“So now you're getting whisked away, off to some far-off plane,” Rosemary said to Joseph, “Again.”
“Hey, it's not like it'll be forever,” Joseph said, “Not for me, anyways.”
The two of them, along with Phineas, were in Joseph and Phineas's shared room. Joseph had a bag on his bed, and he was in the middle of packing up clothes and other essentials for the trip. Most of his clothes came from the community closet, novelty t-shirts donated by a late guildmate, along with a few pants and jackets bought from the Witch Rogga, a local seamstress in the city. Survival supplies lay on the bed as well, flashlights and a first aid kit.
“Still,” Rosemary said, “It's a long way off...”
“What's up, Rosemary?” Joseph said, “You going to miss me?”
He smirked at her. Then, when she saw she was reddening, blushed and looked away a hair too quickly.
“No!” she said, “Well, yes, but-”
“It was a joke,” Joseph said.
“Right.”
Phineas, from beneath his bed, thankfully interrupted them.
“I have heard of Old Ludaya before,” he said, “There are few records of them that still exist.”
“Yeah,” Joseph said, “From what Becenti told me, the Federation made sure to destroy as many records of it as possible. But they didn’t get them all.”
Rosemary was quiet at that.
“Do you think he will want to stay?” Phineas asked.
The metahuman shrugged.
“I don't know,” he said, “He seemed... you should have seen him when he was reading that letter. If New Ludaya's legit, he just might.”
“Well, that'd be sad. For us, at least,” Rosemary said.
“...Will you want to live there?” Phineas asked. He asked carefully. As though his words would set Joseph off. Rosemary looked like she had wanted to ask the same question, too. There was a look in her eyes, a nervous glint.
He smiled again.
“Hey,” he said, “I'm not going anywhere.”
“But you are,” Phineas said.
“I'm not going to stay there, Phin,” Joseph said, “My place is here. I'm mostly going to keep an eye on Becenti.”
Rosemary looked a bit too relieved.
“You'll be careful, yeah?” she said.
“I will be.”
“Don't come home all bloodied up again.”
There was a worry to her voice that Joseph had never heard before.
“...I'll try not to,” he said, “But you know how my jobs tend to go.”
***
To say that Aldreia was angry about the situation was an understatement.
She shot a venomous look at Becenti as the two of them, along with Evancar Morandus, sat at one of the tables in the mess hall. Becenti was stacking a few papers, going over some last bits of paperwork before the journey. He did not look happy at the proceedings, either, and he continued going on about what the job entailed, and Evancar’s involvement with it, with a droll, monotonous tone.
We should speak of Evancar Morandus. Professor Evancar Morandus. Guild archaeologist, with a PhD in the field, his thesis being on the ancient empire of Farhad’du, which ruled a vast swath of the multiverse in ancient times. He was thirty-seven years old, and above all he looked a touch out of place with the rest of the guild, with their swords and guns and magic and metahuman powers. He had watery eyes and too-large horn rimmed glasses, flecks of gray hair in a sea of curly brown. He was more at home in his study, or perhaps at an archaeological dig, his usual brown coat caked in dust and sand.
He kept glancing nervously at Becenti, for while the old metahuman respected the Professor, he didn’t exactly like him.
“So, overall,” Becenti said, “You are to accompany Professor Morandus on the expedition to New Ludaya. You are to look after him, and ensure he doesn’t stray too far.”
He said these words bitingly. He leaned in towards Aldreia.
“Is that clear?”
She glared at him.
“Fine,” she said, “I'm his leash for this one, eh?”
“Yes, Ms. Firedawn,” Becenti said, “You are.”
“I'm right here,” Evancar said, “There's, uh, no need to talk like I'm not, haha.”
He gave his sheepish smile. Aldreia suppressed a snort.
“So,” she said, “A metahuman… colony? Kingdom?”
“Nation, Ms. Firedawn,” Becenti said.
Aldreia’s eyes flickered over to Evancar, who at the mention of ‘metahuman nation’ looked about ready to vibrate himself into oblivion.
“Exciting, isn’t it?” the archaeologist said, “Think, if they're resettling one of their old kingdoms, then it means that the ruins might still be around, might-”
“Patience, Professor,” Becenti said.
“All I'm saying, Becenti,” Evancar said, “Is that I missed out on Chliofrond, especially now that it’s gone-”
(Becenti's fists tightened.)
“-And I'm not going to pass up on this opportunity, you hear?”
“Think that's enough,” Aldreia said, “Becenti's busy.”
“R-Right,” Evancar said, and he ran a hand through his hair, “Right. Sorry. I'm just excited, is all. Mister Meaning and Gallimena, they're here?”
“Yes, they're here,” Becenti said, “I think they're eating lunch in the mess hall.”
“Ah, perfect,” Evancar said, “I've got a few questions for them.”
He moved off, all but skipping down the stairs. Aldreia traded a look with Becenti, who nodded his head in the good archaeologist’s direction.
Aldreia sighed. Then, she got up and followed after him.
***
Iandi, at least, was excited to go. The barge of a man's face broke into his childish smile at the news that he would be leaving the guildhall.
“Adventure!” he cried out, “Adventure!”
And he started to dance around his and Nasir's living space, a sizable room located at the top of the northern tower. In any other castle, it would have been an aerie, a loft for birds of various sizes to be housed when they were not flying about the skies as messengers. But communication within the Amber Foundation's guildhall was done by mental spellwork, and messages to the outside world were done by Fedtek communicators or sounding stones. As such, the empty space was now taken up by soldier and survivor. Nasir watched his guildmate dance in joy, a grim smile painted on his face.
“Alright, kid, that's enough,” he said, at length, “Settle down.”
Iandi did, sitting down on his oversized bed. But the innocent, wide smile still did not leave his face.
“Will we bring weapons?” he asked, “Will we blow things up?”
“Don't think it's going to be that sort of job,” Nasir said, blowing a puff from his pipe, “Think they're wanting me more-a-like.”
“Aw, no weapons,” Iandi said, and he pouted, “No job is fun without weapons.”
Nasir patted Iandi’s upper arm.
“It's still an adventure, kid,” Nasir said, “You know that. They want me to go because of my scouting.”
“And I guard you!” Iandi roared, “Iandi guards Nasir, as it always goes!”
Nasir gave a soft smile at that.
“Yeah, kid. That's how it goes.”
***
Joseph and Becenti took lunch together at the mess hall. They sat apart from the rest of the festivities, for it was a busy lunch rush. Gluh the zombie was today's cook, and that meant they ate the best that the guild had to offer. A crab curry affair, the crabs taken from the finest farms beneath the city, the vegetables taken from across the multiverse, for most grown foods in Scuttleway were imported from other parts of Londoa and beyond. The heat sat in the mouth and settled in the stomach. For most of the meal, the two metahumans were quiet, content to enjoy their meal and let the space for conversation be filled with the chatter of the rest of the guildhall. Rosemary was talking with Mallory a table away about a job that Orion was on. Broon and Mekke were with Ezel, and the demigod was acting as a mediator as the half-orc and the former soldier were getting into a heated argument about swordplay.
And Joseph's eyes kept glancing over to Mister Meaning and Gallimena, a few tables away. Professor Morandus had caught up with them, had plopped himself down at their table and was asking them a stream of questions. Mister Meaning was polite, though there was a condescending look in his eye. Aldreia sat apart from them, brushing golden hair from her face. She looked annoyed.
“Short straw, huh?” Joseph said.
Becenti didn't answer. He almost angrily scooped in a mouthful of food.
“Look,” Joseph said, “I know that getting an entire gang of people together isn't what you want, right?”
“That is correct, Mr. Zheng,” Becenti said, “I would have preferred just us.”
“...Won't be all bad,” Joseph said, “Aldreia can be an ass, but Evancar isn't so bad. Iandi's fun.”
“I don't care for 'bad' or 'fun,' Mr. Zheng,” Becenti said.
“What do you care about, then?” Joseph asked, his arms crossed.
Becenti put down his fork. Fixed the younger metahuman with a harsh look.
“I care that we're too obvious, the route we're heading,” he said, “We're already going to have four metahumans traveling in a group. That's bound to draw suspicion, even if we're taking the hidden paths. Add a few guildfolk on top of that? It's a caravan.”
Joseph crossed his arms.
“...You sure it's not because a bunch of non-metahumans are going?” he asked.
Becenti's fists tightened.
“No,” he said, “...Well. Perhaps Professor Morandus.”
Joseph smirked.
“He means well,” Becenti said, “But far too often, I feel he forgets that he must be... respectful, of the artifacts he comes across. He thinks many things belong in museums, and not in the artifact's old homelands.”
“I remember, he was in the running to go to Chliofrond, right?”
“We chose Nash over him,” Becenti said, “It was not a polite debate. He was far too forward.”
He dug a fork into his curry, taking a bite.
“At least Wakeling knows him well enough to get someone like Aldreia to look after him,” Joseph said, “I wouldn't worry. She'll make sure he's not a dipshit.”
“...Perhaps, Mr. Zheng,” Becenti said, “Perhaps.”
***
The day passed. Packing was done. Iandi hardly slept that night, excited as he was. Yet he had been designed to work off of very little sleep anyways, so he looked right as rain as he and Nasir made their way downstairs the next morning. Becenti was already waiting down there, as were Evancar and Joseph. Aldreia came down next. Followed by Gallimena.
“Mister Meaning is still getting ready,” she said, “He said another ten minutes.”
Twenty minutes later, Mister Meaning opened the door of his guest room and sauntered downstairs, in a new set of traveler's robes, with a new walking stick. He smiled, and Joseph noted that he seemed to have put on some cologne.
“Never hurts to travel in style, eh?” Mister Meaning said, “Come. We won't be in Londoa for very long.”
They said last goodbyes, then set off from Castle Belenus. The open plains around Scuttleway greeted them, though they were not on the road for long. A few hours into their journey, Gallimena led them off the path and towards the Lalo Woods to the west.
“The Lalo Woods?” Becenti said, “I've never heard of a Traveling Point there.”
“My dear Shimmer,” Mister Meaning said, “It isn't a Traveling Point.”
Becenti's eyes narrowed.
“There are ruins in the forest,” Evancar offered up, “From before the Tlantoian colonization.”
“Why, aren't you a smart little man,” Mister Meaning drawled, “That's where we're going!”
He smiled. Aldreia, despite her annoyance at Evancar, suppressed an urge to throttle him.
Indeed, they passed into the woods. Birds called high above. A few crickets were already chirping, despite it being barely noon. A chorus of cicadas droned out their songs. There was no road in the Lalo Woods. Most travelers left the place alone, and the logging unions from Scuttleway mostly cut down trees in the northern parts, and they were far in the south.
The ruins were of a stone make, a few lonely arches and pillars amidst a sea of green. Hardly ruins at all, though Evancar stepped around them, looking this way and that. His gray eyes settled on one of the archways, and he tilted his head.
“That wasn't there before,” he said.
“It rebuilt itself,” Mister Meaning said, “When we used it as a gate.”
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
“A gate?” Becenti said, “Out here?”
“The power source is on the other side,” Mister Meaning said, “But, with the right runes, we can open it up here too.”
He pointed. Indeed, etched into the arch was a series of runes, jagged and harsh, that went up and down the arch and down into the earth.
Mister Meaning opened up his chest, fishing around for a few moments, before he produced a glass jar, inside of which was a swirling cloud of light.
“An elemental,” Joseph said, and he leaned down to look at it, “What kind?”
“Light,” Mister Meaning said, “Our Founder, Luminary, she summons them up on occasion, so we're able to use these here gates.”
He opened the jar, plucking out the elemental and placing it beside one of the runes. The light elemental poured into the etched marks, filling the symbol as though it were a liquid, bleeding into the other runes and lighting the entire archway in its yellow glow.
A door appeared, a solid wooden make with the symbol of three swans flying in a V formation.
“Cygnetia,” Becenti said, “A rare plane.”
“Barely in forecast anywhere,” Mister Meaning said, “The High Federation can barely get a bead on it, so it's ideal for traveling. The Three Swans will be passing by a Traveling Point to Kamareta very soon.”
He opened the door, and a cold gale wind whipped up around them. The gate led to a ruin near the First Swan's head, and they could hear the trumpeter's call echoing with the force of a thunderclap. Mister Meaning smiled.
“Our ways are hidden, dear Shimmer,” he said, “We've discovered paths the Federation could only dream of.”
He held the door open for the rest of them to step through.
“After you.”
***
They stayed on Cygnetia for three days, hunkering down at a small inn outside the primary city atop the First Swan's back as she traveled, flying or swimming, across the expanse of a toxic lake. The Three Swans were siblings, and once had been as close as could be, but time and pain had turned them against each other, and on the third day, as they approached the Traveling Point that would take them to Kamareta, the Third Swan attacked the First, the denizens atop his back dropping firebombs onto the waterbird. They ran to the Traveling Point amidst a hailstorm of flames, only just making it to the other side in time.
Kamareta, thankfully, was an uneventful part of their journey. The plane was a sparse one, in the grip of an ice age, and little life had settled here. The group put on heavy coats and boots, and marched across the snowy wastes towards the next Traveling Point. There were no Federation soldiers guarding it, despite the fact that it led to Bloodrun.
Bloodrun, an old Darwinist plane. It had once been an empty place, but the Darwinists, who had discovered the plane, found it rich in Choridium, a key alloy in the construction of their starships. The caravan passed broken down shipyards and military bases on their journey, but according to Mister Meaning, Bloodrun was on the outs in terms of forecasting, and would leave the known multiverse entirely in a year's time.
“And when will it drift back in?” Joseph asked.
“About five hundred years from now,” Mister Meaning said, “Not that long for the Federation, mind you, but definitely quite a long time to leave an outpost. Especially one with the materials to build their own birds of prey, hmm?”
He smiled his smearing smile.
“No, Bloodrun will be long gone, soon enough. Come, we're almost to the gate.”
Joseph exchanged a look with Becenti.
“What is it, Mr. Zheng?”
“We always talk about planes being in forecast,” Joseph said, “Are there a lot of planes like Bloodrun or Earth, that just... drift away for a long time?”
“Some do,” Becenti said, “Bloodrun is a bit of an extreme example. Some planes are like Earth, with very short windows where their Traveling Points are aligned with the known multiverse and able to be traveled to. Most planes are known to be simply uncontactable, or don't possess Traveling Points at all.”
“But you know of them.”
“Old history speaks of them, and some can be accessed via gates, or other methods of interplanar travel,” Becenti said, “But those methods-”
“Are difficult.”
“Yes, Mr. Zheng,” Becenti said, and Joseph noted that the two of them were letting the rest of the group move ahead of them, giving them a bit of privacy, “I don't like how many gates we're using. They can be dangerous, if one is not careful.”
Joseph was quiet.
“What is it, Mr. Zheng?”
“I remember Wakeling telling me that Earth's going back into forecast in another forty years or so,” he said, “So, theoretically, I could wait it out.”
“Are you still thinking of going back?”
“I mean, maybe one day,” Joseph said, “No time in the near future. I... I'm here now.”
“But it's still your birth plane.”
“Yeah,” Joseph said, “I didn't leave exactly on the best terms with my family. It would be nice to... let them know I'm alright, you know?”
Becenti was quiet.
“You've told me a bit about your home plane, Joseph. And about your family. How they weren't exactly the most...”
“They weren't the best,” Joseph said, simply. His voice now had a bit of heat.
“But I'm glad that you're still thinking of them,” Becenti said, “I wish I had been able to say goodbye to my own father. To my brothers. I wish I had been able to be there for them.”
He laid a hand on his guildmate's shoulder.
“I know that you have found that your place is here,” he continued, “But never forget where you came from, Joseph. A part of ourselves is always where we were born and where we grew up. To cast it away is to cast away part of your soul.”
“We're here!” Mister Meaning called from the front. He had stopped in front of another series of old ruins, the corpse of a temple that had somehow avoided being destroyed by the Darwinist factories.
“I'll...” Joseph said, “I'll keep that in mind.”
“See that you do,” Becenti said, and he went to join the other metahumans at the front of the pack.
***
Mister Meaning opened up the gate on Bloodrun, plucking out a light elemental once more and applying it to the runes set on the temple. This time, there was a strange feeling in Joseph's stomach as they stepped through the door. Like something was wrong.
Indeed, when all of them stepped through, the door shuddered, and splintered apart. The archway it had been built in collapsed into a heap of stone.
“What happened?” Aldreia said.
“Looks like the gate couldn't take the energy,” Evancar said, kneeling down to pick up a stone. He flipped it over, revealing a rune on its surface, now split in two, “These gates fell out of use for a reason. They can only be used so many times.”
“That's not good,” Mister Meaning said, and there was a light edge to his voice, “Bloodrun was an important plane in our network. We've... hmm.”
He considered the remains of the gate for a few moments, before walking over to Evancar.
“My good man,” the metahuman said, “May I...?”
“Oh, of course,” Evancar handed the stone to Mister Meaning, who opened up his chest and threw it in.
“I'll tell Luminary about what happened,” he said, “She won't be happy. But, it's as our good archaeologist friend said. Sometimes there's a time limit.”
He winked at the group. Becenti rolled his eyes, then looked around. It was night here, and the wind whispered through distant trees, which were long and twisting and covered in what looked like baubled lights.
“Where are we?” Becenti asked.
“Impellia III,” Gallimena said, “In the Outer Reach.”
“The Outer Reach?” Becenti said, wheeling, “Of the Silver Eye?”
“The very same,” Mister Meaning said, “Hiding right under the Federation's noses. In the galactic north, just on the very edge of the plane itself. If you're not careful, our ship will slip right off.”
He started moving away, towards the forest of lights.
“Come along!” he said.
“Now, wait just a minute,” Nasir said, speaking up, “I have a question for you.”
“You can walk and talk, can't you?”
Nasir stomped after the preening metahuman, cutting him off from his path.
“You’re a metahuman nation,yes?” Nasir said, “We'd thought that you'd be out way past the known multiverse. On planes like Cygnetia.”
“Hmm,” Mister Meaning said.
“Where is this New Ludaya?” Nasir said, “It's not on the Silver Eye proper, is it?”
“No,” Gallimena said, “Just in the forest is the Traveling Point.”
Nasir looked dumbfounded. Iandi, meanwhile, ran over and picked up his guildmate, hoisting him onto a shoulder.
“Yay!” the super soldier said, “Almost there!”
And he trundled off. Mister Meaning followed.
And, again, Joseph and Becenti exchanged a look.
“It is out of the way,” Evancar said, beside them, “Federation doesn't really have a military presence in the Outer Reach.”
“It's still highly risky,” Becenti said, his brow furrowing, “And highly unusual.”
But he moved on. Aldreia tapped Evancar on the shoulder.
“Come on,” she said, “it’s odd, but maybe the plane that New Ludaya’s on will go out of forecast soon.”
“Perhaps,” Evancar said, though he did not look convinced.
***
Then, at last, they reached the Traveling Point to New Ludaya. It was hidden in a small clearing in the wood, attended to by two metahuman guards. The stars above twinkled in their endless miasma, and the moon above cast its calm glow upon them. One of the metahumans appeared to have been carved out of ice. The other was covered in small slits, taller than the others, and Joseph recognized her.
“...You're Pocket,” he said, “From Death Valley.”
She grimaced, then nodded.
“I don't remember your name,” she said to him, “But I recognize Shimmer. You were with...”
“Oliphant,” Joseph said, “Err... Analyza's your partner, right?”
“Indeed.”
“She's... her leg's alright?”
“She has recovered. Physically,” Pocket said, “I don't want to talk about it. Death Valley is in the past now.”
“Aaaand the future is here,” Mister Meaning said, gesturing to the Traveling Point, “Pocket, Iceformed, we're here with guests. May I introduce Shimmer-”
“Becenti.”
“Joseph Zheng, Evancar Morandus, and a few others,” Mister Meaning said, and he twirled his hand around, “Metahumans and humans. Cousins, yes?”
“You're on a job for Luminary, right?” Iceformed said, and their voice was like a scream in a storm, “You will, of course, record the visitors.”
“Why, yes.”
“I will herald your arrival, then,” Iceformed said, “Pocket, you're good on your own?”
“I am,” Pocket said.
Iceformed nodded, then stepped through the Traveling Point. After a few moments, Mister Meaning beckoned for the group to follow. Becenti went first, without hesitation. The others hung back for a few moments.
“Alright,” Evancar said, and he was hyping himself up, “Here I go.”
He all but jumped into the Traveling Point, earning him a scoff from Pocket. Aldreia followed close behind. Nasir and Iandi went next, going along with Gallimena. Joseph was alone with Pocket for a few moments. The two of them looked awkwardly at each other. Joseph felt the urge to say something to her.
But he wasn't sure.
Then, perhaps she was right. Death Valley was in the past. He decided to treat it like a guild spat, nothing personal at the end of the day.
(This, despite the fact that their groups had tried to kill each other. That both he and Pocket still had nightmares.)
He gave Pocket a final nod, and then stepped through the Traveling Point. Felt the rush of the multiverse flow through him. A mosaic of colors streamed alongside him as was carried across reality towards New Ludaya, the energy that was known as Imagination. Yet even now there was a harsher, more intense quality to them. The colors were brighter. Richer and fuller. As though the multiverse knew that there were metahumans on the other side, and roaring.
The world was bright when he stumbled out, and Aldreia caught him before he fell to his knees. Joseph grimaced, letting his eyes adjust as the cleric helped him to his feet.
They were on the ledge of a mountain, a jutting of stone that overlooked the nation of New Ludaya. The sky was a calm, warm blue, and a forest nestled against the mountain's side, conifers and oaks and over-large buckeyes, overgrown and resembling bushes with the aspirations of giants. Lakes and rivers criss-crossed the wood, some with boats already plying their surfaces, nets cast down into their depths to capture fish. In the distance the forest disappeared, taken over by till plains and farmland, wheat and corn fields, rice paddies, sapfruit and gera vineyards. Buildings, too, the beginnings of a city, with wood taken from the forest, or erected by metahuman abilities. Some were made of stone. Others were ice, or solidified flame, one was a strange, multi-angled structure made of stained glass.
Metahumans were flying above. Others were in the water. A few of them were greeting the group now, a delegation of the weird and wonderful. They were headed by a dark-skinned man in green, a smile on his face, stone gauntlets covering his arms.
“Mister Meaning!” the man called out, “You've brought guests!”
“One of Luminary's old friends, along with a few members of his guild,” Mister Meaning said.
At this, the man with the stone gauntlet's brow furrowed.
“Are they metahumans?”
“Two are,” Mister Meaning said, casting a sly eye at Joseph, “The others are simple guildfolk. Shimmer vouches for them.”
“Shimmer...?” the man looked at Becenti, and his eyes began to widen in recognition. A smile broke out on his face, and he let out a solid laugh and crossed over to clasp his hand.
“It's just Becenti, nowadays,” the older metahuman said.
“Becenti, Shimmer, it matters not!” the man with the gauntlets said, “It's good to see you here. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Pauldros the Stonemaker, member of the Council.”
He gauged the rest of them, looking over at Joseph.
“And you are?”
“Joe.”
“That's it? No other name?”
“Just Joe, for now.”
“Hmm,” Pauldros the Stonemaker considered those words, before giving a sage nod, “Well, it is a fine enough name. It matters not.”
“Pauldros, my good man,” Mister Meaning drawled, “Would you do the honors of attending to our guests? I'd like to take Shimmer up to see Luminary, post-haste.”
“You're in luck, it's still an hour or two before the Moot,” Pauldros the Stonemaker said, “Go on, take Luminary's friend up. I'll deal with the guildfolk.”
He smiled at them, and members of the delegation started to draw forward, guiding Becenti's group from the Traveling Point. Pauldros took the lead, moving towards a staircase that spiraled from the ledge down towards the ground below. Mister Meaning took Becenti in the other direction.
“Meet up later?” Joseph asked.
“Yes, Mr. Zheng,” Becenti said, “Tour the place. Enjoy yourselves. I will see you soon.”
And they left. Pauldros the Stonemaker's delegation took them down the mountain, stopping near the base before going into a series of wide tunnels carved into the stone's face.
“Now, most of the living spaces here are in Mt. Redress itself,” the metahuman said, “Courtesy of yours truly.”
He smiled, and brought a gauntleted hand to the wall. The rock began to shape itself, twisting and carving until the words, “Hello World!” were branded on its surface.
“E-Efficient,” Evancar said, “And, how old is this mountain?”
Pauldros shrugged.
“A few million years, is my guess,” he said, “I've only been here for a year or two, and despite everything I don't talk to the stone. Not like that. I think there's a few of my colleagues with abilities that can answer your questions, perhaps a bit better than I.”
Other metahumans were in the halls. Workers, by the looks of them, sweeping the floors or carrying pickaxes and chisels. They passed down one of the halls, where they watched as someone with the power to secrete acid was applying their hands to the wall, melting it down.
“We're always building,” Pauldros said, “Most of New Ludaya's moved outside, but Mt. Redress is important to us. It's where all of the governmental offices are located, as well as the Cave of Awakening.”
“Cave of Awakening?” Joseph asked.
“Ah, where latent metahumans Awaken,” Pauldros said, “I'm sure if you stay here long enough, you'll be witness to such a sight.”
He stopped at one of the rooms. Beds and tables had been set up for them, carved from the same stone as the mountain.
“You can stay here,” Pauldros said, “Feel free to relax. Make yourselves comfortable. It's been a long day for you. Dodeca here will be your guide.”
He nodded to one of his attendants, a tall and muscular woman with a shaved head and a dark look on her face. She seemed to suppress a grimace before giving a curt nod.
“When you have eaten, feel free to explore New Ludaya,” Pauldros said, “Dodeca, please accompany them. Call on anyone you need to support you.”
“Yes, sir,” Dodeca growled.
The Stonemaker grinned at the group as they started putting bags on their beds. Iandi looked at his, frowning.
“It is small,” he said.
“Hmm, it is,” Nasir replied. He looked up at Pauldros.
Who rested a hand against the wall. Stone began to erect upwards, combining two of the beds together.
“Dodeca will arrange for a mattress to be provided,” he said, “If you will excuse me.”
And he moved off. Dodeca rolled her eyes, leaned against the frame of a doorway. The Amber Foundation looked at each other.
“Nasir,” Aldreia said, “I swear to Pelliad that if Iandi’s snoring keeps me up, I’ll throttle you.”
“Why me?” Nasir said, “It’s the boy who snores.”
“I don’t snore!” Iandi cried out.
“You… You do,” Evancar admitted, “I can hear it from the other tower sometimes.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Joseph said.
Iandi looked mournfully down at Nasir. Nasir patted his arm.
“It’s alright, I’m used to it,” he said, “Don’t worry. Snore away.”
Aldreia snorted, rolled her eyes, and simply walked to her bed and began to unpack.
Joseph took stock of his room, his bed. Outside, He could hear people working. Someone was using a jackhammer, or had the ability of one, because its droning shook the stone above them.
“Nice place,” he said.
***
Mister Meaning, meanwhile, took Becenti up the stairs and towards the top of the mountain. Here, instead of barebone stone walls and floors, the tunnels leading up to the upper estates were painted and cobbled in rich purples and blues, greens and reds, oranges and yellows. Sashes lined the walls, as did paintings of famous metahuman figures, all of them walking up towards a single, great room.
“The council chambers,” Mister Meaning said.
No one accosted them, giving Mister Meaning a wide berth. Becenti noted that not a few of them were giving a sharp look at the sharp-dressed man as his back was turned.
They continued going up. Towards a spiraling staircase. Up through another hallway, one with murals depicting the various metahuman kingdoms of Epochia.
And, at last, a closed door. Mister Meaning strode over, giving it a knock. Then a second.
A voice old, yet all too familiar, came muted from the other side.
“Come in.”
Mister Meaning opened the door, taking point as he walked inside. Luminary's room was built out of an open mouth cave, the original entrance sealed up with glass, so one could behold the entirety of New Ludaya below. The wall was lined with a shining moss, bright green in color, and the place was also illuminated by light-formed shapes, cubes and cones and pyramids.
A woman was looking out the great window, hands behind her back.
“Miss Luminary,” Mister Meaning said, bowing, “I'm here. With Shimmer.”
And she turned. Time had drained her youth. Pain had drained her of gentle aging, for she was all sharp angles and her eyes were sunken in a way they hadn't before when Becenti had known her. But she was still Luminary. There was still that strange way her mouth tugged upwards when she smiled, still the way that her upper teeth jutted past her lower due to an overbite she had never wanted to fix. She was still wearing her jewelry, her oversized rings, her overlong necklace, there were still the metal beads in her stringy hair and she had not removed the silverish tattoos on her wrinkled hands.
“Shimmer,” she breathed, “Oh, my Shimmer.”
“Hello, Luminary,” Becenti said.
And they rushed forth to embrace.