The heavenly blue light dimmed as they zipped towards the abyss, their swift descent accompanied not by the whistling wind, but by the steady droning of a mechanism that kept their lift afloat. It granted them the comfort of a steady step, but to Lavisa, it was a reassurance that the darkness below wouldn’t devour them. Not like that hateful mass of scales too dark to light the Solanarium.


    She immediately extinguished that line of thought. Nightmares would prove a fatal bane down here. The rumination was in dire need of correction. So, she turned her undivided attention to the dwelling.


    The locale’s peculiar sun-colored architecture looped skywards, scaling the unsurmountable that even now bent towards the faux moonlight. Ripples of heat radiated from the vast presence, painting translucent waves that crashed against the liminal boundaries of its enclosed sky box. She peered at the scenery, uncovering not ocean, but a cascading tide of shifting thoughts, faces, and acts. Their every echo a fragment lost to time.


    She caught wisps of a vow. One she’d heard the other year during her first exploratory dive; one which chased her into the dark of her dreams. Then an echo. The Thoughtless One. That which he adored. The one he believed to be the sole redeeming quality of his life.


    Her detachment, embodied in that festering, velvet-laced tone of hers, reminded Lavisa that obsession superseded boundaries. Love. Promises… Theirs would be secondary to what the heart desired. And hers had always belonged to discovery. To the pursuit of a greater truth, and she had exposed it.


    Lavisa’s brow furrowed. Exposed. One could not expose a greater truth that had never existed. Her fervent chase had misguided her into recreating said artificiality. Just as their Creators had eons ago. And it had left them with this. Or so Lavisa interpreted her will as such. It was all so blurry in her mind. Years of dreaming her dreams had led to lukewarm inference at best.


    As for what she deduced, she could not say with absolute certainty. That man and woman, however, were at the center of it all. The one that could not care for any except her, and the one that could not care because she never had a reason to. Because no one could capture her fancy.


    He—that man who could only ever smile once imprisoned in that Prism greater than the moon—came to her attention when she no longer had a goal to pursue. When her life''s work had inadvertently doomed them all. And she only loved him because he would not shun her.


    Could that ever be justified as true love? Could trapping them in a shell within a shell, detached yet reiterating ceaselessly be described as a mercy? As true immortality? She wondered...


    Lavisa banished the thought from her mind. No, a nightmare was only that: a nightmare. Pondering the matter wouldn’t do her any favors. They were figments of her imagination. If what Fractism claimed was true, then perhaps they were long-forgotten Wishes of their previous Iterations. Longing for a restoration of the old ways.


    Her hands drifted to the cool railing, his timeless, phantom breath gracing the silence. It was soft, tired. He barely ever slept. Maybe that blacker-than-night shade was to blame. The only thing capable of conjuring his ire.


    And his only friend, despite its calculated madness.


    Lavisa squeezed the railing. No. She needed to focus. That way, she could do away with the needless distractions.


    A?el knew best. That’s why he endeavored to distract her with small work.


    Tan?o’s and Jaster’s bubbling voices transformed the otherwise boring descent into an entertaining affair. They discussed recent projects, food, and, strangely enough, the roof again. Why did they always mention the bloody roof?


    The exchange, as she expected, terminated at the location of interest. Though the school dubbed it the labyrinth, the place didn’t truly resemble a maze. A twisting city that rose and fell at odd intervals, yes, but not a maze. From here, she spotted the semi-transparent glass dusted with chalk. Sheerstone. The same material used in the creation of Juneac?o phials and jugs of milk. Just thinking about the enriched milk left her parched. The mineral wasn''t native to the subterranean depths, but large deposits tended to be found near or in Ses?o Tomb Cities.


    A?el once claimed it the doing of late Juneac?o. That their "residual Presence" wasn''t efficiently cycled into their next Iteration much like the common rabble. His reasoning? A Juneac?o''s very being was partially distilled with the thrumming pulse of Sedd. Their mother''s gift. This gift had the unintentional consequence of quartering. A permanent reduction of the totality of their person, or something equally as ludicrous. It didn''t happen in every life, as she had initially panicked at the ripe age of nine (enough to get him in trouble after she started wailing after her mind equated being 25% less of a person as dead). His esoteric insight on the matter succinctly detailed his answer as thus: When people made pacts with Tygenna, they were binding. Not because she wished to arrest them to their oaths, but because the power she invoked to bless them was so far beyond her ability that it took most of her will just to stitch them back together.


    And she had to do this to everyone. It was an act of sacrifice; of love. Growing up, it had served as the perfect answer for why so few people were blessed with Sedd.


    Because she was afraid of hurting them. That something so powerful, just one step short of God, still had her limits.


    Lavisa’s hand drifted to her left hip. Yes, there it was. Her Blood-Loader.


    The first floor posed no real threat but beyond that? One couldn’t be too cautious.


    Though she would’ve preferred the reassuring presence of her Towerblade, she also realized that lugging a weapon nearly twice her size through the halls wasn’t the wisest idea. Especially in broad daylight on a Fifthsday. Despite her influence, she couldn’t prevent her teachers from reporting back to her father. Best to play it safe.


    “Sir Fernbank,” Lavisa began, her tone cool and controlled, “did your informant tell you of ?zar’s exact whereabouts?”


    The Nimmian shrugged. “Just said he was around the second floor.”


    “And you didn’t bother asking for details?”


    “I tried, but the guy wanted SG in exchange. I’m not Tan-Tan.”


    Tan?o made a face.


    Lavisa cocked a brow. “How much were they changing?”


    “Around two-hundred SG.”


    “Excuse me?”


    “Dragons know things.” Jaster leaned against the railing. “Buncha treasure-hoarding lizards, though. Not easy extracting information with a pretty smile. Even one as good as yours.”


    Lavisa stared. Why would a Housemate charge him for simple information? Didn’t they have honor? Juneac?o’s aided one another, not extorted!


    Though her knowledge regarding the other Houses was slim, Vlasalisk operated under a code of honor. Distorted as they were to accommodate a school environment, they inspired awe and loyalty. What more could a Juneac?o ask for?


    The platform came to a steady stop as they terminated at the labyrinth’s base. Tan?o hopped out, his eyes on the winding structures shielding them from the faux moonlight. From the top of the staircase, they appeared no bigger than her pinky finger, but now? They dwarfed the watchtowers strewn across Corat?o’s sweeping countryside.


    Lavisa listened to the hum of the dim structures. The buzz of glittering, living fragments littered the floor, and those statues! Silvery rent icons that depicted a bird in flight. Unlike the ones in the academy, these were simple, everyday figures. Not an instantaneous method of transport. If they owed the labyrinth’s creation to the Ses?o, as the academy often claimed, were these statues directly inspired by those of the sky castles, or was their creation purely coincidental? Just a statue that bore an uncanny resemblance to that of their transmitters.


    Tan?o and Jaster kept forward, twisting and turning to catch a better glimpse of a deformed building that arched overhead like some sort of bridge. Lavisa thought them cute as they “oohed” and “awed” at the architecture’s foreign splendor.


    Most first-years spent a portion of their first three months learning about the labyrinth before ever receiving a chance to explore it. The trip itself wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, though being somewhere new was exciting in its own right.


    One could find anything down here. Treasure, secrets, danger. Perhaps even all three. She only wondered just how many of these secrets the founders had left behind. When the first-years refused to take another step, Lavisa stepped forward. Guiding them as best she could. The winding path to the second floor, however, annoyed her. As great of a deterrent as it was, they could’ve at least made it more convenient for divers.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    “Lavisa,” Tan?o whispered, “you know where to go, right?”


    “You’ve no need to fear, Tan?o. I’m more than familiar with the labyrinth.”


    “Oh, right. I forgot you’ve probably already been here before…”


    They passed several excavated zones decorated with markers, candles, and man-made tools. Piles of dim, sun-hewn rubble wobbled atop the tables. Attracted, yet incapable of forming a cohesive whole as its siblings did. Despite the two-hundred-year-old discovery, scholars had yet to attach a logical explanation behind its animation. Perhaps it had none; perhaps it bore no presence.


    As old and dusty as the site was, there was a certain charm when excavation was active.


    Lavisa only hoped that they didn’t pass any divers. If she were anyone else, then she wouldn’t have minded sneaking down, but her? The princess of Corat?o? That was bound to attract unwanted attention. They’d notice. If not for her eyes, then certainly her hair. There weren’t many Anglers in the school.


    Perhaps I should’ve worn a shawl.


    Something brushed against Lavisa’s hand, and when she looked, she found Tan?o pressed against her. His curious orange-green eyes fixed on a distant set of ruins. Looking at him now, she could tell that he was small for his age, but those scarred hands? A sign of experience. The tested facade of Juneac?o.


    Then again, slamming one’s head against a wall was sign enough.


    Lavisa’s first instinct was to demand he remove himself from her side, but she couldn’t work up the courage. Something told her it wasn’t right. Perhaps it was because of his injury, or perhaps she was afraid of dispelling this wondrous moment from his mind. Whatever the case, she allowed him to remain.


    “Hey, Lavisa. Did people used to live here?” Tan?o asked.


    She glanced at the faux moon. “Though several signs point to human habitation, remains have yet to be found.”


    “Remains? As in…”


    “Yes. Human remains.”


    Tan?o turned to her, realized how close they were, and then took a giant step sideways. His eyes aimed elsewhere. “T-That’s good, right? Means no one died here when the castle crashed.”


    “Perhaps, but one can argue that the residents of the city had made their escape into the subterranean levels,” Lavisa explained, fighting back an amused giggle.


    “Have any bodies been found there, or…”


    “No. This site is more than likely a Ses?o tomb city given its architecture. If there were corpses, then the crash landing would’ve destroyed the burial mound long ago.”


    “Tomb city? Never been to one before, but aren’t they…well, smaller? More spirally And less deep? Heard they go down, but from the way you put it, it sounds like there’s more than three floors.”


    Lavisa explained that the total number of levels had yet to be uncovered. The first ten floors, though charted, boasted only fragmented illustrations of its layout. Beyond those, no one knew. The beasts didn’t make it easy for divers to map it out. Spawns of the Desolator, as the legends claimed.


    Tan?o turned to Jaster and discussed what he learned. The Nimmian fed him what he knew of the labyrinth, which wasn’t much to begin with. A place as old as this—or perhaps it would be more specific to say tomb cities in general—claimed only one destiny: To be forgotten. Magnificent as they were.


    Had the Ses?o wanted it that way? She knew they constructed these monuments to gain favor from their chief god, but why did they leave them empty? Yes, their greatest warriors received the honor of entombment atop their chasm-of-a-city, but why wage a continent-spanning invasion for a hole?


    They enjoyed dumping their deceased in that long, lost sea towards the west. A realm that even the mire lurkers of legend feared to tread. This was, as A?el loved to lilt, an artificial afterlife.


    After a small lull in their exchange, Tan?o turned to Lavisa with a hesitant smile. “Hey, mind if I ask something?”


    Lavisa dipped her head. “You may.”


    “You don’t mind going this far, right?”


    “I feel as if it’s a bit late for you to ask that.”


    “But…why?”


    Lavisa glanced at his forehead, then returned her attention to the road. When she spoke, she aimed for neutrality. “I’m curious, that’s all.”


    “About ?zar? Didn’t know you were acquainted,” Tan?o remarked


    “Though I’ve crossed blades with him before, I’m ashamed to admit I’ve yet to receive the honor of familiarizing myself with him. Not that his sister would allow it.”


    “Sticking your goose out for a guy you don''t even know? I get that you’re curious, but I don’t feel like that’s a good enough reason. Not any better than Jaster, anyway.”


    “I need no reason to aid a fellow Juneac?o, Tan?o. I’d do my best to remember that if I were you.”


    Tan?o blinked. For a brief, hair-raising moment, Lavisa wondered if she had overstepped her boundaries, but what she received wasn’t a glare. It was a small, relieved grin.


    “Do you know anything else about him?” inquired Tan?o.


    “You’re a member of his House, are you not? You should know more than I,” Lavisa reminded him.


    “Yeah, but you’ve been here longer. You must’ve seen things.”


    Lavisa rolled her head to the side. She recalled his fresh, second-year eyes. Not those of the sleep-deprived third-year. The way he''d eagerly accept any challenge issued to him, how he often pushed his clingy sister away, and how he brandished that victorious smirk with supreme ease. Though his scholarly intelligence left much to be desired, he was an uncontested powerhouse in dueling. It’s what made Canela’s pleas for affection all the more…well, sad. She wanted to be with him—talk to him—but all he did was act like she didn’t exist. Treating her like she was a burden at the best of times.


    Then again, the treasurer was—in Lavisa’s opinion—an odd bird that preferred the taste of her own blood.


    Bitter-sweet as it may be.


    “He’s…a man of odd tastes. Perhaps said tastes influenced by a voice not his own.” Lavisa paused, gathering her bearings. “Though legal given their partial relation and status as Juneac?o, it is nonetheless…disconcerting.” She shook her head. “I pray her fascination with him is nothing more than a phase.”


    Tan?o grimaced. “Let’s not talk about Canela, please.”


    “Believe it or not, there was a time when ?zar wasn’t so timid. Think Innes, though significantly more tolerable. If tolerable is you preferring to be harassed with a plank of wood rather than an iron rod.”


    “Really? He doesn’t really strike me as the type of guy.”


    “The ?zar you know is naught but a shadow of his former self, Tan?o,” Lavisa stated. “Try as we might to remain unaltered, we aren’t meant to endure. ?zar’s demeanor is a result of his failure. Nothing more, nothing less.”


    Tan?o frowned. “That’s pretty heartless, La.”


    “I—" Lavisa blinked. “What did you call me?”


    “Oh, uh…sorry. That sorta slipped. Continue, please.”


    “Very well. ?zar—for all his timidity—was once an unabashed, conceited top student. A position held by no more than nine people at a time. How one achieves this position varies. Most, however, earn it through a combination of physical, Sedd, and academic excellence. ?zar acquired the honor with his unparalleled application of Sedd, and so received the rare opportunity to do what most his age only dream of: Undergo the trials of champions.”


    “Wait, really? A Fadenician?" The words tumbled from Tan?o''s lips in disbelief. Then, after a needed pause to digest the information, he asked for clarification. "I’m...assuming that’s the test House champions go through to qualify for the position?”


    “Correct. Champions primarily consist of fourth- to fifth-year students. Their experience and grown bodies are to thank.” Lavisa brushed a stray strand back into place, then continued. “Rarely do third-years show the potential to surpass their older contemporaries, though it isn’t unheard of. Only rare. ?zar, however, was the only second-year to have shown this potential. But then…”


    Tan?o leaned in and whispered, “Then what?”


    “…No. It is not my place to share.”


    “What! You can’t just say that after leading me on! That’s just cruel, La.”


    Lavisa sighed. She had been hoping he’d heard snippets of ?zar’s tale from his Housemates, but that didn’t seem to be the case.


    Uncertain of how else to avoid it, Lavisa relented. “There was…an incident during the last trial. The great hunt.” She folded her arms, hoping it would dispel her initial discomfort. It didn’t. “Candidates are sent to the depths of the sixth level. What are they to do, you ask? Simple: They’re to slay a beast and return with a trophy. ?zar claimed his trophy not long after, but instead of being met with a congratulatory cry, he heard a scream. It was his sister. She had—unbeknownst to the judges—slipped into the labyrinth. All so that she could guarantee his safety. Or so she claims.”


    “And then?” Tan?o pressed.


    “?zar located Canela before the beasts fell upon her. It’s thanks to his swift action that she remains in our waking realm.” Lavisa lowered her head, her voice falling to a dark whisper. “But her cry…it only attracted more beasts. Were it not for the judges, they would’ve perished. Even then…” She grunted. “The wounds ?zar suffered in her defense had nearly taken the use of his legs.”


    “So he passed, right? He got the trophy, protected his sister, fought off monsters, and made it back alive. Yeah, he almost his legs, but who doesn’t? Shouldn’t he be House champion?” Tan?o asked.


    “No. ?zar lost the right the moment his sister set foot on the premises. Although he wasn’t aware of it, Canela’s statement had given them the impression that she had manipulated the odds in his favor. It not only resulted in his immediate failure but also a House-wide ban that prevented ?zar from ever taking the trial again. Even if he were to switch to Dragonfang or Vlasalisk.”


    Tan?o’s eyes fell. He looked… Defeated. Or perhaps dejected? Whatever it was, she didn’t like that look. Not one bit, but there wasn’t anything she could do to change that.


    “I didn’t know you could be banned from doing a test. Even among the Houses,” Tan?o murmured to himself.


    “Rules exist for a reason,” Lavisa said. “Don’t ever forget that. No quarter must be given should they be violated. ?zar, despite his talent, has proven untrustworthy. Thus, losing the ability to claim the title. He deserves naught but the ire he’s engendered for his crimes.”


    “But…he just lost. That doesn’t mean they should shun him like a paranoid sailor.”


    “He cheated. That is all they must know, and that is all they need to hate him.”


    Tan?o straightened, fists balled at his sides. “But it wasn’t even his fault. How can you just say that like it’s nothing? And what about Fadénix, huh? Are you going to say they accept him because he’s bad luck too? That the only reason they don’t mind him is because they’re just like him?"


    “He is their burden to shoulder, Tan?o,” Lavisa answered, meeting his eyes with even steel. “Not Vlasalisk’s nor Dragonfang’s. He is Fadénix’s shame, and so he shall burden them, and only them.”


    Tan?o’s eyes flashed with outrage. “Don’t call him that! You can’t just call someone a burden. It wasn’t even his fault. I know it wasn’t. He isn’t the type of person to cheat. No matter what anyone else says, and you should know that if he''s half as talented as you say he is."


    “It matters not what sort of individual he strikes you as, Tan?o. What’s done is done. He’s paid for his crime, and so he must live with that.” Lavisa held his gaze, and though she knew he would be the first to break, averted hers. Her voice dropped suit. “He would’ve made for a fine champion, you know? Perhaps the greatest of our generation. I do not doubt that. Not for one moment."


    “...Then why do you sound like you don’t even care?”


    “Because he must live with that, and so must you.”


    Tan?o gaped at her. She didn’t pay it any mind, though. He’d get over it. Working herself up for an old ban would do nothing. If this was fate, then so be it. They could only work with what they had. And that cheater had nothing.


    After Tan?o had ample time to recover, he managed a stuttering response. “M-My House… Fadénix. No one ever talks about— I mean, they don’t ever bring it up. Why?”


    Lavisa wasted no effort thinking up a response. It simply came to her. “Shame is a foul replacement for normalcy. It’s best to be buried while fresh.”