“Oh?” Dave asked, deciding to see where this was going as he walked behind the guard. “What makes you think that?"

The guard paused on a landing, blinking at Dave with slightly slitted eyes. "Well, for starters, you're clearly a pure human. No offense, but that's pretty rare around here. Rare and… dangerous. Most folks have at least a little something extra mixed in, especially dungeon delvers. The dungeons really screw with anyone who doesn’t have an extra affinity.”

“Uh-huh.” Dave nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Then there's this... aura about you," the guard said, waving his brown scaled hand vaguely. "It's hard to explain, but you radiate this sense of trust. That's typically a Highborn thing, you know? Regular folks don't just walk around making everyone feel at ease."

“Right,” Dave said.

The guard continued, scratching his beard composed from dark, thick scales. "And your skin - it's got that glow, you know? The work of an Aesthetician. Most Irons struggle to get by, can't afford to throw silver at that kind of treatment, nor a room upstairs. Real tough to get out of the pits once you end up down there. Plus that chonky Kitlix, obviously.”

“What kind do you have?” Dave asked, not elaborating on the man’s guesses.

“Oh, just a young Augerix,” the guard said, and a cute, dark red Kitlix emerged from under his leather collar, glancing at Dave with crystalline eyes. “Born from a Strength-amplifying ring.”

They reached the top of the stairs, and the guard led Dave down a white stone corridor lined with wooden doors. “Here you are, Sir. The seventh floor. Shared bathroom is down the hall. Put your hand in this alcove here so that the Burnix can make you an access key.”

Dave did.

“Authorize access for one night for Room 709,” the guard said.

The alcove-living cyan Kitlix ran around Dave’s hand making the [Room 709] tag flash on his ID token.

“Use the token to unlock your door,” the guard said. “The magic on it will fade by tomorrow afternoon. Till then, the room is yours. If it’s to your liking, just ask this Burnix to extend your stay.”

“Would it not be more efficient if you made me a key downstairs and just told me which room to find?” Dave asked, thinking of how hotels operated on Earth.

The guard smiled. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But efficiency isn't always the priority here in Shandria." He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice. "Truth is, the Guild Masters are rather paranoid about infiltrators."

“Infiltrators from?” Dave raised an eyebrow.

“Foreign domains,” the guard shrugged. “Right now, the closest one is the Dragon God Empire.”

“Other… domains are trying to infiltrate Shandria?”

“Yes. We’ve been lucky so far. Nightingale is pretty darn effective at chopping up foreign infiltrators. The more domains a God-Sovereign holds, the greater the extent of their power,” the guard explained. “The Burnix network throughout the building monitors things. Helps keep tabs on... suspicious activities."

“Sounds rather invasive," Dave commented.

The guard shrugged. "Privacy is a luxury few can afford in Shandria. But don't worry too much - unless you're planning to overthrow the High Lords, or summon some eldritch abomination, you're probably fine."

He paused, eyeing Dave. "You're... not planning anything like that, are you?"

Dave couldn't help but huff at the guard's shift in demeanor. "No elder abominations on my agenda. Just a good night's sleep before meeting my party tomorrow."

"Good to hear.”

“Would a foreign infiltrator really tell you that they’re an infiltrator?” Dave asked.

“Nah,” the guard laughed. “We’re trained to spot liars though.”

“I see,” Dave said.

“If you need anything, just tap the Nuntix Kitlix bound to the table in your room and ask to Voicecast the Adventurers Guild Front Desk. It can also Voicecast people with personal Nuntix and catch Astralwaves from Illatius and other places on Arx if you want relaxing music, news or a play to listen to. Helps some folks fall asleep after a rough day in the dungeon.”

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“How do I use a… Nuntix?”

“Just tap it and tell it what you want to hear or whom you want to call,” the guard explained. “The Shadow Empire rate is 3 copper a minute. Calls further out are more expensive depending on how far you want to cast. The price will show up on your banking bracelet.”

“How far can I voicecast exactly?” Dave asked.

“Pretty wide,” the guard said. “On the account that our Guild’s central spire is pretty big. Don’t try to cast the dead unless you’ve got cash to burn.”

“What?” Dave choked. “Are you saying that a Nuntix can call into the freaking afterlife?!”

“Sort of,” the guard said. “It won’t be cheap and the dead usually don’t offer the best advice on the account of not being alive. Pretty often they're straight up insane or completely and irrationally obsessed over one particular thing they failed to accomplish while they were still alive.”

“How the hell is this allowed, but Necromancers are executed on the spot?” Dave demanded.

“The Voicecast Guilds really don’t like private competitors,” the man smiled with inhumanly sharp teeth.

“I see,” Dave frowned.

As the guard turned to leave, Dave called out, "Oh, right, I didn't catch your name."

“Golrik Bostrum,” Golrik replied, heading downstairs. “Enjoy your stay, Sir Dave. Be seeing you.”

Dave stepped into his room, the door clicking shut behind him. The space was small but comfortable, with a single bed pushed against one wall and a modest writing desk beneath a window overlooking the nighttime cityscape of Shandria lit up by glowing red runes. Steel shutters slowly sealed the view of the night city.

Soft, amber light emanated from a glowing Kitlix nestled in a wall lamp, casting warm shadows across the room.

He sank onto the bed, its mattress surprisingly plush compared to what he'd grown accustomed to since arriving on Arx. For a moment, he simply sat there, letting the events of the past few days wash over him.

With a deep breath, Dave reached into his bag and carefully extracted the stained glass window depicting Lari. He cradled it gently in his hands, his fingers tracing the intricate lead lines that formed her familiar features, thinking about what Terri told him. The colored glass seemed to shimmer in the Kitlix light, bringing an almost lifelike quality to Lari's frozen smile.

Setting the stained glass on the bedside table, Dave's attention was drawn to the small, dark Kitlix perched nearby. Its crystalline body sparked with magenta stars from within.

A wild thought struck him. It was probably futile, likely to drain his meager funds, but the temptation was too strong to resist. Dave leaned forward, his heart pounding as he tapped the Nuntix gently. The Voicecast Kitlix turned his head towards him, staring at him with crystalline eyes glowing with magenta-tinted auroras from within.

"Voicecast..." he swallowed hard, steeling his nerves before continuing, "Saint Saria."

For a long moment, nothing happened. The room remained silent save for the distant sounds of fluttering shadows leeching between the shutters. Dave held his breath, unsure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

Then, suddenly, the Nuntix lit up with more magenta sparks from within, all of her tips and paws igniting.

[Celestether Astralink Established with Interlocutor Saint Saria,] words suddenly flashed atop of his black bracelet. [Charge: 1 platinum 52 gold 42 silver per minute. Accept connection?]

Dave stared at the flashing message on his bracelet, his heart pounding in his chest. The cost was astronomical, far beyond what he could afford.

He grabbed onto the Nuntix Kitlix, slipping all of his soul bits into Wisdom.

Dave thought about the first hackers, people who tricked phone lines by whistling tones into them. He wondered if there might be a similar way to manipulate this magical communication system. After all, wasn't magic just another form of technology in this world?

For a few seconds, he tried to mentally force the Nuntix to connect without accepting the charge. It didn’t work.

In a last-ditch effort, Dave asked aloud, "Can the Interlocutor pay for the charge?"

To his surprise, his bracelet flashed with a new message: [Interlocutor Saint Saria cannot pay the charge on account of _being dead.]

Dave's heart sank.

After another minute of fruitless effort, the connection message faded away, and the Nuntix dimmed its magenta glow.

Defeated, Dave slid back onto the bed, his mind drowning in disappointment. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do next. The silence of the room felt oppressive.

On a whim, Dave sat up and tapped the Nuntix again. "Play my favorite song," he requested.

The Nuntix lit up once again with violet sparks, much dimmer this time. It twinkled with random noises as if the critter was a radio trying to catch a specific signal. Then it began to sing with a girl’s voice.

“I heard there was a secret chord

That David played, and it pleased the Lord..."

Dave listened intently as the Nuntix sang the hauntingly familiar melody.

As the last notes faded away, he found himself staring at the stained glass image of Lari, his mind reeling with the realization that the Kitlix had somehow… reproduced her voice.

The uncanny accuracy sent a shiver down his spine. How was this possible? Was it just an incredibly accurate magical recreation, or something more? Was the crystalline magic critter stealing songs from the dead? Was this how Cedez and Stellaris learned of his favorite music, by simply asking a Kitlix to sing it?

More questions swirled in his weary mind, but answers remained frustratingly out of reach.

Overwhelmed by emotion and exhaustion, Dave gently reached out to the portrait standing on the small desk.

He settled back onto the bed, Healy curling up on his chest. As sleep began to overtake him, Dave's last thoughts were of Lari - her kindness, her strength, and the mystery of how their paths had become so inexplicably intertwined across life and death, space and time.