The bright light from the portholes was refreshing to Rael; time held almost no meaning in the deepest part of the ship, and any light was appreciated. But this was different from the light of a summer day, blinding and hot, or the subtle glare of sunlight on a cloudy day. The light that shone through the portholes was more invigorating, yet comfortable. As if a gentle breeze had become a healthy glow. It illuminated below deck in an all-encompassing permeance, the barrels, the chairs, the tables, and the groggy fellow staring blearily into his stew. He barely had any time to realize what was happening when Rael rushed over to him and slammed his face into his meal. While he was struggling, another escapee tied his arms behind his back with a set of enchanted chains. Rael quickly looked around the mess in the room, finding barrels of water, crates of preserved fruits—a few bites of which they quickly stuffed into their mouth— and finally, some rope. Rael gagged the sailor as he came up from his stew to take a breath and let out a sigh of relief as the man struggled flutily against his bonds. The other former captives spread about the room, gathering ropes, knives, and lots of food.

“That closed door at the stern is probably the quarters.” Thierrson whispered.

“Looks dark through the cracks.” Someone noted. “No portholes?”

Thierrson shook his head. “Nope. Sleeping through daylight is common, especially for ships of at least this size.”

“We just have to lock it somehow.” Rael took the bowl of stew and chugged it to wash down the fruit.

“That won’t work.” Thierrson said. “They’ll just break down the door.”

Rael wiped their mouth, approaching the door to place their hands on the seams, an idea forming in their mind. “Synthesis.”

The wood melted into itself, creating a continuous wall of wood with two hinges embedded within.

“Now we just have to take care of those above deck.” Rael noted.

Above deck was much the same as below. Only a few sailors milled about, tying lines or looking off into the distance. All at once, the escapees ran out to tackle the sailors. While the sailors and former prisoners were relatively equal in number, the escapees were buffed, desperate, and had the element of surprise.

Rael had looked to the bow of the ship but rushed towards the stern, where somebody was navigating the ship. Whoever he was, he needed to go down, as he had the best view of the entire ship. As his crewmates were being subdued, and a few of the more belligerent ones thrown overboard in loud screams, he panicked and let go of the wheel to summon a Tome of leather parchment.

Rael was only a few meters away when he began casting.

“[Sho—”

Rael jumped forwards and drove their fist into his stomach. As he choked on his own bile, Rael shoulder-checked him into the floor, where Rael grappled him with the Tome-dagger to his throat.

“[Create Water].” Water splashed over them both.

“You try to use that ‘Shock’ spell again, and we’ll both get hurt, got it?” Rael glared. “And since you know how to drive this airship, it’s in our best interests to keep you alive, alright?”

The dagger dug a bit deeper into the quivering sailors throat, a few pinpricks of blood appearing as he slowly nodded. He was led to the others and tied to the mast with the enchanted chains alongside the others. Most were gagged, including an angry Caldon with a slowly swelling black eye. The former prisoners let out a collective sigh of relief, a few sitting down, others crying in relief. A few of them gathered on the stern, by the wheel to discuss.

“W-we were a bit lou-loud. I th-think those in the qu-quarters may be awake now.”

“Do you think they’d risk using spells to break out while we’re in the Calidaerum fields?” Rael asked Thierrson.

“No clue. Using spellwork on any part of the ship could damage the enchantments that allow the airship to change altitudes.”

“B-but th-they don’t know what’s happening.” Mila noted. “They’re trapped and con-confused. We all know wh-what desperate people can do.”

“We need to negotiate with them.” Rael concluded. “We’ve got hostages.”

“And we can reveal the truth about Azmond.”

Mila nodded. “We were prob-probably not the only ones ignorant of hi-him.”

As if he heard his name, Azmond poked his head from below deck. A few of those tied around the mast frowned when they saw him, but their eyes widened as they realized what they were looking at. “Is it safe?” He called out.

“Yes, sw-sweetie.” Mila affirmed as she walked to wards the mast, beckoning the others to follow her. Thierrson took the wheel, eyes jumping between the bright horizon and what was happening on deck. Mila squatted down to meet Azmond eye-to-eye. “Az-Azmond, we-we’re going to need you to be br-brave. Can you do that for u-us?”

Azmond nodded slowly as his eyes darted over the sailors tied to the mast. She gave him her hand and he clasped it, as they walked together towards those who had imprisoned them. Mila approached the one that Rael had subdued and sat down in front of him, tapping the floor next to her as a motion to get Azmond to sit next to her. Rael loomed protectively over him, but Mila shooed them away.

“I’m go-going to ungag you now. We-we need to talk. No ye-yelling, please. Is that acc-acceptable?” Despite her stutter, Mila spoke with confidence and clarity. The man nodded. Gently, she reached over and removed the dirty cloth from his mouth. As promised, he didn’t scream.

“Thank you. My na-name is Mila. What’s y-yours?”

“Ty.”

“Is th-this your first trip on this ship?”

“No. I’m the second mate.”

“You’ve been wor-working on this ship for longer th-than most.”

“Yes.”

“But n-not as long as the cook and fir-first mate, I’m gathering?” The second mate raised an eyebrow quizzically and nodded. “Is th-this the first time you’re smu-smuggling people?”

“I was told we were transporting debt slaves and criminal slaves.” Rael snorted but Mila raised a hand miming Rael to be quiet before turning back to Ty and giving him a look one might see on a disappointed mother. “Yes. Apparently, there’s great profit in selling slaves to Bergin. Tariffs were too high for the captain, so he decided we go through…unofficial routes.”

“Y-your first time smuggling as we-well, then.”

“Yes,” he nodded again, “but the captain and first mate told us they’d done so before, and even hired more experienced smugglers to join us.” A few of the other sailors tied to the other side of the mast began struggling angrily.

“Ty, c-could you please tell your cr-crewmates to stop. We don’t me-mean any harm. The be-best solution would be for u-us to work t-together.”

“A few of our friends were thrown overboard, and they don’t see what I see.”

“Azmond, c-could you walk around the ma-mast and show your face to them?” Azmond squirmed before he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I promised, remember, Az?” Rael gave a comforting smile as they tried to avoid glowering at the sailors. Rael took his hand and made sure every sailor saw his face. Some struggles stopped slowly, others quickly as looks of horror dawned on their faces. There was one face Rael didn’t want to look at, but Azmond saw. It was not a look of realization like others, or mounting horror at one’s own actions, but an upturned nose approaching a scowl directed towards the young Child of Dragons. Caldon was unimpressed.

“I h-hope you don’t mind we ask a few qu-questions before we consider letting you go.” The former prisoners grew agitated at Mila’s statement before she continued. “V-very few of us know how to fly a sh-ship and it’s in our best interests if we work together. You get to s-s-sell your other goods and w-we get to go free, no more pain. Can we fly back where we came?”

“We don’t have enough rations. Our only route is towards Bergin.” Noticing how they were now shuffling around, Ty continued. “We could probably drop you off on a mainland beach, away from where we planned on smuggling our goods.”

“Beggars can’t be ch-choosers. We’ve sealed the r-rest of the crew in the qu-quarters. Do y-you th-think they’ll behave?”

“Not for long. They won’t break out while we’re still in the Calidaerum. A stray shot could break this schooner apart. They may use non-magical means if you take too long, so it’d be best to convince them as well.”

“Ask him if the ship is based on a pressure gauge system!” Thierrson called out.

“It’s not.” Ty answered. “The ship’s decent, it has a manipulated density keel connected to the rod by the wheel. But it’s not one of the better ones where there’s a dial or lever that anybody can use. You need to know the Alter Weight spell. Or the two precursor spells, Increase Weight and Reduce Weight.”

“He says no, it relies on magic!” Rael yelled back.

“Shit!” Thierrson pointed at another escapee. “Harold, get over here!” Once the man scrambled over to him, Thierrson started giving directions. “Take the wheel and make sure we keep going diagonally to the Edge. That’s where the strongest wind is coming from. Don’t turn into the wind, or you’ll force us to tack, and we don’t have enough experienced people here to do that. Don’t turn away from the wind or we’ll be blown off course. Avoid downdrafts or we’ll be pulled into the Edge and burn alive.” He clapped the wide-eyed man on the back. “No stress.” He sauntered down the stairs to Rael and Mila.

“If it has to be driven with magic, then only a few people can fly the ship, and the captain knows that. We have to go to them now and crush whatever that asshole is doing.”

“W-we need to ne-negotiate.”

“All they know is that something happened and that only a few people can pilot the ship.” Rael said before the two could begin to argue. “Their options are either to play nice and live, or risk spooking us into sailing to our doom. We should negotiate, but you should lead the discussion, Thierrson.” At his cocked eyebrow, Rael continued. “You know more about navigation, and the fact you’re against negotiating with them is a point in our favor. They’re scared, they don’t know what’s going on, and they need the ship intact more than we need them.”

Thierrson huffed but made his way to where there used to be a door and rapped a meaty fist on it.

“Are you jackasses awake yet?!”

There was a shuffling and some hushed whispers before a familiar dignified voice responded.

“We are. Is this a mutiny?” He spoke calmly, as if this were a common occurrence.

“Sort of. Let’s just say there’s been a disagreement on what constitutes as ‘trade goods’.”

“Ah.” There were more whispers. “Less of a mutiny and more of a slave revolt…I hope you’re aware that I had purchased you legally. Are you prepared to face the consequences?” The more the man spoke, the more Rael grit their teeth. The voice was recognizable now. It was the man who’d poked and prodded at them, forced their mouth open, and observed every inch of their body as if they were a slice of meat before declaring a price.

“Are you?” Thierrson stifled a snort. “Smuggling debt slaves to the Empire makes you a criminal to both Bergin and Coalition powers.”

“A paltry fine, I assure you.”

“Nice bluff, but no. For the Coalition, it’s a fine and chopping off a hand or two. For first offenders, by the way. As for the Bergin Empire, it’s execution…if you’re lucky enough to be a native. Citizens lose their status. I don’t think any of you are either of those, so you’ll probably get collared like the rest of us.”

There was silence for a long moment.

“It’s a good thing our word has more weight than that of a set of rebellious slaves.” There were a few nervous chuckles on the other side of the wall.

“You—” Thierrson no doubt had something to say, but he collapsed then and there. Rael and Mila looked at each other, eyes wide in surprise. Mila got by his side and measured his pulse, panic fading to confusion.

‘Asleep’, she mouthed to Rael.

‘Why?’ Rael mouthed back, franticly gesticulating. ‘What happened?’

Mila shrugged, pinpricked eyes darting around in panic.

“Yes?” The voice on the other side said in an all-too sweet tone.

Time to improvise.

“Sorry, it seems you’ve pissed him off with how shameless you are.” Rael stepped in. “I mean, really, after trying to hide it from the rest of your crew?” Rael motioned Mila to drag Thierrson away.

“Pardon me, what?” The man intoned as there was a chorus of murmurs. “Who is this?”

“You remember me. I’m the one who smiled when you knocked my price down after finding out I was ‘damaged goods’. You asked why I was smiling then. I didn’t answer.”

“Ah, yes. The Meta. With an intact womb you would have fetched a much higher price. It’s not often I see a slave smile while their owner frowns.” There were a few nervous chuckles behind the door. Rael could practically see the man roll his eyes and wave his hand in a mocking manner to ease his crew’s mind. Rael considered casting Life Detection, but it would be a waste. This captain wasn’t a special as he thought.

“I was smiling because I got what I wanted from stabbing myself.” There was a pause on the other end, and Rael pushed the advantage. “Spite drives me. I hope you recognize that going forwards. As for the questions your crew is asking, did you really not tell them the truth of the child in the mask?”

The hushes grew louder, and a few snippets of conversation became apparent as Rael felt a grin grow on their face. If there was anything Rael learned back home besides how to throw a good punch, it was saying the right thing to get people arguing with one another.

“What is she talking about?”

“Is it true?”

“I was wonderin’ about the mask.”

“Don’t listen to her!”

“ I’d have to admit, enslaving a Child of Dragons is ballsy. If I didn’t find it completely sacrilegious.”

“LIAR!” The voice broke, before the man composed himself. “How dare you accuse me of something so heinous?!”

“You’re a merchant through and through; lies flow from your lips so gold can flow in your coffers. But I’m sure the truth will become obvious when you ask your cook who put the mask on the child. After all, he has smithy burns on his hands.”

The silence grew into a grumbling rage as they no doubt turned around to find the cook and question him. Just as they were beginning to yell at one another, Mila came below deck again.

“W-we’ve got a pr-problem. Em-empire ship on the ho-horizon.”

‘First that idiot passes out mid-conversation, now this. I knew things wouldn’t go exactly my way, but this is ridiculous.’

The footsteps on deck grew louder and more frantic as the words seemed to bounce around below deck.

“Did you hear that, Captain?”

“…Maybe.”

“Would you rather negotiate with countrymen you’ve enslaved, or Bergese who would enslave you?”

Panicked whispers, too many to distinguish, grew into loud arguing in the crew quarters. The captain’s voice rose among the rest calling for quiet. Whispers of an idea began to form behind what used to be the door to the quarters. ‘Can’t have that.’

“You have less choices than you think. You may outnumber us, but every second of fighting is a second the Empire closes in. And I guarantee you—” Rael barely winced as the Tome-dagger slipped from their chest and into their hand and began to slowly drag the tip across the wood separating them. “—If you have any stupid ideas about charging out and capturing everyone on the ship, putting us back in chains, and making a daring getaway…I will do everything in my power to destroy the most important looking parts of the ship. And I won’t be alone. Freedom is so.”

Stab.

“Very.”

Stab.

“Close.”

The third stab managed to puncture a hole that Rael could look through. Green eyes met brown and Rael smiled.

“The way I see it, we share a fate now. Maybe you do capture us all, with no damage to your crew or your ship. If the Dragons bless you with incredible fortune.” The captain flinched. “More likely, if we don’t work together, the Empire ship will either blow us up once we’re in range or board and capture us all to use as slaves. Free of charge. Unless you think you can negotiate with them?”

“I can try…” The merchant mumbled half-heartedly.

“Anybody who knows how to read a map knows the Empire doesn’t negotiate. Land, people, money, it doesn’t matter. It takes what it wants. And if you think you’re special enough that they’ll sit at a table with you and talk instead of just robbing you of everything…you must be a bigger moron than they think.”

Rael stared, unblinking, into the merchant’s eye until he looked down.

“Fine. Let us out.”

“Only if you swear by the Dragons that you will accept us as free people. You will work with us as equals, not slaves, and you will let us off at the nearest non-Bergin port.” The captain shuffled at that but relented.

“So be it. I swear—”

“All of you will swear.” Rael interrupted and smiled evilly. “And I get to punch the cook.”

“WHAT?!” A voice roared from behind the captain. “Thatsa load of BULL—”

“Shut it Heph!” Someone else yelled. “I want to live!”

“Consider it done.” The captain said.

After the smugglers swore to uphold their promise, Rael got two of the bigger former slaves, Kord and Tiny Tom, to come down with axes. Rael cast Synthesis on the wood and air to make it weaker so that the two buff men could chop open a hole. As they got to work, Mila approached again.

“Th-they’re on our tail. They we-were on the ho-horizon a f-f-f-few minutes ago, but now we can see them more clearly. It-it’s a b-big ship.”

The smugglers began to slowly step through the hole as the two men who freed them tightened their grips on their axes as they glared at them. The first to step through was the captain. When Rael first met him, they had to look up to see him as he was standing on a platform looking over goods. He had to get on his knee to stare eye-to-eye with Rael, frisking them, checking their teeth, poking and prodding to assess the quality of his new ‘goods’. He had sneered when Rael’s brother had told him that Rael was a Meta, but his eyes glistened with greed when he found the scar on Rael’s abdomen. Rael had seen that look in their father’s eyes whenever he looked to buy something and obsessed over the minutest flaws to try and lower the price. And now that Rael and the captain stood on equal ground, Rael saw a man forced to look up into her eyes before breaking his gaze.

And then came the large asshole.

“’ll right ‘lil girl. One punch, but don’t think I’ll—"

Clops.

Rael’s fist met the cook’s face in a haymaker that knocked him and a couple of his teeth to the ground. He lay there like a beached whale, dazed, confused, and bleeding from his mouth.

“I’m sorry, were you going to say something important?” Rael fought to contain a smirk off their face but was clearly failing.

“Guh.” The cook tried to say something.

“He seems the type to hold a grudge. Is he the type to hold a grudge?” Rael shook the pain from their hand. Should’ve readied the punch better. But I got him to shut up so…eh, worth it.

Some of his crewmates nodded as the captain sighed.

“Then it’d be best to put him in the brig before he does something stupid like betray us for the Empire.”

“Come now,” the captain implored. “You’re being paranoid.”

“Am I?” Rael looked to the rest of the crew as quite a few of them shook their heads. Dejected at the sight, the captain sighed and nodded. Rael stopped themself from grinning. “Kord, Tom, can you please wrap the cook in chains and give him our old room?” Kord gave a gruff nod and Tim smiled as he corrected Rael.

“Tiny Tom. Tom’s my grand-da.” The two of them hoisted the cook and took him away.

As the newly freed sailors made it above deck, everybody else on deck froze. Most of the former slaves glared at them while the rest tried to make themselves seem small. The sailors themselves had met their glares but stopped when they saw Azmond, who himself was hiding behind the man at the steering wheel. Despite this, his horns were clearly visible.

There was a moment of tension, nobody moved. The only sound was the wind dancing in the rigging. Former slaves gripped makeshift weapons until their knuckles turned white, and the sailors were split between glaring at their captain or the escapees.

Rael clapped their hands and the spell was broken. “No time for whatever this is! That ship is on our heels and if we want to escape.” People began moving. Those around the mast were untied and joined their kin in climbing up the nets to the sails. Others, ran about confused until they were pointed in the direction of below deck by Ty.

“Go down and throw whatever isn’t food, weapons, or water overboard.”

The captain heard this and grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?! Do you know how much we’ve spent on our cargo?” Ty brushed him off and almost pushed him away, before taking a deep breath and stepping back.

“Captain, we’ve risked a lot of money on this. But we don’t need to risk our lives too. We have to cut our losses.”

“But…”

“Halute,” Ty put his hand on the captain’s shoulder, “It’s a galleon. They’re not here to play. At best we’d be slaves. At worse, they’d torture us, kill us, and then parade our corpses around their cities.”

“…Why now, of all times?” The captain stumbled away from his second mate, arm leaning against the aft wall. He watched as former slaves came out with coffers of cloth and steel. He seemed to be struggling for air. “Why us? Galleons never fly for anything less than war. Manned by only the most devoted nutjobs in the empire.”

“So you can’t bribe them.” Rael leaned with him, back to the wall. “Our only chance is to run.”

The captain turned to glare at Rael. “I can’t help but feel like you are at fault. Metas really do bring misfortune.”

“Or maybe…” Rael glared right back, “Imprisoning and selling not just people, but a Child of Dragons, is bound to bring some sort of justice on your head.”

Captain and slave looked at one another before the captain broke eye contact. Slower this time, with the hollow expression of a broken man. “Perhaps.” He gave a wry laugh, which almost turned into a strangled sob.

“Our sloop may be lighter, but galleons usually have the best ship-mages and war-mages available. They’ll catch up with us unless we take risks.” Ty scratched his beard.

“What I’m worried about is how they found us, and why.” Rael frowned. “Something stinks here, and for once it’s not me.”

“These are Imperial waters, of course they’d be patrolling…” the captain waved his hand dismissively before stopping. “But not with a galleon.” He stood up straight.

“It’s also lucky on their part that they found us in the vast Regyian Sea.” Ty noted.

“They may be targeting us. But why?” The captain said.

It makes no sense. I need to think…who stands to gain the most from this?

And in that second, Rael knew.

“Maybe the how and why are the same answer.” Rael looked pointedly in the direction of the only person sitting still on the ship. A brooding young man clutching onto the railing. Caldon.

Ty was confused. “The kid? But he’s—"

“The son of a rich man in Bergin,” Rael interrupted, “probably even someone important. He has some sort of message spell. He showed it off in front of us.”

“If he’s the son of son of some senator, or Dragons forbid, an admiral, it may explain the response.” Ty groaned.

“Maybe we throw him overboard and forget about him?” Rael shrugged with an uneasy smile.

Ty shook his head. “Then we wouldn’t be able to use him as a hostage if they catch up.”

“I’ll get some of the crew to put him in the brig, then.” The captain sighed. “The last thing we need is him feeding them more information. Meet me below deck so we can discuss out plans without…damaging morale.”

Rael could read between the lines. The captain didn’t think there was a good chance of escaping. As a couple of the crew followed the captain’s instructions as they eyed Caldon suspiciously, Rael made their way below deck, finding Mila and another crewmate looking over Thierrson.

“What’s wrong with him?” Rael asked over the man’s shoulder.

“SHI—" He jumped up and backed away. “Oh, sorry.” He dusted some imaginary dust off his shirt. “I’m a bit jumpy since I got my head slammed into my soup. As I was explaining to miss Mila here, I’m Lew, the ship doctor.”

Rael cringed, realizing why the man was familiar. Doctor? Uh-oh. “Yeah…uuuh, sorry about that. We needed to escape.”

“It’s understandable, I suppose. No need to apologize, ma’am. I’d just like to give the man who almost drowned me a stern talking to about keeping his meaty hands to himself.” Lew huffed.

I—You know what, whatever.

“If you’re a doctor, that means something is wrong with Thierrson.” As Rael spoke, there was a commotion behind them. They watched as Caldon was dragged below deck by a burly woman and two men. Rael glanced worriedly at him.

I really hope he doesn’t cause any more problems for us.

Rael turned back to focus on Thierrson. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll live, if that’s what you’re asking.” Lew rubbed his balding head. “I’ve read manuscripts on the condition. Narcolepsy. He’ll be falling asleep randomly for the rest of his life. Or not. The manuscripts weren’t very clear.”

“H-h-how d-did it happen?”

“Has he experienced a strong blow to the head recently?”

Mila froze.

Rael tentatively reached for her shoulder but shrunk back at the last moment. Lew looked between the two cluelessly.

“Listen Mila, it’s not your—” The ship shook fiercely. “What the fuck now?!” Rael snarled, stomping up the stairs.

On deck, sailors and former prisoners were running around in a panic, tying down loose barrels, sealing holes in the balloon, and otherwise running around in a mess. Ty and the captain were shouting orders, trying to put order into chaos

“Keep course!”

“Cast reinforcement spells!”

“Secure the rigging!”

“Hold fast, another is coming!”

Rael was about to ask what was coming when they heard a small pop off the starboard bow. There was a flash and a burst of wind as Rael was nearly sent back below deck and the ship heaved. Someone was blown off the rigging and almost fell into the ocean far below, but a former slave caught him by the foot and swung him back on deck.

Is this what a warmage can do? Shouldn’t they be trying to take us alive? Rael inspected the ship and noted that aside from the chaos, the ship had only sustained minor damage. They’re trying to get us to stop by scaring us.

“Don’t panic!” Rael made their voice heard. “They won’t destroy our ship! It’s just some intimidation!” Some of the crew calmed, but they continued to nervously glance at the approaching galleon. “We have someone they want alive.”

“But if they keep pestering us,” Ty approached Rael, bushy eyebrows furrowed. “They will catch up with us. Every shot pushes us off course and slows us down.”

“We can use the Calidaerum as cover, but it won’t matter soon.” The captain shook his head. “We’re reaching the end of the field.”

“We can also try to use our lighter weight as an advantage.” Ty recommended. “Get to an altitude they can’t reach. But until then, we’d be clear of the Calidaerum and an easy target.

Rael looked at the blue and green pants bobbing in the wind passing them by. Odd that those onion-shaped bulbs were the only thing that stood between them and a life of lowly servitude.

“And even so,” Rael muttered, “what would we do? Once we reach a high altitude, they’d be waiting below us. Do we have enough food for a return to Marnesia? We could lead them back there and let the coalition forces sort it out.” The captain and Ty shook their heads.

“What if we brought the Caly-day-rum with us?”

Rael swiveled around, finding Azmond right behind them.

“But that would make us more vulnerable—” The captains started before Ty interrupted.

“Captain, the Child of Dragons is right. They want our ship intact, and Caldon alive. By holding our own ship hostage, they won’t be able to fire offensive spells directly at us. Plus, the added Calidaerum will allow us to ascend quicker.”

The captain groaned. “Hells, we might as well. Let’s just break one of the most tried and true rules of airships and strap a few on our hull.” He turned to the crew. “Attention! Who here is ready to go down in the annals of history as either a bunch of fools or a group of geniuses?!”

Those watching the ship from afar would be treated to a strange sight. The sloop they were harassing was slowing down but raised no flag of surrender. Perhaps they would see a scant few figures jumping from the ship onto nearby Calidaerum and using whatever they could find to adhere the fuzzy plants to their ship. Mast nets cut down to throw over the smaller ones, and flashes from all sorts of strange spells to get the Calidaerum to stick. Generate Honey, Glue, Affix, Spider Silk, Sticky Spit…Anything and everything until you could see nothing left of the hull, and very little of the deck. Those on the galleon had laughed at its futile efforts to escape before, mocking the little ants scurrying on deck from so far away, but were no doubt befuddled as the ship began to gather more and more of the gasbags. Rather than using the rigging and mast nets to climb up to the balloon, the crew pulled themselves up by the briny hair of the Calidaerum. The captain, the first mate, and Ty all held the altimeter, focusing on their collective Alter Weight spells to keep the sloop at the same altitude.

Rael themselves had secured a few smaller Calidaerum to the hull using Synthesis, but the repeated castings had taken their tool. Rael licked their dry lips as they struggled to keep their eyes open, tasting iron on their breath.

“Rael, come on, you-you’ve done e-e-e-nough.” Mila called. “R-r-rest and eat.”

Rael jumped back on deck and stumbled by the mast. Those who couldn’t help with the Calidaerum were passing food and drink. Mila sat by Rael as Azmond passed them some stew and fruits. Rael massaged their jaw as the ship began to rise.

“Can’t hold it any longer!” The captain called. “Hold!”

They began to accelerate upwards and towards the rainbow fire. It was only when Rael looked over the side that they’d realized how much the galleon had caught up. There was a spyglass rolling around on deck, no doubt dropped in the recent chaos. Rael grabbed it and focused on the chasing galleon. Their heart dropped when they could see the people aboard, emphasizing how massive the ship really was. It’s bigger than any building I’ve ever seen. It must be over 200 meters long! From far away, Rael could tell the general shape, with a deck hanging below the balloon. Now, Rael could see there was an even larger deck resting atop the balloon, with the four masts hanging by the sides and a jib connecting the lower deck to the armored ram extending from the top deck. On the upper deck there were various ballistae, glowing with magic, aimed at the ship with thick ropes coiled besides them. A man in a flowing back and blue overcoat and white tri-corner hat held his hand up. They’re getting ready to shoot? But we’re nearly a kilometer away!

“Forget the slow ascent!” Rael screamed. “We’re almost in their range!”

Ty widened his eyes and let go of the altimeter, causing the ship to surge up faster. There were a series of twangs, and a single pop, but the sloop accelerated higher again. Most of the crew stumbled and held one another at the lurch, cringing at the pain in their ears.

Rael looked back down and saw the ballista bolts fall into the ocean, hanging from their lines that began to reel them back in. If they can hit nearly hit us from so far away, altitude will only help us so much. Then again, they can’t exactly aim vertically. Apparently, whoever was in charge was thinking similarly. The Empire’s crew began moving to the upper deck and disassembling some of the ballistae as the galleon itself began to slowly rise after them. Rael focused the lens on the man in the overcoat. They could see him pointing at the ballistae and waving for more of the crew to assist. He stopped for a moment and craned his head up to look at them. He had white muttonchops and handlebar mustache, a set of bushy eyebrows furrowed over a pair of glacial grey eyes, and a thin-lipped mouth pursed in derision. Rael counted two golden stripes on his pauldron and put down the spyglass. Ty leaned by Rael and sighed.

“What do you see?”

“I think they’re trying to set up the ballistae to shoot vertically. That, or throwing them overboard to reduce weight further.” Rael grunted.

“I doubt that. What else?”

“An old man seems to be in charge. Two golden stripes on his pauldrons.” Ty sucked in a breath. “I really hope that was because the air is thinner.”

“No…that’s because an admiral personally came to capture us.” Ty groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Who in the Hells is the kid’s father?”

“If an admiral came,” Rael grit their teeth, “does that mean that this isn’t the only ship after us?”

“Most likely. I’ll tell the captain it’s time to try something really risky. Maybe a Pepper Maneuver.” Some of the nearby sailors cringed and began to scramble to their feet once more and tie stuff down. Ty began walking towards the captain at the wheel as Rael followed him.

“Pepper Maneuver?”

“It’s when you sail incredibly close to the Edge and use the strong updrafts to keep the ship in the air as you let out the air in the balloon from the back so there’s less drag and more propulsion.” Ty approached the captain and opened his mouth to speak, but the captain beat him to it.

“I saw the crew react to what you said. We’re going to attempt a Pepper Maneuver, aren’t we?” The captain grimaced but began turning the ship closer to the Edge. Rael was struggling to make sense of whatever they were doing.

“Hold on…”

“Yes, they have an admiral. We have to get some people on the attached Calidaerum to pierce them in the right place.” Ty sighed. “We might lose some people there, but we have to choose some volunteers if we all want to survive.”

“This Pepper Maneuver just sounds like free fall.” Rael put in.

“It is.” The captain wiped his brow. “Focusing everything on speed rather than lift. We’ll climb as high as we can and get into position. Then we’ll escape out of whatever net they have planned for us.”

Suddenly, the sloop lurched and began to sink lower.

“They have a gravity mage.” Ty noted, panic creeping into his voice.

“Release the aft lower seal. We have air to spare.” The captain’s expression was firm and calm.

Ty pulled a lever at the aft of the ship, and a rope unplugged a seal at the back of the balloon. Theuy were still losing altitude, but they had gained some distance on the galleon. The hot winds started to sap the moisture from Rael’s skin, and they had to be careful not to look directly at the massive wall of rainbow fire that left not a trace of shadow on the two ships. The howl of the flames got louder and louder, until it was a constant roar screaming in their ears. The people on the ship stopped running about, grabbing onto things to stay stable. There was no more causal chatter on the ship, nor even the curses and shuffling of busywork. Just people holding on for dear life as the ship seemed to sail towards certain death. Rael saw a few of the crew start praying. Mila, a shuddering mess, crawled below deck. Rael looked for Az and found him at their side, reaching for their hand. They let him have their arm, kneeling and bringing him close. He rested his head in the crook of Rael’s neck, as they gently caressed his hair.

“Get ready to tack!” The captain called. Rael could almost hear him mutter in a voice nobody could hear over the Rainbow Fire. “Unless they have more magic bullshit, they won’t be able to follow the tack. My baby’s got the agility, and she’s got me. We’ll succeed where Pepper crashed and burned.”

Wait, Pepper what?! Rael felt as if they were going to puke as their insides shivered.

“Tack!”

The ship swerved, but there was no sound aside from the whistling of the depleting balloon. The ship lurched upwards again, as the gravity spell ceased. People looked on in befuddlement as the Rainbow Fire that had split the world in pieces, the massive wall of fire that reached into the heavens simply…stopped. And on the horizon that was once dominated by an impermeable blaze, there was a sliver of land.

“What?” Rael gasped.

To his credit, the captain reacted best. He ignored the world-shattering revelation and finished the tack.

“EYES ON THE MAST, LADS! ESCAPE NOW, CONTEMPLATE LATER!” He screamed, ushering the crew to help secure the swinging mast to the other side, leaving the befuddled Empire ship further behind. They had reached more distance and height when the galleon began to follow in earnest. So it was that the chase continued, along where the Edge of the world used to be. Until someone yelled and pointed at the water deep below. It was turning red, and tempestuous waves began to dance on the surface. Those with their hands free began to look over the edge of the boat, whispering to themselves at the strange sight. The galleon was catching up again, but Rael could see the tiny figures aboard pointing and looking at the same thing they were.

The water bubbled and broiled before going still. For a moment, there was a foreboding quiet and both ships flew with no wind in their sails, reflected in the flat ocean below. Everyone on both ships stopped, feeling as if their souls were being pulled down into the depths. And all at once, the water exploded with spray. All at once, a pillar of hewn bone erupted from the ocean, between the two ships. The grooves of the massive, ossified formation, looking so much like oak bark, began to bleed. Some sprayed blood in jets while others flowed gently, until the entire thing was covered. The blood thickened and congealed into pink flesh and sinew. Silence fell once more, and everyone felt the pressure inside their heads increase. Until someone screamed. Spells were cast to push the sails, weapons were readied, and a few even jumped overboard in sheer panic, fading screams stopping the moment they splattered against the water hundreds of meters below.

The pillar of flesh began to bubble and twist, pustules and contusions forming across the surface. A smaller one burst, rather close to the empire ship, sending a spray of viscous green liquid onto a crew mate who began to shriek as he dissolved into a smoking slurry. Another pimple, the size of three men, burst open to reveal a flailing insectile limb. A twisting muscle tore open to reveal a gaping wound leaking pus. The wind began anew and turned towards the sloop, the crew retching at the pervasive rot cloying into their mouths, their noses, their eyes. The wound began to stitch itself closed with human limbs grabbing onto each other and pulling each other close. Pustules began to erupt, one after another, revealing tumorous masses beating malignantly, swarms of tentacles, and mouths. So many mouths. Some would open with needle-sharp teeth, others would tear open from growing wounds and use mismatched limbs as teeth, gnashing until there was nothing left but bloodied and broken bone, and others still opened with normal teeth, too many teeth, growing over, around and on each other until they began to fall out in cascades of ivory. But the worst was to come.

Tumorous masses erupted into rashes of beady black eyes, and a few more mouths closed almost as if to regurgitate something…only to open again and reveal random assortments of eyes. Sometimes it was just one big slit-pupiled eye. Other times it would open with compound eyes; either a bunch of eyes joined together like grapes on the vine, segmented into one big mass, or different irises sharing the same sclera. The worst part was every eye—goat, serpentine, cat-like, or even human—had the unmistakable glint of intellect, of creativity. There was something far more in those eyes. After all, no mere animal could hold such pure disgust, such derision in their glare. Those were the eyes that reflected a sapience dedicated to loathing all other life. In that moment, all those who saw them knew exactly who it was.

“Yannis.” Rael trembled, tears running down their cheeks.