13-24. Ithalon
The plateau rose more than a mile into the sky, its crown decorated by elegant skyscrapers that mimicked the artistry and grace Elijah had seen in various ruined cities during his trek across Gorveth. However, where those structures had been ravaged by age, the buildings of Ithalon glittered with unbroken glass, potent ethera, and well-maintained stone.
And that was just what Elijah saw from afar.
After so much desolation, the sight was breathtaking, and he couldn’t stop himself from pausing to enjoy it. Even as the army trekked closer, he simply stood atop a hill and beheld the wonder of civilization.
After a while, he tore his eyes away from the city and focused on the plateau. In most ways, it looked little different from any other. The sides were jagged, comprised of a mixture of black and grey stone that gave it a mottled appearance. Supporting that impression was the fact that it was dotted with yawning caves. From the base of the plateau stretched miles of farmland that reminded Elijah of the outskirts of Dravkein.
It wasn’t long after Elijah finally decided to move forward that he encountered the first ring. What followed was the expected pattern of concentric ritual circles, each one meant to filter the corruption out of the air. The sheer size of those circles was both surprising and intimidating, and their effect could be felt for dozens of miles surrounding the city.
The surprising part came when Elijah reached the fields.
The workers weren’t much different from those he saw around Dravkein. Deformed. Mutated. It was the effect of prolonged exposure to even trace amounts of corruption, and though those deformities were eye-catching, they weren’t what drew Elijah’s attention.
Instead, he couldn’t stop staring at the guards.
Clad in green leather, each one was armed with a whip, a stout cudgel, and a bad attitude. And they weren’t shy about using those weapons on any worker deemed to be slacking. The crack of those whips – and the cringing obedience of the workers – told Elijah all he needed to know about their culture.
It took most of his self-control not to simply kill the guards.
But he refrained. Not because he approved. Not because he feared them. But rather, because he knew he couldn’t get what he needed if he started things off with a fight.
Seething, Elijah continued along, following a path through the fields that led to an opening at the base of the plateau. Along the way, he saw more of the same, and to keep himself from doing something he knew he would soon regret, he focused on the crops. Like the ones surrounding Dravkein, they felt sterile. Like their life force was artificial – which wasn’t far from the truth.
However, Elijah was shocked to discover that they were also much less vibrant than what he’d seen around the smaller town. Their pulsing vitality was sluggish. Anemic. It didn’t take Elijah long to find out why, either.
The discs embedded in the ground that were responsible for making farming possible were old and degraded. The glyphs decorating them were hardly even legible, and Elijah could barely sense the flagging ethera coursing through them.
He pushed ahead, following the army until he reached the entrance. And to his surprise, there were no barriers. No guards barring entry. Just an arched opening leading inside.
Elijah almost stumbled when he stepped fully into Ithalon. Not only did the ethera density increase, but all but trace amounts of corruption disappeared. The interior atmosphere was only a little worse than it was at the heart of Dravkein.
He was also confronted with an arched ceiling more than five hundred feet high. Looking up, he couldn’t ignore the similarities to vaulted ceilings on Earth. Even from hundreds of feet below, Elijah could see the detailed designs decorating the arches.
The densely detailed beauty of that architectural characteristic stood in stark contrast to everything beneath that ceiling.
The avenue was crowded with people and carts. Green-clad men and women stood on every corner, their eyes searching for a reason to use the whips or cudgels at their hips. No one gave them cause, though Elijah suspected it wouldn’t take much to get them going.
Otherwise, the people were much like those working the fields. Perhaps only a little less deformed, but that might have been a trick of perception. Either way, most of them carried heavy burdens – sacks of produce – and it didn’t take Elijah long to discover their destinations. Warehouses lined the interior wall of the plateau, followed by a circular path that assuredly ran the entire circumference.
Thousands of people worked to sort, package, and store the produce coming from the fields.
On the other side of that avenue stood food stands stocked with the lowest-quality fruit and vegetables. Further on, Elijah found an expected slaughterhouse, though like the runic discs outside, the ritual circles seemed poorly maintained and only barely effective at removing the corruption of the meat.
The people didn’t seem to care, though.
Elijah soon found other necessary parts of any city. Businesses catering to the residents – all selling low-grade goods – were there, as were residences in the form of squat apartment buildings packed full of people.
It didn’t take much for him to surmise that he’d found the lowest-status people in the city. Zek had warned him that Ithalon functioned on a caste system, with the people living at the base being the poorest and least powerful, but Elijah had hoped for something better.
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His hopes were dashed within moments of reaching the city.
As he explored that level, he discovered that it was roughly divided into four districts. The first – where he’d entered – was devoted to farming and food procurement. The people there were earthy, deformed, and overall led simple lives. From what Zek had told him, it was the lowest expression of the Verdant Halls – a faction ruled by the demi-gods Marith and Ko’rien.
The next quarter represented a distinct change, both in terms of architecture and its people. The Gilded Reach was populated by men and women wearing copious amounts of cheap jewelry, low-quality but flamboyant clothes, and heavy makeup meant to hide their obvious deformities. The local architecture followed that theme, with garishly painted walls, elaborate banners, and poorly-made sculptures decorating the buildings.
After that came the Cinder Towers, and that district couldn’t have been more different. The buildings were stark. They were lean and lacked any semblance of grace. The people who lived there wore distinct red robes that covered them from head to toe. Elijah could feel the fire ethera dancing within their cores.
And finally, there was the Veiled Spire, which was characterized by perfectly white buildings and silence. No one spoke within that district. Even their footfalls were muted. According to Zek’s description, it was the domain of assassins, spies, and criminals. People from other districts flitted in and out of the Veiled Spire. They didn’t stay long – only long enough to pass notes to the residents – before retreating.
Elijah followed a group away from that quarter, just to confirm that the Veiled Spire also hosted the city’s hunters. They were dressed almost exactly like Dravkein’s hunters, and they wasted no time before leaving the city, then the fields, behind.
The layout of the city was both obvious and a little overwhelming, though Elijah suspected that he would internalize the differences in time.
In any case, Elijah continued his exploration, finding his way to a series of ethera-powered lifts that led to the next level up. According to Zek, the city was further divided into three distinct levels. The lower levels were predictably dedicated to the least powerful and poorest members of each faction, while the middle floors were for the average folk – mostly skilled laborers and Tradesmen – with the final level standing atop the plateau.
That was where the richest residents of Ithalon dwelled. And it was where he knew he would find the Branch of the World Tree.
Unfortunately, when he reached the lift, he found his way barred by a dense field of ethera. When he looked closer, he saw that the entrants all wore crystal pendants around their necks. They appeared similar to the ones the hunters had worn back in Dravkein, though their purpose was obviously different.
They were access keys.
Without them, it was impossible to use the lifts.
Of course, he could easily kill someone and take their pendant. Most were mortal-tier, with only a few weak ascendents mixed in.
He didn’t, though.
Not yet.
Because in addition to giving him a basic idea of the city’s layout and its factions, Zek had given him a letter and instructions on where to deliver it. At the time, Elijah hadn’t realized just how necessary that letter would be. But now that he’d visited the lower reaches of the Veiled Spire, he recognized the need.
It took him a few hours to find the appropriate building – what appeared to be a tavern. However, unlike every other bar Elijah had ever visited, it was entirely silent. No one spoke. There was no music. Instead, people sat and drank, using small, slate tablets and chalk to communicate with one another.
Even the scratch of chalk was muted.
Still, Elijah encountered quite a problem when he realized that he couldn’t fit through the door. Not in the Shape of the Scourge, at least. So, he settled into an alley and waited.
Hours passed.
Then, more than a day went by.
And he still didn’t see anything to suggest the presence of his target. Finally, he’d had enough, and he found somewhere out of sight and let Shape of the Scourge fall away. After that, he dressed in an all-black hunter’s outfit loaned to him by Zek. Thankfully, it covered his face as well as the rest of his body. Only his eyes remained visible.
Elijah was no spy, though. He definitely wasn’t great at subterfuge. But he didn’t see any other way to make contact. So, in his disguise, he stepped out of the alley and quickly entered the tavern.
The interior was as he’d seen from outside. Low ceilings. A simple, stone bar. A multitude of tables. And a scattering of patrons. A more curious person might have considered just how similar the setting was to taverns back on Earth, but Elijah barely even noticed it.
Elijah was only interested in the person behind the bar, though.
He sat down.
The woman set a chalk tablet before him. It featured a bunch of scribbles Elijah took to be the local language. He could understand the spoken word, but he definitely wouldn’t be reading it anytime soon. So, he produced the folded piece of leather from his Arcane Loop and placed it on top of the tablet.
Then, he just looked at the barkeeper.
Like Zek, her mutation was confined entirely to her skin. It wasn’t rubbery and grooved like Zek’s. Rather, it was worn entirely smooth, save for a couple of protrusions on her cheeks. Like stunted tentacles.
She picked up the leather scrap and unfolded it. Her eyes flicked across Zek’s note, widening only slightly as she read the message. Elijah wasn’t certain what it said, but Zek had assured him that, after reading it, the woman would help him.
Still, as she continued to stare at the message for far longer than necessary, Elijah’s heart began to beat much more rapidly. Surrounded by the silence of the Veiled Spire, it felt like the other patrons should have been able to hear the thundering beat.
But no one paid any attention at all to Elijah.
Or rather, they noticed him. They marked him. They just didn’t think he was worth their attention.
Finally, she set the note down, then jerked her head toward the door. Elijah didn’t need any other invitation to leave, and he soon found himself outside. A few moments later, she followed, though she didn’t stop. Instead, she just kept walking. Elijah had no choice but to follow her down the avenue and to the main street. From there, she led him across the district, not stopping until they reached a garish building in the center of the Gilded Reach.
He followed her inside, only to find himself confronted by a host of painted men and women. It only took him a moment to recognize that he’d entered a brothel. A few of the workers reached out to him, offering their services in no uncertain words. Elijah ignored them, instead pushing through to the back where the woman awaited.
When he ducked into the back room, he saw the slap coming. But it was so surprising that he didn’t react. He also didn’t move a single inch from the blow. He barely even felt it.
The woman, meanwhile, shook her hand in pain, saying, “What in all the hells are you thinking, coming to me at the tavern? Zek should have known better! You should have known better!”
Elijah shrugged. “I’m not exactly from around here,” he admitted. Then, he unraveled the cloth covering his face.
“Off-worlder,” she breathed.
“Something like that. I’m told you can help me get to the Branch.”
She shook her head. “A lot has changed since Zek was last in Ithalon. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”
Elijah sighed. “Well, shit.”