The Gate Traveler

Lis needed Mahya’s help with a project he was working on, so I went to the clothing wholesaler without her. She gave me ten thousand euros and told me to buy her stock, preferably in bright colors. Alfonsen joined me for the shopping trip. Apparently, he wasn’t interested in going over blueprints.

When I walked into the biggest fabric wholesaler warehouse in Beijing, I felt like I had stepped into a rainbow explosion. The place was enormous, with rows upon rows of fabric rolls stacked from floor to ceiling. It was initially overwhelming—just a sea of colors and textures as far as the eye could see. I could smell new fabrics and a hint of chemicals in the air. It didn’t smell bad, but it was still a bit too strong.

Fabric bundles were everywhere in every color—reds, blues, greens, and every shade in between. Some rolls were so colorful they almost stung my eyes. From every direction, I could hear a mix of voices speaking Chinese. I thought about spending the mana to learn Chinese for a moment, but a smiling lady approached me before I could.

She asked in English, “Hello, sirs. How can I help today?”

Well, no Chinese required. “I’m here to buy fabric, but I want to look around first.”

She nodded and motioned towards the aisles. “Please go browse. When you reach decision, call salesperson.”

I strolled through the aisles, feeling the various fabrics—silky ones that slipped through my fingers like liquid, velvets with a pleasant weight, and soft cottons. You could easily lose track of time here. With Mahya’s instructions and a sizeable amount of cash, I knew I was going to walk out of there with some serious loot.

Browsing between the aisles, I glanced at Alfonsen and asked, “You said you wanted to fill the missing class slots. Do you know which ones you want?”

He shook his head slightly. “No.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what classes do you have?”

 “I am a Monarch [in training] and a Heavy Warrior, and I hold the Profession of an Alchemist,” he said, with his nose up in the air and sounding very proud of himself.

“Heavy Warrior?” My eyebrows shot up. “How did you even get that?”

“I cleared dungeons and mana occurrences.”

“Alchemist sounds interesting.”

He frowned and looked disgusted. “I find it unpleasant. To be more precise, I derive pleasure from the brewing process, but it compelled me to dig in the mud to gather the plants. I lament that I pursued this profession.”

“Then why did you take it?” I asked, puzzled.

He sighed. “It awards 4 points to vitality, and I aspire to extend my life,” he said, his voice tinged with resignation.

I nodded slowly. “So, you’ll probably have to level it up to benefit.”

“Yes,” he admitted, though he didn’t look happy about it.

“And what do you have to do for the Monarch class [in training]?” I asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated for a moment before responding. “It is incumbent upon me to conduct myself in a regal manner in every circumstance and project a dignified image.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Doesn’t sound right to me. From what I learned from Lis, to advance a class, you have to study and then do things based on what you learned. Just acting in a certain way or projecting an image doesn’t get you anywhere.”

 “I am uncertain as to which subject to pursue,” he said, sounding uncertain and again getting the lost puppy look.

I patted him on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. “Let me think about it; I’ll find you something.”

After buying a large stock of fabrics for Mahya and me, I returned to the hotel and looked into my Storage. I sifted through all the books I bought to find something suitable for Alfonsen. I came across The Republic by Plato, but after some thought, looked for something more practical and grounded in universal values—something that wouldn’t just philosophize about justice but would provide clear, actionable principles. After a few minutes, I found a small booklet on Human Rights. Unlike Plato’s idealistic vision, I felt human rights focused on the inherent dignity and freedoms everyone should possess, regardless of status or societal role. It seemed like a good starting point.

I gave the booklet to Alfonsen and told him, “Study this, and we’ll discuss it.”

He took the booklet and looked at it with disdain, his lip curling. “I do not comprehend how this might be of assistance,” he remarked, his tone dripping with skepticism.

“Read it, and you tell me.”

I went looking for Lis and Mahya and found them still busy with their blueprint. Their heads were bent over it, and they argued about some placement or something. I Cleared my throat to get their attention and said, “We need to rent a warehouse or something. I bought a large stock of fabrics and need to tell the factory where to deliver them. The hotel won’t be too happy to receive deliveries by the truckload.”

Lis looked up and asked. “We’re not leaving Beijing?”

“Yes, soon, once we’re done with all the wholesalers. There’s an enormous selection here, and Mahya and I have a lot of money we need to convert into merchandise.”

Lis hummed quietly, nodded to himself, and said. “I should join you when you buy tools, especially small ones. I’m sure I’ll find various things here to help with my class.”

“Good idea,” I agreed. “Then I’ll start looking for a warehouse.”

I found a warehouse to rent for a short period, and the three of us went between wholesalers and bought stock. Alfonsen trailed behind us, alternating between the lost puppy look and judgemental huffs, looking at us down his nose.

Lis was not interested in buying goods for sale because, as he put it, “I have more money than I know what to do with; I’m interested in useful things.”

At the hotel, Alfonsen seemed constantly lost in thought, his brow furrowed as he paced around the suite’s living room. After three days like this, he finally came to talk to me.

“I disagree with the document you gave me to consider,” he stated firmly, sounding frustrated.

I looked up from the book I was reading. “What do you disagree with?”

He huffed slightly, crossing his arms. “The first section, for example: ‘All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.’ I am a prince; I have more dignity and more rights. It is unseemly to compare me to a commoner.”

I leaned back in my chair, meeting his gaze. “The fact that you are a prince is just a chance of birth. You could just as well have been born as the son of a baker or a shoemaker. So, think about it and tell me what gives you more dignity and rights regardless of the circumstances of your birth. What traits in your character or what have you done to benefit others that gives you more dignity and rights?”

He frowned and looked at me for a long time. A couple of times, I thought he wanted to argue; he even opened his mouth but then closed it. Finally, after two or three minutes, he nodded, turned on his heels, and left.

The next day, at breakfast, I was about to get up with Lis and Mahya to return to our room, but Alfonsen grabbed my arm and stopped me. I looked at him with raised eyebrows, but he was looking after Lis and Mahya.

After they were out of earshot, he said in a small, uncertain voice, “Nothing.”

It took me a minute to remember what I asked him and understand that he answered my question.

“So reread the declaration with this viewpoint and see if it makes more sense,” I suggested.

“I will, thank you,” he replied, sounding surprisingly sincere.

“You’re welcome,” I said, still processing his unexpected gratitude—it was the first time he thanked any of us.

Later that evening, he came to me again, his expression puzzled. “I do not comprehend Article fifteen.”

After reading the Article, I leaned forward, thinking about how best to explain it. “In the kingdom you come from, is there anything that indicates that a person is a resident of your kingdom and not of another kingdom?”

He shook his head. “No. Some individuals reside in our domain. They can relocate to another kingdom if they so desire.”

“So this specific article doesn’t apply to your kingdom. It applies only if a specific document states that somebody is the resident of one place and not another.”

He nodded but still looked mulish with pursed lips, and his chin thrust forward defiantly. “I also disagree with Article 21. We do not hold elections to choose the monarch. We are the ruling family and have been so since the kingdom was established.”

“Yes, monarchy and democracy work differently,” I acknowledged. “But is your family the only deciding ruling body, or do they have some kind of council or a body of representatives that can voice the people’s concerns or advise about a course of action?”

“We have the advisory council that is comprised of all the guild leaders.”

“Are those guild leaders chosen or appointed by your family?”

“The guilds chose their leaders,” he clarified.

“So, in your case, those are the ‘freely chosen representatives,’” I pointed out.

He paused and thought for a while, and then frowned again. “What about Article 22? I do not understand it at all.”

“In your kingdom, do you have a method or somebody responsible for taking care of the people that can’t take care of themselves for various reasons, like orphans, cripples, elderly, and the like?”

“I do not know,” he admitted, his tone uncertain.

“So, you should find out and ensure you have such a person or governmental position,” I advised. “Some people need help, and since you collect taxes from the populace, don’t you think you have a responsibility to care for the ones that can’t care for themselves? After all, a government, even a monarchy, is built on give and take—not only take, take, take. This is one avenue in which you can give back.”

Again, he looked at me for a long time and seemed like he wanted to argue, but then his expression changed, as if something clicked. He nodded and looked thoughtful, with a faraway look in his eyes. After a few minutes, I sensed something shift in the surrounding mana. Alfonsen straightened up, took a deep breath, and his eyes glowed brighter. A broad smile spread across his face—the biggest smile I had ever seen on him. Actually, I realized, I had never seen him smile before.

“What happened?” I asked, intrigued by this sudden change.

“My mana increased by 600 units,” he answered, his voice filled with awe, and eyes wide.

“What is your center of power?”

“Mind and Spirit. Our family possesses a double-mana heritage,” he said proudly.

I looked up and asked silently in my head, “How is it that he reads a small book and gets 600 mana, and I’ve already studied dozens of books and got nothing? How is it fair?”

Of course, I didn’t get an answer.