Zara brought down the Claw first, those that had traveled with him into the unforgiving Scorched Expanse and had fought their way across its sands. They were changed now, more confident but also closer. Felix could feel it, a burgeoning sensation in the back of his Mind—bindings that only those tested in battle seemed to forge. Skein of Fate is level 47! Interesting. Like Oathbinding before it as well as Adamant Discord, Skein of Fate allowed him to sense the connections between people. Where Oathbinding had been laser focused on sensing oaths, and Adamant Discord was a potent mess of everything, Skein of Fate seemed somewhere in the middle. He had no clue what to do with it, though, and shoved the revelation aside for later. For now, there were stairs to reinforce. Stone Shaping! Rime Shaping! Green Shaping! As people started streaming down, the stairs creaked and swayed, the entire scaffolding not built for so many at once. Felix's Mana shot from his channels, a thickening liquid that shimmered in his Manasight. Dusty-brown, green-gold, and purple-white intertwined in a chaotic mix that punched into the cliff-face of Ahkestria's edge and anchored itself way, way down atop the crystalline crags below. Pillars of slick, blue-black stone rose up, forming beneath the tread of his followers as they traversed the stairs, and dragging nearly half of his considerable Mana total into its construction. But in only a handful of seconds, the scaffolding had become something more permanent...even if it wasn't all that pretty to look at. Green Shaping is level 44! Rime Shaping is level 50! Journeyman Tier! You Gain: +7 INT +7 WIL +7 DEX Gotta work on my artistry, I think, Felix mused as his people marched down the almost Brutalist structure. It was all sharp angles and squared off pillars; even the buttressed supports connecting the stairs to the cliff-face were simple and thick. At least it's sturdy. Felix took a breath as his Mana regeneration kicked in. He could feel it being drawn from the air around him, an almost-pressure at each of his Mana Gates. "Beef, you all packed?" "Yeah. Moved all my stuff down here when we moved the boats from the skydocks down to the dock-docks." Beef paused, scratching his jaw. "Never said that out loud. Sounds stupid. Sea docks doesn't sound much better. Boathouse sounds fancier than it is. What's that other word? Jetta? Worf?" "Just docks is fine, I think," Felix said through a smile. He was tired and he was beyond ready to leave the city, but Beef reminded him of Earth every time he spoke. He appreciated that. "Oh, what did you want to tell me?" "Hm? Just—" Beef clenched his jaw and shuffled his feet, before tossing his head, like a real bull might have done. "Nevermind. I'll go check the boats and make sure I didn't miss any parts of the hulls." "Alright." Felix didn't have an interest in shaking out whatever was bugging the teen Minotaur, and he let him plod away as more folks began piling onto his new-built stairwell. Behind the Claw came the new recruits, at least five hundred of them by his quick estimate, each and every one wearing rudimentary or salvaged armor from the Grandmaster's estate. Felix stood aside as the first of them drew close, thinking. Zara passed him with a sedate nod, while the men and women behind her saluted fist to heart and continued onward, most of them torn between staring at him and staring at the stairwell that had formed beneath their feet. The entire structure hugged relatively tight to the cliffs, switching back and forth with wide, squared landings before ending at a series of jetties that stabbed out into the rollicking waves of the Leviathan Depths. Ten ships were arrayed below, large galleon-classed structures that Felix now doubted would hold his new soldiers, let alone the civilians and families that followed in their wake. And follow they did—at least twice as many men, women, and children toddled after his armored soldiers, and they were far less shy about gawking. At the stairs, at the ships, at the crashing waves themselves. But not Felix. Unlike the soldiers, there was a melody of fear from the adults' Spirits, and it made Felix's inside squirm. Most wouldn't even lift their gazes when they passed his standing place on the stairs, and a few even huddled their children closer, away from him. He almost had time to wonder at their reaction when he caught whispers from their number. "...keep your eyes down. Do not meet the Fiend's gaze. He is dangerous." "...killed that man. That noble, right? Ripped him apart and ate his bones in front of everyone..." "...just caught those black spears, like they were nothin'. Pulled up that sea like it was his own trained beast too. Can't trust a man so powerful." "...ain't no man. Not with claws like that, not with eyes that burn like that bleedin' storm." Felix clenched his jaw and tried to let it all wash over him. Just breathe. It's fine. The sound of the surf was loud, but not loud enough. You did what you had to do. Right? The clatter of boots against stone drew Felix's attention upward, and he saw a company of armored Yttin march behind the civilians. There were another hundred of them, each armored in sea-hued chitin and bearing their set of extra limbs folded against their backs, while long glaives were held in the crooks of their arm as they marched along. Klzix was at their head, with Fiammetta at his side, a pensive smile on his face as he met Felix halfway down. "Lord Autarch. I am sad to see you leave so swiftly, but it is remarkable what you have achieved in such a short time." The shaman gestured to everything around them, including the breakwater Beef and Felix had brute forced out of fallen crystals and conjured rock. It had been Florian's idea, and had at least cut down on some of the waves of the sea. "I am honored to stand for you while you are abroad, my Lord." "Don't worry, I'll check in regularly. My other Chancellor and I have this trick that...well, you'll see," Felix said with a smile he only half meant. Apparently Yttin senses were better than Felix assumed, because Klzix's copper eyes flashed between Felix's face and the retreating backs of the civilians. His face pinched in something close to annoyance, and the cloth-bundled appendages on his back writhed. "They do not appreciate what you have done for them. Do not blame them, Autarch. Their Minds are too consumed by dread of the unknown to be reasonable." "I don't blame them," Felix said truthfully. He didn't. They weren't wrong about what they said, what they feared. "They've been through a lot." "Do not let yourself lose sleep over it, my Lord," Fiammetta said. The Faun was dressed in an ornate, predominantly orange silk battlerobe marked with a burning blue eye across the front panel. The symbol of House Nevarre, he'd been told, established by Zara in the official records of Ahkestria. It was very similar to the symbol on the cloaks of the Fiend's Legion. "There are always those that fear that which they do not understand, and the weak cannot know the realities of the powerful." "No. They do." Felix huffed a tight breath and tore his gaze from the civilian's descending forms. "They're all too knowledgeable about the powerful and what they can do. That's why they're afraid." Felix simply had to prove he was better than the Kel'lyv and DuFont and Archons of the world. "C'mon, let's go the rest of the way down. The docks are wide enough to hold everyone." Felix didn't wait for them to follow, simply started walking. Fiammetta and Klzix did a little hop and run to catch up to him, while the rest of the Yttin followed at a steady march. Pit flew high above the city, careless of the whipping winds and crackling sky. He gloried in it, in fact, his new form reveling in the rush of energies that coursed through his flesh. Lightning thundered from on high, striking at him and siphoning away into his Mantle of Tumult that wreathed him. Mantle of Tumult is level 73! Thunderwing is level 59! The Primordial Stormwing cut through the air at incredible speeds, his shriek of joy lost to the winds of his passage. Rooftops flashed below him, the bright, crystal encrusted structures dimmer in all the gloom of the Storm Ward. People crowded the streets, rich and poor mingling as they all pushed closer to the skydocks, where a great cacophony arose as folks pressed against the chest-high wall. Pit flapped, channeling air Mana through his feathers with such great ferocity that he kicked up cloaks and hats in the throng below, until he shot out over the edge of the city itself. Thick, blue-black stairs clung to the edge, leading down to the wet expanse of stone where ships rolled in the waves. People boarded them, wobbling on deck as they hustled to and fro, so far below Pit as to seem like ants. "So many people," Pit said to himself in wonder. He had spent many days now in large cities, places so different from the forests of his home. Following Felix had given him a great many experiences with crowded spaces, and most of it had been quite uncomfortable. But now... "Now I'm small again. I...I can go anywhere." That fact pleased Pit almost as much as the evolution of his Skills and core. While he wasn't as small as he had been when Felix had first found him, the tenku was happy to be only the size of a large avum instead of an entire wagon. He'd sacrificed some of his brute force and ability to soak damage, but in return Pit had gained a great deal more speed and flexibility, not to mention his amplified magical prowess. With his smaller size, even on a boat so crowded, Pit wouldn't feel so out of place. He gave a happy little trill that was lost in the storm and flew closer. The ships grew in size as he descended in a lazy spiral, as did the people. Felix was there, a presence that Pit could find in a dark room with his eyes shut tight, and he was speaking to a large group of others. They were dressed in that odd uniform the shipbuilders wore, and at their front were the child and older child that led them. Iretus, he recalled. Florian and Meina. Pit had been putting extra effort into remembering others names now that he could speak. It was proving harder than he had anticipated. He had the Intelligence for it, but something about strangers made him bored. "...as thanks for their contribution to our efforts, we are granting House Iretus the first Storm Pass," Felix was saying. He handed something to that Klzix, a round piece of metal, and the shaman brought it before a kneeling Florian. The little boy took it reverently in his hands. "That is to be bloodbound to three captains of your choosing. It will key them to the Storm Ward, and will allow their Manaships to fly through it at will. I imagine that will help House Iretus get back on its feet." The child was dumbfounded, and Pit could sympathize. To be allowed flight again, even after being grounded by a few days by the Storm Ward? Pit would have whooped for joy had it been him. In fact he did, just a little, shrieking out to celebrate little Florian's return to the sky. Faces turned upward, and Felix grinned as Pit banked low around them, his wings and Mantle a crackling thunder around the Manaship below. "I do not know what to say," Florian stammered. He clutched the metal disc to his chest. "Thank you, Lord Autarch." "The amount of work your people put in the last day? It's been nuts. I can handle a lot, but your engineers and shipwrights kept pace despite everything I threw at them. I'm willing to pay for good work, and I imagine that Pass will pay plenty," Felix said. Klzix also spoke up. "And in recognition of your newfound mobility, we would speak more in the coming days about our plans for this city." "It would be my honor," Florian said, giving a little bow. Pit flapped his wings, sending out a shower of sparks as he flew over other ships in the fleet. Beef was leaning over the side of one, talking to a giant Multipede clinging to the hull at the water line. Zara sat on the bowsprit of another ship, her eyes trained on the horizon, while Isla lounged at her back, watching all of the ships instead. Harn and Darius hustled about, each of them yelling instructions to the soldiers about something Pit didn't care to listen to, while Alister and Atar meandered about, running their hands over the hastily crafted ships. On the last ship, Evie and Vess were chatting atop the crow's nest. They waved at Pit as he passed, and Pit chirruped happily at them. The people streamed everywhere, placing their small bundles and belongings in the various holds before wandering the wide decks. It felt like the busy marketplace in Haarwatch, all those months ago, when he'd sat in Felix's Spirit and stared out at the world. Now Humans and Orcs and Dwarves and all sorts stared and pointed at him, children laughing and running along the decks as he passed. Pit loved it all. Hollering started soon after, a joyful, boisterous noise from the ships that was soon echoed by the multitude up in Ahkestria proper. Hands waved, on ship and city streets, bidding a sudden farewell to those leaving and those staying. Sails unfurled and snapped open in the wind, lines were tightened and tied, and the distinct tang of magic began to whirl up from the ships. One by one, each of the retrofitted Manaships began to mobilize as their rudimentary Mana engines roared to life. Pit circled back, until he was at the flagship once again, and tucked his wings. He dove from the sky, flaring his wings outward only moments before he landed in a graceful clatter of paws and claws, right next to Felix on the quarterdeck. "Hey there, bud! Ready to set sail?" His Companion's face was bright and happy, an expression Pit felt was getting rarer in recent days. He chirruped his agreement, and Felix reached out to rustle between his triangular ears. "Me too. Me too." He whistled, high and piercing, louder than the roar of the storm and the engines. "Alright everyone! Weigh anchor and set sail!" And in a soft voice only Pit could hear, Felix murmured. "Let's go home."