Borealis
The city was beautiful.
‘Euphoric’ was the only word Gabriel could think of that properly described the sight of coloured lights and tall, dark buildings half-hidden behind a veil of dancing snow. Borealis was ten times larger than his hometown, and while he was deeply fond of Frenglia, seeing this place filled him with an urge to explore, to understand its beauty and soak up everything it had to offer.
His view was slightly limited from inside the hooded carriage, but he could see well enough to appreciate what lay ahead. It was a bumpy ride; he braced himself as they clattered over a particularly rough section of road. It was more ice than stone, a gruelling stretch of terrain barely more navigable than the white wilderness surrounding it.
‘I’m still sorry that we couldn’t take you to your hometown,’ said the man driving the carriage.
‘You don’t need to apologise,’ said Gabriel sincerely. ‘You did the right thing. I am grateful for the chance to see your city.’
The driver glanced halfway over his shoulder before turning back to concentrate on the road. He and his merchant caravan had been passing through the alpine forest that surrounded Frenglia when they were set upon by a wolf pack. Caught by surprise, they might have been doomed to succumb. Gabriel, meanwhile, had been out hunting with his bow. Stumbling across the frightening scene, he did his best to drive the animals away. He succeeded, but not without some wounds; punctures and gashes in his arms and legs that had bled through the bandages the merchants put on him.
Uncertain where the elf hailed from, they had decided to carry him to their home city of Borealis a day’s ride away. Gabriel had only woken up a few hours ago, groggy from a medicinal potion and still very sore. While the merchants had been quick to apologise, he held no grudge against them.
At the time, the city had still been invisible; though quite close, the driving snow and fog had concealed it behind a veil of pure winter. Only now could Gabriel actually appreciate the sight of the place. And it spellbound him.
‘How are you feeling?’ asked the driver.
‘Well enough.’ In truth, he was sore, stiff and hungry. They’d given him a snack when he first regained consciousness, but he didn’t want to request more food. Running out of supplies in the wilderness could kill them all, and he wouldn’t feel safe until they arrived at the city proper.
‘Hmm.’ The driver’s tone indicated disbelief, but he didn’t push it. ‘Borealis is close now. Only a half hour more.’
The plodded on, the horses’ insulated hooves crunching through snow that reached their ankles at times, yet they never slowed and the wheels of the carts never stuck. They might have been caught off-guard by the wolf pack, but these people weren’t new to travelling in harsh conditions. They had all of the right equipment to handle the heavy snow and slippery roads.
Gabriel looked at the city gates. A few minutes ago they had barely been visible. Now he could see the individual black stones that they were constructed from. Before long, he could see the bustling plaza on the other side of the gates and the warmly-dressed guards who flanked them, their spears reflecting the glow of many different coloured lights.
The locals had used magic to create the coloured flames in the streetlamps. Horses and carts clattered along cobblestone roads; the animals looked to be the same hardy, fluffy breed as the ones pulling Gabriel’s carriage. The plaza had a great many storefronts, their windows well-lit to showcase their wares, which ranged from baked goods and cuts of meat to magical items and children’s toys. And there were people everywhere despite the fact that it was almost nightfall and freezing cold. There were various species too – Gabriel saw one cart being driven by a lean dragonman and a pair of young werewolves window shopping outside a clothes store.
‘--OK?’ The driver was speaking to him, but he hadn’t even noticed.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Is everything OK? You’re very quiet back there. I imagine the city is a bit much, isn’t it?’
‘It is… busier than I expected,’ Gabriel admitted.
The driver let out a faint chuckle. ‘Try rush hour, my friend. This is barely anything.’
He shook the reins, urging the horses onwards through the parting crowds. The rest of the merchant caravan followed. Most of the locals didn’t even spare them a glance. The road sloped gently upwards, causing Gabriel to tip further back in his seat while the horses simply increased their pace and powered up the hill with little effort.
‘Nearly there!’ said the driver over his shoulder – perhaps nervous about his injured passenger’s long silence. ‘The hospital’s just ‘round this corner.’
‘The what?’ said Gabriel. ‘I thought that we were going to see a healer.’
‘Yes, that’s what the hospital’s for.’
Clearly Frenglia didn’t have a ‘hospital’, and Gabriel was left to assume that it was a special rank of healer known only in this city until they rounded the corner and a large building came into view. The flames that illuminated its exterior were entirely silver, unlike the merry array of hues that filled the streets behind them. The words ‘Royal Borealis Hospital’ had been painted with great care above the doors.
‘Here we are,’ said the driver, steering them into what looked like a large, open stable on the left side. With the horses now at a standstill, he jumped down and tethered them to a convenient post. Gabriel lay in the semidarkness, watching silver fire flickering behind the canvas wall of the carriage.
The movement of the carriage and the unfamiliar visions outside had given him something to focus on. Now the gnawing pain came back vindictively, as though the wolves he had shot were returning in spirit form to sink their ghostly teeth into his legs in revenge.
When the driver returned, he was accompanied by two people in white robes who must have been medics. They carefully lifted Gabriel out of the carriage and transferred him to a stretcher.
‘Listen, I have to go,’ said the carriage driver, patting him on the shoulder. ‘But this lot will take care of you.’
‘What is your name, sir?’ asked one of the medics as they carried him inside. Through the double doors was a bustling reception with more people in white robes striding purposefully back and forth.
‘Gabriel Summerfall, sir,’ he responded.
‘Well, Mr Summerfall, welcome to Borealis Hospital. Try to relax. We’ll have you fixed up soon, like nothing ever happened.’
He thought briefly of home. He imagined the concerned faces of his friends and family who had no idea that he was miles away, among strangers. Despite the momentary pang of homesickness that accompanied the thought, he knew that he would only be going home for a short while. He needed to see the rest of this beautiful city.
‘Thank you,’ he said, placing his trust in them.