Foes and Heirs: Segment Three: The Dangerous Life

SEGMENT THREE: THE DANGEROUS LIFE

"*Never was anything great achieved without danger*."

**10: New Plan**

For Daiyu, the morning couldn’t have come quickly enough. The sun
shone from outside her cabin window, and she blinked in the startling light –
even as she began to hear bumps from around the rest of the ship. Was it the
others? Probably. It must have been. Suddenly slightly afraid, she rolled out
of her bed – having taken one of the room that had an actual, physical bed –
and crept to the door. The footsteps grew louder. It had to be them. It had to
be them. She opened the door just in time to see Azura trotting past. She was
saying something – Daiyu wasn’t sure what – and it helped her to relax. Yes.
Azura was out and about, and it was just the people she knew and trusted on the
ship.

Well, almost.

It was just as she had this thought that she caught sight of said
thought’s… reason for being thought? Did that make sense? In any case, the girl
that Loden and Iamos had brought back with them was walking down the ship’s
hallway. She was wearing the same clothes as the previous day – various shades
of white and grey, sophisticated embroidery, pretty-looking flats. She was
obviously very wealthy, which was only made more apparent by how she carried
herself. Her chin was turned up, as though she viewed the world by looking down
on it. Her arms were by her sides, not stiff and yet not swinging in any sort
of unsophisticated fashion. She reminded Daiyu quite a bit of the various…
other well-off people she had met. It was disconcerting.

And it also made her more curious about what had actually happened
the previous day. Loden and Iamos had been gone far longer than they said they
would, they hadn’t returned with any food – which was a shame, as Daiyu had
become used to actually eating regular meals – and they had brought this
stranger with them. And where exactly had this girl come from? It would have
been one thing if they had found someone off the streets like her, but this
was… this had to be explainable. She *needed*
an explanation.

After waiting for a moment, letting the other girl walk past, she
silently made her way to the upstairs room, with the table. It was where, like,
meetings had happened previously, right? It made sense for someone to be there
now, if anywhere. Someone had to be planning to tell her and Azura what had
happened soon. But what *had* happened?

Before her mind could take her to any of the dark possibilities
she might have thought up, she focused on the sound of voices coming from the
top of the stairs she had arrived at. One was feminine, and shouting quite
loudly. She couldn’t really discern the others beyond masculinity. Trotting up
the stairs, she was encountered by a sight that was either funny or scary. She
couldn’t decide.

Azura was sprawled forwards onto the circular table in the centre
of the room, lying on top of it on her front – as if she had jumped forward
onto it. Had she? She might have. She seemed like the sort of person who would.
Her arms were stretched out, her fists grabbing onto the lapels of Loden’s
jacket. Ah – Loden! He was sitting opposite her, looking somewhat panicked, as
the younger girl pulled him closer to the table. She looked up into his eyes
with her own (presumably – Daiyu was behind her, and could only see her head
rising).

“You have to tell me!” She was saying. “Tell me everything! I want
to know what happened!”

Loden seemed about to say something to her, but then he caught
sight of Daiyu, who had frozen at the top of the stairs, observing the scene.
He gave a startlingly lazy wave with one hand.

“Hey, Daiyu.” He said. Azura’s head whipped around to stare at
Daiyu, who began to feel very intimidated.

“You want to hear what happened, as well, right?” She garbled,
tightening her grip on Loden’s jacket. Both Loden and Daiyu winced, and the
latter held up her hands in what she *hoped*
was a placating gesture.

“Even if I do, I’m not strangling Loden over it.” She pointed out,
truthfully. “I… well, I’m sure that Loden and Iamos plan to tell us what
happened. At least, I *hope* so.” She
trailed off. Could she have sounded accusatory, or otherwise implicating? She
hadn’t meant to. Hopefully Loden hadn’t taken it that way. She breathed in. She
breathed out. She continued. “But we need to let them get to that… telling
stage at their own pace, you know?”

“But this is big!” Pointed out Azura, shaking Loden’s jacket and
pulling him back and forth. “There are four of us, and now there’s five! That’s
a twenty-five percent increase!” Her eyes suddenly narrowed – whether in
thought or in anger, Daiyu didn’t know. “Plus, that girl they brought back with
them looked weird. What was she wearing, anyway?”

It took a second for Daiyu to grasp what Azura meant. “Did you
mean… she looked rich? As in, wealthy?”

Azura considered this. Then nodded. “Yeah.”

Daiyu considered this. She had looked quite wealthy, yes. Like one
of the people who would live in large estate houses or palaces, separate
themselves from the rest of society because they were able. Now that this
perspective had been brought back to her attention, her prime instinct was a
wave of curiosity. If this girl was one of those people, then the fact that she
had come back with the boys was all the more extraordinary. She found it
unlikely that anyone would be willing to leave that life behind. What had
happened?

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Daiyu gave a start and fell backwards – the girl was standing on
the stairs, looking across the room with an expression of what looked to be
schooled indifference, typical of the ones usually worn by people like her. How
had she managed to get so close without Daiyu hearing her? Had she just been
distracted? Her heart was thudding against her chest, and her fingers trembled
slightly from adrenaline. She licked her dry lips, and forced herself to calm
down. It was ok. It was ok. It was *ok*.

“It’s you!” Azura stared at the girl as if she had just confessed
to a murder.

“It’s me.” Agreed the girl, walking past Daiyu – walking seemed
too ungainly a description, it was like she was effortlessly gliding across the
floor – and sitting down at the ship’s round table. She eyed Loden, wearily.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Loden rubbed the back of his neck as everyone’s gaze turned back
to him.

“Uh… yeah.” He sighed. “The hyperactive one here is Azura. She’s
our youngest. And Iamos’ sister.”

Azura stuck out her arm, fist clenched and pointed forwards.
“Welcome aboard our ship!” Her mouth was set like an apple slice – upturned,
with implications of sweetness. The girl, after a moment’s hesitation, reached
forward and daintily shook Azura’s arm up and down, in something of a one-sided
handshake. If anyone else had done it, it probably would have looked ungainly
and awkward. The girl, however – she still managed to look refined. As though
she were in firm control of the situation.

Loden rolled his eyes. “And, yeah, the other one’s Daiyu.”

“Daiyu?” The girl repeated, rising from her seat to greet Daiyu,
who was hit with a wave of guilt for not going over to her before she had to rise.
“A pleasure.”

She held out a dainty hand. Daiyu tentatively grasped it in her
own, only to find it surprisingly firm – not only was her grip stronger than
expected, but her skin wasn’t nearly as soft as Daiyu had thought it would be,
either. A very faint smile flashed across the girl’s face as their hands shook
once before the connection was severed. What was that all about?

“Anyway, this is… uh…” Loden trailed off, before turning to the
girl. “You’ll want to do your own introduction, I presume?”

“You presume correctly.” The girl said, a hint of teasing in her
voice. All of her emoting, Daiyu noted, seemed to be very reserved and minute.
Not that she was as emotionless as she might have appeared, but she had to be
supressing a lot. But why? What reason could she have had for having such a
tight grasp on her emotions? Unless she was simply naturally unemotive. That
was possible too, right?

“Daiyu.” A voice drew her out of her thoughts. “Azura.” Continued
the girl, making eye contact with each of them in turn before lowering her head
and speaking almost solemnly. “My name is Motokami Ame Miyuki. I am the
daughter of Motokami Ame Ryo, the emperor of the Cheinise provinces.” She rose
to meet them again. “I am a princess of this land.”

There was a silence for a moment, and then Loden grumbled.

“I thought you may have wanted to keep that to yourself.” He
admitted. “Now matter how bad of a father your own may be – he’s still the
emperor, and you’re still the princess, so action’s going to be taken to get
you back.”

“I would gain nothing by keeping my identity a secret from these
two.” Miyuki argued. “From strangers, I understand, but these are your crew. I
don’t know how much time I shall spend here, and it’s not something that ought
to be revealed by someone else further down the line.”

She may have had more to say on that matter, but at this moment
her words hit their audience. Azura’s intake of breath was so deep and sharp,
Daiyu couldn’t believe that her lungs would be able to hold so much air. Then,
she began to speak.

“Oh my God.” She began to say, grasping the table and jumping up
and down, several times. For Daiyu, it trod the line between endearing and
unsettling. “She’s a princess she’saprincess*she’saprincess*-”
– she stopped, one of her legs still bouncing up and down. She indicated
wordlessly to Miyuki for several seconds with her arms, waving them up and down
in her direction. Her excitement was palpable, as though it were a physical
thing.

“W – what’s it like?” She gasped, stars in her eyes. Miyuki seemed
– understandably – a little surprised by Azura’s enthusiasm, but after a
moment, she relaxed, and let a full smile blossom across her face. Which was
odd, noted. Daiyu. Why was she now showing an emotion so openly?

“It’s nice.” She admitted, with the air of a parent or carer
talking to a child. Age-wise, this may well have been plausible, but the
illusion was slightly shattered by the fact that Azura was obviously the taller
of the two. Nevertheless, she spoke in a maternal-esque fashion. “There are a lot
of expectations, and a lot of people watching, which can be hard. But you get
to see amazing things. And if you’re good, history will remember you.”

Azura nodded enthusiastically, head practically a blur as it moved
up and down. Was she taking it all in, or was it all going over her head in the
rush? Daiyu couldn’t tell. The girl seemed to be enjoying herself either way,
though, so… oh well.

“Do people do everything for you?” She continued. Was she getting
even more excited? Her words were becoming less discernible as they shot out of
her mouth like cannon fire.

“So often that you wish you could do it for yourself, after a
time.” Miyuki nodded sagely.

Was Azura even speaking words anymore? A high-pitched, excited,
exclamation was coming out of her mouth as she jumped up and down. Whatever it
was, it lasted for several seconds – long enough for Daiyu to wish that she
could cover her ears without looking rude.

“…How are you here with us?” She eventually squealed. She was
quite the sight, hopping from foot to foot as she stared expectantly at Miyuki,
who was able to continue to patiently smile. What had brought on this change in
attitude? She had seemed so… uncaring, before.

Miyuki brought one finger to her chin, in a show of thought.
“Well, it’s a long story.” Her eyes flickered to Loden, and her smile grew a
tiny bit wider. “I suppose you could refer to it as a daring rescue.”

Azura gasped again, turning to Loden and back to Miyuki. “A *rescue*!”

Miyuki tittered. “I am afraid that I cannot recount the entire tale
right now. There are some pressing matters to be attended to first.” She leant
forward, and stared Azura in the eyes. “But I promise you, when I have the
opportunity, I will tell you the entire story. Does that sound fair?”

“…Yes!” Azura fumbled with her body for a moment before sinking
into a clumsy curtsey. “…My lady!”

Miyuki laughed again. “No need for that, Azura. “Miyuki” is alright.”

“Okay!” Azura nodded to show that she had understood, before her
gaze started flickering around. She began to bound towards the stairs. “I’m
going to go check on the engines again!”

“Alrighty.” Loden waved her off. “Take care.”

“See you later!” Azura waved before vaulting down the stairs,
landing with a metal clang. A moment passed – metal clangs could be heard
getting ever-louder as she hurriedly ran back up the stairs. Her head popped
over the top of the floor, from where she hit Miyuki with one last sunshine-y
grin. “It was really nice to meet you, princess!”

“Miyuki.” The princess reminded, smiling back in kind as she gave
a dainty wave. Azura nodded, then ducked down the stairs again. The sound of
her footsteps quickly faded. Without the girl’s presence, the room suddenly
felt very empty. *Definitely* a lot
quieter. As she listened, Daiyu realised that the ship must have landed again –
the hum that could be heard when in the air, which Daiyu had assumed was from
the mechanics of the engines, couldn’t be heard.

Miyuki’s shoulders sagged slightly, and her face returned to one
of indifference. Had it all been an act, then? Daiyu found that she wasn’t sure
whether that disappointed her or not.

“Sorry about that.” Loden smirked as Miyuki moved back towards the
table and sat down again.

To Daiyu’s surprise, Miyuki smiled again.

“Don’t be.” She said. “As a matter of fact, I actually enjoy
talking to children and younger people a great deal.”

“Why?” Daiyu blurted out before she could stop herself –
mortified, she slapped a hand to her mouth, but Miyuki didn’t seem to take
offence at her interruption.

“Some of the most earnest people I have ever met have been
children.” She explained. “No hidden agendas, no dark thoughts. They always
seem to mean well, and it is refreshing when they do not take everything so
seriously.” She waved a hand. “Adults are always overthinking matters, trying
to outwit and double-think one another into submission. Children-” she paused.
“Or maybe it’s not fair to call her a child. I don’t know exactly how old she
is. But she has that quality of childlike wonder and innocence – at least, that
is what I see. In any case, people like her say what’s on their mind. They’re
honest, and kind. After all of my experiences, it’s…” she seemed to genuinely
search for the right words. “Refreshing.” She eventually decided.

“Makes sense.” Loden shrugged, before folding his arms as he leant
backwards in his chair. It was a precarious position, and Daiyu couldn’t help
but worry that he might topple backwards, but he seemed confident enough. “You
said that “pressing matters” needed to be attended to?”

“Indeed I did, prince of nonsense.” Miyuki declared, smiling at
him before schooling her face into a more intense expression of experience.
Prince of nonsense? Where had that come from? Loden wasn’t reacting badly, so…
maybe it was an inside joke? In any case, Daiyu dismissed the issue. It was
obvious that something more important was being discussed. “You see,” continued
the princess, “I… well, no, I’ll start with this: thank you.” She faced the two
(mostly Loden). “Thank you for allowing me to join you, or – at the very least
– tolerating my presence. That being said…” She turned directly to Loden, now.
“You were right. My father will try to get me back, and he will be relentless
in doing so.” She sighed. “Which is why we have to leave the country.”

“Leave it?” Loden repeated, sounding incredulous. Daiyu couldn’t
blame him. It sounded like a drastic proposal.

“Once we cross a border, we will be out of his jurisdiction.”
Clarified Miyuki, extending a hand in a placating gesture. “What were you going
to do with this ship? We could adjust it, or come to a compromise?”

“We…” Loden trailed off, frowning. Daiyu nervously viewed him,
then Miyuki, then decided to speak again.

“We didn’t have a plan, as far as I know.” She confessed. Feeling
Miyuki’s gaze turn to her, she flinched. “We… we used the ship to escape from
a… from our village after it was destroyed. We don’t have any sort of plan.”

Miyuki steepled her hands together and leant back in her chair as
she processed this, before leaning forward again to address her audience.

“As empty as it may sound, know that I am sorry for what happened
to you.” She said, voice low and solemn. Daiyu nodded acknowledgement – Loden
said nothing. “But…” She continued, “this *does*
mean that you can leave the country. Technically.”

There was no immediate reply. She sighed.

“Believe me, I want to stay. It is important for me to interact
with, and understand, the people of my country. But if my father catches me,
this will have all been for nothing. He will take me back to Phek-Kai, and
place me under heavier guard than before. This is my only chance to see the
world.” She turned to look towards the ceiling, as though she were speaking as
much to herself as her audience. “I am the caged bird that has fled the cage.
Someday, I shall return. But the knowledge and experience that I could gain by
prolonging the inevitable…!” She trailed off. The words remained unsaid. To
Daiyu, at least, her point had been made. But the decision wasn’t hers. She
turned to Loden, who shrugged.

“Don’t know if it’s our call, to be honest.” He admitted. “We’ll
have to check with the others, to see what they think. But…” He stopped
talking, and raised his head to meet Miyuki’s eyes. The two stared at one
another with a certain intensity. “Miyuki, I get it. And I think that we can
give it a try.”

There was no overstated celebration, and no dramatic embraces. But
Daiyu was still able to sense from Miyuki a feeling of palpable gratitude.

“Thank you.” She dipped her head humbly, the power of the two
words resonating with Daiyu and almost sending shivers down her spine. Loden,
for his part, simply winked.

“No problem, princess.”

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

Two hours later, Iamos finally awoke from his slumber. Upon
hearing a groaning from the room that he had claimed, Daiyu wandered to the
door and gently tapped on the metal. She was met with a sleepy “Yeah?”

“You’re awake, then?” She asked, trying to keep the tremor out of
her voice. As much as she wanted to befriend Iamos (and, to a certain extent,
she *had*), there was still that
underlying current of fear from when the had first met. How little effort had
it taken to trap her? Could he do it again? What else would drive him to it?
Granted, it was mostly irrational. She had discerned enough about his
personality by this point to understand that he would never do something like
that without good reason, and that he felt no ill will towards her. But there
was still a small part of her subconscious that could only view him with fear.

“…Yes.” He said, before opening the door. He blinked wearily as he
itched the side of his chin, where a thin layer of stubble had grown after days
of neglect. He – he wasn’t wearing a shirt. *He*
wasn’t wearing a shirt. *Daiyu clapped a hand over her eyes as she felt heat*
rush to her cheeks. Was he okay with that? Had she crossed a line? Had she
invaded his privacy?

“You alright? Didn’t you want something?” Iamos continued to talk.
Either he couldn’t detect her embarrassment, or he didn’t care. She exhaled
sharply through her nose, making a snap decision to bite the bullet.

“Are you alright with me seeing you without a shirt?” She managed
to say without gabbling or choking up the words. She couldn’t see Iamos’
expression (still covering her eyes), and there was a petrifying moment of
silence before he replied to her question.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

She uncovered one eye, spreading her fingers apart across her
face. “Are you sure?”

Iamos nodded, looking down at himself before – was he meeting her
eyes? No, not quite, but it was still jarring to see his gaze relatively in
line with hers. He was, she decided, looking past her head. Not quite eye
contact, but there was something notable – and somewhat flattering – about the
effort that he appeared to be making. “I’m not really bothered by that stuff, I
guess. Apparently, when I was younger, Rainer had to keep reminding me to put
clothes on, because it wouldn’t… uh, it wouldn’t register with me.” His face
visibly fell, and Daiyu winced at the mention of the old man. They still had no
idea if he had survived or not.

“So…” She tried, awkwardly, to fill the silence. “Does it
embarrass you at all?”

He shrugged. “I guess I grew into a little bit of
self-consciousness. But people just seeing my chest doesn’t bother me.” He
frowned, suddenly. “Wait, does it bother you?”

“Huh?” She was taken aback by the change in the conversation’s
direction. Did it bother her? “I – I mean, I didn’t… I didn’t want to embarrass
you, that was my main worry.” She stuttered.

“Does it bother you?” He repeated in almost the exact same tone,
only he placed a bit more emphasis on the question.

“A… a little.” She admitted, blushing again. “But only because I’m
not used to it!”

Iamos almost stumbled over himself as he backed out of view,
poking his head round the door whilst hiding his torso. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok!” She gasped. “Really!”

“I’m sorry!” He said, again, before shutting the door with a
metallic clang. Daiyu stood stock-still in place for a moment, unsure how to
react, before dragging her hands down her face in mortification. Her toes had
curled inwards inside her shoes from the embarrassment. She must have stood
there for several seconds in a semi-petrified state before the door opened
again. Iamos reappeared – this time, the purple shirt was slung over his chest.

“I… just realised.” He mumbled, now looking down at the floor (as
usual). “You, uh… you wanted something, right? Was there… was there a reason
for coming to see me?”

“…Yeah.” Daiyu’s voice was a whisper. For her part, she couldn’t
look him in the eyes either. “It’s about where we’re heading next.”

Iamos sighed, as his body began to lose tension. She heard him
inhale, then exhale. “Yeah, alright. Makes sense. I’m the pilot.” He
straightened up again, clenching his fists by his sides as he rose to his full
height, as though he were shrouding himself in confidence. He turned to Daiyu.
“So, uh, where *are* we headed?”

Daiyu recalled Miyuki’s words. “*we have to leave the country*”, she had said. But Iamos wasn’t one
for change – she knew that now, she thought. How would he react…?

She was jolted out of her thoughts by the sight of him staring
intensely at her. His eyes were actually making contact with hers. A deep
cerulean, like an ocean, they had an indescribable piercing quality. It was as
though she were being stripped bare, removed of all secrets or lies, and her
soul was in his sights. She shook her head to clear the thoughts. He was
speaking.

“You don’t want to tell me.” He said, frowning. “Is it that bad?”

He could… tell? How she was feeling?

“…We have to fly out of the country.” She admitted. “So that
Miyuki’s father doesn’t take her back.”

Iamos closed his eyes. For a fleeting moment, his face contorted
into something painful, but then it relaxed again, and he opened his eyes again
– though they weren’t looking at her any more.

“I figured it was something like that.” He admitted. “At least, I
figured we’d have to pretty far to get away from the Emperor. Did everyone else
think it’s a good idea?”

Daiyu nodded. “And, once we’re across a border, we won’t be under
his jurisdiction.” She repeated. He nodded back.

“Got it.”

The next thing he did was to pull a fast-becoming familiar piece
of parchment from his pocket, tied up in a bright green cord. His master’s map.
Unfurling it to its full length – the size of a large scroll, or thereabouts –
he held one end in either hand, stretching the whole thing out until it filled
up most of his vision. Daiyu watched, expectant. Suddenly, Iamos said with such
an authority and clarity that it made her jump:

“Map. Show me the quickest route to the nearest national border.”

A very faint scratching to be heard, like distant pen over faded
parchment. Daiyu didn’t have a proper view of what was happening, but she could
see dark shapes appear on the other side of the map, implying that something
was being drawn on the front. What was happening? She stepped back, both
figuratively and literally, to examine the map in a new light. Though she
wasn’t sure what was happening, she believed that she could guess. Was the map…
changing based on Iamos’ instructions? His wants?

Did it have something to do with the man from the village? Daiyu
remembered Iamos saying something about the map, as though it were important.
Then she remembered the fire, and then she shuddered, breaking herself out of
her memories. Iamos was already marching ahead. She almost tripped over her own
feet following as they made their way to the cockpit. Iamos wasted no time in
sitting down in the pilot’s seat, positioning the map on top of some dials so
that he could see it. Daiyu sat beside him in the adjoining seat.

“Iamos, are you sure about this?” She asked, coming to a sudden
realisation. “You’ve been doing a lot of flying already, don’t you want to-”

“What time is it?” Iamos interrupted. Daiyu obediently peered
through the cockpit’s glass at the sun.

“It looks like early in the afternoon.” She said. “Do you think
you’ve gotten enough sleep, then?”

“If it’s the afternoon, then I’ve slept for upwards of twelve
hours.” Iamos revealed, flicking switches and pulling on the wheel that seemed to
control the ship’s steering. The Origin jolted to life. The hum of the engine returned
– a constant, soft background noise. “I’m good to go.”

Before Daiyu could say anything else, Iamos tugged on the wheel again,
and slammed his leg down. The Origin began to drive forwards before lifting off
into the sky. As Daiyu clutched onto her chair to balance herself, she suddenly
noticed a button she hadn’t observed before. Frowning, she edged her finger towards
it. What if it was dangerous? What if it wasn’t? She pressed it before she could
change her mind. It brightened up a colour, but nothing happened.

“What did you-” Iamos’ question was cut off as it became apparent what
she had done. His voice should have only been in the cockpit, but now they could
hear it from outside the room, booming down the corridor. If Daiyu had to guess,
it would be carried all around the ship.

“I think it’s to let you talk to everyone at once.” She revealed, in
wonder. Her voice, too, carried everywhere at once. The Origin, it seemed, still
had surprises in store. Just what kind of vessel was this?

“Cool.” Iamos muttered, before speaking louder. “Okay, everyone. After
consideration of a passenger’s requests, we are heading for the nearest border –
once we’ll cross over it, we’ll be in an area called the “Icy Wastes”. Rough estimates
are that it’ll be…” He frowned. “At least a couple of days.”

He glanced towards the horizon, and his frown turned into something
lighter. A confident smile that Daiyu didn’t think she had seen on him before.

“But we’ll get there.” He assured them.

**11: Hostile North**

The wind was surprisingly quiet, all things considered. This may,
she thought in an admitting manner, be attributed to the fact that she was
inside the Origin – from the inside, external noises were severely limited,
with the only sign that the weather was as bad as it was being the constant
deluge of snowflakes pattering against the windows; a flock of angry snowbirds,
waving their wings against the glass as she watched. Her eyes scanned the pale
horizon. The ground was snow-covered, the sky was cloud-covered. The sights
morphed together to create the illusion of an empty world, devoid of everything
from life to colour. Of course, she knew that all she had to do was look out of
a window on the other side of the vessel to see civilisation, of a sort. A week
after leaving the city of Phek-Kai – four days of flying, three days of rest
and finding supplies – the Origin had settled down on the outskirts of a
snow-covered town somewhere in the lands north of the Cheinise border,
collectively known as the Icy Wastes.

She bit into an apple. A pair of her earrings had been traded in
for three baskets of them, and the cold environment had helped to keep them
preserved – one of the baskets, as it happened, was buried in the snow outside
the ship. She had initially feared that the crew themselves would suffer in the
cold, but as it turned out, being inside the Origin was like being in a room
with a fire. Part of the strange technology of the ship appeared to be the ability
to keep warm its inhabitants. Whilst mostly a mystery to her (it was Azura,
after all, who had taken it upon herself to figure out how the mechanics of the
ship functioned), she wasn’t going to question the turn of good fortune.

A raven flew by the window. As she swallowed the apple, she stared
at it for the brief moment it was visible. A pure black coat, flecked with
specks of white from the incessant snowflakes, as though someone had immaturely
flicked paint onto its form. Eyes the same colour as its back, mad banquets of
darkness that it used to hunt. Ravens, she had been told, were the spirits of
her ancestors, appearing in a physical form to watch over her. Had she seen any
proof of this, technically? No. But she hadn’t seen any proof to the contrary,
either – she considered her mind open to the possibility. She frowned.
Auspicious or inauspicious, she wasn’t sure, but if that really *had* one of her distant relatives, then
they had to be there for a reason. She resolved herself to being ready for whatever
may have been coming her way, before taking another bite of the apple.

Her trip so far, she mused as she ate, had been quite the
success. After arriving in the town (following an escape from her father’s area
of jurisdiction), she had taken opportunities to venture out of the ship, and
interact with the town’s inhabitants. It wasn’t as though she had been
particularly short of options, to be fair. A lot of food was needed to keep
five people sated, and everyone had been in want of some clothing good for
keeping out the new cold weather. As a matter of fact, Loden and Daiyu had,
just that morning, left to go and find some good snow boots for everyone. In
any case, as well as being present for the transactions and handling of her
belongings as they were traded for supplies that the crew needed, she had also
taken the chance to talk to as many people as possible. It was a little
jarring, so many new faces, but she had been able to adapt to her new
circumstances, she wanted to say, relatively well.

The people of the north were definitely not cut from the
same cloth as the nobles that she had known back in Phek-Kai (though that
should have been obvious from the outset). Increase in volume and cursing
aside, the extent to which they were willing to speak their mind was incredible
compared to what she had seen in the past. Arguments were not drawn out over
months through the use of passive-aggressiveness, underhanded strategies,
suspecting glances, and – in general – nothing more than insinuation. Instead,
they were often ended in the same hour they were conceived. She had seen two
men break into a fight, at one point. Not any sort of duel with weapons, but a
fistfight that had them both rolling on the ground in the snow and dirt,
surrounded by a cheering group. After several minutes of this, they had broken
apart, both heaving and retching and covered in blood, before wandering away,
as though it had never had happened! She had been stupefied after this.

There were, however, the higher-class members of this town. She
hadn’t seen much of them so far – understandably, the rarely travelled into the
area of town where the people less well-off lived, and where the Origin had
landed itself. They seemed more typical to what she was used to in characters,
rarely walking on feet, but instead riding on horseback, surrounded by an
unhappy-looking retinue. The rest of the town’s inhabitants seemed wary, which
was worth noting, but she didn’t yet know enough about interaction between the
two factions to know whether that was commonplace or not.

“Your highness!”

Turning, she caught sight of Azura standing in the doorway.
The younger girl appeared to be in quite a state – covered in grease splotches,
breathing heavily in the door. Miyuki leaned forward.

“Is everything alright?” She asked. Another time, she might
have reminded the girl to call her “Miyuki” instead of “your highness”, but her
visitor seemed rather agitated, so she let the matter slip.

“Come look at this!” She urged, indicating with her hand.
Miyuki realises that she was clutching a metal tool of some kind in her hand.

“What do you mean, when you say “this”?” She rose, in spite
of her caution, clutching what was left of her apple like a lifeline as she did
so.

“It’s-” Azura paused in her speech for a moment, even as she
continued to move. It was a tic of hers, Miyuki had observed, that conveyed
implications of her mind moving a little too fast for her mouth. “It’s nothing
bad, I promise!” She eventually managed, which only muddied the waters further.
The phrase “it’s nothing bad” was one often said when things were actually
quite bad. She was beginning to feel slightly trepidatious. Would an apple
suffice as a weapon?

“Then what is it?” She prompted as the two strode down the
Origin’s corridors, Miyuki breaking into and out of a jog in order to keep up
with the girl’s quick and long strides. It was frustrating how, despite Miyuki
being the better half of a decade older than Azura, Azura was still the taller
of the two. She had grown used to her own height, of course, but still-!

“I’ve figured something out.” Azura’s voice lowered as they
stormed through a final door and into what Miyuki had come to recognise as the
room that housed the strange machines that kept the Origin afloat and moving.
Azura had been spending a lot of time inside them, so it made sense for her to
pick things up over time, Miyuki supposed.

“What do you mean, when you say “something”?” She pressed.
Azura did not immediately answer. Instead, she crouched low and peered at one
of the machines, giving Miyuki the chance to look around. There was a faint
cloud of steam at the top of the room, and a large amount of dust and rust on
top of the machines in a thick coating. Strange icons flashed with lines, and
pieces of metal clacked back and forth in rhythm. Everything was coloured
varying shades of grey and brown.

“This –” She said with a flourish, indicating to a small
glass window in a large segment of machine, “is what powers the ship! I think.
Maybe. I mean, it *looks* like it does
from a certain angle, and I saw it one day, and I just kind of…”

Miyuki blocked out Azura’s words as she approached the
window, peering inside. Surrounded by wires and other components was a circular
object. It possessed a gold and shiny surface, and rotated slowly within its
chamber, as nearby metallic components moved with it and forced the rest of the
mechanics to move as well. It was, she thought, the sun to the ship’s system.
And, starting with it, she could see the spread of movement throughout the
mechanics as the engines softly whirred, in a sort of standby, waiting for the
command to move from a pilot.

Gold trim aside, it looked almost plain for something that
might have been so important. Whatever it was that powered the ship, she
couldn’t help but feel that its relevance was a little understated. Instead,
she mused as she stepped backwards, one had to focus on its surroundings to see
the important effect it was having. Because it *did* seem to be having an important effect. She believed that much.
Azura’s theory on it powering the whole machine wasn’t very far-fetched.

“…watched it when we were flying one time, and it was moving
around faster.” She faded back into Azura’s words. The younger evidently hadn’t
realised that her companion hadn’t been paying complete attention in the first
place, and Miyuki played along, a wave of embarrassment hitting her as she
realised her failure to conform to such a simple social etiquette.

“Yes.” She tapped her chin in a considering manner. “That *does* look significant.” She couldn’t
pretend to understand the machine’s workings, but she had no intention of
giving Azura the impression that she didn’t care. What would that do, she
wondered, the young girl’s spirits? “How do you suppose it works?”

Azura shrugged quickly. “I don’t know, exactly. There’s a
thing marked “fuel” somewhere over there, but I’ve been looking at it for,
like, weeks, and it’s barely moved. I don’t know if that’s some kind of
super-fuel, or if that’s just a key piece of the actual mechanics. Either way,
I’m not risking taking it out. What if everything gets screwed up?”

Miyuki sighed and drew back, allowing Azura to peer closely
at the orb. “Fair enough.” She conceded. “Though it would perhaps be a good
idea to carry out at some point. Surely, we need to know what the ship runs on,
considering no-one seems to know how long we shall be travelling for.”

Azura peered even closer, hunching over. Her grubby shirt
was ill-fitting and torn, with one of her shoulders having slipped through the
neck hole. She tentatively reached a grimy hand (the one not holding a tool)
towards the machine, but then drew back.

A metallic banging. A few days ago, Miyuki might have jumped
out of her skin, but by this point she recognised it as a signal that someone
had returned from a reply one, and was now “knocking” on the ship’s rear door
to be let in. Based on the strength of the banging, it was probably Loden –
though it seemed to be quicker and louder than normal.

She could have sworn that Azura’s ears had physically
pricked up upon hearing the noise.

“Loden and Daiyu.” She decided, before scurrying out of the
engine room. “Come on, let’s meet them!”

Miyuki nodded, and began to stride towards where she knew –
well, *suspected* – the rear door was.
After a week or so on board the ship, she was beginning to understand where
everything was, and how to navigate the Origin’s metal corridors. She heard the
slide of the door, a moment’s pause, and then Loden’s voice.

It sounded very different to what she had grown used to.

“Azura,” she heard Loden say, “I need to talk to Iamos, I- I
need to talk to Iamos and Miyuki right f- uh, right *hecking* now.”

His voice was low and urgent. None of the usual playfulness
that she could hear whenever he opened his mouth. She could almost imagine the
grave expression on his face. She could feel an uncomfortable feeling spring to
life in the pit of her stomach. Something had to be wrong.

“Why?” Azura said back. Then, another short pause. Then:

“Where’s Daiyu?”

Miyuki felt a chill creep up her spine. The next moment,
Loden was storming past, most likely not even noticing her presence. There was
a stream of blood running down his lip, and a bruise on his cheek. His teeth
were bared in a barely-contained grimace.

Something had happened, she decided wordlessly. That much
was very obvious. But what exactly *had*
occurred, and what had happened Daiyu?

“Loden.” She said, holding out a hand. He wheeled around at
the sound of her voice, brows raising in surprise.

“Miyuki.” He breathed. “Princess.”

“What happened?” She stepped forward, with the intention of
getting straight to the point. Loden cringed. His hands quivered slightly, and
Miyuki noticed that his knuckles were smeared with blood. His gaze flickered
down, following hers, and then met hers once again. His bright eyes glimmered
with the fire she had grown used to seeing in them.

“Not my blood if, that’s what you’re wondering.” There was a
self-satisfied smirk on his face for half a second, before it was replaced by
cold anger once again. “But there’s no time. Daiyu… Daiyu’s been taken.”

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

Loden was on one side of the table. Miyuki, Azura, and Iamos
were all bunched together on the other side. A captive audience. The air was
heavy, leaden with depression and anger. To Miyuki, it felt palpable, like a
thick blanket. The silence ate away at her – at all of them. Eventually, it was
Iamos (of all people) to muster the courage to speak.

“Give us the details.” He said, speaking softly, like a
parent trying to get a child to confess to a misdemeanour.

Loden’s fingers tightened around the sleeves of his jacket.
His arms were folded, defensively, and for once, he couldn’t meet any of their
faces. “Iamos… I…”

“I don’t blame you.” Iamos sounded more firm, now. “I
wouldn’t blame you for this. But I want to know exactly what happened.”

Though Loden made no effort to address the issue of blame,
his tight frame loosened slightly. Miyuki suspected that he was quite relieved.
“We had just- we had just been in town.” He said. “Looking, for, you know,
boots.” He paused. “Like we said we were going to do. And then…” He sighed,
suddenly. “Then, these… these *guys*.
They came after us, all of a sudden.”

“How many?” Iamos pressed. Had she been in his shoes, Miyuki
would have let Loden speak at his own pace – questioning would feel hostile,
and interrogative. But (and she realised this with no ill will towards the
content of Iamos’ character), he didn’t seem to understand a lot about social
interaction. Yes, he was aversive, but he remained unaware of the small cues,
and the possibilities and feelings, that someone like her or even Loden would
be able to pick up on. Loden, to his credit, seemed to not be perturbed any
further by Iamos’ questioning tone.

“…Three.” He decided, after a moment’s hesitation. “One went
for Daiyu, two for me.”

“What happened?” Iamos was relentless. Probably, she
realised with a jolt, he was anxious about Daiyu’s fate.

Loden shrugged, still trying to pretend that he possessed
even a sliver of confidence. “I fought them off.” He confessed. “But it took a
while.” He licked his split lip, and spat a globule of blood onto the room’s
floor. “By the time they were both down, Daiyu was basically gone.”

Iamos leant back in his chair. Miyuki could feel the despair
seemingly radiating from him. “Completely?”

Here, for the first time since his return, Loden was able to
produce one of his classic smiles. “Nope.” He reached into the pocket of his
grey jacket and tossed something – a slip of paper – onto the table. Azura
grabbed and unfurled it, and the trio all read it at their own pace, taking in
the information on it.

It was Azura who spoke first. “Auction?”

Loden nodded. “Nasty business.” His eyes flickered to Iamos
and Miyuki – a message? – but Azura seemed dissatisfied.

“Daiyu’s my friend.” She declared. “Yeah, it could be bad,
but I don’t want to be left out.”

Loden sighed. “Figures.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s an auction
of people. A slave auction.”

There was quiet after his words. The discomfort in the pit
of Miyuki’s stomach had returned with something of a vengeance.

Loden pressed on. “I… well, I had a “talk” with one of the
guys I laid low.” He clenched and unclenched his fist again. “Turns out this
town is well known for it – in poorer circles, people know not to visit here
unless they want to be snatched up, and in richer circles, people know all about
the regular opportunities to bag yourself a nice slave or two.” His mouth was
bared in a snarl as he finished speaking.

Perhaps, Miyuki mused, that was why she had seen the
higher-classes be observed with such wariness and trepidation by the rest of the
town’s civilians. They had known something about this.

“So.” Iamos’ voice was low. “What do you suggest we do?”

She wasn’t sure who he was speaking too, but it was Loden
who responded.

“Actually, I have an idea.” He revealed. Everyone else leant
forward as he began to explain. “You see, I had a nice, long talk with my
would-be kidnapper. Got him to tell me all that, for starters. I also got him
to tell me the name of the place. Evercrest Mansion.”

Iamos’ brow furrowed, and he reached into his pocket before
pulling out – Miyuki peered at it. She hadn’t recalled seeing it before. He
pulled from the paper a lime-green cord, allowing it to unwind, and spoke in a
clear voice: “Map. Show me how to get to Evercrest Mansion.”

The scene on the paper began to morph. What was once a map
of the entire continent suddenly shifted, until it was one of the entire town –
complete with them in the Origin. There was a deep black path that was
pulsating and vibrating, emerging from the Origin, and snaking through the
houses until it reached a large rectangle labelled “Evercrest mansion”.

“What the-?” She heard Azura gasp. “It’s a magic map!”

The map shifted again. Bright red text scrawled over the
top, reading:

“*Obviously*.”

“A magical map with an attitude.” She mused.

“Yo.” Loden muttered. “So… so that’s why Rainer said it was
important, I guess. Right?”

“Right.” Iamos nodded, before returning his attention to the
map. “So, we… we know where it is?”

Suddenly, Miyuki had a thought.

“Map.” She said, leaning forward. “Show us where Daiyu
Abernathy is.”

Slowly, a black dot faded into existence within Evercrest
Mansion – tiny text labelled the dot as “Daiyu Abernathy”. Nobody spoke for a
moment. They had a confirmation.

“What do we do?” It was Azura who posed the question that
was surely on everyone’s mind. To Miyuki’s surprise, however, Loden raised his
hand.

“If I may.” He said. “There’s, ah, some more information on
that paper I gave you.”

Azura held up the page once again, hunching over as she
squinted at it. “There’s… there’s a date here.”

“That’s right.” Loden sounded as though he had regained some
of his roguish confidence as he folded arms and tilted his chin upwards in a
satisfied sort of triumph. “On there, they’ve got the date for the next auction
they have scheduled. See, the thing is, it’s an open evening.” He smirked.
“They’re not gonna limit the number of potential buyers by making it an
invite-only event, so they’ve made it so that anyone can attend. I mean, I say
“anyone”, but they’re not going to let you in unless it’s obvious that you’ve
got both the funds for slave, and the *need*
for slaves. I mean. Probably.”

“And there’s our issue.” Iamos tilted the map downwards, his
brow furrowed in a disappointed sort of look – only for a moment, however,
before morphing into something more closely mirroring mortification. “I mean-
uh, I’m assuming that your plan is to go there ourselves, and try and find
Daiyu. Right?”

Loden performed what Miyuki could only describe as some kind
of mock bow.

“Spot on, you beautiful genius.” He applauded, before
pausing and eying Iamos shiftily. “But you said there was a problem?”

“Loden, we can’t pass for rich people.” Iamos spread his
arms out wide, holding the map in one hand, to illustrate his point. “We don’t
look like rich people, and rich people probably act in a whole other way as
well. We have no idea how to do any of that stuff.”

It was at this moment that Miyuki felt compelled to clear
her throat. The rest of the room’s occupants turned to her, realisation dawning
on their faces.

“You forget,” she told them, “I grew up in the royal court.
I don’t think environments get more “rich” than that.” She allowed a wry smile
to form on her face. “Some of the outfits I brought with me will be suitable
disguises, and some can be traded in or sold in return for ones that might be more
suitable for…” she eyed Loden and Iamos. “…men.” She finished. “As for the mannerisms,
the social cues, the hidden gestures and courtesies of a higher-class life? Well,
I suppose it’ll be my job to whip you all into shape.”

Loden looked as though he were about to dive across the table
to embrace her. “You *livesaver*.” He breathed.

Azura began to jump up and down, yelling something intelligible
about princesses and parties and daring rescues –

Iamos turned to her, gratitude brimming in his eyes. He held
out a hand.

“Thank you.” He said. Miyuki offered him a courteous smile as
she grasped his hand in her own.

She stared into his eyes. “We’ll get her back.” She told him.

He nodded. “I know.”

**12: Fear**

*Breathe.*

*In, out. In, out. In-out-*

A rough hand gave her shoulder one final shove, and she
stumbled forwards into the cell that she had been brought to. Her knees hit the
floor, painfully. She choked back a sob as the door slammed shut behind her
with an almighty clang. The cell floor’s moisture soaked through her trouser
legs, mixing with the blood from her scraped knees.

*Breathe.*

Her hands were shaking, she noticed. She clenched her fists,
suddenly overwhelmed by a shameful anger. Tried to get them to stop. But they
didn’t.

Her heart felt like it was trying to burst out of her chest.

*Breathe.*

Her throat was tight, as well-! It felt like someone had
grabbed her windpipe, and was slowly tightening their grip. She sucked in
another small lungful of air. Her mouth was dry. Too dry. She licked her lips.

Why was this happening? Why was any of it happening?

She bit her lip, and forced herself to hold back tears.

*Breathe-*

A hand clamped against her shoulder. If she had had more
energy, she would have screamed – it came out as a shuddery gasp. She violently
jerked herself away from the hand. She tried to limit the movement to her
torso, but ended up wriggling her entire body, and falling to the floor with an
undignified *thump*.

“Easy-!” Someone said. Who was there? There was someone else
in the cell with her! Who-what-?

…

She suddenly felt very tired.

*In, out. In, out. In… out.*

The adrenaline began to wear off. With a heavy heart, and a
heavier head, she began to lean forwards.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Someone – was it the same someone? –
held her up, stopped her from just falling straight to the ground. Despite
panicking over the contact a second ago, Daiyu now had to resist the urge to
just sink into this person’s arms.

“Trust me when I say that ground is filthy.” They continued.
“There *is* a bed.”

She didn’t reply, focusing on forcing her throat to move and
flex, removing the pressure. She gasped once. The pressure was slowly
withdrawing as she calmed down. She shifted her legs, and stood up, breaking
away from the other’s grasp.

*Breathe.*

Though she had *many* questions, she settled for the most pressing.

“Where… am I?” She said, looking around. She could barely
see anything – there was no real light. She could make out the silhouettes of
metal bars in one direction, and there was damp rock under her feet. Some kind
of… some kind of prison cell?

Her question was met with a snort of bitter laughter.

“A total *lortehul*.”
The person said, the distaste clear in their voice. “Worst place I’ve ever
been, for sure.”

Daiyu turned her head to view the person in her cell.
Another girl, she could tell that much. Everything was too dark to discern many
details, though. She looked to be wearing rags of some kind? Probably. She
certainly couldn’t imagine their captors giving anyone particularly nice
clothes to wear, at any rate. Her hair looked to be… a shade of red, perhaps?
It was also quite long, and obviously very matted and tangled.

“That’s… that’s all you know?” She did want to press her
cell-mate (assuming they *were* her
cell-mate – who else could they be?), but she just had to know.

“Basically.” The cell-mate shrugged. “I haven’t really
focused on that.”

“Then…” Daiyu faltered. “What *have* you, uh, been focusing on?”

The darkness meant that she couldn’t see her cell-mate’s
expression. She could only hear the wryness in her voice

“Giving these… *people*…”
she spat the word like a curse – “a hard time.”

“I…” Daiyu, for her part, wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“Right.” She eventually managed, feeling like an idiot.

“Loosen up.” She felt an arm sling over her shoulder, and
flinched. Her cellmate seemed to pay her discomfort no mind, and continued to
speak. “I mean, you’re obviously not one of them, otherwise you wouldn’t be in
here with little old me.”

“Yeah, I…” She trailed off. What could she even say? “L-
look, what’s your name?”

“Akane.” The cell-mate replied. Akane. Ok. Perhaps she
should have been more nervous (or, at least, trepidatious!) to meet someone new
like this, but she seemed to have run out of fear for the moment. Besides,
there were more pressing issues than the terror of social interaction… right?

“Okay, Akane.” She said. Ignoring the rhyme. “Can you, uh,
please tell me everything you can about this place?”

There was a sigh from Akane. “You sure you want to know
everything, uh…”

“Daiyu.” She managed, in a rush. “My name is Daiyu.”

“Die-you.” Akane muttered, testing how the name sounded on
her tongue. “Ok, well, let me give you the *lortehul* talk.”

“What does “lortehul” mean?” Daiyu blurted, before clapping
a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to interrupt. How would Akane take it?
She anxiously glanced off to the side, to see her cell-mate sniggering to
herself.

“You don’t want to know, *pige*.”
She told her. “Just trust me.”

Daiyu was burning to know, but kept her mouth shut out of fear
of affronting her only companion. After a moment’s pause, Akane began to speak
again.

“Anyways, welcome to the *lortehul*.”
She said, doing something with her hands. What was it? Daiyu couldn’t tell. She
squinted some more. She was twirling a lock of hair in her hands. Oh, that’s
what it was. “A place of… well, of nothing good, basically.” Oh, Akane was
still talking. She focused again, embarrassed by her easy distraction. “You are
probably here because you were kidnapped or something. Well, the good news is
that the kidnapping was nothing personal. You haven’t done anything wrong, or,
like, offended anyone. You were just unlucky.”

Daiyu nodded, frowning. One of her thoughts, in all honesty,
had been that this was all to do with law enforcement. It was a slight relief –
only very slight, but still – to learn that she wasn’t a criminal now, on top
of everything else.

“The bad news?” Akane continued, probably relishing the
chance to have someone to talk to. How long had she been in here? Daiyu was
almost afraid to find out. “You’ve been taken by slavers. These people will
kidnap you, wear you down for a bit, and turn you into a slave to be sold at an
auction. You’ve got anything from days to months before they decide you’d make
a good sale.”

“Slavery?” Daiyu’s blood ran cold. “Isn’t there any way we
could escape?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, myself.” Akane admitted,
turning her head to stare upwards at the cell’s ceiling. “But it won’t work.”
She faced Daiyu again, who could almost see the light in her eyes. “On top of
everything else, these guys use magic.”

“Magic?” Repeated Daiyu. Akane’s eyes rolled.

“Stop repeating everything I’m saying! Yes, magic!” She
snapped. Daiyu reeled back, wincing. Now she had blown it. But Akane continued
to explain, voice lowering to an almost-whisper. “Look, I don’t know all the
details. But whenever a slave is bought, they head down there-” she pointed out
of their cell, down the corridor. “And they… they do *something* to them. I don’t know what except that it’s magic, but the
people they take down there are put through some kind of freaky ritual before
being sent off with their masters. And believe me, I want to escape, but I have
no idea what kind of magic they use. For all I know, these guys have the power
to curse me for a thousand lifetimes or something. Besides, there’s still this
mess of tunnels – and armed guards – to deal with. Much as I hate to say it,
your best course of action is probably… I don’t know. Whatever you want to do
before being taken away forever.”

Daiyu crawled to the bars, craning her neck to try and see
down the corridor. She couldn’t. It was too long. Instead, she could see two
walls of iron bars, and several shadowy shapes shifting in the darkness. She
felt sick. How many people were down here?

“It’s a long kind of ritual, whatever they do.” Akane was
still speaking. “Lot of words in languages I don’t understand. But once they
finish, that’s it.”

“That’s it?” Echoed Daiyu. Akane paused for a moment –
finger on chin – before shrugging, apologetically.

“Well, most people scream.”

She flinched.

Blinking several times, she tried to focus on what little
she could see. Her vision began to blur at hot tears trickled out of her eyes.
Another wave of fear hit her, and she felt herself physically rock backwards.
Shaking. Shaking.

*Breathe. Breathe. Breathe-!*

“*Lort*.” Akane
approached, then stopped. At least, Daiyu *thought* she could see her approaching. She wasn’t sure, and she- she wasn’t in a
position to trust her senses, surely. “I’m sorry, Daiyu. I shouldn’t be so…”
She trailed off, snapping her fingers. “What is the word? *Ligesom afslappet*… uh, flippant? Flippant. Yes.”

*In, out. In, out.*

Daiyu said nothing.

What could she say, anyway? What good were words?

Akane waited for a moment longer before speaking. “This is a
bad situation. I know. I’m sorry. I’m used to it by now, so I feel more… more,
uh comfortable with it.” She laughed what was probably the most humourless
laugh Daiyu had ever heard. “As twisted at that may sound.” But the laugh
faded, and her face twisted into one of strained sympathy. “But this is all new
and scary for you. I’m sorry.”

*Breathe.*

“S’alright.” Daiyu muttered, feeling the shock wear off
again. Whenever the panic faded, she was left with a feeling of helplessness
and tired-ness. Like all of her energy was sapped away by the fear. The panic.

It made her feel so… inadequate.

“The fault is mine.” Admitted Akane, sitting on one of the
beds chained to the wall. “So, let’s not talk about that anymore.” She sighed.
“Let’s talk about something else, if you want?”

The question echoed throughout the cell for several seconds,
which gave Daiyu enough time to wonder why no-one else was talking in any of
the cells. They should have been able to hear and speak, right…? She shook her
head (and immediately regretted it as a feeling of dizziness washed over her)
to clear it of those thoughts. Focus on one thing at a time. She panted. The
floor was cold, the bars were cold against her back, Akane was sitting on the
bed. She focused on grounding herself, bringing herself back to reality. The
underground air was warm and humid against her skin, and smelt vaguely of clay.

“Yes.” She managed to say. “Let’s talk about something
else.”

“Okay.” Akane seemed to brighten up a little at the idea.
Daiyu saw her body perk up slightly, saw her sit a little straighter. “What do
you have in mind?”

Nothing immediately came to mind. Immediately.

“Akane.” Daiyu eventually ventured after a few moments of
pensiveness. “How do you… how do you stay positive, in situations like this?”

“How?” Akane laughed slightly, and Daiyu felt another rush
of panic. Was that a stupid question? Then her cell-mate started to speak.

“I myself do not know.” Said Akane, leaning back against the
wall. “I think… I think everyone deals with fear in a different way. My way of
coping is jokes. Is humour. I use it to hide my fear.”

Daiyu wanted to take comfort from what Akane was saying, but
could only feel herself becoming more depressed. Was her panic, her
helplessness- was *it* how *she* dealt with fear? She could feel her
brow furrowing at this. She couldn’t even handle her fear right.

She felt pathetic.

“Besides,” Akane continued, doubtlessly unaware of Daiyu’s
inner turmoil, “I have no specific fear of this. I mean, the whole situation is
bad. Yes. But it is not a personal dread, or fear, of mine. There is a saying
where I come from: *et brændt barn frygter ilden, og et bittet barn frygter hunden*.” Daiyu must have looked confused,
because Akane sniggered, and spoke again. “It means, uh, the burnt child fears
fire, and the bitten child fears the dog.” Her face fell, but instead of fear,
Daiyu could see a sort of grit. A determination. “It is true. I am the bitten
child, and I fear the dog.” She suddenly spread her arms wide. “But I see no
dogs here. So, I am less afraid.” She turned to face Daiyu. “Do you get it?”

It took Daiyu a moment, but then it hit her, what Akane was
essentially saying.

“So… it could be worse?” She ventured. Akane shrugged.

“Sort of.” She turned to face Daiyu. “What is your biggest
fear, Daiyu? What are you the most scared of? What haunts you when you are
alone in darkness?”

It took Daiyu a moment to decide. If only because the
thought scared her.

“…Fire.” She confessed. Rather than provide any sort of condolences,
Akane laughed again. Logically, Daiyu should have been insulted by Akane’s lack
of sympathetic reaction. However, she couldn’t help but feel slightly uplifted.

“Then you are the burnt child!” She grinned. “You and me,
burnt and bitten.” She let her laughter trail off, before pointedly looking
around in the cell. “But look around, *pige*. Do you see any fire?”

There was no fire in the cell, no. There were, Daiyu
conceded, burning torches outside. But that was okay. The lights were small,
and covered by with a metal grating around the flame, and they were helping her
to see anyway. They did not resemble the wave of orange light and heat that
still haunted her dreams, still made her leg ache. Still made her tremble with
fear.

“No.” She said, before realising how stupid she must have
sounded, with the torches outside. “I mean-! Nothing, uh, bad. Nothing bad.
Nothing scary.”

Akane nodded sagely. “So. You are here with me. It is dark.
And the future is uncertain.” She grinned. “But close your eyes and imagine
that fire, Daiyu. Imagine it closing around you, turning you to ash, blowing
you away on the wind.”

Daiyu found that she could, vividly. She could feel the hair
standing up on her neck, she could-!

*Breathe.*

“And open your eyes.”

Daiyu opened her eyes and looked around. Everything seemed a
lot darker than it had before. She found it comforting.

“There is no great fire.” Akane finished. “And doesn’t that
just fill you with relief?”

It was… a bizarre coping mechanism, to be fair. Conjuring up
some greater fear or dread, to make her current predicament seem less significant.
However, Daiyu mused, there had to be something to it. She honestly felt a little
better.

“I wouldn’t say “fills”,” she confessed. “But… I do feel better
now.” She turned to face her cell-mate. “Thank you, Akane.”

“You’re welcome, Daiyu.” Akane smirked. “Come on, let’s find
another way to pass the time. Know any good stories?”

Daiyu tapped her lip, thoughtfully, trying to think back through
her life’s experiences. Funnily enough, it was something recent that eventually
came to mind.

“Well, a strange thing happened to two friends of mine recently.”
She said, cautiously, but warming up to the role of storyteller as she spoke. “They
went out to buy groceries, and came back with, uh, a princess.”

Akane laughed raucously, the sound echoing throughout the corridor.
Could Daiyu hear, she wondered, more than another voice laugh? There seemed to be
other people in cells. Rather than the possibility of a larger audience daunting
her, it instead filled her with confidence.

“Go on, go on!” Akane clapped her hands, rubbing them together
like a satisfied rodent. “How did this happen?”

Daiyu struggled to recall the details that Iamos, Miyuki, and
Loden had each let slip over the past few days.

“Well, I believe it started when these friends of mine didn’t
bend the knee when they really should have…”

**13: Evercrest Mansion**

“Chin *up*.” Miyuki
scolded for what had to be the dozenth time. “Iamos, you can’t stare at the
floor while you walk.”

By this point, Iamos seemed to had given up even arguing. He
grunted in a dissenting manner, obediently sticking his chin up in the air.

“Too far.” She said, indicating his face with a fan. “Now it
looks like you find the ceiling more interesting than anything else happening
around you.”

“How appropriate.” Iamos muttered. Loden chuckled, even as
Miyuki shot him an evil glare. He couldn’t help it. This was *priceless*.

Having finished his own “training”, if it could be called
that, with Miyuki hours ago, Loden was busy amusing himself by watching her
struggle to get Iamos to conform to high-class social convention. It was going
about as well as he had expected it to go, and he definitely felt bad for both
parties involved, but… it was also a decent laugh.

“We’re doing this for Daiyu, remember?” Miyuki reminded him,
sounding as exasperated as Loden had ever heard her. “We have to look the part,
so that we can stay long enough to find her.”

Iamos sighed, his head falling low again. “I just can’t
understand the logic-”

“Alright, but I can put it to you in a logical manner if you
so wish.” Miyuki told him as she eyed his body position, poking his arm to
indicate that he had to remove it from his pocket. He did so in a manner that
couldn’t have been described as anything more or less than begrudging.

“Please.” He nodded. Loden nodded approval from the
sidelines. That was, he had observed over time (if he didn’t know Iamos well,
who *did* he know?), a prominent
feature of Iamos and his psyche. He had to understand the logic, or the
reasoning, behind something before he could do it. If no-one gave him a good
reason for doing anything, he wouldn’t do it. And if he thought that a rule was
stupid, and didn’t make sense… Loden involuntarily shuddered as he remember the
times he had had to bail Iamos out of trouble, in that regard.

“Well, looking down implies that you’re unconfident.” Miyuki
explained. “It implies that you’re insecure, that you don’t know what you’re
doing, that you’re not happy with your position. And someone high-born has a
lot less reason to look down than everyone else.”

“I’m sure they have their reasons.” Iamos muttered, darkly.
Miyuki actually rolled her eyes at that.

“They do, but they don’t show it. They’re not as readable in
their body language as you are. And we don’t want to take any chances with
this, do we?”

Iamos said nothing. He forced his head to raise.

“So now you’re staring apathetically forwards, instead of
apathetically downwards.” Loden pointed out, before shrugging. “I mean, that
technically counts as a victory, but you still look too much like a waxwork.”

“Loden has a point.” Affrontingly, Miyuki looked displeased
with the words leaving her mouth. What was wrong with the idea of him being
right? “Forgive me, but you’re going to have to make eye contact with people.”

Iamos let out a drawn-out sigh. Miyuki, for her part, seemed
to show considerable restraint by not sighing herself, before continuing to
talk.

“I *know* it’s
horrible and sensitive and it feels revealing and intimate.” She declared,
moving around so that she could keep looking directly at Iamos as he tried to
tilt his head away from her. Trying to establish something like that connection
with him. As an example? Loden wasn’t sure. It was only after he began to look
up again that she cut her losses, and continued to speak without making that
oh-so-important eye contact. “Iamos. I wouldn’t dare suggest that you have to
make constant eye contact with anyone. But if someone talks to you…” She
trailed off, suddenly snapping her fingers. “If someone talks to you, all you have
to do is find out their eye colour. Okay?”

Iamos moved to face her again. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” She nodded. “A couple of moments is enough
time to not be rude, and you get something to focus on for a bit.”

Well, now. Loden had to hand it to her – the princess was
sharp. Quite good at getting people to do things, as well, which probably came
in handy for a royal. Though, to be fair, Loden had known that since their very
first meeting. He would have continued daydreaming further (and doubtlessly have
enjoyed himself doing it), but was shaken out of his thoughts by Miyuki saying
something quite loudly.

“And where has Azura gone?”

Good point, Loden had to admit as he pushed off from the
wall to properly focus on his surroundings. Where had the little gremlin run
off to?

“Azura!” Called Iamos. A moment of silence – then the
unmistakable stumble of pubescent feet. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as
Azura tottered into view, though that relief quickly morphed into… some fun bag
mix of curiosity, humour, and irritation. Probably. It was a weird emotion,
whatever the name was.

“This is so cool.” She breathed, already decked out in one
of the dresses that Miyuki had had to spare. Admittedly, she didn’t look
terrible (in that, formality-wise, she didn’t look like a complete mess). The
dress had been designed to be flowing, so Azura’s extra inches in height
compared to Miyuki weren’t really an issue. Just less flow. No biggie, right?

In any case, the dress fit decently, which was good. It
looked pretty good, too. Nice and fancy and gaudy, with the main fabric being a
light blue… turquoise… aqua… sort of colour, and thick gold trims on the
sleeves and chest acting as a nice secondary colour scheme. There were some
translucent bits too, which was pretty nifty, near the upper arms and
shoulders, before the sleeves thickened and hung down. It was all a little more
fancy-pantsy than Loden was used to, but he could appreciate the whole
aesthetic. However, Azura’s hair was undone, and hung sloppily over her
shoulders – and the dress was very creased, looking a little like a used
bedsheet. It quite spoiled the look, or so Loden thought.

Miyuki raised her arms to the heavens.

“Damn on your second uncle!” She hissed with an enragement
that seemed almost out of character – the stress of the event had to be getting
to her – before breathing heavily and wasting no time in escorting Azura from
the premises, out of sight. A moment passed, and a bag was laid gently on the
floor outside the room’s door.

“Get changed.” Miyuki’s disembodied voice ordered. “Tell us
when you’re ready, but *don’t come in*.”

Marvellous. Loden wordlessly took the bag and placed it on a
nearby table, opening it up and eying the contents quizzically. There were two
distinct suits within. One looked more Cheinise, whilst the other looked
unfamiliar in style. Presumably, since the clothes had been brought in town, it
was more stylised to the culture of the Icy Wastes. Loden eyed Iamos.

“Any, uh, preference?” He ventured.

Iamos peered into the bag before stepping back with an
apathetic shrug. His brow hadn’t unfurrowed since the news of Daiyu’s kidnap,
Loden had realised. And it had been over two days.

“Alrighty then.” Loden, without any further ado, leant
forward and grabbed the Cheinise-looking suit. It looked just a little bit
snazzier to him. A bit cleaner. “Well, let’s, uh, get changed.”

He pulled the suit out of the bag, examining it as he dipped
into thought. The day before the day before, Daiyu had been taken from them.
Kidnapped. Under his watch, no less...! Even now, the memory made him furious.
He clenched his fists around the shoulders of the suit jacket he was holding.
If only he had been more efficient, if only he had been faster, if only he had
been more alert!

He stopped himself. It was a form of survivor’s guilt, the
logical side of him knew. Because he had gotten off scot-free while Daiyu had
been taken, he would find ways to blame himself for what had happened, feeling
as though he didn’t deserve to be around when she wasn’t. It was a stupid mental
response, and he physically shook his head to try and clear it. He sighed
through gritted teeth.

What kind of guard was he?

He was still fuming as he stripped off his jacket, grabbing
the suit and slinging it over his shoulders. The whole matter upset him. Not
just his own incompetence. Daiyu didn’t deserve it. Hell, *nobody* deserved to be kidnapped off the streets, and forced to-! He
caught himself again, pausing. Spades. He really was wound up about all this,
wasn’t he? He had to focus. He had helped come up with a plan. He was an active
participant in the rescue operation that they had planned for that night. Even
if he had screwed up, he was making amends now. That was all he could do.

“Loden.” Iamos’ voice interrupted him. He turned around,
half-hoping for some kind of advice or heartfelt conversation. He was instead
greeted by the sight of Iamos all but trapped inside the thick woolly coat he
was wearing. “How does this work?”

Loden eyed the numerous buttons and zips on the coat before
chuckling, and stepping forward.

“Come on, fashionista.” He rolled his eyes, fondly. “Let’s
give you a hand.”

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

Nightfall brought with it a certain feeling of intensity. It
was weird, Loden pondered as he trudged down the snowy street. On paper, it’d
seem like the night – when most people would have been asleep – would have been
calmer. More peaceful. Loden had experienced that sometimes, when he had been
training as a guard. The mock night watches, with a lack of real danger about
them, had been something of a contemplative time for him. A time to enjoy his
own company (because he *was* good
company) and just relax.

Tonight, however, was different.

Far from savouring the experience, or enjoying the fact that
they were able to play a sort of fantastical pretend – step into a life that
few had ever experienced – their party was quite subdued as they made the walk
from the Origin, hidden away near the town’s boundaries, to Evercrest Mansion.
Loden tugged on his jacket, wishing it was just a little thicker. The cold was ever-palpable.
His outfit was, he liked to think, simplistic yet stylish – white jacket, done
up with golden buttons, and black trousers and undershirt. Loden had pushed his
hair back a bit, messing it upwards and pulling some of his unrulier strands
into place. It was a little uncomfortable, but Loden knew that it was simply
the feeling of new and unfamiliar clothes, and that he’d warm up to it soon
enough. (With a little bit of luck.)

To his side stood Miyuki. Though it was mostly obscured by
the long fur coat she was clad in, her dress was stylistically similar to his.
Black and white, with a relatively simple design. Her arms were bare (hence the
coat), which had given Loden the opportunity (*before* that coat) to take note of a tattoo on one of her shoulders.
To be specific, the left shoulder. Inked into her porcelain skin was an image
of some kind of bird, bearing its chest outwards and extending its wings. Its
beak was extended, as though mid-call, and the wings spread outwards beyond her
shoulder, stretching across her back and chest, under the dress’ fabric.
Several tendrils of ink, looking like bursts of flame and clumps of feathered
cleaved into one, trailed down her arm – some reached as far as below her
elbow, snaking across the top of her forearm. Were they supposed to be the
bird’s tail? He wasn’t sure.

It was an interesting feature, to be sure. Loden couldn’t
take his mind off it. It had to be royal family-sanctioned, because he doubted
that the Emperor would condone his daughter getting her skin inked as she
pleased. That, in turn, meant that it *probably*
had to mean something, or have some kind of symbolism. He made a mental note to
ask Miyuki about it later.

To his other side stood Iamos. A cross between a cloak and a
fur coat was draped across his shoulders, making his shoulders look almost
twice as broad. His underclothes were mostly plain, and dark. A jacket hanging
past his waist, tied with a bronze-buckled belt. He looked like some kind of
commander, a cold-weather warrior. His face was suitably stony, too. Beyond his
slightly lowered eyebrows, his blue eyes blazed with a dark intensity. Loden
was tempted to give him his sword, just to complete the look – but if things *did* go to pot, Loden would be able to
use it better. Iamos had his alchemy, anyway.

Azura was by Iamos’ side, wearing the dress that she had
tried on earlier. The longest folds were tied around her legs, to avoid the
fabric draping into the dry snow gathered on the streets they walked through.
The dress had been un-creased by Miyuki, just to ensure that the girl was
looking her best – and her black hair was done up in a tight bun, held in place
by a long metal screw that she had found in the engine room. Miyuki hadn’t
approved, but everyone else agreed that it worked fine, and that no-one was
going to notice anyway.

The four walked as one unit, striding confidently towards
the mansion – as he turned another corner, Loden was suddenly hit with its
image, windows ablaze with light. Perhaps unsurprisingly, no-one was loitering
near the mansion’s streets. They probably didn’t want to be made slaves,
either.

The mansion was surrounded by a high wall, made of plastered
brick, that stretched father than Loden could be bothered to glance. A little
way away, he could see a gate of metal bars, guarded by four heavily-built men
in furs and armour. The gates themselves were open, but it wasn’t likely that
those guards were going to let just anyone in.

This was it. He glanced at Miyuki, who nodded in
affirmation. Time to put their plan into action.

“Evening, gents.” The duty of cold open fell to Loden
himself, who forced his legs to keep moving as he ambled in what he *hoped* was an amicable and relaxed
fashion towards the guards. He held up the poster as he arrived in front of
them, the poster that had given him the information to begin with. “Open
evening, we heard?”

“Aye.” Grunted one of the men. The guards didn’t seem too
threatening or suspicious, to be fair – just weary. Made sense, Loden thought.
Especially considering the fact that they had to stand outside in the cold for
their masters – human traffickers. “You can pay, right?”

“Aye.” Loden replied. Wordlessly, Miyuki held up a pouch of
coins that she had gained by trading in some of her jewellery. The metallic
jingle seemed to be enough of a proof for the guards, who shrugged and stood to
the side.

“Get through the main doors, and straight ahead. Everyone’s
in the hall.” Another guard said. “You can’t miss it.”

“Cheers.” Loden thanked them before striding forwards, the
trudge of boots breaking through fresh-fallen snow his indicator that Iamos,
Miyuki, and Azura were all following his lead.

The doors themselves were closed, but another two men
standing guard outside opened them up, allowing the group to wander inside.
Though this should have made Loden *less*
nervous, it was actually having the opposite effect. It felt worryingly simple.
What kind of security was this?

“Do we think it’s a trap?” He asked Miyuki as they walked,
still alone, through the hallway.

“Unlikely.” She responded. “Even if word of your exploits
got out, they’d have no way of suspecting that you were trying to infiltrate
this auction.” Loden furrowed her brow as she continued. “I know how you feel,
though. I thought it odd that entry seems so simple. I think we can attribute it
to a combination of our… *disguises*,
for lack of a better word, and a possible nonchalance on the part of the
guards.”

“Makes sense.” Muttered Loden. His eyes wandered to Iamos,
who was keeping up the illusion brilliantly thus far. Head and shoulders straight
up, piercing gaze straight ahead. He looked very
noble-slash-rich-slash-whatever indeed.

At his other side, Miyuki straightened herself up. “Be
wary.” She warned, as they arrived at a final set of doors. Loden allowed
himself a moment’s hesitation before pushing the doors confidently open.

He wasn’t quite sure what he had been expecting, to be fair.
Some kind of theatre? A rave? A torture chamber? The former was probably
closest, though that wasn’t exactly saying much. The room was simply enormous,
stretching meters and meters forwards in front of them. A large portion of it
was mostly empty space, with guests milling around and being fed refreshments
from uniform-clad servers. Towards the other end of the room were a large
number of chairs, and a central stage area, lifted up from the floor. As Loden
stepped forward, he noted some kind of podium on top of said stage area. He
narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what he was seeing. His best guess was
that the chairs and stage were the site of the auction itself, and the rest of
the space was just for honoured guests to make themselves comfortable. In all
honesty, the whole horror of the situation – the fact that people were being *bought at auctions* – wasn’t as
disturbing to Loden as it logically should have been. Perhaps he just hadn’t
experienced it yet, hadn’t seen it happen. For the time being, though, he’d
take it. They were here on a mission, and couldn’t get distracted by feelings.
Iamos, certainly, would have said something similar.

Large glass structures hung from the ceiling, filling the
room with a warm golden glow even as the wooden-rimmed windows revealed a
darkened outside, swirling with light snowflakes. The glow shone down on the
assembled highborns, illuminating them and their fancy clothes as they talked
and ate. Loden had half expected some kind of music, but the only ambient sound
was the buzz and mutter of voices as they faded into the background.

He leaned over to Miyuki. “I’m guessing that that stage is
where the people are actually bought.”

“I suspect you’re right.” Miyuki muttered back. Her face
remained impassive, and Loden struggled to even see her lips move.

He licked his lips. “What’s the plan?”

There was a moment of hesitation. Then-

“I thought that was your job.”

He paused, flushing. Was he the leader? He hadn’t realised.
Well, he *had* organised most of this.
He was the one doing the talking. Did that count? He suddenly realised that
Miyuki was probably waiting for a reply.

“Humour me.” He tried to emphasis the feeling of eye-rolling
with his voice, which wasn’t easy. “I could do with a second opinion.”

“Well.” There was a touch of humour to her voice now, though
it was nigh undetectable underneath a seriousness coming from both the need to
remain impassive amongst unsuspecting guests, and the general intensity of
their mission. “Our objective is to not only free Daiyu and leave, but to do so
without detection. The way I see it, we have two options.” The others gathered
around her as she spoke. “One: stealth. We sneak away, find where the
prospective slaves are being kept, find Daiyu, break her out, and leave.”

“Could be difficult.” Reasoned Iamos, who had a hand placed
on Azura’s shoulder – energy both nervous and excited was combining into
general fidgety movement, and she probably would have been bouncing on her
heels if not for her brother’s restraint.

Miyuki nodded. “We don’t know anything about the mansion’s
layout, it’ll arouse suspicion if we’re caught wandering around, and if we miss
the auction, Daiyu might end up being bought by someone else.”

Iamos’ faced contorted as Miyuki’s mention of Daiyu being
“bought”, but he remained silent.

“Two: hiding in plain sight.” Miyuki continued, unmoved by
Iamos’ show of emotion. “We mingle here with guests and sit out the auction. If
Daiyu’s there, we can buy her back ourselves.”

“Do we have the funds?” Loden raised an eyebrow, surprised.
Miyuki shook her head.

“I have no idea.” She confessed. “We might be outbid, and
we’d have to stay up here the whole time, talking and mingling-” she spread an
arm out to indicate the room’s occupants- “with the rest of them.”

“So, we’ve got two options, both with a lot of risks.” Iamos
summarized. Miyuki nodded.

“Suggestion.” Azura suddenly blurted. Everyone turned to
her, and she faced them down confidently. “Both!”

“Both?” Repeated Loden, as he processed the idea. Azura
nodded.

“We split up. Some of us stay up here, some of us go looking
around.” She eyed the group. “I’m… well, me and Iamos can go look around.”

She turned to him and Miyuki.

“You two are far better at talking to people. You should
stay up here and see if you can rescue or buy Daiyu.”

Loden looked to Miyuki. She nodded, once, for confirmation.
He smirked.

“Alright, squirt. Sounds like a plan.” He shook Azura’s hand
before eying the room. “Let’s see if we can find a good place for the two of
you to slip away from.”

Azura nodded, and the group began to walk forwards. Their
walk was brief, stressful, and littered with servants offering refreshments.
(Azura was the only one to accept – Loden, for his part, didn’t really have an
appetite.) Eventually, Loden spotted a side door. Small, almost hidden through
the crowd. Looking back, he could already see Iamos uncomfortably rubbing his
shoulders from all the contact. Time to split.

“Through here.” He hissed, indicating the door. “Just make
sure there isn’t anyone on the side.”

Azura cracked the door open and stuck her head through. One
moment and heartbeat later, she turned around.

“No, there’s no-one.” She reported.

Once again, Loden was left pondering lax security, but
critically analysing his good luck didn’t seem particularly beneficial.
Wordlessly, he opened the door wider and ushered Azura and Iamos through. He
would have said something along the lines of “goodbye and good luck”, but he
didn’t want to know what would happen if someone saw them slipping through the
door, so he saved the sentiment. The door clicked shut, and suddenly he was
alone with Miyuki. Well, not “alone” in the traditional sense. But she was the
only person there he knew, so…

“I suppose we ought to mingle.” Miyuki’s voice interrupted
him. He nodded, after a moment.

“Yeah.” He agreed, before realising something. “Uh, is it
okay if we give our real names, or whatever?”

“No.” She said, simply. “But don’t worry about it. Just let
me introduce ourselves, assuming it comes to that.”

“Pretty sure it will.” Loden nodded over her head. He had
noticed an approach. Two people, a man and a woman, arm in arm. Walking towards
them – slowly, so not particularly threateningly, but also deliberately.

“I see.” She muttered, her face remaining unchanged. She had
put some of the make-up back on, as well, and the white clothing helped her to
further resemble how she had looked when the two had first met. Wait, why was
he thinking about that now?

“Haven’t seen the two of you around before. First auction?”
The man said, finally reaching them. He had dark, tousled hair, and was wearing
the furs that a lot of other people seemed to be wearing. The woman on his arm
was almost as tall as he was, with long blonde hair. A beat passed, and the man
stuck his hand out towards Loden.

“Lord Miroslav of Sertograd.” He said, simply. “The woman is
my wife, Yara.”

Loden grasped the man’s hand, shaking it firmly. He remained
silent, though – Miyuki had asked him to let her handle the introductions, and
let her handle the introductions he would.

“This is my husband, Count Adalwin of Senlo.” She declared.
And- wait, where had *husband* come
from? Loden’s first reflex was to wheel on Miyuki and question her, but he
suppressed this urge. It was part of the plan. He forced himself to listen when
he realised that Miyuki continued speaking – a fake backstory of some kind? He
probably ought to know it.

“We’re newlyweds, travelling to the east as a celebration.”
Miyuki was still talking. “Some time for us to spend together, and get to know
one another better. Our staff is a little underhanded, so we decided to attend this
auction to, ah… boost our numbers, slightly.”

Miroslav nodded affirmation. “Talkative one, this one.” He
was still addressing Loden with his speech. Miyuki shot him a look. Welp. Time
to improvise.

“What can I say?” He slipped into a fake nonchalance, trying
to imagine that he and Miroslav were just old friends. “The east *is* her homeland, after all. Exciting for
her, I’m sure, to be back.” He forced a smile. “Well, *almost* back. Not quite there yet.” He couldn’t tell whether
Miroslav wanted to say anything else or not, so he pressed onwards. “I assume
that you’re experienced with these, ah… auctions?” He offered.

Miroslav nodded. “That I am.” He replied. “Must have been to
a dozen of these things. I bought some of the most efficient members of my
household.”

“Well, I hope to do the same.” Loden replied cheerfully. “Is
it just a conventional auction, then?”

“Aye.” Miroslav indicated the stage. “They’ll bring ‘em up
onto that stage, and you bid. Simple, really.”

“Wonderful.” Crooned Loden, feigning enthusiasm. “Nice and
simple.” His eyes roved around the room, looking for a way to escape the
conversation – natural as it may have looked, he didn’t want to talk for any
longer than was necessary – and his eyes eventually fixed themselves on a table
of food. Refreshments. A convenient excuse.

“Well, we’ll take our leave.” He said, politely. “I intend
to… sate my appetite.”

Miroslav nodded, one lord to another (or so he presumed),
and said: “Good luck with your hunt for service, Adalwin.”

“You too, my lord.” Loden nodded back respectfully, blindly
reaching to the side and ensnaring Miyuki’s arm in his. “Come, wife. Do you
hunger as well?”

Miyuki did not try to wriggle out of his grip as he had
half-anticipated. Instead, she meekly bowed her head in an almost disturbing
manner. “I do, my lord.”

With a final nod to Miroslav, Loden pulled her with him as
he wandered away, suddenly finding himself with a genuine appetite. A few
moments passed, and they were in the midst of a sort-of crowd, before Miyuki
spoke again.

““sate my appetite”?” She repeated. Loden eyed her.

“Was that wrong?”

She shrugged. “No, it was grammatically correct. It simply
sounded a little different to how you might have otherwise phrased it, is all.”

It was Loden’s turn to shrug. “Well, princess, I am doing
that undercover thing. Might as well *try*
to pass myself off as a highborn, at least.”

“You’ve been doing… well.” She assured him. Well, maybe
assured was too strong a word. Her hesitation certainly did nothing for his
self-confidence. (But he wasn’t going to bring it up.) “But we aren’t finished
yet.”

“Didn’t think so.” He sighed. There wasn’t any more conversation
between the two of them for a moment, and Loden filled the time and silence by
sampling delicacies from the snack table. They ranged from “succulent” to
“over-sweetened”. He looked around the room wearily as he chewed. There was no
sign of any prisoners, or the auction’s beginning in general. There was also no
sign of Iamos and Azura, returning either empty-handed or with Daiyu. With an
uncomfortable jolt, he realised that they hadn’t set up any way to meet up
after either succeeding or failing at finding Daiyu. Whoops.

“Hey, why “husband”?” Loden blurted out, curiosity suddenly
taking over for just long enough to ask the question. Maybe to distract himself
from the uncomfortable realisation that their exit strategy could have used
work.

Miyuki didn’t reply straight away, presumably maintaining an
unsuspicious composure. Eventually, she spoke.

“It was the most convenient explanation.” She said, simply.
“How else would you have passed us off?”

“Dunno.” Acknowledged Loden, slipping pieces of honeyed
fruit into his mouth. “But don’t husbandsh and wivesh have an intimashy, or shomethin’
wike ‘at?” His speech was hindered by his mouthful, and he hastily swallowed
enough to let him speak clearly. To be fair, the food was *delicious*.

“A lot of the time, marriages are arranged.” Miyuki
explained, turning her head away from Loden to survey the room. He had to
listen closely to pick up her words. “Newlyweds was convenient because it would
explain a lack of such intimacy. Many married couples only grow closer to one another
as their marriage progresses.”

“Hmm.” Loden furrowed his brow. She turned to him, her own
brow raised slightly, and he met her eyes. He suddenly felt an urge to speak.
“Well, uh, it’s not to do with the cover – it’s a good cover – I was just
thinking about the idea of arranged marriage in general, you know? I mean, I
really enjoy being free to love and live as I want, so something like that… it
doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Understandable.” Miyuki said. “Though, the truth is, most
people end up falling for their betrothed regardless. Or, at least, learning to
co-operate.” She sighed through her nose. “Love is a choice, Loden.”

He glanced at her sceptically, even as he continued to eat.
This was definitely news to him – love was supposed to be an affection. An
uncontrollable feeling. (At least, in his experience.) Wasn’t it supposed to be
something that no-one had any ability to resist or manipulate? Love couldn’t be
controlled, or decided upon. It was… it was almost beyond that, or so he
thought. Apparently, some people thought differently.

Fancy that.

“Alright.” He murmured, suddenly feeling quite thoughtful
(though maybe that was being full of food). He edged closer to Miyuki. “So, *wife*, mind if I ask you something?”

“Depends what you ask, *husband*.”
She replied without missing a beat. Seemed about right.

“It’s, uh nothing serious.” He felt compelled to say. Maybe
it was the nerves of the situation, but their conversation suddenly felt a lot
more stand-offish then he had wanted. Best to pacify the situation. “I just
wanted to ask about your tattoo.”

“Ah.” Her voice betrayed no emotion. “Is that all?”

“I was curious.” He shrugged. “Didn’t figure your old man
would approve of such a thing.”

“As a matter of fact, he’s the reason I got it.”

He couldn’t resist turning to her in surprise. Well, maybe
not *surprise*, because he had figured
that the emperor had to have approved of the inking – especially something as
large and blatant as that. (It wasn’t, like, a little symbol on her back or
something, it was a ruddy great phoenix all across her forearm and beyond.) It
was more like… just interest. She offered him no emotion, which was to be
expected, but continued to talk anyway. Which was nice. And at least she wanted
to talk about it.

“It’s a family tradition.” She explained. “There’s a lot of
symbolism behind the symbol of the phoenix, did you know that?”

Loden wracked his brains, but couldn’t come up with
anything. Not that he had honestly expected to know what a phoenix meant to a
princess. He was neither.

“’Fraid not.” He sighed. Miyuki nodded understanding before
continuing to talk. By this point, both were standing with their backs to the
buffet table, watching the lords and ladies mingle throughout the rest of the
room. There was no eye contact – or even any physical contact – but there was
something of a connection between them by this point. At least, Loden hoped
there was. It would help with their husband and wife story.

“The phoenix is a symbol of the empress, and royal females.”
Continued Miyuki. “It is customary within my family for females to get a
phoenix tattoo. Respectively, the men get a tattoo of a dragon – and on their
right shoulder, as opposed to their left.”

“Let me guess.” Loden filled in. “The dragon is the symbol
of the emperor, and royal males.”

“Correct, prince of nonsense.” She said to him. “My father,
the emperor, has a dragon tattoo. His father had one also. And I expect that
whoever I wed shall one day bear the same image.”

“I should have one.” He remarked. She turned to him, and he
shrugged. “Add more to our marriage story.”

She smiled. “It’s only for the evening. I wouldn’t ask you
to do something so drastic just for that.”

He shrugged again, not knowing quite how else to physically
react. “Maybe I’d want one anyway.”

She pursed her lips. “Do you?”

He smirked, rolling his shoulders as he stood up a little
straighter. “What can I say? Dragons are cool.”

She nodded a small acknowledgement, and no further words
were said for a little while. The ever-present hum of voices echoing around the
room remained constant. If anything, Loden could hear it getting a little
louder. (Presumably as time passed, and they got closer to the actual auction.
It was the main event, after all.) He hummed to himself a fair part of the
time, not quite sure what else to do. Not that he wasn’t against socialising,
but an environment like this wasn’t exactly something he was used to.

The environment itself was still nice enough that the
situation hadn’t really hit Loden yet. On top of the fancy attire and venue,
there was now a band sitting on the upper levels and playing slow and sweet
music – the sort of music that encouraged warmth, and intimacy, and it was
putting Loden to *SLEEP*-

He shook his head slightly. Compared to the snowy outside,
the warmth in the hall was a cosy bordering on stifling. Fatigue was also
hitting him. Embarrassingly unprofessional, all thing considered. *Wake up, man*, he told himself, *you’re on a rescue mission*. A glance to
his side revealed that Miyuki seemed to be having no such troubles. (Though, to
be fair, she was a lot better at hiding reactions than he was. She COULD have
been just as tired as him, and just not have been showing it.) He pinched his
own arm, trying to convince himself to stay alert.

Things remained slow. Several times, someone approached him
and made shallow conversation. Most of the time, he was able to handle it (with
a little help from Miyuki, whenever necessary), but he almost found himself
bored. The conversations weren’t interesting, and nobody even suspected a
thing. Which was *technically* a good
thing, but it was also a little… anticlimactic. He felt himself beginning to
yawn, and hastily stifled it. Miyuki glanced at him out of the corner of her
eyes as she surveyed the room – she had finally developed something of an
appetite, and was busy nibbling daintily at some kind of meat. He didn’t
recognise it.

“Don’t let your guard down.” She murmured in his direction.
He rolled his eyes in response. Fatigue and unawareness were two… well, two *mostly* different things.

“Sorry.”

Miyuki let out a small sigh through her nose, before popping
the rest of the meat (maybe some type of seafood? Loden still wasn’t sure) into
her mouth and wiping her fingers on a handkerchief. The origins of this
handkerchief were a mystery. Loden wasn’t going to dwell on it. He wasn’t going
to dwell on a lot of things. The boredom was really taking hold now, to the
point where he initially didn’t notice Miyuki’s outstretched hand. When he did,
it snapped him out of his stupor quite quickly.

“Princess…?”

“Come on.” Her fingers twitched, perhaps with impatience.
“We’ve stayed in the same position too long, and don’t think I can’t see you
falling asleep beside me.”

“I’m not asleep!” He protested. And he wasn’t! It was really
stuffy inside the actual hall, that was all. And there was nothing to do. Not
that he told any of this to Miyuki, of course, because she had already seized
his hand in her own. Something of a feat, considering. Miyuki’s hands were a
lot smaller and daintier than his. There was, however, a surprising amount of
strength in her grip. It was this above all else that motivated him to raise an
eyebrow and stare at her – though she appeared to misunderstand.

“How would you prefer me to move you?” She asked him,
staring him down with those intense eyes of hers. “Pulling your hand, or
pushing your back? Or would you prefer to move on your own terms?”

“I can move.” He protested, managing to pull his hand out of
hers. “Just tell me what we’re doing.”

She indicated with her other hand, to a large section of
space full of people moving. The details of their movement hit him just as she
said the word:

“Dancing.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” His arms slumped, deadened,
to his sides. It wasn’t that he was necessarily against the idea of dancing (at
least, as a… as a *thing*), but it just
seemed like a terrible time. Their friend was imprisoned somewhere in the
mansion, and their other friends were sneaking around looking for them. And he
and her were going to just dance in the hall? It didn’t sit right with him.

“I know.” Miyuki muttered. “It seems… in poor taste.”

With a start, Loden remembered the circumstances of the
gathering once again. An auction. For people. And they were all dancing like it
was some kind of ball. It felt as though his stomach was tying itself into
knots, and he wasn’t quite sure whether he wanted to laugh or be sick.

Well, it wasn’t like anyone had said that this undercover
business was going to be *easy*.

“Let’s get this over with.” He said darkly, before turning
to Miyuki and offering her his hand once again. “May I have,” he said through
gritted teeth, “this dance?”

He felt her fingers twine with his, and they began to stalk
forwards as one.

“You may.” She sounded as stony as he felt. After a moment,
they found themselves amidst a throng of people twirling in rhythm, clinging to
one another as they moved with the music (which seemed to have gotten a little
faster, though Loden couldn’t be completely sure). It was here that Loden
realised something else.

Damn.

“I can’t dance.” He confessed, even as he and Miyuki turned
to face one another, intertwining their hands. “Like, not formally.” The two
were quite close, now – he had to look down, and she had to look up, in order
for them to meet each other’s eyes. “I’ve danced before, but not… not like
this.”

Miyuki breathed sharply through the nose (which, by her
standards, was a sign of *deep*
agitation). She began to tug on his arm, and he felt himself lumber forward as
she stepped backwards.

“Well then,” she said, betraying no further emotion, “I
suppose I’ll just have to lead.”

He felt her pull on his arm again, and he remained obedient,
mimicking her motions as the two began to fall into a swaying sort of rhythm. After
a moment, some familiarity eased into their movement – for Miyuki, Loden figured
that she had practiced formal dance movements before. (Because court life, or
whatever.) On his part? Well, he had certainly danced before, even if it was
nothing like this, and he could feel the sense of rhythm and tandem-based
movement through their admittedly stiff movements.

Miyuki led him on, and after another moment, they began to
turn and sway to the music. It was a low melody on some… Loden spared a glance
upwards to the band. He didn’t recognise the instruments they were playing. But
the music that they were making flowed like a river. If rivers were slow and
sad. And deep. Yeah, there was definitely a metaphor in there somewhere. But it
*was* interesting. Most of the music
that Loden had heard was beats, and people hitting things, but this was smooth.
It felt, to him, as though he were flying after walking all his life. He
smiled, in spite of himself.

“Enjoying yourself?” He couldn’t identify Miyuki’s tone –
was she chiding him for distraction, or happy for him? He couldn’t tell.
Looking down at her face again didn’t help.

“Only a little.” He admitted, before sighing. “We didn’t
organise a way to meet up with the others or anything. We didn’t… we didn’t
think this through.”

Miyuki said nothing for a moment, and Loden kept an ear open
as they moved. He had taken to this dancing lark quickly – the two were
stepping with one another in tandem. Suddenly feeling impulsive, he observed
the surrounding dancers – some of whom were moving more daringly, spinning one
another around, leaning back and grasping each other’s hands for balance. He
waited a moment, before throwing caution to the wind and pulling Miyuki’s arm
up.

She raised an eyebrow at him, but leant into the spin,
twirling round where she stood before almost falling against his chest for
balance. When they met eyes again, her expression remained unreadable.

He shrugged. “Wanted to try something interesting.”

She nodded a single nod – one of assent – but said nothing
else.

No further spins were attempted.

Loden kept his eye on the door that Iamos and Azura had
disappeared through, eying the other visible doors as well. There was no sign
of them *or* Daiyu. Surely, some of
them would have appeared by now? “When,” Loden muttered after an uncertain
amount of time slowly swaying with Miyuki, “is this damned auction going to
start?”

“Soon, I daresay.” Miyuki’s eyes flickered over to the
windows. It was pitch black outside. “I doubt that they would have this event
last until the morning.”

As if on cue, the players on the upper levels stopped
playing the music, and the wide space of room – the dance floor – cleared
quickly. Loden pulled Miyuki alongside him as he struggled to remain in sync
with the crowd. He didn’t want to risk getting singled out for *any* reason.

A new man stepped onto the stage. (New, as in, Loden hadn’t
seen him mingling with the rest of the crowd.) He wore a suit similar to
Loden’s, Cheinise style, and looked as though he were from the Empire himself,
with black hair and pale skin similar to Miyuki’s. Also like Miyuki, he had a
tattoo – a pattern inked into his skin. His was on the back of his hand. It was
barely visible, but the dark ink was enough of a contrast to his ivory-toned
skin that Loden was able to just about spot it. Was it significant? He had no
idea, but it was an interesting little detail.

He was good at noticing those.

Hastily, he and Miyuki headed towards the seats, which were
filling with people as the room’s occupants sat down to listen to whatever this
may have had to say. (Though everyone probably had a… *decent* idea of what was about to happen.) When the man spoke, the
thing that really stood out to Loden was the showboating. Whether it was the
booming voice or the expressive hand gestures, this announcer man was obviously
doing his best to make the auction look like some kind of theatre play. Maybe
it was to distract everyone from the truth.

Miyuki shot him a glance as the announcer talked on –
something about “the most diverse selection yet” – and muttered so subtly he
almost missed it: “Keep an eye out for Daiyu.”

He tilted his head ever-so-slightly as a nod of affirmation.
“I haven’t forgotten the mission, princess.”

Minutes that feel like hours trickled by, like sand in an
hourglass, until the announcer suddenly took a step forward to make room on the
stage for what must have been at least a dozen different people. They all wore
clothing that both looked like and was in the same shape as a potato sack, and
some of them bore the marks of old wounds. Surprisingly enough, they themselves
looked relatively presentable. Clean hair and skin, all that fun stuff. If Loden
had to guess, he figured that they must have been cleaned and brushed up to
look more appealing. More buy-able. For the tenth or so time, he shuddered as
the weight of what was really happening hit him.

It was as he was considering all of that that Miyuki lightly
smacked his arm, drawing out of his thoughts. Before he could even whisper a
question, she furiously (was that anger in her eyes, or… or something closer to
fear?) tilted her head towards the stage, and hissed:

“*Daiyu’s not up there!*”

**14: MASTER AND SLAVE**

Nervously doing an about term and stumbling away from the
third guard to catch them and give them directions back to the main hall, Iamos
reckoned that he had just about enough of sneaking around on rich people’s
property. Once they rescued Daiyu, no more palaces or mansions for him. Unless
he received an explicit invite. Then, maybe, he would *consider*.

To her credit, Azura seemed unperturbed by the constant
confrontations. With guidance from him on which halls they had actually been
down before (she seemed unable to remember, and had to be reminded that a route
had already been attempted on more than occasion), she was eagerly scampering
down the corridors, bunching her dress in her fists and holding it above the
ground so that she could move faster and with a greater comfort. If she was
nervous, she didn’t show it, instead displaying an excitement that even Iamos
could pick up on. Not for the first time, he wondered if his sister even had a
working sense of fear.

At any rate, at least *someone*
appeared to be enjoying themselves.

“Did we go down *here*
before?” She asked, turning around to face him. Though she was standing still,
one of her ankles was quivering as the leg bounced up and down. Yet another
symptom of possessing energy surplus to requirements.

Iamos gave pause to his own walking in order to examine this
latest hallway. At the end was a flight of stairs that descended to some kind
of lower level. None of the other places they had been had had a feature such
as this, and a lower level seemed an apt place to keep kidnapped slaves-to-be.

“No.” He said, and Azura all but bolted off down the hallway,
making a lot more noise than Iamos found himself comfortable with as her feet
clacked loudly on the stone floor with every step she took. What if they were
overheard?

Iamos, unfortunately, found an answer to his question a lot
quicker than he would have liked, as the sound of footsteps echoed out from the
stairs. Azura stopped in her tracks, so rigid she was statuesque, as an
armoured guard emerged, clutching a scabbarded sword and scowling fiercely at
the two of them. He expected the man to ask them what they were doing there,
but he said nothing, instead eying them and flexing his fingers on the sword’s
hilt. Clearly, no questions were going to be asked if they tried anything
suspicious. Having not moved, Azura took a step backwards, only for the guard
to match her step with his own. She paused. Then, she took another step. So did
he.

At this point, Iamos reasoned that the best option he had
was to incapacitate this guard and continue down the stairs, which had to have *something* important at the end if they
were so protected – hopefully, it was the prisoners. Iamos wasn’t sure what
else it could be, and there was little of him that truly wanted to know.
However, he was distracted by a more pressing matter: how to deal with the man
blocking their way, before he made a move to attack Azura? (Which seemed to be
looming, as the man eyed her warily, waiting for her to move again.)

At the moment, there was no earth surrounding them. Plaster
and stone and brick he *might* have
been able to move, but he was unwilling to take that chance. There was no water,
or sand, or ice. That left air as his only resource, but how best to utilise
it? Master Rainer had cautioned him on the use of air, citing incidents where
alchemists had suffocated people by depriving them of oxygen, or even caused
their bodies irreparable damage by changing the air pressure around them. He
didn’t even want to *try* that. There
was what he had done before, which was change the air pressure and stun the
target with a noise, but he wasn’t sure if he or Azura would be able to fully
take out the guard before he recovered from the attack.

There was also the option of manipulating air currents to
create powerful gusts of wind. Perhaps one of those would be enough to send the
guard into a wall and incapacitate or daze him? It would probably be more
time-effective than manipulating the air, and-

The guard gave up on the stand-off he and Azura had been
having, and settled for suddenly charging her, unsheathing his sword. No time
to think – just to create a strong enough gust. The guard was suddenly blasted
to the left, dropping his sword as he did so. The metal hit the floor with a
clang. However, the guard shook off his daze quickly, scrambling on the floor
to try and rise with his heavy armour. Iamos estimated that they had a few
seconds – only for his thoughts to be violently interrupted by the sight of
Azura darting forward and stabbing the flailing man in the side. He howled in
pain, before locking eyes with her and trying to rise. Without hesitation, she
lashed out again, this time attacking the thigh of the leg he was trying to
stand on. He yelled again, and fell to the ground, bleeding from the two
wounds.

Azura rose, and Iamos saw in her hand the screw that had
been holding her hair in a bun. The hair itself now fell loosely around Azura’s
head, slightly frizzy from being pinned in position for so long. He tried to
say something, but paused when he realised that he wasn’t quite sure what to
say. She helped by grabbing his hand and pulling him past the guard, who was
too preoccupied with his injuries to worry about them, and down the stairs. The
air grew dusty and stifling, and Iamos sneezed as they ran. The sound echoed,
and was met with movement from within. Probably another guard.

Sure enough, as they reached the foot of the stairs, they
saw another man running towards them in the now narrow corridor that they found
themselves in. Azura pushed Iamos backwards, holding the screw in her hand like
a knife, but Iamos found himself uncomfortable with the idea of letting his
sister stab someone else. He looked around. They were still surrounded by rock,
but now, it looked a lot more like aged stone. There were even a couple of
drops of moisture sliding down from the ceiling. It was a lot closer to
conventional stone than the walls of the mansion, which meant that he would be
a lot more successful in manipulating it. A moment later, the floor abruptly
shot up an inch or two, and the guard was sent sprawling as he tripped over the
newly-created step. Wasting no time, Azura seized Iamos’ hand again, and the
two sprinted down the hallway, physically running over the man’s sprawled body
as they did so. After reaching the end of the hall and coming across a wooden
door, Iamos turned back and forced the cobbled ground behind them rise to meet
the ceiling, cutting off their route.

“Will we be able to get out afterward?” Azura asked him.
Iamos wasn’t sure. At the very least, they had been bought some time. He
shrugged.

“Great.” She muttered as a response, before turning around
and squinting at the door, as if she didn’t trust it to not have a group of
guards hiding behind it. “Well, we only have one way to go now-” Her speech was
cut short as she tried to turn the door’s handle, only for said handle to
remain unresponsive and un-turning. The door had to be locked. Azura rolled her
eyes, groaning melodramatically.

“We only have *no*
way to go now.” She said, before turning to Iamos. “What can your alchemy do
that doesn’t involve lowering that wall and giving those guards a clear path to
us? Because if you do that, we’ll have no way to escape, and we’ll probably be
killed, or-”

“I get it.” Iamos cut her off, rubbing his temple as he felt
the beginnings of a headache coming on. He thought to himself. What *could* he do, anyway? The lock itself was
made of metal, which he hadn’t learnt how to manipulate. Perhaps if he had stayed
with Rainer… no. He was being fanciful. It had been weeks at most since he had
left, he probably wouldn’t have learnt anything important in that time anyway.

He would have made *some*
semblance of progress, though.

Pushing the negative intrusive thoughts away, he focused
again. The metal lock was un-manipulatable. That was a fact, at the moment.
What else could he do? Perhaps he would have more luck with the wood of the
door? It was plant matter, which he had technically never learnt to manipulate,
but he knew that it was achieved through a combination of earth and water
alchemy, which were both branches that he had mastered. He peered at the door
again. It didn’t… it didn’t *feel* like
it could be manipulated by him. When doing alchemy, it was as though he could
almost sense the energy around him – at least, whatever he could manipulate
would give off a strange sort of wave, or feeling. But things that he couldn’t
yet transmutate, like fire or metal, felt completely blank to him. The door was
the same. It felt listless, and he realised with a jolt that he could try all
he liked, but he didn’t yet have any abilities that would help him get past it.

So much for that idea.

He moved his attention away from the door, skirting his
senses around the area that he and Azura were hiding in. He could feel a low
buzz emit from the ground, and from the wall he had built. There was also a
feeling coming from the wall *around*
the door, which was made of the same stone that he had previously been able to
manipulate.

It wasn’t conventional, but when had that ever stopped him
before? The wall beside the door began to slide to the side, creating an
opening between stone and wood big enough for Iamos and then Azura to slip
through.

Through the hole was an exceedingly long hallway, dimly lit
by a few burning torches. Moss and moisture was everywhere, to the point where
Iamos had to shuffle away from the nearest wall to avoid getting warm water all
over himself. It didn’t feel nice. However, he was distracted from his
discomfort by the sound of Azura’s mutter:

“Oh.”

He turned to her, the question “what is it?” on his lips,
but found that there was no need as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Through
the hallway were a multitude of prison cells – with almost all of them filled.
People dressed in rags with matted and unkempt hair crawled or stumbled towards
the bars of their cells. Iamos felt a violent shudder course through him at the
feeling of so many eyes upon him, every nerve screaming to step backwards and
out of sight. He swallowed.

Abruptly, Azura seized his wrist in a vice-like grip. He
winced, but used the physical contact to ground him and keep him stable. They
had a job to do. A duty. They had to find Daiyu. That was what they had come
there to do. He looked to his sister, trying to non-verbally convey his
gratitude. She gave him a slight nod in response, which was a good sign, before
turning to face the hallway.

“Daiyu!”

Iamos all but jumped out of his skin at Azura’s yell. Heart
pumping fit to burst, he shot a glare at his sister, who promptly ignored his
discomfort. Was it the most logical thing to do? In short: yes. Could she have
warned him? Probably not. He tried to still his nerves as he scanned the cells,
anxiety building. He couldn’t properly see any of the people in them, but she
surely would have responded to her name. Surely.

Azura called out again, and the noise appeared to break some
kind of invisible barrier as all of the prisoners began to mutter amongst
themselves, as the began to give in to curiosity. Another painful second or two
passed before a reply echoed out.

“Hello?”

“Daiyu!” Azura began to run forwards, only to almost trip
over her dress – Iamos grabbed her arm and pulled her back upright, before
calling out again.

“Where are you?”

“F- Follow my voice!” She replied. There was a quiver in
said voice that Iamos picked up on, recognising the tone as similar to the one
she had used when they had first met, and she had been cornered. She was
afraid.

“We’re coming.” He said, strongly, his voice echoing out around
the chamber. “We’re coming.”

A bang rang out from one of the further cells. The metal
bars clattered in their sockets. Squinting, Iamos could just make out a hand
sticking through the bars, waving them over.

Azura took off again, this time remember to keep ahold of
her dress. Iamos hastily followed, cloak billowing behind him like a cape as he
sprinted alongside his sister, skidding to a stop outside Daiyu’s cell so
abruptly that he almost slipped over on the damp floor. He could barely make
out her form, so dark were the surrounds, but he could see her figure strain to
reach them through the bars. Without thinking, he clasped Daiyu’s hand in his
own.

“We’re getting you out of here.” He said. “I promise.” He
then proceeded to block out whatever Azura and Daiyu were saying – the two
appeared to start talking to one another – and looked around the cell. The bars
were metal, and he couldn’t do metal. However, everything else was stone and
earth.

Piece of metaphorical cake.

“Step back.” He ordered, releasing Daiyu’s hand. She
faltered for a moment, before nodding and retreating into the depths of her
cell. After she had done so, the ground below her cell began to move upward,
constricting and crushing the bars as they were pushed against the ceiling.
Metallic screeches and cracks echoed throughout the hallway, and the ambient
muttering that had begun earlier was now completely silent – presumably,
everyone was staring at what was happening. Stepping back to avoid one bar as
fell towards him, Iamos then carefully moved the central portion of stone and
earth back into the ground whilst leaving the rim of the block he had raised in
its new position. The result was something a bit low to the ground, akin to an
impromptu doorway – but it was easily high enough for Daiyu to duck under,
which she hastened to do, panting and scrabbling on the stone as she stood up
and almost ran out of the cell. Straight towards him.

Before Iamos could say anything, Daiyu had latched herself
to him like a leech. He tensed up at the contact, stumbling backwards and
almost outright falling backwards. Instead, however, he managed to control
himself, even tentatively placing his hands on Daiyu’s shoulders once he
realised that she was hugging him. They stood still for a moment before she suddenly
crumpled, Iamos letting out a wheeze as he was pulled down by the neck, the two
sinking to their knees. Frowning, Iamos was about to try and get Daiyu to let
go of him – he was given pause, however, by the realisation that she was
crying.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck as she wept,
wrapping her arms around him in an embrace so tight that he genuinely struggled
to breathe. It was as though she was afraid of disappearing or being spirited
away. He felt for her, in spite of himself. Slowly and awkwardly, he patted her
shoulder as she sobbed. He half-expected Azura to laugh or make fun of them,
but instead, he saw her crouch down beside the pair, and tenderly stroke
Daiyu’s head in what he recognised as an expression of sympathy and comfort. Daiyu
wriggled in his grip, as if trying to grasp any remaining semblance of comfort.
She was saying something, words choked by sobs. As if he didn’t have enough to
focus on already-! He tried to make out what she was saying.

“…Thank you.” She spoke with a shudder, heaving in gasps of
air as repeated it over and over again. “Thank you. T-Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you…!”

Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, Iamos tightened the
embrace, hesitantly clinging to her in turn. He tried to steady his own
breathing, even though he was being hit with wave after wave of relief and
gratitude. He blinked back tears of his own.

“…It’s alright.” He managed to say. “We’re here. We’re here,
now.”

“We’re *all* here.”
Azura added. “We came to get you.”

Daiyu sobbed harder.

Azura looked pointedly as Iamos, who shrugged. What was he
supposed to do in this situation?

“We have,” Azura said pointedly, “only so much time.”

That was true, Iamos realised. They had to reconvene with
Loden and Miyuki and then get out of there without being caught – which would
be especially hard now that the guards were onto them. He patted Daiyu’s
shoulders again.

“To be continued?” He suggested, finding it to be the least
confrontational phrase he could come up with. A heartbeat – then Daiyu nodded,
and began to loosen her grip around his neck and shoulders. He breathed a sigh
of relief.

Daiyu leant back and rubbed her eyes, brushing away the
traces of her gratitude-induced hysteria. She was wearing a grubby long tunic
that looked like it had been fashioned from spare cloth, which was stained and
damp. How frightening must it have been, he wondered, to be trapped here?
Before he could think of anything to say, someone called out from one of the
cells.

“What about us?”

Is was as though that question had opened some kind of
floodgate. Within moments, everyone was shouting, begging, calling out to them.
To *him*. They wanted to be let out of
their cells too. He could feel his breathing grow ragged. Their voices slurred
into one ugly mass of noise, burrowing its way into his ears and invading his
head, even after he clamped his hands over his ears. It was too much. Too much.
He wasn’t sure if it was the stress of everything or how tightly Daiyu had held
onto him or the fact that she had been so emotional (which made him emotional)
or the fact that everyone was shouting at him – it was probably some kind of
mixture – his knees trembled and he hunched over, trying to sink into his cloak
and just *get away*-

There was a lot of spit in his mouth. He gasped, no longer
breathing through his nose, staring at the ground as he tried to collect his
composure. He sucked in a shaky breath before forcing himself to swallow and
clear his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Daiyu reaching out
to him. He recoiled without thinking, pulling away and twitching. Everything
was white noise. For a terrible moment, he wanted to just curl up into a ball
and ignore everything. Sink into himself and give himself time to come to terms
with the sensory overload. But he *couldn’t*.
They had to go. They had to get out of there. They had to…

Iamos lifted his head just in time to lock eyes with one of
the people in the cells. This person wasn’t shouting. Not screaming, not
pleading with him, not kicking up a storm. They just gave him a look that told
him everything. A look that, without using any painful words or sounds or
sensations, talked of their fear and their pain and their misery.

A look that said, “*help*
me. Please.*”*

Logically, it was a very bad decision. He knew that. But he
understood one fundamental truth: if he saved himself and left everyone else in
their cells, he would carry a guilty weight with him for a very long time. And
nothing was worth that.

Clawing back some level of composure, he rose again.
Stabilising his breathing, he stood up straight, sighting through his nose,
before turning to the nearest cell. Same procedure, really. Raise the ground,
then create a new opening. In what felt like seconds, no less than three people
were stumbling out of the cell adjacent to Daiyu’s, walking on unsteady legs.
One of them turned to face him, tears brewing in his eyes (for it was a man).

“Thank you.” He said, his voice a hoarse whisper in the
cavern. The muttering was back, but Iamos blocked it out. He had to block it
out. He nodded, once, in response before turning and addressing the corridor.

“I’ll let you all out.” He said. “It’ll take time. The
guards already know we’re here somewhere, so I don’t know how long I have.
Sorry in advance if I can’t get all of you out, but in the meantime, I need you
all to be quiet. I don’t want there to be any more indicators than necessary
that I’m here.”

The muttering died down, and he physically felt a weight
leave his shoulders. There was no sound now beyond the ambient *drip-drip-drip* of moisture from the
ceiling, and he found that to be almost soothing. Azura, Daiyu, and the other
people he had saved stood back as he approached the next cell, watching him
work. He couldn’t help but wonder why Azura and Daiyu hadn’t objected to his
decision to help everybody. It wasn’t practical, after all. Then again, they
were both compassionate sorts, from what he had noticed. They probably agreed
with him, thought that it was the right thing to do. The idea brought him a
little comfort.

He worked in silence, quickly breaking through the cells one
by one, letting their occupants flood into the hallway. Unlike Daiyu, there
were no drawn-out demonstrations of gratitude. They all understood the
necessity of brevity. Instead, they stood back, occasionally almost tripping
over the rocks or broken pieces of iron bar that Iamos’ alchemy left in its
wake. He went systematically from cell to cell, trying to focus on the details
of the alchemy and ignore the panic-inducing bigger picture. It felt as though
it had taken days, yet it *also* felt
as though no time had passed at all. It was a contradiction, but it wasn’t as
though he was going to dwell on it.

Eventually, everyone was out. They stared at him, looking to
him for some kind of instructions or leadership, and their attention was
beginning to draw back the onset of panic. Iamos knew that he couldn’t afford
to have another episode like that, so he wordlessly turned and began to walk to
the entrance that he and Azura had come through. He could lower the wall, and
if the guards had circled round to find another entrance, they may not be there
to cut him off. He and this new group could head outside the manor, and that
would be that. It was dangerous, yes, but there was safety in numbers, and-

“Wait!”

Daiyu’s voice stopped him a footstep away from the door.
Turning back, he saw that she was looking at the ground, twisting her fingers
around and around in a nervous gesture. She didn’t look up as she spoke.

“Some… some people were taken to tonight’s auction.” She
said. “Can we help them, too?”

First reaction? A number of swear words rattling around in
his head, as though he had been temporarily possessed by a tantrum-throwing
adolescent.

Second reaction? Practical considerations. Those who had
been taken may well have gone already, and they would almost certainly have a
guard of some kind. He didn’t want to put anyone in danger.

“Can we?” He heard himself asking, almost as if he was
observing a stranger. “You all know the routines better than I do. Is there
anything that can be done?”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, one man stepped
forward, the echo of his bare feet hitting the stone floor rebounding around
the hallway.

“When we’re sold, they usually take people into a room down
there.” He pointed to the far end of the corridor, in the opposite direction.
“They use magic to bond people to them, but there’s still an opportunity to get
free before the ceremony.”

“Magic?” Azura echoed, alarmed, though this barely
registered to Iamos. He turned to the assembled crowd.

“What do the rest of you think?”

There was a low hum of voices. Iamos could make out some
instances of assent and some instances of dissent, but no decisive decision
appeared to be reached.

“My friend.” He heard Daiyu’s voice. Was she speaking to
him, or to someone else? He wasn’t sure. “She helped me when I was at my lowest
point, and she was taken up. If there’s any chance that we can save her…” She
trailed off. He clenched his fists anxiously. Like it or not, he knew what his
choice was going to be. What it always *would*
be.

“Your friend. It wouldn’t-” he trailed off as everyone paid
attention to him again, before sucking in another slow breath and composing
himself again, turning to face Daiyu. Making that oh-so-important eye contact,
to show her the seriousness of his words. “It wouldn’t be right, to leave her
behind. Or any of the rest of them.” He turned to the man who had spoken. He
didn’t know his name, but that didn’t matter. None of it did. “Lead the way.”

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

The traipse down the corridor was quick. Iamos and the man
guiding him were at the head of the procession. They were followed by Azura,
Daiyu, and all of the other people he had freed – how many, he wasn’t sure,
though it was probably something between thirty or forty individuals.

After all of the earlier commotion, the silence was
deafening.

Iamos an eye out for any guards heading towards them, but
no-one came. Something of a silver lining. Perhaps the guards assumed that his
wall was some kind of temporary magic, or perhaps there was no other easy entrance
into this basement (which was really more a set of catacombs than anything
else). Either way, he wasn’t going to complain.

They happened upon the aforementioned “room” within a
relatively short space of time. Placing a finger to his lips, the young man
crept towards the doorway. It was closed, but some kind of red light shone out
from under the door. Going by the stereotype, a glowing red light was a bad
sign, but Iamos followed, shuffling slowly along the ground to make as little
noise as possible. All of the prisoners must have been used to keeping quiet,
because they were wordless – and even Azura managed not to say anything. He was
thankful that whatever compulsion she had to fill the silence appeared to be
suppressed by the knowledge of how dangerous their situation was.

Turning to Iamos, the man spoke in a low whisper.

“It’s some kind of ritual.” He said. “No-one knows the exact
details. But it’s some kind of magical bond that is created between the buyer
and the slave. Once it is done, I do not think it is physically possible for
the slave to leave the master.” His scowled. “It’s some bad magic.”

Iamos nodded in affirmation. If that was true, they only had
so much time. Meanwhile, Azura crept past the two of them and put her ear to
the door. This lasted for a few seconds before she turned to Iamos, and
mouthed:

“*Someone’s in there!*”

Iamos nodded and then asked, “What are they saying?” He
tried to keep his voice quiet, but he had to hiss to get the message across to
Azura. Everyone froze for a moment at the loud noise, but they remained
undisturbed, and they eventually relaxed ever-so-slightly. They were still
safe. Azura crawled back to where Iamos was standing (pressed flat against the
wall) and stood up.

“I have no idea.” She admitted. “It’s a language that I
don’t understand.”

“Was naming mentioned, or something of the sort, mentioned?”
Someone else asked. Iamos looked behind him. A woman. Azura furrowed her brow,
then nodded. The woman shook her head in dismay.

“It’s too late for that one.” She said in dismay.

“You can be sure?” Iamos said in surprise. The woman nodded.

“All of the other enchantments, such as bonding, are added
to a person first. After that, their new master is named so that they can be
bound to that specific person. If they are already about to name a master, the
enchantment is on them either way. At least, that’s all that I’ve overheard.”

“Couldn’t we just interrupt?” Suggested Azura, even as Iamos
thought. He shook his head.

“I only have… so much arcane experience.” He said, still
whispering, making sure to not use the word “alchemy”. That was one can of
worms he had no intention of opening, especially not at such a crucial moment.
“And in my experience, cutting something off halfway can backfire. This spell
sounds powerful – who knows what might happen if we actually make it fail?”

While they were talking, Daiyu had crept to the door. There
was a keyhole below the handle, which Iamos noticed her stare through. Just as
he finished his thought, she turned back to him in a panic.

“That’s Akane!” She said. “My friend!”

“Uther’s ghost.” Iamos and Azura both darted towards the
door. Behind it, Iamos could hear muffled words.

“*…bron wedi'i wneud. And*
to complete the final segment.*”*

Iamos looked back to Daiyu, who looked catatonic. What was
he supposed to do? By his side, Azura tensed.

“*Name the master*,”
continued whoever was speaking in the other room,“*who comes to claim this*
servant.*”*

The next moment was nothing more than that. A moment. And
yet-

Azura, in one frantic and energized moment, most likely
using all of the nervous energy she had built up, all but jumped up and
frantically twisted the door handle so far Iamos couldn’t help but wonder if
she had broken something. The door fell open, and Iamos – who had been leaning
on said door – fell on his side, head painfully knocking against the stone
floor. Hissing in pain, he looked up to see a glowing red light from some kind
of magic circle, and over a dozen very startled-looking people. However, he
didn’t have time to process anything before his sister screamed out loud:

“Iamos Wilder!”

It didn’t hurt: that was the odd thing. It was slightly
uncomfortable, a little too hot, but it didn’t feel painful. Nevertheless, he
clamped his hand over his shoulder (the left one) as though it had been
stabbed. Fingers twitching, he felt the warm feeling persist, moving around
slightly as if there were some kind of eel under his cloths. Under his *skin*. He hoped there wasn’t.

The red light died down, and all was quiet for a moment.
Then, there were footsteps. Azura stumbled backwards and out of the chamber as
a figure, ignoring Iamos, sprinted past in some kind of attempt to catch her.
Before Iamos could do anything, they reached the corridor, and proceeded to be
tackled by Azura and several other people, who grabbed onto their limbs and
restrained them. Rising to his feet, Iamos looked into the chamber to survey
everything else. About eight people in rags, the same number in formal wear,
guards, and one man in red robes who was glowering at him in apoplectic fury.
Unconsciously, Iamos clenched his shoulder again.

“You-!” He hissed, starting forward. Not thinking, Iamos
focused. The rock around the man’s feet rose jerkily, causing him to stumble
and fall forwards. A bit of the ground rose up to meet his stomach, slamming
into his abdomen. Winded, the red-robed man rolled over onto solid ground,
huffing and trying to catch his breath. Everyone else stepped back in fear as
Iamos rose. He wasn’t sure how he must have looked, then – some kind of mess
with his formal wear dishevelled and any semblance of pretence completely gone.
But seeing as everyone appeared to be hesitating…

“You.” He pointed to all of the figures clad in sparse
clothing, like the ones who had been in the cells. They were all staring at him.
Seven or so of them were towards the back of the room, chained together with an
armed guard on either side. One sat in the middle of the room clutching her
shoulder. With a start, Iamos realised that: a.) this was probably Akane,
Daiyu’s friend, b.) they had been “bonded” together with magic, and c.) he had
absolutely no idea what the magic bond entailed beyond not being able to be
separated. He supposed that they would have to figure that out later. “With
me.”

One of the people in formal wear took an angry step forward.
“I won’t have this!” She said, crossly. “I paid good money for my…” She trailed
off as Iamos turned his gaze towards her. An anger was brewing in his chest at
the injustice of the situation, and he wasn’t about to tolerate it.

“You bought a human being, with the intention of having them
serve you against their will. You bought someone who was taken off the streets,
against their will. You bought someone who was going to be magically bonded to
you just so they could be a better servant.” His eyes narrowed with
ill-concealed disgust. And it *was*
disgust. He was disgusted. How *could*
they? “I don’t care what money you paid. You could have paid every coin to your
name, and it wouldn’t be enough. People aren’t objects, and they aren’t
property. And you would do well to remember so.” With that, he turned on his
heel and stalked out of the room, only just remembering to shout “Prisoners, to
me.”

The ones who had been in that room scampered after him,
joining him in the hallway to group up with everyone else who had been in the
cells. Without saying a word, Iamos turned and began to walk back the way he
came. Under almost any other circumstance, he would have been scared to venture
back – what if someone was lying in wait, either by the cells or behind his
wall, waiting to attack? However, a cold fury still flowed through his veins.
If someone wanted to fight him, so be it. At that moment, he would have liked
nothing more than to pummel someone into submission.

“Akane!” Daiyu shouted as she recognised her friend. Iamos
turned his head, and he had been right – she was the one he was now “bonded”
to. Well, that was an issue. He supposed that the first thing he ought to do
was to make sure that he didn’t forget her name, because doing so would be
hugely awkward given their situation. Akane. Akane. Ah-car-nay.

“Daiyu.” Akane greeted her friend in a surprisingly muted
fashion. Perhaps she was tired. He was tempted to stop for a brief moment, but
shook his feelings away. The longer the stayed, the less chance there was of an
escape. Time was still of the essence.

“We’re going back the way we came?” Azura asked him, running
until she was by his side (though she was still sort-of running to keep up with
his long strides).

“Yes.” Iamos said, simply. “We have what we came for and
then some. What we need to do now is find Loden and Miyuki, and then leave.”

“I guess stealth is out of the option.” Azura filled in.
“Are we going to take all of them with us when we find our friends?”

“Don’t think we have a choice.” Pointed out Iamos, before
shrugging. “Besides, if they were already sealing the deal down there, then the
auction must be over. I’d say that our best bet is to head straight for the
front gate, and hope that the others are there.”

“W-wait!” Daiyu called, pushing through the crowd to reach
his other side. “Won’t there be guards? We’ll have to fight?”

“Fine by me.” Iamos said, simply. Because, in all honesty,
on this particular occasion, it was. There had been moments in Iamos’ life such
as this, where he had felt his anger give him strength – he had never acted on
it in the past, thanks in part to the restraining influence of Rainer. But now,
not only was Rainer gone, but the past few weeks had easily been the most
stressful of Iamos’ life, between Rainer and Aedus and the moving around and
the crazy stressful events that seemed to have been happening nonstop since
leaving his village. Now, his friend had been kidnapped, he had been subjected
to hours of tension and moments such as everyone’s attention being on him (which
had bordered on being physically painful), and he still had a responsibility to
get everyone out. The worst part was that he couldn’t logically stop himself,
because his logic was in agreement with his anger. These people had kidnapped
other people to turn them into slaves. It was probably the *least* they deserved. It was only the responsibility he had to his
sister, to Daiyu, to Loden and Miyuki, and to everyone else, that kept him from
abandoning the plan and actively seeking out a fight there and then. For them,
he forced himself to retain a certain level of reasonable-ness.

It was fanciful of him, but he thought to himself that he
could almost feel his anger, flowing through him as surely as the blood in his
veins. It was a peculiar, contradictory sort of feeling – most people, he had
noticed, associated anger with shouting and erratic behaviour and a violent
storm that quickly wore itself out. Some sort of explosion of emotion that
never lasted long. It had never been that to him, though. He had always known
is as a slowly-building fountain of energy that cooled his veins and head,
heightening his senses and hyperfocusing him on the object of his fury. He
couldn’t remember ever shouting, when he was angry. When he was *truly* angry. He could only remember a
certain lapse of standards. A certain abandonment of inhibitions and
carefully-constructed restraints. After all, he would never normally not only
march towards a fight, but anticipate it. He would never normally look forward
to violence and wish to use the power he had to leave a wake of destruction.

He did now.

Before he even realised, they were back by the cells,
walking past them and approaching the door, the hole in the wall, and the stone
wall just outside that Iamos had initially risen. Without wasting a beat, Iamos
focused first on the walls surrounding the door (to create more room for the
complete group) and then the wall that he had made. Emotions swirling within
him like a tempest, he attempted to force the walls to retract. Their movements
were erratic, however – some shuddered and glitched as they moved, and some
remained where they were. His bangs slipped and fell in front of his face,
partially covering his eyes as he tried again, flexing his muscles as he tried
to extend his control over the earth. (The muscle thing was unnecessary, but by
this point he wanted a physical way to release his anger. It felt good.) The
remaining walls exploded, chunks of earth and stone gushing in all directions
like burst dams. The transmutation must have backfired, he dimly realised as
the way back up to the mansion finally cleared.

He was out of luck – there was no-one there. The guard he
and Azura had run over to pass must have retreated to notify his superiors of
the situation. Briefly, he wondered whether the first guard was still at the
top of the stairs, where he had fallen after Azura had stabbed him.

It was this thought that actually gave his fury pause. Not
only had he been anticipating an encounter with someone who had already been
defeated (and badly hurt as a result), but he had suddenly remembered the
uncomfortable feeling he had had when he had watched his sister fight with the
screw. He would she feel, he wondered, if the situation was reversed? Granted,
alchemy was rarely as visceral, but even so…

Conflicting feelings welled up inside of him, and he forced
himself to acknowledge them both – use the righteous fury to keep him active
and moving whilst embracing that feeling of discomfort, that feeling of *wrong-ness*, to hold him back and prevent
him from getting himself into any more trouble than necessary. A balance. Yes,
that was a good way to look at it. Stowing his quivering hands in the pockets
of his jacket, he began to walk forward again, leading the former prisoners up
the stairs and into the brightly-lit hallways of Evercrest mansion. Wasting no
time, he kept walking, even as groans erupted from the people behind him
(whether it was fatigue or discomfort at the light, he was neither sure nor
bothered).

“Is everyone still with me?” He asked, to be met with a
mumbled chorus of assent. Not wanting to place himself any further into the
limelight, he did not speak again. Instead, he was trying to focus on
navigation. The whole mansion was still winding and confusing, and he was
consistently forced to stop himself from physically shaking from nerves and
nervous energy as he strode forwards. All of the sound in the background slowly
faded, leaving him with nothing more than the sound of his own breathing
echoing in his ears. Could he remember the way out?

…vaguely.

The lefts and rights blended together in his memory once he
re-took them, as though their purpose in his memory had been exhausted once he
had retraced the steps. (Which was fair.) More than once, their march was
brought to a halt so that the wearier members of their party – the ones who had
been imprisoned for months on end – could rest, and catch their breath. But
these stops always had Iamos feeling antsy. They couldn’t afford it, surely?

Sure enough, their luck ran out when they were accosted by a
troop of armed guards. At least half a dozen. They stood in a row, fanning out
across the hallway and completely barring their path. Each one was armed with a
vicious-looking pike, a spiked metal point fused to a sturdy staff. Their
appearance instigated panic. After all, what could be done against them, when
most of the party was so weak? When the stand-off had begun, only Azura had
seemingly remained calm, marching forward to take a place beside Iamos, and
firmly clasping the screw in her hands. There were a couple of others who
seemed willing to fight (Akane, he noticed, amongst them), but he held them all
back, gesturing with both arms as he stepped forward.

He would have liked to tell himself that it was so no-one
could get hurt, or waste their time on fighting. Emphasis on “liked to”.

He took a mental step back, surveying the situation as the
guards lowered their weapons (as one – they were a smooth, cohesive unit) and
flicked through all of his options.

As it was, his alchemy let him manipulate earth, water, air,
ice, and sand. Those were the branches he had mastered, anyway. The surrounding
hallway was built from types of stone and brick – he could technically
manipulate it, but it would be difficult, considering how different it was from
pure earth. Air was always an option, but he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to
use air at this point. It almost felt… unsatisfactory.

His eye was drawn to the window, where outside, snow was
falling thick and fast outside, by now so intense that he could barely see
anything except a flurry of flakes diving past the glass. He wondered if that
could work. Between water and ice, he supposed, he could manipulate snow. Yes,
that would be a suitable weapon. But how to open the window without moving it?
At the right frequency, sound waves could shatter glass. But it would take a
bit of time, and a lot of focus, to tune the air so that producing a sound
would result in the glass breaking. The guards were moving in (albeit slowly –
probably erring on the side of caution due to how many prisoners there were
(they were quite outnumbered)), so he didn’t exactly have long.

The “blotting out” process was simple. One by one, the
objects in his peripheral sight began to fade out of focus, and the sounds
blotted out into a kind of white noise, as he forced himself to direct all of
his attention to the window and the air surrounding it. Then the air itself, as
if he were ever-so-slightly adjusting one of the dials that helped fly the
Origin. Aligning everything for the metaphorical shot. When he felt as though
it were ready, he ought to-

His focus, unfortunately, was cut short by one of the guards
taking a slightly too large, slightly too quick step. Snapping out of his
state, he glared at the offending guard. Well, if he couldn’t use soundwaves,
he could try to hit the window with an air gust forceful enough to break it-

“What are you even doing?”

For the second time, his focus was interrupted. Starting, he
turned to see Azura, her hands on her hips as she stared at him. Through gritted
teeth, he said:

“Trying to break the window.”

Rather than show any sympathy or thoughtfulness towards his
plight, his sister rolled her eyes.

“You *stupid*.” She
said, simply, before pulling one of her shoes – a heavyweight, heeled thing –
off her foot. The sudden movement seemed to spur the guards into action, and
they began to run forward in earnest towards the group, inciting a further
panic amongst the prisoners. Before Iamos could even ask what Azura thought she
was doing, she hefted the shoe with her arm and threw it full force towards the
window. It violently shattered, sending glass shards cascading to the floor,
and shocking everyone with a gust of cold air and snow.

Taking advantage of the situation, Iamos focused on the
snowflakes – accelerating the stream of snow until he had all but redirected
the storm to fly inside the mansion, and then getting to work with his
ever-growing arsenal. Shifting the snow to water, and then ice, he launched it
forward as sharp icicles that slammed into the guards’ armour and speared their
bodies. He didn’t think it was anything fatal, but it was certainly enough to
knock a fair amount of them down to the ground. Slivers of blood flew through
the air.

One guard darted towards Iamos, intent on skewering him with
his pike. In a rush, Iamos sent the entire pile of gathered snow towards the
guard, the force sending him flying into the wall. Thinking quickly, Iamos
shifted the snow to ice, trapping the guard where he was already pinned. He
then turned his attention to the remaining couple of guards, only to find that
some of the former prisoners had darted forward, and were subduing them through
numbers alone, pinning them to the floor, disarming them, and beating them.
Realising with a sudden sort of rush that the way was clear, he began to walk
forward again (though not without aiming a violent and therapeutic kick at the
nearest guard’s body).

“Let’s keep moving.”

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

The rest of their trek through the mansion was surprisingly
uneventful. There was, as ever, the tension of being accosted – though this was
now overlaid with a certain confidence that came from besting a group of troops
already. It was mostly just time-consuming, as Iamos continued to lead the
prisoners through the halls. When the final entrance hallway came into sight –
hefty wooden doors indicative of freedom – a collective sigh of breath seemed
to be uttered. There were, of course, guards, but Iamos didn’t even have to use
alchemy on them, as the group simply swarmed and overwhelmed them. In fact, his
proudest moment came from managing to punch one in the chest as he tried to
swipe at a prisoner with his sword.

Shoving the doors open, Iamos saw a few people lingering on
the mansion’s lawn, most of whom seemed startled at his appearance. Two, however,
began to approach him. Loden and Miyuki.

“Sue me for stating the obvious, but I guess you found her.”
Loden remarked as soon as he was close enough to be heard.

“We found surplus to requirements.” Iamos explained, still
walking – he didn’t want to risk stopping and then not being able to start
again. “Things got a bit chaotic, though. Our best bet is to take the Origin
and fly to the next city-”

Loden made a motion with his hand, before withdrawing the
limb and sighing.

“Iamos. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re in the right
frame of mind to fly us anywhere.”

Was he? Of course he wasn’t. He was as stressed as he could ever
remember being, he was tired, he was uncomfortable, he was wearing
uncomfortable *clothes*, he had Daiyu’s
friend to deal with because they were *apparently*
*stuck together or something-!*

“That’s not fair.” He growled, referencing how he found it
difficult to look people in the eyes normally. Loden appeared to recognise the reference,
because he shrugged.

“Alright then. You don’t have to look me in the eyes. All
you have to do is tell me. Tell me that you’re up for another flight.”

That didn’t help matters. Iamos bit his tongue, but said
nothing, unable to force himself to lie. Loden rolled his eyes, and looked like
he was about to say something – Miyuki beat him to it.

“If you’re finished,” she said, “we should hurry. Best to
not stay here.”

Iamos nodded, before walking on. Behind him, he could hear Loden
yell instructions to the prisoners.

“Alright everyone, I’m sure it’s nice to not be slaves or
whatever, but we need to spit, and you probably should too. I recommend getting
as far away from here as possible. I mean, I guess that’s obvious…”

Everyone slowly faded into white noise as his attention
became solely fixated upon walking back to the Origin. To safety. To the closest
thing he had to a *home*, at this
point.

(If he focused hard enough, he could hear a discussion
happening behind him. One between Loden and Miyuki and Daiyu – one referencing
him and Akane.)

(He deliberately ignored it.)

(That was for another day.)

**15: Interlude**

Whydidyoudothat*whydidyoudothat*WHYDIDYOUDOTHAT-?

Variations of this sentence had been running screaming
through Azura’s psyche ever since she had – well, done *that*. Shouted Iamos’ name. During the ritual. Messed everything up.
She twirled the hammer (she had found it in the engine room) around in her
fingers, just to give herself something to do.

It had made sense to her at the time! They had been talking,
and talking about the ritual, and she had heard that it could be dangerous to
disrupt a magical ritual, and she had seen Iamos’ transmutations backfire.
Earth. Earth transmutations – he had gotten them wrong before, and it had
always led to a huge mess. It had been funny at the time – *really* funny – but she had been hit with a mental image of the same
thing happening to a human person (because the ritual was based around a
person) and it definitely hadn’t been as funny then. She had known that she
couldn’t just jump in and stop the ritual, because that could have gone *very* wrong. Then she had thought about
how to stop it, because that person was Daiyu’s friend, and even *beyond* that, it was… it was a person.
And if they had been bonded, there would have been no way to get them out of
there. So, she had come up with the idea of shouting a name during the process
– they had been naming the master, what about putting out a different name, one
that would be… well, would be better? She had considered herself for a bit,
but?? Honestly? She wasn’t great with responsibility. She knew it, Iamos knew
it, everyone knew it…

Her fingers continued to fidget as she sat there, lost in
her own guilt-stricken thoughts. She had figured that Iamos’ name would be best
because… well, he was the responsible one, and he knew what was happening, and
he was *way* more responsible than her.
It just- it had made sense to her at the time! At the time, yeah, but now?? In
hindsight, even though she knew that there really wasn’t much else she could
have done, it still felt like such a stupid thing for her to have done…!

“Azura.”

She reluctantly looked up. Still feeling ashamed. Wait, hadn’t
she been holding something a moment ago? She saw Loden standing in the doorway,
looking down on her. Oh gosh.

“You probably knew this already, but we’re not going to be
flying anywhere for a bit.” He told her. “We’re just going to meet upstairs,
and, ah… discuss where to go from here. Both in terms of our little group, and,
like, literally. You’re welcome to join.”

She couldn’t meet his eyes. She looked at the ground. Ah, a
hammer. Hadn’t she already picked that up? She picked it up again anyway,
trying to find a way to distract herself – only to suddenly remember that Loden
would have been waiting for some kind of answer, and that she had to give it,
and okay she could do this.

“How is everyone?” She asked, hit with the sudden thought
that she should probably check how everyone else was doing before saying
whether or not she wanted to join the talk. As an afterthought, she tacked on
“And, well, I… I’d like to join, if that’s alright.”

Loden nodded. “Well, Daiyu spent a good half an hour or so
crying all over me and Miyuki.”

Azura winced, remember how upset Daiyu had been in the
dungeon, and nodded. Yeah, that figured. That totally figured. It must have-

“Me and Miyuki are… well, we’re fine.” Continued Loden.
“Probably holding up the best out of everyone so far.”

It figured. Those two were the cool social ones. They’d be
fine.

“Although the other girl – haven’t gotten her name yet,
redhead – she seems to be doing alright so far.” Came the announcement from
Loden. “She only knows so much Cheinise, but if I’m being honest, I think she’s
happier to be out of a cell then she is worried about the fact that she and
Iamos went through the whole… bonding process. Whatever that means. We’re not
quite sure yet.”

Yeah, there it was. The thing. The problem. The source of
all (most?) of Azura’s woes. More important, the thing that was going to be the
source of a lot *more* woes for both
Iamos and that girl. The bonding. The bonding that was basically all her fault.

Hadn’t she been holding something?

“I’m going to… I want to take a walk.” She managed to say,
standing up and making to walk past Loden and out of the ship. For the walk.

“If you’re sure.” Loden sounded uncertain but, to Azura’s
immense relief, he didn’t do anything like try to stop her from leaving the
room. She walked out without looking back. She wasn’t sure she could stand it.
Looking back, but also being on the ship at all. Everything was too tense. Too
awkward. Daiyu was still shaken about her kidnapping, and it was very obvious
whenever she interacted with someone that she half-expected to be dragged off
again. Azura still hadn’t asked her about all the details – part of her was
curious, and the other part of her hope to never hear exactly what had
happened; both for Daiyu’s privacy, and because of her own fear of what she’d
hear.

Loden and The Princess were… were probably doing the best of
everyone, to be fair, but that didn’t mean a whole lot. They had been the ones
to ferry the group back to the ship, and from the sounds of it, they were
putting together the meeting as well. They had also struck her as the most
confident of everyone. Loden smiled a lot. It didn’t always mean anything. But
considering that he was still able to smile, as she had seen him do the
previous night when someone had said something that was funny from a certain
point a view? And that he was also able to walk with his head held high, as if
he wasn’t affected by the weight that was affecting someone else? It was
impressive. She admired him. She envied him. And The Princess? She was… well,
it was sort of incredible how un-nervous she seemed to be. Like, she had
experience with people being calm is what were supposed to be stressful
situations, because that was how *Iamos*
acted a lot of the time. Even when she could tell he was feeling an emotion, he
was still good at keeping it… well, keeping it under wraps. Not like her. she
talked all the time. She apparently couldn’t keep her mouth shut even when it
meant magically bonding her brother to a complete stranger (which was, like,
pretty much his worst nightmare). …What was she thinking about? The Princess,
right, yes, The Princess. The Princess – even though things were so stressful
and crazy and stupid – she was still completely calm about it all. Azura wasn’t
sure she had seen an actual emotion cross her face. She had, of course (of
course!) considered the fact that she was hiding or concealing her emotions.
Like, the way her brother would have done. Was she better at it? Was it that
Azura just didn’t know her as well, meaning that she couldn’t tell when she was
feeling something or not feeling something? Was it that the situation didn’t
affect her as much? If it had been her instead of Iamos, would she have not
been so calm about it? Would Iamos have been able to *stay* calm about it?

And Iamos… and her brother…! He was… not happy with
everything, she knew that much. She had checked in his room (looking all over
him for the Origin, which had been awkward because she hadn’t known which room
his had been and she had walked into Daiyu’s room and scared Daiyu which had
been bad because the *last* thing Daiyu
had needed at that point was to be scared) and just. Seen him sitting on his
bed with his arms wrapped around his legs, curled up like he was an egg. A
chicken’s egg. It was a pose she had seen before from him – when he had been,
like, overwhelmed in the past, he had done the same thing. Azura wasn’t one
hundred percent sure *why* he did it,
but she figured he might have wanted to block the world out when it got too
much. He’d just be quiet and not do anything for hours, until he had calmed
down enough to do things again. But she had checked on him and seen him like
that yesterday morning… and a day – maybe more than a day – had passed and she
still hadn’t seen him since. That was how she knew, she just *knew*, that he’d been badly affected by
it all. And yeah, the interaction and the fact that he had had to lead
definitely wouldn’t have helped, but still-! It was basically her fault. It had
to the be stress of the bonding thing that had gotten to him. And it was all.
Her. Fault.

She stumbled off of the Origin, dropping the ramp and
despondently walking down it. She wasn’t wearing the dress she had worn at the
auction anymore; she had liked it, she had *really*
liked it, but it had technically belong to The Princess, and it hadn’t belonged
to her, and she had run the risk of getting dirt or whatever on it if she had
kept wearing it for any longer than necessary, so she had given it back to the
princess at the first opportunity. The Princess! She still was kind of stunned
that they had bona-fied royalty on the ship with them. Voluntarily, no less!
(Though most of everyone else apparently thought differently.) And she was so *cool* and had dozens of palaces and the
best clothes and she was so smart and so pretty and her eyes! Were different
colours! Was that a princess thing, or was that something unique to her? She
wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure which she’d prefer, either. Either would be pretty
cool, she supposed. What had she been…? Her dress! Yes, yes, she had given it
back.

She still had the screw, though. It wasn’t in her hair any
longer, because she had taken it out to stab someone on the night of the
auction (and she would have taken it out anyway because it would have gotten
uncomfortable to keep her hair pinned up for so long), but she had kept it
because she hadn’t taken it from anyone to begin with and thus had no-one to
give it back to.

Thinking of the screw made her think of the fact that she
had stabbed someone. The fact that she had never done so before was kind of a
given, but she had honestly been shocked by herself. She panicked and acted and
apparently, her instinct was extreme violence… which was worrying. More
worrying was the fact that she had honestly kind of enjoyed it? Yeah it was
super scary, and yeah the fact that she could have badly hurt the man kept her
wary, but the rush of energy and the thrill of a fight were unmistakable. Even
if she hadn’t really experienced them before, she had heard enough about them
from Loden and other fighters about what they were supposed to feel like. What
did that mean? Was she some kind of fighter at her core? There weren’t girl
fighters, were there? She supposed there were technically, there had to be. But
she hadn’t seen any. Man, if her instincts were fighting instincts, that was
weird. *She* was weird. It was a kinda
depressing thought.

The fact that Azura was busy thinking about all of this meant
that she wasn’t paying a super large amount of attention to where she was
going, which mean that she ended up colliding with something. Correction –
someone. She collided with some*one*. A
tall man with blonde hair. She stumbled backwards. She would have apologised –
she really would have! – but *whoa*.
His coat was cool. There were patterns of flames on the rim and around the
sleeves. The rest of it was dark but those bits were red and orange and look
like actual fire and *wow* she had to
get one of those, it looked amazing.

“Are you alright?” She heard someone say and OH RIGHT she
had just walked into a person. Right. Right. Whoops. She should probably say
something. Her brain was still in “admire coat mode” and made screaming noises
at her when the tried to say something else, so she settled for a wobbly smile
and nodding as she furiously worked to co-ordinate her brain and her mouth.
Eventually, she managed to say:

“Y-yeah! I’m alright.”

The man (for it was a man she had run into, as it turned
out) was now eying her curiously. She began to sweat bullets. What had she
done? Had she said something? Had she missed something?

“You’re… not from around here, are you?” He eventually
asked.

An odd chill settled in Azura’s gut.

She’d heard *that*
one before. As the only person in the village she had grown up in to have dark
skin (as she did) (well, except for Rainer, but he was a respected adult so it
almost didn’t count), she was used to being very obviously different from
everyone else. Not that it had caused her a surplus or problems or anything,
but that underlying knowledge that she was in some fundamental way different
from most of everyone around her had always made her uncomfortable. Even Iamos!
They were brother and sister, but he didn’t look like her. It was weird. Just
another thing about her that was weird.

And of course, here in this town there weren’t any other
people with dark skin either, so it was obvious that she wasn’t… from there.

She didn’t like being obvious.

“…No.” She admitted, still not really happy about it. About
how easily identifiable as a non-resident she was. “I’m not.”

The man ruffled her hair. “It’s no worry.” He told her. “I’m
just looking for some out-of-towners, is all.”

“You are?” Azura asked, curious.

He nodded. “Yeah.” He confirmed. “There’s some people who
came here on… I don’t know how to describe it. A ship that flies, as strange as
that may sound.”

Azura’s first thought was to blurt out “that was us!” and
she very nearly did, but caught herself at the last physical possible moment. Something…
wasn’t right about the man. If he was following them (and he basically probably
was), why *would* he be? He didn’t look
like someone they had ever met before.

“A ship that flies…?” She repeated, cupping her chin with
her hand as she had seen Iamos do when he was thinking, and pretending to
seriously consider it. “That *does*
sound strange.”

“Doesn’t it?” The man sounded almost happy. “Well, believe
it or not, it’s real, and I just so happen to be looking for it.”

“That’s strange!” Azura repeated dumbly, having the idea to
walk back to the Origin and tell the others that someone was looking for them
and let them decide what to do about it, because *she* hadn’t been told anything about it. Oh, gosh, what if they
didn’t trust her anymore and hadn’t told her about it? Was this the result of
her being stupid?? Still thinking about all that, she turned around and began
to walk off – only to jump about a *foot*
in the air as the man reached out and seized the sleeve of the cloak she was
wearing.

She let out an embarrassing little squeak of fear as well
(seriously???) but the plus side of the embarrassment was that the man let her
go.

“Sorry.” He said, sounding like he both *did* and *didn’t* mean it.
“I just wanted to ask you if you had seen them, is all.”

“It’s fine.” She managed to say, even as her heard was
thudding bajillions of times in her chest. “It’s- it’s fine. But I really
haven’t seen them. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He said. “Sorry for scaring you.”

It was obvious she had been scared? Wait, no, of course it
would have been obvious. She was stupid. She waited until the man had walked on
past her and disappeared around the corner before turning on her heel and *bolting* back to the origin because that
had been legitimately terrifying and even if they hadn’t said anything to her
directly she may have heard something and… actually she didn’t have any other
coherent reasons. BUT she was very intuned with her own instincts, or so she
liked to think, and her instincts were yelling “BAD” at her.

“Back your instincts, Wilder.” She muttered to herself as
she ran. It was her motto. (One of her mottos.)

Arriving back at the ship, she found the door closed in a
very foreboding manner, and rapped on it several times in a rhythm that popped
out of her head just that moment. When the door eventually opened, she
practically leapt into the face of a startled Daiyu (but didn’t ACTUALLY do
that because Daiyu was too tall).

“Do we have, like, a friend or something is out there?” She
said – and that was all she said for half a moment before remembering that she
may have to be more specific. “There’s a guy.” She elaborated. “Out there. I
think he’s looking for our ship? He said he was looking for people who came in
on a flying ship and if that isn’t us, I don’t know who it could be.”

“I- I don’t either.” Daiyu stammered. “I mean, I- well, I
don’t… I don’t remember anyone else. I don’t- who else knows that we’re on a
ship that flies?”

“I know, right?” Azura was honestly mostly just happy that
someone else didn’t know what was happening. Even though it was technically a
bad thing, the fact that she wasn’t the odd one out on this was really quite
nice.

Their voices must have been loud, because a moment later,
Iamos stuck his head out of the nearby room (the engine room! What was he doing
in there?) and gave a start when he saw them.

“Azura?” He asked. “What are you-”

“Someone’s looking for us.” Said Azura. “Outside, there was
a man who said he was looking for a flying ship and I don’t know who else it
could be.”

Iamos’ eyes lit up for the briefest of moments – before once
again being obscured by the glower that had been practically his default
expression for the last couple of days – and Azura could only think that her
brother missed Rainer more than he would care to admit.

“What did he look like?” He asked. Azura shrugged. Fair
question.

“Blonde hair.” She said. “And he was wearing this coat with,
like, flame patterns on it.” She continued to speak, even as Iamos repeated
“flame patterns” in a high-pitched tone of voice. “It was, like, mostly dark
but then the flames were actually flame-coloured. It was super neat. Is that a
fashion around here?”

“Azura.” Iamos’ voice quivered. She stopped. “Are you… are you
sure about that?”

Azura turned to him. “Well, yeah.”

He now just looked… scared. Like, really scared. “If that’s
who I think it is… then we need to go.”

“What?” Azura and Daiyu both said.

“Go, are you sure?” Azura pressed him, now suddenly burning
with curiosity. Who was this guy supposed to be, then? Why was he so dangerous?
Had they met him before? Azura, certainly, couldn’t remember meeting him
before. She turned to Daiyu to ask if she had any idea who he was talking
about, but Daiyu’s expression was such a jumble of negative emotions she lost
her nerve. Turning back to Iamos, she saw that he was nodding vigorously.

“Daiyu, you’re with me.” He said, before marching down the
hallway. He called out as he walked away: “Azura! Tell the others to prepare for
lift-off!”

Lift-off? Oh, boy. Azura could only nod, still baffled,
before running down the halls to find the others. There they went again.

\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*

The touchdown – several hours later – was a slightly bumpy
one, as a still-tired Iamos almost goofed everything up. Only a last-minute
intervention from Daiyu prevented the rods that the ship perched on when landed
from being snapped off, and Azura had nearly been killed when she had been
thrown around in the engine room (which was full of spiky and knobbly metal
bits!) as it was all going down. To be completely honest, she had totally
intended to give her idiot brother a piece of her mind, but one look at his
exhausted and downtrodden expression had made her forget what she was doing
there (and once she had remembered, she hadn’t had the heart to go through with
the tongue-lashing she had had planned).

Sighing, she continued to stare at the dusty mechanics of
the ship. She had continued to explore not only all of the nooks and crannies,
but all of the general bits that seemed to make the thing, well actually work.
Was it some kind of magic? She was still sort of in the dark on that one, but
there were certainly parts of it that just looked like… more complex versions
of things that were un-magical and that generally anyone could make.

It was still complicated, yes, but during the flight, she
had observed all of the machines and how they worked, and she was beginning to
get an idea as to how they worked. She had also been working on figuring out
how the tools scattered throughout the ship worked – for instance, she could
use a pointy tool with a thin edge to twist and move the screws that held bits
of metal together, and had used it more than once to stop a screw from falling
out. It was still a very work-in-progress process, but she was doing just that.
Working on it.

Her attention was drawn by Daiyu, who was walking down the
corridor on the way back to the front end of the ship, where the driving took
place (and where Iamos had fallen asleep after landing the ship). She would
have paid a whole load attention, except for two things. Number one, Iamos was
still asleep in the front-end of the ship, which meant that she was going to
see him for… for some reason. Number two – and this was what kind of cinched it
for her – Daiyu looked… different. Determined. She was walking fast, yes, but
she was also walking tall when she had earlier been so hunched over that Azura
had almost forgotten just how *tall*
she was. (And, really… wow.) She looked determined, as well. Her fists were
clenched, and her eyes were staring straight ahead.

Curiosity thus established, Azura waited in her room (where
she had previously been) for a few more moments, and then nyoomed down the
corridor as fast as she could while being quiet enough that Daiyu wouldn’t hear
her. There were a couple of times when Azura thought she may have blown it, but
Daiyu appeared to be in her own little world, and at no point noticed that she
was being tailed. After what was probably only a minute or two (even though it
felt like a lot longer), Daiyu arrived in front of the pilot room, walking
inside and closing the door. Before she did, Azura was able to catch a glimpse
of Iamos – he was sitting up in the pilot’s seat, staring at Daiyu with a dazed
look on his face.

The door shut. Azura crept closer, interested to hear what
may have been going on. A million possibilities flew through her head – until
she heard Daiyu speak.

“Iamos.” Daiyu said the words sternly, almost as though she
was giving an order. It was really different to the way she had spoken in the
past. “I want you…” – ah! Hesitation! Much more Daiyu’s style. But what was she
trying to say?

“…I want you to teach me alchemy.”

…oh.

*Oh.*