"Fuck yeah!" Liron bellowed, throwing his hands up.
To reach Yuan in time for the trade, they were allowed to travel with a Janloon. Similar to the kites most Janloons used, this one controlled a flying ball larger than Liron's house in Eisenrahm. It was crafted out of thick layers of fabric, attached to a basket they stood in. A Machina hung above them, releasing the same vibrations as the Great Machinas attached to the bottom of the Flying Islands. Angin had called this thing a balloon. They utilized the same energy his gloves produced, letting the balloon shoot forward nearly as fast as the kites. They flew over Shira, high above the constant chaos. The Flying Islands had begun their descent, reaching down for the city of Buun.
Within minutes, they reached the commercial heart of the Company. Yuan was an island of storage. Unlike the other islands they had visited, this was arranged in two larger areas. The first, the outer rim, was fields of green, nothing but nature. But the grass was kept short, and no larger spots of forest ruled supreme. Countless roads all led to the center. The second part was a city of containers stacked on top of each other. Pillars reaching as high as the Eagle's Peak. Even from far away and airborne, Liron struggled to comprehend the sheer amount of them. How could there be a number high enough to describe the magnitude?
As they flew above them, steering towards the heart of Yuan, Liron watched hundreds of Janloons move like the wind. They operated like a Machina, one greater construct, each aspect fully relying on the others. Following a clear plan, they moved several containers, attaching them to four smaller balloons, letting them float in the air. As they were pulled out of the towers, the ones above didn't fall down, upheld by a metal scaffolding that had housed the container.
Liron had been blinded by the sheer magnitude of the Company that he had failed to see the genius behind their planning. Without issue, the containers flew forward, perfectly fitting through the pillars with space to spare. The Janloons knew each aspect of their storage city, finding the containers they were looking for with ease. None of the workers impeded the other, trusting one another. Their structure was a thing of beauty, rivaling the Flying Islands themselves. Should a Janloon make a mistake, the system would endure, bearing it without issue. Any personal failing would be caught by the greater thing.
The Great Janloo Company was the mirror image of the Empire, but Liron found no horror in it. Janloo proved that a kingdom could exist without devouring the ones upholding it.
Their balloon carried them above the hundreds of pillars, reaching the center of the island. In the middle, a platform stood ready, carrying countless trading stands. The containers landed nearby, and the merchants helped the workers empty them, placing the goods at their stands. Angin and Liron were dropped off at one of the few empty spots.
The Alchemist pulled Liron next to a stand, ensuring they didn't stand in the way of the process. Within minutes, enough goods to transform any beggar into a rich highborn were positioned. As the last containers were flown off, a high shrill tone went off, and the platform stirred.
Liron shrieked, grabbing onto the stands, earning a few laughs from the Janloons nearby. Moved with an invisible hand, the platform descended, swallowed by the island. The stone walls were lit up with green lights, passing them by as they climbed down. Angin put a hand on Liron's shoulder, grinning.
Silverlight surged over them as the platform made it out of the island. Liron gasped, seeing the entirety of Buun spread below him. Having thrice the size of Kupferrang, this new city dwarfed all that Liron had ever seen. The Flying Islands hovered closely above them; thus, he couldn't see the entirety of Buun. A forest of houses wherever his gaze fell, claiming the ground for its own, conquering the horizon, too.
Liron had known they were flying through Lorsos. Isolated in a small village like Eisenrahm, even Liron had heard stories of the land ruled by the Lorraines. One of music, art, and debauchery. As true Nords, they had cursed them under their breaths. Them and their colors and bright spirits.
If these old farts had seen what Liron had, they would have choked on their vain insults. Janloo's beauty often lay in their minimal design, refusing to indulge themselves. The Empire showered itself in its wealth, getting drunk on its opulence. In his childish arrogance, Liron had believed such displays to be in poor taste, showcasing nothing but the desperate need to prove something that the Empire hadn't.
The endless golden roofs silenced his critiques. The three cathedrals he could see, each grander than the one he had helped destroy in Kupferrang, proved that the Empire did have something. Power. The power to build such wonders. What else could raise such a monument of the human spirit to create? And could such significance be birthed without divine intervention and blessing from the heavenly Father Himself?
Kupferrang was, in fact, a smaller city. And a poorer one.
Beyond the endless depictions of Harras or memorials to His chosen ones immortalized in each and every building, the streets of Buun shone in a blue and violet light. Similar to the ones Liron had loved in Lichtwald. But these lights had an intensity and elegance to them that stood high above nature. They were born from Great Machinas, interwoven into the architecture the same way the trees did with the houses on Janloo. One giant statue depicting Augustus stood at a centerpiece of the area Liron saw. Or perhaps it was one sharing Casar's divine being with the masses. There was no telling the difference, as the Emperor's appearance was molded after his ancestor.
The Company had shown Liron what beauty could come from structure. The Empire just stomped it into the ground, squashing all under its sheer magnitude. The gold, the grand statues, and the bioluminescence did nothing but hide the simple truth behind the glorious facade. The Empire was a boar, both in approach and intellect. One could adorn the beast, groom the fur, and grind the tusk. But it would remain a boar, and without taming it, breaking its spirit, it couldn't be trusted.
The platform stopped descending, attached by arms of metal to the Flying Islands. Grand bridges were lowered, allowing the masses to race each other to the top. Angin kept both of them behind a market stand. Dozens of highborns and their entourage swarmed the Janloons, and the trading began in earnest.
Hundreds of voices, arguing, haggling, and defrauding one another. Liron cringed under it. Under the screams, the threats, and the agreements. Kupferrang had taught him to navigate larger crowds, but this chaos overwhelmed the poor little shovel boy. He had seen more peaceful battles since he had left Eisenrahm.
The highborns of Buun dressed themselves in colorful garments, both men and women dressing themselves similarly. The ladies preferred larger dresses, while the men often chose more formal pieces. But the idea was the same behind them. A flock of odd birds, all competing with one another to garner the most attention. An utterly mad sight for a Nord like Liron. Only a nutcase would be thirsting for the eyes of the surrounding folk. What did they have to prove by trying to become the center of every place they entered?
As Liron watched the trading, he understood why the highborns fought over each good. Even to a layman like him, he recognized the value and rarity of the things the Janloons sold. Philos filled with strange spices, books clad in the finest leather, jewelry worthy for one of Harras's chosen. Any thief bold and foolish enough to test his luck would become wealthy through one successful haul. But the guards standing next to each stand ensured that such an attempt would be punished on the spot.
As they had traveled to Yuan, Liron was afraid to partake in the trade. "Won't they notice me?" he had asked. "I mean, I'm…"
"Liron Sturm?" Angin had said. "Don't worry. I think neither of us will stand out much."
The Alchemist was correct. In this sea of black, two Ravenspawns were nothing to waste time on. Strange, how easy all these pious souls forget the bad omen Liron's hair was meant to represent if the cursed folk had a service these highborns truly desired. How easy ignorance could be bought. They would be outraged at a more convenient time.
Angin and Liron witnessed the trading for the two hours Janloo stayed at Buun. To earn their place, they aided the stand they stood next to, refilling the shelves. The Janloon merchant sold spices, exotic ones Liron had never heard of. Unlike all the workers who had organized the trade, the merchant, as well as all the others at the stands, was quite older. What they had lost in strength with their gone youth, they had gained in wisdom and experience. The highborn's vain attempts to deceive the merchants for a better price were blocked with trained ease, punishing them with an according rise in what they wanted for their goods. The merchants didn't work with set prices, letting the buyers struggle for a decent one they would be willing to pay.
As Liron restacked the shelf, the merchant handed him a phial containing cinnamon with a flick of his hand. He slightly turned his head towards him, winking at the younger men before a servant working for a highborn challenged him, demanding a fair price. He didn't get one.
Angin and Liron lacked the speed and efficiency of the Janloons, but they did their part, panting as the horn bellowed, announcing the end of the trade. The guards drove away the last remnants of highborns. Their next chance to trade would wait for weeks, if not months.
"There are many cities in the Empire, Liron," Angin explained as the platform climbed back into Yuan. "Each of the four realms has at least a dozen places worth visiting regularly. Dozens more for a sporadic one. Lorsos alone will take a week. If Janloo headed straight for Sannara, we would be there in a day."
Liron frowned, his gut cramping. "Wait… aren't we fucked because of that?"
"What do you mean?"
"Ehr… doesn't the Inquisition have plenty of chances to get up with us?"
While the trading had raged on, one spot for the platform was reserved for any passenger requesting the right to travel with the Company. At least thirty people accompanied them, all highborn. Janloo was allowed to travel with them, but this didn't mean they would do it for free. They were a company after all.
Angin grinned. "Good, Liron. Very good. Yes, every stop should provide our enemies an opportunity to infiltrate Janloo. Let me ask you this, Liron. You correctly figured out that this could be a problem. Now do the opposite. Why could this be something we don't have to give a fuck about?"
Liron rubbed his chin. "Mhm… I guess… they can't do anything while here. I mean, the Empire and Janloo have a deal after all. And they couldn't just send some assholes in to attack us and then get punished for it because Janloo would know. It would fuck up their relationship."
Liron furrowed his eyebrows, pursing his lips. "And by that, I am not worth risking what they have."
"Yes, Liron, yes. You are more of a symbol than anything else. The Empire will need to get rid of you, but they are still reeling from what the Resistance has pulled on them. Kupferrang alone will take a shit ton of work to keep quiet. The Inquisition can't just send a team here. Neither can Military. They all work on their own, but their fuck-up would be one they all would share, causing larger conflict down the line. Meaning, more targets for their enemies to strike."
Angin got closer to Liron, his smirk a disgusting thing. "So, yeah, your sorry ass isn't worth shit."
Liron narrowed his eyes. "Not yet at least," he said, pushing away his master. He couldn't prevent the corner of his lips from moving upwards. "But say, Angin, why are they in such a rush? Why not stay longer?"
"Well, the Flying Islands rely on the lessened gravity the Silver Moon provides. Without it, they struggle to stay airborne. Even their Great Machinas couldn't carry them on their own. Once it gets dark, they need to fly above the clouds. There, gravity's effect is weak enough so they can hover without fear of falling, but they can't move. So, they have to wait for the Silver Moon to rise again. Time's against them, Liron."
"As it's with you, old man. I can see your wrinkles from here."
Angin clutched his pearls. "You little shit. The folk of Eisenrahm must have pissed in your mouth for you to develop such a foul tongue."
They threw harmless jokes at each other as the platform rose, the workers on Yuan greeting them with applause. Their operation was an intense one to pull off, and they celebrated every single successful one. The Janloons cleaned the platform, moving with a relaxed pace now that the stressful part was done.
Angin and Liron helped as well, as a Lors boy hurried to him. He wore similar clothes like the Janloons, his family having become part of the Company by the looks of it.
"Are you… Liron?" he asked, feeling uneasy next to Liron, knowing who he was.
"Yeah?" Liron said.
"I'm to give you this," the boy said, struggling with Nord.
He handed Liron a letter, dashing away. Liron's reading capabilities had greatly improved, thanks to the dreams, but he let Angin read it first.
The Alchemist snarled. "It's Adenius. He has invited you to dinner. So you two can have a talk like 'dear friends ought to.' Fucking creep."
Liron looked down at his hands, recalling the beginning of the Raven Hunt. "It's a trap."
"Of course it is," Angin said, ripping the letter apart and throwing the pieces away. They were cleaned off by a Janloon glaring at the Alchemist for causing more trash. "He wants to get you killed. Janloo has a few ironclad rules. One of them is that violence is taboo. No passenger is allowed to harm another except for self-defense. And even then they aren't allowed to kill. He wants to bait you, make you lose your shit again, and then have you thrown off. You'd be in the middle of Lorsos, easy prey even for a preoccupied Inquisition."
"I will go," Liron said, clutching his hands into fists.
Angin stared at him. "Are you fucking with me? No, you won't. Liron, he's an Inquisitor. And a deranged one at that. They specialize in nothing but manipulating and getting in your head. He knows your buttons and how to press them."
"As well as I," Liron said, looking away. "At least, now I do. I promise I won't harm him, Angin. I know it's risky, but I… need to know about my parents. I need to see the man who killed them without a second thought. I want to know what he has done with 'em. He won't get me again. I've learned my lesson."
Angin wasn't convinced, sighing. "Fine, but listen. Adenius is someone that fights by playing tricks on your mind. He wants you emotional and paranoid. We have to prepare for this dinner and get as much out of him as possible. You are actually the perfect opportunity to do so, as the fucker wouldn't talk to any of us. But this will be a tough battle.
"So… before we go there, I wish to visit one final station."
Liron frowned. "And what exactly?"
Angin grinned. "An old friend."