The Imperial Palace in Realmheart wasn’t so much a single structure or even a city block. No, it was an entire city by itself, spanning seventeen leagues at its widest. Sadeen once thought that the shape of the city was strange, especially when viewed from an airship. It wasn’t circular, square, rectangular, or any of the basic shapes often seen with other towns, villages, and cities in the Empire.

The Palace was an odd-looking blob with none of the streets going straight. It curved and whorled, sometimes winding up at deadends after spiraling up and down for a couple of longstrides. Tall walls, nearly fifty paces high and just as thick, separated major segments of the Palace. At the very centre was the Empress’ residence, which sported a sky-reaching tower that touched the Veil above. It also sank deep into the earth, and rumour had it that it touched the Veil underneath too. Nobody really knew, and the Pia-Vasi, the people who have the Imperial bloodline, were close-lipped.

From above, she could see large circles, squares, and rectangles all over the place, big enough to be clearly visible near two hundred paces up. Those were parks, marketplaces, monuments, and whatever else. Each of the spaces had a distinctive feature, though it was rarely the same as another. There were nearly a hundred of such spaces and each one was filled to the brim with people.

At the edges, the common folk lived and worked. Although calling them commoners was a bit of a stretch, Sadeen thought, since on any other plane, they would be considered nobles. Minor, but nobles.

People filled the streets. No landcrafters, just people walking. Or if they were leaving their district, taking one of the Circuit Trams. Night or day, the streets never emptied. If not people going about their day, there were patrols, pilgrims, and Celebrants of the Church doing their rituals.

The truly upper crust, like the Mishala Clan, were allowed personal airships, flying shuttles, or they use Battlewings to travel across the city. For Sadeen, it was a Cirrus Skiff that she conjured easily with a mere thought. The rich and dense ambient Chaos easily bent to her practised Will.

Her destination today was near the centre. Not at the Imperial Residence, of course, but at a dome nearby, where something of far more import resided. Few took to the skies, but any who did were a power in their own right. At least Knight-Commander level, Sadeen knew.

One such flier glanced at her, his eyes glazing as it crossed her countenance. Sadeen merely sniffed and the man regained his senses. His face paled and he gave her a short bow before descending beneath her altitude.

Crossing the seventeen leagues from outside the Palace to the Dome took only a few minutes. The wards glimmered brightly, though only to those who can see Chaos. To anyone else, it was merely a gold-covered building that had no entrances or exits at the ground level.

Sadeen’s skiff landed on the Welcome Balcony and dissipated as her feet touched the carpet. She ignored the Colossi, made of burnished jade-alloyed steel, kneeling on either side. These were war machines far stronger than the common kind, and would give even her a difficult time in a straight up fight. Well, not that she even fought directly anymore, not since she managed to inherit the Mishala Mien, and fully control it.

Through warded hallways, she walked, mindful to keep her eyes straight and away from the disconcerting patterns on the walls, the floors, and ceilings. The passage was short, and it opened to a large chamber so that if one thought to compare the building’s exterior and interior, they would come upon the unfortunate conclusion that it couldn’t be. The inside was bigger than the outside, or at least that was the impression. It wasn’t, not truly, but it was the impression it gave. Another thing to risk insanity for.

Golden threads covered the interior chamber’s space, filling it nearly to capacity. Jade green rods stood at odd intervals, with the threads touching them. Rods and hooks shifted, moving a thread here and there. Quite mundane to the naked eye, save for the brilliance of the material, of course. Opening Chaos Sight here would drive most people instantly insane, or cause their Animus to boil and burst, leaving an icky mess.

Sadeen was quite used to it already, having been brought here more than half a decade ago. Her first time had nearly driven her mad, but she was over it.

She walked the pathways that led deep into the skeins, following the proscribed patterns. The pathways changed every day, if not every hour or minute, though that was more a side-effect of the moving threads. Still, one could always find the proper path to the core, if one knew the secrets.

She bowed when she arrived, carefully averting her eyes from the figure reclined there. To look at her would be to risk everything that made someone themselves. And that was merely when the Progenitor didn’t mean to harm.

“My daughter, you’ve come again.”

The voice was smooth, melodious. Yet also sultry, with an undertone of seduction.

“Progenitor,” Sadeen whispered, “I ask if there is news.”

The Progenitor chuckled, and a shiver ran down Sadeen’s spine. She already loved the Mishala Matriarch with all her heart.

“None, as of now.” The Progenitor’s voice grew intrigued. “This daughter of yours is…interesting. At times, the Fateweaver Loom cannot see her, but I suppose that is only to be expected. She isn’t a Knight yet.”

“Not for years, I hope,” Sadeen said, “though if she received your Heritage…”

“No, I feel no connection. Well, I feel the echo of an echo. The Heritage is connected, but also not. Such a mystery.”

“I…yes.”

Sadeen shifted her feet. Her thoughts turned to the bounty they’ve put up. Ten million Sovereigns was but a drop in the ocean but she worried it might also tempt the wrong sort of people. After all, if Yuriko didn’t want to come with them to Realmheart, what would they do to force the issue? Still, it was the Progenitor who had spoken and she was the one bound to the Loom.

“Her presence grew fainter as the years came by, and disappeared entirely after the Ritual,” the Progenitor mused, speaking softly, though it still carried past the humming of the threads. “I wonder…”

A note resounded in the chamber. It wasn’t anything much different from what was already there, but Sadeen somehow felt its significance. So did the Progenitor, of course. A careless wave of her hand caused several threads to descend between them. Sadeen waited with bated breath for nearly an hour. The passing time, barely felt. At last, the threads returned to the heavens and the Progenitor spoke.

Sadeen bowed, and her heart raced.

_______

The first day aboard the Ebon Horizon, while it travelled through the Chaos Sea, was quite interesting. However, Yuriko underestimated how cramped the ship really was. It was larger than her house back in Faron’s Crossing, but after a few hours, it began to feel as if she was in a small box, and she couldn’t stretch her arms or legs out.

“It takes at least a day to cross a Waypoint,” Aunt Layla answered when Yuriko came across the woman in the mess hall for breakfast. “There are at least ten Waypoints between untethered planes. So, ten days to cross, and maybe a couple or so days to traverse from the next plane’s Chaos Channel or Tidelands, and back into the Chaos Sea.”

Layla rubbed her upper lip with her finger, “As it were, it’ll take fourteen weeks to reach Realmheart. Subjectively.”

“Time dilation?” Yuriko asked.

They hadn’t really tackled the matter in depth at the Academy, but it was common knowledge that time passed strangely in the Tidelands and the Chaos Sea.

“A twenty percent variance, fast and slow,” Layla replied.

“Is there anything to do on the ship?”

“A lot, yes. I’m quite busy making sure the Runescript Engine works properly. Failure would mean the ship would stop and drift. We’d be stricken with Chaos poisoning the moment we stop exerting our Will, not to mention being stranded away from the safe harbour of the planes.”

“Runescript Engine?”

“The core of the Ebon Horizon,” Layla said proudly. “Building the ship cost the Honeydew Company a pretty penny, let me tell you! But at least they knew not to skimp on the engine.” Layla patted Yuriko’s hand. “Would you like to see it?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Yuriko answered, quite eager to see more of the ship than her quarters or the mess hall. “Where are Riley and Aidan?”

“In the marines’ hold. They’re stuck there in rotation until we leave the Chaos.”

Apparently, a marine’s rotation was at least twelve hours and they were always there in pairs. There were four marines on board, though Yuriko hasn’t met the other two. After breakfast, Layla dragged her along to the engine room.

It was cramped. Barely enough room for the box-like thing in the middle, and space for a single person to walk around it. Copper and silver cables connected from nodular points on the box to the ceiling and walls. The ambient Chaos here was thick enough that Yuriko could feel her skin tingle. Opening Chaos Sight nearly blinded her from the glare.

“Heh heh!” A male voice chuckled. “She didn’t warn you, huh?”

Yuriko blinked away the inadvertent tears and looked towards the side, where a…scrawny…man fiddled around with a set of tools. He had silvery hair, a sickly pale complexion, but well-toned arms. He was wearing a sleeveless tunic, of all things, and baggy pants that were tucked into his boot tops. He looked about as old as Riley or Aidan.

“What are you loafing around for Christoph?” Layla groused. “Get back to tuning the connecting script!”

Christoph gave a sardonic bow.

“Of course exalted Chief Runeer, your will be done.” He winked and grinned at Yuriko just before he spun on his heels…and went to the other side of the box. Yuriko glanced at Layla, but the other woman only had her fists on her hips and muttered unintelligible words under her breath.

“Anyway, that was the Second Runeer. This is actually his first voyage on the Horizon.”

“Yes, but the trip’s lasted nearly a year already,” Christoph said. “I’m hardly a novice.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Layla grumbled, then whispered to Yuriko, “He’s a bit on the lazy side. A bit sloppy.”

“Hey, I made a deviation by a thousandth of an inch one time!”

“And that one corroded a connector!” Layla shot back. “The replacement cost three gold crowns and several hours of work!”

“I haven’t done it again!”

“No, but you forgot to tighten the ink bottles, you left your engraving pen loose on the table, and your penmanship is so sloppy it takes me a minute to read a single paragraph.”

“Nitpicks!”

“Oh, shush. You’ve got to be more careful!” Layla sniffed, “Otherwise, you’ll be stuck at that level your entire life.”

Chirstoph devolved into sour mutters. “Ah, where are my manners?” He said as he peeked from behind the Runescript Engine. “I am Christoph Sandmeier, Second Runeer of the Ebon Horizon.”

“Yuriko Mishala Davar.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Davar. I suppose you two are related. But...” He stroked his beardless chin. “No offence, Chief Runeer…”

“Then don’t say it,” Layla said bluntly. “Anyway, this is the main engine block of the Ebon Horizon. It takes in ambient Chaos and converts it into neutral Animus. Don’t let the plain exterior fool you, the internals are filled with runescript patterns and it's a great chore to make sure everything’s running smoothly. The main problem is that converting Chaos into usable Animus takes a toll on the lines. We have to renew the pattern practically every day, sometimes every couple of hours.”

“Otherwise?”

“Otherwise, things get worse.” Layla shrugged. “At least we only have to replace the reagents every couple of years or so.”

“You mean to tell me that we’re one bad runescript line away from the ship losing power? And we’ll be set adrift in the Chaos Sea?” Yuriko gulped.

“That’s right!” Christoph said cheerfully. “Heh, that’s why the Captain didn’t leave the Chief here behind!”

Layla just shrugged. “It's true, but we haven’t had a breakdown during our voyage yet. On this one, anyway,” she muttered under her breath.

“I thought this was one of the better engines?” Yuriko asked faintly.

“It is. That’s why we’re able to risk untethered planes.”

She proceeded to explain how the engine worked, though Yuriko didn’t have the foundations to understand anything beyond a superficial level. As far as she understood, ambient Chaos goes in, Animus comes out and it powers the other runescript patterns on the ship, which in turn propelled them across the Sea and created a protective bubble so that they don’t die of Chaos poisoning.

All of that hinged on the Engine working properly, and that one relied entirely on the shoulders of her aunt. And an untried and unreliable boy.

Yuriko was beginning to wish that she waited until she was a Knight before leaving. At least then she wouldn’t die if something went wrong.

That’s life, though. Damien said.

‘Quiet! You’re wasting Radiant energy!’ Yuriko shot back. His return chuckle did nothing to soothe her worries. But what else could she do?