Out on the System's fringe lies Hyperian Outpost — the only point of inhabitation along the most treacherous stretch of the Celestial Highroad, and frequented by exactly the sort you'd expect to find in such a place. Summoned from Bharvale Academy, eminent theologian Cera Deyamore arrives to investigate an extraordinary claim — that the fabled city of Hyperia has been discovered

Regular readers of mine will know that I haven’t long been away from Himalia, and many of you may be wondering why I was in such a rush to go back after my ordeal in Circadian City. Well, I had a chat with the Marchioness recently (don’t be so surprised, the two of us go way back), and let’s just say that something she said inspired me to get out and see this pinnacle of Himalayan culture while I still had the chance. I don’t want to say much more because, I don’t know, spoilers, but if you’ve been thinking...

The appreciation that value comes from within opened up a flood gate of ideas. No matter what else, the consequences of what had happened here and what I might have to face, there was no denying I’d done what I set out to do

There are only a handful of folk who can say they’ve witnessed the mysterious forests of Ephemera with their own eyes. As far as uncharted territory goes, Ephemera is the most unchartiest. And I don’t even care that that isn’t a real word. In contrast to sweaty, noisy and crowded worlds like Rhanavar, which seem to just be stacks of people who derive immense pleasure from getting in the bloody way, Ephemera is quite literally a breath of fresh air.

One of my earliest memories is of the time my dad took me up to see Zephyr’s Garden. It’s a Himalayan heritage site, steeped in history, and people make the pilgrimage from all over Himalia to visit the seat of the sky Goddess Zephyr. Religion has kind of fallen by the wayside with my generation, but there are still all kinds of people who uphold Himalia’s reputation for being the most spiritual moon in the lunarspace.

As I walked along the jungle trail, I started to feel the ground twisting; my line of sight extended, so much so I felt like I was already ahead of myself and I had to keep stopping for fear of tripping over distant trees. Colours started to twist too, saturating and separating into primal values, values I can’t describe because they have no name.

I’ve had plenty of dealings with the Twilight Valley over the years, and almost every single time I’ve come away with a sour taste. They’re slippery, real shady like. When you’re negotiating with junkworld scavengers along the barrier rondel or bartering with the spectral thralls of the Demon Road it’s fair to expect some degree of treachery, but these plump little farmhands have no business behaving so contemptuously.

I headed up the hill and realised for the first time in ages (in ever?), there was nowhere that I had to be. I’d completely forgotten what that felt like. Even before I joined the Lodge I was always pushing towards the next thing, the thing that would get me away from the current thing, but the next thing always became the current thing until I realised no thing was ever going to be enough.

I’ve visited Circadian City twice up to now. The first time I only spent a night there on a layover waiting for a balloon out to Khasgar (I refuse to portal unless absolutely necessary), although that’s not to say it was uneventful. Maybe I’ll even tell that story one day. On this second occasion, I had a bit more time on my hands to head out and really see the sights.