Taní kept ahead of Lavisa as they traversed the infinite depths of the second floor. The place bore a striking resemblance to the first, the tired orange glow shifting ever so slightly. If he neared a building, it burned red. If he distanced himself, it dimmed yellow, the gutturing illusion a too-tall flickering flame.


    Once—after Jaster’s dogged persistence—they even entered one of the various buildings. Inside, blocks of hazy light plastered the walls. Portraits. The same in the school. Some depicted natural landscapes, others the twinkling scales, but it was the drake at the back of the room that demanded his attention. Its body aglow in the suffocating darkness that threatened to devour it.


    He’s only ever heard tales of those fortunate enough to near the wraiths. It didn’t “run,” but it did bleed into the depths which it occupied. Because of their introverted nature, most paintings illustrated them from a distance, as that was the best glance an artist could steal for reference. Certain myths claimed they were the spawn of the Desolator, though they didn’t wreak havoc as a dragon would.


    No, they only ever observed; their listless gazes burning through the thicket of nature’s wonder.


    The Déqoish believed them to be realm wanderers. Things that lived anywhere and everywhere in Vale?o. Danza loved to allude that they followed the will of a "greater mind." Taní had no such luck encountering their kind in the wild, however. He doubted they even existed, but an old Déqoish was saying that prevented him from completely buying into said disbelief was, “One can’t ever be around without a drake stalking you.”


    A drake watching without his knowledge… Just thinking about it left him shivering. He had this creeping, burning feeling on his neck whenever someone stared at him, but he was a Grazer. They could’ve watched him every night, and he’d be none the wiser.


    Taní, eventually, ripped his gaze away from the lifelike image. Relics crafted out of a chilling non-metal senselessly decorated the room, but aside from a set of silvery statues that bore an uncanny resemblance to the watchers in the antechamber, there wasn’t much to be found. Just a hall that branched off into two empty rooms and a flight of stairs.


    If this truly was a tomb city, then why had the Ses?o gone through the trouble of preparing furniture they would never use? Wouldn’t the space suffice? He knew Dhasderinn—their chief god—was demanding, but all of this? It seemed excessive.


    Upon exiting the building, a resounding rumble graced the air. The door slammed shut behind Taní, its deafening crash adding to the heavenly cacophony. Just as quickly as it had come, it faded, replaced by a distant set of clicks and groans. Like an invisible cog winding through the air.


    Taní strained his ears to catch an echo of noise, but nothing ever came. Odd.


    They passed a mound of rubble decorating the center of the street, then turned, and turned, and turned some more as they explored every inch of the second floor. Unlike the first, they couldn’t sweep through the place.


    How bloody exhausting. The streets never seemed to end. Only introducing another uninspired avenue strewn with mounds of shivering debris. Buildings grew, and others stretched toward the horizon. Their stringy shapes were undulated like a false flame. Stiff fingers seeking to cradle the light. A Wish beyond their ken.


    Wait…


    “Hey guys,” Taní said aloud.


    Lavisa stopped. “Yes?”


    “Isn’t this kinda…samey?”


    “Like any town would be,” Jaster said, completely disinterested. Even a little bored.


    “Yeah, but like this?”


    Jaster turned to him, appearing somewhat confused. “Once you’ve seen one building, you’ve seen them all.”


    Taní glanced at the mound of shivering rubble lying on the street. The collection sat skewed. Not scattered, but off-center. As if someone had brushed it aside.


    “Then what about that? Why’s that everywhere?” Taní pointed to the debris.


    Jaster arched a brow. “Because it’s a ruin?”


    Lavisa’s lips remained a neutral line as she listened to their back and forth, but no matter what Taní argued, Jaster had a sound explanation prepared. Some buildings were in sadder shape than others.


    After a small lull in their exchange, Lavisa spoke. “Tan?o?”


    “Yes?”


    “Should we return you to the surface? All this stale air doesn’t seem to be doing you any favors.”


    Taní shot her a flat stare. “I’m fine. C’mon, you can’t be serious and tell me this place isn’t samey.”


    Lavisa gave her surroundings a sweeping scan, then shook her head. “It’s not.”


    “Good blood… How does anyone find treasure down here?”


    “They don’t. It’s only during the routine field trip that the faculty hides treasures for the students to find.”


    “Like a scavenger hunt,” Jaster added.


    Lavisa lifted a finger. “Precisely. It helps engender exploration.”


    Taní sighed. “Okay, fine. Whatever. Guess I’m just imagining things.”


    They pressed forward, nearing yet another mound of rubble. Taní searched for ?zar, but no matter where he looked only buildings lay. Most started arching over the street like bridges, their slanted roofs meters from touching. How did the Ses?o build those?


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The shorter structures waned to a needle-thin point, looping with the arches to reduce the area into a makeshift tunnel that only ever revealed the slim light of the faux moon. Jaster reached into his Blood-Loader and, retrieving a green stone from his pouch, cracked it upon his knee. Light flooded from the rent crystal, bathing the room in a comforting glow. Brightstone.


    Taní cried ?zar’s name, his voice echoing down the tunnel like a ghastly breeze. Nothing. Again, he called, with Jaster joining him. And again, there was nothing.


    His eyes fell to the earth in defeat, but instead of releasing the pent-up sigh desperate for freedom in his lungs, he froze. The faux moon flashed and the ached tunnel unfurled into stringy towers.


    Taní spun around and broke into a sprint. Once he reached the end of the street, he peered down the innocuous path they had come from.


    What’s happening?


    Taní sped down their original path, hoping to find a single street that would differentiate itself, but it was more of the same. Sometimes higher, sometimes lower, but that rubble. That bloody rubble. It kept moving.


    Even glancing away from it caused it to shift.


    “Tan-Tan?” came a distant voice.


    Taní didn’t dare look back. The place would just move again. As if it were trying to…


    A chill ran up his spine. Were they trapped? If this was anything like a Fractist Maze, it wasn’t supposed to keep them trapped. It was supposed to make them think.


    Taní started down the road, but instead of making a left or a right, he stopped at the center, then spun around.


    There she was. Lavisa’s noble visage etched with concern, and though he wouldn''t have minded looking at her pretty face for a second longer, Jaster stepped in front of her.


    “Tan-Tan, you there?” The Nimmian waved.


    Taní blinked, a wave of nausea crashing into him. “Huh?”


    Jaster and Lavisa exchanged a concerned glance. When neither answered, Taní took a step back. A force snatched him from his spot, rendering him weightless as the faux moon accelerated into focus. Before he could utter a cry, the air escaped his lungs.


    His ears buzzed as the dull impact echoed in his skull, though worse than that was his inability to breathe. He gasped for air, but his lungs refused to obey.


    Taní wasn’t dying, but falling flat on his back in front of the princess of Corat?o? God, what a failure. He wanted to die if it meant not sitting up and seeing her laughing at him.


    Before Taní knew it, someone lifted him from his spot. A pair of arms. One more slender than the other.


    “You good?” the Nimmian asked with a whisper.


    Taní squeaked out something that sounded like a yes.


    Lavisa’s brow furrowed. “We should rest. Traversing a single floor is a great enough task, but two? Let’s not push ourselves.”


    “I’m—” Taní finally breathed. “Fine.”


    “You need rest."


    “No, I can—”


    Lavisa sat him upon a crude construct at the edge of the street. It looked like a metal bench, but more slanted. She sat beside him, inspecting his arms and back for potential injuries.


    The Nimmian joined them a second later, his eyes aimed at the rubble Taní had tripped over. It was back at the center.


    “Hey,” Taní called, “why is everything…well, why is it all back?”


    The Nimmian flashed him an odd look. “Back? What’re you talking about?”


    “Everything moved, but now it’s all back.”


    Three gloved fingers hovered before Taní’s face. Lavisa. “Tan?o, how many fingers am I holding up?”


    Taní grimaced. “I didn’t hit my head.”


    “You kinda did,” Jaster added, matter-of-factly.


    “Okay, I hit my head a little, but not enough to give me a concussion.”


    Lavisa’s gloved hand pressed closer to his face. “Tan?o. How. Many. Fingers. Am. I. Holding. Up.”


    Exasperated, Taní brushed her hand aside. “Good blood, you’re holding three! There! Now, can you stop waving them around like bait and explain what’s happening?”


    “How do you mean?”


    “We’ve been walking in circles for an hour. Don’t you remember? All the buildings started connecting, but you said I was imagining it.”


    Lavisa gave a slight inclination of her head. “I don’t recall.”


    Taní stared. “What? That’s the only thing I’ve been complaining about.”


    “You haven’t,” Jaster said.


    “What…? Are you serious? Haven’t you guys been paying att—”


    “Tan?o,” Lavisa calmly interjected, “you’ve yet to move.”


    “…Excuse me?”


    “After we left the building, we believed you to have wandered off, but when we returned…”


    Taní twisted around in his seat. There it was. The house Jaster had prodded them to investigate.


    The realization struck Taní like a gale-force wind. Their journey, the winding of his mind as the streets twisted but never truly bent…he’d imagined it?


    “S-Stop playing,” Taní stuttered, clinging to what remained of his anger. “Just tell me the truth.”


    Lavisa’s lips dipped. “What reason would we have to lie, Tan?o?”


    “You tell me! Everything moved, but you keep telling me it didn’t. And what do you do? You keep treating me like I’m a kid making things up!”


    Realization dawned on Lavisa’s delicate features. “You haven’t Awakened, have you?”


    “What? Of course, I have!”


    “No, you haven’t. If what you described is the truth—your perceived truth—then I know exactly what you’re suffering from.”


    Taní raked at the fabric of his pants. She didn''t understand a thing. Didn''t see it his way. He was a Juneac?o. That’s what Danza always told him no matter where they went or whatever the children said. If he didn''t believe, if he said anything that went against the carefully cultivated truth, then they’d lose all respect for him.


    They’d stop being his friends.


    That couldn’t happen. No matter what, he wouldn''t let it happen. He didn’t want to be alone again.


    He didn’t want them to leave, too.


    “I’m a Juneac?o,” Taní hissed with all the conviction he possessed. “Stop telling me I’m not. I’ve Awakened. I have. You don''t need to see it, but I have.”


    Lavisa held his gaze, her eyes narrowed. “Allow me to explain, regardless. You see, Tan?o, what you might suffer from is the dragon’s poison. An incantation of the Toem branch developed by D’Arcy Dragonfang. Those unshielded against ill-will suffer from complete paralysis, as well as audio, visual, and temporal hallucinations.”


    Taní peered at her incredulously. “Why is that a thing?”


    “To prevent grave robbing. Only a Juneac?o with an Awakened brand can traverse the locale without suffering adverse effects. In short, it addles you. Leaving those without a brand paralyzed until some outside force jostles them free.”


    Taní winced. He couldn’t even be down here without burdening them.


    Almost as if she could sense his thoughts, Lavisa stood. “Come, we should return before it’s late.”


    Jaster yawned. “Got a feeling in my bones it’s already past curfew.”


    “Which is exactly why we must leave. Let us away.”


    Before they could start, a reality-shattering rumble anchored Taní to the Firmament. The brilliant hues that had once painted the realm were reduced to a monochromatic madness. It was closer than before; deeper.


    And it called to him. No. To the Iteration greater than him.


    Taní craned his neck back, an icy, shaky breath sealing his throat. There, beyond the faux moon’s grasp, he glimpsed a writhing darkness blacker than all the nightmares in the world. And it trembled with a manic glee as if he were its sole, ever-promised treasure.


    The chill of Frostfall seeped into his veins, sprouting untold fables that flashed with searing agony. The warm Prism days. Their prison the device of a woman who had sought to delay the end. No, not delay. Overthrow it, and she had succeeded.


    An immense, bone-crushing mania poured from the eye. Hate, pain, anticipation, love, and nostalgia. Each unspoken word was more deafening than the dying screams of a star. And it yearned to be at his side again. If only to right the wrongs of the world. Not simply those that had maimed them, but all of creation.


    But it wasn’t real. Taní knew it wasn’t. And so, he broke forward. Clinging to the fragile notion that the darkness was a product of the Dragon’s Poison.


    The streets blurred into a kaleidoscopic streak of sunset hues. He ignored the voice, ignored the prying darkness, and ran on instinct. Hoping something could remove him from His presence. And there, lying broken beneath the shade of a crumbling house, was ?zar’s mangled body.


    The teetering wheeze of a soundless voice nipping at his shoulders.