The next morning, Edmund said farewell to his daughters. The twins hung onto him, sobbing, even as the caretaker pulled them away. After a reassuring kiss on their foreheads, the hunters left 13th Sternen Road. Closing the door quickly as Whiskey the orange cat tried to slip out with them.

  They walked along the street circling the spire high above the city, the other sky-shattering towers cast long shadows over the smog-filled streets of the Lows. Astrid stomped behind the rest, dragging along a bag twice her size. Wretch in the middle with just a suitcase in hand, a round hat pushed down and sunglasses over his eyes.

  “I have never been to the train station,” Wretch said.

  “You’ll like it, though we should stop by one of the Saints’ churches before leaving,” Edmund said.

  “Didn’t take you for the religious type, Captain,” Elenya said, each of her steps clattering with the metal weapons in her pack.

  “My wife liked to do it before leaving the city,” Edmund said. Wretch knew what lay beyond the wall. A scattered few strongholds connected by rail, each desperately clinging to life in a wilderness that wanted them dead.

  “What’s that on your neck?” Elenya said, squinting and leaning over to peer down his collar.

  He gave a weak smile. “That’s my new skin. It doesn’t feel as good, but it’s a lot thicker.”

  “Is that from that crab-eel thing we fought?” Elenya asked with a pondering expression.

  Wretch shrugged. “It is.”

  “Well, aren’t you working hard. But don’t hold that nose too high, I’ll be a Fireling in no time.” Throughout the conversation, Astrid huffed and puffed under her massive backpack, struggling to keep pace.

  "How've you been doing little man, I can see the bags under your eyes even with those glasses." The giantess continued.

  "Fine, just fine," Wretch mumbled in response. That was a lie. What little sleep he caught was marked by gruesome nightmares and the itch was growing stronger. That itch to hurt. They walked along the walkways and bridges between the spires, the dizzying heights revealing miles of the city below when the smoke clouds from the industries did not blind them.

  Wretch shook some thought away and focused on his path forward.

  I'm a Fireling. Then there is Blaze. Beyond that, somewhere above, Pyre. I've already kindled four times. Lets hope for an eventful mission and I'll rush straight to the next tier, then none will be able to stop me.

  A gust of wind tugged at his hat, and he sighed. “Isn’t it kind of strange how little knowledge there is about being Blessed and how it all works?” Wretch said. “We don’t even know more than the first few tiers.”

  “Maybe no one knows how it works,” Elenya said.

  “Or it’s kept secret for good reason,” Edmund answered.

  Wretch held onto his hat. “When my flame gets too low, it starts whispering. Is that the flame speaking or who is it?” Wretch let his gaze trail over the railing to the Lows beneath. “And why did it choose me?”

  “Don’t listen to it,” Edmund said with a nod. “I’ve seen a man drain it all. He screamed until his vocal cords split.”

  Elenya turned to Astrid, her legs trembling on the walkway. “Alright, little scholar, you have suffered enough.” She put a hand on Astrid’s shoulder and slung the oversized pack onto her broad back. In the hands of the red-haired warrior, it looked to weigh nothing.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Thanks,” Astrid said between heavy breaths. “Actually, I have a theory about that.”

  “Of course you do,” Elenya mumbled.

  “Well, I was always a great cultivator up in the Emerald Spire, the one that grows crops and food. You can recognize it from all the glass and greenery. My powers kind of reflect that. So what did you excel at, Wretch the Rat-Eater?” Astrid asked.

  “That’s not my name anymore, but I guess surviving, climbing, and crawling through tight pipes,” Wretch said with a shudder.

  “See, that fits,” Astrid said, pulling her coat tight. “How about you, Edmund the Selfless?”

  “I am a good leader. Perhaps I have a tendency to put myself second,” he said with a smile.

  “So it seems if you are talented or become specialized at something, you may become Blessed,” Astrid said. “The chance increases if your life is on the line, but it is not mandatory. I became Blessed after making a rare orchid bloom in captivity. The first recorded domestication of the plant.”

  Wretch and Edmund nodded as a carriage sped by.

  “Wait, what about me?” Elenya said.

  The trio looked at her in silence and they stepped off the walkway onto a curved road spiraling down a minor spire.

  “What?” Elenya said with a glare.

  “Elenya,” Wretch said, reaching up to pat her shoulder. “I have seen you do things that would make a serial killer blush. We all know what you are good at.”

  She looked down at him with squinted eyes, her pale cheeks taking on a hint of red. “You become a Fireling, carry sunglasses, and suddenly you’re hot stuff, huh? Little guy, you better show off that new Blessing or I am throwing you down the spires, for real this time.”

  Wretch just flashed her a faint smile.

  They approached a pair of stairs leading up to an imposing stone church crammed between churning industries and housing. Soot and pollution stained the reliefs, each depicting the Saint or martyrs of ages past.

  “Thank you for the insight, Astrid,” Edmund said, casting a glance at Wretch and Elenya as they ascended the rough steps. “Now you two, be on your best behavior. No bickering, cursing, chasing, climbing, or biting, understood?”

  “Yes, Captain,” they sighed in unison. They walked up to an open gate. Above it, a round window of painted glass displayed a four-winged woman in white, her eyes covered.

  The Saint has never helped me before. Maybe she prefers the strong.

  He remembered being in a church with his mother, muddled recollections of benches in rows and a booming voice praising something he did not understand, all while hunger gnawed at his stomach. He had not entered one since.

  Second time for everything. Keep going forward or someone will use you to move forward themselves.

  They entered the church. It was early morning, and only a handful of visitors occupied a chamber that could fit hundreds. A path of white stone split long rows of wooden benches, leading up to an alabaster statue. The stone depicted a woman with four wings unevenly wrapped around her thin frame. She wore no clothes, only feathers piercing her stone skin in patches. Three wings clung to her body while one covered her face, leaving a slit for eyes trained on the entrance.

  The Saint was never depicted with exposed eyes, much like her servants, obscuring their gaze by clinging white veils. Wretch looked at her as he followed the others toward the altar. A knot formed in his stomach and he made a silent prayer to the Saint that enemies of the city would find them sooner rather than later.

  A veiled priest made them kneel before the statue. A rough voice betrayed his age, and unlike the statue, he was round, appearing like a half-melted candle beneath his white veil and robe. “Oh holy Saint, hand of flame and protector of man. Please help these hunters who will leave your perfect city for the cursed wilds beyond your walls.”

  Wretch’s hair stood on end. He looked up at the statue, and the statue looked down at him.

  What is going on? he thought.

  The priest produced a golden inlaid bag with a metal rim. “A gift given willingly can go a long way to the cause of the church.”

  Coins chimed as each of them offered something. Wretch dropped a few pence, perhaps the Saint would help if he took the first step. Edmund took out a handful of coins and dropped them into the bag. The amount and color remained unseen as metal clinked against metal.

  Edmund thanked the priest, and they walked back the way they came. Wretch cast one last glance at the statue. It remained unmoved, yet he could not shake the uneasy feeling that something else was there, something unseen, watching them.

  Outside, Wretch drew a deep breath of polluted air and sighed in relief.

  “First time in a church?” Astrid asked.

  “Kind of,” Wretch said. “I didn’t like it. You felt like something was watching us?”

  “I always find them serene, calm,” Astrid said with a smile as they walked down the steps to the busy street below. “Maybe the Saint gave us one last look.”

  Edmund tucked his wallet deep into a pocket. “Enjoy the city while you can, folks. We are leaving it for a while.”

  “Time to see what is outside this cage,” Astrid said, fidgeting with the buttons of her dress.

  Time to find some Gulschaks and horrors, Wretch added in his mind.

  MESSIAH OF STEEL

  When faith meets firepower… sparks will fly.

  Derek Steele was once a man of science, a brilliant engineer who built his own power armor from scavenged alien tech. He believed in data, not destiny. Then a relic from a forgotten civilization ripped him from Earth… and dropped him into a realm where magic spheres grant power, and gods rule through their chosen champions.

  Messiah of Steel.

  “Iron Man crashes into epic fantasy and nothing will be the same.”

  New chapters every week ? Progression Fantasy ? LitRPG