18th of Evening Star, 7E 335, Senchal
"Quick, quick!" An Imperial man was shouting, in heavily accented Ta'agra, trying to be heard over the din of the airship's mechanisms, "Get on board!", as the last few people on the ground climbed the staircase.
Meanwhile, Janiaani-ma was staring at her hometown from the deck. Senchal, capital of the Elsweyr Union. Senchal of the thousand stalls full of postcards, Senchal of the old monuments, Senchal of the ivory beaches, Senchal of the many colors. Her grandfather often had repeated to the Ohmesi-raht child how lucky she'd been to be born amidst such beauty—a beauty Jani was losing that day, perhaps forever.
"Be strong, ma, Cyrodiil is going to help us defeat the Army of Tomorrow. We'll stay in Leyawiin for a few months, a year at most... By your eleventh birthday we'll be back, I promise." Janiaani-ma's uncle Ja'mijali whispered, "And we'll see our family again." The young Cathay, despite his authoritative title in regards to the girl, was only a few years older than her, a fact of which Jani had never been more painfully aware. The Scrib Visa, an expedited visa to league territory, didn't take anyone older than fifteen. Ja-mijali had barely made it-his sixteenth birthday would fall in three weeks' time. There was no more time for a more elaborate visa: the civil war had abruptly turned into the AoT's favor a few months prior, and the two youths' family was known for its royalist stance. At best they would be jailed. At best. Hopefully the League would reconquer it, or at least find a way to overthrow Ri'zhemi-do. And in a few months Jani would embrace her mother again... But what if the league didn't succeed? What if her parents were executed before she could return? What if she never returned? Jani tried to forbid herself from thinking such nonsense.
She looked at the ship's occupants to distract herself. A few wealthy businessmen were huddled together in a group, talking about work even in those circumstances. Nobles were clinging onto each other as well as to their wounded pride. There were many—too many—Scrib kids, alone and lost like Jani and Ja'Mijali. There were the lucky ones—whole families who at least had each other. But was there anyone in there who was lucky? For in that airship, count, trader, and cook were alike in their grief for their impending exile. A middle-aged woman was loudly protesting League policies: "Can't Cyrodiil fight with its own soldiers? Do they have to take advantage of us? Wasn't it enough to not do anything when Zhemi's forces started attacking?" A somewhat pudgy Ohmesi boy around Jani's age was comforting his kitten sister, who was weeping in his arms, while looking at his mother. An Alfiqi man and his Pahmari-raht bride were at the ship's bow, kissing, still in their wedding attire. It would have been a highly amusing scene in any other situation, but now Jani could only admire the couple's determination to marry in their homeland. Two children, both of them Tojays, played tag, unaware of the circumstances, or choosing to ignore them.
"Hello," The young Ohmes-the one with the baby sister-greeted Jani, "What's your name?"
"Janiaan-ma, but I normally go by Jani."
"Athahimanizhar-ma. Athi. Are you..."
"A Scrib kid, yes."
"I'm sorry."
"How old are you, Athi?"
"Eleven. Almost twelve."
"Ten."
"What do you think Cyrodiil will be like?"
"Who knows."
"Shhh! The captain is speaking!"
"Ladies and gentlemen," An amplified voice began, "This is Captain Julie Bellemer speaking. You are aboard Tamair Flight S1, Senchal to Leyawiin. You are in League territory from this moment onwards, and the League's laws and customs will apply." Cheering welcomed that last sentence, "We shall depart momentarily. Good travels."
The airship's two balloons rose, and its wing-paddles started moving. A woman's cry broke the silence. Jani and Athi watched, as the airship rose and Senchal of the many colors bcame smaller, and smaller, and smaller.