The sun was barely rising when the house erupted into lively movement and voices. My alarm rang but I ignored it, pulling the covers over my head until Dad shook me awake. We had a flight to Paris, but it was too early to be moving all about the place. I liked Paris, but this- this was too much.
We had six hours before the flight, so I couldn't understand the fuss and urgency Mum and Dad had. Still, I got up, bathed, brushed my teeth, and packed everything I could possibly need in my entire life. Mum made sure of that, stuffing in three books I wasn't ever gonna read for good measure.
Dad's car horn blared from outside. "C'mon, ya bunch o' slow pokes! We're gonna miss the flight!"
Mum sighed and turned to me with a weary smile. "Go on and zip the luggage, pack ya things. I'll go tell your father to shut up." She kissed my forehead before leaving, her voice fading as the door closed.
"Gerald, quiet down! You're waking the neighbours!"
I struggled with my luggage, zipping it up with a grumble. Dragging the thing felt like pulling a dead body. It barely budged.
"Well, we don't wanna miss the flight, love! Like I always say, 'early is on time, and on time is late.' Where's this boy now? Agnus!"
"I'm comin'!" I groaned, pulling the massive suitcase through the doorway. "Dad, I think I need help with this one! Mum packed too much!"
I heaved the thing, finally giving up as I looked back into my room. Only… it wasn't my room.
Instead of the familiar hallway that led downstairs, I was surrounded by cobbled stone walls. I turned toward the door again, but instead of seeing Dad and Mum rushing me out the door, they were waving goodbye, fading into the distance.
"Mum! Dad!" I ran toward them, but the room seemed to stretch, pulling them further and further away no matter how fast I moved.
Then, the light hit me,sharp and blinding. I gasped awake, the pale morning light creeping through the narrow slits of the tower room's walls. My cheek was wet. I wiped it dry and swung my legs off the bed, landing on the carpeted floor.
I look around the empty room and realise how alone I really am. I want to cry, give up and beg to God to send me back home. I bury the thought and pace the empty space and let time pass me by.
Glancing at the small, narrow window, I saw the sprawling capital below. The city, with its bustling streets and vibrant life, seemed a world away from my cold, isolated prison. I muttered to myself in frustration, "What in the blazes did they think I'd be doin' here, aye?" I an ant out the widow, the frustration in my voice evident. The words of the Queen still stung sharply in my memory, each one a harsh reminder of how screwed I am because of Tobu.
I finally look out from the slits in the wall that made up my window, I over-look a brilliant polished granite towers, fat at different sections of its length that spit out from the torn open earth the makes a canyon out of it. My tower is high, I don't hear the folks praddling about the high rise. This really is a beautiful place, I just don't belong in it.
Footfall fill the hallway, there is a clank of keys and out spills the Queen and broad plated guards, not so decorated like a peacock now. I'm don't even look at her in the eyes, or speak, or move under her judgment.
"I trust that you are well boy." She looks around the room and gesture to a gaurd besides her, they run to get a chair and with a fancy wave she sits."Tell me. About this... Urd of yours and what your purpose you have being here."
I try and lose myself looking at the crowd as I answer, "I don't know how to tell ya about it. 'Can definitely tell ya that coming here was not intentional. I'm stuck here."
"Tobu of Sundown says you are valuable, why?" She keeps pressing.
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words press down on me. "Valuable? I don't know what she's thinking, but I'm just me, aye? Nothing special about me." My voice trembled slightly, but I tried to keep my eyes locked on the view outside. The city of a city, sprawled beneath me.
The Queen tilted her head, eyes sharp, calculating. "Prehaps I miss-judged Tobu's character. She is not one to waste words, nor is she one to make foolish claims. You must have something of worth, or she wouldn't have waged this gambit on you."
I clenched my fists, feeling the frustration build. What could I say? I barely understood how I got here, let alone why Tobu had stuck her neck out for me. "Look," I muttered, trying to keep the annoyance from my voice, "I never asked to be dragged into any of this. One moment I was at home, and next thing I know, I'm in this... place."
The Queen leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. There is no sympathy in them "I have no patience for riddles, boy. What is it about you that warrants my attention? Why should I not have you executed right here, right now? After all, you're a foreign body."
I stiffened, my heart pounding in my chest. I glanced at the guards, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords, ready to act at her command. "I... I don't know what makes me special," I began, trying to stall for time, "but if Tobu thinks I'm worth something, then maybe I am. Maybe I can learn to be. Just give me a chance to prove it. I just need time."
She raised an eyebrow. "Prove it? And how, pray tell, do you intend to do that?"
I hesitated, unsure of what to say next. "I- I want to learn more. I don't want to be a burden. If you give me a chance, I'll find a way to show you."
For a long moment, she didn't respond, just stared at me like she was trying to peel away my layers and see what lay underneath. Finally, she stood, her chair scraping the stone floor as she rose. "You have one week," she said coldly. "If, by then, you have proven to be bad investment... I will have no further use for you."
With that, she swept from the room, she stops and holds her hand to one gaurd wagging her finger, "You will not be gaurding me, but him." She points to me, "makes sure he doesn't do anything stupid for a week. You can do atleast that."
She leave behind the knight who fills the door way with his frame, he slowly pivots from one foot to another to face me. His armour clatter awkwardly filling the air like a robot.
He looks down at me sighing behind his helmet welded into a visage of a frog gasping for air.
"May I leave?" I ask hesitantly.
He slowly step aside letting his movements drag out than what was needed in protest.
-
I stepped out from the room and into the hall, the air cool and dry, the heavy footsteps of the knight behind me echoing off the stone walls. The other towers loomed above me, and through the narrow slits that passed for windows, I caught glimpses of the world outside, the towers rising from the cracked earth of a canyon that seemed impossibly deep, swallowing the ground far below.
The city beyond was like nothing I'd ever seen. Towers made from thick, dark granite slabs shot up from the earth like the jagged teeth of some primeval creature. They stretched high, higher than I could have imagined, their immense size braced with rusty bronze supports and bolts that gleamed dully in the light. Stone bridges arched between them, connecting one towering monolith to another in a vast, interconnected web. And beyond was the city proper, a colorful medieval maze that was a stark contrast to the grim brutality of the high-rise above.
I took a step onto one of the stone bridges, its surface cool under my feet, and felt the faintest tremor run through it as the wind howled between the towers. My guard, the towering knight, followed close behind, his armor clanking with each step. I glanced back at him, half-expecting him to say something, but he only stared ahead, silent and imposing.
The city stretched endlessly below me, a mixture of tight alleyways, colorful rooftops, and bustling markets that I could see from my high vantage point. The towers, though bleak, had a strange beauty to them. Each one was covered in intricate engravings, and where the engravings faded or broke off, the stone had been painted with handprints. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them from the looks of it. Colours smeared across the grey stone like a violent rainbow. Reds, blues, yellows, and greens marked the spaces where the stone bridges met the towers, where people clearly reached to leave their mark.
I was blindfolded and tied before coming up here. "What is this place?" I muttered, more to myself than anyone.
The knight, surprisingly, answered in his gruff, deep voice. "Many things, I, the Spine. It holds the city together."
I raised an eyebrow but said nothing, my eyes traveling across the jagged landscape. I see it now, the fissure, the canyon itself, was like the spine of the world, split open and bleeding civilization from its wound. The towers rose from the depths of the chasm, some disappearing into the darkness below, others piercing through the clouds above. I notice how empty this level is compared like to those that populate the spire.
"I've never seen anything like this," I muttered. "Not even close."
The knight didn't reply this time, just kept walking, his armor making a dull clatter against the bridge. As I walked, I found myself wondering what it was like down there, at the base of the canyon where a city, the surface that surrounds them and the people who made homes along the great structure. They thrived. The contrast between the colorful medieval streets below and the towering, grim stone structures above was almost unsettling.
"Can I go down there?" I asked, gesturing vaguely to the streets far below.
"No," the knight replied simply. "You're to stay in the Spine."
"Of course," I muttered. The Queen wanted to keep me under her thumb, and I wasn't about to argue.
I continued along the bridge, the wind pulling at my hair as I looked over the edge. Below, I could make out tiny figures bustling about, carts and stalls lining the path. It was strange to be so high up, so distant from the world below, like I was trapped in a different reality.
As we crossed another bridge, walking around the hundred meter wide building I noticed a small group of people gathered on the platform ahead. They were clustered near the base of one of the towers, where the stone was covered in more painted handprints. One of them, a man with a brush in his hand, was adding his own mark to the wall. He glanced up as we approached but quickly returned to his work, dipping his hand in paint and pressing it against the cold granite.
I slowed my pace, watching as he worked. "What are they doing?" I asked the knight.
"Tradition," he replied. "Everyone leaves a mark when they come here. To say they were part of it."
I stared at the man's handprint on the wall. It was bright red, standing out starkly against the grey stone. It felt almost defiant, like a rebellion against the cold, unfeeling architecture of the Spine.
I asked we could atleast go lower and see more people in 'The Spine'. He didn't say no, but he didn't say yes either. I went either way to what seemed like the resident area and the bridges seemed more alive as the vines stretched this far. Kids played, elders trolled telling their millionth tales. On a bench is a was a man head deep into his book.
The anothe gust of wind rushes through and rips a page from the book and escapes him. I catch it on reflex look at the page mentioning something about imbuing an item to heat up with a charge.
Then interrupts me rush to me with a hand outstretched. The man hesitated for a moment, then reached out, snatching the page from my hand with a quick motion. "Thanks, boy." he muttered, barely glancing at me before crumpling the page slightly in his grip. His eyes darted around the area like a mouse searching for predators.
Curiosity got the better of me. "What's on that page, then?" I asked.
He stiffened, giving me a sharp look. "Nothin' you need to worry about."
I frowned. "Seems like more than nothin'. I saw somethin' about heatin' up an item, maybe magic? Is that what it is?"
The man's eyes widened for a second before narrowing again. He quickly shuffled on the bench, clearly uncomfortable. "We don't use that word here," he muttered under his breath, lowering his voice so much I had to lean in just to hear him properly.
"What word? Magic?" I pressed, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, but keep yar voice down!" he hissed, glancing around again. "Folk don't take kindly to that word."
"Why not?" I asked, crossing my arms. "Where I'm from, it's just what it's called. Nothin' wrong with sayin' it."
The man sighed, his shoulders slumping as he looked at me more seriously. "Look, here we call it 'crafting'. Try yar best to learn the word instesd. It's not magic like the old tales, not somethin' wild and uncontrollable. But callin' it that? Makes people uneasy, around these parts especially." He looks around the trolling people.
I furrowed my brow, my curiosity growing. "So, it is magic, though, right? Like, you can imbue things, use spells, that sorta thing?"
The man nodded slowly, his expression guarded. "Yeah, somethin' like that. But it's best yar don't go asking folks about it. Not everyone's as open as me." His eyes flicked to the knight behind me, his meaning clear.
I nodded in understanding, my mind racing. So they did have magic, even if they didn't call it that. There was a lot more to this place than I'd thought, I'm kinda relieved for it.
Then I'm hit with an idea and turn to frog face, As the man hurried off with his page, an idea smacked me square in the face. Magic- well, craft, whatever they called it here- was my ticket. If I could learn it, maybe I wouldn't be so bloody useless. I could show the Queen I wasn't just dead weight.
I spun around to the knight, grinning like an idiot. "Oi! I should learn that craft, aye? Imagine it- me, flingin' fire or somethin'! Could actually be useful!"
The knight stared at me through his helmet, dead silent. Then, in the driest voice imaginable, he muttered, "No."
I blinked. "What? Why not?"
He sighed, the sound rattling through his armor. "You'd burn your face off."
I stared at him, mouth open. "I wouldn't-"
"You would."
"How do you know?"
"Trust me," he said, turning on his heel, "I've seen it."
I groaned, following after him. "Ach, ye big clankin' pessimist!" I stop and look around the place as the wind still billowed, "Where are ya goin'?"
He didn't answer instead gesturing to follow him, striding ahead of me, his heavy footfalls echo. His focus was straight ahead. My heart pounded in my chest at a dangerous idea I wanted to try, as I glanced at the narrow bridge spanning the canyon below. It stretched like a rope between the towers, far above the bustling cities I wanted so desperately to reach. I couldn't wait any longer.
Without a second thought, I turned on my heel and bolted.
My runner shoes slapped against the floor as I ran as fast as I could, heart racing. The knight's heavy armor clattered behind me, and I heard him bellow in frustration, "Boy! Stop!"
I didn't stop. I sped across the bridge, weaving through a few surprised passersby, and aimed for the nearest door. A quick glance back told me the knight was gaining, his massive frame moving with surprising speed despite the clunky armor. I needed to lose him- fast.
I darted through an archway, rushing into the interior of another tower. My eyes scanned wildly for any way down. There it was- something I heard recognize even after being blindfolded; a lift in the corner of the room, ancient and stone-carved, with no levers or controls, just strange sigils etched around the platform. I rushed toward it and, without thinking, shouted, "Down!"
The lift jerked beneath my feet, and with a sharp jolt, it began to descend. I barely had time to catch my breath before I realized it was moving much faster than I anticipated. I peeked over the side, watching the levels blur past as the lift plummeted. I was heading down far too quickly.
"Stop! Stop!"
Nothing happened.
The lift continued its mad dash downward, and my stomach twisted in knots. I was going to shoot past the surface city if I didn't figure out how to stop it. But how? It had worked when I said 'down,' but now it wasn't responding at all.
The blur of levels suddenly came to an abrupt stop as the lift crashed into the ground below with a loud crack. The stone beneath my feet splintered, and I stumbled forward, barely catching myself before I toppled over.
"Great," I muttered, wincing at the sight of the shattered lift. "Guess I'm not going back that way."
I limped off the platform and into what looked like a darker, more narrow part of the city. The towering structures still loomed overhead, but this place had a different feel. The streets were narrower, more confined. Less light made its way down here, and the air felt cooler, like I was descending into the very belly of the Spine. I needed another lift to get back to the surface.
I trudged down a cramped alleyway, into the open where a ray of light cast down a bench and atop it is a old man. Smoke bands lazily from a pipe.
"S'cuse me sir, where am I?" I asked, "Bram town boy. Yar lost?"
I nod, "how'd I get back up to thw surface?" I pointed up. He followed my finger then back at me, "A fee." He took his pipe out his mouth, "Not from Vatu are you boy?" His lips stretch as he eyed my cloths.
I leave quickly without direction.
That's when I noticed a woman leaning casually against a wall. Around my age it looks like. Her eyes caught mine, and she offered a sly smile.
"Excuse me," I said, trying to sound polite despite the growing tension in my gut. "D'ye know how I can get back up to the surface?"
She pushed off the wall, walking toward me with a graceful sway in her worn colourful jumpsuit. "Of course," she purred, "but it'll cost ya."
"Cost me?" I frowned. "I just need directions."
The woman's grin widened looking around me, but before I could react, a group of boys- no older than me, if not younger- appeared from behind me. I barely had time to register what was happening before they grabbed at me and brought me to the floor.
"Oi!" I shouted, struggling to break free, but they were quick and coordinated. In a matter of seconds, they had my shoes off, tossing them back and forth between them.
"These'll fetch a pretty penny!" one of them cackled.
"Those are mine!" I growled, trying to rise but they easily shoved me back.
"Not anymore, match stick," another boy snickered, stepping closer with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He reached for my pants.
"Oh, ye better not-" I started, my voice raising in protest.
But they were already tugging at them, laughing as they tried to yank them off. Fueled by humiliation and anger, I fought back harder this time to break their hold and flipped onto my back, kicking one of them square in the nose. He yelped, stumbling backward. I puched one and wrestled the other of me. I quickly stood up barefoot.
I didn't wait for their reaction. I bolted, my feet pounding against the pavement as I sprinted through the streets, the sound of their barks chasing me. But they weren't giving up. I could hear them behind me, their footsteps closing in fast.
I rounded a corner and nearly crashed into a wild-looking man, his hair messy and his clothes disheveled. He glanced at me, then at the boys chasing me, before stepping aside with an amused grin. "You better fight back, man!" he called after me, clearly entertained by the whole thing.
"Fight back?" I shouted, exasperated. "I'm der's too many!"
He shrugged looking at my feet then to the pair that carry my shoes. "Doesn't matter. What, you gonna let 'em take your panties next?"
The boys were gaining on me. Heart pounding, I whirled around and faced the gang, bellowing an incoherent scream.
"Awright, ye want a fecht? Come an' get it!" I shouted.
The boys hesitated, surprised by my sudden bravado, but then they charged. I swung wildly screaming, landing a few lucky punches, but they were tougher than I anticipated. They knocked me around, landing blows to my ribs and back, but I refused to go down without a fight.
It went on like a drunken bar fight. We all tired, difference is I barely let it show, they ran away with my shoes.
Panting and battered, I shouted at them through gritted teeth, "I'm Agnus of House Caelan, son o' Earth! Ya pissants!"
The wild-looking man laughed from the sidelines, clearly enjoying the spectacle, but when he heard me, he cocked his head in confusion. "What'd you just say? Urd?"
"Nah..." I spat, "I said Earth!"
"Sounds like Urd to me."
"Well, it's the accent bugger of will ya."
The man sauntered over, clapping slowly. "Nice job. Name's Flint. You're not bad for a kid who can't even say 'Earth' right."
I glared at him, still catching my breath. "I said it fine."
He snorted. "Sure you did."
I scowled. "What d'ya want, anyway?"
Flint raised an eyebrow, as if I'd just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. "What I want? Well, I want to help you, obviously. Could tell from the way you ran that ye got some fight in you. Shame about yar shoes, though." He gestured to my now bare feet.
"Thanks for pointing that out," I muttered, wincing as the reality of my situation hit me. I'd lost my shoes, been beaten up, and now I was stuck in a stranger place I didn't know. All in all, it was shaping up to be a brilliant day.
Flint leaned in, eyes glinting with something like mischief. "Tell ya what. I'll teach you a thing or two about craft. Might help you avoid endin' up in this mess again."
I straightened, suspicious. "For free?"
He glanced down at my trousers, the grin widening. "Well, maybe not entirely free..."
I put my hands over my crotch, "Tryna get in me pants?! No."
"No! I'm not a pervert! I'm tryna get yar pantbyou darf!
"Me trousers?" I frowned, stepping back. "Ye're joking."
Flint grin returns, "A deal's a deal, man. Trousers for knowledge. Seems fair to me."
I sighed now pants-less too, my dirty army camouflage pants in Flint's hands.