- About an hour earlier -

As visitors from all over the five provinces had come to represent their culture at the annual Principian festivities, their means of transportation – zeppelins and flying ships – were hanging above the town against the clear blue sky, like clouds. Between large passenger ships and the salesmen’s small and bulky transporters, a single ship of shimmering gold stood out by the way its polished surface reflected the sunlight.

The Clockwork Heart did not normally fly this close to the ground. Principia’s harbor was by far the most dangerous for rogue ships and their passengers. It was only on days like these that the peace guards could not be bothered searching every single ship that wanted to make a quick stop in Principia.

The Clockwork Heart was still flying a little higher than the other ships. They were not close enough to make out single people in the streets underneath, but Bronze was out on the deck anyway, watching the various celebratory colors merge together. The little dots were shoving into and pouring out of narrow streets like confetti through a very small pipe system. If he closed his eye, he could hear faint, slightly distorted loose notes being carried all the way up here by the spiraling breeze. It was barely louder than the steady buzz of his left mechanic eye prosthesis.

“They’re always celebrating something, aren’t they?” A velvet voice sneered beside him and Bronze could practically see his friend’s upper lip twitching.

The pirate captain was leaning against the railing and he could hear the wood creaking softly from old age as Ozma put the weight of her upper body on it as well.

“Must be a great life”

“I guess we wouldn’t know” Ozma turned around, leaning her head over the railing backwards. Her heavy, purple curls were bouncing in the wind, although the ship was practically standing still. Bronze turned to watch her. He tugged a long wavy strand of hair behind his ear. It bore the same color as his name.

“What’s the plan for today, captain?” She asked the question with a sly smile on her curvy lips, like it was some kind of inside joke, a mere routine.

Bronze shrugged and that was the most honest answer he could give. Half of him always had a plan but the other half knew that there had to be room for deviations. “They say the festival is a distraction for the people because there’s a royal gathering in town today”

Now he was talking. And it was clear, just by the keen expression on his face, that there was a lot more he knew about this than he was going to give away now.

“Oh? Is it that time of the year again?” Indeed, there were plenty of annual gatherings of the highest ranked members of the five royal families. They liked to pretend that they were ruling this world when it was actually the Spirits holding the strings. Being blessed, they thought that they had been chosen by the Spirits.

Bronze shook his head and the movement caught Ozma’s attention from the corner of her eyes, but not enough to turn her head while she was still bathing in the warm sunlight.

“It’s not, actually. That’s what’s bothering me”

Ozma began to slowly catch on now. She was accustomed to the way her captain always spilled out information in careful little drops because he knew all about the mess that the wrong words could create.

“I see”

Her play-pretend disinterest was what kept Bronze going.

“You know what else they say?” He asked, not expecting an answer. “That this gathering is going to have consequences”

“Of what kind?” Ozma finally turned to look at the captain, her sunglasses slid forward to the tip of her nose.

“I don’t know. Not the good kind, I suppose. They said there are going to be protests”

Ozma raised an eyebrow. “I believe that’s none of our business”

The captain chuckled softly, a flicker of a flame in his amber eye.

“It’s not” He shrugged. “But I had some things to do in Principia anyway”

She did not believe a single word.

“Sure you did”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Well, Ozma. You know the drill. Take over while I’m gone. And I’ll see you later”

Ozma clicked her tongue at him and watched him rush off.

“Don’t forget to tell Neon. He’s gonna wanna come with you. And, frankly, I don’t want him on my ship when you’re gone without him” She warned after him, but could not be sure if he had heard at all.

~

He did not have to hear. When he entered his cabin, there was already a human-sized bulge underneath the blanket on his bed. It was moving lazily as the door fell back into its lock. Bronze barely cast it a glance, but the firm steps of his boots made it clear that he had noticed.

Upon that, the bulge moved again and groaned.

“What time is it?”

Bronze kept himself preoccupied as he threw on a plain hooded cloak and fastened his two bladed revolvers to his belt.

“Time to ask annoying questions, I guess?” He shot back idly, the words calmer than his hardened features.

“Perfect. That means I’m right on time” The voice underneath the cover hummed and some bigger movement vibrated through the soft pile of pillows and blankets. A young man sat up, his brown hair tousled. A tired smirk spread across about half of his face while the other half seemed still asleep. It took him one quick ruffle through his own hair to fix the mess and be able to look at his captain attentively enough to notice his intentions.

“Hey- Are you heading out? Didn’t you say we should wait until it gets dark?”

“No need to wait. There’s a festival down there…plenty of distraction to go unnoticed” Bronze replied matter-of-factly. He had put on the cloak that would hide both of his most recognizable features from the peace guards: His shimmering, bronze hair and his missing left eye that had been replaced by a black and golden mechanic prosthesis a couple of years ago.

It was always risky…going undercover like this. Only 24 years of age, he had already earned a reputation that would last for a lifetime.

“Sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea to me” The sarcasm dripped like honey from Neon’s still sleepy voice. “Whatever could go wrong?” He shook his head and swung his legs off of the bed, then began to fish for his shirt between the sheets.

Despite Bronze’s urgency to leave, he was now surprisingly patient, waiting for Neon to get dressed. “Are you coming or not?”

“Aye, aye, Captain” He playfully saluted right before he closed the final two buttons of his shirt.

But Bronze was barely watching him. He appeared slightly restless himself, like he did not actually want to wait. He cleared his throat as he caught Neon snatching a half empty bottle of rum from the nightstand.

“The bottle stays here” His voice cut sharp but it was immediately fended off by Neon laughing.

“Relax, I’m just having a taste before we go”

Singlehandedly emptying half a bottle could hardly be called a single ‘taste’ but Neon was still standing relatively straight – it took a lot more to knock him out – and that was good enough for him.

They left the cabin together, Bronze’s steps were determined and quick in their pace, but he was a good head smaller than his deputy. Neon had no troubles keeping up, although his movements were a lot more relaxed.

“So…why exactly are we going down there?” His actual interest in the matter was debatable but he seemed attentive enough.

Bronze sighed. “Remember the gathering we attended a while back ago?”

“You mean the one they kicked you out of?” Neon reminded him fondly. It had been just another one of those missions where Bronze had not quite gotten the grasp of what ‘undercover’ really meant.

But the captain would not let himself be irritated by that tease. He had put up with Neon’s loose tongue for far too long now.

“Yes, that is true. But the gathering was coming to an end anyway. So it doesn’t matter”

“Sure, Captain. Whatever you say”

They stopped at the railing on deck. Here, they picked up straps and hooked ropes from a wooden box on the ground.

“They were extremists. Their ideas weren’t wrong, but they were misguided. Someone had to put them into their place” He continued to lecture, completely absorbed in the fastening of straps and ropes to his chest and hips.

“Either way, they talked about the royal gathering. I wouldn’t have believed them…but so far everything’s exactly the way they predicted. Weird, isn’t it” He tended to speak his thoughts out loud, only when his deputy was nearby, although Neon did not always choose to listen.

“And you think they’re gonna make trouble” Neon stated. At least he somehow always knew when to conform to his captain’s moods, all joking aside.

“I’ve got a feeling”

“Don’t tell me this is the reason we’ve come all the way here in the first place”

The stubborn absence of an answer gave the captain away and it was everything Neon needed to but did not necessarily want to hear. Yet, there was no point in objecting. It would only get him even more worked up about this.

“Wonderful” He mumbled quietly but Bronze had either not heard or chosen to ignore him.

“Are you ready?” He closed the distance between the two of them with a single step. His hands instinctively, almost mindlessly reached out to check Neon’s equipment for strength and endurance while Neon was watching him sheepishly. He looked like he had something to say but it was most likely nothing profound.

“Worried about my safety, Captain?”

Bronze tugged noticeably rough at the straps one last time before he pushed Neon back.

“Worried about your competence” He corrected.

Like most ships above the town, the Clockwork Heart was anchored by a thick rope to one of the highest buildings in the center of the town; a complex of golden towers piling up like the pipes of an organ. To mark the occasion, some of the crisscrossing, intersecting ropes stretching between ships, zeppelins and houses were decorated with little flags and garlands in all shapes and colors. It was quite the sight but convenient, at most, for the pirates and their purposes.

Bronze climbed over the railing first. He used one free hand to hook himself to the anchoring rope, then he pushed himself off of the railing and began to glide down the rope. The climbing gear around his chest and hip secured him to a little pulley that allowed him to adjust the tempo by working his fingers around it.

There was a brief moment that felt and looked like he was free falling before he caught himself again, feather light and clearly skilled in the art as he was spiraling down the rope towards to Principia where they could already hear the cheerful music and laughter pushing by with the pressuring wind at their ears.