Anamnesis: Book 1

Chapter 16

Leviathan was on his own now. He had a surprisingly rough time setting out alone and tried to brush off any lingering feelings of sentiment and disappointment. Abandoning his ways of deceit and trickery, he had shifted his focus. He knew that he needed to revise his plan of action, though he was stumped in figuring out what it was he needed to do next. The only idea he could conjure up was to head to Polis, based on an inkling of some deep-seated notion. Polis was a large and lavish town, a few hours West and across Ramshorn River (A river given its name because of its odd horn shape.) The weather was always warm there, albeit it rained more than he fancied. Most of the town was made up of cottages and shops, lining the cobbled streets and reminding Levi of the Renaissance. Thankfully, unlike the days of old, hygiene was still of great importance, and the townsfolk kept clean and tidy. The town was well known for its wealth and even more so for its greed and snobbery. The men had made their living early on, mining their days away to reprieve precious stones and ore. It didn't take long for them to build their wealth, abandoning their hard work and relying on cunning to make deals with cutthroats and shopkeepers alike. These men now walked upright, groomed themselves feverishly, and began the charade of their status. You could almost believe them, if not for the dirt that still stained their hands from their days as miners. Many wore gloves to hide this fact, as though their origins were shameful. And the women were no better, marrying men for what lies in their pockets rather than in their hearts. They flaunted their gains with one another, sporting their fashions and outrageous hairdos with false pride. You would see no children in this town, for those that did not suit their needs were not offered residence. Levi felt distressed for making his way there and would have avoided it if not for the feeling in his gut that urged him onward. As much as he cursed his intuition, it had never led him astray. Therefore, he would not abandon it now, even if the destination was far from desirable.

He arrived just after noon, and as luck would have it, the rain had settled in. It was no more than a light drizzle, but he felt the chill from his wet clothes nonetheless. Inside the town, he found the streets nearly empty. This was likely due to the prudence of the people on their appearance and how the rain would soil it. What little remained of those who braved the weather looked upon Levi with both distrust and distaste. That is, aside from a few of the women who eyed him as though he were their next savory meal. He avoided making eye contact, settling instead on the few small booths and shops that lined the town square. There were more than enough jewelry and apparel shops, which Levi scorned vehemently. Of course, he was also a man whose fingers itched for rarities, but he had not let his desire turn him blind. After all, most of Leifhelm had suffered, while the people in Polis lived on as though they lived their entire lives there. Truthfully, it was likely they hadn't any interest in returning to the old world. For what awaited them was uncertainty, and many would not choose to relinquish their wealth for the unknown. Levi scorned them all the more before a glint caught his eye. It shrouded his vision in white light, startling him before it quickly gave way and his sight slowly regained focus. His eyes darted back and forth in search for the source, only to stumble upon an elder man not more than fifty yards away. He stood in front of a small, turquoise building. The wooden planks were worn with age, and it seemed out of place among the newly decorated shops beside it. What caught his attention, however, was that in the man's wrinkled hands he held a compact mirror and Levi knew this had been what caused the glint in his eye. The man had been watching him, trying to get his attention. Though wary, Levi once again felt the spark of his intuition urging him forward. The closer he came, the more of the old man's features he could make out. His head was white as a snow-topped mountain, his eyes, perched behind a pair of brass frames, as blue as the mountain springs. He was dressed in casual clothes, just a simple white shirt and a pair of suspenders that latched on to a pair of khaki pants. His leather shoes were recently shined, though they still held a few scuffs from everyday wear. Unlike the flashy and expensive tastes of the townspeople, the man had seemed quite ordinary. When Levi was close enough to speak, the man gestured him inside the building with a shaky hand. Levi followed, though not without apprehension, through the crooked, wooden door. At first, the darkness of the room enveloped him, and he halted at the entrance. He could hear the man carry forward, shuffling across the shop in a way that Levi found unsettling. After a few seconds, he could hear the strike of a match, and the yellow flame was held to a tall, white candle in a brass holder. Levi could barely make out the images in the room, with shelves that housed shadows he could not determine. The old man again lit a second candle, setting it on the counter in front of him and lighting the way. The shapes that Levi had seen were of the oddest assortment of things. Shelves lined every wall, with knick-knacks tightly packed together. There were figures, ornaments, jewelry and even dolls. Most looked handmade, though there was a distinct musk and color that eluded to their age. There was nothing in the shop that seemed new, which puzzled Levi all the more. One again the man gestured Levi over, and he, again, followed obediently. The floorboards creaked as Levi made his way to the counter in the center of the room, the wet of his clothes chilling him with each step.