Flying is so convenient.

I’ve had this thought many times since I first formed my own wings. Without flight, it would be almost impossible to travel anywhere within a reasonable length of time.

Well, unless your name is Tore and can jump kilometres in the blink of an eye.

Train networks spread through the nations cut what would be month long journeys to only a few days, but the wasteland my kind calls home doesn’t have the benefit of such technology. The ability to fly means I benefit from the reduced travel time like with trains, but where I travel isn’t limited by the location of pre-laid rail-tracks.

What’s even greater is that challenging landscapes for a land-bound traveller are no obstacle. Like the cliffs below. The ocean crashes against the tall stone walls with an impact that continually has me searching for some monster or attacker. It takes a long while of soaring over the tumultuous waves before it finally sinks in that in that the constant movement of the ocean isn’t some explosion or attack.

I’ve feared the ocean because it’s a large body of water that can spit out immense, consuming mists. Acknowledging that it can inflict enough force to crack and shatter the stone simply by existing is not something I want to do. Just how many terrifying facets is the ocean hiding?

With my white flames I can now burn through water, and yet the little I could burn through would be nothing in the face of the ocean’s force.

Unlike our destination, the base of this cliff isn’t even visible within the depths. Anyone travelling west would have to walk along the jagged cliff-top where sharp slope changes are so common that one would cling to walls more often than walking.

Imagining just how long it would take to traverse if we lacked flight makes me more glad for the capability than ever. Even if Gerben encouraged Leal on this trip, I doubt he’d want her to be gone for the years it’d likely take without wings.

Eventually, the ocean recedes from the cliff. We’ll be approaching the area where the Titan landed soon enough. The area I lost everything. I close my eyes and prepare myself. Returning to the grave of my tribe will not be easy, but it is something I need to do. If not now, after I’ve fulfilled my promise to myself to become strong, then when?

A gasp from my side forces me to open my eyes. There it is, the shattered cliffs I barely escaped with my life. From the air, the damage inflicted upon the landscape by the titan appears far worse than even what I’d thought from the ground.

Until now, we’ve been following a consistent wall of earth, but around the path of the Titan, a dozen kilometres of the earth has simply crumbled, leaving a slope between the plateau above and the base. The Titan’s molten path itself has cooled, leaving a similar black stone like I’d seen up on the Alps. The black rock weaves through much of the shattered earth that hadn’t been completely melted by the immense being’s heat before pooling in a now solidified lake of lava.

“What is this?” Leal says, her tone hushed and unbelieving.

Even though this is the first time she has initiated conversation since we started, I can’t bring myself to answer. I’m trying to get along with Leal, not drop the mood by mentioning the death of my family.

“I’m going to search now. Find a place to set up for the night, but be careful on the cliffs; they might still be unstable.”

I fly off before they can say anything. Years have passed since I overcame the grief of their deaths, but now that I’m here, memories dredge to the surface of my mind along with a constriction in my chest.

Amongst the many cracks and crevices at the base of the fractured cliff is the one that I climbed my way out of years ago, but I have no way of knowing which. Instead, I fly to the top, where the caved-in former entrance to the cavern pass should be. Should be, but isn’t. What was once a labyrinth of fissures that could be skirted, now only holds some uncrumbled pillars. The rest; shattered. There’s no way to traverse the area with legs anymore. After I left, the earth must have caved in further.

There’s still a chance to find the entrance, so I fly around for a while, but after my first comb through doesn’t reveal any sight of it, I don’t bother continuing. It’s fine though, I don’t have a starting point, but it will only make the search a little longer.

I fly down into a major fissure near where I think the tunnel once was and set myself upon a solid earth. Since I achieved the new state of fire at the end of the war, I’ve done some experimentation with it. The non-tangible flames are perfect for me to search through all this rock without creating another Titan level lava pit. There are still flammable items amongst what my tribe lost down there. If I can get a map, we might find our way to the Agglomerate without difficulty.

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My feathered form finds a comfortable position on the rock. This will take a while. With my flames as ethereal as I can make them, I push them into the earth. They pass through with resistance, but the rock doesn’t burn. It’s a little similar to how my flames can travel through the inscription network built into a building, but slow; like I’m wading through cooling magma.

My colder, golden flames spread through the ground beneath me. I could have used my hottest flame — and I am very much tempted to, with the considerable bonus Kalma’s body provided my capacity — but while that would be far faster, it is less practical. Also, a tremendous waste of energy.

The process is slow, and I take a while to permeate the area beneath me, but I gain a rather good mental picture. I wish I could control the same amount of energy Kalma gifted me in that battle. This would be so much faster if I could use as much white flame as I wanted, but even if I hadn’t had to rely on the ritual to take in her body as fuel for my capacity, I never would have been able to jump to her capability. It is unfortunate, but consuming one’s body doesn’t automatically give you the strength they have gained, only the energy that has permeated their flesh.

Good luck to anyone who plans to do that to me after I die. I won’t even leave a body for them to absorb… unless they eat me whole before my death.

Really, even though I like the idea of becoming as strong as Kalma, it probably wouldn’t be a good thing if that were the case. I already know those in power often abuse it. What if one of those Mercenary Order executives ordered a Beith killed, then absorbed all their power into themselves? They wouldn’t even need to work for it.

My flames flow through a small enclosed cavern and touch something incredible. With hardly the lightest touch, my fire pulls through the spear, compressing almost unwillingly, and burns out the tip with a sizzling white heat. There is no doubt in my mind; this is Mum’s spear. It pushes my fire to a stage higher without input on my end. I could have stopped it if I wanted — I know that instinctively — but the spear took a hold of my fire in a way none of the inscriptions I’ve encountered so far have been able to.

The metal itself is incredible. It easily reaches the same temperature as my fire without showing even the slightest hint of deforming. Even with white flames, it won’t melt.

I’ve always known our relic weapons were impressive, but this is incredible. Far beyond anything I expected. Without waiting another second, I melt through the rock beneath me and wade toward it. I’m getting that spear and nobody can stop me.

With my flames already pervading the rock, it takes no time to melt away a path toward my mum’s spear. I swim through magma until finally the metal shaft is in my hands. Through the molten rock, I can feel the slight grooves along the hot metal, but I can’t see. The touch of the spear in my hands is like an extension to my arm. No different than if I were to grow my body into the shape of a spear.

There’s still more I need to grab down in the collapsed tunnels, but I want, no, need to get a look at this thing now. The rock, permeating with my heat, carries me back to the surface. Once the sky is above me, I shake off the lava clinging to me and inspect the relic spear.

The shaft is a dark silver metal with glistening white etchings across its length. The engravings are clearly inscriptions, but as my flames flow freely through the spear, the pearly patterns never shine. Like the thermal protection I can apply to my clothing, these inscriptions are clearly different from those used by every other race.

I push golden flame through the spear, and awe at the white fire that coats the spear-head. The black blade handling the heat with ease. Curiosity overwhelms me, so of course I push the flames entering the spear to my hottest. If I were to rely on sight alone, I probably would have thought it failed. To the eye, there isn’t anything coating the dark, glass-like spear-tip, except some slight rippling in the air.

But I can feel it.

The flames are still there, yet they have become invisible. Hotter than even the white flames, this invisible fire is incomparably stronger.

I’d noticed it when the spear upgraded my yellow flames, but it is far more efficient at the transition than I am. About half of the same golden fire is needed to create the white flames. Is the spear just that much better at it than me, or does it enhance my control? If it’s the latter, that’s incredible. I don’t think it’s even possible for the inscriptions from the other races to amplify strengths of those who wield them.

Then again, I never actually got to inspect one of those Riparia made weapons. Maybe they can do something similar.

But there’s no doubt in my mind; this weapon is made for an áed to wield. The improvement to my flame, the resistance to heat that would near vaporise any other metal, and simply how natural it feels in my hands.

If only I’d come here sooner. I’m sure killing a Viisin would have been easy if I had this.

It is a bit heavy for me, but nothing a little modification of my weight can’t handle. What is more concerning, is the constant drain on my energy to keep the invisible flame alive. Normally, just having my flame sit around doesn’t consume all that much, but this feels more like I’m constantly creating a new flame rather than holding one.

I try to take control of the flame at the tip of Mum’s spear, but while it follows my commands for a few seconds, it quickly disperses despite my attempts to have it continue burning. There goes the idea to use the spear to create higher tier firestorms. I’ll still need to create them myself. Not like that will be much of an issue with how far my capacity has grown.

The drain from the spear isn’t damning or anything. In fact, it’s rather low considering it allows me to reach a heat I can’t yet myself, but it’s not something I’ll be able to burn constantly.

I twirl the spear around me, careful not to let the tip carve through the walls of the fissure. It feels great to have a solid bit of metal back in my hands. With the heat I can put out combined with the creatures I ended up fighting, a normal steel weapon simply didn’t cut it.

My spear slams down with an overhead strike, transparent flame bursts forth, melting away stone in an instant before the heat disperses. Molten slag dribbles down the new hole in the wall and pools around my feet. I am thrilled with my new weapon, and while I would love to play around with it more, I still need to find the other two relics, along with whatever else my tribe might have left behind.