The Distortion

Contemplating the town of Barka unearthed some distant memories—downright dusty—for Adam. The buildings, the disposition of the village and the lifestyle as a whole didn’t resemble his hometown before the Distortion. The entire landscape was just not the same, a lot of elements being different or missing altogether.

What could be classified as modern technology, ranging from advanced vehicles to sophisticated infrastructure, barely affected the town of Barka, if it did at all. The streets were mostly filled with people just…walking. At most you’d find two or three carts driven by horses, donkeys or even individuals themselves.

Then there was the dressing code which didn’t adhere to an elaborate—sometimes eccentric—sense of fashion dictated by a famed designer. Simple caftans, turbans and scarves were roughly all the clothing you could see. The main difference you could spot was either in the quality of the silk or some pattern ornamenting the cloth.

All in all, a stark contrast from where he’d just been. And yet, Adam didn’t feel like a stranger, regardless of the odd looks thrown his way.

The entire situation felt as if someone had been teleported back to a past iteration of his own country. You could read about it in history books, watch some documentary of it or visit some remnants of said era, but never fully live in it. Still, it shouldn’t be impossible for such scenery to feel close and familiar to the individual, bearing small hints of what was once considered home.

Maybe that’s why Adam’s sense of nostalgia was triggered.

Or maybe it was simply the merchants’ clamor that would forever be engraved in his memory. They were shouting as loud as humanly possible, hawking their merchandise, trying to bring in customers and if you ever fell for it…well, you could be damn sure you would not leave empty handed. Whether it was their sweet talk or their borderline harassment, you would buy from them—your approval be damned.

“I see some things never change.” Adam said.

“Tell me about it…I mean those guys could be on the moon, millennia from now and they would still be the same.”

“I’m almost tempted to go buy something.” Adam seemed to rejoice at the idea

“Yeah…no, not happening, especially since you don’t look from around here. You will be held hostage until they empty your pockets, you know the drill with tourists…” Laith sighed.

“Except I’m somewhat from around here, so imagine the look on their faces when they figure out that I was just playing them.” Adam laughed ominously.

“That would indeed be hilarious.” Laith rubbed his chin.

“Well, what do you say?”

“Hey, have at it, but you’ll be going solo on this one—obviously people recognize me around here. I’ll walk you to one of the guys I know and you take it from there.”

The choice fell upon Hassan, a shop owner who sold spices. As planned, Laith stood outside so that he wouldn’t be noticed. Adam stepped in and greeted the merchant with much innocence, acting all dumb and gullible at first. He also made an effort to speak with an accent to further fool Hassan since there was no point in pretending not to speak the language.

After the Distortion, the language barrier has been mostly broken due to the world’s population—spanning different ages—getting shuffled like a deck of cards. The result was people mastering numerous other languages other than their own—speaking wise at least. Communication had never been so easy.

At any rate, Hassan bought into Adam’s act and, as expected, started asking for much higher prices than what was normally the case. Now it wasn’t uncommon for foreigners to negotiate a little, but to haggle tenaciously and settle on a lower price than the original…the look on Hassan’s face was priceless. It got even funnier when Adam dropped the accent and spoke fluently.

The shop owner, figuring out he was talking to no tourist, got a little flustered. He most likely started having funny ideas about who Adam might be. It wasn’t uncommon for committees to send officers of the law to make the rounds in the market. They would usually do surprise visits to merchants, whether to check the quality of their merchandise or control the prices. In principle, it was a free market, but not without supervision from the authorities.

The color of Hassan’s face was slowly fading away as he could do nothing more than stutter. That’s when Laith came out of hiding bursting out in laughter alongside his brother who could barely keep a straight face throughout the entire conversation.

There was a world where it could have gotten ugly, as in Laith and his brother kicked out of the shop. Hassan, luckily, wasn’t the type of man to get angry at such pranks and laughed it off instead. In the end, he even offered them some quality spices for free, a congratulatory gesture to Laith who was reunited with his brother.

Adam hadn’t realized how much he missed this, all of this. The little interactions, the small gestures, the precious moments…they all seemed like memories from a time immemorial. To relive those moments again reminded him of a sweetness to life he’d almost forgotten.

Nothing, however, was sweeter than coming back home and reuniting with his family again. It hit him even more when he noticed how similar the house was to his grandparents’. Before the Distortion, it would have been considered a house fashioned after a traditional style.

However, as it stood right now, it simply followed the norm of the town. A square building with thick walls, few windows, two stories and most notably, the roofless courtyard in the center around which the rooms were arranged.

Laith opened the door. “Mama, I’m home and I brought someone with me!”

“Bringing strangers home now, are we? You could have warned me at least, the house is a mess…”

“Hi mama.”

He didn’t really need to speak or say anything for her to recognize him. Her motherly instinct kicked in without the slightest delay. No matter how much he had grown since she last saw him and no matter how drastically different he looked, he was her son, her own flesh and blood. She would recognize him anytime, anywhere.

As soon as she saw him, the plate she was holding in her hands slipped and shattered upon hitting the ground. If it were any other time, she would have been upset by the incident, however small, but right then, the whole world around her could catch fire and she wouldn’t bat an eye. The only thing on her mind was to rush to her son and embrace him as hard as she could.

Fairouz was eventually convinced she would never see Adam again, thinking she already exhausted her luck with the miraculous reunion with her husband and younger son. After all, many others were nowhere near as lucky as she was, not even getting the chance to hope for something good, let alone it coming to pass. Best to not get too greedy.

So when the unthinkable happened—for a second time no less—tears of joy came flooding out of her eyes. Unable to properly express how she felt, all she could do was hold him tighter and tighter. And it was more than enough for her son. Adam couldn’t have asked for better than a simple hug, a hug that, for a brief moment, made him forget about all that he had endured thus far.

“It’s alright mama, I’m here now.” Adam said softly.

Though he realized that this wouldn’t last for as long as he would have liked, he put it aside for now. Adam simply embraced the moment.

“Your …father…. will be… so happy…” she said through sobs.

He didn’t answer immediately…strangely so.

“I’m surprised you had no suspicions about the note I left you.” Adam eyed his brother.

Laith cocked his head. “Huh?”

“Baba and I already met few days ago.” Adam declared.

“WHAT?!”

Taking place were few moments of a total freak-out, followed by a police interrogation where a million questions were asked. “When was this? Why didn’t he tell us? How did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Adam knew it was inevitable.

“It was never my intention to hide anything from you.” He stated

“Well, whichever the case, you still owe us an explanation. Especially your mother.” Laith said.

“Sure do.” Adam nodded.

* * *

Though the man himself predicted his demise, it was a tragic moment nonetheless.

The assassination of the president happened soon after he entrusted me with the truth concerning the three seals. An assassination executed by men from Neumund itself to silence troublesome voices so that critical information wouldn’t leak. Obviously, the version presented to the masses—thrown into complete disarray at the time—presented the deceased as “a martyr who was murdered by cowards”.

Some contrived pretense was fabricated to explain this sudden assassination, which was quite frankly laughable. I could have easily debunked it since I knew what actually happened, but that hardly mattered since I was next on the chopping block. The message was made very clear: do not mess with us or we will kill you, no matter how strong you think you are.

They wouldn’t risk anyone spreading rumors or information that didn’t fit their narrative. A narrative they found the perfect excuse to solidify. An ideal scapegoat was found to put the blame on—an even better fit than me—whose appearance coincided with the events of the assassinations.

A mysterious woman with white hair.

My enemies were fortunate to find someone to frame, but I too was fortunate for that woman’s actions. Evidently, I was the primary target after the president before her intervention, which turned out to be an absolute blessing. Not only did she save me directly from an enemy pursuit—albeit inadvertently—but the uproar she would cause in the next few days diverted the attention from me.

The reason behind her appearance and her true motives remained a mystery to me. She had no intention of engaging in a conversation, despite me being at the center of the turmoil at the time. Regardless, I had another priority to attend to: leaving the country.

The mysterious woman was branded as a terrorist and a threat to national security, which caused Neumund to go into lockdown. No entry or exit allowed. A perfect opportunity to install an isolation policy some politicians and activists were strangely endorsing ever since the country’s foundation. Aside from its secluded location, the ideas promoted by those individuals contributed to Neumund’s minimal interaction with the outside world. No wonder most people in Earth 2.0 didn’t even know Neumund existed. It was certainly odd that a country reminiscing of the era of globalization would lean towards adopting an isolation policy.

Nevertheless, I had to face that reality. “How to get out of this hellhole” was the main goal I devoted all my thinking and energy towards. I had to go that route if I wanted to honor the efforts of the man who passed on his will to me, because no help could be found inside Neumund. I considered cooperating with the mysterious woman, but I could never get a hold of her.

Time was running out and I was left with one option: seeking outside assistance.

Two major forces—besides Neumund—resided within the continent: the Empire of Ashkanian and the Furat Sultanate. The sultanate was the more likely candidate to get help from considering they were essentially my people. However crazy my story might sound I was betting on the small chance to find someone who was willing to lend a hand, or even an ear. Simply believing would be a start.

The question of how to leave Neumund was still unanswered though. A few options were available to me, either force my way through the borders on my own or have myself smuggled out of the country with the help of…questionable people. Essentially, I had to choose which scumbags to deal with. I picked my poison and I opted for the second alternative.

The deal involved delivering me under the guise of a trade with fishermen from the Sultanate. The “exchange of goods” took place on a remote coast, far from Neumund’s actual domain. Apparently, this had gradually grown to be the go-to procedure for those who wanted to defect from Neumund. The fishermen receiving them were told that they were welcoming political refugees suffering from oppression. Not much convincing was needed, nothing a little bit of actual goods wouldn’t solve anyway.

Luckily for me, this sort of shady business—completely unknown to me prior to this—wasn’t affected by the ongoing turmoil because Neumund wasn’t technically part of it. After all, the isolationist policy dictated no official relations with foreign parties, which naturally opened the door wide open for plenty of off-the-record transactions and affairs.

Frankly, there was a lot to unpack about this unraveling dark side of Neumund, but I was mainly glad to be granted a safe passage. That didn’t make it an ideal offer though, far from it. I wasn’t allowed to carry any item; all of my possessions would have to remain in Neumund. Even the clothes I had to wear were provided to me…a solid display of humiliation. Better than being dead, I guess.

Despite the dire predicament I was in, luck hadn’t completely abandoned me. During the trade, a tempest of emotions swirled inside me when I saw that my father was onboard the ship. I didn’t just find any acquaintance; I found my father. Even better, my entire family would be waiting for me, including a brother who was blessed with a suitable Incarnation for the mission ahead.

The ecstasy I felt at that moment notwithstanding, an opportunity presented itself: delay my escape by a few days and come back better prepared. I would risk being chased down, except I would have someone, a dependable someone, meet me along the way and secure my escape. Going back to Neumund would mean that I would have spent a quarter of my fortune for naught—to secure the deal—but reuniting with my father was worth all the fortunes of the world.

I left a note with baba and told him to deliver it to Laith exactly two days from that day.

At the night of the appointed day, and after gathering my belongings, I forced my way through the borders. Naturally, this caused quite the commotion, but I knew all I had to do was reach the sultanate’s territory as quickly as possible. Neumund could not invest heavy resources to chase me otherwise it would seem like a declaration of war.

Even if they were brave enough to declare war—which they weren’t—it would be no simple task to mobilize an entire army and have it cross the continent from its distal half of to its proximal half. And it didn’t even have to do with Neumund’s current mess but rather the major obstacle known as the Scorch.

Ultimately, a night-long hunt led to my reunion with Laith.