Chapter 15:

Interlude 1 - Mrol

Downcaster


Mrol walked following his tour guide. Morshina’s showcase has been going on for hours, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He wished to get a few hours to openly explore this new country; mostly because he got a call from his brother asking him for help and to be familiar with the paths he took as he was intending to stay longer than the Morshans allocated for his duration in their country. It felt fake, dressed up.
Everything on this tour was fake. He wasn’t even allowed to interact with the population. The Morshans wanted to paint a picture that wasn’t real. Mrol was a representative of the Nortanian King – or at least that’s what the Morshans thought. He and his father King Molf had received a distress call from his brother Mont, stating he needed help, but couldn’t explain why. Mont hadn’t contacted them for 10 years, him reaching out for help now meant that his problem was big. At first, Mrol couldn’t give a damn about a brother who had abandoned his family, just because he didn’t want to inherit the throne. However, his father managed to convince Mrol otherwise.

He and Zaln – his ‘interpreter’ – followed their tour guide; a Morshan man by the name of Lopol, apparently he was the son of Tor – current leader of the Frol faction. Zaln wasn’t needed on this trip, Mrol was fluent in the Morshan language. He and Zaln had prepared for this trip for a long time. His father wanted to ‘rescue’ Mont when he called for help; which he never did, save for when they got his message a week ago. Having Zaln as his translator meant that the Morshans would dismiss him as a fool, meaning he could eavesdrop, should he need it, on a conversation the Morshans would probably not want him to hear; giving him an advantage over them.

The tour continued for an hour. Lopol began explaining the history of Morshina’s resources. He talked about how they were on the brink of bankruptcy when Morshina’s scientists came to the rescue and mass-produced artificial elements that replaced things such as iron, aluminum, and gold. A normal person would dismiss the importance of such metals, but humans on Mol exhausted those naturally occurring resources, but, they were the main source of income for the country. While renewable sources never go out, extracting them at a faster rate than they can be replaced, is what brought Morshina to a point of no return.

It would have been interesting to hear if he could trust that they didn’t meddle with their own history; which they aren’t far from doing. Something about this whole experience felt more fabricated than it should have. And, since the last time Mrol visited Morshina, the country felt more in a state of destruction, adding to his worries was Mont’s message of help. Up until now every experience he had here in this foreign land led to only one question, What in the living fuck is happening here? Unlike, his ‘polite’ family, Mrol didn’t give a damn about swearing in public. It gave a sensation of power. A feeling of dependence on such vulgar words that helped him express things no other word in the Nortanian dictionary could dream of describing.

He took a deep breath and let all his thoughts exit through his mouth. Luckily, Lopol took the direction towards their quarters; concluding their tour. It was time for sunset, the beautiful yam sun rays sprayed on the bridge that connected their quarters with other Morshan buildings. Surprisingly the Morshans liked heights. Every building he saw seemed bigger than the other. The area surrounding his place was filled with towering structures. With all the flaws Morshina has, the scene he watched was something like no other. He stopped walking, his eyes glistening on the beauty that was laid ahead of him. He let it all sink in and slowly retreated back into his temporary home.

****

Mrol and Zaln sank into their couch, today’s events were exhausting. They walked for hours upon hours listening to Lopol’s lectures. Someone knocked on their door, she was a servant that delivered their dinner. The two men in their early 30s ate with their bare hands. They didn’t wait to be served utensils. And, after ten minutes Mrol was full; Zaln, on the other hand, wasn’t.

Something was buzzing. Mrol got up from his table and scanned the room looking for the disturbance. It kept buzzing, but, he still wasn’t able to locate where the sound came from. He looked at Zaln who just shrugged when Mrol gestured to ask if he heard the strange sound; apparently the food mufflers his hearing. After a few minutes, Mrol was able to trace it back to his room where he found his communicator buzzing, the sound was louder; as he was closer to it than before. He tapped the screen and it revealed a message from Mont. His eyes widened and quickly pressed on it and an address showed up with a simple text be there as fast as possible it read.

Momentie
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