Izai stood in line behind the other Kin, trying to blend in as best as he could. His disguise felt foreign: the fake wig with long, matted locks itched at his scalp, and his clothes – made from some rough, hemp-like material – hung awkwardly on him. In his luggage were the essentials: a few changes of clothes to fool security, the two feathers from the parrot, and trinkets Koralo had picked to make his disguise seem more authentic.

In another far-off line, Olav stood dressed in a black suit, chatting with security. They seemed to have bought his story about the husk. Their eyes briefly met, before Olav glanced away.

“Next,” the check-in agent called.

She asked for his passport. After flipping through it, she eyed Izai suspiciously. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his forehead. He had used fake IDs before, but that was to fool a bouncer – not government officials.

“Have a safe journey back to Kinayi,” the agent said, smiling as she stamped his fake passport.

He took a shuttle to the upper decks. It was now around 19:30. After grabbing a burger from one of the fast-food joints Koralo had explicitly told him to go to, he noticed a note written on the flipside of the tray liner. It told him which bathroom to go.

The Gale-Port was busy, mostly filled with Kin from Usadu – probably for the upcoming SolarFrost Saints game against Costadore’s Velo Volts. The line for the bathroom was long, and Izai grew increasingly nervous, unsure if the bathroom attendant would direct him to the correct stall.

Relief washed over him when he saw Koralo exit the stall the attendant had pointed out for him.

Inside the stall, hidden in the water tank, were two small stone bowls and grinders.

“Better to be safe. Don’t mix dust,” Koralo had warned him earlier.

Izai charred the feathers using his Push, then ground each into a fine blackish dust. When finished, he followed Koralo’s instructions to crush the stone bowls with his Pulse. Unable to manage it with either the Light, Medium or Heavy Cycle, he decided to overextend his Active Zone and quickly pulverize it before he lost too many Valour Points.

Next, he needed to hand the sachets of dust to Olav. He found him in the waiting lounge, sitting next to a Rohala family trying to calm their screeching baby. Izai discreetly handed off the two sachets. Olav disappeared soon after.

Izai slumped in his chair, listening to the baby’s incessant cries. When he checked his watch, it was 20:47. Still a bit of time left. Olav returned around 21:00, and Izai followed him from a distance.

They passed the duty-free shops, filled with neon-coloured adverts and smiling families in glossy brochures.

‘Visit the Sagranha Mountains and take a guided tour of Tatu’s tomb.’

Izai thought, ‘No thanks.’ If the cursed marshes were off-limits, as his mother always warned, the mountain where Tatu died shouldn’t even be a consideration.

Ahead, Olav slipped through a door unnoticed. Izai followed.

They were now in one of the airways connecting the different tiered decks of the Gale-Port.

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“Koralo says this tunnel winds all the way to the bottom deck. And not many Kin use it,” Olav said, handing Izai a set of dark clothes.

They changed quickly. The most important part of the outfit was the boots.

“Koralo says it’s going to feel weird walking amongst the chaos. So… don’t vomit on me or anything like that,” Olav gave a quick smirk.

It felt good to talk to Olav again. At 21:09, they began descending the dimly lit spiral tunnel. When they cracked the door open at the bottom, the coast was clear.

‘Now would’ve been a great time for the Pure-Sap,’ Izai thought.

They snuck themselves into the hangar they were meant to be in. It was more of a storage facility, surrounded by large crates. The area was eerily quiet. They crept up a set of metal stairs, their boots echoing. From the top, they surveyed the space below.

“Koralo says the crew will meet here,” Olav whispered. “It’s like the Folk’s Family’s private storage facility.”

“So much for –” Izai’s thought was interrupted by the distant echo of voices.

“Shh…”

The time was now 21:24. The voices grew louder as a group entered the dimly lit warehouse.

“Can we get some lights on in here? Damn,” one voice spoke.

The lights flicked on, revealing Durai Li, a half Merena, half Vuyati Folk, whom Izai had recognized from his wild escapades in the tabloids. He wore a leather jacket over a white T-shirt, jeans, and boots. His thinning grey hair was combed over, and his full beard – obviously dyed black – did nothing to hide his age. Izai could even smell the man’s cologne from where they hid.

“That’s how you’ll look twenty years from now” Izai whispered.

Olav pressed his fingers against his lips, a faint smile tugging at the corners.

Durai’s eyes gleamed as he opened a container. He lifted the necklace, its fiery orange pearls drew Izai’s gaze. It wasn’t that they were bright – he had seen better use of Solar-Sap in jewellery. Nor was it that it was incredibly beautiful – he had seen better. But it was something else. Even when Izai turned away, the necklace seemed to pull at the edge of his vision.

At exactly 21:30, the husk slid between one of Durai’s men’s legs. A second later, they were all floating.

“Go,” Olav urged.

They rushed down the stairs with heavy thuds, abandoning all stealth. The crates floated around them as they made their way to the suspended Durai. Walking felt strange, like something was tugging at Izai’s insides, trying to pull him upwards. The Folk swivelled helplessly in the air. Durai tried to speak, but the look on his face said it all: ‘You’re dead once I find out who you are.’

They quickly secured the necklace and left the warehouse.

Outside, they were on a metal ramp.

“That way up is a docking bay for the private ships,” Olav said. “We need to go the other way.”

They turned, and Izai’s glance was momentarily stolen by Polassa’s skyline. The bright lights of the North with the dimmer lights of the South.

“Psst…”

Koralo was waiting in an Air-Canoe. “Get in.”

Olav hopped in, and the canoe titled dangerously. Izai hesitated – terrified. It looked just like the canoes used on water, oars and all.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

“Yes friend, now get it.”

He stuck out his foot and hesitated for another moment.

“Quick its very smalls ship but we only have small window to leave before security notices us.”

The ride down was harrowing. The canoe tipped forward slightly, and sitting at the front, Izai felt like he’d be the first to fall. He wasn’t afraid of death – no, death would be a relief in this situation. He feared surviving the fall, something his Pulse would likely allow him to do.

He had heard that the Vihado Flying Forces from Vasotoro used to take enemy Pulser Generals high into the sky before ceremoniously dropping them to the ground. The hope was that the fall would inflict so much pain on their Regular bodies underneath their Cells, that they wouldn’t be able to move for days, before hunger or another threat landed the final blow.

“We need to go faster,” Olav said, glancing nervously at the distant Gale-Port.

Koralo instructed them to grab the oars. They rowed as if they were in water. The stronger the wind blew, the harder it became to control the small canoe. As they neared the ground, Koralo stood and used his GaleStone Push to accelerate the boat’s descent.

When they landed, they found themselves in a secluded area, just as the lights of a Gale-Cart blinked three times in the distance.

“Push Fire into sky,” Koralo directed.

Izai focused, feeling the swirl of the Essence in his stomach before it rushed to his fist. A powerful flame shot up into the night sky.

“Too bright, friend,” Koralo tapped him on the shoulder. “But good job.”

The Gale-Cart floated towards them.