The sun on Outworld didn’t seem too different from the sun he’d been born under. It cast its light across the green land just like it did upon Ayndir. It shed so much light that it caused the sky to glow a bright blue, just like back home.

If not for the difference in what the light touched, he might have assumed it was placed there by Vaste’lon himself and commanded to crawl across the endless reaches of sky upon both worlds.

Perhaps it was. All he truly knew of Outworld prior to coming there was what he’d been told by the Augurs when they came to Alora during their pilgrimage when he was a child, and even then, the old legends rarely interested him. At that age, Auberon was more into going hunting with his father in the great mountains of Talei.

He remembered the story of Vaste’lon’s flaming sword-- and how he’d shattered the World Tree when he witnessed the demons Outworld has loosed upon Ayndir. In his head, the denizens of Outworld appeared like Dai’ani to him-- with jet-black skin, yellow eyes, sharp teeth, elongated bodies and limbs.

But the people of Outworld looked nothing like that. They looked like him. Some he’d seen appeared more exotic, with skin tones he’d only ever really seen in Tyrant’s Fall, or the borderlands near the Seat of Cayde. Traders from across the western sea, from lands whose names Auberon couldn’t remember.

For the most part, however, he had to admit he wouldn’t have batted an eye should he ever have crossed paths with an Outworlder in Tyrant’s Fall.

That thought made him fear for his homeland. With how effortlessly the Outworlders had beaten the combined forces of Embrayya, he wondered if they’d yet breached the World Tree into Duna Province and followed Eryn’s High Road all the way to Tyrant’s Fall. With the speed of their vehicles, they could be to the city gates in less than a day.

There was little Auberon could do to prevent that. And to try would only cost him his life before he could exact a price of blood from Outworld.

He’d been walking for the better part of the morning since he’d left the Outworlder dwelling, and was pleased to find that his presence didn’t seem to go noticed. The disguise worked well. So well, in fact, that some Outworlders he’d crossed paths with had smiled at him in greeting.

One in particular, a young woman pushing a four-wheeled contraption he’d later noticed held a baby in it had done much the same and said something. He assumed it was a greeting, so he remembered the word. He had little to no intention of engaging any Outworlders in conversation, but if it meant alleviating suspicion that he might be from Ayndir, it would be useful to know some of their tongue.

Still, despite them thinking him one of them, he wasn’t about to drop his guard.

He’d followed a long road toward the mountains, staying to a side clearly meant for walking while Outworlder vehicles of various size, color, and shape zipped by him. Some were very loud, while others coasted by quietly. He’d seen one such vehicle pass by several times, and it appeared to be ferrying a large number of Outworlders from one destination to another. Auberon had watched one stop across the street at a strange shelter with a bench of metal and glass roof. Some Outworlders got on, others got off, and went about their business without being accosted.

He had to admit he was curious. The mountains were a long way off-- at least a day’s travel by foot. He spared a thought toward Vetzsche and how quickly they’d have been to the mountains if they’d just thought to run the night before. Still, the long, boxy vehicles would save him some travel time. The question fell to whether or not it was an acceptable risk. He watched as some who got on stopped to offer something to the driver, or to touch a strange card up against a device of some kind near the front of the contraption.

He opted against it. Passing greetings to Outworlders was one thing, but being face-to-face with them another entirely.

Instead, he would walk to the mountains. He would walk down this road with its strange blinking light symbols that seemed to be controlled by the strange buttons affixed on the metal poles at every crossroad. He watched other Outworlders interact with them to summon the light shaped like a walking man and then cross the street and was pleased to find that somehow, the light also told the four-wheeled machines to stop and wait  with a red light before telling them to move again with a green one. The yellow light, he deduced through observing the traffic, was a signal to the vehicles to speed up before it turned to red.

He followed the road toward the mountains and was eventually disheartened to discover another river running through. However, in the distance he could see a bridge that spanned it. It wasn’t as large or impressive as the grand bridge they’d first seen after coming over, but from a distance he could see people walking across it. The road he was travelling veered off toward it, so he kept moving.

He seemed to move away from an area filled with Outworlder dwellings to larger buildings kept behind metal fences that surely kept people up, while allowing them the grace to see inside. One such area contained dozens of the long passenger vehicles. He kept his eyes trained on the vehicles as he walked past, and wondered if it was where they were made-- or perhaps it was nothing more than a muster point for them.

He eventually came to some even larger buildings across a field of long, unkempt grass. He could see many vehicles, piloted by many Outworlders coming and going. They were larger than the port warehouses in Tyrant’s Fall, but were adorned by symbols of what he assumed was Outworlder writing. Truth told, Auberon couldn’t even read Embrayyan writing without great effort. Could the Outworlders read them? Why were so many coming to and from, seemingly with bags and boxes they would then load into their vehicles and leave?

He soon came to a busier crossroad than he’d experienced, but the now-familiar button was on a pole off to the side. He pressed it and crossed the road, silently amused that he now had power over the Outworlder vehicles.

When he crossed the street, however, he smelled something… familiar. It was coming from a smaller brown building, with bright red symbols adorned on its side. The smell was unmistakable.

It was coffee. He’d only had coffee once, splurging his coin to take a cup of the piping hot drink favoured by the Clan Houses. It was a drink reserved for the highest order of people. The King, the Clan Heads and wealthy merchants.

But in Outworld, there didn’t seem to be any limitations on it. He doubted every person he watched go through the doors were of noble birth. But each of them seemed to be leaving with a red cup.

He wanted one.

But he couldn’t think of that now. He needed to keep moving.

Finally, after walking away from the enticing aroma for several minutes, he came to the base of the bridge he’d spied earlier and followed a short path through the metal fencing and started to walk across it. He was surprised at how high up the bridge really was-- from the distance he’d seen it was rather squat, but it rose up above the river by nearly a span. Any man who hadn’t ridden a wyvern might have lost his nerve.

In the distance, he saw something that piqued his interest. It appeared to be some sort of aqueduct-- it made sense they’d have them there. Otherwise how would they have delivered fresh running water to the dwelling?

But he realized before too long that it wasn’t an aqueduct at all-- it was a road. A raised road upon which a vehicle unlike any other he’d yet seen on Outworld coasted past.

It was white and blue and there were four of them attached end-to-end, like a train of carriages. He could see glass windows, and was almost certain there were people inside. It seemed to coast down to a covered building. Another came from it, and followed the raised road up in the direction of the mountains.

And it was even faster than the four-wheeled contraptions he’d already come to know. By the time he’d crossed the bridge, he realized the path he was following was leading directly to the open-roofed building.

He came out of the path to a smaller road. He could have carried on traveling to the mountains, but his curiosity got the better of him. He instead approached the building, taking note of the strange ambiance of the area. People mulled around in line-ups at various stations where the long passenger vehicles could come to pick them up and carry them off to destinations unknown.

He realized quickly it was some sort of hub.

Around him were various signs containing more of the Outworlder writing that was starting to become familiar to him. Nobody accosted him as he walked around, listening to the amplified voices and chimes coming from the main building.

People stood at tall boxes, touching strange lights that reacted to their finger-presses. They would, after a short period of time, spit out small cards from a slot near the bottom of the box. The cards appeared to be of similar size as the cards he’d found in the Outworlder’s wallets. The kiosks dispensed them. It reminded him of the stands the ushers would occupy in the Eye of Embrayya in Tyrant’s Fall, where the King would address the people and host Jubilees and events.

Then he realized just how many of them were simply left discarded on the ground nearby. He leaned over and picked one up. It was paper-- but strong paper. There appeared to be something encased inside, and the exterior was covered in writing.

Next to the kiosks, he noticed a board with a series of designs on it.

He paused, then looked closer.

A map. It was a map. The Outworlders had maps displayed for all to see. He looked at it, tracing his finger as he attempted to figure out where he was. His finger fell upon where the river was, then he soon identified the island the World Tree sat on.

He examined the map closely, taking time to second-guess himself before he finally settled. He knew where he was in relation to the map. The mountains were northbound. A series of colored lines spread out from where he stood, at the strange coach hub.

He followed the ones headed north, but was disheartened to find another body of water-- this one much larger-- lay between him and the mountains.

But there appeared to be two areas in which a bridge crossed them.

And one of the colored lines, thicker than the others, led almost all the way to one of them. It was the farther of the two bridges, but if it meant saving time, he might as well try. He looked down again at the card he’d found, then up to the raised road.

It appeared the raised road was the path he would have to take. He looked over toward the building. People came in and out at various intervals, each of them pressing their cards to a small platform, upon which time doors would open automatically, granting them entrance.

He walked over to one, looked at the card he’d found, and pressed it.

Instead of opening, it made an angry sound and flashed a red light at him.

Auberon frowned. He tried again.

Same result.

Suddenly, from behind him he felt someone tap his shoulder. He jumped away in a shock, turning to face his attacker.

But his attacker seemed as shocked as he was. He held out a card in his hand, and said something to him.

Auberon looked to the card. What did the Outworlder want?

Soon it became obvious-- he was offering it to Auberon.

Gingerly, Auberon reached out for it, and the Outworlder met him halfway, placing it directly in his hand. He said something else Auberon couldn’t understand and looked at him inquisitively.

Auberon only knew one word in the tongue of the Outworlders, and he was fairly certain it wasn’t thank you.

He said it anyway, as best he could remember, causing the Outworlder to smile, nod, and then take his leave quickly. Auberon watched as he left, then turned back to the platform.

He pressed the new card across the platform. It flashed green, and the doors swung open before him. He looked back in the direction of the Outworlder who had given him the card. He wasn’t sure how to wrap his head around the idea that he had been shown kindness from an Outworlder, so he pushed it aside and ignored it.

Regardless, he’d achieved success! He followed the path up the stairs and found himself on a long platform made of smooth brick. There were a number of displays of the sort he’d seen at the Outworlder dwelling, various lights shining Outworlder written symbols, and some benches. He took a seat for a moment. Nobody was even looking at him.

Moments later, the strange train of cars coasted into the platform with a grace he’d never really known existed. The contraption seemed to be following tracks laid into the raised road. It slowed to a stop, let out a strange chime, and then doors slid open. Many Outworlders flooded out from it.

Auberon stood staring at the doors for a moment. He then took a deep breath, then stepped inside just as they closed behind him.