Brandon Biney

Scions of the Sky

Novel extract

Chapter Four

Standing outside the famous Atelier Skalla, Simon found he was of two minds. He didn’t even know what was suddenly coming over him, but he couldn’t help but wonder, what am I doing? After the conversation with Fran in the workshop her sincerity had made cracks begin to show in his faith. And questions – questions for himself. Where or just what are his ties to Alm? That he refuses to step on an airship? That sounds more like an ambivalence towards his home than respect. Fran’s words towards him had burrowed deep, destabilizing the seemingly ironclad equilibrium Simon had been balancing on for the last few years. The nobles may have treated him with some derision as a man not originally of the empire, but they still upheld their code of recognizing him as one of their own. 

Whatever the empire has been, there are unbreakable rules that they hold fast to. Simon is an imperial noble – he’s safe, or everything he thought he knew was wrong. 

Outside the Atelier in early afternoon, Simon tried to reassure himself, smoothing down his imperial House Steiner coat. Looking to the sky for comfort, he was greeted once again by the sight of airships floating in the brisk air. One of them was an artisanal model no doubt of the Atelier, this one in the image of a chimeric red and gold lion’s head, based on the mythical beast Leorina, a fearsome winged big cat. In light of that, the airship’s bristling mane formed into four iridescent insectoid wings on the sides of the ship. But there was another dark ship, a large, striking behemoth with six great stygian wings and a large gold horn on the front, coming towards the airship houses from the eastern district of commerce, and quickly. More than that, there was smoke in the distance, accompanied by a siren the likes of which Simon had never heard before, the whole scene raising the onyx hairs on the back of his neck. Simon immediately turned back towards the Atelier, but there was no movement from the workshop. Besides the approaching rogue airship, it was as if everything had frozen in place. Everyone in the square were transfixed on the spectacle in the distance. 

Suddenly the airship began to open fire from two large black cannons, its shimmering rounds razing the ground as it flew, breaking the spell, and catching some of the commercial airships with its stray fire, the ones that could, quickly fleeing the scene. As it neared Simon he attempted to roll out of the way and narrowly avoided the airship’s salvo as it flew over, but the shockwaves left in its wake threw him backward, careening straight into a manicured tree at his back that bent under the weight of impact. For a moment he was unresponsive, then as if through pure willpower, he came to, awakening to the queer smell of laser burns that melted through the ground that had been struck, and Gods knows what else. 

Rubbing his sore back, Simon clambered to the ground. Quickly getting to his feet, Simon fell to his knees in pain. His left leg had been burned, but he willed himself to get up through the pain, as adrenaline filled him. 

Simon’s eyes darted in every direction, and he then noticed that the leonine airship had risen high in the air, no doubt to evade the fire of the black airship and draw its salvo away from the citizens. Below was chaos and screams, as people scrambled to find safety. But that wasn’t Simon’s focus. Some people were hit by what appeared to be particle fire. As they writhed on the ground, Simon gasped, clutching his chest. The world around him fizzled out of view, and suddenly he was in Alm, at an airship house. Corpses surrounded him, but he was essentially untouched, if a bit shaken. The bombarded hall smelled of smoke, smoldering equipment, and the unmistakable scent of blood. Then there was a voice that had been burned into Simon’s mind since that day. 

 “An engineer survived, eh? This might be your lucky day. We can find use for you.” 

Simon then saw a vision of his partner Madeleine, her hand outstretched, and the world began to come into focus again. The square was deserted, aside from the bodies on the floor. Once airborne now grounded airships had been abandoned, their passengers fled. Simon heard a groan nearby. Looking eastward there was a young woman in a lilac purple frilled House Griever coat on the ground. Slapping his cheeks, Simon immediately limped to her aid. 

 “Miss, can you hear me? I’m going to take you into the Atelier, just hold on.” 

She moaned in response, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her arm is badly burned, the force of the impact from the positron beam may have done some internal damage. She needs help, and soon! Raising her left arm over his shoulder, Simon picked her up and made his way toward the Atelier. As he moved, he heard another voice, from a man he thought was dead. 

“Please… Someone, help me.” 

Gritting his teeth half in pain and half in grief, Simon said nothing, continuing on as the man raised his hand to him, before it fell by his side. Simon looked back briefly, then above him. High in the sky were the two airships engaged in a tense dogfight. The leonine airship was nimble, but it was unarmed, and it was only a matter of time before it was to be struck down. As the behemoth black airship let loose another salvo of violet positron fire, the leonine airship maneuvered right, then weaved south in an arc so that it found itself behind the black airship, masterfully displaying its state-of-the-art capabilities and the skills of its pilot. Before the black airship could react, it was immediately rammed from behind with great force, but the victory was pyrrhic – the obsidian mounted guns swiveled around to face behind the airship and fired at point blank, blasting through the leonine airship. As it began to fall from the sky like a meteor from the heavens, Simon saw a few passengers dropping from the escape hatch of the airship at a low gravity, no doubt wearing anodite belts developed in Alm. Simon breathed a sigh of relief seeing that they weren’t hit. But that wasn’t all, and Simon had reason to hold his breath again – one last person leapt from an escape hatch in the front armed with a vibrating longsword. With vigor they dove the weapon into the back of the black airship, tearing a sizeable crack into its hull in their descent before they stopped at the lower end. 

The valiant hero with a powerful upward motion pulled their weapon free and activated their anodite belt as they fell, joining their crew below. The black airship ascended further into the skies, but did not leave the scene. A low drone filled the air as the smoldering leonine airship began its slow descent, and as it crashed to the ground with a shuddering creak, purple flames broke out, though that was well after the passengers had touched down and began to enter the Atelier with their key cards. Simon called out to them to wait, but they didn’t answer and quickly shuffled inside. Simon banged on the front door. 

“Help! Please! We need shelter! I have a badly injured woman who requires attention,” to no response. Simon was dumbfounded. “Please! Gilford!” he took a moment, then continued. “Fran!” but there was again no response. “There’s a downed airship on fire!” But it was as if there was no one inside. Abandoned, Simon looked for another place to seek shelter, moving towards one of the House Griever warehouses. Lowering the Griever woman down, he checked her pulse, when she opened her eyes.  “I-I’m fine. Thank you, stranger.” 

Simon put on a brave face and smiled. “Don’t mention it. We’ll find shelter in a moment, just hold on. I’m sure the Griever factories won’t refuse nobles, let alone one of their own.” 

“Please, hurry,” the woman said, before closing her eyes.  

Simon said nothing, but his face was now grim. Putting her arm over his shoulder again, Simon winced under the weight of the woman, but was resolute. He ambled towards the northwest factory, away from the burning airship that served as a reminder what the rogue airship was capable of. The airship in question, which had been listing in the air suddenly began to move with uncommon precision. Diving from above it barreled around, and now floated closely above Simon and the woman at their backs. Turning around, he froze, and for a while, the airship didn’t move either, save for the weaponry training itself on Simon. Now in full view, Simon could see that the black airship was in the form of a nautical ship with four steering wings, decked out with positron weaponry. Its two obsidian cylindrical guns were opened on the sides, revealing glowing purple live ammunition, a trademark of positron armaments. One thing was certain, this kind of weaponry was not commonly seen in the empire – it was outlawed. The ship also brandished a flag with what appeared to be the martial version of the Almaian flag as well as an unknown, jagged “X” like insignia with a cyan eye in the center. 

The front cameras and weapons of the ship were focused on Simon, and he waited for the end to come, but it did not. After a long moment, there was a mechanical clunk, and the weapons folded into the ship’s hull. As quickly as it came, it then sped off into the distance, leaving only its devastation behind. Simon was unsure why he was alive, but was rattled to his core, fighting back memories of a similar event. Instead, he set his mind on why he was left alive, again. He was in imperial regalia – why didn’t the rogue airship shoot? Before he could give it much more thought, there was the sound of an alarm, and people flooded out from the airship houses and factories. Fran was at the forefront in her goggles carrying a heavy-duty hose as she doused the fallen leonine airship, the iridescent membrane on its wings having burned away. The Griever workers were a mix of chatter and orders being shouted across the square, then Simon saw Gilford, who came out from behind Fran, walking briskly forward towards Simon with a pained expression on his brown face. 

 “Simon, are you all right? What is going on?” 

“First thing’s first: this lady needs emergency care, Gilford.” 

Gilford’s face was steely. “Of course,” Gilford quickly called out to the growing crowd outside. “I need a medic or two. We have an emergency here, please take care of this woman.” 

Immediately a man dressed in a flowing light green robe with a veil approached and took the woman’s arm, leading her into the Atelier. Other similarly dressed medics were seeing to the other injured that could be saved, while the workers from the airship warehouses and factories were checking their own airships for damage, as the higher-ups briefed and directed them. Some joined Fran in dousing the fire. After an assault like what had taken place, the rivalries between airship houses had vanished, if briefly. Gilford faced Simon. 

 “So, do you want to tell me what’s gone awry?” 

“There was an armed ship, Gods knows what it did in the city! It attacked me, but I managed to get out unscathed.” 

“I-I see. wanted to come out and warn you about an unknown signal we detected on our sonar, but the matron ordered everyone to stay inside. I feel like I’ve betrayed you, Simon.” 

Simon looked away, catching glimpses of citizens who likely wouldn’t make it.  

“You were only following the orders of your superior, Gilford…!” 

 “No. Next time something like this happens, I’ll be by your side if I can manage it. That’s a promise.” 

Simon smiled but didn’t reply. Gilford ran his eyes over Simon, his gaze stopping at the lower half of his regalia.  

“Hold on, it looks like you’ve burned your coat, Simon.” 

Taking a moment to observe it, Simon confirmed that the particle fire had ripped through the lower half of his House Steiner garment. Somehow with all that happened having the physical manifestation of his pride singed didn’t bother him much. 

“You’re right. But that’s not the worst of it. I was thrown back in the blast of the positron fire and I think I’ve got burns too.” 

Gilford’s face paled, as he stroked the long scar on his face. “I thought you said you were unharmed! Medic!” 

 “Don’t worry about me. I have a knack for staying alive. It’s better you focus your efforts on those more seriously injured. I’ll seek medical assistance once I get home.”

Gilford waved off another medic with a furrowed brow.  

“If you say so, Simon. Let me fly you back. It’s no use going all that way banged up like you are.” 

 “Gilford. I’ll be fine. I do appreciate your promise though. You can walk me home if you’re up for it. It’ll be a bit different from the usual, eh?” 

Gilford smiled. “Aye.” 

The two men then eyed Fran, who had just finished hosing down the tattered leonine airship. 

“Retrieval team, confirm what the damage is and ascertain if the Red Pride can be repaired. If not, then salvage what you can. We’ll dispose of the rest. Go on, she doesn’t look too beat up – and don’t forget your masks! When you’re done with the pride help the other Houses with their search for survivors and repair efforts.” “Sir!” replied the team. 

One other raven-haired woman came to her from the crowd, dressed similarly to Fran, in identical goggles and an anodite belt. 

“Matron, apologies for my lapse in piloting, I couldn’t take down the enemy ship.” 

Fran laughed. “Lapse? I had an eye on the sky, and I could see that your maneuvering was top class. The way you spun behind the rogue ship even imperial soldiers would be hard pressed to execute such a gambit. Be proud, Rin,” Fran tousled her raven black hair, and Rin blushed. 

 “Thank you, mother… I-I mean Fran.” 

“And on that matter, your attempt to damage the ship with a progressive blade was awe inspiring, if dangerous. We can talk about that later though,” Fran exhaled. “Go home, though not before you decouple the belt. I’ll be staying late dealing with the aftermath of this situation, but I’ll see you soon, cherub,” said Fran, waving Rin off. 

Fran then took a moment to observe the small, charred craters left in the black airship’s fire. She turned to Simon and Gilford, taking off her goggles and tossing them in hand.  

“Now that was just overkill. Particle weaponry? Good grief. Simon, count your lucky stars you’re in better condition than the central building of foreign affairs,” despite her words of levity her face was a picture of worry. 

Simon ran a hand through his curls. “Things might have been worse if it wasn’t for that red airship. Was that the pilot? She was incredible.” 

Why yes, that was her. She’s like my own flesh and blood that one,” said Fran. 

“You must be proud. Though putting that aside for a moment, do you have any idea what’s going on?” 

Fran paced forward, clenching her goggles in hand.  

“This is on a need-to-know basis, but word on clandestine radio channels is pirates somehow breached imperial defenses and launched an assault in the eastern wing, damaging the central building. Casualties are undisclosed, but this whole debacle is clearly a first.” 

“Pirates? Here? I did see an unusual flag on the ship. It had a green eye alongside the Almaian flag.” 

Eyeing Simon, Fran continued. “I see you got a better look at the ship than I did from in the workshop. An Almaian flag with a green eye, eh?” 

“Aye. It was striking. Any idea what it means?” 

Fran scratched her back absent-mindedly, returning to her seemingly unflappable persona.  

“Whatever it means, and whoever they were it’s being counted as terrorism. Count on the government to bolster security for a start. And seeing as that ship was in the eastern city, I doubt the people in power don’t have some ideas about that flag – things could heat up, even for us

Simon.” 

Simon was aghast, barely hearing what Fran said. “I can’t believe this. 

Terrorism in Iskanda, And completely unprovoked.” 

Fran sighed. “Well, it’s not like sky pirates need a reason to cause mayhem or plunder, and the empire’s made plenty of enemies. You could say it was only a matter of time.” 

“Fran…” Simon’s eyes were heavy. 

“You had better head on home, little brother. I’m sending the crew the same way once we get things cleaned up. Cherish your loved ones, 

Simon.” 

“Hold on. If you know something, I’d like to hear it, Fran.” 

Fran looked at the ground, then laughed, but it was a hollow one, her steely countenance once again giving way. 

 “You want to know what I think? This is a warning. There, take that home with you, we’re done here.” 

Gilford straightened up. “Matron, is it all right if I clock out early? Simon despite appearances isn’t in great shape and I’d like to walk him home, if that’s okay.” 

Fran waved an arm in the air. “Fine by me. See you tomorrow, Gilford.” He gently slapped Simon on the back.  

“Well then, let’s get going.” 

Simon raised the tattered lower half of his red coat, sighing. His thoughts flashed back to Madeleine.  

“Thank you, Gilford, Fran, take care.”  And with that, he took one last look towards the eastern city; the smoke was now doused, but Iskanda was far from returning to normalcy, and it may end up being difficult for some more than others. Raising Simon’s arm over his shoulder, Gilford and his charge began their journey to the Steiner mansion, the only place Simon felt he could breathe. The words cherish your loved ones rang through his mind, and though his heart felt heavy, he felt so drawn to home and Madeleine that their magnetic pull could almost take him home all on his own and lift his spirits. But a niggling thought had him fearing that the home he had found could be so unceremoniously torn asunder. He couldn’t let that happen.