Part 4: The Road to Green Port

Philip walked along the dusty road in silence, the only sounds around him being the gentle breeze from the sea and the soft tread of his shoes upon the ground. Nothing made sense any more. He walked through the peaceful countryside as though in a dream, his mind racing with thoughts terrible and unbelievable. All he could do was stare straight ahead of him at the long, straight brown path making its way through the lush, green fields.

He had been walking for nearly three hours before he finally forced himself to stop. He stepped off the road and sank to his knees beneath an old willow tree, eventually falling into a seated position. He reached into his bag and removed an apple he had brought with him, sinking his teeth into it, absently chewing. It was a sweet golden apple, his favorite kind ever since he was a child. Something about the color always intrigued him.

Leaning back against the trunk of the tree, he continued to chew quietly, his mind drifting back toward his childhood, an era of his life that seemed so long ago. His youth was spent split between White Oak, the small community that had just been annihilated, and the port city of Green Port, which he prayed was still standing. Green Port had a population of nearly 50,000, making it one of the most populated cities in all the realm of Terris, his homeland.

White Oak was the village he’d spend his spring and summer in, working the fields, learning to farm and to tend gardens. It was an agricultural community, and the people there were very content with their life. Green Port was almost the exact opposite. It was a center of thriving industry, one of the biggest trade hubs in all of Eastern Midland. It was a clean, well-off city with a populace that was always on the move. If you didn’t own a boat, a horse, or a cart, you knew at least three people who did.

Philip would spend the fall and winter in Green Port learning a good deal about trade, navigation, and astronomy from his uncle, a man who worked in the small-time shipping business between Green Port and the island city of Dulthran approximately thirty miles East into the sea. The man knew the waters well, and he could navigate the bay on a cloudy night. Philip admired and loved his uncle, but it had been nearly four years since he’d seen him.

Taking one last bite from the apple, he tossed the core to the side and forced himself to his feet, continuing onward. He had gone about six miles from the burned-out remains of White Oak, and Green Port was still another six miles further. It was a walk Philip would never forget because he was never able to remember what it was he had thought about that day.

The winter visits to Green Port had stopped when Philip turned 19. He decided that he wanted to stay in White Oak year-round because the agricultural life appealed to him much more than the trade industry. His uncle was disappointed, but he understood. Philip was always more interested in the earth than in business, and no man was going to change that. It was four years ago that he left Green Port for the last time.

As the walk continued, Philip began to become more aware of his surroundings than when he first departed his one-time home. The sea breeze felt good, as did the warmth of the late afternoon sun. His body was tired and he was emotionally drained, but he was left with the feeling that things might actually turn out all right. That feeling quickly left him as soon as he remembered what had happened, and the bitterness once again rose in his throat.

As the sun set behind the Silmer Mountains in the West, Philip was nearing the end of his journey. The sea was within view over the horizon, and the stars were beginning to appear as the Eastern sky darkened. Pausing for a moment, Philip turned and looked back in the direction he had come for the first time all day. He heaved a sigh, then turned his gaze in the direction of the sunset. The small clouds that were hanging in the Western sky were alight with beautiful hues of pink, purple, orange, and red. In that moment, Philip wanted to cry.

He turned quickly and continued toward the South, finally reaching the last rise in the earth above the valley the city was located in. Once atop it, he looked down into the city he knew so well. The Green River ran through the center of the town and emptied into the sea, which was beginning to shine with the reflected stars above.

In the streets below, hundreds of lanterns had been lit to light the streets. Even at night, Green Port was busting with life and activity. A small smile came over Philip’s lips as he began to descend the road toward the vibrant municipality he had once called home.