Nectarshire 1006 PGE

  It was a sunny day in Nectarshire, the type of day, where the light creeps into every surface, waking people earlier, but in recompense filling them with boundless zeal. A pleasant smell courtesy of dozens of flowers arranged neatly on the side of roads and hanging from windows flowed through the streets contributing to the idyllic atmosphere. The houses were constructed of stone, laid naturally yet securely giving a sense of unending, eternal, stagnant peace. In the center of the town was a sculpture in the middle of a fountain displaying some inhumanly beautiful man or woman that stood upright with it's eyes closed and yet an arm was missing from the statue giving it a feeling of flawed missed perfection in the center of the otherwise perfect town. The water pooled at the foot of the statue bubbled and a hand reached to the lip of the fountain before an entire body extracted itself from the surprisingly deep waters of the fountain.

  "May have overshot ground level," a bit Banks said to himself as he winced at the feeling of the water from the River filling him again, giving him a feeling comparable to pins and needles, in the same way that third degree burns are comparable to accidentally brushing your hand against the stove. "I didn't do it," he immediately said, upon seeing the broken arm of the statue. When he had crashed down he had specifically remembered not hitting anything important and his memory was never wrong or self-serving. A large hand grabbed him by his shirt and he was bodily lifted out of his swimming hole and none-too-gently deposited on the ground.

  "Well that it an ugly fish," a rough voice condescended to him, and he looked to see a large man with a red star-shaped beard. "Any reason why you went around fishing in my fountain boy."

  "I doubt you would look your best if you've just been through the shit that I've been through," Banks defended himself as sat up from his position on the ground. "So what is the name of this..." he scanned the place that he ended up, noting that he was in the middle of a town square, with stalls, a noticeboard, and a few musicians who sat at various points charming the townsfolk. It felt quite idyllic and while normally he would append the adjective sickeningly to that descriptor his worn out nerves just made it feel rather nice. "Town."

  "This town is called Nectarshire," the man said with notable pride. "Named for the sweet waters that flow from the river Nectarburn, that supplies our small town. Have you come from far away?"

  "1006," Banks muttered to himself. "Geographically I don't think so. How is the fishing in the Nectarburn?"

  "Fantastic," the man said. "Are you a fisherman yourself?"

  "Only recreationally nowadays," Banks admitted. "I'm called Banks. What's your name stranger?"

  "I'm Skulty," the man said. "You can call me a mason of sorts. I was involved with restoration or creation of half the houses in this town. I personally worked on fixing up this statue."

  "Fixing up, not creating?" Banks said as he stood up wringing some of the water out of his clothes. "That's an interesting choice of words. Was Nectarshire destroyed previously and then you lot moved in?"

  "Yeah," the man said, his face steeped in nostalgia. "Yeah, it must have been. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were all fleeing the Golden Empire, things got worse and worse every year. Order was collapsing, taxes were increasing, barbarians repeatedly sacked our towns and those few who survived were conscripted by the nobles and thrown into the meatgrinder that the army had become. We all headed west and founded Nectarshire free of the rotting Empire. Through the hard work of everyone we built this thriving town."

  "Looks like your work paid off," Banks admitted looking at the happy town. He had seem far, far worse. He tended to be cynical towards smaller towns, product of his childhood, but it seemed like a town that anybody would be proud of. "What's good around here?"

  "There's the tavern if you want to drink with a few mates, but it is a bit early in the day," the man said. "You can go take a look at the park. It's quite close to here. Some of my best statuing is in that park. You can also go fishing if it's all recreational to you."

  "All of those sound appealing," Banks admitted, before he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his pouch of coins. A quick weighing of the pouch was enough for him to determine that not much, if any was missing. I've got a bunch of coins, but I'm not sure how valid they will be," he admitted pulling out a few that were embossed with the mug of the Undying Emperor, a person who wouldn't be born for another two hundred years.

  "Well, shit, they might be a bit valuable if we can get old Jerrnie down by the forge to melt them down and shape a lot of the pretty iconography off. I mean there are mines to the north but none of them exactly mine silver and a healthy dose of some currency is never a bad thing to have according to old Jerrnie. Mind paying a visit to the forge, see what they are worth."

  "I've got time," he spoke truthfully. It was the one thing he never lacked.

  "Great, great, great," the man said. "Well I would be joining you, but I hear that the Sunlight Sovereign himself is paying a visit past this little area surveying the lands and we technically fall in his territory. Although I've got no love for rulers myself, it's not a bad idea to spruce up the town a bit, maybe he'll throw a bit of sunshine on Nectarshire."

  "The Sovereign of Light," Banks said, his mind conjuring the legendary figure from the history books. "You think he will actually visit this town? And this sprucing up requires the use of a stonemason?" Banks raised an eyebrow, causing the man to lean in conspiratorially.

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  "Well I'm a very important member of this town," he said pumping out his chest. "And we've made a statue celebrating his holiness the King of Light Himself, long may he reign. While he is only passing through this area I've heard a rumor that he has been visiting town to town, and we may just be next."

  "Incredible," Banks admitted. "Well I won't take away anymore of your time. Can you point me to Jerrnie?"

  "Just head that way," he said pointing North towards the part of town that sat against the Sierra mountains or whatever the fuck they called it in this time period. "Jerrnie's forge is the one that looks like it's been dipped in copper. I've offered to make him a nice stone forge many times but he keeps ignoring me. He can be a bit of a grump."

  "Don't worry I'll just be my charming self," Banks said flashing his attempt at a winning smile. "Much appreciated Skulty." The man gave him a cheerful wave in response and Banks headed north, although not before stopping at a few stalls on the way past. Unfortunately for the traveler most of them were using some copper coins, or even bartering, which once again left him broke. There was even another magician who was selling spells. One of which was the ability to make a pseudo-familiar out of water, which was a spell that he made a note to acquire sometime and give a copy to his sister so that she could make it usable. He was even freely given a small bowl of soup inside a leaf by an old lady who fell for his charm and he in exchange told her a story about the great migration of the Undipshasim tribe, and the story of the first Shadow Shaman Ryjke Kineater whose name had otherwise long been forgotten by history.

  It was a pleasant stroll northward. There was no garbage in the streets, no shit smell of farm animals, no belligerent neighbors yelling at each other. This would be the perfect town for his sister to live in and he briefly wondered just where she was at this time. She was probably still in Skullnexus, she didn't really like moving around a lot. Unlike him who was a venerable explorer, but a town like this may convince him to settle down, for a few weeks at least, and then maybe a few months, a few years, a few decades. He snapped out of his contemplation before realizing that nearly an hour had passed in his daydreams and he frowned. Him falling into his own world was not unusual, but him falling into his own world while actively looking for something was. This town seemed to act like a soporific, not so much physically, but towards his ambitions, his actions. Even the reasonable stress that he felt recently was bleeding out of him.

  "Have to find the forge," he repeated to himself, rapping his head as if trying to nail in the thought. Focusing it only took another few minutes before he found the house, with nearly no difficulty. Unlike the perfectly picturesque image of the other houses, this felt bold, brash, an affront to the image thrown up by the rest of the buildings. Garishly covered in a copper color the building trumpeted it's differences, seeming to reject the life imposed by the rest of the city. Smoke poured out of the sole chimney, vomiting great clouds of blackness that dispersed unnaturally in the air, foulness turning to sweetness too quickly, leaving Banks with more and more suspicions.

  He walked forward, past the rocky garden and rapped his knuckles on the metal door. A few moments passed in which the only sound was the roaring of the forge on the other side of the door and then he slammed his fist into the door, causing it to let off a horrific screech of metal. The forge quieted down for a moment, before a few heavy footsteps approached the door and then it swung open revealing a furious looking bald man.

  "Who the fuck is disturbing my work," the man said, looking down at Banks who was two full heads shorter than him, before his eyes changed as he looked closer. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing in this town?"

  "To answer your questions in reverse order," Banks started. "I'm a traveler. I'm Banks the Traveler. I have only worthless silver coins at the moment and I was hoping to rectify the situation."

  "What do you want a job," the gruff man said. "I'm afraid we don't hire your type here?"

  "My type," Banks said smiling. "I wonder what do you mean by my type."

  "People with hope in their eyes," the taller man said. "People who are not ready to die just yet. Mark my words kid, this village isn't for you."

  "Kid," Banks said. "Just how old do you think I am?"

  "Anything under one hundred is a child to me," the man said.

  "Then I'm still not a child," Banks said staring at the man dead on. "And I would like to change my coins." The two stood in silence for a moment as they stared at each other, before the larger man stepped to the side.

  "Come in then and bring your coin," he said gruffly. "I'm Jerrnie if we must be on first name terms."

  "Great Jerrnie ," Banks said bringing out his coin pouch and depositing a load of silver coins on the wooden table at the side of the room. "I need you to change these into the local currency. Can you do that?"

  "Did you rob a tomb or something," Jerrnie said taking a seat by the table as he picked up a single silver coin and examined both sides. "I'm not judging but I've never seen any of these coins and I consider myself exceedingly well travelled."

  "No tomb was robbed," Banks said, deciding not to admit that they were from the future.

  "I'm not judging," the man said weighing the coin pouch in his hands. "If those dead kings and emperors are not going to use it then I see nothing wrong with taking it from them."

  "No respect for the dead?" Banks asked.

  "No respect for those dead," the man said. "When we left the Golden Empire they had just split into four successor states, all claiming to be the rightful heir of the Golden Emperor."

  "The Empire split into four around six hundred PGE," Banks said rifling through his memory. "That must mean you are over four hundred years old. Looking good for that age. You must be either a great magician or well versed in the longevity scripture or both."

  "When I was younger I could proudly claim to be a magician among the best in forging artefacts," the man admitted, his eyes looking at something far away. "But my skills have long stagnated. The greatest regret of my life was not leaving the Empire, but not leaving further. When we settled down in this ruined village and rebuilt it, naming it Nectarshire I should have ran." The man picked up the coin pouch and threw them back towards Banks who caught them in one hand. "Leave this place, before you forever regret it."

  "Tell me what this is about," Banks repeated, his eye twitching as his rage burst through the feeling of tranquility. "I fucking hate when you old bitches who have the answers have fucking temerity to act all cryptic. Fucking tell me." He slammed his hands into the table, and got a muffled thunk in response and his eyes widened in fury as he saw his body becoming transparent. "No, no, no, no. No fucking no. I am not fading out at a time like this. This is bullsh___" his voice trailed off, becoming softer and softer as if far away. Supremely annoyed, he took one last look at the large bald man who was staring at him in horrified confusion before he raised a single middle and disappeared from this point in time.