It’s not a tower. It’s a city.

After several hours of hiking, the single column grew, turning into a slew of structures that poured over the horizon. It also becomes apparent that this tower is far greater than one I encountered and that the tall spire reaching up into the sky is just a fraction of the massive city.

It takes a great amount of travel before I can make out clearer details. The outer rim is comprised of tightly connected buildings. I can’t see any gaps from my current distance, only the subtle varieties of different structures. The row of buildings behind the outer rim are similar, as is the row behind that, and the one behind that, on and on. Each ring of structures rises higher than the last until the tapering peaks culminate in a tower spire that looms above the rest. The whole ensemble is a picturesque arrangement of alabaster blanketed by the pure blue sky

By the time the sun dips low, the gap between me and the city has narrowed to a dozen dunes.

I hunker duck against the sloping sand, moving carefully as I observe the walls. I can feel nerves eating at my thoughts. At first, I’d assumed the city would be abandoned like the tower, but as the visible structures increased so did my hope of finding people…and the creeping possibility that mouthless humanoids might be those people. The group I’d left unwaveringly avoided the border, but who’s to say the next group would be the same?

My gaze snakes up the wall, checking for movement. The search is slow and long. Even the structures at the edge of the city are clearly taller than the tower and they’re only a fraction of the spire’s height.

A thought pops up as I stare at them. It takes a second for the word to settle and then I’m grimacing at the memory.

Ah… I hope there are elevators. I won’t survive that many stairs.

The closest structure towers overhead, promising the most horrendous climb imaginable, and I wonder if there are no walls because the buildings themselves are a line of defense. Their face is smooth, with no clear handholds and a quick scan of the closest structures shows no break between buildings.

Well, sitting here’s not going to help me get inside.

I slink toward the walls. The light of both moons reflects off of the white stone, illuminating the worn edges of the brick. I run my fingers across the ridges, noting the smooth grooves of the stone.

I follow the perimeter, hand running along the wall, feeling for any cracks that might indicate a door.

An hour later it feels like I’ve made little progress. I’m quite a ways from my starting point, but I’ve barely covered a fragment of the border. I huff a breath. There better be more than one door in this wall, otherwise I’m going to be super annoy— Oh!

My finger catches on a ridge and I step back to take it in.

It takes a second under the moonlight, but I make out the outline of a door. I run my fingers across its surface, catching a groove and hooking my fingers under the lip to tug. The door opens with a hiss, sliding softly across the sand. Inside is an empty room.

A tiny bit of light filters in through the open door, but there are no windows that I can see. There are no shelves or benches like there were in the tower, only walls.

I step in, running my fingers along the stone to search for another groove. The door I find is easier to open than the first. There’s a ladder, and a glance up reveals an opening several stories above.

I climb quickly, eager to get out of the darkness, and enter another room. This one is larger and open windows dot the far wall. Light filters inside, and it’s brighter than I think it should be, considering how close the buildings appeared. So I ignore the contents of the room and step towards the windows

What I see is shocking.

It’s… a cavern. Tall, thin pillars are scattered across the expanse. Each pillar connects to the bottom of a building, their heights tapering upward in parallel with the roofs above. The effect is what looks like a hollowed out dome – the pillars are columns of dripstone, and the bottom of buildings are their ceiling. The floor is terraced, dropping elevation in a continuous dip towards the center. Intricate patterns are carved into the stone and among the designs are trenches, carved into the terraces and following them to a large pool of liquid in the middle of the cavern. Well, considering my distance, it’s more of a lake than a pool, and while it’s impossible to tell from here, the color makes it likely that it’s water

The mysterious light is inside it, ascending from the water to the base of the spire. The pillar is a mass of illumination, possibly purely light and not stone at all. The intensity is enough that I can easily make out the buildings on the opposite side of the city.

“Wow…this place really is huge.”

And thankfully, due to the open space, it’s unlikely that I’ll get lost

I want to immediately explore, itching to map out the trenches and patterns, and discover if the lake really is water. But first, I should survive.

At first glance, and after studying the domed space, there are no signs of life in this place. Thankfully, that means no humanoids. Unfortunately, it also means no allies, or as I’ve been craving…alternate food choices.

“Which means I should get more sand before wandering off.” I’d been hoping for some variation in my diet.

Well, maybe I’ll stumble across something.

I hustle down the ladder, exiting the city to the dunes outside. First, I fill up my leech of a bag, and with the expectation that it might eat the granules before my next meal, I stuff a couple handfuls in my jean’s pockets. I don’t need much to sustain myself, and the pocket portions alone could get me through a month of meals.

Not that I plan to stay that long, especially if the city is empty. Finding people is my highest priority after survival…unless those people are creepy humanoids. In that case, literally anything else is better.

When I return to the large room I take time to look around. There’s no immediate path into the cavern, nor any signs of food.

And interestingly enough, compared to the tower the room looks distinctly foreign. There are odd hills and depressions in the walls that don’t make sense to me. Dead symbols are littered around window frames and jutting shapes, but they don’t reveal any purpose. And a quick touch doesn’t even give a flicker.

Is this a home? An overlook? Storage?

I wander around for a bit more before discovering an opening. The door is tucked into the corner of the room and a peak inside shows a ladder leading down. The journey is quick and after a short jaunt down a hallway I stumble into the open cavern. The immenseness is even more startling at the edge of the expanse. The details on the floor are clearer here. There’s a hypnotic swirl to them that makes the patterns feel ethereal and my heart swells with excitement.

I’m tempted to explore again, and barely reign in it with the thought that food is unlikely to be lying in the open of the terraced floor. Instead, I steady my resolve and turn to search the nearest building.

The next dozen or so structures are like the first – empty. Two are familiar, with benches, shelves, and counters, while the others are models that I don’t recognize. There’s no food, no water, literally nothing that isn’t attached to a wall. It’s so bare that I’m tempted to think the former residents did nothing but sit around. But, I’m reminded of the items I found in the tower, which means there had to be something here.

Even more frustrating, aside from the room I came from, I can’t find a way past the first floor. And considering the way the city is structured, I’m limited to exploring the outer ring of buildings. I start to wonder if this place holds anything of worth when I stumble across an oddly shaped door.

It’s immediately clear that this is different from anything I’ve seen so far. The frame is shaped like a circle, but like the bottom couple of feet are buried beneath the ground, giving it a sort of arched shape. There’s no handle that I can see, but there are symbols carved into the perimeter that give off a faint glow.

“Not that it’s going to work.”

Still… I reach out and touch it.

The script pulses, and a blast of air ejects from the frame. The wind kicks up my cloak and my blond hair flutters around my face. The door hisses, then swings inwards with a whine.

Oh. Okay then.

I fight a grin, giddy that something different is happening. I’m probably just going to find empty walls. I prepare myself for it. Still, I step into the room with a little skip and stumble to a halt at what I see.

The room is circular with a pedestal in the center and little notched windows in the ceiling that let in streams of light. It gives the room an iridescent glow that pulls the eyes to the pedestal, but it’s the walls that I focus on. Because there are shelves – FULL shelves!

Yes, yes, yes, yes, YEEESSS!

And the loot I’m most excited about?

Books! Actual information-holding books!

Or at least I’m assuming. They look like books from my angle, all stacked neatly together on the shelves. If they’re not books then this room is going to be a huge letdown.

Opposite the books is another set of shelves, this one holds assorted sticks, like the one I found in the tower, except there’s also one propped up against the wall that clearly resembles a sword.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

I want to go towards the sword immediately, if only to settle myself, but take the time to circle the room, noting the rest of its contents.

Past the books are more of the small white objects I encountered in the tower. Several are ones I haven’t seen before. Past that are containers, all opaque and obscuring the nature of their contents. Another section holds some sort of fabric…hopefully clothes. I can feel the sand adhering to my jeans. And the final shelves contain familiar vegetation – the blue flowers. They’re in little pots of azure sand, overgrown, and flowing out of their containers. The leaves and vines avoid the walls and floor, creating a sort of vertical forest.

All-in-all, this room is a treasure trove.

It’s odd though. Why is this chamber untouched when every other building has been empty? Even the tower was mostly bare. So…why not this one?

With no clear way to answer, I table the question. Instead, I move to the books where hopefully all my answers lie.

The first book I pull off the shelf is different than my expectations. The cover is hard, almost like plastic. There’s a symbol on the bottom of the spine, but otherwise no decoration or inscription. I flip it open and the pages have a crisp quality to them. They’re not quite paper – and that memory comes hard, sort of swirling in my brain for a moment – but like a flexible film. Inside, scrawled across the pages in vertical lines, are symbols.

“…I can’t read these.”

That’s… extremely disappointing.

I pull out a couple more books but find the same problem.

I sigh. The entire weight of my excitement was banking on these being readable. I wanted information, about the world I’m in, the monsters I might encounter, anything at really to shed some light on my circumstances. And what do I get? Books… that I can’t read.

Well, maybe I can figure it out? It’ll take some time, though hopefully not a lifetime, and I could get the gist of it. A better idea would be finding someone who could do it for me. I sigh helplessly, reminding myself that there’s a sword in this room and that’s pretty awesome.

The books I pile in a stack. Right now, they’re nothing but dead weight.

I tug my bag off my shoulder and check its contents. It’s empty again. It might actually be storing things, which is what I expect, but just in case it’s an incinerator I take a moment to ponder my options before taking the next step. As much as I’d like to have these books around, readying myself to learn, I can’t afford the extra weight. So far I’ve spent more time running from danger than finding people who might read, which makes the decision for me.

I throw the books inside and flip the lid closed. A couple of minutes pass and I open it again. The books are still there.

“Never want to cooperate, do you?”

I leave the bag by the bookshelves and move toward the weapons.

I’m using the term loosely because, except for the sword propped against the wall, they’re all white sticks of varying sizes. In a desperate situation, they can all be used as weapons, but the sword is definitely the most promising.

I reach out and grab the hilt, surprised by how light it is. The grip is firm and flairs into a pommel that stabilizes my grip. A crossbar fits other end of the stick before the hilt dissolves into a long crystalline blade.

Wow. It’s actually a sword. I mean, I was hoping I’d find something to fight off danger, but this…

There’s a stir inside of me as I hold it. I feel a sort of tingling joy, like somewhere in my buried memories a dream has been fulfilled. I understand the practicality of it immediately. And more beautifully, this is the first loot that I know without a doubt how to use. There’s a quiver of knowledge, a bit hazy and reluctant, but I gather that my awareness of swords is more than passing familiarity and I grin at the thought.

I had a way to defend myself. Finally!

I give it a couple of experimental flicks before reluctantly leaving it beside the bag. A quick check shows the books are still inside so I move to the jars.

I grab a container off the shelf and pop the lid. Immediately a putrid stench wafts out and I drop the jar. It hits the ground with a solid clink and spins across the floor. I scramble after it, wrinkling my nose against the stench. I sigh in relief as I wrestle the lid back on.

My stomach rolls and I fight the encroaching nausea.

“Uuugh…”

I really don’t want to puke.

Who knows what regurgitated blue sand looks like, but at the very least I don’t want to add to the smell.

“I should…check…another one…”

The survivalist in me says yes. My olfactory senses are shouting no.

But I don’t have a lot of options in this forsaken place.

I pop the lid on another and immediately close it when a wave of stench pours out. Either what’s inside is rotten or it’s supposed to smell like that. I try two more, just to make sure, and end up curled on the ground trying not to throw up.

“Oh noooo…”

My stomach lurches and I grit my teeth. This room is the worst. This room is the worst!

It takes a few minutes, and I crawl back to my bag and slump against the wall. I expect a full recovery is close at hand, but I decide to give my senses a break and utilize the time to disappear some books. I throw in several rounds over the next ten minutes, lazily scanning the room.

The light dances across the white brick of the walls and I blink my eyes against its waves. Eventually my gaze rests on the pedestal.

It’s white, unsurprisingly, and sort of resembles… resembles… Hmm… what was it?

I poke around for a moment before the image floats into mind. A Roman pillar. A Roman Doric specifically.

There’s nothing on top of the crest. It’s just a pillar, spotlighted in the wavering glow.

I consider investigating it immediately, but my stomach is still roiling. I stay with the books, plopping them in one stack at a time.

If this bag turns out to be a glorified trash compactor, I’m going to be deeply disappointed.

The books are half gone when I stumble to my feet and towards the pedestal.

I run my hand over the top and symbols that I didn’t see flare up. There’s a puff of air, subtle compared to the ejection from the door, but it’s accompanied by a whine. The noise is quiet at first, but then it grows, louder and louder. It fills up the space, making it feel like an echoing shriek ricocheting against the walls.

I clamp my hands over my ears, trying to keep out the high-pitched screech. It hurts. It feels like it’s tearing at my eardrums and I suck in a breath.

Then it’s gone.

The lights on the pedestal die with the noise and my hands shake.

“This room…really is…the worst.” Also full of surprises – not all of them good.

I glance around at the walls, looking for some sort of change, but nothing seems off. The shelves haven’t moved and neither have the little windows.

It’s puzzling. Is the pedestal broken or something? Was there not enough energy?

I do a thorough search of the room, finishing off the bookshelf between close inspections, but nothing is different.

A bit of a letdown really.

I abandon the search, not really wanting to activate it again, even by accident. My ears still sting, and I rub at them as I start plopping tiny white objects into my bag. I wait for it to cycle through and turn to the fabric. There are clothes, thankfully. At least a dozen sets of black and white shirts and pants. There are no designs on the fabric, just a plain sheet of color. The shirt somewhat resembles a tunic, or if I’m being honest, pajamas. The pants are the same, loose and flowy. Still, any clothes are welcome.

I decide I’ll dunk myself in the lake at the first chance I get and switch my outfit then. No need to get sand where it doesn’t need to be.

Another batch of white objects is thrown in the bag and I move on to the plants.

I’m going through the room pretty quickly, but the ear-piercing whine had made me more cautious and I’m eager to put this place behind me.

The flowers look mostly harmless, but I’m still careful. They’re smaller than the ones outside the tower, a third of the size I think. The vines are thinner and reedy, but with the thick forest curling away from the wall it feels more difficult to maneuver. I only hesitate a moment before I wrestle a little pot free. It takes the sword, which slices through the vines like butter, and some aggressive pruning, but I manage to acquire an independent flower and stuff it into my now empty bag.

The satchel is disappearing items almost instantly now, and it makes me wonder if it’s about to shut off or it’s nearing capacity. Or more likely, it’s being temperamental. I give it a firm glare before capitalizing on the newfound ability. I quickly finish off the shelves of white oddities, and then stuff in half of the jars.

I grin wryly as I imagine throwing one at the wolf. Let it get a whiff of that!

From there I stuff in every set of clothes, holding back one at the last second to wear later. The sticks take a little maneuvering. The short ones drop in easily, but the longer staffs require creative finagling. One, I have to stretch the bag around, to the point that the satchel looks more like the stick itself than a sack. By the time I’m done, all that’s left in the room are flowers sitting on the shelves and the sword lying on the ground.

Well…

I stuff the rest of the flowers in too.

The bare room resembles all the others in the city and I feel satisfied with my loot. Now all I need to do is get my bag to give them back and I’ll be rolling in treasure.

Not that I’m in a hurry. Most of the spoils are still useless. But maybe this city holds the key to that. If I can figure out how to make them work and maybe even decipher some of these symbols, I could drastically improve my chances.

I use the pants to tie the sword around my waist, carefully adjusting the unsheathed blade, and tie the tunic around my head. Once I’m adequately hands-free I sling the bag over my shoulders and leave the room without a backward glance.

The street gleams a little brighter when I step out and I wait for my eyes to adjust, acclimating after my time in…whatever that room was. I blink away the glow and gaze toward the pillar of light.

If my goal is to get my loot working I might as well start with the one thing in this city that’s working already.

I glance around, tagging nearby features so I know where to return to, and start across the open cavern.

There’s a pathway of bricks that runs toward the center of the dome and I beeline toward it, climbing over several trenches and twisting patterns in my path.

My eyes flicker to the raised buildings as I walk. I imagine there must be some sort of force at work because each pillar’s diameter is a fraction of the structure it supports. Arched bridges curve from one house to the next, acting as a thoroughfare. There’s no street to connect buildings, at least not up there.

“Amazing…”

I try to remember if I’ve seen something like this before, but nothing comes to mind, even when I poke around a bit.

Fascinated, I take everything in as I follow the path down the terraces. Each new floor drops into another, intricate patterns weaving through the stone. The trenches continue alongside the path and I wonder if they once held water that trickled into the lake below. It's beautiful, and the farther in I go the more I’m awestruck by the majestic space.

I’m still far from the center when something catches my attention. It’s small, just in the corner of my vision and I spin towards it, senses on alert.

I don’t see it right away, scanning the city as I try to determine what tipped me off. It’s only when I turn to continue that I catch it again.

It looks like…

Hmm...

It looks like a distortion, like a subtle scratch against the backdrop of the city.

It’s a ways off and considering the size of the cavern, a sizable detour, but... it’s not like the light is going to leave if I wander off a bit.

It takes me thirty minutes, and the closer I get the clearer it is that something’s strange. I can’t even pinpoint what’s amiss. It’s just the same expanse of open brick, but it looks warped, like the straight line of stones are broken and slanted before righting themselves.

I’m nearly on top of it I step sideways, trying to make out the cause, and the sight startles the breath from my chest. I can’t suppress the shock.

The air is broken, split open and torn into a jagged shard of glass. It’s twice my height and three times as wide, warping the space in a way that shouldn’t be possible. I know it’s not possible.

I know.

But what’s behind the glass shakes me harder, because it’s the same brick floor I’m standing on but… there are people walking on it. There are plants growing along the terrace, and wooden buildings are built up in rows. The same raised structures float in the sky beyond, but they’re covered in greenery, and the light shining through the cracks looks more like sunlight than the moon-like glow of the pillar.

I realize I’m looking at the city, but it’s like it’s a completely different place – full and teeming with life.

What am I seeing right now?

I step towards it, hand outstretched, curious. I feel sort of giddy, because there are unfamiliar creatures and humanoids walking on that floor, but there are also humans.

The locket is a solid weight against my collar and I surge forward, eager to touch this picture of humanity…only to trip over a brick and lurch forward, pinwheeling toward the slab of glass.

Except…there's no glass.

I fall through the shard like it’s open air, and spill in a heap onto the street. I twist around, trying to right myself and freeze in surprise. There are people walking around me, buildings erected on either side, and actual shouts and trills of conversation.

“What the…”

A furry ball trips over my shoulder and crashes into me. Limbs go everywhere and actual dirt gets kicked in my eyes.

Ah, this is what it feels like to be trampled. I remember now.