6.25 – A Disoriented Fox I
Delta stirred to wakefulness. Plush pillows and cool, soft bedsheets caressed her body. She didn't think she'd ever been so comfortable in her life. It was like she was sleeping in a bundle of clouds pulled from the heavens themselves.
It was … unfamiliar.
Her slow, gentle ergence into wakefulness abruptly shifted. Her muscles stiffened, brain jolting into awareness, and she shot up in bed, instantly on edge, purple eyes scanning the space she found herself in.
The sight that t her didn't make sense.
She was in … a palace bedroom. She didn't know how else to describe it. Opulence dripped from every wall and corner. She blinked in disbelief as she took in her surroundings.
The room was massive, easily the size of a small house. Sunlight stread through towering glass windows, lighting up the space with a warm, golden glow. Her bed sat atop a raised dais, the mattress soft and plush, with silken sheets and a plethora of pillows. The fra was made of so kind of polished wood, carved with delicate floral patterns. A sheer canopy hung overhead, the gossar fabric swaying in the breeze.
To her left, a set of double doors stood open, leading to what appeared to be an opulent bathing chamber. Through the doorway, she could see a sunken marble tub big enough for four people. The floors were tiled in a mosaic pattern.
At the foot of her bed, a plush chaise lounge sat before an unlit fireplace, the mantle carved from the sa polished wood as the bed fra. Delta swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet sinking into the thick, plush rug that covered the floor. She ran her hands over the soft fabric of the bedsheets, marveling at their quality.
"What the fuck?"
She'd never in her life seen such a luxurious space. And so of the guildhalls she'd stayed at had been pretty fancy. There was a lot of money in wayfaring. But this was on a whole other level. The kind of place royalty would live.
Slowly, her brain started to catch up. The last thing she rembered, Lucinda had crashed into the ground in front of them like a falling teor.
Heavens. What advancent was that woman? She'd known Rosalie's ntor was strong, but Delta had assud fifth, maybe sixth at most. But even those ranks couldn't sail through the air like they were flying. Could they?
She didn't know much about higher advancents. No one did. Besides from stories, in which the hero's accomplishnts could easily be overtold for flair. The upper echelons of society were a mystery to people like Delta. To anyone not deeply embedded in high-rank wayfaring circles.
Had it been a skill? That let her move like that? An item? Delta supposed it didn't matter.
Then Lucinda had waved her gauntleted fist at her, and the world had gone dark. Delta was vaguely aware of ti having passed since then—like sleep, but not really. What kind of artifact could do that? Delta was a third advancent wayfarer; an item shouldn't be able to just disable her without getting to put up a fight.
Except for broken ones, like that hourglass, she supposed. But to scoop her up completely against her will? Forget what rank Lucinda was—what advancent was that item?
Wait. Third advancent? Delta's skin tingled. No, she wasn't third advancent, not anymore.
Rather, fourth.
For the second ti that morning, Delta went silent, stunned at the realization. Holy crap. One shard to move through progressions? Rosalie had joked about that happening, but Delta had thought it impossible. Even for Zoey.
Seriously. One shard to move up. Blessed by a goddess or not, that was absurd. What kind of skills did Zoey have?
Though Delta itched to look inward, to analyze her tabula anima and see what skills she had earned, she, unfortunately, had to concern herself with her imdiate reality.
The palace room.
And how she'd arrived here.
It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Lucinda, annoyed at how they'd snuck away, had scooped up her irritating wards and brought them to Mantle herself, no further delays allowed. And split them up afterward, apparently. She wondered why the woman hadn't utilized the storage artifact to begin with. Maximum capacity, perhaps, so Sabina, Adrienne, and Aria wouldn't have fit? Costly to activate? It could be any number of things. Perhaps she hadn't had the item in the first place and had made a return trip to Mantle to pick it up.
So this was Lucinda's ho. Or Rosalie's. Or otherwise just so living space they had access to.
And wasn't that crazy? This was a guest room, apparently. Not even the master bedroom. It was a house in itself. She bet the cost of the furniture and adornnts inside surpassed an experienced wayfarer's salary for their entire lifeti. Opulence dripped from every inch of the space.
It was equally gorgeous and disgusting. Delta curled her lip, seeing the obscene, wasteful luxury on display. anwhile, up in Haven, families like her own were failing to put food on the table and keep roofs over their heads.
Well. Not like her own family anymore. The paynts she'd been sending to the surface had taken care of Mom and Dad. But still. The disdain held.
Padding across the plush carpet to one of the towering glass windows, Delta's eyes went wider and wider at the sight that splayed out in front of her.
Delta stared out the window.
Stretched out before her was the city of Mantle in all its glory. It spilled down the side of an impossibly large mountain in a dazzling array of colorful buildings, towers, and winding streets. At the peak sat the palace she was currently in, an opulent manor of white stone and blue-tiled roofs, the crown jewel atop the tropolis.
From her vantage point, Delta could make out row after row of structures descending the mountainside, each level composing its own district. The uppermost half-ring consisted of elegant mansions and tree-lined boulevards, the hos of the wealthy elite. Below that were more densely packed neighborhoods of apartnt buildings, shops, and public squares. She could see market districts with winding alleys, aqueducts carrying water between levels, and lush parks tucked into any available space.
The lower she looked, the more ramshackle the architecture beca, rickety tenents cramd together, laundry lines stretching across narrow lanes. Even in a place as wealthy as Mantle, slums existed. Society as a whole had more resources to go around in the Fractures, but poverty would always find a way—thanks no doubt to the rich assholes in this very palace.
At the base of the mountain, an enormous shimring blue ocean reflected the cityscape above it. Oceans were rare in the Fractures. Shards tended to split and morph and stitch together in strange ways in their unfriendly depths. Nonetheless, there were rchant galleys and fishing boats cutting across its surface towards a bustling port district. The oceans, while near impossible to navigate, held plenty of riches, like the rest of the Fractures—and were so of the fastest ways across the collection of pocket dinsions, to the knowledgeable seafarers who sailed them.
The stretching city of Mantle, viewed perfectly from the top of its mountain, was one of the most breathtaking sights Delta had ever seen, and her standards had been raised considerably since venturing down into the Fractures.
This was the heart of a Highguild. The ancestral ho of the oldest, arguably most powerful collection of wayfarers in existence.
"Fuck ," Delta muttered, her long fox tail swishing with agitation as she ca to the obvious conclusion. What her presence in this palace, at the very peak of Mantle, ant.
The ho of the Highguild's leader.
"Rosalie knows the d'Celestins?"
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