“Welcome to the Bagh-e Lazzat, where youth comes true!”

  After she departed the tram, Crescencia ran to stand in front of the entrance to the grand street with her arms wide open to the sky.

  It was impossible for Foreigner to put the entirety of the street in her vision. The straight line of path, sandwiched between walls of towering buildings, was crowded with people on a weekday at noon. Water was flowing from the gigantic fountain that resembled the Emperor at the center of the street through four aqueducts paved on the ground heading north, east, south and west, with the longest aqueduct heading west connecting the street and the palace of the empire at the far end of the street. The large screens attached to skyscrapers were showing advertisements of all kinds of things Foreigner never thought she would be interested in, while the rustling sound of the shopping bags created a strange harmony with the chattering. As Foreigner took a deep breath in, the mouthwatering aroma entered her lungs and spread in her mouth, preparing for an appetite that it would not have a chance to experience.

  “This is your first time here, right? Amonet?“ Crescencia jumped towards Foreigner in a light hop and grinned with her snaggletooth beaming out an enthusiasm.

  While it was true that this was her first time visiting, she had heard about this place from Octavia before. She called this street the Garden of Pleasure, and explained how this was one way for the Emperor to manipulate his people.

  First, create a place where the denizens could drown themselves in amusement so that they could forget about their cruel lives. Second, show them who made the ecstasy possible with the grand architecture that represents nothing but the Emperor himself, which can be viewed throughout his ‘pleasure garden’. Third, focus on influencing the politically ignorant youngsters with what they wish to hear and do.

  Once then, all the Emperor had to do was to wave his hand at the people cheering at him for providing the luxury covering their bodies, and his minions would trample any opposing voices without a realization of what they were doing. Foreigner had doubts about this policy until she saw the street with her own eyes, and she could see how this approach would work to solidify his power.

  While it made her uneasy, she reminded herself that she was not there to make a judgment on whether this policy was just. Even though she had seen numerous nauseating aspects of the empire already, it was still true that the empire as a whole was being maintained stably. If this street truly were an avatar of evil as it sounded like, someone would burn it down to the ground. But that someone wasn’t her, and that day was not today. She was there to enjoy the day, and that was what she planned on doing.

  “Yup, it sure is! What about you, Ms. Sakurako?“

  As Foreigner spoke in a brightened-up voice, she turned around to see how Sakurako was doing, who nodded her head slightly without a word. However, she looked uncomfortable in a massive crowd, and her eyes darted left and right whenever she heard loud laughter.

  “No way! Sakurako, even you? Alright, my shoulders are heavy with responsibility now. I’ll make sure you two learn the ins and outs of Bagh-e Lazzat today! Come on! We don’t have time to waste!“ Crescencia grabbed onto Foreigner and Sakurako’s wrists then rushed towards the building with a clear glass used as a wall, featuring many mannequins with various clothes and poses.

  As soon as she entered the building, Foreigner felt the chill breeze coming from the air conditioner installed in the ceiling. A kind of sensation that she couldn’t feel back at the inn, as there was no air conditioner and the only fan available made a loud creaking noise whenever it made a cycle. Lately, the heat and humidity became intense as the rainy season approached, and Octavia and Pafnuty often got into an argument about whether to turn the fan on or off. To Foreigner’s surprise, it was usually Pafnuty who won while Octavia brought out an ice cream while cursing in a low, growly voice that she clearly intended for him to hear. With that in mind, Foreigner was thankful for being able to enjoy the cold air with no need to be a middleman squeezed between a quarrel.

  While Foreigner, and Sakurako on her side, enjoyed the moment to cool their heads down, Crescencia scanned the battlefield in front of her. The vast open space was full of stores selling a variety of outfits, and people searching for their new looks swarmed the place like bees collecting honey. Throughout the place, the mannequins with the newest items grabbed the initial attention and drew them to the fabrics on hangers alongside the mirrors that showed reality in a warped reflection.

  Crescencia closed her eyes and concentrated her mind on a single point. The flow of the air, the sound of the footsteps, and the faint echo of the Rhea, all came together to narrow down the destiny to one spot. Abruptly, she opened her eyes with a burning spirit and rushed towards that spot while grasping Foreigner’s wrist.

  “There, Amonet! That’s where our fate lies!“

  Without a moment to raise a question, Foreigner was dragged by Crescencia to the unknown. Once they reached the store, Crescencia got busy hunting for what would fit Foreigner, rather than looking for her own clothes. At this point, Foreigner instinctively knew that today would involve a lot of going in and out of fitting rooms to throw a small fashion show that she never asked for. She sent a distress signal at Sakurako behind her, but, to her surprise, Sakurako was nowhere to be found. Instead, what she got was a determined look from Crescencia with piles of clothes that she would never try on.

  “To the fitting room!“

  “Um, actually, I would prefer something that has fewer frills—“

  “To the fitting room! Now!“

  “Yes, ma’am!“

  Once Crescencia shoved the clothes into Foreigner’s hands, she obliged her order while rolling her confused eyes around. By the time she wondered why she couldn’t just say no, it was the fifth time she was exiting the fitting room in a Gothic Lolita dress.

  “Oh my gosh, you look so pretty!“ Crescencia clapped her hands as she lightly hopped on her feet with happiness dripping from her eyes.

  “Hey, um. I thought we were finding something to wear, you know, outside…?“ Foreigner raised the tone at the end of her sentence in a questionable manner, and Crescencia stopped her words by placing her finger on top of Foreigner’s mouth.

  “What do you mean? You look gorgeous right now, little bird.“ Suddenly, Crescencia spoke in a low and handsome voice that made Foreigner’s heart stop for a flashing moment. “Okay, wait here! I’ll get more stuff for you to try on!“ And she left, leaving a gushing wind blowing in her path.

  Foreigner finally found time to take a breather, and she still had nothing she would like to buy. In the end, all she had done so far was wear outfits Crescencia wished to see her in, but none of them were something she liked nor what she had enough courage to wear in public. In harsh truth, she only had enough money for one pair of clothes, so she had to make a clever decision that would be passed down through generations as a lesson.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  While waiting for Crescencia, she walked around the store to see if Sakurako was in here too. To her surprise, she actually did find her, standing in front of a poster featuring a Shakh Sah who was smaller than average height in a pure white one-piece dress on a beach with a gorgeous sunset behind her. And to her side, Foreigner found the same dress as the model in the poster was wearing, so she grabbed one and handed it to Sakurako in a single stream of thought.

  “Why don’t you try it on? It’s going to look really nice on you, Ms. Sakurako!“

  At the sudden approach, Sakurako was visibly startled. She stared at the dress Foreigner was holding and slowly extended her arms towards it, with hesitation flinching her fingers during the process. That was when a murmur was heard from the side, and Sakurako froze in place with her pupils dilated and turned around to rush out of the building, as if she was running away.

  “Wait! Aren’t you going to try it?“

  Foreigner shouted at Sakurako’s back, but there was no response. Instead, the murmur on the side became audible to her as well, and she realized why Sakurako acted as such by then.

  “Whoa, she ran away. Boring.“

  “Did she really think that dress would fit her? She’s way too big for that.“

  “I wanted to see her in it. It would have been hilarious!“

  A meaningless chitchat of three ladies to waste their time and foul breaths. At the words brainless buffoons were spitting out, Foreigner could not help but give a fierce glare with wrath overflowing from her eyes. The ladies soon got the message to their bones and ran away with their tails between their legs, figuratively for two and literally for the other.

  Foreigner thought of confronting them face to face until they apologized to Sakurako, but there was no time for that. Instead, she ran after Sakurako at full speed, catching up to her outside the building and snatching her wrist rather forcefully.

  “Ah! That hurts!“ Sakurako shook Foreigner’s hand off and caressed her wrist to soothe the pain that Foreigner caused.

  “S—sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you; I just wanted you to try that dres—“

  “I don’t want to! Why do you care? Just leave me alone!“

  Foreigner was stunned to see Sakurako being mad. No, it wasn’t anger that she witnessed. It was a sorrow. Immense amounts of sorrow revolving within the soul without an exit, contained behind her irises and blocking the tears from dripping.

  Foreigner was getting the same feeling as she did when she witnessed Pafnuty being discriminated against. The heavy weight that was pressing on her lungs, as if a boulder was crushing her ribs. This uncanny sensation was not derived from the heroic part of her not being able to pass over an injustice. It was the opposite. Because she couldn’t fully emphatize with the victims. It was simply impossible to understand something she had never experienced. The only thing she could do was to spit out the words that she learned to say in this kind of situation, because it was the right thing to say. But she wasn’t sure if it truly was the right thing to say.

  What should she say right now? What could she say right now? Is it really the answer to say something along the lines of ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I didn’t mean to’? Does that solve anything other than pacifying the immediate situation? The ultimate goal of Foreigner was to have Sakurako wear that white one-piece dress. But why?

  Four seconds had passed in the real world, and Sakurako bit her lips and turned around. Foreigner had to say something, even if it was primitive. So she did.

  “What’s wrong with wishing to see something beautiful?“

  Sakurako stopped and looked at Foreigner dumbfounded, whose lips were tightly pressed as she reiterated what she had just said within her mind.

  “You really are selfish,“ Sakurako said, with wrinkles forming between her eyes. “You can’t say anything other than what you want, can’t you?“

  At her sharp words, Foreigner felt a switch being flipped in her brain, and spat out anything that came to her tongue without a filter.

  “Oh, yeah? I don’t want to hear that from someone who can’t even say what they want. Wear the damn dress if you want to, and stop minding what those smooth brains have to say!“

  She unintentionally yelled at a volume higher than average in the street, causing everyone surrounding them to notice the commotion. Sakurako noticed the attention they were gathering and wished she could just disappear into thin air. But she couldn’t back down in this argument yet.

  “What do you know about me! Do you have any idea how much it hurts to see a dress that you want to try but know for sure that it will look awful?“

  “No, I don’t! Do you know why? Cause I know damn well that it will look nice on you!“

  The audience formed around the two, but it was only Sakurako who noticed the growing murmur around them. Foreigner was still fuming out of her head, not even sure why they were in an argument anymore but was going on with it anyway. For Sakurako, her face brightened up in red, and she knew too well that the daring lady in front of her wouldn’t leave her alone until she achieved what she wanted.

  “Excuse me. You there with the black dress.“

  Suddenly, a gigantic dry hand with cracks over the skin grabbed Foreigner’s left shoulder from behind. When she turned around, there stood a Vaz in an outfit that looked to be that of a security officer.

  “What do you think you are doing, leaving the store without paying? I need you to come with me to the office.“

  Only then, Foreigner realized she was still in the Gothic Lolita dress Crescencia asked her to try. Her face turned red with embarrassment, but she couldn’t figure out which was more mortifying — the fact that she was wearing this outfit in public or being caught as a thief. She trembled in place with her lips moving up and down as her mind entered a state of nothingness, and Sakurako chuckled behind her at the sudden entertainment.

  “I’m sorry, officer. She had something to tell me urgently, and that must have swept it from her mind completely. Please allow us to return to the store so that she can make the purchase.“

  The Vaz in front of Foreigner exhaled his breath through his nose rather heavily, but he seemed to be understanding the mistake Foreigner made. With relief filling her stomach, Foreigner turned her head around to see Sakurako’s smile for the first time since she knew her. And with a voice devoid of the anger she held just a moment ago, she spoke.

  “I also have a dress I’d like to try at that store anyway.“

  The air within the Emperor’s palace lay still.

  In a vast room themed in wooden brown instead of avarice gold, the portrait of Emperor Cyrus depicted one side of the room, watching over the other side filled with shelves of books about wars and tactics. The middle of the room housed a long meeting table that took up about two third of the room, and at the other side of the entrance stood a desk with well-organized documents piled on top of it. Behind it was a wall made of clear glass, and General Xerxes was standing behind it, watching over Pasargadae under the setting sun.

  Soon, a knock on the door broke the silence followed by the sound of a door opening. After the echo of footsteps rang through the room four times, a voice too familiar to Xerxes filled the room.

  “General Xerxes. We have located the hideout of the murderer. However, we are yet to locate the murderer himself.”

  Despite the calling, Xerxes did not turn around. Instead, he looked over at the Bagh-e Lazzat sitting in his view, filled with people drowning themselves in pleasure. And that was how the people of Pasargadae should be. Living within the pleasure that they never thought they needed.

  “Put the hideout under surveillance. Once the murderer comes back, wait until night shrouds the city, then arrest him with the minimum force necessary. Citizens of the Empire do not need to know about this.“

  Once hearing the order from Xerxes, the voice from behind left the room without another word.

  After the closing sound of the door was heard for the second time, Xerxes turned around to approach his desk. Amidst the documents piled together, there was one report in the center of the desk. He had already read through it several times just today, yet he picked it up to read it one more time. There was a name. A name that he could not get out of his mind. A name that he must know about.

  He raised his head to glare at the portrait of the Emperor. The portrait had always been there ever since he got assigned to the room, which was too big even for the General of the capital. It was as if the gluttonous smile of the Emperor was mocking him on every level, making him clench his fist in a wrath that was solely his. He averted his eyes back to the report, to read that name once again.

  “Foreigner.”

  From Far End Of This World | Royal Road