Unlit darkness gave way to the light of civilization as we reached the outskirts of the edge city, Rhl.

A paltry twelve miles separate the rapidly rising base of the Caledon mountains and the edge of the continent. It’s impressive that a city as big and cramped as Rhl can even have an airbase. But being on a nearly perpendicular line to Varecia, Rhl also serves as a line of defense for the capital against airship attacks from Sarlain. During the war twenty years ago, airships made it as far as Rhl before they were repelled back. Even now in peacetime, this is still a well-defended city.

On the flight here I had dropped back a few times when the Daemon powered on its searchlights, scanning the ground below in a futile attempt to locate me. I’m unsure why they’re looking for me in the first place; the Blue Daemon is a luxury passenger ship used by the royal family, not some heavily armed warship that gets sent into battle.

Battle, you say? Oh, Yes. Dragons have been known to attack airships — ones that approach their home on the Northern Continent are accosted by at least one angry Dragon. The infamous McKerras expedition to explore the Northern Continent by a flotilla of fast airships failed when the lead vessel was torn apart by a group of Lithans. There are warships out tonight because mom expects me to be angry, too.

So, why would you send a passenger vessel with limited defensive capabilities to look for a Dragon? Maximilian must be desperate to find me. Or mom’s desperate, and he’s just following orders.

Despite falling back, it wasn’t hard to keep track of the ship. For one thing, airships are notoriously slow in flight and even slower to maneuver. A course correction would have taken much longer than any of their vain scans to locate me. But even if the ships were faster and Maki wasn’t rising, I could still easily track it by the exhaust plume of the steam rotors.

It’s funny, I never used to mind the smell of steam engines quietly plunking along in operation. Honestly, there’s something admirable about a well-maintained steam generator and the smells it gives off. But ever since I took this form my sense of smell has been acutely enhanced, and certain things smell completely different. An airship in operation seems to be one of them.

And boy howdy, let me tell you: It’s revolting!

Acrid and sulfurous, trailing close behind the Blue Daemon isn’t possible; they’d be able to locate me by the sound of my hacking coughs alone. It’s not quite, ‘vomit in my own mouth’ bad, but let’s just say I understand now why Lithans are so keen to tear apart our airships when we invade their territory.

Mercifully, I won’t have to deal with it much longer. A loud clunking from the ship signals the engagement of the vertical rotors, and the tail rotors slow to drop their forward momentum. City lights reflect off the bilge, growing and spreading in oblong shapes as the Daemon begins its descent into the airfield.

Peering down through the darkness I see airships parked for the night and plenty of open masts that could dock more. I suppose the open spaces were occupied by the ships that flew over the mountains to Varecia. That’s good news for me, as I should have plenty of space to land alongside the ship.

I keep my distance from the Daemon and wait patiently while it descends, hovering above a darkened greenbelt. It would be easier to fly around in circles, riding the occasional uplift of warm air instead of sitting here and waiting. But there’s sure to be airwomen on the ground to help guide the Daemon to its mooring ma—

FWOOM!

Night transitions to day in an instant, turning my whole world brilliant white.

“Agh!!”

I slam eyes my shut and try to move my head back into the night, but it’s no use. Everywhere I turn is enveloped in overpowering bright light. I gain altitude and squint, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the sudden change in brightness. Through it, I can make out the light’s origin: A hangar at the edge of the airfield. It’s one of the searchlights they used during the war to watch for enemy airships. They must have seen me hovering in the dark!

I see light reflecting off the bottom of my wings as they flap, indicating another source from a different direction behind me. Then another from my side. Another from the front. One by one, the network of searchlights in the region activate and train their beams on me.

Ahead of me the Blue Daemon groans as its rear propellers restart to make an emergency course correction and escape the scene as fast as possible. Off in the distance, air raid sirens are spinning up, screeching a warning to the city to take cover.

This is bad! Like, really bad! Not only have I been found out, but Duncan’s ship is fleeing the scene! Worse still, the searchlights and air raid sirens mean they’ve activated the city’s defenses against enemy airships. The only part of the network that hasn’t been deployed yet is the anti-airship mortars!

Damn it, I have no other choice! I’m going to have to do this without Duncan!

Throwing caution to the wind, I pull my wings back and fall into a steep dive towards the ground, leaving the searchlights trailing behind me. When the trees below get close I pull up, flying low in the direction of the hangar where the first searchlight was. I know there are animals there manning the light, so that’s where I’ll make my stand.

I weave through the airfield, flying over the tops of ships to avoid the beams of light wildly searching the skies above to relocate me. The hangar in front of me starts to come into focus — a searchlight nest is perched on top of the building near the enormous hangar doors that allow the airships to enter and exit. Close by on the ground, a group of animals is gathered. They see my approach and scatter, making a run for the safety of the building

I glide up and flap my wings hard to land, touching the ground clumsily on my front legs first, but planting the back ones to achieve a more dignified landing. A Sifaka Lemur in an airwoman’s uniform is tripped up by the gusts from my huge wings and tumbles to the ground. A Yellow-Throat notices their fall and hollers something to them, turning on their heels to help.

Now’s my chance!

“STOP!! Please, I order you to stop!! It’s me, Princess Asha!!”

The Sifaka cowers and screams, shielding her head like she didn’t even hear me. Are the sirens too loud? I dip my head to get closer. “Please, something terrible has happened! This is all a misunderstanding!”

The Yellow-Throat approaches the Sifaka and thrusts her to her feet. “Frus ot!! Ce jena va j’agh la zon nawpet!”

Huh?

What was that?

Whatever the Yellow-Throat just said, it seems to have made the Sifaka even more distraught. She’s staring at me with discs for eyes, the same morbid terror I saw in Starla’s face before I took her life. The Sifaka turns to the Yellow-Throat and wails, “Je na mattess, so’v peoyi va ayll cy!!”

They’re… they’re not speaking the Goddess language, are they? I’ve never heard the language they’re speaking. Why would they be talking in a different language? What is going on?!

“Can’t you understand what I’m saying!? Don’t you speak the Goddess language?!”

The Sifaka yowls, failing to understand me a third time. The yellow throat drags her by her feet a few paces before she finally breaks free of her psychosis and takes off running towards the entrance of the hangar.

These animals have no idea what I’m saying to them, and I have no idea what they’re saying to each other. How can a language barrier exist between us? In the two countries where Sifaka Lemurs hail from — Ellyntide and Sarlain, — the Goddess language is the official spoken language. There’s no way a Sifaka living in Ellyntide wouldn’t understand what I’m saying to them.

And yet, the terror I saw in her eyes… nothing I said made sense to her. The only thing she heard was the braying of a feral monster ready to end her life.

This isn’t possible. This can’t be possible. How can I hear myself speaking the Goddess language, the language of Lemurs, and fail to be understood? How can animals that should be speaking the Goddess language sound like a foreign dialect to me?

Errant searchlight glimmers from a pair of eyes on top of the hangar, stealing my attention. A Ruffy near the searchlight ducks from sight behind a large, olive-colored box. The crew manning the light must have turned it off and taken cover when I landed.

I fold my wings to appear less aggressive and position my head near the ledge of the roof so I can be heard in a quieter, more civilized voice. “Ruffy, can you understand what I’m saying? Please, respond to me if you can. I’m your Princess, I would never harm you.”

There’s no response, only the twitching of tails protruding from the side of the box.

They can’t understand a word I’m saying. I’m no longer speaking the Goddess language.

How can this be possible? How can I hear the words in my voice, feel the reverberations in my chest, construct the words with my mouth, but still have it be interpreted as something completely different?

A caterwaul erupts behind me. I turn to see a group of animals sprinting down the field from the north with their weapons drawn at the ready. Two in the rear trail slightly behind the others, encumbered by large metal apparatuses strapped to their backs with tubes protruding from the sides. There’s no mistaking what those are: the steam generators of a portable steam gun.

My stomach drops and it feels like I could topple over sideways. My own citizens, ones I’ll someday swear to govern and protect, raising weapons in anger against me. My mission to get them to recognize me as the Princess has utterly failed. I’ve failed. And now, I must retreat from this place.

It’s not that I couldn’t defend myself against them, of course. Even armed with steam weapons, these animals pose little threat to me. No, the problem is who I’m up against. Even as an act of self-defense, a Princess fighting against her own citizens is unconscionable. Enough lives have already been lost today because of me, I will not be a Princess with the blood of her citizens on her hands.

They may not know the monster before them is their Princess, but someday they will. Someday I will find a way to reverse this curse that’s happened to me. And when that day comes, will I be able to look their families in the eyes and tell them I took the lives of their daughters and sons?

I open my wings and test the wind; a stiff, autumnal breeze from the north buffets the bottom of my feathers. Looks like I’m riding it south out of the city.

I turn to the animals rushing towards me, still shouting incomprehensibly. The language barrier may prevent them from understanding what I’m about to say, but I still feel compelled to a parting message. Holding back tears, I manage to choke out,

“Goodbye.”

I thrust into the sky, catching the chilled northern wind, and climb in altitude until I’m gliding through the air at the same height I was before. The searchlights reattach their beams before breaking off, one by one, as I fly further and further south, away from the city lights and screaming sirens, until there’s nothing but me and the lonely, unlit unknown.