I. An Air of Danger
Ostkompanie trading outpost wasn't really a picture of a bustling settlement filled with opportunities and excitement. O.K.'s office and a warehouse with the airships' mooring tower were the nominal centre of the outpost, even if they stood in actuality on a side of it. Actual centre of any activities was a marketplace. It needs to be said that most of the Kompanie's trading was done in the office - but those were the quiet deals, where large shipments of goods were exchanged for large sums of money. They had a certain level of dignity to them. Nobody was telling to promote their goods, nobody was begging to lower the cost by the few copper coins at least, nobody was walking past the stalls, eyeing goods they couldn't afford.
Those things were a plenty in the town's market, where buyers were mostly airships' crewmen and the sellers were mostly locals: when you come to such outpost to exchange, say, tea for, say, rifles, and you just happened, purely by accident, hunt down an animal or two on your way here - it is only reasonable to sell any extra meat or guts or skins to the local butcher who then turns it into dried or salted meat and sausages and all other, more delicious foods to sell to the himmelmann who just came aground after a long journey on an airship.
What also seems only reasonable is that there would be a local butcher to sell the meat to. And that this master of all things meaty and delicious would live somewhere close enough to the place they could sell their products. In the same way there should be a place where they could spend the money they get from the airships' crew and Kompanie's officials - because surprisingly those have to eat too and can't survive only on blood and sorrow of their subordinates.
For these above reasons several rows of buildings popped up surrounding the marketplace - but trying to keep away from the Kompanie's offices and especially the mooring tower, for airships are big and scary, even if officials tell you they're totally safe. These were all kinds of buildings, from personal homes to a big multi-storied Inn that provided the local population and travellers with all services they might need, but mostly cheap food, drinks and a place to stay for the night. It might've been relatively expensive, but still better than the Kompanie's barracks - and every himmelmann worth their clouds did their best to avoid staying in the cramped space and not exactly the cleanest free beds Kompanie provided. And of course for the officers staying in a more comfortable room at a local inn was a question of honor, principle, better food and receiving much higher pay than a common himmelmann.
Though the additional comfort was somewhat balanced out by adding a slight possibility of the events rather impossible inside the Ostkompanie buildings. And we are speaking of the events such as what was happening at this right moment to the airship captain Uwe Hanneman in his room.
Captain was rather busy doing routine inspection on his gun – a beautifully engraved revolver, a badge of both the rank and captain’s pride. There wasn’t a reason to clean it so often, really, but it was Hanneman’s habit to check it every morning to make sure there was nothing to clean and that the mechanism is working as it should.
Sadly, it wasn’t loaded, when the door to Hanneman’s room was kicked open by a man armed with a long dagger. Two more men stood behind him with their hands on the handles of swords that were hanging from their belts.
Captain rose up from the chair he was sitting on and tried to hit the invader using the revolver as a club, but the man caught Hanneman’s arm mid-strike and threatened him with the dagger. Soon the captain was disarmed and pushed back onto his bed that creaked loudly in protest when Hanneman landed on it.
Even the simplest of humans by now would realize where this sequence of events was leading to. Captain Hanneman wasn’t simple. He briefly considered trying to escape through the window – somewhat too high above the ground, but it still left him with some chances, – but the man with a dagger, still keeping the captain at the point, quickly stood between him and the window, blocking that way of escape.
The attackers haven’t said anything yet, but the captain quickly ran through everything in his possession that was worth stealing. It wasn’t much, but by the frontier’s standards it still could be enough to warrant all the trouble of robbing one of the Ostkompanie’s men. Of course, O.K.’s own troops would then comb the town – especially if something really bad, like that dagger cutting the captain's throat, would happen, – after all, Kompanie didn’t like losing well-trained men unnecessarily. And, as much as it added an air of danger to the job, such things as airship captains being killed didn’t make for a good advertisement.
So, the O.K. will do their best to find these people after they would be done with Hanneman.
There was only one thing the captain didn’t like about that sentence. The part, where he’d be done with before the Kompanie does anything.
But what could he do?
II. An Air of Leisure
No matter how the captain looked at the situation he was in, it seemed like the situation he'd rather not be in. Any course of action he could think of, inevitably led to him lying on the floor with the dagger sticking out of various parts of his body.
Man with the dagger growled and raised his hand for a strike, when, unseen by the captain at this moment, a wooden ladle connected with the head of one of the intruders who was standing in the door frame of the captain's room. Ladle hit the side of the head, energy transferred, the other side of the head hit the doorframe - and the man fell down, making enough noise for the other invaders and Hanneman to notice.
They turned their heads to the sound - only to see another man walk into the room, stepping over the body on the floor.
That man didn’t look anything spectacular – definitely not a dashing hero, rushing to the captain’s aid. His deep black hair was long and unkempt – even if he tried to gather it into a ponytail, it still managed to escape and look messy in a rather remarkable show of character or what passes as a character for the hair. Garb he was wearing was dark and clearly needed washing and possibly some repairs. But even facing the situation where he ran the danger of being cut, stabbed or otherwise injured he still moved with an air of leisure, like he was walking in the garden admiring some exceptionally beautiful flowers. He didn't have a sword or a dagger - or any other weapon - neither in his hands, nor anywhere on his body. All that he had was a wooden ladle.
Another of the men attacking the captain began to draw his sword…
...Man flipped the ladle handle first in his hand and lodged it deep into the thug's eye, making him go down on the floor as well.
Third of the invaders left the captain unattended, probably realising that the newcomer posed much greater threat - and now he just lost his ladle, stuck inside the dead man's skull.
Turning his back to Hanneman was a mistake though because at that moment the captain finally found a course of action, jumped up off the bed, grabbed the chair and swung it at the man's head from behind. That was enough to bring him down, joining his accomplices on the floor.
"Should I thank you?" said Hanneman, looking at his possible saviour and pointing at him the now-weaponized chair. "Or would you like to continue what these guys started?"
"A 'thank you' would be a good start…" the man replied with the noticeable Feenreich accent. "But I think you might want to tie up the one that you've hit. Or hit him a couple more times if you'd want."
"Huh…" the captain lowered the chair and looked around for something resembling a rope. "Would you please call the owner of this excessively fine establishment here…? I have some complaints to make."
"Excessively fine…" the man smiled. "I hope I could find him… or someone who's in charge of this place at least."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome" the man turned around to leave, then added: "It's a good start."
III. An Air of Unease
"Who's that guy?" Friedrich asked, looking at the man in the Feenreich clothing, following their captain to the mooring tower where their ship, Aenne, was docked.
"Who knows…" Karl, one of the airship's engineers, answered. "Looks like our captain found a new friend, that's all we know."
"Is that so…"
"Well, he certainly doesn't explain himself to me" Karl grimaced. "You may try approaching him directly. I can see his answer: 'Himmelmann Schnitke, it is none of your business, assume your post, dismissed.'"
"That's why I'm asking you."
"And I don't know shit, Friedrich. Same as you."
"Still it's unusual to take passengers…"
"Yeah, like we're a cruise liner now" Karl let out a short burst of laughter. "Very shitty one though."
"Like you'd be posted on anything else" another engineer, Schultz, pointed at Karl with a wrench. "Did they give you the parts?"
"They did. But no spares, so we have to manage the whole flight without repairs somehow."
"You're gonna love that engine, Karl" Schultz smiled. "You're gonna love it so much, the love will carry us home."
"Yeah, right" Karl space out. "With one man extra… He's not that big of a guy, but still it's more weight."
"Who is he anyway…" Friedrich repeated his question again, this time mostly to himself.
"Haven't you heard?" Schultz looked at him. "Whole town buzzes about how he beat several armed men to death with his bare hands defending the captain."
"Someone defending our captain… he must be insane."
"Or just really wanted to get on board… I guess" Schultz shrugged.
"So, insane" Karl shrugged in response. “I wonder where he’s going to stay on board. Or do you guys think they got so friendly with the captain, they’re going to share the quarters too?”
“He’ll get your bed, probably, Karl” Schultz snickered.
“And why is that?”
“You’ll be spending all your time loving that engine anyway…”
“Now that’s a Taubenscheiße” Karl spat in Schultz’s general direction, missing his boot just by a few millimetres.
“Say again?” Schultz raised a wrench at Karl’s face.
“Guys, calm down…” Friedrich intervened.
“Oh, don’t worry, Schnitke, I’m not going to bother smashing this stupid face with this extremely helpful tool just now” Schultz lowered his improvised weapon. “I’d rather kick him overboard while we’re in the air later.”
“You’re welcome to try,” Karl grinned.
“What if I do?”
“Who’s gonna keep that engine running then, huh?”
“Fair enough…” Schultz shook his head then smiled. “Fair enough…”
IV. The Clearest Air
And so the crew of the Ostkompanie airship Aenne saw their captain welcoming a stranger on board, which was unusual to say the least. Of course, by that time everyone knew that the stranger had saved the captain's wallet if not his life, but still it was an extremely unusual sign of gratitude. Airships are quite inefficient at transporting cargo at best, so every sacrifice was made to make construction lighter, to save as much weight as possible. From the point of view of the regular himmelmann there simply wasn’t any room available for even one another person. There definitely weren’t any spare beds.
With great surprise they found the stranger had camped on sort of a mattress in the corner of the crew’s mess room. It wasn’t a particularly big space, but he somehow managed to make himself almost unnoticeable. Guys doing the night shift first were getting themselves ready to complain about the addition of snoring to the usual airship sounds, then, after it turned out that stranger slept perfectly quietly, tried to complain about the need to keep talking to a whisper to not wake him up – but as it turned out that wasn’t needed. He just slept through all of it, only to wake up at the same time as the day crew of the airship, roll up his improvised bed and sit down on his favourite spot in front of the window.
The crew got used to his presence rather quickly - apart from the mentioned snoring expectations that turned into a source for some half-hearted laughs and several grunts, regular crewmen didn't mind his presence. He was something new, something unusual, something different - just what was needed to make passing time in-between shifts more bearable. The view out of the mess room's window was exciting to him, but every himmelmann present on the ship had seen enough of plains and mountains and rivers and lakes passing under their airship to make looking down on them sickeningly boring.
"How's the weather today?" asked him one of the crewmen.
"Looks clear," the stranger answered, looking up at the young himmelmann. "You've got your buttons messed up, not sure if you want any of the officers to see you like this."
"Oh, thank you," himmelmann smiled, embarrassed, and went on fiddling with his uniform jacket's buttons. "I'm Friedrich by the way."
"Nice to meet you," the stranger stood up and gave him a bow. "My name is Takezou."
"A…" Friedrich blinked a couple of times as if confused by the stranger's suddenly formal response, then managed to try and return the bow. "Nice to meet you too, mister Takeso… Takezou! I'm sorry…"
"No need to apologize" Takezou sat down on the floor. "You've got it right a second time."
"Still…"
"It is a name in an unfamiliar language, nobody can be expected to get it right on the first try," Takezou smiled. "So no need to apologize, Friedrich".
"So…" Friedrich sad down beside Takezou. "Do you like the view?"
"It's rather new to me," Takezou nodded. "I've never been so high up in the air for so long… and so comfortable."
Friedrich scratched the back of his head then gave Takezou a little smile.
"It sure can be more comfortable then this," he said. "You should try one of the cruise airships."
"Maybe some day I will. But for now I appreciate what I already have." Takezou gave Friedrich a slight bow, leaving himmelmann a bit confused of how to respond. But Takezou clearly didn't expect him to say or do anything because he continued:
"The higher you go, the more you can see, the more the Earth opens itself up to your gaze. But then you go too high and get into the clouds… and then you can see nothing but haze.
"But you go even higher than that…
"There you can see the real wonder. A sun in a clear sky and not a landscape, but a cloudscape beneath your feet."
Friedrich listened to him, then looked at the window.
"I still prefer flying over cities and towns…" he said. "Over a village at least. It's more interesting to watch other people living their lives from above. But we're crossing the Wild Fields now… There's nothing but the wilderness and monsters down there."
"And yes, there are enough monsters living among humans," Friedrich continued. "But there they at least try to hide and not bite your legs off in broad daylight…"
Takezou silently nodded, agreeing with the himmelman.
V. An Air of Friendship
"Here!" Himmelmann Friedrich sat down near Takezou at his usual favourite spot and handed him a plate with whatever the airship's cook managed to cook out of the limited supply they had on board.
"Sorry if it's the same as the last time," Friedrich said as Takezou took the plate from him. "And the time before that…"
"It's okay," the feenraicher smiled. "I'm quite used to eating the same thing every day… just happy that it isn't literally the same thing I have to eat over and over."
Friedrich thought about it for a second but then decided to skip any and all unappetising implications of Takezou's words and ask about something else instead.
"You've never told me - what did you do back home?"
"I lived there."
"But… what did you do for a living?"
"I hunted."
"Oh!" Friedrich's eyea lit up with interest. "What kind of game?"
"The…" Takezou closed his eyes for a moment. "The unusual kind."
"Unusual?"
"As you've told me before: there are enough monsters living where the humans live."
"You… you hunted monsters?"
"You may call them that, yes." Takezou nodded. "Our Immortal Emperess keeps most of them out of our country with her Veil but… no defence is ever perfect. Especially on the fringes, at the borders… things… things get through and need to be dealt with."
"That's true," Friedrich agreed. "But did you do it alone? On your own?"
"Most of the time, yes. The time of glorious imperial hunting parties is long over… Those are only left in the old women's tales. There simply aren't enough monsters left in the Empire of Fay."
"That's… lucky, I guess?" Friedrich canted his head. "I wish we, back in the New World had it that easy."
"You don't?"
"I was sure you've heard about it… Of the people hunting monsters in my country and the neighbouring ones. There are still enough monsters and mages there to keep whole armies of them."
"Armies?" There was a hint of disbelief in Takezou's voice, but Friedrich didn't notice it.
"Like the Hussars from the Commonwealth… you should've seen them ride with the wings attached to their backs with their bright shining lances in hand. Or the Royal Riders in the Kingdom - they aren't as shiny as the Hussars, but they're still worth watching… And then there are the Tunnel Rats of Gildenstaat - no shine there, but I'd say they're the most skilled of them all."
"Because they are your fellow countrymen?" Takezou squinted at the young himmelmann.
"No, because they're mostly simple humans - no magical weapons or amulets or elixirs. And they still aren't afraid to face the worst of this world in the tunnels of Ruhr."
"But you call them 'the Tunnel Rats'," Takezou said. "A vermin. Barely a fitting name for respected warriors."
"That's what they call themselves… And look, only someone who never saw a cornered rat could take that name lightly."
"My apologies…" Takezou lowered his head in a bow. "Though in my experience it's better to not be cornered, to always have a way out."
"You don't get to choose in the tunnels… sometimes there is just nowhere to run."
"There's always somewhere to run. Sometimes it just means running towards the enemy."
Friedrich looked at him a bit confused. He clearly failed to immediately understand if the person he was talking to was joking or not. So Takezou had to give him a clue and smile.
"And how does one," he said after a pause. "Becomes a tunnel rat?"
"Hm…" Friedrich scratched the back of his head. "I don't really know… But our captain should. I think… I think his family has someone in Gildwerh, maybe they can help? You should talk to him either way."
"I see," Takezou nodded. "I'll ask the captain about it then".
VI. The Mountain Air
After several days of flight OKS Aenne had to dock at one of the Ostkompanie fueling stations in the great mountain ridge dividing the Wild Field in halves. The station was even smaller than the outpost they've departed from - just a building with an office and barracks, small warehouse with gas tanks for refueling and a mooring tower. All build high up on a mountain so whatever creatures roaming the Wild Fields would have a harder time reaching it.
Even if the air here was thin and the wind was cold - it still was a great opportunity for the crew to get their feet on the solid ground again.
The head of the station met captain Hanneman in his office, accepted the captain's report and poured two glasses of brandy - one for himself, other for a respected guest.
"So, captain," he said, looking at Hanneman over a glass. "You say your flight here was a rather uneventful one…"
"It was," Hanneman noded.
"I should say: you were extremely lucky."
"Lucky? But it's just a routine flight…"
"Lately the routine flights are becoming a rare thing, herr Hanneman," the station head said. "The creatures are getting restless all over the Wild Fields. Airships get attacked more and more often."
"Is it that bad?" Hanneman looked at him with doubt. "We departed home just about a month ago and we haven't heard anything about any unusual activity…"
"It happened in the last week or so. The last airship to get here from the Federation, OKS Hindenburg, had barely made it to our tower - she was on fire and it's a miracle the crew survived. Since then we've lost at least one more ship…"
The station head paused to take a sip out of his glass. Hanneman followed his example.
"So, herr Hanneman, you really are lucky to make it here," the station head continued. "Hopefully this luck will fly you home. But please make sure to relay this to the Head Office: we need to switch to flying convoys. Or at least arm our ships better. What might scare away a pirate or two won't help against the flock of harpies…"
"Harpies?" Hanneman shook his head. "I sincerely hope you're just trying to scare me…"
"I wish I did, captain. I really wish I did."
"Well then," Hanneman emptied his glass in one gulp and put it on the office desk. "If I am to be ready to risky flight, I need my airship to be in the best condition. We had problems with engines… can we get spares from you?"
"I'm sorry, captain, but you have to fly on what you have." The station head put his empty glass down as well. "We haven't received any supplies from home in a while. Food and water we can get ourselves, barely. But the spare parts? Sadly, you can't hunt them in the wild."
"My engineer won't be happy about that…"
"None of us are, herr Hanneman. None of us are."
VII. Danger in the Air
It happened on the second day after their airship left the mountains. Takezou was at his usual place near the window in the mess hall when he heard rumbling in the shaft leading to the airship's fore lookout post. Somebody was climbing the ladder down so fast, he was nearly falling down.
Of course that somebody was the himmelmann on the lookout duty who instead of shouting whatever he'd spot into the voicetube decided to abandon his post, come down to the ship's gondola and shout it directly into everyone's ears.
"Harpies!" He yelled with an unhealthy dose of panic in his voice. "A whole flock of them! Coming our way! Fast!"
He ran to the airship's bridge and repeated everything he's just said there as well - to make sure the captain had heard him.
Hanneman reacted immediately.
"Rudder, hard to port! We're going back to the station! Engines, after we finish the turn, I need everything! Give me all she's got!"
"That's not much, captain!" Was the reply from the engines room. "If I push it even a bit more, we'll lose the engine!"
"We're not going to make it at this speed, captain." Said Takezou quietly entering the bridge. "Turning back is not an option."
"We don't have any other options!"
"Keep the course, bring us lower to the ground, let me deal with the harpies."
"You? You don't even have a weapon!"
"I always have it, captain," Takezou said, making a motion like he was catching the air in front of him with his hand. Captain silently watched as the air in Takezou's palm flashed with light and coalesced into the curved scythe-like blade on a short handle attached to a chain.
"You…" Captain said. "Ritter? That can do it… Helm! Take us back on previous course. Dive ten… no, fifteen degrees and keep it!"
Takezou bowed and turned to the entrance to shaft leading to the lookout post.
"Herr ritter!" The captain called him. "About that conversation of joining the Gildwehr? Consider it done!"
Takezou nodded and began climbing the ladder.
VIII. The High Air
The sky surrounded him. Clear transparent matter of an air, danced and swayed unseen and colourless at a close distance. It became hazy and blueish further away and molded itself into visibly heavy voluminous clouds far off. It filled the space around him, it was the space itself, it was filled with light.
He made a step forward, against the pressure of air, closer to the airship’s bow and looked forward and up, noticing the black dots in the clear light blue sky – dots that slowly were getting closer and bigger. Dots that looked like they were just impurities, like inclusions in an otherwise perfectly translucent crystal. It was his task to remove them, to rid the sky of them.
A little bit closer.
And a little bit more.
Headwind was strong.
And the dots were no more, they turned into ugly winged creatures, nightmarish carnivores plaguing the perfectly clear sky.
It was his task…
He stretched his hands to the sides and grabbed a weapon out of the air. Brightly shining links fell out of his palms, merging into chains, curving into sharp hooks on their ends.
Creatures were still too far away and too high, but it didn’t matter.
If you can make an inch-long blade, you will be able to make a hundred of them. If you learn to fight someone at a feet’s distance, you will be able to fight them at a thousand feet.
When the difference is only numbers, there’s no difference at all.
He swung his shining chains and flung them, throwing them forward, extending them all the way to where black-greyish feathers polluted the skies.
Both chains hit their targets, burying themselves into the twisted flying bodies, stopping the creatures' wings mid-swing, sending them plummeting down to earth.
There was no time to reel the chains back. Even if the translucent magic they were made of weighed nothing, it still took time to move his arms. So instead of the unnecessary movements he let the chains disappear and recreated them again with a next swing, downing two more creatures. And then two more. And more.
They were much closer now and clearly visible for what they were: a winged crooked parody of a human body, a twisted version of a human's dream of flying, a nightmare given form and flesh.
He looked at them and swung his chains again. Two more creatures fell down to their death.
He smiled - they were doing exactly what he wanted them to do. By picking out the furthest ones on both sides of the flock, he forced them to take note of him and to stay focused on him instead of spreading out and going for the airship from every side.
He just had to keep the creatures occupied for some more…
So he did - throwing his shining chains at the dark figures in the sky, bringing them down one by one as they go closer and closer to where he stood. And as he did it, his chains had to be shorter and shorter each time.
Yet still they were chains and that kind of weapon needs space to be effective. The longer its reach is, the more space it needs. Simple law of battle. A long pike is excellent in the open field but is practically useless in the restraining confines of the castle corridors. Or when the enemy closes in.
Thankfully, the creatures he was fighting at the moment were smart enough to understand it.
"Definitely smarter than some humans I know" he thought, noticing the ugly flock gaining speed in order to close the distance.
The creatures flew as a single unit, as well-trained soldiers on a battlefield, keeping the formation, not dispersing - with some help of the shining chains keeping them closer together of course, but still. The flock was in a sense a singular creature, composed of many.
He looked at them with curiosity as they closed in, rose up and dived down at where he stood: rapidly, without hesitation, as if guided by a single mind. Mind, that had assessed the situation and discerned the best possible way of exploiting the enemy's position. Mind that plotted a strategy to take advantage of the enemy's choice of weapons.
It was a good choice, he agreed.
The choice he wanted them to make.
He dropped the chains, letting the wind blow them away as dwindling specks of vanishing light.
Then crossed his arms in front of himself, grasped the light filling the air in his hands and took two shining swords out of it.
The creatures diving at him noticed, but couldn't do anything, for the speed of the dive was too high. First of them ended up cut in halves by both swords swung in an outwards motion. Second lost the head – its body flung away by a sudden gust of wind – and the third slid off of the airship with only one of its wings still attached to its body and beating relentlessly against the air…
He, who knows only one weapon, knows none.
Swords cut and thrust and swung in precise ways to kill or heavily injure.
There is a place and time for every weapon - the true way is to know them all.
The fight was like a dance, like a battle of musicians, where the goal is to force the opposition to fall into your rhythm. Whoever dictates the rhythm - wins. Whoever makes the enemy dance to their melody - wins. Whoever's melody keeps playing after the dust settles - wins.
And so they danced.
Shining swords cut through the twisted bodies with ease - no matter how many creatures threw themselves into the blades in a pointless attempt to dull them. One after one feathered bodies slid down by the sides of an airship.
The last pair of creatures gave out a panicking screech and turned their back on him, trying to fly off – he threw both swords, plunging them into the creatures’ bodies the moment before the light matter comprising the blades dissolved after leaving its creator’s hands.
The fight was over. His task was completed.
Again, there was nothing but the light-filled clear sky around him.
