Five days later...
The ray of light that had pierced the storm back in Aethelos, bringing Finn a sense of hope, felt like a distant mory now. All that took up his mind was the view that lay before him — the bright glare of the midday sun reflecting off the endless ocean like a mirror.
Finn shifted stiffly on the leathery back of the wyvern, trying to relieve his muscles that ached in a way that wasn’t unfamiliar to him. Over the course of the last week, he had beco accustod to the discomfort till the point where he could ignore it for hours on end.
But perhaps because the end goal was within sight, the discomfort returned to the fore of his mind again as his body knew reprieve was near.
He narrowed his eyes against the glaring sun, looking down at the endless expanse of deep azure water that had replaced the rolling forests and mountain ranges of Aethelos.
Five days.
It had taken them five full days to cross the continent and reach the western charter border.
Logically, Finn knew a soul mass of this caliber — a fully grown wyvern owned by a Preceptor-ranked Ossuarist, who Finn still couldn’t grasp the full scope of his strength — should have been able to tear across the sky and cover the distance in two days, perhaps even less.
But looking back at the journey, Finn realized with a complicated mix of gratitude and embarrassnt that he and Althea were the ones who dragged down their speed.
In fact, the Preceptor hadn’t just slowed down to accommodate them, he had fundantally altered the route they followed entirely.
Instead of going the direct way of traveling in a straight line, high up through the frigid-cold, thin-air zones of the upper atmosphere, Preceptor Elias had kept them at a breathable altitude.
Instead of flying through the night to save ti, he had landed every evening in secluded, unpopulated forests, ensuring they had hot food and rest.
He had taken long, wide arcs around cities and populated areas, adding hundreds of kiloters to their trip just to ensure they weren’t spotted by local nobles.
It was a silent, unacknowledged consideration just for them. The old man never asked if they were tired, nor did he explain why he was landing, he just did it without any talk.
"Prepare yourselves," the Preceptor’s voice suddenly snapped Finn out of his thoughts. "We are entering into the neutral islands."
Finn looked forward, staring wide-eyed past Althea’s purple hair that blew wildly in the wind, and felt his breath hitch.
The horizon, which had been nothing but water and sky for the last few hours, was suddenly interrupted by dots in the distance. Ships upon ships upon ships dotted the ocean out of nowhere, shuttling back and forth across the open waters in a straight line that clearly showed the shipping lanes they followed.
It cut across the entire horizon like a trail of ants over the glassy ocean, leading up to their destination. The large mass of land that rose out of the ocean...
Xanth.
Finn had expected a fortress of so sort, or perhaps a military outpost at least, given the tension of their mission. So he was utterly unprepared for the sheer, aggressive opulence that assaulted his eyes.
The island that lay before him was an architectural marvel of white and gold. Hundreds of tall structures towered into the sky at the center of the island, with dod roofs made from gold and bronze that caught the sunlight so intensely it was hard to look at them directly.
But the buildings weren’t the only thing that caught Finn’s eyes. In the sky above the island, dozens — No. Hundreds — of flying beasts drifted around the island’s airspace. Different kinds of species, from birds to wyverns, to griffins, and even a few dragonlings, all of different sizes, large and small, filled the sky with their different colors.
"It’s... imnse," Althea whispered with a voice that barely carried over the wind, but Finn still heard her.
He nodded dumbly. Compared to the ’bustle’ and the ’opulence’ that Finn had seen in the small Eastern city of Aethelos where he was raised, or even the few larger cities he had been to in his life on Aethelos as a noble-born, this... was just sothing else entirely.
Finn could go as far as to say no city in Aethelos was as extravagant as this. In fact, this island city before him would rival any tropolis on earth, be it New York or even Tokyo.
In the first place, the styles of the cities were totally different. While the major cities on earth struck one with an aweso sense of technological scale, it kind of lacked character in other areas.
This island city on the other hand, was like a blend of an Eastern-European architecture with an Arabian extravagance, and a tinge of Japanese-esque beauty of colorful trees Finn could see in select areas.
"This is Xanth, the trade capital of the world," Preceptor Elias explained without turning back. He angled his floating sword downward, leading the wyvern, which followed behind, into a slow descent. "It is one of the few places in the world where the laws of Kings and Queens hold no sway. Only the weight of coin matters here."
As they descended, the previous silence of the high altitude suddenly shattered. The roar and chatter of the city hit Finn like a physical wave imdiately. The cacophony of thousands of voices, the ringing of bells, the cries of magical beasts, and the crash of the ocean waves against the colossal sea walls that bordered select areas of the island.
They banked sharply past a massive, docile-looking magical beast that had a ton of cargo strapped to its back like so form of cargo-hauler. They were so close enough that Finn could see the very few crew — escort personnels — on the creature’s back, looking up at them.
And surprisingly, contrary to the fear Finn expected a wyvern to inspire, especially because it was evidently and unmistakably a soul mass, with its shadowy scales and wispy-edged body, the crew rely pointed and gestured at them with casual interest.
Here, in the center of the world’s trade, even a shadow creature was just sothing anyone could see on another Tuesday.
"We will not be docking at the public ports," Preceptor Elias stated, guiding them toward a private, high-security landing spire near the upper district. "Keep your heads up. Act as if you belong. In Xanth, face is the only thing that matters."
Finn straightened his back imdiately at the Preceptor’s words, schooling his face into a mask of calm as they descended into the heart of the Golden City.
Putting up a facade was not a new thing to him anyway. Besides the fact he was raised a noble, in his short ti as an Ossuarist he had also developed a knack for putting up false fronts.
But while that part was easy, Finn did not fool himself into thinking that was all that was required. Preceptor Elias, despite knowing of Finn’s noble background, and Althea’s also-prestigious background — at least within the Ossuarist world — had repeatedly told them to brace up.
That fact was proven further, when, as they finally descended into a landing port on the high-security landing pier, taking in the surroundings, Finn could already see the first test of their ttle incoming...
The landing spire itself was less a dock and more like an extravagant plaza with a polished white marble floor, and a ’VVIP’ ambience. The fact that it was suspended hundreds of ters above the city went further to solidify that feeling in Finn’s mind.
As the wyvern carrying them touched down, following right behind the Preceptor who had just descended with his floating sword, Finn noticed they weren’t the only ones arriving.
Further down the expansive platform, a large, flat tallic disk that also seed to be a high-grade levitation artifact just like the Preceptor’s floating sword, was hovering silently a few feet off the ground.
To the right, a colossal, four-winged Griffin, burdened with expensive leather saddlebags, was being attended to by valets dressed in uniforms that looked like they cost more than Finn’s most expensive get-up back in Aethelos.
Preceptor Elias stepped off his floating sword, touching the ground with steps so silent, nothing was heard at all. With a casual wave of his hand, both the floating sword, and the massive shadow wyvern that carried Finn and Althea dissolved instantly, swirling back into his shadow in the blink of an eye.
Finn and Althea, who were already prepared, had hopped down before the Preceptor recalled his wyvern. They landed easily and smoothly with grace, taking the first step to cent their image as unflappable, nonchalant Ossuarists. Finn imdiately adjusted his collar, slowly scanning the surroundings with a calm gaze as the ’first-test-of-ttle’ he had spotted earlier approached them...
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