Deborah's POV
Chad skillfully piloted the airship, taking me away from Ablach.
As the hum of the engines grew louder, I felt the vibrations beneath my seat gradually steady. The airship ascended slowly, and the buildings outside the window shrank away. Ablach's towering spires became faint silhouettes against the horizon, their sharp lines fading into obscurity.
The cabin brightened as we climbed higher, sunlight streaming through the windows and highlighting the sharp edges of Chad's profile in golden hues. His expression was calm yet focused, his hands deftly navigating the controls. Every movement he made was fluid and precise, effortlessly exuding confidence and control.
The steady rumble of the engines filled the cabin, but it wasn't unpleasant. Instead, it carried a sense of stability, an anchor in the quiet of the sky.
I found myself glancing at Chad more than I should have, unable to ignore the way he seemed entirely at ease. I had to admit, watching him pilot the airship was like stepping back in time. He was as sharp as ever, every action deliberate, every adjustment seamless. He didn't just operate the airship—he commanded it, his mastery evident in every flick of his fingers across the console.
After all, it was Chad who had taught me to fly airships in my previous life.
The airship leveled out, and suddenly, the sky stretched endlessly before me—an expanse of vivid blue and rolling white clouds. The sheer openness took my breath away.
Cold currents buffeted the airship, but it held steady, cutting through the clouds with ease. Through the window, I watched the churning sea of mist, feeling an unexpected sense of peace. In Ablach, a city of steel and precision, I hadn't experienced anything close to this freedom in a very long time.
I took a deep breath, as though the air here, so high above the ground, could cleanse the frustration and tension that had built up inside me. My hand brushed the cool glass of the window as I stared out, the faintest smile touching my lips. This was freedom, I thought to myself.
And with that thought, my mind drifted to the Birdfolk.
Their arrival in Tirfothuinn had transformed everything. For years, we had been confined to the ground, forced to defend against the Sky Cities with limited means. But the Birdfolk had changed all of that. Their presence allowed us not only to defend ourselves but also to launch attacks from the air—something we had never dared to imagine before.
Their wings lifted Tirfothuinn into the skies. They had broken the chains that once bound us to the earth. These ancient and powerful beings had turned the tide of the fight, reshaping the battlefield in ways I could only be grateful for.
The airship sliced through the clouds, and Chad's voice suddenly broke the silence in the cockpit. "How was your stay in Macha?"
His tone was casual, as if he were making small talk, but I knew better. Every question Chad asked carried weight, a hidden purpose beneath his nonchalance.
I hesitated, caught off guard. "It was fine," I said after a moment. "As fine as it could be."
"Just fine?" he repeated, a faint smile playing at his lips. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon, his expression unreadable. "Didn't uncover anything interesting?"
The question hit me like a needle, piercing through my composure. I froze for a moment, unsure of how to respond.
Could I be honest? Of course not. Everything I had learned in Macha had been through the use of Telepathy, and Emily's family would never willingly share such secrets. I couldn't let Chad know about my ability, not under any circumstances.
I turned the ring on my finger absently, trying to maintain a casual tone. "What could they possibly tell me?"
Chad didn't answer right away. He turned his head slightly, just enough to glance at me, then offered a faint, almost cryptic smile. "True. They probably wouldn't trust you too much."
His words sent a shiver down my spine. Was he testing me? Or worse, did he already know something?
"Speaking of trust," Chad continued, his tone unchanging, "I heard Emily's been staying at the Thorne estate. Mr. Edwards wasn't too happy about that."
"I'm aware," I said, keeping my voice steady.
"Interesting," he said, his voice casual yet carrying an undercurrent of something sharper. "I've also heard some things about the Vandran family. They're not as straightforward as they appear."
I forced a smile, one I hoped looked genuine. "Oh? Like what?"
Chad chuckled softly but didn't elaborate. Instead, he turned back to the controls, his hands steady on the flight stick.
I let out a slow breath, relieved but wary. Chad was always difficult to read. He avoided my gaze, likely to avoid the possibility of me using Domination on him. But that didn't mean he wouldn't find other ways to manipulate the situation. Every move he made demanded caution.
The airship sailed on, the silence between us thick and unspoken. I turned my attention back to the window, trying to ground myself in the beauty of the clouds, but the unease lingering in my chest refused to dissipate.
As we pushed through the clouds, sunlight poured into the cockpit, warm and golden. For a moment, I let myself relax, but then a familiar sight appeared through the mist, and my heart sank.
This sky, these clouds, the faint outline of distant mountains—it all struck me at once.
"Wait," I said, my voice sharp with surprise and unease. "This… this is Hybrasil, isn't it?"
Chad tilted his head slightly at my reaction, his expression as calm as ever. "You've never been here, have you? It's one of the abandoned Sky Cities—Hybrasil."
"Hybrasil?" I repeated, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. My lips felt dry, my throat tight. "This place…"
I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. My chest tightened with a pain I couldn't ignore.
Chad didn't seem to notice my distress. He raised an eyebrow, his tone as nonchalant as ever. "What? Don't want to go?"
I shook my head quickly, forcing a calm tone. "Why Hybrasil? You just said it's abandoned."
"Mr. Edwards sent me to handle something," Chad replied, his hands moving fluidly over the controls. "Nothing you need to worry about."
"What kind of something?" I asked carefully, my eyes fixed on him.
He turned to look at me, his lips curling into an ambiguous smile, but he didn't answer. Instead, he said, "It's classified. When we land, I'll take care of my business, and you can… wander around. Pass the time."
I nodded, biting back further questions. "Fine. But… why was Hybrasil abandoned?"
Chad's hands hesitated briefly on the controls before moving again. His expression didn't change as he said, "The balance was broken."
The simplicity of his words was like a blade to my heart.
The balance was broken.
His voice echoed in my mind, each word cutting deeper. I turned away, pretending to look out the window, though my vision blurred with the weight of his statement.
Hybrasil was once my home. It was the land that had given me life, the foundation of everything I was. And now, Chad spoke of it as though it were nothing more than an empty husk, its destruction reduced to a phrase as hollow as "the balance was broken."
He had shattered that balance. He had led the massacre that turned my home into a graveyard, leaving the land barren and lifeless.
My breath hitched, memories tearing through me like jagged glass. My parents, my siblings, my people—they had all perished at his hands. And now, he spoke of it with a detachment that made my blood boil.
I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper, forcing myself to stay composed. "I see…"
The airship began its descent, and Hybrasil's ruins came into view. Familiar outlines emerged—buildings reduced to skeletons, their once-proud forms overtaken by vines and decay.
I closed my eyes, steeling myself against the memories. Hybrasil was no longer the place I had loved. It was a graveyard.
As the airship settled onto the barren ground, Chad unfastened his harness with effortless precision. Without hesitation, he stepped out into the crisp air, his boots crunching against the scattered debris of the remains of what was once a thriving city. I followed closely, the first contact of my shoes with the soil sending an ache through my chest—a reminder that this desolate place had been my home.
Chad's movements were deliberate as he paused briefly, surveying the area. He turned toward me, his expression unreadable, the faintest edge of authority in his voice. "Stay here. I'll handle my business."
Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the ruins, his figure blending with the gray remnants of shattered stone and twisted metal. I stood still, the silence around me broken only by the soft whistle of the wind, carrying with it the faint scent of decay and time long passed.
I stood there, the air thick with the ghosts of my past. This was my land, my family's resting place. No matter how much it had changed, it would always be a part of me.
But now, I had a mission: to find out if the armory still existed.