Chapter 8: Calm Before the Storm

Wheels squeaked on the dirt pathway as the wagon rattled over every pebble. Boxes, chests, and pots shifted left and right, smacking the sideboards in a rhythm. The back of the wagon held well enough until the driver rushed over steep hills. The furred behemoth drawing the cart let out a resounding roar and beat the dirt with its hooves.

Alex sat against the sideboard, her arms crossed and head held tall. Liz sat across from her, not in her usual work attire. Gone was the black servant's robe, replaced with a buttoned white shirt and a knee-length skirt. Liz reached up, adjusting the cuffs. She was uncomfortable. It was her idea to come, and she had insisted. Part of her hadn’t expected Alex to agree so readily.

Earlier in the day, Alex had approached Ezia while Liz tended to Nico. Alex wanted to reconvene with her fellow Pathfinders in the Lower Ring. She wanted to discuss the findings the night before with the skyskimmer, the proof of the lost one, and the strange figure made of blue flame. What happened that night was between the three of them. No one else was supposed to know. And the way Alex explained it, it felt more like a fairytale than reality. However, given what happened last night, there must be some truth to her words. There was an entire world outside of Serya. An entire world she never knew. Alex, being a Pathfinder, had seen and done more than her despite only being a year or two older. Honestly, the idea that she was right next to her made her feel small. Alex and Ezia brought Nico home safely, while she sat and did nothing. Nothing but wait for his return.

“So, I have a question, Liz,” Alex said, her gaze wandering past Liz.

“What is it, Lady Alex?”

“Liz,” Alex uttered with indignance.

“Sorry. Um, yes, Alex?” They weren’t in the manor. She was off the job. The need for pleasantries ended once they left the manor.

“Why is it called the Upper and Lower Ring?” Alex said. “I mean, I can guess, but after seeing the difference between the two — it seems a bit more complicated than I thought.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, Ezia isn’t a snooty princess, for one.” Alex smiled. “And the rest of the siblings seem nice. Didn’t really get a chance to really speak with them at length.”

“Ah, the young uns’ are great!” the driver, Baqus, interjected. “They’re lively! Can’t turn your back on them for a second or they’ll make you regret it.”

The older man lashed the reins as the huttie bellowed.

Liz eyed Baqus' finger. It wasn’t swollen and there was no bandage. It had completely healed overnight. She opened her mouth to ask, but she shook her head. She could ask him later.

“So, that’s your reasoning?” Liz smiled.

“Not entirely, it’s just…” Alex rolled her hand in the air, fighting for the right word to say. “I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words.”

“I’m shocked.”

“What?”

“That you’re finding trouble with words. You always seem to have something to say.”

“You’re starting to sound like a friend of mine.” Alex frowned. “Shut up.”

“Apologies, Lady Alex.”

“That one was on purpose.”

“Yes, it was.” Liz couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Something about talking without putting on airs or caste felt freeing. Each and every day she had expectations placed on her. Expectations on how to behave, on what to say or what to do. It was part of her station, her job; it was how she earned a living - food, drink, enough tinge to get by, and a roof over her head. In any community, there was some level of expectation. In the Lower Ring, you didn’t steal from others or hurt them. It was taboo. If you committed a crime, depending on what, exactly, it was - you were either ostracized or exiled on the next skyskimmer that left for the Underworld. A fate worse than death—expelled from what many believed to be paradise.

“All I can really gather is placement,” Alex said, looking up the road. The road curved along the face of the mountain until it reached the summit where the Verconis manor sat. The mountain’s summit opened into a clearing surrounded by red leaves and loose foliage. Traveling to the Lower Ring by foot took half a day. With a huttie-drawn carriage, that trip was cut in half. “The Upper Ring is up here, and the Lower Ring is down there.”

Liz followed Alex’s finger. Down the steep incline, into the valley sprinkled with red and orange trees, sat a loose collection of houses and farmland. Blurred specks moved between houses and golden wheatfields. It was hard for Liz to make out from so high up. As she gazed out over the valley, her mind wandered beyond the village and over the mountains on the horizon. A smile pulled at her lips.

“Liz.” A finger snapped in front of Liz. “Liz, hey. I asked a question.”

“Let the girl reminisce, Alexandria,” Baqus said.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Liz blinked, coughing into her hand. “I was thinking about home.”

“Persal, yes?” Baqus asked.

“Yes.” Liz nodded. “It’s beyond the mountains on the other side of the valley.”

“So, you grew up in the Lower Ring.” Alex followed Liz’s glance toward the opposite side of the valley. “The Upper Ring houses the nobles, and everyone else lives below. Is that about right?” Alex turned her head to Baqus, then Liz.

“Not quite,” Liz said. “The names come from an old Seryan legend. The Upper Ring, the halo, belongs to Serya and rests upon her head. The Lower Ring, a dish, rests in her hands, waiting to be filled.”

“That sounds a little condescending to me.” Alex leaned her back against the sideboard. The wood creaked as she pressed into it.

“Stop leaning on the wagon if you don’t want to walk!” Baqus yelled.

“Oh, sorry!” Alex perked up.

Nico once told her the same thing.

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.” Liz clasped her hands together. “But when you’re born and raised in the Lower Ring, you spend a lot of time looking up to the Upper Ring.”

“Literally and figuratively.” Alex crossed her arms, her eyes looming over the people tending the fields in the distance. “The Lower Ring tends the fields while the Upper Ring provides incentives, payment and administrative work?”

Liz’s eyes bulged out of her head.

“What?” Alex frowned. “Why are you giving me that look?”

“You continue to surprise me.”

“You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”

“I’m just surprised you came to that conclusion yourself.”

“So, you’re making fun of me.”

“A little bit.” Liz grinned.

Baqus brandished the reins. The huttie bellowed as it pressed onward down the winding roads of the mountain. The dirt path faded into pressed grass. Wooden fences lined each side of the road, guiding the wagon forward to its destination. The valley shrank away in the distance and the farmlands with it. The forest obscuring the island’s edge gradually thinned, revealing white clouds dancing off on the horizon. A large, wooden dock protruded from the island with a large skyskimmer bolted to the dock on each side. The crest of the Divine Chrysalis, the visage of a dragon, sat proudly, engraved in the partially rusted metal. Two harnessed huttie heaved forward, dragging a large wooden crate off of the skimmer. The huttie’s groans made Liz wince. Even if it was a job they were used to, Liz couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.

Alex turned her head, looking over the tarp of the wagon. Liz followed her line of sight to one of the workers. He stood away from the group. His arms were crossed, his eyes hidden under the wide brim of his hat.

“Is something wrong?” Liz asked.

“No, not really.” Alex sat down.

“So…” Liz’s eyes bounced from the worker to the ship. “That’s the ship you flew up here on?”

“Yeah, that was it.” Alex leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “It was a pretty alright ride, but you can’t really ask for much more from a cargo skimmer. Honestly, I haven't had a smooth ride since I slept on one of those Phemerian skimmers.”

‘Phemerian’ wasn’t a term Liz was familiar with. If it was a larger nation than Serya, then it stood to reason the ride might be more comfortable. Serya had skyskimmers for necessity, not comfort. More skyskimmers of the same build were scattered throughout the rest of the isle. The Upper Ring made heavy use of them for trade with other isles and the Underworld below. The Lower Ring often requested their use, but given the timing of the harvest and the eve of the Two Moon festival, it wasn’t likely to be anytime soon.

The wagon wheels squealed as they turned. The huttie at the front snorted in defiance.

“Come on, girl, just a bit longer. You can do it!” Baqus said as he pulled on the reins. “I believe in you!”

The wagon shook as the huttie pushed forward with Baqus’ words. Houses poked out from behind the treeline. The fence that guided the wagon forward encircled the right side of the village, separating the livestock from the people of the village. Different huttie of various sizes grazed in the field. The halves, young huttie, peered up as the wagon passed, their bulbous eyes uncovered by their thin fur. Liz stared, unable to hide her smile. Most people thought they were ugly, but Liz couldn’t help thinking they were cute. Their black eyes seemed too big for their faces. Their small, stocky hooves and their round, protruding bodies. Liz wanted to jump out of the wagon and shove her face into one of their growing fur coats.

“So, do you guys eat these things or what?” Alex’s words pulled Liz out of her daydream.

“Nah. You got your female huttie that produce milk, and the males pull the wagons,” Baqus said.

“Then, what about this one here?” Alex pointed to the huttie drawing the wagon.

“Muhla here is a bit of a different story.” Baqus patted Muhla on the rear. “She got injured as a halve, so she couldn’t really produce milk when she got older. Couldn’t stand the thought of them putting her down, so I decided to raise her as a draft huttie. Pulling carts and the like. She can’t handle large loads, so I typically just use her to get around.”

“You’re a good man, Baqus,” Alex said.

“Oh, no, no.” He denied Alex’s words. Liz couldn’t help but agree with her. “Just didn’t sit right with me.”

The village of Spavia pulled closer with each shake of the wagon. Top-heavy houses slid into view with sharp-angled roofs packed with dense straw. Familiar red wood made up the front of each house, but there were a few homeowners who went through the trouble of personalizing their homes. Some were black, some were brown, but many were furnished with the color of the wood that Serya had been gracious enough to give. Liz recalled her mother teaching her that even the houses they lived in were another drop in the cup of the Lower Ring.

The dirt road split off like a river, flowing into the open doors of each house. Kids swarmed the streets, running and laughing. The road continued branching until it spilled out into the far side of the village, past the farmhands and the adults speaking in the middle of the street. The road ran parallel to the fence until it vanished off into the distance.

Spavia was no different than Persal. A nostalgic scene that made her yearn for the past. The smell of her mother’s cooking on the windowsill. The sound of her father tapping his workboots on the front porch. A reminder of what she had lost. She didn’t hate her new life, but it wasn’t a replacement for the old.

The wagon rounded another bend as a group of boys approached. They wore loose robes that fell around the waist and baggy, white pants caked with dirt from the outdoors. Liz wore the same thing as a child. Her mom couldn’t keep her from going outside and jumping around in the mud.

“Oh, old man Baqus!” an older boy said as he ran in place. “You’re back in town! Can I play with Muhla?”

“Ah, well,” Baqus mumbled.

“No, let me ride her!” a second boy said. He struggled to keep the rhythm going.

“It’s my turn!” a third chimed in, gasping for breath.

“Where are your parents?” Liz stood up. “You shouldn’t be causing trouble for other people.”

“Oh, uh,” the oldest of the three mumbled. “They’re—”

As if on cue, a man approached from behind the house. He wasn’t walking; he was jogging. His eyes were sharpened to a fine point. “What are you three doing?”

“Sorry, we have to go!” The elder brother clamped his hand around the middle child, and the middle child grabbed the youngest by the nape of the neck. The trio ran off, whipping up a plume of dust as they dashed away.

“They seem like a lively bunch,” Alex said. “You know those three?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve come to Spavia with Baqus.” Liz sat down. “Those three are trouble-makers, but their parents are pretty strict when it comes to discipline.”

“We’re not that strict,” the father said as he continued running in place. “Hey, Liz. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah.” Liz nodded.

“How’s Lord Nico doin’? Haven’t seen him around in a while,” the father said.

“He’s doing fine.” Liz saw no reason to worry him.

“My younger brother has been trying to get a hold of him.” He scratched his chin. “Not sure how to do that, considering he’s part of the Chrysalis and all.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” A loud, booming voice ripped through the air. “Less talking, more running!”

Alex perked up at the voice.

“Man, can’t stop for two seconds?” the boys’ father mumbled. “Sorry, I gotta go!”

“Bye.” Liz waved as the man ran past the wagon and out of sight.

A cloud of dust brewed in the distance. It coalesced, rounding the corner as it dispersed into the open air. A crowd of men and women— about two dozen strong— charged down the street. They jogged, keeping pace with one another. Stragglers that fell out of the pack were quickly absorbed back into the center.

Liz stared wide-eyed, trying to make sense of what her eyes showed her. Communal sprinting wasn't a pastime of Spavia or Persal the last she checked. Maybe it was. She didn’t know everything.

“Keep it moving, people!” The voice blared. “Keep those legs moving!”

“Baqus, here is good.” Alex leaped out of the wagon.

“Alex?” Liz said.

“We found who we were looking for.” Alex pointed ahead to the living dust cloud. To the side, there was a girl about Alex’s age. Her blonde hair was tied up and her arms were adorned with strange, colored markings. She wasn’t dressed in a robe; she wore a buttoned-up shirt with the sleeves cut off. Alex knew her, so she was definitely a Pathfinder. “That’s Aria, alright.”

Aria had no trouble keeping up with the moving mass of people. “Oh, is that Lexi? Hey, how are you doing?”

“Lexi?” Liz chuckled. “That’s cute.”

“Yeah, don’t call me that.” Alex lowered her hand.

The crowd stopped in the middle of the street. They kept running in place, their eyes following Aria as she slowly approached the wagon. “So, how are you doing?”

“Fine.” Alex leaned on the sideboard, arms crossed. “What about—”

“What did I tell you about the sideboard!?” Baqus yelled.

Alex jumped.

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot.”

“Hmph,” Baqus grumbled.

“I need to speak to you, Aria. Something’s come up.” Alex peeled herself off of the wagon, lest she incur Baqus’ wrath thrice in the same day.

“Oh, we can talk here, can’t we?” Aria said, a hand resting on her hip.

“No, no, we can’t.” Alex eyed the jogging villagers.

The crowd dispersed and Baqus went on his way. Afterward, Aria walked Alex and Liz to where she was staying. A quaint cabin near the town’s far exit. Liz found herself staring out at the huttie as they grazed in the pasture. The three children continued their game, running after one another up the hill. The youngest tripped and fell. He didn’t cry; he got up and started running again. Liz leaned over the fence, resting her chin on her arms. Alex leaned her back on a wooden post, relieved that Baqus wasn’t yelling at her. Aria pondered for a moment, her hand resting on her chin.

“So, you’re serious?” Aria spoke into her hand. “You saw a soulforged?”

Liz hadn’t seen it herself, but it didn’t take much for her to guess it was the ‘flaming skull’ that Alex saw that night. She’d never heard of anything called a ‘soulforged’. In fact, she had learned a lot over the past twenty-four hours. The world was a much bigger place than just this small island in the sky.

“Yeah, no doubt about it,” Alex said.

“And there’s the rem, but that goes without saying.”

‘Rem’ must mean ‘remnant’, the ‘lost one’ that Ezia spoke of.

“There’s a lot we don’t know.” Alex pursed her lips. “But I know I don’t like what’s going on here.”

“Oh, you getting extra from the Verconis?” Aria elbowed Alex in the side. “Another month of food, maybe?”

Alex remained quiet.

“Wait, wait.” Aria stepped back. “You’re not doing this for free, are you?”

“Does it matter to you?”

“Well, yes, it does. We’re all on the same contract with the Verconis family.” Aria clicked her tongue. “Uh, excuse me, Liz, was it? What was the name of your guys’ god?”

“Serya?”

“Thank you.” Aria coughed into her hand. “Oh, for Serya’s sake!”

“I’m not from here, and I’m fairly sure I haven’t heard anyone say that.” Alex quirked a brow.

“She’s right,” Liz added.

“Whatever.” Aria flipped a loose hair out of her face. ”So, you’re doing this for free and you came to me because…?”

“People will die if we don’t do something,” Alex said. “That’s why.”

“Correction: we will die if we do something. I’m only doing what I’m paid to do.” Aria poked a finger into Alex’s chest. “That’s training these Uplanders for a month, living it large, then heading back. That’s it.”

“And if a remnant corrodes the island? If more people die?”

“A rem that young can’t corrode anything.” Aria laughed into her hand. “If it was capable of speech, it’s a long way from turning into an actual problem. It might get a few people, but a bit of fear might do these Uplanders some good. They’re way too soft.”

“What about the soulforged?”

“We weren’t hired to deal with a soulforged, were we?”

“No, we weren’t.”

“And what about the rem?”

Alex bit her lip.

“Listen, Lexi, I know you’re a bleeding heart and all that. Believe me, I do.” Aria rested a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “But I don’t want to die for a bunch of people who don’t give a huttie’s ass about us. If this job goes tits up, I’m grabbing you and Krass, kicking and screaming if I have to, and getting out of here. The other PFs can deal with their own evacuation plan.”

“You don’t really understand anything, Aria.” Alex sighed.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re hired the same exact time a remnant shows up here.” Alex pried Aria’s hand off. “On an island where not a single rem has ever been spotted. Tell me, what does that mean to you?”

The timing was something that Alex discussed with Liz. It felt too perfect, too coincidental. Alex’s arrival, the ‘lost one’, Nico going missing.

“I…” Aria buckled. “I’m not sure.”

“They were smuggled in.”

“What?” Aria laughed. “How can you smuggle in a rem? The crew on the skimmer would be black goop before it even made landfall.”

“Wielding a soulforged, you have a chance of killing a remnant,” Alex said.

A soulforged, from Liz’s assumption, was a weapon of the ‘soul’. If a lost one was as dangerous as Alex said, then you would probably need a powerful weapon to defeat them.

“A soulforged can be a weapon, but you said the creature with the flaming skull was one, right?”

“Yeah, more than likely.” Alex clenched her palms. “And if you are a soulforged, then keeping a few remnants contained on a skimmer trip doesn’t seem too impossible now, does it?”

“Wait, wait.” Aria paused. “So, you’re basically saying that the contract was rigged from the start?”

“I’m not saying anything.” Alex said as she moved toward Aria’s cabin. “All the evidence I have is circumstantial. I don’t know anything for sure.”

The door hinge squealed as the door flew open. Alex vanished into the shadow of the cabin. Hay flew out of the cabin as cloth rustled inside.

“Wait, no, Lexi, you’re not grabbing—”

“Of course I am,” Alex said from inside the cabin.

A soulforged could be a person or a weapon, whatever that meant. Liz tried to catch up with the conversation.

Alex walked out of the cabin with a sword sheathed at her waist and something else on her back. It was wrapped in a gray cloth and wrapped with red twine. A thin, rounded edge poked out from the top. It looked like a hilt, but Liz wasn’t sure.

“I think it’s time we got to work.” Alex smiled, her gaze drifting from Liz to Aria. Aria pulled her face down with her fingers.

“Thank you for everything, Alex.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Alex eyed the wrapped object on her back. “We’re just getting started.”

The mystery of Serya isle deepened. Liz had hoped that they might find out something about what Nico was doing with a ‘lost one’. The day was young, and they had time to look around. Liz’s only hope was that Nico read her letter and stayed out of trouble.