beneath her mask, but after a few short breaths it returned to normal, her inner circulation doing its work.

  “You remember the plan, right?” asked Clay, seriously, before she could say anything. The smile on her face stiffened, as she matched his seriousness and nodded in acknowledgment.

  After their first unfortunate encounter with other humans, they have talked at length what to do in a variety of situations. Nonetheless, they were taking a risk by approaching other humans, but there was no other option.

  Either this worked out or they would be thoroughly fucked. With anxiety creeping up, he took a deep breath and started to move at a comfortable pace, his back straight and chin up, trying to appear confident. His mask was stashed in his backpack, and Mia had her half mask hidden behind a scarf. With winter at full swing, it didn’t appear out of place. He wore his blade openly on his left hip, while his hunting knife stayed hidden behind his back, just like he tried to hide his maimed arm under the thick dire wolf cloak. He wanted to appear like an experienced traveler that knew what he was doing, else people would start picking a fight.

  Not long after leaving the sparsely grown forest surrounding the foot of the hill, they reached the first of many fields. Not far from them worked a man thin like bones upon the fields. His skin was hanging low and his eyes sunken.

  He spared them a short glance before heaving his crude hoe over his shoulder and for his appearance drove it with surprising force into the ground, plowing the stalks from the last harvest under the earth. The man was clearly superhuman yet worked the fields and looked no better than a beggar. Not only his physical frame, but his clothes too were little more than rags. The worn cloak he wore over his shoulders couldn’t have provided much warmth.

  As they neared the city so too increased the surrounding people and shacks, some gave them a glance, others ignored them entirely, and none dared to strike a conversation. This didn’t set right with him, it seemed strange, but they continued nonetheless. What other choice was there?

  Eventually they reached a long line of people waiting before the city gates. Standing so close towards the walls, they felt dominating, almost oppressing. They must have been over a dozen meters tall, and Clay was yet again struck in awe by the clean surface of the mismatched stone. Magic was clearly at work here. But it wasn’t only stone, as whole trunks of trees every few meters helped to support its structure.

  Above, he could see guard upon guard dotting behind the merlons. Instead of modern firearms, they wielded quiver and bow. With his aura drawn inwards, he kept his strength hidden, but in turn could not gauge if anyone among the humans had awakened.

  With no one striking a conversation and too nervous to start their own, they just lined up like everyone else. Looking over the hunched man before him, Clay was able to make out the happenings in front. A large portcullis acted as the main gate to the city. Compared to the clean blend of one type of stone to the next of the wall, it looked hideous. It was a mismatch of iron, steel and other metals which he couldn’t recognize. Its colors ranged from orange-brownish, to shining silver and deep gray.

  It looked as if it had been repaired multiple times with whatever metal the people could get their hands on. At the moment it was drawn up only showing the lower portion, so he could only imagine how the whole thing would look. On either side of the gate stood four guards, for a total of eight. If placed side by side, they could easily cover the entrance, something he was sure to be no mere coincidence.

  Looking at their armor, he saw that they all wore something resembling a uniform. They wore some kind of gambeson, above a chain mail hauberk, which almost reached their knees, and above all that was a long tunic of faded yellow. Their arms were clad in metal bracers, and they wore leather gloves and boots, while a nasal helm crowned their head.

  Absorbing this whole scene, Clay was sure of it. He traveled through time and came back towards the Middle Ages. He must be. They were wearing a one to one replica of medieval armor. Their hands held spears and heater shields, there was even a symbol on the shields that resembled a sun. That was a freaking coat of arms!

  Shacking his head, he stopped questioning the situation and focused on a more pressing matter. Besides the eight guards, there was one more. A man seated behind a wooden table, a list in front of him, pen in hand. He wore the same armor as the others but didn’t wear the helmet as it rested besides him on the table.

  They waited patiently until it was their turn, and through his observations he was already able to gauge the rough procedure to enter the city. The old man that stood before them was refused entry, like so many others. He threw himself to the ground and begged to enter. The man behind the table gave a simple nod towards one of the guards, who heaved a heavy sigh before kicking the man in the groin, causing him to topple over in pain.

  Wincing in pain, a spear drove close to the man's head into the ground. Seeing the weapon, he finally gave up and scoured away on all fours. This wasn’t the first person that was rejected in such a manner, but it still bothered Clay as he watched. To the side, he saw Mia clenching the shaft of her spear strong enough for her knuckles to turn white, placing his hand on her shoulder she relaxed. They couldn’t afford to draw attention to themselves.

  “Next!” shouted the man behind the table.

  Walking up with Mia in tow, the man sounded to be bored out of his mind as repeated a phrase he must have already spoken a thousand times. “Your identification plate.”

  Now came the moment of truth. “I don’t have one.”

  Looking up from the list, the man leaned into his chair, examining Clay from top to bottom with a sharp look. “You are new here.”

  Giving him a short nod, the guard smiled. “What is your purpose of visit?”

  “Seeking refuge,” replied Clay simply.

  Playing with the pen in his hands, he concluded, “So you two are travelers. Probably even siblings and lost your group on the way or abandoned them. I don’t really care either way, I have heard the story a hundred times by now. If you want to enter the city, you have to pay the entry fee and abide by the rules.”

  Having expected as much, Clay beckoned the guard to continue. “The rules are simple. No killing, no stealing, no rape, yada yada yada… really, just use your head and you will be fine. Do anything out of line and the patrolling guards will catch you.” The last part was spoken like a fact rather than a threat.

  “If you really intend to stay, you should look for the Hearth. It's the governing building of the city and will get you all settled. There you will get evaluated to see if you are fitting for our ‘small’ community. If so, will you receive an identity plate and your accommodations with it. Any questions?”

  “Where exactly–” Cutting him off, the guard smiled. “That was a rhetorical question. I don’t get paid to answer questions, state them to the Hearth if you reach it.” Lazily stretching his hand out, he demanded, “The fee, then.”

  Looking unsure towards Mia, she only gave a questioning look not having spoken a word, like they agreed beforehand. Turning back towards the guard, he said, “I don’t really have money on me.”

  Hearing this, the guard gave him a hearty laugh, “Boy, I didn’t expect you to give me any of the old paper shit, we called money. Just give me something out of metal, preferably a weapon, like that nice sword on your hip.”

  Slowly drawing his blade, the guards in the back tensed, ready to move if needed. Turning the blade around, he gave it towards the sitting man. Who inspected it carefully, a whistle escaping his lips as he let the sun reflect from the black surface of the blade. “Any other weapons?”

  Placing his hunting knife onto the table, the man gestured towards Mia, “And the girl?”

  “Just the spear,” replied Clay swiftly.

  Tapping the blade, the man asked, “That is no metal, what material is that?”

  Clay thought about feigning ignorance, but decided against it. They would take their weapons, most likely, anyway. “It’s chitin, I believe.”

  Scrutinizing the blade, the man commented, “That must have belonged to one nasty fucking beast then,” before turning the blade around and giving it back.

  Confused, Clay frowned, but sheathed his blade anyway. “You are not taking our weapons?”

  Grinning, the man explained, “Of course not. I even advise you to keep them close. You will never know when a beast sneaks past the walls or some lunatic goes on a rampage. We can’t be everywhere at all times, you know.”

  Bewildered by the contradiction, Clay asked, “Didn’t you say that the guards will find us if we break out of line?”

  Suddenly turning serious, the gaze of the guard darkened. “Don’t get me wrong, we will find you should you do something stupid. No one who breaks the rules leaves the city unpunished. I just said that we can’t be there immediately, so it’s better if each citizen can protect themselves.”

  Frowning at the threat, Clay became very curious as to why they felt so confident about supervising the city, but he knew better than to ask. Seeing that he made his point clear, the guard lifted the knife. “This should suffice for your entry fee. Keep in mind that if you leave the city without an identity plate, that you will have to pay the fee once again.”

  Nodding, Clay waited for the man to continue, who just blankly stared at him. “What are you waiting for? Don’t block the line and get going!”

  Startled, he quickly moved past the man and the gate, finally reaching the inside of the city. The ground was not paved with stone, instead the ground was flattened into a broad path leading further into the city. Well, that was until their way forward suddenly ended after a turn before a crude building of wood and clay. Even without having any idea about construction was it obvious that the building was freshly made.

  Which seemed strange. All around them were crude houses, not much better than the shacks lining the outside wall. They came during their journey across many crumbling houses and ruins beyond repair, but making a new city between the ruins of the old made more sense, alone for the ease of being able to recycle the resources.

  These houses were built with a mixture of wood and clay, while the ruins would have provided finished bricks. Why the hell ended the path even in front of a building? Was that already the Hearth the guard mentioned?

  Peeking between the wooden shutters – there was no glass on the buildings – he saw more people hustling about, one dressing himself with the armor of the guards. So this was some sort of barracks.

  Trying to avoid any guard and possible questions, he grabbed Mia by the hand and went into an alley on the left of the building. At the end he could see a great flow of people. Intrigued, they got closer until they reached the end and were obstructed by the people, he couldn’t see far into the road and what the hustle was about.

  Standing on his toes, he tried to look over the crowd and why the fuck this road was so crammed with people, only for a woman with a large basket to accidentally run into him, causing Clay to lose his balance and fall right into the flow of the people.

  At once, he was drowned in a cluster of noise, a dozen different smells assaulted his nose; freshly carved wood, waxed leather, the reek of the people, smoke from freshly ignited tobacco, some mixture of flowers. Smells he hadn’t smelled in months suddenly came all at once, with his inner circulation they were only amplified as each sound and smell felt more vibrant.

  A hundred different activities fell into his vision, a man pushing a cart, making the already small road almost suffocating, woman and man carrying a variety of things in crates, basket, backpacks, suitcases or bags. It was such a random assortment of items that he couldn’t process it.

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  Some just carried food, others had tools ranging from hammers and axes to shovels and hoes. There was a crate filled with freshly harvested herbs, a draft of the wind brining such a mixture of smells towards him that he felt light-headed.

  Being pushed and shoved, he was swept away in the flow of the people as he tried to not run anyone over. Mia was long gone, and his senses were too overloaded to worry about anyone else but himself. Once the cart finally moved on, the road was again split by a rickety wooden scaffold from a house under construction, looking as though it might collapse at any moment. The people were hard at work; hammering, shouting, building and mixing the paste of clay, sand, water and straw that was smeared over the wooden frame.

  Overwhelmed the smells slowly faded away, too much to process, he tried to not smell at all. Once the smell faded, the sounds grew clearer, and he caught fragments of multiple conversations at once.

  “Edric give me the–”

  “Have you seen what Sir Degen–”

  “Ah, there you are! Don’t you run–”

  “Here are the tools you–”

  “Open up! Don’t let me hanging, I just want–”

  “Move we are going to be–”

  Slowly the sounds merged and fused, becoming louder and louder until a high-pitched ringing was the only thing he could hear. Unconsciously, his mouth opened, some of his salvia drooling out as a sickening feeling filled his stomach. Not caring anymore he pushed anyone aside as he moved to a back alley, this one being so small that not even two people could walk side by side.

  The houses on the side were built so tall that they blocked the light, turning the surroundings dark. Clutching his stomach with his arm, he fell to his knees and vomited all over the ground. He shortly blacked out before blood came rushing back, and he saw the puddle of vomit. A strand of saliva almost stretching all the way to the ground, before it finally snapped.

  Oh, fuck. Disgusted by the scene, his stomach clenched as he tried to vomit again, but it being empty there didn’t come much out besides bile, as he retched a few times more before finally feeling better. Spitting, he tried to get the foul taste from his mouth. Slowly standing up, he wiped his mouth clean from the saliva and vomit.

  Letting his backpack down, he leaned against the wall, resting his arm on his temple as he took long calming breaths. Smelling the sour and acidic smell of the puddle below, he had to concentrate to not bend over again.

  He could feel that his inner circulation was disrupted, so he concentrated on stabilizing it again, else his aura might escape. Once in place, the energy cleared his senses and he felt better at once. Taking one last breath, he slowly opened his eyes. Glancing to the side, he saw Mia, passing him his waterskin.

  Giving her a thankful nod, he took a gulp, rinsed his mouth of the last of the foul smell and spitted the water away, before taking a few sips to hydrate himself.

  “You feeling better now?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Overwhelmed by your senses?” asked Mia.

  Nodding, he straightened himself, put the waterskin away and shouldered his backpack. “I wasn’t prepared for that onslaught of sensations, but I’m fine now. Let’s go find someone that knows where this Hearth is.”

  All the time he wondered what this Vanguard place really was, but after that short trip he finally had a clear picture. The Vanguard was a jagged and broken reflection of humanity. A city born from desperation and the will to survive.

  These meter thick walls of solid stone, were the only thing that stood between the inhabitants and the chaos of the outside world. Inside the wall, narrow streets and alleyways twisted between structures that seemed to have been thrown together in a rush – shacks, shelters, and makeshift homes piled on top of one another. Built hastily, there was no time for a proper foundation, as people built wherever there was space. The whole city was a fickle thing that may crumble under its own weight at any moment.

  The people moved quickly and spoke in urgent tones. The constant threat of beast outside kept them on edge. Yet there was a silent understanding among them. He could feel it. Everyone, from the youngest child to the oldest elder, was in this together. There was no room for infighting or pride. The only goal was survival, and everyone played their part. Hands that once worked in a sheltered office now built homes, mended walls, and scavenged for supplies.

  There was solidarity. People, despite their individual struggles, shared whatever they could. Here, everyone was as equally desperate as the next, each person looking out for the other. In this broken world, no one could afford to be alone.

  The Vanguard was a city on the edge, built with the remnants of the past and the fragile hope of a future. Its walls, while far from perfect, stood tall as a testament to the resilience of its people. The future may be uncertain, but the will to survive and rebuild was the force that bound these people together.

  This was what they were looking for. The place he longed for. The people were on a thin rope towards civilization with an all enclosing abyss around them, one wrong step meant complete annihilation, but he could see it in the eyes of the people.

  They had hope. There wasn’t the crazy glints of the caveman, the utter desperation of the travelers or the fear of the sheltered that worried about anything that was new. This was the place where they could live. They had found their sanctuary – proper civilization.

  It almost brought a tear to his eyes, but he swallowed it down. They still weren’t done yet, they had to settle in first, to really make this their home. Walking along the small back alley they came across a woman in her forties, with an apron throwing trash into a bin. The backdoor to one of the several houses on the side stood open, almost taking up the whole alley.

  “Sorry, do you know where the Hearth is?”

  Turning around, the woman gave them an inspecting gaze before relaxing. “Sure sweetheart. You just have to follow the alley until its end then go right, then left, past Brock's bakery towards the market. Before the entrance, you go left, then right to the direction of the forge district, there you take the fourth alley on the left, and then you are basically there.”

  Seeing the empty stare of Clay, she began to smile, “I’m just jesting. I will bring you. Without a guide, it can be pretty hard to navigate these streets. I’m guessing you are new, then?”

  “Yes. Thank you for showing us the way, we were just pretty overwhelmed with… everything,” explained Clay.

  Giving him a knowing nod, the woman closed the door without locking it and started to guide the way, “That doesn’t surprise me. The place has changed quite a bit since I started living here. Even residents sometimes get lost in the streets. No worries, we have to stick together, right?”

  Giving her a simple nod in agreement, she moved on. This whole place was just too overwhelming to process anything. They first had to settle down and slowly explore from there.

  ******

  After a long, widening walk through the city avoiding several thousand people, they finally reached a small plaza, which at last didn’t feel suffocating. Pointing to the building at the center their guide said, “That’s your destination as you may have guessed.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” replied Clay as a grand building stretched over most of the plaza before them. It was three stories tall, built with logs and the same mismatch of stone from the wall. It was one of the few building that had proper windows, but most impressive was the tall tower in the center, which reached high towards the sky. They would have surely found the building on their own had they only looked up.

  Seeing their startled expression, their guide laughed to her heart's content. “Next time, just look up. You can see that tower wherever you are in the city. I just needed an excuse to take a walk. The city can feel suffocating if you stay at one place for too long. Sadly, I still have things to do, so I will have to leave you here.”

  As she turned around, Clay waved at her, “Thanks for guiding us anyway.” Returning a lazy wave and half a smile, she left them alone.

  “What a nice lady,” muttered Mia from the side.

  “Fells nice to meet normal people for once,” stated Clay. Even if not nearly as crowded as the streets, was the plaza, by nor means devoid of people. “We should get inside.”

  Stating that they wanted to settle down was enough for the guards to let them through. Besides the wall was this by far the heaviest guarded building they came across. Despite its grand appearance was the inside pretty modest. There was a large reception area, behind a simple wooden counter were three people seated, two women and one men. They all wore formal white blouses or shirts, with a black bow tie complementing the fit.

  Once inside another man to the side gave them a wooden plaque with a number on, “Please take a seat and wait until your number is called out.”

  Nodding in understanding, he took the plaque and settled with Mia on one of the several chairs placed along the wall, already a collection of other people awaiting their turn. Settling besides them, Mia sat down with a sigh of relief. She tried to hide it, but the city also took a toll on her.

  Looking at her, he had to keep a laugh in. She was still carrying her spear and while seated it reached well over her head, while she rested her heater shield upon the side of the chair. They still haven’t taken their weapons away, which seemed like a stupid thing not to do, even with guards around the place.

  Looking at the other people waiting, he saw that several others also had some kind of weapon on their body. What a strange place, everyone seemed armed, and yet he hasn’t seen anyone getting into a fight. Letting his eyes wander around the place, he saw a guard, catching his eye. He had a similar armor to the rest, but silver ornaments decorated his helmet. He also wore a much larger sword, a longsword if he didn’t see wrong. Definitely no normal guard.

  The man was bowing with discretion to the side of one of the receptionist and whispering something into her ears. He saw her taking a glance at him before quickly averting eye contact. That couldn’t be good.

  Moments later he heard the woman call out, “Number 44 please.” That was their number. Taking a quick glance to their neighbor, he could read that they held the number 41. Standing up, he pinched Mia twice. In response, her eyes momentarily widened before she calmed down.

  Moving calmly, he went towards the receptionist. “Good day sir, how can I help–”

  Putting the plaque on the counter, he interrupted her. “Are we allowed to leave?”

  “I– sorry?” Pressing his hand upon the counter, he repeated his question with more force. “Are we allowed to leave?”

  Smiling stiffly, she explained, “Of course you can leave, but didn’t you have a request?”

  “It’s fine, we will come back later,” turning around he said to Mia in passing, “let’s get going.” All the while he kept his hand close to his blade, and even if the guards seemed nervous, they didn’t obstruct their way. Before the doors closed behind him, he heard the receptionist call out, “Number 45 please.”

  Was he wrong? He may be paranoid, but he got a bad feeling from that whole situation, better be safe than sorry. He didn’t want to get into a fight. Not with his essence as low as it was. Feeling with his hand, he felt the vial of heart blood tugged behind his belt. There was no need to rush. No harm in observing the city for a few more days.

  Once outside, he went into the first alley he found, only to see two guards coming from that direction. Better to avoid them, he turned around and went for the street on the side, only to see another three guards coming their way. Quickly turning around, he froze in his steps. The bustling plaza from moments ago, all but vanished, as the last of the people hushed behind walls.

  Instead, small groups of guards closed in on them from all sides. Should they make a run for it? Feeling a tug on his sleeve, he saw Mia’s pleading eyes. Fuck, this wasn’t the place to shed blood. He really felt like this place could work for them. This was where they could finally settle down and rest.

  Slowly walking into the center of the plaza, the doors of the Hearth opened and the man with the silver helmet walked out. Clasping his hand firmly behind his back, he stood straight like a tree. Slowly, the other guards surrounded them, but neither did they make a move nor did anyone strike a conversation.

  The tension was palpable and even if they tried to appear firm, he could see that the guards were nervous, well all but the silver one. Good, if they didn’t want to talk, he would. “Could you tell me what this is all about?”

  “Sorry, to stop you two on your way, but we have to kindly ask you to wait here,” replied the silver guard sternly.

  “Why?” demanded Clay at once.

  “The Mayor wants to have a conversation with you. He should arrive short–” the silver guard stopped talking as a rhythmic thumping came from inside the building. With each step it came closer and with it grew Clay's anxiety. He knew that whoever came out of that building would be extremely dangerous, and that he needed to be prepared for everything.

  After what felt like an eternity, a bald man stepped through the door, wearing a dusted and worn leather coat, the man was limping on his right leg and with a heavy thud planted a cane entirely made of stone to his left. Looking at his face, he was met with unsettling wide eyes. From the top of his right eyelid, he could see a crevice of basalt forking over his skull, all the way down to his neck.

  Staring for a moment, he reached into his pocket, causing Clay to almost draw his sword right then and there, but he only retrieved a small vial. Tilting his head backwards, he let two drops fall into his right eye, spreading them with the help of his lower eyelid.

  “Ah, that’s better,” spoke the man in a deep voice that somehow held the power of the mountain range, surrounding them. He could feel them looming over him, warning him. To him, it felt like the mountains stretched into the sky, filling his vision, ready to crush him if needed.

  Not the one to back down, from such an obvious contest of strength, he smiled. There was no reason for him to keep himself hidden. He wanted a contest of strength? He could have one!

  At once, he redirected his circulation outside, causing his essence to flood the plaza like a broken dam. With all the stress that gathered during the day, it felt good to finally let loose. It wasn’t hard to infuse his aura, he was thoroughly pissed with the whole situation, and he wouldn’t buckle down before some bald dude.

  As his aura swirled and solidified he could feel the mountain range surrounding him shrinking, he could still very much feel it, but matched with his own aura he knew the man was only a little stronger than himself.

  The moment his aura pressed towards the soldiers, they took a step back, as their mail began to clink and sway as if hit by a strong wind. They were visibly taken aback, and they knew well to keep out of whatever would happen next.

  For a few moments, they just stared at each other before the bald man broke into a laughing fit, having to rest on his cane to prevent himself from toppling over. During his laugh, he could feel his aura retreating. “What a feisty Intent you have! Seems like Darren was right to warn me. You can rest at ease, I only wish to speak with you.” With a wave of his hands, the guards retreated back into the city, seemingly with relief. All but the silver one went on their separate ways.

  Seeing him hesitate, the bald man gestured with a hand into the building, “I promise upon the earth that I just want to talk with you. I believe there is much that we should discuss.”

  Thinking it over, Clay eventually followed along. They had to make this place work. They were both tired of constantly moving, fighting for their life and living with the uncertainty of tomorrow.