"Golden City… a civilization that thrived with no dependency… a wonder of worlds."
"That's where the story ends, kiddos," said Mastern.
"Oh, come on! We still have five minutes till bedtime… you can continue just a bit more," Rastold wailed.
Mastern closed the book, a smile on his face. He kissed Rastold's cheek. "That's five more minutes for you to ponder the story, young man," he said.
Grunal, who was sitting next to the now-sulking Rastold, spoke with curiosity: "If it is as you told yesterday, Mr. Mastern, how come adventurers still haven't found this world yet?"
"Oh, my curious little lady… long gone are the days when adventurers traveled on their own. These days it has become an occupation, and when art becomes a job it loses its wings and has to stick to rules," Mastern responded.
"But you could be the ones to find it. It has been found before," said Mrs. Mastern.
A wide smile grew on Rastold's and Grunal's faces.
Mrs. Mastern hurried them to bed and laid blankets over them.
"Good night," said Rastold and Grunal in sync.
"Good night and sweet dreams," said Mr. and Mrs. Mastern.
Mr. and Mrs. Mastern left the room and closed the door behind them.
The two twins quietly murmured.
"Do you think it's real?" asked Grunal.
"According to the stories, long ago it was discovered, but then something unknown happened, so now its place remains a mystery… if you ask me, it's just another story," replied Rastold.
"It's not just a story… do you think maybe we'll find it one day?" said Grunal.
"Go to sleep," said Rastold. "You're in over your head."
With a disappointed "hmph," Grunal covered her head with the blanket.
Both eventually drifted off to sleep.
Fifteen years later:
Rastold and Grunal, now both 21 years old…
Rastold worked as an assistant innkeeper, housing adventurers, travelers, and the like,while Grunal worked in a local brewery.
At around 3 p.m., their work would be over, and they would go greet Mr. and Mrs. Mastern down at the orphanage.This was their regular habit.
One day, an adventurer, drunk as though he had drowned himself, came stumbling toward the inn.Rastold, doing his duty, tried his best to stop him from entering, afraid that all of the man's "inner contents" would spill out.
"Out with you, kind sir," demanded Rastold.
In came the adventurer's companions, apologizing for his behavior. It seemed that the man had returned to town after ten long years and was celebrating… they had clearly been partying.
While they were taking their drowsy friend away, the adventurer muttered,"I've seen it all… a glorious, gold-laden place. Ohh, I wish I'd had more than a glimpse, longer than a blink… ohh, what a wondrous view."
"Now, now… this isn't the time for your adventure stories," said one of his companions. "Let's get you home."
Upon the completion of his shift, Rastold packed up and left around 2:30 p.m., heading off to meet with Grunal.
"What an interesting night I had… out came an adventurer, ten long years later," said Rastold.
"Oh, you're talking about Henhelm. His return was much celebrated—there was a whole party at the tavern. Also, it's not night; your shift starts at dawn, same as mine," said Grunal.
"You know what I mean," replied Rastold.
Grunal smiled in a mischievous manner."Alright, I'll stop teasing you… so what about the night you had?" Grunal asked curiously.
"Acted as any drunk would, that Henhelm. But in the midst of his companions dragging him outside, he muttered about a golden place, you know, the ones we've heard stories about." Rastold replied.
"Continue…" said Grunal.
"Yes, be patient… so basically, he mentioned it as if he saw it, asking if he could get more than a glimpse, as though he were in a trance from its beauty," said Rastold.
"Wow… that's pretty interesting. You know, I've been researching, going through books. The stories don't seem far off. The place may actually be real," said Grunal.
"There you go again, with your crazy research. He's just a drunk," Rastold spoke in a stern voice.
"Whatever. You'll eventually realize I was correct when someone finds it," said Grunal.
After bickering here and there for a while longer, Grunal went to the orphanage again, while Rastold waved her off.Once Grunal was out of sight, he went out in search of the adventurer Henhelm.
Upon finding Henhelm's abode, Rastold knocked on his door.
Henhelm opened the door.
"Ahh, you're the innkeep lad from dawn. I do apologize for my behavior, I was filled to the brim from the celebration."
Rastold nodded.
"All is well. I heard you just came back from your adventures, ten long years. Would you mind telling me about your journey? You see, it's a hobby of mine to record the journeys of travelers and the like, and you happen to strike my fancy."
Strike your fancy?" Henhelm chuckled. "Alright then. As you wish, I shall tell you about my adventures."
Henhelm guided Rastold toward his living room, surprisingly clean and well organized.Seeing the look on Rastold's face, he spoke:
"You're surprised, lad, that a drunk like me could keep this house clean and tidy? Well, this is one of the qualities you acquire as you travel the world."
Rastold nodded. "It is indeed surprising."
After Henhelm sat on his couch and Rastold took a chair, both facing each other, Henhelm began his narration.
It was mostly generic travel stories, ones filled with short-term companions, the kind you would hear from most adventurers. He continued to narrate about different kinds of people, different towns, different cultures… all interesting, but things Rastold had heard before.
And then he finished narrating.
"I remember last night you mentioned a golden place, something you wished to see again, more than a glimpse, longer than a blink," said Rastold.
"You've heard nothing, boy," said Henhelm.
"I was sure I heard you say that," said Rastold.
"Like I said, you heard nothing. Now it's getting too late, maybe you ought to show yourself out," Henhelm demanded.
"Apologies, sir. I didn't mean to cause discomfort. I shall take my leave… I do thank you for your time," replied Rastold.
Rastold was bewildered. What could be so sensitive about drunken words?"Maybe he's the sensitive type," he muttered to himself.
Rastold's face now carried a spark of curiosity. He went back home, pondering the entire interaction throughout the night.