For a time, Trenton’s mind was lost to him, nothing but the soothing, gentle rocking motion as he carefully cradled Kiva’s unconscious form, protecting her from any wrong doers, to still his mind. But then, everything shifted. Colors became sound; sound became light; light became feeling. Up and down no longer bore any meaning, siblings to each other, and yet, blood nearly identical.

  All at once, Trenton felt woozy, confused, elated, and when the world calmed once more, clarity brought forth before his eyes, he was no longer in the Academy basement. The sound of rushing water, thousands of gallons, a single contiguous mass, churning and crashing together into the great expanse below, echoing from behind him. It was a rather familiar sound, the sound of a waterfall, this one many, many times greater than the last.

  Slowly, tentatively, pushing down the horrible throws of his stomach, Trenton pushed himself to a standing position, shaky on his feet. Sure enough, behind them, beyond the sudden drop of the plateau’s cliffside, was a grand waterfall filling the heart of an equally grand basin a thousand feet below. The basin was surrounded by long stretches of land resembling a crescent moon, a single side connecting it to the endless ocean, which expanded as far as the eye could see.

  He’d seen the ocean once before, just before traveling up the Liafer, but now, here so far above the world, it was almost unbelievable that such a thing could even exist. In a way, it was something of a border, an impassable wall blocking them in from every side–the South Ingris Sea. It made one wonder what was actually out there, if anything at all. Did the world simply stop once water claimed it? Hard to believe.

  “I am unwell,” Avardis stated, face notably paler than usual, legs splayed out, no attempt to stand even made.

  “O-oh gods I don’t f-” Leo staggered towards the cliffedge, Trenton grabbing him by the scruff of his collar to keep him from keeling over as he began to hurl the contents of his stomach off into the basin, twinges of blood dotting the vile substance.

  It wasn’t a particularly pretty sight, but Trenton felt more or less the same. Most of it he vaguely remembered from his old studies. Teleportation worked by linking two points in space into one contiguous entity, allowing someone to exist in both spaces simultaneously. When this connection was released, the subject would be taken with one of the two as space snapped back into place, a means of reality correction.

  The only problem was how horrifically violent the process was. A lowly worker would find themselves split in half should they attempt to teleport even a couple feet. With enough resilience, the effect could be mitigated, but it was a risky gamble. Up to this point, they’d only teleported a stray couple dozen miles, hardly a challenge for their war torn bodies. But this had to be…what, 700 or so miles from the Academy? That they were even in a state well enough to stand upright was borderline miraculous, although Trenton doubted that Era would’ve chosen to teleport them so far without guarantee of their survival.

  Karfice looked mostly unbothered by events that had transpired, a comfortable languid air falling over him. He gazed off into the plains stretching atop the plateau peak, something off in the distance having caught his eye. From their distance, it was difficult to make out specifically, but it looked almost like the peak of a cyan spire–infrastructure.

  Avardis picked himself off the ground, managing everything in his willpower to keep himself aloft, “We are no longer in the Academy,” Avardis managed, eyes dimly scanning the mostly open environment.

  “Sure aren’t…” Karfice said, managing to finish before a powerful yawn overcame him.

  They’d been up for some time, fighting through the whole night…again. Even as the pale early morning sun shone down on them, energy was slow to come, mind and body both dragging behind soul. Trenton stooped low to pick up the glowing orb–the child–from the ground, stowing it away in his deep pocket whilst doing his best to set to memory what Era had told him.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “We oughta make some headway before we rest. It’s not safe to stay out here with wounded companions, especially Kiva out for the count,” Trenton decided, housing Kiva, Millie, and Garrote onto his shoulders.

  But just as Trenton stepped forward, he heard something that gave him pause, felt something through the earth that he couldn’t quite explain. It sounded almost like…laughter, little chirps and giggles, barely audible to the naked ear, echoing through the air like they were surrounded on every side. Yet they weren’t. No matter which way Trenton looked, no matter where he searched, he couldn’t deny how truly alone they were. So where was this sound coming from?

  “The air is shaking,” Avardis said.

  “Uh-huh…could you…elaborate on that a little more?” Karfice asked, working himself down into a seated position, slowly slipping onto his back, arms behind his head.

  Avardis did not respond, instead beginning to spin in a small circle, arms held wide. All around them, the air swirled gently, a comfortable breeze carefully directed towards their ears. Where a moment ago stood the vague impression that something was happening, now was a brilliant orchestra laid nearly bare before them.

  High pitched, chipper voices swirled around them, laughing with a mirth Trenton didn’t think possible. They sounded free, unburdened, as if stress wasn’t even a concept in their tongue. Bells rang in triumph, a booming gong which swept the lands, little handhelds only compounding the sound.

  He knew this sound, this ritual. Even if the exact details escaped him, Trenton was absolutely certain he’d done this dance before. They were calling to him, waiting for something. Within the swifts of air, their hands reached out to him, welcoming him. He only needed listen, heed the word of nature.

  Then he heard it, piecing together the plethora of sounds adorning his senses, “Hagbi Atlas gumb!” They chanted, over and over again, hundreds of voices crying out to him in jubilance, the sound of a mother watching her boy return home from bloody war.

  It was a language Trenton did not know, one he’d never heard of before. But something else within him did, their mind seamlessly translating the words for him. “Open your eyes to us, Atlas!” Those were the words they spoke, loosely translated into common tongue.

  Somewhere in the back of his foggy mind, a memory surfaced of words he’d been told long ago by a man long since dead, “Gaze between the chriotic veil, see not what is, not what was, but what could be. The land of the spirits is open only to those willing to dream.”

  So he did.

  Great stone towers encircled by uneven stone stairs began to rise from the empty earth, their foundations built brick by brick before his very eyes. Cobbled streets, which whither wound between small wood and stone houses topped with cyan shingles, were laid out stone by stone, rolling over bridges, which themselves gently arched over naturally flowing, bubbling brooks.

  Wooden cranes snapped together, their simple platforms designed to carry large loads from important structures like the wood mill to the streets for transportation. In fact, they already stood upon one such platform. In the distance, housed clearly in the highest tower in the city, a great bell tolled with the rhythm of the music, joining the melody instilled within the core of every brick, every beam, every stray grain of wheat.

  Now seeing the world for what it could be, Trenton could see the world of the spirits. They flooded the streets, dancing together, laughing together, living together. The ones nearest to Trenton reached out to him, caressing his blistered and weary soul, taking his hands and guiding him in a waltz he’d done many times before, all the while Karfice and Avardis looked at him as if he were a madman.

  They rose into the air, one of the wooden crane platforms lifting them above and through the town's architecture, the spirits never letting go of Trenton all the while. Air spirits flitted past their platform, swimming gracefully through the air, not a care in the world.

  Nature spirits stood atop adjacent buildings. Some jumped and waved their arms, calling out to Trenton in that same familiar tongue. Others sat and watched, pointing at Trenton with their mouths agape, some giggling with their friends, watching him as they would an animal in a zoo. But all were exultant; all were jocose, sorrow, a word they hadn’t known in many millenia.