“Rushtae?” the hawker said as he cut the moss dotted meat in half. “Never hear'. Now, are you going 'na buy some'ing or wha?”

Luce looked at the meat in the beginning process of rotting and held back bile. “No, hank you.” Her accent was terrible, but enough to not have guards called on her.

She stepped away from the store and continued walking down the busy streets. Ampyre was hot, but was still cool compared to the heat from further down south. The dirt ground was cracked and dry. Balls of mud being kicked around underfoot. Samsuis carried buckets of waste through the streets to be dumped into the mass drain, the latter which stenched carried downwind into the Night Streets where the poorest of the country resided. Here in the Market Streets where the air was clean(er), those with money to spend on basic necessities came to bargain for leftover scraps and poorly stitched clothes. Still with some access to fresh water through long treks to wells and the Helm, the commodity was sold at some roadside stall in old wooden buckets at exuberant prices.

Luce had hoped the poorer districts would have more leads on the tavern they were looking for, but short of bribery, no one seemed to know anything more than to swear and grunt curtly. Still, she had been living outside in the rough for two days now and she did not like how she was starting to smell like her surroundings. She wanted to quickly find the tavern and change into some clean clothes.

She approached a samsui man carrying two empty buckets on his way to collect waste.

“Excuse me. You know where is Rush'ae Navern?”

“Sorry ma'am. No i'ea. Now if you'll excuse me, I have 'na hurry or miss 'na Worship.”

The Worship was also something that had been bought up with almost everyone they spoke to. Luce still did not fully understood what it was. They knew it was an event that was about to happen later in the day with the Pyrerai - the leader of Seracue. But throughout her life on Katoki, those words had never been used in the context she had been hearing. It was almost a reverence, as if the Pyrerai was something more than mortal.

The crowd thinned. Walking towards her was Adelaide who Luce recognised even under the hood of their cloaks from her sharp green hair. They met in the middle of the streets.

“Anything?” the elf asked.

Luce shook her head. “Nothing. I think this place is a dead end.”

“What's the next best place for info, you think?”

“Probably the wealthier citizens will know what we need. Rich people are always looking for Guides to take them between countries.”

“But they won't personally know.”

“We'll have to track the people they hire. I'm sure there's got to be a lead there. It'll take even more time, but it's better than rounding here blind.”

Adelle nodded. “Alright. I managed to um... acquire some money. Let's grab the next rollercart.” Luce looked away uncomfortably and Adelle had to awkwardly comfort her. “Look, I know you don't like it, but it's too dangerous for us to teleport around. We should do as everyone else does and stay low for now, okay?”

“I...” she turned to Adelle. The elf looked worried. Then, Luce snapped away and turned in a huff. “I don't need you to worry about me. Let's go.”

Luce hurried through the streets, even ignoring to turn to see if Adelle was following. She could take care of herself. If they were in danger, she did not want to be a burden. But she did feel guilty that perhaps she was too harsh on Adelle. After all, the latter was just trying to help. Maybe Adelle of all people would understand the value of being independent; of not being a burden to others. Perhaps if she explained her position, Luce could apologise for her rudeness.

A main road connected different parts of the city. The main road was wider, and there were not much groups of foot traffic. Most of it were used by carts transporting goods in crates and barrels. Luce turned around and let out a sigh of ease when Adelle pushed through the crowd behind her, annoyed at the people but following nonetheless, seemingly not one bit fazed by her earlier outburst. Luce turned away from her companion, determined to not let the elf see her relief. They joined a small group of people waiting by the roadside.

A long cart rolled up to them at a brisk pace. At it's helm was a ball of stone with lines of brown magic circuits shining around its body, rolling along the road as it pulled the cart behind it with handles attached to its centre like wheel. A driver sat at the front of the cart, directing the roller as one would a horse. The roller came to a stop in front of them. Four stubby rock legs grew out the side of the roller as it planted itself onto the ground to stop. Its stationary movements were strangely life-like.

As they waited in line to get on the cart, Luce noticed the roller finding a small dirt ball on the ground. In an almost child-like manner, the creature put one of its stump leg gently on the ball and kneaded it against the dirt. Luce looked to Adelle who was enthralled by the act.

When it got to their turn to board, Adelle paid the man their fare - with her “acquired” money - and together with the rest of the group, they climbed onto the cart as others got off. Once every nook and cranny had been squeezed and filled with a passenger, the wooden cart creaked as the roller balled up again and began moving.

While the speed was no faster than a jog, they were certainly moving faster and for a longer time than they would have if they had walked. Every now and again, the cart stopped at major landmarks. Living quarters. Ampyre Central. A large field converted into a makeshift hospital. Luce stared wide-eyed at each passing locations, shocked and awed at the jarring differences that exists across the country's continuous landscape.

They travelled for two hours in silence, shifting between seats as more commuters got on and off. Some were speaking of the upcoming Worship, but Luce could not understand much of what they were saying. Everything she heard on the topic felt foreign. The only other time she had felt like that was when she met a man who came from another universe, speaking of subjects that did not exist in their world.

At last on a long stretch, Adelle finally asked, “What's the difference between golems and horses?”

Luce turned to the elf who was staring at the roller pulling the cart and answered, “That's not a golem. It's a gnome.”

“What's a gnome?”

“It's a smaller golem. It doesn't have the physical size to graft enough enhancement circuits for the more complicated movements and thought processes of golems. They basically do a single job their whole lives.”

“Huh.” Luce was not sure if Adelle actually understood what she said. “So what's the difference between a gnome and a horse, then?”

Luce thought for a moment on how to phrase her explanation. “If a horse injures its legs, what do you do?”

Adelle replied matter of factly, “I treat its wounds and let it heal.”

“Right. But if the roller gets injured, it has to keep doing its job. It doesn't get a place to rest or sustenance to recuperate. It's left like a cart on the road, many abandoned, slowly withered away by weather.”

Adelle continued staring at the roller. “It looks more like a machine to me.”

“Looks doesn't matter,” Luce replied, more than conscious about her experience with mechs. “You saw how it played with that ball of dirt earlier.”

“Yeah.” Adelle replied, absentmindedly.

Luce looked away and back to the passing landscape, muttering under her breath. “It gets bored.”

After three hours, their butts had gone sore. However, they had finally reached the wealthier districts near the far north of the city. As with any country's segregation of wealth, the differences were immediately apparent. Instead of mud and stone houses, the buildings were mostly constructed with bright red bricks. The roofs were made of metal, some even polished to a sheen. Even if they were sparse and not on par with the richness of the steampunk Everwind, the High Streets were a clear cut from the rest of the country. Nearer to the keeps and fortress then, they could see that the structures stood out even from its neighbours. The glow that reflected from the faraway Twins ricochets off the smooth walls, blinding all with its lighted glory. There was a large balcony that stretched the middle of the fortress wall. A banner hung from it, large enough to cover half the entire centre of the wall while baring the symbol of the nation, an upward arrow sided by two stars.

Adelle whistled. “That's... something.”

When the rollercart stopped at its next destination, the two of them jumped off onto the streets which were noticeably cleaned and paved with shaped stones. The stench of sewage drains also failed to carry over the distance of money.

Immediately, a man walked up to them and the two tensed at his confident swagger.

He wore a fitting grey robe over white tunic and grey pants. His dark hair had noticeable strands of silver, and his irises were eerily the greying white of spirits, although the glinting black pupil in the middle showed he was far from blind. They stood facing each other, neither group making a move, though Luce and Adelle was out of suspicions. Finally, the crowd thinned and parted for them to speak without being overheard.

“Took you two long enough. Luckily word travels fast, huh?” the man casually noted. “Come on, let's get out of here before they start the Worship.”

“Who are you?” Luce began. “We're not going anywhere with some random guy that we just met.”

“My name's Eca,” he quickly answered, “Look, Josh asked me to find you. And we really don't have the time to be out here, unless you want to spend the next few hours kneeling on the ground.”

Adelle hissed, “Is that a threat?”

“No. I'm not an enemy or anything.”

The two women exchanged glances.

Luce asked, “Prove your trust.”

The man sighed. “I'm a Clover. And as you know, there should not be any of their members on this continent, let alone the knowledge that we exists. Now let's go, we really don't have the time.”

A loud horn blared across the sky, loud enough that they were sure even the farmlands could hear. It rocked their eardrums for a moment and Adelle covered her more sensitive elven ears. But the noise soon died down. When it did, Luce had to check to make sure she was not deafened, as the world fell inexplicably silent. The Twin stars disappeared behind the clouds above Fortress Muspell at the dead of noon and the final glint of light caused her to turn to the fortress.

On the balcony above the large banner, a figure walked out dressed in a regal velvet robe, a bright sceptre shining gold visible in their hand. But from their distance, aside from the dressing and hair being fire red, Luce could not discern anything else of the figure. But even then, she knew without a doubt that person was the Pyrerai.

“Hey,” she heard a hiss from behind her.

She turned and found that around them, everyone accept the man in white, her, and Adelle, had gotten on their knees, facing the direction of the fortress. Her eyes settled on a merchant who was making eye contact with her.

The merchant insisted, “Kneel.”

“No,” Luce reflexively replied.

“No,” Adelle followed.

“No,” Eca also refused.

“What is this?” Luce asked Eca while turning back to watch the Pyrerai widening arms to embrace at nothing.

The man in white spat, “Religion.”

Then, the Pyrerai stopped moving. Slowly, the figure lowered its hands. Then, in the blink of an eye, the Pyrerai disappeared from the balcony and reappeared before them in a puff of rust.