"Fuck me," Liron breathed, his voice a whisper to the clouds they passed. "I can't believe it."
Angin grinned like a fool. "I know. I didn't want to ruin the surprise for you."
"H… how is this possible, Angin? They…"
Liron looked around, seeing the Janloons for the first time. Ravenspawns. Each one of them was a Ravenspawn.
Angin grabbed Liron by the shoulders. "We are not alone, Liron. We are not alone."
Angin had guided them out of the hostel they were housed in. The Janloo Company was the product of four grander islands, each fulfilling a set purpose. Angin and Liron were on the last one, meant to keep the passengers and offer them all they could need. They stepped out on the streets, a small city awaiting them.
As with their rooms, the houses had a similar slick design. A rejection of the pump of the Empire. The green roofs were spiky, scratching the sky. Lanterns crafted from paper hung everywhere, some floating in the air, attached to kites. None of them burned with light, but through some windows, Liron saw a few that burned. Unlike the Empire, they produced no light blue or violet glow, creating the strong burn of a fire. Even far away, Liron squinted his eyes, unused to such brightness.
The city was kept in perfect condition. A considerable feat as nature played no secondary role. Trees wherever Lion looked, growing into the houses, fusing with each building. Solia's children were embraced with open arms, their roots interwoven with all structures. Such a symbiosis should be a picture of ruin, nature reclaiming what was once taken. But here, human creation coexisted with the environment, both benefiting from the other.
The Janloons didn't just welcome the plant life. Butterflies as large as Liron's head flew around, dancing through the trees. Their wings mimicked the eyes of a wolf and other predators. Their only defense against the ones hunting them. But high in the sky, no one pursued them for their life. They only admired the beauty. Beside them, squirrels sat on branches, watching the streets and the ones walking them. They were smaller than the ones Liron knew. Squirrels in Lichtwald were equipped with gliding skin growths between their arms and legs, as well as sharp teeth. These ones were just furry, no care in their heads.
One animal that caught Liron off guard was a lanky creature, climbing the branches with its long arms and legs. Its feet were another pair of hands, allowing it to maneuver with ease, finding a strong hold on the trees. Its faces was red intermixed with stripes that changed colors. Its features had a human similarity, a spark even the smartest beasts lacked. It sneaked up to a squirrel, pocking it in the side, scaring the little guy. The creature laughed, the colors in its face intensifying. It clapped its hands, jumping around on its legs. As it moved around, Liron struggled to comprehend its next motion, finding no pattern behind it.
"Those are Jestermonkeys," Angin had explained. "Better keep your distance. They are harmless, but they have that name for a reason. Mischievous little fucks."
The beauty of the city took Liron's breath away, but seeing the Janloons got him better. The streets, crafted out of stone plates hammered into the soil, were occupied by all folks from the Empire, but the Janloons stood out with their black silk hair. Where Liron's black hair was chaotic and weavy, an untamed beast, theirs was as smooth as a river. Both men and women kept them long, bond into beautiful buns, too complicated for his hands to bind. They adorned them with twigs or flowers, breathing life into their hair. Only Angin's hair outmatched them, his volume and grooming surpassing their artistry.
Despite them being Ravenspawns, none of them were ashamed of it, wearing their sin openly. Liron rubbed his eyes, unsure whether he saw clearly. The Janloons wore garments having a similar flowing beauty to their hair. Long silks, combing white, silver and green. The edges were dragged through the soil all around, but they all did no care.
Beyond their hair, their eyes caught Liron's attention, too. They were sharper and keener, all having a golden iris. None followed Liron, taking disdain in his existence. He was just another person. One of many. Strange.
"Angin," Liron said. "What's the matter with their jaws? What's this… ink? Did they paint themselves?"
All Janloons had strange patterns brushed onto their jaws. They resemble the ones their saviors had stitched onto their uniforms. The ones on their cheeks nestled themselves onto their features, a supporting piece. But the ones on their lips, painting two sections black instead of red, were thicker and more pronounced, directing the attention towards them. They reached down to their chin and down their neck. An interplay of symbols, kissing the eye of whoever saw them. Nature's calming whisper given form, immortalized onto their skin.
"That's a tattoo," Angin said. "Think of it like a painting etched into a body. They can't be washed away. They will stay with until your body rots."
"It stays forever?" Liron asked. What a bizarre thing. "But… why?"
"Well, first, it beautiful. That one is obvious. Second, they have a more profound meaning to it. Something you want to show and carry on your skin. With the Janloons, their tattoos signal their stations, and duty inside the Company. Every Janloon works for the Flying Islands. The tattoos on the cheeks show their family and ancestry. The ones on their lips, chin, and neck are their accomplishments. They grow the more they have contributed to the Company or the more they have achieved. So, should you meet a Janloon whose entire neck is painted, you better kiss the dirt they have walked on. They're the real deal. But now, come. There is a lot to show you."
Angin's darker thoughts vanished, and his youthful edge reappeared. The one that only emerged when he could teach Liron something, show him what secrets and horizons Ekon had to offer.
"The Grand Janloo Company is one of the great wonders of Ekon," Angin said, guiding them through the city, knowing each corner with certainty. "You probably don't know what company means, right? Yeah, no problem. There aren't any left outside Janloo. They are… merchants free of direct control by a state.
"Janloo trades with all who want. They friends to all, with the sole exception of Qyroal. The Janloons are the friendlist folks you will find on Ekon, always keen to meet new people and understand their culture and language. Thought, there shouldn't be any left learn."
As they walked through the city, several Janloons stopped greeting Angin like an old friend. They spoke fluent Nord, the faintest hint of an accent. "You must be Liron," they all asked, a kind smile on their lips. "It is an honor meeting you. You are… rather interesting. I would love to talk to you, but it seems you are occupied."
Angin laughed each time, seeing a well-acquainted face, and chatted with them. "Every Janloon works for the Company," Angin continued. "They all serve a distinct purpose so the Flying Islands can continue their operations. They have perfected their processes over the centuries. When you see them work, you could think them to be more Machina than people. They will always treat you with respect as long as you return the favor. But before we continue, Liron, I want you to take a deep breath."
Liron did as he was commanded. "Fuck me… this is great. Feels like taking a breathe while bein' in a forest."
Angin nodded. "Because we are high up, the air would be too thin for humans to operate. To combat this, the Janloons have mastered the art of cultivating plant life. Trees, you see, produce air. Usually, they wouldn't survive this high up, but the Janloons are masters of Alchemy. They have altered the soil to ensure the plants can withstand the harsh conditions, breathing life to the Flying Islands. If you were a farmer, you would know this soil to be something special by the touch alone. The result is that Janloo has the freshest air you will find. It's too good, in fact. Many Janloons struggle coming down for a longer period of time because the air down there is so shit compared to here.
"The Janloons once belonged to a dynasty called Shira. A dynasty is like an empire only smaller. Most of their people died during the Silver Moon's arrival. The Janloo Company, a large merchant family at the time, saved as many as they could with the help of foreign Alchemists who had visited the dynasty to establish trade routes. Only through working together did they survive, making the islands, once part of the isle state, fly into the sky for safety. That's why the Janloons are so open minded and focused on cooperation and help. The Janloo family took over and declared all of their people now to be part of the Company."
Angin's expression sombered. "While they flourish, there aren't too many Janloons left. Half the population of Kupferrang if at all. The vast majority live and work on the Flying Islands, but they often have representative in each larger trading post, ensuring to have one of their own to help make the docking process and trade proceed as smoothly as possible. Should the Flying Islands fall, their people would become extinct."
"Was… was there one of Janloons in Kupferrang."
Angin hesitated. "Yes. We didn't contact him, as this could have caught Adenius' or one of our pursuer's attention. Don't… don't think about it, Liron."
He wanted to, but he failed. They strolled through the city, silent. The branches casted shadows down like arms of the deceased, following their every step. "Shouldn't…" Liron said, "shouldn't there be a lot of wind? I mean, we are flyin' through the sky, right? In my dream, I was one the back of Illaxia a few times. Half a storm slapped me the entire time."
Angin flicked at him. "Good, Liron, very good. An excellent question. Yes, their should harsh gushes all around, freezing us to our bones. The Janloons had reconstructed their surroundings, creating greater natural walls of stone to shield them from the worst of it. Like smaller mountains. They only fly into one direction, so the harshest winds would come from the front. But this wouldn't be enough. Here, let me show you."
They exited the city. Fields of green surrounded the settlement, growing grains and fruits. Patches of forests offered nature a place untouched by human hand. Liron could barely believe his own eyes. The magnificence of this place was beyond his wildest imagination. Kupferrang had beaten him down with its sheer size. Janloo, or what he had seen of it, offered the soul a place to rest, using its grandeur to alleviate the ones seeing it instead of beating them down as the Empire liked to do.
They strolled through fields of gold, taking their time. Who could rush through such a sight. Liron stopped a few times, taking in the place. Angin knew of its effect, giving his student all the time he needed. With a relaxed step, they made it to the island's edge. As Angin had told him, a mountain tip stretched high, blocking the island from the wind. But as they reached the rims, he saw a net crafted from thin strings, reminding him of Trisa's Conduit. The net forms a dome around the islands, radiating with a strange energy.
"Don't ask me how it works," Angin said. "Like I said, unlike your maddening Magic, Alchemy is the art of knowing. It relies on understanding, combing, and releasing energy. As everybody else, Janloo is in great demand of Silvered Gold. They use it to fuel their fences. That's what they call it. No Janloon has ever explained it to me, as they like to keep their secrets. They utilize the energy from the Silvered Gold to keep the wind at bay… somehow."
Angin sighed. "There is no worse fate than not knowing, Liron. Once something escapes your grasp, it becomes a thing of wonder, yes, but also chaos. Veiled in black, you can't see its inside and thus not know how it works. And if you don't know how it works, you can't predict its behavior. I hate not knowing, Liron. It's the cruelest fate. You are at the whims of the horizon, and you have nothing else to do than hope amd prey to survive the storm. To gain control, Liron, is to know. And to know, is to gain control back from this wicked life."
He cleared his throat. "Well, no fucking clue it works. Truth be told, I don't really care either."
Liron eyes his master. "You are a strange man, Angin."
"Better strange than boring, I'd say."
The island's edge was walled in by a wooden fence sharing the same style as the rest. Liron ran his hand over it, feeling the quality of the work. Not even a child could press themselves through the gaps in the fence.
Angin followed Liron's eyes. "Should you for some reason climb the fence and fall off, don't worry. There are nets attached to the Islands. And should you make it past them, the manta rays would catch you."
"Manta what?"
"You will see. They are on the look out, but they aren't flying yet. They are lazy bunch. We will got to them, don't you worry. I think you will love them. But first, look, Liron."
Angin pointed towards the other islands. Beside the one they were standing on, three islands of a similar magnitude flew nearby, all interconnected through a complete network of bridges. Around them, tinier islands accompanied them, carried by massive kites or the Great Machinas Liron had seen when they were rescued. These smaller ones had nothing but single houses or trees.
"Janloo consists of four main islands and these few minor ones all around," Angin said. "Each of the main ones have a set purpose. We are on Sira-Do. All passengers and many Janloons live here. It's supposed to offer housing and a general retrieve. Opposite of us is Yuan. This is where they keep all their goods meant for trading and for themselves. There is Shiwa. It's where their military train."
"They fight?"
"Well… not really. No one would dare attack Janloo, as they all benefit from them. All except for the Qyoral, but the Janloons make sure to avoid them att all cost. Despite that, it would be stupid to have no way to defend themselves. But their defense force isn't what I would call… lethal. They mostly focus on forcing their enemy to retreat. After all, killing is the end to all negotations, and the Janloons focus on trade and diplomacy. Should two powers or factions need a middle man, they will always choose a Janloon.
"And up there is the head of Janloo, Shira. Named after their lost dynasty. This is where they coordinate this beast of an operation."
Liron marveled at the titans. They all looked the same as they were too far away to make out any details, cities and large areas of nature surrounding them. The Flying Islands were a paradise that had escaped the inferno that raged below them. It would be like Harras' promised land if not for one thing.
"Ehr… Angin. Is it normal that I feel a bit sick?"
Angin laughed. "Yes. Yes, it is. You also feel a bit weak on your legs, right? Yeah, I felt the same when I traveled with them for the first time. It's the constant motion of the islands. The ground is constantly shifting. It is similar to a boot being rocked by the waves. You will get used to it. Another thing that Janloons struggle with. Once they have to go down onto Ekon, they will be off-balance as they are not accustomed to a still ground.
The Alchemist watched the sky, noticing something. "Hah, finally. Come with me, Liron. We will visit Shira and then go to Yuan."
"Why? What's happening?"
"The Grand Janloo Company is a Company, Liron. They will visit all larger cities in Lorsos before heading towards Sannara. We will be with them for a week. But I don't any longer. We will watch how they do trade. There's nothing like it, Liron, that I swear you."