The Gate Traveler

I thought Lis was a nice, friendly guy all this time, but I discovered his mean streak the next day. When I got up, a pile of twenty books was on the table. Lis pointed at it, patted me on the shoulder with a smug grin, and said, “Enjoy.”

I scowled and crossed my arms. “It’s not fair! All the books I’ve given you are in English, but each of these is in a different language.”

Lis shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re looking at it wrong. What you see in front of you is knowledge of magic from twenty different worlds. You should be happy it’s in different languages.”

His feeble attempt at justification didn’t fool me; I knew it was revenge. But I wasn’t one to back down. Oh no, I had a plan. A plan involving many, many more books...

I took some money from him and bought Rue a collar and a leash. Rue was okay with the collar but unimpressed with the leash. Every time I clipped it on, he unclipped it.

Who said it was a good idea to give a familiar telekinesis?

Eventually, I gave up and told him, “Have it your way.” After setting out a bowl for him to do his business, I went to look for a pawnshop. I didn’t know if it was the Earth effect or if my Luck stopped working, but it wasn’t my day.

In Baden-Baden, I found a few pawnshops where I sold some jewelry and purchased two burner phones and two computers. Back at the hotel, I set up the devices and began teaching Lis how to use the computer and look things up on the Internet. At first, the computer and especially the concept of the internet intimidated him, and he kept asking me if he was doing it right. But the smile didn’t leave his face once he got the hang of it. Like a kid in a candy store, he kept clicking on links and browsing websites with almost naïve curiosity. Every time he found something new, he exclaimed with joy, his face glowing. It was a side of Lis I hadn’t seen before and was really cute.

For the next two weeks, I immersed myself in a very wordy book about spell construction. Despite my efforts, I still had trouble understanding the writer’s convoluted explanations. It was as if he believed that if the book was less than 500 pages long, it wasn’t worthy of attention. The problem was that he didn’t have enough useful information to fill 500 pages. His solution was to use flowery, complicated language with lots of similes, analogies, hyperboles, redundant phrases, and metaphors that weren’t needed. It was hard to read each page because the paragraphs were too long and seemed to go in circles without actually saying anything.

It had concepts like: “A wizard crafting a spell is akin to a performer composing an enchanted tale about the beauty of the word. The notes represent the elements, while the lyrics represent the aspects. They all work in tandem with the wizard’s will to mold the word.” And this quote is a paraphrase of a paragraph 17 lines long. I counted.

Meanwhile, Lis was up to his ears in books about engineering and mathematics. I often heard him muttering to himself, and occasionally, he cursed loudly at the texts. Most of his cursing was in languages I didn’t know or understand, but I could still recognize curses when I heard them. His angry reactions constantly reminded me of how hard it was for us both to understand too complicated material.

At least after the rain stopped, Rue agreed to walk on a leash outside.

Every evening, when we were done with our studies, Lis and I would explore Baden-Baden and find lovely cafes or restaurants to share our meals. We talked about our studies over plates of schnitzel and glasses of local beer. Lis animatedly explained the complicated parts of engineering or complained about the complexity of the subjects. His complaints about advanced mathematics sounded so familiar I couldn’t help but laugh. Lis couldn’t help but roar with laughter as I shared my observations about mana and magic and went on rants about the writer. I wasn’t even trying to be funny—I meant every word. Other people in the restaurant would often look at us with interest as we laughed because we found humor in how complicated our studies were.

The employees in those places would give me startled, bewildered, or even judgmental looks when I walked in with a big metal bowl in hand, and even more so when I ordered five servings of the same dish—one for me and four for Rue. But then they would shrug, and I almost heard them think, “Crazy American.” Rue sent me feelings of discontent and grumbling that the food wasn’t mana-rich, but that didn’t stop him from eating like three dogs his size. Still, he felt the need to let me know exactly what he thought about my food choices.

Spoiled familiar.

We would walk back to the hotel after dinner, if it didn’t rain or snow, and keep chatting in the lounge, curled up in plush couches with hot cocoa. With warm drinks and comfortable surroundings, it was easier to talk about my past, and I especially enjoyed hearing Lis tell me stories about his travels. He never told me the names of the worlds and kept some information ‘general’ so as not to spoil my enjoyment of my travels or reveal spoilers. However, he had a lot of amusing stories to tell.

During those meals and talks, we grew closer each day, becoming real friends. It amazed and scared me. I had never had a friend before, so it was a new and unique experience. But it also frightened me because I didn’t know how to be a friend. I never learned.

After two weeks, I told Lis, “I think we should relocate to England as planned. We should start looking for workshops.”

“You know this world better, my friend. You decide, and I will follow you.”

We took a train to England, and when we got to London, a border control official informed me, “Your dog needs to be quarantined.”

“Just a second, sir.”

I pretended to look in my backpack and conjured more documents for Rue. When I checked them, they showed Rue had already undergone quarantine. The One of the Crowd ability was fantastic; it significantly simplified life.

Through Airbnb, I found us a two-bedroom apartment in Croydon. Lis continued to study, and I started looking for workshops. After two days on the computer and the phone, I had a list of 50 workshops that I signed us up for every other day. When I showed Lis the list, I feared his face would split in half from his smile.

• Stained Glass-Style Embroidered Sun catcher
• Making a Cut Paperwork Picture
• Raffia Workshop
• 4-Shaft Weaving Workshop
• Drawing Perspectives
• Embossing Workshop
• Street Art Tour and Workshop
• Swing Dancing Class with London Locals
• Traditional Scone-Making Workshop
• Pizza Making Cookery Class
• Sushi Making Workshop
• Chocolate Truffle-Making Workshop
• French Macaron Workshop
• Off-The-Loom Weaving
• Italian Feast Cooking Class
• Taste of Spain Cooking Class
• Watercolour Painting
• Vegetarian Italian Dishes Cooking Class
• Belly Dance Workshop
• Limoncello Masterclass
• Granola Making Workshop
• Paint in the Dark
• Beginner’s Cake Decorating Workshop
• Spanish Tapas Cooking Class
• Mexican Street Food Cooking Class
• Silver Ring Making Class
• Dim Sum Cooking Class
• Indian Miniature Painting
• Fluid Art Bear Workshop
• Perfume Making Class with Essential Oils
• Candle Making Class
• Ethiopian Cooking Class
• Rigid Head Weaving
• Kintsugi Workshop
• Abstract Mixed Media Painting Session
• Bubble Cocktail Making Class
• Japanese Whisky Masterclass
• Bespoke Cocktail Masterclass
• Private DJ Class
• Epoxy Masterclass
• Make a Fascinator Hat With A Designer
• Enamel Jewelry Making Class
• Make Your Own Scrunchie Workshop
• Masterclass in French Cuisine
• Terrarium Workshop
• Glass Blowing Workshop
• Historical Lettering and Printing Techniques
• Screen Printing Workshop
• Flower Arrangement Workshop
• Urban Sketching Tour and Workshop

I had another list for Lis with fifteen workshops I couldn’t attend because I had already done them and converted the points.

Lis said, “Let’s finish the list we will attend together. By then, I will feel comfortable managing the other list independently in the city.”

And that’s what we did for another three months—workshop, study day, workshop, study day, workshop, study day, and so on.

I finally finished the book on spell construction and moved on to a book on magic basics. This book was also very wordy. What’s wrong with these wizards? All the books I’ve read about mana and magic thus far have stated in two or three paragraphs what a single sentence could convey!

At least we had a blast in the workshops.

The swing dance was a lot of fun, and I couldn’t help but notice how amazing a dancer Lis was. As the music faded and we caught our breath, I turned to him with a grin.

“Lis, you were incredible out there,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder.

He shrugged. “It’s all because of my trait numbers,” he explained. “You’ll be just as graceful when you raise yours.”

That was encouraging.

Lis fell even more in love with sushi and decided to keep the skill. The day after the workshop, he dragged me from store to store, buying everything we needed for sushi making. For a week, we ate sushi every single day. I was glad to have a break from cooking, but I was really getting fed up with sushi.

Finally, I couldn’t even look at it anymore and said, “Lis, if you keep eating sushi three meals a day, you’ll end up hating it. Pace yourself so you can enjoy it for years to come.”

He agreed with me. I was back on cooking duty and so happy about it; I didn’t have words.

As Lis and I entered the Belly Dance workshop, the room was alive with anticipation. Twenty women, who were wearing vibrant hip scarves with jingling coins, turned to look at us with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Two elderly women looked at us with disgust and looked like they had eaten a lemon. I couldn’t figure out their problem until the other women in the group were super supportive in covering up the two lemons’ attitude. They thought we were a couple, and the two lemons didn’t approve. The others approve too much. They kept telling us how adorable and romantic we were.

By the end of class, we were both red-faced and panting, but the ladies gave us a big round of applause. While we packed up and left, a few of them waved us off with a happy, “See you next time, you adorable couple!”

The dam burst when we were outside. We burst out laughing when we looked at each other. The sound echoed down the peaceful street, making us double over and grab our sides. “Did you see Sarah’s face when she said we were a lovely couple?” I couldn’t stop laughing, and tears were rolling down my face.

Lis wiped his eyes as he nodded. “And the old lady who made the comment about the bonding activity! This was the best workshop I have ever attended.”

We couldn’t stop giggling as we walked away, enjoying the cool night breeze on our red faces. This kind of thing really brought us closer as friends. We didn’t expect it to be so funny, but now we had a great story to tell.

I decided I liked limoncello and kept the skill, hoping other worlds would have lemons or something similar.

After the Make Your Own Scrunchie Workshop, Lis and I walked out of the small craft store, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Lis held up his creation, a bright pink scrunchie with glittering threads woven through it. He inspected it, turning it in his hands as if trying to comprehend its purpose.

He gave the scrunchie a puzzled look, then waved it like a tiny flag. “I think Earth is weird,” he declared, his tone a mix of amusement and bewilderment.

I chuckled, watching the scrunchie flutter in his hand. “What makes you say that?”

Lis shook his head, still waving the scrunchie. “We just spent two hours making these... hair accessories. Back home, we’d never do something like this. It’s kind of fun, but really strange.”

I laughed, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I guess it is a bit odd when you think about it.”

He tucked the scrunchie into his pocket, giving me a wry smile. “But I have to admit, it was kind of fun. Earth might be weird, but it’s interesting.”

We continued down the street, the scrunchie workshop becoming yet another quirky memory in our growing friendship.

While visiting a pawnshop to sell some of Lis and my jewelry, I had an idea when I saw a nearby antique store. I walked around the corner, and after verifying I was alone, I took out one sword, conjured documents showing ownership and history, and went to the antique store. The history papers were very sneaky. The history papers didn’t directly state that the sword was crafted on Earth, but they provided a comprehensive description, using highly professional language, of the time and location where comparable materials and smithing techniques were used on Earth. I gave the system a thumbs up for the sneakiness and workaround without lying. The seller enthusiastically examined the sword and accompanying documents and offered me £1,000. I sold him the sword, and when I returned home, I took out all the weapons I had in Storage.

Luckily, I did it while standing in the hallway’s doorway. Otherwise, the swords would have cut me into ribbons. We didn’t have a living room anymore, but a pile of weapons up to the ceiling.

Lis came running to check the noise, skidding to a halt at the entrance to the living room. He just stared at the massive pile of swords, axes, and other weapons, his eyes wide in shock.

He turned to me, his mouth slightly agape. “That’s a lot of weapons.”

“Yep.” I picked up a shiny sword.

“That’s a huge number of weapons,” he repeated, stepping closer to get a better look.

“Yep,” I replied, placing the sword back down and moving to the next item.

“Why do you have so many weapons?” Lis asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“When traveling in Shimoor,” I began, picking up a rusted dagger, “I saw a general store selling old swords that cost a few coppers. I purchased one, cast Restore on it, and it returned to its original state. I bought all the stock, and it turned out that the shopkeeper had a shed full of weapons, so I also bought them. When I traveled from town to town, I would buy all the cheap old weapons, and in every capital city I visited, I would go to the blacksmiths’ area and bowyers and buy all their old, damaged weapons for cheap; I just put them all in Storage, and slowly I restore them.”

“And what are you going to do with them now?”

“I thought I’d conjure documents for them to sell at an auction house,” I explained, shrugging as I picked up another weapon.

“Keep at least one of each type of weapon for yourself.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know if you’ve already discovered this fact, but with the Guidance, more is better. You want a fighting class, so your class will be better if you learn to wield as many weapons as possible. I promised to train you with a sword, and I can train you in knife fighting. You already have Archery, so learn to fight with the other weapons.”

“I have staff fighting, too,” I told him, returning an axe to the pile.

“Did you buy it for points or learn ‘the hard way’?”

“The hard way.”

“Very good,” he said, nodding approvingly. “So, practice throwing knives, throwing axes, fighting with an axe, fighting with a longsword, crossbow, and any sword fighting method you can find a workshop or class for. This will ensure that you get a better class.”

“Ok, thank you,” I said, grateful for his advice as I continued sorting the weapons.

Lis went back to studying, and I started sorting the weapons. I put aside the ones I had already restored and the ones in terrible shape. I selected all the different weapons to learn and then went through the rest.

Most of them were in average condition, and I restored them, but not completely. I wanted to keep some mana, and I didn’t want the weapons to look too new. I would restore each item to a condition where it showed its use without being excessively damaged or falling apart, apply a Clean spell, and then set it aside. This process took me over two months, with breaks to regenerate more actively. On Earth, my regeneration was three points per minute; with active regeneration, it was five points per minute. The mana amounts here were too low. At least my channels were slowly expanding more and more; soon, I’d be ready for another spiral.

I did the same with the bows and some leather armor, adding all the Shimoorian arrows to the pile. In total, I had 512 items, not including the arrows. Most of them were melee weapons and shields, with some bows and leather armor thrown in.

During this time, Lis and I became closer and closer friends. At our regular dinners, we never ran out of topics to discuss and often laughed to the point of tears. I noticed that the closer we got as friends, the more physically expressive Lis became. He would touch my hand when we talked, hold my arm to direct my attention to something, give me a friendly pat on the back, playfully tousle my hair when I made him laugh, and several times, after I helped him with something, he would hug my shoulders. The first few times, it surprised me and made me feel uncomfortable. But it was obvious to me he meant nothing by it. He was simply a person who expressed his affection through touch.

After thinking about it some more, I realized he came from a different world, or more precisely, from many different worlds that didn’t have Earth’s hangups about physical contact between men. For him, it was simply a way to show his affection towards me. Once I understood that, I felt completely comfortable with it, and I also became more free with physical gestures on my part.

After I prepared all the weapons I wanted to sell, I concentrated and conjured documents for them. I wanted proof it was mine, proof of ownership history, and some documentation of the weapon. It cost me 3,000 mana, and I got a stack of documents half as thick as a phone book. The package contained documents showing that my great-grandfather started the collection and my grandfather increased it. There was documentation for each item, including the work around historical records, a will in which my grandfather bequeathed everything to me, and documents proving that I had paid all the taxes on the collection. It was good that the ability took that into account; the taxes didn’t even cross my mind.

I found a short-term rental warehouse, bought boxes to store the weapons, packed everything so it wouldn’t look like an enormous pile, and took a cab to Christie’s.

At Christie’s, I approached the receptionist and asked, “I have an extensive collection of medieval weapons my grandfather left me in his will, and I want to sell them. Who do I contact about this?”

The receptionist looked up from her computer and asked, “Do you have documentation?”

“Yes,” I replied, holding up a folder.

“Wait here; I’ll call the weapons appraiser.” She picked up the phone and made a call.

After a few minutes, a man in his fifties, wearing a costly suit, arrived. He spoke briefly with the receptionist before approaching me with a warm smile.

He extended his hand. “I’m Parker Walker; pleased to meet you.”

I shook his hand firmly. “John Ripper, nice to meet you.”

“I understand you have a collection of weapons for sale?” he inquired, glancing at the folder in my hand.

“Yes, I have all the documents here,” I said, holding up the folder.

He led me to an office off the main lobby and gestured for me to sit. “Would you care for tea, coffee, or perhaps something cold to drink?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” I replied, settling into a comfortable chair.

“May I see the documents?” he asked, his eyes already looking at the folder eagerly.

I gave him the folder, and he meticulously reviewed each document for the next hour. I watched as his expression grew more and more pleased by the minute.

After reviewing the documents, he looked up with a broad smile. “Christie’s would be delighted to host your auction. How shall we arrange for the collection of the weapons? Are they in the United States?”

“No, they’re already here in London. I can hire a truck and bring them over tomorrow,” I replied.

Parker shook his head and smiled. “There’s no need for that. We’ll be happy to provide transport services.”

I signed a sales contract with Christie’s, and we parted ways. I gave him the warehouse address, and we agreed they would collect the weapons the next day. The next day, a truck arrived with two movers, and they took everything.

A few days later, I saw an extensive article about the “Ripper Collection” and its historical importance. I felt uncomfortable because it wasn’t historical, but then I decided that if someone spends money on a weapon to hang on the wall, they can afford it. I also found it amusing that my last name fit the theme of the collection. After all, you had to be a ripper to use all these weapons.

While waiting for the collection to sell, I enrolled in the London Longsword Academy for lessons in side swords, longswords, daggers, smallswords, and rapier.

I enrolled in Schola Gladiatoria for Sword Fighting (HEMA), Sabre, and Cutlass.

I also signed up for classes in Battodo, Wudang Taiji Sword, Unarmed Striking and Grappling, Poleaxe and Spear Weapons, Kenjutsu, German & Italian Longsword, British Military Saber, Staff & Dagger Work, Sword & Shield Fighting, Kory Iai, Dento Nihon Kobudo Jikan Kai, Muay Thai, MMA, Choi Kwang Do, Stick Fighting, Axe Fighting, Axe Throwing, and Knife Throwing.

The collection sold for over £700,000, leaving me shocked and thrilled.

I continued training almost daily in various schools and dojos while Lis studied. He finished all the books I gave him, and I gave him the next batch, which was even bigger. Sadly, he didn’t react to the amount; he just thanked me and returned to studying.

Life was so unfair sometimes. Oh well, at least I made a lot of money.