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Chapter 5:

Oh, Ophidia

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The same blue-green hue lingered, lightening slightly by the sun's morning rays. A chariot descended slowly, vanishing behind the city's sprawling buildings. It would take off again in less than an hour. That hour couldn't come soon enough for Farah. She stood before the Ahrman, sword drawn.

It would be easier to slay him. Half of her problems would be over at the least. He knows too much and keeping him invisible for the six-hour trip would be taxing. She allowed the thought to drift from her mind and slit the ropes that bound him instead.

“I'm duty-bound to bring you in alive, but if you force my hand...” Farah raised her left fist and opened it, small sparks of lightning jumped from her fingers. “I will use this.” The Ahrman brushed off her show of power with a sinister smirk.

“Why'd you cut him loose?” asked Aiden.

“It's easier to avoid questions this way.”

“Can't you just turn him invisible?”

“It will surely wear off by the time we arrive at our destination.”

“I'd feel better if we just left him tied up in here.”

“Nonsense. Now come. We must be leaving.”

The streets were as packed as the night they arrived, maybe more so. Perhaps one of these days Aiden would shed his love for quaint villages. Fighting through the never-ending crowd, Aiden hustled to keep up with Farah and her prisoner. He couldn't afford to lose sight of her. The thought of being alone in Nabiil didn't sit well in his young mind, not after the revelation Farah shared with him.

He pulled his cap down over his ears and ran to her side. He took her hand as they entered the departure station. It was less congested inside, but Farah was still in a hurry. As she purchased their tickets, the Ahrman leaned against the counter and smirked. “Make sure I get a window seat.”

“Our seating arrangement is the least of your concerns,” Farah retorted.

“We'll see, now, won't we?”

“Let's get going,” Farah said, urging him along with a gentle nudge.

Taking the chariot wasn't as exciting as it used to be; not with the Ahrman. He didn't behave like someone on his way to prison or wherever Farah was taking him. Farah didn't seem concerned with his confidence. At least she hadn't shown it yet. As they approached the chariot its rear propellers began to turn. It was the size of two and a half sea schooners, six propellers on its deck, and two big ones in the rear. They chopped the air, making it nearly impossible to hear the ticket collector as he welcomed them aboard. Aiden slowed his pace as they stepped inside, almost as if his body knew it was about to leave solid ground for the first time.

Looking over the other passengers, none of them seemed to share his nervousness. “How long is this flight?” he asked.

“Six hours,” Farah responded. She urged the Ahrman to seat himself by the window.

“You listened,” the Ahrman said. “There's hope for you yet.”

“Spare me, Ahrman.”

Six hours? Aiden held tight to the leather seat cushion as the chariot rattled and rose. Living his childhood dream of riding one of these things wasn't as fun as he imagined. Higher and higher it climbed. His heart drummed as the ship increased speed. He forced his gaze to stay low, fighting the desire to look over the Ahrman's shoulder. How far off the ground were they now? He didn't dare look out the window.

The rumble of the propellers, the shearing wind; they all combined into a nauseating melody. Breathing deeply, Aiden struggled to keep his hands from shaking. The ship had left the security of land. It had enough propellers to keep it afloat, but what happens when one of them fails? What happens if they fall out of the sky?

He felt another hand on his and looked up. Farah gave him a reassuring smile. Aiden attempted a confident smile of his own. “Are we there yet?”

Soon, without warning, the chariot shook violently, jolting Aiden from his seat. On his hands and knees, he could feel the floor rattling. We're going to crash!

Farah helped him to his feet. “Aiden, are you all right?”

Aiden fixed his lips to speak, but as he peered over Farah's shoulder every muscle in his body seemed to freeze. Farah followed his stunned gaze and caught a glimpse of it. A fireball slammed into the chariot, cutting a path through the hull.

Reacting swiftly and instinctively, Farah grabbed Aiden and jumped out of its path. Screams filled their ears as the ship staggered. Leading Aiden by the hand, Farah ignored the cries and flames as she rushed to the rear of the ship. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for the Ahrman, but the fire and smoke-shrouded her view.

“Where are we going?” Aiden asked. “The chariot is on fire!”

Farah climbed up a ladder. “We're going to have to ride it down, Aiden!”

“And then what?”

“We jump!”

Farah forced open an emergency hatch and jumped down. “You first. I'll be right behind you.”

Aiden swallowed his anxiety and scaled the ladder. Farah stood watch as he reached the top. But as she motioned to climb up someone forced her to the floor. “Going somewhere?” the Ahrman remarked.

He picked her up by her collar and threw her back toward the aircraft's cabin. As she hit the floor Farah quickly spun to her feet, avoiding a row of flames. The Ahrman pulled the emergency hatch shut, sealing it tightly.

“Looks like we're going down with the ship,” he smirked.

“Maybe you are,” Farah said, lightning coursing through her fingers. She threw a small ball of energy at the Ahrman. She wasn't surprised when he dodged it. The attack gave her the few seconds she needed to move in for a killing strike. But the Arman was fast, abhorrently so. He unsheathed thin daggers hidden in his sleeves, catching Farah's blade as it came down on him.

Swords crossed, the Ahrman kicked Farah back. The ship jolted violently, causing the two to stagger briefly. “You know I'll survive this crash, even if it bursts into a beautiful ball of inferno. You and the Afreet, on the other hand, won’t be so lucky.”

Farah grimaced. She had to join Aiden, soon.

“Farah?” Aiden called, struggling to pull the hatch open. He couldn't understand. It was sealed shut. Why would Farah leave him? Something had to be wrong. The ship was descending fast, yet steady. The captain must still be in control, but for how long? Three out of the four propellers were in flames, smoke bellowed out of the cabin. The last thing Aiden wanted was for something else to go wrong.

What could have caused all of this?

A huge shadow passed over the aircraft. Aiden peered up, shielding sunlight from his eyes with his hands. She noted a shadow passing overhead. He gasped at the sight of a massive winged serpent, hovering above him. Bright red flames whipped around the beast's mouth.

An ophidia!

A winged fire breathing serpent carved a crooked path through the air. It had to be hundreds of meters from head to tail. Much longer than the chariot. Aiden gasped. He once thought they were just stories, tall tales from the tongues of old warriors, and fables from mothers who sought to scare bad children. They ate anything they could find, even each other. But weren't they indigenous to fire mountains? Why was it attacking a chariot over the Plains of Hadhayosh?

Aiden hustled to his feet, but the aircraft's sudden shifts hampered his flight. He looked back just as the ophidia spat out a large ball of fire. It exploded on impact, hurling off his feet and into the air. He tumbled and rolled over the side of the craft, grasping at anything to stop his fall. His hands found a piece of metal and held on tight.

The ophidia, it's – it's trying to kill me. It's after me.

Farah's words echoed in his mind. He was an Afreet; a destroyer and creator of Rebirths. People would feel threatened by him and want to kill him. They'd kill anyone who got in their way. Quinn was the first to die because of him.

Hair whipping in his face, Aiden peered downward. A river of trees was beneath them, rising fast as the craft fell. Even if the captain managed to land safely, even if there were survivors, danger still circled overhead. Closing his eyes, Aiden evoked the memory of his father one more time. Tears streamed down his cheek as he let go of the chariot.

I'm sorry, Quinn.