The chains around my wrists and ankles clinked with each step as the guards, hooded and familiar as always, led me out of the Pit's stench. After months of seeing nothing but the same tunnels, the same training ground, the same door and stone walls of my too-little cell, the sight that greeted me in the Dregs hit me harder than any blow I'd taken fighting Kalnari.

From the name, I'd expected some decayed, ratty huts strewn about haphazardly down a narrow tunnel. Instead, I found what looked a whole lot like an old dwarven city stretched out before me, carved into the rock of some massive underground cavern. Stalactites the size of skyscrapers had been hollowed out into towering structures that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, their surfaces polished to a shining grey sheen that caught the light from thousands of glowing crystals embedded in the ceiling far above. Bridges of carved stone stretched between the buildings, creating a web of walkways that formed a kind of spiderweb above us.

It was incredible.

It was the first time since arriving in Reial that it truly felt like I was in a different world, and I was here for it, even considering the circumstances.

"Move." One of the guards shoved me, breaking the spell.

As we descended the winding stone steps that led down from the Pit's entrance, I took in everything I could. The air was different here—not the stale stuff I'd been breathing for months, and not exactly fresh air, but something else. Something old and well-seasoned. Tinging it, there were scents I couldn't place. And the sounds! There were so many sounds. They echoed off the cavern walls in ways that made the whole place feel alive.

"Hold." The guards grabbed my arms and stopped me at the bottom of the stairs. One of them got in my face and pulled his veil down. "If you try anything, criminal, you're dead." He was speaking loud enough that people nearby were starting to stare. "Do you understand that you are only allowed to be here on account of Elise d'Ranthil's will?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

The chains started falling off. As they did, Aerell oozed up to my side and whispered in my ear, "Enjoy this while it lasts. And remember, if you do everything right, this can be your life again."

"Choke on an entire bag of dicks, Aerell."

She chuckled. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Move!" One of the guards shoved me again. I was getting real tired of that real fast, but the Dregs distracted me enough that I quickly forgot about it.

As we walked, I marveled. It was all so alien and amazing. I imagined what I'd do once I was free. Would I choose to live here? Could I? That thought dropped a wet blanket on my thoughts. Would my owner allow me to live here? What would my life even look like? I had no idea.

As I thought and walked, I started to notice something. The buildings were amazing, sure, but the people were a different story. Some of them, anyway. Some were obviously wealthy. I watched what had to be nobles gliding by on platforms that floated in the air, wearing robes that probably cost more than I'd ever make in a lifetime back home, or even here, for that matter. They all had guards with them, too, knights wearing armor so polished I could see my reflection.

Others were clearly powerful. People I figured were mages based on the fancy robes and the way the air seemed to shimmer around them brushed past us from time to time, and adventurers geared up in more armor and weapons than a barracks took up whole streets. Even the regular miners and laborers seemed like a cut above the people in the villages surrounding the temple. It was interesting.

However, right there, next to all that wealth and power, people were openly starving to death.

In one alley, a halfling woman sat slumped against one of the carved pillars. I could count every one of her ribs through her skin. She watched the rich people float by, but she didn't even try to beg. Looked like she didn't have the energy. Next to her, some human guy who might have been thirty but looked twice that age just stared at nothing with hollow, sunken eyes. A few streets past, a goblin mother was nursing a baby in nothing more than rags. Past her, a halfling was tied to a post and had dozens of weeping cuts on his limbs and torso.

"Keep moving, criminal," one of my guards shoved me, but a quick glance over my shoulder revealed the man looked like he didn't want to be here either. Even these bastards seemed uncomfortable. Good.

Every few steps we took, I saw more of the same thing. Rich kids in silk clothes throwing crystals at each other like it was some game, while not ten feet away, an old man coughed up blood into his hands. Down a nearby street, a mage was practicing some kind of magic trick—making little butterflies out of light that danced in the air—while kids with swollen bellies and dead eyes watched from under half-broken crates.

I hated it.

"Enjoying the show?" Aerell said quietly. She'd been keeping close to my side, and I could tell she was getting her usual sick pleasure out of watching me.

"Parts of it."

"The Dregs is a microcosm of the world, is it not?"

I glared at her. "Explain. And speak simply. I'm stupid."

She laughed, then began gesturing at the contrasts around us. "Look at it, Alex. No one's pretending here. The strong take what they want, the weak get what they deserve, and everyone knows exactly where they stand. That nobleman floating by? He earned his power through cunning, magic, or birth—all forms of strength. That starving halfling? She failed to acquire any power worth having." Her voice took on an almost reverent tone. "It's beautifully honest. No false charity, no meaningless sentiment about 'fairness.' Just the natural order, stripped of all pretense."

I watched a child scramble for discarded food scraps. "You call this natural? Good?"

"I call it truth. Elsewhere, people dress up the fundamental inequality woven in the fabric of our nature with pretty words and charitable gestures that change nothing. Here, we simply acknowledge reality—some people are stronger, smarter, more valuable than others. And here, we welcome that reality. In this place where the Goddess's light doesn't touch, the truth is able to flourish."

I shook my head. "This might be your truth, but it's not mine."

"And what is your truth?"

"It's the job of the strong to protect the weak. What use is our strength if we don't use it to make the world better for those who live in it?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "Who elected you to be the arbiter of what is right and good? Who gives you the right to decide for others what they should have?"

I watched a child pick mold off a piece of bread. "No one. It's just something I have the strength to do, so that's what I do. I help people."

She laughed. "So idealistic. I like that about you."

"There's nothing I like about you."

"Oh, trust me. I know."

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People were starting to notice who I was as we walked. I heard voices getting louder, and a little crowd began to form. I could make out snippets of the conversation around us.

"There goes that damn criminal," someone said from a doorway. "What's his name, again?"

"About time Lady Elise decided to spare him," another voice called out.

"Thought he'd rot down there forever."

"He should. You hear what he did?"

Aerell seemed pleased with the reaction. This was all theater, after all. It was a good story, me being the dangerous prisoner getting mercy from some noble lady. I'm sure it put butts in seats.

As we walked, new smells started wafting around us. A mixture of spices, roasting meat, and something sweet that made my stomach clench got thicker in the air. After a few streets, I saw that we'd entered some kind of market that stretched between several of the stalactite buildings. Vendors hawked their wares from stone booths carved directly into the cavern walls of the buildings or out of small stalagmite huts, their voices echoing off the stone walls.

"Fresh bread! Still warm!"

"Spiced lamb! Tender as a maiden's kiss!"

"Honey cakes! Sweet enough to make a grown dwarf weep!"

My mouth watered so bad I had to swallow to keep from drooling. For months, I'd eaten nothing but a thin porridge that tasted like gummy soil and had the texture to match. The guards had told me it was nutritionally complete, designed to keep prisoners healthy enough to fight, but eating it was like swallowing liquid cardboard. Now, surrounded by the scents of real food, my body ached for real food.

A vendor was turning meat on a spit nearby, the fat dripping and hissing as it hit the coals below. The smell was intoxicating, rich and smoky and so different from anything I'd tasted in the Pit that I actually stumbled.

"Keep moving," the guard to my left shouted, but he sounded hungry, too. I liked to think he was, at least. His eyes sure were focused on that meat stick thing.

I tried to take in everything as we passed through the massive market. Bolts of silk in colors I'd forgotten existed. Gleaming weapons. Shining armor. Accessories of all kinds. Jewelry that sparkled with embedded gems, some of which seemed to move with their own inner light.

And through it all, there was that same horrible contrast. A woman in rags begged outside a booth selling enchanted rings. A stick-thin child watched a noble lady sample expensive chocolates, discarding half-eaten pieces to the ground. He snatched them up and didn't even bother to wipe off the dirt before shoving them in his mouth. When he got too close to the woman, she struck him with a cane.

"Don't think about it, Sentinel." The guard to my left had his hand around my arm. I hadn't even noticed I'd stepped toward the noblewoman.

We'd barely made it to the far side of the market when the crowd started to reform around me. It began with whispers, people pointing and staring, but it didn't take long for someone to figure out who I was.

"Hey, it's him!" a young woman called out. "It's the Iron Sentinel!"

That broke the dam. Within seconds, we were surrounded by people pushing forward, trying to get a closer look. The guards reached for their weapons, but Aerell held up a hand.

"Let them," she said quietly, then leaned close to me. Her breath was warm against my ear, and it took everything I had not to elbow her in the face. "This is your chance, Alex. Ham it up. Make them want to see you fight. Remember our deal."

The crowd pressed closer, and I could hear fragments of conversation.

"...never seen him up close before..."

"...bigger than I thought..."

"...those scars..."

"...looks like he could lift a house..."

"...I'd let him lift me..."

"He never wins, though," a girl's voice said from nearby. Searching for the source, I found a girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen glaring at me, hands on her hips, speaking with the kind of skeptical tone that only teenagers could manage. "What's the point of watching someone lose all the time?"

Without really thinking about it, I pointed in her direction. The crowd parted around her. "You think I never win?" I called out, my voice carrying further than I'd intended. The market noise seemed to dim as more people turned to listen. "Well, you're about to find out what I'm really made of!" I pumped my arm and channeled as much wrestling energy as I could. "Because next Sunday night, I'm going to lay the smack down on a little goblin who's been at the top far too long!" I was cringing so badly.

But, instead of rolling their eyes, the crowd was eating it up, pressing closer, hanging on to my every word.

"What do you mean by smackdown, Sentinel?"

"Do you mean the Slasher?!"

"The Sentinel's fighting the Slasher!"

"What's a Sunday?"

I forgot the days were different here, but it was too late to go back. "Next week," I continued, finding a rhythm, "I'm facing the mighty Slasher herself!" I remembered Aerell's words in my cell. "The unbreakable man versus the unstoppable blade. You want to see what the Iron Sentinel can really do? Then you better be there!"

The reaction was instant. And explosive. The girl who'd questioned me screamed—actually screamed—and suddenly everyone was talking at once. The crowd swelled as word spread, people pushing and shoving to get closer. It felt exactly as if I were in the middle of some big WWE event, complete with the theatrical posturing and manufactured drama.

"The Slasher?" someone yelled. "Are you insane?"

"He's dead meat!" another voice called out.

"She's tiny. He'll crush her!"

Aerell was smiling like the Cheshire cat. This was exactly what she'd wanted. I was marketing the death of a friend for people's entertainment and Aerell's benefit.

As I postured, the guards kept us moving forward until we finally broke through the edge of the market. At that point, they began waving the crowd off, and we continued our journey deeper into the Dregs. Behind us, I could still hear people talking, the news of the upcoming fight spreading like wildfire.

Eventually, we reached one of the largest stalactite buildings I'd seen yet. It rose from the cavern floor like a massive stone tube, its base easily a hundred yards across. The surface was covered in intricate carvings that seemed to shift and move in the glowstone light, but the basic geometric shapes always stayed visible. Knights in polished armor flanked the massive front doors, which swung open at our approach. Their faces were hidden behind full helms, but I could feel their eyes were on me as we passed.

The interior was even more impressive than the outside. The walls were lined with what looked like black marble, veined with gold and copper in intricate patterns that looked kind of like lightning. Tapestries the size of movie screens hung between carved pillars, depicting scenes that I couldn't begin to understand. All I knew was that, if the wealthy made the poor look pitiful outside, the wealth in here made the wealthy out there look pitiful. This place housed the real money.

We'd barely taken ten steps inside when a dozen more knights appeared, surrounding us with the kind of professional efficiency that spoke of long practice. They reminded me of the Templars, but their gear was many, many steps above anything we fought with. And these weren't the Pit guards, either. These people were the real deal, their movements precise and perfectly coordinated.

"Hold," their captain, a woman with a blue plume jutting out of her helmet, commanded. She was taller than the others, her armor more elaborate, and her sword's scabbard was covered in jewels. "Search him."

The process was thorough and humiliating. They went over every inch of my body, checking for anything that might pose a threat, and they worked me over with the patience of professionals who'd done this many times before.

"He's clean," one of them reported.

"He can go," the captain said to my guards. They looked uncertain, glancing between me and Aerell. Before I could move, though, she walked close and said, "Try anything. Anything at all. Even blink at Elise wrong, and you'll be dead. Understand?"

"Yeah."

"Good." She stepped backward. "Take him up."

Several of the knights stepped forward, but the Pit guards didn't move.

"You're no longer needed. We will return him when Elise is done."

My guards stepped away, but Aerell didn't move. Instead, her smile widened. I hated that expression of hers with a burning passion. "I control him."

The captain shook her head. "You were not invited."

"He was, and I go where he goes. Otherwise, Lady Elise will be forced to continue to enjoy him from afar."

The captain's fists balled, and for a long while, she didn't speak. Finally, she said, "Okay. But only you."

"Good," Aerell purred as the guards stepped forward and took us by the arms.

The knights led us through a maze of corridors and up several flights of stairs. Everything was carved from the same black stone with gold veins, all of which was polished to a mirror shine. After walking for a time, we made it to an alcove, in which there was a large magical seal carved into the floor.

"Step in," the captain demanded.

With a nod, Aerell stepped forward, and I followed. When we were all standing in the seal, the captain waved her hand over a crystal set in the wall. Then, there was a flash of light, the world bent, and everything shifted. Instead of a long hallway, we were standing in front of a set of massive double doors. They each stood easily fifteen feet tall and were carved with a variety of symbols and scenes.

The knights took positions on either side of the doors, and the doors swung open with synchronized precision.

As the doors swung open, my breath was taken away. The room beyond was unlike anything I'd ever seen.

It was enormous, easily the size of the Temple's Great Hall, with a vaulted ceiling that disappeared into shadow far above. The walls were covered in tapestries and paintings, while the floor had a mosaic of precious stones that formed intricate patterns beneath our feet. Crystal chandeliers cast warm, amber-colored light over everything, making the whole space glow like the inside of a jewelry box.

And there, sitting in an ornate chair near the center of the room, was Lady Elise, looking regal and bored and powerful all at once.

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