Admiral Anders Volant received the news with solemn composure when the Zephyrs reported to him, immediately after landing in the shuttle bay of the Ventus. He listened to their account, read a few passages in Inpheria's journal, then dismissed them after extracting a promise that they were not to disclose the particulars of their voyage to anyone else on the ship. As they were stepping from the admiral's cabin, Eldin turned back and locked eyes with the man, and it was upon those hard features he read the oppressive weight of disappointment. A fresh blow of guilt hit Eldin for his failure to have done anything to help the ship.

The three returned to life as well as they could manage. As promised, Fenric buried himself in his engineering work, desperate to find some way to improve the engines. In addition, he and his team worked on modifying the purewind stabilizer to the point where it could protect the whole ship from the stronger windstorms closer to the source of the windstones. The admiral's preliminary plan was to travel to the windwyrm itself once a sufficiently powerful stabilizer could be built. There, the windstones would be at their highest potency, and would go a long way toward delaying the exhaustion of their supply. It would do nothing in the long-term, for the windwyrm was expected to die regardless, but it would extend their own survival for some time.

This work kept Fenric occupied, and Eldin rarely saw him. Even during those rare times when they took meals together, the shadow of their grim future wedged a distance between the two that Eldin found he could not overcome with any amount of their usual joking and teasing.

Eldin saw even less of Inpheria than of Fenric. She had seemed almost to disappear entirely, though it wasn't long before he learned the truth--the discovery of which devastated him. Crossing the berth deck one morning, he saw Veric's cabin door open, through which Veric himself stepped out.

Inpheria followed just behind him.

They were panting, sweating, and Inpheria was fastening the laces of her bodice. Veric was laughing at something she had just said. Eldin, in a panic, ducked around a corner before he was spotted and fled to his own cabin, where the remainder of the day passed in a haze of throbbing agony. The pain of seeing them together was dreadful, but worse than that was the self-loathing he felt at the knowledge that it was his own fault. His own inaction had driven her away to another man. For years he stalled, like a coward, and now he had been punished for it. From that moment on, he avoided Inpheria each time he spotted her in the passageways or the galley.

He fulfilled his own duties as a Windchaser, but his heart was no longer in the hunt, and his results suffered for it. Even dancing in his beloved windstorms could not ease the pain that alternated between the looming threat the ship faced and Inpheria's blossoming romance with Veric. Desperate to relieve himself of his agony, he remained secluded in his cabin during any moment he was not on a windstone hunt or eating, so as not to face the people he had failed to save and the woman he had lost.

Nearly a year passed in such a way.

Eventually, word somehow escaped throughout the ship that there was some sort of problem with the windstone supply, though most of the crew and the civilians were not aware of the particulars, nor just how dire the circumstances were. Still, there was an oppressive aura of uneasiness as people wondered about the truth, until one day at last, Fenric's team had completed a much more powerful version of his purewind stabilizer, one that could protect the entire Ventus. The next morning at the bridge, Admiral Anders announced to his officers--including Eldin, as captain of the Windchasers--that the ship would be sailing toward the windwyrm to harvest a more powerful windstone.

"Sir," Eldin said, after the admiral's announcement.

"Speak, Captain Eldin."

"I've seen the strength of the windstorms when they're first released by the windwyrm. They're not safe to fly in. Even I wouldn't chance it. How are we supposed to collect the windstones?"

"We have anticipated that problem already, and devised a solution." The admiral was quiet for a moment, and Eldin had rarely seen his face so grave when he at last said, "We will slaughter the windwyrm and carve its heart out to fuel our engines."

The room filled at once with the astonished murmuring of the officers.

"Silence," the admiral said in a voice booming with authority, and the room fell to a hush at once. "We know that the windstones lose potency the instant they are broken off from the windwyrm's heart, and continue to do so as they use their own energy to produce the windstorms. If we can gain access to the heart itself, we can draw purewind from it directly to massively reduce energy loss. In this way, the ship could fly longer than if we had used windstones themselves--perhaps a decade or longer."

Nobody spoke, but the faces on the officers showed hesitation. Eldin himself clenched his fists over and over, feeling a simmering fury building inside of him that was tinged with disgust at Admiral Anders. The man had always been hard and stern, but never so ruthless as this. The windwyrm had not only helped humanity flee the surface, but had afterward sacrificed its own life, slowly, over hundreds of years, to maintain the functionality of the ship. To murder a such an honorable, selfless creature--a friend--simply to give humans a few more years was something Eldin couldn't support, and he was appalled that the admiral was even willing to consider it.

He looked at the first mate, Laurian Davenworth, who--unlike the other officers--was nodding appreciatively and smiling. Eldin knew it then: The plan to slaughter the windwyrm was the first mate's idea, and he had somehow convinced Admiral Anders to go along with it. Only Veric's father--who had always shared his son's brutal nature--could have devised such a plan.

But the admiral was not a man easily swayed. He listened to the advice of his officers, but ultimately never let anyone's opinions outweigh his own trusted instincts. He must be really desperate, and Eldin believed if he could only speak to the man, he could convince him to abandon this heinous plan.

"Sir," Eldin said, once the admiral had dismissed the meeting. He had caught the man alone in a corner of the bridge, and spoke with as much composure as he could muster, despite his nerves. "The windwyrm is a friend to us, and has been since before the Ascension. Killing it won't save us--only delay the inevitable. That's betrayal, and for nothing but a few extra years of life."

"A few extra years for thousands of souls," Anders said sternly, "in exchange for one. This is not a decision made easily, Captain Eldin, but if during that extra time won we are able to contrive some other means of ensuring our survival, it will be worth it." A flash of sorrow passed his face when he said, "I will happily bear the sin if it means the safety of our people."

The emotion on the admiral's face deflated Eldin's passion, and his argument died on his lips. "It doesn't feel right," was all he could manage.

"It isn't right. But it is necessary."

"Right," Eldin muttered, and he left without being dismissed.

Down in the sweltering engine room, he found Fenric, face and jumpsuit covered in oil stains, looking over some massive contraption and marking notes on a paper. Eldin vaguely recognized the machine as a much larger version of his purewind stabilizer.

"Fen," Eldin said, and his friend's eyes showed surprise when he looked up.

"El--you never come down here. What's going on?"

"I just came from an officer's meeting. Something's happening."

"I've already heard, though I don't know anything besides that we're sailing west tomorrow."

Eldin shook his head. "Everyone else is. You and I--we're sailing west today."

----------------------------------------

"That's brutal, even for old Anders," Fenric said. They were in the shuttle bay, loading their traveling bags into the same vessel they had used a year prior on their original voyage to the source of the windstones.

"Yeah. I think Laurian is behind it, and the admiral is just desperate and thinks there's no other choice."

"Is there another choice?"

Eldin hesitated before answering. "I don't know. But we have to warn the windwyrm of what's coming. I don't know if it can flee somewhere, but we have to try."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"Maybe it'll want to stay and fight back."

Eldin scoffed. "I sure hope not. I don't know who would win. The windwyrm is massive, but so is the ship. Let's get going."

"Forgetting someone?" a voice called from behind.

That voice chilled Eldin's heart. He didn't look back when he said, "We don't need your help, Inpheria."

"And I don't need your permission." She walked up and hurled her own huge bundle into the shuttle. Strangely, she had abandoned her usual skirts in favor of masculine garb: a loose-fitting linen shirt, trousers held up by suspenders, and flat-footed hunting boots. Her typically free-flowing hair had been tied up into a neat orange bun.

"You can't come," Eldin said firmly.

"You can't stop me." She started to climb into the shuttle, but Eldin gripped her arm. She looked back with venom in her eyes, a look that paralyzed him. She shook herself free of his grasp and climbed the rest of the way into the shuttle. Inside, she passed Fenric, who looked at Eldin and shrugged.

Eldin groaned his frustration, then boarded the shuttle himself. Soon, they had departed.

After setting their course and engaging the autopilot, Fenric was free to apprise Inpheria of the true nature of the Ventus's voyage. She, like Fenric, had not been told the specifics, but knew that sailing west meant something big was happening. She explained that when word of the upcoming voyage quickly spread, she checked the engineering deck for Fenric, then knocked at Eldin's cabin door for him, and determined--when she could find neither--that they must be planning to take a shuttle themselves and so intercepted them in the shuttle bay.

When Fenric told her of the murderous intentions of the admiral, she was just as stricken as Eldin had been, but their shared indignation did not cool the heat of contention between them. Hardly a word was spoken between the two during the several-week trip, and it was in low spirits that the trio landed once again atop the lonely mountain of the windwyrm's home.

They didn't have to hike to the peak this time, for the windwyrm met them eagerly near the base of visible mountaintop where it met the clouds. Eldin sprang from the shuttle before Fenric had even disengaged the engines and rushed to the windwyrm to warn of it of the impending danger.

"If that is what must be, then I will oblige to offer humanity the remainder of my heart," it said after Eldin's explanation. Inpheria and Fenric had caught up by this time, and the three of them stood together.

"But-- But--" Eldin stammered.

"The others of my kin perished when the calamity struck, and it is a lonesome world without them. My only solace in that sorrow has been my duty to protect humanity, and I accepted long ago that I was destined to die in service to that end. It is only my hope that you may find a more permanent solution before long." The windwyrm was silent for some time before at last it said, almost in a whisper, "I am ready for the end. Your people will find no resistance when they reach this place."

With those words, the tremendous weight that had borne down on Eldin's soul finally crushed the last fragment of his spirit. The ship's doom, and humanity with her, the death sentence of the devoted windwyrm, his strained relationship with Fenric and the ruin of his bond with Inpheria--the combined torment of it all finally pushed him over the edge. His head dropped and he stared at the ground, a broken man.

He felt the strong grip of Fenric's hand as his friend squeezed him affectionately on the shoulder from behind. He found it annoying instead of reassuring, and shook it off.

"El," Fenric said. "We just have to accept it. We've done all we can."

"You mean you've done all you can--and not for the better."

"What do you mean?"

Eldin still didn't look at Fenric. "It's your machine that now allows the Ventus to come here. The windwyrm would be safe if not for you."

Fenric's voice rose in feverish anger. He shouted at Eldin's back. "Are you blaming me for this? When I designed the stabilizer, we didn't even know the windwyrm existed. And even after, when I was modifying it, I had no idea Admiral Anders would use it for this purpose. You're being completely irrational."

Fenric was right. Eldin knew he was being unfair, but he was so broken, he didn't care. He didn't bother responding.

But it seemed Fenric wasn't done. He grabbed Eldin by the shoulder and forced him to turn around. "El--listen to me!"

But Eldin didn't listen to him. He pushed Fenric away. And Fenric pushed back, and soon, the boys were struggling in a heap on the ground, fists and feet striking each other in a foolish tussle.

"Boys!" Inpheria shouted.

They ignored her, continuing to pound on each other, cursing and growling.

"Boys!" she shouted, louder.

Fenric managed to get atop Eldin and tried to pin him down, but the Windchaser heaved with all his might and pushed the engineer to the side, where he rolled several times before getting to his feet. Eldin rose too, then charged Fenric in a heavy tackle that flung them both down the steep slope of the mountaintop, where they slid uncontrollably on the loose pebbles of the scree.

Eldin couldn't stop his momentum, nor even orient himself, for the world spun in a blur around him as he tumbled. At the mercy of gravity, he could do nothing as he fell down and down, and soon, he was blinded by a dense whiteness, realizing--with a greater horror than he had ever felt before--that he was sliding beneath the clouds.

Panic seized him by the heart. He clawed desperately at the pebbles, desperate to gain purchase and slow himself to a stop, but his efforts availed him nothing, and soon, he had descended all the way through the layer of cloud and into damnation.

700 years ago, something in the planet's atmosphere mutated, and a deadly miasma--like a thick, orange fog--descended upon the world. The miasma was hateful. It destroyed every living thing it touched with its searing hot anger. Unprotected exposure to it burned the skin like the inside of an oven. Prolonged subjugation left one's entire body blistered and cooked, though in a single act of mercy, its victims often died before then from simply inhaling the foul vapor, incinerating the lungs from the inside.

The miasma crept upon the world slowly, over the course of years, giving humanity time to devise a solution. After discovering that the miasma did not penetrate the clouds, the Ventus was constructed, though it seemed that some details concerning the role of the windwyrm and its kin had been lost to common knowledge.

It was this miasma that had murdered Eldin's mother. She had been a crewmember on the Ventus when one day, while tethered to a safety line and lowered down to inspect the condition of the purewind turbines, a frayed section of her harness rope snapped and she tumbled down into the clouds. By chance, the rope caught on the hull, causing her to dangle in place in the choking confines of the miasma. She was unable to climb high enough to escape it, and by the time she had been rescued, it was too late. She died lying upon the deck with her son's hands in her own.

Eldin, in the midst of that orange hell and mind consumed with the memory of a woman cooked beyond recognition, howled in a panic that bordered on madness. His descent had finally slowed to a stop, but his wild, frantic attempts to climb back up the mountain failed him, and for every yard he ascended he slipped to fall two back down. The miasma had long begun to eat at his skin, and he smelled and heard the sizzling of his own flesh as he cooked. A fit of coughing overtook him as he inhaled the foulness and it began to kill him from the inside. Hysterical tears fell from his eyes. He gripped his hair in his hands and roared in agony.

And then, in the midst of that madness, he had an idea.

He gripped the emergency windstone he always kept in the pocket of his windsuit and summoned a tremendous blast of purewind to blow in every direction away from him. The miasma, as if in fright, fled before the purewind and left behind it a large area of clear air around him. He took a huge, gulping breath, and while his skin still pained him, the worst of the burning ceased at once.

A choking cough nearby drew his attention. Fenric had fallen farther than Eldin had, and was far enough away that he was still caught the miasma. Eldin couldn't see him through the orange veil, but determined which direction he was by his voice, and stumbled toward him while maintaining the purewind barrier to protect himself. Soon, the engineer's prone body passed through the threshold of the purewind as Eldin drew close enough to envelop him in it. His friend's skin was blistered and red, but by his continued pained rasping, he was still alive.

Fenric coughed violently several more times, then looked around him with wide eyes of surprise to find the miasma pushed back. After Eldin helped Fenric to his feet, the engineer said, "Purewind can repel the miasma?" in a wheeze that was barely intelligible.

"I'm just as surprised as you. I hardly expected it to work. I was just desperate--couldn't think of anything else."

"Well I'm damn happy for that." He coughed again, then said, "Let's get back up."

The ascent was slow, for they were in bad shape from their fall down the mountain and the effects of the miasma. Eldin found it painful to speak, and so the two climbed in silence, save for one brief exchange halfway up.

"Sorry," Eldin said.

Fenric ruffled Eldin's hair, smiling. Eldin pushed him away playfully, smiling as well. And then it was all behind them.

When they broke through the cloudtop, some forty minutes after they had fallen, they found Inpheria sitting on the ground with her head to her knees, weeping. She heard their step and looked up, and Eldin had never seen such emotion on her face. She leapt to her feet and flew toward them, then wrapped them both in a fierce hug, crying and laughing simultaneously. Her grip pained Eldin's burned skin, but he let her embrace him, for once forgetting the chasm that had grown between them.

"How did you survive?" she asked upon breaking the hug.

Eldin held up his windstone. "Purewind repels the miasma."

"What? I didn't know that."

"Neither did I."

"Nor I," came a booming voice from above. It was the windwyrm, who had been watching them since Eldin and Fenric stepped through the clouds. "This is a significant discovery. It changes much."

"What do you mean?" Fenric asked.

"I mean"--and the windwyrm drew its massive head to just a couple feet in front of them--"there may be a way to save your ship after all."