Chapter 22: Life is an adventure

The air above the clouds tasted like wonder.

As Nagomi stepped out of the underground vault and back into the daylight of Skyrend, a rush of crisp, cool wind greeted him. The floating city shimmered beneath the gentle sun, its towers of polished brass and glass gleaming like beacons in the sky. Below his boots, the suspended walkways gently swayed with the subtle breath of the wind.

He blinked against the sunlight, pausing for a moment as if waking from a long dream.
“Back to the surface… no, back to the sky,” he muttered, smiling to himself.

Skyrend stretched out before him like a mechanical paradise—bridges spiraling between platforms, cogs and turbines humming in harmony, and airships drifting lazily above like metal whales. Everything felt alive here. Clockwork birds zipped overhead, trailing sparks and feathers of steam, while the chatter of merchants and travelers echoed from the market squares.

He took a deep breath.
“Okay, Nagomi… no slime, no traps, no creepy statues trying to curse me this time. Just… fun. I earned this.”

With a light step, he wandered into the city.

The central square of Skyrend was a marvel. It wasn't just a marketplace—it was a performance. Venders didn’t just shout prices, they sang them in sync with the chimes of rotating bell towers. A group of dwarves sold fried mechanical beetles that clinked when you bit them. A hooded elf was levitating glass marbles filled with swirling color, claiming each one held a “pocket storm.”

Nagomi stopped at a stall that offered what looked like… floating pastries?

He leaned in. “Are these… flying?”

The vendor—a round man with goggles pushed into his forehead—grinned. “Skyrend’s finest! Wind-puffed cloudcakes! Baked with just enough lift crystal to make them bounce!”

Nagomi chuckled. “I’ll take one.”

The moment he bit into the fluffy pastry, it burst with a light vanilla-citrus cream, almost evaporating on his tongue. It felt like eating a puff of a summer breeze.

“I’m not going back to regular food ever again,” he mumbled as he chewed.

He soon wandered into the artisan district—Gearspindle Alley. It was quieter, but filled with delicate sound: the tick of fine instruments, the hum of enchantments being etched into metal, the occasional ping of a tiny hammer striking enchanted ore.

One shop caught his eye: a display of gauntlets suspended midair, each rotating slowly, glowing with intricate inscriptions.

A short woman inside—with blue-tinted glasses and a floating wrench—noticed him.

“You an adventurer?” she asked, tossing him a cloth to wipe the sweat off his brow. “You look like someone who’s been crawling through vaults.”

He laughed. “You could say that.”

She offered him a modified bracer—sleek, adjustable, with slots for items and potions.

“Free sample,” she said. “Only because you look like you appreciate quality craftsmanship.”

“Thanks. I’ll pay it back if I survive the next dungeon,” he said with a grin.

By midday, his legs were aching, and his heart full.

He found a rooftop lounge near the edge of the city—The Skyglass Bloom. There were crystal tables, floating cushions, and a transparent floor that looked straight down to the swirling clouds below.

Nagomi slumped into a seat with a sigh. A waitress floated over on a levitating platform and handed him a menu made of light. Every item shimmered and changed as he looked at it.

He ordered something called Sunset Ember Tea and a snack named Gustroll Wraps—apparently made from gliding beasts of the highlands.

As he ate, he watched the sky. Small airships came and went, birds circled lazily, and the city’s massive engines pulsed gently beneath everything, like a heartbeat.

He leaned back, arms behind his head.
“So this is what it feels like… to enjoy the world.”

As the sun dipped low, casting golden shadows across Skyrend, Nagomi wandered onto a viewing deck near the edge. The clouds blazed orange and pink, and far in the distance, mountain peaks poked through like islands.

He stood there silently.

“I used to dream of this,” he thought. “Not just the adventure… but the freedom. A place where I’m not stuck in some loop of school, work, sleep. A place where the air tastes like dreams.”

A soft breeze brushed his face, ruffling his hair.

“I want more,” he whispered. “Not just strength… but this. The quiet moments. The taste of tea on a floating terrace. The feel of sun on my face after a cold dungeon.”

His hand gently touched the new bracer. He felt the pulse of Skyrend through the metal—alive, beating, breathing with him.

As night fell, Skyrend lit up like a constellation. Lanterns floated in midair, casting soft hues of blue and gold. Mechanical fireflies blinked in the trees, and music drifted from taverns and balconies.

Nagomi wandered with no destination, just letting the city guide his steps.

He passed a group of kids riding small floating boards. A bard sang stories of the sky’s edge. Lovers danced in a square lit by steam-powered lanterns.

And for the first time in a while… he didn’t think about what came next.

He just smiled.

“This… this is living.”