The sun over Roland shone brighter than in any other threshold Althea had visited. Its light scattered across the polished stone of the Travel District, where towering gates and floating terminals pulsed with runic energy. Streams of travelers—merchant caravans, scholars, soldiers, even masked figures with unknown purposes—moved through the bustling plaza.
Althea adjusted the strap of her satchel as she tried to keep up with Keal and Lyssa. Her heartbeat hadn’t slowed since the escape in Valerian Woods. Even surrounded by crowds, she felt eyes on them. Watching. Waiting.
Lyssa’s fingers brushed against the hilt of her dagger. “Too many people,” she muttered. “Perfect place for something—or someone—to blend in.”
Keal glanced back at them, scanning the chaos with a veteran’s sharp eye.
“We won’t be here long. The ship leaves in ten minutes.”
They passed beneath a massive archway engraved with Roland’s crest—a winged hourglass, symbol of mastery over time and travel. Beyond it was the heart of the Travel District: enormous floating docks suspended in the air by gravity fields and ancient magic.
Althea stopped for a moment, staring.
There were vessels of all shapes:
— sleek silver skystreamers designed for speed
— massive cargo leviathans held aloft by shimmering anchors
— smaller airskiffs that darted between them like birds
— and at the highest dock, the ship Keal was leading them toward
It was unlike anything she’d ever seen.
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A hybrid craft—part aircraft, part astral ship—its hull shaped as if carved from midnight steel. Iridescent energy veins glowed faintly along its sides, and the sails were made of woven light.
Lyssa whistled low. “The Starlance. I didn’t think we’d be traveling on something this… expensive.”
Keal answered, “We aren’t paying for it.”
Althea blinked. “Wait—then how—”
“Roland owes me favors,” Keal said simply.
That sounded like something he definitely wasn’t going to explain.
They climbed the ramp as dockhands moved around them, securing crates and adjusting bindings. The air felt cooler up here, thinner, touched by the altitude and the hum of the ship’s arcane engines.
Althea paused at the top of the ramp. From here, the entire district stretched out below—people, lights, movement, and noise blending into a familiar but chaotic dance.
For a moment, she let herself breathe.
Then Lyssa nudged her. “Don’t get too comfortable. Netheron isn’t exactly welcoming.”
Keal added, “We’re not sightseeing. Netheron is dangerous even for its own citizens.”
Althea swallowed, feeling the weight of their warnings.
“What exactly are we going there for again?” she asked, even though she already knew.
Keal turned to face them both, lowering his voice.
“Because the corruption we’re tracking—the one manipulating the scout—didn’t start in Valerian Woods. It started deeper. Netheron has records Roland doesn’t. Old ones. Forbidden ones.”
Lyssa crossed her arms. “And if someone is tampering with scouts from the shadows, Netheron might be the first place they left traces.”
The deck rumbled as the ship prepared for departure. Dock stabilizers unlocked with a thunderous click.
Keal motioned them inside. “Let’s go. Once we’re airborne, stay alert. We don’t know who else is watching these routes.”
Althea stepped onto the ship’s interior walkway, the hum of its core vibrating faintly beneath her feet. The doors slid shut behind them, sealing away the noise of the district.
A voice echoed from the ship’s comm crystal:
“Starlance departing Roland. Next stop: Netheron.”
The floor shifted as the vessel lifted into the sky.
Althea gripped the railing, heart pounding.
A new world awaited them.
And maybe… new dangers too.

