The Gate Traveler

We spent the entire day by the river—relaxing, swimming, playing, and eating. My body, still too thin, showed every bone and muscle. The only pants that stayed on me were sweatpants with a string.

Once again, I attempted to teach Stretch the art of fetching. After a considerable amount of effort, he reluctantly brought back the stick—once.

“You’re supposed to be a dog. Dogs adore playing fetch.” He shot me a disdainful look and trotted off to relieve himself on a nearby bush. Well, that was the end of that conversation.

That evening, inspired by a recipe I saw in the Archive, I cooked a stew with bison chunks and root vegetables. It turned out delicious, and I felt my body absorb the mana. I facepalmed—again. It seemed my face was becoming the victim of my forgetfulness. The bison “mana potions” had completely slipped my mind. After taking out my biggest pots, I began cooking all the bison chunks, storing them in the newly cleaned takeaway boxes. I cooked until the middle of the night, using all the meat chunks. Stretch still had fifteen big burgers, and he could eat the stew, but stocking up on fresh meat seemed like a good idea.

The following day, I told Stretch we were going bison hunting, and he ran in circles with excitement. I identified him to see his progress:

 “Well, buddy, you are progressing nicely.”

As we packed up the camp and set off toward the next town, I couldn’t help but hope we’d encounter bison along the way. The two types of herd animals I had seen so far were bison and goat, and the goat wasn’t my favorite. By lunchtime, we had reached the foot of the first mountain in the chain. It was a massive chain, much larger than it appeared on the Map. Keeping my fingers crossed, I hoped we wouldn’t encounter any obstacles in finding a passage between the mountains. After lunch, I decided to climb the mountain and look from its top for a passage and bison. The incline didn’t seem too steep, and the mountain wasn’t that high, so by my estimate we could reach the top in an hour or two.

I seriously overestimated my climbing ability—we reached the mountain top only by sunset. When I finally stood on the top, it took my breath away. It was one of the most beautiful panoramas I had ever seen. The setting sun bathed the entire landscape in a warm, golden light, casting long shadows that danced across the valleys below. Mountains stretched as far as the eye could see, their lush greenery gradually giving way to the dense forests that carpeted the distant horizon. The river we swam in earlier snaked through the valley, its waters sparkling like a ribbon of molten gold in the fading sunlight.

Everywhere I looked, vibrant orange, pink, and purple hues painted the sky, blending seamlessly into the azure blue above. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily, their edges tinged with the colors of the sunset. The peaks of the surrounding mountains stood majestically, their rugged silhouettes outlined against the brilliant sky. Each peak was distinct. Some were flat with some vegetation, while others were jagged and bare, standing as silent sentinels over the valley.

The landscape’s sheer vastness and untouched beauty filled me with a profound sense of awe and serenity. It was a sight that seemed to transcend time, a perfect blend of tranquility and grandeur. I felt a deep connection to the world around me, a sense of belonging, and an almost overwhelming peace. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated wonder that made all the effort of the climb worthwhile.

Standing there, gazing out at the breathtaking vista, I couldn’t help but feel deeply grateful for my journey. The uncertainty, the challenges, and even the mundane moments all led to this—a chance to witness such unparalleled beauty. It was a reminder of why I traveled. This was the reward—the chance to see the world in all its raw, magnificent splendor.

The rest of the mountains in the chain weren’t much taller than the one I was standing on, and most of them were very wide, with valleys between them. One valley had another river that even curved in the direction we were heading, but I wasn’t sure I could talk Stretch into the canoe. Maybe now that he was more intelligent, it would be easier.

It was getting dark fast. The mountaintop was small, so there was no place to set camp. We climbed down again for ten minutes until we reached a flat area big enough to set up one of my smaller tents.

The following morning, I climbed to the mountaintop again and took out my binoculars. Searching the valleys for bison, I found a herd. It was in the opposite direction from where we were heading, but I wasn’t in a hurry to reach the town. Although I wanted to progress on my looting, a few days out of my way wouldn’t be a problem. I looked from one end of the mountain chain to the other and felt my gaze “snag” on a particular mountain. There was nothing special about it, except maybe it was shorter than its immediate neighbors. Again, I looked from one end of the mountain chain to the other and again felt my gaze snag on that mountain; it felt like it “pinged” me.

Hmm, interesting.

I opened my Map, zoomed in until I located that specific mountain, and marked its location. I took out my camera and took some pictures; even without the sunset, the panorama was breathtaking. I decided I wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere, so I sat down and looked at the view. Stretch put his head on my lap, and I scratched his ears. The breathtaking beauty around me made me feel both amazed and at peace. As I took a deep breath, I sensed myself expanding as though I was both a part of the world and enveloped it. I stayed there all day and enjoyed another sunset. For me, those days, those moments, no matter how long or short, were my reason for traveling. This was the reason for my journey. Healing people gave me a feeling of accomplishment, and I still had the challenge of the loot spell I was determined to crack. But those things were the “doing” part of my journey. This day, and the time I spent in the grotto, were the “being” part of my journey. To be in the moment and take it in.

The next day, we climbed down and headed toward the interesting mountain. I didn’t know if it was my Perception or Luck doing the “pinging,” but something was there; I was sure of it.

It took us two days to reach it, and it was getting dark. So, after setting up the camp, we had dinner and went to sleep early. We walked almost nonstop, faster than usual, and I was tired.

When I examined my body again in the morning, it looked much better. Over the past few days, I had been eating more than usual and it seems like I had gained most of my body weight back. After I packed up the camp, we began climbing the mountain. Stretch must have had mountain goats in his ancestry; he climbed like walking on a flat road. After about three hours, we reached the mountain top. The view was amazing but not much different from the view from the other mountain.

Now what?

I sat on the top, waiting for something to happen. Nothing.

Hmm, maybe it’s something I’ll see from here?

With my binoculars in hand, I looked from side to side. I could see further north from here. After the mountain chain, there was a forest, and I saw some smoke. It was probably the town I was heading to. Looking for the bison herd, I couldn’t see it. I had no idea what to do next, so I just sat there for a while, and Stretch used the opportunity to nap.

After about an hour of sitting there, I had an idea. My Luck description said something about using it actively. I checked, just in case.

 It took me a couple of seconds to figure out how to “actively engage” it, but the minute I did, I felt a pull in a specific direction, like a compass needle pointing a certain way. It was on the opposite side of the mountain from where we climbed, and I followed the “Luck Compass.”

Halfway down, we reached a narrow cave entrance between two rocks. Without the guidance from my Luck, I would have never found it. It was situated in such a way that it was invisible from any angle. Only when you walked up to the rock sticking out of the mountain, could you see the entrance behind it. I took out one of my oil lamps, lit it, and we went in.

Initially, the entrance was very narrow, so I had to walk sideways and felt claustrophobic, but after a few meters, it became wider, and I could walk normally. The walls had a type of moss on them that reflected the light from the lamp, so it became much brighter, and I could see well. Stretch ran ahead and disappeared from view, which made me feel much better. I was getting worried about the “mummy chamber” vibe, but I trusted his senses.

After a few meters, the passage opened into a vast cavern. I walked into the cavern’s center and lifted the light to see better. The light reflected off the walls, but not like off the moss. The walls of the cavern were full of crystals. I tried to dislodge one of them, but couldn’t. With a medical chisel and a hammer, I dislodged it from the wall in just a few minutes. It looked beautiful, with a deep green color.

So, I was supposed to see the crystals?

It made little sense. I facepalmed again—I needed to stop doing that, or I’d hurt myself.

I identified the crystal.

Yes, please, and thank you, Lord!

I didn’t feel like setting camp at the foot of the mountain and climbing up and down every day, so I walked around all the caverns looking for openings and couldn’t find any. However, the air smelled fresh and not musty or damp, so there must be ventilation. Getting an idea, I shut off the lamp, let my eyes get used to the darkness and looked. There were thin shafts of light in three locations. Good, air won’t be a problem. I shuffled slowly to one location with light, took out a small amount of kindling, and lit a small fire. The smoke went up like through a chimney. After lighting the lamp again, I examined the ground and walls, looking for openings through which snakes or other nasties could pass, but found nothing.

Excellent.

I set up a mini-camp near the fire. There was no need for the tent inside, but chairs and a table were necessary. Rubbing my hands together with a smug look on my face, I got to work.