Putting the disturbing thought behind us for now, we continued our leisurely walk, packs on our backs.

We didn't want to be mistaken as brigands, nor did we want people to suspect that we were.

It was odd walking down this road.

The path heavily used, the four deep furrows running parallel in the road held testament to that, yet all was quiet... Well, not too quiet if you catch my drift, but the lack of other travelers was what really bothered me. -Then again, It is getting late in the Afternoon.-

That did beg the question of why that merchant left so late. I doubt there would be any benefit to leaving in the afternoon as a peddler of wares. Either he would be forced to camp out in the wilderness, or he would arrive in a settlement past the time any reasonable person would want to purchase an item...

-...Then again who am I to question what a merchant does? After all, I've never been one-

We soon crested a small hill, and the view... was breathtaking. A valley occupied by a sprawling walled city. Terracotta-tiled houses clung to the steep walls of the valley, most packed so tight that they blended together, creating winding roots of housing with decent sized avenues partitioning them off from each other. All of the roots lead to a walled off portion of the city, where much larger estates turned the area into a giant chessboard. Those villas encircled yet another walled portion, which contained an ornate palace hugging a cliff that fell off into the frothing blue. Yet the ocean wasn't truly a border for this land starved city, as docks and piers bled off into the deep blue. Sailing ships of all shapes and sizes could be seen as they were braving the waves or coming for landfall, creating a living, breathing painting.

However, it was indeed a magnificent sight, the shimmering tides, the sunset roofs, or even the glinting palace! No, the most outstanding thing of all was that in the middle of the sky: A massive writhing ball of electric blue levitated. It was as if they had plucked a star from the heavens, then trapped it in the world’s largest gyroscope.

Four silver chevrons could be seen orbiting the electric-blue celestial, points facing away from it, each possessing an orbit of its own. The outermost had a lazy gait, contrasting the innermost's frantic sprint around the mini sun, as if this one was searching for it's missing, buzzing phone in its car

We stood there just gawking at the picturesque scene for a good moment. Fahkir's grin was full of satisfaction.

"Man, you never see shit like this outside, and even in games it can never truly capture what it's like to be there physically."

"I don't know man; Red Dead Redemption 3 had some pretty focking spectacular vistas."

She looked at me askance, even Tah'Styr bent around to give me a look, blue ovals full of bewilderment.

"Di-did you just compare THIS to a last gen console game?! Jesus, man, you need to see the world more."

"Well Excuuuse me, midget! I'm sorry for not risking my focking life in a desert, so that politicians can ensure the oil barons keep funding their campaigns. AND don't give me that look Tah’Styr; you're just as much of a shut-in as I am, if not worse!"

A scandalized gasp escaped Tah'Styr's lips, muffled by her veil; Fahkir's mouth pulled back into a line. -Well I focked up-

Silence once more covered the hillcrest we stood on, though this time for a different reason entirely, the mood completely ruined by my comment…

Soon enough we started walking again, moving towards a gatehouse, untold conversations filling our throats instead of the air.

As we drew near the gate, I could make out around a dozen persons queued up for processing, a few as tall as Fahkir, one taller than Tah'Styr with green skin and a couple male elves with a lone female elf at the back. The rest were either human, or so close that they were indistinguishable from one.

Said female elf was fussing about with a small wooden box. She looked to be sniffing the contents. -Odd but okay?-

When we got closer, she turned her head towards us wide-eyed. The tip of her nose was even paler than her already pale skin. I guess she was a high elf as my Beige tone was far darker than her eggshell. Her long pastel blue bangs were braided back with a golden hair cuff keeping it together, while the rest of her hair was swooped back. Blue eyes stared back amidst an aquiline face, of course with foot long knife-like ears jutting out from both sides of her head, both adorned with enough gold jewelry that I'm surprised they are not droopy.

She wore a shoulder-less-carmine ruffle dress that flared out at her hips, more by her figure than by her attire, with an eminence-colored corset-vest raising her already bountiful chest. The lace of which was golden. A dagger and pouch were mounted on a khaki leather belt, every metal bit golden. The hem of her dress ended just above her ankles, revealing to my outright horror, 4-inch Fur-cuffed leather high-heel-boots, with of course golden buckles. In fact, the only thing on her NOT golden was a pair of sapphire earrings that were inlaid into silver... and golden tassels hanging from them. With all of her VERY flashy clothing, she at least had the bright idea to wear a fur-collared cloak sporting matching colors to her attire. Completed with a pair of fur lined leather gloves, the outside khaki while the palms were the same as her vest and cloak.-I guess the roads are safer than I thought if people like her could travel around freely-

Seeing us moving behind her to queue up, she hastily put away her wooden box into her bosom purse and rubbed at her nose, revealing it to be almost as red as her plush lips. She gave a friendly smile that would have taken my breath away, if it weren't for the words that accompanied it, well, more like her accent.

"Gud morrow."

It was as if ice water was poured down my back, and I froze. Now don't get me wrong, outside of the war that ended in 1776 and subsequent 1812, I didn't mind the Brits. Hell, if it weren't for them the US wouldn't exist as it was today, but somehow, me being plopped into this world as its Scottish equivalent had me wanting to brandish my longsword and cry, "FREEDOM!" at the top of my lungs as I charge at her with murderous intent. Worst part was that it wasn't even a "normal" British accent but a posh one. You know what I'm talking about, aristocratic, used by "corrupt" nobles in fiction, Bond villains, quickly followed by an "Oh-ho ho ho!" type laugh, it was THAT type of accent. Years of pop-culture culminated with the newfound added ancestral hatred, and I found myself about ready to throttle her where she stood.

I guess Tah'Styr noticed my change in attitude, mostly because she was clinging to me when I stopped, and realized something was up. She quickly let go of my shirt, wrapped her left arm around my right and pulled it, securing it against her chest like an overprotective girlfriend. I-I found it rather... comforting.

She let out a very curt response.

“Hello.”

The possibly very ‘High’-Elf was nonplussed. She dropped her raised arm, dropped her wide smile, and dropped any further conversations with us. It would be awkward if we actually cared about the chick, well at least Tah’Styr and I didn’t care... not sure about Fahkir, she seemed kind of... bored.

Speaking of being bored... after about 2 hours of queueing up as if we were at the goddamned DMV, the line moved! In that time, Fahkir was still dead to the world and idly fussing with her armor straps. Tah'Styr and I made idle conversation about an old JRPG about an android with thicc thighs, most of which made the other people in line scratch their heads at what the hell we were on about; and Lil Miss Sunshine dipped her nose in her box half a dozen more times.

When the line started to move I finally became aware of the vice grip that still held my arm. I tugged slightly to get Tah'Styr's attention and, with some... reluctance?, relinquished the appendage from her, rather comfy, hold.

I stole a forlorn glance at her. I wasn't sure if I should have just apologized and asked her to hold it again, or stick to my choice and move on. This whole gender-bending experience thing was really fucking with my sexuality. It was never more than a fleeting thought back in Myth-Land, but here, now, with her heat slowly cooling from my arm, her fragrance of clove still clinging onto my enhanced elven senses, I didn't know what to think.

Am I gay for being attracted to a female body with a definitive Male mind, a mind of which that I have come to associate with my male friend? Or, am I straight because I am finding attraction in the female body, despite the definitive male mind? Or, is this all conjecture and I am just being a shallow asshole?

Before more existential questions could propagate in my frustrated psyche, the line came to a halt with the elven woman in front of a rather fatigued guard. With a well-practiced, but tired, form he questioned the woman.

"Ma'am, please produce your passport for inspection or proof of sterilization."

-Wait, what?! Sterilization? What the fuck is that about?-