They reach the top of the stairs.

Riale is... interested to meet this Saerith. He waits to see what Ranelin will do.

Ranelin is led to the middle of the balcony, and then takes a deep breath and calls, "Saerith! I know it's really early, but I think you're going to want to wake up! You'll like the world Esere made, it's the oldest one yet! And Kastimund almost likes the new creator, I think you'll like him too, he's very smart and nice and we think we can stop the cycle this time! They woke me up on the first day, maybe we can get everyone awake in the first month if we hurry, but not if you sleep in!"

There's a rustle of wind, and the breeze swirls through the market and around the trio. It's surprisingly warm, for the altitude.

"Come on, get up, we have things to do and a world to save."

"Unless of course you'd rather leave the job to me," murmurs Kastimund wryly.

The wind stirs again, stronger this time. It picks up stray papers and swirls them together in a cyclone on the balcony -

And sends a large newspaper right into Kastimund's face.

Saerith materializes from the gale, dark skin contrasting with the pale greys and muted yellows of the clothing the androgynous spirit wears. A dark collar binds the spirit's throat tightly enough that it looks painful, though Saerith doesn't seem to pay it much mind. From the sardonic expression, it seems Saerith does not want to leave saving the world to Kastimund. Shorter than Kastimund, but taller than Riale, the spirit is scarcely on the ground before returning to the air that acted as a harbinger.

The air spirit locks eyes with Riale, smiling warmly. Then Saerith brings a finger to lips to signal that he should be quiet, looking slyly in Ranelin's direction.

Ranelin, of course, hasn't noticed Saerith's entrance yet. "Come on you've got to almost be awake by now, the world's so pretty, Esere made sure there were places just for us to wake up in -"

Saerith smiles fondly, floating behind Ranelin to disturb her hair with a breath of air in lieu of a hello impossible for the spirit to vocalize.

"Saerith!" says Ranelin with obvious delight, giggling and turning towards the spirit. "Hi!"

Saerith nudges her with a finger that's immediately hugged by the tiny spirit, and plants a gentle kiss on her temple before gracefully relocating her to a shoulder and turning back to Riale and Kastimund.

Kastimund peels the clingy newspaper off of his face, incinerating it with a breath of fire.

"Hello to you, too," he says, mock-reprovingly.

"Hi," says Riale to Saerith. "I'm Riale. Delighted to meet you. Want to see a scale model of the world?"

Saerith nods, delighted!

So he opens the book and closes his eyes and goes looking for where he left that model he made for Ranelin, and—

It appears on the ground in front of him, just about as tall as he is, an open-sided metal frame with islands and continents floating unsupported inside. He opens his eyes, locates Highpoint in the model, and points at it. "We're here."

The spirit's eyes widen slightly at the obvious display of magic, but then Saerith's face cracks into a grin.

After a moment of study, Saerith begins signing.

Kastimund clears his throat theatrically, then says in a slightly airier tone than he usually uses, "'Do you have an idea of where to find Laisanni yet?'"

He changes his tone back, then replies, "Somewhat, we know what province she'll be in and have a suspicion of which town we'll find her, but it's less blatantly obvious than you and Ranelin were."

When Saerith signs, Riale watches, and when Kastimund translates, Riale listens.

"Ranelin was in Dawnbrook," he contributes, pointing it out on the model. "I have guesses for all the rest - Laisanni's the one I'm least sure of, actually, I know she's got to be in Wildwood province but I can only vaguely guess she's probably in Glittering Meadow, she might be somewhere else. Everyone after that I'm pretty sure I have the town or at least the major landmark."

"'Good, so that worked as Esere planned, that'll save us a lot of time, how old's the world, and what day of the year is it?'"

"3645! Second day of Fire."

"'And he's already doing magic? Kastimund, did you build yourself a bridge to get over the river of nihilism,'" he rolls his eyes, then adds in his own voice, "Ocean, thank you, quite impossible to build a bridge over," before continuing with, "'or did Esere manage a stable enough magic system that he could use as a basis, or is he just brilliant?'"

Riale continues watching Saerith sign.

"The magic system is very stable and I am pretty brilliant," he says when Kastimund is done translating. "I have immense respect for this Esere guy, it seems like he did an amazing job making this world."

"'He put a lot of work into it, I'd known it would be the best one yet, but if you're doing magic already and found the three of us by day two, he did better than I expected.'"

"Which is impressive, because as I recall, Saerith expected the best of this world."