Book 4: Chapter 1: Athrastas
Book 4: Chapter 1: Athrastas
Chapter 1: Athrastas
One might expect that being in a magical alternate world, Alex would encounter new and exciting situations. Yet, it appeared that experiences inside military cafeterias were simply a boring multiversal.
The mess hall still smelled like old stew. They still got glances and looks that were nowhere near the description of “friendly”. That was something that was a constant reminder they’d been living in someone else’s fortress for the last month. Inside the large room were rows of bolted-down tables which rattled faintly in sync with the cruiser’s engines. The food trays clattered whenever someone laughed or leaned too hard to one side.
It wasn’t home, never would be, but after weeks of the same walls and same routines, it almost felt like being back on Earth in the military barracks. Especially so given the spartan-like military culture they now found themselves in. Something they were far too familiar with.
Garret was halfway through a joke at the time. It was a joke which no one actually wanted to hear, yet everyone listened to anyway. His grin was stretched wide and his hands flew about as if he was conducting some grand orchestra of nonsense. Allie smirked behind her cup, feigning annoyance while her eyes gave her mirth away. Devon shook his head, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously to Alex like a correction to the punchline.
This might have been the fifth time Garret was telling this particular joke.
Across from them, Tom-Tom was busy with his latest obsession. A neat row of forks sat lined up like soldiers at inspection, each one shining with a thin streak of spit-polish. He licked another of the utensils then frowned. After a moment he tossed it aside with an offended grunt.
The growing reject pile on the floor clattered in protest.
“Don’t encourage him,” Kate muttered when Lance asked what the fork-inspection criteria even were. Her eyes carried that restrained fire of hers again, the same look that had burned in them ever since Sarson and Rynel fell to the chimera queens. She didn’t laugh, not that she ever really did, but the fake chuckles sounded extra performative lately.
Alex sat quieter than most, letting the noise go on around him. Holly’s hand was warm in his under the table, her fingers lightly hooked through his own as though she were trying to reassure him. Or maybe it was the other way around?
A few eyes still darted toward them from time to time, a flicker of curiosity or judgment shown on various faces, but no one said a word. Wither they be Worldstrider, soldier or mercenary, everyone had seen enough loss and death not to begrudge anyone a little happiness.
Still, it felt like a precarious thing.
His gaze drifted toward Henry, a near literal shadow clinging behind his calm silence as an emotional present they had received from the fight with the Shadow Chimera Queen. Alex knew the large man, just as Garret, felt guilty about what happened to Eric. The two of them were working through that in their own ways. One never shut up, and the other never talked. So mostly just their normal selves, just cranked up a few dozen extra notches.
Holly shifted beside Alex, her own freshly grown leg still twitched every so often despite her easy posture. He knew every step she made wasn’t fully confident yet even after fighting on it not so long ago.
And Alex himself… his body hadn’t healed right since the [Dual Descending Demon Fist].
Pain lurked in his bones and marrow, his nerves still sent jolting lances of pain sporadically through his muscles. His physical body still felt some kind of undue injury lurking beyond his simple flesh, like fiery spiritual scars that refused to cool or heal. He could move at 100%, and he could fight, but he knew the damage ran deeper than a surface inspection would tell.
What price had he carved into himself this time? He didn’t know.
And beyond the wounds were the mental ghosts that still sat with them. Eric’s empty seat. The void of Rynel’s dry jokes that would never land again. Sarson’s cheery voice, now forever silenced.
They were gone, and yet their memories haunted the table all the same.
Alex exhaled slowly and brushed his thumb against Holly’s knuckles. He’d told himself he wouldn’t falter again, that he wouldn’t let the weight of expectations break him. But some mornings, like this one, the vow felt heavier than a gravity enhancement rune.
The Cruiser hummed, the low thunder of its engines filling the pause between their words, until a voice broke across the mess hall from the etched blockstones along the walls that functioned as speakers.
“Attention.”
Lady Wú Xhiu’s commanding tone rolled through the ship. It carried on the metallic pulse of the intercom. Conversations across the hall all stuttered to stop. Even Tom-Tom stopped licking his forks.
“Prepare for landing. Athrastas is in sight. Offloading begins immediately upon arrival.”
The mess hall stilled in her wake, tension bleeding in through the walls.
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Athrastas; the capital of the Empire. Also known as the Volcano city. The place where their path forward, and whatever traps lay waiting in it, would begin.
Alex tightened his grip on Holly’s hand. The others shifted in their seats, uncertainty written across every face. Their month of drifting was over and the real storm was about to begin.
The mess hall emptied in a quiet shuffle, boots thudding against steel and wood as everyone made their way to the upper deck.
The Cruiser’s halls were immaculately cared for. Polished and clean, everything smelled of wood-oil and ambient aether. The air vibrated faintly with the runes etched into the ship's surfaces. Alex stepped out with Holly at his side, Garret and Devon bickering somewhere ahead, the others trailing behind with wary silence.
When they finally made out onto the edge of the deck, the entire world opened before them.
Athrastas loomed on the horizon. It was a metropolis born from fire and stone. The volcano itself rose like a god’s anvil, its slopes carved down and tamed by centuries of magecraft and sentient construction. Smoke curled up lazily from the peak, its presence not at all wild or threatening, but instead caged by the glittering web of arcane barriers stretching over the caldera which shimmered faintly.
The mountainside was alive with movement and labor-work, with terraces stacked upon terraces. There were fortress walls etched with glowing sigils. Houses lining streets like old medieval suburbs. Whole neighborhoods were dug into the volcanic rock, and all of it was swarming with people.
Towers jutted outward at impossible angles from the mountain, hanging in sheer defiance of gravity. While others floated free in the air, tethered only by chains of aetheric light. Magma channels were cut through the mountain like veins of molten glowing blood, running into and out of specific buildings, the burning liquid turned into rivers of power that lit the city from within.
And at the heart of it all was the caldera itself, the space had been hollowed into a sprawling citadel of marvels. Like an overhanging ocean dock, a slab of incredibly hardened stone hung over the space, with the main city built into and on top of it.
Streets wound in perfect symmetry. The cobblestones were polished smooth and gleaming even from the distance of the floating ship. Sect compounds rose like jeweled crowns at spaced intervals, their banners snapping in the wind. Palace spires pierced the sky with their crystal windows catching firelight and aetherlight alike. And higher still, dominating everything, the Fortress of the Urhara Empire sat enthroned over the volcano’s heart.
Its foundations glowed red, drinking deep from the fire-lake below, and its towers shone with runes too vast and complex for Alex to even fathom. It was as much a statement of power as it was a place of dwelling.
Alex drew in a breath and let it out slowly. Terraxum was also awe inspiring, but it had been mostly sharp edges and cold stone. A kingdom forged by steel and discipline. Athrastas was something else entirely. A city of fire and ambition. A place that had bent nature to its will and demanded the world call it beautiful.
Around him, the others stared just as wide-eyed. Even Kate, who rarely let anything break her mask, had her lips parted in muted awe.
“This…” Alex muttered under his breath, “…this is what a city built for mages looks like.”
Soldiers lined the outer walls of the landing platform in crisp formation, armor shining as they moved in perfect unison. Glyphs pulsed under their feet, reinforcing every step. Above them, floating towers cast long shadows, each bristling with spell-cannons and warding circles. Nothing here looked like it was placed accidentally. Nothing here was weak or undercooked. Even though it was costumed in lavishness, Athrastas was without doubt a place of military power.
The docks themselves, just like the city-heart, jutted out from the mountainside. Some of the massive stone piers were suspended in midair with no visible support, each wide enough to hold a warship. Other ships—sleek corvettes and lumbering cruisers alike—were already moored at the docks. Their banners showed symbols of noble families or merchant conglomerates fluttering from their decks.
The Andreia had once felt massive to Alex. Now it would’ve been swallowed whole by the port alone.
The Cruiser’s descent began, the vast weight of it borne effortlessly on currents of aether. Below, Athrastas waited with all its grandeur and menace. And as the city grew closer, Alex couldn’t shake the thought that they were docking into a lion’s den.
The Cruiser touched down with a low, grinding hum. From the railing, Alex caught a glimpse of soldiers in crimson armor directing formations as well as dockhands running between mooring lines, and administrators with clipboards made of aether-slate.
All of it moved with the rhythm of order, drilled by centuries of repetition.
They disembarked single file, stepping across the dark basalt planks of the pier. The heat of the volcano licked up from below, as though they were standing over a massive forge. The air smelled of ash, and of faint incense drifting from somewhere deeper in the city.
A man in long gray robes intercepted Alex and the others as they offboarded. His eyes were hooded, with his voice flat and monotonous.
“Identities and arrival purpose. All entrants must be registered.”
His tone was mechanical, as though Alex and his friends were no more important than cargo. The man’s gaze flicked to him expectantly. Alex opened his mouth, then realized he had no idea what he was supposed to say.
Are wePilgrims? Prisoners? Survivors?
“Names and purpose,” the administrator pressed. His mouth drew into a line, growing thinner and sharper than before. His lips curled with disdain when no one answered, as though they were already wasting his time.
Alex shifted, biting down his first snarky retort, but before the moment stretched too far a ripple of presence passed through the pier. Lady Xhiu descended the gangway, her robes of dark silk trailing behind her and her eyes bright with that unearthly poise she never seemed to lose.
“These are my honored guests,” she said.
The administrator flinched. His stiff posture broken instantly and he let his head bow. With his tone now smoothed into political velvet he stammered a reply. “M- My apologies, Lady Xhiu. I—I did not realize…”
“You didn’t,” she said flatly. She brushed past him without slowing. “But now you do.”
The man swallowed and stepped aside, all too eager to hide his earlier tone. Yet as everyone followed in her wake, Alex noticed what lay beneath the exchange of words. There was a hierarchy that he didn’t know the rules to in this city. Some sort o Noble status perhaps.
Soldiers peeled from their lines to shadow the procession. Behind them all, Alex saw laborers moving onboard the ship. Some carried lists being written down, catalogues of goods and materials growing longer by the second.
Honored guests? More like self moving cargo. He thought.
Still, with that taken care of, Alex and the others took their first steps out into the continent’s capital city.
And while Alex couldn’t possibly have known it yet; where the System’s Trial Quest timer would finally hit zero.
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