Chương 26: Chapter 25: The Shadowless City

Elma and Jorm stood at the precipice of a steep, jagged landslide. The sprawling city rested directly beneath them, glowing like a beacon in the valley. Elma looked down at the sheer, rocky decline that served as their only path forward.

"This is ludicrous," Elma muttered, calculating the physical stress the descent would place on her joints. She took a step forward, carefully navigating the loose shale, but quickly realized the sound of Jorm's heavy footsteps had vanished. Elma turned around. Jorm hadn't followed her. The maid was standing near the edge of the treeline, making herself look as physically small as possible. Her hands were clasped tightly behind her back, and her eyes were glued to the dirt.

"We have to go," Elma stated clearly.

"Are you mad at me?" Jorm whispered.

"I am not mad at you."

"Yes, you are." Small, jagged sobs suddenly escaped Jorm's lips. She lowered the massive canvas bag to the ground and aggressively rubbed her eyes with the sleeves of her dress.

"You were so kind to me, and I pushed you! I am sorry. I'm so sorry." Elma let out a quiet, highly exasperated breath. She marched back up the incline, stepping right into Jorm's personal space. She extended her small arms, grabbed the crying maid firmly by the shoulders, and shook her—or, at least, shook her as hard as her body could possibly manage.

"Stop saying sorry," Elma ordered, dropping her hands.

"But why did you lie to me? About those people." Jorm sniffled, wiping her nose.

"I didn't want to scare you. And... I know some of those people. They weren't like that before they got here. They were just hungry." Elma maintained eye contact, her expression entirely serious.

"Never lie to me again." Jorm quickly nodded her head, swallowing her tears. Elma unclenched her fists and turned back toward the steep drop.

"We do not have time. Let's go." They began their descent down the landslide. The terrain was brutal. Elma quickly calculated that her center of gravity was completely insufficient for the slope, forcing her to manifest two water auxiliaries to anchor herself against the rocks for half the journey down. Finally, their feet hit flat, paved stone. They were officially inside the city. The sensory shift was immediate and total.

A man in strange, brightly colored clothes was standing near the district entrance, yelling enthusiastically at a group of overwhelmed foreigners.

"Three suns above, three rivers below!" the barker shouted, his arms wide.

"Welcome to Kandal, the shadowless city!" The title was not an exaggeration. Everything in the city was constructed from blindingly bright, pristine white stone. Tall storefronts and towering buildings stood shoulder to shoulder in tightly packed rows, forming narrow streets that wound between sheer walls of white masonry. But the most striking anomaly was the lighting. Massive, strange glowing roots cascaded down the sides of the buildings, weaving through the streets and stretching across the archways.

They pulsed with a vibrant, intense mixture of blue and orange light that perfectly mimicked the exact spectrum of midday sunlight. The illumination was so strong, that Elma actually had to pull back her hood and stare straight up at the dark sky just to confirm it was still nighttime. Her eyes swept over the city's layout once again. The streets were unusually narrow compared to their height. At first glance, the arrangement seemed impractical. Then she remembered the day.

The dense rows of buildings must've provided shade from the combined glare of the suns. A remarkably efficient solution.

"What is that?" Elma asked, her eyes wide as she studied the glowing vegetation. Jorm cleared her throat, finally regaining a fraction of her usual composure.

"Those are Solarvines. They're a really weird plant that only grows here in Veraxys. The moment the suns dip below the horizon, they start glowing all by themselves." She wiggled her fingers dramatically.

"It's like they can feel night coming." Elma stepped closer to a thick root scaling a white pillar and pressed her small hand flat against the warm bark. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. The light emitted from it was so intense it made Elma heavily squint her eyes.

"I have never seen one inside the Altheris manor." Jorm followed her.

"That's because they are highly invasive. They spread like wildfire and ruin every garden they latch onto. Plus they're really hard to sleep around. So people usually don't want them anywhere near where they live. You'll see when we get there." Elma traced the glowing veins pulsing beneath the bark, her mind captivated by the efficiency of the light source.

"Extraordinary," she whispered.

"Yeah," Jorm smiled, shaking her head.

"That's what tourists always say... for about five seconds." They continued their trek deeper toward the heart of the city. Jorm proudly placed a hand over her chest, puffing herself up.

"Since it is your first time in the city, I shall be your official guide," Jorm announced, her bubbly demeanor returning in full force.

"Kandal is the capital of Veraxys, and arguably the most prosperous city in the entire world." She gestured grandly toward a long, sprawling avenue lined with vibrant stalls and wooden carts. They were entering the Injayat Route, a massive, open-air market where merchants sold every conceivable type of fruit and vegetable. The sharp, spicy scent of roasted peppers and the heavy, sweet aroma of overripe fruit instantly flooded Elma's nose.

"Because of Veraxys' special soil and our exposure to the three suns, our land is the absolute best for agriculture," Jorm explained, skipping past a stall selling melons the size of boulders.

"Everything here grows ten times faster and significantly larger than anywhere else." As they moved past the dense cluster of shops, Elma noticed a distinct shift in the environment. The blinding, shadowless light began to weaken as the glowing Solarvines became much scarcer. The towering storefronts transitioned into rows of residential houses, all constructed from the same pristine white stone. Curiously, every single property featured a lush, active garden and a personal stone well.

"Are wells and gardens mandatory here?" Elma asked.

"Not exactly, but in Veraxys, owning land and not actively growing something on it means you aren't appreciating it," Jorm said.

"And the wells? Every family has one as their water source because there are massive, ancient aquifers flowing right beneath Kandal. But..." Jorm's smile faltered slightly.

"They have been running dry lately. The Great Rain was supposed to arrive months ago, but it is late this year. I hope."

"The Great Rain," Elma said.

"What is it?" Jorm turned to her, something catching in her expression, the particular look of someone who had momentarily forgotten who they were talking to.

"Oh. Right. You've never actually seen rain before, have you?" Elma said nothing.

"Okay, so—water falls from the sky," Jorm began, her hands already moving.

"Not like a drizzle. Like the sky just decides it's had enough and opens up completely. It goes on for weeks. Everything floods, everything smells incredible, the aquifers refill, the crops go insane—" She paused, a faint, private smile crossing her face.

"I saw it once. When I was really small. My mother took me to the roof and we just stood there."

"You would love it," she added, glancing at Elma. Elma looked back toward the residential gardens, at the stone wells sitting dry at the center of each one. That explains the soil. The garden ground had been consistently damp beneath the surface for as long as she could remember, despite the fact that she had never once witnessed precipitation inside the estate's walls. She had filed it as an anomaly and moved on. It was, apparently, not an anomaly.

As they walked, Elma noticed another recurring anomaly: several of the houses had small, intricately carved statues placed directly in front of their doorways. Elma stopped and approached one of the pedestals to inspect it. Up close, the marble carving was incredibly unsettling. It depicted a massive, heavily dysmorphic man with long, skeletal arms. His stomach was entirely hollowed out, creating a deep, concave cavity. Sitting perfectly relaxed inside the man's hollowed torso was a beautifully carved woman.

She had the back of one hand resting lazily against her cheek, while one of her feet was propped up casually on her other knee.

"Is there some cultural reason for this?" Elma asked. Jorm stopped, her eyes widening in genuine shock.

"You... you really don't know her?" Elma simply stared at her, waiting for the answer.

"She is the Goddess of Flow," Jorm whispered, her voice dropping into a tone of deep, intrinsic reverence." Arkanahra. The most feared of the four gods of this world." Goddess.

"Have you ever heard of the nation of Rutenia?" Jorm asked, stepping closer to the statue.

"I have not."

"It was an ancient nation. Something happened with the suns and Rutenia decided the gods were responsible. So they declared their independence. Destroyed every statue, burned every temple. And then they went further." Jorm hesitated.

"They tried to make their own rain. Hundreds of Resonants working together, pulling water from the sky without asking." Elma's eyes narrowed slightly.

"They trespassed on her domain."

"That's one way to put it." Jorm's voice dropped.

"A massive cloud appeared. Covered their entire nation—thick and heavy, like an endless dark sea suspended in the sky. It rained down spears of molten red-hot ice the size of mountains—""Hot ice? Is that possible?"

"I don't know, she's a goddess. Anyway, let me continue. Within the very first hour, not a single person throughout the entire nation was left breathing. But the rain didn't stop. It continued for weeks. What little remained of Rutenia was buried beneath a boiling sea of fog that still exists to this very day, and will continue to exist for another hundred years. Out of millions, the King was the only one left alive."

"What happened to him?" Jorm slowly pointed her finger down at the marble statue.

"She turned him into her walking seat." Elma blinked slowly, her face a mask of absolute, deadpan disbelief.

"And you actively worship this mad woman?" Jorm vaulted forward, violently slamming her hand over Elma's lips.

"Shuuuush!" she squealed in absolute terror, her eyes darting frantically up and down the empty street.

"Are you crazy?!" Elma peeled Jorm's hand off her mouth.

"She might do the exact same thing to you. Do you know of a verified method to kill h—" Jorm shoved both her hands over Elma's face, spinning the toddler around by her shoulders.

"Come on! Let's just keep going!" Jorm panicked, aggressively marching Elma down the street.

"Forget I ever told you anything! Just forget it!"