Chlorine Halos

Instincts

Urgency pulled the reins on Jasper's actions, as he leapt to his feet and sprinted toward the edge of the ridge. Matching the rhythm of every swift step, the thrusting swings of his arms streaked the air with the glowing light of the strata in his fist. He arched his back in a fluid motion, sailing into the sky and over the waters, heading with haste to the city.

Maestro covered most of my shoulder with his massive hand. He remained hesitant to lock his eyes with mine and focused on the thin blades of grass by the toe of his black boot. He breathed slowly in an even pattern, as if his serenity could only be granted through the meditative exercise. Suddenly, his voice broke free.

"Listen, I—" 

He paused. The derailment discouraged me, but was short-lived. He finally brought a gentle stare to my face.

"—could really use a drink," he finished, relaxing his tone. The corner of his mouth released a frown and traveled upward to a lopsided grin. "Come on. I know just the place to fix the problem."

With my illuminated strata in hand, I followed Maestro along an airborne route, similar to the flight path Jasper blazed on his way to the precinct. We veered to the right of the entrance beyond the multi-colored penrose gate, landing on a balcony carved out of the dark, spotted granite which walled the city. 

Shift.

The balcony opened to a cavernous corridor, braced by tall timbers which added a touch of warmth to the cold stone hall. This corridor led to the fifth level of the towering Escheron, peering over the maze of warped walkways, bridges, and stairs. Countless elements and arbiters hustled through their routines, filling the space with echoes of indistinct conversations and clacking footsteps. I traced Maestro's beeline, arriving at a threshold, framed by two columns with beveled edges and crystal inlays. Near the column on the left, a young woman leaned against a crooked, curved glass podium, cheer blushing her cheeks. Her long brunette hair was tied to the side with a red lace ribbon which complimented her red velvet necktie and cumberbund.

"Welcome to the Crescendo!" she greeted with an undeniable effervescence.

The pastel marble floors of the Crescendo slanted downward, ending at a window which spanned across the entire far wall. The pane of glass captured the ethereal rays which escaped from the pillowy clouds outside. Semi-circular booths catered to their parties and ran alongside the lengths of the walls, perpendicular to the aesthetic window. In the center, a horseshoe bar with the gleam of a polished espresso finish served the surrounding patrons. The aromas of sweet, tangy sauces and savory grilled meats danced slowly with the scents of fresh, buttered bread and intoxicating applewood smoke.

"Thank you. We'll be taking our seats at the bar," Maestro replied to the hostess.

"Above or below?" she chimed back, gesturing to a pair of penrose orbs which were cradled by a pedestal beside the podium.

The structure and trappings of the Crescendo were reflected above us—lines of booths and a centered bar satisfied additional parties and patrons. All appeared upside-down on a marble floor which slanted upward. As my eyes drifted around the spectacle of the immaculate restaurant, it became clear why the name was fitting.

Maestro nudged me in the arm with his elbow, bringing me back to the question.

"Um... below," I answered, not truly having a preference.

The hostess gracefully pointed to a single penrose. "Enjoy!"

When Maestro touched the glowing glass orb, he leaned forward slightly and continued to the bar, unaffected by the sloping floor. I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow, and placed my hand on the penrose.