Lapil removed the magician's top hat from his head, bringing down his back into a bow as the hat was held brim-first to his chest. He then shook the hat, which popped out a crisp 'pa!' before he brought it level to his waist. He waved towards the hole, oscillating his hand in concise rotations as if beckoning for Bie to speed up.
"Come on in. There's a lot of space inside!" Lapil seemed to recover from the series of verbal bashes he received as his face practically beamed with confidence. He had always thought the hat tricks were cool, glad that he was born as a Mad Hatter.
Bie's face was a lot darker, and he had a dubious expression on his face as his eyebrows remained motionless and a hint of suspicion streaked across his eyes. The two looked at each other in silence, one with a wide grin as if he was pulling off the greatest trick ever conceived. The other was completely unamused.
"..."
"..."
The two's eyes moved as they shared a look of awkwardness, both of their expressions firmly etched into their face. Lapil did not give in even though he still felt uncomfortable, deciding to wait out Bie's impatience. A small eye twitch that announced his disgust was the last thing Lapil saw before the younger Guide walk towards the hat stepping directly in the opening and disappearing as he carried himself further.
The remaining young man let out a sigh of relief, while he muttered under his breath. Something about...'this damn job', 'f*ck, this better be worth it,', and 'I really hope this kid gets the same job I did...'
He pulled the hat over his head and was sucked into it, his feet poking out before sliding into the hat completely. Then, the hat itself blinked out of the tunnels, as if it had never been there in the first place.
--
In the second layer of Uthreth, Grasping Hands.
A massive cathedral with several additional buildings around it exuded heavy pressure due to its sheer size. There were multiple paned windows, each depicting various stages of the moon and night sky, brilliant crests formed by skillful craftsmanship on the mainly purple, yellow, and white windows. A grey sky speckled with glimmers from the stalactites hidden by the atmosphere hung overhead, and the entire area appeared serene.
Guides that had all sorts of shapes, colors, and sizes adorning walked around the cathedral and residual structures grounds, some even walking up the steep hill that the site was situated on as it overlooked a spiraling city. Most of the Guides wore priestlike robes similar the vestments you'd see on catholic clergy, differentiated by their additional adornments. Each robe had a pattern of one of the moon stages along their back, some of the people sported white ties, and some had additional jewelry and more grandiose garments.
Slung somewhere on a lot of their bodies was a simple, golden shape that somewhat resembled a cross. The stakes at either side were replaced by two half circles on either side, seemingly an allusion to the moon, and a chain hung from the lowest point, most binding an ornate golden bell.
There was an aura of general friendliness as the Guides spoke to each other, each enveloped in either their own solitary actions or embroiled in the conversations they exchanged with one another. Kids lacking the garments that a good sixty percent of the Guides were wearing ran around, some competing with each other and some meditating peacefully. The weirder ones were openly experimenting with their Bridges, uncaring of the plights of those around them. Everyone simply gave them a wide berth, so as to avoid any unfortunate accidents.
The buildings were not so lucky though, as they were occasionally beat upon by rapid flashes of magic or abilities or energy of the like. Their rumblings contributed to the hubbub of noise propagated by the chitter-chatter of thousands.
But deep in the cathedral, there was an area where no noise could possibly enter. Inside of the gilded room, where there was a wide and cavernous space with pillars with elaborate carvings etched into them, a massive body snored as the sound of bells filled the air after every gasp of breath it let out.
It was a five-meter-tall valiant looking lion that was completely metallic, the light of the room bouncing off of its burnished brass chassis. Each heave brought more air into its metal lungs that evoked a whistle as it traveled through its body, and each push made the air escape its mouth in a hurry, smashing past the clapper shaped uvula that somehow resulted in the crisp bell sounds lingering in the air.
If one could tear their eyes away from the giant f*ck-off lion that was slumbering peacefully, they would notice the piles of bones and skulls that hung across the walls. And if that wasn't enough, there were large swaths of clotted liquid of various colors that seemed to have made their place in the room a long time ago. The third most noticeably thing was the looming silence in the air, as only the sound of the bells could be heard. The lion's movements as it stirred from its sleep?
Completely inaudible.
The lion shifted on its hind legs as its yawning jaws disturbed its own mane, and the bell rings abruptly stopped when it had shut its mouth. The lion then condensed, shifting from its striking size into a humanoid form.
A young man stood in the spot where the lion once was, his face somewhere between masculinity and femininity. Like all Guides, he was quite the looker, as if whoever had conceived him had taken great efforts to bless the man with artistic feature that could only be wrought by the most passionate painters, or maybe sculptors.
His hair was the same color as the lions...entirety, though it lacked the luster the metallic sheen had provided. A fringe spread over barely visible pairs of brass-colored brows, and two offshoots of hair shot past his jaws and ended near a pointed chin, one just as sharp as Bie's. A fine nose and two wide opened eyes with large blue irises that grew lighter near the bottom was accompanied by long burnished brass eyelashes.
The young man's hand was clothed by white gloves that rubbed at his eyes before he let out another noiseless yawn. He straightened his priest's vestments, before making his way out of the room. As he left, sound filled the room, as if he carried the sound with him.
"...! ...!" A woman wearing a nun's veil from which locks of silver hair fell down from waved her arms wildly, in an attempt to catch the young man's attention. The young man in turn flashed a smile that showed off his pearly whites, before stopping with a funny look on his face.
-You can't speak, can you?
This message was transmitted into the woman priest's mind, sighing in relief as she nodded. The silence gradually faded away as the man gave a bow as an apology, and then clasped his hands together while he waited for her to speak.
"Dear Grand Inquisitor Atiche, this priest humbly brings a message from our Her Holiness, Cardinal Legacia the Wailing Apostle. May I speak it?"
"Oh, so she has finally broken her prayer? Please do."
The woman smiled as she imparted her message. "I'm afraid not sir Grand Inquisitor. She has, however, taken a parley in order to ask you to come see to the newest childe that will be arriving here shortly."
"Well, who am I to refuse an order from the Cardinal? I'll be on my way, so thank you very much for waiting for me. Oh, and thank you for not disturbing my nap!"
Atiche gave her a polite smile as he nodded at her to show his thanks. He hummed along with the soft ring of the bell that was from his uvula, his heart, and the Ela--the almost cross crucifix, that was stuck inside one of his pockets.