The three figures congregated downstairs on the mezzanine a few minutes later. Draven found something for Ren to wear, board shorts and a t-shirt. Thalgor stood awkwardly to the side, protectively clutching their satchel.

  Draven prepared tea for two; reluctantly, he added a third cup to the tray. Ren, observing this, gave a silent nod of encouragement. He took a seat near the end of the room’s wall table, speaking to Draven over his shoulder as he sat, “Do you have a round table? It's nice to be able to speak, face to face, you–”

  In answer, Draven banged the tea tray down over his other shoulder.

  Ren looked to Thalgor, who stood awkwardly fidgeting with his satchel's straps. Ren smiled, sliding out a pillow before patting it, bading him come sit, “Come on, Thalgor, join us.” Thalgor glanced nervously at Draven, who continued to ignore him.

  Ren smiled, reassuring him, “It’s cool, man, I don’t know Draven well, but he seems a bit on the cranky side.” Thalgor folded his muscled bulk onto the pillow, carefully placing his satchel in a neat pile atop his legs.

  Ren, observing the excellent care he took over his satchel, decided to ease the tensions, complimenting the cautious orc, “ Love that bag, bro, it goes with the hood. Are you like a magical librarian?”

  Thalgor draped his oversized hood behind him, running his hands down the laced collar, coming to a point in a V across his well-muscled chest. He looked toward the floor as he spoke, “I’m an [Apprentice Keeper ], thank you, Ren. The stachel holds my keeper's tomb; it is most precious to me. I – we keepers, never travel without them.”

  Ren spoke as he poured tea for all, "This little guy is so cute. It's like he's pouring tea along with me. Did you give it a name? I think he looks like a Lewis!"

  Draven folded his arms across his chest, turning away as he spoke, "It came from my village.” Thalgor winced.

  Ren, the observant, helpfully asked, "When was the last time you visited home? Is it far from here?"

  Draven turned to stare daggers in Thalgor's direction, "I can't ever return. The village elders have cast me out."

  Thalgor muttered under his breath, "I had no choice."

  "We were bog-brothers!" Spat Draven.

  Ren paused in returning Lewis to his tray, a heavy silence in the air, “Ok, can we not. I don’t want to chip Lewis’s nail polish.” So saying, Ren delicately and very carefully placed the pot on the tray, “Thalgor, what exactly happened to me back there?”

  The apprentice keepers' faces turned serious, all traces of caution gone, "Your body was forcing out all of its impurities, becoming stronger. It’s not something you should have been able to do. Not something anyone has done since – since before, the old world.”

  Draven eyed Ren as he tipped back his cup before growling, "Ren, I don’t know what happened to you, but I’d not trust what this one has to say.”

  Thalgor, ignore this. His thoughts drifted to Rens' comments on the Crystal Plains, “Are you really from – from the outside?” He spoke almost reverently.

  Ren rubbed the center of his chest, ignoring the question, “My chest has been feeling strange ever since – well, it's been feeling strange, that's all I’m gonna say.”

  Thalgor held his chin between two fingers, “Could it have been the Chest of Wonders? Muscles is a bearkin – they don’t need levels to break bones.”

  The wall in front of them shimmered, something bounced away with a high-pitched thump – a series of sharp whistles, had Draven, bowling over his turtle-pot in an effort to lower the field, “DG4!”

  A spunky football, kitted out with wings and a shark fin, gave a series of beeps and whistles, while a tiny cockpit filled with red and green lights trailed from fore to aft in excitement.

  Draven’s eyes locked onto the dirigible, and he spread his arms wide, “It’s, Ok, DG4! You’re safe, you’re –” Draven turned to glare at Thalgor, “Get back, you snake, you're scaring him!”

  DG4 spun in place, keel and dorsal jets flaring, as it bobbed up and down. A look of concern grew over Draven's face.

  Thalgor was glancing back and forth between the two. Ren scratched the back of his neck. He was getting Lassie, 'what is it, boy vibes' from the situation.

  Ren leaned over, speaking quietly to Thalgor, "Is that a food delivery drone? Did someone order food and not tell me?”

  Thalgor shook his head once, all hints of humor lost on the orc, “Nay, that is a spirit beast, containing the channeled souls of his dead parents.”

  Ren, head still, slid his eyes in DG4’s direction. Ever since waking from the vat of chemicals, expelling the impurities, he'd felt different. He hadn't said anything – he didn't know what to say. Things just seemed brighter, noises sharper. As he looked at the floating spirit companion and its animated gestures, he felt –

  DG4 went silent, swivelling to face Ren, like a homing missile.

  With a flourish of jets, DG4 zipped through the air, Draven having successfully lowered the field, the little flyer hovered to a stop just before Ren. All of DG4’s cockpit lights flickered to life, creating an adorable imitation of puppy dog eyes.

  Ren leaned closer, captivated by the meticulous craftsmanship that went into this charming creation. The stitching along the wing veins was remarkably even and tight, a testament to the care taken in its design. The hand-painted balloon body was a work of art itself, featuring flecks of brushstrokes that gave it an organic, leafy texture, as if it had sprouted from the very trees of their world.

  The delicate netting enveloping its form was made from a fine, tightly woven material, enhancing its elegant appearance while promising durability in the skies. Ren couldn’t help but smile at the dirigible’s antics.

  "Hey there, little one,” Ren smiled. He swore he could feel the happiness coming out of the little guy, like the memory of his first ice-cream cone, he’d been at the fair with his –

  What? The memory of my first – since when, who remembers –

  Ren’s thoughts were interrupted by a pleading Draven, “What is it, DG4! What's wrong, beep slower, I’ll try and –”

  DG’s happiness shifted to agitation as Draven interrupted their moment of bonding, “You’re right, Draven. Its emotions are shifting, but – he’s definitely agitated.”

  Draven and Thalgor both turned in Ren’s direction, looks of shock plain on their faces.

  DG4 beeped and whistled as he did a cute 360, complete with a short bob up and down.

  Draven looked resigned as he spoke, “He agrees with you, Ren.”

  “Can you sense DG4?” Asked a curious Thalgor.

  All Ren could think about was the previous statements on Draven’s parents’ channeled soul, “Y-yes?”

  Draven spoke with his eyes on the floor, “We were never bonded, I always assumed – since I was their creator, and my parents, but –”

  Thalgor spoke up, concern clear in his voice, “I’m sorry, Draven, I–I didn’t know.”

  Those words seemed to cut Draven even more.

  Ren scratched the back of his neck. “ Where did he come from?”

  “He alerted me, and I followed him out of the Spire. The clever flyer had us hide while Brains and Muscles passed us by. That’s when he led me to you, Ren,” responded Thalgor.

  Ren squinted, “I see, well, Draven’s parents seem–”

  “Actually, DG4 is an amalgamation of spirit mana and the souls of his parents. They were more like ingredients in DG4’s construction. It's a forbidden technique, quite fascinating – really, but one Draven was punished for. It wasn’t his fault, not really, he–”

  Ren, seeing Draven’s eyes narrow, decided to speak up, “I see, fascinating, there are worse ways to spend a parent’s souls?”

  Draven slowly turned his head, redirecting his ire at Ren, before sighing, turning on his heel, and reaching into his duster pocket.

  DG4 moved to hover over Ren’s shoulder, as the three figures watched Draven stomp up the stairs.

  Ren shrugged and headed up the stairs after him, his two new companions following in his wake.

  Two orcs, a human, and a dirigible passed over bridges wrapped in flowering vines, walked neighborhood platforms – bustling with laughter, and cut between alleys crawling with wyrmback lizards.

  The chillest and definitely best-dressed Ren, in his soul-bound flip-flops and board shorts, reflected on the fledgling team's dynamic. It was the quiet librarian and the brooding soul mechanic. Ren decided he needed some clarification, “Draven, you summon healing bugs, right? You’re also an evil mechanic on the side or…”

  Draven crossed his arms. “My village has many ancient traditions, and my class is my own.”

  DG4 beeped twice in agreement, while Ren added, "Riiiight, well–I hope there's no hard feelings. It's not like I can tell DG to–"

  "It's DG4." Snapped Draven.

  "Yeah, yeah, right. I just thought DG was a cool nickname, yah know?” Ren could hear Draven's duster pocket rustling, "There's nothing wrong with a nickname, right?

  Draven's only response was to blow a cloud of smoke in his direction. Ren changed the subject. "So where are we headed anyway?"

  Thalgor spoke up, "To a hanging market, they are less frequented by guild officials, since they aren’t located in the districts."

  Draven exhaled another cloud of smoke in Ren's direction.

  The team approached broad, steep steps that literally grew out of the deck and up to the elevator platform above. Ren took them two at a time, DG4 still locked in position over his shoulder. Reaching the top, a chuffing bear had Ren crouched low, “Is that–”

  It's just another bearkin, be cool.

  The bearkin sneezed, a geyser of particles spraying in all directions. Ren’s eyes narrowed.

  Draven and Thalgor came up behind him in a shoving match. He decided to ignore them; it was best they worked this stuff out of their system – he hoped.

  The bearkin wiped their nose before chucking the tissue to the ground.

  Ren gritted his teeth, stepping forward – he stopped

  A chihuahua-sized monkey dashed along the ground in the direction of the offending tissue. White hair puffed out of the top of their coveralls, framing a soft pink face. They snatched up the tissue – before, tucking it into the empty air. Then, like a NASCAR pit crew, job done, they disappeared.

  Ren double-took, mouth agape, the low hum of a mana-powered platform, cut off as it thudded into place.

  The bearkin, standing tall and proud just moments before, as it showered the area in germs, collapsed onto all fours – the apparent, preferred mode of travel - before shuffling onto the platform and settling in its direct center.

  The three companions awkwardly crowded around, looking at each other. Even Thalgor and Draven shared a look.

  Awkward silence was interrupted by the crack of the rune shields being raised, and gravity shifted around the elevator’s occupants, as the mana engines hummed to life.

  Ren wondered if they could find a way to do elevator music in this world, as if to accent the point their barkin companion farted, as they settled onto their rear.

  Ren inched away as best they could, noticing the grey hairs spotting this large mound of walking chaos.

  Oh, they're elderly, so all these behaviors are just endearing, rather than disgusting.

  The vertical travelers' heads jostled as the elevator came to a stop, the field falling away; grumpy Grandpa Bear exited first; the fledgling companions followed hot on his heels.

  The team of three gazed down into the expansive, grand plaza below —a vibrant tapestry of activity. Whirring up and over the deck behind them, DG4 settled comfortably, resting over Ren’s shoulder like a trusty companion ready for whatever lay ahead.

  They stood on a raised walkway that encircled the bustling market beneath, the air thick with the scents of spices and the distant sound of haggling voices. Ren ambled over to the vine-covered railing, his eyes drawn upward to the enchanting sight above. There, rune-covered vines dangled delicately, emerging from a mysterious, foggy veil that shrouded the plaza in an ethereal glow. Soft shades of blue and red pulsed from the vines, intertwining with tufts of sage moss that sparkled like jewels against the backdrop of the mist.

  Zeppelins and dirigibles of various shapes and sizes floated gracefully in the air, weaving between the vines like insects drawn to a nightlight. Each craft contributed to the surreal atmosphere, their gentle movements synchronized with the ebb and flow of the market's life.

  The moment of awe that enveloped Ren as he took in the majestic, misty ceiling was abruptly shattered by the lively sounds of the marketplace; laughter, shouts, and the rhythmic clinking of coins echoed around him. With his sense of wonder replaced by the vibrant pulse of commerce, Ren felt the excitement of adventure tugging at his heartstrings, urging him to delve deeper into this captivating world.

  "Buy one get one spec--"

  "Highest level craft-orc this side of Tiant's Nexus--"

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  The low murmur of a crowd mixed with the chinking of plates and the laughter of those with a little too much to drink in them.

  His two companions soon joined him, one on either side. Ren's eyes moved along tent-tops: some stripped, some rune-covered, and others shimmered translucent. A group of children gave chase just below them, no parents in sight. Signs painted on vendor stalls and hung from banners gave some clues to the myriad items to be found below. Ren spoke as his eyes traveled from one booth to the other, not knowing where to begin.

  "Can I borrow some coins?"

  Draven placed an unlite rune-stick in his mouth and walked away.

  "I'm light at the moment, ask money bags."

  Ren raised an eyebrow at Thalgor.

  "Those of us who work in the spire come by coin--it's a lucrative class."

  Thalgor dug into his satchel.

  "Here, I cleaned out my stash before coming to find you. A good [ Keeper ] is always prepared."

  Draven snorted in the distance.

  "Uhhh, you better go after him. I think it's important we don't double up on supplies."

  Ren looked over his shoulder at his new familiar.

  "Can you be our eye in the sky? Keep a lookout, and make sure none of us get separated."

  Thalgor fast-walked after Draven, his satchel held close, the hood of his cloak parachuting over his head. DG4 floated up towards the ceiling to join the flock congregating above.

  Ren's senses were sharper than they had been when he visited the platform where he met Churi. He smelled food: meats, fresh fruit, baked goods, and sweet drinks.

  I need meat.

  He located his destination from his elevated position, picking out one scent among thousands: the scent of grilled meat. Running in place, he took off in a flash, down the stairs, flying past his party members on the way. His target saw him coming, a look of amusement on their face. Ren was in a dream, slow-motion running, as an orc in a chef's hat, extended the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, to Ren's outstretched hands.

  He stared down at the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Delicately placed meat chunks were perfectly spaced between juicy mushroom slices, while grilled pineapple added a sweet and sour note to the mix. To cap it off, cherry tomatoes begged to be ravaged, placed every fourth byte.

  For an isolated swamp, they certainly have a diverse mix of fruits and vegetables here.

  He spoke around piping hot food.

  "De-rciouse--am HAT"

  The orc spoke over their shoulder, as they continued grilling.

  "Family recipe, takes the right combination of skills. That's on the house--tell your friends about my stall."

  Ren nodded vigorously.

  "I'll tell my party members as soon as I see them, there here now--somewhere."

  The grillmaster scooped up some more skewers and placed them on a hot plate at the edge of this stand, rune-field shimmering in protection around them. He dug around below the counter before pulling out a small bundle of skewers.

  "Ahhhh, explorers are you? A dangerous trade, considering this is a dimensional area. You'll want these then. Skill-enhanced skewers, simply slide the meat on — and Shaka's your grunt — your meat will be grilled and flavor-enhanced, with no extra heat required. It's not going to be as good as what I can produce over my grill--"

  He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. Ren leaned to the side, eyes peering at the grill behind him. Noticing it for the first time, it did look fancy, more akin to a spaceship on wheels than anything.

  "--but what, your elbow deep in bog mud, these little guys are your best friend."

  Ren held out a handful of coins, and Chef's hat took a few. Ren thanked him and turned. It was time to see what other treasures he could find here--he left the sounds of sizzling fat and sputtering flames behind. Foot traffic clustered in flows of traffic coming and going. Mostly orcs, he saw a few beastkin, a crane to his right reminded him of Churi. A couple of frogkin dressed in matching white linen shorts and V-necks--their laces undone, exposing stripped black and tan skin. They had on custom flip-flops wide enough to fit their large webbed feet. They reminded Ren of his own special sandals. He glanced down to check that they were still on his feet. Comfortable as they were, he'd forgotten he wore them. They'd changed colors again; black straps now held red runes, to match his shorts. The scent of fresh, sweet, and sour pulled him up short.

  Hello, what have we here?

  His head pivoted right; the stall he was looking at was splashed with bright colors, not from paint but from the tropical fruits that decorated the walls.

  Fruits of every kind hung from hooks and spilled out of hanging baskets. The stall owner wore a dark blue tropical dress complete with puffy shoulders, they wore a white and yellow lei around their neck, and a wide-brimmed straw hat sat atop their head. He selected a particularly plump pineapple, taking it off a hook. He held out some coins to the straw hat vendor.

  "Thank you, sir. The skin's edible, [ Waste Not, Want Not ]. My ultra rare--proud of it, I am. I'm the first in my family to get one."

  Holding the pineapple upside down by the stalk, he gave the fruit a skeptical eye.

  "Go on, don't be shy now."

  Ren shrugged and bit into the top like an ice cream cone. Chewing a mouthful, his eyes watered in joy as he pondered skills and the mysteries of the universe.

  More of the too-joyful laughter focused his attention. There seemed to be a lot of it, how many cups of--His eyes tracked a peculiar movement, orcs walking hand in hand--what were they sharing?

  "They're practically zig-zagging, how many--is that a sugar-covered banana? What is..."

  Ren left the fruit-stand behind. This required further investigation.

  An orc in a pink kimono fed another in a top hat, a banana--that was definitely coated in sugar crystals--but they were lime green. More movement, he paused and turned, there. The old bear from the lift sat on the ground, his clawed paws curling open and closed, as he eyeballed an apple peeled and covered all over with candy blue sugar crystals. Opening his mouth, a gust of steam--Ren could smell its breath from here--SNAP. The bear bit the apple clean in half, munching happily before gulping and snapping up the rest of the apple, practically stuffing his own paw in their mouth.

  Ren's eyes were spinning spirals, his head swiveling like an owl, noting smiling faces and sugar-coated fruit. He needed to try some. He glanced down at the pineapple in his fist– and suddenly felt it was lacking.

  Vanishing and reappearing, he teleported around the night market until he found what he wanted--what he needed. Before him was an array of paper cones, no bigger than a juice box, lovingly placed on delicate wooden stands. With eyes now glued to the display of candied delights, he held out his open, coin-filled palm. Without looking up, he asked, "What do you recommend? It's my first time."

  "Sandy of Sandies Candies." Ren pulled his eyes from the splendor before him. A topknot held together by a red band at the base of her bald head. Her smile was genuine, showing the hint of fangs. She was bare-chested but for two thin straps of woven vines that covered her chest in an X.

  Her presence is palpable--I could feel her from across the market with my eyes closed. Ren ignored the pressure, smiling before returning his gaze to a cone filled with purple dust.

  Sandi just raised a single eyebrow, "You're a strong one, aren't you. I see you have a good eye as well."

  Ren's arms, straight and unwavering, still held out the coins. Sandy took a few, pointing with her chin, "Try the purple, I think you'll like it."

  Ren nodded as he plucked the cone, "Could you pack some from the road? Not sure how long we'll be gone, we're headed for the Wayfarers Guild."

  Sandy gave him an appraising look, "You're in luck. I've just replaced my old pack — I'll sell you the old one for a song. If you're headed for the Wayfarer's, you'll be needing it."

  In exchange for a few coins, Ren had a new pack. It was a worn brown, a simple item, basically a fanny pack; not the coolest thing he'd ever worn, but the price was good--he thought. Ren glanced down at his pineapple drum, dusted in purple delight. The sights and sounds of the market swirled around him. Ren was still. In that moment, there was nothing but him and his next bite.

  Slowly and carefully, so as not to lose a single grain, Ren bit down. His tongue danced, his lips sang, his mouth watered, and his eyes slowly closed. He spoke around a mouthwatering bite.

  Sensations washed over his body; his toes so happy they danced a jig. The feeling spread upward from there, tickling his knees, warming his thighs, and kissing his stomach. A smile split his face from ear to ear. He was just missing one thing, eyes scanning the horizon --

  Barrels, brass nozzles spouting from their bases, stacked along the edge of a table. A black banner, its white brush strokes declaring: 'Chuggs Chuggery.' Ren dug the vibes, "I bet there's a pirate brewer!" Ren made a beeline for the stall.

  Five gruntlings blocked his path, spinning two ropes in opposing directions, forming an X. In the center, twins slapped hands and skipped rope. A purple mohawk bounced--Ren paused to watch--the other brother's long orange hair was flipped to the far side, exposing a rune-covered scalp.

  The onlooking crowd cheered, whistled, and stamped their feet. Ren clapped along as he skittered around its edge. He had a Chuggery to reach.

  The owner of Chugs Chuggery stood up from behind the counter as Ren approached, "Low there, bog walker, what brings yee to Chugs--" He was portly, which was unusual for an orc. The second thing Ren noticed was his long red hair and braided beard. Four small braids centered around a larger single braid in the center of his chest, each held together by glittering gold bands, engraved with unfamiliar markings.

  Ren's eyes locked onto a barrel painted with a red skull and crossbones.

  "Ho ho--I see you have a mind for what yee be after." Guffawed the brewer.

  Ren nodded, his mouth beginning to water. Absent-mindedly, he took another bite of his pineapple. He spoke around a sweet-sour chunk, holding out his coins, "Chug, tell me, do you have to go to cups?"

  The brewer grew still, and a slight breeze ruffled the fur on his shoulder pads. He glanced at the strap slung over Ren's shoulder, "Where yee headed, lad?"

  Ren smiled more than was necessary for the moment, "To a Wayfarer's guild, outside the City--I'm not sure which."

  The portly figure raised an eyebrow, "I see, don't look like yee be sure of much at the moment. Might be best, yee take all this drink fur the road." He pointed to the pack slung over Ren's shoulder, "I've just the thing fur that explorer's satchel -- Call me Brewgar, Chug was me grandsire."

  As Ren placed his pack on the table, Brewgar's gaze sharpened; the air around him stilled, becoming heavy and oppressive. Ren took another bite from his pineapple drum, wondering why the sound around them was muffled, as he returned the Brewgar's stare, with an anassuming, blank look.

  The world sped up, the air thinning back to normal, as Brewgar spoke, "What level are yee lad?"

  Ren spoke from around a bite of the sour-sweet treat, "Eh--erm, Iu'm wevel pen."

  It was Brewgar's turn to raise an eyebrow, "What's that lad, level ten yee say! Chew yee food first, what are yee a bald cub!"

  Ren wiped some dribble from his chin, "Sorry about that, this stuff's really good--I'm Ren, level ten [ Echo Runner ]." He declared, pointing a thumb into his chest.

  Brewgar rubbed their chin, "Ten, herm. Interesting--yee be a strong one."

  Ren nodded along, losing focus, as his eyes kept sliding back to the red-marked kegg. Brewgar, noticing Rens' shifting gaze, sighed, "Right well, here take this--only fill half the horn. I'll set up yur Junior Explorer's Satchel."

  Ren--ignoring Brewgars' instructions had topped his horn--"What, uhhh, what is this a horn from?"

  "Blood fly, perfect for drinking. Huh Hooo." The brewer turned to see Ren eyeing the horn skeptically.

  Ren shrugged before taking a long pull, only to splutter and cough, "Ahh, it's in my nose, it burns!"

  "Take it easy, lad. That there zug zug is known as Titan's Fall. Poor some O' that on the roots of a city tree and--"

  Brewgar brought both fists down on the table, rattling its contents, "We all crash to the bog below--the tree itself drunk, roots gone slack in the soil!"

  Ren snorted in amusement. Brewgar gave him a stern look, tugging on his pleated beard, "S'true, there be toppled titans, there villages lost to the bogs; haunted be they, those that lived in the boughs, thur deaths at the feet of a fool, careless with their zug zug." Ren doubled over, the orcs' serious delivery too much for him to contain.

  Ren doubled over with laughter, froze, as Brewgar spoke, "[ Store ]." A miniature keg Brewgar had been preparing disappeared from his hand.

  Brewgar handed back Ren's pack, "Here lad, a gift, yee be strong fur the levels, might be yee can handle it."

  Ren was feeling pre-te-good right about now. He clutched an empty fly horn in one hand. Looking down.

  "[ Store ]" The horn disappeared, gone in a blink.

  So cool.

  Ren thought he would've toppled like a titan from Brewgar's story by now; Lying in a puddle, a watery grave to his dignity. Instead, he stood firm, relatively, staring at a chewed pineapple stem--his cone of Sandyu's candy long gone. He eyeballed a nearby bin, wondering if a gibbon was going to pop out, intercepting the stem, as he chucked it, "There's got to be a story behind those cute little garbage collectors--speaking of cute, where's my little football guy?"

  Sensations of Euphoria and giddiness had joined hands to dance a merry jig over his inhibitions. Ren gazed up, "There you are--Heyyy! DG, DG!" Ren waved, jumping up and down, spotting his new companion. DG appeared to be courting a pink and yellow zeppelin near a massive patch of sage moss.

  Ren staggered a bit, looking around for something--Ahh, there, if I get closer, the little fella can come down and say hello.

  "I wonder where the others are? I haven't seen them in--"

  Ren bumped into a beautiful orc, a mysterious band running across her eyes, thick raven-wing hair falling around her shoulders. A look of surprise and concern spread over her features as Ren spoke, "Sorry, my bad--too much zug zug!"

  She backed away, hiding her expression with a bow, "Not at all, have a good evening." She quickly ducked around the corner, hiding away in her stall.

  Ren glanced up from where he'd been looking, "Odd, chill sandals--like a seventies flower girl." He hiccuped as he squinted, looking around.

  Ren spotted a platform--no, it was a light fixture. He approached, curious and transfixed, as he felt a resonance with it, "That looks sturdy, like bulletproof glass!" Ren reached out a hand, a comfortable warmth emanating from it; he touched the housing, an upside-down L. The texture surprised him, as it appeared smooth and hard, but felt soft and grainy — like plastic. He ran his hands down the length of the fixture, gripping the edge and testing his weight. "Seems sturdy enough." Ren grabbed a wall vine in his other hand, hoisting himself aloft as easily as a gymnast.

  With an inward flex of his chest muscles, Ren propelled himself up, spinning around to sit atop the fixture, a proud smile on his face. He glanced around the market. Smiling to himself, his gaze shifted to the ceiling. A dejected DG4 puffed small jet streams in his direction. Leaving behind his pink love interest--a red zeppling now in her orbit.

  "It's ok, little buddy. You'll get 'em next time."

  Ren the [ Echo Runner ] had a feeling; he had many feelings, having consumed entirely too much of everything. Closing his eyes, Ren felt for it, his core—a dense, vibrating mass in his chest, there you are. He let the sounds of the night market wash over him—laughter, clanking dishes, children playing, vendors hawking.

  All his other senses faded away, even sound--until there was only the vibrations in his core, resonating with the symphony of the market's activities. His skin tingled and his eyes watered. Up on his feet, though he didn't remember standing, Ren opened his eyes and looked down at his empty hands. "I need you again." He smiled, thinking of his decks, which always reminded him of Mom.

  Pointer and middle fingers extended on each hand, thumbs out; Ren moved them in opposition, energy draining into his fingers, crackling circles appearing in the air. The world snapped back into place. Ren’s decks shimmered into existence.

  Eyes glowing white, hair waving like snakes to the sky, Ren leaned over, flipping switches, turning dials; synthesizing the vibrations of the market, washing it in musical chords, swelling with cinematic-rich strings.

  The market was his, swaying; one undulating organism, their only purpose to feel the groove—a ritual of art and life.

  Love these vibes, Ren peeled faders, bending the music; chords twisting into an interstellar electronic techno. Ren was out of his mind. A cool white flame rippled around him, like the head of a matchstick, mixing with his hair; whipping in a hurricane of energy, a visual representation of the chords wrapping the crowd—the sturdy plas-glas beneath his feet, vibrating with the light of a sun.

  The drop came metallic and thunderous. A reckless and chaotic euphoria erupted across the market, no longer one organism—each dancer blasted off to their own dimension, their minds and bodies free.

  DG4 zoomed by Ren, dropping a short, metallic scepter; its topper was a rounded, grilled rectangle; Ren lifted the mic to the sky, knees pumping, hips swaying. “Shoutout to Churi, her tea's like nectar from the--LIKE NECTAR FROM THE SYSTEM!" Ren settled into a stillness, casting his eyes to the ground—a moment of silence, in recognition of the loveable vendor.

  His head slowly rose, and the crowd waited on bated breath; the music calmed to the whisper of a crowd. As he spoke, the volume rose with his own, the music resetting to the build-up. "I come from a land far away!"

  VWOMP!

  He shook his head with a crooked smile, "I have nothing to give but that which I am."

  VWOMP!

  He raised a hand in mock surrender, "And that which I am beats in my chest!"

  VWOMP!

  “I am you, and you are me.” VWOMP!

  "So dance, grunts!"

  Dance beastkin!"

  Dance one, dance all!”

  VWOMP!

  "Because tonight is your night!"

  He repeated the last line as he mixed in the drop, and the crowd joined in. The market sang louder, swayed faster, hands in the air, they shouted; voices breaking. It was too much; the mana lamp shattered, sending Ren arching to the center of the market. He struck a pose, eyes glowing, hair dancing.

  The crowd's energy ignited as they pushed their levels to the limit.

  Children jumping rope became ninjas of the night, moving at impossible angles to dodge now living ropes. Sandy's lightning-fast hands kept her cones from spilling. Brewgar bounced in place while staring at Ren, a strange expression written on his face.

  Ren hovered in the air while fireflies flitted above his head in a halo. He was a super saiyan of dance, a mystical [ Echo Runner ] emanating light and sound. Meen-Tra, her frustrations forgotten now, upon her toes, spun around like a ballerina, kicking her leg out to the side and sending the occasional decorative sandal flower spinning off into the void. Her eyes sparkled as she gazed upon the [ Echo Runner ].

  I love this story and its world. I'm in it for the long haul, trying to improve every day. Please rate, follow, and comment — it truly means the world to me.

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