Even knowing the clouds below couldn’t catch him, Gregory still thought they must be the softest, fluffiest cotton that you could feel between your fingers. As he reached a hand out, the cloud was torn open as a patrolling drone emerged from the white fluff. Of course, he couldn’t hear a single sound as it flew well outside the barrier surrounding Meridian Verve, but the constant thrumming of its wingbeats came alive in his mind nonetheless. The sun hung high overhead — eliminating every shadow in sight with its luminescence. Gregory stared at its impossible brightness without squinting. Apparently, people on the ground had no such luxury as the light from the sun would scorch one’s retinas without the barrier to filter it.
Rising from the cool marble steps, Gregory walked to the edge of the glass balcony and looked across the chasm of sky below toward the market district. Amongst the marble streets, and contrasting with the vibrant, colorful banners, was a beautiful woman with a quad of Quartz Soldiers following behind her. Her bronze skin glowed as majestically as the gold ornamentation that decorated her bright, aquamarine dress. Hunters and Councilors alike parted ways and bowed to her as she passed.
Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence…
Rushing back inside, Gregory doffed his clothes, and squeezed into the obfuscation and concealment suit. It had cost him nearly two months' allowance, but that was a small price to pay for the treasure that he sought. Many scholars wrote of the various heavens and hells that dotted the many storied history of humanity’s past, but no story could match the real thing.
It’s supposed to last a whole day, Gregory hesitated to activate the suit, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
He rushed to the door, and pressed the panel to open it.
“Oh!” Leilani’s bright blue eyes widened in surprise.
Great… the nosy one…
She was wearing an azure dress that Gregory’s eyes immediately glanced over and put out of mind. With a nervous laugh, Leilani spoke barely above a whisper, “Hi, Gregory…”
“Sorry, Lady Leilani,” he held a hand in front of him, “I have important matters to attend to. We can talk after I’ve finished my duties this evening. Fare thee well.”
“O-oh…!” She stepped aside almost instinctively, and he walked past her. It was better to just talk over the young girl than let her start prattling on about anything and wasting his time.
“Your father said that you weren’t doing anything…” Even at a whisper, her words could carry along the stone walls and, even if they were as light as the air itself, they carried a significant weight that Gregory couldn’t ignore.
Gregory turned on his heel, “As you can see, my Lady, I am dressed for a rather delicate task that requires the utmost concentration and haste. I’m afraid I have no time for spurious conversation. Take care.”
“I…” Her eyes met his only for a moment before she cast them back down at her feet, “I’ll see you this evening, then.”
“By your leave, my Lady,” he gave a curt bow.
Hurry up…! Heaven awaits!
“Take care,” Leilani’s soft voice echoed the solitude of the marble hall, “my precious Hunter.”
Gregory gave another nod, and turned away. Thankfully, he did not hear her steps echoing after him. After rounding a corner, he activated the suit and his footfalls became silent. With a new rush of energy at knowing he was finally free, Gregory raced down the marble halls of the House of Hunters.
Though he hadn’t received his three, Gregory had still been training as a Hunter his whole life. Almost a man, the years of conditioning had refined his body into a machine made for perfect motion. With the autodocs, any painful mistakes were instantly remedied, and his broken bones all the stronger for every misjudged jump and tragic fall. It felt like he was running on clouds, and his every breath was no more than a silent stirring in the air. Not even the Quartz Soldiers took notice of him as he darted into the bowels of the House, with his obfuscation and concealment suit working exactly as intended.
As he stepped onto the maintenance floor, Gregory was forced to take a step back as a machina hovered past with a fleet of tiny drones on its back. A few other machina were milling about, moving fuel rods, construction materials, and whatever else was needed to keep the House of Hunters operational. Gregory carefully strode past them, the feeling of invincibility growing as his plan was all coming together so perfectly.
Finally at a deployment chute, Gregory bit his lip. He’d double checked the specs, and had practiced dozens with a dummy setup in his room, but the chute was only just wide enough for him to squeeze into. It would be dark and cramped, but it was only for a minute or two. And besides, if he got stuck, then he could just deactivate the suit and the machina would come over and free him. Gregory could just activate the suit again and run away.
But it won’t come to that. He took a deep breath, and squeezed in.
The light at the end of the tunnel was small, but bright. Gregory could feel the walls pushing down against him, and quickly let out a breath lest the feeling overwhelm him. As his body relaxed, he could feel the grip of the chute loosening its grip, and Gregory felt a touch of relief at that. All he had to do was keep crawling forward — well, shimmying was more accurate.
It took concentration and effort, and it felt like he had to constantly fight to focus on his goal, as his body yearned to free itself from this metal coffin.
It’s not a coffin, Gregory kept his breathing gradual and steady.
Heaven was so close…! The light of the sun would be warming his face soon enough and all he had to do was gather the will to reach it. The cold darkness around him would be forever forgotten, and he would replace every labor of today with the beautiful, shining memory of heaven.
Fear not, Gregory reminded himself. Though I walk through the valley….
The light grew in Gregory’s eyes, and the numb feelings in his arms and legs began to wane. He was so close to the end that he thought he could feel the gentle breeze of the outside. This, of course, was impossible. With the barrier active, the only weather that could be felt in Meridian Verve was the same pleasant temperate climate. Even so, Gregory’s spirit rose as high as the sun when he finally reached the end of the chute.
Fluffy white clouds rolled below, and Gregory actually felt a spike of temptation to try and dive into them. Freeing his arms from the chute, Gregory shook the numbness from them and repeatedly flexed to get the blood moving once more. After all, he had a time limit, as the gates of heaven would not remain open forever.
Once comfortable, well, as comfortable as someone climbing the underside of a floating city could be, Gregory began his careful trek toward heaven. The architecture of the Meridian Verve was designed to be eye-catching from every angle — even below — so that earthbound men might look up at its majesty and feel the burning desire within their hearts to climb its heights. Luckily, this meant more than enough handholds for Gregory, and even a substantial distance that could be carefully trekked on foot.
Though he had seen the pictures, Gregory had to admit that the foundation under the city was beautiful and truly gave credence to the vision of the city’s founders. Here and there, he’d encounter a gargoyle in a dynamic pose to ward off spectres. Seeing their frightening appearances up close, Gregory could almost believe that they actually worked. Regardless, such distractions couldn’t occupy his mind long as he had to focus on reaching his goal.
One mistake out here would be fatal.
Sure, he may fall through the barrier and be saved by a passing drone, but being on the underside of the city with an obfuscation and concealment suit without permission was social suicide. They would certainly strip him of his privileges as a trainee, and likely condemn him to work as a laborer. Worse, they may even send him to live on the surface. But that was a small price to pay for the chance at reaching heaven.
Gregory finally arrived at his destination. After examining the screwheads on the vent grate, he pulled free his multitool. The air vents in the thermae had fans to pull the humid air out and keep the entire bathhouse from becoming a swamp. However, the private baths for the Spheres had no fans. As the only representative of the Spheres, the Angel would have to prepare for the ceremony tonight.
After pocketing the hex screws and multitool, Gregory slowly pulled the grate free. It was a bit of a tenuous balance to climb into the vent while holding the grate, but he managed to rest it inside behind him. There was no point trying to seal it from within, after all. Compared to shimmying through the deployment chute, the ventilation shaft was practically an open hallway. Gregory could probably even turn his whole body around if he tried. Not that he had any intention to. For Gregory, the only path was forward.
The air became more humid the further he crawled, and the hasty and perilous trek he’d made had already gotten his body worked up into a sweat. But it was worth it. Not everyone got to see an Angel so close — not naked. Gregory’s heart began racing in anticipation.
I am the quiet contemplation of the still waters, he thought to himself, willing his body to calm down. I am the gold bowl in the cold rocks’ hold. His body began to feel light as he freed his mind from the shackles of its perpetual, ever present feeling. I am the void between stars in the long night. Only the certainty of reaching the destination remained of Gregory as his body moved to bring about his will. I am. I was. I will be. The infinite flow of time spilled out in front of him, and he surrendered to its waves, his mind rushing toward the future as his body remained forever in the present — ever alert and ever so still.
Among the highest virtues that embodied the human spirit, there was none more familiar to the Hunter than patience. Some would argue it was independence, or perhaps duty, or prudence, but those were debated only among scholars. Every Hunter born and trained knew how important it was to wait for the right moment. Every mistake made or avoided, every perfect step taken or missed, all of it paled in comparison to the singular moment of truth when your target was finally in sight. Luck very well favored the prepared, but the two most powerful warriors are patience and time.
Hunters mastered both.
Movement… the thought pulled his consciousness back to the moment, and he saw the bronze skinned Angel enter the chamber below. Gregory pressed his eyes against the edge of the vent, prying his eyelids wide as an open sunflower, desperate to drink the light from the image played out before him. The waters stirred from their spigots, steam began to rise from the growing pool, and the Angel began to disrobe.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
The Angel’s visage seared into Gregory’s mind, and his senses burned with an intensity he’d never felt before. The Angel’s bronze skin was a stark contrast with the pearlescent marble; every frame of her shape was a painting on canvas; every graceful step was part of a dance. The exquisite beauty she possessed became the height of perfect form in Gregory’s eyes, and nothing on earth could ever match it.
Red light bled on the walls, and alarms rang out in a cacophony of turbulence. Gregory’s heart leapt to his throat, Is this it? Did they catch me?
The Angel’s chest revealed a tiny bead of light just below the collarbone, and bright blue lines appeared all over her body.
The roar of the alarms disappeared. A rush of air pounded into Gregory’s flesh, launching him down the vent, and he slammed his arms against the walls to keep from being shot out like a missile. Gritting his teeth, he felt the air calm its violence but not fall still. There was a vibrant breeze pulling the heat and sweat from his body, and he could hear the wind howling all around.
Gregory could see brief flashes of azure and crimson light clash at the end of the vent. He pulled himself forward. From the top of the vent, he could see the shattered bath room below. Water poured from the exposed pipes into an endless ocean now revealed by the parted clouds. Chunks of marble and wiring fell from the city and dropped into freefall.
Suspended in a clash of gleaming blades of light were two figures — one Angel, and one not.
Her body shined with a translucent, azure shield that looked to be liquid glass. Parts of it coalesced into shoulder pauldrons, a helmet, shin guards — armor constantly being torn apart and rebuilt between flashes of crimson light.
The opposing figure looked to be half again as tall and wide as the Angel. His face was a skull of metal and exposed circuits, and an ever present grin with too-white teeth. The crimson glow covered him like a gel, and each globule that dripped from him shot out at the Angel in a streak of light.
A rasping laugh erupted from the metal figure, “They should have sent one of the Principalities. Then, it would have been a fight.”
A blade appeared in the crimson figure’s hands, and a terrible wail rang out. Gregory grit his teeth and covered his ears. What in the nine hells is that noise??
Another scream clashed against the chorus, echoing across the sky — liquid azure spilled out like a nebula, as the blade passed through the Angel again and again and again.
In mere moments, the former bath room was covered in an overlapping web of scintillating lines of azure light — the Angel was gone.
Rasping laughter followed in the wake of the fading scream, and a blindingly bright light began to gather in front of the crimson figure.
Gregory felt something hammer his whole body, and the world went dark.
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“Grier…!” something poked him in the ribs.
Gregory opened his good eye to see what rotten shitbag dared to wake him.
Pascal waved a hand, “It’s your shift, man.”
The young man started walking off before Gregory even got up. He wasn’t going to stop him, anyway. Pascal was one of the few people that was willing to talk with him. Rather, listen to him drawl on while he drank himself to unconsciousness. Feeling the strain of old age rattling his muscles, Gregory tried to get up to stretch, but felt a sharp pain in his left leg.
As his hands rubbed against metal, that same sinking feeling dipped his already foul mood further into shit. Fucking decades and I still feel it. Gregory searched the tabletop for any yet unfinished bottles, but every one within reach came up empty. He caught the whiff of something foul, then realized it was his own breath. Fucking gotta go through the autodoc. Probably gingivitis again.
Gregory picked himself up from the corner chair, and nearly stumbled again. Still drunk, Gregory laughed to himself, a guttural growl to anyone else, gotta keep the party going before the hangover sets in. His hands reached out for his good cane, and he grasped the familiar friend in his liver-spotted hands. Limping at a leisurely pace, he made his way through the guardhouse.
Gregory’s first stop was the rec area, which was more akin to his living quarters at this point. The couch had a thousand stains from a hundred different drinks, and a divot that only his ass could fill. There were less empty bottles now — probably Pascal’s doing — but after a full shift, he’d have it looking more like home again. Opening the refrigerator door, Gregory mumbled a dozen different curses under his breath. Fucking empty.
Wanting nothing to do with a hangover, Gregory’s only other option was to use an autodoc. He limped toward the trapdoor leading to the basement, hooked the handle with his cane, and threw it open. Dark as fuck down there. Gregory looked around for a lantern, but couldn't find anything on hand. Mumbling more curses under his breath, Gregory fumbled the buttons on the side of his cane. Finally, it extended just enough to expose a tiny rim of light that shined brightly. Almost too brightly to his maladjusted eye, but he’d have to deal with it for now.
Slowly and carefully, Gregory descended the stairs below ground, and shivered as the temperature dropped by what felt like a dozen degrees. Freeze my fucking balls off before I even get to one! Gregory stumbled through the half-lit underworld, with one hand pressed against the wall for additional support. After nearly losing his breath from the journey, he finally found the master panel, and turned on the lights. The room was illuminated in a soft, warm glow. With a wry grin on his face, Gregory began the process of powering on the autodocs.
Sure the ones in town were free for everyone to use, but Gregory hated those people. Only Petroc and Eligius were worth the time of day, and even then, only on good days. Continuing to flip various switches, and press buttons, Gregory absentmindedly scratched his lower back. This whole process was such a waste of time. They could be running this place around the clock, but were worried about using too much power from the batteries overnight. Nobody even uses the power overnight anyway. It was a waste of his time, but he never got anywhere by arguing with them, so Gregory just let it be.
The autodocs were still churning their vitae, so Gregory was forced to just sit and wait. The dusky lighting could spur the imagination with the way the various buttons and switches would change color. It was enough to make shadows dance along the walls. Haunting visions of the past began creeping all around the basement, and Gregory could hear the whispers in his mind.
The two most powerful warriors are patience and time, Lev would say, Hunters master both.
Would you join me for dinner, Gregory, Leilani’s bright blue eyes would look at him with such adoration.
You were born a Hunter, son, father spoke with such pride in his voice, And you always will be.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” Gregory muttered to the ghosts, “I’ve failed you, father… Leilani… I wasn’t there… Forgive me, please…”
What are you thinking about, she’d look at him with such longing.
“I’m unworthy, my Lady,” Gregory wiped the tears from his eyes.
A droning beep pulled Gregory back into the present. He rubbed a sleeve over his face, wiping away the fluids that had been leaking moments before. Gotta find a fucking drink after this.
He went toward one of the half dozen autodocs in the basement, and began disrobing. The sedatives will keep them away for a time. Gregory stepped into the autodoc, and watched the hatch slowly come down and seal. Can’t dream in here. The small chamber began to fill with vitae. Hurry up, you old piece of shit. There were more shadows moving along the walls outside. He could feel regret stirring in his heart. Fuck it. Gregory dipped his head under the vitae and inhaled. The mixture suffused his lungs, and he felt an instinctive spike of panic as though drowning. However, in just a few seconds, that feeling was washed away by a pleasant warmth and lightness.
It was like he was running on clouds.
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“Do you often get visitors?” Tao asked.
Petroc chuckled softly, “No, not really. We’re not along any trade routes, and don’t have any substantial vaults around here.”
Vaults? The vault in Ur held all of their best extech artifacts. By the sound of it, most vaults weren’t particularly noteworthy. Was this because they weren’t maintained, or were they stolen from? It was probably best not to ask about the trade routes or vaults directly, as that’d be an obvious info grab, but Tao wasn’t sure if she wanted to steer the conversation away from Amon’s Clearing. On one hand, it would be good to know more about the forest around them — on the other hand, they’d be entering town soon, and she needed to make sure that they didn’t make any outlandish faux pas in front of the populace.
“Will we have to stay outside town?” Tao asked.
“You won’t,” Petroc answered. “Some people might feel a bit iffy about three unknown Seekers, but I’ll make sure you girls get someplace comfortable. You deserve it after being stranded in the Wilderness, after all.”
Tao considered pushing the conversation toward that fear-inducing creature they’d encountered in the cave-in. Petroc seemed pretty experienced, and he had a pretty visceral reaction when she’d mentioned the whole ordeal before. However, things were still a little tense, so she thought it best to dial things down. The more rapport she could secure before they were in town, the better.
“It’ll be nice to take a hot bath after so long.” Tao gave Petroc a desperate look, “Please, tell me you have hot water.”
Petroc barked a few laughs at that and nodded his head, “Don’tchu worry, we’ve got plenty. The town has a world class water reclaimer, and we get plenty of power from the nuclear generator. You can spend the whole night in a hot bath if you wanted to.”
“I’m not that spoiled, Petroc,” Tao brushed her hair over her shoulder. “What kind of a girl do you take me for?”
He shook his head as he climbed over a fallen log, “Not spoiled one bit, I bet.”
Petroc offered her a hand up, and she took it while returning his smile, “Not spoiled in the slightest.”
Ertia was far enough away that she could just walk around the log. Tao figured she needed some space for now, but there would have to come a talk at some point to hammer out how they should behave and what kinds of answers they should give when people inevitably start asking them questions. There were too many things about Samsara that remained a mystery, even with the stories to guide them, and already some half-truths beyond that.
“How about food, then? Does Amon’s Clearing also have world class chefs?” Tao smiled mischievously.
“We would hate to disappoint an honored guest such as yourself,” he grinned. “I’ll have the whole town roll out the red carpet for ya. How’s that sound?”
“Don’t forget to heat my bath,” Tao added. She looked toward Ertia, “Well, our bath. My sisters deserve as much as I do.”
“How could I forget?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll remind you.”
Petroc chuckled again and continued leading them forward. Ertia didn’t look to be upset, but she had a habit of bottling up her feelings. She probably felt guilty after Ravi had just forgiven her for losing her temper earlier. Tao wished she could’ve been present for after the fight with the Saratan. She’d have a better read on Ertia’s mood, and the whole situation altogether. Even so, it appeared that whatever Ravi had told Ertia was good enough to assuage the girl’s guilt for now. Tao just knew she’d have to help Ertia sort through her feelings.
“We’re almost at the river,” Petroc said. “I imagine the girls are probably reaching Amon’s Clearing about now.”
Even without the density of trees as the jungles of Ur, Tao could still only see a sea of trees ahead.
“I’m sure Andora will be able to explain things,” Tao offered.
Petroc just hummed in assent. He really should have more confidence in Andora. Maybe it was more from worry than doubt. But even then, Petroc shouldn’t be so concerned. Andora had faced Saratan with Ravi and had come out without a scratch. It probably wasn’t any actual danger that Andora faced in town. It was something else…
Tao looked at Ertia, with her bored expression as she examined the forest around them. Another tell that Ertia was mostly neutral at the moment, and didn’t require much of Tao’s careful attention. Growing up together really provided an easier read on Ertia than Petroc.
Oh…
“You’ve known Andora her whole life, haven’t you,” Tao voiced.
Petroc just sighed in answer.
Andora wasn’t just a friend. She was basically his daughter. That was… definitely useful.