Tarkan approached the city gates as the guards called out. Without a word, he moved forward, with Slim following closely behind. The two of them arrived at a table where a few guards sat, looking over passersby and inspecting travelers. One of the guards, an older man with a thin mustache and tired eyes, motioned to Tarkan.
"What brings you here?" he asked, his tone flat and uninterested.
Tarkan responded naturally, "I've come to awaken."
The guard didn't seem surprised. He merely nodded, wrote something in a small notebook, and continued asking a series of routine questions: name, purpose in the city. Tarkan answered each one smoothly, feeling somewhat relieved that the process seemed straightforward.
Just as he thought he was done, the guard raised his pen again and asked, "Awakening pass?"
Tarkan blinked. "What pass?"
Before the confusion could deepen, Slim stepped forward and retrieved a green-and-yellow card from a pouch inside his robe. Without a word, he handed it to Tarkan, who presented it to the guard.
The guard examined the pass closely under a small light built into the table's side. He flipped it, and wrote a few lines on the back, and then dropped it into a box with several other similar cards. Then, looking up again, he asked, "Your ID number?"
Tarkan hesitated. He turned to Slim with a questioning look, hoping he would step in once more, but Slim only shook his head slowly, a silent gesture indicating that this one was up to him.
Facing the guard again, Tarkan replied, "I don't have one."
That made the guard pause. He let out a soft grunt of surprise and, for the first time, raised his eyes to really look at Tarkan. His brows furrowed as he studied Tarkan's features, and for a brief moment, his expression shifted from professional uninterested to something akin to awe.
"Damn," the guard muttered under his breath, "How can someone be... this good-looking?"
It wasn't a joke. The guard genuinely looked dumbfounded. His eyes roaming between Tarkan's face and the plain, simple clothes he wore, as though trying to reconcile the contrast. After a brief silence, he shook his head, muttering something to himself, he then reached into a nearby box and retrieved a flat, green-colored badge.
Handing it over, he said, "All visitors without a registered ID must wear this badge visibly on their chest at all times. While you're in the city, this badge will grant you temporary clearance. Once your Awakening is complete, the badge will change to blue. You'll have exactly two days from that point before the badge turns red, signaling the end of your permitted stay. At that point, you're expected to leave the city."
Tarkan took the badge, examining it with curiosity. It was plain, smooth, and looked very ordinary, examining the card from side to side . It fascinated him how such a modest-looking object could carry so much authority and function.
He clipped it to his chest.
"Next!" the guard shouted.
Tarkan turned to walk through the gate, but before he could take more than a few steps, another guard shouted, "Hey! Where do you think you're going?"
Startled, Tarkan stopped in his tracks. Slim, walking closely behind him, looked equally confused. The guards were on high alert now, hands instinctively drifting toward the hilts of their weapons. Was someone trying to sneak in?
Slim quickly stepped forward. "I'm with him," he said calmly, gesturing to Tarkan. "But I must be inspected as well, yes?"
The guard nodded sternly. "Exactly. No exceptions."
With a quiet "Oh," Slim turned back toward the inspection table.
The guard repeated the same series of questions. Slim answered smoothly, "I'm here to escort my master to his Awakening."
"Masterrrr?" The guards echoed the word in unison, raising their eyebrows. They looked between Tarkan and Slim, visibly confused, perhaps even amused. Tarkan, tall and striking, dressed simply but with an unmistakable presence, certainly didn't look like someone who needed an escort. Slim, with his lean build and quiet demeanor, didn't match the image of a typical servant. Still, the guards said nothing further, deciding that it was none of their business.
After the usual questions, the final one came again: "Your ID number?"
Slim gave the same response. "I don't have one."
The guard didn't look surprised. Out here, it was common. Many couldn't afford a personal ID bracelet, which generated unique identification numbers for its owner.
The guard reached for another temporary card and slid it toward Slim. "That'll be 10 silver coins as the gate fee."
Slim didn't flinch. Instead, he reached behind him, pulled a short knife from a hidden strap, and placed it calmly on the table. The movement was so fluid and sudden that the nearby guards instantly stepped forward, hands on their weapons.
"Easy!" one of them barked.
But Slim spoke in an even tone. "I don't have money. Can you take this short sword instead?"
The main guard shook his head. "Rules are rules. We only accept money. Sorry."
"Take it and kindly step aside," another guard added curtly.
Just as the guards were preparing to call the next traveler forward, a voice rang out from beyond the gate.
"I think I can help with that."
Tarkan looked up to see who it was, and blinked in disbelief.
It was Ricky.
Of all people, it was the chatty, over-the-top, always-smiling Ricky, grinning like he had just saved the day. Apparently, he had been waiting for Tarkan outside the city gates all this time.
Ricky marched up to the inspection table like a hero in a stage play, his chest puffed out and arms swinging dramatically.
"So," he asked, "how much is the gate entry again?"
"Ten silver," the guard repeated, deadpan.
Ricky let out a confident chuckle and began rummaging through his pockets. He pulled coins from every corner of his clothes, chest pocket, sleeve, boot, and even the small pouch tied to his belt. After a few minutes of exaggerated searching, he laid out his treasure: a collection of coins totaling exactly nine silver and sixty copper.
"Ah," he muttered, scratching his head, "I'm forty copper short."
The guard frowned, clearly not amused. "Rules are rules. Ten silvers, no more, no less. I have a quota to fill stop wasting my time, and Please step aside."
Slim, hearing this, turned to Tarkan and said, "Don't worry, sir. I can wait nearby. I'll manage."
Thinking about it for a moment, then gave a small nod. "Okay."
Ricky turned to Slim and patted his chest with exaggerated confidence. "Don't worry. I'll look after him."
Tarkan, ignoring Ricky's shenanigans, walked into the city without looking back.
Ricky's grin faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered, flashing Slim a reassuring smile before jogging to catch up.
As he passed the guards, no one stopped him. he'd already completed his search, and the guards were just too tired to care.