Altin scoffed. “History, architecture—how dull!”
Leeya looked over her shoulder at her loudmouthed companion. “It’s boring to you because you’re ignorant.” Finn turned his laugh into a hacking cough, doing his best to keep a sincere face. Altin was in a sour mood for the rest of the tour.
At last, they arrived at a small restaurant. It was wedged like a knob on the center of a stick, jutting halfway out from a leaning tower of colorful brick stores. They were given a balcony table with an incredible view toward the center of Kazma. In his wooden seat, Finn put his bracer-donned hand on the brick ledge, feeling a small breeze hit his face. They were up far enough that they were able to escape the sticky heat of the cramped bottom levels.
The sun lowered in the sky and its bottom peeked beneath the Upper-District. The entirety of the Lower-District was bathed in a warm light that wormed between alleys, throwing a vibrant orange glow across skin and stone. The view was more stunning than Finn could have imagined. Kazma lay sprawled before him, its central tower—the Neck—only a kilometer away. White birds flapped lazily far above and to the distance, cawing out a merry tune. It must have been one of the two times in the day where the lower citizens of Kazma were privy to the sun: once during early morning and once in the evening. Able to see in detail the conglomeration of homes and alleys, Finn couldn't help but sigh in contentment. The simple dream of exploring Lenova felt so real now that he could witness such incredible wonders. The large city was a vast contrast to the simplicity of Pittance. It was an even larger contrast to the Crust, where there was little life, and what there was moved in sluggish anguish.
A waitress with scaled skin and almond-shaped eyes approached and Leeya ordered four Bantu flowers. Finn had no idea what the dishes were, but wanting to further his experience in Kazma, was willing to try whatever food was placed in front of him. Knowing Goblin's hunger, he was sure the boy would have been fine regardless of whether Leeya had ordered a goat's head or soft bread. Altin though, complained.
“Flowers? We're going to eat flowers? Let me guess, to drink we'll have some river water? Maybe for desert we can munch on some tree bark?”
“Why-are-you-so-negative?” Goblin asked him. “You-should-be-thanking-Leeya. She's-paying-for-your-meal.”
Altin turned his sour look to the younger boy. “Why am I so negative? More like why are you so weird? Can't you speak properly?”
“Well-before-I-couldn't-speak-at-all-so-it’s-an-improvement.”
Leeya nodded her head. “You must both share the stories of your travels. I am much curious.”
“If-you-share-yours-as-well.” Goblin replied.
Leeya agreed. Before any of them could begin, the waitress returned with four plates. Upon them were massive steaming flowers, their large purple and green pedals splayed open. Examining the dish, Finn looked to the center of his flower. In the middle, where the filaments or seeds should be, was a cupped puddle of dark brown liquid. In puzzlement, he watched as Leeya tore a piece of pedal from her flower and dipped it into the liquid. She put it to her mouth, chewing without any sign indicating whether it was tasty or bad. Truly, trying to read her expressions was an impossible task. Finn was not the only one who watched her. Both Goblin and Altin studied her as well, trying to determine how to eat the dish. Finn copied Leeya and tore a piece of his Bantu flower. He dipped the strange-colored pedal into the sauce and put the whole thing into his mouth, chewing down. His eyes widened as the taste of smoked meat hit his tongue. It was as if he was chewing on a well-seasoned lamb's chop, a dish he’d only sampled from a drunk supervisor’s plate back in the Crust. Finally seeing a reaction to the food, both Goblin and Altin dove into their flowers as well. A server came by with a pitcher of water and everyone but Finn took some. He had little thirst.
Unlike Goblin, who swallowed his meal faster than a vat-worm ate dirt, Leeya was a meticulous eater. She carefully tore small sections of pedal, folded them in half, and dipped into the sauce which gave the meal such a smoky flavor. Trying not to look like a choking pig at his last meal, Finn attempted to copy her. It was a difficult task. His stomach howled for him to crunch the entire dish into a ball and stuff it whole down his gullet, which comically enough, was what Altin was doing himself. No longer was the Star-Child complaining about flowers, instead he was insistent not one single morsel escaped him.
“I was chosen nearly three months ago.” Leeya began, pausing the meal and wiping her lips with a cloth. “Strolling at night in the Upper-District, I was coming home late from my father's employment. I remember the stars shone bright. The bracer landed in front of me, as if the heavens themselves were granting me a gift. I couldn’t be one to turn away from such an honor. I donned it and passed out, seeing strange flashed of faces and sounds.”
Finn startled. Did all those who put on the mysterious bracers receive hallucinations? Leeya continued.
“Once I awoke, I ran home and told my parents. Using our resources and network of informants, we searched for information. Realizing I couldn’t take the bracer off, I knew whatever had transpired would decide the entirety of my future, from now until my death.
“We received word others had been granted bracers as well. Some who used their new abilities went insane, either by the bracer or by the potential for power. Stories of evil Star-Children—the name given to us—spread forth. Cities demolished. People enslaved. Populations slaughtered. Us nobles of Kazma are raised to not have fear. Yet I worried using my power for the first time would turn me like the rest. I didn’t want to cause harm.
“After a month of meditating, I was able to activate my bracer. The power surged through me and festered in my mind—I couldn’t control myself. I don’t remember what I did that night. When it was over, my room was in tatters, the rose gardens near my home was no more, and my parents were injured. I had taken a wooden club and attacked everything around me. It was only my subconscious discipline that spared my parents. But after First-Use, it was far easier to maintain control. Apparently the rampancy only happens once.”
Finn had so many questions. “So to activate the bracer you need to meditate for a month? And you said you can't control your First-Use? But what about the man I fought? He was rampant, but on purpose. It seemed as if he had full control of himself!”
Leeya held out a hand to indicate Finn should take a pause. “Calm yourself.”
Finn shoved another bite of Bantu flower into his mouth. Leeya continued. “For your first question: no, meditation isn’t the direct way to activate your bracer. Each activation is dependent upon the wielder. I must maintain a calm mind to activate mine. Granted for me and my upbringing, that’s an easy task. For Altin, he must feel a surge of confidence to activate his.”
“You spew secrets as if they were nothing more than trivialities.” Altin mumbled, cheeks bulging with Bantu.
“If it were a secret,” Leeya sighed, “you shouldn’t have come to me with your tail between your legs, begging for advice and revealing all about yourself.”
Altin growled, swallowing. “I didn’t come to you with my tail between my legs begging. I was merely excited to meet another like me. It's unfortunate—if I had known how much of a square you were; I would have kept going without revealing myself.”
“Yet you stay at my side.” Leeya replied. Her words shut Altin up and the young man blushed. Finn had a feeling Altin thought Leeya beautiful as well. Leeya faced Finn once more.
“To answer your second question: it does seem First-Use is uncontrollable for all Star-Children. Depending on the strength of your mind, you might be able to maintain a sense of awareness—but more than that seemed impossible. During First-Use, your power is at its strongest. It will never reach that level again.”
Finn thought over Leeya's words. If he figured out the trigger that activated his own bracer, he would have to do so in a time and place where he could be alone. He didn’t want to run rampant in public.
“How’s it like to wield an ability?”
Finn couldn’t help to ask. “Do you grow tired using your powers?” Leeya furrowed her brow as she thought of a way to describe it. “It’s like running a long distance, but in your mind. A… mental use of stamina that translates into physical exhaustion.”
“What-about-your-First-Use?” Goblin asked Altin. The Star-Child rubbed his jaw and stared out over the balcony toward the setting sun. “I don't want to talk about it.” He stayed silent and the group turned away from him, feeling a sense of awkwardness. Something had happened to him, perhaps something bad. Wanting to break the spell, Finn cleared his throat. “Altin, where do you hail from?”
The handsome Star-Child seemed to come back to life and scoffed. “Lyria, Lenova's floating capital.” Surprise ran through Finn. Altin had lived in a similar situation as Leeya, floating above the average populace. “The floating islands of House Royal?” he exclaimed. “Isn’t it magnificent there?”
Altin pushed his empty plate away and laughed. “It’s a prude kingdom full of laws and fake bravado. Those rich and blind Lyrians can't see past their daily drama and coin purses. Don't even get me started on the soldiers and guards.”
Remembering what the beggar back in Wyrmroost had told him, Finn spoke up. “Doesn't the king send out Paladins to claim a Star-Child's bracer? Was it not dangerous to be there?”
Altin grew dark. His complexion reminded Finn of the look miners took on when speaking of the Crust overseers. “Yeah. Even now he hunts us for a power that doesn’t belong to him. He’s a coward and a lazy lout not fit for kingship. I escaped Lyria with but a small batch of soldiers chasing me. Four other Star-Children in the neighboring island of Ephyria had been chosen around the time. They were all in rampant First-Use, destroying entire neighborhood blocks. A section of the island broke free and fell—thousands went with it. The king sent his Paladins to put a stop to them. Last I heard, his Paladins all lay dead. I think they managed to kill one of the Star-Children, but his body fell the four kilometers to the vast SeaLake below, lost for eternity. The other three escaped.
“I flew and fell my way to the ground. After two months of wandering about, I made it to Kazma where I met Leeya.”
Finn was left speechless. There was so much happening around him. So much involving the Star-Children. He'd been thrust into a story far bigger than himself.
“To answer your last question,” Leeya spoke, “if what you say is true and you faced a Star-Child who controlled his chaotic powers yet still killed, then you fought an evil one. One of the many that allowed their new abilities to control them instead of the other way around.”
“How-do-you-know-all-this?” Goblin asked.
“Like I said, through my parents we have a long network of informants. Now I must ask both of you your stories.”
Finn studied the wooden grain on the table, trying to determine where to begin. Taking another bite of his depleting meal, he started back when he'd first met Goblin and worked his way forward through Pittance and entering Kazma. Once he was finished, their table lay empty of food and in a state of silence. Altin, who at first pretended to not pay attention to the story, now faced Finn with a look of suspicion and what could have been slight respect. It was as if he was having an internal struggle of whether to believe it to be true and whether or not to be rude about it.
“Although you may not have use of your bracer, you are one of us.” Leeya stated. “If you wish to, you may join us in our journey.”
“Journey?” Finn asked.
“We travel to Jakitta, a city near the shadow of Lyria. Rumor spreads all Star-Children who mean no harm gather there as a coalition.”
“Truly?” Finn asked in wonder. “Why so near the king when he desperately wants a bracer?”
“Some say they plan on overthrowing the king. Others say they plan on bargaining with him. Some say they only gather there for convenience, not caring one way or another if the king comes with all his armies or not. It's not like many would be foolish enough to fight a mass gathering of Star-Children.”
“Could-the-rumors-of-a-coalition--be-lies-spread-by-the-king-as-a-trap?” Goblin asked.
Leeya shook her head. “No. My father's informants are smarter than that.”
Finn thought of the prophecy. It could all be relevant or not at all. In the end it was only him and him alone that could make his choices. He decided to follow his gut.
“I’ll go,” he told Leeya, pointing to Goblin. “but only if my friend can come as well.”
“What? What’s he gonna do? Cook for us?” Altin jeered.
“Sure.” Goblin shrugged. “I-like-cooking.”
Leeya ignored them. “Very well Finn. But when we arrive at Jakitta, the coalition may not approve of him.”
“If that’s the case, Goblin and I will leave.” Finn replied with determination. He knew joining with the good Star-Children might reveal more about his destiny, maybe even help him gain power over his bracer. But he would not—could not—leave Goblin. If they denied his friend, then they denied him as well.
They stood from the table and Leeya left six bronze coins as payment. She led them back outside into the orange-hued city. They moved from catwalk to bridge, back to catwalk, and through various tunnels. Finn’s body clenched every time he walked across open catwalks far above the ground. Having only known the depths of caves, open height was a new experience for him, and one he didn't much like. He imagined having Altin's power. How long would it take Finn to become comfortable with flight? Probably never.
They turned down a wide bridge, weaving through people and carts. On the other end was an opening into the Neck. Three other roads connected to the spot—the central streets of Kazma. Leeya went on to tell them like the four roads leading to the Neck, there were also four gates leading into the city from the four directions of the compass. Finn and Goblin had entered from the Western gate, the smallest and least busy of all entrances. Finn recalled how packed it’d been when he'd first gone in Kazma and scoffed in amazement.
They entered the cool shade of the Neck and up close, Finn could recognize the purple material as obsidian. Above the entrance, a large number “5” had been painted, indicating the floor. Walking across colored tile and moving around oxen-pulled carts, the group passed elaborate stairwells and steel platforms where people gathered into groups. Finn watched as one of the platforms launched up, carrying three carts and a dozen aristocrats to the next floor. Nearby, pipes hissed steam, indicating pressure. Finn assumed it was steam—used in an ingenious fashion—that brought life to the elevators.
Inside the Neck, Finn was able to confirm his estimations of how wide it was. One could fit an entire city block within the massive tower. Finn examined large intricate murals painted onto the walls using white and yellow tints. They weren’t art as much as business logos and slogans: McKinley’s Domestic Tools. Bontiff & Sons.
At the center of the room were three metal pipes running from floor to ceiling at a slant. Air-holes the size of children—round at the top and flat at the bottom— were cut at waist-level into the pipes. They vibrated, giving off a low thrum, and making Finn’s bones vibrate when he got too close. They were the DozDum Organ pipes Leeya had talked about, keeping the Upper-District floating for uncounted years.
Leeya took them to an elevator platform crowded with rich civilians. Seeing three Star-Children coming toward them, people respectfully—or fearfully—made room for them. Leeya told Finn and Goblin they would be going to the top.
When the elevator came to life and the steam pipes planted against the wall behind them hissed, Finn clenched his muscles. He expected to be jolted, but the elevator moved smoothly. They passed floor after floor, painted numbers scrolling by in red blurs. After leaving floor number “20”, the platform entered a long shaft with no more openings. Crystal lights built into the walls whizzed past and Leeya explained they'd moved above the highest levels of the Lower-District. The only floor left was far above them—the actual Upper-District itself.
Anticipati
on made Finn bounce in place as the minutes rolled on. He was about to step foot onto a floating city. Slowing and coming to a stop, the platform left them on a wide hexagonal pavilion with a stained-glass dome ceiling. There were no walls, but instead they were greeted with cobblestone paths winding between grass fields, bushes, and fruit trees. The green landscape was colored by the see-through ceiling above and the warm sunset. Birds flew about and the rich strolled the well-maintained paths. Villas and houses topped verdant hills, showcasing large areas of free space. The air was colder at their higher elevation but not enough to be uncomfortable. Although Finn doubted there were ever any foot-traffic problems, it was not all open land—he could see various clusters of tall business buildings made of pink marble. The Upper-District lived a far better life than the Lower-District. It was grandiose, but Finn held a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd grown up in poverty. His limestone hut with cave-diving gear was all he’d owned. The Lower-District, knowing what was above them, lived in the literal shadow of wealth. They knew the injustice of the world as Finn did.
Leeya led them down a path and they followed, marveling at the sights. Finn looked back once more at the Neck’s pavilion, watching as another elevator rose to the top, depositing a new group of upper-classmen. Nearby, the Dozdum Organ Pipes rose from the middle of the hexagon, connecting to egg-shaped stones housed within golden mesh cages. He imagined a massive egg beneath the Lower-District where the pipes connected. Where had these strange artifacts come from? Had the Nature-kin created them? Or perhaps the Forsaken?
Leeya took them to a beautiful neighborhood where multiple homes faced each other in a circle. Leeya's home resembled a horseshoe in shape, with the door in the middle. What was odd, was one half of the house was painted blue and purple, while the other half was painted silver.
SunRider: Book 1 (The SunRider Saga) Page 20