They waited at the docks for a few days before giving up. Ethermancy simply didn't work, and the last coal-powered steamboat had absconded with Sir Zachary the Knight of Summer on a journey to the north. Without boats and without trains, the last remaining option was old-fashioned donkeys. It was those horrible, ungrateful beasts that carried Seth and Quinn through eastern Lyn.

Finally, Maxius announced that his aura was working again, and they made their way north to the Ash Sea, where they finally managed to book passage on a steamboat to the city of White Chasm. The journey took three weeks, and because there were no eligible females on the craft, Maxius and Seth spent the time gambling. Quinn hid below decks and worked on the design for his flying machine. In spite of his unrelenting attention, he was unable to divine the cause behind the chaotic and unexplained nose-dives that plagued the kite.

It was a clear day when the steamboat arrived. Quinn had heard the stories, and he had read several books on the topic, but nothing had truly prepared him for his first fleeting glimpse of the greatest city in the world. White Chasm, the domain of the Flame Keepers of House Aden.

A thousand feet high, facing each other, the cliff faces created a winding chasm between them, vanishing into unseen darkness. Between the two great bluffs, countless bridges spanned the void, connecting ledges and small spires. The bridges were so dense and so chaotic that they blocked the view. Up and up and up they went, all the way to Hightown, and the University Fjord. Far beyond, framed by the two jagged bluffs, Spire Lyn rose up into the sky, ringed with emerald bands. The bowl-shaped city at the very top gleamed white and gold. The home of the oculomancers, naked against a sapphire sky.

The steamboat chugged across the harbor toward White Chasm. A massive wrought-iron boom spanned the harbor, connected to ancient stone castles attached to either bluff. The long beach at the base of the bluffs glowed like a golden bracelet, illuminating a horizon framed by dark cliffs and even darker water. When the steamboat came close, they flew the flag of the Theocracy of the Lawgiver. The boom lowered and allowed them to pass.

Heritor Maxius the Younger strode onto the deck in triumph. He wore dark green robes ornamented with a grid of alternating gold squares. He had doffed his wig, revealing the natural hair that had grown in the weeks since it was shaved. It was short and stubby, but dark and masculine, and the Heritor's face was filled with pride. This was unexpected, because Maxius had spent most of the voyage being looted by Quinn's brother in games of chance.

"The greatest city in the world," Maxius announced. "I am of course talking about Lawgiver City. White Chams is a distant second."

Quinn decided not to take the bait. Maxius was just being facetious, and even Quinn knew that. However, Seth must have caught the discomfort in Quinn's face, because he said: "That's not what I've heard. Lawgiver City has changed names at least once."

"Exactly!" Quinn added. "The city, nation, and spire all shared the name. The ancient land of Renna."

"Do you want to know a secret?" Maxius asked conspiratorially.

Both Seth and Quinn huddled in to listen.

"I was not supposed to tell you this until after I spoke with King Edwin, but now that we have arrived at White Chasm I figured I'm close enough. My father wants to revive the old House Renna."

"Isn't Renna dead?" Quinn protested.

"Oh yeah, dead dead. The Bloodraker ripped Renna's throat out after the war. My father says it's symbolic. He wants to send a message to the Elder Saint that Renna's dream is still alive. Besides, the men in my bloodline were always simply named 'Maxius,' or 'Darius,' or 'Darren.' For the first time since the war, we will take a house name for ourselves. If only as our final act of defiance before the Elder Saint replaces us as Heritors."

"There's no reason to count yourself out just yet," Seth said. "Once you have our flying machine, you'll be able to challenge the witches even in their spires."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

This seemed to be the proper response, because Maxius beamed. "I think that's what my father wants," he said. "It's just a bunch of women. How dangerous can they be? They hide at the top of their spires, but if we had flying machines, we could reach them easily."

Seth and Maxius continued to argue the relative merits and advantages of the opposite sex as the steamboat barreled toward the gleaming coast. Quinn lost interest, though he did find the idea of a Great House quite appealing. Wouldn't it be nice, he reasoned, to grant your name, wealth, ideas, and methods to your sons and grandsons forever? In the absence of some higher power, like the Elder Saint and her oculomancers, such transfer of knowledge and money between generations would be the only method available to a bloodline desiring a path forward in the great tournament of power-hungry bloodlines.

The boat swung heaven-ward toward the loading platform, parallel to an indigo navigation light, and the pilot hopped overboard to moor the craft to the piers with ropes. Lowtown White Chasm stretched out before them, squashed like a sandwich between the bluffs and sinking into the mud. Lowtown stank, as if all the cesspools of Hightown were allowed to flow down into the chasm to infect the lower castes.

The trek through the bridges and gantries of White Chasm was a long one, and Quinn's knees hurt after just a few bridges. Seth plowed ahead, leaving Quinn and Maxius behind. All around was evidence of civilization, ancient civilization. Buildings were carved into the sheer face of the cliffs. Buildings that were hundreds, perhaps thousands of years old, grasping the slippery edge of stone ridges. By the time they reached midtown, the sky above was filled with stars. The day's fog had deposited a fresh coating of snow on the upper portion of the western bluff, and Quinn instantly understood why the city earned the name White Chasm. It was literally a chasm plagued with snow, bathed in hoary white.

Maxius wanted to stay in a church, and Seth wanted to stay in a brothel. The two men met in the middle and decided to stay the night in a tavern. The next morning, they traversed the great bridges spanning the chasm. By trusting Maxius, perhaps because of his practiced and unassailable navigation skills, or perhaps because of his choice of taverns, they ascended without incident. Quinn's knees felt weak when he crested the cliffs and entered into the University Fjord that afternoon.

Vast hills rolled to the south, glowing green, reflecting and accentuating the greenhouse bands of Spire Lyn. Massive snow-clad peaks arced over the fjord, creating snowy shadows in the dark places where the sun could not reach. The University Fjord was filled with bushes of all colors. Red, purple, blue, green, yellow, orange, juxtaposed against the brilliant white snow and absolute darkness.

Hightown stretched south to north, crowning both the eastern and the western bluffs. The walled mansions and estates, pale and brilliant, looked down upon the lesser tiers of the city with contempt. But to the south, up along the slope of the fjord, the path wove through the grasslands and snowfields to a cluster of ancient buildings. A huge purple crystal tree rested in the center of the University town, glistening in the sunlight, lazily depositing sleet and rainbows into the airy sunlight.

"That is the bank," Maxius said. "That huge purple tree. That is where the oculomancers dish out auras to prospective students."

"What kind of a tree is that?" Quinn asked, genuinely curious.

"It was constructed with ethermancy," Maxius replied. "Stone, fire, and lightning combined into a specific ratio by Sophia." The man exploded into a fit of coughing. "Or perhaps Annatiki Marunavi the Bloodraker," Maxius continued. "If she was alive when the tree was made. Certainly not Renna or Lyn, otherwise the tree would be dark green. If Fiona made it, then it would be dark blue. If Diana made it, then it would be gold."

"I recognize those names," Quinn said. "Those are all the names of witches, right?"

"Those are the names of spires," Maxius corrected. "Who knows if there are witches with those names at the top. Either way, I don't think humans can create trees like that."

"Are you saying that the witches are not human?" Quinn asked.

"The ones from the stories are not human," Maxius replied. "They are something older, or newer, depending on the source. They are descended from the mortal spawn of some scaly lizard race. They seem to be able to breed with humans well enough though. My own bloodline descends from Renna, which is why my hair and eyes are both green."

"And what about our eyes?" Seth asked. "Me and my brother both have the same eyes. Are we descended from Renna too?"

"Lyn most likely," Maxius said. "Though I've never read an accurate history of your homeland so I cannot say for certain. The Aden clan stands out because of their blue eyes and raven-dark blue hair. If I had to guess, they are related to Fiona of the Morning Mist."

Maxius pointed up to the west, at a massive stone spine that hid the horizon, bending upward to follow the join between mountain and fjord.

"The Adens live there," he said. "Their palace is somewhere beyond that ridge. They lord over White Chasm from the Hanging Throne, their ancient family seat. They have owned and operated the University of White Chasm for as long as anyone can remember."

"Is that where King Edwin lives?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, and another Aden as well," Maxius said. "Her name is Heritor Claire. Princess Claire Aden."