James Portia Alexander XV

  2510.06.20

  Sola 0

  Portosia, Estancia

  Courtyard of the Alexander Palace

  James had no idea how to convey the information he had figured out to his family. There was no way to sway their opinions or inform them which way they must go. He was at the mercy of the servants and researchers who were hired.

  His unique presence expansion, in combination with his mental presence, had allowed him to look at books that were closed and visualize their contents directly. Over his few years of life, James had read every document on this wing of the palace. And within the past few months, he had read a good half of the library in his search for evidence of the city of miracles.

  He knew it would take the external group ages to be able to figure out where their destination lay. While they had dozens of servants combing the library, not one had to come across all of these pieces of information. It took another series of weeks before they were able to actually depart.

  It was a calm autumn day, their caravan was loaded, and a destination had been chosen by the historians of the court. They were setting course for the South Pole. It was believed that the City of Miracles, and thusly, the Isle of Gods must be at the base of the Tower of Gods. And every human in the world knew that twice a day, at dusk and at dawn, as the sun came and fell right when the light wasn't blinding enough to block out all stars and all orbital bodies, you could see two dotted lines that almost meet somewhere above.

  As if it were the path the gods took to the stars themselves. To James' excitement, it was decided that it must be at one of these towers. However, he was shocked to learn that they had decided it must be the closest tower, as this continent was way more beloved and cherished by the gods. It was believed to be their favorite because it contained more lush greenery and diverse fauna than the other major continent of the world.

  It would be a month-long journey to the most southern city, Dorna. It was a river port city that saw little action, as there wasn't a destination farther south. There they would board a ship, which would then follow a river to the coast. The ship would then sail around the various islands that dotted the southernmost sea. And they would journey to a place where no one had returned.

  For James, this was quite the stressful ordeal. He knew from his research that they had a very low chance of succeeding if they went this way. But there was nothing he could do. He could not talk to his parents, nor to his servants; he had no input into the world, a silent observer.

  The most southern sea was known as the Sea of Death for a reason. All sailors knew to avoid this part of the world; any ship that went that way never returned. There were stories long passed down in legend and in lore, stories that seem to paint a picture of a barren white landscape. A land of ice and snow and endless tundra. Nothing lived down there except for those who were like the gods, but we're not known to be as friendly in the same way that their gods were.

  In some countries, they were called devils. It is said that if one goes towards their realm, one would meet their end. For they are traveling the wrong way, the legends never talked beyond that line. It was believed that suibom only flows one way, to counteract the flow of suibom to counteract his will directly. But knowing this, his father and his court decided to go there anyway. They knew the risk, that no one else had ever come this far and survived. And that reason meant, to them, it must be where the city of miracles existed.

  They set forth, their caravan a mile long. Hundreds of soldiers for protection, hundreds of servants to take care of them, and three dozen members of court hoping to build some semblance of loyalty with the second family. These were lower-ranked families that varied from fiftieth to thirtieth in rank. These people were trying to raise their familial status by helping the second family's son come into the world. They were hoping that if they helped this doll of a boy turn into a man, they would be rewarded by him, or if the journey failed, the wealth and riches of the Alexander house would flow unto them.

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  James agreed with the group; he heard all the rumors, and he knew his father heard the politicking behind the scenes. James swore that if they made it and he was returned into the world, he would honor them and their families. He would do everything in his power to raise their station. It was a price to be paid, and everyone paid prices.

  They knew what they were signing up for, and so he would hold no grief if they died. He would only do his best to keep on living for their sacrifice. He would do anything he could to survive in this world, to be able to touch something, to be able to make an impact, and etch his will into the world around him.

  In the center of the caravan, the largest carriage in the entire assembly was the main coach utilized by the Alexander family. It was a large coach, two stories in height, pulled by fifteen horses. Within were himself, James Portia Alexander XV, his father, James Portia Alexander XIV, his mother, in Marjorie Louisa Alexander, as well as several dozen servants who catered to their every need. They did not sleep within this coach, but rather slept in one of the smaller ones that surrounded it in the caravan.

  At either end, fifty men rode in armored carriages, inventions from the War of Wars, a war that was fought across the entire world a few decades ago. One between the two massive continents that covered the entire world. As soon as it was discovered that on either end was an abyss of death where no man returned, and the room for expansion and exploration was over, Poinclare invaded the northern edge of Lorentz, sparking a decade-long period of conflict between the two major bodies.

  The kingdom of Portasia, the major political body of the continent of Lorentz, backed by the Church of Mobium, defended itself against the tyrannical conglomerates, most notably Xarxarbinia, the second-largest country in the world.

  Each knew the world was flat, that it had an edge you could not pass or you would die. The first reaction was to believe that only one group could truly run the world. It was told that if you stood on the tallest mountain in Poinclare you could barely make out the other land mass on the other side of the world.

  While inevitably concluding to an era of truce, many notable technologies resulted from this war. One of these many technologies were the guardian coaches that made up the Alexander caravan. These large vehicles, made of metal, were supported by the abilities and powers of the makers and designers.

  One could have some semblance of luxury and comfort when traveling on the road. This made long journeys much faster; they were able to do the thousand-mile journey to the edge of the continent within a few weeks, a journey which would normally have taken four to five months if they utilized traditional camping. Pulled by hoards of horses that were bred for the express purpose of carrying large loads, they were enchanted to be lightweight. The insides were roomy, not as roomy as a large palace, as James was used to, but much larger than any commoner's home.

  James utilized this opportunity to expand his awareness and get a better understanding of the world he lived in. It had only been months since he had discovered he could see outside the walls of the palace, and so he was just getting used to how expansive the sky felt. The multitude of fauna, insects, and plants that dotted the landscape they passed through biomes of deciduous forest and swampland.

  The southern road they traveled was very well-paved; it was the main trade route for the entire kingdom. Along this roadway, dozens of caravans, though much smaller in scope, came and went.

  At one point, a week into their journey, they stopped at the second-largest city on the continent, Portancia. It was nowhere near the size of the capital, a place James had only seen a glimpse of as they started their expedition. At that time, he was so shocked by the sheer amount of information that it was muddled in his memory. There had been so many new sights and sounds that he easily became engrossed in minutiae. This was especially so with his newfound powers of the soul; he could see every living person and animal within the entire city.

  Along the way, they had passed cities in the several thousands, but nothing as big as the fifteen million that lived in the capital. Portanica, however, only had a population a third that size. And now, having the experience from all the towns they had passed, he felt a little more comfortable expanding his awareness outside of his coach.

  It was a city of water with canals that flowed in every direction. A tiered city that slowly worked its way up story by story as you got towards the center of itself. In the middle was a large waterfall that seemed to pour out in all directions. At the very top of that waterfall was a large tower, the home of the Tarrish. It was magnificent, a marvelous working of stone and glass that seemed to shimmer with every color in the rainbow. Colors that joined with reflections from other buildings within the city. Giving the water a shimmer as if it were coated in some kind of magic.

  They would be making a stop for a few days to give the horses a rest. They will also resupply for the next leg of their journey. While provisioned for years, most of those supplies had been shipped from across the kingdom to the ship they would meet in three weeks. As the caravans and the horses could only pull so much, and they had so many people journeying with them, it was decided that they would only bring enough to make it to the halfway point.

  They wished to go as quickly as possible; the journey would already be so long. James only had a few months until he turned eighteen. A few months until he was forced to make his declaration to the family. A declaration that had to be made with his own words and not the words of another, his clock was counting down.