I dread the coming of my own involvement in this affair. I tried to pierce myself with the needle to get it done, but the anxiety overtook me.

The hallowmancers we use haven’t been the same after we’re done with them. I fear that will be the same for me. Would I be less of a king if I were not to do it?

No, but the protection of the nation comes first. We’ve made too many enemies. Perhaps I could’ve avoided this path had I not been so insistent in taking their knowledge, but look at what it has brought us! We’re a nation with power unrivalled. If the cost of a single king’s sanity keeps that peace for even a moment longer, I shall pay it.

-From The Last King of Elneshe’s 6th Note.

Galeon soared through the air on the power of his own jets. A group of Afterburners stood in his path and Galeon had to get past them. He ducked under the first of them, a large man by the name of Stele. He used that man as a kicking off point and jumped into the air, crossing around Ninel and his little ambush.

Then he blasted himself back onto the ground and rolled away from the third group. Galeon jumped into the air again and began to speed. He slipped in between two of his fellow hallowmancers, Raya and Janel, as he scored another goal in the yard. He dunked the ball with a gleeful smile in his face, crowning him the victor of that game of Flyball.

“That was too easy!” Galeon exclaimed, much to the chagrin of the other players on the field. Some of the others came down from the sky and dismissed their jets, walking over to the side to grab glasses of water.

“You’re lucky you’re so wiry, or else we would’ve won that,” Raya said, glaring at him in a manner not too dissimilar from how Noviselle did.

“If you think you can win another round against me, sure,” Galeon told her, smile still annoyingly plastered on his face. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the effort, though it didn’t dissuade him.

“Galeon!” someone shouted from beside him and he turned around. He saw a soldier in uniform standing there, which made Galeon look more ragged in comparison. Ah, but it’s just clothes, he thought as he walked over without putting on his coat again.

The man stood at the edge of the playfield looked uncomfortable as he waited.

“Countess Noviselle wants to see you,” the man said. Oh no… He knew where this was going.

“Ah… Just tell her I’m busy. Really busy,” Galeon replied, turning as quickly as he could.

“Countess Noviselle said that if you replied like that, to mention that she controls your schedule,” the soldier said, an awkward smile plastered on his face.

“…And if something genuinely came up?”

“She said she freed up the schedules of at least three other Afterburners in that case. And that she’d make sure yours became that busy if you wanted it that way,” the soldier said, as if reciting off of a script.

Galeon sighed.

“I’ll get my coat.”

****

“Three Counts, Five Barons and at least a dozen Patricians!” Noviselle shouted as she slammed down the complaints onto the desk. Galeon flinched at the sound of the papers; the letters filled with no pleasing remarks about him.

He’d expected her to be angry for sure, but did it have to be this bad? Noviselle had been lecturing him for a while at this point, walking around the table in her office so many times Galeon had been counting the laps. She was at thirty four by now.

“Are you even listening?” Noviselle asked angrily and he turned towards her. She had on a red and yellow uniform, and was boring holes through his eyes.

“Was I not supposed to?” Galeon asked, trying to lighten the mood, but the expression on Noviselle’s face remained the same. She sighed and pulled back her wooden chair as it screeched, sitting back down all the while not taking her eyes off of him.

“You’re supposed to listen. I can’t keep the other nobles from you if you go into the battlefield and do… whatever it is you do!” she told him.

“I fight them. Like everyone else there,” Galeon reasoned. He didn’t want to know where the conversation was going, which made him want to seek freedom from it. The window to the side caught his eye, the sky outside visible and welcoming. Could he slip out?

“Leon, please…” Noviselle’s sincerity caught him by surprise, and he could do nothing but oblige his friend.

“Why don’t you kill, Leon?” she asked.

“I can’t.”

“And why is that?”

“That’s how we fight. Back at the academy, we’d go only as long as the bewllan would allow. If I just leave them without their power, isn’t that just as good as getting rid of them?” Galeon asked.

Noviselle slammed a fist onto the table. “No it isn’t! You know as well as I do, they can come back again. So tell me the real reason you’re playing dumb and not doing your job.”

“I… That’s the only reason. I swear. I wasn’t taught to kill, only disarm and pacify,” Galeon told her, turning away so as not to meet her gaze. He rose up from his chair immediately after.

“Sit down, Leon,” Noviselle ordered. He would’ve stopped for a moment too, but he couldn’t.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Galeon replied as he moved towards the window. He hiked a foot onto it and got ready to take a leap.

“You can’t keep going on like this, Leon. Those hallowmancers come back, killing more of our soldiers. Do you think just because you don’t hold the knife, you’re not the one taking lives?” Noviselle asked him. Galeon paused.

He searched around outside. What a beautiful day it was. He turned to Noviselle and gave her a single final smile.

“Enjoy your day, Noviselle. I promise I’ll try not to cause you too much trouble,” and then he leapt.

He touched his hands first, placing a jet on each palm. Then he blasted himself into the air before touching the soles of his feet as well.

All feelings faded from his brain as he took in the rush of being in the air. That rush never really went away when you were an Afterburner, and many took to it like addicts, wanting to stay in the skies forever. Galeon flew up and around the camp, running into a few other Afterburners on his way. They gave him a nod of the head and nothing more, as Galeon moved onto the next sight on his lazy trip.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He flew over shops and kitchens that wouldn’t look out of place in his own village. Children played in those fields and those ponds, and people manned those shops that had sprouted up all over the camp.

It’s like… one of those cities. Galeon had rarely seen those, but all Afterburners got to see a variety of sights. He soared over them, looking at the roads placed like the roots of a tree. He came down eventually, when the bewl ran low and so did his need for contact.

Galeon dropped in the middle of a market, not a single shopkeeper batting an eye. Galeon even did a little flourish as he landed, but no one had looked to him. Weird. Everyone would have been over him when he did that back in his village.

Awkwardly, Galeon moved forward and saw a man selling little bands with tassels at the end of them. He picked up one that reminded him of the purple glow of a Devourer’s mouth, looking it over.

“That’s going to cost even you, hallowed one,” the middle-aged and grouchy looking shopkeeper said. Galeon chuckled and produced a few coins out of his pockets before throwing them at the man.

“And if you’ve got hallowmancer friends that want ‘em too, just tell ‘em to come to Aguef’s!” the shopkeeper said as he pocketed the cash. Galeon looked around and noted that the roads did look pretty thin of people in this part.

“You don’t get much traffic here?” Galeon asked. The shopkeeper, Aguef he assumed, shook his head.

“Not just that. Being at the frontlines isn’t good for business. Keeps a man tense and full of worry,” Aguef told him, taking the rest of his tasselled bands out of the display and placing a cover on them.

“Really? Why move here then?” Galeon asked.

“My daughter. She’s one of them Planars or whatever. If she’s here, I’m here,” Aguef said, placing boxes on top of each other as he reined in his stand. Galeon stood watch the entire process, playing with the band in his hand.

“But work here’s not the best. Ah, well, what can you do?” Aguef commented.

“I’m sure you and your daughter will get more time to spend with each other in the future,” Galeon said, slipping the band over his hand and hiding it under the sleeves of his jacket.

“If you say so, son.”

The man nodded in his direction and took off, taking his surprisingly compact belongings with himself. do you understand how war works? Smokebrain’s words came back into his head. Galeon moved forward to the other shopkeepers in the district, talking to each of them.

“Son was conscripted.”

“This is where everything’s happening.”

“Have you seen the rest of the country?”

“Until we’re all gone, I’m not gone.”

And each time Galeon’s answer would be the same.

“Your son will be fine.”

“We’ll be home soon.”

“You’ll be okay.”

He gave each answer with a smile, reassuring the people as best as he could. Noviselle might have thought that he couldn’t do anything, but this was the least he could accomplish, right? A smile in trying times went far to help a person.

Diligence. He’d have to keep at it if he wanted it to have any kind of effect on the people. But responsibility also rang in his ears. Something baker Garl had taught him. Was what he was using his powers for the right thing?

Galeon shook away the thought. He was talking to a housewife hanging up clothes on a line. He was sitting cross-legged in the sky, jets on the side of his legs keeping him afloat.

“And when my husband refused to come back, I chased him down!” she cackled, Galeon nodding along.

“He won’t be getting anywhere soon!” She added with a crooked smile, placing the wet briefs, shirts and pants with adeptness.

“Your husband’s lucky to have you,” Galeon told her.

“Yes, yes he is. Now get away from the balcony, you’re tempting the children,” the housewife told him. He didn’t even notice the toddlers beginning to climb up and trying to grab onto his legs.

Galeon moved away and stood in the air, scratching his face.

“Sorry about that. I should be going now. Seraphas keep you safe,” Galeon said as he began to turn away.

“Don’t you have someone you’re flying around for?” she asked him suddenly. Galeon took a moment to think about it as his jets kept him in the air.

“I’ve got my friends. And my family,” he told her, and that wasn’t a lie. Maybe Garl, Linhlo and Jance weren’t related to him, but they were the closest thing to parents that he had, and he’d protect them whenever he could.

He floated like that for a while, peoplewatching until his bewl ran out once more. Then he dropped into the crowd below and walked among them. Among them, something stood out to him.

Down a turn in his path, he saw several figures standing over a unpaved road. A burnt orange glow emanated from those figures; rough looking automatons made of metal that worked on the road before him. They looked like simple machines, a single joint here and there connecting their bodies and tools. Gravel stood in a pile beside them, that they shovelled and padded down into the ground in front of them.

They didn’t glance in his direction as Galeon stopped to look, simply working on their task. Galeon walked towards them on the road, trying to gauge a closer look at the Necromancer constructs. He glanced behind him and saw that any who turned down this road would take another instead.

It made sense. Most people would rather deal with a hallowmancer of any type, even Devourers, than risk their soul being taken by a Necromancer. Galeon had no such fear, confident in his own powers.

Even moving in front of the automatons, they seemed to ignore him. Galeon tried to test how far their senses went and waved a hand in front of one of the automatons’ eyes. It didn’t stop, still padding down the ground and filling it with gravel.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Galeon asked, but again, no response.

“Hello? Do you have a soul in there?” Galeon asked, to predictably, no response.

“If you’re alive, drop your shovel,” Galeon told him. When that didn’t work, he resorted to making faces at the machine, dropping pebbles on its head or trying to pretend he was an automaton too.

That last one he felt should’ve worked, but was stopped short.

“Can you stop harassing my Weaves?” a raspy voice asked. Galeon turned to find a chair placed in between tents, holding the figure of a woman who looked dead tired. She had on a simple dark coloured dress, bags under her eyes and black hair that split off at several points. In her hand she held a steaming cup of some sort of liquid, hidden by the shadow of the tents. She was giving him a mean stare, making Galeon wonder how he was so good at making women angry.

He dropped the spoons and bits of metal that he was going to use for his disguise, feeling guilty for causing the trouble.

“I-I’m sorry… I just… wanted to see if they were really… you know?”

“Alive? They aren’t, despite what people say,” the woman said, sipping the cup in her hand that Galeon realized was coffee.

“Who are you?... And why are you hiding in the shadows?” Galeon asked her.

“Argen. And that’s because of them,” she cocked her heard to the side, where more people were walking and mingling with each other.

“They’re scared of you?” Galeon asked.

“Terrified. Best if I don’t bother them and they don’t bother me,” Argen said. The sound of automatons pounding against the dirt ground were the only things providing sound, something Galeon found easily boring.

“Don’t you get lonely, though?” Galeon asked her. She shrugged.

“So why not try to introduce yourself?”

“Not worth it.”

“Really, have you tried?” Galeon asked.

“No, and I don’t plan on it.”

“What ab-”

“Hey, kid,” she interjected.

“Yes?”

“Why are you talking to me?” she asked

“I…. thought you’d like the conversation?” Galeon answered. She looked surprised for a single moment, before her eyes set back into an uninterested look.

“Don’t want it. Fly away, little sky,” She told him, looking down at her cup.

“Oh… okay.” He moved away from her, walking back into the thick of other people. He chanced a look behind him once or twice, trying to see if Argen would look as well, but she seemed to set her head straight on the task of her Weaves.

Maybe it’s not the soul of the dead that those things take… Galeon entertained the horrible thought, morbid as it might be. The procession in the streets thinned as he moved forward. He tried to immerse himself in the crowd again, in the midst of the people that were flitting about.

When that didn’t happen, he turned down a side alley and escaped from them. Galeon must’ve not been looking, because he bumped into something solid afterwards. He stumbled a bit as he moved forward, catching himself just before the fall.

Galeon looked at what he had hit. A person was moving past him, dark brown cloak hiding his face. Galeon rubbed his sides, feeling as if he’d hit a brick.

“Sorry about that!” he shouted out at the figure, but he didn’t respond. The man simply folded into the line of walking people. A cloak? Galeon suddenly realized. But there was no rai-

And when he looked up, Galeon saw clouds above him. He guessed that the stranger must’ve prepared beforehand. A flash of lightning made him squint his eyes, thunder following soon after. And after that, the first raindrops began to fall.

Galeon raised his coat above his head and began to run, trying to find the nearest soldier’s tent so that he wouldn’t get soaked.