Amelia stood on deck, her hands spread wide as she spun around. The westerly wind threw her golden hair about, making it flap and flutter in the open air. Giggling, Amelia began to spin faster and faster, trying to keep her eyes locked onto her favourite thing in the world.

“Careful,” her favourite thing in the world said. “You’ll drill a hole through my deck if you keep that up.”

“Pfft.” Amelia blew some golden hair from her mouth, slowing down to a stop. “It’s just nice to be outside and not have to worry about the weather!” Amelia grinned at Serena while she did her best to fix her messy hair.

Three days had passed since they left the Andalus Fortress. The majority of that time was spent with all hands on deck. While the tricone had moved out of their path it had left no small number of fledgling tornadoes and troublesome winds in its wake. Amelia had faithfully continued to act as an observer, making use of her enhanced eyes and access to the Shimmer to help guide the Vengeance westward towards Ishaq.

She’d done so without her disguise of Lia Liona. After further discussion with Anathor, Serena had decided to give the ship a few days to make sure it had calmed down after its dramatic reaction to her magic. Serena had also taken that time to emphasise to the crew that Menes and his men were not to know of her existence. Serena planned to let them out of their cages at some point, but first wanted to ensure Amelia could return to her disguise first.

They were now sailing mid-sky at an elevation of eight klicks. It was higher than they would have preferred, but Sensors had identified a band of relatively calm weather and Serena had given the order to follow it. With good weather assured for the next day or two the crew was taking a much-needed break, especially as the Vengeance had just taken a dip in the lumina.

“It calms the ship,” Serena had explained to Amelia before bringing the Vengeance into the supernatural foundation of the Known World. “I’m not willing to wait till Ishaq to begin experimenting with how sensitive this ship is to your magic. We’ll conduct tests the moment we have a period of calm weather.”

And now, post-lumina-swimming, that period of calm weather was upon them. Amelia and Serena stood on the Vengeance’s deck. Anathor was standing by, his attention split between them and the fourth deck. While he couldn’t see the ship’s true form, he could sense any changes in its behaviour quickly and notify them.

Serena tapped the deck with her foot. “Anathor! Are you ready?”

“Hmm…” came the ethereal reply. Anathor always sounded distant when he wasn’t speaking through a medium, as if something was muffling his words. “Ready when you are, Captain.”

“Let’s start with some first-circle glamours. Hair and eye colour. Take it slow,” Serena warned. “Give the ship time to adjust and Anathor time to react. Do what you can to keep the aetherflow minimal. Let’s not grow too confident, too fast.”

“Mmm!” Amelia nodded, beginning the slow construction of the formation inside her. Kanaxai magic was notorious for its delicate and complicated configuration. There were far more variables to control and, if it weren’t for Amelia’s natural talent in manipulating aether, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to manage it.

A few seconds passed as her cycling aether slowly formed into the required structure. There was a hesitancy in her aetherflow, probably due to her concern that the ship might suddenly scream again. Nevertheless, Amelia willed her aether to continue bending, folding, and twisting itself into what it needed to become. As the final motions were complete, she announced to Serena that it was ready.

Her girlfriend looked downwards. “Anathor, anything?” she enquired.

“Nothing yet, Captain,” the Formless replied.

Seeing Serena give her a nod, Amelia activated the formation. A strange cold sensation washed over her, vanishing as quickly as it began. She looked downwards to find that her golden, silky hair had now become a mousy brown. 

It was a nostalgic colour.

“Hmm,” Serena mused. “Eye colour is correct, but Lia Liona has darker hair. Did you mean to make it such a light brown? It looks weird.”

“This was the colour of my hair before I arrived here, y’know?”

“It’s a wonderful colour. I love it.”

Amelia giggled, which forced an apologetic smile from Serena. With a moment of concentration she adjusted the formation, changing her hair colour to Lia Liona’s dark brown.

“Looking good?” she asked.

“Looking good,” Serena affirmed. “Anathor?”

“Still good here, Captain.”

“Right.” Serena nodded. “Shall we try a larger glamour? Something external? Maybe—”

“Horns!” Amelia blurted out.

“...Sure.” Serena rolled her eyes. “Be careful.”

Amelia began arranging the second-circle spell. Kanaxai spellwork—especially at the lower circles—didn’t require much aether. It was only when the First-Word got involved that the aether demand skyrocketed. That said, second-circle glamours still demanded five or six times the amount her hair and eye-changing glamours did.

“A small disturbance…” Anathor spoke out suddenly. “No, continue Miss Thornheart,” he added as Amelia stopped constructing her formation. “As long as we proceed carefully, we will have enough warning. Still… to think you two have such a strong connection, even when she’s in this form… The power of a shard really is limitless…”

While Anathor mumbled, a reassuring nod from Serena settled Amelia’s nerves and she finished the formation. With a glance to double-check it was okay, she activated the second-circle glamour, once again feeling a strange cold sensation wash over her. Only this time, there was a new feeling of unnatural weight on her forehead. It wasn’t a physical weight, but a magical one. It was perhaps a tiny fraction of how she felt when she adorned horns of lightning under Taranis.

“Any problems, Anathor?” Amelia asked.

“There are subtle disturbances, but I wouldn’t call her agitated, Miss Thornheart.”

“Very well,” Serena said. “Looks like you’ll be able to return to being Miss Liona. Just don’t let anything slip if you end up talking to Menes or his men. End the Kanaxai spellwork. I want to see how far we can get with wards.”

As it turned out, not very far.

It was to be expected; the strength of wardspells was directly proportional to the amount of aether put into them. An uncloaked Amelia-level ward that wasn’t even projected from her body as a fieldspell was already using up far more aether than the second-circle glamours. It didn’t take long at all before Amelia felt a twisting sensation form in her stomach—a sudden bout of anxiety that wasn’t entirely her own.

It came from the ship. Thankfully, it was a less serious reaction to when she’d formed the Kanaxai First-Word. Amelia was able to react even before Anathor shouted out his warning, quickly spooling down the newly constructed ward before the ship faced too much distress.

“Phew,” Amelia said. “Close one.” She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on her aether. “It’s strange how my existing wards, and even the wards I have active on Serena haven’t caused any problems.”

“Hmm…” Anathor hummed. “It’s almost certainly the fact that they are both heavily cloaked. Even your aetherflow to the captain’s wards goes through the Shimmer. If it didn’t, I expect it would cause chaos. Perhaps… try and flare an existing ward. Gently, now.”

“Sure!” Amelia picked her lowest-level ward, Igni’s Barrier

. It was a first-circle ward from the branch of demonic hellfire that provided excellent heat resistance and some physical defense. She expected it would come in handy in the South, especially if they had to cross the desert at any point.

With the ward identified, Amelia ever so slightly flared it, feeling her aether rush to enhance its strength. With no response from the ship, she flared a little more, and then a little more…

“Too much!” Anathor cried suddenly.

“Got it!” Amelia called out, tightening the expanded aetherflow. “Once the aether exceeds the ability of the cloak to hide it, there’s a reaction! The problem is that I need to cast the spell first before I cloak it!”

“Mmm,” Serena hummed. “Could you cast an extremely weak ward, and then cloak it, then slowly increase the ward's strength while you refine the cloak?”

“Umm?” Amelia tilted her head. “Maybe.”

That hope was quickly short-lived.

The issue was that the initial invocation of the cloak spell required enough aether to classify itself as a third-circle spell. CloakofSecrecy was the second spell Amelia had cast in this world. Its first invocation was all those months ago, when she’d first arrived in Serena’s quarters. Despite her growth as a mage and aether user, she couldn’t get around its third-circle aether requirements. Before Amelia had finished constructing the formation she had to stop as the knot of anxiety in her returned, quickly followed by Anathor’s panicked cries.

“Even if we can’t make use of your tremendous aether reserves,” Serena began thoughtfully, “we’re lucky the existing wards hold and you can disguise yourself. I was worried I was going to have to smuggle you into Ishaq in a crate! Ha!” She laughed, prompting Amelia to stick her tongue out.

“But,” Amelia began once her tongue had returned to its rightful place, “are you sure you don’t want to try it with me leaving the ship? I could jump, fall a kilometre or two and then use large-scale magic?” Even as she spoke, she saw Serena shake her head.

“Not risking it,” Serena said definitely. “You haven’t yet experienced what it’s like to be exposed to raw lumina interference. A sudden change in the weather or a minor mistake by you, and you might find yourself thinking you’re pushing against the aetherfield to float, but you’re actually propelling yourself to your doom. When the Vengeance went swimming earlier, we were protected by the ship. Remember the reports Sensors gave on the condition of the aetherscope? Total and complete noise. If it can do that to a well-built, reliable machine designed to operate in tough conditions, imagine what it’ll do to a human mind.” As if to emphasise her point, Serena reached out and tapped Amelia’s head. Those taps quickly become an affectionate ruffle.

“Hrmph, well…” Serena mumbled, quickly pulling her hand back and glancing towards the bridge. “Let’s keep you safe, understand? We know it’ll be fine once we dock in Ishaq and we travel into the city. After all, you cast numerous large-scale magics in Asamaywa, and the ship behaved in dock, didn’t it?”

“Right, right,” Amelia nodded her agreement, buzzing slightly from her girlfriend's protectiveness. Something about her expression must have given the game away, as Serena asked her what was wrong. “Nothing!” Amelia replied. “I’m just thinking of all the presents I’m going to give you! And everyone else!”

“Well, aren’t I lucky?” Serena said before sighing. “Shame we’re not taking the route through Centralis. Christmas is a massive event there. They even have to close the skies due to the number of fireworks people let off. Unfortunately”—Serena gestured to the expanse beyond the ship’s railing—”we won’t have the luxury to enjoy the festivities to that extent. That said, I can’t wait to see what ridiculous things you’ve bought me,” she finished with a playful wink.

“They’re good presents, I promise!” Amelia bounced on her feet. “Not ridiculous at all!”

Well, there was Serena’s final—extremely ridiculous—present. But that wasn’t something she could possibly give to Serena on the ship. In fact, it wasn’t something she could give Serena anywhere but in a private environment. Perhaps she could make it a late present in Ishaq? It depended on what opportunities they would have to be alone for long enough for Serena to… enjoy it.

Regardless of the less than ideal location, the excitement of the upcoming religious holiday grew day by day. Amelia found it a little strange to have such a fundamental religious connection to her old world. Christianity had been brought over to the Known World by the initial human caravans that migrated across the realms more than two thousand years ago, and they would have come from the very same world Amelia originated from.

What was unusual was that she remembered nothing regarding realm migrations in the history of her world. At the time of Amelia’s birth, her world was approaching the final centuries of the fourth millennium. Despite the numerous World Wars and periods of rebuilding humanity had needed to go through, they still maintained a relatively intact record of their history.

Yet, Amelia had never heard even a whisper of realms or aether or anything like that.

Well, with the exception of the game she played, of course.

Her thoughts were cut short by Anathor announcing, “Sensors picked up a lift engine, Captain. Small vessel, portside.”

Just as Amelia remembered which way portside was on a ship and had turned her head to look south, Serena strode past and peered into mid-sky. With the additional information that the vessel was flying a full klick lower than them, they both quickly identified the vessel’s location.

“Well,” Amelia said. “If they’re pirates they’re going to need a bigger ship, don’t you think?” She glanced at Serena, reassured to find that her calm, collected, and sometimes embarrassed girlfriend didn’t look all that concerned. Amelia looked back at the vessel. Barely big enough for a dozen men, it couldn’t be more than ten-metres long. It was absent any visible weaponry and its small silvery aetherscope seemed like it wouldn’t be able to do much more than send and receive messages.

Its rustic but functional appearance reminded her of the Houk-class vessels the citizens of the Asamaywa lowlands had taken to the air to catch as many falling moonstones as they could. The only difference was that instead of the Houks with their haphazardly welded buckets, this ship wore nets and numerous fishing lines.

“A fishing ship,” Serena said, frowning slightly. “It’s flying the colours of Kraken Kur, but it doesn’t make sense it’d come out this far.” Serena tapped the deck with her feet. “Anathor!”

“Hmm… Yes, Captain?”

“Tell Dagon to go get our resident Ishaqian Lord and bring him on deck.”

“Hmm… in chains, Captain?”

The edge of Serena’s mouth curled before she said, “No. Now Amelia can create her disguise again, it’s about time we give him some freedom. Wouldn’t want any Southern greatlords complaining about how a Samino Lord treats our Southern neighbours, would we?”

“Aye aye, Captain…” Anathor grumbled.

While they waited for Dagon to appear with the Vengeance’s prisoner lord, Amelia carefully reconstructed her disguise. Feeling satisfied with the subtle weight of aether from her stubby horns, she waited patiently until Dagon brought the large Arakian demon onto deck.

“Don’t let him know you know he’s a lord,” Serena whispered.

Amelia nodded. She barely had time to take in his large, muscular body with dark skin and a bald head, before the demon spread his arms wide and yelled, “Freedom! Fresh air! I a… rebirthed!” He then yelled something into the sky that sounded like a prayer, but it was spoken in a strange language Amelia had never heard before.

“Stop being dramatic,” Serena intoned, clicking her tongue. “You’ve been allowed to walk the cargo bay, haven’t you?”

“Not like this! Ah! To feel the wind in my horns again!” the large man shouted, reaching to the sky. Then, as his arms came down, he finally spotted Amelia. The Arakian frowned. “Who’s that?” he asked.

“Hello!” Amelia waved, rising onto the balls of her feet. “I’m Lia! Nice to meet you!”

“Ooo…” the Arakian cooed, approaching and peering down at her. “You’re not a sailor are you? Hmm… are you perhaps”—he sniffed the air—“a mage? But no… there’s a sense of the warrior about you, isn’t there?” The demon turned to Serena and said, “What is it with this ship and female warriors? Doesn’t the East care about making children at all?”

“One more comment about my recruitment practices, Menes, and you’re back in that cell for another week,” Serena said coolly. “Don’t concern yourself with Lia or her role on this ship. It’s no concern of yours. What is a concern is this fishing vessel shadowing us.” Serena pointed down towards the small vessel in the distance. “What do you make of it? A small vessel like that, flying the colours of Kraken Kur, more than two hundred klicks into the passage? You know these skies, Menes. You know the inhabitants. Tell me what you think.”

“Let me see, let me see, my saddiyah,” Menese intoned. He turned his attention away from Amelia and peered out over the railing. “Where is…? Ah! Hmm…” The demon rubbed his chin. “It is difficult for me. You will not throw me off if I use aura to look… to look… to…” He trailed off, as if trying to find the right words. “To look more good?” he finished with a slight tilt of his head.

“To look better,” Serena clarified. “No, I don’t mind. Use your aura, Menes Bastet.”

A few moments passed and the Arakian soon glowed with hues of vibrant orange. It was a well-established orange aura, far beyond what even the talented Mel was capable of. Perhaps if he flared he would come close, or even manage to break through, to yellow.

With his enhanced eyesight, Menes seemed to focus on the fishing vessel for all of two seconds before turning and locking eyes with Serena.

“Yes,” he said, nodding casually as if he’d just been asked to identify the sky. 

“Pirates.”

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