Chapter One

Twilight reaches its peak as I gaze out the window to a pink sky bruising into a darker shade of purple over the airport.

But to call it an airport would be a grave insult to this modern marvel.

My body feels a gentle pull towards the earth as the plane slowly descends towards one of many runways ready to receive it. The muffling scream of the landing gear sprouting below always leaves me with that bittersweet mix of completing a long arduous journey only to be thrown into a new one.

Which is exactly the path I plan to carve.

Bouncing in my seat is inevitable as the tires scratch the runway before the compressed roaring of the engines whirs down and begins coming to a complete stop. I glimpse through the stainless glass exterior of the airport with lukewarm excitement stirring in my stomach.

After what feels like an age, I finally returned to somewhere close to me. And it's here where I will begin the next stage of my life.

Departing airplanes always take longer than they need to be, even if you have the luxury of claiming the famous window seat, but with a great deal of patience, and anxiously double checking my wallet, passport, water bottle and all the manga I deem worthy of taking with me, my chance of inching out of the plane comes quicker than expected.

It’s always a grand sensation the moment my foot steps off the plane and onto foreign soil, but my eyes spoil me with painting the image of the arrival sector within a lush and vibrant garden.

I never really appreciated how grand this place was when I was a kid, but after getting processed and cleared, I have the honor of relishing the work of the mad artist conceived. I mean who would have thought that planting a hotel, theatre, pool, and even a casino in a place that solely serves for aerial transportation? I can’t help but wonder if your customers will ever want to leave with installments like that.

Luckily, for me, an MRT station has also been supplanted here as well. And after curiously scouting it out, and gleefully discovering a route that will lead to my primary destination, I declare that I’ll mass rapid transportation over a taxi.

Learning the basics of paying and finding my stop is a lot easier than I feared. And with the jitters in my gut soothed for the moment, I’m able to rest at a simple ergonomically questionable bench and pass the time by reading a manga prized for its fantasy and adventure.

The type of genre that fits with a darkening purple sky and the indiscriminate chatter of preoccupied commuters that serve as the ideal background noise.

Perhaps a little too ideal on the latter as my intense gaze remains fixated on one comical page, desperately not trying to skim over every word, frame, even little detail of illustration.

Whimsical nostalgia dances within my heart as my ears pick up three cheerful chimes ring out across the platform, its echo lingering until a smooth feminine voice in an English accent curve my muscles into a big smile.

“Your attention please: For your own safety, please stand behind the yellow line.”

Her voice is more high pitch and more pragmatic than I remember, but I’m glad that she still repeats herself in Mandarin and maybe some type of Indian language like Hindi or Bengali.

I’m glad some things didn’t change.

The smooth whirring of the MRT comes as I finally peel the page over. I can see the simple yet well-maintained column pulling up to the platform and I leap out of my seat to steal the best seat.

I can feel my ride taunting me as its gradual grind to a halt could not be any slower! It finally rests with one of its side doors staring directly at me, its glass lens perfectly capture a rather my expression of grim determination.

All those PSA announcements of not rushing towards your ride and waiting for the doors to open are immediately cast aside as I gamble my leap of faith through the doors opened halfway. My risk is highly rewarded with a vacant spot kneeling before a wide screen window.

One that I readily accepted.

I plop my down on my seat, smarting my butt more than I wanted, but I discarded the pain and rummage through my belongings, anxiously searching for my wallet and passport.

I became satisfied after five rechecks before the cheerful synthetic ringing catches my attention.

“Doors closing.”

Distressing rapid beeping follows before the soft hissing of the doors seal themselves shut and my ride begins sliding onwards.

I sink into my seat and gaze out at the window watching night slowly creeping in without much warning.

*

These types of rides feel quicker than I remember them being. By the time I arrived at my destination, night had fallen with only the glimmer of lights illuminating from windows of the regimental apartment complexes, and one of my favorite shopping malls shining bright right in front of me.

Departing onto the platform, the lukewarm humid air begins sprinkling my skin with tiny beads of water. This is the type of climate not for the arrogant or the faint of heart, but once one has adapted to it and makes sure you are prepared, one will have the pleasure of experiencing a sensation of pure rejuvenation, methodically purifying your body and soul.

Not to mention having the honor of earning a coat of a smooth looking tan and not like those contrived skin monstrosities.

But remembering my mission, I waste no time racing down the stairs since the elevator is too slow for me and approach a spot that makes my resolve waver.

I watch as people wave down taxis only to have some break formation and turn in to pick them up.

I swallow the wet blanket of a lump down my throat and mimic the motions of the others.

It doesn’t take long for one of the taxis, looking sleeker in its structure, slowly creeps up towards me. I can feel my teeth apprehensively bite down on my lip as I watch my hand reach out, pulling the door open and my legs force me into a dark compact world that’s reeking of spray in a futile attempt to drown out the smell of smoke.

Thankfully my blunt driver seems to have no problems with the directions I’m giving him and as we begin to sneak back onto the road, I lean back against the hard leather and look out at one of many memory lanes.

As well as many more new or different sights for the eyes to behold.

*

Even over a century later, relics of a once great empire remain not only remarkably preserved, but still used by the city’s inhabitants.

It’s almost like taking a step deep into the past.

My taxi journey comes to its close as I’m dropped off in a land where nature and 20th century architecture are the sovereigns of the far north.

Gazing upon the steep stone path flanked by green and tamed flora, blends a bittersweet mixture in my heart. I can recall that carefree oblivious 2nd grader racing down the hill and across the bustling street to spend the night away munching on mozzarella sticks and swimming in the pool.

Sipping Shirley Temples, tearing big ants apart on the tennis court, getting into fights with kids I hated until they realized they got more than they bargained for, movie nights with friends, man… I really was in paradise…

But I know that’s no good to reminisce on the past. Especially for the path I’m destined to walk.

That’s what I have to remind myself much more now that I’m closer to starting anew.

The warm aquatic air balms the fear of braving the unknown, but each step taken leaves this remedy nearly nullified.

I’ve had this feeling before, of traveling overseas to Indonesia for an educational trip. I remember feeling so excited, and I was one of the first to sign up for the trip. Although I was plagued by procrastination, I still was able to renew my passport, save up on money, pay for the trip, basically getting ready at a slow and steady pace. That is until the trip creeps uncomfortably close to me, cold feet struck and decided not to go.

‘Something came up.’ Was the excuse I gave my instructors.

At least they were courteous about it.

But not this time.

Miraculously, history did not repeat itself. Time was devoted to this trip, necessities, toiletries, food, water, and my most prized manga and light novels that I deem too precious for me to depart with.

I might not be over-encumbered, but I know I’m not doing my shoulders and back any favors on how much I packed. At least I would be one-strapping it like I did back in high-school.

A couple firm claps to my cheeks hardens my resolve and I begin my trudge upward, humming the most epic theme Cinema Aurellia has ever produced.

*

Scars have always been seen as either a blessing or a curse. Whether people wish to show them off to display their bravado, or hide them as well as their shame, they heal overtime sometimes as a smooth marking across the skin or into much sharper and more distinctive.

In the case of this city, once the stage of a brutal battle between two empires, one old and proud but a shadow of its former self, and the other, young and aggressive but living on borrowed time, its scars have been sewn together by the ultramodern skyline, mostly forgotten.

But if one knows where to look, which is yours truly, you’ll find that some spots have been easily neglected, left to rot in isolation.

This is the cruel fate bestowed upon the ravaged docks. Bullet wounds shred the decaying mossy stone, gashes of fractured glass linger on every ravaged building and lush green flora and vines thinly blanket the bombed-out roads.

And it is all thoroughly quarantined by a neglectful sign that barely etches out a stark warning.

NO TRESSPASSING

Or at least that’s what I think it says. After all, I can barely make out the words. For all I know it’s probably saying ‘Notress Passing all are welcome’.

After some very tricky acrobatics over the rusty chains, I assure myself that any undercover police won’t blame a tourist for misinterpreting letters, right?

The alarmed gasp jumping from my throat without warning as I feel I gravely miscalculated my footing and plunge my leg deep into uncharted territory. Thankfully, finding ground has proven a more shallow landing than I feared, but I still can't help but mutter a colorful curse on the bomb crater that scared me so.

From then on, I cautiously begin to traverse the ruins of this place, scanning every nook and cranny of my surroundings until I begin making it to a modest pier.

That's where I'll wait for my next voyage to the land I wish to travel to.

It's only when I begin to rest at the edge of the peer, dangling my feet out like a bored kid, is when I can feel body feeling unwell. It's as if the farther I go, the more ill I feel.

I never been an expert in describing physiological symptoms with the human body, but I've been the target of this feeling enough times to know how it can leave one drained, frightened and leaves one wondering 'Is this really the right choice'?

Is this really the right choice?

Is this really the right choice

Isthisreallytherightchoice

isthisreallytherightchoice

i-

(*)

Panic strikes without warning as I witness my recent butchering of my attempt of the first chapter. The sharp breathing seeps through my grinding teeth and all I can think of is how much a freaking idiot I am right now for getting so distracted!

"Are you... friggin' kidding me?! The hell is the matter with you, you absolute moron?!" My hands are quick to smite my face for this crime. "My brother in the Peach Garden, now you have to cut out- how am I supposed to- ARGH!"

My fist slams down on the desk, smarting shortly after impact, sparing the vulnerable typewriter from my wrath.

I aimlessly stare at my paper writing marvel with my unorthodox mind visually analyzing every piece of brass and asymmetric gears that serve not so much as cogs in the machines, but all beautifully distinct and invaluable in preserving the integrity of the typewriter.

It's one of the most beautiful pieces of machinery I've ever seen. Which is usually a sign that I need to get out and get some air.

Note to self: Don't be one of those weirdos that turns into some weird... machinophiliac? Is that the right word? Whatever, I just need to get outside and...

I begin to dread how long I've been cooped up in here, working on my chapter. Dread begins to boil within me as I slowly crane my head towards the glass copper wall clock with the angles of the hands making my heart sink.

"I'm supposed to meet Aurodha in the plaza in ten minutes!" I cry out in terror, springing out of my chair as I race out of my small study. "Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap! Gotta change- get cleaned up- look presentable...."

I feel my delusional ego rising beyond reason as I am now determined to beat this race against the clock as if my life depends on it.

Because with Aurodha, it definitely does!

(*)

The sound of jovial and festive music flowing through the mist filled air is the first sign anyone will notice upon stepping foot in Kalich Plaza. 

Arriving at the Plaza five minutes early leaves me feeling something of a mixed blessing. On the one hand, I'm not late. But on the other, I know it's never a good idea to sprint through the Gear Box on a lukewarm humid day, but me being the idiot I am, I abandoned all good sense just win the race against time.

And my 1st place award is me wondering if my efforts are worth it?

Fortunately, I'm not drenching in sweat, but I can feel my grey short sleeved vest threatening to glue itself onto my chest. Now that I'm here, I might as well take the time to hide under the shade and scour out for Aurodha in case she shows up early, too.

Fortune smiles upon me as I spy a lonely bench that's shrouded by a very tempting shadow cast by a stretched-out tarp set by my favorite teashop.

I never got the owner's name, but he's a cool guy. And he scores some major points with his good deed this day!

Now with my butt resting on a sturdy structure of wood and copper, all I have to do now is just sit back, relax, and shut up until either Aurodha or I see each other.

The lovely aroma of lavender wafting through the air soothes my restless nerves and I feel tempted to browse the humble yet inviting teashop to refill my supply of evening tea. And it certainly does not help with the various food stalls clouding the air and my good judgment with intoxicating scents that make me want to devour plump fish, fried breaded crab, or a delicious bowl of what comes close to succulent ramen noodles.

But despite my stomach pleading with me to deviate, for just a second, to eat something, I obviously know better than to be rude to Aurodha.

So my growling tummy is going to have to a patient. A virtue it willingly does not have given the amount of whining I'm hearing in the form of low grumbles.

At least I can distract myself with all the fun little shopping stalls selling all sorts of cool little toys, gears, and trinkets that people from my old world would pay millions to get their hands on! Alas my fantasy of scamming those suckers with all those products is quickly cut short when the gleeful squealing of children pierces my ears.

Recovering from my staggered posture, I look over to glance at a several kids, a couple of them bestial in nature, frolicking across and even through the short bursts of water sprouting into the air. All while a friendly but anxious humanoid made from leather and metal, dutifully watches the little rascals.

I can't help but smile and chuckle thinking how wonderful it would be to be a kid again.

However, like all dreams, can't go on forever, because having your vision darkened by black sleeved hands can rudely drag you back to reality.

My gasp is perfectly in sync with me springing from my bench and falling to the ground. At least my clumsiness restored my sight. And the person kneeling before me with a warm and amused grin makes my heart flutter.

I've seen my fair share of beautiful women back in my old world, and the internet has contributed greatly to that ordeal, but when seeing a lovely full-figured woman with dark copper skin, flowing back hair descending down to her waist, piercing almond-shaped amber eyes, and awesome digs of a black jacket with elegant golden ornaments and matching hot-pants and knee-high boots covering well-toned legs, it's no surprise that I've come across the most beautiful woman of both worlds.

The same woman who's graciously helping me to my feet.

"Could've given me a heads up, Aurodha!" I chastise her, unable to contain my snickers. How could I with her pulling something like that.

"Oh, Ken, you poor thing." She feigns sympathy, clearly teasing me. "If I did that, then it would water down all the thrill of my scheme."

"Of course. Right." I stop myself not wanting to let this slide so easily. "Wait- no! What I mean is- I- mean you could've been a stranger who-" I fear my choice of words leaves a lot to be desired. "No! That's not what I meant! I thought that- Ow, hey!"

"You did eat something already, did you not?" Her question lingering with suspicion comes shortly after a flick to my noggin.

"Of course I did!" I answer truthfully. Her glare intimidates me to continue. "Just some berries for a snack. Wait... I..." I sigh knowing that I didn't really eat anything that qualifies as breakfast.

Aurodha lets out a displeased sigh and shakes her head. My heart sinks knowing that this is already off to a bad start.

"Well that explains the grumbles." She aims her finger at my stomach before guiding me back to the bench for us to rest on. "This is about the book you're working on, is it?"

Her warm words melt my defenses as I answer with a weary nod. "Yeah, I..." I gulp nervously before continuing. "I'm starting a whole new one."

Aurodha blinks. "Oh? But why? The chapters you lent me were amazing! The way you flesh out your descriptions- it makes me feel like I'm there! And the conflict at the very beginning, I can still recall it stealing my breath as your hero is thrown into such an ordeal!

The encouragement Aurodha graces me with sparks a small sense of accomplishment proving that I can be at least a competent writer. It even motivates me to revisit my old work.

But I couldn't as I'm about to explain to her. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." I start off genuinely grateful. "But the way it was going, I felt like it was just going to drag on in that one setting and transitioning to the next would be- I dunno... I just felt like readers would lose interest if it turns into a drab. And it started to feel like one."

Aurodha's frown says it all. From the way I'm going about things, it sounds like an excuse to give up on my project. And in a way, I did.

"The deadline for submissions is not far off." She warns before appearing curious. "What do you plan to brew now?"

My eyes gaze at her, crossing her legs before I dart away. "W-well, it's about... me coming back to this world, basically." I start off. "I got off to a great start on the first chapter but then..." I stop myself as the morbid embarrassment of what happened paralyzes me.

"But then...?" Aurodha's soft words release me from the spell and I feel obligated to confess what I did. 

"I... messed up on what type of words I put down and I'm worried that I might lose all the progress I made!"

There is no trace of callous annoyance or irritation detected in Aurodha's benevolent countenance, only worry that leaves me feeling guilty. At least her small smile serves as a token of comfort.

"Well, I still wish to see your work." She gingerly says. "And, as always, you can count on me for proper feedback!"

"Your feedback is always appreciated." I sincerely tell her.

"Well, onward then!" She declares yanking me from my spot with her titan strength and her being several inches taller than me solidifies the point that Aurodha is the type of girl one never wants to rub the wrong way. "If we are to pass the time, we are beginning with a rich meal!

"You're the boss!" I concede allowing her to drag me to whatever fine cuisine she'll treat us to.

Normally being forced to pick up the pace just to avoid being literally dragged across Kalich Plaza is not something to look forward to. But since Aurodha is the one on the reins, I'll gladly make an exception.