As it turns out, the airship raid on Varecia was a false alarm. But not for long.

An airship was indeed spotted off the edge of the continent — just one. From a cloud bank to the northwest, It appeared: A small scouting vessel on a provocative heading straight into the heart of Varecia. As our ships at the ledge began to react, it took a hard turn starboard and quickly returned to the cloud bank. We breathed a sigh of relief, but the generals agreed: Nortane was testing our reaction speed to a full-scale invasion.

It wasn’t long before it began in earnest.

Two nights ago, the Nortanian fleet appeared from the southwest, some 30 vessels in total. Ours was slow to react, as our intelligence indicated the fleet was north of Varecia. Caught flat-footed, we were able to halt their advance before they could reach the ledge and begin attacking ground targets. For now, the Queen has taken the general’s advice and allowed the fighting to occur off-ledge. Our plan is simple: keep their ships in the air long enough for their water tankers to run dry. Eventually, the smaller ships will be forced to retreat, leaving the larger ships more vulnerable to attack.

The fighting has been fierce. Unlike the wars against Sarlian, fighting Nortane is an entirely different affair. Avians routinely swarm our ships, looking for any unguarded hatches to infiltrate and cause chaos. Once inside, hand-to-talon combat is a dangerous affair for even our most experienced knights. In a particularly heartbreaking event, the Boylston fell this afternoon after being infiltrated by a small battalion of Hawks. They were able to commandeer the ship and return to Nortanian lines, adding it to their fleet.

To make matters worse, reports of stray Nortanian vessels have been received across the entire western flank of the Kingdom. Hollyhead, Owens Island, and Coleport reported vessels lurking in the clouds. So far, none have strayed close to land, but the threat of an attack has forced us to reposition ships that could be used in the fight to defend Varecia. 95% of the fleet is on the western side of the Kingdom, yet it’s still not enough!

How long can we continue to fight? Nortane’s fleet dwarfs ours in size — those of us with common sense knew a conflict with Nortane was unwinnable. Still, the Queen is adamant that we press on, and President Weatherlight has rejected calls for a cease-fire. I truly fear what the future holds for our Kingdom.

For the moment, I find myself at my office in the palace. Her Majesty has taken her usual seven o’clock break, affording me some valuable time to review the reports coming in from the front. Long shadows are cast across the room by a singular wall-mounted oil lamp, providing a fitting mood for the work I’m conducting. As I sift through the papers, there’s a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I mutter, gazing into the abyss of information.

The door creaks open behind me. When I fail to hear a response, I raise my head to see Finch peeking through the doorframe like a sad puppy in a storefront.

“Oh!” I chirp in relieved surprise. “Hello, Finch. I thought you were someone from upstairs, here to deliver another report.”

Unsurprisingly, Finch is in their red guard uniform with a rapier at their side. They turn a meager smile and ask, “Burning the midnight coal?”

“Just reviewing the latest from the front.’ I say.

Finch looks sullen. Everyone is anxious about the battle occurring off-ledge. “Just wanted to ask if you were interested in joining me for a coffee.”

Intrigued, I gaze at the clock on my wall. We still have another twenty minutes before the Queen finishes her break. Drinking coffee this late is preposterous, but God knows I’ll be up past midnight again. The nights will be long until the battle reaches a conclusion, whatever that conclusion may be.

“Very well, then,” I say, resting my pen by the inkwell. “I could use a walk to stretch my legs.”

I stride into the quiet hallway. All the overhead lighting is powered off, leaving only the wall-mounted oil lamps to guide us to the kitchen. At the end of the hallway, a pair of guards are stationed next to a window; their gaze is drawn skyward by the drone of an airship passing overhead. The palace is calm, but the mood is tense.

I suppose Finch is on their break before the shift change at eight o’clock. The war has been hectic, affording us little time to interact since we returned from our trip to the weald. Consequently, I’ve kept them in the dark regarding the matters the Prince and I uncovered. It’s not that I don’t trust them with such information, but rather, the nature of our discovery is so incredible I struggle to believe they’ll accept it. Princess Asha is the Lithan? You’d have to be mad to accept that.

Much as it is currently, my mind has been restless. I can’t stop thinking about my encounter with the Lithan, and I’m still in shock that it could be the Princess. As I’ve ruminated, some details from the encounter resurfaced in my memory.

If Asha has indeed become a Lithan, then what was the ‘talking’ described by the Beatrix at the Northern Continent? As the Lithan confronted the warship, it began speaking in a language of hisses and growls. Naturally, nobody that day thought to bring a recordable wax cylinder, so I’m left to speculate on what it sounded like. Was the Princess trying to communicate in the Goddess Language?

Perhaps most important was the thunderous noises we heard outside that cursed grove of trees. It wasn’t until yesterday that I realized it could have been Asha teaching herself how to fly. After all, once I arrived in the hollow, I watched the Lithan struggle to gain altitude before a gust of wind caught its wings. Was she trying to relearn the Goddess Language as well? I suppose that makes sense, but if Asha wasn’t feral, then why…

I frown and shake my head. Once again, I’m getting carried away in my thoughts. Ultimately, If there’s one thing I could wish for, it would be to turn back the pages of history and listen in on Calypso and the Princess as they confronted Crow Wing. Oh, the things we could learn! There is no doubt in my mind that Crow Wing was aware of the diamond’s power and indeed may have planned to ambush the Princess once the opportunity arose. If I could only hear their exchange, then perhaps my mind would be at ease.

“Lot on your mind, huh?”

“Oh, yes,” I tell Finch, dragged back into the moment. “Much more than I’d prefer.”

Finch murmurs in agreement. “If you ever need someone to talk to Dunc’, just let me know.”

As we round the corner into another hallway, I give Finch a curious stare.

“Commander,” they correct themselves. Past their uniform, I see their tail twitch uncomfortably.

I smile, hoping to calm their nerves. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Poor Finch. Try as they might, they’re not very good at hiding their crush from me.

I’ve known about it for some time. The way they look at me, their penchant for visiting my office at opportune times… it’s as plain to see as Maki on a clear day. I can’t help but pity them a little; Finch really doesn’t know how to approach someone they like. As for myself, I trust Finch, and I very much appreciated their compassion during my time of need. But beyond that, I feel nothing.

If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that I’m not ready for another relationship. The pain of losing Calypso is still too fresh, and I’m unsure when I’ll feel comfortable seeking a partner. If I’m lucky, then Finch will continue to remain awkward and distant. I would like to avoid any uncomfortable conversations.

Continuing to the kitchen, we say little between ourselves. The coffee from this morning is still warm, albeit burnt. After a brief conversation about our sweetener preferences, Finch offers to escort me back to my office.

We walk through the halls in silence, idly sipping our drinks until we come upon the eastern wing of the building. As we approach the hallway where my office is located, I hear a muffled pounding noise. Who could be pounding things at this hour? As we turn the corner, the source of the disturbance becomes clear: Two palace guards, a Ruffy and a Fisher, are trying to enter my office by force. Standing next to them is a Marten and a Ringtail. I recognize the Ringtail as Lieutenant Tobin and the Marten as someone I dread. He notices me, and his face goes wide in shock.

“There he is!” Orlando shouts, pointing squarely at me.

The guards, dressed in the same uniform as Finch, turn about and begin marching down the hall. They have a certain glint in their eyes, one that begets intimidation.

Finch recoils in surprise. “Wha—?”

“What is this?” I ask aloud.

“Commander Almandoz!” The Fisher shouts. “By the orders of Her Majesty the Queen, I am placing you under arrest. Please, do not resist!”

Stunned into silence, I find no words to object as the guards trudge forward. Everything is happening so fast that I can’t think straight. I-Is this because of the serpentine diamond? Because I brought it to Mother’s house?

“What!?” Finch gasps. The guards stop a few feet in front of us. “U-Under what charges?”

“Sedition and conspiracy,” Orlando answers, appearing at the Ruffy’s side. “Now, please. Place him in restraints.”

The guards nod and begin to search their coats for handcuffs.

Sedition and conspiracy?! For what?! Performing my duties faithfully for twelve years? My ears flick in annoyance. If those are indeed the charges, then they aren’t pursuing me for the diamond. This is plain and simple nonsense, and Orlando is the crux of it. The last time we met, Prince Sofl humiliated him before a crowd of gawking onlookers. Now he’s back with a litany of false charges to exact his revenge!

But… why is Tobin here? How did he manage to con a Lieutenant of the Air Squadron into his scheme, much less one favorable to me?

“What is this nonsense?!” I shout, stamping my foot against the ground. “If I am being detained, then show me the papers!”

“Papers are unnecessary in wartime,” the arrogant Marten sighs. “And before you object — yes, the charges against you are so grave that you must be apprehended immediately.”

On a day when justice is blind, papers must presented to an individual being arrested that explain why they’re being detained. There is indeed a mechanism for doing so without a paper trail, and it’s called martial law. While the war has come uncomfortably close to Varecia, the municipal police force is still in control of the city. Something else is at play here, something much bigger than me.

I glance at the once faithful Tobin and scowl, “Who are these guards? I’ve never seen them in the palace before,” I pause and glance at the Ruffy. “Who is your superior officer?”

“He is,” the Ruffy mutters, motioning to Tobin with his tail .

“Commander,” Tobin finally responds, his voice penitent. He looks at me in the eyes and says, “Please, don’t resist. This is a fight you can’t win.”

The way he spoke… Tobin fully believes in himself. But as I realize why, my stomach churns: Tobin has been compromised. No member of the Air Squadron would turn on their own, certainly not a loyal officer like him. And the worst part is that Orlando is behind this. I can see it in their faces — Tobin’s penance and Orlando’s smug confidence. The power structure is as plain as an obedient dog.

For a fleeting moment, I consider following his advice. If Tobin had confided such things to me in private, I might be more receptive. But I will never submit to such blatant corruption with the threat of violence hanging over me.

Quickly, I give Finch a sidelong glance. Their tail is drooped behind them; they must be as alarmed as I am. Do they realize there’s something much bigger at play? Something that threatens the royal family and the Kingdom itself? I wish I could tell them to follow my lead, but an uneasy glance will have to do. I hope to God they understand.

“No,” I say, pulling down my vest. “I have done nothing wrong. Tell me what’s going on, Tobin.”

Tobin’s face moves in subtle ways. After taking a moment to gather his voice, he says, “The only thing that’s happening is your apprehension, Commander. Please don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be,” he pauses to look at Finch and swallows. “I expect your cooperation as well, Ensign.”

My frown deepens. Appealing to reason was worth a try, but it predictably failed. Me and Finch are on our own, but that doesn’t mean I have to take this willingly.

“No!” I object, raising my voice so everyone nearby can hear me. “A Commander of the Air Squadron is being detained by two palace guards nobody has ever seen before, a Lieutenant, and one arrogant landlord?” I scoff so loud my chest burns. “No! I will not comply with such transparent nonsense!”

What a laughable ruse. A Commander of the Air Squadron is being detained for sedition and conspiracy, but only two palace guards and a Lieutenant are there to apprehend him? Someone like me demands the presence of the Legion of Dragons, not a pair of combat-starved rookies. This is the novice mistake an arrogant man like Orlando would make.

The Marten’s fur bristles. “Alright, fine. We can do things the hard way. Mister Ciro, if you would, please?”

The Ruffy draws his rapier and grins, “With pleasure.”

Instinctively, Finch and I retreat a step. If anyone in the palace heard my mockery, then they’ve decided not to save us.

“Whoa, hey now!” Finch whines, holding their free hand up in front of them. The Ruffy hesitates and looks to Tobin for advice.

“Ensign,” Tobin says, stiffening his voice. “Help restrain the Commander.”

Finch exhales a curt breath. They remain motionless, staring at Tobin with conflict scrawled across their face.

The Ringtailed Lieutenant reiterates, “That’s an order, Officer Roland”

“You’d do well to listen to the Lieutenant. Unless you want to join the Commander in prison?”

As Orlando spoke, I felt a tail tap against my back. I tense my muscles in preparation.

“Damnit!” Finch growls. They take an uneasy step away from me and draw their rapier. “C-commander Almandoz!! I’m ordering you to—“

With a flick of their wrist, hot coffee is cast into the faces of the turncoat guards. As I watch the scalding hot liquid impact, I add my own coffee to the equation, flinging it against Orlando and Tobin’s chest. Time slows as the guards wail in pain, and coffee dutifully ruins the landlord’s wardrobe.

“RUN!”

The guards recover, growling in fury as Finch engages them with their blade. For a breathless moment, I hesitate. I thought Finch was going to flee alongside me. They can’t possibly…!

I stifle my emotions and turn to run as fast as my legs will carry me. My life is in danger. I have to get out of here. I need to find someone else on my side. But who? Could others in the palace have been compromised? Who can I trust? Who’s my enemy?

Calypso’s rapier. It’s in my office, and he trained me well. If I can just—

“AGH!!”

A yowl splits the air like a buzzsaw. I spin around to find Finch collapsing to the ground, cut down a rapier to their sternum.

“FINCH!!”

Before I can react any further, something forceful grabs me from behind. Instinctively, I try to fight back with my fists but am quickly subdued by someone far stronger than me. A pair of arms, clad in the distinct, red velvet uniform of the palace guard, drag me to the ground and sucker punch me in the stomach. I cry out as pain lances my insides, and another pair of arms holds me firmly against the carpet.

Throbbing in pain and unable to clench my stomach, my eyes lazily focus on the scene down the hall. Finch is in a similar state as me, yowling in misery as they lie on the ground in a puddle of their own blood. Above them is Orlando, lazily wiping his down coat with a cloth while giving Finch a look of askance.

“Get a nurse for her,” Orlando growls in annoyance.

The Fisher nods. “Yes, sir.”

That bastard!! My fingers curl against the carpet, and I feel a familiar rage festering inside my heart, one I haven’t felt since I confronted Father. Argh, damnit! What the HELL is going on?! How is…!

“Orlando,” I seethe. “I’ll see to it you’re ruined for this!”

He turns to me, retrained against the ground, and a coy grin grows across his muzzle. “Commander, the only thing you’ll be seeing are the cold walls of your jail cell.”

As he chuckles in amusement, I catch a glimpse of Tobin crouching above Finch. Is he trying to offer assistance? Why?! Ugh, that treacherous bastard!! How could he swear an oath of loyalty to the Kingdom and still…

A horrendous revelation comes across me. If Tobin has been compromised, then the palace — nay, the upper echelons of the Crown itself — can no longer be trusted. The Royal Family is in danger!! The Kingdom itself could be at risk!!

Orlando checks his watch, turns, and begins a slow saunter away from us, his tail swaying in satisfaction. “Get him out of here.”

A pair of hands snatch my ears and drag me to my feet. I shriek in pain before another force pushes me forward and begins dragging me through the hall. Held by my shoulders, I can only see the arms of my captors. Though they bear the uniform of the palace guard, I’m certain they’re outsiders. They must be in cahoots with the same turncoats who attacked Finch. Just how deep does this deception go?

Carted through the halls in silence, I notice we’re headed in the wrong direction. I know the protocols — if someone were arrested inside the palace, they would be taken to the detention cells in the basement until the proper authorities arrived. Instead, it seems I’m being led to the front door of the building. Why?

“Where are you taking me?” I demand.

As we approach the gilded front doors, my captors remain silent.

“Well? Answer me!”

Instead of responding, they only tighten their grip on my shoulder. Strong hands push me around a corner, and the grand, gilded doors of the palace entrance come into view. On a regular day, one would expect these doors to be secured by no less than three members of the palace guard. But today, it’s silent, and not so much as an oil lamp is lit.

The doors swing open with a metallic racket, crashing against the sides of the building. Gazing across the front lawn, I see the heart of Varecia, looking every bit as normal as it possibly could on a night when war is at its doorstep. Does anyone know about the treachery occurring in the palace? I’d cry out for help, but it’s clear there’s nobody here on my side. In the roundabout lies a single, unmarked steam carriage with two shadowy figures sitting in the rear compartment. Outside the carriage are two Martens clad in black, guarding the doors with stern expressions. Based on their body language, it’s clear the figures in the carriage are being detained. And they from the palace, too?

“An unmarked carriage?” I scoff as I’m dragged down a set of stairs. “What is this non—“

“Shut UP!”

The clenched fist of my captor reaches out to sock me square in the stomach. I scream, reeling from the hit before another fist collides with my jaw. Instantly, my senses become muddled. Instincts scream as I feel my body tumble into a free fall, but the impact with the ground never arrives. When awareness returns, I find myself at the bottom of the stairs, my whole body reeling in unimaginable pain. Air raid sirens have begun to wail across the city, signaling a fresh attack on Varecia.

At that moment, everything slides into place. Orlando isn’t exacting some kind of petty revenge against me. This is a coup! A real, god damn coup attempt! All my sensibilities compel me to fight back, to somehow resist my captors and warn the royal family... but it’s hopeless. I can barely move in my current state, much less stand up and return to the palace. As I revel in horror, footsteps approach from behind.

“Fucking cottontail,” a voice hisses. “Get the door open.”

“Right,” says the other.

I wail in pain as a pair of hands drags me to my feet without any regard for my injuries. A figure stands before me, and my eyes focus. The Marten helps the one behind me, dragging me across the roundabout towards the steam carriage. When we arrive, he steps away and greets the figure in black before reaching to open the door. I feel myself propped up, and my body turned around.

The sky above the palace is black, free of Maki’s pale glow. Even the lighting outside the palace is conspicuously turned off, leaving only the faint glow of the city lights to illuminate the palace’s facade. As my eyes adjust, something catches my attention. Winged figures, clad in black, are descending from the sky to land on the roof of the palace!

“Hey!” I shout. “H-HEY! There are Avians on the roof! Crow Wing is raiding the palace!!”

The man restraining me scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“Can’t you see them?! Crow Wing is here!! The royal family is—“

Something blunt strikes the back of my head. For a fleeting moment, I feel stark pain and the sensation of free fall, but my body never touches the ground. Senses uncouple from consciousness, the world detaches in a heartbeat, and my soul descends into darkness.`