Gray light seeped through heavy clouds sweeping in from the sea. Wind snapped at tarps stretched near the cliff base, rattling loose metal on patchwork huts. Waves crashed below, a heavy roar under the low growl of distant thunder. High above, the plateau stood stark; wind turbines groaned, blades straining against the gusts.
Anna slumped against jagged metal—Cloudchaser''s wreckage. The charred ruin sprawled across muddy farmland just beyond the village edge. Heat radiated faint from the twisted spars. Her leather jacket hung torn, singed. Ash streaked her red scarf, clung to her mud-caked blonde braid. Each breath scraped shallow, sending fire through her injured side. She pressed a blood-soaked rag against the pain, crimson seeping dark between her trembling fingers.
Smoke blurred shapes—villagers moving fast around the wreck, shouts lost in a high ringing sound in her ears. A tarp whipped overhead, stretched taut against spitting rain. A dented lantern swayed on a bent pole, its dim light throwing distorted shapes across the churning mud.
Kassia knelt close, pressing a battered canteen to Anna''s cracked lips. Cold water trickled in. A bitter taste—blood—coated her tongue. Kassia''s dark eyes widened at the red smear on Anna''s mouth. "Anna—look at me!" Kassia''s voice cut sharp, high, slicing the wind''s howl. She waved hard towards the figures moving in the smoke. "Healer needed—now!"
Miriam sank to her knees nearby. Her face looked pale, lines etched deep. Silver hair spilled loose across her shoulders. She shook her head slow, a continuous small motion. No healers. A radio crackled faint somewhere in the smoke, static hissing.
Jagged voices cut through the noise:
"Water—douse it! Spreading!"
"Bleeding—move!"
Flames licked orange from Cloudchaser''s twisted frame, pushing back the gray haze. Mira darted beneath the tarp, flour dusting her clothes, dark curls stuck to her damp forehead. "Got it," she said, her voice tight. Her fingers closed firm around the canteen Kassia held out. Kassia fumbled open a battered med kit. Bandages, a jar of sharp-smelling salve tumbled into the mud. Kassia scooped up paste, smeared it across a raw gash on Anna''s temple. The sharp sting pulled a thin gasp from Anna''s lips.
Vision flickered sharp—purple bruises blooming dark on her arms, blood seeping through fresh gauze on her side. A ragged sound tore from Miriam—a low sob. Her hands hovered near Anna''s still form. "My girl..." The whisper splintered thin in the air.
"Cloudchaser..." Anna rasped. The name caught, then ripped out—a guttural scream. "NO—NO—NO!" Pain ignited bright beneath her ribs. She lunged forward, palms hitting wet earth, smearing blood and mud. Dad''s hands—steady on the yoke—gone. Kassia''s arms clamped around her torso, shaking but holding tight against Anna''s thrashing. "Anna, stop—you''ll tear yourself open!"
Anna''s gaze locked on the burning metal—hull plates buckling inward, wings collapsing into embers, the cockpit a dark, empty maw. Gone. "It''s gone..." The moan broke from her, tears carving hot paths through the grime on her cheeks. Her chest shuddered hard against Kassia''s grip.
A figure stumbled through the smoke under the tarp, breathless, dropping a scorched satchel. Charred tools, splintered wood spilled out. Fragments of paper—blackened edges crumbling—drifted onto the mud. Anna''s fingers reached, touched a piece. My words. Ash disintegrated under her touch.
Kassia''s voice sliced through the haze, low, breath held tight. "Anna, who? Tell me!" Her hands gripped Anna''s chin, fingers trembling, forcing Anna''s head up. Dark eyes bored into Anna''s grayish-blue ones, wide, fixed. Anna choked, breath scraping raw. Her voice came out a fractured snarl. "That bastard... baton... spark... took it all..." His smirk burned. Heat flared behind her eyes. Cloudchaser''s propellers—humming quiet—silent now. Tears spilled hot, relentless, over her lashes, mingling with blood, mud, ash. A low sound, ragged, tore from her chest.
Beside Kassia, Miriam stood rigid. Wind tore through the tarp''s gaps, whipping silver hair across her face. Her hands hovered near Anna, fingers twitching, pale against the dim light. Her gaze fixed on the torn jacket, the blood blooming dark on Anna''s side. "Anna..." she whispered again, the sound rough, strained, breaking against the wind''s howl.
Horik stepped beneath the tarp, his broad frame a stark silhouette against the lantern''s flickering glow, mud streaking his patched jacket like a warrior''s scars. His storm-gray eyes swept over Anna, a fleeting glint of concern drowned instantly by the wildfire of her fury roaring to life. The air hung heavy with smoke and the sour stench of damp earth, pressing against Anna''s fractured ribs. Each shallow breath was a jagged shard of pain, fueling the rage smoldering beneath her torn skin.
Anna pushed herself up, palms sliding through thick mud. A sharp heat bloomed in her side, radiating outward with each strained movement. Her knees scraped against grit buried in the wet earth. Boots dug into the ground, the faint clink of her vest buckle sharp in the sudden quiet beneath the wind''s howl. Tears blurred the scene-Horik''s figure a wavering silhouette against the lantern light. She locked her eyes onto his.
"You..." Her voice came out a choked rasp, breath snagging. Tears streamed, hot tracks through the grime on her cheeks. "You let him destroy everything!" The words tore loose, followed by a choked sound, half sob, half gasp. Her body shook. She staggered forward a step, her boots slipping in the mud.
Kassia moved closer, a low sound catching in her throat. Her hands rose, hovering near Anna''s torn jacket. "Anna... you''re bleeding..." Her voice shook, the words faint against the wind. Mud splattered her boots. Her dark eyes darted between Anna and Horik. A shout cut through the wind from the tarp''s edge-"Kassia, now!"-and Kassia''s head jerked around. Her face tightened. "Hold on," she muttered, then turned, her wiry frame disappearing through the flapping canvas.
Miriam gasped, the sound sharp in the haze. Her hands flew to cover her mouth. She stepped forward, her footsteps heavy in the mud. "Anna!" The cry was thick, shuddering. Silver-streaked hair whipped across her face. "What has he done to you?" Her eyes fixed on Horik, her face twisting, lines deepening around her mouth.
Anna shoved aside the sounds, the world narrowing. Her gaze fixed on Horik. "I trusted you!" The words spat out, breath tearing ragged in the smoky air. Her fists clenched, nails biting into her palms until blood beaded warm against her skin. Tears dripped onto the mud, catching the lantern''s flicker. "If you wanted the crystal-why not just talk?" Her voice rose, higher, thinner, breaking on another choked sob.
Horik flinched, his broad shoulders hunching inward. He raised a scarred hand, palm out. "Anna," his voice was low, strained, "what are you talking about? You''re hurt..." The words stopped. His storm-gray eyes flickered, losing focus for a second before snapping back to her.
Her chest seized, each breath a sharp, stabbing intrusion. She lunged, vision swimming, and grabbed the front of his jacket. Her hands trembled. She yanked him closer, the damp fabric rough under her grip. Tears fell onto his patched sleeve. "Your companion with the scar..." she hissed, spit flying with the words, "he attacked me, Horik-just moments ago. Beat me, stole the crystal, bombed Cloudchaser, and left me to die in that storm. For what? What was it all for?" Her voice splintered, jagged sounds choked by airless sobs. Her body swayed, blood smearing bright crimson on the torn leather of her jacket.
Miriam moved to Anna''s side, her hand gripping Anna''s arm. Her other hand pointed a trembling finger at Horik. Through a rip near Anna''s ribs, a long, darkening welt showed stark against pale skin under the lantern light. "What has he done to you?" Miriam''s voice was a low growl, barely audible over the wind. Her fingers tightened on Anna''s arm.
"Companion with scar..." Horik stood stock-still. Color drained from his mud-streaked face. His storm-gray eyes widened. "Rennon?" The name came out a breath, almost soundless, brittle. His head gave a small, jerky shake. Then another. His frame seemed to collapse inward. "No," he whispered, the sound cracking. "That can''t be-Rennon wouldn''t..." His hand lifted, fingers splayed, then fell limp at his side. His gaze darted between Anna''s blood-streaked face and the shadows near the tarp''s edge.
"Wouldn''t what?" A sound ripped from Anna''s throat, sharp and grating, not quite a laugh. Tears spilled down her cheeks again. She tightened her grip on his collar. "Wouldn''t betray us? Wouldn''t destroy everything I''ve fought for?" Her voice climbed, a thin, high shriek vibrating through the damp air. "Mom, don''t stop me!" she yelled, shrugging off Miriam''s hand, her body twisting with the effort.
"Why not just talk, Horik? If you wanted the crystal so bad? Look at Cloudchaser!" She flung a trembling hand towards the wreckage beyond the tarp, where orange flames licked at blackened metal. "Look at me!" Sobs shook her frame, harsh and uneven. Tears traced clean paths through the grime coating her face.
Miriam moved closer, her silver hair wild in the wind. Her hands hovered near Anna''s bruised arms. "Anna..." she whispered again, the sound fracturing. Her gaze fixed on the blood darkening Anna''s sleeve. Her fingers twitched. Her eyes glistened.
The air under the tarp hung thick, heavy. Lantern light caught moisture, twisting shadows into wavering shapes on the damp canvas walls. Horik''s jaw muscles worked, knotting under the skin below his ear. "Anna, I swear," his voice was a low rasp, stretched thin, "I didn''t know he''d do this." The words drifted, heavy in the stillness. Wind howled outside the tarp. "It was just an airship-we can build another-"
"Just an airship?" Anna''s breath caught, a small, choked sound low in her throat. The words landed like grit scraping stone. "You Just came here...? To check?..I am dead?" Heat prickled sharp behind her eyes, a pressure building, overriding the deep ache spreading from her bandaged side. "My father''s life... My life... in that ship!" She lunged forward—a flare of white-hot sensation erupted behind her ribs—her good shoulder slammed solid against his chest. "Get away!" The impact shoved him back. His eyes widened. Boots slid with a wet squelch in the slick mud.
"Anna, stop!" Horik''s hands shot out, large fingers clamping hard onto her upper arms. Pressure bit deep into muscle. Rough jacket fabric scraped abrasive against her skin. "Calm down—you''re hurt!"
Air snagged hot, sour in her throat. The grip, the closeness—pressure built inside her head, a feeling like metal walls bending inward. "Let go!" The sound ripped raw from her throat, a strained rasp. She twisted, a violent wrenching motion against his hold. Sharp heat sliced through her side, making her gasp. She kicked out—her boot connected with his shin, a weak impact. Another gasp tore from her own lips. "Liar! You let him! Let go!" Breath tore ragged between words. Each syllable felt rough, metallic on her tongue.
The tarp flap ripped wider with a loud screech of tearing canvas. Tolvar''s broad frame filled the entrance, hazel eyes wide. Smoke curled around him from the outside drizzle hitting hot wreckage. Behind him, Kassia''s wiry form moved quick, taut. Mira followed, soot streaking her cheeks, hands clutching something dark, twisted.
"Anna," Mira rasped, voice tight, stepping into the flickering lantern light. She held out the blackened piece of metal—a gear, teeth blunted, surface scorched dull. Faint etched initials caught the dim amber glow. "Found this... wreckage. It''s his."
Air punched from Anna''s lungs. Her breath snagged. A choked sound scraped upward from her throat. Horik''s grip loosened, pressure easing. Her fingers, trembling, stretched towards the gear. Cold metal met her skin. Heat-warped grooves scraped rough against her fingertips. The shape of the initials bit sharp into her palm. A deep cold spread through her chest, leaching warmth. Edmund''s mark. His hand steady... "Fly her together..." Now this husk. Broken. Her grip tightened. Sharp metal edges dug into her flesh. Miriam made a soft sound nearby, a faint whimper. Her hand fluttered near Anna''s shoulder. Her mother''s eyes glistened bright, wet in the dim light.
Horik shifted, took a hesitant step closer. His voice scraped rough. "See? Use this, Anna.... We can build better.."
"Better?" The word was a thin whisper, shaking. It ripped loose then, a raw sound tearing the air. "You think I want better?" Her head snapped up. The cold inside her body flashed hot, sharp, burning. "I want my father back! Cloudchaser back!" A guttural cry tore from her chest. She flung the scorched gear—a wild, uncontrolled arc towards him.
The gear spun end over end through the smoky air. Horik''s arm flashed up. A dull THWACK sounded. Metal hit bone. The gear clattered, spinning into the mud near his boots. He drew a sharp breath, cradling his forearm for an instant. "Anna, stop!" His other hand shot out, fingers clamping hard onto her upper arm again. Pressure bit deep. Rough jacket fabric scraped her skin. "Calm down! You''re hurt!"
His closeness, the grip—air choked hot, sour again. "Let go!" The snarl ripped out. She twisted violent against his hold, muscles straining against the pressure. Sharp heat jolted her injured side. One arm wrenched part free. Her fist shot out—a solid THUD against the bruised side of his jaw. He recoiled, stumbled back a step, hand clapped to his jaw, eyes wide.
Near the tarp entrance, Tolvar lunged forward, sudden speed in his large frame. "Anna," a low growl, rough with strain, "you''re killing yourself!" He took another quick step towards her, boots sliding on slick mud. A wet SQUELCH sounded. His arms windmilled—his body tilted sideways—heavy THUD as he crashed down against the muddy earth.
Miriam cried out, sharp, choked, near Anna''s ear. Her hand reached, fluttered near Anna''s shoulder, then snatched back as Horik moved again.
"Anna, stop this!" Horik''s voice was rough, strained. His focus snapped back from Tolvar''s fall. He lunged forward, reaching, large hands grasping for her arms.
She wrenched backward, away from his grasp. Her hip slammed hard against the cluttered workbench near the edge of the lantern light. The impact knocked air from her lungs with a sharp oof. Her boots slid on the damp, muddy floorboards. Balance vanished. She tumbled sideways, one hand shooting out—palm hit hard, rough, splintered wood. Grit bit into her skin. Fingers closed around the object—the broken chair leg lying amidst debris. She pushed against the floor, scrambled upright, the leg clutched tight in her fist, its jagged end scraping mud.
Horik froze mid-lunge, hands still outstretched. His gaze dropped to the wood she held, then snapped back to her face. His breath hitched loud in the quiet. He backed away a step, another, hands half-raised, palms out. "Anna... wait..."
He saw her take a heavy step towards him, the leg lifting slight. He spun—boots churned frantic in the slick mud—arms flailed wild—scrambled for the tarp exit.
"You won''t..." The scream ripped raw, broken. "...get away!" Another stumbling step forward, chair leg raised high.
A guttural sound tore her lungs. Ribs felt like knives shifting sharp inside her chest. Rough wood whistled through the smoky air. The first blow split his jacket fabric, grazed his shoulder. A thin red line appeared dark against the grime. He twisted—a sharp yelp swallowed by the wind. "Coward!" she spat, swinging again, faster, a blur of motion. The second blow hit his side—dull, meaty thud. A sharp gasp punched from his chest. She raised the leg again. Miriam''s cries were distant sounds. Tolvar struggled on the ground, unseen. The third swing—wood struck the side of his head. Horik cried out, staggered back. Clamped a hand tight to his temple. Blood welled instant, dark, hot, streaking crimson through the grime on his face, matting his dark hair. He clutched his shoulder, boots sliding desperate as he stumbled for the opening.
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Tolvar lunged again from the ground. Ruddy hands clamped tight onto her right arm. The grip tightened, grinding bone. His boots squelched as he hauled her back with immense force. "Anna, stop!" he barked, the sound rough, strained against her struggles. Miriam grabbed her other arm from the side. Silver hair whipped cold across Anna''s face. Fingers dug hard into her flesh.
"Think your father, you are not—"
Pinned between them, Anna fought, writhing, muscles spasming against their hold. Sobs tore ragged from her throat, incoherent sounds spilling past her lips. "Let me go! He has to—!" The chair leg twisted in her slick grip—sweat, mud, maybe blood. Her fingers slipped loose. It spun free—an uncontrolled arc of splintered wood through the smoky haze.
It flew, turning end over end.
Near the tarp''s edge, Lia stood, small, frozen. Dark eyes wide. She clutched her patched kite, its frail fabric fluttering against her tunic. Her body quaked. Anna saw her—a shape crystallizing through the red haze—an instant stretching long.
The chair leg smashed into Lia''s outstretched hand. A brittle SNAP echoed loud. The kite''s canvas ripped wide. Its wooden frame splintered with a sharp crack, crumpling deep into the mud. Lia yelped, a thin sound slicing through the wind''s howl. She jerked back, stumbling back, clutching her hand close to her chest. A thin line of crimson welled across her knuckles, droplets spilling bright red, pat-pat-pat, onto the muddy ground beside the kite''s ruined husk. Her face tightened, lines forming around her mouth before a sob broke loose. Tears welled, spilling from wide, unfocused hazel eyes as she stared at the blood, then at the wreckage. Her small body quaked.
"No!" The sound ripped from Anna''s throat, raw, jagged. It tore past the villagers'' sharp, indrawn breaths, echoing off the damp canvas like splitting timber. The burning heat inside her snuffed out. A cold spread through her limbs, leaving them heavy. Her muscles went slack.
Miriam surged forward—"Lia!"—her voice cracking like thin ice. She reached the child in two stumbling strides, mud sucking at her boots. She scooped Lia into her arms. Tears streamed down Miriam''s face, soaking her silver-streaked hair until it clung in wet strands. She cradled Lia''s small, bleeding hand, fingers trembling as she pressed against the wound. Soft, broken sounds escaped Miriam''s lips.
Kassia stood motionless nearby. The rag she''d held dropped from slack fingers, landing with a wet thud in the mud. Its edges darkened instantly. Her wide eyes fixed first on Lia''s hand, then snapped to Anna. "Gods, Anna—what have you done?" The rasp scratched the air, breath puffing in the damp smoke.
Anna''s legs buckled underneath her. Strength drained away, replaced by a heavy looseness. She sank into the mire, the mud''s chill seeping through her trousers. Air scraped thin in her lungs, each breath shallow. She stared, eyes fixed sharp, at Lia''s tiny hand cradled in Miriam''s arms, at the red rivulets threading pale fingers, at the kite''s shattered husk splayed in the muck. The chair leg lay beside her, half-buried, its splintered wood glinting dull. "Lia..." The name was a choked whisper, swallowed by the wind. "I''m so sorry...I didn''t meant to.." Her grayish-blue eyes locked on the thin red gash. Crimson drops hit the mud. She flinched back, hand pressing hard against her bandaged side, breath snagging sharp.
Tolvar stood rooted a few feet away. Color drained from his ruddy face. His mouth hung slightly open. He stared from Lia''s hand to Anna''s crumpled form. His hazel eyes darted quick around the confined space. "She''s hurt," he stammered, the words bumping against each other. "The kite... Anna..."
A pulse of sound rippled through the crowd huddled into the tarp. Murmurs sharpened—"Too far," "She lost control," "Hit the child..."—the sounds audible in the heavy air. The wiry fisherman near the edge shook his head slow, pulling back into the shadows. His low growl was barely audible. "Gone wild..." The woman beside him clutched her wrench, knuckles white. She whispered, harsh clicks against the wind, "Can''t trust her head now. Not after this." Faces that had stared at Horik turned toward Anna, features tightening hard.
The air under the tarp grew still, damp. Smoke clung thick, mixing with the sharp smell of wet earth. Lamplight flickered across the mud, catching wet streaks on torn canvas. Lia, held tight in Miriam''s trembling embrace, looked across the small space at Anna. Tear tracks cut pale lines through the grime coating Lia''s face. Her hazel eyes stayed wide, fixed on Anna, glistening bright in the shifting light, small frame gave a low shudder. She pressed slight against Miriam''s shoulder, fingers clenching around her injured hand. A sharp, hiccupping sob broke the hush. Her chest hitched, a heavy intake of smoky air, then curled inward. Soft, keening sounds escaped her lips, thin threads piercing the stillness.
Lia''s gaze stayed on Anna. Her head trembled faint. Her eyes flickered down towards the muddy ground where the kite''s ruins lay, splinters sharp against the dark earth. Anna''s chest seized—a sharp pressure behind her ribs, cold, heavy. An image flashed behind her eyes—Lia giggling, sun warm on the plaza stones, small hands smoothing canvas—then shattered. Shreds lay in the muck. "My fault," Anna whispered, the sound a dry scrape, lost almost beneath the wind''s low sigh. She pushed herself forward, lunging past Miriam''s restraining arm with a choked sob. Her arms wrapped hard around Lia''s small, trembling form, pulling the girl close. Her face buried against Lia''s shoulder, shielding her. Muddy handprints smeared dark across Lia''s patched tunic. Hot tears soaked Lia''s damp pigtails, clinging cold.
Lia flinched at the sudden fierce grip, a soft yelp escaping. Her injured hand jerked against Anna''s torn vest, smearing a faint red streak on the leather. Her whimpers spiked, thin points of sound in the air. Anna held firm, rocking slow, steady, her own tears flowing silent now, hot trails against her cold skin. "Lia," she choked out, the name rough, cracking. She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat. "Lia, it''s okay... I''m here." Her forehead pressed against Lia''s hair, damp curls cool against her skin. "I''m sorry... I''m so sorry." Her voice trailed off, the sound thin against the wind. Her grip on Lia loosened slightly.
Lia''s sobs quieted into shuddering gasps. Her small body eased within Anna''s hold, though her injured hand stayed curled inward, knuckles pressed white against her chest. Wet hazel eyes lifted, pupils wide in the dim light, fixed on Anna''s face. A tiny nod, a bare dip of her chin. "You said... fix it," she murmured, the voice small, clear but trembling, cutting through the smoky air. Her gaze drifted again to the splintered kite remains in the mud. "Still Anna?" she added, her small frame shivering slight. "Not... not like... him?" The question hung, heavy.
Anna recoiled, a sharp intake of breath rattling in her chest. Her eyes snapped wide, fixed on Lia. Another sob ripped from Anna''s throat, ragged, tearing. She pulled Lia tighter, arms shaking, the movement jarring fire through her fractured ribs. Lia''s uninjured hand found Anna''s muddy sleeve, small fingers closing over the rough fabric. Anna''s own chest rose and fell shallowly beneath the touch, her gaze still locked, unseeing, on Lia''s face.
Villagers'' shapes loomed blurred at the edge of the lantern light—Miriam''s face pale, tears glistening bright as she hovered near; Kassia pressing a fresh rag gentle to Lia''s wound, her hands steady now; Tolvar standing silent, rigid, dark silhouette taut against the flickering canvas. Light narrowed, haloing Anna and Lia in the unsteady amber glow. Then the tarp flap flung wide with a harsh screech of tearing canvas. Elara burst in, her stocky frame freezing as her gaze swept the scene. Her eyes snapped from Horik''s bloody heap in the mud—his breath a wet, shallow rasp—to Anna''s hunched form over Lia, then locked onto the girl''s hand, blood seeping dark through Kassia''s makeshift bandage. "What happened?" Elara''s voice was sharp, slicing the smoky haze. She stepped closer, mud squelching thick under her heavy boots.
Anna''s head jerked up. Tear tracks streaked her face dark, blurring the grime. Her eyes narrowed to slits, grayish-blue points burning fierce in the dimness. "Leave us alone," she hissed, shifting her body to block Lia, curling tighter, arms locking like steel braces around the child.
Elara''s brow furrowed. She crouched slight, boots sinking into the mire. Her voice dropped, low, tight with strain. "Anna, please—what happened? Tell me." The words came out sharp, ragged, cutting the heavy stillness. Lantern light glinted off sweat beading her forehead. Her breath puffed faint clouds in the damp air. Her hands twisted the rag she held, fingers restless, the coarse fabric fraying thin.
Anna''s lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. Her gaze dropped to Lia''s bandaged hand. "Get out," she rasped, the sound cracking, barely a whisper against the wind''s sigh outside. Her scraped fingers tightened around Lia''s wrist. She curled inward, turning her back partially towards Elara. Sobs muffled against Lia''s shoulder as she rocked the child gentle.
Elara rose, a sharp exhale fogging the damp air. She whirled toward Horik. He groaned, clutching his bloodied shoulder, his breaths uneven, hitching like stones scraping dirt. A deep gash ran above his brow, skin bruised purple, slick with crimson. Mud and blood smeared his torn tunic. His shoulder drooped awkward. His whole frame shook with pain and cold. "Horik, what did you do?" Elara snapped, her voice hard. She strode towards him, her shadow falling long across the muck. "Why''s she like this? What happened?"
Horik coughed—a wet, rattling hack. He tried to push himself up with one arm, hand slipping in the slick mud, leaving red-brown streaks. "She... she says my companion... scar... attacked her," he croaked, the words thick, slurring together. His storm-gray eyes flicked towards Anna, unfocused, pupils dilated slight. His head lolled. "Rennon?" he added, the name a jagged whisper. His brow furrowed deep.
Elara''s head snapped back. Her eyes sharpened, shock visible. "Rennon? Why would he do that?" she demanded, her voice spiking higher. Her hands fell from her belt, clenching into tight fists. The dirty rag dropped unnoticed into the mud. She leaned closer to Horik, her face inches from his, brow knotted, lips parted.
Villagers'' murmurs swelled again, a low, uneasy current under the wind. A graying woman near the back whispered, audible now, "The lean man with the scar..." Her gaze, and others'', flickered toward Anna. Through the grime and torn jacket, bruises darkened Anna''s visible skin. A long, ugly welt near her ribs caught the lamplight. The burly farmer beside the woman shook his head, his voice low but carrying. "Horik''s crew... But that... that wasn''t from falling." Another voice, a younger woman holding a tool, hissed louder, "So he did attack her... then why''s Horik still here...?"
Kassia''s head jerked up, her glare fixed sharp on Horik. "She lost it—your crew pushed her too far," she spat, the words laced with venom as she pressed the cloth tight to Lia''s wound, fingers steady despite her shaking voice. She looked at Anna brief, then shook her head fierce.
Tolvar shifted, boots squelching heavy in the mud. He scrubbed a hand rough over his jaw. The paleness left his cheeks, replaced by a hardening set to his mouth. "Heard yelling—then she hit him," he muttered, glancing towards Anna''s slumped form, then fixing Horik with a cold, unwavering stare. "But if that lean man did attack her first... why didn''t you stop him, Horik? Why shield him?" He stepped back deliberate, arms crossing tight over his broad chest. Mud flecked dark on his tunic sleeve.
Horik, held firm by two grim-faced villagers now, tried to push upright again, wincing sharp. "I never knew!" he choked out, the words raw, desperate, aimed at Tolvar. He shook his head weak, smearing more blood and mud across his face. "He never showed any trace... nothing like this! I swear it!" His plea sounded thin against the heavy tension.
Elara''s jaw locked tight. Her eyes swept from Horik''s desperate face to Tolvar''s cold suspicion, then to the murmuring, hostile villagers. Her hands, still smeared with grime from the dropped rag, clenched tighter. "We''ll take him to the old barn," she said again, voice steady, sharp, cutting through the rising unease. "Far enough to cool this down ''til we sort it out." Her gaze flicked towards Anna, huddled over Lia, then she gave a curt nod to the villagers holding Horik.
Their grips tightened, faces grim, eyes hard as they hauled him up rough. Mud sucked at their boots. Their low words followed him like stones: "He knew..." "Lying." "Get ''em out."
Horik swayed, boots gouging deep furrows in the mire. Blood dripped steady from the gash above his brow, spotting the dark ground with crimson beads. His ragged breaths faded as they dragged him towards the barn''s vague shape in the gloom beyond the tarp''s edge. Elara lingered a heartbeat, her eyes taking in the scene—Anna hunched protective over Lia, the bloody mud, the hard, accusing faces, Horik''s slumped, beaten form—before turning sharp, boots thudding heavy in the muck, following them out into the wind and gathering rain.
Anna sank back against the muddy ground. Her arms, legs felt heavy, disconnected, like stone anchored to the cold earth. Each breath pushed a hot spike under her ribs, stealing air, leaving only a shallow gasp. The raw scent of wet earth pressed close, thick, mixed with the acrid bite of scorched wood drifting from Cloudchaser''s ruin nearby. Her gaze drifted, unfocused, snagging on a small object half-buried in the mud beside her—a vial? Cold glass glinted faint under the lantern''s sputtering light. gone? Did Rennon drop...? The thought fragmented, lost. Kassia knelt close, a dark shape in the gloom, hands moving swift. A sharp sting flared brief on Anna''s arm as salve touched scraped skin—a pinpoint of sensation against the vast, dull ache spreading through her chest.
"I can''t..." The words were breath, formless, lost against the wind drumming the tarp. Her hand twitched near the mud, fingers brushing cold grit, then fell limp. Fresh scrapes on her knuckles throbbed, a dull pulse against the chill. "I failed... Cloudchaser..." A ragged sound tore from deep inside her chest, a tearing noise that shook her frame. Tears spilled hot, blurring the flickering lantern light, soaking into the rough cloth of Miriam''s shoulder as her mother knelt tight beside her, gripping Anna''s hand hard. Miriam''s hair hung in wet, silver streaks, clinging to her mud-streaked cheek.
"You''re still here," Miriam rasped, voice rough, shaking but solid. Her calloused fingers squeezed Anna''s, a fierce pressure. "You—my girl—that''s what I have left."
Anna shook her head, a weak movement against Miriam''s shoulder. The lantern light dimmed, seemed to shrink. Darkness pressed heavy at the edges of her vision. Shadows thrown by the flame stretched long, twisting along the tarp frame like grasping fingers. Miriam''s hand held fast, a point of warmth, but the sounds around Anna—Kassia''s movements, the wind''s howl—faded, muffled, distant. An emptiness pressed hard against her chest, a physical weight making it difficult to pull a breath.
Lia sat tucked close beside her, small shoulders hunched. Her bandaged hand lay still in her lap. She clutched the ruined kite—torn canvas, splintered wood—its shape barely visible in the gloom. Her dark eyes, wide and reflecting the lamplight, held a soft wetness. Anna bowed her head, her fingers finding Lia''s uninjured hand, threading through the small fingers. The child''s pulse fluttered against her skin, a thin, erratic beat against her own slowing rhythm. "I''m so sorry," Anna murmured, the words grit scraping her throat. Lia leaned closer, damp hair brushing cold against Anna''s cheek.
The sky outside darkened further, settling into deep gray. Wind buffeted the tarp hard, canvas snapping sharp, loud. Cold air carrying the sharp metallic tang of rain swept through the opening. Footsteps crunched urgent near the tarp entrance. Old Joren''s voice cut through the wind''s howl, rough, commanding. "Mira! Kael! Stormchaser engines—now! Tolvar, supplies!" Sounds of movement outside—heavy boots pounding mud, the scrape of crates, the sudden sputtering roar of an airship engine coughing awake, then another.
"We''ll track that thief," Joren''s voice boomed again, closer now, just beyond the canvas. "He''s got that crystal—we drag it back! He pays!" His silhouette appeared briefly in the entrance, lantern held high, casting a wild, flickering light before he turned, barking more orders into the wind. The drone of engines surged—Red Wing, Stormchaser, Iron Gale—then receded slow into the distance, their hum fading, swallowed by the rising storm. Footsteps faded. Silence settled back, thick, cold, underscored only by wind and waves.
Catch him... doesn''t matter. Anna felt only the dull hollowness spreading inside. Cloudchaser... diary... gone. Shattered. The shape near her ribs pressed cold, insistent through her vest. Vial? What... The thought slipped away.
Beneath the tarp, Kassia and Miriam moved quiet in the dimness—shadows tending shadows. Bandages unwound, rustled soft. The dented pot steamed faint over the brazier, its watery contents untouched. The lantern flame faltered again, wick sputtering low, casting swirling shapes on the canvas walls. A cold draft snaked across the muddy floor, carrying the sharp smell of coming rain. "Try to rest," Miriam murmured, her voice a thin thread against the rising wind. Her trembling fingers brushed Anna''s singed braid back from her face. "Can''t fix it now... not today."
Anna''s eyelids felt impossibly heavy. Exhaustion, thick as the mud beneath her, seeped into her bones. Each shallow breath scraped raw against the fire in her bruised side. Guilt throbbed dull, steady. Her head sagged against the cold, damp ground beneath the thin blanket Miriam had placed there. Kassia slumped against a crate nearby, a still shadow, eyes half-closed, watchful exhaustion etched on her face. Miriam settled on the earth beside Anna, drawing her shawl tighter, the lines around her eyes deep, breaths uneven in the chilling air. Lia curled closer against Anna''s side, a small weight, a soft press of warmth, her bandaged hand resting light on Anna''s arm.
The lantern flame flickered low, amber bleeding into smoky haze. Rain began to patter soft against the tarp, a rhythmic drumming. The cold draft carried the earthy tang of rain-soaked soil. Anna''s shoulders slumped further. Her fingers loosened around Lia''s small hand. Her arm grew heavier, leaden, falling still in the mud.
Her head tilted back against the rough wood of a crate behind her. Her breaths slowed further, shallow, uneven whispers in the dark. The hum of the departed airships faded completely from hearing. Through a tear in the tarp high above, ragged clouds parted brief, like torn sails. Stars winked—tiny, cold, indifferent points of light—then vanished again behind the scudding gray. Above them, glimpsed faint, the supernova nebula—copper and violet tendrils sprawling—shimmered like fractured lace against the blackness.
The nebula blurred. Her eyelids descended heavy. Her chest rose, fell, a faltering motion. The fight seeped out of her, draining away into the mud. "Lia..." she murmured, voice a faint slur, fading into silence. Her hand twitched once, then stilled. Her head lolled sideways. Blonde hair, stiff with mud and singed at the tips, spilled across her tear-streaked face. The world softened, edges blurring into gray shadow. Her body went completely slack against the cold, damp earth. Her eyes drifted shut. Consciousness slipped away, pulled down into the thick, silent dark.