While in the process of rewriting this chapter, I'd decided to split it - which is why this half has a new name.

Chapter 2: Where the Cannon Leads

By ClaudeLv250

Claude sat a brown pouch on the desk near his window and began to gather items for his journey: gold, small rations like bread and cheese, and a small flask of water. Keeping in mind his slumbering parents, he scurried with the finesse of a mouse, using the nascent light of the early morning to guide him. Once the pouch was filled to capacity, he tied it to his belt opposite of his spiritually refurbished sword.

He took one more satisfied glance around his room before saying, "I guess I'm ready." His next task was figuring out how to get off the island and to the Water Palace as soon as possible.

The bed shifted as Claude sat down to ponder his options. No ships were leaving port this early, and even if they were, the nearest land was the Kakkara desert. Traveling across the desert, through the Upper Lands, and somewhere into the midpoint of the Lower Lands could potentially take weeks. Small dragons native to the Upper Lands were sometimes tamed and used for flight, but his never actually having seen one was enough to establish the probability of that happening.

Whisked into sudden being, a sparkle of light appeared above Claude's head before starting a whimsical flight about his room. He felt oddly compelled to accommodate it, holding out his hand. Warmth filled his palm when the sparkle landed softly within his grip.

"Lumina, you're manifesting already...? Zachariah wasn't kidding about Mana returning."

"Hello Claude," the light murmured its greeting. "I chose an appropriate form considering the current levels of Mana."

Claude found himself entranced by Lumina's light. There was a power tucked deep in that brilliant core, and it almost caused him to lose his train of thought. "I want to get to the Water Palace; I just don't know how soon that's going to happen."

The light took off into the air. "You have the knowledge. You must be willing to go through with it."

"...Cannon travel!" Claude blurted out before clamping his mouth shut. He sat still and monitored the silence; even Lumina froze in place.

There was no stirring from his parent's bedroom. That was good.

"Of all the ways to get off the island..." he ranted quietly.

"It's a legitimate form of transportation," Lumina replied.

Claude suspected that Lumina's sudden erratic movement was to avoid the glare he was now throwing in his direction. "That's easy for you to say. No one's stuffing you in a cannon and launching you over the ocean."

"You will face things far worse than cannon travel if you are to be my Chosen One."

"Like Galbalan...?" Claude sighed. For a moment, he forgot who – and what – he was speaking to. If this was part of Lumina's test, he was failing miserably. and he had no intention of ending it that way.

"Alright," he jumped up from his bed, "I can deal with cannon travel." I'll just consider it a necessary evil to get off the island, he thought to himself.

The sparkle let off a soft pulse. Was Lumina...happy? "There is a reason I came to you yesterday, Augario. Remember that." The voice echoed as the light faded. Claude was on his own once more.

There was one more glance around the room, this time filled with nostalgia and a hint of sadness, before Claude stepped out, leaving the door ajar.

At the end of the hallway was the master bedroom. Claude carefully opened the door just enough to peek in, watching his parents' peaceful slumber under the golden linens.

Should he tell them? No, he told them countless times that he was leaving. He knew how that confrontation would anyway. Plenty of yelling; emotional wounds, raw and festering in the open from the battle of the Augarios would haunt him. His parents would try to stop him, not that they could. At least this way, they would figure it out.

A funny thought occurred to him. He was departing in his favorite outfit; at least they wouldn't have to complain about seeing him in it anymore.

Before long, Claude was departing under the turquoise awning at 1993 Rodeigo Street. The neighborhood carried a crisp morning chill and deathly silence; Claude was rarely up this early, and this glimpse at an alternate Gold City only helped solidify the feeling of imminent departure.

His gaze fell upon the neighboring residence of the Norelles with the burgundy bouquet on its door. A knot gripped his gut; Treece made him promise that they would leave together. There was even a fleeting thought of taking her along for the ride.

We never said neither of us couldn't leave and come back before that year was up, Claude thought. It was a necessary contortion of the truth. It was a mission from Lumina! You can't turn down an elemental spirit. Treece would understand one day. She had to.

"I'll be back one day and I'll explain everything to everybody..." Claude murmured as he took the first steps towards his departure.

To the east of the city wall was a forested trail leading to a cliffed coast occasionally called the Glittering Bluffs. Claude followed the lonely trail to the bluffs, where he found a gated clearing built around a massive cannon. At the base of the cannon was a short man using a scattering of papers as a makeshift bed. Turbulent snoring confirmed all Claude needed to know.

"Hello?" he murmured. There was nothing worse than a rude awakening, but it was beginning to seem necessary. "Hellooooooo."

Abruptly, the snoring ceased. The man turned over and cast an indifferent glance at Claude before nestling within the papers again. After a brief moment, he did a panicked double-take and scrambled to his feet.

"A c-c-customer!?" he sputtered as he slid on the papers beneath his feet. "Welcome to the Cannon Brothers' cannon travel service! I'm Steyr; who are you and where're ya headin'?"

Steyr Cannon was a short, round man in a green jumpsuit. Thick goggles adorned his face and his hair sprung about in wild strands, its only consistency being its inconsistency. His stubby arms and legs never moved too far from his body. Steyr's center of gravity was a constant state of compression.

"I'm Claude, and I need to get to the Water Palace as soon as possible."

"Wow!" Steyr exclaimed after a moment. He began to scoop up the papers at his feet; Claude spotted various notes and trajectories scribbled along them. "That's actually pretty far, but I can manage it!"

"How much is the trip?" Claude asked, reaching into the pouch at his side.

"Oh, no no no! I'm sure you have good money, but it's Cannon Brothers' tradition that the first customer is free!"

Claude froze. "I'm the first customer?" he repeated. "You've been here this long, and I'm the first customer?"

Steyr combed over the papers and tried to organize them. "You shouldn't be so surprised. You live here, right? I'm sure you understand."

"It's...undignified," Claude admitted. There was nothing glamorous about being shot out of a cannon.

"I told my brothers a cannon wouldn't get much use in Gold City, but noooo...I got outvoted!" As Steyr continued to rant, Claude approached the cannon and ran his hand along the black surface. He ignored the apprehension fluttering in his gut.

"They wouldn't send Mort out here! This is what happens when you're the youngest brother!"

"I wouldn't know," Claude said, snapping Steyr out of his rant.

"Oh, sorry. Water Palace it is!" Steyr tucked the papers under his arm and waddled over to the back of the cannon. He adjusted its position, lowering the barrel towards the ground.

Claude inched his way to the mouth of the cannon and peered into the darkness.

A wide, toothy smile found its way to Steyr's lips and he bounced enthusiastically in place. "There's nothing to be afraid of!" he declared. "Jump in!"

Claude waited a moment before asking, "Steyr, have you ever heard the name Galbalan?"

"Doesn't ring a bell. Should I have?"

"Nah, don't worry about it." Claude held his breath and leapt into the cannon. Gears creaked as the cannon turned and pointed toward the dawn sky. Curling into a ball, Claude closed his eyes and let images of his mission distract him: Lumina's lamp post, an old sage in a temple surrounded by water, the suffocating darkness of Galbalan, and Treece's disappointed face...

"First, rules for safety!" Steyr called out. "Stay in ball form during the flight. You may be stricken with the urge to flail about in a panic. Please don't."

"Is that it?"

"Yep. Happy landings, and don't forget to visit my brothers whenever you need Cannon Travel service!"

The next few moments of nothingness were excruciating, but they were dwarfed and shattered by a deafening boom. Claude felt his body lurch into the skies with the force of a pissed off gigas. His gold universe shrank into an expanse of blue as sea and sky merged in a dizzying flight. The panic Steyr warned him about gripped his chest as he realized he had no idea where or how to make a 'happy landing'...

A lemon-furred mammal's limbless body leapt through the bushes towards the river's bank. The water's calm surface was illuminated by the tranquil morning sky. The feral rabite's ears and nose twitched as it approached the water. Keen senses kept the creature on alert, but it couldn't quite comprehend the danger assaulting its instincts. With no better options, the thirsty critter took a chance and drank from the river.

Sudden and violently, Water erupted as Claude ended his flight; the blast sent the rabite reeling through the air and back from whence it came. Pulling himself onto the bank, Claude rolled onto his back, oblivious to the creature that had been displaced.

"What was I even thinking?" he asked himself after several minutes, breathing heavily. The twin moons were still barely visible in the sky. The shifting leaves of the tree shading him caught his curiosity and he sat up suddenly, realizing that his sight had been flooded with the greens of the earth. Trees, grass, and even the Typha reeds bouncing by water's edge carried the earthy colors of natural life.

Claude let out an ironic laugh. "Put my life on the line in that cannon and this isn't even the Water Palace." Even so, this wasn't a bad place to end up.

He stood up and found the annoyance of his wet clothes was far outweighed by the relief of surviving. Ducking under the trees and shifting through the bushes behind him, he found a lone dirt road. To the south was a bridge leading over an offshoot of the river. A withered wooden sign pointing northeast read "Cannon Travel Center!"

"Out of the question!" he reacted instinctively.

Further north, over the treetops, Claude could see dark plumes of smoke billowing into the sky. If that belonged to a chimney, there had to be people nearby. Perhaps one of them could point him in the right direction.

The dirt trail eventually turned into one laden with white cobblestones. It wasn't quite a road made of gold, but that made it all the more welcoming. The occasional branch brushed against him as the path narrowed and ended at a gate composed of worn logs, arranged vertically as a tight wall. At the mouth of the gate's entrance laid a fallen plaque of wood.

"Potos..." Claude read aloud. Embedded across the palisade was a deep, bestial gash. He ran a finger along the raw damage with his left hand, his right having crossed to the grip of the sword by his side.

His nose reacted first, immediately flushed with the smell of flames as he stepped through the gate before witnessing the horror with his own eyes: Potos village boasted a set of fresh ruins. He was standing in the aftermath of a warzone.

"What the hell happened here!"