As Hana bolted to her feet, she gasped in the heavy, sticky air. The burning sand covered her arms and legs. She shaded her eyes, blinking the sweat away, and scanned the horizon under the golden sun beating down on her. The sky was a deep teal blue, almost as dark as night against the brilliant sunbeams cascading down in pillars. The air, thick with humidity, held no sounds except the coarse orange grains slipping along in the wind. Hana shut her eyes and buried her face in her hands.

“Oh no….”

A sound resembling metal hitting metal pierced the sky, followed by steady, hollow drums. Hana jumped. The thought of more Joondin appearing over the horizon crossed her mind. A moment later, a rumbling started under her feet. More sand lapped up at her shoes. “Hello?” Hana couldn’t help calling, “Sayrin?”

The noise came from all directions, growing louder until Hana covered her ears and started running.

A shaft of orange spouted upward like a fountain beside her. More clashing echoes followed one after the other. The drums quickened. As the sand blew in the wind, something gelatinous and spindly crawled out of the hole it made. Hana gazed at the worm-like creature with no face other than a gaping mouth before streaking away, bolting over the hot waves.  

“Sayrin! Posdin!”

“Hiata!” A long black thing shot over the amber ridges and past Hana. She screamed and ducked as a screeching roar erupted, the spear sinking between the eyes of the creature.

Hana plummeted into the sand, her entire body shaking in terror. Spitting out the hot specks, she jerked away in time to see the creature drop beside her with a thud, its multiple claw-like legs flailing. Black blood gushed from its head, bubbling beside her.

Several voices cheered over the horizon. Hana picked herself up as a gangly being swathed in what resembled heavy fur coats leaped into the sun. The other spear he carried was limp at his side.

He halted in his tracks, his saucepan eyes growing wide on seeing Hana. “Hiatu! Senat!” he cried to the others behind him. The metallic shriek answered just as the drums ceased beating. Hana edged away from the dead creature at her feet, her heart racing.

“What did you say, soldier?” spat another voice. A being identical to the one standing before Hana clambered over the sand, wrenching off his thick gloves. As they stood there, each layer they wore dripped off them like dead leaves off a tree, revealing their scarecrow limbs and fine armor a deep red.

“Uh, a Human, Captain,” the first being pointed. Hana bit her lip. The Captain’s jagged jaw tightened.

“And what is a Human doing here, Brigdu?”

“I don’t—.”

“Wait a minute!” Hana interrupted, “I was with—!”

More sand belched out of the hills. Hana threw up her arms up as a bright light shot through her, knocking the air out of her lungs. Her breath turned to ice in her throat, and marble ground materialized under her. Fighting the wave of nausea rising in her, she grasped for something—anything—but the air froze her fingertips. As the space steadied, Hana looked up and realized she stood face-to-face with one of the pillars. It hummed around her, staring back as if to mock her.

“Look,” Hana spit. She clenched her fists and tried to keep herself from stumbling. “I don’t need you, the North Wind, or anyone. I’m going home, got it? Going home to my brother!”

The pillars only hummed. Anger simmered through Hana like wildfire.

“My brother needs me! What do you need me for?” Hana raised her fist.

A strike of thunder shattered the world over her head. In a moment, a voice deep as the sea, strong as the mountains, and soft as the sky whispered:

Not yet.

With a cry, Hana thrust her fist through the pillar. Crackling glass stabbed her fingers and dug into her knuckles, shooting white hot pain up her arm. Worlds and stars whirled around her in a myriad of crystallized specks. The pain pulsed, and she tried with the last of her strength but couldn’t pull free. The pillar only seemed to suck her hand in, the hum replaced by a shrieking wail, drowning Hana’s screams.

The crumbling innards inside the pillar loosened, and Hana fell backward. Through the swirling colors in front of her eyes, she made out the lanky, hulking body of a worm hunching over her.

Someone gave a sharp command. A spear dug into the worm’s flesh, spewing steaming blood.  

Hana shut her eyes. She didn’t notice the sun peering down or feel the burning sand underneath. But the purest form of strength Hana had ever felt in her life tore through her. She extended her hand, the pain gone, replaced by light and power.

Ino, the Ghost, stood over her, his eyes white flames. Around him, the sky cleared. And the worm nearby, its head covered with thick films of glass, toppled over, its legs twitching in shock.

“I’m alright,” whispered Hana. She sat herself up. Ino whistled out a mockingbird call. Hana couldn’t help smiling. “I’m OK, Ino.”

Ino glanced at Hana’s hand and lunged for it. Before she expected it, he clasped her fingers as if he were solid. Something glistened like diamonds, and Hana watched as the last bits of skin on her hand melted off. It resembled fractured glass, without bone, crowned with pink, yellow, and green spots twinkling when she swiveled her wrist. It felt light as paper, and Hana sensed Ino’s grasp for the first time as he continued his examination.

“Child, who are you?” Brigdu leaned down, his round reddened face cloaked in fear and awe. Hana tilted backward to look at him.

“Hana, sir,” she answered, dazed.

The Captain placed his spear at his side, raised his hand, and gave her a salute. The rest of the soldiers gathered, their coats falling. Each had lengthy arms and legs, red armor, and stunned expressions. Hana watched as they saluted one by one. The others carrying the horns resembling hooked crystal bottles in the heated sky sounded a triumphant call.

Brigdu grasped Hana’s hand, his fingers reaching her elbow.

“Child, where do you come from?” 

Hana trembled, still stunned by what had happened. “Do you一do you know the Posdin?”

***

“Well, Hana, out of everyone you could have encountered, I’m glad it was the people of the Eastern Ridge!” the Posdin shouted over the sudden downpour.  

“Yeah, but are you sure I should go with them?” asked Hana, “I should get back to一.” 

“No, it’ll be alright! After all, the Old One is there, and we’re on our way!” 

“Never mind that!” Sayrin bellowed, “What happened to you, girl? What—.”

Hana crouched under the cover of one of Brigdu’s coats. The heavy rain turned the world blue as the little army marched over the hills no longer covered in sand. A little white pyramid hung in midair, projecting the Posdin and Sayrin’s voices through the storm.

“The Captain is taking us to someplace I’d call the Court,” Hana called, hiding her hand in the folds. Beside her, Brigdu wobbled through the wind, the coats having grown onto him.

“Hang on!”

The front of the group dove into the next ray of sunlight in their path. As they marched, the grass morphed into the desert, the rain disappearing in the column of heat. Steam curled around Hana’s hair as she sneaked out from under Brigdu’s coat and felt the sand get into her sneakers again. The bulky clothes on all the soldiers sloughed off by themselves.

“Hana, what happened?” Sayrin chimed in through the pyramid, “Never mind, I know what it is. I don’t want to believe it. You’re traversing different layers now!”

“What?”

“Not all lands exist on the same plane in the Denfryon,” said the Posdin, “In fact, there are five of them altogether.”

Hana recalled what had happened to her, how her hand seemed to float as she held it behind her back. She barely felt a thing whenever she touched it. 

Mom will never believe this.

On the other hand, Marcus knew the truth when he saw it, at least as far as Hana remembered from years ago. Hana shoved down the lump in her throat.

“What layers are the Pillars on?”

“They don’t exist on any layer, Hana. We’ve only heard of them in legends, after all,” answered the Posdin with some nonchalance, “Listen, I’m on my way. It takes longer traveling through layers, but I should be there later today.”

The soldier’s heads darkened as they left the sunbeam. Their coats piled back on, and Brigdu took one off to protect Hana from the rain. Ino flew out of the sun and into the indigo darkness, his outline disappearing. “We’re almost there,” Brigdu said, “The Old One will want to see you.”

“Posdin!” shouted Hana, “Would the Old One know anything about the Pillars?”

“Yes, and hopefully, he hasn’t gone off yet! Have fun in Court, and do not run into any more Joodin!”

“Take care, girl,” said Sayrin.

“I will!”

The pyramid folded in on itself, vanishing into the raindrops.

***

All the squat stone buildings in the Dimoven City, as Brigdu called it, lay stuffed together, ascending a steep hill in circling patterns. At the top, a narrow tower, like a lighthouse, with latticed walls, illuminated the city with its red lights. Stripes of green water cut through sections, the water flowing upward. The beings surrounding Hana marched through the sand, into the closest canal, and mounted a sleek black boat manned by no one.

The water rushed them uphill with surprising speed. The buildings became a blur without alleys or gardens to break them apart.

“H-How did you come into the middle of the wilderness, child?” Brigdu leaned down to hear her answer, tapping his fingers together to calm his nerves.

Hana held her breath, unsure if she could tell him, “It’s complicated.”

“Humans do not enter the Disroyu. But I suppose with your power, things have changed somewhere. That is equally unheard of. You might even be able to,” Brigdu tapped his fingers on the railing, “practice the Great Arts.”

Hana gripped the railing and watched the people of Dimoven. They looked thinner without their armor, eight to ten feet tall. Many stood in the open spaces and inside courtyards in groups, though Hana couldn’t tell what they were doing.

“The Old One knows about me. He can help me. Do you know the North Wind by any chance?” 

“Oh dear, the North Wind.” Brigdu’s curled shoes patted the floor as he twitched.

“What—”

One of the horns squealed. Hana looked to see the end of the water flowing despite reaching a high stone wall. The boat wadded to a stop, and Brigdu placed a flimsy hand on Hana’s shoulder as the soldiers stomped as one up the sheer staircase. With help, Hana scrambled up the three-foot-high steps behind them.

“Who is the Old One exactly?” Hana whispered as they followed the others.

Two stony guards yanked the doors to the latticed building open. A wave of warmth drew Hana in as the horns blasted and the soldiers’ footsteps echoed through the domed ceiling.

“Well—I don’t know exactly,” said Brigdu, “Some say he was—.”

“Hana?”

She jumped, searching for the voice that sounded familiar yet different. A little figure peered out through one of the ochre hallways, his grin broad.

“Marcus?” whispered Hana.