Her head throbbed when her senses returned. A groan rumbled deep in her throat as she wrenched her eyes open. Darkness was what greeted her. That and the loud rustle of fabric and the scratches of soles against the floor. Stone, from what it sounded like. She twisted her neck, wincing from the shot of pain spearing through her temples. What did they hit her with? Moreover, where was she?
April blinked the darkness away and discovered they were merely black spots dancing in her vision. When her eyes adjusted, she realized there was a small stream of light illuminating the square room coming from the torch stuck into a ring on the wall. Also stone, from the looks of them. Then, her gaze landed on the people loitering on the room with her.
She noted the loose robes, the drawn expressions, and the ones pacing. They were waiting for someone. Or something. The real question was...what?
She lunged forward, aiming to tackle the first Adviser near her. Something bit against her arms and hauled her back. The sound of chains clinking rang in the air, startling the rest of the seated Advisers. They turned to her, faces changing from shock to amusement and intrigue.
With her chest heaving, April felt the bounds around her form. This time, even her wings were tucked inside. When she looked back, she noticed a thick line of chains attached to her bonds, snaking towards another wall. The exit, a door with no glass windows, stood somewhere beyond the horde of Advisers.
"Welcome to the real world, April," Adviser Pernice pushed herself up from her stool and strode towards April. Her smile, once dubbed as the most innocent, turned menacing. "What did you come to say before that? I'm sorry we had to knock you out. The plan simply couldn't wait."
Blinding anger seared in April's gut. She stared the Adviser down. "What are you planning to do?" she seethed.
Pernice chuckled. "It's simple really," she said.
"Don't dare tell that brat anything, Sevine," Adviser Corlan growled from somewhere among the sea of faces April remembered but couldn't connect to proper names. "The Potentate doesn't want her getting in the way."
"Don't worry, Viren," Pernice said without looking away. Her grin reflected confidence and utter belief in what she was saying. "It isn't like she's going anywhere. By the time she gets out of here, the Potentate would already be done with her business."
April squirmed, succeeding in only disturbing the chains behind her. "You filthy traitors," she said. "Why would you want to bring Falkirta down? We're perfectly fine floating."
A full-on laugh poured from Pernice as she bent down to catch the breath strangled by her amusement. "Bring the territory down? That's hilarious," Pernice wiped the side of her eyes with the back of her hand. "My dear, we're not looking to destroy Falkirta. We're aiming to build a new one."
"A new one?" April knitted her eyebrows. "Why?"
A dreamy look shifted Pernice's features. "Why, you ask?" she crossed her arms. "Because this place is crawling with vermin. We want a new start, somewhere where insolent brats like you wouldn't reach us. It will be away from Imperial control. It will be a territory for air sprites and for air sprites only."
April narrowed her eyes. "You mean only people you approve of," she said. They're planning something nefarious by playing with the magic responsible for holding up this huge landmass. What if they messed it up? Who would pay for their idiocy? All the more reason to get out of here.
"You could say that, yeah," Pernice rolled her shoulders. "Besides, she wouldn't want to share it with lowly beings like all of you."
" 'She'?" April echoed. Her fingers search her belt from behind her. As expected, they confiscated her sword. Feathers brushed skin. An idea popped into her head. They might have taken the only sharp thing that could slice through this cloth bond around her but they didn't know of April's other hidden weapon.
"Sevine," Corlas's voice warned behind them once again.
Pernice rolled her eyes but ignored her colleague. April did her best for her face to remain neutral even though her fingers felt around her wings for any sign of her metallic projectiles.
"A benefactor of sorts," Pernice answered. April's mind flew back to what the smith in the city said. It's amusing, having used the same word. Could they be the same person all along? "She supplied us with the funds for all those imports just so we could carry on with the plan."
April didn't need to be a scholar to guess how that plan was going to go. First, they'd use the jasclume ores to cut off the spell's access to the island. Then, using the dwarven metal, they would try to enclose it into a new case. Since Umazure's magic didn't work on them, it wouldn't ever be able to break out. After that, they'd either give the spell to this benefactor to duplicate or study or whatever.
Where would that leave Falkirta and the people oblivious of their impending doom?
April gritted her teeth. She needed to keep Pernice talking. "This benefactor of yours," she prodded. Her fingers knocked against something cold. Metal. The feather. She gripped it with her right hand. With a yank, she tore it from her skin. A sharp pain enveloped her wing. "What would she do if this experiment failed?"she said through gritted teeth. It took everything in her to not let herself wince despite the pain.
What's more important was that April now held a sharp feather.
Pernice licked her front teeth. Her mousse brown hair was loose today too. Did the Adviser do that whenever she felt like being evil? "Punish us, most likely," she said. "The Heiress doesn't like failure. She'd seek retribution, in the whole of Falkirta, if need be. Her anger isn't something to be trifled with."
The Adviser's face hardened. "That's why we can't fail," she said. April's fingers worked double time in slicing through the cloth. Slowly, with every grating fiber being snapped into two, her magic returned to her veins. Pernice got into April's face. "That's why we can't let you get in the way."
April suppressed her own growl. These morons just went and entered a deal with someone they didn't know. Who was this Heiress anyway? Why did she have a lot of versallis, enough to sway an entire council of a prideful territory?
The fabric around her tore more and more. Just a little now. Keep Pernice talking. April cleared her throat to hide the longest tear she managed with her feather. "So what are you doing out here?" she asked. "Why aren't you all with Elami in whatever room she's doing her magical hula?"
Pernice scoffed. "She needed her focus," she said. "It's a complicated spell, for sure. Not that you would know that."
April's mind flashed to the hidden gibberish somewhere in her breastplate. Did they search her for that? Did they find it? It appeared not, considering Pernice still thought April didn't know about the spell.
The feather cut enough for April to grip the two torn sides. "You're right," April said. "I wouldn't know about it."
Then, before Pernice could throw another smug remark, April ripped the fabric apart. Instantly, a scalding warmth sped back to her veins. Pernice's blood drained from her face as she stumbled back from April.
April rose, spreading her white wings. Her hair whipped in long, loose locks as her magic stirred the air around them. For a room filled with air sprites, she lost count of how many quivering lips and pale faces she observed from the Advisers.
She allowed herself one smirk. "The thing with you witches," she said. "Is that you underestimate me. Always."
A gust of wind propelled her up, towards the ceiling. She summoned the strongest wind she could. The column punched the stone, shaking the entire room. Screams of terror erupted from the ground. Some Advisers scrambled around, arms ducked against their arms. Others attempted to lunge at her but she whirled and let some of her metal feathers fly.
More gasps rang from the crowd as sharp metal embedded themselves on the floor inches from their feet. Pernice was among the people who scampered towards the door. April snarled. Not so fast, you twat.
With another gust of wind, April punched a hole through the ceiling. From beyond the crevice, she spied another floor. Okay, this looked like a proper building. And if it was...
A wicked grin tore off April. She might as well bury the rest of them here. She zipped towards the hole and pressed her hands on the rocks holding up the rest of the ceiling and the floor of the next level. Then, she filled the stone with air. A large booming sound ripped in the air. Shrieks and frantic footsteps scuttled below her. April laughed as she sent another blast. The gaps between the bricks popped. With a groan, the rocks broke apart and rained over the rest of the Falkirtan Council.
Wood crunched. April winced. There went the door, their only salvation. The rocks slammed against the floor, stirring a cloud of debris. Nobody moved for a whole minute. She hummed. They're as good as dead now. Or knocked out. She preferred the former, though.
But she had other pressing issues to deal with. For example, figuring out where Elami was doing her dangerous experiment. She turned to the part of the upper floor with the stones still intact. It might be that way.
April flapped her wings and launched herself forward. The wind drove her hair away from her forehead. She was about to turn into a corner when a black shadow zipped towards her. She spread her wings to slow her flight. More flaps and she drew back.
Ilvi Aledryl sped into view, a sword in hard. The scowl plastered on his face told April that this time, he wouldn't let her win.
April, weaponless and with only her wits about her, grinned at him, egging him on. Come, then. Bring it on.
They charged at each other.
April ducked, Ilvi's sword hitting the wall where her head had just been. Her heart leaped to her throat as she whirled and sent a blast of wind in his direction. The soldier extended his hand and redirected its course against another wall. She cursed. They couldn't go on like this. She needed to stop Elami.
The corridor shook, debris breaking out from the ceiling and raining above their heads. Already, a heavy weight pressed on April's shoulders. Whatever Elami's doing, it's taking effect now.
With sluggish movements, she whipped here and there, dodging Ilvi's fatal blows, protecting her chest and other important spots in her form. She didn't have time for this.
"Ilvi, wait!" April crossed her arms and summoned a wall of air in front of her, deflecting the soldier's blade. "We need to talk!"
"Whatever it is, I'm not interested," Ilvi deadpanned. His face was blank. "I have my orders."
He speared towards her once more. April danced out of his way, pressing herself against the wall. This diversion tactic was becoming old. She needed to finish this. If not to get him to her side, then just to disable him enough for her to find Elami before the Potentate damages Falkirta's magic further.
"You're not interested that your territory might just plummet to the ground, slamming into Dwanzeig and Desara, splashing straight into the ocean to drift towards the barriers?" she said. Of course, that's a theoretical scenario. The real thing might be scarier.
To his credit, Ilvi skidded to a stop, his attack dwindling into a mere glide. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You could be lying."
April shrugged. "But you stopped, nonetheless," she said. "I need to know where Elami is."
His forehead creased. "You mean the Potentate?" he frowned. "Why do you want to know? I was told to guard her and the room."
What was he doing out here then? "Why do you think I'm here?" she said. "I'm brought here after they knocked me out in the Palace. We're not in the Palace anymore, are we?"
Ilvi shook his head. "Not like I know where we are either," he said. "I was just summoned from Vafron, again, and I was brought here when they came. It looked like an abandoned Temple from the outside, though."
Temple. Air sprites only built places of worship on mountains. So, Aphesa. Couldn't be Vafron since Ilvi mentioned he was summoned there. Aphesa, it was.
"Tell me where Elami is," April demanded again. "I need to stop her."
Ilvi blocked her way as she hovered forward. "Stop her from doing what?"
The corridor shook again. More debris rained on them. April gritted her teeth and pointed up. "That," she said as if that explained everything. Judging from the confused look in Ilvi's face, he didn't get it. Sighing, April spread her hands wide. "Elami's off doing experiments on the magic holding Falkirta up. She messes with it, boom! We plummet down. Simple enough?"
He frowned. "But she told me it was for the benefit of the air sprites," he said. "That's the only reason I agreed."
April scoffed. "Elami couldn't care less about the air sprites," she said. "They're building another island at the expense of the old."
"How do I know you're not making this up?" Ilvi leveled his sword at her.
A hysterical laugh tore off her lips. "Me, make it up?" she crossed her arms. "What do you take me for? Don't you know who I am?"
"To be frank, I don't," Ilvi pointed his sword at her. "How can you be so sure it is what's happening?"
April pointed back to the direction she came in. "I collapsed an entire ceiling on the rest of the Advisers in a room back there," she said. "You can ask one of them and they will tell you the same thing they said to me. They aren't that bright in making up lies. I don't have time to lay out all the evidence against them so please get out of my way."
Ilvi moved towards her with his sword raised. April gasped and brought her arms up, her magic pulsing underneath her skin. Then, Ilvi's blade clanged against her arm guards. "Take that," he said, looking everywhere but at her. "The Potentate is in the room after that corner," he pointed somewhere to his east.
April blinked, her fingers slowly wrapping around the hilt of the sword he lent her. "O-okay," she blurted. "What are you going to do?"
Ilvi inclined his head to one side. "There are guards stationed around the perimeter," he said. "I'll get them off your trail. I'll meet you in the chamber. Avraja."
Forcing her tongue to unstuck from the roof of her mouth, she nodded. "Avraja."
Then, they parted ways, using their magic to propel them away from each other. April whizzed through the corner Ilvi had pointed and, true enough, a single set of doors stood between her and Elami. April poised her arm forward to protect her face and shoulders. She slammed straight into the door. The hinges whined in her ears, the splinters crackled under her weight.
Then, standing with her back turned to April, was Elami Caizu, the Air Potentate, head of the Falkirtan council. Her light brown hair swayed with the artificial breezes generated by the ongoing spell shining bright somewhere beyond her.
A few steps away was a sphere of pure light, chained down to a raised pedestal. Already, there was a dwarven metal knife stuck into it, a cage made of jasclume ores waiting for Elami to transfer it inside.
April gritted her teeth. Then, she burst forward. Her form slammed against Elami's. The sparks of the unfinished spell showered over them in streaks of scalding heat. Then, a deep rumbling echoed from the depths of the island. Before they knew it, an oppressing weight flattened them to the ground.
Just like that, Falkirta began falling.