“Watch out!”

Penny throws herself at Ren, knocking him right off his feet. They go crashing into the ground and out of the way of the incoming knight. Hooves glide over their heads, barely brushing the hair on their heads. Ren can only stare at the bellies of the horses, disintegrating skin stretched thin across their skeletal bodies.

When the flurry of horses passes them by, Ren scrambles to his feet, pulling Penny with him. Penny gasps, grabbing Ren’s arm, the other pointed at the horseman charging once more.

“Run!” Ren shouts.

They take off, feet slamming against the ground, spraying dust where they step. Adrenaline shoots through Ren’s veins and blood rushes in his ears. The clopping of the hooves grows in volume, ringing out in the quiet of the landscape.

They’re on foot. Their pursuers are horses.

There’s no way they can escape.

As if it can’t get worse, Ren’s foot catches on a knot of grass. He yelps, toppling face first into the ashy grass and pulling Penny with him. Penny crashes into him, crushing his bones. Ren coughs, spitting out the ash on his tongue.

He turns back, only to be met with a blade inches from his face. A sword as black as night, held tightly in the gauntleted hand of the knight. With a single move, he can easily stab Ren through his skull, or lob off Penny’s head.

The closeness of death has never felt so real before.

Ren isn’t sure how much time has passed since they were caught in this stalemate. (It’s not much of a stalemate, really. The knight obviously has the upper hand here) The team of horses behind them whinny impatiently, but the knight pays them no mind.

From behind that helmet, Ren can only imagine the triumphant grin stretched across the knight’s face. The merciless aura which radiates off him in bursts. The air of a killer.

Why is the knight…hesitating?

Then, they utter something. The knight’s deep voice rumbles in Ren’s ears. So low, that Ren almost missed it.

“Luminaries.”

L-Luminaries? Where did Ren hear th—

Before he can continue the thought, the knight whips his sword away from his face and holds its arm up. Something zipping through the air slams into the metal, and Ren and Penny can only watch in pure shock as the knight yanks on their steed’s reins.

Another arrow zooms through the air, striking another horse in the flank. The equine neighs, rearing on its hind legs and turns to glare at the source. Standing where the arrow flew from is a row of archers, arrows nocked and at the ready. A girl leads them, messy hair matted to her perspiring face as she holds the readied crossbow in her hand.

“Fire!” she thunders.

On cue, the arrows shoot through the air, raining upon the horses. The knight growls and raises their sword, charging at the army. Ren can hardly move, his body frozen as the skirmish begins right in front of his eyes.

Beside him, Penny hops to her feet. She grabs his shoulder and tugs at his arm. As if a switch flipped in him, Ren picks himself up, eyes widening at the arrow that just sailed by his head. It stabs into the muzzle of the horse behind him, and the horse neighs, turning tail and putting some distance between them.

All around them, the din of battle echoes in the expanse of grassland. The horses neigh and stomp, crushing screaming people beneath their hooves. The humans retaliate with their flurry of arrows, keeping most of the horses at bay. Spilled blood stains the ground a dark crimson as red as the sky. Ren keeps his grip tight on Penny’s arms, fearful gaze darting from horse to human and back to horse.

“Oi, you!”

Dodging the cloud of arrows is none other than the girl who leads the army. She grabs Penny’s wrist and pulls, taking both of them with her. Ren stumbles along, grass disintegrating with each step.

“W-Wait, where are we going?” Penny shouts.

The girl does not respond. Instead, she continues running, darting around horses and sidestepping arrows. Suddenly, she screeches to a halt, soles slapping the ground and spraying up ash. She whips up her crossbow and lets a bolt fly at a charging horse.

The bolt pierces the horse’s eye and it retreats with a screechy neigh, shaking its head and trying to rid itself of the implement. The girl begins sprinting again, and Ren almost falls flat on his face from the pickup in momentum. They jostle past the ranks of archers, weaving past people nocking bolts and drawing strings back.

“Where are you taking us?” Penny repeats.

The girl still refuses to answer. Once they are far enough behind the main force, she skids to a stop and drops to a squat. She digs at the ground, brushing away clumps of soil and ashy grass, piling them up at her side. It reveals a cover made of metal, then a hole under said cover. Or rather, a slide that seems to go on forever. Where in the world does this lead? How…?

“Through here,” the girl says. Her accent is so thick that Ren can barely understand her. “Tell them Gridel sent you.”

Ren opens his mouth to reply, but the girl does not give him a chance. With a single kick to his back, she sends him tumbling into the hole. Ren’s stomach drops and he screams even through the rush of air from his lungs. Penny’s desperate cries soon follow. The walls of the earth are unforgiving, which Ren learns as he slams his cheek against the rough surfaces, dust getting in his nose and mouth. He hacks and coughs, even as his body hits the bottom like trash through a rubbish chute.

Ren winces at an audible crack as Penny lands on his back, and he swears she would have shattered his spine if she was just a little bonier. Penny pushes off him, and Ren groans at the throb in his rib. He lifts himself off the bed of potato sacks. Potato sacks? What are potato sacks doing here?

“And who might you be?”

Ren glances up at the voice, only to find a short, stocky elderly man standing before them. He sports a long, white beard, so long that it reaches the ground and drags along his feet. He clutches a cane between his knobbly fingers, fashioned of dark wood. Set in its middle appears to be an amethyst, gleaming purple in the light of the torch.

“U-Um, I’m Penny Gladsworth, and he’s my friend, Ren Higuchi.”

Ren bows his head. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

The man chuckles. “My name’s Rayfel Vigil. Pleased to meet you. We don’t see new faces nowadays. Did Gridel send you?”

Gridel. It’s the name of that girl, isn’t it?

“That’s right.” Penny nods. “She told us to come here, and…”

“Is that so?” Rayfel hums, before turning his back on them. “Come with me, then.”

He begins to cross the rocky corridor that lies ahead, past the flickering torches. Ren and Penny exchange glances. It does not seem like they have any choice but to follow. Their fate lies in the hands of this hobbling man.

The corridor, apart from the torches, is featureless. Just one, long road from the landing pad to wherever it takes them. They walk for quite a while, the sounds of groaning machines growing in volume with each step.

“Where did you come from?” Rayfel asks. “You must have journeyed very far to reach the Ashen Plains.”

“Well…” Penny nibbles on her lip. “We came from Britain.”

“Britain? I’ve never heard of such a place.”

Figures. They are from another world, after all. Should they tell him? Penny meets his gaze and, seeming to understand what he is asking, shakes her head. Ren keeps his mouth shut.

“Well, you must have come from across the sea, then. Though, our scouts have not reported the sighting of any vessels. Unless, you have a way to arrive from the air.”

“We, uh…” Penny flounders for words. “We kind of crashed.”

“Encountered a storm, did you? I did sense a change in the winds.”

Sensed a change in the winds? Underground?

The grinding of machines gets louder and louder, the sing of metal against metal grating on Ren’s ears. The corridor eventually opens up into what appears to be a mineshaft…no, not quite a mineshaft.

It’s a town built on cliff-like platforms, houses crudely formed from boulders and stones. The settlement bustles with activity, its bottom floor a street filled with stalls and kilns, carts and the strange creatures that pull them. A blacksmith pounds on a blade with a hammer, a farmer tends to a pen of…mutated chickens and a couple of children run about, as if playing a game of tag.

“You look like you’ve never seen a colony before.” Rayfel hums. He turns back to the streets, a sort of pride shining in his eyes. “This is Gravelle, the colony under the ground.”

Gravelle…It looks so primitive, from the abodes to the workspaces, to their tunics and robes…Ren feels like he’s walked right into a movie set in historical times, a novel set in the medieval era.

Just how far away are they from home?

Rayfel then begins to make his way down the stone stairs that will take them down to the busy street. “Let us go. All newcomers must meet with Elvira.”

“Elvira?” Penny asks.

“The Queen.”

The Queen! Ren swallows thickly. Of course, they’d have a queen. There must be a governing body, after all. But still, must they meet her? What if the Queen decides that she doesn’t like them? What if…?

Watching the chaos of the street is so very different from actually being in the chaos. Rayfel moves through the crowd like a needle cutting through water, but Ren and Penny find themselves jostled and shoved. Deafening shouts from shopkeepers blare in their ears. Ren nearly bumps right into a gazelle-like animal which snorts and glares at him as he walks.

Another thing that he notices are the eyes. Virtually every pair of eyes is trained on them, watching their every move. Ren shrinks, like a bug scrutinized under a microscope. He sticks close to Penny and Rayfel as they make their way between two cliffs. A pulley system grinds and clatters above their heads, clouds of dust raining from above as bags of stone and coal are ferried from one cliff to the other.

Past the cliffs is a marble archway, gems of all shapes and colours embedded in them. Intricate engravings on the archway curls around the topazes, embraces the sapphires and borders the emeralds. The archway is but a mere portal to another realm of beauty that stuns both Ren and Penny.

A castle as white as snow stands in front of a roaring waterfall. It is as majestic as Buckingham Palace, streams pouring in from crevices in the rock walls replacing well-trimmed gardens. The light of the luminous crystals studding the water reflect off the clear glass, giving the castle a fantastic sheen. What a sharp contrast to the rest of the houses that Ren saw.

“Whoa.” Penny takes in the sight like a tourist, wide eyes sparkling like stars. They cross a bridge, Rayfel’s cane tapping lightly against the wooden planks. A couple of knights stand in front of the castle’s pristine doors, decked out in chainmail armour, swords sheathed.

Ren shivers at the glare one of them throws his way. He does not want to be on the receiving end of those blades. It would cut him like a knife through butter.

Rayfel approaches the doors, and upon a clearance of his throat, the two guards push them open. The heavy doors creak and groan on their hinges, scraping against the rugged ground. As if the exterior of the castle is not impressive enough, the interior is even grander.

Most of everything is made of stone, apart from the brazier burning brightly in the middle of the concourse. The fire illuminates the quartz statue of a hunchbacked man just behind it, who sports long hair that tumbles down to his back. In one hand, he holds a ring, and in the other, what appears to be a book.

Stone staircases carpeted with multicoloured hides run along the sides of the castle, and between them is a hallway that leads farther into the palace. Tapestries cover the walls, as blinding as the carpets themselves, depicting symbols and emblems that Ren does not recognize.

“This is so cool! Is this a real castle? Who is this?” Penny squeals, darting over to the statue. Rayfel taps his cane, and Ren stands automatically at attention.

“That, my dear girl,” Rayfel says, with an unmatched sternness in his tone, “is the statue of Sovac, the Servant of Unwavering Loyalty.”

Penny stiffens, and returns to Ren’s side, features drooped like a kicked puppy. Without further elaboration, Rayfel passes the statue, and shuffles down the hallway behind it. Ren travels half the hallway before he realizes that he’s alone. It’s only upon turning back that he finds Penny still standing before the statue, head tilted.

“You coming?”

Penny jolts. She utters an absent affirmation, and hurries after Ren and Rayfel.

At the end of the hallway is another massive door, made of wood this time, strips of black metal affixed to it. Two more guards, clad in shinier armour—iron, probably—straighten their posture as the trio approaches. They bow, almost in unison, and upon Rayfel’s demand, they allow passage into the cosier chamber beyond.

Beyond the doors lies what must be the most beautiful hall that Ren has ever laid eyes on.

Chandeliers fashioned of crystal and stone hangs from the ceiling. As with the main concourse, braziers lining the walls provide sources of warmth, crackling fire warming what would otherwise be a chilly chamber. The only other defining features of this room are the pair of thrones that sit at the far end, upon a platform.

On one of those thrones, reviewing what appears to be several parchments, is none other than a woman with a crown perched on her head. Her silver hair curls around her wrinkled face, complementing the blinding white and cream of her robes. A young man kneels beside her, giving off the air of a prince, clad in an ivory-coloured vest and a pair of tight-fitting trousers.

“Oh, Rayfel.” The Queen, Elvira, tidies the documents and hands it over to the man by her side. The man receives the documents and rises, standing by her throne. “Who might these be?”

“Newcomers,” Rayfel says. “Gridel brought them.”

“They summoned the Horseman?”

“That, they did.”

The Horseman? Was that the knight who led the team of horses? Ren has so many questions, but he shrinks under Elvira’s penetrating gaze. She scrutinizes them, cautious gaze shifting from Ren, then to Penny.

“What are your names?” Elvira asks. “And from whence did you hail?”

“I’m Ren Higuchi, and this is my friend, Penny Gladsworth,” Ren answers, somewhat amazed that his voice remains steady. “We came from Britain. It’s, um, it’s pretty far…”

“Britain?” Elvira mumbles, almost thoughtfully. She glances at the ground for but a second, before lifting her head. “I seem to recall hearing that name before.”

“Have you?” Rayfel asks, raising a brow. Ren and Penny exchange hopeful glances.

“Perhaps…” Elvira shakes her head. “I don’t quite remember where, unfortunately.”

Ren deflates like a balloon.

“In any case, how did you find yourselves here, in the Ashen Plains?”

Ren chews on his lip. They can tell the truth, but the idea of entering this world through a portal opened by a prayer and a ring is absurd. Will any of them believe their story? And what if they don’t?

“We were transported to this world by the power of the Sun God,” Penny says. She takes a step forward, but that step is sure. Certain. “We recited the Sun’s Blessing prayer and held an onyx ring to the sky.”

“The Sun God?” the man who stood by Elvira questions. “Could it be?”

Rayfel hums. “Perhaps, but that myth is known far and wide. We would have to seek an audience with Gaia for confirmation.”

Gaia? Who or what is that?

“Indeed.” Elvira nods. With the help of the young man, she rises from her seat and hobbles down the step and out of the throne room. “Let us head to the shrine. Gaia will be able to tell us more.”

Whatever can this…being tell them?

Elvira ascends the stairs with a vitality that Ren did not expect from one her age. The young man remains dutifully behind her, hands clasped against his back. It’s only now that Ren gets a good look at him—a handsome thing with broad shoulders, muscles hardly concealed by the stretched fabric of his vest. Taking every step with purpose.

“You’re staring.”

Ren jolts from his thoughts. Penny clicks her tongue, shooting him a knowing look. Ren glances away, hating the way the heat rushes to his cheeks. If Elvira, the man or Rayfel noticed anything, they don’t speak up about it.

They reach the top of the stairs and Elvira travels down another elaborate hallway, this one decorated with statues. Chiselled from the finest of marble, or quartz, they depict what appear to be fairies, creatures resembling humans with wings like butterflies. Each of them holds their hands together, as if in prayer.

At the end of the corridor lies another giant chamber. It is not as big as the throne room, but it is still big in its own right. Unlike the throne room, this chamber is sparsely decorated. Candles line its walls, held by crystalline candelabras. Before the lordly sculpture of a bear is a small desk, upon which sits a tray of ash. Stuck within the ash are sticks, with wicks long since burned away, but they still emit a pleasant, floral scent.

The sculpture, on the other hand, is not so kindly. The bear glares at them, and though it is a sculpture, Ren can feel the ferocity in its eyes, as if the statue may come alive and leap at them at any moment now. Penny bounces on her heels, whipping her head about and oohing and aahing at everything she sees. At the unblemished beads strung up around the bear’s neck, to the glint of the gems embedded in the crown on its head, the bright powder-white of its splayed claws.

“Is that Gaia?” Penny asks, jabbing a finger at the bear. In a split second, the young man grabs her arm and twists it. Penny stifles a scream as she is forced to the ground, the man digging a knee into her back.

It happened so fast that Ren hadn’t any time to respond. Penny whimpers.

“Never,” the man breathes. “Never disrespect Gaia again.”

Don’t point at religious sculptures. Got it.

“Vane,” Elvira admonishes, without even once tearing her gaze from the sculpture of Gaia. “Gaia does not condone needless violence.”

The man, Vane, huffs, but lets Penny go. Ren rushes over to help her up, and Penny rubs at the spot where he jabbed his knee into her flesh. Vane strides over to Elvira’s side, but Ren finds him occasionally glancing back.

“O spirit of the earth, our great Mother Gaia,” Elvira bellows. Her voice resonates in the echoey chamber, lending strength to her frail tone. “In our time of need, we seek Your guidance. For Your brethren, the mighty spirit of the flames, Ignis, has, at long last, delivered on His promise.”

Ren did not understand half of that. Ignis? Spirits? A promise? What promise?

At the Queen’s last word, the chamber rumbles. Tremors as violent as an earthquake. Penny edges closer to Ren, who in turn keeps a tight grip on her wrist. However, the Queen does not break her gaze with Gaia, and neither do Rayfel or Vane.

Gaia’s eyes—orbs the colour of mystical jade—gleams, and Ren shudders. The sculpture glows, a stream of sparkles and light wrapped around it like a blanket. The flame dancing upon the candles flicker, and a velveteen voice reverberates throughout the room.

“The Luminaries have arrived. How fortunate.”

That word again. “Luminaries”. How many times has Ren heard that in one day? Gaia pauses, and when no one speaks to fill it, she continues.

“They who will deliver Zenthos from Pestilence, War, Famine and Death. They who will journey to the Twilight Domain and to crumble the tower that rests upon the clouds.”

“The Citadel, Mother Gaia?” the Queen asks, her voice but a whisper in the holy chamber.

“Only with the riddance of Pandora’s Citadel may be the world be restored to its former glory.”

With that, Gaia’s voice fades, and the sculpture returns to its inanimate state. Ren can almost feel the whoosh of the wind as the spirit leaves the room. The chamber quietens, and the Queen turns to them.

“As you have heard with your own ears, Gaia has spoken,” she says. “The two Luminaries of lore shall embark on their quest in order to save our world, as the gods dictate.”

“Wait. Hold on a minute,” Ren splutters. “Save the world? What do you mean save the world? We just want to get home.”

“But that is not what Gaia says.” Rayfel stabs his cane against the ground. Ren flinches at the thwack of wood against stone. “And Gaia’s edict cannot be challenged.”

Ren furrows his brows, trying his hardest to keep his voice from cracking. There’s no way he’s letting himself get dragged into this mess. They’re not protagonists in a video game! “We’re just normal kids. We don’t know anything about this world. We can’t fight or anything, and…we just…”

Want to go home. The words die on the tip of his tongue. It’s one thing to be thrown into a whole new world because of a “magical artifact” that just happened to work, but to need to save the world? With that Horseman thing out there?

“Well, I don’t see why not,” Penny says, hands on her hips. “I mean, we get to travel the world, right? It’s going to be an adventure of a lifetime!”

Vane coughs. “At least the girl has some sense.”

“And misplaced optimism,” Rayfel mutters.

The Queen nods. “It is settled, then. Tonight, we shall hold a banquet for the two Luminaries, in celebration of their arrival. Tomorrow, they shall begin their journey and free us from the oppression of Pandora’s Tower.”

A sense of dread claws at Ren’s chest. What did Penny just agree to? Travelling the world? Deliver this world’s people from War, Famine, Pestilence and Death? Aren’t those what the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse represent?

Penny falls into step with the Queen, rattling questions off at top speed. The Queen entertains her queries with patience. Rayfel walks quietly behind them, cane tapping against the ground with each step.

“What are you waiting for?”

Ren jumps at the commanding tone. Vane walks up to him, arms folded. He fixes Ren with a most condescending gaze—with eyes as narrow as a fox’s—then harrumphs.

“To think that a child like you would be the Luminary of lore. It’s laughable.”

Without another word, he marches out of the room, leaving Ren standing in the chamber, all alone.