It didn't take too long for the rest of the party to awaken. Arciel wandered out of her room when she overheard the commotion, Jules came looking for breakfast after a morning shower, and Boris suddenly appeared on the couch when no one was looking. Only Allegra was slow to arrive, albeit not because she'd woken up late. If anything, she was one of the first to rise. Like nearly every other Cadrian soldier on the premises, she got out of bed an hour before sunrise and began to work on self-improvement.

Her morning routine was constituted primarily of magical composition. She worked on her formulae, testing her theories and refining her logic in the time that she had alone. Most pure mages preferred bouncing ideas off each other and engaging in what was commonly referred to as wooden duck composition, but Allegra mostly kept to herself. It wasn't that she was worried that the others would grasp her logic and see through her tricks. In fact, she often published papers on her spells and their particulars so that her students could better study them. Nay, Allegra's problem was the fact that she most often dealt in curses.

It wasn't like they were uncommon, frowned upon, or otherwise avoided. Everyone spoke curses and there was nary a soul that didn't understand what exactly they construed. A curse was effectively an expression of loathing, an ill effect or event that one wished upon one's enemies. It was such a simple concept that even the average child understood it. But there were few correctly attuned to its use.

At least a small part of it stemmed from the process. Curse mages had to start as ritual mages who served the corresponding god. It wasn't entirely uncommon for powerful advanced classes to have poor starts. Most low-level artists were notoriously bad in combat, but with a few hundred levels, they wound up head and shoulders over most others. Likewise, seers tended to struggle unless paired with at least two other well-leveled classes.

There was just one caveat. Unlike most other classes, which could still be leveled traditionally, ritual mage demanded that one studied and performed. Only by properly dedicating oneself to a god and going through the lengthy, multi-year process could one attempt to evolve it. Curse mage was hardly powerful enough to justify the cost. There were dozens of alternatives capable of filling its niche; it took an eccentric to unlock the class through its only known means. The icing on the cake? An affinity for curse magic was exceedingly rare; one could easily dedicate a full decade to its practice only to find themselves incapable. Most of those who did unlock it were, ironically, dedicated non-combatants who saw no point in its selection.

Putting all of those conditions together had left the school without many practitioners. Allegra was one of two notable Cadrian experts, and the other had barely a third her levels, both racially and in the class itself. Guinea pigs aside, the Grand Magus herself was effectively the only one with any meaningful input about the spells' specific functions. Hence, the need for daily reflection.

With the extra time spent, she was later than everyone else. She used the sound of Jules' shower as her cue to wrap up her experimentation.

"Good morning, everyone," she greeted the room with a smile as she entered it. Most of the others responded in kind, but Claire refused to acknowledge her presence. She simply continued toying with the fox-elf's tail whilst looking in some other direction.

The rabbit did her best not to let it bother her. Keeping her smile as placid as possible, she sat down at the counter and enjoyed a hearty breakfast. Perhaps a few weeks ago, she might have tried to approach or otherwise strike up a conversation, but any such efforts were fruitless. Claire had set up an automatic defense that would force her mouth closed whenever she tried to speak and turn her around if she got too close.

Or at least, that was how the rabbit saw it. In reality, Claire was performing the task manually. It wasn't like she couldn't put together a spell that would deal with Allegra on its own, but she simply preferred the more traditional means of operation. Something about rebuffing her attempts improved the lyrkress' mood.

Claire had taken it a step further and turned it into something of a game. She tried to ensure that she always reacted when Allegra came within a fixed distance of her person, and that she always stopped her exactly a quarter of a second after she opened her mouth. It was funny to think that even the Grand Magus could be so blinded by impatience that she would misread such a simple series of spells. Claire's ultimate ability, which negated all forms of defence, only added to the fun. It allowed her to proceed with low power spells impossible for the rabbit to trace or detect. Perhaps in a more desolate land, the five points of magic that went into a tongue-twisting vector might have been somewhat discernable, but Valencia's ley lines filled the air with far too much noise.

It was almost a shame that Allegra had given up.

Almost.

Dismissing the thought, Claire turned towards the door right before it was subject to a trio of soft but resonant knocks.

"Excuse me." An older woman's voice soon came from the other side of the door. It was equal parts stern and dignified. One could easily hear the clipboard in her hands, the glasses on her face, and the many long hours each day she spent sorting through legal papers.

Chloe rushed over to the door and quickly checked that she was presentable before opening it and greeting the locals with a bow.

"Good morning," she said, with a smile.

"Good morning," said the lady. She was a small, portly woman. Though clearly a purebred centaur, she was barely two meters tall despite standing at the usual width. And surely enough, she had a clipboard in hand. "I do believe this is the scheduled time. Are you ready to leave, or will you need a few moments to prepare?" The woman was dressed like a maid, but Claire recognized her at a glance as the Lady of house Decimus.

"We'll be out shortly," said Chloe, with a smile. She turned around and looked specifically at Sylvia, who was still in her least vulpine form, and still dressed in an oversized shirt. Everyone else had already changed out of their morning clothes, and into whatever was most presentable.

It took a moment for her to get a hint, but she quickly turned back into a fox and took up her position atop Claire's head. The others gathered in the meantime. They weren't quite single file, but they stood in an almost line-shaped blob behind Arciel, who'd approached the maid with a smile.

"Thank you, Madame," she said. "I do believe we are bound for the gardens?"

"That is correct, Your Majesty," she said, with a light bow. "Right this way, please."

She walked through the palace with a smile and led the party down its many halls. Returning to the castle's entrance wasn't quite as difficult as navigating its halls, but it did require a number of unconventional, pole-based descents.

Claire wasn't exactly motivated by any of the upcoming events. If not for the need to keep up appearances, she surely would have skipped the day entirely and goofed off in town. Or at least that was how she felt before she learned that it wasn't just her father awaiting them outside the building. Ragnar and Rubia were present as well, the former still shirtless, and the latter dolled up and ready to go. Her maids had dressed her up in a frilly white dress and topped her off with a wide-brimmed hat.

She smiled as soon as she saw Claire, albeit faintly. She didn't have much else of a choice with so many eyes upon her.

Virillius briefly looked in Claire's direction. He didn't address her directly or even change his expression, but she could tell, just from his eyes, that he was scolding her, silently reprimanding her for all the trouble she caused him. The snake-moose couldn't help but feel that it was a shame she had to wear her armour. She almost didn't want to hide the smirk that his inconvenience had wrought.

"Good morning, everyone," he said. "As per our previous night's discussion, I have arranged for a location to serve as a bridge between our nations. We have, likewise, modified the roadways to better suit your people's locomotion. The designs were based heavily upon the discussions that we had with an individual hailing from the Ryllian Sea."

"Your consideration is greatly appreciated," said Arciel, with a nod. "There are few generous enough to agree to our terms, and even fewer capable of performing posthaste."

"I simply happen to be blessed with excellent staff," said Virillius. He led the party towards a large vehicle, or at least something that a Cadrian might have recognized as a vehicle. For the foreign guests, it was simply a large blocky object with no obvious form or function. After all, it was effectively a giant block of metal. The overall shape was like that of a massive, twenty-sided die, stretched so that its width was roughly twice its length.

It didn't help that it lacked an obvious door until the party drew near, at which point, one of the triangular pieces began to shift out of place. It extended from one of the two ends and formed a long ramp through which the party could board the craft.

"This is a vehicle developed in the last decade," said Virillius, as he noted their confusion. "The technology has yet to be released to the public, and this is one of the few not intended for military use."

"By the gods, this thing is ugly," said Ragnar. "Let me guess. Another one of Allegra's designs?"

"Oh, piss off," grumbled the rabbit.

"How's the thing even move? It looks like a goddamn brick," said Jules.

"You don't have to sugarcoat it. Just say it's ugly," said Ragnar.

"There is an engine in the back that allows it to fly," said Virillius.

"I presume its function is that of a miniature fortress?" said Arciel.

"They do serve as decent armoured transports, but unfortunately, their engines don't produce enough output for most military grade equipment."

Claire had seen the lifeboat-class airships on quite a few occasions. The occasional prototype had certainly flown past the manor some ten years prior, but their use was rare. Even the case that her father had described wasn't entirely accurate. They were closer to escape pods than true transports, and the particular vehicle they were boarding was effectively an anomaly, something purpose built for the sole reason of entertaining foreign guests.

As was to be expected of such a piece, its interior screamed of luxury. Though it was a small space, it didn't appear as such. The floor was made of a beautiful hardwood, and the furniture was much the same. The ceiling had diffuse lights spread all over, lining the golden trim that sat atop the brilliant white suede that coated the walls. There weren't any windows, but the regularly placed displays more than made up the difference. They reflected the outside world, conveying it to the guests precisely as would a set of apertures.

The tables were already set with snacks, perfectly ripe fruits handpicked for their aesthetic perfection, and beautifully marbled meats that kept their delicious fats post preservation. They were matched by a basket of freshly baked bread and a beautiful spread of high-end cheeses. Several servants stood at the ready, two males, four females, all selected for their lack of size. The elves and cottontails were best suited for navigating the narrow, skybound container.

Virillius himself was clearly far too tall for the transport. While upon his feet, he had to duck to keep his head from hitting the ceiling.

"This is quite the impressive vignette," said Arciel, as she followed the other two monarchs and took a seat near the elongated room's far end. "It is far more welcoming than I would have expected, considering its exterior."

"I will pass that message onto the carrier's designer," said the moose king.

"Wait, so it wasn't Allegra?" asked Ragnar.

"Buzz off already! I'm not even that bad at prettying things up!"

"You only say that because you haven't looked into a mirror lately. Pretty sure your waistline is the biggest it's been in centuries."

"Oh, screw you!" Allegra drew her wand, but Virillius caught her by the wrist before she could loose any spells.

"I'd rather you didn't do that inside of the airship," he said.

"Right…"

The rest of the party filed in and sat whilst curiously watching over the exchange, with Chloe as the only one who didn't immediately make herself comfortable. She took a moment to look between one of the empty seats and the places where the other servants were standing before finally settling into her position as a foreign guest.

There was a brief moment of silent tension after everyone was seated. Even Sylvia was affected. She took a few moments to chew the dried fish she'd grabbed instead of swallowing it whole as usual. It was Virillius' fault. He'd silently placed his gaze upon her, as if wordlessly judging her actions.

The unease lasted until Jules followed suit and grabbed a bottle of wine off the table. One of the maids immediately walked over with a corkscrew and a handful of glasses, but he yanked the stopper with his teeth and started drinking straight from the bottle. The maid was shocked. Her eyes open wide, she slowly looked between Jules and her master, who silently shook his head, before awkwardly spinning around and returning to the place where all the others stood by.

"This is some good shit," said Jules. "You guys should try some."

Arciel briefly raised her brow before breaking into a laugh. "I do apologize for his behaviour. Reverence is hardly his strongest suit."

"I don't mind," said Virillius.

"Yeah, the old bastard isn't as stiff as he looks," said Jules, with a smirk.

"I've been saying that for centuries, and no one believes me," said Ragnar. The moth extended one of his hands towards Jules, who passed the bottle with a grin. "You're right. This is some pretty good stuff."

"Crazy good." Jules grabbed the drink back and took another swig. "So, what are we waiting for? And when's this thing taking off?"

"It already has," said Virillius. He pointed at one of the projected windows. "We are currently above the city, flying at a height of roughly a thousand meters."

"Are we really?" asked Krail. "I didn't even realise we were moving. I don't think I've ridden anything this smoo—"

"Perhaps another time, Krail," said Arciel.

"Right," The elf coughed. "My bad."

"Are there any landmarks nearby?" asked Lana. She spoke between bites; she was happily indulging in the snack spread even though she'd just eaten breakfast. "Famous ones."

"We've kept the number of landmarks at a minimum in order to strengthen the city's defenses," said Virillius. "But our destination is close, and it's one of the few."

"There's just shy of ten of them in total," said Allegra. "The castle, the colosseum, Vella's temple, the town square, the three in-town dungeons, and the street with all the schools."

"Schools? How are the goddamn schools supposed to work as landmarks?" asked Jules.

"They're for martial arts and the military," said the rabbit. "They're fairly popular, as far as public exhibits go."

"It's like what the erdbrechers did in Vel'khagan, except out on display," said Claire. She made sure to use the lower pitch that often came with her disguise. Vanessa Greenwood, the elven maid, was a notoriously sharp quidnunc known for being right on the money.

"Honestly, I don't even know what the fuck they did," said Jules. "I barely ever visited the area you guys set up for the refugees."

Krail scratched his head. "Are you sure? I seem to recall you staffing one of the soup kitche—"

A fresh bottle of wine was between the elf's lips before he could finish his sentence.

"So, how long's it gonna be until we get there?" asked Jules.

"Maybe a minute or two, shouldn't be much longer," said Allegra. "We're already descending, if you haven't noticed."

"Not at all," said the clam, as he directed his gaze to a window. "What's the trick?"

"Probably an artifact, right?" said Sylvia, whose mouth was filled with fish. "That's how they do everything around here."

"That's right," said Allegra. "It's called a levitas, and just about every airship has one. Apparently, Ennius of Bursio, the inventor, got the idea from his chickens."

"How does that make any sense?" asked Chloe. "Aren't chickens just supposed to be livestock?"

"Some can use swords," said Claire.

"Have you ever tried to move a chicken around in midair?" asked Allegra.

"Dunno if it's just me, but I'm pretty sure you just asked something fucking insane," said Jules.

"I'm aware of how ludicrous it seems, but chickens are constructed in such a way that allows them to keep their head steady even as the rest of their body is otherwise displaced. Unfortunately, the process is more mechanical than magical, but with some observation, we were able to construct a spell that imparts much the same effect," said the cottontail.

"Matters of poultry aside, we've arrived," said Virillius. The door opened as he spoke, revealing a wide open space in the middle of town. "This is where the gate is slated for construction."

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