D E • P R O F U N D I S
Searing 37, 122 Age of Steel
Somewhere above the eastern border of the Imperium
Somewhere above the eastern border of the Imperium
Life moved with a rhythm of its own aboard ship - be it on the waves or on the clouds. For his part, Anton's day had settled into a simple schedule relatively quickly. Mornings spent chaperoning his younger siblings, afternoons practicing under Vanessa's tutelage, and evenings sequestered with his mother. This last was considered to be particularly dire for some aboard ship, as parent and child could be overheard discussing such dread topics as the tax code and incorporation of charitable foundations.
Without fail however, no matter what had occurred in the day, each night found him leaning out over the taffrail, staring at distant Zaichaer. The rift had been visible when the voyage had first begun, a scar in the sky that could not be ignored no matter how one may wish to ignore it. Distance and time proved the only salves, the wound in the world first reducing to no more than a purple smear among the clouds before vanishing entirely by the second day.
Their course had been jagged at first, a run south to the estate where Anton had first evacuated his family. A tense council had followed that consumed most of the day, before it was agreed that Maria Theresa and her children would head to the Imperium to try and mobilize what of her family's resources could be brought to bear to stabilize the situation. Sigismund's wife and children would remain in the Zaichaeri countryside, along with the bulk of house guards and any rescued from the city who did not wish to abandon the Fatherland.
Moving at first light one day after the Doom, the Every Waking Moment made its first port of call before noon at Haqs. The city was already filled with refugees who had made the trek by one means or another, its skydock and train station both cramped with those who had the fortune to escape Zaichaer by mechanized means. Many who wished to leave Zaichaer behind altogether but refused to quit Karnor and risk their fortunes in the Imperium left then and there, with the rest hanging on only long enough for the airship to arrive at Satesoria.
The City of Stone was less flooded by the desperate due to distance and difficulty, laying as it did on the other side of the mountains, and many considered themselves savvy for picking it as their refuge. At both stops, Anton and his mother left letters for Franz and Sigismund, identical to ones that couriers were already riding north to deliver to the brother generals. It was with some irony that he considered the fact that his father and uncle were far safer for being at war than if they had been in their own homes.
At last however, Karnor itself had to be left behind, and the airship made for open water in the bay between Dalquia and the Ashlands, threading the needle between spend as little time in foreign territory as possible. Skirting the no man's land separating the Dratori homeland and the Imperium, at last the haggard survivors saw it. Their first Gelerian banner. It flew from a minor fort, an outpost to guard against any sudden attack from across the border, but it was proof that they had finally arrived.
For the first time in nearly a week, Anton smiled, the scion already barking out the long expected order to switch the colors. Leaving Zaichaer behind, the Every Waking Moment had, at his insistence, flown the ensign of Zaichaer and the Michaelis family banner. Now, both were run down the topmast, replaced by the glimmering green and gold of Maria Theresa's line as they entered the Motherland.
"We actually made it," Anton breathed out to no one in particular, hoping beyond hope that he and the motley band who had followed him so far west might find peace after losing all they had ever known.
