The Shadow Fox was a very small skiff freighter built for high speed over long distances. Its mainsails were navy blue over a shining pine hull, with borders painted to a fine yellow-gold. It was the first operating airship that Caesar Tantalus had built as an engineer, and afterwards The Tantalus Airship Syndicate came to control business and politics around the world through a shrewd system of corporate takeovers and barely-legitimate dealings in the underground world of organized crime. Caesar Tantalus sat at the head of the Syndicate, but was truly a strange one: he didn't hide in his mansions and behind laws and politic backings. He was world-renowned and meeting his acquaintance became pandemic, so long as you weren't too normal.
The design of The Shadow Fox was centered around its compact size and high degree of maneuverability. Several motors and pressurized engines propelled the ship through the air like a knife through butter, with nine different sails altogether. The three mainsails were huge and cupped themselves over the deck, rather like the orchestra hall of Sydney, Australia. These were tightly bound back with several cords attaching to the rail and the above-deck, under which was housed the quarters, the office, the brig and the engine room. On the sides were cannon-windows and sandbags. Neighboring them were two extending sails folded into the below-deck, tightly bound to the hull, that caught updrafts and allowed for quick turns and high-speed take-offs, often used in conjunction with the main pressurized engines. Lining the hull were several attachments besides the lift: multi-directional rotors that elevated the ship, forced it to hover or gave extra propellant.
Right now, those rotors were slowly dropping The Shadow Fox through the clouds, descending upon Romeo Township, magically suspended on the slopes of Azrael's Peak, the short, jagged neighbor to Death Mountain. Wonder was in the eyes of the Drake Squires, as they were so called, in training to be Dragon Knights. Their wooden pole-arms were pointing down now as The Shadow Fox fell through the air. They jumped out of the way as the sandbags suddenly dropped to the ground in the main courtyard, ringed by hedges and flowers and shielded from the rain of the nearby waterfalls that were on both sides of the city. Several large towers and walkways played a big part in keeping the streets of the inner city pleasant and dry.
"Come on," Tantalus motioned to Olly to follow him below deck and down the hall to exit through a trapdoor hidden in the circular back side of the hull.
"Whoa, where do you think you are going?" Skye asked Gaiden as he perched carefully on the clown's shoulder.
"To take the stairs. You don't catch on well, do you?"Gaiden shot back, annoyed at having no depth perception through his mask.
"No, they're taking the stairs. We need to nail the ship down. On both sides, little boy," Skye said, taking a rope in his beak and nicking Gaiden to force him to turn around.
"Well what do you expect me to do, jump off a side?" Gaiden finished lamely, throwing his hands out as if to try to present the obvious solution in a sarcastic form.
"Yeah."
"You can't be serious!" Gaiden yelled, but Skye nicked him again in the ear and took off, switching the cable to his talons and chasing Gaiden over to the edge. Gaiden was forced to jump over and roll under the ship as most of the court chuckled at his predicament. Gaiden swore vengeance and began nailing down the ship with Skye's rope as the falcon draped the eight other ropes over the sides. Gaiden muttered to himself as already some of the Drake Squires began to throw Rupees at his feet for "a fantastic performance." Gaiden swore again as he nailed down the ropes one-by-one. On the last rope near the back engines, he suddenly became aware of footsteps clicking across the marble stone floors, approaching him from behind. He paused.
"Nice to see you again, Gaiden," a softer voice said, but it held some of the same arrogance and mischief that has played its way through the story so far. Gaiden turned around to see who was calling him, and he suddenly built a stony expression around his face. He didn't realize how hard that was to do as a clown.
"Aria DeSanti," Gaiden remarked casually in full arrogance and mild dislike. The woman wore a strangely fine jet dress that seemed to be sewn for more practical use. The top was black, with a red outline section beginning just below the armpits and cutting off suddenly at the ribs. It split just below the sternum, almost like a coat, (the lightweight, padded, nylon fabric sewn into the inside was red) leaving a small, dark navy, skintight sleeveless undershirt that left her abdomen exposed, with khaki, almost orange shorts.
"Looks like you've made some modifications since the last time I saw you," the woman said, looking up at The Shadow Fox, mainly at the unhidden armaments gunner seats along the bow, and the smaller, pseudo-bazooka station at the stern. Of course, these are crude, almost art-like Industrial Revolution interpretations of modern weaponry. "Lot of extra weight in the cannons."
"I've made the necessary adjustments," Gaiden said monotonously, stepping onto the final spike and driving it into the ground with his weight as he leaned over against the ship. He cleaned the sweat and dirt from his hands with a handkerchief, and returned his gloves.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way," she said as though she were trying to patch a few things, but with no real expectancy for that to happen.
"Yeah, okay," Gaiden said rather as though he didn't believe a word she said. Aria looked startled for a moment, but quickly regained her bearings.
"Nice outfit," she remarked. "Another one of mine?" Not even I have any idea where that came from. She turned and walked away, making another acquaintance. Gaiden shook his head and looked down at the ground, closing his eyes to rest. Skye quickly fluttered down onto his shoulder.
"What was that all about?" Skye asked, preening his armor-like black feathers as he spoke.
"Aria's in town," Gaiden said, starting to turn to follow Tantalus and Olly inside.
The rhythmic harmony of an ocarina rang through the courts of Romeo, complimented by the jingling exchange of coins, conversation and laughter. Gaiden was playing a dagger as an instrument, a hollow blade with holes drilled into it, the mouthpiece at the hilt. Several accounts of tiny rainbow marbles were suspended comically in midair above the notes by Gaiden's breath, his fingers moving between them so quickly that the marbles dropped but a little. Gaiden was twisting his upper and lower torso to the beat while keeping his stance almost unchanging besides a few strafes and steps backwards. He was dodging the dives and rakes of Skye as the falcon feigned attempts to attack Gaiden, pretending to be swayed by the music. He was rather bored as Gaiden tapped him once again on the back of the neck with his finger as a test of skill.
All at once (and all too soon for the spectators), the sun set behind Death Mountain, and Gaiden snatched off the five marbles one by one, ending his sonata with that finale. Skye landed on his shoulder, now entirely unruffled by the absence of a requiem, and Gaiden's hands took up the blade and threw it at a target he had previously nailed to a tree-trunk. It barely made it inside the third ring. Gaiden shrugged wearily, bowed very low, and collapsed onto his back, miming his own wound by the dagger-ocarina. There was an applause and shouts for encore (as though Gaiden and Skye would proceed until sunrise), and many coins and jewels were dropped into a box. It was, as always, less than they had hoped for.
"Will you be performing at the banquet tomorrow?" A middle-aged bystander asked kindly as the others quickly departed. "You might get better pay if they can't avoid you."
Gaiden laughed but shook his head. He wanted to be out of this town as fast as he could, and he hoped Tantalus's meetings with the Regent Mattias were over. Then again, he had said something about a party... Gaiden sighed heavily as the man left, and he latched shut the box full of donations and retrieved his dagger. He left the target. It'd be there in the morning. He walked back over to the ship and tugged on the knob at the top of the door set in the hull of The Shadow Fox. It knocked against a wooden lobster tied to the hull as it swung down with the red carpet, and Gaiden climbed inside.
Before long, Oliver and Tantalus joined him. "I saw you from the library," Oliver remarked. "You went out with class, even when they stiffed you."
"About as much class as you could have a clown, anyway," Tantalus said through his teeth, tearing off pieces of meat from his hot-plate. Steak, mushrooms, potatoes. Skye's hunting quarry, strangely enough.
"Yeah," Gaiden said off-handed, rather detached. He was hugging his knees, leaning against the mast of the first sail and staring up at the stars as they began to shine on the midnight blue that trailed the golden glare of the long-gone sunset. No one seemed to mind. In fact, these were the times that he liked best. "Hey, did anyone see that older guy hanging around after my act? Darker robes, grayer hair, charismatic snob. I got the impression he was more low-brow, though."
"Hume?" Tantalus asked. Gaiden nodded. "Wyborn. He's a foreign Magus. Talked business with him. He's the Regent's latest advisor. You should be interested in him."
"Why's that?"
"Because he's watching you right now, and he's understood every word you said."Gaiden's head whipped around to the open window, and he still stood there. Gaiden's eyes narrowed.
Gaiden didn't wait for the dreams to come that night. He stood up a few minutes after they all ate, and excused himself. He retired down the stairs and opened up the closet. He knew it was a lame premise, but he figured that it would work anyway. He grabbed a few pillows and stuck it under his covers. It was a lame premise, Gaiden knew, but it would work anyway. He set its "head" against the wall instead of near the window, afraid Skye might guess at his intentions and see through the charade once he perched on the poster.
Gaiden took a running leap and scrambled up the ladder to his bunk, sliding forward through the open port and out onto the court. He grabbed onto one of the ropes he nailed down earlier, and slowly made his way down to a soft landing. He wanted to be fast before Skye returned from his midnight snack. Gaiden looked down solemnly at his hands as he strafed quietly into the shadows. The steel hook and line that he held in his hand still glistened through the impeding darkness that fell over Gaiden like a blanket. The hook draped down to his elbow as he curled his arm, letting the line loose and slide over his palm. There was the quick, low whistle of rushing air as the flash of silver spun like a cyclone before a dim outline in the darkness, and launched itself high up alongside the small tower above. It barely caught on a ledge between two flagpoles, and held.
Gaiden took a deep breath, and slowly made his way up to the window where the foreign Hume Magus (Wyborn) had been watching him from earlier. He guessed it was the library, going on simple intuition. His hands were rough and callused from sword practice, and his grip was strong. He was quickly balancing between the two flagpoles as he wrapped up the grappling hook, and slowly pushed open the window before climbing in.
His eyes showed him everything, even in the dim light of a low-burning lantern. Rows and rows of bookshelves with two open doorways at either end of the room, alphabetized by class. Gaiden quickly pawned his way through the non-fiction section, looking for more of an encyclopedia. He found a few titles as good as any, and set them on the table near the light of the candle. He took the lantern and moved to close the doors to this compact but roomy domed library tower, until he felt the rough, hard tap on his shoulder of a tough oak staff. Gaiden sighed deeply.
"Well, well," there was a gentle snigger of a deep, rich voice behind him. "Are we playing somewhere we shouldn't be?"
Gaiden didn't answer, and the voice didn't expect it. Instead, the speaker simply flicked his hand, drawing the curtains with his own kinetic prowess. The large oak doors shut with a slam that rang out through the room.
"No loud noises in the library," Gaiden answered with a snicker at his own wit in this situation. The magician told him to turn around, and Gaiden's hand tightened. He reached for the musical dagger at his hip, but a hot blast of bluebell flame rushed past him, and his sheath caught the flames. It burned Gaiden's hands to try to break the jinx, and his willpower was sapped when he tried to do so. He sighed heavily again, turned and set the lantern on the table. He turned it up, and put his hands in the air.
He was looking into the eyes of a younger man than he expected, about forty or so, with hair slowly going from brown to gray. He was far more rugged than Gaiden had expected too: very old jeans, a denim shirt and muddy boots. He had a gnarled old oak staff, with a thick, heavy head. He was clearly used to handling a sword just as well.
The old Magus beckoned him to sit, and Gaiden didn't mind obliging. With a wave of his hand, the old man impatiently lit the chandeliers overhead and began pawning through Gaiden's suggestions. "The Layman's Guide to Bewitchings, Curses, Jinxes, and All Manner of Magical Maladies. Great choice, if you're looking for a paper-weight," the old man said, and the book flew out of his hands and ordered itself back onto its shelf.
"What would you know about why I came here?!" Gaiden half-yelled, genuinely confused by the old guy's behavior. Maybe he's senile, Gaiden thought to himself, and prepared to make his thoughts public. "For all you know, I came here rob you."
"Yes, you decided to steal from a library. Retard." Without pausing, he moved on to the next book. "Fortune-Telling Everyday Occurrences. Closer, but still, the only thing half-right about this is the Everyday part," he magicked it onto the table and the pages began flipping back and forth from the index to various pages, mostly about premonitions.
"...Who are you, anyway?" Gaiden asked, half-stunned as he watched the ribbon sewn into the spine of the book mark page 329, the beginning of a chapter on "The Gift."
"The new guy. Now, here's an interesting title," the new guy said, looking down at the final book with fondness.
"Wyborn?"
"Mr.," he italicized it, suddenly closing up the final book and tossing it with his hands over to Gaiden. It knocked the wind out of the Familiar, a few thousand pages long. FATE was printed on the title. "Now," Mr. Wyborn began again. "What would a street performer need to know about fate?"