The airship station was as grand inside as it was out, with high ceilings atop towering pillars and sweeping arches. Amber floors were polished to a shine, and along with ticket boots, two cafés, snack vendors, and waiting areas were scale models of airships and exhibits about the history of commercial flight, from the first single-seater balloons to the grand airships of the modern day.
The exhibits, vendors, and waiting areas formed a circular perimeter around the center, concentric rings serving different purposes. The outer ring was luggage pick-up, the next ring in was the security checkpoint, and the center of the station was a set of four huge lifts, great mechanical elevators to deliver passengers and cargo up to and down from the station’s ceiling.
Through the fogged glass of the station’s domed ceiling, the silhouette of their airship loomed large, currently docking atop the station.
“It’s enormous,” Erika said, gazing up and around in awe.
“There are so many people,” Enrique said, taking in the crowds, especially those lined up to purchase tickets. “Do we have enough time?”
“Oh, we’ve got plenty of time,” Tsubasa said. “Always get to the airship station at least two hours before your departure time — that’s the number one rule of air travel!”
“Two hours?” Erika asked. “It takes that long to buy tickets and board?”
“Not for us,” Tsubasa said. “We’re just buying day tickets. But if you’re flying long-distance, you need to purchase cabin tickets so you have a space to sleep, and you have more luggage, which needs to pass the security check.”
“You can sleep on an airship?” Enrique asked, gazing up at the airship’s shadow.
“They travel across the entire realm,” Tsubasa said, “flying to every continent, as well as to Kisetsuryuu-En. Travel that far takes time. The fastest circumnavigational flight took three weeks — and that was with only three stops to refuel and then depart again. Actual passenger flight to far-flung lands, with all the numerous stops on the way, can take quite some time. Trains are faster for shorter distances, since there isn’t a long docking and liftoff procedure, but otherwise, airships are still the fastest way to travel across the world.”
“Three weeks…” Enrique said, his eyes slowly tracking to the exhibits on display in the waiting area.
“You’ll have plenty of time to check them all out,” Tsubasa said, smiling at him.
They made it through the line and bought their tickets in thirty minutes, and took another twenty minutes to check in. Which left them more than enough time to browse the various exhibits. Enrique was especially enamored with the long display case that showed scale models of airships across the ages, charting the technological development of flight from the beginning to the modern age. Though, as he and Roland looked at the informational chart explaining speed and fuel-efficiency increases over time, Roland noticed Enrique seemed rather disappointed.
“What is it?” Roland asked.
“It’s just… I’m fairly sure our ship could fly much faster than even the best airship today,” Enrique said. “I know it’s a smaller, personal craft, but even so, the difference in speed is…” He shrugged. “It seems strange. I was too young when we lived in New Elysia to take it all in, but now that I can see this world, and compare your technology with ours, it appears that we’ve made certain advancements beyond what you even consider possible. It doesn’t seem right.”
“What’s wrong about it?” Roland asked.
“Why would we keep all of that to ourselves?” Enrique asked. “If we could have always flown here, why didn’t we before our parents fled from New Elysia? Why did it take catastrophe to make us come to your world? And even now… Reunion isn’t working with your people, sharing technology and really connecting with your society. They’re not like Tsubasa, and her family, and the many other families in Gardenia who came from other lands. They’ve become a part of the world they moved to. But our people — my people… we still keep to ourselves.”
“You’ll see your parents soon,” Roland said. “These sound like very good questions to ask them. And with what we’ve seen from Lairah, perhaps there’s hope for Reunion, too. Maybe not all of them. But I’m sure some of them don’t really want to be inflicting harm on others, isolating themselves from the people around them. I think… none of you ever wanted to leave New Elysia, except to go back to the true Elysia. No one from New Elysia wanted to come here. And now that you’re here, your parents are focused on a mission, you and your sister have been focused on a mission, and Reunion has been focused on their own aims. None of you came here to visit, to join this world, to really meet people and be a part of it. That’s a big difference from Tsubasa’s family.”
“But that’s not entirely true,” Enrique said, looking at his sister, who was playing a card game with Tsubasa over in the waiting area. “Our parents… they asked us to chronicle the wishes of the world. They wanted us to meet people. To learn their deepest desires. We always thought about the end goal — Elysia — more than the journey. But now that I’ve been wondering about wishes, and Elysia, and whether our quest makes any sense… I’m starting to wonder if the whole point of the quest was the journey. Our parents have removed themselves from the physical world. Reunion is masked and cloaked, their members chasing after us and our parents and doing little else. But Erika and me… we’ve actually been in this world. Talking to real people, asking them real questions.” He looked up at Roland. “We’ve met you, and Tsubasa, and Muirrach, and now we’re even traveling with you. “We’re only children. So we can’t share any special technology with you, and we were so young when we left home that we can’t really share our culture with you, either. But… we’ve become a part of this world. New Elysia is home. But so is this.”
Roland’s thoughts echoed with Tsubasa’s conflicted feelings over that powerful word: home. He had conflicted thoughts, too, as an orphan, constantly adrift from one “home” to another, but never really feeling at home.
The closest thing he had to a place he considered home was Wonderia — and a realm itself always felt too big to be home. But maybe Enrique was onto something. Their time in this world, in the twin realms of Wonderia and Albia, had been spent traveling. On the move, never staying long in one place. They had no roots here.
But could this world that they traveled, all the places they visited, all of it — could such a huge place be called home?
“Hey, guys!” Tsubasa called, waving. “They’re letting us board soon. You don’t want to miss this!”
Roland found himself almost as excited as Enrique as they joined the others and headed to the boarding lift. He’d traveled quite extensively across both realms — but he’d never been aboard an airship. He’d spent many days watching them fly overhead, marveling at their design, wondering at the feeling of being in the sky, sailing amongst the clouds.
You’ve lived plenty longer than these two children. And yet you still have plenty of brand new experiences awaiting you.
The lift could carry up to thirty passengers at a time, and it began its ascent full to capacity. Erika and Enrique were the youngest aboard, so the crowd happily allowed them and their guardians to wait right at the gate, ready to board the ship first. Erika and Enrique kept their bright green eyes fixed upwards, eagerly awaiting the moment when silhouette would become reality.
As they came close to the glass ceiling, a large panel slid back. The lift operator warned those with hats to hold onto them, and his warning was soon understood, as wind came rushing in from above. Two ladies with elaborate hats nearly lost them — but Tsubasa was quick enough and close enough to catch them both, handing them back with a smile.
And then they were up in open air, and the airship loomed above them. The Symphonic Dream was its name, painted across the side of the ship and emblazoned on the pennants hanging from the massive balloon, accompanied by artwork of musical notes soaring amongst the clouds. The canvas balloon dwarfed the ship it carried, but the ship was no tiny vessel. It was a proper luxury cruise ship, easily two hundred yards long, with an opulent upper deck with wraparound floor-to-ceiling windows. The lower decks seemed aglow, thanks to a polished, rosy wood exterior, and the hundreds of porthole-style windows spoke to the enormity of the interior and its many, many cabins and other rooms.
A boarding ramp was extended, and the Symphonic Dream’s bridge crew were all there to welcome their passengers aboard. The captain smiled at the twins’ unmistakable excitement, and Roland, Tsubasa, Muirrach, Erika, and Enrique had the honor of being the first to board the ship.
Up the boarding ramp, they passed through a small passage with two gates. Both gates were open now, but when closed, this small passage and its two gates would serve as an airlock system, equalizing the pressure and air quality of the ship even as it soared higher than any mountain peak. The air above the clouds was frigid cold and thin, hard to breathe — but the passengers of the Symphonic Dream wouldn’t notice any discomfort whatsoever. It would be warm, comfortable, and very breathable aboard the ship.
Through the airlock, gasps arose from the twins — and Roland, he realized, a moment after it escaped his lips. The architects of the Symphonic Dream knew how to give a phenomenal first impression. The ship’s entrance hall was aglow with warmth, a massive crystal chandelier shimmering above sweeping staircases leading up to the top deck and down to lower decks. Beautiful bouquets nestled in vases adorned numerous pedestals, and the walls displayed several paintings from classical masters, evoking the adventurous spirit that led to such marvels of aerial engineering as the airship Roland and company now stood in.
“Don’t stand here gawking at the entrance hall all day,” Tsubasa said with a laugh, nudging Roland and the twins forward. “We’ve gotta get to the general seating area for liftoff. It’s this way.” She showed them the way just before a stewardess started to announce to the boarding passengers which way to head — to the left, through a door and towards the front of the ship. The corridor took them alongside many windows, which let them all look out and see how high up they already were — and they haven’t even started flying, yet!
Then they entered the general seating area, arranged like a miniature auditorium with the front wall, the “stage” being a huge window that allowed them to see the beginning of this journey with perfect clarity. Erika wanted front-row seats, but Enrique took a moment walking up and down the aisles, looking at different viewing angles, before suggesting the middle row. Erika agreed, and they all sat in the middle row, halfway up. “Ooh, this does have a better view,” Erika said, beaming.
Right now they just saw the roof of the station, and the city’s skyline beyond. But passengers were getting seated, and the stewardesses were helping everyone get settled, while the captain chimed in over the intercom, asking the passengers to prepare for departure in fifteen minutes.
“That’s a long wait,” Erika said, bouncing a little in her seat.
“It’ll pass quick, just you wait and see,” Tsubasa said.
As the other passengers settled into their seats, some of them opened up books and started to read. Erika suggested that Enrique could use this time for reading, too, but he shook his head. “I don’t want to miss a moment,” he said, staring intently out the front window.
Fifteen minutes passed quickly, and the final announcement was made, along with final checks. Then, with a distant hum of the engines, several of the passengers, including the twins, gasped softly as the first sensation of liftoff occurred. There was a brief sensation of increased weight, like being pushed down in your seat. It was slight, but noticeable — and accompanied by the sight of world descending outside the front window, there was no doubt what was happening.
The world fell away beneath them. The Symphonic Dream rose higher than the highest building, and beyond it, starting to move forward as all obstructions disappeared below. Before them stretched a startling vastness of green — fields and farmland and forests, stretching on to a distant horizon. The sky was so blue, so open, so wide, no longer just above them but beside them, embracing them at the beginning of their journey. Not a cloud floated in the sky, so there was nothing else to rise above for the moment, even as they continued to climb towards a proper cruising altitude. Erika and Enrique were constantly sweeping their eyes across the entire view, trying to take in the grandness of it all as best they could.
When they finally did reach cruising altitude and the captain came on the intercom to announce they could move freely throughout the ship, Erika and Enrique were out of their seats and standing right up against the front window before Roland had even finished undoing his seatbelt. “Incredible view, isn’t it?” he asked as he joined them at the front.
“The world’s so big,” Erika said. “We flew once, to get here, but it was so long ago, and so fast, so dark. It was nothing like this.”
“I’m sure our own ship could go much faster than this,” Enrique said. “But we’d miss so much, going that fast. This is better, I think.”
Roland smiled. “We can explore the whole ship now, if you like.”
Erika gazed up at him in undisguised hope. “Can we?”
They could, and so they did. It was harder to tear Enrique away from the view, but once they’d left the main stage and started into the ship again, he was looking up and around at every sight, marveling at the ornate decorations, the grandiosity of the suitably named grand staircase, the elaborate paintings of distant lands, the cushy comforts of various lounges and the ship’s library, and the various views from perimeter walkways and the second stage on the rear deck, with a similar huge wraparound window looking out upon the world.
Erika was particularly curious about the long cabin corridors. “So many doors!” she said. “What’s inside?”
“These are basic cabins,” Tsubasa said, “for overnight passengers on a budget. Some are singles, some are doubles, but either way each passenger gets a bed, and… not much else. But most passenger time is spent about on the ship anyway.”
They walked down the long hall of many doors, and climbed the grand stair to a higher deck, where a different hall of many doors — these spaced much farther apart, and a bit more ornate — awaited them.
“And these are luxury cabins,” Tsubasa said, walking backwards down the corridor like a tour guide,” for overnight passengers who want to travel in, well, luxury. They get a whole suite, with fancy four-poster bed, writing desk, big bathroom with a tub and shower, a personal closet for their belongings, and a big window with a great view.”
“Have you ever been in one?” Erika asked.
“Oh, no,” Tsubasa said with a laugh. “These are for dignitaries, celebrities, wealthy businessmen and the like. People with clout and wealth combined, or wealth enough to make up for a lack of clout. I’ve taken some overnight flights in a basic cabin. And I’ve even stowed away in the engine room before. There are some nice, cozy corners down there to sleep in. The engines provide a lovely lullaby.”
“You’ve been a stowaway?” Erika asked, gaping. The matter-of-factness with which Tsubasa had relayed this information only made it more surprising.
“Yup!” Tsubasa said. “Well, not a complete stowaway. I paid for a ticket — just not an overnight one. I was on a tight budget, though. I was only fifteen, after all.”
“You flew overnight by yourself when you were fifteen?” Roland asked.
Tsubasa grinned. “I spent lots of time going back and forth when I was further along in my training,” she said. “Dojo in Fujitoshi, home in Gardenia.” She shrugged. “I had to be independent at a young age if I was going to commit to my training. And I wanted to be independent early on. So it all worked out.” She then turned on her heel as they reached the end of the corridor, and asked, “Want to see something really cool?”
“Yes, please!” the twins said.
Up the stairs they went, until they couldn’t go up any further. Or so they thought. But Tsubasa took them through the upper dining hall, around a bend, and then down a corridor to a chamber that held yet another staircase, this one a wrought metal spiral stair that rose up to a new level. Tsubasa led the way, and at the top they found themselves in a strange space — open, so open it felt like they were outside, though there was no wind, and yet it wasn’t bright from the endless open sky but shaded.
And then they looked up. And found themselves gazing at the underside of the great balloon that held the Symphonic Dream aloft. Its great canvas expanse stretched so wide out in all four directions that it blocked the sun above. And in the center of this open chamber, was a small space enclosed in glass. Through a glass door, an engineer watched over a mechanical device nearly as tall as the engineer himself, made of pipes and mechanical boxes, a complex engine with numerous display panels, dials, switches, and levers. Atop this engine, firing into an opening at the glass ceiling that fed into the balloon itself, was a jet of flame.
“What is it?” Erika asked.
“One of an airship’s two hearts,” Muirrach said. “This is the sky engine.”
“Two hearts…” Enrique mused. “Two engines, then. One for the mechanical propulsion of the ship, and one for the balloon. But why fire? What if the balloon ignites?”
“It may be canvas,” Muirrach said, “but it isn’t so fragile as it may seem. And the device is quite ingenious. Heat fills the balloon, not fire. The fire is just the catalyst for the heat. Fear not.” He smiled. “Airships are the safest mode of transportation in all the realms.”
“It’s fascinating,” Enrique said, walking around the enclosure, peering in at all angles to get a proper look at the device and its operation. The engineer smiled and waved at him, and then opened the door and asked if Enrique would like to see things up close. Enrique eagerly accepted, and the engineer brough them all in and gave them a full tour of the sky engine, explaining all its functions and operation.
Their curiosity wonderfully satisfied, time soon came for hungry stomachs to make their needs known. The group descended into the ship’s main levels, and headed to the middle dining hall, which Tsubasa claimed was the best. “We can’t dine on the fanciest foods in the upper dining hall,” she said, “but that’s just fine. Overpriced and underspiced, I like to say. Trust me — the cheaper food tastes way better.”
And she was right. Dining on massive portions for a surprisingly low price, they ate delectable stir fry bowls packed with veggies, meat, rice, and eggs, and had lovely buttery pastries on the side. The tea was an aromatic, floral selection, with a hint of cinnamon that gave the warm, smooth contents a nice subtle undertone of spice. Dessert was an option, but by the time they’d finished their main course, they were all quite content and didn’t have room for dessert — aside from Tsubasa, who elected to have a second heaping bowl rather than dessert.
As they finished their meal, the sun was beginning to set, and an announcement came over the intercom that the best views would be out the port side, and to be mindful of looking out the starboard side, due to the extreme angle of the sun and risk of eye damage. Along with that was also the announcement that they would be reaching and passing through the Veil in two hours, not long after sunset.
“What’s the Veil?” Enrique asked.
“The boundary between Albia and Kisetsuryuu-En,” Tsubasa said. They stood gathered on the port side of the main stage, watching a vast world aglow with a golden sunset. “It’s no mistake that some scientists and philosophers consider Kisetsuryuu-En a ‘fourth realm’ alongside Albia, Wonderia, and Elysia. While geographically, all signs point to Kisetsuryuu-En existing within the physical bounds of Albia, you can’t sail there, or drive there — though you’d need a heck of a bridge to drive there.” She chuckled. “The Four Dragon Devas placed a Veil over their Garden, safeguarding it as a sanctuary. A place where the seasons, and their people, live in harmony. That’s why each major region of the archipelago plays host to a single, eternal season: Haruo for eternal spring, Natsuo for eternal summer, Akiyo for eternal autumn, and Fuyuo for eternal winter.” She beamed at those last words. “And it’s worked out really well for centuries. There have never been any major conflicts between the four regions, and even minor conflicts have been disputes that were settled without violence. Thanks to the Veil, there have been almost no outside attacks or invasions, too. There were some incidents in Haruo — I heard about some abductions by an assassins’ guild years ago — but largely, the Dragons’ Garden has been able to live in peace ever since its inception.”
“Certainly more so than the other realms,” Muirrach said. “Especially in the immediate aftermath of the Fracturing, war and conflict was rampant. We’ve settled into a very respectable peace now for nigh on a century, but it was hard-fought.”
“But you can fly through the Veil,” Enrique said. “Doesn’t that pose a threat to the peace the Dragons intended? If they meant to keep Kisetsuryuu-En —” he took that word slowly, and Tsubasa smiled encouragingly at him, “safe from outside dangers, why allow outsiders to enter at all?”
“Because complete isolation isn’t how the world is meant to be,” Tsubasa said. “We shouldn’t all be finding our own corners of the world and sticking to them, shunning everyone else. That so easily festers discord, and, well… we’ve seen what discord did for the world.”
They all stood in silence for a long moment at that. The stories had always been known, of course, passed down in the Canticos, of the chaos after the Fracturing. But these five had stood in Aîrchal, had watched through mirrors and then stepped into and lived the moments leading to the Fracturing. A world at war, a vicious, horrifying struggle suffocating with death, rage, and despair.
And a crystal, the heart of the world, shattered. A brokenness that had yet to be mended, eons later.
The sun set. Night fell, and the stars came out, twinkling beautifully in a clear sky, innumerable and oh so clear, this far away from the lights of the city, from the barriers and obstacles of the land when standing on the ground.
Here in the sky, they were free to see the sky in its truest beauty.
They did take a break, though, to change into their winter clothes. The passage through the Veil wasn’t far off, now, and it wasn’t long after that that they’d be disembarking in Fujitoshi. Roland was glad of the clothes he’d chosen, and glad of his own experience. He’d faced harsh winters and frozen climates before, and he knew that there was a delicate balance between dressing for warmth and dressing for function. It was easy to be warm, if one wasn’t going to be moving around. You could drench yourself in thick, cozy layers and be just fine. But if one was going to be moving — whether it was as simple as walking around a big city, or as intense as a fight for one’s life — that changed things. Sweat became a dangerous thing in winter weather. The right kinds of materials helped wick moisture away from the body, while insulating and retaining body heat in cold climates. Even then, it was important to have layers that were easy to remove, in case temperature changes in the climate, or one’s body, or both, changed drastically enough that a change in attire was needed. Not to mention, in snowy climates, it was important to also have clothes that repelled outside moisture — while managing the body’s own moisture effectively.
And so Roland had landed on an ensemble that suited his needs quite nicely, and also fit his taste. He was quite fond of sky tones — he’d always worn blues and greys beneath the white coat that was his uniform at the Tower. Now, he switched out that white coat, that had always been at least two sizes too big for his skinny frame. He’d liked it that way, but he’d chosen instead a grey coat, a knee-length woolen coat that was light and slim, and most importantly, easy to move around in. If he needed to, he could fight without a worry in this coat — and though the sleeves were full length and more fitted at the cuff to match with gloves and allow for better heat retention, they were designed to be able to be unbuttoned and rolled up, if the situation called for it. Beneath his coat he had a black vest over a light, sky-blue sweater. He’d chosen a pair of dark blue pants, which tucked nicely into black, mid-calf-height boots with a pale blue trim and accents, so light they were almost white. Black wool gloves, fitted nicely and light to allow for ease of movement and function — but these he tucked in his pocket for now, not needing them until they arrived. His hat, too, a dark blue knitted cap that would cover his ears and keep his whole head nicely warm, he tucked into a pocket. The final piece was a light blue scarf with a beautiful golden sigil at either end — an Elysian eagle, to many a symbol of freedom, but also of curiosity, the curiosity that drove a mind like Roland’s to explore, to study, and to see the world and endeavor to understand it to the best of his ability, with open eyes, ready to accept the truth, whatever form it took. It was a long scarf, and he let the ends hang out long over his shoulders, while looking forward to the warmth it would provide when he pulled it up over his face to protect against wintry chill.
Joining the others in the hall, he saw that Muirrach was nicely bundled up, his missing arm not a problem in the slightest — and he’d dressed with the same mindset and experience of Roland, able to move as much freely even if it came to a fight, and able to adjust his layers with ease if things got too warm. He wore earthen tones, as he often did, and the muted reds and greens suited him quite nicely.
The twins looked very cozy, both choosing to stick to their main color: white. But they’d added color with mittens, hats, and scarves, with Erika choosing pink, while Enrique chose green.
It was upon Tsubasa’s emergence that the shared theme was broken. Where four dressed warmly, covering up against the coming chill… Tsubasa had kept her usual outfit of cropped top and short shorts, and even still had the sleeves of her yellow jacket rolled up to just below the elbow. It was apparent that she’d switched to thicker, warmer socks, from the fluff noticeable at the top of her boots, and she’d put on gloves, wrapped a red scarf around her neck, and donned a red headband to keep her ears warm. But the modifications were certainly sparse compared to her companions.
And Erika was indignant. “You promised your mother you’d dress appropriately for the climate!” she said, hands balled into fists, an uncommon glare flashing in her eyes.
Tsubasa shrugged. “She and I disagree on the definition of ‘appropriate’ in Fuyuo’s climate,” she said. “I made sure to keep my toes and fingers warm! They’re extra sensitive to the cold. And my ears! I know what I need, and I made adjustments for that. It’s basically summer in Fujitoshi right now. Nowhere near cold enough for me to bundle up.”
“Then why are we bundled up?” Erika asked.
“Because you’re not used to Fuyuo,” Tsubasa said. “Her summers are still colder than most winters in Albia. Don’t worry, you guys are set. And stop glaring at me! I know what I need, and I made sure to make adjustments accordingly. Everybody’s different — and every body’s different. I just happen to be extra warm-blooded.”
“Your family did suggest as much,” Enrique said.
“See? They know I can handle it.” Tsubasa grinned triumphantly. Erika sighed, but let the matter drop. She and Enrique decided to remove their hats and mittens for now, and the four who had undergone complete wardrobe changes unbuttoned their coats until they reached their destination. It wasn’t overly warm on the ship, which meant they weren’t uncomfortable even dressed as they were.
The announcement came over the intercom that they were approaching the Veil, and passage would occur in fifteen minutes. Passengers were invited to the main stage to view the event, and any passengers at risk of motion sickness were encouraged to only watch from the main stage at the front of the ship, and sit in place with their seatbelts firmly buckled to mitigate adverse effects.
“Do you want to sit down?” Erika asked her brother.
“No,” Enrique said, his gaze fixed resolutely forward. “I’ll be okay.”
“You guys have handled Intersections and doors between realms just fine,” Tsubasa said. “This should be a cinch.”
They all stood for the event, watching with bated breath. A countdown began, counting down from thirty. When it reached ten, a shimmering could be seen in the air in front of the ship. Subtle at first, little faint ripples of pale gold, but when the countdown reached five, there was a sudden burst of light, and a great shining wall filled the sky before them, rippling with gold and green, scarlet and cerulean.
The Symphonic Dream reached the Veil, and light enveloped the ship. Roland swayed slightly, feeling something akin to the disorientation of passing through a door between realms, but far less intense. The light raced through the ship — it wasn’t just outside, but within, currents of light and color passing over and under and around Roland’s body. A slender current of cerulean brushed against his face, and Roland felt a brisk, refreshing air rush through his body, the herald of winter.
“My crystal!” Erika cried, pulling her golden, feather-shaped crystal out from under her shirt. At the end of its chain it was aglow, shimmering with light.
“Mine, too,” Enrique said, pulling out his glowing twin crystal. Roland heard a faint song in the air, a distant melody he couldn’t quite make out. Before he had the chance to listen to it further…
The light faded. The twins’ crystals stopped glowing, too, and the song was gone. The Symphonic Dream emerged into a new world, one awash with morning light. A vast blue sky spread overhead and all around, while below them was a blanket of white clouds, like hills of snow floating in the air.
“It’s… morning,” Erika said, gaping.
“Time zones,” Tsubasa said. “Kisetsuryuu-En is almost fourteen hours ahead of us. It’s a new day for them already — and now for us.” She smiled, her green eyes bright with anticipation as they watched the clouds below.
The ship began a descent, the captain announcing their arrival at Fujitoshi Air Station in one hour, encouraging all passengers to be buckled in safely within thirty minutes for the final landing. Some passengers started to take their seats already, but Tsubasa didn’t sit just yet, so Roland, Muirrach, and the twins stood with her at the front, watching the clouds.
“Here it comes,” Tsubasa said, in a whisper Roland barely heard.
There was a sparkle of sunlight, and then the clouds parted, as if inviting the Symphonic Dream and her passengers into this new world with open arms. And with the parting of the clouds came a gasp that rippled through a captive audience.
Below them was not the endless verdant fields of the Cyril Republic, but a great ocean, glittering in the sunlight, extending out in all directions towards endless horizons wherever one looked. The only land in these endless waters was a sprawling archipelago, a scattering of islands great and small, dramatic in their landscapes and color. Great mountains jutted up from foundations that looked too small to support such powerful ranges. Thick forests coated parts of islands in mysterious wonder. And what a painterly vision of color! They faced south, so the nearest and largest island, the northmost of them all, sparkled with white snowfields and glittering blue icy lakes, amidst cities built into the rising, falling, impressive terrain. Beyond that were other snowy and icy islands, which then changed to the next region, marked by a sudden change of colors. From snow-white to brilliant green, from ice to grass and not just green, but so many colors! Flowers, flowers blooming in such dense multitudes that even from miles up in the sky one could see the painter’s palette in full array. Then beyond the verdant, flowery fields was a summery sprawl of islands that sang with a tropical song, beckoning visitors to deep blue lagoons, long dazzling beaches, and hidden alcoves in a dense network of tiny rocky islands. And finally, at the southern end of the archipelago, was a feast for those who longed for autumn, the reds, oranges, and golds of change dancing in the distant trees, shading great castles and reaching up towards mysterious towers.
“It looks like a dragon,” Enrique said softly, gazing at the vast sprawl of islands. And as Roland looked, he realized what Enrique was seeing. The wintry islands of Fuyuo formed a shape reminiscent of a dragon’s great head and sharp fangs. The spring and summer of Haruo and Natsuo were the spine of the dragon, and its many wings, serpentine, winding towards the flared sweep of its golden tail in the autumnal sprawl of Akiyo.
“Like a constellation in the ocean, instead of the sky,” Erika said.
“Not just one dragon,” Muirrach said.
“I was hoping someone would notice!” Tsubasa said, grinning. “Nice eyes.”
“Not just one…?” Enrique started. “Oh!”
“Oh!” Erika cried. “I see it, too!”
And Roland saw it, then, as well. Each of the four regions, when one looked at them just right, looked like a constellation making up their own individual dragon. Yet, when taken together, the four dragon-constellations formed one greater dragon.
The call came for all passengers to please buckle in for the final landing process. Roland and company took their seats, and watched as the startling world below them came closer and closer. Soon their view was being swallowed up by the largest island of Fuyuo, its jagged mountain peaks and startling valleys ringing a flatter inner terrain, hilly country housing a dense metropolis, with small farmland on the higher hills.
But when the captain announced their soon arrival at Fujitoshi Air Station, and the ship turned to port, revealing a strange structure that looked almost as if it were flying under its own power. No balloons held up the great metallic ring amidst the mountain peaks, nor were propellers humming to keep it in the sky. In fact, it had long steel cables anchoring it to the ground far below, which only emphasized the lack of any clear flight mechanism.
“A gravitational mirror,” Tsubasa said when Enrique asked about it. “It’s a complex crafting done with many layers of Elysian script centuries ago. The ring flies because of the magicks worked upon it, and the cables keep it from, well… flying away. Just you wait until we’re there. You’ll see — and hear — what I’m talking about in more detail.”
The Symphonic Dream came in directly over the top of the flying ring, and slowly descended straight down until it nearly touched the top of the ring. Seeing it now up-close through the main window, Roland was amazed at the scale of the Air Station. The ring itself must be a dozen stories tall, and nearly a mile in diameter. Constructed of metal and glass, flying under its own power… it was awe-inspiring.
“Did airships exist centuries ago?” Enrique asked, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
“Nope,” Tsubasa said. “The first hot-air propulsion methods weren’t developed until, what?” She looked at Roland. “1254?”
“That was the first crewed flight,” Roland said. “The theory was first tested and proven in 1252.”
“Oh, right!” Tsubasa said. “Yeah. Either way, a good two hundred years ago. And it was still almost another full century before we had airships. And nothing as grand as the Symphonic Dream and other long-range luxury liners until just a few years before I was born.”
“But the ring was magicked long before any of that,” Enrique said.
“Right,” Tsubasa said.
“Why?” Enrique asked. “If there was no air travel, and this is an air station… why would its existence predate air travel by centuries?”
Tsubasa shrugged. “Heck if I know,” she said. “Oh, it’s time!” There was the distant hiss of the airlock being unsealed, and then the captain thanked passengers and crew for a pleasant flight, and provided disembarking instructions for those who were leaving, while then going over the schedule for those who were remaining aboard to travel further. Roland and company exited their seats, buttoned up their coats, and donned hats and mittens. When they got to the gate, Tsubasa pulled her scarf up over her nose and mouth, and encouraged the others do the same. “Your face will get a real shock if you’re not used to this. This high up, even I’m not used to it. I don’t think anybody gets used to it. But don’t worry — it’s warmer in the station.”
They approached the exit, raising scarves up over noses and mouths just in time for a blast of biting, icy wind to knife at them through the opening. Roland shuddered, his spine stiffening at the harsh, sudden change in climate. He stepped out onto the boarding ramp and gaped in awe at the sight. They were among the mountain peaks, but with the Air Station suspended in the air as it was, it still felt like they were flying, not truly grounded yet. It was amazing to see Fujitoshi beyond just a window, too, with the city sprawling far below. The sky overhead was clear, but there was snow dancing in the biting winds, likely carried from the mountain peaks around them.
Roland started on down the ramp, before the rest of his muscles stiffened too much from the cold. The air was thin up here, too, and he found it was more of an effort just to take a full breath. Behind him, his companions and other passengers were silent, all braced against the overpowering winds and bitter cold.
Thankfully, the boarding ramp led straight to an open doorway into the Station proper. And it only took a few steps inside the corridor for relief to find Roland. It was still cold — but that was to be expected. The harsh winds, the thin air, the intense freeze… those dissipated, thankfully.
“Oh my g-g-gosh,” Erika said, shivering rapidly. “That was w-worse than I expected, and I was r-ready for the worst.” She hugged Enrique for warmth, and he pulled her in close.
“But it’s all over now,” Tsubasa said happily, pulling her scarf down from her face. “Now, then.” She pulled a watch from her pocket, checked it, and sighed. “I’d love to be a tour guide, but we’re running short on time. The Air Station is fascinating, and the many places we can go from here are, too. But we should go straight to Kuraoka Shrine.”
“I’ve been wondering,” Enrique said, rubbing his sister’s back and arms to warm her up, “how do we get down from here to the city?”
Tsubasa grinned, a glitter in her bright green eyes. “Let me show you.”
They navigated a bustle of crowds, on a whirlwind walk through all sorts of fascinating sights, numerous vendors and exhibits and entertainment, along with glimpses of the Elysian script along the inner walls that provided the magic of this ring. But they didn’t have time for any of that. Tsubasa brought them to an open waiting area with a sign overhead with text in Kisetsugo, so no one but Tsubasa could read it. When asked by Erika, Tsubasa said, “It just tells you where we’re going.”
“But how?” Enrique asked, growing antsy.
“By air car, of course!” Tsubasa said. She gestured to the side, across the waiting area, to a booth manned by an attendant, and a gate beyond that led into what looked like an oversized train car, more square than rectangular, and roomier for passengers to sit or stand on all sides. Enrique ran to the window to get a view of what it was and where things were going, and the others joined him to see that, along with the massive cables that tethered Fujitoshi Air Station to the ground far, far below, there were also much slimmer cables, hard to see from the air, that were ferrying these “air cars” to and from the surface.
“This cable takes us to the shrine landing,” Tsubasa said, taking great delight in Erika and Enrique’s awed amazement. “There are tons of different cables, each carrying air cars to different parts of the city. Gosh, I wish I could show you the potato farms — you haven’t eaten potatoes until you’ve had Fujitoshi potatoes or sweet potatoes — or the mountain village, or Ikaruga Park… but we can check out the sights after we’ve seen your parents. You ready?”
This brought the twins’ attention firmly back to Tsubasa. “How… soon?” Erika asked in a hushed voice.
“If the seventy-three hours is exact, then we’ve got just about an hour,” Tsubasa said. “And it’ll take us almost that long just to get to the shrine. So?” She smiled at Erika. “Shall we?”
Erika closed her eyes, and took in a deep breath. She held it for a moment, let it out slowly, then opened her eyes. She looked at Tsubasa, and nodded resolutely. “We shall.”
They boarded the air car — there were no fees involved, as all entering or leaving Fujitoshi Air Station had already paid air fare just to be there — and after a few moments, the full metal box started descending along a slender metal cable, with nothing else holding it aloft, nothing else preventing it from plummeting a dizzying distance to the ground so very, very far below.
“It’s perfectly safe,” Tsubasa said, watching Enrique tense up. “There have been precisely zero air car accidents since the technology was put into use. It’s never gone wrong before. Why would it start now?”
“Somehow, phrasing it that way isn’t reassuring,” Enrique said. This time, it was his turn to lean into his sister for comfort, which she gladly provided.
Meanwhile, Roland watched out the window. Mountains passed around them, and he spotted what might be the mountain village Tsubasa had mentioned, a lovely and undoubtedly robust community of people who had built their houses into the side of a sheer cliff face, finding the perfect space to have natural walkways and alcoves to allow for life on the side of the mountain without disturbing the mountain itself. To the other side, he saw, to his amazement, farmers on a high plateau digging up potatoes from underneath a blanket of snow.
“They’re no ordinary potatoes, I’ll tell you that,” Tsubasa said. “The greatest crops thrive in the harshest climes, Grand-da always says. We’ll make sure you get some of the best dishes before we leave.”
And down below, the city was a fascinating, dense metropolis, making the most of every inch of land provided on this island. It was also startlingly eclectic. Much of Albian cities were laid out with at least some level of uniformity, or structure, thanks to various different but fundamentally similar zoning laws across the many nations. But here, there seemed to be no zoning laws at all. He spotted a towering modern office building right beside a trio of small, one-story, traditionally-styled stores, and just down the block from those was an architectural experiment still standing thanks to no small amount of exceptional luck, its bowl-shaped main structure that people seemed to actually work in held up only by three slender metal struts. On and on the strangeness went — Roland had never seen a two-story family home sandwiched between a luxury restaurant and a traditional Fuyuo kabuki theater, until today. Small local shrines brushed against large grocery stores, which in turn bordered elementary schools, and on and on the lack of structure and uniformity went.
But they grew close to the ground, and their destination became apparent. Partway up the largest mountain of the island sat a grand shrine, its sprawling complex strangely familiar, until Roland remembered — he’d seen a glimpse of that exact place in Aîrchal. Erika gasped and urged Enrique to look, pointing, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. What she was so excited about was the incredible stone staircase, hundreds of stairs long and tall, flanked on either side by the greatest dose of color on the entire island: an entire forest of wisteria trees in full bloom.
“Pretty amazing, huh?” Tsubasa asked, beaming. There was something slightly conflicted in her expression, Roland thought — but then it passed, as soon as he saw it.
The car reached the landing, and they disembarked into a decidedly less harsh environment. No blasts of thin, frozen air knifed at them in a sudden fury. But it was still definitely a land of eternal winter, and Erika and Enrique both opted to lift their scarves back up over their noses and mouths — and Muirrach did, as well. Roland kept his scarf down, though he was grateful for his warm hat, and even with excellent gloves, he shoved his hands in his coat pockets to maintain their warmth.
There were plenty of crowds bustling about the landing, a wide stone plaza with numerous places to make offerings to the Dragon Deva, Fujiryuu. A pedestal near the center was constantly burning incense, its spicy fragrance wafting to Roland’s nose. Many shrine-goers came up to the incense smoke and used their hands almost as if to scoop some of the fumes onto their face, breathing deep before moving on. Farther on, near the stairs and the first of many towering red shrine gates, was a steaming foot bath, no doubt fed by an underground hot spring. Many were washing their feet, and anyone who went on to walk the stairs up to the shrine itself paused here to take water from a font and wash their hands first.
“Again, I’d love to play tour guide,” Tsubasa said, with a resigned sigh. “But we’ve gotta get moving.”
“Right,” Erika and Enrique said, nodding firmly. They all crossed the plaza, pausing at the font to cleanse their hands with the purifying waters.
Then they climbed.
Up the stairs, beneath gate after towering gate, flanked on either side by wisteria trees, it was a serene, contemplative ascent. There were others around them, either climbing to the shrine or descending from it, and yet all seemed to be solitary. In their own thoughts, their own meditations, they continued on.
Erika and Enrique slowed at the halfway point, and no one pointed it out. The adults slowed with them, and they continued to climb. There was an eagerness in the twins’ faces and bearings… but also worry. Uncertainty. Anxiety.
What would they find, meeting their parents again for the first time in three years? What answers would they be able to gain to so many burning questions? Would they even be able to ask those questions, when overwhelmed by the moment?
Roland glanced at Tsubasa, and at Muirrach. They all shared the same glance, the same quick, shared understanding.
We are here to support them. We won’t let the questions go unasked, nor unanswered. They may not be our children, but we have become their guardians, and we will not let them down.
Time slipped away, uncountable during the ascent. The serenity of the space, the beauty of it, the quietude, turned thoughts away from tracking time, from any logistical concerns. There was just the climb, and their silent thoughts, and the anticipation of what lay ahead.
Then they reached the top. The space opened up, and before them was the great shrine, a massive estate that also housed the shrine itself deep within. Wisteria trees bloomed all around the perimeter, taller than any Roland had seen before, their great boughs reaching out over the estate to shade it in pristine beauty.
Tsubasa opened her mouth to say something, but then a young woman’s voice from the estate made her pause. “Tsubasa-chan?”
Tsubasa turned, and saw a young woman, the same age as Tsubasa, whose bright green eyes were so much like Tsubasa’s it was obvious they were family. “Nagisa-chan?” Tsubasa asked, her whole face lighting up. She ran to meet the girl, and the girl ran to meet her, and they embraced tightly, laughing and beaming in this reunion.
When they let each other go, there was a conversation in Kisetsugo, full of big smiles and what seemed like inside jokes, judging by their body language and laughter. Then Tsubasa turned, an arm across Nagisa’s shoulders, and introduced her to the others. “This is Nagisa, my cousin and best friend in the whole world!” she said. “She’s a maiden of Kuraoka Shrine, and she’ll show us where to wait for your parents. She knows just the place.” She said something to Nagisa in Kisetsugo, and Nagisa responded, and Tsubasa nodded. “Right, then. Let’s go, everyone!”
Into the estate they went. Shoes were removed in the entrance hall, but despite many parts of the estate being open to the wintry air, warm socks and what Roland suspected were subtly heated floors meant that feet didn’t get cold.
They took a few turns, and Roland realized where they were going. The place he and the others had seen in Aîrchal, the central courtyard, in which bloomed a great wisteria tree. Seeing it here, in person, for real rather than constructed from a memory, gave him a sudden, startling sense of peace. Like this was a place where nothing could go wrong. Where harmony reigned, questions were answered, relationships made right, and direction given to travelers longing for guidance.
Nagisa spoke, and Tsubasa translated. “Your parents will appear right here, at the base of the tree, in, well… moments. Any second now, actually. And while Nagisa and her grand-da have a lot of questions for them, too, and they need to meet with Fujiryuu…” Tsubasa smiled at the twins. “You guys get to talk to them first, of course. That’s what’s most important.”
And so they waited, with bated breath. Every second felt like an eternity, when any second could be the moment the parents arrived, when all anyone could do was wait.
And then, suddenly, the air at the base of the tree… tore. Like someone had taken hold of air, of empty space, and ripped through it with a knife, reality split apart, and through the gap emerged Alfred and Isadora, the long-awaited parents of Erika and Enrique.
The tear snapped shut behind them, like the unsettling event had never even happened. Alfred and Isadora looked disoriented, swaying on their feet, gasping for breath. Slowly, they took hold of each other, and looked around, blinking swiftly, getting their bearings.
“They were right,” Alfred said, and a slow smile crept across his lips. “They figured out what we couldn’t. We’re here, right on time!”
“Finally,” Isadora said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Answers at last. If there’s any hope to set this right —”
“Mother?” Erika asked in a small voice. “Father?”
The parents stared at each other. Slowly, they turned. And, even when they saw their children, there was a moment of silence, of confusion. As if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Then Isadora saw Roland, Muirrach, and Tsubasa, and looked at her children once more. Tears glistened in her eyes, and she let out a stifled sob. “Oh, my darlings,” she said softly. She knelt, then, and held out her arms, and the twins ran to her. Brother and sister raced into their mother’s embrace, and she hugged them tight, as if she never wanted to let them go ever again. Erika sobbed, and then started crying, and her mother joined in the tears. Enrique was silent, but held them both tight.
“You’re here,” Alfred said, staring. And then, slowly, he came to join them, kneeling down and embracing his family.
Tsubasa smiled, resting a hand on her hip. “Well, there’s a good start,” she said. “Let’s let them hug it out for a minute.”
“Yes, let’s,” said a voice, a voice that sent a chill down Roland’s spine. A little girl’s voice, but filled with a malice and mischief beyond any child’s.
Roland looked around, trying to pinpoint the source. Then he heard her voice again, taunting. “Yoo-hoo, up here!”
He, Tsubasa, Muirrach, and the twins all looked up into the boughs of the wisteria tree, and saw her sitting on a branch, clad in nothing but a black dress in this wintry weather.
Lacie smiled at them, eyes alight with mirth. “Isn’t this touching?” she asked. “I love a good family reunion.”