It would be several days to gain an audience with a city magistrate to acquire what I needed for the long journey. In the meantime, I sought out every means of learning of the dangers ahead. I had some scarce knowledge from what Master Rigel and Gereon could provide me, but I knew I had to seize every advantage available to me.

Yet while Berenice directed me to a nearby library, I opted to visit there last. Partly because I suspected I would find nothing but rotting books and tattered parchment. And partly also, I wanted to explore this new city of Terminus while I still had time. It would be too soon that I would depart for the Great Ice Plain, and then onto the barren lands.

Wandering the stone streets, I found myself drawing closer to the Border Wall, built to shield against the winter. Rising steps were carved along the side, and I decided to take my first look at the next land that awaited me. However, it was only on the climb up that I realized my eyes had again deceived me. Far from being a manageable trek, I was not halfway up after an hour of climbing.

I hung onto a thin railing as an icy wind stung my face. I regretted not having the foresight to wear warmer clothes. It is surprising how one quickly becomes accustomed to the warm temperature of Terminus. I had almost entirely forgotten the frozen land surrounding this place. The cold spared me no reprieve, returning with the haste of an unwelcome friend. My teeth chattered, and I hugged myself tightly. Thrice I was tempted to turn back from the miserable conditions, but after enduring so much discomfort, I did not wish to leave this climb with nothing but humiliating defeat.

When I finally reached the top, I was greeted by a flat stretch of metal and snow extending either way into the horizon. Even walking across the top of this great structure was a chore. Thirty minutes passed as I trudged to the other side. But as I grew closer to the edge, the more I quickened my pace. And a few minutes more, I was there, looking over a vastness I scarcely comprehended.

The other side of the Wall had large scaffolding rigged to serve as a harbor, though much of it was long abandoned. I saw great piers of stone reaching out like fingers across the ice. Some still moored the stripped hulls of ships that could once carry tens of thousands of people. Now, the wind shrieked through rusted iron, mournfully wandering past the empty vessels.

The one section of the harbor which still had activity was closer to the ground. There, I saw tiny ants of men working below. Ice skimmers flitted across the Great Plain, which only now did I come to realize was an understatement. The world was one vast sheet of ice that seemed to go on forever. Standing at this great height, I felt nauseous at the immensity. That this was only another leg of the journey made my knees tremble. It had taken me weeks to get to Terminus, and now I realized I had not even started the real trek.

And beyond that was Myz, the barren land, where cursed things walked the earth, and shadows cackled in the dark. I left my sword back at the house, but now I wish I could’ve gripped its hilt. Somewhere out there, beyond all this, there were things that had once been men.

While I had no wish to encounter the cannibals, what shook me from my slumber at night were the creatures that clothed themselves from corpses. I feared the ones whose empty eyes burned with an orange glow, the ones who would take you in the night. It was said even the cannibals ran when they saw strange forms wandering across the moonlit ice.

I no longer wanted to stay on the wall, pondering what horrible fate I was going to meet. I could not ignore the cold any longer, and I started walking back to the city below.

…

As I’ve mentioned before, the roads of this city were never busy. There were people walking about, yes. However, it was nothing like the rushing crowds of Zodiak. It seemed most were content to stay in their garden homes, waiting out whatever time was left to them. Gereon was correct that this was a dying city. This little spark of civilization was fading. I could easily imagine the stone streets and houses soon abandoned, empty, waiting for the cold to take it like everything else.

Lost in thought, I bumped into a young child. I turned to make my apologies, but instead I saw the boy already running halfway down the street. He was an inexperienced pickpocket. If he had kept walking, I likely would’ve never known my satchel was a little lighter. I was quick to give chase. We ran a ways before the child ducked into a nearby alley.

I did not need to look to know what he had taken. Berenice gave me a pouch of coins for my expenses in the city, and I was not about to let some vagrant child spend that money on sweets and small trinkets. I followed him and soon lost sight of the youth in a surprisingly complicated tangle of narrow paths.

Confused, I ran down a few passages before I realized my quarry was well and truly lost to me. Had I not thought about my composure, I would’ve hurled choice curses to the silent walls around me. As it stood, I remained there kicking myself. I was tired and hungry. I had forgone breakfast because of the feast from last night, and I did not have the chance to eat a noon day meal either.

I had planned to spend the rest of the day exploring the city, but after this, I did not want to continue my excursion in such a foul mood. I started walking to extract myself from these labyrinthine walls.

I did not know whether my pride would allow me to ask Berenice for more coin. On one hand, I felt I was overreaching my welcome. On the other, I had very few options to procure valuable resources. Gereon told me that the magistrate would give me an ice skimmer and food as was required for the journey. But seeing the state of Terminus, I predicted I would be given precious little else.

I needed equipment for the cold. I needed a spear drill to burrow through the ice and shelter against blizzards. And I knew I needed more than my sword if I was going to have a chance against the monsters who dwelled in the south.

From the narrow passage, I spotted an open street. I jogged towards it, and I entered a strange, deserted street. It was odd because while some roads of Terminus were rather empty, none seemed outright abandoned like this one. I saw my breath swirl in the frigid air. Here, the heating pipes seemed to be broken.

The surrounding buildings were in a similar state of disrepair. All of them were emptied of all life. I searched the sky for the Castle Padua to orient myself, but the buildings must’ve obscured it. I sighed and began walking again, hoping to find some landmark I recognized.

As I passed by, I stopped at one shop that seemed occupied. Out in the front was a collection of glittering wares sitting on wooden displays. From a thatched roof hung glass chimes that whistled softly in the wind. I gave a final glance around, giving up on my new surroundings.

I was shivering again, and doubly intrigued by this store, I decided to seek directions from the owner. Ducking under a curtain of glass beads, I was at once overwhelmed by the scent of incense. The shop was cramped, with a low hanging ceiling and very little space to move around the merchandise. Looking around me, I saw every manner of glass bauble arrayed out on shelves. Most predominantly were glass spheres in which were contained miniature worlds. Some were of day, others of night, but to my utter surprise and joy, I found that I recognized more than a few of them.

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I saw the red sands of Ultor, named for the avenging son of the sky. I still recall roaming the ancient city of Zodanga and those spiraling minarets of hewn stone, red as crimson on a crimson land. There lies a monastery chronicling every manner of weapon and blade known to Men.

I saw the deep clouds of Salacia, where schooners with metal wings travel between floating islands. It is said no man has ever plunged into the depths and returned. Though I have heard whispers of the ghost of Er, who speaks of a great serpent sleeping until the end of time.

Farthest away, nestled beyond vast gulfs of the dark, I saw the glittering gems of Kerberos. I was astonished that any man outside of the Astronomers knew of it. It was a tiny land, seeing only a few pilgrims to the shrine of the Mother Inviolate. I looked around for the shop owner, resolved to meet such a learned individual.

Near the back was a counter and a passage into a nearby room. I called out several times, and I heard a rustling from the backroom. An elderly man with a hunched back and a long white beard appeared at the threshold. He gave me a wide smile.

“Ah, an Astronomer! I have not seen your like in many years! Welcome! Welcome! My name is Cassio, the glassmaker.”

He shuffled around the counter and took my hand, shaking it excitedly.

“You are familiar with my School?” I asked, growing more elated.

“But of course! When I was but a boy, an Astronomer saved my life! Since that day, I have always been a friend of your School. What an occasion! Few travelers come to our city in these short days! What fortune I would see one of you again!”

I confess that I could not help from grinning either. To find a friend is always a fortune, especially crossing one so unexpected. Though I admit, I was taken a little aback by the man’s features.

Sometime ago, most of his nose had been lopped off. To remedy this, the man had fashioned a clouded glass prosthetic in its place. His wrinkled head was splotched with all the ugliness that came of age, and I saw that his eyes were cloudy white. Thankfully, however, it was clear he was not fully blind. Yet even if his strange countenance was off-putting, his colorful energy and warm smile put me immediately at ease.

“Come! You must be cold! I regret I do not have a fireplace, but my furnace near the back should give you some warmth. Please! Stay for a while! I have some ale and bread for us to eat.”

I was quickly shooed into the back room. Here, there was a veritable workshop. If the craftsmanship outside was not enough to convince me that this was a master of his trade, this room did. I saw all manner of tools and implements carefully hung on the wall. On several tables were dozens of half completed projects. I noticed on the mantle above the furnace there was a completed sphere much like the others. Yet, this one I did not recognize.

It was of a beautiful garden with every shade of flower. Twelve distant slabs of stone were scattered among the trees, each bearing an insignia that was too small for me to make out. In the center was a red rose crowned with a wreath of thorns. I took one of the wooden seats and admired the garden while the glassmaker retrieved our meal.

Shuffling back with his promised ale and bread, he handed me a glass and we both supped as we conversed. We chatted about small matters for some time. I inquired why he had set himself on such a lonely street, and he responded that all the streets of this city were lonely. Eventually, our talk turned to his craft.

“Have you been to all these places?” I asked, piqued at what inspired the spheres.

“Yes! I took to traveling a long time ago. I learned the craft of glassmaking to pay for my keep. It’s a wonderful trade in my old age. Each sphere is made from light refracted from the lands I made them. To look upon one is to look as if you were really there.”

“Forgive me, but how does the light not run out? We Astronomers have created many mechanisms to entrap and entangle light, but none such as these. Are the spheres not illuminated from common sunlight?”

Cassio wagged a single finger. “A difficult question. I spent many years pondering for such an answer. I discovered that sifting the particle backwards through time, one could be able to effectively catch the light within. Slowly! Slowly! It is a fickle particle, and you mustn’t ever be careless. But once in the sphere, the light cannot run out until it returns to its natural star—which it will spend forever seeking.”

I blinked, and my heart quietly fell in my chest. It had not occurred to me that the glassmaker may have lost his wits in his old age. I was disappointed in myself. I should not have expected else after everything that had happened.

The glassmaker studied my expression, apparently realizing my change in mood. “You do not believe? You think such a thing is impossible?”

My voice caught in my throat, and wishing to be kind as possible to the man who had shown me great courtesy, I considered my words carefully. “There are many strange oddities in the world, and many things that are beyond my knowledge. Who is to say?”

Cassio’s smile widened into a mischievous grin. “I asked whether you believe, and you could not give me an answer. I see you are the worst kind of skeptic, a man who remains staunchly undecided. Do not get up! I recognize you now, old friend. You doubt my craft? Very well, I shall perform an even more impossible feat for your lack of belief. I shall gift you what you shall want most, but do not yet know it.”

The glassmaker got up from his chair and walked briskly over to a set of drawers. Pulling one out and ruffling through the contents, he procured four mirrored spheres. These were much smaller than the ones littered throughout his shop, all of them easily fitting in the palm of his hand. I watched with some interest as Cassio cupped his hands and gave them to me.

“When sword and flame fail you, cast one of these on the ground and stomp on it. Do not ask me when or where. You will know when the time is right. Keep your eyes staunchly closed, however. Do not open them one bit, but instead count to ten. Then you’ll be safe again.”

I held up one of the spheres with my thumb and forefinger, trying to look at what was inside. All I could see was my muted reflection.

“What’s inside them?”

Cassio winked. “Ah, but that’s part of the game. If I tell you, then I will not have performed my trick. Do not test the spheres. You will only waste them.”

I was sure the man had completely lost it now—he had handed me marbles—but I graciously accepted the gift and placed them within my satchel. I gave a warm smile. “Thank you. I’m sure they’ll be of great use on my journey.”

“They will,” the man insisted.

I glanced around, now trying to find an excuse to leave. I was tired at that point, and I wanted to leave.

“Oh, do not worry about being polite on my account.” Cassio handwaved aside. “I am tired as well, and I pass the days more sleeping than not. Oh to be young again! But I do not lament my old age. I have lived a happy and fulfilling life, and I am grateful for having seen all that I have. Go! I shall not hold you any longer.”

The glassmaker sat back down in his seat and enjoyed the rest of his ale. However, I did not want to leave on such a poor account of myself. I stood up and bowed deeply to the man. “Forgive me if I have shown you any disrespect. You have been most welcoming, and I fear I have made a poor guest. I have suffered greatly on my journey, and I allowed it to reflect in my poor behavior.”

Cassio shook his head, laughing and chuckling to himself, though I knew not his jest. “Be at peace. You have been a very welcome guest and a very good friend. I do not begrudge you a thing.”

He opened his mouth, seemingly greatly tempted to say something else, but I saw a decision made in his eyes. “Go my friend. To Calrathia. And may all luck be with you.”

I bowed again and took my leave. Exiting out of the backroom, I halted in my steps as I passed by the shelving. I shook my head at the idea because it was too ridiculous. Yet, after a moment, I groaned to myself and grabbed the sphere of Kerberos and examined it closely. The world was indeed a different hue than the sunlight filtering in the room. However, that could’ve been a trick of the glass, and it certainly proved nothing of Cassio’s claims. But I thought of one way I could refute his wild ramblings.

Looking around, I saw a tarp lying unused in a corner. I flung it over myself and the sphere, making sure to allow as little light in as I could. Under the dark canvas, I held the glass in my hand. Indeed, there was still a blue-green luminescence emanating from the orb. However, what caused my gut to lurch was that the orb did not illuminate my hand, nor my arm, nor the tarp around me. Nor could it, if light proceeded from the observer to the sphere.

I threw the tarp off and placed the sphere back in its place on the shelf. Feeling a wave of nausea, I quickly fled the shop of the strange glassmaker.