The Cathedral of Light

A breathtaking spectacle of magic and stone perched precariously at the world's edge.

It was nestled against emerald-green cliffs that plunged violently into the glass-calm waters of a vast fjord. This was no mere settlement, it was a cathedral of light. The architecture was grander than anything I had imagined. Intricate structures climbed the rock face, dominated by enormous domes of stained glass and impossibly high spires. From within, they pulsed with a soft, internal radiance, casting a spectacular kaleidoscope of colours across the cobblestones and into the darkening sky. Below, the bay acted as a giant mirror, doubling the city's brilliance in the deep, silent water.

A massive bridge spanned the harbour, a stone giant connecting the jagged cliffs.

Every walkway was lined with ornate railings and small, flickering light sources. I watched, mesmerized, as countless figures, tiny as ants from this distance, moved across the bridges and wound their way up the labyrinth of stairs and paths that clung to the precipice.

But the heart of the city lay at its highest point. Next to the largest dome sat a structure that defied nature. A palace built of colossal, glowing blue crystals. Smaller crystalline formations lined the walkways like frozen lightning, humming with a visible, magical power. Between the bioluminescent glow of the crystals and the thousands of tiny lanterns hanging from windows and street posts,

the city didn't just exist, it shimmered.

"There´s the city. Good luck, New Worlder." I blinked at the distant spires. "Wait, aren't you coming with me?"

"Afraid not," he replied, his voice clipped and final. "I have business elsewhere for the time being."

I hesitated, then reflexively reached out to shake his hand, a parting gesture of civility.

He simply stared at my outstretched palm as if it were a strange, alien thing, then looked me in the eye. "No, thank you," he said. He turned on his heel and began to stride down a diverging path.

A flash of heat rushed to my head. "I’m not poisonous, you know!" I shouted after his retreating back. He let out a short, dry laugh, not bothering to stop or look back. "I know," he called over his shoulder.

 I entered the city edge alone, and the sheer strangeness of the crowd stole the breath from my lungs. Figures with curved, obsidian horns moved through the throng, while others had long, tufted ears that twitched at every sound. I saw a woman laugh, revealing a row of serrated, predatory teeth, and men with glowing runic marks etched deep into their skin. They came in every possible shape, towering and stout, reed-thin and wiry, some covered in thick pelts of fur while others were as smooth and hairless as river stones. Seeking refuge from the overwhelming sensory assault,

I pushed open the tinted glass doors of a nearby tavern. The air inside was thick and suffocating, smelling of stale ale, roasted meat, and the tang of wet fur. It was a cacophony of life; patrons swayed on their stools, howling with laughter or locked in boisterous, drunken embraces. I approached the bar, where a formidable man stood cleaning a glass. He was a mountain of a man, his head half-shaved, leaving a long mane of dark hair to fall over one shoulder. His nose was bulbous and scarred, the mark of a lifetime of barroom brawls. "Excuse me," I said, raising my voice over the din.

"Do you know where I can find a room?" The big man looked me up and down, his gaze heavy.

"I’ve got a room left."

"I'll take it," I said, a wave of relief washing over me at the prospect of a roof over my head.

I'd very much like not to sleep under the stars tonight. I pulled out my coin purse,

the weight of it feeling suddenly small in this massive, strange place. "How much?"

The innkeeper leaned forward, his shadow falling over me. "Five gold dasus," he said flatly. I started to fumble with the ties of my purse, but a sharp voice from behind made me freeze.