The Chieftain's directions had been simple enough in theory.

"The Hall of Restoration," he'd said, "you'll find it in the Northern Segment of the Fourth Layer."

In practice, it was as good as telling me to find a single grain of gold in a desert.

I remained seated on the courtyard tiles for another fifteen minutes, waiting for my mana to climb back to usable levels. The numbers flickered steadily upward, one point every few breaths.

Before long, I was fit enough to move again, so took off, out towards the city.

------------------------

The sight waiting beyond the layer's edge made me pause.

The chasm of that vast inverted cone was so deep, the bottom blurred into shadow. From here, the Divide I had crossed weeks ago seemed a crack in comparison.

I counted fifteen visible tiers before the light thinned too far to see.

Fourth Layer, he said… but, fourth from the top, or the bottom?

I exhaled through my nose. Of course, he didn't specify which.

For the next few minutes, I wandered. The uppermost ring—the First Layer, if my assumption was right—was quieter than I'd expected. Narrow lanes stretched between obsidian buildings polished smooth, some line with runes, some without. The occasional Dhrokari passed by, their faces turning only briefly toward me before slipping into doorways, and going on about their lives.

It seemed the population was much larger than I was led to believe based on those I'd seen during the Trials.

My first thought was to find an access path down, near the edge. Some stairway, perhaps, or a lift. Instead, I found winding corridors that looped back into each other, arches that opened into more arches, and half-constructed bridges that stopped midway across thin air.

By the tenth dead end, I had started to notice something else---a presence.

At first it was faint: the scrape of feet that stopped when I stopped, the faint rustle of cloth behind a wall. One of my awarenesses tracked my path, navigating the city, and the other drifted outward, focusing on whoever seemed to be following me.

Their pace matched mine, distance constant. When I turned sharply, they vanished from direct sight.

I adjusted course, heading down a quieter lane with only wind for company.

After a few turns, the movement came again---shadows shifting between rooftops.

And that's when recognition hit.

A sigh left my throat before the smile did. This guy…

I turned a final corner, then stopped short.

"Horus."

The name carried down the narrow street.

A small head popped out from behind the wall—a mess of blonde hair tied in a short knot above his head. The boy flinched like a cat caught mid-theft.

"Ah—uh, good morning, honored Hunter!"

I folded my arms. "You've been following me."

He froze, one hand gripping the wall. "I was merely… ensuring your safety."

"You?" I arched a brow. "Ensuring my safety? From what, exactly? The empty pathway?"

His grin faltered. "F-Fine. I was ensuring my own safety."

I stared. He swallowed, shoulders curling in. "The pact," he blurted. "It makes it so I must serve you with absolute loyalty...or I'll face divine punishment."

"Divine punishment?"

He nodded solemnly.

"Explain."

"The stakes of a blood-pact are enforced by the Great Mother herself. Regardless of the content of the terms, if they're not upheld after agreement…"

"I see."

I adjusted my grip on the axe haft slung across my back. "Well then, since you're so eager to serve, you can start by taking me to the Hall of Restoration. Fourth Layer, Northern Segment."

Horus hesitated for half a second, then exhaled like a man accepting his fate. "Alright."

------------------------------

Contrary to my earlier assumptions, the way down wasn't at the city's outer edge. It was within its heart.

Horus led me along narrow alleys until the ground began to slope, opening into a massive tunnel that ran in a perfect ring through the center of the layer. Transparent quartz panels lined the floor, and beneath them, golden sand flowed in a slow, rippling current.

"The Arteries," Horus announced, puffing out his chest. "The city's veins! They carry you from segment to segment, or down to the next layer. Fastest way to travel!"

He jumped onto the moving sand, landing lightly. The current caught his feet, carrying him forward at a steady glide. He spread his arms like a child testing the wind.

I stepped onto it after him. The sand gave slightly underfoot, then began to move.

The sensation was strange---half walking, half floating. The current tugged forward gently, like the pull of a calm tide.

The tunnel gleamed with refracted light from the surface mirrors far above. Gold threads crossed and shimmered across the walls, turning the entire artery into a living thing.

Further ahead, the current spiraled downward into a glowing vortex of sand. Travelers stepped into it one after another and vanished below.

"The Sand Elevator!" Horus shouted back, beaming. "You'll love this part!"

"I'll take your word for it."

The sand swallowed him in one fluid motion, and a faint laugh echoed up through the tunnel.

I followed a moment later.

The sensation was immediate and strange: gravity folding sideways, momentum turning liquid. The sand flowed around me in spiraling motion, warm and alive, yet it never stuck to my skin. The descent lasted only seconds before light opened below again.

We stepped out into another artery, the air cooler here, the ceiling lower. A sign etched into the wall read Third Layer - Western Segment.

"Two more," Horus said, still grinning.

We repeated the process twice more, diving and emerging in rhythmic succession until the fourth layer opened beneath our feet.

The Fourth Layer felt different.

The air was thicker here, carrying the scent of spice and smoke. Shops lined the street edges, built from black sandstone polished to a mirror sheen. Threads of gold light caught on hanging banners, reflecting in fractured patterns across the walls.

Crowds moved in calm streams—hunters, merchants, craftspeople, children tugging at their parents' robes. Despite the population, there was no chaos. The flow of people matched the rhythm of the city itself.

"This way!" Horus called, weaving ahead, giant greatsword knocking against his back with every step.

We passed rows of food stalls where sizzling cuts of meat turned on spits. The scent alone was enough to stir something primal in my stomach.

"Breakfast?" Horus asked, already slowing near a stand.

"I have two hours to recover before we depart," I said flatly. "I'm not wasting it eating."

He glanced back at me, eyes wide. "But the food here's reeeeaaally good."

"I'll live."

"Not if you don't eat you won't," he mumbled, already handing the vendor a few unique-looking coins.

Huh. I don't have any money, do I?

Steam rose from the skewer he held out. The meat glistened with red oil and herbs I couldn't name. My nose caught the scent of roasted beast-fat, faintly sweet.

I sighed. "Fine."

The first bite silenced my protest entirely.

Tender. Charred just enough to crisp the outer layer, while the inside melted apart. Whatever seasoning they'd used burned pleasantly at the edges of my tongue.

I finished one skewer before realizing I'd reached for another. Horus grinned knowingly, both cheeks stuffed full.

"This one's flame-lizard," he said, muffled. "Spicy!"

"Not bad," I admitted, finishing the last piece, then reaching for another.

For a few quiet minutes, we simply stood by the stall, the sound of sizzling fat and murmuring voices weaving together. The warmth from the sand tunnels below radiated faintly through the stone, making the entire street feel alive.

Then the noise changed.

Somewhere behind us, a shout cut through the market chatter. Not angry—but commanding.

The crowd began to shift, ripples spreading through the flow of movement.

I turned slightly. Beyond the mass of people, figures were forcing their way forward.

"Oh, uh..." Horus muttered around a mouthful. "That sounds..."

"---like it's going to be troublesome." My eyes narrowed, "Come. Let's get a move on."

Voices rose, echoing closer:

"WHERE IS THE OUTSIDER?!"

The word cracked through the air like a whip.

Horus froze mid-turn. And what I'd suspected proved true.

Challengers...

The group of people were still a distance away, but closing fast. The people around us began parting instinctively, leaving a widening path straight toward the stall.

I sighed. "So much for a quiet meal."

Horus looked up at me, expression somewhere between 'I'd like to help' and 'This is all you'

I didn't bother berating the boy, instead finishing off my meat skewers, then letting my hand settle on the axe handle over my shoulder, purely out of habit.

The shout came again, louder this time, echoing through the fourth layer's busy streets.

"WHERE IS THE OUTSIDER!"

I turned to face the oncoming crowd---the fourteen other youths from the Trial I'd interrupted.

My pulse settled into its usual steady rhythm.

Looks like the Hall of Restoration will have to wait.

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A/N: Please! Golden Tickets! Power-Stones! And perhaps more importantly, Reviews!!! I need 10 in total to have an actual rating but we only have like 5 or 6 :(

Gimme your thoughts! Doesn't have to be complicated, just whatever comes to mind >.<

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