“You didn’t bow to them properly. I think the fact you were clearly an unbeliever in their eyes was just more reason they took a dislike to you.” It wasn’t his fault. I hadn’t actually mentioned to him about their custom of bowing according to station, I had grown up interacting with Yamania culture and just took that sort of thing for granted.

I should have been clued in when they had made him sit through the whole of their sermon for unbelievers. That should have told me they would be extra touchy, as they especially didn’t tolerate what they would deem as insolence when he didn’t respond properly.

I looked at the coin that the priestess had tossed me and flicked it to Neil who fumbled it and had to pick it off the deck before it rolled under a console.

“Consider that being your hardship pay for dealing with those… self-absorbed ninnies.” I grumbled.

We flew in silence, soaring back up to our cruising altitude. A cold front buffeted the Sweetwind and I carefully tried to keep her as level as possible, using only the rudder to assist. Luckily the tailwind it provided made up for lost time and it wasn’t long before I turned the ship to follow the coast that was now in view. The seas were steadily filling with trade vessels, fishing ships from various costal villages and a few warships on patrol.

The great ridgeback mountains ran down the coast, cutting off into sheer white cliffs and rocky beaches. The low-lying hills were filled with lush undergrowth and beyond them I could see the green stretching for miles until it thinned out in the distance to a brown haze of the great Hattrack expanse.

Neil was glued to my spyglass, tracking all of the local traffic, asking short, excited questions as I described the lands of Mageos to him. Several small airships passed us on a Sothern heading, their sails furled as they powered up against our tailwind. Greetings were exchanged and I waved to the small patrol ships as they banked side to side in a friendly salute.

The colossal sprawl of Bagliona began at the foot of an expansive floodplain, surrounded by giant dikes to keep the water out. Even from this height I could seen the spinning windmills that constantly pumped back the sea from the lowlands. The sky around the city was filled with all manner of flying creatures and airships. The port was swarming with ships.

I saw a massive war fleet anchored out in the bay, and I shuddered. Mageos, like the rest of Prime was preparing for massive conflict. It was near-bedlam out there. The sheer scale of activity was difficult for me to gauge accurately.

Gigantic war machines were visible even from this height as they were loaded aboard their transport ships in preparation for the voyage north. If it was one thing that Mageos was renowned for, it was their artificers. If the great artificer engines were being sent towards war than things had gotten quite serious.

My approach was long and slow as I followed the port committee’s instructions as they flashed at me, the behemoth lenses of their heliographs tracking Sweetwind as they directed me into a holding pattern. I gritted my teeth with every shuddering turn I had to make until after nearly an hour I was directed to the Messenger’s Guild and the extensive aerodrome it sat next to. Many other small skiffs were clustered around hangers, repair yards and docking cradles. I turned towards the repair yards, using my rudder to slowly turn the ship as I tried to ignored the pings and pops from the mounting. Signaling for a repair team from the ground crew I flashed back at the field tower with my bow heliograph and they directed me to an empty repair cradle as it was slowly wheeled out of a nearby hanger.

With expert hands I danced across my control board, shunting power and slowly falling down towards the waiting cradle. The cradle enclosed around my hull and I gave a final sigh of relief and patted the steering column, silently thanking Sweetie for holding together long enough to make it.

A man in grungy yellow coveralls ascended the side of the cradle and pounded on my bow hatch with a large pipe wrench waving to me. I beamed at him, recognizing the scoundrel.

Unlatching the hatch, I stepped back as he poked his face up and stared in astonishment at Neil and laughed. “I didn’t know you picked up strays Becca!” I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.

“You of all people Costas be one to talk!” I pointed down at his ground crew which mostly consisted of reformed street kids, and a few fresh from the academy apprentices.

“Oh, you know, the press gangs keep taking all my good ones these days.” He grumbled. Looking up at me he pointed in the direction of my ballast.

“I could hear you long before I could see you I swear, when I tell you to replace your mountings you better do it. I’m grounding your ship until you get that thing fixed!” He snarled at me and I rolled my eyes.

“If I had the coin to do it last time I would have. It would have been fine if I hadn’t wrenched it badly fighting a wyvern.” I boasted and he squinted skeptically at me.

“In this wreck? It’s almost four centuries old at least!” He roared with laugher and I glared back at him. Even he should know better than to belittle my ship in front of me.

“I keep telling you, just sell her and get a new ship! I know a guy…” He trailed off as one of his ground crew called out to me and I nodded and lowered the bow cargo ramp. I had to offload my cargo first.

I watched as a customs inspector ran out from his cozy office in the hanger and onto the field, trailing a string of his own minions with him.

“Stay here Neil, I be going to settle my deliveries first and get them sent off. Everything is already a few days late.” I rushed down into the ship, and spent the next hour offloading my deliveries under the watchful gaze of the customs inspector. The ground crews from the guildhall carted everything off in carefully guarded and watched carts and I winced at the summons I had been given to appear before a penalty board as expected, it also incorporated my prize court determination.

I also had to send for the adjudicator and log in the gear I had recovered from the downed wyvern rider. Giving my oath over a stone that I had sealed and not tampered with the prize goods, meaning the saddle and all of its contents. I was lucky that they didn’t intend to adjudicate what I had gotten off the carcass itself. They carried off the gear, and I had to go into the hanger office and give witness statements. Afterwards, I went back and fetched Neil.

“Follow me, and don’t talk to anyone.” I instructed him and we marched for the colossal stone messenger hall on the far side of the aerodrome. The building was a towering fortress of ivory stone flying the messenger’s seal from every tower. Waves of artificer devices rolled, crawled or flew from it, horses rode to and from it and far above flying creatures streaked into its massive upper story eyries.

The Bagliona Messenger’s Guild was one of the largest in prime, and was also home to one of the most prestigious branches of the Academy Aeronautica, the foremost flyers college on the continent. The nearby academy was where most of Mageos flyers were trained on various beasts, airships, and even dragons.

I steered Neil through the coursing bedlam with practiced ease as I made my way towards the register’s hall. We entered a long line of cubicles where many young lads and lasses were wearing the academy uniform and taking their fist oaths into the guild. Their sponsors, or their commanders were forming them up and calling out names.

Blinking in confusion, I realized what time of the year I had landed and nearly laughed. It was end of term for the academy. This could be a long wait. All around us the newest class of the academy was eying Neil with curious gazes, as they realized why I was leading him towards the sign in desk.

My own flyer’s jacket was decorated with Sweetwind’s patch and they could clearly see my captain’s insignia. The sheer amount of envy in their eyes as they glanced with hatred at Neil told me all I needed to know.

“Like I said… definitely don’t’ talk to anyone.” I chuckled and wondered just how many of these kids here in the hall were looking for a berth or a mount, or were going to be in the upcoming qualifications. Most of them would happily kill to be in Neil’s place.

Neil, didn’t understand any of the looks, but he did see the hostile glances and the clenched fists and kept his head down, and eyes from making contact. I watched his cowering and wanted to kick him, tell him to stand up straight and walk proud, but refrained from doing so in the presence of so many watchful eyes.

Grumbling to myself darky about how much paperwork I was about to fill out, I signed in at the desk and pulled him over to the waiting seats as the uniformed academy graduates treated him like the plague. They hopped out of the nearby seats, sneering at him and whispering to each other darkly.

I gave them my best captain’s glare and they withered under it. The murmuring around us quickly abandoned any attention to Neil as they waited in nervous silence for their own names to be called. “What’s up with them, who are they?” Neil whispered to me as he eyed the scene around him in confusion.

“Academy brats! don’t mind them, it’s just Mageos culture. They tend to think here in Bagliona and other Mageos cities that you need fancy education and paperwork to be a flyer. Utter rubbish! Especially since you’re a magi.”

He looked around in surprise and I grinned at him. “You mean they aren’t?” I shook my head.

“Most of them aren’t magi, they will be crew or officers, or if they have creature affinities they will be rider qualified on something.” I said and pointed to the different types of insignia on their uniforms.

“Their uniforms have patches on them, indicating their specialty, mechanician, piloting, or other types of skill sets. You can see that none of them have ship patches, or wing insignia, etc. Most of them are here to try to get registered into the messenger’s guild. Some are just here to sign up for their qualification exams or whatnot and will likely get scooped up by the Mageos Air Corps.”

His eyes widened and he stared at me. “So… you mean that you taking me on as an apprentice…” He trailed off as realization dawned on him just how lucky he was.

“Yep, the small messenger airships run by the wind folk rarely take on apprentices, it’s a real honor to get chosen. Not that many of us will put up with those little snots.” I chuckled.

I bitterly remembered my own treatment by academy kids when I was younger. They had hated me too for my own apprenticeship with my mother, despite the fact that I had been born to the wind folk.

I had gotten the crap kicked out of me by a group of them when I wandered off from a tour of the Academy Aeronautica. The incident had left me with a broken rib, and a nose that had to be fixed by a healer. My parents had been furious, but I had refused to tell them any details about the attack, as I was ashamed and embarrassed at losing a fight to a bunch of groundhoppers. They had quickly abandoned any hope of foisting me off on the academy for a few seasons.

“Um… word of warning. Just stick with me and don’t wander off under any circumstances.” I said and he nodded as he wilted away from the gaze of a steely eyed girl who was glaring at him from across the aisle. She huffed at Neil and turned her back to murmur to an older youth who gave Neil a venomous sneer. I looked at their insignia. Both of them were Griffin riders, qualified flyers with their own mounts. I saw how they both sat separate from their group and chatted with others from their own training wing.

“Captain Rebecca Marshall and Probationary Apprentice Neil!” I heard the clerk call out, and the chatter around us died as crowd exchanged my name and I winced. I did have a bit of a reputation.

The fact that I flew a skiff by myself for the past two years had been a source of constant wonder and gossip. It was almost unheard of, sure there were a few soloists but none as young as I was.

As we stood up to leave, a tall man who was riding herd over the new graduates strode over to us and hailed me. “Captain Marshall! So, you are still flying about in that old tub of yours… I thought I saw it limping into the repair cradle again.” The man sneered at me as I clenched my fists and glared at him.

“Wing Leader Stefano, so how is the new crop of brats this year?” I got out through gritted teeth. My expression was pained as he gestured towards the filled seats around us.

“The finest class we have turned out yet!” He beamed at his graduates and I rolled my eyes. “Well then as usual it’s a pleasure to meet Mageos’s finest.” I plastered a strained smile on my face as I looked over the crowd with and my gaze settled once again on the pair of griffin riders that had snubbed Neil.

They didn’t dare act out of turn in front of their minder, but I saw the disapproval for both me and my new apprentice written across their faces. “And you two are?” I asked with a grin on my face. They both shot up to attention and sounded off. “Cadet Natasha Yard!” The girl sounded off in a tense voice and the other youth clenched his jaw and hesitated for a second before he gave his own name.

“Cadet Mark Wilder Mam!” He called out and I waved my hand at them in dismissal. “No need for all that posh with me, I’m not from the academy, and I’m a civilian! You two can relax.” I said easily and it felt odd to think that I was barely older than they were and they had to address me as a ranking officer.

“You on your exams?” I asked jovially, giving them a wide smile. They both nodded stiffly and I turned back to the Wing Leader. “I’m going to be laid up for a while, perhaps I’ll watch the qualification exams. Are any other of my folk in the yard?” I watched the grimace quickly hidden in a strained smile that didn’t reach his lips as he nodded.

“There are a few independents on the field, I think I saw Argos and Fortunate touch down together a few hours ago. Yes, I think we can arrange for you and… your apprentice to attend the qualification exams as an observer.”

“Good, would be a pleasure.” I nodded to the two griffin riders and walked away, steering Neil towards a very impatient clerk who was glaring at us and tapping his foot.