A D • U R B E
Searing 41, 122 Age of Steel
It was terribly late at night when the passengers and crew of the Every Waking Moment first caught sight of Gel'Grandal. Most had hailed from Zaichaer, and were no strangers to a city that still shone at night, but so bright was the Imperial capitol that some thought that it had caught fire. A false dawn rose in the west as they approached, gleaming spires and expansive roads all lit by their own internal magnificence. To the southeast rose what appeared as a pillar of flame, tarnishing the night. More experienced mariners cursed under their breaths as they tore their eyes from the ground to the sky as they realized that the stars could not be seen.
The true dawn followed in its appointed course, at its appointed hour, not long after, silhouetting the ship as she bore her desperate cargo at last to their destination. Even at this early hour, Eisenstadt was filled with traffic and a magitek radio crackled to life in their embossed wood panels to guide them onward. For foreign ships they maintained a system of lights and flags, but the Imperium recognized her own and wasted no time on such archaic things for so stately a ship. Fortunately, they had been noticed well ahead of their arrival, and Anton's grandfather had wasted no time. The Every Waking Moment was directed to its berth in short order, the flight controller informing them that a welcoming party was already assembling.
Anton rushed to the larboard rail with his siblings swift behind him as they at last came in for a landing, his mother remaining serene on center of the quarterdeck. Staring to the south, the Michaelis trio openly gawked at the immensity of the Palace of Spires, raising high as if to challenge the gods themselves. Standing behind them, the family matriarch could not help but smile at the sight, the first she had seen of it since boarding a similar airship to be wed to her husband over twenty years ago.
If all went well, Anton and his household would be safe and secure with their relative's before the day was out - along with everyone he chose to vouch for. Many of those who had come this far were strangers to him, and while he hoped for the best, he was uncertain how generous he could - or should - be. Ideally the Imperium, having heard of the calamity in Zaichaer, would welcome them as refugees, but such was uncertain.
