Date: ???

Location: ???

Time: ???? Hours

Titus’s return to consciousness was only a slight improvement over the nightmares it displaced.

Cold steel flooring pressed into his shoulder blades painfully and numbed his fingers and bare toes. The inside of his mouth felt as though it had been lined with dry cotton, and a deep cough twisted like a sharp knife in his injured side, leaving him gasping in pain.

After what seemed an eternity, the pain subsided enough for him to risk sitting up. His vision swam in and out of focus as he slowly and carefully examined his surroundings. He was greeted by the inside of a dark, windowless prison cell, with Titus on the wrong side of thick floor-to-ceiling iron bar grating that bisected a small room. On Titus’s side, several sets of thick steel rings inscribed with silver runes were set into the flooring and walls – obviously intended for restraining Apt prisonors – and a tiny cot that was much too small for any normal adult was secured into the center of the wall.

On the other side of the bars sat a small wooden chair, next to which was a heavy steel-riveted door that led into and out of the room. A wrought-iron sconce set into the wall next to the door was obviously designed to hold a portable aether lamp crystal. It sat empty and dark, with the only light in the room being that which spilled through the cracks in the air grating above the door and the slight gap at the bottom of the door frame.

“Hello?” Titus croaked, his voice ragged. “Mom? Are you there?” He coughed and spit up something dark and wet. “Hello? Is someone there?” Urgent voices echoed down the hallway, but none approached him. Titus licked dry lips and tried again, his voice a little stronger. “Hello? Can anyone hear me? I want to see my mom!”

The metallic clank of heavy boots stopped outside the door to his cell, and he heard the buzz of aether followed by a hissing, burbling pop like a plunger. The door swung open and a tall yellow-marqued avian in a full suit of adamantine combat armor stepped through, his gold-feathered wings folded compactly behind him. Titus’s jaw dropped as he examined the tiny silver scale-like plate sections that covered the thin and incredibly light crystal-studded adamantine armor, gleaming like the skin of a metallic cloud dragon in the light from the hallway behind him.

Avian combat armor was known far and wide as the most powerful and durable protective gear in the empire, and adamantine armor even more so. Being roughly three to four times stronger than standard steel of equal volume but only a quarter the weight, adamantine was a miracle material whose uses were usually reserved for forging the insides of airship turbines or aether core crystal cages due to its ability to conduct aether. The forging of adamantine was a secret known only to a select few and it was rumored that only Apts of enormous skill were able to undertake the task.

The avian soldier’s armor was topped by a full-faced adamantine helmet with dark sun lenses where eye holes would have normally been located and a thick crest of bright gold avian flight feathers ran down the back of the helmet like a waterfall. The soldier briefly paused in the doorway, outlined by the white aether lamplight behind him then muttered something under his breath before reaching up to tug the helmet from his head. A thrill of cold recognition ran through Titus as he recognized the smooth dark features and double silver lieutenant’s clasps on the avian’s pointed ears.

“You’re Klaus!” he blurted. The avian said nothing but reached down to his belt to retrieve a small crystal sphere. He held a silver-gloved finger to a small copper plate set into its side, and the sphere blazed into brilliant white light. He placed the aether lamp into the sconce on the wall next to the door, then turned to face Titus.

“Where’s my mom? I want to see her.” Titus demanded and attempted to get to his feet. This was apparently a bridge too far for his abused body, and he fell heavily onto his rear, a shock of pain blazing up from his injured side. The avian lieutenant examined Titus through the bars for a moment, then sighed.

“Your mother is being held in another cell.” His smooth tenor voice seemed void of emotion. “She is uninjured, but you cannot see her.” He walked back out of the cell, then returned a moment later with a huge hunk of bread on a wooden plate and a leather flask. He crouched to hold them out close to the bars of the cage, just within Titus’s reach, but far enough away that Titus couldn’t reach him if he got any ideas. Titus’s stomach let out an uncomfortable growl, but he made no motion to take the food.

“You should eat,” said the lieutenant. “You will need your strength to face the Queen when she judges your case.” “The Queen?” he asked, stupidly. “Her Majesty has been informed of the happenings in Azure Sky City, and Captain Solguard has requested his rights to reclaim his honor” he stated tonelessly. “You and your mother will stand in judgement before Her Majesty alongside Captain Solguard.”

Titus stared up at him, still making no motion to take the food. “What about the other guy with the red hair? Boreas, or whoever he was?” The corners of the avian’s mouth gave the briefest twitch before his features resettled into their impassive gaze. He set the plate and flask down next to where Titus sat propped against the wall near the bars and stood to leave. “Wait!” Titus said desperately, “I want to talk to my mother! I-“

The door clanged shut. A moment later, the buzz of aether was followed by another bubbling hiss, then silence.

Titus used the bars to lift himself slowly to his feet. He was grateful the lieutenant had left the aether lamp in its sconce, as he was now able to make out much more of his surroundings. Unfortunately, the additional detail told him little he did not know already, other than that the chair next to the door had been bolted to the floor in the manner consistent with airship designs.

He knew the captain had said to take them to an airship. What was the name again? The Indomitable? He wasn’t familiar with it, and it didn’t matter in any case. He was aboard it now and at the mercy of the captain’s good graces. For how long, he didn’t know, but he had no intention of finding out if Queen Sol had the same temperament as the rest of her retinue.

He began patting himself down, wincing as he encountered more bumps and bruises. They had taken his penknife, of course. Further searching revealed his lead pencil and his screwdriver were missing as well, although they had left him his pocket comb for some reason. It stood to reason that the tools could be used as improvised weapons – but it wasn’t like Titus would have stood a much better chance if he were allowed an Arclight cannon.

He had almost given up hope, when his searching fingertips settled on a set of tiny sharp metal points that made heart leap. They had missed his lockpicks! He quickly pulled the tiny bundle from his hidden pocket and untied the strings with fingers trembling from excitement. Grinning, he turned to examine the door to his cage, which was protected by an antique iron door padlock, probably something left over from the old Surface world, but nothing that was completely unfamiliar to him.

He spent a moment marveling at the ancient technology, before he selected his thickest rake along with a stouter piece of metal bent into the shape of an “L” and slipped both inside the lock. It was a bit different than his father’s alchemy cabinet lock, since the tumblers of this lock were significantly more sensitive and heavier than the tiny tumblers of the greased aether-powered clamp lock his father used. After a few moments of probing, the pins clicked into place and the door swung free on oiled hinges.

Titus smirked, recalling how Josephine and Perseus had scoffed when he had decided to learn lockpicking from their Master Tinker father, asking him if he’d already given up on contributing to “polite society” since his original plan to become a Master Apt wasn’t working out. A fat lot of good all their knowledge about accounting or military tactics would have done to help them to escape the cell like Titus had, although he grudgingly admitted he would probably be wishing he had some of Perseus’s athletic abilities in his immediate future.

Quietly opening the gate, he stepped into the room and approached the door. The lock had a design unfamiliar to Titus, having only two small pinholes located at the top and bottom of the simple round handle. He frowned as he considered the design, recalling the hissing, popping noise the lock had made when the lieutenant had used it. He had worked with aether-powered locks before, but they tended to require great amounts of strength to open. If he broke or bent his picks, he was stuck.

He chose one of his middling picks, a long and slender piece of steel with a tiny upwards hook at its tip and inserted it into the top hole. The tip struck a solid barrier just a quarter inch into the hole. Puzzled, he dug around, encountering nothing but empty space inside the diameter of the hole. He withdrew the pick to drop his gaze level with the opening and was greeted with the gleam of solid metal. A quick glance into its mate revealed it was identical to the first. Titus sat back on his haunches, utterly bewildered. What kind of door had no lock on it?

A wave of frustration washed over him, followed by the familiar cold, empty realization of yet another failure. He slumped next to the door, the cold steel wall pressing against his back and buried his face in his hands. Even with him being in arguably the best position in which to make use of the one skill he knew how to use better than anyone else, he still failed to measure up to the demands of the situation.

He thought of the reactions of those who learned of his… condition. Their eyes, wide with shock as they studied Titus anew rose unbidden to his mind. The looks of open pity they directed towards his parents changing to barely disguised revulsion as they glanced at Titus. Most would, of course, pretend to understand, but their sympathies were always directed toward his parents and siblings as if it were somehow Titus’s fault that they were being burdened with a child that could never do anything so simple as activating a light crystal without help. Titus would never be able to use an aether-powered oven, turn on an auto carriage, or even use an aether-powered elevator without someone who wasn’t a Spurned there to do it for him.

Voices rose from beyond the steel door, and Titus blanched. He darted back into the cell, closing the gate softly behind him before realizing he didn’t have a key to lock it again. He let out a choice curse he’d heard his father use and pulled the gate carefully into position so that it appeared to still be closed. Booted feet stopped outside his door and he heard the buzz of aether. Thinking quickly, Titus laid down as if he were still resting, his arm settling into place beneath his head just as the door let out the hissing pop of its lock.

Titus closed his eyes as the door opened, and he heard soft footsteps enter the room before the door closed once again. A silence followed. Titus did his best to appear as if resting, keeping his eyes closed and his breathing slow and even. If they were just here to check on him…

“I’m sorry we couldn’t provide you with better accommodations.” The man’s voice was high and thin, strained through overuse like some airship captains that came into the bakery, their voices worn from bellowing orders through gale-force winds. Titus continued to lay motionless. Go away… Go away… Go away…

“By all means, continue to pretend you’re asleep” the voice continued, “Although I must commend your resourcefulness. I find that compensating for the inability to use every day aether-powered objects that others take completely for granted seems to give many Spurned an innate sense of adaptability that others underestimate as a matter of course.” Titus’s eyes flew open and his raised his head with a scowl at the room’s other occupant, but his eyes widened as he took in the room’s newest occupant.

A human man wearing the dark red robes of a Protectorate council official stood next to the bars of the cell, an immaculately trimmed silvery pencil mustache set above a set of thin, wide lips that were quirked upward in amusement. His grey hair was cut long and styled about his shoulders in the fashion of the imperial court that Titus had seen printed in some of the newspapers in Azure City, and as he met the man’s gaze, the creases of the crow’s feet at the corners of his almond-shaped ice-blue eyes deepened as his visitor smiled down at him.

The man reached out a white-gloved forefinger to push lightly at the cell gate, and his smile widened further as the hinged bars swung free into the cell. “Very resourceful. I suppose the avians should count themselves fortunate that they don’t rely solely upon such unusual older technology to keep their prisoners secure.” Titus’s curiosity must have given him away, because the man waved a gloved hand at the door as he explained.

“The lock is indeed an unusual one. The common aether-powered lock is, of course, quite useful to those with aether attunement – in other words, everyone but people like yourself. They use a small Aetherium power crystal with a very specific fractal engraving to move a set of lock tumblers. The crystals are attuned to a user’s unique aether signature so that only those whose aether signature has been specifically keyed to open this lock may do so.” He waved a hand at the door. “As you are no doubt very acutely aware, this crystal functions by absorbing a tiny amount of the user’s personal aether – something that someone with your…attributes is not capable of performing, since you have no aether for it to absorb.”

He smiled wryly. “Of course, this does not prevent the use of more mundane methods to open the locks, which is where the aether-mold lock came into use. It is a truly fascinating system that uses aether to mold a ball of solid steel into a fluid-like state for a short moment in time, allowing it to be guided through the mortise before solidifying into a seamless loop, thus binding the door to the frame.”

He demonstrated by pressing his palm to the crystal next to the door, and a hissing pop sounded as the liquid steel looped through the door, then solidified, binding it shut. “The holes that you no doubt discovered shortly after leaving your cell are to let air in and out of the cavities inside the lock as the steel loop moves through it. When the steel ceases to move, it literally becomes one with the door. An un-pickable lock, if you will. Quite the expensive insurance policy since it only occasionally pays off when used for more some of the avians’ more capable guests.”

He glanced pointedly at Titus before looking down at the untouched plate of bread and the flask of water still resting on the ground. “And you appear to have a healthy degree of suspicion as well, I see. An excellent sense of self-preservation. I assure you, however, that in this place...” He spread his hands to indicate the ship around them, “You have nothing to fear from me or the others aboard. The empire is bound to protect its citizens, although I’m sure you disagree after what you’ve been through in the last few days.”

Titus kept his features schooled in an inscrutable mask as the man bent down and scooped up the plate and flask. He bit off a large piece of the bread, chewing slowly before washing it down with a few large gulps from the flask, then held them out to Titus. “Eat. Drink. I assure you that later you will be glad you did.” Titus reached for the food, then stopped and looked up as something the man had said clicked into place.

“You said a few days. How long have I been here?” The man’s grin widened further. “An astute observation, particularly when we take into consideration that you should be unquestionably famished and dehydrated after having been unconscious for more than forty-eight hours.”

At this, Titus’s stomach let out a growl of hunger that was actually loud enough to echo in the tiny space. The dry feeling lining the insides of this mouth and throat returned with a sensation akin to choking on a mouthful of hot sand. He snatched the flask from the man’s hands, practically tearing the cap off in his eagerness, and began to gulp down cool mouthfuls of water. “Easy does it, or you won’t be able to hold it down. Breathe between swallows.”

Titus forced himself to do as instructed, recalling when Kendall had once thrown up from drinking too fast during one of his cadet competitions. When the flask ran empty, he reached for the hunk of bread and began biting off as much as he could fit into his mouth. As he chewed, the man crouched to set the plate on the floor before sitting comfortably in the small chair across the room, his fingers steepled before him as he considered Titus.

“I suppose we need to get you caught up with events, my boy.” Titus paused long enough to spare him a glance as he swallowed, then asked, “Who are you?” The man waved one hand dismissively. “I? A mere representative to help promote the interests of humanity in the Empire that is sent to accompany Her Majesty Queen Sol when she journeys. I am required to provide her assistance when she requires it while she conducts business through the kingdom, and to assist with her interactions with the human race as our protectors and benefactors. When it comes to fellow humans, however, we must all stick together, must we not?” Titus, his mouth full, nodded in wholehearted agreement.

“I’m glad we agree. So, back to current events.” He steepled his fingers again and continued. “The situation in which we find ourselves requires a brief review of the realities of our world. As I’m sure you know, the Sky Cities are kept aloft by the lift coils embedded underneath the cities. They counteract the effects of gravity and thereby keep their occupants from becoming devoured by the dangerous beasts on the surface.”

Titus brushed a few crumbs from him mouth as the man continued to stroke the corner of his mustache. “The sky cities power their lift coils using the large reactor cores in their centers, are you familiar?” Titus nodded. “They turn excess biomass into fuel for the lift coils and to provide the cities with a source of aether power.”

“Correct again! But do you know how they do this?” Titus shook his head and the man sighed wearily. “Neither do I. But we do know that they require enriched aether crystals to do so. Most cities prefer to use naturally enriched aetherium crystals, which are only found in the deepest caverns on the surface and are guarded by the fiercest of mutated surface beasts. These beasts are typically loathe to part with such a powerful source of the energy that makes them strong.”

Titus nodded. Azure Sky City didn’t have a crystal hunter station within it, but several hunters had come through the bakery while on their way to or from other cities that did. Every one of them had carried an air of danger, and every one of them carried scars, injuries, or had missing limbs replaced with gleaming brass. “Only the bravest and most skilled few dare venture into those depths,” the man continued, “and fewer still return with their prize. Since the aetherium is often obtained with the blood of their close friends and compatriots, none are willing to part with the crystals for anything less than a king’s ransom. The result? Only the wealthiest of cities can afford to purchase natural aetherium.”

The man smiled thoughtfully and glanced at Titus. “I know what you’re thinking. If every city just formed a team of Apt, they could go find their own aetherium, could they not?” Titus nodded in agreement. “Alas, but that was where things went wrong in the first sky cities. Teams of Apt hunters, fueled by visions of getting treasure and glory for their home city, flooded the surface. Without the training and skills necessary to survival in the Awakened Wilds, they were slaughtered, and much of their valuable and powerful gear and artifacts remains lost to us to this day.”

Titus finished the last of his bread crust as the man continued. “The hunters are a valuable resource that we cannot afford to squander, thus the Protectorate serves to ensure that only the best-trained are allowed to use the most powerful and valuable equipment in their hunts. Since the hunters without such equipment are essentially guaranteed to be slaughtered, few are willing to go without it. Unfortunately for the rest of us, the avians hold almost all of the readily available technology.

He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together meaningfully. “The avian empire makes a hefty profit from aetherium hunters, since they will only issue their technology to licensed hunters that have been trained in their Hunter’s Academy, and they maintain close control over their hunters and their equipment. Joining the Imperial Hunter’s Association is not something one undertakes lightly.”

He leaned back in his chair again. “The only alternative to commissioning an aetherium hunt is to purchase synthetically enriched aether crystals created by the Alchemists’ Guilds, which as I’m sure you are aware are exceedingly difficult to make and are vastly inferior to naturally-occurring aetherium, requiring replacement every few years or so.”

The man’s voice dropped to a low growl. “What most do not know is that only the avian alchemists hold the secrets to their creation and divide up the various processes between the guilds so that no one guild holds all of the secrets. If one guild reveals the secrets to another, the avians give all of the business to the guild with both secrets and refuses to contract with the fallen guild to ensure that the humans are unable to obtain the secrets for themselves.”

A dark look lingered on his face for a moment before he turned his gaze back to Titus. His back stiffened and a chill ran up his spine from the intense look in the man’s eyes. “This is where Her Majesty’s visit to your Azure Sky City comes in. Azure City’s core crystals are running out of power, and the city has insufficient funds to purchase more. In a few months, Azure Sky City’s lift coils will begin to run out of power, and the city will begin to drift down to the Surface.”

Titus felt the color drain from his face. “What are we going to do? My family… the city…” The man gestured with an open hand. “The governor, who I believe is a friend of your father’s, contacted Her Majesty Queen Sol some time ago. His solution was to petition for licensing a group of hunters right here in Azure City. Apparently, there is a large stash of aetherium that has been discovered here and while he did not possess the funds to pay for a full commissioned excursion of trained Hunters, his letters convinced Her Majesty that a group of candidates in the city – a new contingent of Air Rangers that I believe your brother commands – were of sufficient capability as to be able to be licensed immediately as Hunters. Quite a statement of confidence to be sure!”

Titus felt a surprising swell of pride for Perseus. Who knew the insufferable jerk had it in him? As if reading his thoughts, the man chuckled aloud. “I’m sure that comes as something of a surprise to you. It certainly did for the Queen. After all, each hunter commissioned is guaranteed by the Empire itself, and she stands to lose considerable funds if the hunters are killed and their gear lost, or worse, if the hunters join with the city in an attempt to secede from the Empire.”

He turned his gaze towards the ceiling. “Her Majesty wished to observe a demonstration of the rangers’ abilities in person, and - if the purported abilities of the soldiers were as advertised and the people content to live under the Empire’s rule - to negotiate a contract with the city to extend a loan for a new Hunter’s Hall and enough synthetic crystals to keep the station running in the meantime.”

Titus released a breath of relief. I need to apologize to that stuck-up overachiever, he thought. He’s going to save the city! Aloud, he said, “So as long as the Queen sees that they can survive on the Surface, and all of us are ok with being citizens then the city will be ok?” he asked, but the man shook his head regretfully.

“That’s where you and your mother’s encounter with Captain Solguard proves most unfortunate. The avian is an entitled bully and a pompous fop at the best of times, but…“ Titus let out an involuntary snort of amusement and the man raised an eyebrow as he continued. “…he is a decorated war hero with several cloud dragon kills to his name, and who assists with ensuring the safety of Her Majesty the Queen. He is also directly responsible for evaluating the capabilities of the team that the governor has proposed to be licensed as Hunters.”

Titus’s blood ran cold as the man gave him a nod. “I’m sure you can appreciate why this leads us to a most difficult situation, as the captain feels that his pride and honor have been sullied by you and your mother. Lieutenant Klaus’s account of the events has provided us with enough information to require a judgement from the Queen herself, and Private Fellweather has been remarkably quiet about how he obtained that lump on the side of his head, but make no mistake, the captain intends to get payback no matter the cost to you, your family, or your city.”

He sighed again and lifted a hand as if in resignation. “Protectorate law allows him to challenge your mother to a duel to the death or enslavement for his honor. Since avian women are expected to fulfill their duels or obtain a champion, and your mother is a baker and not a warrior, your father is expected to step in to claim the right of her champion as a blood relation, in this case, marriage. If he is defeated, she is still legally able to duel the captain herself to maintain her freedom or her life.”

He shrugged and winced sympathetically. “Unfortunately for everyone, that still leaves your parents - the head of security in the largest borough of Azure City and the mother of the commander of the new Hunters - dead or enslaved at the hands of the Captain of Her Majesty’s security detail, or vice-versa. Hardly an ideal diplomatic situation from which to grow the seeds of mutual trust and cooperation between the Empire and one of its furthest cities.”

Titus slumped in the corner of the cell, his horror eclipsing the pain in his side as he struggled to breathe. The bread and water that had helped satisfy his intense hunger only a few minutes before suddenly turned to an oily, frigid lump in his gut. “What do we do?” he whispered hoarsely, his hands trembling as he put his head between his knees. “I’ve killed the entire city because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut! What do I do?”

Through the pounding in his ears, he heard the man’s soft footsteps approach the cage. A leather gloved hand landed comfortingly on Titus’s shoulders, and he looked up into the man’s icy gaze that glittered with a startling intensity. “That depends on what you’re willing to do for your city, son.” Titus took a deep breath and steeled his nerves, returning his stare with his own fierce resolve. “Whatever it takes!”

The gloved hand squeezed his shoulders almost painfully. “Excellent resolve, my boy. Now here’s what you’re going to say…”