The majestic sky ship, the Breezebane, flew on, away from the district of Old Undertown.

Bron sat in the lower deck, with around twenty other apprentices who had been chosen for the Twilight Marines. He looked out of the window, and saw countless other sky ships, also containing new Twilight Officers, heading for the great wall known as Twilight's Edge.

He glanced back, in the direction that they had come. In the distance, the towers, bridges, and glades of Old Undertown were shrinking away. And there, above it, were the four great floating rocks. Library Rock, where he and Leris had lived, the great libraries and laboratories still discernible from this distance. Old Sanctaphrax, the most ancient of the districts, with its impressive towers and viaducts, cloisters, lecture halls, and observatories. The Dormitory Towers, with its refugee camps. And…Pirate Landing.

Disappointed tears still swam in Bron's eyes as he looked at the last of the Sanctaphrax rocks. He could see the lower levels, with their bustling sky shipyards, the great tower, with its bridges and docks teeming with great sky ships, and, at the very top, secured by a sturdy anchor chain, the most magnificent vessel ever to take to the skies. The Edgesaver, flagship of the Pirates Academic.

Bron tore his gaze away. He couldn't live in the past. He was a private of the Twilight Marines now, and he would never amount to anything if he devoted his thoughts to bemoaning what might have been.

Instead Bron gazed downwards, at the hundreds of Mire Provinces stretching out over the horizon. Each of these settlements were run by Farmers Academic, devoted to the preservation of a specie or genus from the Deepwoods. A shimmering glade directly below them was filled with magnificent silverpines and goldbeeches, gleaming and shining like precious stones. Another settlement was home to a perfectly simulated habitat for countless species of quarms; silver-backed, long-tailed, shrieking, jag-clawed, and many more. Far in the distance, the magnificent pines of the famous Ironwood Province towered into the sky, some taller than the cruising altitude of their sky ship…

Not all of the provinces were devoted to the protection of species. For instance, the Heredity Province was full of scientists and academics, devoted to breeding hardier versions of the Deepwoods creatures and plants, in the hope that they might be able to survive in the Deadwoods. The Province of Allocation devoted its time to organizing which specimens in the various provinces were to be shipped to other provinces for use as prey or predators. And then there was the greatest province of them all: New Freeglades, where the governing bodies of the Mire Provinces were headquartered.

Bron turned his head to look in the other direction…and gasped.

There it was. Twilight's Edge.

During his training, Bron had often wondered why Twilight's Edge was able to repel the mighty forces of Vartolius Xax. After all, glisterships far outstripped sky ships, and were armed to the teeth with the most destructive weapons; phraxfire globes, rapid-fire catapults, and, worst of all, glisterbeams. But, in that instant, Bron had his answer.

The fortress was larger than Bron could have ever imagined. It stretched all the way from the southern Edgelands to the northern Edgelands, and was so tall that the highest towers and gantries were lost in the clouds. Bron could see that no flying device—flight-rock, varnished sumpwood, phraxchamber, or glisterjet—could possibly fly over it. At that height, the turbulent winds of High Sky would tear any craft to pieces. Nor would they be able to fly around the fortress. Dangling over the Edge itself, on either side of Twilight's Edge, were structures known as "sky-gates"—fortified sumpwood barriers that allowed Omniphrax sky ships to pass by freely, but would block and shoot down any enemy vessel. To attempt to fly around the sky-gates would be suicide, for at that distance from the Edge, any sky ship would be blown out into open sky, from whence there would be no return. Bron could see that the only way to pass through Twilight's Edge would be to blast through the wall—and to do that, any enemy sky ship would have to withstand volleys of crossbow bolts and flaming balls of ironwood.

No, not even the Vilnix Pompolnius itself would be able to breach defenses such as these. Yet Vartolius Xax had tried to breach the defenses for centuries. Every time, the dictator had failed.

In spite of Bron's amazement, he could not shake off the glum feeling that had settled in him since yesterday, at the Announcement Ceremony. Being a Twilight Officer is brave and respectable, he told himself. My parents were both in the Twilight Marines. They died fighting Vartolius Xax. It all comes to the same thing; I'm still serving Omniphrax.

But he didn't believe what he was telling himself. It wasn't the same thing at all. It was perfectly true that the Twilight Marines were courageous and important, but it wasn't the life for him.

As they approached Twilight's Edge, Bron realized that it was even bigger than he had realized. The wall had to be the height of fifty ironwood pines, and covered in bridges, gantries, towers, and weapons. Even more astonishing were the small cities built into the side of the wall, where the Twilight Marines clearly lived. And it was constantly looking larger; every time Bron thought he finally had a good idea of its true size, he realized that they weren't anywhere near the structure.

At long, long last, the Breezebane arrived at a long sumpwood platform, and the apprentice Twilight Officers disembarked. Bron could see the other sky ships docking at other platforms, and distant crowds just like theirs, marching towards the towers and scaffolding of Twilight's Edge.

Bron's group began to climb a set of wooden stairs, and entered a large chamber full of buoyant benches. Bron pulled one towards him, and sat down, along with a fourthling boy with long black hair and a hollow but good-natured face, and a muscular young cloddertrog.

"Well, hello there!" exclaimed the fourthling, holding out his hand first to the cloddertrog, then to Bron. "Name's Durix Hentadile."

"I'm Mord," said the cloddertrog with a grin.

"Bron Rackis," said Bron in a hollow voice.

"What's the matter, Bron?" asked Durix Hentadile, gazing at him intently.

"I didn't get the job I wanted," said Bron glumly.

"Tough, mate," groaned Mord sympathetically. "What were you hoping for?"

"I wanted to be a Pirate Academic."

"Now THAT'S a job!" said Mord.

"Still, Twilight Officer's great, Bron, don't you worry," said Durix. "My dad's a colonel, and he loves it. If we play our cards right, we can climb ladders; we'll be a huge part of the defense of Omniphrax!"

"My parents were both Twilight Corporals," said Bron quietly. "And they were killed during an attack."

"Oh," said Mord. "But it's a lot more dangerous being a Pirate Academic, you know…"

"It's not the danger that worries me," said Bron. "I know the risks. But I don't want to sit here and let the enemy come to us. I want to come to the enemy."

"Attention!"

A Twilight Sergeant had entered the room. He was a grumpy-looking tusked goblin with a purple scar on his cheek. "My name is Groave Scythefang, and I will be training you. You have all been chosen to become officers of the Twilight Marines. But first, you must complete your training. For six months, you will serve in the ranks, alongside the Twilight Privates. Then, you will spend the next six months receiving officer training. Once you graduate, you shall become a full officer, and will begin your duties. Today, you will be given a tour. Follow me."

There was a commotion of activity as the apprentice Twilight Officers hastily steered their buoyant benches back to the ground and followed the Sergeant Scythefang out a door in the back of the room.

They entered a hallway so enormous that, at first, Bron was convinced that they were outside again. Bron quickly realized that the room they were in now was a kind of indoor boulevard, and that several equally large halls branched off theirs. It looked as though smaller buildings had been constructed within the fortress, though smaller was a relative term; they were still immense. The most astonishing thing, however, was the height of the room. They were standing on a platform that looked out over the hall, the floor and ceiling lost to view. Sky ferries and sumpwood skycraft were flying every which way on every level, and people could be seen bustling this way and that on other distant platforms.

"The size of Twilight's Edge may be disconcerting at first," said Sergeant Scythefang, addressing the apprentices, "but you will spend most of your careers in just a few small sections. The interior highways are so highly structured that you won't get lost as often as you'd think. Most of you will live in sections on the Mire side of Twilight's Edge, and work in sections on the Phraxfields side, which is where we are headed now."

He ushered them towards a large sky ferry, climbing into the pilot's seat, and the apprentices took seats behind him. The interior of Twilight's Edge was even more impressive when viewed from the sky ferry; Bron did not know where to look, as there seemed to be activity everywhere.

After several minutes, the sky ferry arrived at the other side of Twilight's Edge. After following Sergeant Scythefang through a few smaller halls and chambers, they stepped out onto a platform overlooking the Phraxfields.

As they were hundreds upon hundreds of strides above the ground, they did not feel the beguiling effects of the golden mist below them. However, Bron knew that this enchanting glow entered the body, robbing one of their senses and sanity, but refusing to let one die. What must it have been like, he wondered, when the Twilight Woods had been here?

The Phraxfields below them sparkled and gleamed, not only with the seductive twilight glow, but also with the particles of stormphrax poking through the earth.

"See the phraxmines below?" said Sergeant Scythefang, pointing down at the countless clusters of lights at the base of Twilight's Edge. These lights were steady and unblinking, unlike the shifting mist and sparkling sepia dust that was present everywhere else. "The phraxminers of our great city have the most dangerous jobs in all of Omniphrax. Not only must they constantly battle the effects of the twilight glow, but they are also technically on Vartolius Xax's turf. Of course, the phraxguardians practically never go out here, but the phraxminers are still vulnerable."

The tusked goblin cleared his throat and continued. "The Omniphrax miners are just some of the people whom we protect. It is our duty to defend all of Omniphrax. You will mostly do so by surveying the sky out here. If you spot an enemy glistership, you must report it immediately. There's a chance we'll be in for a battle." Sergeant Scythefang chuckled darkly. "Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you around the living quarters…"

The next couple of weeks were not enjoyable for Bron. All of the other apprentices were fascinated and eager, but Bron had no enthusiasm for his duties. He spent most of the day scanning the skies over the Phraxfields with the Twilight Privates. The only small consolation was that he was often stationed with Durix and Mord, whom he had grown very fond of. The three of them spent a lot of time laughing and joking, behavior which occasionally earned them harsh reprimands from Sergeant Scythefang.

"While you're chatting and having a grand old time, the enemy could well be approaching!" he shouted one day, after having caught them doing crude impressions of other apprentices. "Oftentimes, invading glisterships get the upper hand at the start of the battle, all because the scouts weren't paying attention! And if you expect to become officers, that sort of behavior will be unacceptable!"

With that, he stormed away. Bron, Durix, and Mord stared after him for several seconds. Then, Durix did an impression of Sergeant Scythefang, standing poker stiff and pulling grotesque faces. Bron and Mord roared with laughter. Nevertheless, they shortly resumed their search of the heavens, not wanting anything worse to happen. Yesterday, Lidd Rellitax had been confined to the barracks for talking back to the sergeant.

Aside from these moments, however, the routine was desperately dull. Bron found himself once more dwelling on his failed ambition. The very worst part was when Bron spotted a Pirate Academic's sky ship through his telescope. At these times, he couldn't help but imagine himself standing at the helm of that ship, soaring above those parts of the Deepwoods untouched by the Blight, perhaps battling a glistership or scavenging barkscrolls from a remote village.

These magnificent images often entered his dreams as he slept in his hammock in the barracks. On two occasions, a ratbird arrived at Bron's window, bearing a letter from Leris. Both letters had been full of sympathy and consolation, but this just made Bron feel worse. He wrote in his return messages that everything was fine, and that he was enjoying himself, but he had only written that to stop his grandmother's statements that she "wished things had turned out differently".

One day, Bron, Durix, and Mord were dutifully observing the sky. They were particularly wary of doing anything that might upset the Twilight Sergeant; the other day, Yorix Burnwheel had raised a false alarm, reporting a fleet of fifty glistervessels heading for Omniphrax, as a joke. Sergeant Scythefang had bellowed himself hoarse, and nobody had seen Yorix since; the rumor was that he had been dismissed. The tusked goblin was still fuming that morning, and Bron and his friends had decided that his temper was not to be tested.

Bron scanned the skies dully. It might be vital work, but it was surely the most boring job in the entire Edge. Nothing ever happened. Nothing ever changed. And nothing ever appeared in his telescope.

Except…

With a jolt, Bron sat bolt upright, rigid with shock. "What is it?" said Mord.

"I think there's something out there…yes, it's…"

Bron's stomach turned to ice. There was no mistaking the dreaded glistership. Easily as large as the Edgesaver, but far more menacing, white flames were pouring from the six propulsion ducts, and the glisterjets were pulsing with gleaming scarlet light.

"That's the…the…" Bron stammered.

"What?" demanded Durix, seizing his telescope and wildly gazing in every direction.

Bron leapt to his feet, sprinted across the platform, and pulled the purple lever next to the door. Instantly, a shrill, wailing klaxon blared, causing Twilight Privates on nearby platforms to jump with alarm and scan the sky frantically.

Sergeant Scythefang burst onto the platform, panting. "This had better be good," he growled.

"Sir…it's the Vilnix Pompolnius!" cried Bron.

Clearly, Sergeant Scythefang had not forgotten yesterday's incident, as his face showed nothing but anger and suspicion. "If this is another false alarm…" he stormed, shaking a threatening fist at Bron.

Sergeant Scythefang seized his own telescope and gazed in the direction Bron was pointing. The color drained from his face as he found the colossal glistership. "Earth below and Sky above!" he gasped.

Fumbling in his pocket, the tusked goblin drew out a key with a shaking hand. Inserting it in the lock next to the purple lever, he slid back a compartment to reveal a second lever, this one red. As he pulled this lever, a much louder alarm blared from every tower and gantry of Twilight's Edge, and the entire fortress sprang into action.

The voice of Thurt Grayle boomed out over the speakers. "Determine distance of enemy vessel," After a few seconds, an oakelf on a platform above Bron cried out, "Between 250,000 and 500,000 strides!" This figure was shortly confirmed by several more voices.

"We will need backup. Summon the Pirates Academic," boomed the voice of Thurt Grayle. "It looks as though we're in for another battle."