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Dark Crow Rising
Incline 15: Cakesmith Liadanann

Incline 15: Cakesmith Liadanann

Vodila quietly whines, her face snuggling into my neck. Whatever just happened, the feeling of the air has changed, it's heavier, oppressively so. Thanks to my time at a school for it, I am aware that this is purely magic in the architecture and in the mountain parts that still remain. I can enjoy the wonder of such engineering feats but I can also easily understand why these little ones prefer playing on the surface.

While every effort has been taken to have plant and animal life down here in the lower city. Mechanical marvels that mimic the Orbital-Halo's daily path and there's clearly an extensive ventilation system to bring in fresh air. The extensive sight of manmade constructs is still briefly passed by the colour of wind magic, all the brighter in this darker world... Despite all of this, I can get why the children want to go up.

The average man is pale, the light here unable to provide anything close to the tans those up top have. The density of internal-magic and how everyone spends all their time around it is exhausting, their eyes shadowed by it. Even the birds that live down here seem unwilling to fly and the few that do reign supreme like bodybuilders amongst the infirm. A heavy bang marks our arrival to the bottom floor.

Gears groan to life and the forward barricade becomes sort of a bridge.

"Come closer, you lot." I urge the children, making sure to grab the few that have devolved into quiet word games. The living cargo of the lift takes off into the streets, men heading back home from work, others who are not so lucky and instead must burden their backs with varied loads. Families gather and wander and when we have the room, I have my group get going. Freedom from the lift sees a general mood change in them, smiles and laughter come back and I gently bounce Vodila, readjusting my grip.

Halting for a moment, I find myself overwhelmed by the background noise of this deep, ominously topped city. Construction equipment of all kinds, with nowhere else to send their noise, is all echoing up and around. No drills are in sight but I can hear them, slowly gnashing away into the earth to make room for more city. Hammers are more like bombs and above, out of reach for the subterranean towers, the frame on which the city turns.

I shiver at the mere thought of anything in this city failing structurally, and yet, with how calm and unbothered even the little children are... I have to wonder, what kind of being could smash apart such a grand design? Despite the whiplash of sound and look I have walked into, builders being such a prominent part of it, the under-city is clean. The people are joyful and well-fed and much like the surface where my oddly comfortable-sounding shop is, there are plentiful men-at-arms.

"Found a new friend, have you children?" one of the city guards greets with a soft smile and wave of his hand, his lack of a rifle catching my eyes the most. Maybe it's a byproduct of Smiling Jhurack mostly being active up top, but, it's so strange to see at worst lightly armed police.

"Yer rightio!" O'Bran chirps, hopping around the man's legs before the two get into a quick kicking game. And, although O'Bran has four to work with, age and size still lend the unspoken victory to the guardsman.

"All right, all right! Of you go, no wearing her out, you hear?" the guard laughs while his partners push him away so they can get back to work, smiles also on their faces. A forest of waving shoots up around me.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"Yes City-Guardsman Obbby!" the children go in unison as he tips his hat once for them and again for me. I give him a smile and come to a stop on the drop from pavement to road, my head turning to one of the children when he tugs my clothes.

"Not long to go now, just a few turns down that way." Kongon explains, his hooves tempting the gaps of a sewer drain. A sight I can't help but raise a brow at as while it has rained heavily recently, how does any of it get down here? The obvious is obvious, but, looking around some more, I can see more and more flood banes.

"Well, I guess the drains up top must all head down here and it's all sprinkled out again and again..." I mutter ponderously, spotting what seems to be a net of thin pipes with flowering sprinklers jotted about. I am increasingly of the feeling that I can move down into this part of the city and still discover new things about it until the day I die of old age. Sons and daughters with my grandkids hopefully having visited recently, Nin at my side...

"Liada." Vodila whispers, bringing me out of my thoughts just in time to watch the kids spread out across the road. Opening my mouth to call out for them, I withhold myself when I notice the complete absence of traffic, animal or otherwise.

"Y-Yes, Vodila?" I ask back, straightening myself out and letting the slight fright tuck itself back into whatever corner it jumped out of.

"Do you wanna to hear a story? It's a fwun one, I promise!" she asks, her voice squeaking at certain points and I give her a big smile.

"Of course, sure, tell me your story." I say, readjusting her into a more comfortable position, eliciting a quick laugh from her. She opens her mouth and goes quiet, her brain clearly not able to keep up with the idea she just had. A hand starts to gently thud my shoulder and I can't help but stifle a giggle while she growls at her failing head.

"Uh... Uh... Uh. Oh, I gots it!" she goes, nothing following. She blinks forcefully, her head twitching a little before she smiles.

"Vodila?" I go, concerned for the little girl who continues to express nothing being wrong.

"Did you like my story?" she asks and I move my head back, a blink or two coming from me.

"You... You didn't tell me one..." I explain, putting a hand to her head to feel if something's off. Nothing seems to be, she's as warm as ever, though, she's starting to laugh.

"You're silly! I never told you a story!" she laughs, hiding her face behind her little hands while I playfully scowl.

"Don't do that, I thought something was seriously wrong." I go with a slightly raised voice which only makes her laugh harder.

"WE'RE HERE!" Vodila's older brother, Wellis, screams with all the air in his lungs and I steadily set Vodila down. My eyes take in the sight, my trolley-holding hand sharply tugging my cargo forward.

It's not an ugly or rundown building by any metric, but, looking back the way we came, it's clear that this place is out of mind. Care, much like a lot of this under-city place, has been put in, the orphanage is surrounded by a field of green grass that admittedly needs a cut. There's a playset in the distance, a path flattened out by the children and I can already spot lost toys hidden amongst the long green. What seems to be an old man is also closing up what must simply be a shed.

"Who's that?" I ask, gesturing one of the older children closer.

"That's Father Vierini, he's a really nice man and he comes by when he can to help out." she explains and another one comes closer, her furry ears picking up on the conversation. She rushes up to us, tail swishing behind and barks happily, waving with all she has in the hope she can get this man's attention.

"What god or goddess is he a priest of?" I ask, the title catching my attention. The one that reminds me of Vadei turns around, her nose twitching with renewed strength while her eyes eye my trolley.

"Undwote, God of Friendship!" she yaps in one go, leaping into the air with stretched-out limbs.