They walked in the opposite direction from the way they had first come to the office. The polished wooden floor, which hadn't creaked even when they ran over it earlier, now groaned beneath every step. It was as if the place itself was shifting with their purpose. Before they knew it, the hallway faded into a different corridor—one carved of ancient stone.
Time had left its mark on these walls. They bore the weight of centuries, laced with moss and faintly glowing lichen that shimmered like stars scattered across a canvas of grey. Each step the group took echoed with a solemn weight, their footfalls swallowed by the hush that wrapped around them like an old secret.
Munk led the way, quiet and assured. His ginormous flute, strapped to his waist, clicked gently against the stone with each step, like a rhythmic guide to their silent ascent. Maya trailed behind him, hands clasped behind her head, humming softly—a light and curious tune. Atlas walked at his usual unhurried pace, eyes half-lidded yet always watchful, while Raze brought up the rear, his sword at his hip and his mind sharp.
After a few turns, the corridor came to an end. Before them stood a spiral staircase. No words were exchanged. Munk climbed first, and the others followed.
They had taken only a few steps through the tight, dark shaft when suddenly, a sharp gust struck them—so fierce it stole the breath from their lungs. The stale air vanished, replaced by something vast and pure. The staircase beneath their feet changed. No longer wooden, it had become a grand, spiraling path of stone suspended in the open sky.
With every step, the world unfurled.
They were high—so impossibly high that clouds drifted beneath their feet. Around them, the kingdom of Logue Valley stretched wide like a divine mural. To the west, a vast ocean glittered under the sun, its restless surface crashing against sharp cliffs. To the east, a labyrinthine marvel of architecture revealed itself—a circular sprawl of cities stacked upon each other in concentric rings, like a living mandala. From here, they could see the bones of the land, the pulse of its ancient soul.
Maya ran to the edge, arms spread wide.
"We're in the sky! Look at this! Look!"
As they climbed, wyverns soared past them—majestic beings with wings like fire opals catching the light. They glided effortlessly through the great spiral, their cries echoing through the heavens like ancient songs.
The stairs changed again. They flattened into a walkway, then spiraled downward in a twist like the coil of a celestial serpent, only to rise again.
It was dreamlike—as though time itself slowed, allowing them to drink in the grandeur of the world.
And then… they arrived.
The floor before them was suspended in the sky. There were no walls—only a vast stone platform floating amidst clouds. Free-standing white columns circled the space, rising like solemn sentinels.
And there, nestled between the pale pillars, lay a creature so vast and majestic that the world itself seemed to fall silent.
She slumbered, wings curled beneath her. Each scale shimmered like molten garnet kissed by sunlight. Her form was colossal—divine. Her claws could cradle mountains. Her breath stirred winds in quiet reverence. She was bright, ancient, pure crimson—beautiful beyond mortal description.
"Seeing Ashborne never gets old," said Atlas, for once genuinely amazed. "She's a beautiful dragon."
Maya didn't hesitate. She ran forward, shouting, "Ashy!" and flung her arms around the dragon's massive nose.
Ashborne opened her eyes—glowing rubies filled with ancient wisdom—and a gentle smile seemed to stretch across her fearsome face. She lowered her head, nuzzling Maya with a tenderness that defied her size. Her exhale was a warm, living breeze.
Raze stood stunned.
"I must say, the Seiju of Crimson Tower astonish me every time. How in the world did you tame her?"
Munk offered a humble smile, hands folded behind his back.
"We didn't tame her," he said softly. "She allowed us to walk beside her."
Raze stared at the red-scaled mountain in awe. "Is… is she going to come with us?"
Before Munk could reply, a blur streaked through the sky and landed with a gust. A younger dragon—a fraction of Ashborne's size yet still monumental—touched down beside Maya and playfully slapped a claw against her hand.
"Yooo!" Maya grinned, tackling the smaller dragon with gleeful laughter.
The two wrestled with harmless growls and playful roars. Soon, Maya had pinned him down, tickling under his wings until the young dragon yelped and covered his face with his paws in exaggerated defeat.
Ashborne huffed—a smoky chuckle.
"No," Munk finally answered, as the young dragon wiped tears from his eyes. "We'll be taking her son. This is Ignaric."
Ignaric was mighty in his own right—half his mother's size, yet easily twice that of any wyvern. His scales were a darker crimson, tinged with obsidian, and his eyes sparkled with youthful mischief.
Munk walked to the platform's edge where a massive golden carriage stood, awaiting them. Without effort, he hoisted it up with both hands—a feat that made both Raze and Atlas exchange raised eyebrows.
"You fat for a reason," Atlas muttered, eyes roaming over the carriage's intricate carvings.
It was stunning. Polished gold framed with red and brown wood, dragon motifs coiled along the edges. Carvings depicted serpents in flight and gods in war. At the crown, a sigil of a crimson dragon spiraled like eternity captured in symbol.
Munk strapped the carriage to Ignaric's back using thick leather bands inscribed with strange runes, humming an old tune as he worked. When he finished, he dusted off his hands.
"All aboard."
Raze looked on, half-skeptical, half-impressed.
Maya turned, already halfway in.
"What, scared of heights, Uncle?"
"Who you calling uncle, kid?" Raze retorted.
Atlas smirked. "If he pukes, we push him off."
"Try it," Raze muttered, though his awe dulled the threat in his voice.
Inside, the carriage was luxury wrapped in history. Silk cushions, reinforced glass windows, a central table of polished spiritwood. Maya sprawled on the cushions like royalty. Atlas leaned by the window. Raze settled across from them, his sword resting on his lap.
Outside, Ashborne lowered her head. Maya darted out once more to hug her snout.
"Be good, Ashy! I'll bring you jerky!"
Ashborne gave her an affectionate nudge.
Then Ignaric took off.
He charged toward the edge, wings tucked in, wind howling around them. Clouds parted. The edge loomed—closer, closer—
And then they leapt.
Ignaric spread his wings, slow and deliberate.
The sky swallowed them whole.
The carriage soared. The kingdom blurred beneath them—a swirl of color, of lives, of light. The sea glittered ahead like a jewel untouched by time.
Maya pressed her face to the window.
"WE'RE FLYING!"
Atlas let out a rare chuckle.
"You know… I could get used to this."
Munk stood at the helm outside, gripping reins woven of Seiju leather and spiritsteel. Ignaric knew the route, but Munk kept their course steady.
He called back through the open door, "Atlas."
"Yeah, Fatso?"
Munk's voice turned mock-hurt, eyes teary. "The badge. The one Sobec gave you."
Atlas pulled it from his coat—a flat obsidian piece carved with a dragon in flight, encircled by golden rings.
Raze leaned forward and let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"You've got to be kidding. That's the Crimson Tower's sigil. He actually gave an official request… to a Wildflower?"
Munk examined it calmly. "Hmm. Thought so. So what's the request?"
"Investigate anomalies in Route 1."
"When Mr. Sobec told me to join a Wildflower, I was stunned," Raze said, turning with a shrug. "I asked him why he trusted you."
He exhaled slowly.
"And he told me to fight you. To see for myself if you were worth the trust."
He eyed the badge again. "Now I see he gave you an official request. I'm not surprised anymore… though it's still foolish."
Atlas shrugged. "I didn't ask for it. And maybe don't try to stab me mid-air next time."
"You talk like it's a chore," Raze snapped. "Wardens work their entire lives for a chance to be requested by their kingdom. What you hold is the dream of many. Show some respect. If you can't… then don't accept such requests."
Atlas turned back to the window, unreadable. "Sorry if I struck a nerve. I have my reasons."
Silence followed.
Raze stared at him a moment longer before leaning back, arms crossed. Then, glancing at Atlas's pensive face, he thought to himself,
Ew. Even he can be serious.
The wind rocked the carriage gently. Hours passed. Maya dozed off beside Atlas, who had one arm lazily draped over her like a worn-out cloak. He, too, slept.
Munk entered the cabin again after securing the helm.
"You not sleeping?" he asked, plopping down.
"Not tired."
They sat in comfortable silence as the salty wind dried their lips.
"How much longer to shore?" Raze asked.
"Three more hours, give or take," said Munk. "This way takes longer. Not straight like the Veilspan—you have to avoid a lot of places in the sky."
"I thought official bands like us used the Veilspan to reach the Null Continent. Surprised a beast tamer of such high status like you knows another route by heart."
Munk rubbed his bald head and chuckled.
"Sobec prefers off-roads."
"Very him," Raze said with a smile.
An hour passed. Raze stayed awake—until exhaustion took him, too. He slept with his sword cradled close.
Then—
A soft thud. The wind's hum vanished. The salty air was gone.
Raze stirred, blinking into a strange green glow filtering through the windows. The air felt… still.
He stepped out—and gasped.
They had landed in a glade unlike any he'd seen.
Emerald leaves shimmered like glass under a sky filtered through layers of translucent foliage. Light streamed down in golden beams that danced upon the forest floor like stardust in a dream. Petals of impossible hues drifted lazily through the air, trailing tiny sparks. The ground itself was covered in soft moss and glittering dew, as if the land had been kissed by dawn and frozen in its first breath.
Giant flowers bloomed silently, their petals opening to the rhythm of the wind. Some were tall as trees, others small as teacups, each glowing faintly in purples, greens, and golds. A crystalline stream meandered through the clearing, its waters so pure they shimmered like polished mirrors. Small fish, translucent and glowing, swam against the current like stars moving through time.
Strange birds with feathered tails like windchimes sang a haunting lullaby. Insects moved in coordinated bursts of light, creating a living constellation across the trees. The breeze carried the scent of ancient cedar, crushed mint, and something softer—like the memory of a lullaby your mother once sang.
Somewhere nearby, Maya and Atlas could be heard.
Then—Munk's voice.
"You've never been here, have you?"
Raze turned. Munk sat cross-legged on a smooth stone, eyes closed, breathing in slow rhythm.
"No," Raze said. "Where are we?"
Munk opened one eye, its gleam calm and ancient.
"This… is the First Unity. The one found by the original Wardens."
Raze froze.
"The First Unity? You mean U-1—Adam? That can't be. I've been there. I've seen every inch of it. There's no way I missed a place like this."
"That's what you were taught, that U-1—Adam is the first Unity, " Munk said, voice like wind through old trees.
He opened both eyes.
"That's what everyone was taught."
And suddenly, the glade felt older than time, deeper than memory—a place where the truth of the world slept beneath songs long forgotten.