"Anyone on the other end?" a voice bursts out from nowhere, causing everyone to stop.
Jocelyn gives a mock salute. "Jocelyn here, Ma'am!" as she recognizes the voice as that of
Adejare Fashola.
"Uhmph, when things were getting good," Viera reports, letting out a laugh at the end of it.
"Vesper's group, here we are with Miss Rosalind now. Her carriage will be departing soon.
Mord and Bridge are carrying her luggage. The luggage is less than anticipated, and clock
this—did you know that Vesper and Rosalind are related?"
"Not related!" Rosalind warns.
"Oh, I did. I'm the Head of Communications, of course I did," Adejare boasts.
"Or you're also a god of wisdom, but who cares? Not like that matters," Mord teases Adejare.
"Yeah, she most definitely did that "Testing" just to mess with us. This is why I don't like tour
guiding someone. I'll have to end up dealing with our Head of Communication's antics,"
Bridge adds. Her hair consoles her as the sudden message from Adejare seems to have
startled her, making her nearly cry.
"Hmmph, I'm your senior, I'll have you know that," Adejare threatens. "Okay, let's not lose
focus. Please, Vesper, proceed with the tour as planned. I will be communicating with you
personally, and Augusta will occasionally send messages to Jocelyn."
"Wait… how did Adejare even get that message through? It didn't feel like a direct
mind-send. She was already watching us, wasn't she?" the Male Narrator asks quietly.
"Exactly. That wasn't a normal transmission. She's got eyes on us right now. I can feel it. The
way she timed that interruption… she's been observing the whole time," the Female Narrator
adds, equally confused. "If this is an Ikos of hers, then she is quite the frightening figure."
The tension now completely gone, the group starts moving toward the main gate of Glen
Hearthstone Athenaeum.
Before they even reach the road lined with statues, Viera floats closer to Vesper, flames
flickering with curiosity. "Hey, Ves… are you two actually related? Like, for real? You and
Rosalind have the same last name, same household . Spill."
Vesper sighs, keeping her voice low. "We truly aren't related by blood, at least to the best of
my knowledge. Rosalind and I used to be close when we were little. We played together,
shared secrets, the whole thing. We even gave each other nicknames. Then… we had a
falling out before I came to Hearthstone. I don't even know what our relationship is now.
Sorry, I didn't know it would come up like this."
Viera pats Vesper's shoulder gently. "No worries. Just checking. Family drama in
Hearthstone? Classic."
"Oh, this is juicy. They used to be close? That makes the rivalry hit different," the Female
Narrator whispers.
"And now they're stuck touring together. The World loves its irony," the Male Narrator says.
The road to Hearthstone Gate is lined with statues—hundreds of them, some made of gold,
some marble, some pearls. The statues shift slightly every year as new inheritors graduate
or old alumni leave. Rosalind's eyes widen at two marble figures near the front: one with
snow-white hair and a gentle crown (her mother, the previous Snow White), the other with
stark white-and-jet-black strands (Vesper's mother, the previous Evil Queen). Beside them
stands a glittering green figure in a crown and emerald gown—the current Queen of Oz.
"Oz?" Rosalind mutters. "I thought she was Wonderland."
Jocelyn grins. "Common mistake. People mixes the tales sometimes. Keeps everyone on
their toes." A hooded, caped figure at the end of the row catches Rosalind's eye—cloak billowing even
though there is no wind, face completely shadowed. She lingers a second too long.
Vesper notices. "Curious about the Shadowed One? Most people are. She is one of the over
100 mysteries in Hearthstone."
"Oh, thank you," Rosalind says awkwardly. She hadn't expected Vesper to take her job
seriously. "Uhm… Vesper, could you possibly humor me for a bit?"
"What, are you comfortable talking with me now, Rosalind?" Vesper asks, the mocking tone
softer than before.
"Please stop with the titles. Rosalind is fine," Rosalind says, gripping onto Vesper's skirt
lightly. "I hate to admit it, but you're the person I'm most familiar with here. I haven't the
slightest clue how to handle any of your companions, so… please help me?"
Vesper softens a fraction. "Okay. What do you want to know? I'll try to explain the best I
can."
"Firstly, that jumpy girl—how does she move so fast without making a sound? Who was that
voice a minute ago? How did they do that? Also, what's up with that floating girl and the boy
with the blank expression? Plus… what monster is that Bridge girl?"
"Woah, slow down," Vesper says with a small laugh. "Bridge isn't really a monster—though
in hindsight, maybe. Jocelyn's just a teleporter. She can disappear from one spot and appear
in another. It's mostly thanks to her Ikos. She got a bunch of them because she wished to be
completely free of everything, like falling down the sky eternally. According to her, freedom is
the highest form of entertainment. Hey, Jocelyn, can you get me an apple?"
An apple appears in Vesper's hand from nowhere.
"See? Quite handy. How about a bite? It won't poison you," Vesper smirks.
"Fuck you," Rosalind scoffs as she takes the apple. "I've never seen an Ikos like that. Is it the
same kind Adejare used to communicate with us?"
"Yeah, and it's Adejare. You can just call her Fashola—that's easier. Ikos are versatile. I've
seen crazy ones and lackluster ones. Jocelyn's is one of the craziest you'll ever find.
Adejare's voice thing is common too; she was probably already watching us. That Ikos lets
her interact like she's right here."
"I'll answer the rest later. We're arriving at the gate. You'll need to sign in as proof you
entered the institution today."
"They're actually talking like normal people now. And look at the distance from the drop-off
point to the main gate—why not drop Rosalind off inside the school or at the main gate
through normal, faster routes? This feels deliberate," the Female Narrator says quietly.
The group continues forward, the tension between the two queens easing into something
almost… civil.
"This tour is going to be interesting," the Male Narrator says to himself.
They reach the main gate. It is massive. The bars seem to have been made with a special
alloy, shining an attractive brown colour with "Welcome" welded onto it at the top.
As they walk through, they are met by a bunch of stations like toll gates, manned by many
guards. One of them salutes.
"Tour guides, please direct whoever you are escorting to the gate over there for signing in,"
the guard says, pointing toward a group with a centaur guard on his right.
"Wow, I've never seen this many guards working at a gate before. Why are they all wearing
different uniforms? Is it because of rank, Vesper?" Rosalind asks.
"No, it's because there are four different sets of guards," Vesper replies. "The ones in red are
from the kingdom Glen Hearthstone cuts into. The ones in blue, like that centaur, are the school's own. The ones in green are CZP. And the ones wearing purple are student
volunteers from the disciplinary committee and some other clubs."
"Miss Rosalind, how do you like the tour so far? If you need to go somewhere, Jocelyn could
take you anywhere, and Mord can tell you about the mechanics of anything," Viera offers,
her flames flickering with excitement.
Four sets of guards wait. Only one introduces himself properly.
"Evening to you all—and you must be a new student. I'm Min 'Hoof' Jun-seok, the centaur
security veteran," he says, his golden eyes scanning everyone. He takes Rosalind's
documents as she pulls them from her bag. "Oh, Lady Snow's daughter. How unexpected.
And your tour guide is Vesper of all people." He chuckles through his white mane as he
types on the computer beside him. "You know, mess-ups like this happened a lot when your
mothers were in school. They'd end up in the same club, projects, teams, and classes." His
expression saddens for a moment as he helps Rosalind sign in with a bored stamp of his
hoof.
"Oh really?" Viera asks, her flames flickering brighter with curiosity. "Vesper, did you know?"
Vesper's shoulders tense. "Yeah," she says, keeping her voice steady, but her eyes flick
away for a second.
"Of course she does. I was one of her many guardians when the Valory household dumped
her to save face," Min Hoof's voice softens. "She never told you?"
"No, she did," Viera says quickly. "She just never told us that you knew so much about her
mother, that's all."
"Of course I told everyone about you and the others. I'm not heartless. I just don't like
bringing up my mother," Vesper shrugs, stepping forward to hand Min Hoof the tour guide
permit. "This is the tour guide permit. We'll be on our way now. Thank you for having us." A
line has already started forming behind them.
"Lots of royals today. Try not to start another Blood fountain, Lady Vesper," Min Hoof calls
after them with a wave.
Crowds stream through—new students with their own small tour groups, badges glinting.
Vesper collects a glowing map from a floating kiosk. "Portentry first. Let's move."
Bridge yawns, her hair already cocooning around Rosalind's luggage. "Mord and I will drop
these at storage. Meet you at the basin."
"If the group is splitting, I guess we will have to split too, don't we?" the Male Narrator asks.
"I'm following Vesper. You should follow Bridge's group of two," the Female Narrator replies
quickly.
The Male Narrator follows Bridge and Mord.
The Female Narrator stays with Vesper, Jocelyn, Viera , and Rosalind.
Mord and Bridge Path – The Storage Bar
Bridge and Mord are really quick on their feet. One moment the Male Narrator looked away
and here they are already heading toward a bar of some sort, The Glass Garden. And has
the luggage they were carrying vanished? Where did it go? Not dropped, not
dragged—gone. No wonder they were able to cover the distance. This should be interesting.
The two approach the doors of the bar. The heavy oak doors swing open on their own as
Bridge and Mord step inside. From the outside, The Glass Garden looks like any plain brick
storage building. Inside, it smells of spilled mead, polished wood, and secrets that refuse to
stay quiet.
Bridge's living green-gray hair uncoils like a sleepy serpent. One thick strand opens wide
and gently lowers Rosalind's trunks, suitcases, and garment bags onto the counter. The hair
settles back around her shoulders with a soft hiss. Mord flicks his dark-blue cape once. The fabric ripples like water. Rosalind's smaller bags
and the locked jewelry case levitate out smoothly, hovering for a moment before settling
beside Bridge's pile.
"Ah, I'm still quite jealous of your pocket dimension. It doesn't weigh on you and it could be
used as a getaway. Mine, on the other hand, is too small to hold a person and can't sustain
life," Bridge sulks as the last of Rosalind's packages floats out of Mord's cape.
"We are both still quite young, Bridge. I'm sure if you took your time to increase the Cadence
of your pocket dimension Ikos, it would be just as good as mine or even better," Mord
advises as he uses his wand to shoo one of the stray hairs away. "And I pray you don't. We
already find it hard to get you off your bed; imagine getting you out of a pocket dimension."
"Oi, that would be the real show. And Bridge, don't beat yourself up. Not everyone's pocket
dimension can form an alternate energy source specially made for its user, you know," a
bartender comments, staring at the luggage they just brought in.
Now, behind the long counter stand four bartenders in black and white suits, ready to attend
to them. Two go for the luggage, and the other two attend to them.
"Wow, such an interesting Ikos the both of them have. Pocket dimensions aren't really rare,
but one with an alternate power source… maybe this Bridge girl really is as much of a
nightmare as her codex says," the Male Narrator says, voice only, slightly puzzled. He
begins admiring the bartenders. "All four of them are quite beautiful. Two look like they could
be girls, one definitely dresses like one, but… wait. That one with the lavender nails and soft
features—male, I think. The others… it's hard to tell at first glance. They move with the kind
of grace that makes you second-guess everything. Let me try to read their name tags," the
Male Narrator finishes his rant.
The quiet one with dark brown skin and the river-stone pendant—Caleb—simply nods and
opens a ledger.
The one with silver-white hair and flowing sleeves—Theodore—tilts his head, already
reaching for the luggage.
The one with the massive free-flowing hair and patchwork coat—Theophile—leans forward,
smiling easily.
The small one with the wooden brooch—Jae-wook—slides two drinks across the counter
without being asked as he leaves the luggage to Theodore.
Bridge rests her elbows on the wood, hair still faintly hissing. "Luggage. Standard storage.
We will notify you to deliver it once we get an address. No surcharge."
Theophile raises an eyebrow. "So, Bridge, did you hear that yesterday some princess got
thirty guides all to herself? They said it was a welcome party of some sort. Thirty. For one
girl. I thought such a large welcome party was only meant for large groups, not a single
princess. Funny how the rich and connected always get the best things. You should know,
right? You do live in your own private suite in a public hall."
Bridge's hair twitches. "That wasn't favoritism! It was a special assignment. I don't know the
details, and my room was not given. You know well the best rooms are saved for university
students and above. Why do you like prodding at me for no reason, Theophile?" Bridge yells
as she makes loud hand gestures to make her point. "Just because you had a shit
experience with your household—"
Theophile chuckles softly, interrupting Bridge. "Sure. And the Valory name on the luggage
you just hauled in? Sure isn't the Tour Guide Club deploying multiple of their most popular
year 1 tour guides like you and Mord for another princess?"
Caleb slides the ledger closer. "That's enough. As a provider of service in this establishment,
we shouldn't agitate our customers. Theophile, we only work part-time here. Let's not ruin that, please. If you have any squabbles with the customer, deal with it after your shift," he
says, signaling him to head elsewhere. "So, Bridge. How much are you willing to pay for the
full service? Delivery included?"
Bridge names a figure. The negotiation stays calm, almost friendly, but the undercurrent is
clear—the bar knows exactly how the school works.
Mord has already drifted to the far corner. An older man sits there—large frame, weathered
face, dark hair streaked with grey at the temples, nursing one drink for what looks like hours.
Mord slides onto the stool beside him without a word. The man raises his glass in silent
greeting. They sit in comfortable silence.
The transaction finishes. Caleb grabs one of the bags and asks, "Who is this Valory on the
bag? I only know Vesper. Is this her luggage?"
"No, it's Rosalind Seraphina Valory's. She is a new student, the inheritor of Snow White. She
is also from the same Valory Household as Vesper."
"Oh, are they cousins?" Caleb asks.
"No, they aren't, but any wise person won't rule it out, though. Vesper's family just joined the
household recently," Bridge replies, her hair grabbing a cup.
"Oh, interesting. Vesper's cousin. I hope you bring her to our humble bar someday, you
know," Caleb says, handing her the receipts.
Bridge approaches Mord, who stands, cape rippling once as he tucks the receipt inside.
"We're done here."
"Goodbye, sir," Mord waves to the figure he was talking to.
"Favoritism, in an institution for all kinds. Well, I was expecting that, but not this early on. Is
this whole Tour Guide Club really corrupt? This school really does run on secrets," the Male
Narrator says, excited for what is to come next.
Vesper, Viera, and Rosalind Path
"Ah, the Portentry was really nice," the Female Narrator sighs. "The first Ground of Glen
Hearthstone. For our reader, Vesper and the rest have taken Rosalind on just a short tour of
the Portentry. It was mostly filled with shops, hotels, parks, and a few monuments. But
according to Viera, the real tour starts at the next ground, the Grand Concourse—the
school's town, she called it. They are approaching a stone edge now."
The group steps onto the wide stone. A sudden gust of wind flares heavily as they get an
overlook of a new part of Glen Hearthstone Athenaeum. To the right are a bunch of hills and
mountains, some nearing the sky, and to the left are grasslands filled with water.
"Amazing, right?!" Vesper yells through the wind. "This is the Third Ground of Glen
Hearthstone Athenaeum, The Grand Concourse! Over there to the left is the Basin, and to
the right is The Galleria, but we call it the Gales. The building that cuts across them all is the
Alumni hall."
"We are going to be stopping at that blue temple over there with lots of ships, then move to
that huge zoo, and stop at that arena before moving on to the next ground, Miss Rosalind,"
Viera says, detailing their next movement.
So they head towards the temple, which stretches up to 30 feet. The temple, which now
looks like a city once they get up close, is a city built on pillars that rise out of a river. The city
is divided like a pyramid, every level a different shade of blue and gold that gets brighter the
higher it gets. Every level contains its own cities—docks, ships, crashing waves—except
there is no ocean. Just this city, and water coming out of it from all sides and levels.
Once they climb onto the first level, they are now at a dock. Ships of all sizes are lined up,
the floors still maintaining the blue colour. There are portal gates that seem to allow ships to
come and go. The guards present here are as many as at the main gate. Vesper spreads her arms forth and turns towards Rosalind. "This is Zedo. An ancient city
said to be older than Glen Hearthstone Athenaeum. It was built by a tribe of people from
along the African seas as per the instructions of an unknown god. Beautiful, isn't it? This is
the main seaport level. I don't think we can take you to other levels right now."
"I heard that Hearthstone had some Ancient Cities in it, but I didn't expect them to be this
magnificent. How did such a city end up here from the ocean?" Rosalind asks.
"It fell! From the sky!" Jocelyn answers. "A student summoned it using a treasure that came
from it, though the city was lost for quite a while before said student dropped it on our heads.
Tales say their god sunk the city to crush a kraken. A real tea-time story if you ask me."
"The student also summoned the city to crush a bunch of giants. Squish! Most of it hurt.
Makes freezing to death sound really nice," Viera adds, her flames flickering in excitement.
Rosalind steps away from Viera, afraid that the flickering flames may hurt her. "Hey, Vesper,
why does her flame act like that? Is this how she is all the time?"
"No, she actually has a much more normal form, though she takes this one because it
makes her feel the warmest," Vesper says, pushing Rosalind closer to Viera. "Don't worry, it
won't hurt you. And you should try to get closer to some of the people in my group. They
may not be the kind of people you normally associate with, but trust me, you won't regret
knowing them."
"But why? There are just so many things I don't know about them. Befriending them before I
get any information on them doesn't seem wise," Rosalind rebuts.
"What about this? The closer you get to them on this tour, the more questions I will answer
for you. How about that, Rosalind?" Vesper suggests, making Rosalind grumble a little in
agreement.
Rosalind then focuses her eyes on the ancient city once more, the city shining by reflecting
the sunlight. Rosalind stares, eyes wide. "It's… beautiful."
As they walk the stone docks, they pass a sleek ship moored at the edge. Beside it stands a
sun-weathered-skinned girl with dark almond hair tied in a sailor's queue with salt-white
streaks. She wears a dark-blue captain's coat with living wave embroidery sporting the tour
guide badge, and she seems to be escorting a girl with sky-blue hair and matching eyes, a
bit shorter than Rosalind, wearing practical trousers with a sword strapped at her waist and a
shirt that reveals just a hint of her chest.
A foggy, grey silhouette with red eyes walks silently on the girl's other side.
"Ah, Estela, how are you doing? Miss Rosalind, this is Mariana Estela Vasco Wavebreaker.
Estela, Rosalind Valory, the Snow White," Viera greets, introducing the two.
Estela waves them over with a grin. "Vesper and associates, this is perfect timing. This is my
cousin, Vasco." A pause ensues as Estela introduces the foggy figure as someone with the
same name as her. "Wait, no, I'm just pulling your leg. This is Perdy. Vasco da Perdida Yépp.
She prefers Perdy these days."
The foggy figure gives a small nod, red eyes glowing faintly.
Before anyone can reply, a wobbling figure steps onto the deck from the ship's cabin, a
massive beer bottle slung over her shoulder like an anchor. She is already swaying, dark
hair streaked with premature grey, dark-blue Grand Captain's coat stained with old marks.
"Perdy!" Evalach calls, voice thick but aware. "Get me a beer, love. The usual."
Estela steps between them quickly. "Can't. We're escorting this young lady right now. No
time for drinks, Ei mana."
"Oh, I will get one for myself then," the figure says, turning towards Vesper and the others.
"Oh, if it isn't Vesper Miss Bloody-the-fountain. You got me in real trouble 'cause of that stunt yesterday. Had to get a talking to this morning. What you gonna do to apologize, eh,
maninha?"
"Ah," Viera sighs, "this is, um, Evalach 'Fisher King' Anfortas, a senior of ours in university."
"Hmm, I'll just get a drink from the Witches' brewing room once I'm done with this tour. How
about you help us explain how the port here in Zedo works?" Vesper gently replies, subtly
pointing at Rosalind.
"Oh, you are on duty too. Sorry for my unsightly display. Can't help it. Hey lady, you can call
me Evalach. This here is my ship," she points to the blue ship beside them, "though I don't
use it much," Evalach explains, dropping her bottle. "This is the seaport of the bottom-most
level of Zedo. This is used to dock and undock passengers. The other levels have their own
ports, but they all have different purposes. For example, the one above, it's for agricultural
products. The one above it is for liquids."
"And then the fourth level is for weapons, equipment, gadgets, and solid minerals."
"Oh, why is the fourth floor used for so much?" Rosalind asks.
"That's because the fourth and fifth levels are fully just seaports, unlike down here where we
have a town over there and some ancient monuments over there. Though the fifth floor has
temples for worshipping the sea god, they aren't really big temples," Evalach replies.
Rosalind stares at Evalach, her eyes wide in complete shock. The woman is swaying on her
feet, clutching a bottle the size of an anchor, reeking of alcohol, and slurring her
introductions—yet she just delivered a perfectly structured, highly detailed architectural
breakdown of an ancient multi-tiered city without missing a single beat. How is her mind that
sharp when her body is barely standing?
"It's astonishing, isn't it?" The Female Narrator chimes in to the readers. "She is completely
intoxicated, yet her awareness is flawless. I suspect it might be an Ikos at work. People in
Hiraeth sometimes develop specific Ikos to help them resist the mental degradation of
alcoholism once it becomes a heavy habit. Her body may be drunk, but her mind is
anchored."
"Oh, thank you. I think we've spent quite some time here, Vesper, haven't we?" Rosalind
says as she turns to see Perdy simply taking the blue-haired girl's arm, giving the group a
quiet wave goodbye, and leading her away down the dock without a word.
The foggy silhouette she has made it quite a funny scene, like a Princess running away from
her Castle.
Rosalind's gaze lingers on the blue-haired girl a second too long—the sword, the open shirt,
the confident stride.
Viera floats closer, flames flickering with amusement. "Someone's staring awfully hard…"
Jocelyn cartwheels once, grinning. "Yeah, real focused on that sword. Or… the way it sits on
her waist."
Vesper smirks but keeps her voice light. "Careful, Your Grace. You're going to burn a hole
through her back with those eyes."
Rosalind flushes crimson, snapping her fan open. "I was simply observing the… historical
significance of the blade!"
The group laughs softly as they leave the ancient city through the glowing gates and head
toward the zoo.
Back in Augusta's Office
Augusta sits at her obsidian desk, fingers steepled. Across from her stands Raina Hua
Xiamira, the Painter, rainbow fluff hair catching the light, giant brush slung over her shoulder.
"Chances of an attack on Rosalind?" Augusta asks, voice low. Raina's brush drips living ink as she sketches a quick map in the air. "High. The group we're
watching has been moving. We're not sure if it will happen today, but the signs are there."
Augusta's eyes narrow. "Then we end it immediately. Even if we have to find their base and
burn it to the ground. The other group stays on standby. No risks."
Raina nods, the painted map shimmering. "Understood. I'll keep watching."