ROBIN LOOKED BACK to the city, noticing for the first time the ethereal green glow illuminating it and the surrounding area, and realized it was the same thing that’d allowed them to see in the darkness thus far. The green light gave the city an eerie vibe, and to his eyes Tarthos seemed almost… dead. Upon closer inspection, there were no small figures scurrying about, nor were there any lights save for the ominous glow… or any other signs of life. Perhaps his first impression hadn’t been far from the truth.

Whatever Medea had expected of Tarthos, it likely wasn’t the hollow shell before them. Tears pooled in her eyes, which she was quick to wipe away. Soon, she spun on her heel and began marching off again, grim determination etched on her face.

“Wait,” Robin called, reaching for her wrist.

Medea whipped around, practically snarling. “Let go of me.” The runes in her eyes flared with a vibrant light.

Robin let go, taking a step back and holding up his hands. “Whoa, easy. I’m not trying to stop you from doing… whatever it is you want to do. I just think maybe you should, I don’t know… take a minute to process? You seem almost as confused as me, which is actually pretty impressive.” He sighed. “I’m guessing this isn’t what you expected to find?”

“How astute, Robin,” she said, her first use of his name sounding a bit derisive for his taste. “Why, you must be a scholar with such honed wit. You are correct; I did not expect to find my home dark and abandoned and buried under the accursed mountain on which it used to rest.”

It was good to see sarcasm wasn’t lost on the people of Tarthos… though it did raise entirely too many questions about language and communication Robin didn’t have the energy to think about at present. It was only natural he’d wake up in a world where the people just happened to speak English. Yep. Only natural.

Robin tried chipping the rust off his unused empathy skills. “I’m sorry,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Not for stopping you, or what I said, just, y’know… in general.”

He’d consider the whole empathy thing a work in progress.

Medea’s face twisted through about forty different emotions before she seemed to deflate, plopping down on the ground and burying her face in her hands. “No,” she said, though it came out muffled through the cloth of her robe. She looked up, though seemed to have trouble meeting his eyes. “That was uncalled for. I am sorry. I just… I don’t know what’s happening. It felt like the span of a single breath, but…”

“But?” Robin pressed.

“I think… I think I was asleep for longer than I thought.” Medea gazed solemnly at the city in the distance. “Tarthos was a great kingdom, perhaps the greatest. For it to be buried and all but forgotten...” She shook her head. “I don’t understand what could have changed.”

Robin had even less of an idea of what could have happened to fell such a supposedly great kingdom. Normally, he’d have assumed it was simply lost to the flow of time, conquered or laid low by famine and disease, but from what he’d seen since waking up, and Medea’s assertion the kingdom itself used to sit on the mountain, it was clear he was missing some rather large pieces of the puzzle. Hell, the city itself looked pristine, not crumbling or dilapidated in the slightest—at least from their admittedly high vantage point—and that just didn’t seem possible if it was as old as she was implying.

“What do you wanna do?” he asked.

Medea climbed to her feet, swiping dust off her robe. “I need to go down there—to see for myself. There should be something that can explain what happened.” Her eyes roved down his chest, settling on his lower half for a brief moment before she realized what she was doing and looked away. “…And perhaps we can find garments in your size.” It was hard to say for certain in the dim light, but Robin thought she might have been blushing.

It took quite some time to find a path down from the cliff, requiring them to double back some ways and take a turn at a fork they’d previously passed, which eventually lead to a rather precarious path etched on the side of the cliff itself. Thankfully, the path lead all the way to the cavern floor, though it took even longer to navigate than to find, both Robin and Medea taking their time with the footing so as not to go tumbling toward an early demise.

There was very little to see on the way, the only features of the cavern discernible in the low light the crags and boulders and other various forms of stone and rock littered around. By the time they were nearing the city, Robin was half convinced he’d imagined the forest, and probably would have managed it if not for Medea’s presence.

They hadn’t spoken much since the cliff, though not because Robin hadn’t wanted to; Medea was panting heavily, clearly exhausted from their trek, and he wasn’t doing much better. If he’d had a pair of shoes, it would’ve been a different story, but as it was, his feet were being mangled by the rocky terrain. Some time ago he’d begun to leave red footprints along behind them, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to mask the pain, each step bringing forth a fresh wave of torment to which he had no choice but to grin and bear.

Medea called for yet another halt somewhere outside of the city, stopping to rest on a small rock nearby. She was sweating and panting, and drooping more than a little bit. If they didn’t find water soon, she’d be at very real risk of dehydrating.

“I… am sorry,” she said, between breaths. “I’m… not usually so… pathetic.”

“It’s fine,” Robin said, doing his best to avoid wincing as he stood—sitting down would just make things harder when he had to get back up and walk again.

Medea seemed to notice something was off, giving a curious tilt of her head at his strange behavior. Finally, she seemed to notice the faint splotches near his feet. “Robin, is that… blood?”

Despite the concern lacing her tone, he couldn’t help but focus on the fact that she’d used his name again. He liked the way it sounded coming from her lips.

“Is it?” Robin feigned surprise. “How odd. D’you think someone’s hurt?”

She ignored his weak attempt at deflection. “Your feet…” She sighed. “I’m blind and a fool.”

Medea reached down and grasped the silken cloth of her robes between her fingers, tearing long strips away and setting them to the side. Robin was entranced by the process, though admittedly more by the slow reveal of her tantalizing thighs than anything else. New world or not, he was still a man—beautiful women removing articles of clothing were difficult to ignore.

She began tying the cloth together, and when she was done, handed him what amounted to a small loincloth and a couple of loose wraps for his feet. She was petite so that ended up being a significant portion of her robes, which were now more of a jagged skirt ending around her mid-thigh; more revealing than before, but nothing too scandalous. Certainly not when compared to his attire.

He gratefully took the cloth and sat to wrap himself up, admiring her quick handiwork. Unfortunately, the cloth was rather thin, so the foot wraps wouldn’t provide much protection against the rocky terrain. Still, it was far better than nothing, and it did feel nice to no longer be exposed. “Thanks,” he said, smiling. “Much better.”

“I should have noticed earlier.” Medea insisted. “You should have said something.”

He just shrugged. “I’m a strange, naked man, and I’m already getting on your nerves. Didn’t want to push my luck.”

“I’m not… I wouldn’t have…” She sighed. “I would have helped.” Her voice was small, and she shifted in place, staring at her feet.

“You did,” Robin pointed out. “And it’s appreciated.”

The pinched look on her face told him she remained unconvinced but didn’t want to argue the point. Instead, she reached out and offered a hand, helping him to his feet as he tried to hide his wince. “Let’s go.”

In short order they’d reached the city gate, a towering bastion of wood and stone clearly designed to be raised by some unseen mechanism. Medea stopped and knelt some distance from the gate itself, running her fingers over the rocky cavern floor.

“The stone is segmented here.”

She was right—the stone was two different colors, split down the middle like two different rocks had been melded together seamlessly. A quick glance showed the split continued on into the distance, gently curving as it went—perhaps all the way around the city.

“Almost looks like it was carved out and placed here,” Robin mused. “Like someone just picked the whole damn thing up and moved it.”

“The whole kingdom? I suppose I have read of those who’ve performed such feats… though never on so large a scale. A ritual like that would surely require the combined might of the Confluence…” Medea trailed off, gasping. “Could it truly be…? Could the confluence have sank Tarthos…?”

He’d been joking, and really hadn’t expected her to take him seriously. The idea of moving an entire city was completely absurd… right?

“But for what purpose?” Medea continued. “I cannot imagine the Confluence abandoning Tarthos, even in the face of imminent destruction… my people were too proud…”

“Medea,” Robin said, interrupting her slow descent into rambling. “When you woke up, you said you’d failed, and that he was free. I can only assume you meant the flying snake monster.” At her somewhat subdued nod, he continued. “So, operating under the assumption the people of Tarthos were as great as you make them sound, it stands to reason the angry snake monster was a pretty big threat, right? Considering they contained it instead of find a more… permanent solution.”

“It would be simpler to think of a Titan as a natural calamity,” Medea said, pacing around the segmented stone. “They cannot be truly stopped, only weathered… and at great loss. Still, you are correct in that the threat should have been contained…”

“They? As in multiple Titans?” At her nod, Robin sighed and continued. “Alright. Anyway, it seems pretty clear whatever you guys did to contain the Titan worked, at least until now. So here’s my thought: if these Tarthosen… Tarthosers…?”

“Tarthons,” Medea supplied.

“If these Tarthons were so bad ass they could lock down a Titan with Sleeping Beauty… what could have possibly terrified them badly enough to sink their entire kingdom and abandon it altogether?”

They slowly turned to face the city gates, which somehow seemed more ominous than before.

“You believe they sunk the city out of fear. That something worse than a Titan forced their hand.”

Robin shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe they just really wanted to live underground. But hey, know your people better than I do—you tell me.”

“Perhaps…” Medea was quiet for a moment. She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I do not know. I struggle to conjure a scenario where sinking Tarthos and abandoning it is the only course of action.”

“Maybe they locked something inside? How did the whole Sleeping Beauty thing work, anyway?”

Medea was quiet for a moment, fidgeting with the jagged edge of her robe-skirt. “While I am grateful for the compliment, there is a great deal more involved in sealing a Titan than sleeping…”

“Huh?” Robin asked, dumbly. “Oh… It was a, uh, movie reference.”

The blank look on Medea’s face spoke volumes.

“You guys don’t have movies.”

Medea shook her head. “Another thing of yours I am unfamiliar with.”

“Okay, well that’s… a bit of a bummer, actually. But also mostly irrelevant.”

She nodded.“ I will consider the compliment rescinded.”

“Now, hold on… I never said that.”

Medea raised a single, delicate eyebrow. “Well, which is it?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. “Are you messing with me…? I feel like you’re messing with me.”

She made a show of looking uninterested. “I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.”

Huh. So the girl had a sense of humor after all. Unfortunately for her, she likely wasn’t prepared for someone who’d had the propriety quite literally beaten out of him.

“Well, since you asked… I think you’re beautiful.” Robin gave her a devious grin. “Breathtakingly. Seriously, the first time I saw you I forgot to breathe.”

Medea froze like a deer caught in headlights. In fairness, most people weren’t used to receiving sincere compliments from anyone, let alone strangers. Though she probably should’ve known better than to challenge his shame—he’d been walking around naked since they met, and she’d barely been able to meet his eyes.

“Back on topic,” Robin began, throwing her a life vest. “Is it possible going in there,” he pointed at the closed gate, “is a Very Bad Idea?”

She blinked a few times. “Huh?”

Robin tried not to laugh as he watched the gears spin in her head.

“Oh…” She said, finally. “Yes, I suppose anything is possible… but what choice do we have?”

And really, that was a damn good point.