The city of Anthem was an enormous one, and balanced between two worlds - four if you counted the ones that didn't actually exist directly on their plane, but no one usually did, since numbers were simpler when kept in regards to what was immediately tangible to the current speaker and audience. If anyone was referring to the other two worlds, it was usually as "the other two worlds," and if anyone said "Anthem," it was usually to refer to the main two worlds, which weren't really worlds at all, just levels of elevation - High and Low.

The High world, at the top of the Anthem cliffs, was graced occasionally with sunlight; whereas the Low world, hewn into the lower fifth of the cliffs and along its shadow, remained brightly lit by the virtue and properties of luminitive wire and fungus.

So really it was a single world, and two other ones on the other planes.

There was frequently much debate around the taverns about whether Anthem was actually composed of five worlds - that was, High, Low, Tenor, and the two other ones on the other planes - but mostly this kind of debate was reserved for academies and taverns, and if those residing on the cliffs found it frustrating that they were considered neither High or Low, but in fact were inhabitants of a non-world sandwiched in the definition of Anthem, there was little argument about it, or even complaint.

In the end, Anthem was a city - an enormous city, lit at all times by light harvested and trained into halls and buildings and tunnels, into the worlds that existed within High and Low on the skywires and belowground, the worlds that were opened with a single breath and closed with the thump of a dagger into it.

There were bloods of all colors, there were creatures of all textures, and there were the usual, banal vices. It was not, entirely, the best place to live; but was a place where many did so anyway, however fleetingly and meagerly, however best they could despite whatever circumstances that had pushed them there.