Bones of Salt

Roman

"Thank you," Jonathan told me later. "If it wasn't for your powers, we wouldn't have been able to get away."

I shrugged. I had mixed feelings about how my journey as a Prophet was going --- while I definitely liked feeling useful for once, I almost started to understand why Watchers weren't often in the mood to be congratulated. If you have to do something because you're the only one who can, it's not like nobody can really owe you anything for having saved their lives.

"Anyone who could have done something, would have done it," I explained to Jonathan.

We both were trying not to say how scared we really felt. The way Alefpeneash had hurt the both of us was something out of the ordinary even for our regular adventures. We had been lucky to escape him, and the next time we met a villain of that kind, we might not be able to rely on the same luck.

"I hope Solima isn't creepy or anything," Jonathan added. "We're both still bleeding."

"Actually," he grinned. "It would be cool if it was the same as our Solima --- I know a few places where I'd like to go, and all the places where I wouldn't be caught dead looking like I do now."

"If it was the same," I suggested. "It could be the meaning of the quote under the statue --- as above, so below. But if you think about it, it can't be too similar. Solima, especially in the latest century, is not only a sacred city, but also the one which attracts more Creatures. It is a common belief that where is great potential for good there is also a great one for evil. Anyway, other than the royal grounds of King Abraham and his late family, and the streets of Old Solima, almost everything else is meant for either prayer or Watchers' patrol. But in this world there are no Creatures and no Watchers, so it's bound to be different."

"Well," Jonathan shrugged. "As long as there are all the nice restaurants."

We both knew it was wishful thinking, but, after being tortured by a black magic user with 'children' such as Judith Delilah, not to mention having had to cross the strange ocean before it, we were starting to feel understandably homesick. Even if none of us had ever loved their home before.

The Other Side was really all a straight path, where one thing lead to another, and there was nothing else in between but barren lands. We still didn't know if time passed differently there, but it never took us more than a few hours to reach a new destination, and the same could be said for Solima.

"It's really all the same," Jonathan marveled. 

"Not everything" I said. I pointed at a poster plastered on a wall. It looked worn out, and it was a couple of months old, judging by the date. It had a drawing of a good-looking man, with thick dark hair and upturned, heavy-lidded light eyes.

"What does it say?" Jonathan asked me.

"Read it for yourself," I scoffed. 

"Well," he paled slightly. "You're in the way."

"Okay," I sighed. "It says King Abraham has decided to step down due to his old age. His successor, his son Prince Ze'ev has now officially become King Ze'ev."

"So the fire never happened here," Jonathan exclaimed. "And even his wife, the duchess Irene from Càd Irr, and their son Cypress are still alive!"

"Most probably," I agreed. "Unless they died some other way."

"So, is the fire the Watchers' fault?" Jonathan pondered. "Since they're one thing we know for sure that doesn't exist in this world."

"I don't know," I felt uneasy. "It could have played differently for a number of reasons."

I tried to ask my visions to show, or to use the powers that let me see the different world in a different way, but it turned out that, in this dimension, it wasn't so easy for me to function in that mode.