Leviathans - Technomagical Fantasy (Novel, First 5 Chapters)

The art for this set of chapters was provided by a close friend of mine, the wonderfully talented Kalhens, who you can find on Instagram over at: https://www.instagram.com/kalhens/

Leviathans. Stories have been told about the mythical creatures for generations. Some insist they exist to preserve the world. Others say they will rise to destroy it. Most agree they don’t exist. Recruited from a young age to be a techno-mage, a member of the specialized guilds that repair and maintain all magic-driven technology, Rayne was ostracized for her distant and distracted nature. Her brilliance, however drew her under the wing of one of the Master Techno-mages.

Years later, while working on one of the colossal towers that fed the city below with magic, Rayne’s eyes find one of the mythical Leviathans. Chased out of the City of her birth for reasons she doesn’t understand, while carrying a mysterious gem given to her by the Master she trusts, Rayne and her close friend Lucy escape to the skies in an airship. Now free to explore the world and discover its secrets, Rayne and Lucy seek to solve the riddles left in the wake of a creature that can’t exist.

0

Hanging from one of the city’s floating towers, she looked out towards the swirling mass of a sand storm. The spirals of the storm’s geometry were blurred by the distance, the billowing mass lit up here and there by gigantic arcs of lightning. She paused in her work for a moment, her gloved hands finding the ropes that held her safely in the air. The ropes thrummed with the movement of the machinery within the tower, and the vertical stone face she rested her feet on hummed along with them. She sighed and wiped the thick layer of grime off her face as she leaned back into her harness, patting some of the sand off of herself. The granules ran off the thick leather-and-fur coat that protected her against the surprisingly cold wind.

As she moved her arms she could feel the thin coils sewn into the jacket’s lining, and imagined that she could see the magic that served to keep her from overheating running through them. Her eyes wandered down to the city below her. The squat mass of buildings spread along the split mesa looked tiny from her vantage point. People flowed along the streets like tiny ants following some unseen force.

The wind bit into the skin of her face and blew a long stray lock of raven-black hair away from her head, specks of sand ricocheting off her goggles. She muttered her annoyance and redid her ponytail as the wind hit a lull. While briefly considering the option of cutting her hair short, she rested her hands on one of the metallic conduits that snaked up the tower. She could feel the deep chill of the raw magic through the insulated tubing. Thankfully it was always dry in the desert, otherwise they would need to clear the ice off frequently.

Her gaze wandered downward. One of the best things about being this far up was the view. The sand-swept stone and wood making up the homes and businesses surrounding the open marketplaces nearly lost in the mass of bodies. She followed the streets with her eyes. The homes lit up one by one as the sun began to end its dance across the sky.

She knew that if she waited long enough, the streets would begin to look like burning veins against the blackness of night. As she looked at the city, she found the start of one of the four chains that anchored the tower. It looked small, but she knew that if she followed the links to where they connected to one of the tower’s sides, roughly in the middle, they would be larger than she was across. Her focus shifted upwards, towards the sky.

Clouds spiraled into the top of the storm, the wall of sand advancing across the dunes. Again she could see lighting dancing within it. It was an awesome display. The brilliantly colored and tightly grouped alsamari, the skyfish that normally filled the air and were as varied as their oceanic namesake were nowhere to be seen. Bright purples and oranges bled out from the horizon into deep blue. She could see Airships painted by the colors of the setting sun.

Some of the vessels were sleek and angular, like the ships that sailed the seas, meant for slicing through the air. Usually, their crews hunted the alsamari. Others were rounder at the edges and made for carrying larger loads of cargo. Usually salt and a myriad of different kinds of stone. The only two features the airships all truly shared were the balloon that floated over each one, keeping them aloft against the inexhaustible forces that pulled them downwards and the great blades of the propellers which served to drive them onwards.

She looked at the tower directly in front of her, running her hand along its pockmarked surface. The stone and metal, stained and battered by the desert, holding within the main charge of the City’s Technomage Guild. Energy generators that ran off of wind, converting even the awesome power of the building sandstorm into magic that could be used by the people below. She suddenly realized that she hadn’t been doing anything for the past few minutes.

One deep breath and a gulp of water later and she was back to work. Her place in the guild depended on her ability to figure out what was wrong with the tower – one of five that provided power for the city. It was proving to be much more difficult than she had imagined. Her stomach rumbled. She’d been hanging here, hundreds of feet above the sprawling city for hours.

The approaching storm only made things worse. If she was still up here when it hit, she would need to wait until the guild could send someone after her while she hid inside the tower. She laughed out loud. “Like they’d even send someone after me” she voiced, shaking her head.

“Hey knucklehead, haven’t figured it out yet?” asked a familiar voice from above her. “No, Lucy, I haven’t. Whoever last inspected the tower didn’t even put down any observations. I’ve had to go over everything, just in case.” The other girl, strapped into her own harness, rappelled down the sheer vertical surface until she was level. “That… Might’ve been me. Sorry Ray.” She answered sheepishly. Lucy’s straight blond hair was locked into a tight braid. Rayne knew Lucy preferred her hair down, so that it could frame delicate features. Lucy’s goggles, their design mirroring Rayne’s, obscured her orange irises.

Rayne was always amazed at how easily Lucy navigated the mass of anchors, wires, and conduits that were set into the tower. Lucy was tall and lithe, seemingly incapable of the strength she had to possess to move with such natural confidence.

Rayne sighed, a slight smile on her face. “I know. Do you have any idea what this could be? The geezers sent me out here without even telling me what was wrong. Took me an hour to find out.” she said, tapping two fingers against her forehead as she thought. “At first I thought it might’ve been the conduits, but they’re within regulation and the sphere itself was tested two days ago. It’s fine too” She continued, seeing the runic capacitor commonly called the sphere in her mind’s eye.

At first glance it would appear like a ball of intricately carved metal, straight lines and curves all over its surface, rotating smoothly. If you looked more closely, you would find large holes set into the metal, and could see into it and to the other layers underneath, seemingly identical but for their size. If the holes in each layer lined up, as they often did, you would see the writhing mass of ethereal magic in the center. It was an amazing sight. She realized that it might cause confusion, to call it a “sphere” when there was another component that was traditionally called the conversion sphere. People tended to call that the convertor instead. Rayne shook her head as she realized her friend was staring at her, waiting.

Lucy smiled “always lost in the clouds huh?” she chided lightly, and Rayne shrugged before looking towards the storm. “Literally, if we don’t get this done soon.” She responded. Lucy frowned as she looked at the mass of metal conduits obscuring the sand-colored stone in front of her. “There was wear on some of the gears on the lower face, but I submitted a request for those to be replaced. Have you taken a look down there yet?”

“No. I was hoping to avoid it. We both know it’s dangerous to check.” Rayne commented. “Nothing for it though. It’s the one place left. Let’s get going fast before the storm hits. It looks bad.”

“They’ve been getting worse every month.”

The two girls descended, the thick ropes suspending them above the city creaking as they swayed from side to side. The leather harness pulled tight against her jacket and her thick brown pants as Rayne came to a stop near the place where one of the massive chains she had seen earlier connected to the tower. She followed it with her eyes as it arced downwards and away. They anchored the structure to the city below. Thick cables ran along the chains, supplying the energy collected by the tower to those with enough money to pay for it. She looked out at the city, her harness groaning a complaint as she twisted against it.

The chasm below her sliced the city in two, leaving a deep gash across her vision. She saw the other four towers. Floating at their places above the city, wind rushing through the great blades set in their faces to power the arcane machinery inside. Rayne could hear the dull whomp whomp whomp of the ones above her when the wind permitted. The conduits that wrapped around the towers bunched up to look like a shiny metal cap at the bottom of each of them, thinning out towards the top. Each of the constructs was a testament to the Guild’s understanding of what they called Runic Technology. A mixture of magic and science.

The rest of the city now, lit either by oil lamps or the energy generated by the towers, sprawled out to either side of the chasm. The city sat, looking almost like it was hunched against the oncoming storm. From up here, she couldn’t even see the dust and grime that covered most of the buildings. She knew that beneath the layer of accumulated filth most of the city was built with pristine white stone, colored glass, and shining metal. The angular shapes of the buildings fit neatly into each other. Some square, some crosses, others large L shapes. Some had courtyards, some had a second story. They would have been beautiful, once. But now, the stones were gray, the glass was yellowed, and the metal was rusting.

Docks thrust themselves into the chasm. Flying machines held up by gasses that were lighter than air, with the help of magic, tied to them. Rayne imagined she could see the workers who even now had to have been climbing all over their hulls, securing them against the rushing wind by bringing them into warehouses. Earlier, she had seen a school of skyfish fly past, chased by a particularly adventurous airship and her crew.

She turned her attention back to the tower above her. Lucy was already ahead. Rayne unlimbered a set of hooks. She quickly found the lines that ran underneath the structure and attached her harness to them, unhooking herself from the line that ran down the side of the tower afterwards. She used her grapple to pull herself forward using anchors that were set into the tower’s underside.

The two girls navigated the mass of tubing until it suddenly turned upwards into the structure, leaving the rest of the face bare. Rayne caught up to Lucy, who was staring up at a set of revolving gears. Or she would have been if they were there.

“I told them that this would happen if they didn’t replace these. They never listen to me.” Lucy groaned, a mixture of annoyance and worry on her face. Rayne examined the empty space, the gears on one side spinning freely. It looked like this is what was causing the tower to not generate any power. They would need to climb back up, to disable the tower from within and avoid unnecessary wear.

Rayne pat her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. They don’t like me either. Well, maybe two of them do.” She shook her head. “There’s no way we can fix this without bringing up an entirely new set. Let’s get it shut down and then leave. We don’t have long before it gets dangerous.”

“Yeah let’s get out of here.” Lucy answered, still pouting. The girls advanced back towards the edges, transferring themselves back to one of the tower’s faces. They clambered upwards along the web of conduits, one anchor to the next, towards a trap door in the side of the tower. The small wooden square opened easily on oiled hinges, clanging against one of the conduits to the side. Rayne pulled herself into the icy darkness inside, and then extended a hand back outwards to help Lucy.

The two girls stood in a narrow passageway. Stone flanked them on either side. The chains holding the magic-powered lanterns to the ceiling creaked above them. The soft yellow light illuminated a diagram set into the wall at the end of the hallway. Rayne pulled her goggles up, her breath fogging up in the air in front of her. Her nose was already going numb. Rayne pulled up a glove, revealing a small gauge sewn into the cuff of her jacket.

Rayne adjusted the temperature control upwards, and after a few moments her jacket began to warm up. She tucked her pants into the work boots she wore, and pulled at what began as an exposed coil on the front of her jacket. It extended, and she connected it to a coil that stuck up from the leggings underneath her pants. She gave a sigh of relief as her legs started to warm up.

Lucy followed her example, adjusting her temperature as well. She pulled her goggles off completely and hung them from a hook on her belt. “I always hate coming in here, it’s always too cold.” She complained, the puff of ice crystals from her speech filling the air in front of her.

Always eerie, too Rayne thought, the echoes of her footsteps competing with the deep thrum that permeated the tower. The mass of cabling and tubing that stretched across the walls haphazardly only added to the sensation of being underground. They reached the diagram, a map of the innards of the stone construct they were in. They examined it for a minute or so. “Here it is.” Lucy pointed at a circular space. “The control room.” She said, the words on the diagram confirming her statement.

They moved quickly, wanting to be done as quickly as possible. It would only take a minute or two to reach the control room, and then another couple to shut down the tower. “Stop” Rayne said suddenly, holding out an arm. Something was wrong, she could feel it somehow. One of the conduits had caught her eye. “What?” Lucy asked, “let’s go, I want to get out of here” She groaned wearily, pausing. “That conduit, it’s going to burst.” Rayne pointed.

Lucy examined it from as close as she dared. “It looks fine to me, Ray. Come on.” She said, pushing past Rayne. “Lucy no, wait!” Rayne warned, as the conduit she was looking at bulged outwards as her friend passed in front of it. Rayne dove on top of Lucy, hoping her coat would protect her. A hollow pop sounded, followed by an eruption of magic. The jet slammed into Rayne’s back, instantly freezing the outer layers of her jacket before the conduit sealed itself.

She rolled back over off of Lucy. “Listen next time.” She chided, the ice now on her back cracking against the floor. She felt the cold through her coat as Lucy sat up, looking at Rayne sheepishly. “Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re miss ‘in tune with the machinery’” Lucy answered, and Rayne aimed a half-hearted punch at her arm. She didn’t like it when people said that. It made her feel like they were saying she was more machine than person.

A few minutes later, after pulling the correct levers, and retreating back to the entrance they had used, they listened to the dying thrum of the giant blades above them. “Time to go” Lucy said, as she hooked herself back onto the safety line that ran outside and dropped outwards. Rayne followed suit, and they headed towards one of the chains.

They would need to go down one at a time, and while Lucy transferred herself to the rope that would let her descend Rayne searched the skies. She looked off at the clouds. Or what she could see of them anyway. The light of day had died, and the sky was lit by constellations as well as by Iva, Shia, and Mia, the three moons. She looked over towards the storm. It was much closer now, she realized. They would need to move fast. Rayne looked back up at the clouds.

She was imagining what it must be like to soar above them like a bird when she saw it. It was huge. Way too big to be real. Rayne blinked, and the massive… She couldn’t describe it. A deep breath filled her lungs, and she leaned outwards to try and get a better look, without the conduits blocking her view. She pulled out a set of binoculars and brought them to her face. She vaguely heard Lucy asking her what she was doing. It sounded urgent, but Rayne blocked the thought.

Her breath caught in her chest as she found what she was looking for. It looked almost like a massive whale but with three pairs of insect-like wings. It appeared to undulate across the sky, just for a moment. Its stone body looked dull, and in disrepair. Leviathan. She didn’t think they were real. The storm reached it, but it seemed to remain unaffected by the winds as it sunk back above the clouds. She was completely dumbstruck. They weren’t supposed to be real. “stories for children” he had said.

Rayne leaned forward trying to get a better look, her eyes locked onto where it had disappeared . “Rayne no!” Lucy’s voice finally broke through her concentration. Rayne had less than a second to realize she had leaned too far. Her words were lost in a scream as she flipped upside down, all but one of her hooks coming undone.

She grabbed wildly, managing to grasp the rope that ran along the chain. Some of her tools spilled out of where they were stored. “No no no!” Rayne breathed quickly, trying and failing to grab them as they spiraled into the chasm below.

“Give me your hand Ray! Your hand!” Lucy screamed, her arm extended. Rayne reached for her, and a minute or so later she was right-side up again. “Are you crazy?” Lucy asked breathlessly. “What? No! I saw something up in the clouds.”

“What, Rayne? What could you possibly have seen that made you almost fall to your death?”

“I… I saw a Leviathan. “

Lucy’s expression became touched with fear, and she shook her head.

“You could get exiled for saying that Ray, or worse. You know that. Let’s just get out of here. We need to tell the Guild Masters what’s wrong with this tower.”

“I’m serious Lucy, I saw one.”

“Right, Ray. And this is the last of the storms. Drop it.” Lucy finished. Her tone made it clear the conversation was over. To say that you had seen a leviathan was worse than blasphemous to the Exarch.

The rest of the time they spent slowly moving down the chain was uneventful. Rayne lamented her lost tools. Most of them were the Guild’s property. They would be taken out of her pay. The rest she had made herself. It would be a while before she had the money she needed to make them again. She tried to push the Leviathan out of her mind.

A myth in flesh. But that’s all they were said to be. Myth. Anyone disagreeing with that view in her city was handled… aggressively. She sighed, picking up the pace. She wanted to be over and done with her duties as quickly as possible.

They walked through the city. The few people that still walked the streets did so in an almost furtive rush, with not so much as a glance in their direction. The wind was much hotter now that the two of them weren’t suspended above the city. The storm was close now, and Rayne’s goggles were firmly affixed to her face, her hood up against the abrasive sensation of the granules that rode the gusts.

She walked more slowly than she should have, Lucy trying her best to speed up their pace. Rayne liked walking around the city at night. The emptiness was soothing. She looked around. Lit windows surrounded them. Sounds of laughter and the scent of food filled the air. She looked almost longingly through the windows at the families inside, and then pushed down the feeling. She took longer steps.

An hour or so later, Rayne was in front of the largest of the city’s buildings. The octagonal structure reached ten stories into the air, and since it was the only one above four it was quite a bit bigger than its competition. A large moat separated what Rayne could only think of as “the tower” from the rest of the city.

It was accessible only on one side by a bridge, and by a small dock on the ninth floor. The bottom half of the fence was stone and the top half seemed to be the only iron in the city that wasn’t rusting. The fence, nearly a barricade, stood tall around the moat. The sign above the heavy studded wooden gate reading “Magi Mechanicus”.

Rayne thought it was pretentious. Still, she knew it was impressive. The Guild was not a political entity, per-se. However, when the person who kept every piece of technology in your city functioning told you something, you tended to listen. Most of the population called them technomages. Not that she felt too many of the things they did qualified as “magic”.

Sure, she had seen it before. Older members of the guild conjuring fire out of thin air, or channeling lightning. It was said that ages ago, before the great wars, master mages were capable of bringing forth massive thunderstorms, gigantic waves of water. Everything that she had seen other people do felt like cheap tricks by comparison. The only things she could say had truly taken her by surprise were the mechanical arms that the Guild Masters used occasionally.

“Come on Ray, I want to get home before the storm hits.” Lucy said, almost dragging her friend over the bridge. “Yeah. Sorry.” The two girls crossed the threshold into the Guild tower, a wall of cooler air meeting them. The entire tower had temperature control. The deep red stone that made up the floor of the wide open atrium was streaked with orange and yellow.

Ahead of them was a desk. A brown-skinned man sat behind it, flipping through the pages of a book. He glanced at Rayne and Lucy, and motioned them forwards. “Identifications?” He asked, and Rayne groaned “you know who we are, Kai.” She complained.

“Hello to you too, Rayne.” He sighed, looking over at Lucy, who held out a small card with her picture on it. “at least one of you follows protocol” he muttered, looking at it briefly before returning it. “Busy day?” Lucy asked, and Kai shrugged. “Not as much as you’d expect with a storm. Not even one person came in wanting something fixed. It was all routine checks. Tomorrow will be a different story though.” Came his answer. “Sounds like a good thing to me” Lucy smiled, as Rayne looked at the floor. Kai smiled back, the lines in his face crinkling, “Yes, I –“

“Talk to you later, Kai. Have to go give a report” Rayne interrupted, pulling at Lucy’s sleeve. Kai’s smile turned to a frown as Lucy tried to apologize over her shoulder as she walked. Rayne continued to pull her friend away. Lucy’s exasperated voice filling the air. Rayne felt a tinge of jealousy as Lucy looked back at Kai and waved. She did her best to ignore it. They started to climb the stairs, moving past the work rooms on the lower floors, the repair shops, the apprentice quarters, and finally the permanent living areas. Eventually, at the top of the tower, the passed into a waiting room.

A lush carpet decorated the floor and single ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling high above them, with other light sources spread throughout. Comfortable chairs lined the walls, small tables in between them. For those who were waiting for an audience. The two girls walked along the carpet, towards the one door. They stood in front of it, with a man off to one side of the entrance. “ ’ey Rayne. Lucy. You two’re filthy.” the man grinned, waving. “ ‘ere to give your report, yeh?” he asked, his familiar accent colored with humor.

“Yeah. They said they wanted it in person, so here we are. And I’ll shower later Oliver, screw off.” Rayne responded, Lucy shook her head at their familiar banter. Oliver was one of the few people Rayne had warmed up to somewhat.

“Alright. I’ll let the Masters know you’re here.” The dark-skinned man chuckled, scratching at the stubble that was growing in on his face.

He opened the door, and went inside. Rayne looked over at Lucy. “You know they’re going to make us go back up there to fix it.” Lucy shrugged. “Not with this storm coming. We’d both die. Just make sure not to tell them you think you saw a Leviathan or they’ll need to report you. You could get the brand.” Rayne glared at her friend. “I saw what I saw Lucy.” Lucy sighed as the door opened again to allow them in. “whatever you say Ray.”

They walked inside slowly, reverently. Whatever Rayne thought of the Guild Masters, they were the reason she wasn’t dead. And if she wanted to stay that way, she had to keep them content with her existence. Oliver sat at a desk to the side of the room. He was the Guild’s scribe. He recorded every meeting with the Masters as they happened. He pulled out an ornate fountain pen, a single black feather sprouting from it, tested it against the paper once or twice, and nodded to the five men sitting behind a large metal table. The Guild Masters.

They were all old. The youngest was in his mid fifties. The oldest in his late sixties. As had happened every time she was in this room, Rayne found herself admiring its aesthetics. A thick circular rug sat in the center of the room. It was covered in geometric designs of all kinds, and in many different colors. She was entranced by the table. It’s angles were so precise, its curves so beautiful. Carvings adorned it, ancient symbols of the technomages. It’s dark wood seemed to shine with a soft, otherworldly glow in the light of the room. The men, who wouldn’t have looked ordinary no matter where they sat, absolutely dominated the room.

The one on the far left had a thick shock of silvery hair. His violet eyes in stark contrast with his ebony skin. He wore a cloak of thick velvet embossed with the guild’s symbol. A golden spark rushing across a night sky. His thick arms were crossed in front of his bare chest.

The one beside him was a gaunt-faced elder. The youngest of the Masters, though he certainly didn’t look it. The man’s high cheekbones and flighty eyes did nothing to betray his immense intellect. His dark eyes appeared to be sunken into his face thanks to deep bags underneath them. The Guild’s symbol found itself as a patch on his right sleeve.

The man on the far right was of a different sort. He seemed to have a permanent smile on his face, like someone who knew that no matter what happened they would come out the victor. His brownish skin was dull in the light. Never losing his smile as he smoothed out the symbol on each of his gloves.

The man directly to his side seemed to not even be paying attention to the proceedings. He was muttering to himself, constantly scribbling… or was it drawing? In a small notebook in front of him. He glanced up for a moment, smiling at Rayne before going back to what he was doing. The man looked very frail, his clothes almost too big for him. Rayne knew that he carried the Guild’s symbol on the back of his buttoned shirt.

The man in the center, however, commanded most of her attention. He seemed to emanate an aura of power and intimidation that overshadowed all the rest. He looked sternly at the two girls in front of him. The Guild crest was tattooed over his heart. He was the Guild Leader in truth, and he sat at the head of his council.

“The tower, girl?” he asked, and Oliver scribbled. “The tower itself is operable. Conduits are within regulation, as is the Conversion Sphere. The Runic capacitor has minor wear, but is otherwise fine. The problem has been narrowed down to a missing set of gears on the underside of the tower. I was told that replacements were requested but have yet to be provided, sir. We shut down the tower as a precaution against further damage” Rayne answered, looking above the man’s head.

“I see. So, the tower is currently nonfunctional?” asked the man with the permanent smile. “Yes” answered Lucy a little shakily, standing stock still. She was always nervous around the Guild Masters. To be fair, most people were. “This will not do. It must be repaired before the advent of the storm. The heavy winds involved will produce a large quantity of energy. We must send them back at once with replacements.” Said the gaunt-faced one.

“Impossible. You would be sending them to their deaths. We all know that even taking to the streets during a Sand storm is inadvisable. Much less attempting a climb to one of the towers.” Said the one with violet eyes.

“Hmph. I concur. The tower will stay as it is for now. We will send out a warning to those affected by its malfunction to not expect it to be repaired until the storm has passed. You both are dismissed.” The Guild Leader said with a wave of his hand. Oliver quickly stood to escort the both of them out of the room.

Immediately after ushering them outside, Oliver waved them away with a smile, and closed the door behind them. “That was shorter than I thought it would be” said Lucy with a yawn. “You’d really better get going home. It’s a good thing you live nearby or you wouldn’t make it.” Rayne commented. “I’ll leave as soon as you promise not to bring up the Leviathan to any one of the Guild Masters. Some of them might like you, but if anyone found out….”

Rayne smiled, looping her thumb through her tool belt and wiping some more of the soot off her face. “Yeah, yeah. Hell to pay. I know. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to anyone that would report me. I’ll submit our report too, so go ahead.” Lucy looked back at her sadly. “You sure?” she asked her friend. “You can spend the night at my house, there’s really no need to write it up right now is there?”

Rayne shook her head “I’ll be fine, Lucy. Really. Besides you know how they get. I’ll hand it in tonight just to make sure they can’t be mad at us.”

“If you say so Ray.” Lucy answered as they both walked towards the steps. Rayne said goodbye to Lucy three floors down, on the seventh floor. This is where she lived. There were quarters for those journeymen that didn’t want to live in the city or couldn’t afford it. Rayne was an orphan, though she didn’t like thinking about it. Picked up off the streets by one of the guild’s members after she had fixed one of the energy conduits using a roll of twine and scavenged metal bits.

It was illegal for anyone not initiated into one of the technomage Guilds to attempt to repair, or sometimes even touch, runic technology. The guilds could repair and in some cases even repurpose it, but the knowledge of how to create most of it was lost to time. And so the young orphan found herself imprisoned and questioned, until two of the Guild Masters had managed to convince the others that she would be a boon to the guild. After all, if she had figured out how to fix a conduit by herself, what would she be capable of when she was properly trained?

As it turned out the answer still eluded them. Rayne felt that she was fairly average, despite her occasional flashes of insight into the workings of the ancient machines. Regardless, she knew there was one person she could talk to about her sighting of a leviathan. But first she thought, looking down at her filthy clothing, a shower.

1

An hour and a half later, Rayne stepped back into her room. She tossed her towel onto the bed, her hair a tangle on her head. It had taken her forever to get the grime off herself. Somehow, sand always seemed to get everywhere. She walked over to the dark wooden dresser, looking at herself in the mirror above it for a moment.

Rayne always thought of herself as short as a child, and the notion had only been reinforced by Lucy. In the past few years though, she had grown quickly. She wasn’t lanky, like her friend, and knew that she was probably stronger. As evidence, the muscles of her arms stood defined against skin the color of light caramel. Her agile fingers found the thin scar that ran down her left cheek to her jaw, pausing for a moment. She watched her own eyes. Mostly green, with a ring of cool silvery blue around the pupil. She had been told she looked like she was cold. She frowned at the thought, but couldn’t refute it. Maybe I am? Came the inquisitive thought.

She searched for the handle on one of the rectangular drawers. A sigh, as her hands slid it open. First, simple undergarments, then a pair of comfortable woven pants. Originally, the pants hadn’t fit. She’d needed to get them tailored so the hips were wider. A deep breath, held for just a moment before being released. The familiar crack and rumble of thunder. Three steps to the temperature gauge on her wall, quickly turning the temperature down. The machine on the floor in the corner of the room started to hum, the air cooling rapidly. Rayne Threw herself onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling.

She hated this city. How dirty it was. How ugly it was, both in how it looked and how it seemed to be split into the poor and the very rich. She had heard of cities on the sides of mountains, held up by the runic technology their guilds maintained. She had heard of cities inside mountains, airflow regulated by a complex series of chambers carved around the city proper. She had heard of cities moving across the desert, like giant beetles. She wanted to leave, so badly. Another deep breath, eyes closed. Images of wondrous vistas seemed to float across the back of her eyelids.

And then there were the Leviathans. Mythical creatures of living magic and machinery. “The advent of the end of the world” she whispered. “Or, those that hold it together.” Her eyes were open now, as she replayed the scene of the gigantic… creature? Construct? Monster? Sinking above the clouds. “What are you?” she asked the empty air, sitting up and sliding off the bed. It was time to get on a shirt. If she spent as long as she wanted to thinking about whether what she saw was real or not, she’d never get anything done.

As the fabric brushed her skin, she thought. If she was smart, she’d follow Lucy’s advice. She knew exile was the same as an execution. It had taken her days to get over the haunted, despairing look of the first person she saw exiled. The way their entire body seemed to crumble. The sobs seemed to echo for weeks. The small sound of wood on wood hung in the air as she closed the drawer.

Still, I have to know. The voice of her curiosity told her. Her hair, still slightly wet, clung to her skin in places. She reached for the brush she kept in front of the mirror. Her hand stopped, going instead to the bracelet she had bought years beforehand. She picked it up, and stared at it. The gold band was studded with glass beads of different colors. She had bought it with the small amount of money she had been paid by the guild after her first week. It brought a small smile to her lips. The smile quickly faded as she remembered what she had witnessed the next day. The screams of a heretic given the brand. She let out a trapped breath. It was the first, and only, time that she watched the process.

A metal bar with the end shaped into a runic symbol, heated until it shone like the sun. The rune being dipped into what looked like liquid flames, but she knew was a specially prepared metal. A look of fear turning into one of pain. The stink of burning flesh. The scream of a woman called a heretic, a moment of silence. Rayne shuddered, nearly dropping the bracelet. She carefully put it down, and then stared at herself hard in the mirror. After the silence, came renewed screams. The metal reacted to magic. To the magic in the city. The woman ran desperately. The crowd parted. Rayne didn’t think anyone had ever seen her again. Anywhere she went with people, there would be magic. Anywhere she went with magic, there would be pain.

Rayne shook her head, clearing the images away. The brush was in her hand, and she drew it slowly through her hair, pulling it out. It lay mostly flat between her shoulder blades, but the curves that betrayed her curls were already showing. She had to talk to someone about what she had seen, and knew just who she wanted to approach. One of the people who had drawn her out of her life as an orphan.

The brush was back on the hard stone top of the dresser, the soft sound of wood on stone following its journey. She walked across the open space in front of her bed, to the door that led back into the tower. She leaned down, and picked up the slippers that were next to her boots. On they went, one at a time, with Rayne nearly falling over as she tried to reach for the doorknob instead of using both hands. She grabbed her key from a small table near the door. The simple door opened smoothly. She stepped outside, locking it behind her.

Rayne had once caught one of the younger apprentices trying to sneak in. Probably encouraged by some of his friends to steal something from the only girl that lived in the tower. Having since switched the lock out for one of her own design, nothing of hers had ever gone missing.

Moving quickly through the tower, Rayne made for the library. She wasn’t in a rush, and she quietly greeted those few that she passed in the wide hallways. They acknowledged her briefly before moving on. Through the thick windows and the end of each hall, nothing could be seen but quickly swirling sand and grit. The storm had hit in full, and with it muted acceptance. Tomorrow would be a busy day, but for now everyone was subdued. The silence was so striking it seemed to echo.

Up a set of sandstone stairs, one step at a time. The light, but quick, plinking of the storm’s contents on the pane of glass ahead of her loud in her ears. Finally, the entrance to the library. This is where she knew she would find who she wanted to see. At least, she would if the Guild masters had finished their meeting. She hoped they had. If not, she might be waiting for a long while as they debated what to do about the storm. As Lucy had said, the storms had been getting stronger. More frequent, too.

The rectangular iron plate bolted to this side of the door felt smooth under her hand as she pushed. The smell of books filled her nostrils. Bookshelves made of dark, ochre wood lined the walls and were spread in rows throughout the room. She searched for who she was looking for, the soft slap of her slippers on the cold stone floor echoing softly. The tables and chairs in the center were devoid of people. The armchairs spread throughout, small counters near them, were empty as well. He’s not here. She thought to herself. Oh well.

She pulled out a book at random. “Leviathans: myths of Old, huh?” she said out loud, running her fingers along the embossed title. She stifled a laugh at the sight. Might as well do some reading. She sat down at one of the long tables in the center of the room that was usually full of people. The padded chair was comfortable against her back as she opened the book.

Leviathans. Those civilizations that came before believed in the gigantic creatures, said to have been built by the gods themselves. Legends say they resided everywhere from the center of volcanos to the bottom of the ocean. Said the first few lines. “And above the clouds as well” Rayne whispered as she settled in. She suddenly remembered she hadn’t started writing the report she had to submit. She groaned. It would wait. This was more interesting.

The creak of the door opening startled her out of focus. Rayne looked first at the large grandfather clock against the central bookcase. An hour and a few minutes had passed. It was now firmly the middle of the night. She unfolded her legs from under her, the light aches reminding her that she should move more often while reading. Her hair fell across her face as she slowly turned her head towards the door.

The frail man, still carrying his notebook, walked through the door. He hadn’t seen her yet. He was muttering to himself, scribbling something in the margins. Rayne cleared her throat, and the man looked up with a look of surprise that faded quickly into a fatherly smile. “Oh, hello Rayne” he said, crossing the distance between them slowly. “Hello, sir” she answered, closing her book as he sat down across from her.

From close up, it was possible to see past the frailty, and into the hard determination in his eyes. One did not become a Guild Master for no reason. His thinning hair sat neatly on his head, pulled into a small, well kempt ponytail. It was already the silvery-gray color of Iva, the first moon. He rose an eyebrow at her examination. “Something you wished to speak about?” he asked simply, a single glance down at his notes before quickly closing the notebook with a snap.

Rayne looked up at him, a small smile dancing on her lips. He always could read right through her. “I could just have come here to read, you know.” Rayne answered, bringing up the book to show him. A shake of his head, a chuckle. “Knowing you, you would rather be reading in your room with a cup of tea.” The man countered, and Rayne shrugged. He was right, that much was true. A flash of lightning illuminated the library from the outside, throwing stark shadows against the floor and walls. Rayne and the man looked outside. “What’s happening with the Storms, Master Ethan?” she asked, and he frowned. His gaze went to his hands, and then to the cover of his notebook. “We’re doing what we can to find out, child.”

Rayne found the guarded look in his eyes. “So you can’t tell me.” She challenged, and a sad smile touched his lips, all but confirming her suspicions. She took a moment to look around, and then faced him again. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. How to word this so she didn’t sound insane? Leviathans weren’t real. Master Ethan looked on inquisitively, but calmly, his left hand over his right in front of him. She knew he would give her as much time as she needed. She sighed.

“I saw a leviathan, Master Ethan.” Rayne said quietly, looking at her fingers. Watching them move against the wood, leaving a bright sheen. The man stared, his eyes now firmly locked onto Rayne. “When I was checking the tower. I saw it come out from above the clouds. It looked just like the ones in the stories you’d tell me. A great stone whale with three pairs of wings, bigger than any of the buildings in the city. Bigger than the towers. Watching from above.” She breathed, remembering the images he had planted so long ago. She gestured meaninglessly with her hands, looking down at the cover of her book. Or more accurately, straight through it. She could still see the creature, if you could call it that, etched into her mind.

Master Ethan shuffled for a moment, scratching the slight stubble on his face. His expression was strange. Strained. As if he’d heard something he didn’t want to hear. “Are you certain it was not merely the storm?” Master Ethan asked as he adjusted his glasses. A soft snap as he opened his notebook again. “Definitely.” Rayne asserted with a nod.

It had been solid. Leviathan or not, what she saw was definitely not made of sand. “I… see.” He answered, the pen in his left hand moving quickly across the page. It scratched against the surface. The sound felt loud. “Rayne, you must not tell anyone else about this.” He said quickly. Rayne shifted, her hands tracing the word “Leviathan” on the cover of the book.

“I won’t. I just wanted to know if you knew”

“Knew what, Rayne?”

“That they were real.”

Master Ethan focused his eyes on Rayne’s face. He had put down the notebook again. His hands made a triangle, the tips of his fingers meeting at his lips. “Rayne, I might have a job for you.” He said, taking her off guard. “What does that have to do with this?” she asked, her eyebrows meeting in confusion. “Nothing.” Ethan said simply, his pale blue eyes still focusing on Rayne. “That doesn’t make any sense then, why would you go from that conversation to this one? Obviously they’re connected.” She argued, and Ethan laughed. Rayne opened her mouth to continue, but the Master shook his head.

“That’s exactly why I had you in mind. You’re smart. You see connections others don’t. You have a gift, Rayne.”

Rayne sighed. This conversation again. “I have no idea how to bring on the episodes. I don’t even know what they are.” She complained, a slight whine to her voice. She had been told, over and over. Scolded, over and over. It never helped. Whatever she had done as a child, she had never been able to do it again. Ethan nodded. “I know. For now, I want you to take a look at a puzzle for me. One that I’ve never been able to solve myself.” He said softly. There was hope lighting up his eyes.

Rayne raised her eyes to find Master Ethan holding out a small bronze sphere in her direction. Thin lines ran all over the metallic object, splitting it into a multitude of shapes and facets. She took it, lifting an eyebrow as she did. “What…?” Rayne asked slowly, not properly finishing the sentence as Master Ethan placed it in her hands. “As I said. A puzzle I have never been able to solve. Take it, see what you make of it.”

Re-examining the sphere, she noticed it was slightly warm to the touch, and seemed bright with an inner glow of some sort. Engravings covered the metal. They were in some strange language that gave her the sense that she was holding something truly ancient. As she turned it around in her hands, the lines she had noticed before felt like they were deeply cut into the object. One of her fingers ran along one of the lines.

“Is that etched…?” Her world condensed around the sphere. No not etched she thought, as she felt the minute movements of the faces. Her mouth fell slightly open as she concentrated. Interconnected subdivisions. All different. She rotated it slowly, feeling each piece shift ever so slightly under her fingers, like continental plates. Her breathing nearly stopped. She felt as if she could see into the sphere. See how all of the parts connected to each other. She brushed against one of shapes on its surface, pressing it inwards, and twisting it into a slot that had revealed itself. Pure elation flooded her. Her eyes went wide. She pulled at another piece, and moved another two aside. The sphere changed continuously as she worked, morphing at her touch. It grew outwards, and in. Slowly, ever so slowly, it opened.

She moved her fingers faster, the click that sounded after each correctly completed motion like the most beautiful of music to her ears. Sweat ran into her eye, she blinked it away, not daring to release the sphere. As if it would disappear as soon as she let go. She lost track of time as the pieces slid seamlessly, effortlessly. It seemed to take forever It seemed to take no time at all. And then, with one final resounding click, it was over.

Rayne let out a shaky breath as the sphere, now open to the core almost like a blooming flower, lay in front of her. Within it, in a loose setting made of what looked like gold, was a stone. It looked like it was smoldering, shifting between reds, oranges, and whites. As if the stone itself were crystallized flame. Rayne stared at it, breathless. She felt like she was going into shock.

Rayne suddenly remembered that she was sitting across from Master Ethan. Her mouth parted in surprise, and her eyes darted up to look at him. She was still shaking, sweat running down her forehead. Her quick breaths the only sound in the room. Master Ethan’s face was frozen in a look that was a mix of surprise, happiness, and the smugness that came with being right. He took a breath. It was shaky, as if he had been holding stale air in his lungs as she worked. “Incredible.” He breathed. “You truly do have the gift.” His gaze moved from her, to the stone. It lingered, for a moment. Rayne felt strangely protective of the gem. She realized what she had just done.

Her expression quickly changed from surprise and contentment to careful neutrality. Her eyebrows came together for a moment. Everyone who had heard of her episode as a child had called her a freak. What would someone say after actually seeing one? “You’ve never seen it happen before, have you?” she asked cautiously. “I… Yes. I have. Just not to you. And never quite so extreme” The man answered. Rayne’s eyes met his for just a moment. This was news to her. He wrapped his hand in a small cloth, extending his hand towards the stone.

Rayne pulled the sphere away unconsciously. He raised an eyebrow, but smiled. “May I?” He asked, gesturing towards it. Rayne hesitated for just a moment. The glint in Master Ethan’s eye was anything but gentle. It spoke of hunger. Just as quickly as she had seen it though, it was gone. Rayne swallowed, sure she had imagined it, and let him approach.

Master Ethan adjusted his glasses, and then the cloth, before carefully lifting the stone from the center of the sphere. They both sat watching it in his hand for a minute or two. The mesmerizing, shifting colors almost hypnotic. Rayne’s expression was one of curiosity. Master Ethan’s was one of wonder, and an almost religious reverence. He covered the gem, placing it slowly in front of him. “Who?” Rayne asked quickly. Ethan glanced up at her, confused. “Who what?”

“Who else have you seen do this?”

“Ah.” Came the sound of understanding. “Give me one moment, please.” He continue, as he opened his notebook and furiously began to sketch. Rayne sighed her frustration as she watched the edges of the stone quickly form on the page. The detail Master Ethan put into the drawing was remarkable. He glanced up at the Sphere, his eyes gliding past Rayne as if she weren’t there. He was so focused on what he was doing, as he changed the subject of his sketching to the open sphere that she might as well not have been there at all. Truth be told Rayne could understand the feeling, even if she didn’t like it.

A few minutes later he finished. Rayne had her arms crossed, staring up at the steady lights on the ceiling and the flashes of lighting through the windows, when he cleared his throat to call her attention. She looked down. His fingers were stained with ink, and he was careful to keep them from smearing the page as he set aside his notebook to dry. He seemed to ignore the ink that had gotten on the cuffs of his shirt. Rayne’s eyes met his, and she waited. A few seconds grew to a minute. A minute, to two. And then three. Rayne cocked her head, raising an eyebrow.

He wove his fingers together on the table in front of him. “What you just did… is difficult to explain, but I will try to be brief. Some extremely talented technomages are able, after decades of intense training, teach themselves a skill in which they can almost… sense, would be the closest word… the inner workings of nearly any object with moving parts or magic.” Master Ethan began, gesturing to enunciate his points.

Rayne crossed her legs beneath her. The sight and smell of the multitude of books, the sound of rumbles of thunder and sand striking glass, all faded away as she began to think. It was true. She felt as if she did know exactly how the sphere was constructed. Exactly which facets to move to achieve the effect she wanted. Her eyes wandered down to the sphere as her ears registered a voice she was no longer even hearing properly. It was the most complicated, and beautiful piece of machinery she had ever seen.

A bright bronze. The light she had seen from within it before now faded. The setting for the stone was incredibly ornate. All twists, and turns, and what looked to be runes. She now saw that each face had a different symbol in the center, so faded with time that not even her deft fingers had noticed them in her rush to open the object. She remembered how it felt. Simply knowing what had to be done, where everything was. How everything moved. It was exactly like the time she was a child. When the guild had found her. Rayne blinked once, refocusing on Master Ethan. He was still talking. Oops. She thought, barely stifling a laugh.

“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” he asked.

“I did… just not after the beginning. Sorry.” She answered sheepishly.

Master Ethan sighed, raising his hands in exasperation. A small, warm smile on his face as he shook his head. “Never mind then.” he said. “Was the last time this happened when you were a child?” he questioned. Rayne shook her head by way of response. “A few times since. But nobody believes me about it. The other Masters think I must be lying, and that fixing that conduit was a fluke.” She lamented. He cocked his head to the side. “It may be best if you don’t speak to any of them about this.” He told her.

“Not even Master Ronyr?” she asked, surprised. Ronyr, the violet eyed Senior Technomage that had argued for her to join the guild and had later ascended to Master. Ethan shook his head and then his face suddenly grew serious. The soft lines hardened. “Rayne, can I trust you?” he asked, looking right into her eyes. Rayne was taken aback, and shaken entirely out of her reverie. “Of course.” She answered truthfully, leaning forward as she untangled her legs. “I need you to hide this stone.” He said, holding the cloth-wrapped gem out to her. Her eyes lingered on it, and she swore she could see a small amount of light coming from beneath the cloth.

“From who?” she asked, her eyes flicking up to him, and then back down to his outstretched hand.

“Everyone.” Came his earnest answer. His voice was almost strained, as if he wanted to tell her more, but couldn’t. To protect you, she knew. Still, her eyes betrayed her curiosity. Master Ethan paused for a moment, as if struggling with something. He glanced at his notebook, and then at her. His mouth came together into a hard line as he made his decision. “The storms are getting worse, Rayne.” he whisper, almost conspiratorially.

Rayne looked at him in confusion. “And? what does that have to do with the gem?” she asked, and he shook his head. “It feels to me like things are unravelling” he answered, as if ignoring her question. He leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling, lost in memory for a moment. “In my youth, the storm you see outside would have been considered the greatest storm of the century. Now, it’s just one among many.” He breathed. Master Ethan refocused on her and sighed, holding out the stone once more. “You’ll find the answers you seek, Rayne. I know it.” he finished. Find. Rayne thought. Not get.

Rayne knew that asking any more questions wouldn’t get her any more answers about what she was supposed to do with it. She took the stone from his hand almost reverently, and carefully slipped it into a pocket. “I’ll keep it with me until you ask for it back.” She said simply, and he smiled sadly, as if that would never happen. As if there was an unspoken reason he would never get the chance. For some reason, that struck her. He had never looked like that before. Like he was lost. “What is it?” she prodded. He stayed silent.

“Ever the curious one.” He finally sighed, after a few seconds of empty air.

“You’re doing the thing where you don’t answer my questions again, Master Ethan.” Rayne complained, pouting. The man laughed, breaking the tension between them. He shrugged.

“So I am. Suffice to say it is important enough to hide, and that I believe that you may be more apt than many to understand that importance.”

“Hmm” Rayne muttered with a frown. She could feel the weight of it in her pocket. As if it were burning. “Please?” she implored, and he shook his head sadly. “I am sorry, Rayne. Still… you should return to your room for rest. It is quite late.” Master Ethan said gently. Rayne huffed, and crossed her arms, looking away towards the bookcases again. Refusing to meet his gaze for a few moments. She glanced over at the clock near the window. It was after midnight. Usually, she was asleep by now. Or, at least, she was trying to sleep.

The howling of the wind filled the silence that had grown suddenly. The staccato plinking of the sand against the window drew her attention. She stared. The enveloping darkness outside was striking. She had been so lost in her reading, and then in her conversation with Master Ethan, that she hadn’t even consciously realized so much time has passed. Finally, with a sigh, she looked back at him. He was looking down at his hands, almost guiltily. It wasn’t an expression Rayne was used to seeing on his face. It didn’t speak of something he had done yet, but of something that he was going to do.

He looked up at her and opened his mouth. Her heart tightened, as she let herself hope he’d explain what it was he seemed scared of. He closed his mouth, looking almost deflated. “Good night, Master Ethan. Thanks for not answering any of my questions again.” She chided only half-jokingly as she stood up. Her legs felt cramped.

“Of course, Rayne. I’ll be here if you’d like more frustration in the future.” He promised. Somehow, the promise felt hollow. “Oh, and don’t worry about the report you haven’t started yet. I’ll take care of it” He continued, adjusting his glasses as he followed her example and stood. Rayne nearly hurt herself with how quickly her hand went to her face in embarrassment. “Thanks.” She said, stealing a glance at him through her fingers. He nodded, the laugh lines on his face standing out as he smiled. He stepped towards a bookcase, and waved her away.

Twenty minutes later and Rayne was lying in bed. She stared at the dark ceiling, tracing the lines and knots in the wood. The small light on the nightstand was still lit, providing a dull glow. Her soft shadow mirrored her movements as she raised a hand upwards, spreading her fingers. She stared. She could still feel some of the elation that had flooded into her as she examined the sphere. If she concentrated, she could feel it in her outstretched hand. She closed it into a fist, and looked towards her dresser, hand still extended. She had hidden the stone inside, amongst her clothes.

Her gaze wandered back to her fist. She opened it again and lowered it onto her bare chest. She always preferred to sleep with as few clothes as possible. She felt it was more comfortable. The chill in the air seemed to caress her skin as she pulled the covers up to her neck and turned onto her side. Her hair fell against her face. A pit opened in her chest. She didn’t know what was bothering Master Ethan, but she had a bad feeling about it. Hopefully, it would prove to be nothing.

She turned off the light with the press of a button on the side of the lamp. Her room was plunged into darkness. Flashes of lightning highlighted the crossbar on her window against the opposite wall. Rayne closed her eyes, and fell asleep to the image of a stone that appeared to be made of flames.

2

The next morning, Rayne awoke with a knock at her door. She made a noise of discontent, and turned over. It was her day off. The damn storm must’ve made a mess of things, she thought. She sighed, pushing the covers off of herself and sliding her legs off of the bed. The hurried, impatient sound of knuckles striking wood came again. “One moment, please” she said loudly, standing up. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a complete mess.

She muttered to herself, grabbing the brush back off the counter. Having wavy hair was difficult. It was hard to get it to do what she wanted it to. Bristles snagged against knots, one hand pulling the brush as the other unearthed clothes and tossed them towards the bed. Another impatient knock. The sound of the doorknob rattling as someone tried to enter her room “Shut up, seriously” she breathed, her voice low. She got her clothes on as quickly as she could, very happy that her lock did as advertised.

Another mutter of exasperation as she nearly tripped over her boots while walking towards the now incessant sound of knocking and the occasional attempt to open a clearly locked door. Rayne tried, and failed, to keep the look of annoyance off her face as she opened it from the inside. She paused briefly to register that if not for her lock, the person on the other side of the door would’ve gotten an eyeful.

A young boy stood in front of her. He took a step back in quick surprise, as if he hadn’t expected the door to swing open. His short, brown hair was parted in two. His shirt was buttoned down the center, and tucked into his baggy pants. Everything he wore was just a little too big for him. The overly neat look, coupled with the size of his clothing served to make him ridiculous. Rayne stared. It was not her place to judge anyone fashion sense, but this was pushing it. Even by her standards.

“Yes?” she asked, and the boy placed his left palm on his right shoulder. A messenger, then. At least how he dressed wasn’t his fault. He quickly regained his composure from the surprise, and cleared his throat, before reaching for a piece of paper on the satchel that hung off of his opposite shoulder “Your name has been added to the task board.” he said, his voice squeaky. Rayne blinked, and slowly raised her hand to take the folded piece of paper he was handing to her. It felt heavy.

She opened it, and began to read. She noticed the wax seal of the Guild Masters’ on it. It seemed it was official. The boy cleared his throat again, still at attention. Rayne nodded her understanding, and the messenger went on his way. Rayne sighed. She wondered what it was they wanted her to do. She had been looking forward to spending the day doing absolutely nothing useful. She wasn’t wearing her gear and would need to change clothes again. A groan escaped her lips, hands brushing the hair out of her eyes.

She went back inside, and quickly got undressed. First, she pulled on thin, skin-tight pants that would help her maintain her temperature. Second came her work pants. Brown, they were patched very cleanly in a large number of places. Her eyes were drawn to the drawer. The stone’s light could be seen through the cloth it was wrapped in. The thought of the gem staying in her room, no matter how good she thought her lock was, scared her. She picked it up, and placed it on the dresser. I’ll take it with me. She decided. She pulled on her pants.

Rayne unbuttoned and stuck her hands into the multiple pockets to make sure they weren’t bunched up. It took her a minute or so. She muttered to herself, but took her time. Afterwards came the black, long sleeved undershirt. It made sure that if anything happened to the coils inside her coat, they would never come into direct contact with her skin.

She shuddered, having been burned by a stray coil herself. Next, a simple shirt with the Guild’s crest embossed over the heart. Now, her coat. She pulled it off the hook near her door, and slipped into the comfortable garment. She took a breath, and the scent of sand-swept leather filled her nostrils. The smell always left her feeling content. It reminded her of her work, and she loved it. Finally, her tool belt. It was mostly empty, after yesterday’s accident. Her heart dropped as she looped it around her waist and tightened the straps that surrounded her thighs. Can’t forget the replacement tools. She thought, tapping herself in the forehead with two fingers, as if to push in the information. The stone still glowed on the dresser, the mirror throwing its light across the room.

Her fingers closed around the gem, and carefully deposited it into the inside breast pocket of her coat, buttoning it tightly. Afterwards, she stepped outside of her room and closed the door. It took a moment of feeling the fibers of carpeting between her toes to realize she wasn’t wearing her boots. She turned back around. “Don’t trip me again, guys. Or I’ll get a new pair” she told them as she pulled them onto her feet.

Finally, she was ready to leave. Her hand pulled the door closed as she walked past the threshold. The sound of wood striking wood, and the click of a lock. Only the top four floors had the distinction of being carpeted. She didn’t really like the stuff. Fortunately, the carpeting did not extend to the inside of her room, she thought, as she started walking. She preferred the cool feeling of wood under her feet. Other doors set into the stone walls passed by. All of them had a small bronze nameplate, not all of which had names. She ignored them. Rayne had never really interacted with many of the other inhabitants of the tower beyond simple greetings.

Down two flights of steps. Slowly, one at a time. Rayne liked admiring the workmanship in the ornate wooden handrails, and the hanging metal lanterns. The tower was much busier today. People shuffled about. It seemed the storm was over as quickly as it had appeared. Lots of fixing to do. She thought to herself, the feeling of cool wood under her hand as people pushed past hurriedly. She increased her pace. Whatever it was that they needed her for, Rayne would have hell to pay if she was late.

One more flight of stairs, and the task board was visible in the center of the hall. A large wooden board, surrounded by an ornate metal border. The metal had a greenish tinge, but was still very shiny. Hundreds of holes from nails were set into it. Pieces of paper still hung from where they had been ripped off that morning. A small mob of about a half-dozen was standing around it, pushing and shoving each other to try and get the best jobs that were left. Rayne skirted its edges, eyeing what was left She uttered thanks under her breath that her job was named, and not one of the undoubtedly terrible ones left.

Someone from outside the mob pushed their way in, and nailed another request to the board. The group shifted, trying to see what it said. A small struggle broke out as two of the technomages argued loudly, shoving each other. Rayne took advantage of the distraction to push closer to the board, keeping an eye on the argument in case it turned violent. Another young boy came to nail a request against the board. The sharp knock of his hammer summoning those who were watching the developing argument.

Every morning, as part of their duties, the younger apprentices were to nail request papers to the task board. These papers always included a list of instructions to complete. Those around her kept some small distance. Some of the younger technomages were intimidated by her. Sometimes the requests nailed to the board included a name, or a set of illustrations. Rayne looked them over. Examining a transference cable near the city’s dump. Replacing a mana reservoir somewhere in the Chasm. Definitely terrible, she though, glad nobody would be able to take the piece of paper with her name on it.

Eventually, she found the right piece of paper. She groaned, and reread it’s contents, hoping that it would somehow magically transform into something else. An errand. To the city hall. She was to serve as a specialist witness for the trial of some vagrant who had damaged a section of the city’s circuitry. “Ugh” she said out loud, turning quickly towards the stairs, her annoyance turning into a flash of anger. She would need to leave now, and would have to listen to people argue whether or not what had happened was intentional. It was going to be incredibly boring. And it was going to last all day. She wondered which of the Masters had decided this particular job was hers. She swore under her breath. She had to be there in a half hour. Why not send one of the apprentices instead?

Not even the decency to wake me up earlier. Before I’d need to rush. She thought, taking the steps down three at a time. She pushed past people trying to come up the stairs, nearly knocking one or two over. I’m going to need to find time to get new tools, she considered, the small distraction enough to cause her to misstep. Rayne twisted, a shout of surprise escaping her lips as she crashed straight into someone else. Both of them went down, arms flailing. The papers the man had been carrying were strewn across the room. Rayne took a moment to orient herself. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” she began, and the man shrugged. He was annoyed. And for good reason, thought Rayne. “I’m sorry. Let me help you.” She said. She was late, but she couldn’t bring herself to make someone else’s life difficult because of her recklessness. She looked around. There were more papers than she had imagined. This was going to take a while. “Oh well.” She mumbled. “Not like I’ll be the first person to talk anyway. It’ll be fine.” So she hoped.

The man grimaced and gave a curt nod to acknowledge her offer of help, but thanked her and gave her a quick smile as her fingers found the paper. As she picked them up, she couldn’t help but read the pages. Her eyes skimmed the words. Not enough to fully understand, but enough to grasp the basics. They seemed to be referencing something she had never heard of before. Technomagical constructs, taller and wider than a man, sketched and described in detail. She bent down to grab the final page, and noticed something that looked suspiciously like the stone that had once been in the sphere. The one that Master Ethan had told her to hide.

She went ice cold, and swore she could feel it burning through her cloak. Runestone. She stared for a moment, before the man coughed politely, and extended a hand out at her. She looked up at him. Another moment. He raised an eyebrow. Rayne handed him the page wordlessly, and he went on his way, irrationally afraid of the possibility of the stone’s light being visible through the leather that encased her.

She stared at the man as he left, as if she could look into his mind. What in the hell was a runestone? Is that what the gem was? She would definitely have research to do later, she thought. Rayne suddenly remembered she was late. Her feet carried her quickly down the steps. She ran through the entrance hall. I’ll need to pick up tools later. The door was open up ahead, and she dashed through it. Her pace slowed as she reached the gate.

An incredible mass of people was outside. She groaned. The gates were open, but guards kept them from coming in more than a few at a time. Rayne walked up, and one of the guards motioned her through. The group was entirely composed of the poor. Their clothes had been patched in countless places, their faces dirty. Many had no shoes. Rayne’s eyes narrowed. The rich didn’t have to wait. Her nostrils flared at the thought. The people opened up a path for her as she advanced. There was a healthy respect in this city for technomages. Very few people were stupid, or desperate enough to inconvenience one, as she had once heard it expressed.

Once past the crowd, Things got easier. She sped up again, but didn’t want to run. It wouldn’t do to show up at a trial sweating and breathless. Besides, she thought to herself, I could do with a little time to myself. In truth, as much as she disliked parts of her city, Rayne had always liked walking through the streets. The people always seemed happier than she could believe. Smiles. Conversation. Friendship.

Children ran past her, dirt on their faces, shouting and whooping as they played some game she had never heard of. People carefully avoided the thick magical circuits that ran along the streets. They seemed to pulse a yellowish-blue. Though she knew that wasn’t exactly possible. Magic wasn’t really a physical thing. She shook her head. Not what she wanted to think about right now.

She walked through one of the residential districts. Rayne looked up at the sky. It was clear. The sun shone brightly, and wisps of clouds left their traces along the great blue. Her mind flashed back to the leviathan. The curve of its body. It looked like it was made out of stone. Impossible she thought, but it was what she had seen. She looked back around herself.

The brick-and-mortar buildings of the district were covered in hardened clay from a nearby river. The clay had been painted over in various bright colors, but they had faded with time. No one had bothered to repaint them. Dirt caked the walls, and occasional graffiti poked through the layers. The storm had left the place more subdued, and dirtier, than usual. The entire area was hazy, as if not all the dust had settled yet. She coughed, her hand coming up to the scarf around her face. It was very thin everywhere but the mouth and nose, where it was double padded to filter out the dust.

People walked past her, their loose fitting clothing serving to protect them from the heat, and the sun. The residential districts were always full, and this was one of the poorer ones. Ripped clothing, downcast eyes. A beggar grabbed at Rayne’s pants, shouting something unintelligible. She tore her leg away and quickened her steps. This was the fastest way to where she needed to be, but definitely not the safest. She was thankful her coat and shirt were both blade-proof. She gathered herself as she walked past gaunt-faced children and their stricken parents. The people in this part of the city never seemed to have enough of anything, and the sheer amount of them always amazed her.

That wasn’t the only thing that had always surprised Rayne, however. They spoke to each other, in the lilting accent she had come to associate with her language, with such passion and conviction. Their wild gestures causing their light colored clothing to move. Sometimes, they knocked over their own headwear. Visitors to the city always thought they were fighting, but Rayne knew better. “Hearts worn on sleeves” she whispered. The people had nothing to hide.

She caught a glimpse of a figure. Clearly different from the others. A purple mask covered one side of their face. She looked away, her heart quickening. Haralam, she thought. The crowd seemed to ripple around the person, desperately trying to avoid attention. One of the Exarch’s private police force. She wondered what the leader of her city would’ve thought was so important that he needed to send out his “Keepers of the peace”.

Rayne remembered the same masks on those who surrounded the one woman she had seen branded. Now, however, it felt as if she was the one on trial. The masked man, or woman she couldn’t really tell, seemed to stare right at her before fading almost ghostlike into the press of bodies. Rayne’s mouth was dry. Her heart threatened to explode out of her chest. They couldn’t know.

A man to her left was selling juicy cactus fruits from the surrounding desert and she stopped to buy a piece, hoping the merchant didn’t notice her shaking hands. Thoughts of the leviathan leapt unbidden to her mind. And then thoughts of what would happen to her if she were found out. What was it that she could do? Leave? How? She shook her head. How was anybody supposed to find out, anyway? She had only told two people. Still…. Still… came the doubts, her brow furrowing as a frown touched her lips. The gem felt warm through the fabric of her coat. She took a bite of the slightly bitter fruit, the cool juices soothing her parched mouth. Rayne tried to still her hands.

She cut quickly through the rest of the district. The sights, the sounds, that had so entranced her just a few minutes before had suddenly become distractions. Rayne wanted to go do her job, and then leave. That’s all. As she walked, the number of people got smaller. Set into a stone wall separating this district from the center of the city was an ornate gate. Glass and metal coiled around each other to form beautiful swirling shapes around central panels of wood. Guards stood to either side and a line of people were leading to the entranceway. Their leather armor stood as a stark contrast to the beauty of the gate, their spears pointing up at the sky.

Rayne heard raised voices before she even reached the front of the line. It sounded like an argument between one of the guards and someone in line. She moved past the people, and two men were yelling at each other. The younger, clearly from the poorer district by the state of his clothes, was arguing that his brother was in the central district selling wares and needed help. The guard on the other hand refused to let him past, citing a regulation Rayne had never heard of. Honestly it was probably just made up to keep the poor out.

The younger man raised his voice higher, colorfully insulting the guard. The guard raised his hand, and struck the man across the face, knocking him to the ground with a sneer. He raised the butt of his spear and shoved it into the poor man’s chest, keeping him against the floor. The guard spit on him, telling him to be thankful he hadn’t lost his life for the insult. The man, cowed, pushed past the onlookers angrily, shoving Rayne to the side.

She looked at his fading back with a mixture of understanding and pity. Rayne rubbed her arms as she remembered the feel of wood striking her flesh. She moved towards the guard. He reached out to stop her, before seeing the coat she was wearing, and the symbol embossed on her chest. He immediately threw her a salute and opened the gate before ushering her through.

She heard the complaints at her skipping through the line addressed with harsh words and harsher action. She blinked quickly trying to block out the sound before the gate slammed back closed behind her. Rayne pulled her coat together and allowed herself to be comforted for a moment before she kept walking. The buildings around her were now strikingly different than the ones in the poor district. They were almost gleaming. It was like being in a small isle of cleanliness in the smog.

It was unnerving. The clothes on the people around her were of even higher quality than hers. Light, airy fabrics adorned their bodies. Gems and gold thread were inlaid into their cuffs. Their jewelry seemed to reflect too much light. Rayne looked down. She felt out of place here, much more so than in the poor district. She glanced upwards at the faces of people that bespoke wealth and status.

She saw, or imagined, disapproval and scorn. The stone beneath her feet was set out in intricate patterns, and she followed them with her eyes as her legs carried her forward. Occasionally, she would see someone clearly from the poor district walking past. Their heads as downcast as hers. Trying to avoid interaction, to meld with the background. One of them accidentally bumped into one of the rich. Rayne shrunk into herself as she heard his echoing cries of pain. None of them would touch her, she knew. Regardless of their status, none of them would dare to lay a hand on a technomage. Status did not keep you cool in the scorching heat. Runic technology did.

The buildings here were taller, but still squat. Most of them were made entirely of wood, as opposed to clay and sandstone. They looked polished and were painted in bright, almost gaudy, colors. Stone was used for the sturdy fences that surrounded almost every property. She walked past the guards that were spread haphazardly through the district, they nodded as she went by. They thought she didn’t notice their hands tightening on their spears. Despite all the technomages did for the city, they were sometimes viewed with superstitious mistrust.

Rayne kept close to the buildings whenever she could. Cutting through intersections only when she needed to, to stay out of the way of the camel-pulled carts and carriages that occasionally passed. She remembered sneaking through these streets at night as a child, stealing to eat. She remembered getting caught once or twice. She didn’t like thinking about her childhood. Or at least, not most of it.

She walked past a house she recognized. A man and a woman were sitting near a small fountain, speaking to each other in carefree tones. The man’s laugh crossed the distance between them as the woman said something to him. The laugh brought back memories of a warm smile and fresh fruit being handed to her. Of a good man. She stopped and stared. She cocked her head as she tried to decide whether to say anything or not. She sighed, and kept going. Coward came the thought, and she banished it.

Just a few more minutes, a few more side streets, and she approached the courthouse square. She paused for a moment, to make sure she was composed. It wouldn’t do to embarrass the rest of the guild. She straightened her coat to make sure the symbol on the fabric of her shirt was visible. The golden spark of her guild was splashed along her chest, and it lent weight to her presence. Rayne tapped the small magical generator that was in the lining on her right shoulder. It was small, but more than enough to operate the cooling and heating systems it was connected to. She pulled her gloves so they were tight against her hands, and pulled her coat over them. Finally she adjusted her belt, a sinking feeling filling her as she felt how light it was.

She didn’t look out of place in this district, but felt like she was. People glanced at her occasionally, but never for very long. She caught glimpses of other technomages in the plaza, moving from one job to the next. It was normal to see them here. Rayne felt, however, as if every glance was a challenge. As if every look was an attack. She forced her chin up, and her hands balled into fists at her side. The plaza opened up in front of her. The stones that made it up large enough across that it took four steps to get past one. A fountain, sustained by magic, sat at the center. She wondered whether the city would even be capable of existing where it did if not for runic technology. Probably not, she thought.

She began crossing quickly. And stopped. A group of people that shouldn’t have been there. The Haralam. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She could see them spreading out to the sides. Their masks weren’t on, but she knew it was them. It was betrayed by the easy loping gaits. By the near predatory gazes. By the way eyes darted from side to side, as if searching. She forced herself to stop thinking about the leviathan, and the brand. It was said the Haralam could read and control minds. So many of them she thought warily. People sat at benches, talking lightly. Servants cleaned the plaza, and salesmen kept food and drink flowing. Everything looked normal. She took in their positions. She saw the satchels at their waists. Flash bombs she thought. Rayne couldn’t stop herself from sliding her protective, auto-darkening goggles over her eyes. Finally, she took a deep breath. She couldn’t stand here forever.

That didn’t mean, however, that she would be able to stop from approaching slowly, almost stealthily. Her eyes jumped between all of those she was watching. They were behind her now. Her step quickened. She was within a stone’s throw of the courthouse. A tall, imposing structure made entirely of dull and heavy sandstone. Her feet had nearly carried her to the steps that led to the great wooden doors when one of them saw her. His gaze rested on her, and her heart rate began to slow. See? She chided herself nothing happened.

And then the man raised a finger to point at her, and shouted. As he did, he put on the purple half-mask that was a mark of his station. It covered the left side of his face, making him look almost demonic as whatever runic technology embedded into it started to glow in response to his touch. Straight lines spread out, breaking into ninety degree angles along the mask. Rayne was paralyzed. The man slowly approached, and Rayne struggled to move. She heaved and strained against the prison of her own body. Nononononono she chanted desperately in her mind. The mask came a flash of insight as he slowly padded towards her. Some people had stopped to watch, intrigued. Whatever was in the mask was doing this. She tried to turn her head, but her eyes were locked onto the sequence of colors coming from the mask’s eye.

Then, she felt something click inside of her. A wave of cold clarity swept throughout her body. She took a step back and the man walking towards her froze, incredulous. It appeared he was trying to process what had happened. He hesitated. Rayne Didn’t.

She turned, and bolted back towards the street, the Haralam closing in behind her.

3

One foot. Then the next. A way out. She needed a way out. Her ragged breathing filled her ears. She could feel every desperate beat of her heart. A hand closed on her shoulder. She kicked back, and felt someone crumple. Tears threatened to flow but she refused to let them. Instead, she ran. People caught by the Peacekeepers tended to disappear. Permanently. If she could just out run them. Make it to the tower. She pushed past a group of people, crashing through them. They fell behind her with indignant yells of surprise.

A cart pulled up ahead of her, two Haralam jumped off of it. Their purple masks scattered the crowd almost as effectively as their almost driving a cart through it. They charged. She dove to the side to avoid their grasping arms, and then slid under the cart to the other side. Curses followed her. Rayne could hear the commotion. People were screaming. Some tried to get in her way. She shoved them. Hard. She couldn’t make it long in the rich district. She needed to get out. It was impossible to hide here. She paused for a moment, panting. A flash of memory from when she was a child. A hole in the wall that surrounded the district. There might be a way.

Just another street or two, and she would be there. She heard yelling. She started running. Almost there. Please Rayne thought, turning corner into the right alley. She whimpered as her eyes desperately scanned the wall. She jumped at every sound. She nearly began to sob as she heard the footsteps. But then, hope. The piece of wood that the urchins used to cover the hole so it would stay unnoticed. She ran at it, and pulled it aside. Relief flooded Rayne as she saw the narrow gap. Her knees met the floor, and she went in backwards, closing the gap behind her.

Her breathing echoed. Her lungs burned. Her whole body shook as she maneuvered herself so she was facing forwards. A stray rock jabbed into her thigh. Rayne bit her lip to stop from making any more noise. The hard sound of footsteps from the alleyway behind her. The Haralam were here. One hand in front of the other in the small crawlspace. Shouts echoed in the small space. Her eyes squeezed shut against the darkness. She smacked her head into a piece of wood. “ah, shit!” she breathed, her eyes shooting open as she rubbed at the bump.

Rayne reached out tentatively, her head throbbing. She found what she was looking for, and pushed. When it didn’t budge, she pushed harder. A small snap, and light rushed into the hole she was in as the wooden planks fell outwards. She crawled forward into the dirty alleyway, and sat up. She looked around. A group of kids was staring at her, their mouths agape. She smiled weakly. Suddenly she heard a scratching sound from behind her. The hole. She crouched down and looked in, a lump in her throat. She screamed and flailed backwards onto her backside when she saw the sequence of lights coming from the mask just a few feet away.

“Haralam!” she yelled at the children, whose eyes widened just before they ran. She followed suit, her hurried steps throwing up dust and sand. Another corner. She nearly crashed into a wall of people as she found a marketplace ahead of her. She let herself get lost inside of it. She needed to think. Her eyes darted from one side to the other. The raised voices around Rayne drowning out her gasping breaths. Less than a minute, and she saw one of the purple masks. She looked down, and tried to shuffle to the opposite edge of the market. Then, a thought struck her. She couldn’t go to the tower. They knew who she was. They would be waiting.

Almost to the edge of the crowd now. Her mind racing followed by her heart nearly stopping as a haralam passed close enough for her to see the individual hairs on his chin. She closed her eyes for a moment. A map of the city opened up in her mind. A line traced itself for her, finding a place for her to go. She opened her eyes. She didn’t know why talking about the leviathans as if they were real was forbidden. She had heard words like blasphemy being thrown around before, but – she shook her head. Not the time. She had to get somewhere safe. And there was only one place she could go other than the tower.

Rayne pushed out of the crowd, and then ran. A shout from behind her. Faster. Faster. She thought. She dodged people, jumped over merchant stands. She knocked over signs, and baskets. Desperately trying to keep those behind her away. She heard a scream and a crash. Grim satisfaction. There was another market coming up ahead, but she had to get to it first. Sounds followed her. She looked back into one of the purple masks. Dread filled her.

She started sprinting again, and almost ran into a Haralam who was trying to cut her off. She rolled to the side, and leapt onto one of the merchant stands. She vaguely registered the owner yelling at her to get off his vegetables. She glanced around her. There. A low roof. Rayne jumped, extending her hands. Fingers barely catching the ledge. One of the men grabbed her ankle, and she kicked him in the face. A dull crunch and he let go, blood streaming from his nose. She pulled herself up, and starting running across the roofs, jumping from one to the next.

She knew she couldn’t fight them off but she was nimble and strong. Thank you, hard technomage labor. From her vantage point, she could see the market full of people. Her chance. Rayne hung off the other side off the roof and dropped down, running into another alley, and then left into another street.

Rayne finished running down the street, and turned off of it into the open space, blending into a crowd. She saw her pursuers enter the square. Her heart felt like it was in her throat. Her lungs felt like they couldn’t pull in enough air. She was sweating, even though the coils in her coat should be cooling her down. She turned from the Haralm. Eye contact would make her stick out like a sore thumb. Everybody else was trying to pretend the Peacekeepers didn’t exist.

She maneuvered herself carefully through the press of people. Letting the motions of the crowd carry her forward. She stopped near one of the stands. A man selling cheap cloaks to keep off the heat. Rayne waited until she was distracted, and grabbed one quickly. Her mouth soured at her theft. Bigger problems. She moved a little more, and then crouched down and threw the cloak over herself quickly. Hopefully that keeps them off me for a bit. She thought, slowly moving towards one of the buildings. A jewelry shop. She’d been there before, to buy Lucy a birthday present. She knew there was a back door that could get her out of the market unseen.

She pulled the door open quietly, keeping her head down. The owner spared her a glance, but didn’t recognize her. Good, Rayne thought. The owner didn’t like her much. Fortunately, there was a small group of people distracting him. She thanked whatever higher power might exist, and ducked past him, and out the back.

A deep breath, and she started walking briskly forward. They didn’t know where she was anymore, and she needed to conserve her strength in case they found her. It would take another few minutes to make it to Lucy’s house from where she was. She silently thanked the Guild Master for all of the times that she had been sent to this particular part of the city for repairs.

She followed her sense of direction until she came to a part of the residential district that was a little better off than the surrounding area. Here, the homes were clean. Here, some of the luster of the stone shone through the dust. Small amounts of greenery decorated the homes. Wide arches and circular architecture, designed to generate as much shade as possible during the day. As she walked she saw the open yards, some with wells, or a single fruit tree in them. Another minute or so, and she came to a small two story house. The entrance was in a shadow cast by a small overhang. Tiny vines crept up the sides of the pillars that held it up. It was nicer than the homes around. More well kempt. Or at least, Rayne thought it was. She knocked on the wooden door, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Nervous.

The door opened. “Rayne? What are you doing here?” Lucy asked, surprise coloring her voice. Rayne hugged her friend hard. “Hey, okay. What’s going on?” Lucy questioned, returning the hug. “I need you to do me a favor” Rayne answered, her eyes desperate. She couldn’t keep herself from looking down the street. Just to check. “I mean, what is it? Why do you look so scared?”

Rayne shook her head. “Haralam after me. I don’t know what to do, Lucy.” She said, her voice breaking.

Lucy looked startled, genuine fear appearing on her face. She looked around, and quickly pulled Rayned inside. “Explain please.” She ordered, and so Rayne did.

4

Lucy stared at her, blinking slowly. “You think it’s because of the leviathan you say you saw?”

Rayne huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms. “I saw it Lucy. And yes.” Lucy raised her palms in surrender. Rayne could tell her friend was shaking. Lucy realized the two of them were still standing at the doorway, and that she was wearing nothing but a thin shirt and panties. She wordlessly motioned at her living room, blushing slightly. The space had a three person couch, made of wood and padded with pulped plant matter. The red dye used to color the rug in the center of the room served to highlight it against the pale floor. A small table sat at the center of the room an ashtray, a notebook, a pen, and a small inkwell set on top of it. Rayne thanked Lucy with a look, and pulled her legs to her chest as she sat down. Lucy stepped towards her kitchen.

“I don’t know what to do, Lucy” Rayne said, tears beginning to flow from her eyes, as the magnitude of what happened hit her like a stone. “Whatever you have to do, Ray” she answered simply. Rayne turned to face her friend, as the sound of glasses clinking filled the silence. The light, pastel yellow walls of the home were a stark contrast to the stained wood that made up most of the cabinetry in Lucy’s kitchen. It was separated from the living room nothing more than a stone island. The girl moved from one of the glass-doored cupboards, an empty glass in each hand, to the refrigerator. A small, cube-shaped appliance that used a more focused cooling unit. The city had deemed them a “necessity”. Rayne tended to agree. Lucy opened the small door, and pulled out a pitcher of water. She filled each glass slowly. The silence in the room stretched.

Lucy walked back into her living room, and wordlessly handed Rayne a glass of water. Rayne suddenly realized how parched she was, gulping the water down greedily, spilling some of it on herself. Lucy stared at her, and couldn’t help but laugh. Rayne glared at her, indignant. “What? That was funny” the girl said, and Rayne huffed in response. Two small thumps sounded as they both put down their drinks. Or in Rayne’s case, just the empty glass. More silence. It stood between the two of them like a wall. Rayne wrung her hands, her left foot taping anxiously. Lucy didn’t know what to do to comfort her friend. “What am I supposed to do? They’ll exile me, Lucy. Or worse. Brand me.” Rayne said, her breathing coming fast and shallow. She was shaking. “you were right. I shouldn’t have said anything to anyone, I should’ve-“ Rayne began. “shh, shh. No. It’s okay” Lucy interjected, pulling Rayne in for a hug.

“It’s going to be okay Ray, I promise. We’ll figure something out, alright?” She said, as silent tears carved rivulets across the dust and dirt on Rayne’s face. Rayne held tight to Lucy, her soft crying and the low hum of magic the only sounds in the room. Lucy did her best to help, brushing Rayne’s hair with her fingers and whispering comfort. Slowly, the tears stopped, replaced by hard determination. “I have to get out of the city.” Rayne muttered, and Lucy’s eyes widened. “What do you mean get out of the city?” this hadn’t been what she meant when she said “figure something out”. In fact, it sounded completely insane to her.

“Exactly what I said. I’ll go somewhere else.” Rayne responded, confidence returning to her voice as she remembered the stories Master Ethan had told her. She leaned forward, a smile growing on her face. Wondrous sights awaited her. Briefly, the weight lifted. And then Lucy asked her questions: “Yeah? How? Where to? What’s your plan?” Lucy’s eyes locked with Rayne’s, and Lucy could see some of the fire leaving her friend’s eyes. Her own heart fell. “I… haven’t gotten that far yet.” Rayne answered, somewhat deflated. she sighed, and leaned back into the couch, raising her arm to cover her face.

Lucy stared at her. Rayne dropped her arm back down, her head leaning backwards. Lucy’s gaze wandered from Rayne, settling instead on random objects in her living room. The glasses on the table. The rings they left on the wooden table as a tiny amount of condensation dripped down their sides. She looked up, to the cabinet against the far wall, opposite the kitchen. Her eyes rested on the dishes she saw through the glass doors of the cabinet. She knew that each one was decorated with a different alsamari. Alsamari...? Lucy thought, an idea forming. She sat bolt upright. “Ray, what about an airship?” Lucy asked excitedly, looking right at her friend. Rayne’s confused expression gave way to understanding. “It would have to be one of the smaller ones” Rayne said, almost to herself. “Something I could operate by myself.”

“The fishermen.” The two said simultaneously. Their eyes locked in surprise, and neither could stifle a laugh. Lucy’s expression became more serious. “So. Steal one of the smaller airships the fishermen use?”

“Steal one of the smaller airships. Yes.” Rayne repeated, rubbing her hands together nervously. Lucy grabbed Rayne’s hands to still them. “I can get you some stuff you need from the tower. As long as you don’t open the door for anyone, you should be fine” Lucy said, getting up. “Let me get dressed” she continued, walking into a hall opposite the kitchen. Rayne stared down at her hands, and nodded. It was time to come up with a plan.

Lucy walked quickly to her room, her steps carrying her past two other doors before she finally reached the correct one. She stepped inside, and sat down on her bed. She brought her hands up to her chest. Her heart was pounding, and her breaths came quickly. She felt tears begin to form in her eyes. The thought of Rayne being chased down by the Haralam, being branded, was too much. She blinked away the tears, and stood back up. She needed to look strong. Rayne needed somebody to rely on. Lucy had long ago resolved to be that person.

She opened her closet and pulled on her technomage attire as quickly as she could. Undershirt. Shirt. Jacket. Leggings. Pants. Boots. Tool belt. One after the other. A moment’s pause before she slid her hand into a corner and pulled a stuffed coin purse out of a boot. Her savings. Lucy grabbed a large empty pack, and threw the coin purse inside of it without hesitation. A short turn on her heel, and she left the room.

Rayne was still sitting on the couch when Lucy returned, muttering to herself in concentration. Lucy looked at her, and knew better than to try and tell Rayne anything. None of it would get through. Rayne’s eyes were closed, and Lucy could almost see the cogs turning in her brain. “While you do your part, I’ll do mine.” She whispered, her grip on the pack tightening.

First, the tower. Then the market. She had some things to buy. Lucy took a single step before she was interrupted by a series of light taps. She turned to see Rayne, eyes still closed and still muttering, gesturing slowly to a piece of paper on the table. Lucy grabbed it to find a list of books and other things Rayne wanted her to get. At the bottom of the note, a scribbled “thank you”, and a small heart. Lucy smiled despite the day’s events. “Pack some supplies while I’m gone.” She said, hoping Rayne would hear her. Rayne nodded silently, and Lucy turned to leave.

Rayne had sunk into her own mental world. She could see the docks as if she were there. The sailors and fishermen walking around. The warehouses on one side varying from incredibly decrepit with peeling paint, to new and well-guarded. She swept her imaginary gaze to the opposite direction, seeing the chasm. It looked like a gaping maw, growing darker the farther it went down, as if the sun itself wanted to avoid whatever was far below. The docks thrust themselves out into the empty space, making the chasm look like a far-too-wide skeletal grin from above.

The docks were fairly neatly split between cargo and passenger airships, and the fishermen. That was lucky for her, because it meant that all of the likely targets would be in the same place. It was just a question of getting there unseen. She drew on her years working in the city to see a map of the area closest to the docks, zooming out in her mind. Lines drew themselves across the vision, intersecting and splitting apart as she tried to decide what path would be the best.

An echoing bang came from outside, shattering her concentration with a start. Her eyes shot open and heart nearly burst out of her chest before her brain realized it was the sound of a conduit rupturing somewhere nearby. She leaned back into the couch again, trying to slow her breathing.

Rayne looked around herself as she tried to calm down from the surprise. She had been in Lucy’s home before, and it always gave her the same cozy feeling. Even now, in the midst of everything that was happening, she felt comfortable here. Safe. The ceiling was low, but not low enough that any adult would need to bend down. Simple paintings decorated the walls, giving the room some life. A small climate control apparatus sat in the corner of the room. It drew on magic to cool things down if needed. They were expensive to purchase, and expensive to run. Rayne assumed Lucy’s family only used it in the dead of summer, when it got so hot it was dangerous.

Rayne realized she was hungry, and stood up to go into the kitchen. She dug a small piece of alsamari out of the refrigerator. She took a few steps towards the stove. She had thought as a child that their use of adapted runic technology, using stored magical energy to generate fire, was incredible. She sighed, grabbed a pan from one of the hooks above the stove and poured a small amount of oil into it. The smell of fried fish quickly began to fill the air.

Rayne continued to refine her plan as she cooked. Lucy was right. If her goal was the leave the city, she wouldn’t be able to just walk. They were surrounded all sides by desert. Caravans would come through, but for the most part, her city was isolated. She was in luck, however. Periodically, the technomages had to fix something on one of the airships. Seeing them up close had made her curious, so she had done some reading about them. She was fairly confident she could get one off the ground, and direct it once it was in the air.

She flipped the fish, some of the sizzling oil getting onto her arm. She cursed under her breath. The problem would be actually getting to one of the airships. With the Peacekeepers undoubtedly still in the streets, it’s not like she could walk there directly. Rayne had asked Lucy to bring her a change of clothes, as well as a spare set of tools. They would be cheap, but they would have to do. Thoughts of the leviathan leapt unbidden to her mind, and she grimaced. Part of her wished she had never seen it. A much larger part was curious. What are they. The smell of burning began to waft from the fish. She cursed her wandering attention again before grabbing one of the plates decorated with alsamari and unceremoniously upending the pan over it.

She sat back down, feeling the weight of the stone in her pocket as she placed the plate down on the table. It was still there. She let out a sigh of relief. Whatever it was, she had promised Master Ethan she’d take care of it. She pulled a piece of the alsamari off with her fingers. It was hotter than she expected, and she passed it from hand to hand before tossing it into her mouth and burning her tongue. “ah, ah, stupid!” she muttered, before briefly wondering if Master Ethan would want the stone back. Not that it mattered, she had no way of getting it to him without getting herself caught.

She pulled the gem out of her pocket with one hand, as she gingerly blew on the fish. She was as mesmerized by it as she had been the first time. She stared at it. It seemed to pulse in her hand, and she was confident the warmth it gave off wasn’t due to her body heat. It drew in all of her attention. As if begging her to understand. She shook her head. It was a pretty rock. Maybe it was infused with magic, but that should be the extent of it. Somehow though, she knew that wasn’t it. This was something else. She had asked Lucy to bring her any books she could find on “runestones”. Hopefully that would help.

Rayne put it carefully back into her pocket. She couldn’t afford to worry about it now. She realized she was thirsty again. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water, downing it quickly, and then getting another. This one she drank slowly, standing near the island that separated the kitchen from the rest of the room. The liquid cooled her down and soothed her burnt tongue. She started to think. About what it was that she was actually going to do. That everything would be different from now on.

All of her realizations seemed to hit her at once, and her knees nearly buckled. She almost dropped the glass. Rayne grabbed the island with one hand. Her knuckles went white with the strain, and she scrunched her eyes shut. She was being chased out. If she didn’t run, she would probably end up dead. Even if she did run, she might end up dead anyway. She would be leaving the city she had spent her whole life in. She would be leaving everyone behind. She would be, for the first time in her life, truly alone. She couldn’t ask Lucy to abandon her family, her entire life. Rayne started to shake, and her tears started to flow. She put down the glass and sunk to the floor. She cried silently, sitting on the floor of Lucy’s kitchen. She usually wasn’t a very emotional person. But today hadn’t been easy so far. She didn’t think it was going to get any better.

She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. What came next didn’t matter. Like Lucy said, Rayne would do whatever she had to. And what she had to do was escape. What came afterwards, would come. But if she didn’t get out while she could, then there would be no future for her anyway. She begun to run her plan through her head again, trying to figure out as much as she could about how to actually reach the docks. That was the important part. Or, one of the important parts anyway. She would need basic supplies, like Lucy had mentioned. Rayne went over to Lucy’s room, and grabbed one of the packs that her friend used to sometimes carry extra equipment. She started to fill it with food, bottles of water, and anything else she could think of. Once she was done, she would eat her fish.

Two hours or so later, after Rayne had already started pacing, Lucy arrived. She was carrying the things that Rayne had asked her to bring. But she had also brought more. “Here’s some replacement tools, Ray. I know you lost some of yours.” She offered, smiling. The tools that Lucy held out seemed new. More than new, they were pristine. Rayne ran her hand over one of the tools, a small hook that served to separate conduits that had somehow gotten entangled. She recognized the metal they were made of. An alloy that had only recently been discovered. The tools seemed to shine and change colors as they caught the light. The tools wouldn’t break, they wouldn’t fail her, and best of all: they came with magnetic clamps that served to make sure she wouldn’t ever lose them. The tools must have must have been incredibly expensive. Rayne, awestruck, took them carefully. “where… where did you get these?” she asked, wonder coloring her face.

“You know how I’ve been saving up for a while? I decided that this was the best thing to use the money for” Lucy answered, the smile never leaving her face. “I wasn’t about to let you leave without some good tools, was I?” she continued, and Rayne was awestruck. She didn’t let her wonder show, however. “Lucy, are you crazy? That was the money you’ve been saving up for years.” Rayne said, pulling her hand back from the tools. Lucy shook her head. “What was I really going to do with it, Rayne? Really? Something better than make sure you have what you need?” She countered, and Rayne shook her head. Lucy sighed, and hugged Rayne, who arms were limp for a moment before returning the gesture. “I’ve already bought them, and I’m not taking them back. They’re yours.” Lucy pulled away, and handed Rayne the tools one by one.

Rayne put them in her belt as Lucy handed them to her, clipping the magnets into place and attaching the tools to them, taking particular care with the knife. She swept the loose piece of clothing Lucy had brought over herself, pulling the hood up and the pack on. Hopefully this works she thought. Rayne looked over at Lucy, who was adjusting her own cloak. “What do you think you’re doing, Lucy?” she asked, and Lucy looked startled. “Coming with you, obviously.” She answered, but Rayne shook her head. “You can’t. I can’t let you leave everything behind for me. What’re your parents going to do when they get home and you aren’t here?”

“Rayne, it’s okay, I’ve-“ Lucy began, but Rayne raised a hand to silence her. “No, Lucy. You have a life her. A family. Friends. I’ve been alone before. I grew up that way. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going to let you do this alone, Ray.” Lucy argued. Rayne sighed. “Lucy, please. I can’t do this to you. I can’t let you leave with me, and I can’t have my last memory of you be us fighting. Please.” Rayne begged. Lucy pursed her lips, and sighed. She hugged Rayne, hard. Tears began to swim in her eyes. She knew Rayne was right. Lucy stepped away, and gave Rayne a quick nod. Rayne opened the door, and slipped back onto the streets. She blinked away tears for what felt like the thousandth time in the last few hours. She gathered herself, and started to move towards her objective.

Others were walking around wearing almost the exact same thing she was. Unfortunately, the clothes she was wearing underneath and her tool belt were slightly visible as bulges. She hoped that whoever looked at her would be too distracted by the pack she was carrying to notice anything amiss.

She had to force herself to walk at the same pace as everyone else. Had to force her eyes to look straight ahead. Force her breathing to stay steady. The Haralam seemed to be everywhere. On every corner almost. Rayne considered taking side streets, as she had before, but immediately decided it was a bad idea. If there weren’t people around for her to blend in with, she wouldn’t exactly be blending in, would she? She felt her nerves getting to her.

Rayne stuck to the main thoroughfares. She barely saw the city as she slowly walked through it. Just a day ago, she would have noticed the piping carrying magic energy into and over the buildings. She would have noticed the bustle of people, the shouting, the thrum of life. As it were, however, she saw none of it. She looked straight ahead, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

As she approached the chasm, she felt safer. There were more people here. It served as the city’s main port, and most trade came through on one or another airship. Many of the citizens also owned their own personal ships. She was hoping to steal one of the personal ones. Right now though, she didn’t really care about why there were small airships. Only that she would be able to take one. And if she were careful, she would look like just another airfisher.

Finally, she turned onto the street that bordered the chasm. Calling it a street was probably a disservice though. It was at least twice as wide as any other street in the city. Giving the warehouses and mechanics the space they needed to work on everything that might come in, be it the goods the airships brought or the airships themselves. The air here smelled strongly of machine oil, sweat, fish and the myriad of spices that came through the docks. It was a vaguely familiar scent. When the wind was right, it was possible to catch a whiff even in the tower. Burly airmen and dockworkers pushed roughly past her as she walked slowly in their way. Their bare arms decorated with ritualistic scars representing their years of experience and accomplishments. For now, she was being ignored. She was just another person walking along the docks.

She looked towards the edge of the docks. The airships that were anchored came in more shapes and sizes than she could count. There didn’t seem to be anything like a “standard”. She remembered reading somewhere that shipwrights all operated on custom orders. She was inclined to believe that statement. Some of the ships were simple. Straight hulls, shaped slightly to reduce drag. She watched as a man passed a barrel to a woman, who walked along the docks with it. The wood the hulls of the ships were made of was always surprisingly thin. A variety of colors painted onto them. Some were being repainted as she watched. Some had figureheads. Dragons, birds of prey, legends. Others were decorated in tribal designs, hard edges and smooth curves merging into mesmerizing shapes. They were one of the few bright and colorful things about her city.

All of them seemed to float weightlessly thanks to the large balloons that were an integral part of their construction. Magic held them up, Rayne knew, and the balloons served as containers for it. No gas would be able to lift the ships by itself. She looked at one ship, whose hull was shaped around its balloon like a grasping set of claws. Others looked more traditional, their hulls simply hanging below the balloons, tethered with thick rope and cable. Those were the ones Rayne was looking for. She had never actually handled one of the airships, and keeping it simple was probably best.

Rayne realized she had been staring, and got back to moving. The sound of engines running filled her ears. The propellers that drove and maneuvered the airships were louder than she remembered, and competed with the sounds of the cranes. Her breath started to get shallow. A man yelled at her to get out of the way, and she ducked as one of boxes that hung below the cranes swung above her. “Hey!” she couldn’t stop herself from yelling, but the man ignored her. Rayne looked up at the crane. A large wooden structure with pulleys and winches along the length, connected to a runic engine at the base that served to carry the weight. This particular crane had a counterweight hanging from a crossbar, so it could carry heavier loads. She ducked her head, and pulled her cloak tighter around herself.

Rayne made her way through the crowd, noticing a small amount of Haralam. Her blood chilled. It would be trivial to stop her if anyone noticed what she was doing. She tugged her hood down farther, and kept walking. The sand-swept stone and wood beneath her feet filled her vision for a few moments as she walked only a few feet or so in front of one of the people she was convinced was hunting for her. She raised her eyes, and scoured the docks. Trying desperately to find an airship that she could steal. She didn’t let her gaze linger on the cranes, as the ships they were unloading would be too large. She could feel every beat of her heart.

The noise, the smell, the sights, the people, all suddenly became overwhelming. She turned into a side alley as her throat threatened to constrict. Rayne tried to follow the calming exercises that Master Ethan had taught her. She squeezed her eyes shut, and cupped her hands over her ears. Her mind raced. What if she didn’t find a way out? What if she was stuck here? What if there were no small airships today, so soon after a sand storm? Rayne didn’t know what she would do if she were branded, all she knew how to do was related to runic technology. To have that torn away from her. She forced the thought to stop.

Suddenly, a tap on her shoulder. Rayne whirled around, wild-eyed, and found Lucy behind her. Lucy’s face was set with a determined expression. “What are you doing here?” Rayne hissed, balling her hands into fists. “Making sure you don’t get yourself caught. Or worse. Killed.” Lucy retorted, crossing her arms. “I told you to stay home, Lucy! What about your parents?” Rayne asked desperately. “I don’t want to drag you into this!” she continued. Lucy shook her head. “My parents will be fine, Rayne. But you might not be if I don’t help you.” The girl said, her jaw set. Rayne looked away, conflicting emotions running through her. She wanted Lucy to come, but it wasn’t safe.

Lucy interrupted Rayne’s train of thought by pointing back outside the alley, toward the docks. Rayne’s eyes found what Lucy was pointing at. A small, seven or eight person Airship, being tied to the dock by the owner. The hull was sleek, and it looked like it would be fast. Even the balloon was designed to be aerodynamic. Better yet, only one man had been piloting it. Rayne turned back to face Lucy, who had raised an eyebrow. Rayne sighed, and then hugged Lucy again. “Thank you. So much. I’m sorry for all this. I know you don’t believe that I saw anything.” Rayne whispered and Lucy smiled, hugging her back. “I’ll have you pay me back for it later, don’t worry.”

Lucy Let go, and Rayne turned back to face the ship. Rayne felt for the large knife at her waist, which would serve to sever the rope holding the airship down. She thumbed the edge, making sure it was sharp. Lucy’s steady breathing from beside her helped calm her nerves. A minute passed, and then another. The man tying the knots cursed as his hand slipped. He started over. Rayne was getting impatient. It wouldn’t do to screw up now, she thought, as one of the Haralam decided to stand just ahead of the two of them. Lucy’s eyes widened in disbelief, Rayne had to stop herself from swearing. Their luck couldn’t possibly be this bad, could it?

Lucy looked at Rayne and pointed at herself, and then the Haralam. Rayne nodded. The man had finished his knot and started walking away. It was now or never. Lucy gestured forward, and ran straight into the Haralam, shoving whoever it was hard. The person fell sideways, hands slapping hard against the street. By then, Rayne had crossed half the distance to the airship. People had noticed. Someone reached out to stop her. She ducked under their grasping hands, slipping the knife out of its sheath. She sliced the rope with one fluid motion, and leapt onto the airship.

She landed, sprawling onto the deck. The wood groaned at her sudden arrival and shouts followed after her. She turned back to find Lucy be grabbed by someone just before she could get on. Rayne ran forwards and pulled Lucy out of the airman’s grip just as her friend kicked him backwards. She pulled Lucy aboard, handing her the pack she was carrying. While Rayne ran towards the helm, Lucy saw a hole leading below and threw all of their supplies inside. She made it to the helm just as Rayne pulled the lever that controlled how fast the airship rose as far as it would go.

“Come on, come on.” Rayne muttered, as magic from the reservoir under-deck surged through serpentine conduits into the balloon above her. She imagined she could see it bubbling upwards, almost hungrily, through the coils near her. Lucy looked up, waiting desperately. She heard feet hitting the deck in front of her just as the airship surged upward. Their screams were drowned out by the rush of wind as they were nearly thrown off. Rayne clutched grimly to the railing to try and steady herself, while Lucy’s hands clung to her like vices.

Rayne looked over to see the Haralam Lucy had pushed down crouched low against the wood of the ship. Fear colored the person’s face for a moment before they broke into a charge towards her. The two girls wouldn’t win in a fight against a trained soldier. Rayne flipped the lever back down in the other direction, forcing the ship into a steep dive.

Rayne held onto the railing for dear life as the nose of the ship plunged downwards into the chasm. Her eyes watered from the wind, but she could feel Lucy next to her, pulling the lever back up to right the ship again. The two looked up only to see the Haralam be flung off the edge and into the depths below. Lucy’s chest tightened. The Haralam’s face, a mix of disbelief and pure terror, was etched into her mind. “It was you or us” she said to the empty air. Rayne squeezed her hand and pulled on her goggles.

Lucy did the same, and Rayne began accelerating out of the chasm, as quickly as she could. Behind them, she heard the fading sounds of people running to the edge, trying to find out what had just happened. Other airships began the process of lifting off, clearly wanting to give chase. Lucy hoped the two of them would get far enough away before they could catch up.

They cleared the city, and looped upwards in the opposite direction. Rayne had decided she would follow the nearby river to the sea, and then go up the coast. Below her, the city they had lived in their whole lives looked small. The towers rising up from it like the grasping, skeletal fingers of a dying man. The hard part of Rayne’s heart thought it was an apt image. The two girls held hands. Squeezing tightly. The rocky plateaus the city was built on jutted out of the desert. Dunes spread all around below them, wind-worn in their reds, yellows, and browns. The sun above threatened to burn their skin, the water below glittered in the radiant light. It was the most beautiful thing Rayne had ever seen. She was about to leave it behind forever. And she was taking her best friend with her.

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