Solas. Ah, Solas. A Capital City in the middle of the Lost Continent, a strong city built by a strong, hearty people, the Sunlets. A modern city, neither living in the past the way the Aeon Slugs do, nor living in the future, the way the Enelim favor.

The present, the modern age. The 'human craze' that had swept across The World had, not to downplay how bad it was everywhere else, taken a particularly deep root in Solas. There was something about modern culture that meshed really, really well with the culture of Solas. What could it possibly be?

It was one city during the day, when the Sunlets would come out to play, and one city at night, when the Sunlets hoarded the light. It was a city of raw industry, where bits and pieces of monsters and materials from The World over would come to be transformed by legendary craftsmen, and shipped out to be turned into miracles of science and magic. It wasn't a place where legendary equipment was forged, it was a place where legendary forges were assembled; where the finest raw mana gems could be processed into their most useful and usable forms. It was where the corpses of legendary monsters were shipped to be transformed into leather, meat, usable bones and nerve-wire; where its blood would be brewed into a liquor or potion; where every part could be exploited and polished to the highest degree possible.

No legendary swords came from Solas, yet, no legendary sword could be made without the City of the Sun.

It sat in a confluence of tremendous danger. To its west, the vast and horrible Overcavern Forest, full of biological bounty and insects of rare and endless variety.

To its east, the Elemental Pit, a vast swath of the surface world the size of a state peeled away, destroyed, exposing the first cavern layer, and the second, and even the third, in some places. A place where turbulent mana brought everything to life, and elemental beings reigned supreme in their circles. It was a land of supreme danger, yet, it held unlimited treasures in the form of rare crystalized mana, of magical ore, of wild magic that enchanted everything. It rivaled every other location in The World for its sheer magical turbulence, and heroes and villains in equal measure have been forged in its chaos.

To the north, far away yet not far enough, the Ultima Tower, which spewed forth hordes of monsters. A dungeon once challenged by grim faced [Questors], who never succeeded, who left bits of themselves behind with every attempt, till there was nothing left. A tower so immense, once a year its shadow touches the center of the city, a grand ritual, an annual test of worth.

To the south were wildlands occupied by Ancient Citadels, which had progressed beyond Fortresses and become Dark Cities, home to sentient monster races of a pure and refined malevolence, cultured beings content to view existence itself as the ultimate evil and revel in the nightmare. Through an alchemy of pain, mystery, suffering and genius, they produced wonders which would make those who gazed upon them weep at their beauty. Their caravans headed north and traded, and went south, obeying ancient treaties and laws. Watch your children when the Dark City Circus comes, watch your young men when the Dark City Caravan rides, cover your ears when the Dark City Priests peel away the illusion and show you what is underneath.

Solas, it was a city situated in the heart of a vortex of resources, expertly riding the storm generation after generation, adapting and evolving and never falling. Solas was a city of pride and secrets, and it extended deep underground, boasting of their achievement of situating the Bank of the Sun in the fourth cavern layer, and holding it there, reaping the rewards. The deepest civilized bank in the world, System Confirmed.

Larger, so much larger than New York. Larger than Beijing, larger than Shanghai, larger than Tokyo. Large enough that a man could wander for years and never see it all. It extended down like a hand plunged into the ground, reaching for the bottom. Down below criminals dealt in dark, smoky rooms while smooth music played and crimes were planned with the high and powerful above. Heists, scams, schemes and more were traded like stocks, an idea could make you rich, if you were brave enough to sell it and take what they offered. Solas was a city of money, where it talked, walked and bossed you around; where it could put your ass on a throne or put your ass in the fucking ground. Profit was king, deals were cheap and loyalty was a punchline.

Fortunes were made here, and fortunes were lost, and amid it all, the people of the city worked and leveled and reveled in the energy. The Gangs had names here, and so did the law. Dryden was a pawn on a chessboard where the pieces picked themselves up and schemed, where they painted themselves black or white, the color of whoever was winning, or whoever was paying the most. Where nobody knew who moved the pieces, not even The System himself.

Amid it all. . . an Aeon Slug made his way in, to stand trial. His crime was called Summoning, but that wasn't what he was going to stand trial for. A way into the Purelands had been found, and a bounty had been extracted, and no heavenly retribution had fallen upon them; a task previously considered impossible by [High Summoners], a heist The System wouldn't have attempted, not from fear, but from wisdom. No, the crime he'd stand trial for was having a valuable secret, and the sentence was sharing the secret, or death. He'd get an honest judge, a pretty dwarven hammer, but not much else, and an honest judge can only help you in the courtroom.

An Heiress being granted the freedom of youth and wealth looked at her home and was, for the first time, nervous about Solas. She, and so many other young people, had done the unthinkable and spent their System Credit, their ability to ask The System to do anything for them, and have it done, for a price. They'd traded the protection of that wealth for. . . a phone, which Ben didn't want to understand, but he would.

Because the funny thing was, it wasn't as bad of a trade as it seemed. Anna had been cut off from the wealth of her family, a punishment for poor judgment and one that had been replicated the world over by horrified parents, family patriarchs and matriarchs.

And amid it all, A [Prince], A [Beyonder], A [Hunter] and [Actor], A [Dreamer], and an unclassed Aeon Slug fugitive wandered closer and closer to the entrance, covered head to toe in loot from The Beyond, and a conquered Citadel, oblivious to the splash they were about to cause.

If the [Brawler], the [Mage] and the [Rogue] hadn't been so caught up in their own thoughts and worries, they might have said something. . . but then again, they might not have.

After all, Solas was a safe city.

--

“Prince Ben, you have completely sold me on the concept of a 'shower',” Red said, making air quotes, “and I would like one immediately.”

“I'm still not totally clear on it,” Short Bus said, a frown of real confusion on his face, “swim that by me one more time, it sounds like just getting wet? Or being underwater, but not?”

“I'm rather looking forward to a very harsh bristle brush,” Vivi said, a snooty expression in his eyes, “and I think I'll head to the Ad-ult section of the public bathing area,” he said, emphasizing each syllable in adult and looking for every instance and purpose like a teenager in an 'Ad-ults' body. Ben paused and glanced over at Vivi, his mind suddenly strangely curious about the bathing habits of Aeon Slugs.

“What exactly does that mean,” Ben said, but then Anna let out a frustrated groan.

“He's not going to get a bath, we're taking him straight to the courthouse for in-processing, then we're,” she said, indicating her team, “going to the adventurers guild to collect our fat bounty, and then I'm going home and putting myself in the autoclave at the highest temperature, the highest pressure and having myself a good cry.”

“Prince Ben,” Ghost Ears said, flying over, “I believe our first stop should be the City Crystal. Touching it will unlock the full extent of our classes and levels, in addition to granting us our [Quest] ability. I imagine with the difficulty of our quest, we will receive quite a powerful one.”

“Wait, I thought we were going to the bar with Thirty-One,” Short Bus said, pointing at the floating cyborg with a thick thumb.

“I think it would be best if we post-poned our trip to the bar until such time as the law is not actively looking for us,” Thirty-One said, floating along smoothly, “though I admit some degree of excitement to show off my new carriage,” he said, referring to his new metal shell he got from Red and Vivi's unethical(?) looting program.

“I'd like to just turn around and start slaying the gremlins responsible for my pain,” Red muttered, not sounding like she had a lot of energy, rubbing her temples and then scrunching her face up a little in frustration. Ben didn't look for very long, because it was kind-of cute, but also, kind-of frightening.

“No!” Anna practically shouted, nearly stomping a foot out of sheer frustration, “No, no, no! Courthouse! All of you!”

“Or what,” both Ben and Short Bus said at the same time, then grinned at eachother.

“Or the guards will come get you,” Dryst said, floating closer to them and suddenly taking on an air of menace, “and a guarantee you, you don't want to meet the guardians of Solas.” Ben thought about saying something like 'Buddy, I just solo'ed a Citadel motherfucker, your guards don't scare me,' but then remembered that he wasn't a fucking moron and kept his mouth shut.

Solas was a beautiful city, and the closer one got to it, the larger it seemed. As they walked, Ben began to sense the tell-tale signs of dimensional warping, though on a scale and at a level of sophistication he'd never encountered before. Frankie appeared on his shoulder, having adjusted his size effortlessly to keep up with Ben's Leap-Rechaun transformation. The Utility Pocket Elemental was wearing the Raiment of Power from Betsy, which had also adjusted its size to fit Frankie, and wearing it proudly. Frankie stood on Ben's shoulder like a dog standing on its front legs on a sunny day with a good breeze. Though the elemental being had no face, Ben could practically see Frankie's eyes closed in contentment as the elemental's strange senses took in the masterfully engineered space.

“Not bad, eh buddy?” Ben said and then ruffled Frankie a bit with his hand, enjoying the soft, plush texture. In response, Frankie leaned into the attention, nuzzling at Ben a little before going back to enjoying life. Anna watched the interaction with a degree of discomfort that was visible, something like a frown of guilt on her face. Ben looked over at her and then looked away, making an educated guess. “You guys really just let them die?” Ben asked, willing to listen, even if he wasn't going to like the answer. Anna took a long time to answer, staring at Frankie as she contemplated her answer.

“Yes,” Dryst said, cutting into the conversation, “because at that level, the level that the wand produces, they cannot be considered anything more than a manifestation, a phenomena of elemental convergence. They barely exist at all, and only through extremely careful and diligent effort could they ever grow into anything worthwhile. Mourning one would be like mourning a cyclone. This conversation is pointless, and neither one of you are qualified to be speaking about the elements.”

At some point, Frankie had warped his form to become a fat version of Dryst, and was jiggling around and openly mocking the Music Elemental. Dryst ignored him.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“I don't know dude,” Ben said, looking at Frankie and then looking at Dryst, “he seems pretty real to me.”

“I can assure you he is as real as a whirlpool, and if you stop feeding him energy, his manifestation will cease,” Dryst said, and Ben gave him a strange look.

“Isn't that like, everyone?” Dryst paused, frozen for a moment, then scoffed.

“It's different,” he said, and then exited the conversation, his coloring a bit darker. Ben looked at Anna, then at Dryst.

“Yeah, I'm not convinced,” he said, and then noticed the weapon which was inches away from his face. The weapon looked partly like a fantasy staff for casting magic, and partly like a futuristic energy rifle, and as Ben's attention followed the weapon to its source, he saw it was held by an enormous, rocky being.

“He did a terrible job explaining it, that's for sure,” the creature said softly, “also, move and I blast your [Magical] head right off your shoulders.” Frankie, on Ben's shoulder, startled, and then immediately put his arms up. “My name is Chief Cragg, and you are all under arrest.”

Their entire group was surrounded, and overhead, Ben saw several flying platforms which had uniformed Sunlets, all of whom were pointing weapons at the group. They looked like cops, but their uniforms were green, and these guys looked like how SWAT and FBI looked compared to regular city cops.

“Get on the ground, get on the fucking ground!” one of them shouted at Short Bus, who looked like he wanted to resist arrest. Ben thought that was a terrible idea, and thought it at Short Bus as hard as he could. The shark grimaced and then slowly, defiantly, got on his knees, hands behind his head. One of the cops tackled Ben to the ground, while another of his companions was yelling 'Royal! Royal! Get his crown!', and then Ben felt his crown rudely ripped off of his head. His class, which had been so well behaved ever since he'd gotten all the equipment it required, immediately reared its head like a mean dog that just got woke up from a nice nap.

“Secure the Beyonder! Containment fields now! Stay the fuck back!” An entire team had surrounded Red, all of whom were wearing black or red robes and had various summoned creatures assisting them. Several of the creatures, particularly the demonic looking ones, were visibly afraid of Red, who stood tall and defiant, giving them a look that indicated that she knew them, and they knew her, and they ought to be afraid.

They had caught Ghost Ears with a very large bug net, which Ben imagined was extremely embarrassing, but being [Extremely Tiny] had some pretty obvious drawbacks.

Anna, Thirty-One and Dryst were in formation around Vivi, screaming at the team of giant rockmen.

“This is our lawful bounty, and we've determined he ought to stand trial!” Anna yelled, wincing away from the weapons pointed at her face.

“Get out of the way miss Anna, this is a dangerous criminal and I don't think he needs a trial!”

“Well if you want a fucking problem with my family, then go on ahead and fucking make me move!” she screamed, and the effect was immediate. All the law enforcement, all the adventurers. . . paused for about half a second.

“Why do you have to make this so hard,” one of the Sunlet's in uniform said, holstering his weapon, “secure the Aeon Slug, confiscate the contraband and take that Beyonder to the slaughterhouse-”

“My oh my, by my eyes,” Red said loudly, making everyone jump away from her as she almost literally stared holes into one of the summoners struggling to contain her with magic, “but that cannot be El'ratindis the trickster?” her grin was predatory, and the little imp on the shoulder of the most authoritatively dressed [Summoner] winced at the mention of his name.

“Kill her now!” the little imp, El'ratindis apparently, said, pointing a clawed finger, his yellow eyes bulging out of his red skull.

“Kill me?” Red said imperiously, then threw her head back and cackled, “You little rat, you think you can end the Daughter of Chaos through trickery? I've just ended your mistress, she said, then pulled the little bottle of shadows out and shook it mockingly

“Put down the artifact! Put it down right now or we shoot!” one of the cops said, all of them taking a step back from Red and her mysterious bottle of shadows. The imp, El'ratindis started screaming about how Red was a murderer. Then, Red started screaming about how she was a murderer, and how she was going to murder El'ratindis.

While the exchange between Red and El'ratindis was going on, the summoners were speaking quietly to one another, speaking with their various and fucking weird looking familiars. One of them broke formation and rushed over to Chief Cragg, whispering something to him and then rushing back to try and contain Red.

“Scratch that,” the head cop said, pointing at Red, “take her to the courthouse to be judged. Let them sort this Beyond damnned mess out,” he muttered, “I fucking hate politics.”

The excitement died down, and the group was stripped basically naked. Every piece of equipment that Vivi and Red had ethically sourced from The Beyond and its denizens via [System Looting], was confiscated. Well, actually, it was a little more complicated than that, because apparently pretty much all of that equipment was cursed, and extremely difficult to remove.

“Pull!” a cop shouted while they tried to remove Short Bus's cursed leather pants, all while Short Bus made his body as limp and difficult to deal with as possible. The pants clung to his skin like a second layer of skin, and a sunlet in a white outfit stood over the proceedings with a censer of incense, chanting pleasant sounding words in a weird foreign language, and pouring what Ben assumed was blessed oil on Short Bus's pants.

Then, Short Bus started thrashing around and saying 'I see demons! I see demons!', and then imitating the priest's words while he attempted to remove the pants. Short Bus was clearly acting as far as Ben was concerned, but the priest seemed to take it seriously. Meanwhile, Short Bus's bow had been submerged in a tough looking metal barrel of blessed oil, which now bubbled and boiled from contact with the unholy thing.

Ben had been stripped naked, all his gear confiscated. Truth be told, his robe and scepter had seen much better days, and were already junk. Plus, being totally naked was, at this point, no longer even registering on the radar for Ben. He would, he assumed, at some point, get some clothes.

Several Aeon Slugs, who had come out of nowhere once it was clear there was no danger, had surrounded Vivi and were grilling him with questions, probing him rudely with weird looking magic/science instruments and saying things like 'where is the pure beast' and 'where are the plants' and 'do you have any left' and 'if you give me some I can get you out of this', but that last part was met with immediate in-fighting.

“What the fuck,” Ben said, watching as the Aeon Slug law enforcement started squabbling among themselves.

“You're a [Prince], right? Prince Ben?” Chief Cragg said to Ben, also watching the fighting Aeon Slugs, “Word of advice, since you're new to The World, and to Solas, and because if Miss Anna is to be believed, you're a decent person; if you know anything about that Purebeast, keep it to yourself. If you've got anything from that Purebeast, get rid of it as soon as you can. Some very powerful people have come out of the woodwork, and they're whipped into a frenzy.”

“What's a Purebeast,” Ben said, and Chief Cragg grinned the grin of a crooked cop, his mouth pebbly and enormous.

“Good boy,” he said and gently slapped Ben on the back, which still winded him, “I don't need this kind of trouble in my city right now, not with The Ultima Trials. Abyss, but the fucking trials. Say, you don't have anything to do with that, do you?”

“Nope,” Ben said honestly.

“Good. You humans sure know how to shake things up, I tell you,” he said, then walked off and started yelling at the Aeon Slugs, who were about to come to violence. Vivi watched it all, and Ben could tell that all he was thinking about was how he was twice the size of the other Aeon Slugs, and feeling superior for it. There was a sudden 'pop', and all eyes turned to Short Bus, who was no longer wearing pants.

“Oh, I feel better now,” Short Bus said suddenly, immediately dropping the act as soon as the pants were gone. The cops glared at him, and the priest was breathing hard.

“That was decently cursed!” he said, then deposited the pants into another barrel of holy oil, which sizzled and popped upon contact with the pants. Red was contained inside of an enormous red pentagram, and looked bored mostly.

Anna's group was some distance away, and was currently getting the warm blanket and hot chocolate treatment from law enforcement. Ben's stomach growled, and all he could think about was how he hoped Solas's jail had actual food, and how he hoped Solas's jail was nicer than the Citadel of Horrors.

What happened next was entirely procedural and followed the universal pattern of getting arrested. Ben's group was restrained with magic, their hands and feet bound together to prevent sudden dangerous movement, and they were marched onto one of the large floating platforms Solas's police had used to fly in on. The platform was roughly an oval, large enough for twenty people to stand on comfortably, and the floor was almost entirely transparent crystal. Ben's party was in the center, and they were surrounded by no less than ten cops, who stood around the edge of the platform.

“Clear for takeoff,” someone said, and without a sound, the platform rose into the air and started flying towards Solas. The landscape rushed under him, and Ben felt a thrill as it did so. Short Bus was staring straight down and started swaying, looking like he might be sick.

“Just shut your eyes,” Ben said, and Short Bus said 'Ok' and didn't shut his eyes, staring at the ground. “Dude, I swear to God if you puke on me we're going to have a problem,” Ben said, and Short Bus said 'Ok' and kept staring at the ground, looking a little green in the face.

“No talking!” someone shouted.

“Shut your eyes, you're making yourself sick,” Ben hissed.

“I feel fine,” Short Bus said, a hazy 'I'm totally about to puke' expression on his face.

“Can someone get him a blindfold,” Chief Cragg said, looking at Short Bus and shaking his head.

“I don't need it!” Short Bus said, then gagged a little.

“He needs it,” Ghost Ears said from his little cage, which Chief Cragg was holding. One of the cops came over and blindfolded Short Bus, who immediately got better.

Crisis averted.

Solas below them was a city so thick and tall that Ben could only see the tops and sides of buildings, the ground, the streets, were hidden. Everything looked clean, a mixture of sleek composite materials and living wood that blended together seamlessly, a happy marriage of biology and technology. The color palatte of the city seemed to be whites, blues, greens and purples, with occasional splattering of oranges, yellows and reds.

At their height and speed, Ben had a hard time making out individual details, but what he saw made him feel satisfied. Even if he died here, he felt like at least he'd seen something truly amazing before he went.

They landed in front of a single story building that occupied what looked like four city blocks, sitting right in the middle of them, surrounded by well manicured grass. Statues of dwarves with their hammers raised to the sky lined the walkway to the building, in front of which was a statue of a blindfolded woman sitting cross legged, holding a set of empty scales high in front of her while her blindfolded eyes were pointed at the ground.

“Huh, imagine that,” Ben said, looking at the familiar image.

They were unloaded from the platform and the party was split, each one of them being led in a different direction. Ben watched them go, feeling not uneasy, but at a minimum sad. He was led down a set of stairs and into a room filled with jail cells.

“Don't cause trouble,” the cop said as he unlocked a cell and indicated Ben should go into it, “and don't rile your cellmate up. We've had enough problems with him. And don't make any damn wishes either,” he said, grumbling and pushing Ben inside.

“Sure thing,” Ben said, then he stopped dead when he saw who his cellmate was.

“Jameson!” Namey said, springing up from his lounging position and rushing over to give Ben a big hug, “Old buddy! Say, mind wishing us out of here? Free of charge, I promise!” Ben groaned and put his face into his hands.

“I wish,” he started to say, going to say something sarcastic and bitter, but then caught himself with a start, “uh, nevermind.”

“I wish uh nevermind!” Namey said, springing to action and snapping his fingers. Nothing happened, so Namey snapped his fingers again and again, several times in a row, before he saw the exhausted look of anger Ben was directing at him. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding!” Namey said, laughing and pretending it was a joke.

He did, however, snap his fingers one final time when he thought Ben wasn't looking.

“Fucking void souls,” Ben said, then sat down somewhere and shut his eyes. The silence lasted exactly three seconds before Namey started talking.