A Prisoner's View of the Sky

My awe was cut short as the guards dragged me along, leading me up a short flight of stairs to a small, exposed platform. From that vantage point, I could see everything. As a cool breeze brushed against my cheeks, the true nature of this realm unfurled before me. This entire region—the city, the nation itself—was an archipelago of floating islands. The kingdom that had summoned me, the one I had arrived in so unceremoniously, was a city in the sky.

Goosebumps prickled my arms, a rare sensation for me. The breathtaking vista held me captive.

The dungeon island was one of the highest in the archipelago, soaring perhaps a full kilometer above the largest landmass, which itself floated higher than the distant mountain peaks on the world’s surface below. It was a strategic choice, I mused, to keep prisoners isolated yet visible. From here, my view was nearly unobstructed. The entire kingdom was a collection of floating islands, varying in size and altitude. The main island, home to the capital, was a sprawling oval nearly twice the size of Manhattan. On its far edge, I could distinguish a massive complex of buildings that could only be the royal palace. It was a great distance away. Had the young princess truly made that journey every day just to see me?

Beyond the palace, the city was dense with tall structures, most between three and five stories, with some ambitious towers reaching ten or more. High above the city, standing out against the sky, were countless kite-like objects. They reminded me of advertising kites from Terra, but their exquisite ornamentation suggested a different purpose. They were likely civic decorations, a perfect aesthetic complement to the floating island motif.

I saw not only a metropolis but also a living landscape. Hills and small mountains, verdant forests, and fields of a golden hue that evoked images of rice paddies graced not just the main island, but also the smaller ones that orbited it.

My eyes followed the glint of water to the outskirts of the city, where waterfalls cascaded from a smaller, higher island into a vast lake on the main one. The source of this water was a marvel in itself: a river originating on an island so high above that it was lost to my sight. A chain of waterfalls, some short and others impossibly long, connected a succession of islands at staggered elevations, creating a staircase of flowing water that reached into the heavens.

At this altitude, the wind could be fierce. It whipped against the falls, sometimes forcing the spray to billow upwards instead of down, creating spectacular, multi-layered circular rainbows in the process. I stared, utterly enthralled by the sublime beauty of the scene.

When I finally managed to tear my gaze away, I found the envoy observing me, a smug satisfaction etched onto his face. His pride in his beautiful, floating nation was palpable. This must have been why the little princess insisted I see it for myself. She was right; words were wholly inadequate to capture such a spectacle. Even if they saw it with their own eyes, few from Terra would ever believe it was real.

I turned from his arrogant expression, intending to take in my immediate surroundings, but a glance back at the horizon made me freeze once more.

"Gods above!"

The words escaped me, but how could they not? Looming on the horizon was a colossal, spherical object. A planet. I was standing on one world, and there was another, impossibly close. The brownish-green planet, streaked with hints of blue, occupied nearly half the sky behind me, its lower portion obscured by the curve of this world’s horizon.

The realm I’d been brought to wasn't just a floating metropolis; it was part of a binary planet system, two worlds likely locked in a gravitational dance. What an incredible new world. I had been prepared for magic, but this... this defied all expectation.

"Astonished by the splendid beauty of our great country, eh?" the diplomat remarked, his grin widening. It seemed even in this world, a floating city was an uncommon sight.

I took one last, sweeping look around, at the deep blue sky above and the sea of clouds below, before answering. "Yes. Your nation is... captivating. I'm utterly captivated."

I gestured broadly as I spoke. My sincere appreciation seemed to surprise the envoy; perhaps he hadn't expected me to validate his boast. But even if I wanted to, I couldn't deny it. The scenery was simply too magnificent.

The diplomat chuckled softly. "Alright, that's enough sightseeing. Let us proceed."

I followed him to our next destination. Along the way, we passed more structures that looked like entrances to other dungeons. That explained why my cell had been empty; I was being held in a special section, while common criminals were likely detained elsewhere. I had, after all, assaulted their King.

We then passed a heavily guarded area that must have been their main garrison. After a brief review of some documents, we were allowed to exit the building. The entire structure was fashioned from stone, reminiscent of ancient Greek architecture but reinforced with iron. How did they build such things up here? I wondered. Was there some convenient construction magic involved? I filed the question away for later.

We crossed a meadow, following a short, stone-paved path toward a smaller building on the island's edge. It was little more than a post with pillars and a roof, possessing neither walls nor doors.

Inside, I understood its purpose. It was a station for a conveyance much like a ski lift, but for a far larger vehicle. A box-like room was suspended from the structure, connected by a thick cable to a building on the main island far below. It was a cable car, roughly four by eight meters, with the rounded edges, windows, and doors of a city tram. Inside, the floor was lined with hardwood planks, though the frame was clearly metal. Seats lined the periphery, leaving the center open, presumably for both passengers and cargo.

We stepped into the car. One of the envoy’s guards touched a panel on the front wall marked with some form of script.

With a hum so subtle I almost missed it, the vehicle began to move. Magic, I presumed.

The car traveled at the speed of a leisurely bicycle ride, turning the journey into a scenic cruise as a pleasant breeze filtered through small ventilation slots. I gazed out the clear windows. From this angle, I could see that it wasn't just the rooftops of the city that were colorful; many of the buildings had vibrantly painted walls. It reminded me of certain tourist cities on Terra, though here, even the roofs were painted in a riot of colors, a departure from the traditional red tiles of home.

The scene was dazzling. Sunlight glinted off countless shiny roof tiles, lending the entire city a vibrant, energetic atmosphere.

I also observed that, unlike the prison, most buildings were not constructed from monolithic stone slabs. Some were made of a smooth, concrete-like material, while others featured strong timber beams and colored brick walls, like rustic country homes. It seemed they had a form of cement, though I only saw it used for large manors and important-looking structures. Concrete was likely scarce or expensive. I made a mental note to learn what kind of paint they used as well.

Near our destination station stood a large, imposing complex. In an open field beside it, dozens of uniformed individuals were training. Their attire and armaments marked it as a military base. With its sky-blue, concrete-like walls, it looked less like a fortress and more like a sprawling university campus. The building's entire facade was adorned with exquisite artistic carvings, and though it was a modest three stories high, it covered a vast area.

Several rectangular buildings formed a rough circle, much like the FSA's Hexagon. The difference was the epic-looking tower that stood resolutely in the center. Atop the tower was a statue of a man brandishing a sword and shield. The sword was held point-down, like a cane, while the shield was held firmly before the statue's chest. The figure radiated pride and dignity—a truly impressive monument in both design and placement.

Noticing my stare, the envoy began to explain, unprompted.

"That statue is the very symbol of our military! The shield, held firm, and the sword, held at rest, represent our non-aggressive doctrine. But do not mistake our pacifism for weakness. That sword signifies our strength and warns that we are not to be trifled with. Our military's purpose is defense and protection. This facility is our nation's central base, where countless skilled personnel are trained to ensure the safety and tranquility of the citizens of our magnificent Kingdom of Aeridor Valeria!"

It was quite a speech. It did, however, finally give me the kingdom's name. Aeridor Valeria. It had a distinctly fantastical ring to it.

"We have thousands of troops! Elite knights, mages, and riders are all gathered here, ready to be deployed at a moment's notice."

Knight and mage sounded suitably elite, but what was a rider? Did they ride horses into battle? Here? This had to be more than just a fantasy kingdom.

As if on cue, a dark shape shot past our cable car, its passage buffeting us with a gust of wind. What was that?

I stood and turned, trying to track its path. There it was: a massive, winged lizard, its scales a brilliant azure, gliding through the open air. A moment later, I spotted the rider on its back.

"Perfect timing," the envoy said with a proud smirk. "Behold. Our kingdom prides itself on having the finest Wyrm Riders."

I see. He meant dragon riders. Or, well, Wyrm riders. I wasn't about to quibble over semantics. Still, it was the first time I had laid eyes on a true fantasy beast.

We reached the main island shortly after. Disembarking from the cable car, we made our way toward the military facility. As we passed the open training field, we inevitably drew the attention of the soldiers.

From a distance, I could see them whispering amongst themselves, their gazes fixed on me. Most wore expressions of contempt or disdain. It was to be expected. I had, after all, publicly attacked their King shortly after he had granted me an audience.

"You ungrateful savage! I hope they execute you soon!"

There it was. Exactly the reception I anticipated. The atmosphere had been tense since our arrival.

The shout came from a soldier who looked like he was still in his teens. A hothead. Not a good quality, kid. You need to learn who you can and cannot provoke. Muscles don't stop a bullet.

"Stop it, Azgoth!" hissed one of the young men beside him, trying to restrain him. So, his name was Azgoth. Time for a small lesson in attitude adjustment. It was a good thing I was no longer a psychotic killer, or I might have put his life in genuine peril.

I halted my stride and turned slowly to face him.

"Azgoth," I said, my voice low and even. I fixed him with a predatory stare, as if contemplating his demise. The irascible young man flinched at the sound of his name. Every eye in the vicinity was now on us.

A menacing smile, the kind that could silence a crying infant, spread across my face. "Be ready, kid," I added, my tone chillingly calm.

I pointed my index finger at him. "After I'm done with the King, you're next." The words were cool, harsh, and carried a clear threat.

It worked beautifully. The boy and his companion recoiled instantly, and he scuttled away with a look of mingled terror and rage. Hot-tempered kids were always susceptible to this trick. I recalled trying something similar once before. I'd been at Papa Ren's Pizzeria, borrowing a first-person shooter from my coworker Timmy. I was losing every single match, getting utterly owned, when some kid started screaming obscenities at me over the open voice chat. I taught him the same lesson I'd just taught Azgoth. After hacking the game server and pulling the IP addresses of every player, I began reading out their home addresses in a spooky, low voice over the same chat. I finished by saying I'd be paying the screaming kid a visit very soon. Everyone disconnected immediately. It was the first and last time I ever played an FPS. I much prefer the real thing, after all. It's more... organic.