They made good time as they passed through the ruins of the city. Without whatever mental influence the Tree had exerted on them, the various creatures and monsters were no more aggressive than most wild animals. Most of them gave the group a wide berth.

Even the more intelligent ones did little more than watch them pass by from a safe distance.

Still, Gora took them right back the way they came, just to be safe. In the Nightmare it was standard protocol to try and return in your own footsteps as far as possible, except for when you had to find a Campsite to rest in. The potential of being ambushed by an organized, intelligent opponent was far outweighed by the fact that you had already cleared that area of all disorganized, unintelligent threats. The Nightmare contained far, far more of the latter than the former.

True, last time they had run into Droopies near their last Campfire, which definitely qualify as an intelligent opponent, but Gora had explained that they were stalkers. When they saw a group of Delvers, they followed them while gathering as many monsters and others of their own kind from the surrounding area as they could. In theory, if the group that had followed them had truly wandered off while they had been busy inside the Tree, the entire corridor that they had passed through would be the least populated area around.

Rita kept pestering Gora and the others about the new world she found herself in as they walked, asking question after question about everything she could think of. History, politics, geography, important figures, calendars and time measurements, everything. She was like a baby, discovering a world around her that she knew nothing about. They did their best to answer her, but every answer spawned more new questions.

What really puzzled her was not how weird and strange everything was, but how normal it all was! Seconds, minutes, hours, those were all the same as far as she could tell. Okay, the concept of days was sorta fuzzy and subjective, but a week was still seven ‘days’ and a month was about thirty, though exactly how much depended on an individual schedule. If you went to bed early a bunch, your month could get a bit longer, and if you had a couple of long days it could get less. It was all very confusing. Apparently, months were measured using something called ‘sun cycles’ that had something to do with how the sun fluctuated over time… or something. Apparently it required magic or specialized equipment to measure, and none of the others knew much about it.

There were even twelve months in a year! They didn’t quite line up with the months she was used to, and the names were completely unfamiliar to her, but still, it was one more thing that was disturbingly similar to home for no good reason.

As for the world, politically, many of the countries she could discern were kingdoms, ruled by some form of monarch, whether it be a king, an emperor or some kind of archmage, but there were plenty of city-states, unclaimed areas where the land was too wild or too dangerous to really settle or simply unaffiliated villages who recognized no grand ruler and did their own thing.

It appeared the ownership extended very much to the tip of the sword – or possibly the tip of the spell - and no further; people only ruled where they could enforce their rule directly. And had the desire to. Apparently that differed a lot from one ‘country’ to the next and it sounded like the borders were quite fluid at the best of times.

Grailmane itself, as far as the others explained, resembled something like a capitalist oligopoly. Or possibly a warzone. Rita wasn’t quite sure which. There was some nuance to the explanations that she was not quite sure she fully understood. There was a Civic Council who theoretically ran the city, but in practice nobody did?

Technology-wise, Aer seemed to be about Late Middle Ages level, albeit with a few odd quirks. Gunpowder existed, though only Ava had ever heard of it and only as an obscure reference in one of her alchemy courses. Apparently, it was considered nothing more than a mild curiosity due to the prevalence and accessibility of magic.

Transport was mostly by way of walking or beasts of burden for carrying heavier loads. Horses and mules were mentioned, though several other, more exotic animals (what the hell was a Harpigriff?) were also brought up. Drawn carriages were common, and there were even some powered straight by magic for those that could afford to fuel their hungry magical engines with Essence. Flight was possible, though expensive and rare and generally reserved for the really rich, the really powerful or the really in a hurry.

Electricity was a well known and documented phenomenon… insofar as it stretched to the behaviour of lightning bolts and arcs cast by magicians of the appropriate kind. As for the more tame and stable electricity in the sense of a wall-socket that you could plug your toaster into, that kind of thing was little more than theoretical. As Zaxier explained, it was known you COULD run a lower power, more consistent charge of electricity through a conductor, but why WOULD you? Most simple applications of electricity such as lights or heating could be replicated far cheaper, easier, and safer using direct applications of magic.

Eventually, when everyone’s answers had turned into monosyllabic grunts, Rita got the message and stopped bugging them with her questions. Instead, she resumed staring up at the sky. Partly at the incredible sight of unfamiliar continents and oceans, but mostly at the clouds.

Back on Earth, only a small patch of sky was really visible from any given place, the rest hidden behind the horizon. Here, though? The upwards curve of the landscape meant that you could see ALL of the clouds and the only thing that blocked your sight could be other clouds. That meant that most of what she could see was, in fact, clouds! White, fluffy clouds, dark grey stormclouds, hazy rainclouds busy pouring their contents on the land beneath them, and everything in between! It was a kaleidoscope of grey in every shade imaginable.

She could even see the tops of clouds in the distance! It was like looking out of an airplane, except even more… everything! The land itself in the distance was only visible through lucky gaps in this sea of fluffiness but the bits that she could see revealed lush, green continents and vast, sweeping, tan deserts surrounded by deep, shimmering blue oceans. It was so beautiful!

Still, the walk was long and boring and even the novelty of Aer and its clouds wore off eventually under the monotony at having to put one foot in front other the other… then another, then another, then another…

Rita sighed as she kicked a small pebble with one of her eight legs, sending it clattering across the broken asphalt and bouncing off of a brick wall nearby. She was bored. She really wished she had someone to talk to. Even Alice…

Oh shit, she’d forgotten about Alice!

“Alice?” Rita muttered softly. “You there?” Ahead of her, Samual briefly glanced backwards before proceeding to ignore her.

Nothing. Alice was either still asleep or… no, she was asleep. That was it. Nothing bad had happened. Absolutely nothing had gone wrong while she had been distracted with clouds. But she probably should check in on her, make sure she was okay, right? Except… how?

Frowning, Rita tried to think back of the white room that she had left Alice in. Hell, she hoped that that room wasn’t still inside the Tree! At the time she had been sure that it wasn’t, that it was a place inside her own head, but now she wasn’t so sure anymore. The whole experience felt surreal as heck and now she wasn’t even sure that it had actually happened. Had she dreamt it all?

No, Alice was actually quiet. Some of it at least was real. But if it was inside her own head, how would she get back there?

Maybe it was like when she let Alice take control. She just had to relax and let it happen. Would that even work? The white room was not an active participant like Alice was who could seize control if given a chance. Could she even get back there without the Tree?

She kept mulling over the problem while she walked, her eight legs going in a steady rhythm as she followed behind Samual. Her mind drifted off as she walked, thinking of ever more esoteric solutions to getting back there. The steady motion of her legs and the monotonous terrain around her served to slowly lull her into something like a gentle trance.

Her mind drifted to thoughts about her thoughts. How they kept spinning round in circles, not making any progress. Spinning, spinning, spinning, but all the while running up against an invisible wall. Like a torrent of water, splashing across a pane of glass.

She could visualize the wall, even though it was supposed to be invisible, from the way her thoughts crashed into it and bounced off. The negative space clearly revealed its position, her spinning thoughts delineating its position, even if she couldn’t see it herself. She could even push against it, just a little bit…

Then, suddenly, there was a lurch, and she was standing in the white room again.

Featureless whiteness stretched into infinity in all directions, yet the space felt small and cozy. It felt like a place that she belonged. Like home. At the same time it was different. Like it was… stolen? A stolen home? Or a home made from stolen pieces?

Whatever.

Alice was on the ground, exactly where Rita had left her last time. Rita knelt down next to her and inspected her closely.

She appeared to be sleeping, still, her chest moving slightly with each breath. Her injuries still looked just the same as the last time that she was here… a couple of hours go. Right, it hadn’t been that long since she had left her here, there had been no reason to get that worried after all. Of course Alice was still sleeping, she had been put through the ringer!

She quickly checked Alice’s weird injuries, as if she was an animated character that had been attacked by an eraser, but they looked pretty much the same as when she had left her last. No obvious signs of healing. Unsurprisingly, really. Serious injuries could take weeks or even months to heal and these… okay these were like no injuries she had ever seen before, just missing bits, but they would heal in time, right? Of course they would. She just needed a bit of rest.

Rita stood back up quietly, wiping her hands on her hips. There was not a speck of dust on the featureless white floor.

Now how the heck was she going to get out of here?

Barely had the thought crossed her mind when there was another lurch, and suddenly she was lying on her stomach with a pounding headache. She looked up to find Samual standing over her, an expression of genuine concern on his face.

As soon as she stirred, he settled back into his habitual look of irritation.

“What happened?” he asked. “You just fell over.”

Rita rubbed her head gently. It hurt, like she had hit it against something. Most likely the asphalt that she was lying on.

“Uhhh… how long was I out?” she groaned.

“About five seconds,” he replied.

Rita looked over and noticed the others standing still and staring. They were still in their marching order, but had stopped and looked back to see what was going on.

“Seriously? That quick?”

Samual shrugged. “I only looked back when I heard you hit the ground.”

Oof. Looks like entering the white room knocked her out. Doing that mid-walk had not been very smart. At least now she knew how to get back in there to check on Alice.

Next time she would just sit down first.

“Umm, guess I fainted…” she lied sheepishly.

She was going to tell them about Alice. She was! Eventually. When Alice was better and could speak for herself. Until then, it would just confuse the others and make them think she was crazy. It was better not to open that can of worms if she didn’t need to.

“Come on, lets get going,” Samual said and held out his hand to help her up.

As she took the proffered hand and stumbled to her feet, she realized just how hard she had hit her head. She was still seeing stars.

Wait, those stars were headed this way.

“Hey, am I the only one seeing those streaks of light?” she asked, pointing up at the sky ahead of them, where three glowing streaks were moving quickly in their direction.

“Hmm? What… Oh shit!” Gora swore as she spotted them and immediately bustled the whole group into the nearest ruined building, as fast as they could.

Their arrival scared two things that looked like balls with two arms and toothy maws that briefly hissed at them before skedaddling out the other side of the building when Gora growled at them.

“Those are Shine Nosers,” Gora explained once they were all safely inside and peeking out through a broken window. “And the bastards have sent three Inquisitors. Guess they mean business.”

Inquisitors? Inquisitors were never good news. Nobody nice needed to have Inquisitors. “Is Grailmane like… at war with them?” Rita asked.

To her surprise, it was Samual that spoke up to answer her. Up to this point, he had not answered any questions, letting the others handle them.

“Yes and no. No formal state of war exists, because the Holy Mitlan State does not recognize any sovereignty but their own. Everyone else lies on the spectrum of ‘misguided fool’ to ‘embodiment of evil’.”

“Yeah,” Gora added, raising an eyebrow, “something like that. They’ll either give you a two hour sermon or try to purge you on the spot, depending on how much of a stick up their ass they have on any particular day. And how much you have to do with things that they don’t like.”

“What kind of things don’t they like?” Rita asked.

Gora waved her hand vaguely. “Anything that doesn’t match their view of a perfectly utopian world under their crazy god’s control. Magic, especially darker magics, demons, most other gods, the Nightmare Trees and anything to do with them, and non-humanoids in general. Bunch of racist fucks.”

Rita looked around at the group.

Two mages, one a necromancer, one a cat, a follower of some kind of mysterious god or something, a half-demon and her own eight-legged self.

Right.

They were going to be reeeaaal popular if they get spotted.