The longer Xenia spent in the cold on the Sky Port's platform, the stronger her growing sense of unease became. And for her, that meant something. If anything managed to unsettle her, it usually involved either her father or her sister, sometimes even Lady Hilla – and depending on how one looked at them, one could argue they were dangerous people.
Something was wrong here. No one should have known about the Ariana's special cargo, at least not that it was of such importance to her father. No one except Lord Askar, Velora, herself, and the ship's captain – a man who was a loyal servant of the house.
And yet, as she scanned her surroundings, she became increasingly certain that someone else did in fact know very well. The soldiers had managed to get back on their feet, but less than twenty minutes ago, they had been dead drunk. Sure, today was the Feast of the Metallic, but Xenia doubted most of these men were devout followers of the Steamchurch.
No, it was far more likely they had used the occasion as an excuse to drink on duty. And as Xenia counted the crates stacked around the platform, only one thought crossed her mind:
Who in the name of the flying whale brings this much wine?
There were at least eight crates filled to the brim with bottles. Enough to supply three taverns for half a year – probably. But surely, this was far too much for soldiers of House Jarakan, let alone those stationed at the Red Ship.
The supposed member of the Steamchurch – the soldiers had spoken of a man with an accent who had so graciously delivered the wine – was nowhere to be seen. But something he had left behind was this crate.
The one with the false bottom and the hidden wall.
Xenia couldn't stand it any longer. She felt restless, on edge. Velora seemed to be on high alert as well. Of course she was, she was always the dutiful daughter.
Meanwhile, their father was still busy berating the soldiers. Of course she could understand why. Whatever the Airship held, it was very important, and her father wanted everything to be perfect… but at this point, it was a waste of time.
Whatever he wanted to retrieve from the Ariana, he should do it now.
There was no way Xenia would let the day her father entrusted her with such responsibility end in failure.
"Father!" she called out. "We should hurry–"
Was that a star?
No, not a star.
High above, on the bridge of the enormous airship, something burned. A bright red point of liquid fire lit up the dark and misty night of Last Bay.
A flare? Why would someone be lighting–
"A signal!" she exclaimed as the realization struck her, her eyes widening.
Something had gone terribly wrong. Likely many things.
Her gaze shot to her father. He was staring up at the mysterious signal on the bridge as well. The flare's dancing flame reflected in his eyes, his face twisting into a grimace of rage. A cold, bitter rage filled every line of his expression.
"Onto the ship! Now!" he bellowed to the soldiers.
But before the soldiers could stop gawking at the light like moths drawn to a flame, another sound overtook Lord Askar's command. The rattling of gears filled the air, sharp and invasive, seizing everyone's attention. They all turned in unison toward the unexpected noise.
"Sergeant!" Lord Askar growled, his voice falling down on the man like a hammer. The sergeant flinched, almost leaping like a startled cat. "Why is the lift coming up?"
The sergeant blinked, his confusion palpable, the sudden seriousness of the situation visibly crushing him.
"I-I don't know, milord!" he stammered out at last. But what use was such an answer now?
For a moment that must have felt like an eternity to the sergeant, Lord Askar's murderous glare pinned him in place. Then, with a sharp turn, the head of House Jarakan whipped around, his cloak billowing in the wind, and strode toward his two daughters.
"Of course you don't know. No one should know…" he muttered, his tone dripping with venom.
He halted mid-step, as though a terrible realization had struck him. His face darkened so completely that Xenia almost believed she wasn't looking at her father anymore but at a towering elf possessed by the demonic soul of a Soulshifter.
"That greedy whore," he hissed, his gaze snapping to the airship. "She's trying to rat me out."
Xenia wanted to ask who or what he was talking about, but she wasn't foolish enough to interrupt. She didn't even need to activate her Soulart to know that Lord Askar's entire focus was locked on the airship – and the precious cargo inside.
The signal had come from the bridge, and if it wasn't part of some emergency protocol, it could only mean someone else was in there. Someone who absolutely wasn't supposed to be. There could have been other explanations, but at this moment, the worst-case scenario seemed the only plausible one.
"Velora!" Lord Askar snapped. "Prepare the soldiers and make sure no one from that lift gets anywhere near the ship. I don't care if it's the Sky King himself coming up here, they can either leave, or you'll make them leave! I won't allow any more interruptions. Xenia, you're with me!"
The two sisters exchanged surprised glances but didn't hesitate. While Xenia hurried to her father's side, Velora's iron voice was already echoing across the platform: "Get up! Load the crossbows! Form a line! Faster!"
You truly are the born heir, Xenia suddenly thought in that moment, a mix of pride and envy twisting in her chest.
She quickly moved to her father's side. Lord Askar wasted no time, his long strides carrying him toward the Ariana's boarding ramp with unwavering purpose.
"Father," Xenia said, struggling to keep pace with him, "you think someone is attacking us?"
Her father's eyes flicked to her for only a moment, but they were sharp and certain.
"Yes," he said curtly.
Xenia wanted to curse. Actually, she didn't understand why she couldn't. She wasn't a real Lady after all–
Focus!
What was happening here? Who was in that elevator? What was the meaning of her father's sudden coldness, after how closely he had acted with her and Velora?
Was a real fight truly upon them?
But her father didn't need to say more, for at that moment, the great freight elevator reached the platform. Xenia's steps slowed until she came to a halt as the massive doors of the lift creaked open.
Her father did not stop. He didn't even turn around, as though the chaos to come had no significance or consequence for him.
The elevator doors swung wide. For a moment, silence reigned again on the platform, like the calm before the storm.
Then the first masked figures burst forth, followed by dozens more.