The Capital

A New Journey Begins

After wandering the town for a bit, I found a quiet spot with a view of the surrounding desert, a rare moment of peace amidst the hustle and bustle. I decided to finally check the contents of the bag the couple had given me. Inside, I found a small bag of tokens—the currency of this world. I shook my head, touched by their generosity. They had taught me how the money system worked, so I knew these tokens were valuable. I also found a comb, a small but thoughtful item that made me grin, recalling the woman’s words about staying beautiful in any situation. And finally, some wrapped lunches, another gesture that filled me with gratitude. I thanked them silently.

The tokens, as they had explained, were of different shapes, colors, and values. The system was simple yet practical:

- **Bronze tokens**: The most basic form of currency, used for everyday items like bread or basic tools.

- **Silver tokens**: A step up, these could buy you a meal at an inn or small luxuries like a new piece of clothing.

- **Gold tokens**: Rare and precious, gold tokens were used for significant purchases, such as weapons, land, or transport.

Despite the tokens in my bag, I wasn’t interested in buying anything just yet. I was too new here, and the last thing I wanted was to draw unnecessary attention. As I walked through the market, I noticed a wall plastered with posters. It was amusing to see that in a world so different from mine, advertising still existed. There were posters for local bands, festivals, and other events. But one in particular caught my eye—a poster for the "Capital," a large city rumored to be full of opportunities.

That’s it, I thought. That’s where I need to go.

The small town had been kind to me, but I knew I couldn’t stay here. I needed to find a place where I could start a new life, and the Capital seemed like my best bet. As evening approached, my stomach began to rumble, but I decided to save the food the couple had given me for later. I scanned the area, looking for a place to eat. Not too cheap, not too expensive—something in the middle.

A sign caught my eye, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. The inn was called "The Rusty Cogwheel," with a swinging sign shaped like a giant gear. The humor in it drew me in.

I walked inside and was immediately struck by the eclectic mix of people. Strong, burly men with scarred faces, mysterious figures cloaked in shadows, ladies laughing and flirting, small families gathered around tables, and even children running around. The atmosphere was lively, but I knew I had to be cautious. I found a table in the corner, and almost as soon as I sat down, a server approached.

"Anything you need?" she asked, her tone brisk but not unfriendly. She rattled off a few recommendations, but I opted for the cheapest food on the menu and a glass of water.

She nodded, noting my choice. "Water's not the cheapest here, but it’s better than the alternatives," she said with a small smile before hurrying off to fetch my order.

While I waited for my meal, I scanned the room, taking in the scenes around me. Despite the rough edges, there was a warmth to the place. People were playing games, laughing, and even arguing good-naturedly—like something out of a sci-fi movie.

Suddenly, a man stood up on a chair, trying to get everyone’s attention. "Listen up!" he called out, his voice carrying over the din. "We’ve got a lift heading out to various towns, and you won’t find better protection anywhere in this desert! We’ve got the best men guarding the route, so don’t miss your chance!"

He tossed papers into the air, and they fluttered down like oversized confetti. Curious, I grabbed one and read it carefully. It wasn’t a lie—the flyer listed towns, times, dates, and even the names of the guides. The last stop was the Capital, and the price was surprisingly affordable, maybe even too cheap. But I knew in this world, it was hard to tell what was real and what was a scam. Still, it seemed like the opportunity I needed.

After finishing my meal, I decided to rest at the inn for the night. I peered out the window, watching as the town continued to buzz with life even as darkness fell.

When the sun rose, I was already awake. The inn had an old-fashioned clock on the wall, and I noticed I still had two hours before the transport was scheduled to leave. I thanked the innkeeper and handed over the necessary tokens, then stepped out into the bright morning light. The town was just as lively as the day before, with people going about their business, seemingly unfazed by the harshness of the desert.

I made my way to the meeting point, clutching my bag tightly. A small crowd had already gathered—groups of friends, ladies waving their fans, small families huddled together. I stepped into the line, hugging my bag close to my chest, fully aware of the potential dangers.

As I reached the front of the line, the man in charge asked for my name before allowing me to board. I wondered why, but it seemed necessary, so I gave it to him. "Aria," I said, and he nodded, marking it down before letting me onto the large makeshift vehicle.

Inside, people were already chatting with one another, and I noticed a group of men with big guns and weapons—the "protectors" the man had mentioned. I couldn’t help but wonder how dangerous the desert really was. As I glanced around, I spotted the boy from yesterday and immediately knew something was up. I played it cool, tightening my grip on my bag, not wanting to attract attention. Sure enough, the man from yesterday was with him, smirking as if he knew some secret. I rolled my eyes and turned to look out the window, determined not to let them bother me.