They'd called themselves Leaves. And, like any other leaf, they'd soared on the winds of this world, crossing the Everblue sky from port to port. Few could remember a time when airships didn't dot the Everblue. It was, after all, the advent of the airship that connected the I'l au Viceria, the Isles of the Sky.

The ecstatic trill of a doorbell rang behind Claire as she waved a farewell to the shopkeeper. She clutched a black case tied with silver cord under her arm before peering into the crowd of townsfolk that walked up and down the market street. She held for the smallest of moments, surveying those she'd sworn an oath to defend.

They dashed about in the latest fashions—petticoats drenched in bold colors with nothing but silver or gold thread embroidery accenting them. Stiff collars hid the lower halves of the men's faces, but the women's, those who didn't take too cumbersome dresses, were turned down so as to keep their allure. Feathered hats with curled brims had been the newest addition to the men's fashion, however. Claire thought they were a bit much, especially after having the feathers tickle her face by those unaware of their surroundings.

But fashion was little talked about these days. She didn't need to hear any of their conversations to know that the whispers of war were all that rested upon their lips.

It had been all that had been spoken of for the better part of the year. The Alliance had increased its patrols and taken a larger influx of recruits this year, her brother one of them. Every time she thought of him being a Leaf, her stomach churned. It was shielding him from the terrors of the world that Leaves keep at bay that drove her to become one herself. To have him follow her into that world tore at her.

She pulled her eyes from the crowd, now fixated on finding where her brother had gotten too. There, across the street, sat Evan at a café, sipping tea and reading a paper.

"Evan!" Claire called from beyond the crowd of people pushing through the street.

Evan looked up from his cup. His mouth had just filled with the sweet bitter of elf flower tea. He placed the cream-colored cup, decorated with hand-painted ivy and flowers and a gold trim at its edge, back onto its sister dish on his table and sat straighter. He narrowed his sky-lit eyes into the crowd, searching for the origin of his caller.

Claire pushed herself into the crowd. Townspeople nudged and pushed passed her, twisting her to and fro. "Excuse me," she spoke as she stuck her arm into the crowd, slicing a path across the street. "Evan!"

Evan's face lit as he found Claire in the middle of the street, struggling to cross. "What's wrong, sis? You can fly an airship through the gauntlet with your eyes closed, but a crowd is impenetrable to you?"

"Kiss my—" Claire was nearly knocked over by one of the townspeople as she stumbled to the other side of the street.

Evan snorted, which then erupted in to a full-bellied roar of laughter. His sable hair fell in his face as he clenched his gut in his arms. It wasn't until a glint of sunlight caught in his eye that he controlled his fit. It had shone off Claire's polished breastplate.

Evan wiped a tear that had formed beneath his eye and brushed his hair from his face, rearing his head up to meet his sister's glare. Her normally waved hair was in shambles from trenching across the busy way. It's sable color and their sun-brushed skin were the only similarities that confirmed their relationship. For Claire's eyes were a much deeper azure than Evan's. And much colder as they stared at him.

"Aren't you going to be late for you pilot's exam?" Her voice was firm and carried the air of leadership in it.

The green alder leaf pinned to the sky-blue lapel that poked from beneath the breastplate was the result of that. The green gemstone cut into the pointed leaf and trimmed with gold signified her rank of Fullwing—which meant she had command of her very own airship in the Alliance. It was four ranks higher than Evan's Leafbud—the pin given to recruits.

She adjusted the case beneath her arm and ran a hand through her hair in a feeble attempt to save some dignity. As a Fullwing in the Arcadian Alliance, she was expected to always maintain a dignified dress.

"My test isn't until high sun, sis. I still have—" A melodic chime from the clock tower at the center of town rang out. With each strike, a new level of chill filled Evan's veins and shot down his spine. "No..." he whispered. "I can't be late! This is my third try!"

Evan leapt from his seat, nearly toppling the table he sat at. The tea spilled forth from its cup and rolled from the table's edge into Claire's hand.

"Well, c'mon little bro, we should get to the docks." A sideways smile crept across her face.

"Race you there!" he said as a wide smile grew across his face.

Evan took off into the crowd followed by Claire. Both drove their feet into the stone-paved road, each footfall pushing them faster through the street.

"You really need to keep better time, Evan."

"Well if you hadn't spent so much time doing whatever was so important, I'd already be there!"

"You could've left without me!"

"And how would I explain to the Proctor that my sponsor decided not to come? Tell me that Claire!"

"Please, you're related to the great Claire Montresser, the youngest Fullwing in the Alliance Fleet, any Proctor would surely understand," she said with condescendence.

Evan opened his mouth to rebut but was intervened by Claire instead.

"You're not going to get your directions mixed up again and nearly crash another ship, right?"

"Shut it! Those rocks were coming at me way to fast!" Evan growled. "Besides, I have a plan this time!"

"You said that last time. You're bright, brother, but your plans terrify me!"

A breeze pushed up against their faces, and Evan's eyes lit. He slowed down, sucking the sweet air into his lungs. "Then terrified you'll be, dear sister!"

Evan drank in the marvel of the docks. The Everblue fell from the edge of the isle as streaks of latticed clouds painted the sky. Great wooden ships hung in the air, tied to the docks that stretched beyond the land. Four large pipes came through the hull at the bow of the ships on either side. Each had to be the height of two full grown men. Two smaller ones were bolted to the hull at the stern as well. These served as the engines that let the ships soar through the skies. Their massive air sails floated above them, tied to the hull, keeping them from falling into the endless expanse that waited below all isles of the Everblue.

"Montresser! Evan Montresser!" a man called into the crowd.

"I'm here! Over here! I'm not late!" Evan leapt up repeatedly, trying to get the Proctor's attention. "Claire!"

"Go, I'll catch up, Evan! You can't be late, or they'll fail you again!"

Evan leant forward to push himself faster toward the docks. "Proctor—" Evan dug his heels into the ground. His smile melted away when he saw the Proctor who'd been assigned to him.

An elder man, dressed in the long dark petticoat with crimson embroidery given only to Proctors, whose face hid not his age, looked up from his paper of testees. A grimace deepened the wrinkles that wrought his face. He shook his head: "You're late, Montresser," he groaned. "I should save myself the few years I have left and fail you now."

Evan pushed his brows together. He was determined not to fail a third time. A third failure would result in expulsion from the academy, and his dreams of piloting an airship would go with it. "Please, sir Calletus, my test was scheduled for five past high sun! I came as fast as I could!"

Calletus stared at the young boy. Evan's blue hooded shirt fluttered in the breeze that pushed into the town from the edge of the Everblue. He balled his fists and planted his feet. The man let a soft chuckle bubble up from his chest. "You carry yourself just like your sister. If only your test scores reflected your ability to fly."

Evan swallowed, but tried to keep his stoic stance. He'd watched his sister stand this way when addressing her crew. When he asked her once, she told him it was to present confidence to them—even if she was frightened.

"Now her test was a thing of beauty," Calletus recounted. "If you weren't her younger brother, I'd have you failed. It's six past high sun." He pointed to the clock tower's face. The large hand had moved just south of the tick mark to the right of the northern most one.

Evan held his breath. He felt his stomach drop lower into his gut, pulling his heart with it.

"You know, I requested to watch you fail again, Montresser. It will be my delight to throw you from my academy for your incompetence, test scores be damned! Come, let's get this over with." Calletus waived Evan over.

Evan's brows drew closer, and he jogged to follow the Proctor who led him up the wooden ramp and onto the ship he'd be taking command of for his test.

Alliance airmen scampered about the deck, tightening ropes and securing supplies as the two boarded.

"Testee aboard!" Calletus shouted.

The men dropped whatever their task was and brought their fists across their chests.

"At ease," Evan ordered.

"Where is your sponsor, Montresser?"

"Right here!" Claire smiled as she stepped aboard.

"Fullwing on deck!" one of the airmen shouted.

"At ease," Claire reciprocated as she strode beside Evan. "Apologies, Proctor Calletus, I am sadly unable to cut through a crowd as nimbly as this pipsqueak here." She patted Evan squarely on his head.

Evan blew the hair that her large hands had disheveled into his eyes. He wanted to punch her ribs, but they were no longer siblings at this moment. Claire was his superior, and his sponsor. He had to treat her with the respect of an outranking officer or suffer punitive action. Still, he hated that he only came to her breast in height.

"No worries, Fullwing Montresser. The Leafbud was just about to get underway with his preflight checks." Calletus peered down upon Evan. "Go on, boy."

"Right," Evan stated. He jumped too and began to walk the deck, inspecting the ship for anything that might cause issue during the flight.

"Stow this for me, Leaf." Claire shoved the black case she'd been carrying into the arms of one of the crewmen.

"Yes, ma'am!"

Claire folded her hands behind her back as they watched Evan.

"Have you managed to impart some of your talent for flying to your brother this time?" Calletus smoothed his coat, taking the time to pinch a speck of dust from it and roll it away between his fingers before also folding his hands full of papers behind his back.

"You and I both know he won't listen to me worth a damn," Claire chuckled. "He's just like our father... Stubborn as all."

"Yes, but we've never seen one with such knowledge before. His test scores were the highest in record for the academy."

"I told him he should apply to the strategists wing, but his dream has always been to sail the skies like our father." A dream I hate... She looked beyond the sky for a moment.

"Ah, the loss of the Silver Griffin was undoubtedly a major blow to the Alliance..." Calletus paused. "How is your family doing?"

"Mom's still upset. She hates that both me and Evan insisted on enlisting. More so that we both applied to be pilots in the end..." Claire stared at her feet. "I doubt it would go over well knowing we both could be sent into war at any moment."

"Indeed. I feel her sympathies. My son is a crewman of the alliance. The Empire still continues to show their might toward us. The winds do seem to be shifting toward war." Calletus scratched at his chin as he looked over the stern and into the endless sky. "Why does he insist so on becoming a pilot? He can't even tell his left from his right."

Claire narrowed her eyes. "He believes our father just abandoned us. The Griffin was reported missing, not destroyed. But it's not hard to guess why." Her voice grew low. "I wish he'd give up that thought. Dad's dead... It could only be the doing of the Empire too," she hissed.

"Everything appears to be in order, Proctor Calletus," Evan said, walking back towards the two from the bow. His hands were interlaced behind his head, and he wore a callus look about his face. His eyes caught on the large blue stone that rested chest height to him on the portside of the helm atop the upper deck.

"Is that so? Then let's proceed to the next step."

Evan leapt up the stairs to the helm two at a time, followed by Calletus and Claire. He couldn't contain the smile as his hands gripped the handles of the helm. His heart raced, and the breeze lifted strands of his hair from his head. Evan never felt more alive than when the helm was at his fingertips. There was an electrifying energy that flowed from the ship into his body and filled his very soul every time.

"What are you forgetting, Leafbud?" Calletus' patronizing weighed into Evan's chest.

"Oh... right, sorry Proctor."

Evan let go of the helm and moved to the stone that rested beside it. He tapped it with his finger. A metallic clank came from the plated glove he wore as it connected with the stone. A blue light swirled within the royal blue crystal, and a map flickered into existence.

"Amazing things the Cartographer Crystals, aren't they?" Calletus admired.

"We wouldn't be able to sail the Everblue without them," Claire agreed.

"Tell me, Evan. What is the purpose of the Cartographer Crystal, and why does it allow us to sail the sky?"

"They help us navigate because they remember every stone they've ever touched," Evan stated. "If it weren't for the discovery of these, we wouldn't know which way we were flying, and would probably sail into the Abyss with no way of coming back."

"Precisely, but how do they do this?"

"Well, the center light there," Evan said as he pointed to the pulsating light in the middle of the translucent map. "Indicates this crystal's position. The other features show any stone that's ever touched the crystal. Once a stone touches the crystal, it knows the exact size and location of that stone's home isle. But we still don't know why it works, just that it does. I think it's magic, like in the stories before our world was shattered!"

"Bright as ever, but no need to speculate as to why it works. We all know magic doesn't exist, and those stories about the world being whole and oceans of water resting where the Everblue is are just tales, boy." Calletus dismissed. "Back to the matter. Show me the route we'll be taking."

Evan pinched his brow together. He knew it had to be magic. Magic explained everything about this world that didn't make sense, like why the isles didn't fall from the sky into the Abyss, and why the cores were also able to power the airship's engines, removing the need to wait for the winds to favor the sailors.

Evan shook his head. This was no time to lose it in a debate. "We'll be taking the standard testee's course through the Gauntlet. We'll enter the labyrinth and conduct maneuvers through the Gauntlet." Evan whipped the map around, pointing to a formation of rocks that rested above and a way's away from their current position. "Once I've navigated through, we'll return to port and dock. If all goes well, you'll be pinning me in a little over an hour." A smile plastered across Evan's face as he looked up at Calletus.

"What else?"

Evan's brow pinched back together as he thought what he could've missed. "Oh, that's right! The shrikes are nesting there this time of year. Claire will be assuming the position of my Firstwing while I assume command of the ship."

"Firstwing, Montresser, have the cannons loaded with Dragon's breath, and tell the crew to load their rifles with Shrikeshot in case any decide to get hungry."

Claire flashed a small smile at Evan. "You heard him, men!" She ordered. "Load those canons and shove your rifles full, lest you become fledgling shrike food tonight instead of warming the beds of your wives!"

"If you don't nearly kill us all again, boy," Calletus spat. "Remember, I'll be watching your every move. If I so much as think you're about to make a wrong command, I'll fail you and your sister will assume command to fly us back, clear?"

Evan swallowed, but held Calletus' condescending stare. "Yes, Proctor."

"Good. The helm is yours then."

"Right." Evan grasped the helm once more and held tight. "All hands, prepare to set sail!"

Claire echoed him and the crew jumped into action. Evan gripped the throttle that controlled the forward and backward propulsion of the ship. He reared his head around to the stern, then back to his sister. "All reverse! Prepare, twenty degrees..." He hesitated and looked at the back of his plated gloves.

Evan had scratched a "P" onto the back of the plate on his left hand for Portside, and an "S" onto his right for Starboard. "Port! Shove off!"

"Twenty degrees port! Shove off!" the men echoed as they threw the ropes holding the ship to the dock off the railings.

Evan pulled back on the throttle, and the engines at the bow and stern whirred to life. They rotated toward the bow of the ship and began blasting fire. The wood of the ship groaned, and Evan threw the helm to his right as they began backing away from the dock. Within a few seconds, he'd spun the ship around away from the Port of Estailia.

"All ahead full, lift!" he commanded and was echoed by the crew. He slung the throttle into the forward position and eased the one beside it forward as well. The ship lurched and everyone braced against the lunge forward and upward.

Evan felt alive as the wind whipped through his hair. The isle grew smaller as the airship gained speed and soared through the sky. He was flying. He twirled the wheel to the right, and the ship tilted to its starboard side. Two of the engines at the bow turned down on the portside, and two on the starboard turned up, allowing the ship to make the maneuver while the two at the stern stayed pointed toward the bottom of the ship to keep it upright.

Evan eased off the vertical control, allowing the ship to center itself. A dull grey rock mass grew against the blue in the distance. He felt his body flood with fire and his knees grow weak. His first test he'd failed because he'd overslept. His last test had failed when he almost let the ship get crushed between two rocks. Had his sister not taken over when she had, him and the entire crew would've been crushed or fell to their deaths that day.

The Gauntlet laid before him. A course all pilots had to complete to earn their badge. This mass of rocks that turned and crashed against one another was all that floated between him and becoming a full-fledged Leaf of the Alliance. Evan narrowed his eyes on it. He would do it this time.

Then he would set sail with his own ship to find his father and take from him the reason why he abandoned his family.