Years later...
The boy had finally left the slum where he lived and reached the avenue leading out of the city. After a few hundred meters, he passed through the gate under the towering walls that kept everyone safe. Walking along the cove for over a kilometer, the boy began to see the crowd gathering at the port. Forcing his way through the people, he moved towards the edge to get a better view of the arrival of the ships. Would he be able to make it?
The boy was anxious. It had been announced some time ago that the 52nd Expedition fleet would arrive that day. Ten ships had set sail about a year ago, under the orders of the Great Leader, to gather supplies from other continents. It was a special journey that had now concluded and, as usual, it was a cause for a grand celebration throughout the country of Cenferum, bringing together people from various locations in Aldair to welcome the caravan.
The arrival of the expedition was one of the few occasions when so many people dared to approach the "edge" in such a manner. On this day, the entire populace was gathered at the Port, all in a festive mood.
Squeezing through the crowd, he pressed on, occasionally shoving and receiving insults along the way. During his journey, he spotted many familiar faces, mostly schoolmates who, like him, dreamed of one day sailing across the ether sea and exploring the entire world. Alongside them were teachers and neighbors from the Juramento region, ironically named for a place where no one kept their promises.
He finally managed to get close enough, standing among the people in an uncomfortable position just to contemplate the vastness of the sea—an actual ocean of clouds that began where the continent's land ended, the edge. There, a mass of fog heavier than air, known as ether, gathered in the space between all the continents of the world. A virtually bottomless place that accommodated the corrosive mist and the dreaded monsters—creatures that occasionally managed to climb onto the continent's edge during the surges.
Suddenly, far from the edge, the boy could see a small dot approaching the port at high speed – a ship surfing through the ether. The arrival of an expedition was always like this: the flagship arrived first, and then, a bit further behind, the other ships emerged from the mist. Nimbus always got excited seeing them all together. This one, for example, was the fastest in Cenferum, named Brand, affectionately referred to by people as the "run-over toad" due to its resemblance to the amphibian when it gets run over by a cart.
The ship was essentially an ellipsoidal box, made of steel and aerodynamically designed wider at the bow and narrower at the stern, creating a drop-like shape over two hundred meters long. Rows of windows along the hull and the "toad's legs" housed powerful hydrogen-powered turbines, propelling it through the ether at high speeds.
As the ship loomed dangerously over the continent, it abruptly slowed down. Two balloons, each twice its size, filled with hot air, making it float as it navigated slowly under the gentle thrust of the turbines towards the port. This was the docking process, a low-speed maneuver to prevent sinking and corrosion by the ether.
But this time, something seemed wrong. Ten ships had departed from this same port months ago, and only one was returning. The closer the flagship approached the edge, the more restless the crowd at the port became. People were commenting and creating theories about what had happened. It was a unique event; never before had a ship been so far from the others when arriving at the port. They usually stayed within a few meters of each other, in formations with strange names that everyone talked about. Most importantly, ships never traveled alone. There was no captain irresponsible enough to lead a voyage under these conditions; it would be practically suicide. Unless something terrible had happened, forcing them to complete the mission alone, and even then, the chances of success were nil. At least that's what people were saying.
After a few minutes of confusion and murmuring, the ship docked. Its doors opened, and some men threw ropes to the port workers, who anchored and pulled it to the dock. Silence prevailed among the population until the doors opened, and passengers began to exit, walk down the wooden ramp, and finally step onto the carved stone dock. Initially, some loaders took care of removing bundles and wooden crates from inside the ship. However, after a few minutes, the first distinguished members began to emerge and were received by the high-ranking government entourage from Aldair Castle. Since there was a line of soldiers limiting the distance from the crowd to the dock, everyone was too far away to identify who was who among those important figures of Cenferum. Moreover, it was impossible to hear what they were saying. It was only possible to assess their body language, and all of them were quite agitated—some downcast, some seemed to be crying, others supported in fainting, but it was still impossible to deduce what had happened for only one ship to dock that day. What could cause such commotion and delay the other ships?
After a few more minutes of heated debate, the entourage began to move. When the carriages were loaded and finally left the dock in an orderly procession, people immediately rushed to the avenue where they would pass. It was chaos, everyone crowding along the isolation line created by the soldiers of the Grand Leader, separating the street from the sidewalk as best they could. The boy, still intrigued by only one ship arriving from the journey, also ran there. And although everything was very strange, it was still a special occasion. This was the moment when the population got closest to the bravest men and women in the world—people who risked their lives to defy the expanse of ether and bring the supplies that the continent couldn't produce. Everyone wanted the opportunity to get close to them, perhaps to internalize some of that courage through osmosis. Maybe it would help them endure their daily struggles in that cruel and hopeless world.
Suddenly, he bumped into a girl in the middle of the crowd, short like him. Her face was not the most beautiful, but her gaze was seductive, and her lips were full. The girl saw him and flashed a fake smile:
— Hi, Nimbus! Congratulations on being selected to study here at the Doctor's school.
— Ann... Anabele, I'm not staying in Aldair anymore. I declined the spot. Goodbye!
Almost instantly, the boy turned his back and began to walk in the opposite direction. The girl stood there, looking at him with an expression of not having understood anything. Nimbus didn't want to see her anymore, not after everything that had happened. That's why he had decided not to stay in that city. He wanted to leave, even if it meant refusing an opportunity that came to fewer than ten percent of the students in his school. He was going to leave that city within a few months. Enough of suffering. He would get rid of it.
After a few minutes of elbowing and squeezing through the crowd, the boy finally reached a position where he could observe the heroes a bit more closely. By this point, most of the entourage had already passed, and he couldn't see the fleet captain or his knights and squires who always took the lead. Lamenting this fact, he watched what little remained of the entourage—mostly nearly empty carts and porters carrying almost nothing on their backs. Many wounded were visible, some on stretchers, others supported by crutches, some with their arms in slings. Seeing this, he decided to ask someone who had been there longer about what had happened.
— Sir, do you know what happened? Why did only one ship from the expedition arrive? — He addressed a middle-aged man with some gray hair.
— They say it was pirates or ether monsters — the old man replied without looking at the boy.
— Or pirates controlling ether monsters — added another boy, who was standing next to Nimbus. — I'm Aska, the butcher's son. Don't you remember me? — he continued. — They're saying that a lot of things didn't come or arrived in small quantities, especially rare medicines. They even talked about rationing, and with only a few months of stock, they won't last until the next expedition.
Aska had the typical appearance of the region, with brown hair and eyes, almost the same height as Nimbus but a few years younger and more innocent, a typical eleven-year-old boy.
— I remember you — Nimbus said, looking into Aska's eyes, something that Mrs. Zeliudes scolded him for, claiming it was crucial to convey confidence in a first encounter.
— You're Nimbus, right? The boy who said he wanted to be a knight. — Aska flashed a wide smile. Nimbus braced himself, expecting another teasing remark about his seemingly impossible dream.
— What are you doing? Don't go away! — Aska followed him, then spoke again. — I wanted to thank you for that time you saved me from getting a beating from those boys.
Immediately, Nimbus flashed a smile, now recalling the incident. About two years ago, Nimbus had just finished a storytelling session with an old sailor who frequented the tavern at the entrance of the Oath. After those inspiring stories, Nimbus developed an admiration for these brave knights and tried to mirror their attitudes and beliefs in justice. And on that day, he was particularly excited. The tales were about heroic deeds of knights saving the weak and oppressed. That's when he saw two boys around his age but much larger than him, threatening another boy a little younger—Aska. There, right in front of him, was someone weak and oppressed, waiting to be saved by a great knight, or so Nimbus thought.
— Hey! Your father wouldn't sell to me on credit. My father was going to pay him later; he just didn't have the money. Now I'm going to get beaten because of you — said one of the boys, pressing Aska against the wall.
— Go ahead, Roger, hit this kid. He's acting all high and mighty just because he's the butcher's son — chimed in another boy, a bit shorter and chubby.
— Yeah... If I'm going to get beaten, you're going to too. — He pushed Aska harder against the wall, making him cry. — You'll be a message to your father not to be stingy.
— I didn't do anything, don't hit me, I want my dad — Aska cried, even louder.
— Look at that, calling daddy. You'll be a message to your father to treat us better — said another, pointing his finger in the boy's face.
— Hit him, Roger. Let's leave a mark on his face, so every time his father sees him, he'll remember not to mess with our family — said the larger boy. Aska cried even louder this time. People passing by on the street seemed not to care much about the four children's argument.
Nimbus, witnessing the entire altercation with no one seeming to care, decided to act like a knight—defending the weak and oppressed. He had never been so mistaken in his life.
— Leave the kid alone — Nimbus spoke with conviction. He didn't even know how he overcame his shyness to do this, but he was doing it.
— Mind your own business, kid — Truli said, while Roger continued staring at Aska.
— I said leave him alone — Nimbus repeated, using the most melodious voice he could muster, just like the knights in the stories. He dropped his books as they dropped their flowing capes before their duels.
— What are you going to do? Run and tell your mommy that your little friend is getting a beating? — Truli spoke again, this time clenching his fists at Nimbus.
— Don't talk about my mom — Nimbus ran and jumped on the boy. The collision brought him to the ground, and in seconds, Nimbus was on top of him, punching. The other boys just stood there, watching in disbelief at the unexpected and, to be honest, nothing like the charming knightly charge from the stories.
Suddenly, he felt his neck being grabbed and pulled, lifting him off the enemy. Truli managed to get up, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth as he spoke, while his brother Roger held Nimbus, swinging his feet without touching the ground.
— You're going to regret this, kid — Truli ran towards Nimbus and punched him in the stomach, again and again and again. Roger pushed him, and he fell. As he curled up on the ground from the stomach pain, he started feeling several blows all over his body—the three boys kicking him while he was down. They beat him for a few minutes until they suddenly stopped and ran away.
— Stop, you're going to kill my boy! — shouted a lady on the street. It was Mrs. Zeliudes, who, as always, was concerned because Nimbus was taking too long to get home from school and was looking for him.
When the elderly and unsteady Mrs. Zeliudes approached, leaning on her cane, the boy was covered in bruises, a swollen eye, the inside of his mouth raw and bleeding profusely.
— Oh my god, why were they beating you, my son? Poor thing, you're all beaten up — Mrs. Zeliudes knelt beside him and hugged him, then began to feel his entire body.
— They were going to beat an innocent boy, Mom — Nimbus spoke with great difficulty, fortunately not having lost any teeth.
— But why did you defend him, my son! They could have killed you if I hadn't arrived. What have I told you many times? You shouldn't get involved with that kind of people. — His foster mother had a tone of pity in her voice.
— I did it because that's what knights do, and one day I'll be a knight — the boy, somewhat fancifully, spoke with difficulty and blood dripping from his mouth. Aska watched him with wide eyes beside him.
After that incident and many stories told by the old sailor, Nimbus began telling everyone about his intention to become Sir Nimbus, the monster hunter. This lasted until the day his dreams were cruelly shattered by an old drunkard in the alleys of the Oath.
— Kid, you're really stupid. To become a knight, you have to be part of the government or the political party of the Great Leader. They would never pick a slum dweller like you to be a squire, get real. Besides, as soon as the kids of the government big shots learn to walk, they also learn to handle a sword and are trained to be squires. And you've already passed that age long ago. — The old man walked away, laughing loudly and staggering, unaware that he had left Nimbus with tears in his eyes behind him.
This truth hurt his heart; he was very frustrated but knew there was some truth in the drunkard's words. Deep down in his soul, he knew it was all just a fantasy. Becoming a knight was something very distant from his reality, and since then, he never touched on the subject again. However, up until that moment, he was still remembered for those delusions, making him the target of much teasing at school. Yet, not as much as the Anabele incident, which turned him into a source of laughter whenever they were seen together.
Now Nimbus was almost a grown man and harbored the desire to travel. He was sure of what to do; he would apply to be a crew member on a ship and travel through the ether. Certainly, he couldn't be a knight, but at least he could meet those heroes in person. He knew it was a dangerous profession, that he would suffer a lot, acquire many scars, perhaps even lose parts of his body. However, like the old storyteller sailor, he wanted to have that experience, to travel to every corner of the world, and, above all, to have that same sparkle in his eyes that the old man had when telling his own stories to anyone willing to listen, when enjoying his old age in life's taverns.
Aska remembering a story that had happened years ago made Nimbus break into a big smile and remember how good it was to dream.
— Don't worry; I know that if you were in my place, you would do the same thing — Aska said, blushing.
— Not really, it takes a lot of courage to face bullies who are beating up a stranger.
Nimbus turned even redder.
— And you also have to be very foolish to do that. — Aska laughed a lot, and Nimbus was disappointed.
The boy's intention was finally revealed, and he had once again become the target of ridicule, just like at school. However, what angered him the most was that Aska was younger, indicating that he would be remembered for a long time as the foolish slum dweller who wanted to be a knight. How long would the children at his school remember this? Years? How many future children would hear his story and laugh at him? That's why he had made that decision; he would leave Aldair as soon as possible, go as far away as possible, escape from all these problems, and surf in the ether.
Nimbus turned and walked away silently; however, he didn't hear Aska finish his speech and had missed something crucial.
— The truth is, one has to be very foolish to become a knight — Aska spoke softly, as if to himself, admiring the only hero he had met in that forgotten slum, then he returned to appreciating the procession that was concluding its gloomy parade.
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Ship Brand