Amaranth announced itself on the evening horizon with a corona of light that put the setting sun to shame. As their caravan crested the final hill, the city sprawled before them—a massive, tiered metropolis with gleaming spires that pierced the darkening sky like silver needles.

  "Holy pickled potatoes," Kindle blurted out, leaning so far forward on their wagon seat she nearly toppled off. "That's... not what I was expecting."

  Cinder tugged on the back of Kindle's shirt, her grasp preventing an embarrassing tumble into the muddy roadway. "No kidding."

  "It looks like a fairy tale village and a big-city university had a baby," Pyra agreed, her eyes wide as saucers. "An incredibly pretentious baby."

  Ember surveyed the approaching cityscape with cautious optimism. From this distance, Amaranth appeared picturesque—almost storybook. But she knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

  The approaching darkness only enhanced Amaranth's brilliance. Unlike the humble oil lamps of Fendale or even Thaddeus's magical illumination, the city before them blazed with thousands of lights in colors that had no business existing outside of an artist's palette.

  Blue-white spires topped the inner citadel, casting ghostly beams into the clouds above. Tall walls of weathered stone ringed the city, punctuated by towering gatehouses, each capped with glowing spheres that illuminated the roadways leading to the city.

  Guard patrols moved along the wall tops, torches flickering in the gathering twilight.

  "Amaranth, jewel of the Eridu Valley," Malik said beside them, sounding less like a world-weary minstrel and more like a proud local. "Trade hub, seat of the Magisterium, and the single largest concentration of magical learning in the known realms."

  "You left out 'gorgeous beyond belief,'" Kindle interjected, her eyes still fixed on the city ahead. "Seriously, does this place have a tourism board? Because I'll write their brochure copy."

  Ash nudged her gently, a hint of reproach in her otherwise placid tone. "Remember, we are not tourists here. Our goal is to find these Mnemosynes and unravel the mysteries of our condition, not indulge in sightseeing frivolities."

  "But can't we do both?" Kindle whined. "I mean, come on—we're finally in a world worth exploring! You can't tell me you aren't itching to know more about this place."

  "I have a healthy academic curiosity, yes, but it must be tempered by prudence."

  Ember hugged Ash around her shoulders. "Finally, someone else with some sense."

  "There's a quote I've always found interesting," Ash began, her voice sliding into recitation mode. "'The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.'" She paused dramatically. "'It is the source of all true art and science.'"

  "I love it when she gets all scholarly," Pyra whispered to Ember, whose shoulders she immediately wrapped herself around, smiling contentedly. "Our little nerd."

  A soft groan escaped Ember's lips. "Not you too."

  "Me, what?" Pyra blinked innocently, squeezing Ember tighter. "Just admiring the intellectual treasure that is Ash. Like, is it weird that I want to take her to a library and propose?"

  "She'd probably say yes," Ember muttered, extricating herself from Pyra's enthusiastic clutches. "But focus, please. We're almost there."

  The caravan had taken on the focused energy of a journey's end. Merchants straightened their wares, guards polished visible badges and insignias, and Marta shouted increasingly specific instructions about proper entry protocols. Their wagon—no longer reeking quite so potently of pickled vegetables—had been upgraded from tail-end afterthought to middle-of-the-pack curiosity.

  "Remember," Ember said quietly as massive gates loomed closer, "we're just travelers seeking knowledge and opportunity. Nothing unusual."

  Kindle snorted. "Just five identical women with shared memories, a questionable past, and a habit of bursting into flame. Practically pedestrian."

  "At least we're all the same number again," Ash noted, her smoky tendrils curling thoughtfully around her fingers. "Existence is less fractured when correctly enumerated."

  The outer gates of Amaranth stretched fifty feet high, carved from pale stone that seemed to absorb the dying sunlight and transform it into an inner luminescence. The massive doors stood open at this hour, though a phalanx of guards in midnight-blue uniforms maintained watchful vigilance over all who entered. Their silver breastplates bore the city's emblem—a stylized flame encircled by seven stars.

  Marta brought her wagon to a halt at the checkpoint. "Merchant caravan from southern territories," she announced with the bored efficiency of someone who'd performed this ritual a thousand times. "Registered route five, six days out from Fendale, standard goods manifest."

  The head official—distinguishable by the seven silver stars on his collar rather than the typical three—barely looked up. "Manifest and passenger count?"

  "Twenty-seven crew, fourteen hired guards, eleven passengers, all documented." Marta passed over a scroll sealed with her wheel-and-dagger emblem.

  The official broke the seal, scanned the contents, and nodded to an assistant who began the tedious process of cargo inspection. Another approached their wagon, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of five identical women.

  "Names and business?" the official asked, stylus poised above parchment.

  "Ember, Cinder, Pyra, Kindle, and Ash," Ember replied, natural diplomacy making her their spokesperson. "We're travelers seeking knowledge about unique magical conditions."

  The official's eyebrow rose fractionally. "Magical practitioners?"

  "Of a sort," Ember hedged. "We have... unusual circumstances."

  "All practitioners must register with the Magisterium within two days of entry," the official recited, a note of suspicion edging into his voice as he studied their identical faces. "Unregistered magic use is punishable by fines, imprisonment, or expulsion."

  "Understood," Ember assured him. "We'll register promptly."

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The official marked something in his ledger, then produced five small silver tokens, each etched with the city's flame-and-stars emblem.

  "Temporary visitor permits. Valid for three days. After that, you must either register as practitioners, apply for extended visitor status, or leave the city."

  Ember accepted the tokens with a gracious nod. "Thank you for your assistance."

  The official hesitated, clearly wrestling with curiosity versus professionalism. Professionalism won, barely. With a curt nod, he moved to the next wagon.

  "That was almost too easy," Cinder murmured as they passed beneath the massive gateway.

  "Don't jinx it," Kindle hissed. "We're just inside the outer wall. Bet the real scrutiny comes later."

  She wasn't wrong. The outer ring of Amaranth was merely a staging area—a broad, circular road where caravans could organize themselves before proceeding into the city proper. Beyond this preliminary zone loomed a second wall, this one crafted from blocks of deep blue stone that shimmered with subtle enchantment.

  The city rose in three distinct tiers, each separated by walls that grew progressively taller and more ornate as they neared the center. Streets followed a complex spiral pattern, winding inward toward the heart of Amaranth—a colossal tower of gleaming white stone whose upper levels seemed to float disconnected from its base, suspended above the city by some unfathomable magic.

  Most striking of all was the omnipresent magic that permeated every surface. Cobblestones glowed faintly underfoot, leaving phosphorescent footprints that faded after several seconds. Lanterns contained no visible flame, yet cast warm light in colors that shifted according to the moods of passersby.

  "Behold the Ivory Tower," Malik announced, gesturing grandly. "Seat of the Magisterium, repository of arcane learning, and heart of Amaranth."

  "That is the tackiest magical skyscraper I've ever seen," Pyra stated. "Which I realize is a sample size of one, but still."

  "They really went all-in on the whole 'magical city' look, huh?" Kindle added, surveying the scene. "Subtlety isn't exactly their strong suit."

  "I think it's charming," Cinder said, standing a bit closer to Ember. "Like a fairy tale."

  Ash ignored them all, her attention focused on the tower itself. "What keeps the upper sections suspended?"

  "Ancient magic, supposedly cast by the founders," Malik replied, clearly relishing his role as a guide. "It's a visual representation of their ideals—the mundane supporting the magical."

  Marta navigated their caravan through the outer ring, finally bringing them to a wide plaza dominated by a circular building with an open-air market at its center.

  "Merchant's Exchange," she explained as she signaled for the wagons to form a defensive circle. "We'll be here for three days. After that, you're on your own." She fixed them with a stern glare. "Don't make me regret bringing you."

  Cinder rolled her eyes. "Your concern is touching."

  "It's not concern," Marta corrected sharply. "It's self-preservation. Amaranth has rules. Break them, and it reflects on those who vouched for you."

  "We understand," Ember assured her. "Thank you for bringing us this far."

  Marta grunted acknowledgment before striding off to oversee the unloading of trade goods. The five watched as the caravan transformed from a traveling convoy to marketplace stalls under her no-nonsense direction.

  Pyra whistled. "They work fast. So, what's the plan? Explore the magical city? Find scholars? Solve our mystery?"

  Ember glanced at their tokens, then at the milling crowds beyond the Merchant's Exchange. "We should find lodgings. Then we can locate these... Mnemosynes. And figure out this registration situation."

  "Great," Pyra chirped, rocking on her toes. "You girls do the boring parts. I'll explore!"

  "No," Ember, Cinder, and Ash said in unison.

  "Oh, come on! We're in a magic city! Look at all those sparkly towers! The mysterious alleys! The potentially dangerous magical thingamabobs!" Pyra clutched her hands to her heart dramatically. "My adventurous spirit can't be contained by mere caution!"

  "I'll keep an eye on her," Kindle offered with a weary smile.

  "I'm pretty sure that's like trying to leash a meteor," Cinder grumbled, but there was little bite in her words. They all knew Pyra would do as she pleased. The best they could hope for was that Kindle might blunt the most chaotic results.

  "Alright," Ember conceded. "Kindle and Pyra can scout the city. Cinder, Ash, and I will find lodgings and information on the Magisterium's requirements." She paused, then fixed them all with a pointed look. "And no causing unnecessary explosions or blazes. We need to lay low."

  Pyra giggled. "No promises." With a jaunty wave, she bounded off into the bustling streets, Kindle trailing in her wake like a long-suffering guardian.

  Cinder watched them vanish into the crowd with the resigned expression of someone who'd just watched the fuse on an explosive get lit. "Taking bets on how many minutes until something catches fire?"

  "That's hardly fair," Ember replied, though her flames flickered in a pattern that suggested she wasn't entirely convinced of her own defense. "Kindle has gotten better at managing Pyra's... enthusiasms."

  "Like trying to manage a forest fire with a teacup," Ash murmured, her smoky tendrils curling into question marks. "The fundamental asymmetry of chaos versus control always favors entropy."

  "Right," Cinder said, clapping her hands together. "Lodgings. Before we're homeless and legally compromised instead of just legally compromised."

  After their third wrong turn, Cinder's patience began to smolder. She gritted her teeth and turned back the way they'd come, narrowly avoiding a collision with a short, hairy creature carrying a box three times its size. It muttered something acrid in a language Cinder didn't recognize as it wobbled past.

  "If we end up camping in an alley tonight, I'm holding both of you personally responsible," she hissed, flames snapping off her hair. "We should've stuck with the main roads."

  "I admit, the signage is lacking," Ash said from behind, where she and Ember walked shoulder to shoulder. Ash's nose was buried in a crude map she'd bartered for at the last intersection, while Ember scanned the winding side streets ahead.

  So far, every path had curved in unexpected directions, depositing them back at the fountain where they'd started. Cinder was half-convinced it was enchanted to ensnare travelers until they eventually became part of the city, like a sedentary mollusk.

  "You said that last time," Cinder spat, kicking at a loose cobblestone.

  "I've found it's never wise to insult the streets that shelter you," Ash cautioned, her gaze fixed on the map. "I do believe we're lost."

  Cinder growled and clenched her fists. "We're not lost. We just... don't know where we are."

  "That's the definition of—" Ash cut herself off as Cinder's glower grew almost hot enough to spark. "But we can be lost and directionally uncertain simultaneously."

  "We need to ask for directions," Ember said, catching the attention of a passing local—a middle-aged woman with scrolls tucked under one arm and ink stains on her fingers. "Excuse me, could you direct us to affordable lodgings for travelers?"

  The woman looked up, her distracted expression shifting to startled confusion as she registered their identical faces. Her eyes flickered from Ember to Cinder to Ash and back again, mouth working silently.

  "We're travelers," Ember added helpfully. "Sisters."

  "Obviously," the woman finally managed, her voice faint. She cleared her throat. "You, ah, want The Jade Lamp. Run by Madam Segawa—she'll see to your needs. Follow this street past the bookstore, take the second left, and it'll be on the right." She pointed vaguely at the curving road ahead.

  "Thank you kindly," Ember said with a warm smile. "You've been immensely helpful."

  "And you'll want to register with the Magisterium," she added, backing away slightly. "Magical practitioners must register within—"

  "Two days of entry," Cinder finished for her. "We're aware of the requirement."

  The woman nodded stiffly, then hurried away, glancing back over her shoulder twice.

  "They're never going to get used to it, are they?" Ember sighed.

  "Would you?" Cinder replied, striding purposefully ahead. "If the worst we get is the heebie-jeebies from locals, I'll count us lucky."

  Ash trotted a few steps to catch up. "Do you ever tire of assuming the worst of people?"

  "Only when they give me a reason not to."