The mid-afternoon sun glinted over the dust hanging in the air of the second floor. Levy had made his way soundlessly up the stairs, knowing where every step would creak if anything larger than a mouse tread on it. The room he found himself in was plain. Closest to the stairs he’d just come up sat a decently sized couch with a moth-eaten blanket draped over the top of it. Rising over the couch was another set of stairs leading further up. On the wall farther from the stairs was a kitchenette equipped with nothing more than was needed for a simple meal. Dishes were neatly stacked on their shelves and a bucket of muddled water with a rag hung over its edge sat on the counter. Past the kitchenette was a thin hallway with two doors on the right, one at the end, and a single window looking out into the city on the left. Levy walked across the living room and made his way towards the first door - to his room.

He opened it slowly, a low, hollow creak echoing through the small space. Across from the door was a window, its metal shudder latched shut, warding off the heat. Under the window was a long twin-sized bed with its headboard pushed against the right-hand wall. There was a tall, well-crafted wooden dresser against the left wall and a nice matching desk was pushed up next to the door. A thin layer of dust and sand covered everything. It made sense. He hadn’t been back here in a while. He got the feeling this always made Aurelis worry, but all he could do about that was visit when he could. Scrapping was his only source of income at the time and, if he was going to continue his quests into the wasteland, he needed some way to pay for supplies.

There had to be something else out there. Some answer as to why he kept having that dream with the voices. What did they want from him? They felt so real. He needed to find out what was causing this.

From above, a distant shuffling sound, like shoes scraping over the wooden floor, interrupted Levy’s thoughts. He lifted his head and frowned.

‘Of course he’s still here.’ Levy let out a huff, plopping himself down on his bed.

It gave a muffled whine under his weight, but nothing out of the ordinary. More shuffling sounds followed soon after before there was a gentle thud and then silence. Levy waited and, sure enough, the familiar rolling back and forth of wood against wood began to rhythmically make its way through the floors.

“I’m not coming up there!” Levy sat, calling to the ceiling.

This happened nearly every time Levy came back after a long time away. It’s like, somehow, he knew he’d returned. Even though, every single time, Levy was silent coming up the stairs and he was two floors above the main house. The muffled sound continued, calm and precise, easing its way into Levy’s mind, no matter how much he tried to push it away. Levy sat at his desk and wrote in his journal to try and focus on anything but the constant sound. He opened the East window, which was now completely shaded, and shook out his sand cloak. He sorted the dishes twice even though they were put away neatly before he’d arrived. Anything but think about who was upstairs. He knew he was waiting.

He found himself on the couch when he finally gave up. It had been a few hours since his arrival at The Sandy Spider and, at a loss for distractions, he’d laid down on the couch, legs crossed over one another with his arms in a similar position. The rocking sound was consistent and others might have found it soothing, but it was driving Levy mad.

“Fine!” He grumbled, tossing his arms into the air in defeat.

He pulled himself from the couch and marched up the next set of stairs. The third floor was a bland collection of boxes and crates stacked in neat and organized piles. They were labeled and sorted according to them. He continued his way along, across the room to the last set of stairs. He’d always found it odd how the stairs to the fourth floor didn’t follow the same pattern as the first two but he didn’t think much of it. He ran his fingers along the boxes, idly reading their labels to stall for time. Some were supplies for the shop while others were personal belongings, stored away for one reason or another. A single crate at the end of the room, just before the stairs, was marked with his name. He ran his fingers over its surface as he walked by, brushing his fingers off on his pants as he continued. For a moment, he paused to look at it. He didn’t know what was in the box. Frankly, he was kind of scared to open it and find out. Every time he passed it, he got a sinking feeling in his stomach that wouldn’t go away until he found himself at the top of the next flight of stairs. So he followed his normal routine, and pushed the crate out of his mind, and went on to the next floor.

Though most of the floors of The Sandy Spider were rather bland, save the bottom floor with its mural, the top floor looked as though it were uninhabited. The longer walls went about 5 feet up before they started to slope up with the roof. The only thing that hinted at anyone living up here was an old, rickety bed that sat at the center of the east wall in between two windows. There was a blanket covering the mattress, tucked in neatly as though it hadn’t been disturbed in some time. The only other thing that occupied the room was an old wooden rocking chair with old or broken parts reinforced with metal rods. In it, rested an older-looking man turned to face the window he sat in front of. He had thin, wispy grey hair and a long beard of matching color. A newer-looking blanket was draped over his lap cascading down to his feet.

“I was wondering when you would come visit again.” The old man spoke in a friendly tone as he continued his idle rocking.

Levy huffed and didn’t move from where he stood by the stairs.

“Titus.” Levy responded.

Silence hung heavy in the air as neither individual spoke. Then, Titus moved a hand to rest face up against the arm of the chair. Hesitantly, Levy made his way across the room and knelt, taking the old man’s hand in his own. Titus turned his head ever so slightly, as if to glance at Levy with his clouded gaze. It was odd. Despite being unable to see, the old man always seemed to know just where someone’s eyes were. They stared at each other for a moment, anticipation hanging in the air like mist. Finally, Levy tore his eyes away, instead looking out the window. Outside, the city bustled on, silent from this room but busy as ever.

“What do you see when you look out this window, Levy?” Titus asked.

Levy started to answer, but paused. Was this a trick question?

“Uhh… the city?” Levy finally replied.

“And what is a city?” Titus continued.

Levy sighed and sat, his legs tucked under him.

“A collection of buildings including shops, and houses, and a bunch of other stuff.” He waved his free hand.

Titus turned to look more directly at the younger man, his expression serious.

“And who runs those shops? Who lives in those houses?” He continued.

Levy grumbled and stood, letting Titus’s hand slip from his own.

“Can we just get to the point?” Levy glared, though not directly at Titus.

Instead, he turned his head, letting his gaze bore into the ground to his side. Titus sighed and reached a hand up to gently take Levy’s. He didn’t resist. He and Titus had their differences and Levy often found the older man confusing and frustrating, sure, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care about him. Titus had always been there, just like Aurelis. He played a different, more passive role in his life, but he was still there.

“People?” Levy sighed as he gave his answer.

Titus nodded, pulling Levy closer before turning to look back out the window. Levy couldn’t help but follow suit.

“You can not find all the answers by yourself, child.” Titus rubbed his thumb gently over the back of Levy’s hand. “You will grow more powerful, but your journey will tear you apart if you continue as you have.”

Levy gave a grumble, but let Titus continue.

“To find the answers you seek, start west. Let the moon be your guide, though don’t stray too far from its light. Its sickness means you nothing but harm. If you make it to the edge of the desert, a raven will be your guide. Treat the birds kindly, for they are the key to your success.”

Levy thought over Titus’s words for a moment.

‘Great, another riddle.’ He glared.

When he returned his gaze to Titus, he was startled to find the man smiling up at him. Awkwardly, Levy glanced to the side and pulled back a bit.

“What?” He furrowed his brows.

“I’ll know you’ll find someone to share your journey with. Don’t be afraid to look where you often wouldn’t.” Titus raised a brow, his smile still spread across his mouth.

Levy gave a nervous smile in response. He gave Titus a gentle pat on the shoulder and pulled the old man's blanket further onto his lap before starting back over towards the stairs. He hadn’t planned on finding a companion for his journey and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. He didn’t care what Titus said. He’d find a way to do it by himself. He always had.