The Grand Arcana Port of Aerodynamics (the centerpoint of Reville’s arrivals and departures via air travel) was truly grand as its bold name made clear. Near the Enlightened Towers, the port was constructed using copper, brass, noctite beams, and shimmering glass that reflected gradients of rainbow light. There were a great number of glass panes; thus, rows and columns of heavenly light dripped down from the heaving azure sky and bathed the area in uncontested luminescence.

  Swirls upon the metal made the bustling crowds dizzy as if they weren’t already nauseous with anxiety of flying in the titanic ships. The ships themselves creaked along, carried by endless rails and clockwork throughout the large, open airway. The glass domed and dominated the swarm of passengers making their way to their respective vessels. The traveling clouds above, bone white yet speckled with sun-gold, could be seen through the translucent ceilings and past the immaculate metal bars holding them in place.

  Ma’at wondered just how such a precarious and fragile structure maintained its strength during the heavy storms brought to the city every now and then, but with no one around to answer it, she held it close until it vanished from her mind.

  The trio made their way as everyone else did. Suits and ties. Scrappy folk like Ma’at. Odd ones like Sato. They all rushed through their vision in a haze of bumbling bodies, unfocused and virtually identical to one another as the gathering pushed on to a massive clockwork bridge connecting to the main flight rail.

  “You’re sure this is the right way?” Ma’at panted, one hand on her holster-like sheathe as she speedwalked with her compatriots along the marble floor.

  “‘Course I’m sure! I triple-checked the flight plan, the tickets, everything! Even the Writer was annoyed with me.” Tien tugged at her necktie. It was too tight for running, though she made sure it wasn’t too loose so she wouldn’t lose it by accident.

  “This place is huge, isn’t it!? Am I the only one amazed by it?” Even though she was exhausted from the rush, Sato still kept her raincoat on. Perhaps she really wasn’t kidding about using her magic to keep her body temperature at an equilibrium.

  “No. I’m just not too keen on busy places,” Ma’at replied, a slight scowl on her face.

  Even so, it would have been ten times worse if they had to carry all their luggage around with them along with the running. However, thanks to Tien, space wasn’t an issue for them. Her dimensional suitcase had taken care of everything. So, in the end, only she suffered from the encumbrance.

  “Well, I’ve seen all this before. Still, you’re right. It is amazing.”

  “Oh, yeah. You came here once on a job, right? What was it…?”

  “They needed some help with repairs. One of the airships had a blown thermal-fission converter. Technicist equipment.”

  “That sounds… complicated.” Ma’at dodged a passerby.

  “It was a challenge, for sure. But it pays to know how Technicist stuff works these days.” She tapped the side of her head. “Reville has branched out compared to other cities. They use it in nearly everything.”

  The women from Vroque reached the end of the massive bridge where the crowd had gathered. All at once, everyone there assumed waiting stances and kept glancing at their pocketwatches.

  “Oh, these are…”

  “Yep. Our fellow passengers,” Tien said with a chuckle. She scanned the people around them as if she were trying to discern their identities. “They’re all pretty plain, but…” She pointed at a fancy young woman garbed in a black, frilly dress. “She looks kinda important, don’t you think?”

  “Isn’t she looking this way?” Ma’at grumbled, giving the woman a sideways glance.

  “Her eyes are… scary. Does she want something from us?” Sato gave her an awkward wave, but the woman remained motionless save for a slight grimace forming on her lips. A knowing, sadistic look. Her eyes were indeed dark and lifeless, and her skin was pale. She gave off the impression of a ghost or ghoul; a person who hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep in their life. The fancy dress she had neatly clad to her body almost seemed like some joke a friend had pulled on her, though she wore it with grace and elegance despite her off-putting demeanor.

  “Why did you have to wave?” Ma’at sighed. “Now she’s coming over.”

  She was correct. The lady in the frilly black dress made her way over to them. Escorting her, though it would be more accurate to say that she was escorting them, was an animalistic trio. Three bulky, towering men clad in furred garments and wearing lightless masks matched her gait and followed behind her. Giant serrated blades clinked on their backs as they took long, lengthy steps forward. Endless scars marred their pale white skin where it could be seen on their bodies. Draig came to Ma’at’s mind immediately. Similar builds, similar indelible marks on their bodies, though their faces were obscured by those strange masks. Only the blue-white shine of their eyes peered through the slits, like moonlight reflected across a steel blade.

  The fancy young woman strode up to the Vroque trio, then stopped abruptly and stared at each of their faces for a long while in silence. Her eyes were truly strange, like something alien had taken over her body. Her pupils and corneas were completely bathed in black like those of a shark, save for the white of her scleras. It truly made them feel as though she were a predator staring down her prey before pouncing on them and ripping them apart. “Beatrice… Blackthorn.” Her voice was light but powerful. It struck them to their cores, commanding them to answer without much enunciation at all.

  “Huh?” Ma’at grumbled.

  The same alien, sardonic grin formed on her lips and she stared at Ma’at with what felt like an unfathomable concoction of contempt and intrigue. “Beatrice… Blackthorn. That is my name.”

  “Beatrice… Blackthorn. Oh!” Tien exclaimed. “I’ve heard of you. Or, rather, I’ve heard of your family. Your brother is a famous mercenary, right?”

  “Heh. If you are referring to Darriel Blackthorn, he is not my brother. He is my cousin, unfortunately.”

  “Unfortunately?”

  “The entity known as Darriel Blackthorn is a regrettable defect in the long Blackthorn lineage. He scarcely deserves the name.”

  “Really? Last I heard, he was making big waves in the west. Why does your family dislike him?” Maybe he crossed them in some way, Tien thought.

  “The family does not dislike him, I do. They are neutral to his ‘success’, while I see him as a failure to the highest degree. And, no, he did not cross I nor the Blackthorn family.”

  Did… she just read my mind? No. Surely not. Tien, feeling mildly uncomfortable, stuck her hands in her pockets and felt the soothing texture of the airship ticket therein.

  Beatrice smiled wryly. Another knowing look. It was as if she knew everything. “Be at ease, Tien. I cannot read your mind. Opting thoughts as a librarian plucks a book from a shelf is beneath me. It is rude all the more; I’ve always loathed that particular magic, and so does my family.” She narrowed her doll-like eyes. “So much so that we publicly execute anyone who displays the ability. It is a sin. Thoughts are made to be a treasure coveted only by oneself, never to be purloined by petty mages. I would sooner rend any thought-scrying wizard apart, bleed him dry with crystallized thorns, than allow my beautiful world to be tarnished by another’s gaze.”

  The absurdity of the woman’s remarks wasn’t lost on them, especially not to Tien. Perhaps the way the conversation had carried out was ultimately just a coincidence? It seemed unbelievable, while, at the same time, Beatrice’s sudden exclamation of hatred for the art of reading thoughts also seemed quite contrived. It was all very strange.

  Luckily, Sato chimed in with another question, changing the subject. “Wow. A last name, hm? Is it true only the oldest and richest families have those?”

  Beatrice turned to Sato. “It is. Last names are normally only given to those who have accomplished memorable feats. Otherwise, they are fated to vanish with the wind of abandon. Slantwise, there are some isles across the sea that do not follow this tradition. That is why…” She stopped herself short and stared into space for some time, oblivious to the outside world for but a moment, then came back to herself a second thereafter. She lightly shook her head, her rolling raven-black hair moving a tad. The feathers in her gaudy hat wavered in the wind. “No. Nothing of importance to you three.”

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  Ma’at’s patience with the odd lady had long run dry. Seeking the most meager of silences to interject, she brought the conversation back to its roots. “Why are you talking to us in the first place? We don’t have anything to do with the upper class.”

  “Heh. Be that as it may, the grades dictated in Reville are biased and without foundation. For example, I am graded as Class A. To give a more accurate view of the classification, Reville has graded what rare dragons have attacked the city as Class A as well.”

  A shudder ran down their spines.

  “You’re saying… that you’re on the level of a dragon?” Sato asked.

  “No,” Beatrice clarified. “In Reville’s flawed view, I am. But one must live outside the limitations of their government and its ill-informed ideas. I am simply saying that the way in which the city views you does not shape your potential. I came to talk to you because you seemed as though you hold within yourselves a growing potential, not because this silly fool waved at me.”

  Sato looked away, slightly pouting.

  “In other words, you’re interested in us?” Tien inquired, cocking her head to the side.

  Beatrice Blackthorn nodded, then her eyes suddenly widened as if she had remembered something. “Ah, how uncouth of me. Allow me to introduce the Wolves of Relkry. They are accompanying me on this fine voyage across the sky.” With the same wry grin, she shuffled to the right and outstretched her arms to give the stage to the stoic warriors who had otherwise been completely quiet the whole time.

  “Hmph. It is an honor to meet those of whom Miss Blackthorn has taken a liking to. I am Noth, a Wolf of Relkry, and these are my brothers. We bid you safe travel.” The Frostlander of high stature bowed his head in greeting, and the other two echoed his movements shortly after.

  “A true Frostlander from Mount Relkry. The honor is mine.” Ma’at bowed to him in the same manner. It was the only thing to do when one is met with brave warriors who have been fighting since birth. The title of Wolves was not inaccurate; the men of the north had been through the worst nature could throw at them and survived. Better yet, they had tamed the savage lands for themselves, making loyal hounds out of the dangerous ice vax that prowled the boreal forests and cliffs.

  “Hold on… didn’t that redhead mention the name Beatrice?” Sato spoke to Ma’at.

  “The cat lady?”

  “Yes, the one you thought was a child. You still owe me for losing that bet, by the way.”

  “I didn’t think she was a child! On the contract, she specifically said that the reward was her life savings. 14 Kin. Who wouldn’t think that a kid was the client?”

  Tien suddenly smacked Sato upside the head. “Stop teasing Ma’at.” She gave her a look full of ire, though not purely malicious. Ire that a mother would give her child while scolding them. “That is weird, though. Didn’t you say that she was rich? Why would she lie about that?”

  “Veronica… Lisraan.” Beatrice spoke up in her paradoxical demure tone of voice. “That woman hates every fiber of my being with the whole of her heart.”

  “So she was talking about you. Why does she hate you? She seemed like an amiable person.”

  “Veronica Lisraan is a quixotic mess of a creature wrapped in silk and affluence. It is no wonder she despises me when I do not pull any punches. I am reality, and she despises reality. She ‘won’t stand for my flimflam’, as she put it. She thinks all of my words are nothing more than an exercise in floccinaucinihilipilification.”

  “F-Flocci… nauci… what?” Ma’at’s confusion was plain on her face. She gawked at Beatrice as if she had just spat on her.

  “I would imagine she purposefully lied and acted like a child in order to attract the kind of people she was looking for.”

  “Looking for?” Tien brushed hair out of her face as the wind picked up.

  Beatrice grinned devilishly. “Heh. It seems her ploy worked. I’m sure she sees all of this as some kind of serendipity. Oh, well. She knows better than anyone that the world doesn’t work like that. Deep inside, she knows.” The void of her pupils seemed to enlarge. “I cannot wait for the day that she is overwhelmed by it. I wonder if she’ll scream… I wonder if she’ll beg me for help… Hehe.”

  Before they could ask what she meant, the deafening rumble of the tracks sounded across the platform. It drew their gaze to the far end of the rail, in which an airship was rolling down and slowing to a crawl as it approached them. The track grinded and halted, and there the prized airship (according to the Writer) appeared before its passengers in all of its glory.

  The hull was crafted from dark mahogany wood reinforced with gleaming copper and riveted iron, every bolt a testament to both craftsmanship and necessity. Intricate filigree wrapped the railings and gangways, curling like ivy in gold and brass. Enormous mechanical wings extended from its sides like fins of the long-forgotten Zudaphon skywhale, adjusting gently to maintain balance. Steam vents hissed rhythmically along the underbelly where a network of gears, pistons, and glowing core chambers churned with life. The ship smelled of engine oil, ozone, and distant incense, a strange mix of the industrial fumes and the mystical aroma of Tranquility. A crew of deckhands in worn, brown overalls scuttled along the deck, tightening ropes and checking stabilizers mounted near the helm. The ship’s figurehead, a silver dragon with noctite eyes, gleamed under the bursting blue sky as if peering longingly toward the horizon with quiet anticipation.

  As they turned their heads to speak with Beatrice again, her and her escorts had already left. They had returned to where they stood a moment before, waiting to enter the vessel just like everyone else.

  “There she is. The Cloudstriker!” Tien announced. “The finest airship in Reville. Well, second finest in history. This is technically a recreation of the first.”

  “What happened to the first one? Or should I not ask that?” Ma’at chuckled, though a bit of fear seeped into her voice.

  “On her maiden voyage, the original Cloudstriker was attacked by sky pirates. At least, that’s what the Writer told me.” Tien moved the arm carrying her suitcase, attempting to loosen her joints. The weight was becoming quite cumbersome after standing idly for so long.

  Ma’at raised an eyebrow, looking at Tien in obvious disbelief. “Sky pirates? Are you sure the Writer wasn’t smoking any violet flowers?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Not much is known about the incident, but there were some survivors who said they’d been boarded. That’s all I know.”

  “Sky pirates…” Ma’at shook her head. “You really shouldn’t believe everything the Writer says, you know. It’s true, sometimes his wild ramblings end up being right, but sometimes they don’t. I’ve known him longer than you. Trust me, learn to doubt the things he says.”

  “There’s a method to his madness, Ma’at. You should know that. Actually, that’s something we need to talk about. This job we’re on is actually a collection of jobs. This flight takes us around the world in careful order for a reason. I think he’s… looking for something.”

  “The Writer? No. Looking for money, probably. Or more trinkets to play around with.”

  “I’m serious,” Tien retorted. Her blue eyes matched the sky. She let out a little sigh, then gave her friend a half-hearted smile. “Well, either way, I guess we’ll figure it out soon enough.”

  The boarding ramp lowered with a creak and a clunk, extending down to the marble platform where the crowd of passengers waited. Above, the Cloudstriker groaned softly as if eager to rise, its shadow stretching over the glass archways like the wings of an ancient and powerful wyvern.

  One by one, everyone took turns walking along the steel ramp, admiring the heights around them as they did so. They gave their tickets to a man at the top, then stepped inside the vessel at last.

  Immaculate design and craftsmanship met them as they walked in. Elaborate halls led to the central core of the ship. There was a bar on the right side, a wide multi-paned window on the left, twin staircases leading upwards to the higher floors, and a center staircase that led into the dining area. The dining area itself was just as exquisite; tables upon tables upon tables lined the oval room, a cookery emitting wonderful smells was set in the middle of it all, and it doubled as the liftoff cabin. The actual passenger cabins weren’t open yet, though they were all on the highest floor ready for when the airship had actually lifted off and up into the sky.

  “All aboard, now. All aboard! If you’ve given the fine gentleman your ticket, then step into the dining cabin and secure yourselves to a seat promptly. The captain is preparing to begin the departure procedures.” A man in neat attire waved with white-gloved hands over to where the staircase led down to the flight chairs.

  “I guess we better get down there and get ready to fly.” Tien led Ma’at and Sato down to their respective seats. The chairs were inlaid with a soft, cushiony fabric and were built using beautiful copper, steel, and wood just as the outside was.

  As everyone made their way into the vessel and did the same, the airship began to shake and rumble. Faint sigils on the chairs blinked to life, and with them, the ones sat upon them felt a pull akin to gravity. It seemed as though instead of seatbelts, the chairs aboard the Cloudstriker used a weak form of magic to keep passengers in their seats until the ship had come to an acceptable altitude. All were locked down and restrained with no other choice but to sit and wait for the ship’s eventual ascent.

  The smell of gas and ozone set their senses ablaze once more, and with it, they finally began to move. The cacophony of hundreds of mechanical parts moving and working together reverberated throughout the ship as the rail took them backward from where it had come to the platform.

  “Why are we going backwards?” Ma’at attempted to turn around and look behind herself, but the restraints were much too strong.

  Tien laughed to herself. “You’ll see.”

  Just as abruptly as it had started moving, after a couple minutes, the airship shook and grinded to a halt. Then, an ear-piercing sound rang out from somewhere. Somewhere below. The rail machinery ahead was spinning alarmingly fast, and it was quickly spreading down the line toward the ship. Once it came to them, the vessel came to life again and launched forward at a blistering speed as if it were a common sailboat given a huge gust of wind. They moved faster and faster until a peculiarity came into view.

  “The rail!” Ma’at shouted. “It’s broken…!”

  Tien laughed her off dismissively, waiting for the ship to reach the end of the line.

  Ma’at wasn’t entirely wrong. The rail ended in a ramp as if it were broken. The ship turned upward as it sped along the track and came to the end of the ever-extending rail. Like a staircase to heaven, the line shot up and up but did not come down. Finally, the ship reached the finale and flew off into the magnanimous grasp of the cloudless expanse.

  A second passed.

  Then another.

  Then another, then silence took hold. A pit welled up in Ma’at’s stomach. A dread bloomed in her mind, begetting fright where there shouldn’t have been. As she started to turn white with mortal fear, her terror was dashed aside.

  They weren’t falling at all. In fact, they were flying. Furthermore, they were ascending and lifting into the calming cosmos without a hitch. Thus, the Cloudstriker rose into the grand blue sky and the Vroque trio began their aerial odyssey promptly.