Chapter 222: Floodplains (Patreon)

The last night in Flehullen passed quickly. I said my goodbyes to my elders, my teacher, and the other grand elders. They all knew I planned to do my own thing for a while, so it wasn’t a surprise, but those closest to me still wanted to spend the night together.

It took a while to convince my elders to try some of the ursu’s spirits, but once they did, they might as well have become addicted. As unappealing as it looks, there’s no denying the warmth of the drink.

Saying goodbye is never easy, but I’ll be back soon enough. I need to be here when they move on to the pact nations. Three months is what we agreed on.

I wave to Yalun, Cyrus and Enya through the small glass window of the train as it leaves the station.

The ursu make glass themselves, but it is apparently difficult for them to make large pieces without them being incredibly prone to shattering. Surprisingly, it’s what New Vetus is most interested in trading with us, rather than our ability to offer more efficient energy. They’ve also shown a desire for our version of inscriptions, our patterns.

Particularly, they want our fireproofing for their wooden buildings. If our fires couldn’t burn through the resistance of the pattern provided simply by willing it, my elders wouldn’t even consider it; they would never empower a potential enemy’s defence against us. But that is not a worry, so it’s simply another offer on the table.

With the ursu’s capital city shrinking in the distance, I turn to Leal. “So? Once we’re at the southern coast, am I flying you again, or do you want to organise a ship?”

If we have to search the ocean for any length of time, then I’d rather have somewhere to land every so often, even if it is a floating vessel. I’ve grown a lot since I carried Leal across the sea separating both halves of New Vetus, but the ocean is a dangerous place; I’d rather not have to carry her endlessly.

“Oh, we’re not going straight out over the ocean,” Leal says. “The open ocean is too treacherous to travel without a massive warship. But it’s not all bad; the Anatla beam originated along the Warring Isles. We can head east first, before hopping between islands.”

I lean forward in my too-large, yet comfortable seat. “The Warring Isles? Nothing I’ve heard of that place makes it sound peaceful.”

Leal nods. “It’s not, but we aren’t taking anything valuable with us.” Her eyes flicker to my spear. “Or at least not anything that should interest the heqet too much. Besides, I’m sure we won’t have too much issue if we have to fight.” She gives me a pointed look.

I roll my eyes and lean back in my soft chair. The cabin we’re in is no different from the many others on the train, but considering it’s a room for four ursu shared only between the two of us, it’s rather spacious.

“So how far can we get before I need to fly?” I ask. It’s incredibly convenient to have these fast vehicles connecting the nation like this, but I doubt they’ve got tracks going exactly where we need.

“Our final stop is the far southeast corner of New Vetus. From there, we’ll trek — or fly — through the Floodplains to the Mrtyuñ Coast. From there, it shouldn’t be difficult to hop between islands.”

“So you don’t want to get a ship?” I ask.

“Absolutely not.” Leal shakes her head. “No boat would last a week through the Isles. There isn’t a crew in New Vetus that would risk it. Well, we could get one just between the two of us — I’d be able to control its motion rather easy with my markings — but it’ll be more difficult than its worth to defend.”

“Are the heqet really that dangerous?”

Leal waves her hand in uncertainty. “It’s hard to say. All I know is that we’ve stopped sending ships far off our southern coast because they rarely return. The heqet are infamous for their unequivocal aggressiveness, but it’s possible those crews simply fell to the ocean itself.”

“Huh.” Let’s hope we don’t have to fight any heqet, then. For both ours… and their sake. “What about this Mrtyuñ Coast? Anything we need to worry about?”

“I don’t think so,” Leal says. “They’re a rather poor nation — if they can even be called a nation — but they do have more land than their northern neighbours. The Floodplains are a natural barrier between our countries, so we don’t hear much from them.” She lifts a hand to her chin before exclaiming. “Oh! It rains a lot in the region.”

“Great,” I grouch. It is only when Leal sends me an apologetic expression that I realise I said that aloud.

It is absolutely pouring when our train finally slows into the final station.

Because of course it is.

Thankfully, it’s nowhere near as bad as the storm around the ancient chthonic island. Still, I pull up my hood before securing my gloves and mask to protect me from the falling water. I can’t stop my resigned sigh as I realise not only will I be flying over the ocean again, but I’ll be doing it in constant rain. Why must the past repeat?

Leal steps off the train and I follow close behind, dashing to the cover provided by some sort of mail office right beside the railway.

Unlike Flehullen, this train station doesn’t have a full structure built around the rails to provide cover. Not even a raised platform waited for us to step off. Just the pavement a metre and a half below the train doorway.

The city itself is rather small. Stone walls and tall towers hang at the edge of the ocean; guards against the waves. A thin channel of water flows between the defences to a dock located in the middle of the city. Though, maybe city is the wrong word. This is a fort.

Despite Leal’s words that they don’t send out any ships from here, there are two large battleships floating in the docks, and the framework of a third stands tall on the stone beside the artificial bay. None are as large as the Henosis ship I was stuck on, but are each intimidating in their own right.

The massive ships really are another reminder that New Vetus has evolved and adapted after the invasion. Back then, they didn’t have the navy to oppose Henosis in the waters. Now, they’ve taken in their enemies’ weapons, and are recreating them to their own specifications.

I wonder what a Henosis invasion would look like now?

“So, shall we head out?” Leal asks.

I peer up to the dark crimson storm above through the goggles linked to my outfit and sigh as I nod. No point delaying things. My white flames scorch at the air until steam obscures me completely. I disperse, and so too does my snowsuit. Wings form, much larger than what I could previously create, and go to pick up Leal.

“Wait, hold on,” she says as she closes her eyes and holds her hands over her shoulders.

As I watch, droplets sap at my energy. The rain doesn’t hurt at this rate, but it is still an annoyance. The Anatla energy flows down Leal’s fingers, spreading across her arms, then through her chest. Energy of constantly changing colour and nature takes its grip on her body and alters her markings. The only markings that don’t change are those guiding the unnatural energy.

The fact that she so willingly uses the energy of the Anatla concerns me. I’d asked her to get rid of it, to remove whatever possible connection it can take in her body, but Leal said that was impossible. Apparently, no matter what she tries, she can’t remove the markings that hold the energy in her shoulders, nor can she remove it from her body.

I do not like it, but if she can’t get rid of it, she may as well make use of the energy.

Once the shift in her markings is done, the Anatla’s energy recedes back into her shoulders, but she has regained her wind mage markings. Leal stands tall and her new markings glow. Rapid gusts blow around us, coiling up beneath her and lifting the ursu off the ground.

She looks down to me from where she now hovers. “You like?” she asks, grinning.

Despite my concerns, I very much do. If she can fly herself, then I won’t have to worry about carrying her and can hide away from the rain again. But first… I need to test her. “How fast can you fly?”

“Uh…” she trails off as she looks down at her feet that she kicks out, clearly uncomfortable having nothing beneath her. “Let’s see.”

Slowly, Leal gains speed. The distortion of high-pressure air around her body twists the light ever so slightly, but it only pushes her to a bit more than a sprint. She needs too much energy simply to keep aloft, pushing herself in any direction in addition must be challenging. It’s fast enough for casual use, but not if we want to cross any distance in a reasonable time-frame.

Looks like I’ll need to carry her, regardless.

The inferno that is my current body swirls through the air before grasping her. Leal’s flowing, pressurised air holds back my fire for only a moment before I break through the barrier and grasp her. Leal doesn’t fight my grip as wings form around us. She resigns herself, allowing me to carry her weight entirely.

She’s heavier than a year ago, but with so much fire at my disposal, I don’t even need to make those complex jets to keep us gliding. It takes a moment to realise she’s refocused her markings on creating a barrier over us, blowing the rain away from my blaze.

“Thanks,” I say, but Leal’s too busy looking below.

“Uh, maybe we should have done this further away.”

Unsure what she means, I focus below. All the ursu have stopped to look up at us as we pass.

Ah.

With wings larger than even Grímr’s, and a body of nothing but burning swathes, I must make quite the spectacle. That’s not to mention the mass of steam following in our trail, nor the umbrella of air hanging over us. What must they think of us?

“Well, it’s too late to worry about it.” I swing my long wings, cupping immense amounts of air beneath the solid flames, and we shoot forward.

In no time at all, we are out of sight of the city and find ourselves over a vast expanse of shallow waters. Patches of land rise to break up the sea, but mostly, it’s flat. This must be the Floodplains.

“I’ve heard the waters here rise and fall unpredictably,” Leal says. “That’s what makes crossing it so hard. It’s simply easier to circumvent it across the northern sea, but that means passing through Elear. Nobody wants to pass through Elear.”

“Is there any reason people travel toward Elear and Mrtyuñ, then?” I ask.

“Not any ursu. But traders from other nations sometimes try to pass through our borders and the Floodplains to reach the Ríkr Triumvirate. I think they can make a lot of wealth there, but um…”

Oh, right; New Vetus doesn’t have its own currency, so the money-orientated goals of some I’ve seen in the northern nations would seem alien to Leal, even if she understands it. I mean, it still feels strange to me, and I spent a good portion of my life amongst those with cultural monetary incentives.

Now that I think about it, Remus did say I had a pile of my own coin amassed somewhere. I wonder how much?

We soar over the plains at speed, Leal’s winds accelerating me further, but it is not a short distance to cross. The world is simply too big. I’d hate to ever need to travel from this far south to the northern tip of the pact nations with any haste. I’m fast right now, and I still think that trip would take over a month. Well over, if I had to carry Leal with me.

Hopefully one day, the distances between all the places I know won’t feel so far.

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Morning everyone! Thanks for the support :D