The warehouses have been running a bit low on supply. We’re going to need to replenish those at least once so they last the coming years. Thankfully, Legosia brought me some alchemists from far south. I’m quite intrigued by the alloy they use in their weapons. Light and strong, with a dark grey sheen. perhaps I can make use of it?

-From The Last King of Elneshe’s 4th Note

Galeon ran from the enemy. More of them surrounded him, each of them engaging in pursuits of their own as they went after his Afterburner allies. Red and green mixed in equal amounts in the sky, but all of them produced a distinct maroon glow from the jets on their bodies as they went for each other’s throats.

He weaved around the other fliers, a Ravenishtani soldier on his tail. Grenades streaked through the air, filled with tar and ready to entangle anyone unlucky enough to get caught within them. One of them headed towards Ninel, so Galeon grabbed it out of the sky and threw it back at the Ravenishtani Afterburner. He zipped away before Ninel could thank him, the other Afterburner still chasing him.

“Come back here and fight fairly!” he shouted, but Galeon kept flying away. The chase continued on for long, Galeon always staying one step ahead and protecting his own people as best as he could. He’d knock aside spears, disturb formations, anything that could give him an edge without being forced into direct combat. But a single attack caught him off guard.

A spear flew up at Galeon and he raised his hands to fly backwards. Just as he did, he felt something slam into his back. Galeon grunted as he was knocked out of the sky, sent spinning downwards.

“Got you!” the Ravenishtani Afterburner said in Antir. His hair was burnt during the battle, so Galeon had taken to calling him Smokebrain. They were careening downwards, Smokebrain clenching his teeth and Galeon’s hair flailing wildly.

“I thought you said no powers!” Galoen shouted as Smokebrain held on tightly. Instead of responding to the insane statement, the man pulled out a knife. Aw, curses.

Galeon grabbed onto his shoulder and concentrated. A jet appeared on the man’s clothing and created a small plume of thrust. Smokebrain tried holding on, but the both separated just as they hit a tree. Branches cracked and leaves fell just as they landed a few feet apart from each other.

Galeon was the first one to rise, cracking his back and freeing his healing. Smokebrain got up only a moment later, taking his own dagger out of his leg. Galeon didn’t do anything until the man rose, too focused on fixing his own body.

Then the Ravenishtani pointed the dagger at him again.

“Well, we technically just finished a fight. So, we don’t really need to continue,” Galeon said.

“You’re one quippy bastard, you know that?”

“Thanks! I try hard at it,” Galeon smiled. Smokebrain sighed.

“Cutting your tongue out will be cathartic.”

“Even if I heal it back?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. I’ll still have a copy,” and then Smokebrain came at him with the dagger rushing. Galeon jumped back with freed strength, touching the palms of his hands. He didn’t land, taking off with only those two jets.

Without missing a beat, Smokebrain made his own jets and took off. The chase renewed itself, with Galeon smacking the bottom of his shoes to create jets there. He tried to get away, but Smokebrain was being persistant. He accidently knocked himself into one of his allies, and the woman gave him a glare before realizing who it was.

“Galeon?! What are you doing?” Odenn shouted at him. Galeon looked around and saw more spears being levelled at them.

“Sorry about this!” he grabbed onto her with one hand and threw her, using his thrust as a counterbalance. She flew away from the enemies and Galeon blew away a second later. Several spears and arrows filled the area they were just in. Galeon only spared a glance and hoped she would be able to right herself in the air.

He noticed Smokebrain gaining on him, so he flew away again. But maybe I don’t need to run. He searched the skies for Afterburners and found one Ravenishtani distracted by his surroundings. He had a belt of grenades across his shoulder that made Galeon smile.

He boosted his jets, streaking past the soldier and ripping the bandolier off of him. The soldier gave him only a moment’s consideration. Galeon took that bandolier and started flying higher.

Smokebrain wasn’t giving up, ever on his tail even despite the height. The battling army below them began to look like ants, as they kept climbing. The smell of fire and blood in the air lessened, but the cold. The cold grew even more.

Galeon kept climbing the skies even as his teeth began to chatter. And Smokebrain chased all the while. Does he even have the bewl to keep this up? Galeon wondered. Even he’d be in trouble if this didn’t work.

As the air thinned, Galeon began to feel light-headed. But he focused on what he was trying to accomplish. Higher and higher, until finally, he pierced the clouds. Most people thought of the clouds as fluffy, even Vilessa, but they were just wet.

Galeon slowed his flight above the clouds. He kept watch at the hole that he’d come out of, Bandolier in hand. He’s going to be vulnerable when he pops out. But from where? Galeon considered. Breathing made more difficult kept Galeon on edge. Until finally, a figure pierced through the clouds.

Galeon put a jet on the Bandolier and threw it with all his might. He poured bewl into the jet, sending it flying towards Smokebrain. The Ravenishtani looked dumbfounded, fumbling out of the way but not fast enough.

The pots on the bandoliers exploded and the man was covered in thick black tar. He fell immediately, his jets getting soaked so deeply they couldn’t maintain him.

Galoen flew after him when he began to scream. They came back from the heavens, the scenery on the ground approaching quicker than he thought. Galeon was running out of bewl, but he still chased.

Smokebrain struggled all the way through the endeavour. He cried out, moved, but the jets would only bubble. He tried to peel the tar off, but it stuck deeply. He twisted and turned so much in the air, he looked like a rabid animal.

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The ground approached, so close now they could make out the details of the battle once again. Galoen flew faster, his bewl pool stretching to maintain its hold on his jets. Just a bit more! He shouted in his mind as he reached out an arm.

“Grab onto me!” he shouted. Smokebrain’s eyes widened but he held out his hand.

Galeon then put every drop of bewl he had into his thrusters, positioning them downwards. They let out a hiss that burned the ears and he jerked in the air so hard he felt he was about to pass out. Smokebrain’s shoulder dislocated and the man let out another scream. They dropped onto the ground, a loud thud coming from their bodies.

Galeon took a moment to remind himself he hadn’t died. He felt pains and sores all over his body, yet he was still breathing. He sat up from his spot on the ground and looked around for Smokebrain. Thankfully, the soldier was on his side, clutching his shoulder near him.

He was in worse shape than Galeon, a foot broken under him and bruises going up along it. Despite that, he was alive, and that was enough for Galeon to crack a smirk in the middle of the battle.

“W-why did you do save me?” Smokebrain asked. He looked dumbfounded, yet protective even in his injured state.

Galeon stood up a moment later, patting around for his pouch of bewllan. He found it a moment later, drinking up the energy and freeing his healing upon his body. He took a moment to throw a crystal towards Smokebrain.

Instead of accepting the offer, the man smacked the crystal aside.

“Answer me, Phasgorian!”

“Why shouldn’t I have?” Galeon asked and more confusion wrinkled the Ravenishtani’s face.

“Do… do you understand how war works?” Smokebrain asked.

“Yeah,” Galeon said without any mirth.

“Then I ask again. Why let me live. When I can come back and slaughter a hundred more soldiers of your ranks.”

“Because you won’t. You don’t seem the type to go after normal soldiers.”

“And how can you prove it? Offering an enemy hallowmancer bewl doesn’t seem a smart decision.”

“I’m only giving you enough to heal,” Galeon reasoned.

“Any bewl in a hallowmancer’s hand is dangerous, you fool,” Smokebrain replied.

“Well… then I’ll just take you down again,” Galeon said with a smile.

An explosion shook the both of them. From where they stood, smoke rose into the air from the stronghold. A group of hallowmancers exited from a hole in the wall. Galeon recognized the man in the middle from his description. Duke Lambre Clasken. They got him out. Good.

But when he glanced back, Smokebrain punched him onto the ground. He grabbed the crystal laying on the ground and drank it up, dimming the glow to nothing.

“I’ll tell you this only once, because you spared my life. Do not make the same mistake. Unless you want to see your own mercy come back to kill you.”

He turned away and placed jets on his body. Galeon grunted and tried to stand up, but Smokebrain began to slide away. What is that?... It wasn’t the usual configuration of jets that Afterburners used. Smokebrain had placed two jets on his shoulders, two on his calves, and a larger one on his back.

He slid across the grass like it was the smoothest flooring possible. Galeon could’ve chased him, but what would that accomplish? He wasn’t going to kill the man, despite what he had said about it being a mistake.

“It’s only a mistake in your eyes,” he said to no one but himself. Galeon stood up and brushed himself off, looking into the skies. Afterburners still fought, and that meant he was still needed.

****

Phasgorian soldiers ran in droves. Though they hadn’t retaken Latren like they’d hoped, the rescue of Duke Lambre gave them a boost of morale. Galeon carried injured soldiers from the battlefield, dropping them off at far away tents where nurses were tending to them.

He left that tent quickly, not wanting to take even a moment longer. Around him, Afterburners moved carts and soldiers alike. Ahead of them, a line of Planars created portals to speed up the retreat. Galeon stepped away from the injured tent and the smell of pus and alcohol.

He walked among the other soldiers, those who were holding their heads low as they retreated. A smile didn’t suit the mood now, so he kept it to himself. Some would say a smile never had any place in a war, but he thought them wrong.

Galeon patted a few of the soldiers on the back, congratulating them on their effort. They thanked their hallowmancer superior, and Galeon hoped that it would raise their spirits a bit.

He made his way to the front line, where those who were left unscathed pulled along heavy carts of injured or dead soldiers back to the camp. Flies swarmed around the bodies and Galeon grimaced, looking towards the Planars for a familiar face.

And when he found it, he prepared himself. Isildan looked mechanical, dark bags under his glowing green eyes as he opened portal after portal across uneven hills for the soldiers to walk through. A soldier stood by Isildan, slowly taking a cart full of wailing soldiers along with him.

“Hey, Isil, how’s it going?” Galeon asked, trying to flash a soothing smile. When Isildan glanced at him, however, he grimaced further.

“Aren’t you supposed to be carrying other soldiers back?” Isildan asked.

“I’m done on my end. The others are going to handle what’s left on the battlefield.”

They stepped through the portal after the cart, Galeon behind Isildan.

Isildan closed the portal behind them and they walked along with the cart. The soldier near them stayed silent, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Are you holding up well?” Galeon asked.

“No, I’m not.”

The soldier slipped and the handles of the cart hit the dirt.

“Let me,” Galeon said, lifting the man up and guiding him back to the cart. The soldiers tried to deny his weakness, but eventually listened and climbed on top of the back.

Galeon took the handles and placed two jets underneath them. He moved to the back of the cart and placed two more jets there as well. Then finally, he moved back to the front and freed his pool to power the jets. The handles lifted up easily enough and Galeon began to guide it along with his hands. Isildan didn’t speak until Galeon started moving again.

“You’re going to drain your pool again if you do that.”

“It’ll come back.”

“You might need those jets for something else.”

“I’ve got two more I can make, so that’s not a problem either.”

“You’re annoying me by being here.”

Galeon smiled. “Can’t fix that, sorry.”

The side of Isildan’s face quirked up a bit, but he raised a hand to his face to rub it off. He walked forward, the cart moving quicker thanks to Galeon’s jets.

“The battle really shook you, didn’t it?” Galeon asked when Isildan wouldn’t speak.

“Yes.”

“You don’t need to be so hard on yourself. It happens to soldiers all the time. You forget how much control you really have when everything around you looks like chaos,” Galeon explained.

“And how do you do it, then? Were you just born to be a great Afterburner?” Isildan asked.

Galeon huffed as he dragged the cart.

“Responsibility. There was a baker back at my village named Garl. He taught me that my powers aren’t just a gift that I can use however I want. So I trained my powers until I could use them almost unconsciously.”

They came upon a rocky path, Isildan crafting a portal that could take them across. When the large framed shape was complete, Galeon dragged the cart through. Isildan looked at him with those same glowing green irises, piercing through his body. Galeon flashed him a smile as he went through.

“Did you have trouble with mastering them?” Isildan asked.

“Sometimes. Could barely fly until some of the other Afterburners taught me how. You could learn a lot by studying other hallowmancers, Isil.”

Isildan scratched at his eyebrow as he moved. The sun was rising in the distance, beginning to burn away the cold.

“No matter how much I train, it seems like I don’t make any progress,” Isildan replied.

“That’s not true. I’ve seen how you make portals. You make it look easy.”

Isildan sighed. “How are you so happy, Galeon? You’re dragging a bunch of half-dead men behind you and yet you’re all smiles. What’s the secret?”

Galeon chuckled. “There’s no secret to optimism. You just hold onto it till you don’t need to try anymore. Then it’s easy from there. Cracking a smile now and then helps too.”

Isildan finally let a smile crack his face, awkward and quivering as it was.

“Like this?”

“You’ll get a handle of it eventually,” Galeon chuckled, a grimace returning to Isildan’s face before joining in with his laughing. The rest of the way back home, they talked about small things. Foods they wanted to eat, how long they’d sleep. The soldiers in the cart added to the conversation, and Galeon was glad to hear their aching recede as they recalled all the things they’d do.