Chapter One Hundred Seventeen: Illusions of Comfort

  The world felt suddenly colder then, and it gnawed at Jace’s skin as he stepped forward, boots crunching against ice-crusted snow. It wasn’t the kind of cold that merely stung the skin, fleeting and sharp. No, this cold was alive, burrowing deep and taking root in the marrow. Each breath of the frigid air clawed at his throat, as if the very world sought to tear something vital from him.

  A few strides farther, the chill began to abate—not because of the cloud covered sun, but by something deliberate, unnatural. Heat shimmered faintly ahead, radiating from wrought-iron posts adorned with ruby-red crystals. Their light spilled across the cobblestones, polished to a sheen that reflected the strange glow like blood smeared on glass. Where the snow met this warmth, it melted into thin rivulets, the water tracing jagged lines through the street before vanishing into unseen drains. The mingling of frost and heat left the air heavy with steam, curling and shifting like a living thing. Further in, closer to the crystals’ soft, pulsing glow, winter yielded reluctantly to autumn. Leaves still hung gently on branches, preserved by the crystal’s power. Trees that should have been bare remained stubbornly vibrant, their branches full of amber, rust, and gold, trapped in a moment that refused to pass.

  Massive gates loomed ahead, separating the Commoners’ Circle from the Merchant’s Circle. As they stepped through, a faint ripple of energy washed over them, the force field shimmering briefly before letting them pass. The sensation was disorienting, like slipping through a soap bubble, and they emerged into a different world.

  The protective dome surrounding the Sapphire Tower and the Stronghold stretched high above, its translucent sheen catching faint glimmers of starlight. The tower itself rose impossibly tall, piercing the sky like a blade of glass, its surface reflecting the faintest hints of blue and silver. To the west and north, shadows pooled on the horizon, the encroaching darkness broken only by faint pinpricks of light.

  Far in the distance, music drifted through the air—a haunting, lilting melody mingled with bursts of faint laughter and distant noise. Jace strained to pinpoint its source, but it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, an echo of merriment that felt oddly out of reach.

  “The Inn District,” Alice explained, gesturing to the bustling streets ahead, “is the outermost layer of the Merchants’ Circle. This whole Stronghold is built like an onion—rings within rings, each layer folding into the next.”

  Her voice carried a touch of awe as they headed further into the district, the intricate design of the Stronghold unfolding around them. Layers upon layers, each with its own purpose, its own secrets, all spiraling inward toward the heart of the Sapphire Tower. The music in the distance grew louder as they walked.

  “What’s that music?” Molly asked, tilting her head toward the distant melody.

  “A distraction,” Marcus said flatly.

  Alice ignored him and answered, her tone slipping into that of a seasoned tour guide.

  “That’s the Winter Games Fair,” she said. “It started as a way to keep people busy while the competitors prepared for the Tower.”

  She tilted her head, watching the shifting stalls, the movement of color and sound, the flickers of magic threading through the air. “It used to be different,” she said. “More formal. A send-off for the contenders, a way to honor the climb. But that was before Earth got involved.”

  She let out a small breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Now? It’s a carnival. A place where monsters pretend to be people and people pretend to be monsters. Where nobody questions what’s real and what isn’t, because it’s easier that way.” She smirked, a hint of her darker macabre fascination peeking out.

  The lanterns above bobbed in their own rhythm, casting warm, flickering light over crowded pathways in the muted winter daylight. The market stalls were packed tight, selling things that shouldn’t exist—candies that changed flavor with your mood, dice that whispered your odds before you rolled them, maps to places that hadn’t been built yet.

  Alice gave him a sidelong glance. “It’s changed,” she admitted. “But if you know what to look for, the old magic’s still there. Just buried under a little more spectacle.”

  Alice glanced between them, making sure she had their attention. “One more day of the fair, then tomorrow night is the Welcome Ceremony. The morning after that?” She met Jace’s eyes. “We enter the Tower. It’ll feel like a few days out here. Inside? It could be years.”

  Jace squinted. “Wait, hold up.” He shook his head. “The Master of Games mentioned a time dilation, but you’re telling me that’s on top of Terra Mythica’s?”

  Alice sighed like a long-suffering teacher dealing with a class of particularly dense students. “You didn’t know? Do any of you heathens read?”

  The group exchanged glances.

  Dex shrugged. “Heard it rots your brain. Hurts your eyes. My mumma always said so.”

  Alice pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s near a thousand to one. An hour out here, about a month in there. That’s the rough estimate—shifts a little, but records say it holds most of the time.” She gestured at the fair around them.

  Dex grinned. “Why bother with books when we have you?”

  Alice gave him a slow, unimpressed blink before continuing.

  “When contestants return from the climb, they tell their stories,” Alice said. “Then, once everyone is out, there’s the final awards ceremony—aside from whatever prizes you manage to drag out yourself.”

  “Do we know what we’ll run into in there? Someone has to have recorded their adventures, right?”

  She folded her arms. “Recording crystals don’t work in the Tower. It doesn’t allow anything that isn’t soul-bound. So the only way to know what really happened is to hear it firsthand. Illusion mages listen, piece it together, and recreate what they describe. It’s the closest anyone outside the Tower ever gets to seeing what’s inside. From what we can tell, the early floors follow a pattern—rotating through a handful of familiar trials. But the higher you climb, the stranger it gets. And no two seasons have ever been the same.”

  Jace raised an eyebrow. “I know you said you’ve read all about this, but… where, exactly?”

  Alice grinned, reaching into the air with a practiced motion. A shimmer of light appeared as she pulled a massive, ornate tome from her inventory. The cover was an explosion of color and intricate designs, glowing faintly with enchantments. She held it up proudly, brimming with excitement. “An Encyclopedic History of Terra Mythica, Volume 4!” With a dramatic flourish, she plucked the hefty tome from the air and displayed it as if unveiling a lost treasure. “It mentions Roandia, though the details are… well, sparse. More historical footnotes than real substance. Feels like it was pieced together from secondhand notes—but still, very interesting.”

  The city unfolded like an oasis of luxury amidst the city’s rising warmth. Cobblestone streets gave way to polished paths, bordered by palm-like trees that swayed gently despite the lack of wind. Enchanted lanterns glowed with soft, golden light, casting a welcoming shimmer across the fa?ade of a sprawling resort. A sign hung above the entrance, glowing faintly: Travelers Welcome.

  Jace eyed the sign with a faint furrow in his brow. The message was clear, but it left him wondering what policies other places in the city might hold toward outsiders. The thought lingered as they approached the grand double doors, which opened with a quiet, magical hum.

  Inside, the air was cool and fragrant, perfumed with something that reminded Jace of citrus and freshly turned soil. The lobby was a masterpiece of enchanted architecture—crystal fixtures floated gently in the air, casting prismatic light across smooth marble floors. Soft carpets muffled their footsteps as they took in the scene: lounging chairs that seemed to adjust their shapes as guests sat, fountains that shimmered with golden water, and an indoor pond surrounded by glowing lilies.

  Dex’s eyes were gleaming. “Now this is more like it,” he said, grinning as he took in the opulent surroundings. “Alright, Ell and I already spoke about this and we are covering the rooms. The guys can bunk together—me, Jace, and Marcus—and the girls get their own.”

  The girls exchanged glances before nodding, though Alice hesitated. Her gaze flicked toward Jace, lingered briefly, then darted away, her expression unreadable. “Sure,” she murmured, her voice quieter than usual.

  “I don’t share,” Marcus declared, folding his arms with finality.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Dex rolled his eyes but didn’t bother to argue, waving him off with a lazy gesture. “Suit yourself, but I’m not footing the bill.”

  Marcus snorted. “As if I’d take money from you. Please.” With that, he stalked off toward the receptionist, leaving the others in his wake.

  Dex sighed and turned to Jace with a shrug. “Guess it’s just you and me, then. That good with you, Jace?”

  Jace held up a hand. “Yeah, except for one thing. I’ll cover the rooms.” Before anyone could object, he flashed a grin and added, “Consider it my treat—thanks to some unexpected winnings.”

  Dex raised a brow but shrugged. “I won’t complain. Ell?”

  She nodded approval.

  By the time they reached the receptionist, Marcus was already striding off, a bellhop trailing behind him with a key in hand—which was entirely unnecessary, considering he had no luggage. Even if he did, it would all be neatly stored in his inventory.

  The receptionist looked up as Jace approached, her serene smile welcoming but professional. The faintly glowing quill beside her continued jotting notes on its own, pausing briefly as if aware of the shift in attention.

  “Good morning,” she said smoothly. “Welcome to the Lost Oasis of Roandia. How can I assist you?”

  “Um, yeah, we need rooms?” The words came out as a question. He glanced back at his group before meeting her gaze again. “Two should do—one with three beds for the girls, and another with two for us.”

  She nodded, her smile unwavering. “Of course. Standard accommodations, or were you looking for something a bit more… refined?” Her eyes flickered briefly over the group, assessing their travel-worn appearances but saying nothing.

  “Standard is fine,” Jace said quickly, then hesitated, glancing toward Dex and Ell. “Unless the others have something to say about it.”

  Dex leaned casually against the counter, flashing the receptionist his most winsome smile. To which, Jace noted, she appeared entirely impervious. “Well, what are the options?”

  “That, sir, depends on your desired budget,” she replied smoothly, her tone as polished as her appearance. “Might I ask how much you’ve allocated for your accommodations during this stay?”

  Dex nudged Jace lightly with his elbow, leaning in to whisper, “If it’s too much, I’ll chip in.”

  Jace rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he reached into his pocket. Fishing out a coin, he placed it on the counter with a soft clink. The heavy gleam of Etherium caught the light, and for the briefest second, the receptionist’s serene expression wavered, her composure slipping just slightly before her professional mask returned.

  “I see,” she said softly. Her hand hovered over the coin before picking it up delicately, turning it slightly in the light. She cleared her throat, the flicker of emotion gone as quickly as it had come. “Let me provide you with change—it’s far too large a denomination for standard rooms.”

  “Uh, sure,” Jace said, watching her slide the coin into a crystal slot embedded in the counter.

  The device emitted a soft chime as smaller platinum coins cascaded into a compartment. With practiced efficiency, the receptionist gathered the coins, stacking them neatly before slipping them into ten polished wax-sealed tubes. He wondered if the device also checked for forgeries—an idea seemingly confirmed by the faint flicker of satisfaction in her eyes as the coins emerged. Sliding the tubes across the counter, she offered a polite, professional nod.

  “With this,” she began, sliding one of the ten platinum tubes toward her, “you could enjoy two of our standard but more than adequate suites for the duration of the Games.” Her tone was warm, smooth, and persuasive.

  Then, with a deliberate pause, she pulled two more tubes toward her slowly, her voice dropping to a near reverent whisper. “But with these…” Her fingers brushed the polished gold, and her smile softened into something almost conspiratorial.

  “You can have two adjoining top-tier suites. Private baths and access to a luxury spa, the finest enchanted furnishings, full wardrobe restoration for your entire stay, enhanced sleeping quarters imbued with restfulness charms, and even personalized magical services.”

  She paused just long enough to let the promise of indulgence linger. “It’s an experience unlike any other. And, as the saying goes, a little luxury goes a long way.”

  Jace hesitated, glancing back at his group, then down at the gleaming pile of coins.

  Alice placed a hand gently on his arm, her expression cautious. “Jace, we don’t need all that. The standard rooms are fine.”

  Her words gave him pause, but then his mind drifted back to what he knew about her—how she’d grown up not so differently from him, scraping by where luxury was a distant fantasy. It was wasteful, sure. But as impractical as it seemed, he wanted her to have this—a rare, bright spot in what had been a tough journey for all of them.

  “Alright,” Jace said, sliding the three stacks of coins the rest of the way across the counter—vanishing the others into his inventory. “Let’s do it.”

  The receptionist’s smile widened ever so slightly, her hands already reaching for an enchanted key that pulsed with a deep, royal blue glow. The intricate carvings on its surface shimmered faintly as she handed it to him. “An excellent choice. You’ll find the suites unmatched in both comfort and privacy.”

  Jace sighed, tucking the key into his pocket as the receptionist inclined her head. “Enjoy your stay, Master Jace.”

  As he turned to rejoin the group, the enchanted key felt oddly heavy in his pocket.

  As they ascended the grand staircase, the lavish details of the resort revealed themselves further: enchanted windows that displayed shifting landscapes, even though the real view outside was the city streets; corridors that adjusted their lighting based on the time of day; and magical runes embedded into the floors that guided them effortlessly to their rooms.

  Dex and Jace stepped into their shared suite, and even the sight of it made Jace pause. The room was enormous, with a high-domed ceiling painted with moving constellations. A crystal-clear pond rippled gently at the far end, its waters shimmering with faint magical hues. The furniture—plush chairs, a wide bed, and a chaise lounge—seemed to beckon them into comfort. Even the air smelled faintly of salt and flowers.

  Jace chuckled softly, shaking his head. The day’s events still pressed against him, but the warmth of the room dulled the edges. As he glanced toward the softly glowing runes lining the walls, he couldn’t help but wonder what the next day would bring.

  Their room was the epitome of luxury made magical. The pool pond at the far end rippled faintly, its surface reflecting hues of soft blue and gold as if catching sunlight that wasn’t there. Warmth radiated from the walls, adjusting the temperature with a near-sentient precision that made the air feel like a perfect spring afternoon.

  Crystal globes hung from the ceiling, humming softly with gentle light, their glow shifting in rhythm with the room’s ambiance. The windows displayed a serene oasis, palm trees swaying under a painted sunset that shifted as if alive. Jace approached one and touched the pane, half-expecting to feel the breeze of the illusion, though only the faint warmth of the glass met his fingertips. The linens, soft as a whisper, carried a faint scent of lavender, their magic ensuring they were never too cool or warm.

  A faint chime resonated from the pond, drawing their attention. Dex jumped to his feet, his grin lighting up like a kid who’d just found treasure. “Oh, a Telepond! I’ve heard of these!”

  He approached the shimmering water, spotting a small basin of smooth pebbles resting nearby. Grabbing one, he flicked it effortlessly into the pond. The surface rippled outward, shimmering with a soft, iridescent glow. Then, the water began to rise, twisting and reforming until a lithe figure took shape—a translucent, blue-tinted version of Ell.

  “Sup, Ell!” Dex called, clearly enjoying the novelty.

  Ell’s watery likeness placed her hands on her hips, her features exuding the same exasperated charm she carried in real life. “Jace, Dex… this room…”

  Before she could finish, another figure shimmered into existence beside her—a playful, water-formed version of Molly. Her laughter bubbled through the connection as she leaned in. “Is delightful.”

  Then Water-Molly vanished, stepping back as Water-Alice appeared, her form materializing with the same crystalline glow. Her soft smile carried warmth even through the enchanted medium. “Thank you, Jace,” she said, her voice quiet but heartfelt. The sincerity in her tone hit him squarely, her gratitude warming him in a way the room’s opulence never could.

  But the moment of serenity didn’t last. Out of nowhere, a pillow sailed through the air, visible even in shimmering water form, and smacked Alice squarely in the face. Her watery reflection rippled as she froze, blinking in surprise.

  Molly appeared behind them, doubled over laughing. “Oh, that was perfect!” she crowed, clearly pleased with her aim.

  Alice steadied herself, reaching for her own pillow with mock solemnity. “Oh, it’s on now,” she declared with playful menace.

  “Children, both of you,” Ell chided.

  The pond reflected the chaos as the two launched into a full-blown pillow fight, their laughter bubbling through the enchanted connection.

  Ell turned sharply, her hands on her hips, her shimmering form exuding exasperation. “Really? A pillow fight? Could you two be any more stereotypical? What are you, teenagers?”

  Alice smirked, brushing her hair out of her watery eyes. “Technically… still am. Got a few months left, so I’m going to enjoy it while I can.”

  Before Ell could respond, a pillow hit her squarely on the side of the head, sending her reflection rippling. She froze, glaring at Molly and Alice, who were both trying—and failing—not to burst into laughter.

  “Oh, very mature,” she deadpanned, though her tone was light. Another pillow flew at her, but this one she dodged.

  “Alright, that’s it!” Ell shouted, grabbing a pillow of her own. She launched it at Molly, who shrieked and retaliated. Chaos erupted as all three joined the fray, their laughter echoing through the pond’s enchanted surface.

  The water began to shimmer as the connection started to break, their figures dissolving into ripples with every swing and shout. Just as Ell landed a satisfying hit on Molly, the final flicker of light vanished, leaving the pond still and silent once more.

  Dex whistled. “Okay, I definitely need one of these ponds in my dorm.”

  A grin tugged at Jace’s lips. “Yeah,” he said, the warmth of their laughter still lingering in his chest. “Me too.”

  Jace chuckled softly, pulling off his cloak and draping it over a chair. The tension from the day’s events still clung to him, but the comfort of the room dulled its edges. He sank into one of the plush chairs.

  Dex propped himself up on his elbows, his grin turning sly. “So,” he started, dragging the word out. “What’s up with you and Alice? Is that ever going to happen?”

  Jace froze, the question hitting harder than he’d expected. His face flushed as he feigned confusion. “What do you mean?”

  Dex sat up, pointing at him with exaggerated offense. “Oh, don’t pull that. You know what I mean. You two have been dancing around each other since, well, forever. It’s like watching two swords try to figure out how to hug.”

  Jace rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Dex’s gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Dex snorted, leaning back against the bedframe. “Right. Sure. For someone who’s all about truth, you’re not exactly honest with yourself, are you?”

  Jace sighed, letting the conversation drop. Dex didn’t press the issue, but his smirk lingered like an unspoken dare. The room’s warmth seemed heavier now, the enchanted lights casting longer shadows as Jace leaned back and stared at the illusion of the distant oasis, his thoughts drifting farther than the horizon.

  They all agreed to regroup later, once they’d had time to settle in and shake off the journey. With another full day to explore before the grand welcome ceremony the following evening, the festival beckoned.