All of a sudden, faced with the need to survive together, every past hostility between me and Antony seems to vanish. As if by unspoken agreement, we place ourselves back to back. Then, firing at the soldiers to force them into cover, we begin to move quickly in the direction our companions took.

  Somehow, we manage to fall back to the point where the rebels are regrouping. There, under the others’ cover, we can lower our weapons for a moment.

  “Take control of the velivus,” orders the junior sergeant, seizing the momentary lull. “But don’t board them unless the frigate pulls away. Hide while we bring that vessel down.”

  He means a mid-sized ship moored nearby, at the end of one of those piers jutting out into nothingness like all the others.

  “I’ll join you,” his sister offers, who seems to have abandoned her rifle—perhaps out of ammunition. “Two of you aren’t enough.”

  She raises her staff, as if to show she can still fight.

  “Careful,” warns Antony. “Rain and darkness work in our favour, but once it’s over we mustn’t draw the frigate’s attention, or it’ll all be for nothing.”

  So the two Sanders and I dash to the nearby suspended pier. As we cross it beyond the edge of the fragment, with nothing but the sky opening beneath us, I’m surprised to find that gravity holds true even past the island’s boundary. Not only that: it still points downwards, at least from my perspective.

  I make a mental note to ask Archeos for an explanation about the exact nature of the islands’ mysterious attractive force. Obviously, if I survive.

  Antony climbs aboard the vessel moored there, seemingly deserted, while Dawn and I remain on guard at the pier. Not far off, the sounds of battle for the velivus reach us.

  It takes a couple of minutes before the rebel comes back out. The ship’s engine is now running, and the vessel has started to shift sideways. I notice it’s hooked to posts jutting from the pier. With that lateral movement, it’s slowly sliding past them, working itself free.

  “Let’s go,” urges Antony, rejoining us with a leap. “There might be flying splinters.”

  We hurry to leave the pier. Moments later, with a sinister groan, the vessel tilts. With no one to steer it, its side scrapes along the posts still straining to hold it, the metal twisting out of shape. Then the ship is free…

  … and it begins to plunge.

  “They’ve seen it,” Antony announces.

  The frigate is stirring: a roar rises from its engines, and the hull starts to move to chase after the vessel.

  “They’ve taken the bait!” I exclaim with delight.

  “Watch out!”

  I hear footsteps behind me, and out of the corner of my eye I see a soldier charging at me, sword in hand. Before I can react, I hear Dawn cry out, and a gust of wind sweeps the gendarme back, halting his advance. At once Antony raises his rifle, but no bolt comes out.

  “Tsk!” mutters young Sanders.

  He throws the weapon aside, probably drained, and brandishes a sword stolen from who knows which Republican. With it, he faces the opponent, still off balance from Dawn’s mayea.

  The two trade a couple of blows, then pause for a moment to size each other up.

  “You wouldn’t happen to have a bit of that fire, would you?” the junior sergeant shouts.

  He means me. But even though earlier I showed some sign of finally being able to control that kind of mayea, to go so far as to create actual flames…

  “I don’t think I can use it,” I reply.

  “Then I’ll just have to manage on my own.”

  Antony and the soldier resume their duel.

  Should I help? I wonder. But if I shoot while they’re locked in combat, I could hit Antony.

  Dawn, for her part, gripping her staff tightly, tries to circle the fight, aiming to strike the soldier from the side. He is skilled, though, and manages to avoid being surrounded. So he sets himself to face the two siblings head-on.

  “Ah!” cries the rebel, unleashing her mayea again.

  The soldier withstands the blast of air and parries a surprise attack from Antony. With a deft twist of his arm, he manages to open the young man’s guard. He’s about to seize the chance, when Dawn’s staff slams into his Adam’s apple. The man lets out a strangled noise, clutching his throat.

  A moment later, Antony’s sword finds his side.

  ???

  Once the frigate has drawn far enough away that it can no longer strike them with its anti-air weapons, the three velivus recaptured by the rebels take flight and dart off in different directions, splitting up to increase their chances of escape. Some small republican craft give chase, but the thick cover of clouds hampers them, and Samuel manages to carry his group out of sight.

  Approaching the neighbouring fragments, the pilot begins to weave between them in a slalom to throw off pursuit completely. At last he reaches a stretch of sky free of islands, and the journey to break out of the storm begins.

  Though relieved to have escaped death, I’m gripped by a certain anguish. Now that I can call myself safe, the surge of adrenaline has ebbed, leaving me with immense exhaustion. Yet my heart still pounds as if at any moment I might have to start fighting for survival again.

  Strapped tightly into my seat, I rub my fists: my knuckles ache, and so do various parts of my body. The price of my struggle with the soldier I assaulted just after we emerged from the ruins. Even now, I can’t clearly remember those moments, but I’m fairly sure I took quite a beating.

  Fighting… I don’t like it.

  In my head, fragments of memories of the scenes I’ve been caught up in over the past hours crowd together. A mounting sense of nausea grips my stomach.

  ???

  Several hours later, at dawn and with the storm now behind us, Samuel lands a few kilometres from a small town. This one lies on a particularly large fragment, even boasting a small mountain range. Around the floating mass, other islands are joined to it by what look like tree roots.

  “Why are we stopping?” asks Dawn.

  “The velivus is making a strange noise,” the pilot replies. “I wouldn’t want the Republicans to have tampered with it.”

  We disembark from the craft, which has been set down on a grassy patch sheltered by a hilly area. I stumble a little as I walk away from the vehicle, my legs stiff from the journey. Dawn, on the other hand, decides to help her brothers as they check the engines.

  ???

  “A belt’s worn out,” Samuel grumbles after a while. “Doesn’t look like sabotage. But it needs replacing.”

  While he and Antony begin dismantling the part, Dawn asks:

  “Tell me… how many people did we lose?”

  “Between the missing and the dead… five by the time the velivus took off,” the junior sergeant replies.

  “A third of those deployed on the mission,” adds his brother. “It went very badly.”

  “We inflicted at least three times as many losses on the Republicans,” observes the elder Sanders.

  “Yes… but that’s nothing to be proud of, is it?” Samuel counters. “The fact that we’re spilling the blood of our own brothers, many of whom serve in the army out of necessity, not conviction…”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  “We know there’s no alternative.”

  “Indeed, I’m the first not to show mercy when a wounded enemy stands before me,” the pilot nods.

  It feels like a moment of confession—of emotions and guilt born from what happened at Fairworth.

  “We shall be judged,” Antony declares. “When the time comes… for now, though, we must do what we believe is right.”

  He turns towards Dawn, who has listened silently to the brothers’ exchange.

  “This is war,” the young man states. “There’s no room for sentiment. Ethan’s attitude when we left Hilarion is that of someone who still hasn’t grasped it.”

  “He… he’s never found himself in such situations,” she excuses him. “And neither have I.”

  “Ethan must at least defend himself, but he doesn’t have to do the dirtiest part of the work,” Samuel asserts. “Neither do you, Dawn. The captain exposed you both to this reality so you’d understand what it means. You expressed the wish to help free Father… and to do that you were thinking of a violent action. Well, this is what violence is like. And it can get worse.”

  Half an hour later, the pilot has finished the job. As he wipes his grease-stained hands, he announces:

  “Let’s get ready to leave.”

  “Samuel…” Dawn approaches him, having gone off a few minutes earlier. “I can’t find Ethan.”

  “He’ll have gone to look for a bush.”

  “No… I haven’t seen him since we started working on the velivus,” she insists.

  “Antony,” Samuel calls. “Did you hear that?”

  His brother snorts. So the three spread out through the area, calling Ethan’s name. They wait half an hour, but there’s no sign of the boy. He isn’t in the velivus, nor anywhere nearby.

  “Where could he have gone?” Dawn wonders.

  “Perhaps he’s done the most sensible thing,” Antony replies. “He’s left us… along with the dangers we bring upon ourselves.”

  ???

  At the end of a hurried walk, I reach the settlement I had spotted a few kilometres from where the velivus landed. I turn once more, relieved to confirm I’m not being followed. Thanks to the hills near which it landed, the velivus isn’t even visible.

  Now, among the buildings, I’ll no longer be exposed to prying eyes.

  It would be best to move on to another island… I think I saw some bridges at the far end of town.

  Wrapped tightly in my brown cloak, I begin to walk through the crowded streets. It’s morning: we left the village late at night and flew until the sun came up. I feel very tired, but I have to keep going a little longer to make sure I can’t be tracked.

  It’s a shame to abandon my belongings on the Epos… but in the end, I didn’t really need them.

  I made the decision the moment I realised I could slip away unnoticed. It wasn’t easy; I didn’t have the time to think it through as much as I wanted, but realising I had little time and that such an opportunity might not come again for a long time, I forced myself into a hasty choice. And the negative emotions that had built up during the flight pushed me in a clear direction.

  What happened last night was too much. It’s one thing to defend myself, but now they’re drawing me too deeply into a conflict that has nothing to do with me. I killed people—or at least helped to—and took part in the actions of a group that doesn’t even carry away the bodies of its own fallen.

  It’s too much, I think again. As much as I may have longed for an adventure… this isn’t what I wanted. I wasn’t capable of understanding what it truly meant.

  Sadly, what I said to Dawn just yesterday in the ruins still holds true: in this fragmented world, making it alone will be hard. But I have no choice but to use my wits. Compared to when I first arrived, I at least have some basic knowledge now. I’ll have to make do with that.

  When I reach the bridges, I cross one that leads to an island with a larger city. Before reaching the urban centre, though, there’s a stretch of countryside to cross.

  As I walk through the cultivated fields, I notice a building along the road. It looks like some sort of inn.

  Maybe I should stop.

  I step inside and address the proprietor, a tall, sturdy man with deeply tanned skin.

  “A stranger, eh?” the man replies, when I ask if I can eat something in exchange for a bit of work. “Well, that can be arranged.”

  ???

  After several hours helping out between the storeroom and the kitchen, I’m allowed to sit down in front of a plate of meat. As I wolf the food down as if I hadn’t eaten in days, the innkeeper—his name is Ahis—comments:

  “You really were starving, weren’t you?”

  Mouth still full, I nod, glancing around for a napkin to wipe my greasy hands. The man hands me one.

  “Here you are,” he says. “Where do you come from?”

  We’re in the kitchen, away from the other customers. Once I’ve swallowed, I improvise:

  “I come… from the floating continent.”

  It’s the only place besides Maltia I’ve heard of. I hope that by pretending to be from a foreign land, it’ll be harder to betray how little I actually know.

  “You’ve come a long way,” the man marvels. “Eh… what’s it like, living with only half a sky?”

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “They say there’s so much land there you can’t even see the sky below, unless you travel hundreds of kilometres to reach an edge,” the man insists. “Isn’t that true?”

  “Ah… in that sense, yes. It almost feels as if the world isn’t fragmented.”

  “Uh… too much for me to wrap my head around.”

  Just then, a man in modest clothing enters the kitchen, looking about nervously. At the sight of him, the innkeeper calls out:

  “Jebeof.”

  “Ahis,” the man replies.

  The two move towards each other.

  “What’s happened to you?” Ahis asks.

  “That patrician…” Jebeof begins, clearly shaken. “This time he’s resorted to threats.”

  “What did he say?” asks the other, worried.

  “He’ll have all my fields destroyed… and my buildings too…” Jebeof says. “He told me that’s what he’ll do… if I don’t send him my daughter.”

  “Damned beast!” Ahis bursts out.

  I listen in silence to their conversation, forgetting the meat still left on my plate. The implications I’ve picked up are enough to leave a sudden hollow in my stomach.

  Seriously? It’s come to this?

  “I don’t know what to do,” Jebeof laments. “I don’t want to give in to his blackmail, but what will I do if he carries out his threats?”

  “That’s a serious problem…”

  “Worse still, Liena says she wants to go… she doesn’t want me to lose all my work because of her. She’s willing to suffer just to…”

  “But that’s absurd!” exclaims Ahis. “Damn it… the nobles really are going too far. Do you know how many such vile deeds I hear about?”

  Once the innkeeper has comforted Jebeof and offered him a few words of advice, he returns to me.

  “Best not to have dealings with patricians,” he pronounces. “On the floating continent you don’t have them, do you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Ah… how wonderful,” Ahis sighs. “They’re worse than thieves, murderers and rapists, because they commit the same acts, yet face no trouble with the law. After all, they make the law themselves.”

  “But… doesn’t anyone do anything to put them in their place?” I ask.

  “And how could they?” the man replies. “They have the army, the resources… and not everyone even wants to be rid of them. Those lions of the Resistance fight to oppose them, but it’s a difficult task without the proper means. It’s already something that opponents still exist. Some live as outcasts just to pursue the dream of restoring the old Republic. It’s admirable.”

  “But they have to give up their morals in order to fight,” I observe. “Waging war, killing… without showing mercy…”

  “Yes… even that is a great sacrifice of theirs,” the man affirms. “They give everything to reach their goal… but I don’t believe it corrupts them. They know what needs doing, and they do it, because they want to make their aims real. They grit their teeth in order to do what is right… even when it may not feel that way to them.”

  I remain silent.

  “You may not be convinced,” Ahis adds. “And perhaps they aren’t either. But despite everything, they act—rather than doing nothing.”

  ???

  I’m sitting at the back of the inn. As I reflect, I gaze at the sky: sunset is coming, and as the sun dips, the temperature drops with it. That’s why, after taking it off indoors, I’m now wearing my cloak again.

  “Will you be staying here tonight?”

  Behind me, Ahis has arrived, a heavy brown garment draped over his arm.

  “I think so… may I?”

  “So long as you work…”

  We fall silent, watching the fields behind the building. There, the farm workers are leaving the land to return to their homes.

  “Soon the place will fill with people,” the innkeeper predicts. “But there’s still a little time.”

  “Mr Ahis,” I say. “Do you believe it’s right to take part in a conflict that isn’t your own?”

  “A question as complicated as it is sudden,” the man remarks. “Right… for whom?”

  “I… I don’t know. I suppose for one’s own conscience.”

  “Ah, but that’s a personal matter,” the man asserts. “What’s happening in that conflict? Is there something one would wish to fight for? Is one of the parties trampling on an ideal of ours? There are many reasons to join a clash, but if it clashes with our conscience… that’s for us alone to decide.”

  “I… I’m running from a conflict that doesn’t concern me,” I confess. “I got caught up in it against my will, and I didn’t like what I saw. I pulled away because… it was forcing me to do unpleasant things.”

  “Yes,” the innkeeper says. “It can turn out that way, and if it truly didn’t concern you, no one can blame you for running. But…”

  He steps forward, coming to stand beside me.

  “By coming into contact with a conflict, you might feel you must take part,” he goes on. “Is there a reason to join it? If so, then avoiding it truly becomes an escape. In this republic there are abuses by the patricians, and the people respond with the birth of groups like the Resistance. It reminds me a little of what happens in my own homeland, on the floating continent.”

  A shiver runs through me. This man… he’s from the floating continent? But earlier he pretended not to know how things work there! Then…

  “There are nations there with governments similar to here,” Ahis explains. “Something like the patricians, who control the rest of the people without rebellion. That’s why, when I came to Maltia, I was struck to discover a similar situation but with some who resisted… and I couldn’t help but be moved, finding a reason to fight as well in these archipelagos. For that reason, when I later withdrew from the fighting, it was an escape.”

  He takes the garment draped over his arm and puts it on: a brown cloak, very similar to the one I’m wearing right now.

  “And I regret it every day,” the man concludes.

  I stare at him in astonishment. This man… he’s a former rebel!

  Now it makes sense. When he saw my cloak, he recognised it! He never believed my nonsense about the floating continent: he was just testing me!

  And he seems to have grasped perfectly why I’m here, lost.

  “Will the same happen to you?” the innkeeper asks. “Will you be able to live in peace with yourself?”

  He’s caught me out completely. But even so, he isn’t hostile. On the contrary… his words sink all the deeper now that he’s revealed who he is.

  I lower my gaze, pensive. Then I stand.

  “Thank you, Mr Ahis,” I say. “But I think I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight.”

  “Truly?” he says. “And where will you be? Among comrades?”

  “I… perhaps.”

  “Then be quick about it,” the man urges, giving me a wink. “And take them my regards.”

  I smile. Then I turn and set off along the road leading to the bridges.

  ???

  Earlier, in fleeing, I acted on impulse. No, that’s not quite right: I seized an opportunity which, according to my original plans, was too good to ignore. Yet in doing so, I overlooked something… namely, the fact that much has changed since I first drew up my plan for surviving on Tersain.

  By distancing myself from the rebels, however, and from the path I had been following with them, it has become much clearer what it is I’ve broken away from. As though, by moving away, the bigger picture came into sharper focus. What I heard at the inn, and what Ahis said, completed the outline that had begun to form in my mind. Yes… things are different now.

  Striking out on my own into the unknown of Maltia… it makes no sense! Not now… not before I’ve clarified the position I want to take.

  Retracing the road takes me a long time, so much so that the sun sets completely along the way. I return to the first town I passed through, and from there head into the open land, towards one of the edges of the fragment. A light breeze rises, whipping my cloak behind me.

  At last, I arrive at the place where I left the velivus. I know I won’t find it there, but I wanted to come all the same. Just in case…

  But… what’s happened?

  Where once the craft stood, illuminated by the last light of dusk, now lie scattered charred wreckage. Something violent has taken place… and of the Sanders siblings there is no sign.

  ahead of Royal Road?

  You can find them on my website:

  See you in the next chapter!

  Tonkipappero) for her wonderful illustrations!