Chapter 6

The Rutheon. At last.

The main harbour is an expansive wooden erection with two tiers. The bottom is designed for regular ships. This tier is a robust wooden structure capable of supporting fleets of merchant boats and cargo vessels. It features mooring posts, loading cranes, and storage areas for goods.

The top tier is reserved for airships, the upper level is an elevated platform with specialized docking facilities. This tier is constructed to withstand the weight and unique docking requirements of airships.

The Stormhawk is parked and hoisted up by a series of mechanical appendages on each side. These appendages are large, retractable arms that extend out to secure the airship in place. They are equipped with clamps and support structures to hold the airship steady during docking and undocking.

The hoisting system, a combination of winches and pulleys, operated by powerful machinery to lift and lower all airships. This system is designed to handle the delicate process of docking airships without causing damage to their hulls. The tall support towers are positioned at intervals along the top tier to provide additional support and stability. These towers house the machinery for the docking appendages and hoisting mechanisms.

"Lady Aurora," Devwar beckons. "The imperial carriage awaits you."

I nod and haul myself forward, descending the wooden steps; it curves then rounds at the end. 

"Aurora!"

I swivel around. A gaunt force collides into me, and Mackie's bony arms are tight around my waist. I hold on to him strongly, my cheek pressed down on the little blue hat.

"Don't go," he begs. "Who else will tell my scary stories again?"

A laugh bursts from me, and my grip tightens. "They were not scary."

"They all died at the end."

I release him, untangling his arms. I lower myself so that I am face to face with him. His eyes elude mine with diligence as I playfully sway my head from side to side in search of his gaze. 

"Look at me," I instruct.

He complies, and his glossy eyes look into mine.

"You were fine before me, and you'll be fine after. When I was your age, I used to fear the night because that's when I knew my nightmares would come. And let me share my counsel, my secret that helps me overcome my fears." I place a hand on his small shoulder. "The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear. Because there is no courage without fear. As you are here with your brother to help your family. That is the bravest thing I have ever seen."

I squeeze his shoulder. My finger gives a quick brush against his cheek before I straighten my spine. Mackie's lips explode into a grin, and he steps forward to latch onto my waist again. He holds on for a few moments longer.

"C'mon Mack, let Lady Aurora go," Schwick scolds on approach. "Captain will cut off ye hands if he saw you touchin her."

"If you're jealous, just say so," I say, rubbing circles on his back.

Mackie finally releases me and steps aside, adjusting his hat.

I look up at Schwick, beaming a smile. "Farewell for now. It was a blessing to know you and your brother. I hope your fortunes change soon."

Schwick smiles shyly and teases the collar of his jacket. "I wish you well in the Trials. I know it won't help much with me sayin it. But I hope you win," he says and turns his face to the ground. 

"Thank you, Schwick, and farewell to you both."

I glance at both of them, twirling back around. I make my way down. 

I see the captain at the bottom, his back towards me, coat billowing. I join his side.

"If you ever find yourself in need of employment. There will always be a place amidst my crew."

I snort a wry laugh.

"This brooks no mirthful jest when my offer comes with sincerity."

"I know," I say casually. "But I'm already spoken for. My service belongs to another."

I can feel his eyes on me, but my eyes are transfixed on the imperial carriage a few meters from where I stand. Horse-drawn with four Arabian stallions to lead the ride. It has a semi-rectangular shape with a long aspect. The frame and doors are all waist high, with broad window holes and no draperies to offer privacy. The exterior coat is a plush crimson velvet covering with golden designs that fleck the body, eddying upwards. Even the rooftop is more like an awning, with the same blood-red furry material and identical pure gold motifs.

The coachman stands at the door dressed in a maroon attire with a matching cowl over his shoulders. And a floppy, gaudy hat that shields his eyes.

The top tier is a barrel-styled construction with two ports of entry that airships can sweep into. Shadowed by the large vessels in the airdock and by the covering of the structure itself. There is only one way off the top pier and into the City of Old. The first metropolis built in Urium, ironically the oldest, but it is the most advanced.

Captain Devwar turns to me and bows his head. "I wish upon your journey glad tithings."

"And I wish you'd cease such futile formalities."

He lifts his head.

I stride over to the carriage. I cast a glance back at the Stormhawk. Schwick and little Mackie stand behind the wooden railing, waving their arms at me wildly. I throw a hand up in return with equal enthusiasm.

The coachman opens the door for me and bows. I step inside to seat myself on the crimson cushions. Provided with a full view of everything beyond and everyone has a full view of me. I wipe my clammy hands down the plush bench beneath me. It's so strange to be so far from home. I have completed consignments afar many times before, but I always knew I would return home to my kin. My future this time holds no such promise.

The carriage lurches, a cacophony of hooves echoing in the air. We speed past Captain Devwar, his stern gaze momentarily meeting mine, before the carriage surges forward, the rhythmic pounding of hooves marking our swift passage. Through fleeting glimpses, I see other airships, majestic and imposing, unloading their burdens of cargo. The carriage veers sharply to the right, weaving its way up a steep incline toward the gaping, shadowy entrance of a tall, dual-lane tunnel, its dark mouth looming ominously ahead.

Soon we are consumed by darkness.

The only thing I can hear is the steady, collective clops of hooves and the hollow ground that deepens the echo, creating the illusion that they are more horses than there are. Meters ahead, a brilliant light extends its phantasmal hand, offering an escape. The light pulses, growing until it devours us whole. The carriage peels out from the gloom and onto a paved road and what I see renders me awe-stricken.

A road, not paved with ordinary stone, but with slabs of Kashar white granite. This exquisite path shimmers under the sunlight, each granite piece glistening like a myriad of tiny diamonds. The road stretches ahead, inviting and majestic, with its surface reflecting the golden rays in a dazzling display of natural artistry.

Flanking this road are buildings with exteriors sheathed in shining metal, their surfaces smooth and reflective like polished mirrors. These structures are interspersed with sparkling arcs of glass, catching the light and scattering it in prismatic bursts, creating a kaleidoscope of colours that dance across the facades.

Rising above the cityscape are spires of aluminium, almost translucent, reaching towards the heavens with an ethereal grace. These spires seem to pierce the sky, their slender forms glinting in the sun, like needles threading through the blue fabric of the atmosphere.

Arched structures dome over the city like hoops, their rounded forms resembling the protective embrace of giant arms. These arches, elegant and robust, frame the city in a gentle curve, as if cradling it in a loving, protective hold.

My gaze levels to other carriages and horses. Most of the city-goers are clothed in white, gold, and beige attires that contribute to the impeccable scene of the city. Which makes my advent even more obvious. A moving red dot winding through the masses of white. Due to all the carts and carriages beyond that clog up the road, only lengthening my apprehension.

 The storm had wasted two days. Despite that, I am still on time; I believe. Today must be the second equinox, so it's either that the other candidates are there already or, like me, are also on their way. Armathis is far east, but the Emikrol Empire sidles my province as it sits on the very edge of the map. So perhaps Vince Esputo Ethane and I will be unfortunate companions in our belatedness.

Eventually, we depart from the gleaming city, our path leading us further north. The carriage rolls smoothly over, leaving behind the shimmering spires and domes that cradle the impeccable landscape. As we travel, the scenery begins to change, and we approach the foot of a mountainous hill, majestic and imposing.

The carriage starts its ascent, trailing along the mountain's waist, winding upwards, each turn revealing new vistas of breathtaking beauty. Lush greenery carpets the slopes, dotted with wildflowers that add splashes of vibrant colour to the verdant expanse.

Higher and higher we climb, the world below shrinking into a patchwork quilt of fields and forests. The sun casts a golden hue over the landscape, its rays piercing through the canopy and creating dappled patterns on the road. The journey is a symphony of sights and sounds, a harmonious blend of nature's finest elements.

Suddenly, as we round the last bend, the grandest edifice I have ever seen rises from the horizon.

I'm here.