Chapter I – The Elevator

“‘Lo and behold,’ spoke the jester and revealed a thousand glories to his king. ‘These all are naught in front of the triumphs you will have in the name of the Almighty.’ As the king sat, bedazzled by that which only he could see, the trickster stole the shine from his daughters’ eyes and the smiles from their mouths, leaving no more than ache and yearning in their hearts.”

-Ending of the play “The King of Nosht,” penned by Malcom Drefey after the collapse of the Onlon dynasty.

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The room was brightly lit now that the door had shut itself behind the young woman and her guide. The light seemed to emanate from the floor and the ceiling, though they were easy on the eyes unlike a bright flame or the sun. Most of the space along the pale grey walls was occupied by shelves climbing their whole height, the only exceptions being small statuettes in the middle of the walls and the doorway itself. In the centre the floor raised slightly in an octagonal shape, forming an empty dais save for a carving of yet another eight-angled symmetric shape. Off to the sides were groups of comfortable looking chairs, eight in total, carefully arranged to balance one another. After taking in all these details in, Exa noticed that behind the low platform there was a slightly taller one that seemed to be covered by a score of buttons.

The reason this pedestal caught her attention did not occur to Exa immediately: although the contents of the room were otherwise harmoniously arranged in patterns of eight, this block was rectangular, its breadth was more than its length and that in turn greater than its height. As she approached it across the room and over the dais, her curiosity overriding the attention she had been giving to Takhris amidst her observation. He noticed this and fell quiet with a smile in the middle of a sentence explaining the nature and properties of this room. Crouching to study it with Takhris by her side, she ran her hand over the prismatic surface, feeling it to be a material she had never encountered before. Exa realised that despite being well-educated and having travelled quite a bit in her family’s duchy and to some of the major cities outside of it, she nevertheless did not know many things, especially in a place such as this where stories did not escape. The old wisdom of the wilderness no doubt applied here as well: ignorance brought nothing but grief.

“It’s made of a substance your people have no name for,” Takhris spoke from behind her shoulder. “You could say it’s a mix between glass and metal, being partially transparent yet durable.” He crouched next to her and pointed at a cyan oval slightly to the left of the middle of the field. “Press that.” Exa glanced at him and, hesitating only the tiniest fraction, obeyed, her first two fingers easily sinking the button a good inch. As nothing appeared to happen, she turned to look at her guide who was now staring at the middle of the room. Turning fully around to see what was attracting his attention, Exa was amazed to see the eight-cornered low-rise raising itself silently toward the ceiling. Naturally their palace had many hydraulic systems, but none of them were nearly as quiet and somehow she knew that this was not being powered with normal steam turbines or even elemental-enhanced ones.

What had been the dais revealed to be a two feet thick disc, supported by eight thin pillars at its edges that seemed to form a cage around the huge bed that they contained. The sheets and pillows piled upon it were coloured in such patterns of green, red and gold that Exa could almost believe that it was a pile of autumn leaves elaborately arranged to look like a bed rather than actually being one.

“It’s good to have a place to rest, don’t you think? After all, like I said, this room will be your base of operations, so it might as well be tolerable.” Takhris quipped with a grin as he stood up and offered a hand to Exa, pulling her up when she grasped it. As she held his hand, both of them standing still and looking at each other, it properly occurred to her that while there were two of them who would be using this room – she doubted he would be leaving any time soon – there was only one bed. Even though her hand connected with his face with a loud slap and left four crimson lines where her nails drew blood, Takhris barely flinched, but from the flush on his unmarked cheek, Exa could tell that he had been thinking about the same thing. However, if anything, his grin widened and he laughed as he took a dodging step back to avoid her other hand. Raising his hands defensively, he covered his last chuckles by speaking.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t even think of intruding on a lady’s night’s rest. At least without her permission.” He returned his arms to his sides when he was fully sure that Exa would not draw one of her weapons. “Besides, I don’t know you well enough to fall for you. Lust after you, certainly, because you have a-” he broke into a hearty laughter as he leapt around the room on his cloven hooves, nimbly evading the girl’s sharp blade as they raced around the bed.

Once she had calmed herself enough to regain her voice, Exa stopped and sheathed her falcata sword, breathing deeply to maintain some semblance of her peace of mind. Glaring at Takhris, she hissed, “You are my guide, so I will let this slide this once. But offend my honour once more and I’ll have my blade swim in your blood.” She knew it was stupid to promise a proper oath of vengeance over such a small matter, but her blood was thick with the aggression so typical for her people and which she tried her best to avoid. Now that she had sworn with such strong words, she would have to carry it out if he ever did something similar. “So, please, don’t.”

Takhris jumped on the bed and crossed it to her, studying her with a surprisingly serious expression. Of course, he was still smiling widely, but it was smaller than his usual grin and his eyes were twinkling more with curiosity than jest. Exa suddenly realised that he had not been suggesting anything inappropriate, but rather been doing what she seldom did: placing her needs in front of his own. She had foolishly assumed that he would sleep in the bed and was inviting her to join him. The way he had originally greeted her, with deference – had that been mocking or not? – also did nothing to help. Only those equal or superior in position had any right to flirt in such a manner.

“So,” he said, somehow sliding down to the floor. “You come from an honourable society and I insulted you with my informal manner, correct?” She nodded. “Then, I apologise for that, however-”

Exa interrupted him by finishing his sentence, “I’m not currently at home but here and thus I should behave accordingly and not like I would were we in Poeilnhe.”

Takhris’ grin exploded into its former glory and he clapped his hands together as he exclaimed, “Marvelous! This might be easier than I thought, seeing how clever you are.” Suddenly, he tilted head as if listening to something. “Alright, we’ve almost reached the first floor, no time for chit-chat. The sooner we’re in, the sooner we get to the next level. I don’t want to have to push you through the last half of the course in a wheelchair.” Exa let him usher her to the door as she realised that her mood had reset itself to its normal excited curiosity. “Do you know what’s really exciting?” Takhris asked, his surprisingly firm hands resting on her shoulders to supposedly keep her from running away, as if she would turn down a chance like this.

“All of this,” Exa replied. “At least for me. I don’t know what would excite you, seeing how you’re a part of this place.”

“Ah, I see I haven’t explained myself too clearly. You see, there are a thousand floors in this place and they vary from person to person. If I remember correctly, there are more possible floors than there are trees in the world or something of that sort. In any case, they’re abundant. Personally, I’ve only been to a few thousand or so, as this guide thing is not what I usually do.”

“So what you’re saying is…”

“I’m excited because I have no idea what’s on the other side of that door.”

Exa could feel her confidence plummet.

“'Lo and behold,' spoke the jester and revealed a thousand glories to his king. 'These all are naught in front of the triumphs you will have in the name of the Almighty.' As the king sat, bedazzled by that which only he could see, the trickster stole the shine from his daughters' eyes and the smiles from their mouths, leaving no more than ache and yearning in their hearts.”

-Ending of the play “The King of Nosht,” penned by Malcom Drefey after the collapse of the Onlon dynasty.

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