The City of Ionia

3. The Girl With No Answers (Part III)



A week went by after our first sting operation. Using a few of the possessions we’d stolen, we traded them for some currency. We didn’t give up much—only a few “magical crystals” that some weirdo wanted. If you carry them around, it somehow normalizes your heart rate and blood circulation. He believed in that bullshit.

We used our money to buy a steaming cup of coffee at a local cafe. After our hard work, we deserved to spoil ourselves. Marshall had to assist me with my order since coffee was strangely confusing. Black coffee, coffee with milk, one scoop of sugar, coffee with milk and no sugar. Coffee with special herbs added.

What the hell? Who made up all this?

“Cheers to one week!”

“Cheers!”

Marshall led the miniature celebration. We tapped mugs and took a sip. One tiny sip summoned an inferno within my mouth. My inner mouth was melting. Marshall grabbed the water bottle out of his bag and handed it to me. I chugged it right there, slamming it on the table.

“Goddamn, that’s stupidly hot!”

“No shit. Did you not see the steam coming up?”

“Of course I did.” I took another sip of water, straining the pain.

“Idiot,” he muttered.

I raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Did I not pronounce my words correctly? I called you an ‘idiot.’”

“Says the one who was saved by a fragile girl.”

“You did not save me. And you’re not even fragile!”

The spiky, black-haired freak took another sip of his coffee. The week I’ve been with him was one I wouldn’t trade for anything. Through times when I’d been alone, roaming from town to town, with no telling what was to come. Where there wasn’t anyone by my side, making me smile at every little thing, making me feel comfortable.

That was him—the boy with ridiculously stupid morals for a starving person. In one week, that boy gave me doubts about continuing my dream.

Wait a minute. Who was I kidding? That wasn’t just a dream. It was a dream of an angel. A dream she couldn’t fulfill and one I promised to do. I told myself one thing: I would climb towards it till Raphtalia told me otherwise.

Which was impossible.

How much longer should I stay here? There was nothing left for me. Why did I stay here in the first place? The promise, the dream, must be fulfilled.

While Marshall sipped on his coffee, I asked, “Do you have a dream? Or perhaps an answer you wish to have?”

He almost fumbled the mug out of his hands. “Woah, what’s with this late-night thought? Pretty deep, right?”

“Just answer it.”

“Ummm… ok?” He rubbed his thumb on the bottom of his chin. “Well, I do want infinite money. That is a dream of mine.”

“N-No. Something more realistic.”

“Oh, if we have to go off realism, then probably to meet my father. I don’t know if he’s even alive right now, but I want to see him if he is. I want to know a bunch of things: why he left me, why he left Mom, where he’s been. He doesn’t have to love me or anything. I want to talk with him, just once.” He sounded unusually depressed, similar to how he is when speaking about his mother.

“What if I told you there could be a way? Would you believe me?”

“You don’t know my father.”

“Well, duh, I don’t. But what if I told you there’s a place containing all the answers known to man?”

“Then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

Wow, that was blunt.

Ignoring his snappy comment, I moved on to my words. “There’s a place called the House with Answers. It’s on top of the highest peak near Walisburg. It contains answers to any question you have, hence the name.”

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

I face-palmed myself. “I’m not! Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because this seems very unrealistic. If a house grants any answer, why hasn’t anyone abused it yet?” His thinking scared me.

Well, I didn’t have the answer to this, so time to make up something on the fly.

“Because it comes with a cost. After you die, your soul immediately goes to the lowest floor of Hell, where you’d be brutally tortured for all eternity.”

He gave me a black stare. “Am I seriously supposed to believe this?”

That didn’t work. C’mon, think harder. What would convince him to come with me?

While struggling to come up with anything, Marshall opened his mouth.

“Do you have something you need answers to?”

I know I was the one who asked originally, but that question spun my brain faster than it already was. I did have something. It wasn’t achievable with answers. Answers would only provide the building blocks for my goal. But that was enough for me.

“Do you believe in the concept of equality?” I asked.

“Equality? Umm…sure, I guess?”

Well, that wasn’t confident.

“Do you know why outsiders are in the position we are today?”

He rolled his eyes at me. “Is this some petty history lesson you’re giving me? It kinda reminds me of my mother in ways.”

“If you know, then answer me.”

“Well, outsiders are here because our ancestors were sinners. They were exiled from the City of Ionia due to their sins and forced to survive outside the walls. If you know this already, what’s the deal with asking?”

My chin rested on my interlocked fingers. “It’s pretty unfair how we are here, rotting away while Ionians thrive inside the walls. Have you ever wondered what life was like inside paradise? Have you ever dreamed of living inside the walls?”

“Well, not really. I was happy with my mother, so wherever she went, I’d follow. She often expressed how life could’ve been much easier inside the walls. Yet again, we don’t know much other than stories.”

A memory popped into my mind.

He told me it was true—the slim man in all black who hid behind a faceless mask. He told me this was the way—that the House with Answers would provide me with the solution to any question. If he said it, then it must be absolute.

“The other side is filled with wonders we don’t know. It’s a paradise for mankind. This savage world we survive in is absent within those walls. I’m sure of it.”

He gave me a puzzled look. “My mother used to say something similar. She always babbled about how Ionia had everything outsiders dreamed of. It was more than a paradise—it was more like Heaven. Our ancestors passed down these images to us, but we could only imagine what it’s like now.”

“Do you picture it to be worse?”

He chuckled a bit. “No.” He took a slight pause, staring at his half-empty mug. “I imagine it to be better than Heaven.”

Now, that was an answer I was content hearing.

“What if I told you the reason why I desperately desire to reach the House with Answers was to see if there’s a way outsiders and Ionians can live together?”

He smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You must be one idiot to believe that can happen.”

Of course, I had to believe. It’s Raphtalia’s dream, after all—one where I must finish unless she says otherwise.

Which was impossible.

“If outsiders thrived in Ionia—in paradise—everyone’s lives would be easier. Starvation wouldn’t be an issue. Territorial problems wouldn’t exist. The list goes on.” I only knew these from overhearing the guards talking about them constantly.

“I guess? It’s all speculation, but I could see how major outsider problems would diminish. There’s more good than bad on our part, but do you think Ionia would agree to this?”

“That’s why the House with Answers is my best bet. There, a path will be paved for me to walk on. And while we’re there, you could ask about your father.”

“That is pretty tempting. But this place you’re speaking of is too good to be true.”

“I know for a fact it’s true.” My voice turned into a mumble. “It has to be.”

“You said it’s at the highest peak in Walisburg, right?” Marshall said while picking up the mug. “If that’s the case, we’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

I slammed my palms on the table, jumping off my seat. “Really? You’ll come with me?” I didn’t even have to ask. He’ll come with me?

“Watch it! Don’t break the table, we’ll have to pay—Hey! Stop! My coffee!”

I couldn’t hide my joy while vigorously shaking Marshall’s body.

Raphtalia, I’m almost there. Sooner or later, I’ll be one step closer to fulfilling what you couldn’t.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.