The Skyhome Academy

Rose and Emma exited the carriage near a sprawling cobblestone plaza. From the plaza’s many booths, peasant merchants called out to passersby about their wares. Academy cadets—noble, citizen, and serf—wandered about.

At the far, northern end of the plaza was a long and wide stone ramp, which presently led up to nothing. Train tracks passed by this area on the western side. The sky was overcast, showcasing the common cloud covering that had given the Graylands its name.

There were many soldiers present. Some were proper spellcasters, but the rest were armed with wands. A number of the former circled the area on various airborne mounts—pegasi, griffons, hawk-like thunderbirds, and propeller-driven flying machines. All this security struck Rose as sensible, given how many noble children were present.

“Thank you,” Emma said to the driver. The horseless carriage departed, and she looked to Rose. “Shouldn’t the academy arrive soon?”

“There.” Rose briefly pointed to the sky far above the plaza. A massive stone edifice was just starting to dip below the level of the low, thick clouds.

“Amazing. The largest structure ever floated by levitation magic. I’ve read all about the place, but finally seeing it up close like this…”

“There’s hundreds of arrow slits along the bottom and side walls. And that sphere in the middle is a big lamp.”

Emma nodded. “To signal for aid. …⁠Oh, look! The castle gate.”

“I can’t wait to see the Phoenix Maw.”

“A fire cannon with a mile range. It’s scary.”

“We’ll get to see it in action during the monthly tests,” Rose said in anticipation.

The castle would be some time in arriving, so she took in the rest of her surroundings. The plaza was located in the farming valley of Almeric’s Pass. Mountain ranges were visible to the north and south. From the east, two airships were slowly approaching. One was an ordinary blimp bringing cadets from the far reaches of the kingdom. The other was a Middle Kingdom warship with rectangular sails, magical cannons, and elaborate foreign styling along the wooden hull.

The young noble was distracted from her observations when she heard two girlish voices shout simultaneously. “Rose!”

She searched the crowd for the source of the greeting. “Alice! Avice! Hey!” Rose led Emma over to join them.

Alice and Avice Lovell were daughters of a mage whose holding was adjacent to that of Rose’s father. Despite their familial relationship, they did not look too much alike—Alice had a rounder face and dark hair, while her sister was blonde and shorter. Avice was also a year younger. The girls had two handmaidens each, all of whom were content to wait silently while the nobles spoke.

“I haven’t seen you for weeks,” Avice said pleasantly to Rose.

“Sorry. Between combat practice and studying, I’ve been pretty busy.”

“Oh, I am so tired of studying,” Alice complained.

“…⁠The semester hasn’t even started yet,” Rose pointed out dryly. It’s no wonder she failed her entrance exam on her first attempt.

“Have you seen Lord Jame yet?” Avice asked eagerly.

“To think that we get to spend a whole year with him!” her sister added. “It’s like a dream come true.”

“Some kind of dream, anyway,” Rose said, trying to hide her irritation at the thought. Alice had no visible reaction to her comment, while Avice frowned slightly. “But I haven’t seen him.”

Rose paused, trying to think of a less troublesome line of conversation. “So, what classes are you both taking?”

Rather than answer, both girls gasped and walked quickly past her. Their servants followed. She turned around, and saw the reason she had been abandoned. Lord Jame Margas, astride a red- and orange-feathered phoenix, was gliding to a landing near the plaza. Four men on pegasi followed him.

“I might as well get this over with,” Rose muttered to her handmaiden. Emma nodded and followed her toward the new arrival.

They soon approached the gathering of nobles and serfs. Two footmen—the male equivalent of handmaidens—watched over the flying beasts. Personal guards stood on either side of Margas, dressed in standard peasant uniforms. They finished removing his parachute and put it aside. Alice and Avice fawned over the high-ranking noble, while their own servants continued to stand by.

As much as Rose loathed him, she could not deny that Margas had fair features—though in her opinion, his gray eyes were slightly too far apart. His brown hair was cut short, and he held himself stiffly. He wore his white dress uniform—these outfits could only be worn by nobles and foreign cadets. They were made of finer fabric and had additional ornamentation. The arm patches were replaced by metal pips above the heraldic symbol or national flag.

“You look so handsome in your uniform, My Lord,” Alice gushed.

“Heroic, really,” her sister added.

Margas glanced in Rose’s direction. “Lord Jame,” she addressed him. “You’re looking well.”

“Lady Rose.” His expression was indifferent. “I’m relieved to see you dressed properly. I was worried you’d play tomboy and show up in your uniform. …⁠Have you finally outgrown your ridiculous desire to become a mage?”

Rose suppressed her anger. “Not at all. You may not like it, My Lord, but women are allowed to become mages. I’m going to prove your doubts about me wrong.”

He shook his head. “So much for hoping you would come to your senses. Your family is an embarrassment to mine.” Margas suddenly focused on Emma. “To think that you can only afford to bring one servant—and she’s a homely-looking mouse at that.” The handmaiden looked to the ground.

“That was unfair and cruel,” Rose told him, outraged.

“There’s that prideful, disloyal spirit I loathe. Like father, like daughter.”

“My father has never been disloyal!”

“I suppose you consider testifying against your liege to be the height of loyalty?”

“Your father allowed Dawnshire to be sacked when it was retaken. Innocent people died! And a vassal can’t be ordered not to testify about a crime.”

“All traitors deserve what they get. The only crime is that my father was reprimanded at all.”

Emma finally looked up, and it seemed she was about to object. But she must have thought better of it, because she remained silent.

“Do you have something to say, girl?” Margas glared at the handmaiden. “Then speak. I command it.”

“It—it’s just…My Lord…any peasants who refuse to labor for the traitors are executed. They have no choice.”

He scoffed. “They could die with dignity instead of betraying the kingdom.”

“She’s right,” Rose objected. “It’s not the peasants’ job to defeat the rebel army, it’s the military’s! That’s the Crown’s official position—even a baron can’t ignore it.”

Both Alice and Avice now avoided looking in Rose’s direction. Margas narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m bored with this conversation. Leave me.”

“As you wish, My Lord,” she answered venomously. She led Emma back into the plaza.

“Can you believe him?” Rose asked. “How can you even call someone like that human? If you ask me he’s a big, walking sack of crap!”

This drew a slight smile from Emma, but she still looked distraught. “Are you okay?” Rose continued.

“Yes, My Lady.”

“I hope you know that insult of his was nonsense—he was just attacking you to get at me.” Emma nodded.

Rose sighed, and had a look around the plaza. “That warship’s getting close. And there’s more fliers with a carriage coming in from the northeast. …⁠They’re all riding griffons!”

“Prince Robert?”

The young noble nodded excitedly. “Let’s go!”