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Draft Update 08/01/25
🕑 Added 2025-01-08 18:40:31 +0000 UTC(Couldn't get into a decent flow state this week, and so didn't have time to update the previous chapter and also add enough new content. It'll just have to do.
There are a couple interesting moments in the main conversation of this chapter that I sort of wish I'd had more of the juice for, but all things considered it worked out okay. Next week we'll be back into the meat of actual plot movement.)
Inner Sanctum Underground | 9:33 AM | ∞ Day
I took a few gulps, gasped, and set it down. We ate for another minute or so in relative silence before I spoke up again.
"So I'm not complaining," I began, "but why did you want to do this, exactly?"
A shrug. "No real reason. Was just gonna eat anyway, so I figured we might as well do it together." She offered a coy smile. "No offense, but you sort of look liked one of my cats after I forget to let them in after closing time back there."
Pity, huh? I guess that figures. "Makes sense," I said, though this was a complete lie. It was something I would never have done with a relative stranger in a million years, and the statement clearly marked Nora as the kind of social creature most remote from myself.
"It's good to always be looking out for others here," she continued, taking another bite out of her sandwich. "Probably a pretty tight-knit community compared to what you're used to in the real world, all things considered. Reputation can follow you far."
It really was refreshing that she at least called it the 'real world'. I'd almost started to think of it as the Reflection myself. "Aren't there almost a million people in this Domain, not even counting Tertiaries...?" I asked skeptically. "It's no Old Yru, but that seems a far cry from 'tight knit'."
"When you consider how memory works here, that's not as big a number as it sounds," she explained. "You won't get to know everyone, but chances are you'll be one degree of separation away quicker than you think. Two tops."
Unless I die before that happens, I thought, but nodded along. "So you could pick out some of the people passing by right now?"
"Probably," she said, and lowered her sandwich for a moment to glance around at our surroundings. After a few moments, she pointed at a bald, dark-skinned man with striking amethyst eyes heading towards the capitol area. "That guy over there, Tauros, comes by my shop every couple of years looking for love letters from celebrities having affairs. Mostly from the Imperial Era, but all over the place generally. Once he even asked for some sent by a prolific Old Kingdoms era monk."
"Why?"
"Couldn't tell you. Special interest, I guess? Or I guess it could be more of a sex thing." She shrugged. "I try not to ask questions unless they're regulars and we've got a rapport going."
I bit my lip at her bluntness. I still couldn't believe there was an entire cottage industry here based around snooping on dead people's private affairs. ...though I suppose that's what history was, once you strip away the speculative element.
"And that lady," she resumed, subtly pointing to a very normal looking brunette headed in the opposite direction, "lives down in the Valley, near my friend Bao's house. Her name's Sally. She shows up whenever he does a barbecue, but always sits in the corner without ever really talking to anybody."
"...is it alright for you to be telling me this stuff?"
"Eh, it's just surface-level gossip." She took another bite. "Besides, you don't seem like the type to stir the pot."
"I guess not," I said, scratching the side of my head.
"So, how have you been settling in?" she asked, still chewing the food. "If I recall, you used the phrase 'existential horror' the last time we talked."
I considered the question. Obviously I couldn't tell her what was actually on my mind, not least of all because of how severely she'd reacted when the Manse had been brought up last time; it was like she'd briefly become an entirely different person. Still, there wasn't really any harm in being honest about the big picture.
"It... could be better," I answered. "I've mostly just been bumming around in Ptolema's house playing echo games all day, to be honest."
She chuckled. "Bet she's loving that."
I laughed grimly. "It might be causing a little friction."
"Why not get your own place?" she suggested, as I'd seen coming. "It's not exactly tough. Even if you don't want to get citizenship yet, there's a lot of places you can get a room for basically as long as you want." She glanced towards the sky. "Not like space is at a premium here, to state the obvious."
I paused for a few moments as I decided on what to say, letting the inoffensive flavor of the strange meat seep along my tongue. "It's a little complicated," I finally began. "I got dragged in to the governor's office down there the other day."
She furrowed her brow. "What for?"
"It seems like they think I'm being taken advantage of on account of being a Dreamer," I told her, which wasn't untrue, even if it was omitting some of the reasons they'd had to arrive at that suspicion. "And apparently some weird people have been keeping tabs on me, for some reason."
"Any names?"
I hesitated. "She... the governor, I mean... mentioned an organization called 'Last Mountain'." I decided to omit the part about a member of the Domain government also keeping tabs on me, since that felt like it stretched believably. Even if it was, well, the truth.
Even so, Nora's features soured. "Mm, that's not good."
"Who are they?" I asked. "She described them as religious extremists, but didn't give any details."
She seemed reticent for a moment, but answered, turning her head down and taking a much larger, harsher bite from her sandwich. "Doomsday proselytizers, more or less," she explained. "Think that the world is going to end, and it's their duty to bring it about."
"I... huh." I considered this for a moment. "How's that supposed to work? This world doesn't really seem, well, endable."
"Oh, they have lots of ideas." She swallowed, then took a heavy drink of water and cleared her throat sharply, like even having to talk about this was filling her throat with gunk. "They used to just be obsessed with the Manse back in the day, but they've branched out towards all manner of crackpot theories now that stuff's fallen out of fashion. I've heard their current working theory is that it'll happen if everyone disbands their Domains and reclaims all their matter, then enters a state of prayer and penitence for-- I don't know, a thousand years or something. Reject all temptation. And before that it was about cleansing the world of Tertiaries. " She shook her head. "Or something. I don't keep track of that shit."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why do they think--"
"It's a cult," she cut in, side-eyeing me. "They don't think."
I guess even talking about something that pisses her off is enough to bring out this side of her.
"Well, still," I persisted, now a little curious. "You know what I mean."
She clicked her tongue. "Basically, they think this whole world is some kind of trial set up for humanity. You remember what I said the other day? About this being purgatory?"
"Yeah."
"Well, they think that's literally true," she explained. "That this is the afterlife, and we've been brought here as some kind of test by God to see if humanity is worthy of being reincarnated in the next universe. Or the only universe, depending on how they view the Reflection-- There's been a whole bunch of schisms and different sects, it's all stupid as hell." She wafted a hand and conjured a floating porcelain pot of thick, muddy gravy, which she dipped her sandwich in. "But they all agree that there's some sort of goal we're supposed to intuit and do, usually of a self-flagellating flavor. And then they make it everyone else's problem."
"I, uh... see," I spoke pensively, then glanced towards the pot. "Can I have some of that?"
"Knock yourself out," she said, still not turning to look directly at me.
I dipped the end of my sandwich in the pot, then tried it out. It tasted savory and rich, with a hint of lemon.
"It sounds like you really hate them," I observed, the kind of banal observation that was about as much as I was capable of when it came to a passionate conversation with a stranger.
Nora snorted, and for a brief moment seemed genuinely annoyed at me. But this quickly faded, replaced by an aloof, vaguely embarrassed grimace. "I just don't know why so many people in this fucking place are perpetually set on finding some way to ruin a good thing. Or-- No, that's not even it." She sighed. "I can get people not being happy with the way things are here, but I don't know how they can delude themselves into believing any of this shit. I've seen so many good Domains go the way of the dinosaurs because of people's delusions." She gave me an apologetic glance. "Sorry, I didn't mean to end up ranting at you. I'm sure you don't know what the fuck I'm talking about."
"It's okay," I replied hesitantly. "I mean. I did hear about what happened to the Magilum."
"That shit's the least of it. The big Domains always have their time-- It's the little stuff that ends up getting fucked up."
"What do they actually do, in modus operandi terms?" I asked, hoping I wasn't pushing it. "Rather, why would they be stalking me?"
"Beats me," she said, taking a penultimate bite. "I know they've invented a zillion prophecies over the years, enough to fit just about every situation under the sun. Yours is rare enough to be interesting, so the guys in charge probably just want to use you to keep their followers from getting bored and ditching the 'cause'. Wouldn't be surprised if they have somebody in the Waywatch who leaks everything juicy to them." Finally, she turned back towards me, the last of her bitterness seeming to fade as she swallowed. "I'm making these guys sound like some huge threat, but really they're just a handful of losers. All they do is try to find roundabout ways to harass people and get at the levers of power in Domains. For somebody like you who's not really invested in anything, there's not a lot they can do that wouldn't get the Waywatch on their ass."
I dipped my sandwich in the gravy, which seemed to be bottomless, again. "I guess that's sort of reassuring."
"Just don't get involved with anyone who seems shady, and you'll probably be fine. And have Ema put up some wards if she hasn't already." She dipped the last chunk deeply into the gravy herself. "Honestly, if I were you, I'd be more worried about the Governor Cyrene. It's been ages since I've heard of her making someone come in to meet her personally."
I raised my brow. "It's that uncommon?"
"Yeah." She took one last chomp. "She's had a reputation for being an extreme recluse ever since the assembly appointed her a few decades back. Most of the time they stick ex-Waywatch captains at the post, or sometimes popular mayors from the big towns in the Valley. Raurica, Three Towers, Zhenzhou..." She patted crumbs off her skirt. "Cyrene is a weird one because she used to head the Ministry of Domain Planning. Complete bureaucrat through and through, zero charisma. Had to be some weird politicking going on for her to end up in charge of the Valley."
I nodded slightly, and remembered how deserted the building had been as I was led through by the aide. I'd thought it had seemed peculiar, but...
"When I met her, she seemed convinced that someone was manipulating me into doing something, and demanded that I cut ties with them unless I wanted to have my residency cut," I told her. "But she wouldn't explain anything about who she thought it was."
"Well, are you being manipulated into doing something?"
Everyone else other than the woman I just screamed at until she started crying seems to believe I am, but... "I'm pretty sure I'm not. I mean, I've barely been speaking to anyone except for Ptolema." Anyone human, at least.
"I'd just wait it out, then," she offered. "She probably just has the wrong idea-- The Waywatch is overstaffed nowadays, so they're always chasing shadows. But they won't be able to pin anything on you if you keep to yourself and don't leave the Domain. Besides, you have..." She hesitated, trailing off.
I frowned curiously. "What?"
"Nothing," she said, reaching for the water again. "Just got my wires crossed. You gonna have any more of that?" She pointed to the gravy.
I wasn't born yesterday, so I could tell she'd almost said something she shouldn't have and was now trying to quickly change the subject. But there didn't seem much to gain in calling her out on it. "I'll just take one more dip."
As I stuck the last remnant of my own sandwich into the pot, she continued: "Anyway, if you're worried about attracting too much attention one way or another, you could just rent a room up here in the City instead. It's too busy and there's too many enchantments to do anything sketchy without the Waywatch being on your ass in a second, and you'd be out of Cyrene's jurisdiction. Even if she still pushes it, the Ministry of Security's a lot less likely to buy into whatever pet theory she has about you when you're right under their nose. I could even recommend you a good boarding house if you wanted."
I finished the sandwich before continuing, savoring the last bite. "It's not just that," I said, my tone growing more reserved. "I just don't feel fully comfortable with the idea of being alone here. Everything's still so..." I glanced at a passing man with leaves for hair. "...strange. I feel homesick, I guess."
She waved her hand again, causing the gravy pot and all the other leftovers from our meal to vanish. "Obviously I can't blame you, but how do you mean, 'strange'? Just the obvious stuff, or something more specific?"
"I mean, the obvious stuff is overwhelming. But it's more just that it feels so-- I don't know. Not empty, but slippery."
"Slippery."
"Nothing feels like it has any... ugh, I want to say 'substance', but that's not it either," I tried to explain, furrowing my brow. "I've just always had a narrative-oriented way of thinking. And even though the Mimikos had gone completely to shit by the time I woke up, it still fit into a framework that my brain felt like it could chew on. Maybe some part of me actually prefers a bad world that makes sense in that way to a good one."
Nora looked at me curiously, leaning forward and putting her hands together now that she was done eating. "I can understand having a hard time finding a sense of meaning after ending up here, but I'm not totally sure I follow what you mean by 'narrative-oriented thinking'."
"It doesn't matter. Just old hangups." I sighed. "Plus, there keep being these little things people say or stuff that happens which feels like it's going over my head somehow. I don't know-- It's hard to even tell what actually matters."
"Well, there is a lot of history here. It's kinda natural that you'd feel out of a loop."
I shook my head. "Honestly, I'm probably just projecting my own anxiety about more personal problems."
"What sort of problems?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry, again, don't mean to be a busybody."
"It's nothing important," I said dismissively. Well, except for the whole hourglass and goddess of death thing, but I can't tell you about that. "Just stuff like what happened with my old teacher earlier. And there's this other old friend who's supposed to be here and I really want to see - but am also scared to see, if that makes sense - and, uh..."
I trailed off, an awkward expression forming on my face.
"And what?" Nora prompted.
I dithered. Was it really a good idea to talk to her about this, considering I didn't even know her?
Frankly, the fact that you don't know her probably makes it less potentially weird, my social anxiety ventured.
In retrospect, though, the impulse was very much unlike me. I must have still been reeling a little from the conversation with Neferuaten.
I sighed through my nose. "Can I tell you something? It might make me sound like a shitty person."
"Sure," she said, shrugging. "Go nuts."
"Okay. So the other day - or I guess it was almost a week ago, now - I was visiting this old friend from the real world, right? Uh, different old friend from the last two."
"You sure have a lot of friends that ended up here," Nora observed.
"Guess so," I muttered, before quickly digressing. "But yeah-- Ptolema sent me to this guy, and we had a basically normal conversation. We caught up, I asked him some questions about life here, and we went for a walk to a nice spot at the edge of the City. And he seemed basically the same as he'd been in the real world, right? Just like Ptoelma has been, more or less." I found myself looking away, my face flushing with embarrassment despite not even being at the crux of the story. "E-Except unlike her, I noticed he looked a... little bit different. Bone structure wise, not just younger."
"That's not too uncommon, actually. It's based partly on what your self-perception was out there, and a lot of people imagine themselves a bit differently to what they see in the mirror."
"No, I know that, it's just..." I squinted, flattening my lip. "No, you're right, it's not relevant."
A few moments passed in silence. In the corner of my eye, I could see her regarding me with growing confusion.
"So what happened," I eventually continued, "was that he loaned me a book, right."
"Right."
"And I was skimming through it on the way back to the edge of the City - since I wasn't sure if it was allowed to just fly out from anywhere at that point - and I noticed that he'd been using something kind of personal as a bookmark." Another pause. "A, uh, postcard, specifically."
"Hey," she said, putting her hands up. "You don't need to justify this all to me."
"S-Sorry." I raised a hand to my mouth, clearing my throat. "Anyway, the point is, I decided to bring it back. So I went back to his apartment, but when I got there, I realized the door was unlocked. So I figured I'd just, y'know, open it a crack and let him know I was there, right? Since if I knocked, it would just end up pushing the whole thing open anyway. But when I did that, I..."
She waited expectantly as I was struck by the sense that this was probably all a bad idea.
"...I saw someone, uh." I hesitated. "Different. A woman-- Specifically, I mean."
She blinked. "Like his partner, or something?"
"I don't... think so," I spoke carefully. "There wasn't anyone else around when I was there, and I'm pretty sure she was in the middle of changing her clothes. So it seems like, well... since people here can alter their shape..." I turned to her abruptly. "But I mean, it's not out of the question. I was gone for about ten minutes, and I didn't really get a chance for a good look."
Something bordering on realization seemed to be growing in Nora's eyes. "You didn't talk to them."
"N-No." I shook my head. "They didn't notice me, and I felt like I'd seen something I shouldn't have, so I just...crept away without saying anything." I flattened my brow. "Like I said, I know it makes me sound like a shitty person."
Nora said nothing, considering the words pensively. In some regards, this was worse than agreeing with me.
"Anyway, it's stupid," I continued. "But since then, I haven't been able to stop myself from fixating on it every time I have a free moment. Like, was it an entirely different person, just impersonating them for some reason? Or had they changed their, uh, identity, and were just putting on an act for my sake during our conversation? Or-- Well, I guess there's a bunch of possibilities." I scratched the side of my head. "But the whole thing sort of threw me through a loop."
"Why?" Nora asked bluntly.
"Because... I don't know." I sighed through my nose. "I don't have a reasonable explanation. I guess it just has me questioning everything, since, well - and I know this will sound conceited - I thought I knew them, essentially. Either literally, or in the sense that I was talking to the person I presumed to be." I flinched. "Not that they have some obligation to tell me all their innermost secrets or whatever, that's not what I mean. But even if you can never know another person completely, I feel like I'm good at reading others in... at least some ways, and this went against all of my instincts. Like, he's not... he's just never seemed... and if it wasn't him, would that mean I couldn't even trust Ptolema, or anything I see here? Maybe that's taking it too far, but it just..."
I paused for another moment, realizing I was talking in circles while somehow failing to get at the core of what I was talking about. I took a breath.
"Anyway," I digressed, "obviously I couldn't talk about it, so I've just been stewing on it until now. Maybe now that I've talked about it I'll feel better. I don't know."
I'd honestly expected Nora to find the way I was talking about all this funny - it sounded funny even to my own ears, if I excised the context of my own internal monologue. But instead she was wearing quite a serious, furtive expression.
"Sorry," I told her automatically. "I probably shouldn't have brought all this up."
"Eh? Oh-- Nah, you haven't said anything wrong." She made a dismissive gesture. "I'm just thinking about how I want to say this."
I frowned. "Say what?"
"Just to make sure I'm not taking you the wrong way," she began, looking towards me. "You think this is about their gender, right? Like, that they were putting on a sort of show for you by changing into a man, then went back to normal after you left. That's why you brought up the stuff about them looking different."
Hearing it put so bluntly made my face turn a shade that I'm sure was quite violent, but I nodded, glancing to the side. "U-Uh, yes."
"Right." Nora clicked her tongue. "I think you might have the wrong idea."
I frowned. "How so?"
"I really thought Ema would have talked to you about this when she was first going over life here, but the fact that she hasn't makes me not sure if I ought to. Maybe she thinks you'll have some kind of bad reaction for some reason I don't know." She furrowed her brow. "I ought to have taken you more seriously when you said that you felt like you were missing things."
"Okay, but now that you've said that, you can't not explain what you mean," I stated, my eyes widening a bit. "What are you talking about? What's going on?"
"You should probably just contact her and ask directly," she suggested. "I'm sure that if you're direct about it, she'll explain."
"Ptolema's busy right now," I said insistently, my eyes narrowing. "And the way you're putting this, it's making me not want to leave it to chance anyway."
"It's not something serious."
"How could I have a bad reaction if it's not serious?"
"I don't know, I'm just--" She cut herself off, making a consternated hum. "Ugh, I wish Ely were here. I'm not good at this sort of thing."
"Just tell me," I asked, puffing up my chest and trying to sound as adult as possible despite the way I'd been coming across just one conversational beat prior. "I'm not a child. Whatever it is, I can handle it."
Internally, I was not at all confident I could handle 'it', whatever it was. This turn in the conversation had taken me so off-guard I hadn't even processed where it could possibly be going.
Nora let out a long, soft sigh, glancing down the street. "It's... what you said about Ptolema and your friend not changing-- That's the key to it." An idea seemed to strike her, and she looked at me suddenly. "Have you been to the inside of the City?"
I blinked. "Er, aren't we inside it right now?"
"I mean inside inside," she said, gesturing towards the central structure. "The interior of the tower."
"Oh. Uh, no," I answered. "The closest I came was when I visited the person I'm talking about, actually. He had an apartment right next to the entrance."
"Figures," she muttered, then slowly rose from the bench. "Well, I've gone and made this my problem, so I'll take you there. It'll be easier than just laying it all out."
I felt skeptical, but rose myself. "Just going there will explain everything?"
"Yeah, more or less," she spoke with casual confidence, then looked at her watch. "We'll have to be quick, though. I've only got another 20 minutes before I need to get back to work."
𒊹
Empyrean Bastion, Aetherbridge Lift Exit | 3:18 PM | First Day
It is often said - though don't ask me by whom, I'm not a bloody historian, I'm just quoting magazine articles here - that the story of civilization is the story of land and infrastructure. Trends may ebb and flow and the fate of nations with them, but it is how things move that truly determines the bigger picture of culture and the most lasting measure of human progress. Lo, for though the empires of the Emegi and Akkadi turned to dust, did the roads they built not connect Mesopotamia and permit their successors to surpass them all the more? Did the sailors who first charted course to Makaria not exceed in their historical footprint all of the myriad kings of Europe, Libya and Asia in their day, in that their actions doubled the scope of man's world? Was it not the construction of the great solar arrays that made the Iron Princes' rule not only possible, but inevitable through the routing of such power to one master? Indeed, the fate of humanity is ordained not by conquerors, but builders. That which connects people - materially, socially - and directs the flow of resources. All epochs of peace, war, alliance and grievance, modellable ultimately in the same fashion as the movements of water down a hill!
And if you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you. (Literally; you'd probably pay a ton.) But it's a tempting notion, isn't it? The idea that the world can be explained with something so elementary, rather than being a chaotic storm of myriad feedback loops, some rational and some very much otherwise. Why, it almost makes you believe that Paritism could actually work.
But alas, the world is not so kind. Sometimes you build a beautiful line of rail in the hopes of connecting two disparate communities in mutual social and economic harmony, and they just don't use it! Maybe the route goes through some ugly terrain, or some complex cultural reservation puts them off the entire idea of mechanized transport. Maybe they simply don't like you personally, and want to piss you off. Humans are majestically complex creatures; they have all sorts of reasons for doing things.
Take the separation of the Parties. The Uana and Lluateci took fundamentally different lessons from the collapse to the other six, a cultural irreconcilability which would inevitably lead to war. So of course, the Ironworkers do the eminently sensible thing and separate the two by a vast gulf of space! This isn't the Milky Way; there's nothing else to find up there in terms of resources, and plenty for both groups at home besides. So problem solved, right?
Nope! Nope. Peacetime political malaise sets in, someone in the Old Yru Assembly with no serious sense of geopolitical realism decides the idea of 'reconnecting humanity' sounds nice on paper, and a few decades and a lot of wasted time later we have a space elevator to literally nowhere useful, and a pretext for establishing a bunch of categorically useless colonies in the Empyrean. And just like that, we've set/stirred the stage/pot for an apocalyptic conflict a couple centuries down the line!
I suppose the moral of the story, which will become relevant later, is this: Never discount the human ability to ruin a good thing for no reason at all.
...what, are you surprised I know about the war with the Triumvirate? I hope you're not expecting me to stay in character and pretend I exist in some nebulous narrator-space where this is all happening simultaneously in the past and the present all the way through this. As I would say to my Ysaran professor, if you're hoping for stable tense, maybe you should have got a real degree so you could buy a house instead.
Oh, don't look at me like that. We're having fun here, aren't we?
In any case: Dear reader, I will do us both a favor and spare you the account of our ascent up that misbegotten edifice, for if there is anything more tedious than riding public transport it is surely hearing about it. Suffice it to say, Lilith threw a tantrum - as she is wont to do - Su told an endearingly cringe-worthy joke - as she is wont to do - and Ophelia almost vomited - etcetera, etcetera. In the main, it was pleasant enough and we all arrived safely.
We came out at the Empyrean Bastion central lobby. You already know what it looks like, so I'm not going to describe it again. Big, round, fountain in the middle; you remember.
Though I will take a moment to remark on the smell, an unfortunate reality of all products of the previous century's Architectural Biomancy trend. Earthy, starchy, just the slightest bit rotten. I don't know why so many people like the stuff.
"Gosh, it's not like I expected at all," Ophelia spoke, wearing an enchanted expression that wouldn't be amiss on a storybook princess as she glanced about, her body light.
"What were you expecting...?" Su inquired skeptically, her hands in her pockets.
"Oh, I'm not sure," Ophelia remarked. "Like a metal fortress, I suppose? But instead it's like the inside of a tree, growing among the stars."
"That's Steelwood, Ophelia," I told her flatly, naming the enemy. "Artificial bark, used to be all over the place in the 1300s. I'm surprised you don't recognize it. Isn't it rather common in Pallattaku?"
I gave her a coy smile, but in retrospect that line might have crossed over from a fun tease to a little unpleasant. Of course, I knew the truth that she'd never even been there.
I saw a flicker of wariness and unease in her eyes, but she quickly recovered. "Steelwood-- Oh, yes, I see what you mean. No, I've seen it before, but it has a much lighter colour in the Viraaki cities. I suppose it must be the density..."
I bit my lip-- Something of an awkward recovery. Now I definitely felt a little bad. "Mm-hmm, I suppose it would need to be thicker up here to keep the atmosphere in," I added, quickly going along with her story.
"A-And you never see raw wood in an interior space like this," she continued. It's always painted, or papered, or tiled with some pattern or another... Sometimes on the outside, too. Viraaki cities are very colorful. But this looks so raw; it's striking, like a lot of Ysaran styles, but different. Like something from another world altogether."
I nodded along, but having never been to Viraak in any serious capacity, I couldn't tell you if any of this is actually true. Indeed, I suspected Ptolema, on account of her family connections, would be the only one who could, and she seemed presently occupied in enjoying the lower level of gravity. She was hopping up and down on the spot subtly, seeming to barely restrain an expression of childlike enthusiasm."
"Have you ever studied architectural Biomancy, Ophelia?" Su asked.
"Mm-mmm." Ophelia shook her head. "My secondary school when I was studying was Zoomancy."
Su nodded, and glanced conspicuously towards her bag. "I suppose I ought to have guessed."
She was probably wondering what Ophelia's project was, and I had to admit I was a little curious myself. My humble opinion was that Alienist Biomancy was a bit of a dead-end of a field - custom organ replacement and transplantation was just too labor intensive a school to survive with the advances being made in traditional organ healing and arcane reconstruction. But there was often a fascinatingly macabre character to her work that I oft found compelling, perhaps an artifact of her cultural heritage.
"Well!" I said, putting my hands on my hips as we approached the middle of the square "Here we are, then." I glanced to the tunnel from which he'd arrived, then in a 180 arc around the entire entrance area. "Anyone spotted Lilith and Mehit yet?"
"Not me," Ran said, her head in a book as ever.
"This is crazy," Ptolema muttered to herself. "Feels like I'm underwater..."
"I haven't seen them either," Su said, starting to frown. "You think maybe they didn't board properly, after we lost track of them at the check in?"
"Always so quick to jump to the negative," I teased her, tutting. "I'm sure they're fine. They probably just ended up on one of the lower levels, and Ran's always telling us how getting out of those is practically a fight to the death."
"I dunno if I'd go that far, but there's a lot of butting," the woman in question added.
"Exactly. Lilith's small-- She probably just ended up forced to the back." I looked between the others. "Any of you have the time?"
"Second time you've asked me that today," Su said, reaching for her logic engine and idly tapping it. "It's just coming up to 3:20."
"Wonderful! Then we've still plenty of time," I remarked optimistically. "We can afford to give them at least a good ten minutes before we start to worry, I think."
"Um," Ophelia cut in, raising a finger effetely. "If we're stopping for a moment, would it be alright if I went to the lavatory...? We still don't know how long it will take to get to the sanctuary itself, so..."
"Mm, that might actually be a good thought," Su murmured in response. "Ran, do you know--"
"It's down that little passage over there," Ran said, pointing to the 10 o'clock region of the circle. "On the left."
Ophelia smiled at her warmly. "Thank you, Ran."
"Don't mention it."
"I'll come along as well," I said. "I trust you and Ptolema can keep an eye out, Ran?
She nodded absently. Ptolema, still not paying attention, performed a 720 degree spin.
