Fyre Fly: Chapter 48 – New Horizons

Ten days passes a lot faster than you would think when hitting the time limit means your city falls out of the sky.

After our initial exciting foray into the Drifting Isles, we return with much of the city’s guards. We take as much as the hydra meat as we can to preserve it, and spend several days rooting out any other major threats. The flock of griffons are a real danger, but they also appear to stick to their territory, so they can be dealt with later. The amphiptere also makes a cautious reappearance, but with Ollie around, it keeps its distance.

Over the next week we map out the rest of the city, documenting the different levels and their contents, and recording which animals can be found where—and which territories to avoid. We try to leave as much of the ecosystem intact as possible, only killing when it becomes apparent that the predators will be an active and persistent threat. From the hydra alone, we already have more meat than we know what to do with.

The final three days are spent slowly easing the Fortress into the Isles, which is significantly more troublesome than it at first appeared.

Some of the floating stones, especially toward ground level, are too large to easily move out of the Fortress’s way. And since they twist up the funnel like a spiral staircase, finding a suitable gap in the mesh of vines and cloudstone is easier said than done. All this is made double difficult by the storm arcanum-infused cloud, which prevents anyone from seeing through it, no matter how many harpies try to blow it apart.

Even so, we’re able to inch the Fortress inside. The city takes up about a fifth of the base level, and we hover there, the lowest stabilizers just meters above the ground, as we discuss the best place to settle. In the end we decide on the middle; it puts us equidistant from the stepping stones, some ruins, and the lake, while also leaving a large, open field that could be developed for agriculture.

Landing the city is its own ordeal.

“We’re in position,” Mirzayael thinks. “Don’t wait too long or Dizzi might have a heart attack. She’s flying circles around the other harpies, making sure everyone knows what to look for.”

The plan is for Dizzi and the other harpies to act as my eyes, and to relay any needed adjustments through Mirzayael. In an ideal world I’d also be outside, tweaking things on the fly, but I know the modifications I’m about to make to the city will likely pull me too deep into the Dungeon Core to be aware of my body. In a rare turn of events, I’m actually seated on the throne. I can almost feel the Core’s presence in the stone just behind my head.

“You can tell Dizzi I’m about to begin,” I reply to Mirzayael, mentally reaching for the Dungeon Core.

Much like Dizzi, the Core is also buzzing with excitement. It knows it’s about to have more rocks to explore. The longer we’ve been aloft, the more the Dungeon Core has been bemoaning its extreme boredom. Whenever it gets especially depressed, Ollie flies down to the surface and brings back a clawful of dirt and rocks for the Core to eat, reminding it that we’ll be landing soon. That always cheers the Core right up, but the effect is only temporary, and the days between its complaints have steadily been decreasing.

Is it time? The Core ping pongs around my head. Can it eat all the tasty rocks it’s not been allowed to eat all this time? It has done so well at not eating the tasty rocks.

Yes, I think with a chuckle. You’ve done very well. But we’re going to have to go about this methodically. I’ll be maneuvering the city down while you devour the cloudstone base from the ground up. We’re going to have to time this carefully so we don’t drop the city. As soon as we settle down, I’ll give you more mana to expand into the surrounding land. Alright?

Surrounding land! It can’t wait to expand.

After we touch down, I emphasize. Though honestly, I’m not really sure it absorbed any of those instructions; I’ve yet to see evidence it can hold onto more than one thought at a time. I’ll just have to walk it through what I need as I need it.

Alright. Here we go.

First I put us into a gradual descent. Very gradual. Momentum can build up far too quickly with this much mass.

After a few minutes, Mirzayael speaks up. “Dizzi says the lowest rudders are about to make contact.”

Core, I think, maneuvering our mental Map. I bring us down to the bottom of the base of the city and point out the lowest hanging stabilizers. You can eat these first.

Okay! The Core happily munches up the rock. Rock that I used the Dungeon Core to create in the first place. Usually it complains about eating rock it’s already eaten once before, but it’s either just desperate to eat anything, or wildly inconsistent with what it does and doesn’t like to eat on any given day.

Probably both.

Once those are gone, I continue to lower the city. Mirzayael gives me updates on the space between the surface and the lowest point of the cloudstone base, and I continue to have the Core gradually erode the cloudstone beneath us.

And then we make contact. Mirzayael tells me at the same time I feel it: the Fortress won’t lower any further because something is in our way. I start to feed a trickle of mana into the Dungeon Core so it can expand into the ground, allowing us to “see” it. This is where things will start to get tricky.

There is so much cloudstone beneath the city that if we stopped now, the city wall would be a good five stories above ground level. I’m not sure we’ll be able to fully get it flush with the ground, but I’m going to try to get it as close as possible. Unfortunately, the more cloudstone we eat away, the less the city will be able to stay aloft, and by the time it’s settled on the ground, it would be risky to simply vanish the ground beneath it, lest the entire city fall and become damaged.

The Dungeon Core sets to work following my plan, flattening both the ground its range is expanding into and the bottom of the Fortress. Gradually the Fortress lowers, and through the Dungeon Core I can feel the weight of the Fortress steadily pressing down on the earth below. It’s getting heavier by the minute, picking up speed as its buoyancy decreases and its base sinks further into the earth.

We’re going too slow. I’m still worried about dropping the city if we go to fast, but now a fresh danger has presented itself; if we don’t get the Fortress settled soon, the city might tip onto its side.

Stop eating the cloudstone, I quickly tell the Core. Eat away the earth beneath it instead. Anywhere the cloudstone touches, take that dirt into your Inventory.

Yay! New dirt!

The Dungeon Core happily complies, sinking its teeth into the ground.

I pay close attention to every contact point as the Fortress steadily sinks. My mind is spread across the base of the entire kingdom, keeping track of dozens of elements at once. I feel stretched. My mind split so many ways. But I can’t stop now; the fate of the entire city depends on it. I strain to stay focused, leaning on the Dungeon Core for strength as it easily splits its attention a hundred ways at once, steadily carving out the ground.

After an eternity, Mirzayael’s voice reappears in my mind. “It’s level,” she reports. “The base of the city is flush with the ground. You did it.”

I let go of the Dungeon Core, falling back into the throne with a gasp. That’s it, I tell the Core, breathing hard as if I’d just run a mile. You can stop.

Awww. But what if it doesn’t want to stop?

I rub my forehead. The world feels like it’s tipping. If it weren’t for Mirzayael and Dizzi’s confirmation that I’ve settled it properly, I’d think we were leaning to one side.

You can explore the area, I say, giving it more mana to expand into the Drifting Isles. But no eating just yet.

It fakes a pout, but it’s actually quite happy to go tunneling through the ground. I put some space between our minds as I try to clear my head.

There’s a strange sound outside. A faint roar. It’s only when I hear someone closer, within the palace, that I realize what I’m hearing.

It’s cheers. The entirely of Fyreneth’s Fortress is cheering.

It takes that long for the reality of the situation to sink in. We did it. We found our new home.

#

There’s still much to do to make this place our own. There’s arcana in the ground, but in the air as well, and as we start measuring the magic density in the area, we find that the source is somewhere near the top of the Drifting Isles, and the magic is effectively pouring down, level by level, to the base. We won’t be able to directly connect the Fortress into the source of the magic, but there’s so much all around us that it’s not an issue. Dizzi’s team of researchers and artificers gets to work on creating spell networks to collect and direct the ambient storm arcana so we can feed it directly into the Fortress’s networks.

I keep, and even expand, the airship dock that we created along the top of the wall. I anticipate we’ll have even more visitors than before. Soon we’ll need to start making airships of our own.

“At that point, we’ll be able to take you to a city of your choice,” I tell Gardi. We’re outside the city, overseeing all the developments that are taking place. It feels so strange to be outside of the Fortress, looking up at it. For a moment I recall the first time I saw it, briefly illuminated by my flames in those distant, dark caverns.

“I see,” Gardi says, exchanging a look with Salvia.

Mirzayael had told Salvia that they no longer needed to escort Gardi around the palace, but they’d continued to spend most of their time together. How strange.

“Now you’re just being cruel,” Mirzayael mentally teases.

“Not intentionally,” I object. “Think of it as a nudge.”

“The same offer extends to you, Sandro,” I continue, watching workers up on the dock. “If you want to be taken anywhere…”

“Oh, no,” Sandro quickly says. “Definitely not. I’d much rather stay here.” Then he looks uncertain. “If that’s okay? I don’t want to assume—”

“Of course it’s okay,” I chuckle.

Relief spills over his face. “Good. Because I was thinking. They say people use wyverns as pets and messengers, right? Well, what if I started training some of them? It would be fun! And also satisfy my Role Requirement. And then maybe we could trade some of them?” Once more he pales. “Unless that’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s a wonderful idea,” I assure him. “In that case, Gardi—”

“My lords, if I may,” Salvia blurts out. They’re standing stiffly, staring at the air between me and Mirzayael.

“Yes?” Mirzayael prompts.

They continue to look at neither of us. “I would like to vouch for Gardi’s character. They may be from Jorria, but it does not define them. They are kind and honest. When fighting the hydra, they saved my life.”

“Only after you saved mine—” Gardi starts.

“As such,” Salvia says, raising their voice. “I would like to request that Gardi be given the opportunity to reside here and become a citizen of our kingdom if they so desire.”

They take in a breath after pushing all their last words out in one.

Mirzayael stares at them for a moment. “Your approval is noted. But I’d like to hear Gardi’s opinion on the matter.”

“Me?” Gardi’s hair poofs up slightly. “I… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“What you want, dear,” I say gently. “If this is where you’d like to stay, or if you’d like to leave. There are no wrong answers. But we must hear it from you.”

Their tail nervously flicks back and forth, and now it’s Gardi who’s avoiding our gaze.

“Ever since Ragna left, I haven’t known what I want,” Gardi admits. “Home feels so far away—and not just by distance. I’d never felt so alone, and you went out of your way to make me feel included. I’ve realized that… a lot of what I was told about Fyrethians isn’t true. That’s been difficult to work through. But you’ve been so patient with me. Probably more than I deserve.”

I smile softly. “Gardi—”

“Please let me finish.” They finally meet my eyes. “I am not yet ready to call this place my home. It is so different from everything I’ve known. I am still adjusting. But Salvia has helped ease that process. And while I am not sure where I want to live, I know that I will be content as long as I am at their side.” Gardi steps forward and takes Salvia’s hand. Salvia is blushing fiercely. “You see, we are courting.”

“Oh!” I say, trying my best to look surprised.

I clearly don’t do a very good job of it.

“You knew?” Salvia says.

“Well,” I say, glancing at Mirzayael, “we had some suspicions…”

“Wait, it was supposed to be a secret?” Sandro says.

Gardi dips their head in embarrassment.

“Sorry!” he quickly backtracks. “Was that rude? It’s none of my business. Even if it was very obvious.”

Salvia shoots Sandro a glare.

“I mean, in a good way!” Sandro shuffles back, his Shroud rippling nervously. “I think I’m going to leave now.”

As Sandro follows through, I find myself chuckling. At Sandro, at Salvia and Gardi, at myself. Why do we make relationships more difficult than they need to be?

Salvia is still holding their chin up, even though their face has nearly turned red from mortification. “I understand if we don’t have your approval. I am willing to accept whatever punishment you administer, though I will not terminate the relationship.”

They’re so fierce—so fierce, and so young. I can’t stop a small laugh from escaping my lips.

“You are not going to be punished,” I assure them. “You are free to date whomever you like.”

Salvia looks between me and Mirzayael, halfway between suspicious and surprised. “Even if they’re not Fyrethian?”

Now it’s Mirzayael who chuckles. “It would be hypocritical of me to condemn a relationship with a foreigner.” She looks at me. “Being Fyrethian is not where you’re born. It’s who you choose to be.”

Affection swells within both of us, reflected back at one another.

“EWWWW!” Ollie abruptly cuts in. “YOU GUYS ARE BEING MUSHY AGAIN!”

I laugh, sequestering our thoughts away from the kid.

Salvia bows low before us, and after a moment of hesitation, Gardi awkwardly dips their head as well.

“Thank you, my lords,” Salvia says, straightening up. “I understand our circumstances are unprecedented, but I appreciate your understanding.”

“Perhaps not as unprecedented as it feels,” Mirzayael says, turning her attention back to the couple. “Our people have been at odds for generations, but in Fyreneth’s day, her city was open to everyone. She encouraged people from every species and kingdom to visit and make a home within her walls. Maybe it’s time we more proactively seek to revitalize her vision.”

I’m overcome with such pride to hear Mirzayael speak those words. She’s had such a hard life, filled with heartache and loss. And yet, she was brave enough to open her heart to someone new. She was strong enough to look past Gardi’s origins. She’s compassionate enough to recreate Fyreneth’s vision, despite every instinct she learned warning her otherwise.

In the time that I’ve been at her side, I’ve witnessed her bloom in ways I never would have imagined.

Then again, I’m sure I’ve also changed in subtle ways that have taken place too slowly for me to notice as well.

“Thank you, my lords,” Salvia repeats. They’re still holding Gardi’s hand. They both stand there awkwardly for a moment.

“You can leave,” I permit, trying not to laugh. Ah, to be young. “And in case it’s not clear, Salvia, you are no longer assigned to accompany Gardi. And Gardi, you are no longer to be monitored. You will be considered a guest to the Fortress until you have any desire to change that. Perhaps you can help them find appropriate accommodations, Salvia?”

“Right away, my lords,” they say, taking the suggestion as seriously as an order.

I don’t have the opportunity to clarify myself before the two are hurrying off. Gardi says something to Salvia, and then the harpy does something I haven’t witnessed since their father’s death: they laugh.

Sandro also departs soon after that, excitedly saying something about wyverns and ‘training facilities’ I don’t quite understand. Mirzayael and I stroll through the valley, blue sky far ahead, and soft grass beneath our feet.

“What you said about proactively pursuing Fyreneth’s vision,” I venture. “I have a selfish question to ask.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Mirzayael remarks.

“It is!” I insist. “In a way.” I watch some of the workers picking their way over the hydra’s carcass, cleaning and disassembling the bones. I’m not sure what we’ll use them for, but I’m certainly they’ll be put to use.

“I’d like to try to find more people like Sandro,” I finally say. “I worry that a lot of them are suffering from their role requirements without support. Blair and Lisari indicated there were many more—both captured, and freely wandering the world. I’m not sure what I can do for those who are already in the gods’ custody, but our mobility at least makes it easier to search for the ones who haven’t yet been captured.”

“And how exactly is this selfish?” Mirzayael asks.

“It might put the Fyrethians in danger,” I say. “Now that we’re somewhere stable and have access to a new supply of magic, losing the Dungeon Core doesn’t mean we lose the Fortress. But accumulating Travelers will likely make us a target.”

Mirzayael snorts. “Fyre, are you planning to leave the Fortress?”

“What?” I cry. “No! Of course not.”

“Is Ollie?”

“No…”

“Sandro?”

I think I see her point. “We being here already makes us a target.”

“I doubt the number of Travelers you find will change that,” Mirzayael says. “But it’s an irrelevant fear, regardless.” Her eyes flash with sudden fierceness. “I will not allow the gods to take you away. I will not allow them to hurt anyone under our kingdom’s protection.”

There is a part of me that is frightened by her conviction. I worry she’ll do something rash to back those words. I wonder if Fyreneth had sworn something similar.

But her determination isn’t without justification. The fourth watchtower is nearing completion, and that will be the real test of our ability to withstand the gods.

I try to let go of my fears. There’s nothing we can do about it at this moment. For now, it’s enough to have Mirzayael’s steadfast support.

“Thank you.” I look up at her to find she’s already looking down at me with a fond smile. “For everything.”

“Everything? That’s quite a lot,” she teases.

I shake my head with a quiet laugh. “Alright, then. Thank you for this life.”

Her playful look fades. “That’s still quite a lot.”

“It is,” I agree. “But this life has been more than I ever could have hoped for. I’ve never been so happy and felt so much at home. Sometimes it feels like more than I deserve.”

“Fyre,” Mirzayael says quietly. She bends her legs to lower herself to my eye level. It’s close enough to see her faint freckles. I love her freckles. She reaches out to cup my cheek. “You deserve the world.”

She’s got it entirely backward. How can she not see that? I place a hand over hers, but before I can say as much, she gently pulls me in.

As we kiss, the evidence I was assembling to the contrary crumbles away.

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Author's Note: Thanks for reading :) This is the last main chapter of Fyre Fly: Book 2 of Fyre. There will still be a third and final book to this trilogy... and a crossover with Kanin in Kanin's next book! You don't have to read it between now and Book 3 of Fyre, but you'll probably enjoy seeing her from an outside perspective.

The epilogue to this book posts on Monday, and I'll update you with more information about Book 3 at that time. <3

P.S. I got a doodle of Sandro raising some wyverns for you