TGC 09 In which we reach the town of Hafen

I woke with a start the next morning. Confused at seeing the sun blazing down at me. Unnerved by the sound of water lapping at the sand. It took me a while to realise where we were.

We had done it - I reminded myself.

We had escaped the mine.

Naturally, mother was already wide-awake. Cooking a freshly-caught fish on a resurrected fire.

Once we’d eaten and I’d got all of the fish bones out of my teeth (which took substantially longer than the eating) mother threw some water over the fire and led me along the bank of the water. With the sun bearing down on us, we walked for hour upon hour. It was tiring but unlike in the mine, I could see where we were going. It made me thirsty but unlike in the mine, there was water besides me all the while that I could drink from. I wanted to stop all the while but unlike in the mine, I could always find the strength to keep on going. To keep on walking. To keep on following my mother. With every step, we put more distance between ourselves and the mine.

As we walked, I couldn’t shake the peculiar feeling that something – or someone – was watching me. Hidden by the bushes that grew on the banks of the water. I could never say for certain but there was always a feeling – a feeling of a presence lurking just out of sight. Occasionally, I was sure I glimpsed a small shapeless figure but whenever I turned to look again – I saw nothing. I opened my mouth, to tell my mother but in the end I thought better of it.

On we walked, scrambling over slippery rocks. On we walked, trudging along muddy sands. On we walked, wading through shallow waters. On we walked – getting ever closer to where we needed to be. All the while I looked for Hafen, but in the daytime it was nowhere to be seen. It was strange; at night, the lights of Hafen had blazed like a beacon but now I saw nothing but the banks rising out of the lakes in the distance.

Confused, I asked mother and she explained to me that the lights at night could be seen from great distances, but in the day there was a whole world to see so one could not pick out small details. In all honesty, I’m not sure I believed her but as the sun set and the stars started to pierce the night sky, I saw the lights of Hafen once again. And to my surprise, they were now closer - much much closer. I looked back at the way we’d come, trying to gauge how far we’d travelled, but I found it impossible to spot where we’d slept the night before.

Still, we made our way onwards, until finally I began to make out huts beneath the thousands of lights. And as we approached closer still, I saw that each hut was floating on the water. Then as we came even closer, I saw boardwalks linking the huts to each other and noticed a huge armada of floating ships. Until finally, we found our way blocked by a dwarf with a huge purple beard that stretched down to his knees.

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice seemed unnecessarily rough and unkind to me.

“My name is Scheren and I am from Ruraux.” My mother replied, her voice as polite as the dwarf’s had been uncaring. “This is my child.”

“Goblins from Ruraux,” frowned the dwarf. “You’re a long way from home.”

“We don’t intend to stay,” mother said quickly. “We’re just seeking passage to Nirvaasan. If there’s anyone you know who’s going up the Schwer. We’ll be on the first ship.”

“Nirvaasan!” yelped the dwarf. “You’ll be lucky! There’s only one fool mad enough to venture to Nirvaasan.”

“And what’s his name?” my mother replied anxiously.

“Her name,” corrected the dwarf. “Her name is Manquer.” He paused, before adding. “Are you alright there?”

I looked up at mother. She looked as though she was about to faint.

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