Ten thousand kilometers beyond the Sacred Mountain, Jared and Luther drifted through the sky, their course as aimless as their thoughts. They needed the Celestial Basilica, yet neither knew where to find it.
The Fourteenth Firmament dwarfed the thirteenth; without landmarks, the vastness felt endless.
"Mr. Chance, which way do we go?" Luther called, the wind tugging at his cloak.
Jared scanned the rolling forests and jagged valleys below. Not a single city broke the green expanse.
"We find someone who knows the roads first," he decided. "There should be a small city or trading post nearby,"
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