Maren sheathed her baton and turned toward the edge of the armory's open doors. "That's enough for today. You've earned a look at the town—get your bearings while it's still daylight."
She raised her voice so the whole group could hear. "Wren, take Group Twelve and show them the settlement. Make sure they know where to find supplies, lodging, and essential services. Stay together, ask questions, and by all means—avoid trouble."
From the shadows stepped a tall figure in Aegis guard‑leathers, face calm behind a close‑cropped helm. "Understood, Sentinel Mareth," they said, voice low and even. Turning to the six climbers, they offered a slight bow. "I'm Wren. Follow me—I'll point out everything you'll need for your first real nights on Floor I."
---
They filed out onto a wide stone causeway rimmed with lanterns. Beyond lay the Verge Settlement—a cluster of low, sturdy buildings ringed by watchtowers and stalls. The air smelled of fresh-baked flatbreads and the tang of oil lamps.
They first went to the local Bazaar, where
Wren led them to a row of curtained stalls. "Here you'll find basic gear—camping kits, rations, climbing ropes. Prices are fixed by the Aegis Consortium, so no haggling."
Elowen paused at a herb vendor, inspecting pouches of dried leaves.
Soren pointed out a vendor selling collapsible tents. "Good for stealth approaches."
Across the Bazaar, there was the forge and amory, where there stood roaring kilns and metal‑clad smiths. "Repairs and custom fittings. If your weapons need tuning—or you want reinforced grips—this is the place."
Kael lingered by a rack of spare chains, eyes bright.
Allen examined a display of reinforced dagger sheaths.
They then took a trip to the Healer's Row, which was a cruciform building with a green banner fluttering overhead. "Basic medical care and herbal remedies," Wren explained. "Not to be confused with field surgery—in the wild, you'll learn that the real healers are your own supplies."
Elowen gave a polite nod. "Thank you."
After then, they arrived at the center, where the message Board stood.
A tall board carved with floor‑wide announcements. "Missions, lost‑and‑found, reward notices. Check this daily."
Caelindra took out a small notebook. "I'll need to bookmark this."
After heading Southeast from the Notice Hall, they arrived at the lodging Quarters.
Rows of small barracks lined up in a war ready fashion. "Each team has a room assigned. Rest, store gear, and convene here. Doors lock with your Consortium key."
Rorek tested a door latch. "Solid enough."
Finally, Wren stopped at a lantern‑lit tavern. "Social hub. Rations, watered ale, rumors. Good place to learn what's happening," they said, voice softening. "Just watch your coin—and your back."
---
Wren paused at the center of the settlement. "Questions?"
Kael glanced around at his teammates—six faces now familiar—and back to Wren. "Which areas should we avoid tonight?"
Wren's eyes flicked toward the settlement's edge. "Past the forge is the Slagward—old kiln ruins. Dangerous even after dark. Stick to well‑lit streets until you know the patrol routes."
Allen stepped forward. "And… any recommended reading or contacts?"
Wren offered a wry half‑smile. "Talk to Archivist Nira at the Notice Hall tomorrow. She sees everything. But for tonight—settle in, rest, and be ready."
As Wren turned to return to Maren's quarters, the six exchanged quiet looks. The settlement lay open before them—full of promise, peril, and the first true taste of life on Floor I. Together, they stepped forward into its lantern glow.
The lanterns flickered through the small window of their assigned barracks as the six of them shuffled inside, each carrying a single pack. The room was sparse—wooden bunks with thin mattresses, a single table scarred by old ink and scratches, and a pair of washbasins in the corner. Outside, the murmur of the tavern drifted in on the night breeze, punctuated by laughter and the clink of mugs.
Kael set his whip‑sword and daggers against the wall, then glanced at the others. "First night. After this, we'll have gear and rest. Tonight… we get to know each other."
Elowen dropped her kit on the lowest bunk. "Anyone else feel like they'll never sleep again?" She unrolled a small cloth and began laying out her herbal poultices in neat rows.
Rorek sat on the edge of the top bunk without a word, unfastening the straps of his bastard sword's scabbard. When his pack hit the floor, it thudded heavily. He gave Kael a sidelong look. "Day two might try to kill me."
Caelindra bounced on her feet, excitement in every movement. "Did you see the stars over the tavern? They're… different. I've never seen constellations like that." She fished a miniature notebook from her pocket and flipped through half‑written glyph studies, tapping a page. "I'd love to ask someone about them, but—"
She trailed off, meeting Allen's eyes.
Allen was leaning against the table, examining a shard of broken pottery he must have picked up in the bazaar. He slipped it into his sleeve without comment. Finally he looked up. "I'll go with you," he said softly to Cael. "We can ask Archivist Nira tomorrow—together."
She brightened. "Thanks."
Soren, who'd been quietly leaning against the washbasins, spoke for the first time since they'd entered. "There's hot water. If someone fancies a bath, it's down the hall—room three. I'll go first, test the temperature."
"Make sure it's not boiling," Elowen teased, her tone warm.
Kael sank onto the bottom bunk across from Elowen's. "I think I'll just sit here and… watch everyone else," he said with a grin. "Good company."
Rorek lifted his sword to his shoulder and half‑smiled. "That's fine. I'll join you—once I've had a drink in the tavern to remind myself I'm not dead."
They laughed together, the sound spilling into the small room and chasing away the chill. Outside, a distant bell tolled the hour. Inside, six strangers—each carrying hopes, fears, and strange new talents—found a moment's peace in shared company before Floor I claimed them once more.
They settled into a loose circle on the bunks and floor, each clutching a canteen or a piece of stale bread scavenged from the tavern's leftovers.
Elowen stretched out her legs and yawned. "So… what's everyone's favorite thing you've seen so far on Floor I?"
Caelindra hopped onto the edge of a bunk. "I'll go first: the glow‑vine lanterns in the back alleys. They hum if you stand too close. It felt like magic."
Rorek shrugged, leaning his sword against the wall. "For me, the forge. The heat, the sparks—reminded me I'm still alive."
Soren smiled faintly. "I liked the echo in the armory. Every clink and scrape sounded… ancient. Like I was tapping into centuries of climbers before me."
Kael flicked his whip‑sword's chain idly. "I'll always remember the moment I first stepped into the Pale Verge. The light… it hit me like a promise."
Allen spoke softly from his corner. "I'm with Kael on that. It felt like standing at the edge of everything I used to know, and a hundred roads opening."
They nodded, thoughtful.
The question hung in the lamplit room, stirring a sudden hush among the six.
The pause lingered after a while, trickling off into silence. It was Caelindra who broke it.
"So," she said, twirling a loose strand of silver-blonde hair, "do any of you have a Sigil yet?"
The question hovered for a moment—gentle, but weighted. Not confrontational, just… curious.
Soren shrugged, glancing up at the stars. "Not yet." He leaned back on his palms. "Though… I get these weird headaches sometimes. Like something's knocking but not ready to come in."
"Same," Rorek grunted. "Tower's playing hard to get with me."
He said it like a joke, but his voice had a quiet tension. Allen gave a small nod, but didn't speak. His gaze was distant, unreadable, as always.
Kael hesitated.
"I have one," he said, softly. "It started after the third trial. It's… still hard to explain. But it's tied to change. To freedom, I think."
The group turned to him, but he didn't elaborate further. And no one pushed him.
Then Caelindra spoke again, stretching. "No Sigil for me yet either. But honestly, I think it'll come when I stop trying to predict it. Can't brute-force the Tower's timing."
That left one.
Everyone looked at Elowen, who sat quietly cross-legged, her eyes half-lidded as if meditating. She met their eyes in turn, then gave a small smile.
"I do."
Soren blinked. "Wait, really? When did it awaken?"
"Third trial," she said simply. "Just before the end. It came quietly."
Kael leaned forward. "Do you mind showing us?"
She hesitated—not out of fear, but as if choosing something delicate to share. Then she lifted her hand and touched the space just beneath her right ear.
A soft blue glow shimmered across her skin, like moonlight through water. The mark pulsed — a teardrop-shaped Sigil, faint but steady.
She reached toward Kael with two fingers, and he felt it: a strange warmth pressing lightly against his chest. Not invasive, not manipulative — just… calm.
Like a tide washing over anxiety and restlessness.
"It's not healing, exactly," Elowen explained. "But it helps people think clearer. Feel what's buried, and let go of what clings."
Kael exhaled, surprised at how suddenly his shoulders had relaxed.
"That's… amazing," Caelindra said, eyes wide. "Like a song without sound."
Elowen let the glow fade. "It's still weak now. But I'm learning. One emotion at a time."
Silence followed, but it wasn't awkward. Just thoughtful.
For a brief moment, the rooftop felt sacred — six souls wrapped in mystery, lit by the Tower's quiet stars.
The lantern's glow faded, leaving only the soft hum of distant vents. For a moment, no one breathed. Then:
---
Kael was the first to speak, voice hushed. "That… that's incredible, Elowen. To carry calm like that." He rubbed his chest where he'd felt her touch. "I've never felt anything like it."
Caelindra leaned forward, eyes bright with wonder. "It's like you carry a piece of dawn inside you. Do you think it only works on people you know, or…?"
Elowen shook her head, cheeks flushed. "I don't know yet. I tried it on Rorek after the relay—just a quick touch—and he stopped limping for a while."
Rorek looked away, scuffing a boot on the stone. Then, almost grudgingly, he met her eyes. "Didn't know I needed it… but I'll admit, it helped."
He glanced at Kael and Allen. "Everyone could use a dose of peace now and then."
Soren sat up, grinning. "I knew there was a reason I stayed near you in the tunnel. Clever choice, Mareth." He shrugged, playful but genuine. "Guess I'm first in line when I crack under pressure."
Allen reached out, gently brushing Elowen's hand. His voice was soft, careful: "Thank you. For sharing that—us." He paused, then added quietly, "Whenever you want to practice… I volunteer."
She gave him a small, grateful smile, and he looked away, as if shy even in the dark.
---
The six sat in companionable silence after that—each lost in thought, comforted by the knowledge that among them walked a living salve against despair. Outside, the Tower's false sky drifted on, but inside their circle of light, hope had taken on a new, steady heartbeat.