Skyborn

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Skyborn Page 37

by David Dalglish


  “Maybe it was all Galen’s fault,” Brad said, stepping into Kael’s room fully dressed and tugging at the collar of his shirt. “They did something so bad God decided to punish them for good.”

  Kael shifted his belt so its buckle was perfectly straight, then tugged on the edges of his jacket so it wasn’t bunched around his neck.

  “Do you really believe that?” Kael asked.

  Brad hesitated, then shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter what I believe, does it?”

  Kael thought of the cold stares of the theotechs as they asked their questions after the island’s collapse.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Kael said. “There’s only one opinion that matters, and we’re about to hear it. Let’s go.”

  Together they dashed out of the apartment to the street. Once there they followed a steady stream of students from all four years hurrying south to the intersection, where a large crowd gathered.

  “Suit up!” Instructor Kime shouted from their center. “Everyone to the gear sheds and retrieve your weapons and wings.”

  The crowd shifted east, and Kael and Brad followed. Though all the preparations were as if for a battle, the entire atmosphere was wrong.

  “Feels like we’re going to a funeral,” Brad muttered, glancing at the dour, nervous faces of their classmates. Kael found it hard to disagree. No excitement or anticipation, just dread.

  Once at the gear sheds they waited in line until it was their turn to go inside and grab their set. As Kael strapped on the silver wings, he felt his nervousness start to grow. Why all the pomp and assembly? It was just a messenger from Center. They received similar messengers daily, yet to greet this one they must be suited up and carrying their swords? Something more was going on, and it seemed everyone knew it. This didn’t feel like they were preparing to greet an ambassador. This felt like they were preparing for war.

  As Kael waited outside the gear sheds, the orders they heard did little to dispel that feeling.

  “All combat-ready Seraphim join your squads by the academy entrance,” Headmaster Simmons shouted from the center of the street. He then pointed to where several of the instructors hovered off the ground so they might be visible. “First year, gather up with Instructor Kime. Second year, Instructor Dohn. Third year, with me, and fourth year, Instructor Ellis. Line up, follow orders, and keep your mouths shut.”

  Kael and Brad exchanged a look.

  “Good luck,” Brad whispered, slapping him on the chest.

  “You, too.”

  Deciding that flying in such a crowd would be reckless, Kael pushed his way through to the west until he was free, and then he powered up his wings just enough to float him along until he joined the eighty Seraphim already waiting at the entrance. Kael thought he was the last to arrive, but that turned out to be his sister, who landed beside him at the gathering place for Phoenix Squad.

  “Anyone know what’s really going on?” Bree asked the other five.

  “No idea,” Kael said, and he looked to the others.

  “If it were our place to know, we’d already know,” Olivia said. She was busy tying her shoulder-length dark hair behind her head with a piece of string, which made the sharpness of her jaw and cheekbones all the more prominent. “Leave speculation and worrying to those with idle time and loose tongues. The truth will make itself known to us soon enough.”

  Not exactly the answer Kael was looking for, but he dared not argue with his squad’s leader. Nodding his head, he bit his tongue and consoled himself with knowing that Olivia was right. He would know soon enough.

  Argus Summers flew over to join them, and Kael was quick to dip his head in respect. The commander stood in the center of the large gathering, and he spun until certain that all paid attention.

  “I’ll be flying to the holy mansion to escort the royal family,” he said. “The rest of you, head to the west docks and take up flanking positions on either side of the road. Leave no gaps between you. I want a solid line. The rest of the academy students will line up beside you, but let the instructors and the headmaster worry about them.”

  The commander paused, and it was that hesitation, that worry in the man’s cool blue eyes, that finally made Kael afraid.

  “And most of all,” he said, “I want you all to remain calm no matter what you might hear. Is that understood?”

  Murmurs of acknowledgment filtered in from among the Seraphim.

  “Good,” Argus said. “The other groups are ready, and they’ll be following your lead. Fly on.”

  The humming of their wings increased in volume as Argus flew into the air. Olivia rose just above their heads, exchanging quick signals with the other squad leaders. Order decided, the squads took off, one after the other, with Phoenix Squad taking up the rear. Though Bree wasn’t officially part of the squad, she flew just to Olivia’s left, with Kael taking up the right. Above the streets they flew, and Kael gazed below with a strange sense of regret. It wasn’t long ago he walked those streets. It wasn’t long ago that, come a moment like this, he’d have peered up at the Seraphim flying overhead and wished he was among them. Now he wished he could walk those streets again, oblivious to the dangers, and to the theotechs’ ever-watchful eyes.

  Their path took them over Lowville, and Kael felt a momentary jolt of excitement when he saw the tiny figure of Aunt Bethy standing on the doorstep to their home, hand to her face to block the sun as she looked up at them. Kael waved to her, and when she waved back, a stupid smile bloomed across his face.

  Guess it’s not all bad, he thought, imagining his aunt’s pride.

  Their path angled lower as they approached the docks. All normal traffic had been halted, and blocking off large parts of the street were Weshern’s soldiers dressed in full battle attire. The Seraphim landed in the empty streets, taking up stances on opposite sides starting just beyond the wood of the docks. Kael stood beside Bree, and he wished he could joke with her, maybe poke fun at all the seriousness of the day. But Argus had made it clear he wanted them to remain silent, and so he did. The rest of the Seraphim landed, forming a corridor of gleaming silver wings. Several minutes later, Argus arrived, flying low while Isaac and Avila Willer rode on horses behind him, accompanied by Theotech Vyros on foot.

  When they reached the docks, the rulers of Weshern dismounted, nearby soldiers rushing over to lead the horses away. The couple were dressed in their finest, he in a blue and black suit, she in a deep blue dress, each adorned with silver gloves, necklaces, and crowns. Compared to when Kael had met them during the solstice celebration, they looked less approachable, more regal. They stood arm in arm before the docks, patiently waiting. Argus stood a step back, wrists crossed behind his back. Like a lurking spider, behind them both waited Vyros.

  Time crawled along, and Kael had to shift his weight from leg to leg to prevent them from falling asleep. He kept sneaking glances north, hoping to spot the messenger from Center, but it wasn’t the messenger who arrived first. In a sudden rush came the angelic knights. More than a dozen men and women, clad in gold and white tunics, raced in from the clouds in loose formation toward the docks.

  “At attention,” Olivia ordered, echoing the other squad leaders. Kael stood up straight, and he crossed his arms behind his back, hands holding his wrists. His breath caught in his throat as the knights landed. They stayed together, crowding in along the docks while showing no real hurry. Kael watched them from the corner of his eye, all the more certain something terrible was happening. Rarely was a messenger ever escorted, let alone by an entire squadron of angelic knights. Then he saw four ferrymen carrying a platform, its sides lined with silver, its chains made of bronze, and Kael finally realized what was happening.

  This wasn’t just a messenger. The Speaker for the Angels was coming to their island to announce his decree.

  Don’t panic, Kael told himself as the ferrymen lowered the platform to the docks. He’s probably visiting all four islands to tell the people what happ
ened.

  Galen’s fall was an unmatched catastrophe, so of course the Speaker would personally deliver whatever information his theotechs had discovered. Clutching his wrists tighter to prevent himself from fidgeting, Kael watched and waited as Marius Prakt stepped out from the platform.

  He was a younger man, which surprised Kael for some reason. He’d expected a tired, wrinkled old politician who looked worn down by the weight of his own jewelry. But Marius… Marius looked healthy, vibrant, his skin softly tanned, his short brown hair carefully trimmed. Like the theotechs, he wore red robes, only instead of gold medals and rings, he bore no decoration whatsoever. The most ornate thing on his body was a single black sash tied at his waist. With a bounce in his step, he approached the Willers. Though his face was pleasant, Kael noticed he never smiled, and when he shook hands with the Archon, his eyes seemed to harden, his lips twisting into the faintest resemblance of a frown.

  The Speaker said something to Isaac, and though it was far too soft to hear, Kael could easily read the two words on his lips: I’m sorry.

  I’m sorry. What does that mean?

  Kael had little time to dwell on it, for the Speaker stepped between them, several of his angelic knights accompanying him, one brushing aside Avila as if she were a commoner. Marius greeted Vyros next, vigorously shaking the hand of the theotech and smiling as if he were a trusted companion. Next came a brief exchange of pleasantries with Argus Summers. Then he was moving, with the Willers quickly following, angelic knights flanking them on either side. Manacles swung from the belts of the knights, and the sight unnerved Kael to no end.

  If Marius had a destination, he didn’t let it be apparent, for he addressed other members of the Seraphim, speaking to each one as if they were old friends. Kael wondered what supernatural power guided the man. Simply being in the Speaker’s presence made people look more alive. It was as if Marius were a bolt of lightning wherever he went, always moving, a bundle of energy he gave off to every man and woman he addressed.

  And then he stopped right in front of Bree.

  “Phoenix of Weshern,” he said, reaching out his hand. Bree gave him hers, and he kissed the tops of her fingers. The Speaker smiled, his teeth like pearls, his eyes like sapphires.

  “Even my own knights are jealous of your… reputation,” he said. “I confess, I am tempted to oversee your next battle so I might witness your skill firsthand.”

  “Forgive me, Speaker, but I pray there is no next battle for you to witness,” Bree said. “Only peace.”

  Beside her, Olivia tensed as if Bree had openly slapped the man, but Marius smiled all the wider.

  “A fine prayer,” he said. “A selfless prayer. May God hear and answer you, Miss Skyborn.”

  Just like that, he was moving on. Kael released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The Speaker continued down past twenty more Seraphim, all eyes following him. Though it seemed he stopped nowhere in particular, Marius pulled himself up to his full height. A change overcame him. He wasn’t jovial anymore. He wasn’t a bundle of energy. Suddenly he was a towering presence, his voice deep, his arms out wide as he commanded the people’s attention, and willingly they gave it.

  “Three days ago, our people suffered a terrible tragedy,” he shouted, and it seemed his voice might carry for miles. “Three days ago, we witnessed the fall of an island God himself made fly. There is nothing to say that adequately conveys the horror of that moment. There is nothing I may do that will heal the wounds such loss has given us all. But even though we grieve, we must act. The truth must be known, the innocents protected, the guilty… punished.”

  Kael felt his blood chill. A distant humming reached his ears, and he tore his eyes away from the Speaker to look to the northern skies above the docks. Mouth open, he felt his knees go weak.

  “Three days ago, the Seraphim of Weshern acted with reckless irresponsibility,” the Speaker continued. “Your forces joined a combat without due process, nor with permission of our theotechs. The angels tell me that these actions were a direct cause of Galen’s eventual collapse. The weight of these sins rests on Weshern’s shoulders.”

  No amount of orders could have kept the listening Seraphim silent, nor the expressions of shock from the gathered soldiers. The noise of the crowd only grew as others saw what Kael saw: hundreds of angelic knights flying from Center, accompanying a seemingly endless number of platforms carried by ferrymen.

  “I would reveal more,” the Speaker continued, showing no care to the sudden explosion of noise. “But for the safety of mankind itself, I must not. It is possible the collapse may be repeated here, and that is a possibility I must prevent at all costs. Because of this, I issue my decree: until the risk has been averted, Isaac and Avila Willer are to be imprisoned, and the people of Weshern ruled under Center’s direct control.”

  The knights flanking the Archon and his wife removed the manacles swinging from their belts, quickly clamping them down onto the wrists of the shocked couple.

  “No!”

  Clara rushed out from farther down the line, dashing toward her parents. Kael’s heart froze, panic pounding through his veins as the nearby knights drew their blades. Light shimmered across Argus’s wings as he moved to intercept, grabbing her in his arms and holding her still.

  “You can’t do this!” Clara screamed as she struggled to free herself. “This isn’t right, we didn’t do anything! Let me go, damn it, let me go!”

  Kael moved to join her, to do something, but Bree reached out and grabbed his arm.

  “Not now,” she said, leaning in close and keeping her voice low. “All you’ll do is throw your life away.”

  Marius watched Clara’s struggle with a mask of sympathy Kael didn’t buy for a second.

  “Calm yourself, child,” the Speaker said. “Further investigations are necessary, and the lives of your parents may yet be spared. I tell you, I tell all of you, that we do this for your protection. My theotechs will take residence here, as will many of Center’s soldiers, but it is only to prevent another catastrophe like that which befell Galen. It is the will of God that none may fall, and though it is a heavy burden, I take it upon myself to ensure your safety.”

  Argus whispered something into Clara’s ear, and she slowly went limp. Still crying, he led her away, through the line of Weshern Seraphim and beyond Kael’s sight. Fire burning in his breast, Kael turned to see angelic knights landing upon the docks, one after another in a constant flow. Behind them, the first of many platforms bumped against the docks. From it rushed two dozen soldiers bearing the crest of Center on their shields. They marched with their long spears held high, their heavy boots thudding atop the wood. More and more platforms docked, thousands of soldiers flooding into Weshern, so many it would take hours for them all to land. Accompanying them were the damn theotechs in their red robes. The knights led the way, and Kael stood, locked still, stunned and unsure what to do.

  His knights will fly like legion, his soldiers unending. They will come to conquer, no longer willing to play the game.

  Marrik had sworn the time approached, and now here it was, before Kael’s very eyes. Before they’d dropped Thane Ackels down the well, he’d raved about Center’s armies coming on a bloodred sky. Shivers running through him, Kael watched the continual wave of soldiers. The two disciples had been wrong. There was no war. No great battle. Here they stood, peaceful, obedient, the beaten dogs Thane had accused them of being, as the army of Center occupied their home. Teeth clenched, he almost wished they had fought back. Almost. To rebel now would be a death sentence, but if the other islands joined in, if they sensed their own sovereignty challenged under the guise of protection…

  As the knights marched on by, Kael spotted one he recognized. He stared at Nickolas Flynn, hoping the man might notice him. As luck would have it, he did, Nickolas turning his head slightly and making eye contact with Kael as he walked past. Kael prayed for something, anything, a sign from the man that things weren’t as dire as they seemed.
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  In answer, Nickolas shook his head slightly and turned away.

  Surrounded by golden wings and armor, Marius marched through the streets. Behind them, spines stiff and their hands and feet thankfully unbound, followed the former rulers of Weshern. It didn’t seem fair. It didn’t seem right. Argus had made the decision to send their Seraphim in early, not the Willers. Why should they be arrested, and not him?

  A hand touched his. Kael looked to his left, to where Bree remained in perfect stance except for where she’d slipped her right hand underneath their wings so she might clutch his fingers. It was a breach of protocol, but right then, it didn’t seem to matter. Bree was just as frightened as he was, and that realization made Kael pretend to be brave. To be strong.

  “We’ll fight them,” he whispered in her ear. “This isn’t over.”

  “I know,” she whispered back. “But who will fight with us?”

  There was no denying the obvious truth. Center had come to claim Weshern, and only one man had cried warning from the very beginning. The one man whose disciples had urged the people to resist before the conquering armies came. The name was treason, but Kael spoke it anyway.

  “Johan.”

  The platforms dispersed wave after wave of soldiers, the ferrymen filling the sky, the sound of boots almost deafening. Together, hand in hand, the twins watched the army of Center march into their home, banners held high, theotechs guiding the way.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  Ever since the third grade I’ve wanted to tell a story about a civilization in the sky. Something about the imagery has always fascinated me, and it started with the floating land of Zeal from an old Super Nintendo RPG called Chrono Trigger (which, coincidentally, is still my favorite game of all time). Now I doubt Chrono Trigger was the first (and it certainly wasn’t the last) to do the floating islands bit. James Cameron’s Avatar comes to mind, as does the wonderful game Bioshock Infinite. Heck, I even have a floating city in one of my other series, but it was very much a background thing, and it whet my appetite for a whole world focusing on just that.

 

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