Jutted over the horizon stood two colossal structures. Made in pure white, they made for an imposing sight across the landscape.

  Three bridges connected the two by air. A narrow strip of land surrounded by seas linked them at the bottom.

  Much like Lysonick, tall buildings encircled the towers with windows and entrances on the top floors only. Much like Lysonick, there were a rare sight. Quin started to miss them.

  Everywhere between and up to the towers was teemed with life and activity, all swarmed by lights in the twilight.

  Planted on an isthmus, it was an urban hub of its own that connected the peninsula to the mainland; the west bay with the east. Far different from Sirqu down south, Quin noticed its share of similarities.

  For starters, he could immediately tell that along the isthmus itself was the poorer Yerp inhabited areas with small cramped buildings of various tones.

  Contrasted with the modest district were the ostentatious twin pillars adjoined to it. Both sides of the isthmus appeared more ornate, rich, and very likely Sentar’i populated.

  Perched high on his wagon seat, Arty sighed as he stared past the city. “Odlassi. Part unified, part divided. At least that was the case the last time I was here. I imagine it’ll be the same. Which means the people will be great.”

  “Not as charming as the people from Sirqu, I’m sure,” Yach added while on foot beside the wagon.

  Quin scoffed in his mask next to the Yerp. “Hey, I’m from Sirqu.”

  “Sorry about your luck.”

  “The people from Sirqu are alright compared to the people of Odlassi,” Arty pointed. “If anything, they’re more like you Yach and that’s not even describing their Sentar’i-”

  Arty instinctively realized the Cosondera attention. Up ahead, Ythan turned his sights from the twin structures to the talkative Yerp.

  On the other side of the wagon strolled Onyl, whose sharp glare pierced into Arty’s skull from the ground below. No doubt Conon had an ear pointed at the wagon as he traveled behind.

  Arty pivoted, “...whom I know next to nothing about and thus cannot describe. Anyway, just don’t expect folks to have open hearts and open rooms.”

  “Don’t listen to the riffraff over there brother.” Conon waved off. “I’ve been to Odlassi plenty of times, there’s nothing wrong ‘bout it.”

  Yach shrugged his arms. “A Cosondere who likes a city that’s friendly to them. Imagine that.”

  Conon gave a stink eye and conjured his [ghost chain] when Quin jumped into his line of sight.

  “You’ve been there before?” he asked. “What’s it like?”

  The chain faded as well as the tension. Quin realized that violent reprisals against Yerps were second nature for a Sentar’i.

  From his enemies to his own teammates, they all responded the same when a Yerp showed slight irreverence. The Sentar’i spirit told them all how to respond and without a thought.

  Quin’s confrontation with Onyl earlier showed him how quick those hostilities could fade away. His interference though direct, distracted her enough to take her mind away from Mier’s direct talk.

  If he could jump in and change their thoughts fast enough, Quin could blunt any reprisal before they manifested.

  In this case, it worked on Conon. Dispelled of any ire, he cooled his inner pyre.

  “Oh. Well, you’ll see once we get there,” he replied. “Actually, there’s a place I gotta show you. First things first though.”

  The group made their way past Odlassi’s entrance. Even as dusk approached, crowds and lanterns filled the downhill streets.

  Conversations ran in and out of Quin’s ears while seared barbecue found its way up his nose. It watered up his mouth.

  “Hail to the Cosondera!” one person yelled out. Quin couldn’t tell where or whom those words came from.

  Plenty of people gave friendly waves to Quin and his teammates. Already, it seemed like Conon’s word rang true compared to Arty’s.

  Just as quickly however, those thoughts exited as the group left the stylish part of town.

  Just a walk through an arch and the scenery changed drastically. He couldn’t tell right away with the dwindled light over him, but it became clear within a dozen steps.

  As if they traveled to the past, everything appeared more antique and rudimentary.

  Their destination wasn’t by the shops, inns, or restaurants. Instead, the group traveled the road past the fancier parts of town.

  More garish than the entrance with narrower roads and paths, Quin’s predictions about the poorer area bore true.

  Though the weather dropped with the sun, Quin felt a detached coolness in the air. The crowds no longer spoke openly but in whispered tones, at least those within earshot to him and his group. Delicious cooking permeated his mask no more and in its place, the back end of horses.

  He saw wooden buildings packed so tight, Quin felt certain they connected to one another.

  Paved roads showed up in very few places and mud took over the ground. All these sights appeared at the beginning of the district. Quin could only imagine the view as one traveled deeper.

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  Ythan had no intent to go any further. “You, the windbag on the wagon. You said you’ve been here before right?”

  Arty’s face lit up. “Why, yes. Yes sir I have. I was here about thirteen years ago with a different group. Back then, people had a-”

  “Then arrange yourselves with accommodations this evening. We meet at daybreak on the other side of this isthmus.

  “Conon. Onyl. Keep your heads low and make sure the new guy doesn’t get lost. You all heard where to meet. Be there.”

  Right after that, the blue cloak made his way above the arch and upward toward the higher districts.

  Once she procured her staff, Onyl followed Ythan’s lead. She left with a nod and disappeared up the towers without a word.

  Conon and Quin stayed below; the latter took in the sights of another foreign place.

  This time, an overnight element added to the experience. A swarm of thoughts and emotions hit him hard and fast.

  Arty and Mier dismounted off the wagon, the former stuck his landing while latter slipped on the mud. As quickly as he dropped, Mier brought himself back up.

  His older colleague took a short breath. “Well, let’s head for the stables then find an inn. If we’re lucky, a lot of rooms emptied out after the storm.”

  As the Yerps moved for the large door establishments, it dawned on Quin that they would be left alone overnight as well.

  Out of the group, Arty seemed like the only one with any sort of knowledge about the place. How would they fare, Quin wondered.

  Moreover, what would happen to the team if something were to happen to their Yerp escorts. His teammates looked more relieved than concerned to leave them out in a strange city.

  How could they know for sure that things would go okay? What if something happened between now and dawn? Questions came one after the other in Quin’s head.

  He walked up to Conon whom shook his head at a merchant. Apparently, he found no good deal with the trader.

  “Hey Conon, is it okay to just leave them out like this?” he asked his more experienced colleague.

  Conon turned and raised an eyebrow. “What? Leave who out?”

  “The Yerps. It’s not like they’re in a safe part of town. How are we supposed to protect them if we’re like on the other side of town?”

  “Brother, how would you feel if some child had to follow you ‘round talkin’ ‘bout protectin’ you? Yeah they’re Yerps ‘n’ we’re Sentar’i, does that mean we have to look ‘em over like they’re sheep? Do we have to watch ‘em while they sleep? Watch ‘em while they shit?”

  Quin had no answer for the inquiries. “Well...uuh-”

  “The answer is no. When it’s all said ‘n’ done, they’re grown ass adults, not helpless babies. Besides, they know the deal. If they put ‘emselves ‘n trouble wit’out us around, then they’ll have to deal wit’ it ‘emselves. There shouldn’t be trouble if they mind their business.”

  Quin would have been used to such words if they came from Onyl. To hear that from Conon, it just sent another strong reminder of how deep the Sentar’i spirit went.

  Another vendor showed up in sight with a wheelbarrow of goods across the muck. Their efforts to move yielded little luck.

  Conon whistled for his attention before he turned to Quin. “Hold up real quick, I’ll be right back.”

  As Conon approached another merchant, Quin realized the point made. The chroniclers possessed no abilities like a Sentar’i, but that didn’t mean they had glass bodies.

  Arty and Yach each lived twice as long as Quin, and as Yerps to boot. If they evaded all dangers up to now, then they should be able to handle themselves.

  Then again why would they need the Cosondera at all, Quin asked himself. Why escort the Yerps through the hazardous wilds just to leave them in a precarious part of a city?

  As Quin ruminated on this problem, he saw Yach depart the stables first. He wasn’t even a couple of steps into the crowd when he took a hard bump from some soiled up laborer.

  “Hey didn’t you see me walkin’ here?” the man raised as he stepped up to Yach. “Or did your mole block your view?”

  Yach got up and lightly patted the man’s shoulder. “Sorry about that friend. Didn’t mean to get in your face like that. If you want, I got something to fix that face up.”

  In no time, Yach clutched the local’s shirt and yanked him into a right jab. People nearby who witnessed the outburst saw it as an opportunity to have one of their own.

  At the drop of a hat, the entire scene became one of swung arms and damaged property.

  Pandemonium ensued. Screams. Crashes. Grunts. Smashes. So many sounds that entered Quin’s ear. They couldn’t keep up with what his eyes observed.

  Mier and Arty showed up in time to get caught up in the action, to an extent.

  Fear planted itself on Arty's face as he immediately turned back to the perceived safety of the stables. Mier’s clumsiness came in clutch when in his flight, he slipped and avoided a haphazard fist.

  Yach engaged in the fray the most out of the three. He had the man he assailed against a wall when a random attacker flew into him.

  Quin stepped forward, but only for a step. He wasn’t sure how Yach would respond to the intervention. No Sentar’i involvement could be seen, otherwise he’d have problems with the scene.

  A purely Yerp fracas gave him pause. He never thought about what to do when they fought each other. This wasn’t the first time he saw an altercation between Yerps, but it was as a Sentar’i. He hesitated.

  No time passed when he saw reasons to act. Much like Arty, many people wanted no part in the free-for-all.

  Not all of them had the luxury of a hiding spot. Consequently, several folks found themselves on the raw end of an arm’s length.

  Two small boys had nowhere to go, trapped in a corner. Fortunately, an older man shielded them from the chaos. Unfortunately, his back absorbed a series of pummels. From there, Quin’s reason.

  He leaped into the middle of the action. His hood flapped over his head and with his cloak and mask, he grabbed everyone’s attention.

  The scene fell deathly quiet.

  No longer against each other, all the Yerps backed away from Quin, their angry faces swapped with fear. Such a reaction would not spawn from just him alone.

  He couldn’t look back but Quin knew behind him stood scores of cloaks.

  Roughly a dozen in count, they were all Tyrovivs; each one kept their silence. From the ones in masks to the ones with angry glares, all of their stares pushed the Yerps against the walls.

  At the very front, Quin could only face one direction. In that moment, he truly fitted in with the Cosondera.

  Eventually the Yerps dispersed, their bout of rage dissolved in the air. With an eye swollen shut, Yach looked at Quin as he shook his head. He left without a word.

  “What’s going on here?” asked a lady behind Quin.

  He turned to see a Neraviv among the circle. All he could tell in the dimmed light was that she wore glasses.

  His observations came to an end when an arm hooked around his head. Conon had no time for any of Quin’s questions.

  “C’mon brother. We gotta go,” Conon said as he pulled Quin away. “Can’t let her see-”

  “Co-non!” the blue cloak addressed as Tyrovivs combed the scene. “Didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

  Conon showed a nervous grimace before he whipped around. “Neeeer. Fulira, so good to see you again. Yeah, my team’s back ‘n’ whole again so we’re back on the road.”

  Fulira brought her stern expression to Quin. Even though he had a hood over his head and a mask over his face, it felt like she could see right through them.

  With pursed lips and a slight squint, she asked, “Is he with you? He’s not another Coty is he?”

  “Whoa whoa. Will there ever be another Coty?”

  “One was enough, so I hope not.”

  The skittish Conon turned himself and Quin around. “Well you shouldn’t have to worry ‘bout that. Anyway, we’ll be out of yer hair. I know yer gettin’ started wit’ work ‘n’ all that.”

  “As a matter of fact, I’m off duty for the evening. That doesn’t mean my eyes will be off the city.” They then zeroed in on Conon after her statement.

  “Of course! Of course. It’ll be an easy night for both of us,” Conon declared as he guided Quin away from the area. “Good seein’ you again. Keep to the moon tonight.”

  “Who was that?” Quin asked while pushed away.

  “Oh don’t worry ‘bout that brother. I told you, there’s nice things ‘bout Odlassi. I got one place you have to see. C’mon.”

  Quin didn’t have much choice. Between the unknown city and the Cosondera presence, he was a fish out of water.

  With someone who had familiarity with the area and people who were familiar with him, he couldn’t find a better tour guide at that moment than Conon.