Fall

Piper

Lunch went by without any more scuffles, and the group was once more waiting for Atlas’s verdict as he gazed through his vitrum binoculars.

A collective sigh was heard as he said, “I think we can enter the forest now.”

Thank Life. I was going to end something, or someone, if we had to wait much longer. Reine tore at the dry grass beneath her.

You already did, Piper pointed out. The bloody bones of several small creatures had been piled at the edge of their midday camp. Reine, Monty the badger, and Hudson had made quick work of their meals.

The leopard flicked her ears. I meant something else, other than prey.

Searching for something more beneficial to direct her fera’s attention to, Piper took her alea out of her belt, and twisted its sides. The glass cube melted and lengthened into a mace. Cooper said this wasn’t broken. Yet it won’t change for me.

Over the past few weeks, Piper’s weapon of choice was still not the ever-present mace that came with her Elben weapon. But she had learned to adjust to its weight and swing-type. At times, it had even become fun to use it recklessly on the targets in the Fletcher’s backyard.

After the battle, she had tried to use three other aleas scavenged from fallen vitrum soldiers. Each one had turned into a mace at her touch. She had become sullen rather than angry. Why did the aleas all react the same to her? Cooper had once told Piper it was because of her Western blood, but Reine had argued otherwise.

And I will argue it again, Reine snapped. We are the heroes of Elbe, Piper and Reine Amur. Hope for our allies, and thorn to our enemies. If anyone deserves to have an alea, it’s us.

But I don’t want to use a mace forever, Piper replied. Aleas are supposed to change sporadically, not stay the same. She would have liked to use the butterfly knife once more, or the crossbow. Or her short sword…

Let us be patient, Reine compromised. Then perhaps we can consider other choices.

Piper set her mouth in a fine line. It is easier said than done.

A cold wind swept through the foothills, bringing the distinct smell of fall. Piper breathed it in deeply. Goosebumps rose on her arms. The wind brought to her nose overturned leaves, rain, and a touch of something soft and smoky. A fire in someone’s hearth, far away. Perhaps they were preparing a dinner for family, or a hearty roast for friends.

She examined the woods they were approaching. Trene’s domain was already in bright decay, with variations of yellow, orange, red and brown alight in the trees. Hardly a speck of summer green remained, and it gave Piper relief. Even if the rest of Eden was still reeling from war, Life did not stop the seasons from changing. It meant one day they could move on, too.

Finch kept a healthy distance from Skye, using Milla and June as a buffer between them. Atlas and Hudson walked at the head, as usual, while Micah flitted in the space between him and the rest of the band. His badger, Monty, shuffled along beside his human.

Piper gradually gained speed until she reached the Trene ambassador. “Micah?”

Micah cast a pair of eyes on her. They were the color of downtrodden mud. “What is it, Piper?”

Piper felt childish for asking, and Reine agreed, although she didn’t outright say it. “Are you scared?”

Monty snorted. Micah’s eyebrows twitched out of their mournful position. He had not been expecting this question. “Scared?”

“Yes.” Piper gave a shallow dip of her head. Reine fed her bits of courage to not let the conversation fade.

“Scared…” Micah rubbed his rough chin. He stole a glance to Floyd. “Scared is not the right word. Dread,” his eyebrows lowered again to sorrow, “is what I feel. Dread for Nell’s wrath, dread for the honorary funeral that must happen, and most of all, dread for what will happen to Trene without our spark of joy. Loy kept us alive, you know, through his insanity. We could always look at him and laugh. Because if he could do the things he did, and survive…” Micah shrugged, “maybe we could live a little more, too.”

“Oh.” Piper struggled to think of comforting words. Reine was of little help in the world of compassion. “Take heart.” An idea occurred to her, and she decided to share her previous revelation. “Think of the seasons. Do the trees give up in autumn, when all falls, and they must start regrowth in spring?”

“There’s winter, when everything’s cold and dark,” Finch deadpanned from over June.

Reine left Piper’s side, and moved next to the messenger, cutting off further interruption.

Thank you. Piper sighed. “No. Life still gives us hope, spring, once more.”

The corners of Micah’s mouth lifted slightly. “Thanks. That was somewhat encouraging.”

“I’m glad.” Piper smiled.

Reine returned to her. That Finch is pecking off more than he can swallow. I will personally choke him if he keeps this up.

Holding back a chuckle, Piper kept her gaze pinned on the forest. On Trene.

Kane

Kane rested his head on his hands. Flint stood in rapt attention behind him, drinking in the details of the meeting around them. Cooper, Donovan, Poppy, and Griffin sat around King Asher in a U-shaped array of long tables. A decorated chair had also been provided for Kane, and a velvet rug for Flint.

This is my life now, Kane thought in exasperation. Will anything ever be done outside of this chatter?

Flint eyed him. They are discussing the plans for our future. While you’ve been there staring into space for the past half-hour, I have been taking mental notes. Would you be so kind to write them for me?

Kane pinched himself, hoping the tiny bout of pain would bring him to his senses. It did not. He rubbed his eyes instead.

Cooper nudged him with his elbow, and pushed something warm before him. “Hey. Grabbed this for ya.”

Kane blinked. “What?”

“Coffee, princeling,” the inventor whispered. “The drink of Life. Helps me get through these things.”

Or your fera does all the sleeping for you, Kane thought, looking to the koala asleep on the back of Cooper’s chair.

Flint craned his head past Kane to sniff the mug. Is it safe? He lapped the dark substance, snorting it back a second later. Do not drink that. It is horrible.

Thanks for sneezing in it. Kane gingerly pushed it back to Cooper. “Sorry. Flint doesn’t want me to drink it.”

Cooper chuckled. “Okay. I heard he was an overprotective one, but….” he trailed off and shook his head.

Notes, Flint reminded Kane.

I know, I know, Kane took his vitrum pen, and poised his hand to write. Flint relayed to him a list of important points he had memorized from the meeting thus far.

Donovan— Ensure troops are in top condition and ready for defense. Build more mountain platforms.

Cooper— Finish vitrum harvest, then continue upgrade of army.

Poppy— Train interior and royal soldiers with updated techniques. See above.

Kane looked up as Levi growled.

“Prince Kane?” King Asher said. “Are you listening?”

“Yes. Just taking notes,” Kane replied. He lifted up his pen helpfully.

“Good.” The king nodded. He turned back to the group. “Griffin, you may continue.”

The aviator was fidgeting with a piece of vitrum. As Kane looked closer, he realized it was multiple shards of the glass substance that Griffin was shifting into a three-dimensional object.

Griffin coughed, and held up the vitrum. It was a glider.

But not quite, Flint mused.

“This is my latest design for our gliders,” Griffin said. With his free hand, he lifted one of the wings so it dipped forward. “Increased control, where aviators can turn on a hairpin.” He lifted the other wing, and two crossbows lowered in front of the steering bar. “A new defense alternative, in case other methods fail.”

“Which I highly doubt,” Cooper mumbled. Kane was reminded that his weapons supplied not only the vitrum units, but the gliders as well.

“Along with this…” Griffin creased his eyebrows as he pressed a side button on the model. He pressed harder, and then recoiled as the glider gave a sharp tinkle, like a wind chime in a storm. It burst from his hands, and proceeded in a straight path towards the king.

King Asher’s eyes widened. The entire room gasped as Levi leapt from his side, and hit the vitrum model out of the air with a terrific smash. The small glider crumpled under the tiger’s paw without any resistance.

Griffin’s face was in a mask of horror. “Oh Life! Life,” he repeated, “that wasn’t supposed to happen.”

King Asher was composed. Levi returned to his side, ears flat. “I came to the same conclusion. Tell me, Griffin, what happened to the prototypes I authorized after the battle?”

Griffin quivered. “They… malfunctioned.”

“They blew up,” Poppy stated bluntly. Kane blinked. The Captain of Guard had been quiet up to this point. “I was there.”

“They weren’t meant to do that either,” Griffin said bitterly. “Their previous weapon enhancements had been less stable than crossbows.”

Kane wondered what the previous weapons had been. Cooper laughed under his breath beside him.

“What I was trying to show you for the latest model, was that…” the young aviator tugged at his collar. “It can have sensors to avoid crashes. So what happened at the Battle of the Valley, can’t repeat itself.”

“An autopilot?” Donovan ground out. “Is that what it is?”

“In a way, yes.” Griffin met eyes with everyone in the room, then fell back to staring at his smashed vitrum model on the floor.

“Perhaps you could have assistance,” King Asher ventured. “One who has experience in our Northern technology.”

“I have plenty of experience,” said Griffin stiffly.

Kane sent a sideways glance to Cooper. The inventor was smiling, his mustache curled upwards.

“I would like my funds to vitrum research to not explode. Or crash.” King Asher stabbed a finger at the floor. “Do you understand?”

Griffin sighed, and sat down. “Yes, my king.”

“I can help as soon as the harvest’s done,” Cooper chimed in. He whispered to Kane, “I’ve always wanted to see more vitrum fly.”

Within five minutes, the meeting was dismissed. Kane was asked to be the last one in the room.

“Prince Kane,” King Asher began. “I have an errand for you.”

“Okay.” Kane nodded. “What is it?”

“Before your father left, he gave—“ King Asher scowled as someone knocked on the throne room’s doors. “What now?”

Poppy came in, pale and disheveled. “Your Majesty, we have a situation. There has been an escape at the prison.”