Aegis Online

As the sun rises through the clouds, paledawn light casting faint fingers of gold everywhere, the crowd of assembled Cloudracers jostling for position at the starting line, we approach, Morrigan wrapped in a large black cloak. Best not to play our first card so soon.

A few sneers come her way, but Mor ignores them, stepping over to take a place at the back of the cluster of hopefuls. A horn blares out, and the headman of the Aerenian Archipelago steps up, his gold wings glittering as he throws his arms wide.

“My people! It is that most sacred of days, where the next generation of children cast aside the trappings of youth and stand as equals, adults grown, among us! But there is time enough for them to choose their callings, to find wives or husbands and start families of their own. Now… they must fly like they never have before, to prove themselves to their peers! They must complete the course we have marked as fast as they can! And, for the lucky Aerenian whose wings beat fastest, we have our prize: 5,000 Cloudmarks!”

 

I roll my eyes. Cloudscript, Cloudraces, Cloudmarks… it’s all clouds, all the time here!

Judging by the size and obvious weight of the coinpurse the headman is indicating, though, it seems as though 5,000 Cloudmarks is a substantial amount of coin. The crowd’s murmuring grows louder, all thought of Mor’s presence forgotten for now.

Once the hubbub has subsided, though, the headman clapped his hands twice.

“And now, without further ado… we may start the countdown! FIVE!”

The sounds of wings unfurling and feathers rustling fills the air. Mor’s cloak stays on.

“FOUR!”

A few elbows are thrown as the most competitive jostle for every micrometre of space, every tiniest little advantage.

“THREE!”

Silence reigns.

“TWO!”

I hold my breath, Astie’s fingers intertwined with mine.

“ONE!”

Ulged’s shoulders and head stick out of the crowd of watching parents and families, the tail-end of a rasher of bacon disappearing into his ravenous jaws.

“GO!”

In one fluid move, Mor’s cloak explodes off her as she unlaces the neck and unfurls her crimson, orange, and yellow-feathered wings. Taking three quick strides, each accompanied by a thunderous wingbeat, she hurls herself off the precipice to shocked cries, and her wings catch the updraft, powering her up and forwards effortlessly, her black hair whipping about her face as she follows the leaders, starting to gain on them as roars of outrage and fury from those slower on the uptake than her begin to give chase.

 I crane my neck, trying to keep her in sight for as long as I can, before she disappears, passing between the first pair of glowing light balls that indicate the course, and vanishing into the clouds.

 

 

Now that the excitement has died down, I can hear a few people murmuring about Morrigan’s new wings, wondering how she’s suddenly got them, asking if this is cheating somehow. I roll my eyes. Mor’s wings aren’t any faster than mine. She’s only working with the same capabilities ANY Skyborne has at their disposal. If she wins, it’ll be because of natural talent and hard work that she’s now able to demonstrate!

 

 

(FREE P.O.V)

 

Morrigan’s wings beat steadily as she darts past one of the boys ahead, her slim body weaving past the flagging Skyborne as she passes between another set of light orbs, keeping to the tail-end of the leading group. Wait, conserve your strength, then snatch victory right from out of their grasp! Show them what you can do, Mor…

 

Up ahead, as he turns a lazy spiral in the air, Morrigan’s finally noticed by Karrul, the ringleader of the gang of tormentors Mor’d been contending with ever since her parents had died. Shock, outrage, and open hate warred on his face as he took in the sight of her wings, and he kicked a couple of his cronies lightly. “Deal with her! She’s not supposed to fly, so stop her!”

The two boys dutifully nod and drop back, flanking her. The one on the right, Arkos, aims a sloppy punch at Mor’s ribs, but she drops her speed sharply for a fraction of a second, causing him to punch his brother in the gut.

Then, when Arkos’ brother Kadin swings a kick, Mor accelerates, leaving the two brothers swearing and muffled in the distance behind her as they try to untangle their limbs. Karrul’s expression sharpens. Mor’s fighting back, and, what’s worse in his opinion, she’s WINNING! Seeing his punching bag retaliating so brazenly, Karrul bites back a snarl, before indicating one of the girls, a nasty, conniving little snake called Seffrin, who sniggers darkly and loops back on herself, coming at Mor in a rush of black-feathered wings and sharp nails.

Mor simply grabs Seffrin’s outstretched claws and flings her further back, the enraged girl hissing and spitting like a demon, as she crashes through a cloudbank and impacts the two brothers with a meaty thud.

Karrul’s aggravation grows at seeing another member of his band subjected to such a humiliation. Oh, he’ll settle this. He’ll make sure Flightless never bothers him again!

 

Snapping at one of his remaining cronies, Karrul grabs the glowing red crystal out of the boy’s hands and pulls a fine hunting knife from his belt, elegantly spiralling back to skate through the air, hovering above Mor with enough distance between them that she can’t reach him without making several easy-to-punish movements

Raising the knife, Karrul brings it down, stabbing the point into the heart of the red crystal. A hiss erupts from it and he drops it, watching with malicious, murderous delight, as it impacts one of Flightless’s wings, exploding into a huge gout of flame.

As he cackles, it suddenly dawns on Karrul that Mor’s not screaming. Not… falling. In fact, her wings seems to be drinking in the flames, enshrouding themselves with the raging fire. Then… her speed increases exponentially!

As Mor feels the warmth of her phoenix-feather wings increase slightly, she can see and hear the flames surrounding them. Beating them faster, the clouds around her burn up and blur away, receding into the distance as she overtakes the crowd ahead of her in a flash, her body twisting as she spins, like a flaming arrow, taking the lead, and then vanishing ahead.

 

 

(KETTRIN’S P.O.V)

 

The race is still on, and I can feel my own tension mounting. Even opening my Skillforge and crafting a new ability as a distraction hasn’t calmed me in the slightest. There’s no sign of anyone, and with Morrigan out of my sight, I can’t help but feel something bad must have happened to her. If I wasn’t being held back by Dana’s fingers locked with mine, I’d probably do something insane, like go after her and-

A cry comes up from the crowd.

“Someone’s coming! I can’t see who, but they’re on fire!”

I whip my head around, craning to see, but I’m too short. Curses! The one time I actually WANT to be tall, and my avatar’s a cute little shortarse!

 

 

The sound of roaring flames grows closer and closer, and, to my elation, I see Mor, her face set in determination, wings beating furiously, fire coating her wings. She looks like a phoenix in human form as she skids to a halt, her boots scraping over the smooth floor of the plaza, coming to a dead stop right in front of the Heart Crystal. Looking back at the stunned, silent crowd, she reaches out… the first Cloudracer to return… and places a hand on the glimmering crystal. The flames enshrouding her wings flicker, falter, and die out, sputtering softly as she furls them without any sign of even caring that she’s recently been on FIRE.

 While everyone else is too stunned to react, Mor approaches us, hugging us each in turn, as we congratulate her on her win.  The second-place and third-place Skyborne arrive, and now the crowd begins cheering and calling, as if remembering what crowds are supposed to do. Mor moves to the front again, right in front of the headman and her rightfully-won prize.

As she moves forward to claim her bounty, though, the ringleader of that group of bullies arrives, snarling.

“She cheated! She set herself on fire, burned several kids, and beat up three more!”

Mor shrugs. “You shouldn’t have SET me on fire, Karrul. I’m not going to let you push me around anymore. I can fly now, thanks to the people standing there. They helped me, gave me wings, and now I’m lawfully an adult by our own laws. You can’t do anything to stop this!”

 

“You were born without wings, Flightless! You have no right to suddenly be one of us! You should have stayed in the dirt where you belong!”

 

I clench a fist. This Karrul is treading dangerously close to crossing the line.

 

Morrigan accepts her winnings from the nerveless hands of a stunned clerk, marching right past the fuming bully and his gathering posse, and even a few adults who’ve started to openly share the boy’s disdain. One of them even tries to grab Mor, and I move. Releasing Dana’s hand, I beat my wings with all the power I can, intercepting the adult as his be-ringed fingers clank against my pauldron.

“No. Touching.”

 

As the Skyborne man splutters, I note the familial resemblance between him and Karrul. His father, it seems, and the one enabling his douchebag child.

 

Morrigan joins our group, and the others close ranks around her as the atmosphere in the plaza grows mutinous. Those who don’t wish to get involved are doing the smart thing and clearing the area, hurrying home. About three dozen Aerenians remain present, dark looks on each and every face. These are the ones most opposed to what we’ve done for Mor. Without her as a scapegoat, they’ll have to find another easy outlet for their nastiness.

I snap my fingers. “Now, we have two paths open to us. Option one, you all back the FUCK off, go home, and think about how you can live with yourselves now that you have no external target for your shitty attitudes. Or, option two…”

I point to the Heart Crystal. “I’m guessing that big shiny rock keeps this floating archipelago up here. So, if you don’t all piss off, we’re gonna destroy it and send your whole arrogant nation plummeting to the earth below. Hope you can explain to any pissed-off farmer that you didn’t mean to come crashing down on his barn or something!”

 

A brief mutter of mixed caution and outrage runs through the flock of Skyborne, but cooler heads do NOT prevail this time.  Karrul’s daddy snaps, “Get rid of the outsiders, then we can deal with the girl!”

 

I shrug. “Your choice, moron. DEVIL HUNTER, FULL ABOUT! AIM ANTI-AIR WEAPONS!

With a furious whinnying noise from Ginger, I hear the whine of my airship’s Revolfins swinging about to bring the harpoon-launchers to bear. Ulged draws out his ‘diabolical Pokéballs’ and tosses one to Trinity. The pair activates them, and a Behemoth spawns in from each, the vehicles apparently stored within. Trinity hops in the standard model, while Ulged mounts up in a massive, six-legged one with a pair of CANNONS mounted on the chassis’ upper back.

Harvenhaight cuts his palm on the edge of a razor-sharp blade sticking out of his armour, and, as he scatters the crimson drops, the ground beneath starts tearing upwards as a monstrous amalgam of bones and dark energy rips itself free of its earthen tomb.

 Trinity and Ulged aim their weapons at the Heart Crystal, and Asteria commands Naberius, her Quetzalcoatl familiar, to enlarge, the winged serpent uncoiling from her throat and suddenly expanding to about twenty metres long, hovering protectively over us.

As Karrul realises he might have instigated a losing battle, I lash out with a hand, casting my new ability. “Chains of Judgement!”

Glowing golden chains snap forth, binding the arrogant little turd’s wings, arms, and legs, cinching tight, as I yank him over onto his side, dragging him easily towards me as I take off, hoisting him into the air, my fist gripping onto the chains tight as he squirms and shrieks. “Time to hang, asshole!”