M.S. Davidson
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14. La-Roc
🕑 Added 2025-08-04 01:35:58 +0000 UTCAs we descended, I suddenly whipped around to look back at the building we'd emerged from, expecting to see that impossible tower stretching into the sky.
Instead, I found myself staring at an imposing but entirely normal building—a centralized dome made from dark stone that looked maybe four or five stories tall. There was no tower. And it definitely wasn't large enough to house that vast jungle we'd walked through for hours.
Plus, I'd been climbing stairs almost all day, going up. Way up.
My brain tried to process the logistics and promptly gave up. Either they'd built an entire underground jungle, or this was some dimensional space fuckery that was ‘bigger on the inside.’
I turned back to catch up with Felix and Elena, who'd been giving me space to gawk like the interdimensional—sorry, transpiritual—tourist I apparently was. The city sprawling before us was loaded with green space—like forest had been allowed to grow wherever it wanted, threading between houses and filling parks that stretched toward the waterfront.
"Oh, Cassandra," Elena said as we continued our descent, "if word of your situation made it to Erik, that means your mother has heard." Her tone carried a genuine warning. "You'll want to let her know you're all right immediately. I really don't need her coming to the city."
Cassie sighed and stretched like a cat preparing to pounce. "I'll handle it." Her voice went serious in a way that made me think Cassie's mother was someone who could probably level city blocks when pissed off.
The stairs finally ended at a wide stone courtyard buzzing with life. A large statue of a spear-wielding warrior dominated the center, while vendor carts spread around it like colorful satellites. Children raced through the crowd clutching treats, their laughter mixing with the din of commerce that sounded remarkably like home.
The smell hit me first—roasting meats and something sweet and unfamiliar, all mixed with ocean salt. People weren't just talking; they were bartering, voices rising and falling in practiced negotiation. One guy had a stack of fish whose scales flickered with actual light, pulsing like tiny heartbeats.
"Headmistress Elena! Good to see you," a smooth voice called.
I turned and found myself face-to-face with my first Sentarian up close. Almost humanoid but definitely not—tall and sleek with a pale exoskeleton that gleamed in the afternoon light. Loose robes draped his frame as he handed out paper bags of roasted nuts with long, segmented arms. When he spoke, his jaw opened like mandibles in a way that should have been disturbing but somehow wasn't.
"No charge, as always," he said, offering Elena a bag. His accent was strangely clipped, precise.
"I keep telling you I don't need handouts, Jorrick," Elena replied, grinning as she produced a small blue coin. “Though, I’m not saying no.”
Turning, I saw Felix and Cassie crouched with two small Gaian children. The older one clutched what looked like a tiny fox that seemed to purr.
"Thanks for saving Reginald, Lady Cass," the older girl said. Maybe seven, with tangled brown hair and bare feet that suggested she'd been running around the city all day.
Beside her, a younger boy with vibrant blond hair toddled forward on unsteady legs.
"Tanks," he managed, his small voice earnest.
The little fox—Reginald, apparently—sensing the boy's nervousness, flicked its bushy tail and nuzzled his cheek. The kid burst into delighted giggles.
"It was really nothing," Cassie said, ruffling the girl's hair with genuine affection.
"What was nothing?" Elena asked with mock maternal authority.
"Something fell near the old merchant hall and nearly hit his fox," Cassie explained with a shrug. "It bolted up one of the abandoned spires and couldn't get down. I was nearby, so I went up and got it. Only about fifty reaches up."
Fifty reaches? The surrounding towers had to be at least fifty meters high. Cassie had casually climbed a crumbling tower to save a pet fox.
Felix chuckled, shaking his head. "She's being modest. The place was falling apart around her—chunks of stone raining down while she climbed. She fell through the floor twice."
Elena nodded with obvious approval. "Not every job has to be a monster hunt."
We continued into the actual city along a sprawling road made of mosaic stone that felt like polished marble. The surface was gorgeous but treacherous—smooth enough that you had to watch your step or risk face-planting in front of the locals.
And people here just... lived. Kids ran barefoot through the streets, vendors and buyers engaged in animated negotiations, couples strolled hand-in-hand between shops. It was so beautifully, impossibly normal.
The buildings lining the road were massive red and tan brick structures, almost Gothic but subdivided into countless stores and dwellings. Windows dotted walls at regular intervals, and steep-angled roofs suggested multiple stories above ground-level shops.
It was like someone had taken the best parts of Lisbon, Paris, and London, mashed them together with a fantasy dreamscape, and dropped the whole thing onto a Mediterranean coastline. From street level, the city felt far less alien than the Tower. Sure, the guy walking past with a lizard the size of a golden retriever was pretty alien, but the architecture? The rhythm of daily life? Brilliant and familiar.
We turned down a side road that curved gently downward, buildings rising like canyon walls. As we walked, several more people stopped Cassie—thanking her for various acts of kindness, asking about work she'd done, treating her like a beloved neighborhood fixture.
"So you all are practically revered here..." I said after our third stop. This time about Cassie putting out a fire after a monster attack. "You're not military, not royalty..."
"Military? Fuck no," Elena said with a laugh that echoed off brick walls. "We leave that to the actual royals in the Central Lands. We just help during emergencies and take preventative action against monsters and spirit realms."
The parallel clicked like a light switch. Everyone loved firefighters because they were always the undisputed good guys in a shitty situation. Monster Hunters were this world's version of firefighters—just with superhuman abilities and way more dangerous emergencies.
"Okay," I said, watching Cassie laugh and mime swinging swords, clearly regaling a small crowd with some monster hunting tale. More than once, someone tried to hug her, and she just froze—going rigid like someone had hit a pause button.
Who would have thought the tall, muscular, Viking-looking swordswoman wasn't a fan of physical affection?
"Cassandra," Elena said with patient sigh, just as Cassie was handed some sort of grilled animal leg that smelled like mutton, "while I appreciate your storytelling skills, I'd much prefer if you made your way home to calm your mother."
Cassie took a massive bite, chewed thoughtfully, and nodded. "I'll go now and come back in the morning. Are we going to help with Ben's training?"
Felix perked up. "Oh yeah! I'd like to help too."
Elena's grin carried equal parts encouragement and warning. "He's going to need all the help he can get with the exams in two months. But don't push too hard—Ben has to find his own path for his Bravery rune."
"Alright, see you tomorrow!" Cassie grinned and jogged away. No, she only looked like she was jogging, but my brain caught up to seeing her leap over crates and people pulling wagons with flourishing spins. She was free-running like it took almost no effort.
Show off.
"I have like a hundred questions," I said, brain spinning. "What does training actually involve?"
"A lot of exercise, fighting, and meditation. Maybe a hunt or two—nothing like a little danger to push your Runebinding forward." Elena's tone was matter-of-fact. "Ideally, you’d find a Seal Candidate before the exams. That should be enough to overpower the testing. If you weren't starting from scratch, I'd suggest binding a Soul Seal since that's automatic admission."
Diana had mentioned something about exams and Seals, but I had no idea what any of that actually meant. Just another item on my ever-growing list of things I desperately needed to understand.
I sighed. "Now I have a hundred and five questions..."
They laughed as we continued until we came to something resembling a town square. The architecture was amazing—buildings with gorgeous turrets and towers, some connected by stone bridges where people leaned over, casually watching the square below. The area felt rich and lively, buzzing with energy.
"Head Mistress Elena!" a voice called out, and suddenly several people turned their heads like meerkats spotting danger.
Within seconds, we were completely surrounded. A dozen Aldertree Florans pressed in alongside a concerning number of Vildar—their eyes bright with excitement. Even merchants abandoned their stalls entirely, jogging over to join the impromptu crowd.
"We heard you slew hundreds of Carapax during the attack last month! Tell us the story!"
Dozens of voices rose in agreement, the crowd tightening into an eager circle. They were absolutely focused on Elena, hanging on her every word before she'd even spoken. She smiled warmly, then her expression shifted to something distinctly more theatrical.
"Oh, I actually believe I had slain the most Carapax during the attack," she said with a dramatic bow.
Several people whooped, and she launched into what had to be the most impossible story I'd ever heard. I caught pieces as my brain struggled with the sheer scale.
She had single-handedly held off massive crab-like creatures for two straight days near their largest harbor. Her specialty was wind manipulation—and she'd used the crabs' own weight against them, literally throwing hundreds into the air as they charged up from the ocean like some chitinous tsunami.
The civilians clamored to add details, recounting how they'd witnessed—but mostly smelled—the carnage from miles away. The entire harbor district had reeked of dead shellfish for over a week.
Elena could have been exaggerating wildly, but after seeing Chas punch an entire tavern into submission and tear open reality, I had no frame of reference anymore. For all I knew, hurling giant crabs around like confetti was just Tuesday for these people.
Once the crowd cleared, I stood there staring at Elena, consciously reminding myself to close my mouth.
"You can control air?" I asked, not bothering to hide the awe.
"I'm not called Windrider for no reason," she replied with a flourish that sent a strong gust whipping through the street—nearly toppling a merchant's entire stall.
"Oh, fuck! Sorry!" She immediately formed a kind of hand gesture, and my ears popped as air pressure shifted dramatically. The wind reversed direction, dragging the wobbling stall back upright with supernatural precision.
She led Felix and me through several more winding streets before finally stopping, looking around with obvious confusion, and sighing heavily.
"I have no fucking idea where we are... Felix, where is Doreen's?"
"Graceful Gods, Mom, seriously?" Felix laughed, shaking his head. "We've been here for over a year and you still don't know your way around?"
"I'm mostly in the Tower, Felix." She turned to walk down a narrow alleyway. "It's this way, right?"
"This way," Felix corrected, steering us down a completely different side street.
The Grand Master, who could hurl hundreds of giant crabs into the air, was directionally challenged in her own city. Somehow, this made her more endearing rather than less.
We eventually emerged onto a wider thoroughfare lined with upscale shops. Huge shanks of meat and links of sausage hung in displays, while a larger establishment caught my attention with its bizarre exterior showcase.
Metallic discs about the size of CDs—complete with holes in their centers—were stacked neatly next to long silver spikes that looked like railroad nails. Next to them sat a rack of tiny vials like perfume samples, each filled with different colored liquids that seemed to emit their own light.
I looked up and found a metal sign with clear letters:
Cyrus's Sundries
Again, I noticed how deceptively normal everything felt. This was a vibrant, bustling port city that just happened to sell magical mystery items alongside groceries.
I was about to ask about the bizarre merchandise when several more people approached.
"Head Mistress Elena! We heard you slew the most Carapax during the attack—you absolutely must tell us the story!"
Another crowd gathered, Felix joining in the recounting this time. The story unfolded exactly as I'd heard twenty minutes earlier, complete with theatrical bows and crowd participation. It felt rehearsed, like a well-practiced routine.
Once this crowd dispersed, I had to ask. "You tell that story a lot?"
Elena shrugged, unbothered. "It's been a while since I've wandered the city streets. People like hearing about what Monster Hunters do to keep them safe."
That made sense. I hadn't seen anything resembling radio or television aside from the slate I had seen Felix give Lana. How else would people get their news?
We'd moved much closer to the ocean, and the salt smell was edging toward proper brine as we navigated increasingly maze-like streets. Felix took us through several back alleys that felt deliberately circuitous, looping in strange patterns that made no geographic sense.
"If we take the main roads, it'll take all day to get to Doreen's with Mom getting stopped every fifty wings," he explained, noticing my confused glances.
I had a decent sense of direction, but these streets were genuinely confusing. Very few marble roads—except major thoroughfares—were actually straight, and constant curves made navigation a nightmare.
The sun was getting low when we emerged in front of a building that looked more like a tavern than a house. An A-frame sign stood out front, and large wooden double doors showed obvious wear from heavy use.
I read the hand-painted sign:
Doreen's House
Hunters Welcome 2 blue/night
Help Wanted: Work for Room & Board
Elena had mentioned Doreen earlier, so this had to be the place. I turned to ask him about it, only to find him hanging back with Elena, who was—predictably—surrounded by yet another group of eager citizens.
"Head Mistress Elena! We heard you..."
I sighed. The story took a solid ten minutes to tell, and I really didn't want to stand around for another performance. Plus, something about the "Help Wanted" sign was nagging at me. Work for room and board sounded exactly like what someone with no money and no local work experience might need.
Yay me.
I pushed through the weathered double doors and stepped inside.
The sudden shift from Elena's outdoor celebrity tour to whatever waited beyond those doors felt like stepping off a cliff.
Time to see what adventures Doreen's House had in store.
