The Gate Traveler

After Lis’s departure, Mahya and I stayed at the hotel for a few days, feeling dejected. I played my guitar to process my emotions, but didn’t sing or learn new songs. Lis was my first real friend, and I didn’t know how to say goodbye to friends; didn’t even know where to start. When my wife died, it broke me completely, and I felt like my whole life had shattered. Like I lost my connection to humanity. Saying goodbye to Lis felt like someone was picking at the scar, reopening the wound I thought had healed. At night, I stared at the ceiling, wondering if the emptiness would ever leave.

Our relationship was different—built on a close friendship, not romantic love. But that didn’t make our connection any less solid and real. In some ways, it was stronger. Saying goodbye to him felt like losing a piece of me—like someone had yanked a carpet from beneath my feet and left me staggering. The emptiness he left in me was raw, and I didn’t know how to fill it.

He’s not dead; He’s just visiting some dragons. I told myself again and again.

Every morning, I looked for a message from Lis, but there wasn’t anything. Recently, I stopped checking daily for a message from Lyura and only checked once a week, but now I was back to checking daily.

After three days, I got worried and asked Mahya, “Don’t you think it’s taking too long for Lis to send us a message?” I couldn’t hide the anxiety creeping into my voice as I paced back and forth.

Mahya glanced up from her book. “Don’t forget about the time skips,” she said calmly.

I stopped pacing and frowned, trying to make sense of it. “Do you know how long the time skip is?” I asked, crossing my arms as I turned to face her.

She shrugged. “How should I know?” she replied, before returning to her book.

After five days, Mahya approached me and suggested, “Let’s keep going. We have a lot of Gates to check and still have shopping to do; we need the retail therapy. Trust me, nothing cures the blues like a shopping spree.”

I laughed and agreed; retail therapy sounded nice.

Instead of taking a train journey lasting over 15 hours, we flew to Yichang, and Alfonsen didn’t raise any objections. It was a small thing––not complaining about flying––but I appreciated it more than I could say. Maybe Alfonsen wasn’t so bad after all.

When I first saw the Yangtze River, I was in awe; it was huge. I had seen big rivers before, but something about its size touched me, and I just stood there and looked at it, mesmerized and awed. Somehow, its vast width, with the mountains on either side and the browner-than-blue water, all blended into a picture that amazed me and took my breath away. The color of the water should have put me off, but here, it blended into a perfect image that I couldn’t look away from. I didn’t even think of taking a photograph. I knew no picture could do it justice. Somehow, its beauty and immense size filled a small part of the hole I felt in my heart. It reminded me I was a Traveler; I would see many things and meet many people on my road, and I would have to say goodbye to some of them. Lis was right; we went where the road took us. It made me feel better and less hollowed out.

Yichang had a big marina with many sailboats, fishing boats, and river cruisers, and I decided it was a great place to shop for a sailboat. I spent three days exploring the marina until I stumbled upon a sailboat, specifically the HARMONY 47 model by PONCIN YACHTS. Although it had some visible wear and tear, it caught my attention.

I checked online and saw that the asking prices for the same model were between ninety and a hundred and ten thousand dollars; the asking price for this one was eighty-five. I checked its specifications and saw that it had four cabins, with two bathrooms, each shared between two cabins, a kitchen or galley or whatever, a big living room, and a back deck partially covered with an option to enclose some of it entirely. Externally, the yacht appeared to have some dents and bends, and the decks looked broken and torn.

I asked the marina manager to contact the owners on my behalf, and after I waited for an hour, one of them eventually arrived. Two English people were the yacht owners, and one of them, Albert, who preferred to be called Brett, offered to show me the inside of the yacht.

When I inspected the yacht’s interior, I found it had suffered extensive damage. The flooring had many broken areas, the furniture looked threadbare, and a thick layer of limescale covered all the showers. Broken door hinges contributed to the worn-out appearance of the mistreated cabinets. The kitchen appeared as if an army had rampaged through it, while the living room resembled a frat party gone bad; in short, the yacht was in terrible shape.

I ran my hand along the rough, chipped edge of the cabin door, feeling the wood splinter beneath my fingers. “What happened here?” I asked, narrowing my eyes as I surveyed the worn-out upholstery and the thick grime on every surface. The place looked like it had been through a war—or a really bad party.

The owner sighed and shook his head. “We have been operating a private cruise business on the Yangtze River for six years using this yacht. Some individuals lack basic care and consideration for the property of others.”

I nodded, still taking in the damage. “What’s the mechanical condition?” I asked, turning my gaze back to him.

“She can sail,” he replied with a slight shrug, “but she needs work.”

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, weighing the pros and cons. “I’m interested,” I finally said, “but the price sounds too high, considering her condition.”

The owner straightened, his expression shifting to a businesslike focus. “How are you paying?”

“Cash.”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Let me check with my partner, and I’ll get back to you.”

I gave a brief nod in return. “No problem; I must also check with my partner.”

While I was waiting for an answer from Brett, I checked the prices of gold online. I didn’t have enough cash to pay for the yacht, but I could take money from Mahya and pay her back in gold, or sell gold coins. I realized I had underpaid Alfonsen for the gold I bought from him. The coins he gave me weighed 32 grams each, and according to the internet, each coin was worth 2,144 euros. I did the math and discovered that I had given him six gold coins worth of euros.

I went looking for him, and I found him in his room. “Alfonsen, I paid you too little for your gold. What do you prefer—one hundred and four coins back or one hundred coins back and another 8,500 euros?”

Alfonsen cleared his throat, his eyes darting to the side before meeting mine. “I would prefer the local currency, with a preference for an amount surpassing 8,500,” he said, his tone careful, as if trying not to sound too eager. “Mahya and I went shopping for the past two days to restock her inventory of fabrics, and I ended up making several purchases as well.” He glanced down at his hands, fidgeting slightly, before looking back at me. “She informed me you lease a warehouse for receiving deliveries. Will you be doing so this time as well?”

“Yes, I’ll find something for us,” I replied, giving him a reassuring nod. “I must also find a place to sell some coins, as I’m running low on cash.”

I checked and discovered that the coins I received from Lis weighed 40 grams each, Alfonsen’s coins weighed 32 grams each, and I also had a collection of different coins from Shimoor in various weights, from 27 grams to 46 grams. To avoid any unnecessary complications, I opted to sell a combined total of 600 coins. These coins consisted of 500 coins I received from Lis and an additional 100 coins from Alfonsen. After a short online search, I found the Gold Trading Service and contacted a representative.

When the Gold Trading Service representative heard I wanted to sell gold coins worth over 1.5 million euros, he inquired about ownership documents and invited me to dinner. I refused dinner, not wanting to make up lies about where the gold came from, but I assured him I had all the ownership documents.

Two representatives arrived at the hotel with an armored truck and a big, armed guard, like something straight out of a movie.

“Hěn gāo xìng néng gēn nín jiàn miàn” (Nice to meet you), they said in unison, bowing slightly as they approached.

I smiled politely, gesturing toward the chairs. “Hello, gentlemen. Unfortunately, I don’t speak Chinese,” I said, shaking my head with a slight chuckle. “Please, sit down.”

I showed them all the relevant (conjured) documents for the gold sale, handed them a briefcase with the gold coins, each in its plastic sheath that took me hours to arrange—and made Mahya laugh at the “artistic presentation” —and received $1,687,530. We wrapped up our business, and I felt like I was in a James Bond movie or another action-packed film with all the fanfare. It made me laugh and improved my mood further.

John, you need to learn to appreciate the little things, or in this case, the big truck and guard.

Brett contacted me to meet and discuss the yacht’s sale, and I asked Mahya to come with me. As we pulled into the marina, I noticed Mahya’s eyebrows shoot up as she took in the yacht’s exterior condition. “Are you sure about this? It looks pretty damaged.”

“I’ve got the Restore spell; it shouldn’t be a problem,” I replied, waving off her concern. “But could you check the engine and see if you can convert it to run on mana, or even better, on mana and traditional fuel?”

Mahya shook her head. “You don’t want it to run on fuel. Only a few places in the universe rely on fossil fuels. It would be better to switch to mana or use sails.”

“You know best,” I admitted. “Look at it and tell me if it’s possible.”

After taking a tour of the boat, I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly at Mahya’s expression of disbelief as she saw the condition up close. Finally, I turned to Brett and introduced her with a slight grin. “This is my engineer. I need her to look at the engines.”

Mahya spent some time inspecting the machinery, her face serious as she worked. When she finished, she telepathically sent me a message: “I can convert it, but it will work best with a dungeon core.”

“But can we sail safely on it without one?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. If you fix the damage, I can convert the engine.”

With that “ringing” endorsement, I asked Brett, “Shall we discuss the financial aspect? Remember, I’m paying cash.”

After a short negotiation, I bought the yacht for seventy thousand dollars. Brett reminded us we needed a boating license to sail it. I assured him it was all fine, and we concluded the deal.

Following the sale, I discovered the IYT Try Sailing Course, a four-hour course about sailing basics. The three of us attended the course but unfortunately didn’t gain the sailing skill. So, I found the International Bareboat Skipper (IYT) Course, which takes five days. We attended it and finally gained the sailing skill.

We moved to the boat, and Rue didn’t voice any complaints. I started the restoration process by working on the cabins, starting with theirs. We requested delivery of all our shopping items to the marina and the boat, which was an effective solution.

I went over my list of the things I wanted to buy, deleted all the stuff I bought already, and made a new, shorter list:

1. Copper coins
2. Tools
3. DIY equipment
4. Medical supplies
5. Costume Jewelry
6. Spare furniture
7. Games for adults

The three of us went shopping. I bought all the stuff on my list and gave Alfonsen a copy of the original list after Mahya told him it was fantastic.

In the evenings, we got into the habit of learning the various box games I had picked up, and everyone, including Rue, quickly fell in love with them. We played every night, and somehow, Rue won more than half the games. We suspected he was using telekinesis to cheat when we weren’t looking, but no matter how hard we tried, we could never catch him in the act.

One evening, we played backgammon, and Rue won again, his tail wagging so hard it thumped against the deck. Mahya looked at him with narrowed eyes, suspicion written all over her face. “There’s no way you’re this good,” she accused him.

Rue tilted his head, giving us those puppy-dog eyes and a tongue-lolling innocent look. But when we rolled the dice with telekinesis, I could swear I felt a tiny additional nudge on the dice before they settled on 6-6. That dog was sneakier than he let on.

We completed all the shopping in the city. I bought another 100 gold coins from Alfonsen for $214,400. They bought their own copies of all the grownups’ games, and we decided to sail to the next Gate near the Wu Gorge.

The time here was good for us. Mahya and I started laughing again. The little things gradually lifted our spirits—silly jokes, deep conversations with Alfonsen about the responsibility of governments or morality, and the game nights of the four of us together. Each laugh helped fill the Lis-shaped hole in my heart, slowly healing it. It took time, but our friendship and fresh memories gradually, little by little, filled the void.