Ezra decided to go. After eight weeks of letting the same thought stew in his mind, it was time to see his father. He pulled up his jeans and put on a linen shirt. It felt nice to be back in his clothes. After thanking the nurse, listening to the doctor drone on about how he shouldn’t push himself, and signing a few papers, he was on his way.

Darian wanted him back to work the day he got out. The supervisor hadn’t stopped complaining about the payout for his treatments, but thankfully, Owen negotiated to get him half a day off. Ezra was sure Darian would find some way to make his life miserable, but for now, he would enjoy his hard-won freedom.

Switchbacks that cut through stone characterized the residential district. Looking up the hill, he could already feel his thighs burning from the climb. His father’s house only lay halfway up, but the elevation change was staggering. Slatted roofs and patchwork metal walls lined the sides of the path. In some places, rusted holes dotted houses as if ready to expand and swallow the whole structure. The district remained quiet except for the aching of the mountainous walls, stretching into the sky like the entire weight of the inverted abyss was pressing down. Everyone was likely at work or the market district. How his father skirted the zoning laws to build a shop here was a mystery.

The red sign glowed dimly above and a door that didn’t match the rest of the exterior stared back at him. He took a deep breath before turning the knob. A man with graying hair sticking on its ends and round glasses sat at a long bench with a soldering iron in one hand and a circuit board in the other—a sight that didn’t surprise Ezra in the slightest. A hum of electricity flowed throughout the room, but it was only white noise to him at this point. His father still hadn’t looked up.

“Hellooo,” Ezra said, trying to keep his tone as casual as possible.

“Come in,” his father called back.

“It's me, Ezra. Your son,” he said, sharpening the last words and hoping they would sting.

He stared up wide-eyed, and the soldering iron hit the table with a loud thump. “It . . . It’s good to see you. I heard about your accident. I’m glad everything is alright. It is. Right?”

“It is. You would have known if you came to visit me.”

“You know, with the shop and everything, I…”

“I know,” Ezra sighed and plopped down in one of the velvet waiting chairs. He should have known this was how the conversation would go. It was never any different. “They opened up applications to become sky-seekers. I’m going to apply.”

“Great, I wish you luck.” He was already back to work on the circuit.

The knots in his stomach twisted tighter. “No, ‘please don’t apply, I’m concerned for your safety,’ or ‘do you know how dangerous it is to be a sky-seeker’? Because I know you know how dangerous it is. Mom went twenty years ago. I barely remember it, but you do.” He clamped his mouth shut, but his anger boiled over. “You don’t even care, do you? I bet you didn’t care when Mom left either.”

He set his equipment down, removed his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose. The wrinkles on his face seemed deeper than usual. “I did care, Ezra, but at a certain point, you can’t keep drowning in the past. It’s your life, not mine. You’re twenty-five. If you want to become a sky-seeker, go ahead. Maybe you’ll find Elizabeth.” He blew out a puff of air as if expelling memories. “I can’t keep caring about a woman who loved adventure more than me.”

“Well, I came to say goodbye. Thought I owed you that much.” He pushed himself off the chair and headed for the door. As he reached for the doorknob, his father’s voice passed through the air.

“Be careful.”

Ezra’s lips quivered, and he shut the door behind him.

If he started now, he could make it to work with fifteen minutes to spare. White Rock’s center of employment lay down the hill and a few minutes behind the hospital he had stayed at. The building was dark gray with white pillars lining the sides. Only a few windows marked its walls, and the roof was completely flat. Overall, it was an enormously boring building.

The plain exterior matched the inside. A long desk curved in front of the door and standing there was Darian. Despite Ezra’s eagerness, as soon as he locked eyes with Darian, the man stared at him like prey.

“Glad you're back. Hope your recovery went well.” Darian extended a hand and forced a smile.

“It did.” Ezra tried to hide the pain as Darian squeezed for dominance in the handshake. “I’ve heard it’s been busy.”

“Yes. Especially after that vibro-crystal find. Did anyone tell you we found another deposit?”

Ezra raised his eyebrows. Where is he going with this? “No, they haven’t”

“Hey, Ezra, glad to see you back.” Owen rounded the corner and slowed his stride as soon as he saw Darian.

“Ah, what convenient timing. I have an assignment for you and Ezra.” Darian scooped a pile of papers off the desk. “Due to how busy we’ve been, we have missed our shipment to lighthouse three. I’m afraid it’s come to the point where we can put it off no longer. You two have never made the journey, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He thrust the papers in front of Ezra, giving him no choice but to take them. “I expect the delivery done by the end of the day.”

He gazed down at the papers as Darian left him and Owen. One page contained an inventory of the cargo they would carry, and others had printed maps detailing the route. “Looking at this, it would normally take a full day, but he’s wanting us to do it half that,” Ezra said.

“It’s his form of revenge. With how much he complained while you were gone, it was only inevitable. Let's go get our supplies.”

Owen led him to the back of the building where a cart of black stone and four backpacks waited. A metal latch closed the top of each cylindrical pack, and several bands with buckles hung off the shoulder straps. They initially looked small until Owen held one up. The weight at the bottom stretched the whole backpack out. Ezra held the first one open as Owen loaded it with Decrite. As he felt the material in his hands, he noticed it had a rubbery texture.

“How do you think they get energy from this stuff?” Ezra shook the bag to let the Decrite settle.

“Some sort of compression and combustion process. With just a little force, these stones become a viscous liquid. Did you know the explosive team is never called to mine this stuff?”

“Why’s that?”

“If you hit Decrite hard and fast, say with an explosion, the whole thing gets harder than diamond. Really interesting stuff.” Owen shoveled the last scoop into the bag.

“Yeah, but why does it have to be so heavy?” Ezra said as he hoisted the pack onto his back.

They filled another backpack with various supplies and were on their way. As Ezra left the loading area, he saw Milo leaning against the front of the building, one foot on the wall. He pushed off with his heel. “Hey, I’ve been looking for you. What’s with the backpack?”

Ezra shifted the straps on his shoulders. It felt like the bag was crushing him. “Darian asked us to make a delivery to lighthouse three.” He took deep breaths as the straps dug into his shoulders. “We probably won’t be back till late midnight.”

Milo leaned down to mimic Ezra’s hunched body. “Looks a little heavy.”

“You think so?” Ezra grunted.

“Mind if I tag along? Darian doesn’t need to know. I feel like I haven’t gotten a break ever since we found that second deposit of vibro-crystals.”

He couldn’t hold it any longer. The straps slid off Ezra’s shoulders, and the backpack hit the ground with a dull thud. “Grab another pack back there. We’ll distribute the load between the two of us.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Milo rushed past Owen, nearly running into him. “What’s going on?” Owen asked.

“Milo’s tagging along.” Ezra felt like he could finally take a breath as he slumped against the lumpy bag. “You got the rest of the supplies?”

Owen pat his sack, which looked small in comparison. “Yep.”

Milo ran around the corner with a bag flopping in his hands. Thrusting it open, he and Ezra quickly got to work evening the load between them. After that, they were on their way.

The closer they got to the edges of Deepburrow the fewer buildings appeared, and more air-dried landscape surrounded them. Along the ground, rocks sharpened to a point and like a compass, guided them to walls that curved up into oblivion. After an hour, they reached the edges of the basin. A tower that swirled with gaudy craftsmanship clung to the wall at least a few hundred feet up. Likely more, but Ezra didn’t want to think about how long the climb would be.

Milo shielded his eyes with a hand and peered at the strange structure. “No wonder you guys were worried about making it back before midnight. I’m going to break my neck just looking at it.”

“Then let's stop looking and get going.” Owen shuffled the papers in his hands and traced the lines on the map. “On the fourth switchback, we take the left trail, and on the twenty-third, we take the right.”

“And how many are there,” Milo said.

“Ninty-six.”

Milo kicked the granite, grumbled several obscenities under his breath, and then returned a grin that said might as well kill myself smiling.

Ezra pulled the straps closer to his chest. “We’re wasting daylight, and I’m ready to get this off my back.”

Owen nodded, folded the map, and they continued.

A few hours later, Milo led the charge and was already on the switchback above Ezra and Owen. Sweat soaked Ezra’s shirt and beaded on his forehead. A drop of perspiration dripped into his eye, and he wiped moisture from his forehead. It felt like the air was getting thinner.

“What a ridiculous thought,” Ezra whispered to himself. “Air doesn’t get thinner.”

“Huh, what was that?” Owen glanced from the side of his bag.

“Nothing. Actually, wait a second,” Ezra panted. “I have something I’ve been meaning to ask you. About my stuff. The day you found me in the collapsed tunnel. Did you find some weird metal sphere with me?”

Owen’s eyes darted across the path as if someone was listening at that very moment. For a second, it seemed he would continue up the path without saying a word. “I did. I have no idea what it does. It’s bad to mess with ancient tech.”

“What if I told you that's how I got out of that cave?”

“I. . .”

“Do you still have it?”

“I do. I didn’t want to throw it away without telling you, but I think you should get rid of it. Those things can be dangerous in the hands of someone inexperienced.”

“Being a sky-seeker is dangerous. I need it back before we apply.”

Owen chewed his lip and took a step forward. Ezra could tell his request pulled at Owen, even though everything that said is was a bad idea was likely running through Owen’s mind.

“Come on,” Milo called, elongating his words. “We said we wouldn’t stop till the fiftieth switchback.”

That was all Owen needed to keep moving forward. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Later,” Ezra grumbled.

The fiftieth switchback arrived, and Owen unloaded food from his backpack. They ate, and few words passed between them. Once Milo finished his food, he was eager to be back on the trail.

“Forty-six more. We can make it before night,” he proudly declared, trying to amp up the rest of the group. Ezra and Owen were so tired that Milo’s words had little effect on them.

The path curved up. Always up. Ezra wondered if it would ever not be up, but up was the only way to go, and the lighthouse was up. He looked down at the ground to stop thinking about what lay above. The talk with Owen ran through his mind, and he thought of each possibility. He had to get that orb back somehow. Perhaps Owen thought later would never come, but Ezra was set on when later would be. Once they reached the lighthouse, he would bring it up again.

The light faded when the path started to level out and open up. They had been trudging along at a constant pace, but when the gleaming tower came into sight, Milo got a second wind. His enthusiasm cracked Ezra’s sour demeanor, and he began a light jog. Owen kept his brisk walk. At the top of the trail, Milo raised his hands and let out a guttural howl. As Ezra made it to the top, a small group of people, behind Milo, looked utterly bewildered at the screaming kid in front of them. The sight almost made Ezra run back down the hill.

Milo saw Ezra’s reddening face and glanced behind himself. He suppressed a laugh and tried to go into business mode. The facade fooled nobody, yet Milo soon shook hands and exchanged greetings with the lighthouse staff. Owen joined him and informed the staff that their purpose was in fact work-related despite the initial entrance.

A man in overalls and a clean undershirt directed them to the unloading area. He commended them on the journey and asked if they would stay the night. Owen turned him down, and the man nodded, wishing them well on their way.

As they unloaded the last of their bags, Milo began to wander off.

“Hey, where are you going? We’re on a tight schedule,” Owen shouted after him.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to see. Follow me.”

“We’re still unloading.” Milo was out of sight, and Owen sighed like an exhausted parent. “You better not go off running too.”

Ezra grinned and dropped his bag. Darting around the various storage containers and rounding the base of the lighthouse, the world opened up as Owen shouted after him.

Milo stood at the edge of a semicircle outlook with a fence surrounding it. An entire valley lay below. Everything in sight contained each moment of their lives. Directly below, barren wind-swept rock swopped into one of many industrial centers. The place had consumed so much of his life but from up here, it looked so small and insignificant. Beyond that, a polished street stretched to the North and met a plaza, the one where the city celebrated Seeker’s Day each year; the day the first settlers had decided to venture beyond the sixth layer. Stories told on that day had captured his imagination. From the silver plaza, several pathways branched out like the arms of a gigantic spider. And beyond the street he had crossed earlier today, rested the misshapen hills of the residential district, covered with buildings that crowded together. Even from up here, he could still see the red sign still glowing strong.

Still beyond, more structures sprawled the basin until they pushed up against an equally steep wall. Long shadows climbed the wall as a fiery light enveloped the land. Everything in the crater was what most people down here called their home, and for their whole lives, they would know nothing different. But that thought didn’t sit right with Ezra. Above them, the walls curved into a circle that punctured their humble abode and bore to an unknown sky. The hole was nearly the size of Deepburrow itself.

“You know the light we get isn’t actually from the ground,” Milo said as he stared at the same hole. “People say it's from a massive sphere of energy on the tenth layer. Eighty years ago, no one knew anything different. They thought when they found the light they would find the ground, but now we know that’s not true. What other truths do you think the abyss hides from us?”

“I thought asking questions like that wasn’t your style?” Ezra said. “I remember you saying a while back you would leave all the thinking to me.”

“After you were in the hospital for so long, maybe I had to start thinking for myself. Wasn’t sure how hard you hit your head.”

“Not hard enough to keep listening to you,” Ezra said as he cracked a smile.

Milo punched Ezra in the shoulder, and they both laughed.

Owen caught up and leaned on the railing. The twilight sparked in his eyes and reinvigorated a fire that had been hidden by the monotonous climb. “How far do you think we’ll make it up? When we become sky-seekers.”

“I want to make it to the sixth layer. I heard they have the best luxury apartments, and the women up there are apparently something else,” Milo said. “You have to be mad, driven, or beyond lucky to make it that far. I’d say a woman like that is way more interesting than anyone you’d find down here.”

“Of course, that would be your reason for climbing,” Ezra provoked.

“I want to make it to the top.”

Ezra and Milo both stared at Owen, wondering if he would crack a smile, tell them it was all a joke, or maybe his words were some far-off dream. Yet he stared up into the abyss above with a determination that belied his humble nature.

“Yeah, let's make it to the top.” Ezra returned his gaze to the hole above. Maybe that’s where those people from that strange vision are.

Milo put an elbow on the railing and turned his eyes back below. “We’re going to need some serious gear if we want to make it that far.”

“Then I’m going to need my orb back.” Ezra poked Owen’s shoulder, and he was pulled back to the present.

Owen sighed. “I suppose you do. If you really think it’ll help us.” Ezra was shocked. He hoped Owen remained of the same opinion by the time they got back down.

“What’s this orb thing?” Milo asked.

“I’ll explain later,” Ezra said. Shadows had almost eclipsed all of Deepburrow. “So, we’re really doing this, becoming sky-seekers, and reaching the top.” A thought of his mother flashed through his mind. He wondered what she was like. In all the endless world above him, where was she now?

Ezra took his hands from the railing. “Let's make a drop oath. I’ve heard it’s something sky-seekers do.” He bent down and cupped dirt into his palms. Milo and Owen hesitated, then repeated the action. “We leave our cowardice and reservations behind and drop them back to the bottom. Unburdened, we make a promise to each other.”

“What should the promise be?” Dirt was already seeping from Milo’s hands.

Owen promptly responded. “To carry each other in every trial till we can feel the true wind on the ground.”

“I like it.” Ezra stood at the edge.

“Didn’t think you were the poetic type. What do you even mean by the true wind,” Milo responded.

They tossed the dirt into the air. The particles drifted into a ray from the fading heavens and into the darkness below.

“A wind that is free. Not bound by the rules of man or the abyss. A wind that finds its own path and follows it into the forever after.”