Thorin hasn’t spoken to me in four days. I wonder if we should go back down. Recoup our losses. I tell myself that, but the order would never let us leave twice. Maybe that’s why I came up here. I couldn’t stand San’tel’s oppressive rules.
Thorin told me we would make our own rules once we got up here. For once in our lives, be free, but all we found was a new set of rules. Prey or be preyed upon. Starve or hunt. Kill or be killed. A crueler set of rules if you ask me.
But I still have hope. Hope that more is out there. I have that hope because of him. He doesn’t say it, but I can see it in his eyes. He’s thinking of something. Figuring out how to get us out of this situation. He always has. Like that time we got caught stealing fusion coils.
Even when we were still in the abyss, he lived by his own rules. So why did he need to come up here? What is he seeking? I have faith in him. But you know, sometimes I still wonder.
Maryel’s 3rd Recording, Year Unknown
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The test admin was already speaking to the survivors when Ezra and Milo walked into the room. A projector displayed a picture of the administrator, his name, and credentials like the whole affair was a business conference. Ezra caught a glimpse of the name before the man switched the slides. Theodin Valdera. A name as ostentatious as the man himself. All of that was hidden behind a professional veneer, but for a moment Ezra had seen his true nature.
A map of the inverted abyss appeared on the screen, and Milo dragged him to a padded scarlet chair. After carefully observing the room, he relented and opened his ears to Theodin’s words.
“As you progress, your pockets will designate your rank and serve as your passport to higher layers.”
Pocket? Ezra bit his lip, trying to decipher the missing information. Two rows ahead, Marcus twirled a gray disk in his hands. White lines covered the surface like the patterns Ezra had seen on countless circuit boards in his father’s shop. Milo tapped Ezra’s shoulder and waved a similar disk in front of his face.
“Check your left pocket,” he whispered.
Ezra shoved his hand into his pocket, and sure enough, a similar disk appeared. “When did they…”
Milo shushed him and pointed towards the front. Theodin continued his speech. “As of now, you are simply known as seekers. Unofficially, you may hear the term unalloyed pockets. Once you progress to the third layer, you will have a chance to obtain the designation of Morltin pocket. At the sixth Polnolite pocket and at the tenth Stoletime pocket. Unless you have obtained proper clearance, you will not be allowed to progress to higher layers. This is all to ensure the safety of inexperienced sky-seekers. Some may wish to forego safety in favor of brash recklessness. Thinking it will provide them some thrill or adventure, but here at the Groud-Seekers Office of Trainees, we do not entertain such thoughts.”
Theodin’s eyes fixed on Ezra. Long enough for no one else to notice. Ezra felt tempted to throw the disk right between his eyes.
“We wish all of you to develop into accomplished and skillful sky-seekers.” Theodin clicked to the next slide as the women in turquoise robes spoke up.
“Stoletime isn’t the highest rank.”
Theodin cleared his throat at the sudden interruption. “You are correct. Hana Bai Lou. If I am not mistaken, your father is one of the twelve that carries the rank known as voyager.” Whispers passed through the room, yet Hana sat still. Theodin tapped his microphone, and the electronic screech silenced the ruckus. “There is no test to obtain this rank. It is only given to those of exceptional skill or influence. Those who have defined what it means to be a sky-seeker.”
Hana was likely the oldest in the room, yet with a legacy that proceeded her, Ezra wondered why she was taking the test now. Or why she was taking it on the first layer at all.
“Twenty years ago, Jin Bai Lou was the first to make it to the 11th layer, and four years ago saved 79 sky-seekers during the burning of the Golden Wing route in the ninth layer. And just a year ago…” Hana was beginning to become as red as heated metal. Theodin clicked the next slide and spared her any further embarrassment. “Each of you may have noticed a similar display upon completing your first test.” A gray screen appeared on the slide matching the one Ezra had seen moments ago. “This is called your attribute screen. It is a physical representation of your strength as a sky-seeker. At the top of this screen, you will accumulate experience as you climb the inverted abyss.”
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The letters e, x, and p suddenly made sense. It was simple. To the point. Yet Ezra still wished those numbers didn’t remind him of experiences he hoped could be forgotten. Was that all that Owen’s life had been reduced to for Marcus? Just numbers on a screen. Telling him that he was stronger after killing an earnest and hopeful human being.
Theodin kept droning on about point distributions, skill advantages and evolutions, robustness deviations, and level requirements. It was all so much information it made Ezra want to shut his brain off. Milo leaned forward intently, listening to every word and seemingly energized by the info dump. Ezra figured he would ask him later about any pertinent information he missed.
After what felt like an eternity, Theodin finally clicked on the last slide and opened the room to questions. Nearly half of everyone’s hand shot up. Before Theodin could pick someone, Ezra made his voice heard.
“Where does this system come from anyway? Is it just another device you people imagined to impose more rules on us?”
Theodin glared at the second interruption but quickly resumed his professional demeanor. “I believe the core of your question is about the origins of the A.S.H.O. system. It was discovered by the now-deceased founder of Faulpher-tek nearly 400 years ago. The specific details of his discovery are unfortunately lost to time.”
“How convenient,” Ezra said, ready to continue his interrogation. Yet Theodin had already picked another hand, and Camila asked a question about robustness deviations.
Milo nudged him. “We don’t need to know how the bread is made. Let's just enjoy how it tastes.”
He may have been satisfied with that, but Ezra was not. To him, his pocket was too similar to the Thorin-sphere, and he still had a million questions about that. Faulpher-tek being so closely tied with the A.S.H.O. system didn’t inspire confidence either.
As Theodin finished answering questions, he directed them through a series of hallways and into a room filled with leather bags, backpacks, and an assortment of other gear. “You will find the supplies you dropped off before entering the testing area here. Down the hallway and to the left, we have lodging if you wish to stay the night. If you are eager to continue your climb, you may exit on the right.”
People crowded into the room and began searching through the bags. Ezra and Milo waited a few moments as others got their stuff and cleared out. Towards the back of the wall, they found three backpacks. Ezra stood for a moment and stared unblinking at the third. Owen’s backpack. Frozen in place, others shuffled around him to continue emptying the room. Ezra blinked, grabbed his backpack, and quickly exited. Milo didn’t bother going after his friend and rubbed the temple of his forehead. Without any hesitation, he grabbed the two remaining backpacks.
Marcus rounded the right corner and was already out of Ezra’s sight. Gripping the shoulder straps of his backpack, Ezra marched after him. Suddenly, the world lurched around him, and the backpack pushed hard against his shoulders.
“Wrong way.” Milo yanked the backpack again as Ezra took another step towards the exit.
“We’re continuing the climb.”
“Not tonight. I’m exhausted, and I know you are too. The decision is final.”
“Your decision, not mine. I can keep going.” Ezra clenched his fist. Marcus was getting further away.
“Going for what?” Milo kept his voice deathly calm. It was not like him. In nearly every memory Ezra had of him, Milo was always the loudest in the room. “To chase after him until you get yourself killed.”
“I can’t lose sight of him. I know I can't kill him now, but when the time comes, I have to know where he is.”
“Then rest. We’ll find him tomorrow.”
Ezra yanked his backpack away from Milo and gripped the Thorin-sphere. A blonde woman, crying, flashed into his mind. Another woman lay in a blood-soaked dress. If only we had gotten here sooner. Oh, Isabella. We should have stopped him. She stared up, and a rush of emotions invaded Ezra’s head. Why didn’t you stop him?
The flood of memories pressed against his skull, and Ezra raised his voice. “We need to kill him now. He’ll only get stronger.” Several people glanced in their direction.
Milo lowered his tone to a sharp whisper. “And then what? What about the rest of Marcus’s team? We don’t know what skills they have, and by the time we can get the jump on them they’ll be in the second layer. We know next to nothing about the second layer.”
“I know what it’s like.”
“You’ve heard stories.” Milo’s soft features had hardened, and he stepped closer. “The same stories I have. It’s a bioluminescent forest. That’s it. We know nothing else about it. So stop running your mouth like you’re the hero. I don’t want to get killed either.”
“Then don’t come.”
“That’s not… We both saw what happened in that test room. I put on a brave face, but honestly, I was scared.” A weight seemed to lift from Milo’s chest. “It was the first time in years I actually feared for my life. I thought I was going to die.”
“Owen did.” Ezra glared at Milo, the death replaying over and over in his mind.
“And you don’t fear for yours?”
“No.”
Milo raised his hand. He almost seemed ready to slap Ezra, but his fingers trembled as they covered his mouth as if to keep in words ready to slip out. “Then run off like your mother and forget everyone you cared about.”
A fist struck Milo's jaw, and he was sent staggering across the hallway. He put his thumb to the corner of his mouth and smeared a streak of blood. Breathing heavily, Milo put a hand on his knee. Eyes filled with rage, they observed each other from opposite ends, still processing what had transpired.
Milo took in a few more strained breaths and spoke first. “Don’t die down here. Owen won’t see your grave from the top.” He slid up the wall and limped towards the overnight lodging.
Marcus was likely already out of the building, and Ezra’s fist throbbed with pain. Blood still stained his hands, and now Milo’s blood was blending in. The color of his palms reminded him of the red-tipped dagger protruding through Owen’s back. The more he stared down, the dirtier his fingers looked. Before Ezra could think anymore, he stomped towards the left entrance to wash the lingering filth. For he hoped he would wash away the memory too.