by Marc Mulero
All of this felt otherworldly. Well, it was, technically; he was on another sphere, another planet. How else could he explain a Kujin still walking among them?
He sighed to himself. It was hard, but he heeded Kyta’s request and stayed in the present, his eyes eventually focusing on the icicles Mudry threatened him with during his mock play.
“So Mudry, what are in those things? You had me think they were bodies.” He pointed to dark blue centers of each one.
“Hah! I get you good, eh?” Mudry’s said. “Those is relics. Ram great collector of his people. He say, in million years, when we gone, what is treasured will stay.”
“We should just put my esper in one of those and be done with it, then.” Eres was still fixated.
Kyta giggled. “So you’re not all doom and gloom, huh?”
“No… I guess not.” He turned to her and smiled.
“Good! Because I have a lot to show you,” she perked up and started out of Ramillion’s quarters, “so come on.”
They strolled along through an archway of the deepest blue hanging overhead, running water dashing back and forth within it like a luge that ignored gravity.
“Decorative?” Eres asked.
“Useful,” she proclaimed. “It’s part of our piping and filtration systems. We pull from the infinitely vast sheet of snow you fell through to get here. There’s more than any population could ever consume.”
“Don’t tell the Factions that. They’ll take it as a challenge.”
“Mustae forbid! Anyway, look here.” She traced her finger past the archway and high into the wall it connected to. “We syphon everything through the entry filters above, melting snow down, clearing it of toxins. Then it’s dispersed all over the UnderSpire for drinking, bathing, waste… you get the point.”
Eres nodded as the next hallway fanned out into what appeared to be a small city. The ceiling rose even higher, the walls expanded gradually, epically, showing a busy population greater than he could’ve imagined. Hundreds of people of all types, down here?
There, a group of soldiers, Dagos by the looks of them – with long, thickly locked Mohawks running from head down to back. They had triangle-shaped cloths rested over their faces and paint under their eyes, all light blue in color. Even their hair was dyed sapphire. Everything, it seemed, mirrored the city’s temperament.
“The UnderSpire,” Eres repeated, “and these are what, its guardians?”
Spears taller than soldiers - unwieldy in Eres’ opinion – with sharp tips. He glanced down to the Dagos’ closed-toe glowing shoes, likely some type of Verglas adapted flenos, then scanned up to see Glite of varying design with oddly etched symbols. They looked like exaggerated theater masks protruding from their chests that were as foreign as the language Mudry was muttering earlier. The Dagos were fierce. Disciplined. Intimidating. But when they passed Kyta, their eyes crinkled. Could it be that through their masks, they were… smiling?
She waved happily at them and Mudry bowed. “Warriors of the Deep,” she said proudly. “Descendants of soldiers who fought in the Old Wars. Their families follow strict beliefs, revere the Dagos mystics that serve Mustae’s will.”
Eres fought hard not to roll his eyes, especially with Ohndee’s voice playing in his head, telling him something about following rules unquestioningly and listening to more gibberish about their God. Sure, he’d seen enough by now to know that life was surely not as plain as he’d originally thought - his esper, Reach, and the idea of Sorcery all played their parts. But it was hard for him not to side with Dee on this one. To justify generations of following rules blindly when it’s not like Mustae herself descended from the heavens with instructions… well, that was just senseless.
Loose beliefs held onto with iron grips. Is there anything more foolish? It’s fear; they’re just scared of chaos. I’ve seen Gushda, he wanted to shout out. It’s just organized chaos. There’s no place for rigidness in there.
“You seem skeptical.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Eres arched an eyebrow.
“You have tells.”
“Oh yeah? What am I thinking now?”
“That you’re different, that you don’t believe like they do, blah blah.” She shrugged and kept on.
“Hm. Not bad.” He shrugged back at her.
“You may think this stupid,” Mudry pointed to the warriors as they passed, “but if no for them, you no be here now. Skrols would no exist. Secret would be out. World would be sham-bells.”
“Shambles, you mean? That’s a lot of assumptions, Mudry.”
“He’s right, you know.” Kyta glanced back. “Mudry speaks to the arrow of time. That the Founder set all of these chosen lineages on a sure path, to protect some sacred truth that we’re not meant to know. Something that would break us.”
“I’m aware, Kyta. My whole family seems to have either already given or is on their way to giving their life for it, me included.”
“Oh,” she nodded, “here it is again, that gloom. Oof, Mudry, can you imagine if we acted like him all the time? We’d be a bunch of sad sacks living purposelessly in exile.”
Mudry shook his head. “Thank you no.”
Eres crossed his arms, glancing between the two of them.
Kyta tilted her head in judgement. “You seem to dislike destiny, all of these facets swirling around the arrow for generations, guiding it to us, here, now, where we’re meant to be.”
“Ah, the preachiness I expected. Thank you for not disappointing.”
“Okay, Mr. Fun,” Kyta poked, “what do you believe?”
Eres laughed almost mockingly. “Questioning, being skeptical, science, facts.”
“Skeptical? Even after owning one of those?” She pointed to his finger. “You’ve lived in Gushda. You must be the first in all of our visitors to still deny.”
“Hmpfh,” Eres grunted, “I want to ask a question, but I fear it will be ‘off with my head’ if I do.”
“Said is joking before, Mr. Fun. Slow Man is better name, I think.” Mudry blinked.
Kyta tilted her head in agreement.
“Fine. What if there is no Founder? What if we just tore at the fabric of Rudo and stumbled our way into Gushda? Why does there have to be some entity or ancient person, that gave it to us? You said it yourself, I’ve lived in Gushda and I’ve seen not even a shadow of this being everyone speaks of.”
“There doesn’t have to be a shadow. There simply is, or was, rather. I think you’ll find our athenaeum to be slightly more organized than Elesion’s.”
“More rigid you mean?”
Kyta put her hands on her hips. “There’s no pleasing you, is there, Mr. Fun? Now here I thought you’d come here for answers. Imagine that,” she looked over to Mudry and gestured to Eres, “we offer them to him, and he still finds a way to see it in a negative light.”
At that moment, he judged her, really judged her – taking in her presence for the first time. Hair smooth like his own, but clumped into usual Dagos locks. Ten years his senior, easily. And something was off. Different. Her features weren’t as long as the rest of the Dagos that Eres had met. They were mousy even. A button nose, face less oblong than the others, and her demeanor was surely not as powerful as the rest.
“Now you’re considering me? Rude.” Her tone was still playful.
“You’ve done the same, but you did it while my back was turned, while I thought this oaf was the Crown.” He poked Mudry.
For the first time, they all shared a laugh.
“You’re right, you know. I did come here not only because I was told to, but because I want answers. And although Elesion’s library was vast, it didn’t have what I sought.”
Kyta gave Mudry a knowing smile. “We know, Eres.”
“How?”
Mudry jumped in before he could get his answer though. “I show you room. You like.”
“Umm.”
“You sleep. Is late. Then morning I give present. Okay?”
“E
rr....okay.”
Eres was exhausted. He’d barely slept the night before, considering it was his hero’s send-off and all. Not seeing his friends ever again, not seeing her – Windel. What a fleeting gift that had been, to find her again. And the kiss. He would remember that forever.
What we could have been…
He followed closely behind them, listening loosely to more about the UnderSpire and their ways. He wondered if Ilfrid had ever actually been in there or if he was just the messenger, bringing Skrols to and fro in the height of the Alliance days. That wasn’t fair to him. That train of thought landed somewhere darker, though.
If Seren got even a glimpse of the direction Ilfrid was headed, then the clock was already ticking. There can’t be a network of cities here, could there? No way. There’s only one UnderSpire, one Ramillion, and therefore, if even one shider was seen going east, to Verglas… it was over.
“Did you hear what I just said?”
Eres nodded unconvincingly.
Mudry chuckled.
“Oh, so you’re good with us hanging our enemies by their ankles in the book room freezer?” She smacked his arm. “I was seeing if you were paying attention! Ugh! How did you get through even a year in Kor Vinsánce?”
“Hey!” He shouted. They seem to know my entire history. Did my fata come here that often? “A lot on my mind, is all.”
“Hmm. Well, here we are!” She presented his room, face gleaming with pride.
Mudry nodded in appreciation.
Eres looked last. It was pretty cool. The gate was open - a picket fence made of pointed icicles - but when he touched it, much like the floor it wasn’t cold at all.
“I still don’t get it…” He analyzed his hand, expecting it to be wet and red with coldness.
“The ice is crystalized with preserving porum gel. That’s how we build everything around here.”
“Is how I sc-” Mudry began before Kyta’s hand reached up and clapped over his mouth.
Eres glared at them with suspicion. “Keeping secrets, are we?”
“It’s a surprise!” She pointed ahead. “Go on, check it out.”
He shrugged and walked in, dropping his bag haphazardly while looking up in wonder. Speechless. A spire of his own, the ceiling of which stretched high into a point. Then he traced the walls, analyzing the cool designs etched into them, all the way down to the cozy setup of a shallowly risen bed, short dresser and a nightlight. It was tent-like, as though he were camping in the midst of some journey. Well he was, and this gift hit its mark. It made him feel at home in the strangest way.
Kyta’s smile was now ear-to-ear, her hands clasped tightly together. She was pleased with his reaction, giddy even.
“There’s electricity here? How?”
Her expression darkened a bit. “Do you know how long we worked to pre-”
Now Mudry clapped a hand over her mouth.
She flailed to break free. “Three days me and Mudry decorated for you… and… and you ask about how the lamp works?”
Eres was giggling now. “I guess you thought I was Ramillion’s size, hm?”
Kyta’s skin turned as close to scarlet as it would permit. She was trying to hold back a smirk, for sure, but was half taken aback as well.
Eres laughed a little harder. “You guys are clowns. The room is lovely, and I am grateful.” He bowed, thinking back to the manners his ooma had taught him for when he was meant to be released into the world. This room brought him back too. It had a familiar charm, where great care was taken. He could envision Kyta taking a step back when done and appreciating all the work it took to dress it, the same way as he could picture his ooma doing the same.
His heart warmed a little in that instant, and against his entire personality, he walked over and hugged them into a huddle. “In retrospect, your little play was funny. I could’ve killed you at the time, though.” He pulled back with a smile of his own. “Now if you’d please, I’d like to sleep so I can see my surprise in the morning.”
Before this, he never once appreciated ambiance - the way a place, the people in it, and the combination of it all could make him feel. But here, he did.
“If you see Ramillion, tell him I’m sorry. I was just on edge.”
Kyta sniffled. “You can tell him yourself when he decides to grace us again. Sleep tight, Mr. Fun.”
Mudry was waving as they both left Eres to his new quarters, shutting the gate for him that oddly shut out the noise of people walking around outside.
He exhaled, thinking back to the day’s events, and then tossed himself onto the bed, hoping in mid-air that the mattress wasn’t made of solid ice, or porum encased ice or whatever. But he bounced, released his tense jaw and clasped hands behind head.
I kinda see why my fata liked to visit here so often. It seems… nice.
He looked at his finger, considering taking his normal trip into Gushda, but that night he figured Rudo had provided enough. And so he relaxed to the point where sleep could calmly claim him.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Eres rolled away from the noise, pulling the covers over his head.
Knock. Kn-knock knock. Knock.
This time he mumbled something he was sure was Universal in his head, but it came out as a groan.
“Is morning Eres! Morning!” Mudry’s muffled voice came through the door.
The knocks came in as a drumroll now - Kyta was probably annoyed.
“Ughhh, whatttt?”
Kyta cleared her throat loudly. “May we enter? Are you decent?”
“Would it matter? You already know I’m a Dawn.” Eres sat up, rubbing one bloodshot eye.
She gasped. “No, we certainly did not.”
“Ha, ha. Come in, I guess.”
Before he could even finish, the door was pushed open and in came Kyta like a kid on Christmas, nearly skipping up to his bed, sticking her face into his personal space way too early in the day.
He leaned back like some foul scent just wafted into his face.
“Goood morning!” The mousy Dagos rubbed his head before pulling his arm and forcing him out of bed.
“Morning, Mr. Fun! Surprise ready. Hope like.” Mudry strutted into the room.
Eres looked like a baby learning how to walk for the first time, or forced to, rather. His eyes were squinted, hair shaped funny from sleeping on it. He hadn’t felt this groggy since he slept home in Dolseir. That was a good thing, right? Oversleeping for once.
“Time is it?”
Almost suns rise.
“What!” Eres tugged back, trying to go the opposite way back to bed.
“No, c’mon. Mudry’s excited!”
They hastened past the main hall he was introduced to just hours before, then zipped down some alleyway. Eres knew it was a winding path because he was dizzy, forcing him to open his eyes fully. “Ugh,” he said again, losing steam, but Mudry rested two hands on his back to push him along.
“Hope like,” Mudry repeated.
Eres looked over his shoulder, then ahead. He was walking on his own now, starting to wake up, noticing this pathway was a deeper blue than the main hall – less bright, more mysterious - but it still had a shine like a crystal cave in the arctic.
“Almost there, c’mon,” her voice was light, “c’mon.”
Eres looked down to his sleeves, then to his boots. He’d slept fully clothed. Oof. I must’ve been tired. He noticed they stopped moving before he blinked and looked up. His heart started to race, jolting him awake. Lips parted. Stunned. He glanced over to Kyta and up to Mudry.
“How?”
It was a sculpture of his father kneeling down to Eres in the first cave he’d visited after receiving his esper, within his esper, in Gushda. How could someone capture the most personal message he’d ever been delivered in another world?
Soon, however, the questions faded for the time being and the memory took over. This was right after Agden had sacrificed himself for the cause, for him, Eres. It was poetic, and he k
new it was that moment because he remembered it so vividly - his father tracing his eyes to Eres’ height, and then looking past him, further up, hoping that Eres would have been older when he’d arrived there, that they’d get to spend more time together before his days were up.
He began to tear up. It was so intricate, so finely detailed, and it captured the very moment that hurt him most - his father looking over his head, like he was blind.
“How?” he said again, more firmly this time.
They said nothing for a moment to let it sink in.
“Ramillion?”
“No, Eres.” Kyta called him by his actual name. “Mudry.”
Eres turned to Mudry, hardly able to take his eyes off the work. He wiped a tear from his cheek. “The art is one thing, Mudry, it’s incredible. You’re incredible. But-”
“He has a gift.” Kyta smiled. “An eye into Gushda, to that person’s memories, just by touching them.”
Eres suddenly thought back to when Mudry clapped his back, skin on skin, when one of his fingers reached his neck. “In Ramillion’s quarters? But-”
“Is good? Why cry? Thought do good. Uh-oh.”
“Mudry, this is…”
“Emotion so much intense when this memory come up. Knew it special, so I sculpt. Kyta help, always help. We hope like! No offend, hope.” Mudry began to get nervous, scratching at his own fingers, stepping on his own foot.
Eres shook his head and then embraced him. “Thank you.”
Mudry deflated like a balloon, all the tension leaving him when he took the hug as “like.”
“Wait,” Eres broke away, “you did all of this in one night?” he looked between them, noticing now that behind their smiles, their eyes were tired. “You didn’t have t-”
“We wanted to, Eres, to welcome you properly to the UnderSpire.”
Eres knew he could use his esper at any time to visit this memory, he knew exactly where to swim to get there, but to share it here, in Rudo, with others that he’d just met, meant something else entirely. He didn’t have to be so alone…
“I have so many questions.”
