Fable of Sylvia

Note: This is outdated, refer to here for the latest version

Act One

Part one

This is a story from long ago, so long ago that few remember it. It tells of the ancient elven homeworld of Sylvia, and two of its inhabitants, caught in a whirlpool.

We begin our story in the windswept tower of Trazyn the wizard. Its master is floating among a forest of books, a veritable ocean of paper. Wearing his long beard and enveloping robes, he seeks to pull threads unpulled, to test the limits of the weave. In his tower nestled between two mountain peaks, near the south pole of Sylvia, he basks in the eternal sunlight of his observatory as he teases at the fabric of the universe. His apprentice, Shuri, is a slight figure even by elven standards. Her long hair is drawn back into a ponytail almost as sharp as her ears and a spellbook rests at her hip. She stands at the base of the tower, leaning casually against the doorframe and gazing sunward.

A long shadow precedes the appearance of a figure at the crest of the ridge. A billowing cloak silhouettes against the low sun, concealing the shape of the elf beneath. Shuri squints into the light, trying to make out the figure. She soon recognises her old friend and longtime companion, and before long Hermia has her trapped in her arms. They make their way around the tower and catch up in the shade it provides. “Hermia, it’s been too long,” says Shuri. “Well, I have been very busy, ” replies Hermia, laying a hand on the twin shortswords next to her. “My new master is quite the character. He keeps making me do mundane tasks for him, something about it improving my discipline.” “Yeah, but still,” Shuri says, with a long gaze over the mountains on the horizon. “It gets lonely here.”. A moment of silence passes betwen them. “So your master up here hasn’t been quite what you hoped for?” asks Hermia. After a pause, Shuri replies: “I wouldn’t say that; I don’t know what I hoped for to begin with, really. He’s - how should I put this - not a bad teacher. He doesn’t talk much, or ever, really, but he always seems to know the solution to whatever’s got me stuck. It’s like he’s got the entire library mapped out in his mind.” “Now that’s extraordinary. Sounds like both of our masters are somewhat unusual.” “You have a gift for understatement. Besides, I don’t think you can live that long without becoming a little unusual.” Another long moment of companionable silence stretches out as the pair observe the landscape spiralling out beneath them. Sylvia, even in those days at the height of the elven civilisation, was still a big world with plenty of untouched wilderness. It was a long and cold journey to the nearest village.

Later, Hermia’s cloak swishes off the hook next to the door. “Well, I had better be off now. I wouldn’t want to impose, after all.” Hermia says as she frowns at the wilderness through the door. “No, Hermia, I’m not letting you come all this way only to leave again so soon. After all, we have a bottle to finish.” Shuri follows from what passes as the kitchen, glass still in hand. “But I was under the impression that the only rooms in the tower were yours and your master’s.” “True…” Shuri glances down nervously. “But my room is quite big.” Hermia raises an eyebrow ever so slightly and replies “If you’re sure you don’t mind-” “No, I definitely don’t,” Shuri says quickly, grabbing Hermia’s hand as she turns toward the door. “Please, Hermia. I don’t want to wait another five years for another chance to-” “Ah, fine, you idiot. You never were that good at being straight with people. I guess I can just say I lost track of the days down here; what’s a few days to a swordmaster who’s lived for hundreds of thousands?” Hermia swivels on her heel and draws Shuri into a tight embrace. “We wouldn’t want you getting lonely up here now, would we?” she murmurs into her ear.

Many more days pass in the tower of endless sunlight. Both women continue to hone their craft, Shuri her command of the weave and Hermia her command of the blade. Days stretch into months, which stretch into years as they grow into their fullest potential. But there is a storm brewing, one which would soon envelop the entire system.

Part two

Hermia stood on the edge of the deck of the ENS Verdant Growth, surveying the stars laid out before her. Sylvia looked surprisingly small from this distance. Next to her, slouching against a railing, was a crewman even younger than she was. “So, how does the legendary Hermia Sobeck end up a lieutenant in the navy? Not much to swordfight in wildspace.” the youth remarks with a smirk. “Oh, you’d be surprised. And that’s lieutenant Sobeck to you, Syken.” replied Hermia, not even bothering to look around. Syken sits up a little as he notices someone approaching them, before snapping to attention and making a sharp salute. “Captain, Sir!” He shouts. Hermia looks around to see the captain of the Verdant Growth approaching the pair.

Captain Andros was long-serving in the Navy, known to be strict but even-handed. Years uncounted on spelljammers of all kinds meant he had an almost instinctive feel for the workings of the ship, matched only by his understanding of his crew. On his shoulder perched his companion, a small bird with four wings called Zakaret. “Lieutenant Sobeck, congratulations on the transfer. Has Syken been doing a good job showing you around?” asked the captain, his voice warm and gravelly. “Yes, sir. I’m still unfamiliar with some of the more complex systems, but I imagine Syken is as well, so I won’t begrudge him that.” responded Hermia. “The glittertech on this ship is cutting edge, not like anything you’ll find planetside, young lady. Don’t go trying to figure it out on your first day now. Anyway, to business: we’ve just got in orders from fleet command. We’re on taxi duty.” “Sir, thank you for the update, sir. But why tell us yourself, sir?” piped up Syken. “Well, young man, Lieutenant Sobeck just so happens to know the passenger we’ve been assigned. We’ll be moving out soon and I wanted to know a little more in advance. You see, the passenger is none other than the archmage Trazyn.” Hermia’s eyes widen upon hearing this and she stands a little straighter. “So, young lady, what can you tell me of this venerable master?” “Unfortunately not much, sir. He’s my wife’s magic tutor and master, but I only ever met him in passing. He disapproves of my distaste for magic, so whenever I visited Shuri he kept to his library and rooms at the top of the tower.” “And what of his competency?” “By Shuri’s account, second to none, sir.” Hermia feels a slight shudder in the deck and notices a low hum rising from below. “Good. Goddess knows we’ll need him in the days to come.” And with that, Andros sharply turns heel and walks off, murmuring to his familiar as he does so. Hermia slowly lets out a breath and turns back towards the railing, with Syken following her gaze. They see the stars begin to move around them and watch as they turn into bright white lines at the ship’s local horizon. Hermia still found this disorientating, even after some months in the Navy, as her eyes disagreed with her ears about where they were going.

Soon the sky began to fade up from black as the Verdant Growth slung low over Sylvia. At the same time, the low hum from belowdecks increased to a constant whine and a fast wind skimmed the deck as the ship’s air bubble merged with the planet’s. Someone shouted to hang on to something. Hermia only just heard it over the whistling of the rigging and the whine of the engines, but turned to get a good grip on the railing she’d been leaning on. Despite the rarity of a spelljammer flying down onto a planet, Captain Andros ran a tight ship, and everything was going smoothly. Soon the wind died down as their speed dropped, and Syken made his way over to Hermia. “First time breaking atmosphere?” He said breezily as he resumed his slouch against the railing. “Yes - I had no idea it would be so… loud.” Replied Hermia begrudgingly. “Guess this archmage is some proper hot stuff, to have the Navy task a fully armed scout corvette to fly down and pick him up. You even know how risky it is to break atmosphere?” “Yes, I’m aware. I didn’t join the Navy yesterday, Syken.” Hermia threw a sharp glance his way. “All right, all right, point taken, Lieutenant. Ain’t that his tower, anyway?” Syken takes out a telescope, but Hermia immediately recognises the tower from the shape of the long shadow it casts on the surrounding mountains.

Shuri looks up from her grimoire as she feels the breeze of her master passing by. Sat coss-legged at the base of a bookshelf, she looks up at the poorly-defined shape of the archmage Trazyn and watches as he opens the door, his robes, hat and cloak all billowing out spectacularly in the gust of air rolling through the door. Shuri raises a hand to shield her face from the wind and gets up, slinging her spellbook over her shoulder and catching her purple scarf as it blows off the back of the chair it had been draped over. “Master, am I to come with you?” Shouts Shuri. Trazyn extends a hand from deep within the folds of his robes and beckons her forward. Hand still raised against the wind, Shuri walks out of her master’s tower to a sight which hit her with more force than the air trying to knock her off her feet. A spelljammer, a full sized eighty-meter-long thirty-meter-high dark green corvette loaded with ballistae, hovered not more than a hundred meters above the ground, air swirling around it like it was the eye of a sizeable storm. Glyphs were painted on its hull in a light blue colour in seemingly abstract patterns. As her eyes rose, Shuri started to see a series of figures standing behind the railing deliniating the edge of the deck from open air, too small to make out. Here eyes then rose a little more to land on the willow tree growing out of the middle of the ship, right where the central mast would have been on a watership. Just as this is about to overwhelm her, she hears Trazyn casting Fly through the wind and closes her eys for a moment to regain the focus needed for casting spells, before following her master up through the storm onto the deck of the spelljammer, where all is calm. Or was calm, as a rush of people come to greet them.

First among them was Hermia, ahead of the pack as always. She brushed past the archmage and threw an arm across Shuri’s shoulder. “This is normally where you say it’s been too long, darling, isn’t it? Fortunately for me, though, the Navy broke atmo with a corvette just for me.” “It’s always been too long, dear, even just the few months it’s been since you joined up. As for the jammer, I suppose the real question is, where are we going now, and what’s so urgent that High Command would justify throwing a perfectly good boat down a gravity well?” “No time for pleasantries, then? Unfortuately that’s two for two on unanswered questions on my part as well, darling. But perhaps the good captain would shed some light on matters?” As Hermia looks over, the light footsteps of Captain Andros a can be heard and the crew all quiet down and snap to attention. Andros’ familiar flies down onto his shoulder from where it had been sat atop the willow. Just as the silence is getting deafaning, Andros says: “I extend the humblest of greetings, prestigious archmage. The ENS Verdant Growth stands at your disposal. Quarters have been prepared to the best of our abilities; you are free to explore the ship at your leisure. I offer my apologies if any of the facilities are not to your liking. Lastly, I understand that you are in quite a hurry, and should you desire to set off promptly, that can be achieved.” “He does do a good line in sucking up, doesn’t he?” Whispers Shuri into Hermia’s ear. At the same time, Trazyn walks up to the Captain and leans over as if to whisper something in his ear. Andros then turns to the crew and proclaims: “How nice of you all to gather here. Navigation, set course for Lyria, fastest available, via the supply base on Aaven-16. Engines and Cargo, prep for rapid refueling and resupplying. Everyone else, batten down the hatches, we’re pushing the old girl to her limits for this one. Dismissed.”

The floor begins to vibrate with a familiar hum as the ship begins to ascend, making its way starward. Syken walks out of the crowd towards Hermia and Shuri. “Look at the two lovebirds, how cute you are. I’m to show miss Shuri to her quarters, though I imagine you already know where they are, Hermia.” “You’re on thin ice, Syken, why don’t you go and batten down some hatches or something? I do outrank you - and since this ship’s already gone planetside and we’re about to speed all the way to the edge of the system for something or other, we’re going to need it. And besides, you correctly assumed that I already know where Shuri’s quarters are.” Hermia put a strict edge into her voice she only used when the younger disciples at her dojo were being unruly. Syken looked disappointed and sauntered off. Hermia looked back at Shuri, who was still gazing at the ship, and grabbed her hand. “Come on, I’ll show you our room. It’s got quite the view.” She said. Shuri seemed to return back to earth, shook her head slightly, and followed along. “I’ve only been here five minutes and I already get to hear some of strict Hermia? It’s my lucky day, evidently.” “Careful, or I might have to be strict tonight”, Hermia snuck in with a smirk. “Oh, wouldn’t you like that, dear. Anyway, where’s this Lyria place? I gather it’s far away.” “Have you been neglecting your astrology classes?” Taking advantage of the lowering light as they flew out of Sylvia’s atmosphere (a process much easier than flying in, fortunately, though just as glitter-intensive), Hermia pointed at one of the countless stars coming into view. “It’s that one. Yes, the big one. Big ball of gas a few months out from here.” “A few months??” Shuri stopped halfway across the deck. “Shit, I thought — well, I don’t know what I thought, I’ve never even been on a spelljammer for more than a day before-” She lets go of Hermia’s hand, looking up at the stars and starting to realise the enormity of what she had been dragged into. “I guess I assumed it was some small thing, a few days at most. Master doesn’t usually invite little old me on his grand adventures.” Hermia turns around and takes both of her hands in her own. “Darling, I’m here. For all the stars above may overwhelm you with their awe, and believe you me, I’ve been overwhelmed, I’ve got the only star I need right here.” Shuri looks down from the stars and into Hermia’s eyes. “Don’t say something so corny, dear, you’re going to make me cry,” Shuri says as she draws Hermia into a tight embrace. “Come on, room’s this way. Can’t have you crying in front of the crew.” Hermia’s voice is muffled by Shuri’s taller form. “All right.”

The stars again begin to dissolve into white lines as the Verdant Growth accelerates out of the gravity well.

Part three

The ENS Verdant Growth hung low, oriented in such a way that the yellow-green hues of the gas giant Lyria hung low over everyone’s head like a displeased god.

Hermia and Shuri are on deck sparring below the rivers of gold and viridian. Despite the different classes they are evenly matched and neither one is able to best the other. Hermia is moving like the wind, dashing past all the gusts of wind, the walls of fire, the acid splashes and the lightning bolts. She tries to knock Shuri down, only for Shuri to block her with a well-timed Shield. The ring of crewmen which has gathered to witness this spectacle cheers, watching Hermia attempt to make one last attack with her other sword, when everything stops. Silence washes over the decks like a wave as everyone snaps to attention at the appearance of Captain Andros and Archmage Trazyn. Andros clears his throat.

“Attention Crew! You may have seen the seaskipper Hopping By rendezvous a few days ago. As well as glitter and supplies, it had some new information from High Command. One of our long-range scout ships has returned from beyond the edge and confirmed our fears. The Meridian-Zygorax-Liesden Joint Empire of the Twin Suns has decided to invade us for reasons that High Command has not deigned to share. If you don’t recognise the name, they’re a fairly new kid on the block.” A few of the older crew chuckle at this. Elves, withdrawn as they are from the wider glactic culture, still try and keep up with general happenings, despite the difference in perspectives. Andros surveys the crowd before continuing. “However, they’ve conquered a few systems now and as such outnumber us ship for ship. Much more concerningly, High Command says they’ve somehow commandeered a few Giff ships which might actually be able to put up a fight, as well as the usual mix of standard Human/Dwarf mongrel designs and some Xichil paper boats.” This causes much muttering among the crew, with some figures bandied around and some discussions breaking out about hull strength and engine capacity. A particularly heated one rises above the rest, debating the usefulness of some new-fangled ‘gunpowder’ stuff and its usefulness versus capacity to get everyone blown up. Andros has to raise his voice slightly to restore order. “Crew! Quiet!” Silence is immediately restored. “No-one will be getting blown up on my ship; we’re not here to engage an entire armada by ourselves. We are the trump card.” Andros at this point looks at Trazyn as if he wants him to say something. When it becomes apparent that this is not going to happen, Andros begins to explain again. “The kind of trump card which can take out an entire armada.” A collective gasp rises from the assembled crew. “I’ll put it this way: we’re going to collapse Lyria into a black hole and suck all the enemy ships into it.” A few confused-sounding whispers can be heard. Hermia notices Shuri’s hand shaking and looks over, only to see that she looks like someone who’s just come out of a shipwreck the only survivor. Just as she is about to whisper something to Hermia, Andros speaks up again. “Now I’m not going to mince my words: this is a very dangerous stunt. We’ll need precise timing and perfect performance to pull this off. I’ll brief sections individually, starting now. Dismissed.” Just as everyone is starting to go back to their duties, a voice pipes up from the back of the crowd. “All due respect sir, but mind explaining what a ‘black hole’ is? I haven’t a clue,” Syken walks through the crowd to the front. “And it would seem to be of some importance if this stunt is as dangerous as you make it sound.” “Well, young man, suffice it to say that it’s as if all the mass in Lyria was compressed to a single point and its gravity magically amplified as a means to hold it in place.” Andros’s reply again spurs murmurs in the dispersing crowd.

Later, in their cabin, Hermia is holding Shuri’s still-shaking hands as she sits on the edge of their bed. They watch the atmosphere of the giant above them undulate, observe the passing of the twin moons circling Lyria in lockstep. It’s Hermia who eventually breaks the silence. “So I still can’t beat you in a fight after all, huh? We know each other too well. We’re like those moons - perfectly in sync. It’s a shame we’ve never gotten to test our cooperation skills, I bet they’d be second to none.” “There you go itching for a fight, dear. One of these days you’ll jinx us for real.” “The two of us can beat any curse, I reckon. Though, you look like you’ve been cursed yourself, darling - want to talk about it just yet?” Shuri looks out of the window and thinks for a long moment. A particularly large storm crosses Lyria, leaving a trail of blue hues across the lines of green and gold. Just then, a few solar sails pass close enough to see, shimmering wraiths barely visible even when so close. One of them catches Shuri’s eye and she follows it until it leaves the frame of the window. “I suppose… Well, I suppose that I feel a bit like that solar sail. A sliver of fabric caught up in forces much greater than I can hope to resist. There’s a good chance those solar sails get captured, this close to Lyria, and fall into it, never to return.” “Or, they catch a gust of the solar wind and keep going. Could go either way. So now tell me, what’s pulling you down?” Shuri considers her words for some time before continuing. Hermia can positively hear Shuri’s brain untangling the concepts in order to vocalise them. Shuri lies back on the bed before continuing. “It’s - well, to put it simply, it’s the black hole. Andros wasn’t lying when he said that it was dangerous. If anything, that was an understatement.” “I don’t imagine you’re scared of a little spell. I’ve seen you stand inches away from a wall of fire. What’s this one got which makes it so dangerous?” Shuri conjours a minor illusion above the bed, and Hermia lie next to her looking up at it. It depicts the green-and-yellow sphere of lyria and the not to distant Verdant Growth. “Where to start? Firstly, it’s range is terrible. You need to be far too close, the risk of getting pulled in yourself after you create the black hole is substantial.” Shuri manipulates the illusion, causing Lyria to shrink and turn back. A transparent sphere encloses both the shrunken planet and the ship, before the ship begins to slide towards the planet. “Not to scale, obviously.” Shuri says with a shrug. “…so old Cap wants to pull some fancy move in order to escape, I guess. That’s what he’s gonna brief the sections on.” “And, that’s not even the worst part. It’s a permenant hole in the - how do I put this - the fabric of the universe.” “Fabric of the universe?” “It’s the emptiness, the void between stars, it’s that. It can be warped.” Hermia has to take a moment in order to think about this. “I’m going to just go with you here. So what’s bad about warping it?” “We don’t know how to undo it and it’s a pretty important piece of, well, everything to be messing with.” “So this black hole thingy is going to be a permenant addition to the astrology charts, huh? What’s so bad about that?” Shuri dismisses the illusion before conjuring another one, this time with the sun, sylvia and lyria’s new black form all visible. “Since it’s gravity is bigger, it could - ” Shuri sighs, the explanations having taken a toll on her energy, ” - I mean, it could mess up the circles of the other planets and stuff. This is, and I’m not exaggerating, really really bad.” Hermia watches as Lyria ponderously arcs towars the sun, before colliding with it and merging into an even bigger black sphere. Just as Sylvia too begins to arc towards this dark sun, Hermia’s eyes widen as she realises what is about to happen. “Fuck me.” Hermia exclaims, reaching towards the illusion as if to grab Slyvia. “Surely Trazyn knows this? Why would he risk such a thing?” “I don’t know. That man is enigmatic at the best of times. Maybe High Command has some leverage or something.” “Nah, they’re not that low. What could they possibly have on an Archmage?” “There’s a piece of the puzzle missing, I know it. Something he and probably Captain know but we don’t. Something to make it worth it.” “Perhaps this fleet is a little bigger than we’ve been led to believe.” “Could be it.” “Anyway, enough about this. This is the longest time we’ve had together in forever, let’s make use of it, shall we?” Hermia lays back on their bed. “Let’s keep it quiet tonight, dear. I’m shattered after all that explaining. But it has definitely helped me figure a lot of things out, so thanks for that.” “My pleasure, as always, darling. A quiet night it is.”

They both sleep deeply that night.

Act Two

Part four

Around a week later, Hermia and Shuri are again sparring on the deck of the Verdant Growth, still evenly matched as ever. This time, there’s no circle of spectators. The most they get is someone stopping for a moment to watch the spectacle, before hurrying on with their task. Even Syken only offers a quick quip before moving on. Sill, the duels weighed heavier on them, as though the gas giant still looming above them pressed down on their shoulders. When they were both tired out, they rested on the bench encircling the trunk of the willow at the center of the Verdant Growth. “Goddess above, that was a long session. You must be exhausted after that much spellcasting.” “Well, you’re not wrong. I can study my spellbook to regain some energy, but not much. I’ll need a good rest before the operation begins tomorrow. You, on the other hand, look fairly fresh. How’d you manage that?” “A lot more time training the body, darling, simple as that.” Both of them sit in companionable silence, watching the focused activity of the rest of the crew pass them by. As the only two on the ship not actively involved in its preparation for the upcoming operation, they were probably the only crew resting at this moment. Shuri takes out her spellbook and begins to clear her mind, and even Hermia can sense the weave flowing back into her. “This spot is excellent for channeling,” Shuri says. “Old trees are always good for connecting to the weave.” “And why’s that?” asks Hermia “No-one’s really sure.” says Shuri with a smile. “Perhaps their structure mimics the weave in some way.” Shuri closes her eyes and places one hand against the old willow’s bark. Hermia notices the leaves begin to glow a light blue as Shuri channels weave through the tree, even prompting a few crewmen to pause and look up at the sight. “Nice trick, darling - certainly helps lighten the mood around here.” Shuri chuckles. “Least I can do - I have wanted to do a little more than sparring.” The leaves on the tree begin to shift in colour slowly. “We’re only here because we know Trazyn, that’s been clear since the start. Don’t let it bother you.” “Easier said than done, my dear.” The leaves on the tree begin to shift faster, swirling into whirlpools of colour. Soon the colours climb up the branches, causing the entire tree to run wild with a hypnotic pattern of colours that stops a few crewmen in their tracks just to stare. Hermia drags her eyes down, her retinas still imprinted with the swirling colours of the tree. She blinks away the imprints and looks over at Shuri, still touching the tree. The hues begin to reach down the trunk, seeming to form tendrils as they reach towards Shuri’s hand. Hermia grabs Shuri’s arm just as the tendrils of colour are about to reach it and pulls it away from the tree. It requires much more force than Hermia expected, but eventually Shuri’s palm comes away from the tree. Lines of blinding blue lightning arc between her hand and the bark, before releasing in a wave of force which knocks Hermia flat on her back on the deck, with Shuri landing on top of her.

The lines of pigment recede up the trunk and branches, before reaching the leaves and fading entirely. Even in the moments between the apperance and dissaperance of the colours, several crewmen passing by were enraptured. They return to reality sporadically, all rushing over to Hermia and Shuri as they do so. Hermia steadies her breathing and opens her eyes, only to see Shuri’s face two inches from hers, and immediately wraps her arm around Shuri to prevent her from falling off. She feels the characteristic light footsteps of Captain Andros in the deck beneath her and hears his voice not long after. “Reina, go fetch the cleric. Jarvan, with me. It’ll take two to lift her.” Hermia feels the weight on her chest lift as Andros and another crewman gently carry Shuri off. Soon she feels herself being similarly lifted and surrenders to unconsciousness herself amid the sound of even more footsteps arriving on the deck.

Part five

Hermia awakens later, lying on her bed next to a still-unconscious Shuri, and sees Captain Andros and his familiar silhouetted against the room’s window. She instinctively reaches for Shuri’s hand, finding it easily. The captain looks over his shoulder, his profile sharp agains the stars. “Time is of the essence, Hermia, so I’ll be frank. Do you know what happened there?” Hermia shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “Some kind of magic overload? Not my wheelhouse, captain.” “I thought as much. Don’t worry about it. I’ll ask the young lady when she wakes up.” Hermia leans over and places a hand on Shuri’s forehead. It’s still unusually warm.

A few minues pass. Then, Shuri’s eyes begin to slowly open, as if in a bright light. Just as she begins to realise where she is, her eyes instantly snap wide open and she sits up ruler-straight, Hermia instinctively dodging out of the way. Her breathing is quick and loud. “Careful, darling, you nearly hit me with that forehead of yours.” Hermia sits back on her heels. “You look like you’ve just woken up from a nightmare, darling, what’s wrong?” Shuri places a hand on Hermia’s shoulder and her breathing begins to steady. She slouches a bit and relaxes as she begins to process her surroundings. “We- We need to leave. Now. Turn the ship around. Such a masive pull…” Shuri starts breathing quickly again and Hermia shuffles closer to her, offering her shoulder. Andros turns around and walks into the light with arms folded and face set. “Shuri, as much as I trust you, but I’m going to need more than your word to turn this ship around. How about you get your thoughts in order and tell me what you know?” Shuri seems to take his advice, remaining silent and leaning her head on Hermia’s shoulder while she thinks. Andros turns back to face the window and a few akward moments pass. “So, young lady, what have you got?” Shuri closes her eyes for a moment before sitting up straighter and crossing her legs.

“A lot of luck, I think. I was channeling the weave when something else drew close - something channeling enough weave to hijack my tiny illusion into something much more powerful.” A frown creases Hermia’s brow. “How’s that even possible? We’re alone out here, no-one between us and Aaven. High command made sure of that. How do you even hijack a spell anyway?” “Well, the simplest explanation is this: a truly enormous spelljammer. A pretty crude one at that - messing with spells like that is a remmnant of the old days of glittertech, before the Volsken glyph standardisation. I’d conjure something to give you an idea, but you’ll forgive me for being cautious, I imagine.” Andros considers for a moment. “Any other theories?” “Could be hell messing around again - they do pull from the same weave, but their magic is extremely different from ours, so it’s unlikely it would interfere in such a way, even if I was a warlock. Everything else is highly unlikely; unknown stellar phenomena, some new type of glittertech, the like.”

Hermia still looks confused and concerned. “We definitely would have noticed such a big ship, so close by.” “That’s the trick, dear - they’re in the astral sea.” “What!? How??” Hermia leans forward, managing to look even more confused. At the same time, Andros turns back around, even his face showing signs of surprise. “Hermia’s right - how in the name of the Goddess are they this close to a gas giant in a ship big enough to do that? Are you sure they’re not just invisible or employing other means of concealment?” Shuri looked at both of them and shrugged. “Instinct, I guess. Every dimension has the same weave, so disruptions there would affect me here. Plus, aren’t there glitter detectors on this ship? If they’re anything like a Detect Magic, then they would have sensed it.” Andros strokes the back of his familiar, thinking. “That would align with events so far. That then presents the worrying conclusion that the enemy has some unforeseen capabilities, and necessitates a cha-” Andros is cut of abruptly by the bwoom-whoosh of a spelljammer plane-shifting in close proximity. All three of them are rocked by a sudden movement of the ship, as if impacted. The door to their cabin bursts open. Syken appears, and yells “Sir! Enemy presence, surrounding! You are needed on deck! Sir!” Shuri stands up on the bed and closes her eyes for a moment, focusing. “Shit, it’s real bad. Multiple ships, similar feeling to this one. No idea whose.” Her eyes open again. At the same moment, they hear another bwoom-whoosh and feel the accompanying jolt. Andros strides from the window, only pausing to look back at the two women. He says over his shoulder, “You two are technically still recovering, but if they’re shifting that close, I have a feeling you’ll be needed soon. Get ready and be on deck in five.” He looks back. “Syken, report to engine, get them warming up the plane shift. It’s time for the trump card.”

The door slams behind him. Shuri sits back down on the bed and looks at Hermia as the floorboards rock with the vibrations of another ship shifting in. “So, darling, shit has well and truly kicked off. How are you feeling?” Shuri looks at her hands and thinks for a bit. “Time to put all that sparring to work, then. Any idea who we’ll be fighting, species-wise?” “Some mongrel group, by the sounds of it.” “All right. Their plane shifts were certainly sloppy, I don’t even need to use detect magic. Old stuff, by half. Well, speaking of which, the weave around us just lit up - but it’s similar to my style, must be Trazyn warming up.” “I guess that’s our cue. Let’s just hope this works, then, darling.” “You and me both, dear.” Shuri jumps up off the bed and grabs her scarf off the back of a chair in the corner, while Hermia unhooks her cape and swords from the back of the door. Hermia slings the cape over her shoulder and turns back to Shuri. She opens the door, a rush of air billowing out her cape. With a bow, she gestures to the door and says “After you, m’lady.”

Part six

They emerge on deck to a chaotic whirlwind of a scene, with the wind blowing straight upwards and crewmen rushing across the ship. Immediately facing them, floating at the centre of all this, is Trazyn. He’s channeling so much weave Shuri can almost feel it tingling beneath her skin. Just as they are looking up to see where the wind’s going, the four-winged Zakaret flies over to them and squawks before flying off past the tree. Both women run with the bird to the bow of the ship, dodging past several crewmen as they do so. Andros stands at the helm, looking incongruously serene amongst the chaos. His hands are clasped behind him as he talks with a couple of harried-looking techies. They run down to belowdecks just as Hermia and Shuri run up to him. He turns to face them, his familiar landing back on his shoulder. “Ah, you’re here. We have a ship approaching boarding range.” “Above us?” Asks Hermia. “Yes. They’ll be within boarding range in a few minutes and I’ll need you two to prevent them from disrupting our activities. Ideally, this happens on their ship and not ours.” Syken, panting from exertion, appears at the top of the stairs, and barks “Captain, sir! Plane shift warming up, ten minutes until go-time, sir!” Hermia, Shuri and Andros all turn towards the stairs. Andros replies with a clipped “Thank you, Syken. Stand by.” Syken retreats to a nearby railing to lean on it. Andros looks back and reaches for the spyglass at his waist. Just as he is extending it, an idea strikes Hermia. “Captain, could Syken join us?” Andros lowers his spyglass ever so slightly and considers for a moment before replying. “Why?” “Well, Shuri’s never done boarding operations before, and I’d like another hand who has. Better odds that way.” “Ah, sometimes I forget that Shuri hasn’t gone through standard Navy training.” He looks to Syken, catching his breath a respectful distance away, and shouts, “Syken, care for some boarding, combat involved?” Syken snaps to attention, saluting and shouting back “Sir! Can do, sir!” Andros looks back at Hermia, who’s a little concerned by Syken’s enthusiasm. Andros resumes peering at the enemy ship with his spyglass. Syken jogs up to the three of them and says, “Alright, Hermia, how are we getting over there?” Shuri opens her spellbook in one hand and says, “I may have an idea.” Andros lowers the spyglass and raises an eyebrow, but Hermia shoots him a ‘trust me on this’ look. Shuri opens her spellbook and makes a sign in the air. Both Hermia and Syken feel power surging through their legs as Shuri says “Simple jump boost spell. Upcasted a little to get us all the way there.” Hermia’s face lights up as she understands what Shuri is suggesting. Syken, on the other hand, frowns in confusion. “And then we’ll hit their gravity field and fall down the rest of the way. I like it. Nice work, darling.” Andros nods approvingly. Syken now gets it, saying “Damn, you ladies are quite the pair, aren’t you?” Andros retracts his spyglass and turns back to the group, saying. “You work well together, I see. Ship’s a Xichil dragonfly-class something or other. You know the drill, then, get aboard and hit whatever passes for their engines, disabling any combatants along the way.” Hermia and Syken nod, Hermia saying “Yup, seen it in training. Layout’s dead simple.” before looking over to Shuri. “All right, darling, ready for some action?” Shuri shuts her spellbook with a snap, reattatches it to its strap, and offers one hand to Hermia and one to Syken. “As I ever will be, dear. Let’s hold on to each other, so as not to get separated in the jump.” “Well, I suppose this is an unorthodox maneuver. Don’t worry, if nothing else the wind flowing between the air bubbles will keep us on the right path.” Syken nods his head ever so slightly, muttering to himself “Wow, that’s proper clever. Never thought of that.” Hermia takes Shuri’s hand anyway, as does Syken. She looks over at Andros. “How long have we got for this?” Andros shakes his head slightly. “Unfortunately, that’s up to Trazyn. Plane shift in nine minutes, so try and be back by then.” Hermia nods. “Well, they’re nearly overhead now, so let’s get moving. On three?” Shuri nods. Hermia counts down from three, and they all jump with all their strength straight upwards.

Shuri is enveloped by a rush of air, getting stronger as they keep getting higher. She feels herself being dragged by the arms and looks up to see Hermia and Syken ahead of her. Suddenly Shuri looses all sense of gravity and everything begins to spin around. She feels Syken’s hand torn from hers and desperately grips Hermia’s arm with both hands. It’s all she can do to keep herself from flailing wildly, like a kid who doesn’t know how to swim being thrown into water. She feels a second hand on hers and soon Hermia’s arms are around her waist, stabilising her. Despite Hermia’s mouth being right next to her ear, Hermia still has to yell over the wind. “Syken’s ahead of us! You got any feather falling?” Shuri fumbles for her spellbook, but it’s waving around in the wind and she can’t grab it. They continue barrelling towards the ship, which now looms above/below them, it’s main deck looking like an alarmingly small target at the center of four huge wing-like bright yellow shapes littered with light blue glyphs. Shuri feels a kick in the lower body and suddenly, for a terrifying moment both of them are spinning around and around in the wild current. Then she feels Hermia’s arms steady her once again and the two are facing feet-first toward the approaching ship. With some difficulty, Shuri finally forces her mind’s eye around so that they are falling down instead of up and finally grabs her spellbook. Just as she does so, she hears Hermia yelling in her ear again. “Any time now, darling!” Shuri closes her eyes and finds the weave just as turbulent as the air around her. She formulates a feather falling spell in her mind, and it comes together easily. She is just on the point of casting it when she opens her eyes and sees the approaching ship, seeming to envelop them in its dazzling wings. Shuri momentarily looses concentration as the hull races towards them, some primal instinct taking over. As Shuri struggles to regain focus, she wraps her arms around Hermia in return and steadies herself against Hermia’s strong body. The spell, still half formed in her mind, comes to her quickly and she feels her fall begin to slow. She opens her eyes only to see the bright surface of the craft only a few feet below her and has no time to break her fall. Instead she holds Hermia tighter and they both impact the ship with devastating force.

Shuri floats back to consciousness with the feeling of something cool and refreshing at her lips. Recognising the taste immediately, she gulps it down and immediately feels revitalised. Sitting up, she looks at Hermia, seeing her crouching down, an empty flask in hand. “Thanks for the healing potion, dear.” “Partly enclosed ships are always such a pain to board. Don’t get too comfortable yet, darling, Syken’s landed somewhere else.” Hermia pockets the flask and stands up, surveying the wreckage they’ve landed in. The hole they made in the hull shines a spotlight on them. Shuri gets up in turn and brushes off the splinters and sawdust covering her scarf. Hermia points down one of the narrow hallways and says “Engine’s that way. Syken’s probably at the actual deck of the ship, where we were supposed to land; quickest way takes us past the engine, and most of the ship to boot.” “After you, then, dear.” “As always. Keep your wits about you, we need to get to Syken as soon as possible.” And with that, Hermia sets off at a run down the hallway, managing to look graceful in spite of being six inches taller than the ceiling. Shuri follows suit, though somewhat less gracefully.

The pair make their way to the to deck as fast as possible, avoiding fights where possible and ending them quickly where not. Eventually they end up at the engine room. Hermia pommel strikes the one engineer tending to it and throws him against the wall, before sheathing her swords and leaning over the control console for the growling machine. “Goddess above, this a really old machine. Controls grav as well as propulsion. No way to shut it down nicely.” Shuri stands back, arms crossed, examining the machine, an unholy tangle of pipes, cables, belts, cogs and who knows what else, all vibrating at breakneck speeds. “This thing is something you find on second-rate haulers and scavs, not warships. I’m for blowing it and hot-footing to Syken.” “But then the crew’ll know we’re here. And given that we don’t even know for sure where Syken is, I don’t fancy navigating this ship in zero gravity if he’s not on the deck. It’s too risky.” Hermia sighs, looking down and flicking a few random levers and switches. “Damn, some of that gunpowder stuff would have been amazing here. Just set it up with a fuse and it blows in a few minutes.” Shuri grabs her spellbook and flicks through it, looking for a spell. “How about… delayed blast fireball?” Hermia stands up and looks back at Shuri, clapping her hands together. “Perfect! That way we can blow it whenever we want! By the Goddess, that spellbook has some amazing stuff in it.” Shuri flicks a thin yellow line into the depths of pipework and cabling. Hermia unsheathes her swords and takes off at a jog down another corridor, yelling over her shoulder, “This way, darling!” Shuri fastens her spellbook before following after her.

A few too-short corridors and a ladder or two later, the pair have their backs to the doorframe of the open bulkhead leading to the top deck. Hermia draws her swords and nods at Shuri, who says, “Right, gravity’s going to hell soon as I blow the engine. What’s our move?” Hermia risks a quick glance around the door. “Shit, they’ve got Syken tied up to something, can’t see what.” “On the up side, he won’t go floating away when we blow the engine.” “Ah, true. I say we’ve got the best chance if we blow the engine and rush in, incapacitate the crew as fast as possible, pull Syken, and get out the same way we came in.” “I can blow half of them into space with some winds as well - how about it?” “You’re a real genius sometimes, darling, did you know that? All right. On my mark, detonate the engine and we breach.” Shuri nods and swivels around, bracing for loss of gravity. Hermia does the same. “Three…” “Two…” “One…” An explosion rocks the entire fabric of the ship. “Go!” Shuri and Hermia both simultaneously grab onto the doorframe, feeling the gravity weaken. Moving symmetically, they flip through the door, each bracing against the wall once through to arrest their momentum. Shuri closes her eyes, spellbook in hand, and begins drawing a glyph in the air before her. Hermia readies her swords in anticipation of attacks.

Despite the chaos on deck as people start floating upwards away from any handholds, the arrival of two elves doesn’t go unnoticed by the soldiers of the dragonfly. A helmeted dwarf, beard floating around his head, points in their direction and yells, “ALL HANDS! THE ELVEN HERETICS HAVE BEEN SPOTTED! DESTROY THEM!” He follows this up by launching himself at Shuri and Hermia as fast as he can go, headfirst. Any soldier clinging to a handhold immediately pivots in their direction, before launching towards them at a similar fashion. Hermia dodges the dwarf’s frontal assault, deftly inflicting three sword wounds on his back as he passes. She glances at Shuri, still with eyes closed. “Shuri! How about those winds, darling?” Shuri opens her eyes momentarily. “Sorry, dear, the weave is extremely chaotic here. Must have been a lot of glitter in that engine.” A tiefling swings down from above and swipes at Shuri, tail wrapped around a handhold, only to get shoved back by Hermia. Hermia sees the five soldiers who’d been interrogating Syken flying at them and raises her weapons. The foremost of them carries a long halberd, pointed straight at her face. In the corner of her eyes, Hermia also sees the dwarf and the tiefling bracing to once again beginning their assault.

Just as the halberd is feet from Hermia’s face, a blue light blazes from behind her and a sudden blast of air hurls the five soldiers spinning off into space. Hermia glances over her shoulder, seeing the fading form of a glyph in the air and Shuri snapping her spellbook closed. She yells, “You get the tiefling! I’ve got the dwarf!” And pushes off in the direction of the dwarf without waiting for a response. Shuri, still unsteady without solid ground, grabs a second handhold and shoves herself towards the tiefling. But she looks up and only sees empty space ahead of her. Immediately off-kilter, she scrambles frantically, waving her arms around to try and find where the tiefling had gone. Soon she sees the tiefling, holding on to something on the deck. At this distance Shuri can’t tell what, as she drifts upwards/downwards away from the ship. She grabs hold of her spellbook and flips to a familiar page.

Hermia withdraws her sword from the chest of the dwarf and looks around for Syken and Shuri. She spots Syken immediately, tied to some incomprehensible control array. Her eyes widen in horror as she processes the other person holding onto the controls - the tiefling, just grabbing on and struggling to position themselves in the zero gravity. “Oh, Shit,” Hermia mutters to herself, before sweeping the sky to try and find Shuri. Her heart starts beating faster in the moments it takes her to locate Shuri, floating high above the ship. Making a snap decision, Hermia launches herself towards Syken and the tiefling. She’s barreling across the deck when she hears the all-too-familiar sound of crackling lightning and reflexively stabs her sword into the deck, bringing herself to an immediate stop inches before the blinding beam annihilates the tiefling, the entire control array, and three floors of decking.

Shuri snaps shut her spellbook and slings it over her shoulder. She looks around, and it’s not until a moment or two later that her spatial processing kicks in properly and she realises that she’s a hundred feet away from the ship. Shuri’s heart starts to beat faster and faster, a primal fear setting in, not unlike the feeling of beeing deep underwater. She forces her eyes closed and feels the wind on her skin. She feels the spell come to her, as it had before, and inscribes the flight glyph upon the air. Immediately she feels the winds calm and opens her eyes. Her heart calms in turn as she flies down to the deck of the ship.

Hermia blinks the light out of her eyes and immediately pushes off her sword towards Syken, hope and fear tangling inside her. He, at least, seems to be in on peice, and Hermia checks him over, verifying a pulse and the presence of all limbs. It’s the smell of singed clothing and flesh that alerts Hermia to the large burn down the middle of his back, where it had been pressed against the controls. Muttering an oath, Hermia reaches for her healing potion, only to find nothing there. Swearing louder this time, she looks around for Shuri, who should also be carrying one.

Shuri has a disorientating moment as she arrives at the deck and her ‘up’ is rather forcefully spun a hundred and eighty degrees, not for the first time in the last few minutes. She immediately sees Hermia kneeling next to an unconscious Syken and rushes over. “How is he?” Hermia starts, almost imperceptibly. “Oh, thank the goddess, you came to your senses up there, darling.” She lets out a breath in relief. “I need your healing potion, quickly.” Shuri feels for the potion on her belt and hands the large vial to Hermia. Hermia immediately uncorks it and administers all of it to Syken, then sits back on her heels. “You really need to be more careful with your lightning, darling. That was far too close.” It’s only after Hermia’s suggestion that Shuri finally notices the smell of burnt flesh. “Oh, Fuck. I… I didn’t see, I was too far away… shit. How bad is it?” “You got lucky, it’s not too bad, just a fairly surface burn. Nothing we can’t fix.” Now it’s Shuri’s turn to breath a sigh of relief. “Thank the goddess. Let’s get out of here soon as, then.” “Amen, darling.” Shuri opens her spellbook and grabs a small, sparking ring off the page, before throwing it forward, where it expands into a gateway of psychedelic colours. “This is going to be a rough ride, with the state of the weave here. We should all keep a good hold on each other.” Hermia gently places Syken’s hand over her shoulder and lifts him up. “It’ll be a lot easier to carry this guy with both of us anyway.” Shuri places Syken’s other arm over her shoulder, and together they carry him to the portal. “Ready?” “Yeah.” The three of them step into the portal, and it envelops their entire field of vision. The colours begin to swirl around them. Shuri focuses her mind on the Verdant growth, anchoring herself with the two people around her against the chaotic assault of the weave. An indeterminable moment passes. And then the wheeling colours fade to the darkness of wildspace, followed the rush of the deck towards their faces.

Part seven

Hermia gets up slowly, having had the wind knocked out of her for the third time in one day. She looks over at Shuri, once again unconcious. She manages to mutter “Wizards can’t take anything, can they?” and then sees Syken kneeling above her. He takes out a medicine kit and begins to stabilise her. “Thanks for the soft landing, Lieutenant. Old Archmage over there is about to do… whatever it is he’s doing to Lyria. A few minutes later and it would have been too late. Do you need medicine?” Hermia stands up slowly and checks that she still has all her equipment. “Nah, I got a second wind. Focus on Shuri.” Syken looks back at Shuri, and begins to methodically pack up his medicinal kit. “She’s unconscious but not in imminent danger; that’s all I can do with this stuff. Cleric’ll be over soon.” Hermia notes the presence of all six of her daggers, before looking back over at Syken. “So when did you wake up? And why not earlier?” Syken shrugs. “Not sure. The healing potion definitely worked; best guess is that I was hurt badly enough that it took whatever magic’s in the potion a while to fix me up.” “Never heard of a healing potion working like that before. Usually they just work immediately.” “Well, Shuri did say that the weave was very messed up, maybe that’s why.” Hermia looks up at the gas giant above them. “Thanks for the help, kid. Good job. So when’s this big spell gonna ha-” Hermia is silenced by the sight of all the stars in the sky bending towards Lyria, pulled inexorably closer to it. At the same time, Lyria seems to contract, its surface rivers convulsing into fractal patterns across its decreasing surface. Soon bands of colour become indistinguishable and Lyria, now half it’s original size, becomes as smooth as a turqouise-coloured ball bearing. The stars continue to fall towards Lyria even as it continues to shrink, though they never collide. The turqouise colour eventually disappears, fading to a black distinguishable from surrounding wildspace only by its complete lack of stars. Lyria is gone, replaced only by a void which permits not even light through its borders.

Hermia looks down from the newly created black hole and notices Lyria’s twin moons just emerging from the far side of the void. She watches them in horror as they spiral closer and closer to the hole in sky, and in mere moments they are enveloped by the void, passing into it without even the slightest disturbance and leaving no trace of their exisence. It is only then that she looks over the rest of the sky, still speechless, and sees that the Verdant Growth is also, like the stars, being pulled towards the black hole. She then registers, in the corner of her mind, that someone is shouting at her. “Hermia! Hermia! Am I going to have to punch you or something?” Hermia finally snaps out of her reverie and looks down at Syken, who is kneeling at Shuri’s feet. “We need to move her, before we plane shift! Gimme a hand!” “Right, right, of course - sorry,” Hermia says with a shake of her head, before moving over and placing her arms under Shuri’s. “Syken, where to?” “Anywhere inside. Your room is closest.” The two of them easily lift Shuri’s light body and quickly move her into their cabin at the aft of the ship. They can still see the black hole through their window. Hermia sits on the bed next to Shuri and holds her hand, while Syken stands back, hand on his hip. “Good thing we’re inside now. It’s about to get very windy outside.” The quiet, ever-present melody of the ship’s engine begins to rise, accompanied by a low-frequency bass only detectable through the vibrations of the ship itself. The sound of the engine slowly crescendos to a deafening whine as the vibrations intensify, creating a combination of overwhelming, oppresive sound which feels like it can unravel the very fabric of space. And indeed it does, with everything suddenly getting farther and farther away, hands receding along arms, everything stretching out into infinity -

And then the noise stops. For the smallest of intervals there is silence, only to be broken moments later by the crash of water as the Verdant Growth splashes down in the Astral Sea. But this isn’t the calm sea that ferries vessels between the stars - this is the raging storm found around all sizeable gravitational bodies. Both Hermia and Syken are immediately wrong-footed by the ship listing hard to starboard. Amid the sharp screeching of furniture sliding across the floor, Hermia dives across the bed, her body across Shuri’s, and yells “Syken! What the hell is this?” Syken is miraculously still standing among the chaos, but has slid down to the window and yells back “Gravity generator must be down! The Blue Hyacinth had something similar once!” Hermia begins to pick up Shuri, looking around for somewhere at least a bit stable. But as she akwardly swivels around, the ship begins to lean even further. Hermia curses and tries to get to the corner of the room, sliding down the floor, now nearly at a forty-five degree angle. Syken has to dodge out of the way of another chair sliding towards him.

Soon the distinctive engine whine begins again, somehow rising above the cacophony of the sea. It seems to pierce the entire fabric of the ship. Syken registers the noise and his eyes widen as he comes to a realisation. “Oh, shit! They’ve redirected power from gravity to the engines! They’re going to fly us out of this!” Hermia, carrying Shuri in a fireman’s lift and wedged in the corner of the room, doesn’t get it. “The hell are you talking about? You can’t fly in the astral! Especially not in a storm like this!” Syken begins to untangle himself from the mess of chair legs and tabletops now occupying the space below the window and tentatively steps across them towards Hermia. “I dunno, maybe they jacked the power supply or something!” The whine keeps, somehow, getting even louder, to the point at which Syken instinctively covers his ears. Hermia tries to cover Shuri’s with her one free hand, as her head throbs from the noise. The ship shakes as it is pummeled by another wave, and then another one.

And then the ship starts, slowly, degree by degree, to level out, the crashing of waves replaced by the swoosh of the mist flowing off the ship. Hermia keeps firmly hold of Shuri as she tentaively steps away from the corner, still wincing from the sound of the engine. Syken deftly hops off the pile of furniture he’d been standing on and looks out of the window. A gasp escapes from his lips as he looks down and sees, a hundred feet below them, the roiling walls of a whirlpool so impossibly deep that it appears to go on forever. He looks over his shoulder at Hermia, who is tenderly laying Shuri back down on the bed (which, fortunately, was bolted to the floor), and says “By the goddess, they actually did it. I hope it lasts long enough to get us out of this whirlpool.” Hermia, still keeping an arm over Shuri, looks out of the window, but she can’t see anything other than the white haze passing for a sky. “Syken, are we actually flying?” “Yeah - I can hardly believe it!” “If only Shuri had gotten to see this…” “Make sure you tell her about it when she comes to, then. Hey, look! We’re almost past the whirlpool!” The edge of the whirlpool finally appears, the grey sea beyond incongruously calm. Syken cranes his neck, getting as close to the window as he can, and sees the edge path beneath the ship. “Thank the goddess, we’re through! Now we just need to- ” Syken is cut off by a massive shock ripping through the ship and throwing him from his feet. Hermia once again finds herself holding desperately on to the bed frame, pressed against Shuri. Suddenly the gravity disappears and they’re in free fall, and the entire contents of the room are floating. Moments later the ship is again rocked, but this time by a colossal impact with the sea itself. The ship, even, for a few hypnotic seconds, seems to sink beneath the waves, revealing a glimpse of the depths, before emerging with a great splash on the surface. The two elves barely even have time to catch their breaths before the ship again starts vibrating, transmitting its intent through its entire substance. Soon everything was receding and getting farther and farther away and tearing at the seams and it’s all coming apart -

And then the ship emerged back into wildspace. Over a few long seconds, the whine of the engines dies back and silence reasserts itself. Hermia rolls over and basks in it, relishing the calm after so much chaos, and listening to Shuri’s quiet breaths. Syken slowly gets to his feet and staggers to a chair poking out of the wreckage. Minutes pass, each one stretched out by the calm as Hermia’s brain slowly shifts down gears, finally processing the past few hours.

Part eight

Some time later, Hermia sits up, taking stock of the wrecked room. As she pans her focus, she takes in the slouched form of Syken, who’s fallen asleep in his chair, the debris still littering the floor, and Shuri’s unconcious form, before looking through the window and seeing only the familiar sky of stars which had been their companion on the long journey out to Lyria. Wondering where they are, Hermia gets up and walks over to the window, squinting to try and find Lyria somewhere in the field of glistening lights. It takes her a minute, but she does eventually spot a hole in the sky the size of a gold piece. Hermia tries to work out their distance, but the numbers just keep floating around and not lining up. Her train of thought is interrupted by a simple three-tap knock on the door - reality is calling.

The door swings open as Syken rubs the sleep from his eyes, before recognising the figure in the doorway and belatedly standing to attention. He barks a quick “Captain! Sir!“. Hermia swivels around, simply saying “Hello, Captain. How’s the situation?” Andros nods towards Syken and he relaxes. Andros walks into the room, closing the door behind himself, before surveying the wreckage covering the room. As he does so, he says “Under control, thank you. Most of the crew are still putting out fires, of both the physical and metaphorical kind - we took quite the beating.” Syken follows with “Your orders, Sir?” “Syken, go and tell the cleric that she’s needed here. Hermia, my apologies that Shuri hasn’t been seen to yet; Lilia has been somewhat busy.” Syken walks out of the door, letting it swing shut on its own. Hermia replies “No apology required, captain; I’m sure she has been doing essential work. Will we be heading back to Sylvia now?” “Yes, that is the plan. We lost quite a lot of air in the scuffle, but we’ve enough to get us back. Plenty of time for rest and recuperation, which both of you look like you sorely need.” “I won’t deny that, captain. And was the operation successful?” “We don’t know for sure, but ballpark estimates from the magic detectors are that at least nine tenths of their fleet was destroyed. Though take that with a grain of salt - it’s very possible that whatever Archmage Trazyn was up to interfered. We also don’t know of the fate of the giant ship reported by Miss Shuri.” “If it’s as powerful as Shuri thought it was, then it might have been able to escape gravity - of course, if it was far enough away, and if it was in wildspace.” “Perhaps she will be able to illuminate the situation once she returns to us.” “I hope so.” Andros turns around at the sound of another knock at the door, and pulls it open, waving the cleric Lilia inside, with Syken close behind.

Lilia is momentarily taken aback by the destruction of the room, but says nothing before moving to the side of the bed. As she places her palms on Shuri’s chest, Hermia begins to shift some of the splintered debris still covering the floor of the room, soon uncovering a stool and offering it to Lilia as she works. Syken follows suit, and begins to tidy as well, salvaging the remains of the desk and piling it next to the door. Andros looks over the now-active room, arms folded, and says “I’ll be off now - find me in navigation if you need me.”. Before Syken can even manage an “Aye, Sir!”, he’s off, door swishing shut behind him.

A half hour passes, with everyone in the room loosing themselves in the meditative calm of simple tasks. It’s only when Syken arrives back from the incinerator after delivering another armful of debris that Lilia finally speaks up. “That should do. She’s asleep for now, but she should wake up soon.” Lilia stands up, one hand still clasped around her holy symbol at her neck. “Hermia, make sure that Shuri spends the next few weeks getting some bed rest. Nothing fancy, no sparring.” Hermia sets down the chair she’d been shifting and strides over to the bed, standing next to Lilia with her hands on her hips. “Well, I’ll certainly try. Thank you so much, Lilia - I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” Lilia modestly lowers her eyes. “Ah, it’s nothing, really, just some simple healing magic.” Hermia claps Lilia on the shoulder, causing her to flinch slightly. “It’s more than I could do, that’s for sure. Thanks again, cleric.” The low hum of the engines starts up again, breaking the akward silence. Syken says “We moving again so soon? Captain must really want to get back.” He glances towards Lilia. “Oh, and someone is asking for you down in crew quarters, Lilia.” Lilia picks up her scriptures and clutches them to her chest. “I’d better be off then. I’ll pay Shuri a visit in a few days at the latest. Take care of her, Hermia.” And then she’s off, walking quickly with her head down. Syken looks back at the closed door for a moment before walking over to the window, seeing the stars move around them as the Verdant Growth sets off for Silvia. Hermia joins him, and they watch the stars pass in silence.

A cough interrupts the serene calm. Both Hermia and Syken look around, and see Shuri beginning to sit up. Hermia rushes over to the side of the bed and kneels down, saying “Darling, you’re awake! Easy there, easy.” Syken walks over, placing a hand on Hermia’s shoulder and saying, “Well, I’ll leave you to it, Lieutenant. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.” Hermia looks up at him. “Thanks, Syken. For all the help and everything.” Syken nods, closing the door behind himself on the way out. Hermia looks back over at Shuri, who clears her throat, and says in a still-hoarse voice, “He’s a good kid, that one.” “Yeah. I think so to, darling.” “So, dear, what did I miss? Did you heroically carry me away from an explosion or two?” Shuri manages a small smile. Hermia returns it in kind. “After a fashion.” Hermia recounts what happened to Lyria, and then the events in the Astral Sea. Halfway through, she pulls up one of the remaining chairs and begins gesturing enthusiastically as she explains how the ship got airborne, and how she might have seen monsters in the depths of the Sea, and Shuri realises that she would happily just spend days watching Hermia. Hermia finishes a particularly outlandish anecode about her heroically protecting Shuri as the ship crashed into the waves when she realises that she’s been speaking for some time, and abruptly stops, before saying, “Goddess, I’ve been talking for far to long, you must be bored stiff, darling.” “Nonsense, dear. I could listen to you for many more hours. Though, that thing you were just talking about does seem quite fun, if I may say so.” Hermia thinks back, before she realises what Shuri means and her eyes light up. “Do you now? Well, it is- ” Hermia looks over to where the ship clock normally was, above the desk opposite the bed, only to find it missing. “…Wait, what time actually is it? Sorry, darling, I’ve completely lost track of time. Speaking of which, you must be famished, let me go and fetch you something from the galley.” “What do you mean, speaking of which? But you’re right, I am quite hungry. And tired. Maybe we’ll have to save the fun for another night.” “Of course, darling. The anticipation’s half the fun anyway, isn’t it?” Hermia winks, before heading to the galley. Shuri looks out of the window, seeing the stars slowly shift as the Verdant Growth gets closer to Sylvia.

Hermia arrives back moments later, carrying two trays of food. She sets one of them down on the desk before walking over to Shuri and helping her sit up and get the tray resting on her lap. Then she grabs her own and returns to her seat. Shuri is just picking up her knife when she looks back at the window and says, “So where is Lyria anyway? We’ve been too far away to see it since I woke up, haven’t we?” Hermia isn’t facing the window and has to crane her neck over her shoulder. Eventually she gives up, failing to get a clear picture. She shrugs and says “I can’t say for sure, but best guess? On it’s way to the sun.” They both look down at their trays and eat in silence for a few moments. Hermia is the next to speak up. “So, what do you think we’re going to do? If this thing really is unstoppable, then, way I see it, the best option is to try and get as many people up in space as possible, and run for it. Find a new homeworld.” Shuri thinks on this before replying. “Mmm. But there’s no way we’d be able to build enough ships to evacuate an entire planet in the time we’ve got, dear. And its easy for wildspacers to say ‘just live on a ship’, but most people have lives to live on the surface. They won’t want to go.” “Right on both counts, unfortunately. But I’d rather save some people than no-one.” “There must be some way to stop Lyria. Trazyn wouldn’t have done what he did if he didn’t think he could protect Sylvia - it’s his home too. I won’t consign half a planet to oblivion.” “Darling, it’s not your fault, and for all my ignorance of magic, I doubt you could stop a black hole by yourself.” “Then I’ll join Trazyn, convince him to let me help him.” “Now that seems like it might have more of a chance. But I won’t place all my eggs in once basket, so to speak, certainly not a magic basket. If we get High Command on side, we could evacuate most of the planet.” “But not all.” “That’s why we’ve got you, darling. We can do both.” Another pause as both elves are lost in thought. Shuri eventually looks up from an empty tray and says “I think I need to sleep on it. Everything makes more sense in the morning.” Hermia picks up Shuri’s tray and stacks it on top of hers, placing both on the desk. “Agreed. It is late, we should both get some rest.”

The journey back to Silvia is long and uneventful as everyone contemplates what to do in the face of the imminent arrival of Lyria. Out on the edge of the system, almost invisible against the dark sky, angular forms circle around the black hole, miniscule by comparison. Their circles overlap and they begin to come together, a swarm of shards all moving in the same direction.

Act Three

Part nine

Shuri closed the book and dropped it unceremoniously on the pile next to her on the floor. She buried her head in her hands, before dragging them down over her eyes and leaning back against the bookcase she’s sitting against. She feels like her brain’s absorbed so much information that any more will simply bounce off. Looking at the angle of the shadows, it’s near the time Shuri normally considers ‘evening’ in the perpetual twilight of the tower of Trazyn. She rootles through the pile of books and eventually finds her own spellbook, and notes down some useful spells she found, before halfheartedly slinging it at her side and ambling upstairs to her room.

Two months of combing the tower’s library had yielded nothing apart from filling the pages of Shuri’s spellbook with oddly specific spells of little use or utility. In hindsight, this wasn’t very surprising; after all, there was no precent for the doom facing them, and certainly none in the books contained within this tower. Trazyn had been frustratingly absent, closing himself in the top of his tower for days at a time and permitting no insight into his state of mind when he deigned to grace the rest of his tower with his presence. Shuri was no closer to a solution, and found herself constantly distracted with memories and dreams of the giant spelljammer she’d felt below Lyria. The few ideas she did have were hamstrung by the inability to test them outside wildspace.

Which is why her heart leapt with anticipation rather than apprehension at the sudden appearance of a tornado at their door. Too many days had melted together like the glyphs on the pages of the many tomes now piled on the floor of Trazyn’s library. Now was the time for action, to put what few ideas she had into practice. Spellbook at hip and scarf over shoulder, and Shuri is already out the door and seeing what’s happening.

Standing below the tower, she saw the outline of a ship through the buffeting winds. It was smaller than the Verdant Growth, and seemed to be still descending. Moments later it touched down on six spindly legs, the wind subsiding to reveal a very flat-looking ship, as if it only had one floor of cabins below the deck. Not only that, but it was wide, too. Not as wide as the length of the Verdant Growth, but still a good forty meters, despite it’s mere ten-meter or so height.

A figure emerged from the front part of the ship, a door appearing somehow out of the otherwise smooth surface. A billowing cloak betrayed Hermia’s identity immediately and both her and Shuri run towards each other on sight, embracing tightly in the shadow of the tower. “Darling, it’s been too long!” They both chuckle, before turning and looking at the tower. “So to what do I owe the pleasure, dear? Fleet building taking a back seat?” “Not quite - we’ve got a new problem on our doorstep.” Shuri starts, immediately thinking of the spelljammer haunting her dreams. Hermia sees her reaction and nods. “It seems you already know what I’m getting at, then.” “I… Yeah. The big ship. It’s been forcefully occupying my thoughts for a long time.” “Not something to easily forget about, I imagine. So far we only know of their presence because a seaskipper out of Aaven-12 managed to escape the destruction through some extremely risky plane shifts.” Shuri turns around, looking at the landed ship. “You don’t mean to tell me…” “I introduce to you the ENS Survivorship Bias, darling. Formerly the Seventh Heaven.” Hermia makes a grand arm-wave. “Freshly renamed and refitted for breaking atmosphere as a test run of our large-scale evacuation plans. Bigger on the inside since she seems, especially since the technicians came up with some extremely creative uses of pocket dimensions.” “Hell of a promotion. You’re going to get everyone off Sylvia with these?” “That’s the plan, at the moment.” “Your production facilities must be going into overdrive in that case.” “Oh, darling, they’ve been at full capacity since we got back with the news.” “High Command just believed you, like that? No hand-waving, no wait-and-see?” “Belived Captain Andros, more like. How about your end, darling? Any breakthroughs?” “I’ve got some ideas, long shots all. Been itching to test them out. As for the old man himself, honestly? No idea.” “Really?” “He’s been up in his hideout in the top of the tower, for days at a time. If he’s got plans, I’m not a part of them.” “Ah well, he never talked much anyway. Time’s of the essence, darling, so will he be coming or not?” “…I guess I’ll go and see? I thought he’d know about this, like he did last time. Might be a little awkward.” Shuri turns and walks back to the tower, Hermia close behind.

Soon they find themselves at the door of the spiral staircase leading up to the tower’s peak, Hermia leaning casually against the wall. Shuri knocks three times, as was customary. Seconds drag into minutes and Hermia comments dryly, “Well, you were certainly right about it being awkward, darling.” Shuri shushes her, and draws a small glyph in the air. “Not even detecting any magic up there. Usually the weave around here is flowing pretty strongly.” She frowns and thinks a little more. “Hasn’t been down in at least three days, too. Hard to say, since the days tend to bleed together when you’re doing as much reading as I am.” Hermia unfolds her arms and says, “Well, maybe we should bust in and have some words with the old man, then.” “Dear, as much as I’d like to do that, he’s both an archmage and my master, and on top of that, I’d be incredibly surprised if he didn’t have some countermeasures in place against unwanted intrusion. You’re normally the one warning me against excess risk.” “Be that as it may, we’re on the clock here, darling. Besides, didn’t you just fail to detect any magic? What if something’s happened to him?” Shuri turns back to the door and reconsiders. “… All right, fine. Now how do we get in?” A page in Shuri’s spellbook provides the answer, and the bolt clicks back. “I guess those books might have had some useful stuff in them.” Hermia gestures to the door. “After you, darling.”

Shuri heaves open the door and begins to ascend the cramped staircase. It had been many years since she last was here, and the sense of scale was all off, reminding her of the dragonfly ship. Hermia stooped through the door behind her, saying “How short is your master, anyway? Could never really tell through his hats and robes,” “Must be pretty short - Can’t say I ever thought about it before,” replied Shuri over her shoulder. The staircase continued for a disarmingly short period of time, and the pair find themselves in the peak of the tower only moments later. Shuri instinctively waves aside the pages eagerly floating up to her, and her eyes alight on the pile of robes in the middle of the floor, unmoving and covered in loose parchment and open tomes. Shuri rushes over to it’s edge.

Hermia stands up out of the door and looks around, her mouth agape. “Holy… By the goddess, looks like someone shattered a library, darling. What happened here?” Shuri sweeps pages off Trazyn’s limp form and begins unfolding him from the fabric. “Not a clue, dear. Our best answer lies on the floor in front of us.” Hermia leans over Shuri’s shoulder. She eventually lands upon a face within the fabric, small and deeply creased with age. She places two fingers at his neck and breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank the goddess, he’s still alive.” Hermia stands back up and folds her arms. “Well, maybe we’ll find out what happened here, then.” “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get him somewhere comfortable first. A hand?” Hermia crouches down next to Shuri, surveying the pile of fabric. “Do I just grab a handful, or what?” “Uhhh… Yeah?” They both gather up as much fabric as they can and hoist Trazyn up and down the narrow stairs, with some difficulty. Eventually they lay him down on one of the large chairs in the library, not wishing to intrude on his own rooms.

Shuri and Hermia stand next to each other awkwardly, neither wanting to make the first move. “Goddess, this feels weird. Do you think he’ll be all right, darling?” “I’m no cleric, but I think so. Unfortunately healing potions aren’t something we normally keep around here. I should probably do something about that.” “We’ve got some stocked in the Survivorship Bias for sure, want me to go and grab them?” “Yeah, good plan.” Hermia walks outside at a brisk pace. Shuri turns back to Trazyn, noticing for the first time quite how small his form is, barely five and a half feet tall. She casts her mind back into her past, but in every picture Trazyn is a peripheral figure, guiding her subliminally with messages from inside his perpetually billowing robes. She gradually surfaces to see a hand emerging from the fabric and feels a familiar, hoarse whisper in her ear.

“Shuri, my wondrous pupil. I fear my time nears its end; you must confront this menace yourself. My frail body cannot stand the rigours of wildspace travel much longer. You may consider this your final test, of sorts - I shall look forward to your return.” It takes Shuri a long few seconds to marshal the thoughts and feelings racing around in her head enough to muster a reply, not even bothering to return the message. “I-I… Shit. Yes, I’ll… I’ll do my best, master.”

Hermia strides through the door, a large healing potion in hand. Upon seeing Shuri on the verge of tears, she immediately places the potion on a side table and takes her hand. “Darling, what’s got you so shaken up?” Shuri simply shakes her head, saying, “I’ll explain later, dear. Trazyn won’t be joining us.” Hermia nods. “Anything else you need to do here?” “Should be all fine. Last time it was just me and my spellbook, after all.” “Off we go, then.” Hermia looks searchingly at Trazyn before leaving. Shuri checks her spellbook strap, and says, “You’d better still be here when I get back, master.” Almost imperceptably, Trazyn nods. Shuri turns around, and closes her eyes for a moment before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Part ten

Sylvia loomed over the deck of the Survivorship Bias like a watchful mother. The deck’s size and shape reminded Shuri of the dragonfly ship, a memory feeling at once like yesterday and a hundred years ago. Soon Sylvia shrunk to nothingness and the bright lines of the stars illuminated the next days’ sparring matches. They provided welcome occupation and a clarity of mind that had been sorely lacking in both elves’ lives since their return from Lyria.

All too soon, the star-lines receded back to points and they arrived at the elven fleet’s high command on the Valerax twins. Shuri and Hermia watched it approach from a bench just below the bridge, both exhausted after an intense sparring session. Hermia sees the barely distinguishable forms of the two planets, then looks to Shuri and asks, “Have you ever actually seen the Valerax twins, darling?” “No, never - we passed them by on the way to Aaven-something or other on the Verdant Growth. I heard that High Command was around here, right?” “Ah, well, I won’t spoil the surprise.” “Oh, now you’ve got me excited, dear.” “Only a few more minutes and we’ll get the view. Small ships like this are the best.”

The two planets get larger and larger, becoming the size of a silver piece. As they approached, the closer of the two seemed to eclipse the farther. Shuri leans forwards and asks Hermia, “So which one is HQ actually on? Lilac or Amber Valerax?” “Wait and see, darling - I promise it’ll be worth the wait.” Shuri sighs and slouches back on the bench, leaning her head on Hermia’s shoulder and watching the planets approach. A twist of the wheel and the Survivorship Bias swung around to the side, the perspective shifts so drastic that it forced the entire scene into unreality in Shuri’s mind. She gasps as the stream of stone and debris linking the two planets together is revealed, an artery slowly disintegrating Amber Valerax and moving it onto Lilac Valerax. Its scale is unfathomable, the width larger than some Sylvian continents. And yet the Survivorship Bias keeps moving towards that river of rock. Hermia chuckles, and says, “This never gets old.” Shuri looks up at her. “What?” She sits up and looks forward. “Oh, there’s no way-” The Survivorship Bias kept getting closer and closer to the pillar, and then suddenly, everything seemed to slow down, and the spelljammer deftly maneuvered between two asteroid-sized planet chunks, underneath one, around the side of another, and over a few more, and then, it seemed, they had reached a quiet spot. Hermia looked down from the spectacle and over at Shuri. “Pick your jaw up off the floor, darling. Welcome to the Elven Imperial Navy High Command headquarters, Valerax Point Alpha.”

As the Survivorship Bias glided into its bay, vertically above several similar seaskippers in a hollowed-out semicircle the height of the asteroid which constituted HQ’s main body. A small dome atop the asteroid, just visible from their position atop the stack of ships, was the only indication that this might be more than just a shipyard. As Hermia walked down the spelljammer’s boarding stairs and jumped onto the asteroid proper, she spied a familiar face leaning against a stack of crates in the docks. “Syken! How’s it going? Andros send you to meet me?” “Going smoothly, Captain. Shuri! It’s been a while, never thought I’d see you in HQ of all places.” Shuri hops down onto the asteroid and walks over to Syken and Hermia, slowly taking in the scale of everything. This was more ships than she’d ever seen in one place, way more than the supply depot that the Verdant Growth had dropped by. She could feel the pulsing of the weave, the heartbeat of the asteroid as it drew on the energy to sustain itself. “Hey, darling. We need to get going, Andros is waiting for us down in the long-range detection department.” Shuri returns to herself and shakes her head slightly. “Oh, I see. Goddess, this place must eat up so much Glitter.” “You’re certainly right about that,” Syken replies. “It’s a ridiculous quantity - you should see some of the big boats come in with the shipments from the Aaven mines.” The three begin walking into the depths of the asteroid, passing down long, bland corridors lit by the soft blue light of eternal flames, past storerooms, crew quarters, and labs, down three flights of stairs and finally emerging into a low-ceilinged but wide room filled with pipeworks, carts of glitter, control consoles, and many, many more arcane devices. A small crew of elves tended the machines, performing tasks inscrutable to both Shuri and Hermia. Weaving around the consoles they see at the far end of the room a large, round table studded with glowing lights of many colours. Several figures are at the table, leaning over it and pointing at the lights. Drawing closer, Hermia notices the familiar figure of Zakaret before she recognises Andros’s face. Soon the three of them are standing at the table; Shuri surveys the unfamiliar faces and finds no purchase on the masks of military competence and efficiency.

Andros looks up to the table and betrays a slight simle. “Welcome to Valerax HQ, ladies. I hope your welcome has been amicable and your journey smooth.” Hermia salutes, and replies, “Yes, sir. Our journey was uneventful, thank you. What news?” “Straight to the point, as usual, captain. Unfortunately we don’t have a good idea on the supercruiser’s whereabouts, no more than what you last knew.” “No luck with the long-range, then?” “Even our long-range isn’t that long compared to the distances at play here. The techs have been doing an admirable job amplifying its detection, but just putting more glitter in can only do so much. That’s why Shuri’s here - perhaps she can offer some insight, having had the closest previous encounter.” Andros nods at Shuri and eyes turn to her. “Uhm, well, I suppose so… I can try and find it again, I guess? I’m not really sure what I can do when none of my magic has a range much larger than this room, let alone wildspace kind of distances.” “So that’s where our trump card comes in. This time, it’s a magic amplifier of sorts - consumes glitter to massively increase the range and power of spells, making them useful in spelljammer-to-spelljammer combat. Or in our case, asteroid-to-spelljammer.” Shuri frowns and thinks for a good few moments, considering her response. “Hmmm… Channeling that much weave is very dangerous. How’d you deal with that?” Andros looks over at one of the blank-faced military people. “Rina?” She nods and explains in an even tone. “Simply put, we found that specific materials combined with some well-placed antimagic field glyphs and a lot of glitter can kind of channel weave. In testing it’s allowed simple spells like fireball to be cast on the scale of ships.” “Well, detect magic is a very simple spell, so it should work. Not sure how I feel about being the navy’s test dummy, though.” Andros raises an eyebrow at this remark. “I don’t think I need to remind you, Shuri, of the danger posed by this supercruiser, whatever it is. Can you do it?” Shuri inclines her head ever so slightly in a mock bow. “My most sincere apologies for being flippant, my good sir. Yes, I can do it, but I’ll need a good night’s sleep beforehand.” “Well that you shall certainly have, young lady. I’m sure Hermia would be delighted to show you to your room.”

Shuri sits on the Hermia’s bed, then lies backwards, her long hair trailing off the far side. Hermia perches on the edge her trunk in the corner of the small room. “This all a captain gets these days, dear? Shame, really. This bed could do with being a little bigger.” “Space is at premium here, darling, so we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got. Not that I mind being a little… cosy, of course.” “Oh, me neither, dear. So what do you think of Andros’s crazy plan?” “I’m worried about your safety, darling.” Hermia stands and paces around, gesturing passionately. “As always,” Shuri says with a slight eye roll. “It’s an insane, poorly tested arcane contraption. And to cap it all off, I have no idea about the risks involved because I don’t know shit about the weave!” Hermia sighs heavily and falls back on to the bed next to Shuri, then rolls over to face her. “Look, darling, if you want a good night’s sleep, this bed is manifestly too small. Your room isn’t even that far.” “But then we wouldn’t get to have fun tonight, would we? I’m far to nervous to actually fall asleep right now anyway, so don’t go worrying about my sleep, dear.” Shuri also rolls over, her face now inches from Hermia’s, and she leans in for a kiss. It lasts a long time.

Hermia wakes up to the toll of the bell indicating the start of the morning cycle, as she always does. Immediately she feels the emptiness of the bed next to her and is out the door mere moments later. Despite her only cursory knowledge of the station she immediately guesses Shuri’s location. A brisk stride through some samey white-walled and blue-hued corridors later, Hermia arrives at the asteroid’s tiny library for the first time, pushing open the door without hesitation. Her eyes widen at the sight of Shuri, legs crossed, floating in the center of the library, tomes floating around her at all angles, with three of them open before her. Hermia admires Shuri’s hair waving around as if underwater for a moment before interrupting her. “Shuri! Hey! Shuri!” All the books clatter to the floor unceremoniously. Shuri’s arms flail comically as she herself falls a foot or so onto a pile of books. Hermia puts two fingers on her forehead and sighs. “You are such a dumbass sometimes, darling. We need to head down to long-range now, Andros’ll be waiting. How did you not even hear the bell?” Shuri removes a few books from herself and stands up. “Woke up early with some serious butterflies; wanted to go someplace familiar. As for the bell, uhh… Do libraries have sound dampeners?” “I’ll forgive you this once, darling. Did you at least find anything useful?” “Mostly glittertech manuals and texbooks in here, not really my style. A few interesting tidbits, though.” “Anything about the amplifier machine?” “Well, unfortunately not, other than some very basic principles stuff that probably applies. I guess if it was in the textbooks it wouldn’t be particuarly groundbreaking.” “Mhm, right about that. Let’s move, then.”

Shuri and Hermia find Syken leaning against the entrance bulkhead of the long-range detection department. He thumbs towards the room, saying “It’s proper chaos in there, ladies. The techies here are not to be messed with.” Hermia steps into the door, and sees carts being wheeled, the clattering of pipes, screeching of gears and even the occasional steam whistle. Technicians scuttle about, wrenches in hand, wrestling the machinery into submission. “Yup, not going in there just yet. Andros around?” “Haven’t seen him, think he’s in there.” “Oh, joy.” “After you, then.” Syken makes a show of letting the two women in before him. It’s a challenge navigating the room with everything running at such high intensity, and more than a few expletives and apologies are exchanged on both sides in the journey. The round table, thankfully, seems to be something of an eye of the storm, though it’s complement of members has been reduced to just Andros, who looks up to the three elves as they arrive. “Ah, good to see you three. Shuri, how are you feeling?” “Besides the nerves, good. Had a very nice night, the quarters here are excellent.” Hermia side-eyes Shuri. “In any case, sir, I’m ready to go on this machine, whenever you’re ready.” “You young people continue to amaze me. The techs are charging it up with glitter as we speak, we’ll be good to go momentarily.” Hermia places her hands on the table and leans forward, inspecting it. Gleaning nothing from its flickering lights, she looks up with a fierce gaze and asks Andros, “So what are the chances this thing, like, blows up, or feedbacks like we saw with the tree on the Verdant Growth?” “Well, blowing up is always a non-zero possibility with glittertech, as you should know. But our techs are the best in the system, so that chance is pretty close to zero.” “And what about the feedbacking?” Andros strokes his chin, considering how to explain. “I’m not going to pretend to have a perfect understanding, but the entire contraption is designed to channel weave. That’s should go both ways, so any excess feedback will just get diverted through the device.” “And that won’t cause it to explode or anything?” “Unlikely, though the amplifier is also unlikely to come through unharmed.” “Fine.” Hermia crosses her arms and stands back up straight, before pacing around again. Shuri watches her as she circles the table. “Hermia, dear, I’ll be okay. If it feels too much, I can back out.” “Yes, darling, my head knows that. My heart, not so much.”

Part eleven

A tech hurries up to the table and barks at Andros, “Vice-admiral, sir. The amplifier is charged, awaiting further orders, sir.” Andros turns towards him. “Excellent job, Gael. Take these three over to the control chair, and get Shuri set up in it. She’s the one with the long hair and scarf.” “Yes, sir!” The tech salutes and nervously looks over at the three elves, saying quickly “This way, if you please; watch out for trailing pipework.” He hurries past the round table deeper into the room. It’s a test of agility to keep up with him, and moments later they arrive at a raised chair with several large, navy blue crystals protruding from the back of it and leading deep into the enormous machine behind it. The tech climbs the stairs up to the chair and beckons Shuri up towards it. “Young miss - sorry, Shuri, I mean, - this way.” Shuri climbs the stairs and inspects the chair. It’s impossible not to see it as a throne, in form if nothing else, given the raised position and imposing bulk of machinery backing it up. Noting the restraints, she eyes the tech and asks, “Will these be required?” Gael shakes his head rapidly and replies, “No, no, they are from testing. There’ll be no need. Just sit on the chair and tell us how you feel.” Shuri breathes a sigh of relief and gingerly lowers herself onto the chair, feeling the cool crystal against her back. Shuffling slightly, she closes her eyes and begins to focus on the weave, the energy between dimensions.

As Shuri centers herself, she feels that center expand. The sensation is too foreign to even trigger any instinctive fear, instead forcing a suspension of the rules of reality, as if sinking into dreams. She feels the sounds of movement and machinery fade away as her attunement to the weave is increased ten- or even a hundredfold. Each tiny fluctuation is felt, each flicker of the flames lighting the asteroid’s corridors. Shuri’s normal senses, her ears, eyes, her entire body, pale in comparison to the sheer magnitude of feeling this much weave. She feels submerged, surrounded by it; but this only makes it easier to connect and control. And so she controls it, reaching out as far as she can, calling familiar glyphs and instructions to mind to turn the weave into a giant web, with herself as the center, detecting any fluctuation. Her self-conception expanded again and again, relegating the asteroid to a pebble in the river of rock flowing between the Valerax twins. And then the Valerax twins were pebbles, the web of weave extending all the way out, deep into wildspace. Shuri could feel the presence of a solar sail three days’ travel away.

Suddenly someone, or something, was tearing a hole in her web, a hole close to the center. Shuri immediately zoomed in, focusing her perception on the space around Valerax twins. The sensation was somehow familiar, and she knew immediately what it was. Only registering its reflection on the weave was enough; it was how she had felt it last time. This time, though, Shuri had the weight of an entire asteriod to stabilise her and could match the supercruiser’s might. Distantly, she registered something happening around her physical body, as if seeing something on the surface from deep underwater. The imprint, ugly, ungainly and sharp on the weave’s smooth surface, begins to move towards the twins.

Hermia’s hand uneasily rests on the hilt of one of her swords, her nerves are frayed to breaking point by the sudden alarms. She almost envies Shuri, eyes closed, sitting serenely amidst the buzzing crystals, a picture of beauty. It was killing her to wait amidst a crisis; Syken was already in search of Andros and orders. And so she waited, pacing back and forth before the throne. Exactly thirty-seven paces later, Syken arrives, and has to catch his breath before speaking. “Short version: Supercruiser detected, far side of Amber. We’re to stay here and guard Shuri.” Hermia stops pacing and has to force the frustration aside. “Goddess save me, I’m going to go crazy down here. I can’t do anything at all!” “Well, those are - ” “Yes, Syken, I know, I know, orders. Sorry, it’s just… I can’t stand just standing here waiting for the end.” “Believe me, I’d rather be up in comms, or gunnery, or close support, or just about anywhere else other than next to this giant glitter bomb, but we’ve got a duty.” They both turn and look up at Shuri, surrounded by glowing crystals and technicians scurrying around trying to keep the whole apparatus from falling apart.

Shuri has a plan. Though she thinks that that might be too charitable a term - a long shot might be better. The supercruiser is speeding up as it approaches the Valerax rock-stream, a mark in the plan’s favour. It leaves turbulence in its wake, vortexes of weave that would manifest unpredictably in wildspace. Shuri begins to channel weave, testing the waters. Slow at first, though at this scale even as slow as she could do was still equivalent to even extremely high-level spells. As she got used to the flow, she began to get a feel for it, began to direct it in very small ways - simple colour effects, the minor illusions of a novice wizard. Her plan would require much more than this, she suspected.

Hermia could feel something very subtle change. Perhaps it was simply glitter floating around, as it did if it was broken into small enough pieces. Perhaps she had become more attuned to the weave herself after sparring with Shuri. But she felt a shift nonetheless; a tiny, almost imperceptible metaphysical breeze. This heralded a much more dramatic shift as the crystals surrounding Shuri began to change colour. But this was not the hypnotic, swirling colours of undirected weave; this was purposeful, regular.

Shuri began to draw on the full power available as she readied herself. This would require instructions much more detailed than a simple detection web; she rehearsed the sequence in her head, calling upon glyphs she had memorised for this precise purpose. The trick was simple, really - magically compress spacetime itself into an impenetrable wall in a manner similar to the compression of an inescapable black hole. Crucially, however, this distribution removed the self-reinforcing nature of a black hole and allowed the compression to dissipate once not held in place. Yeah, simple, she thought, going through the motions once more. She could feel immense power at her fingertips, unimaginable and barely contained, like the flow of a vast river. Shuri began to direct the river, the weave bending to her command.

There was an observation post, maintained by a skeleton crew of three, on the far side of Amber Valerax. It was uninteresting work, and the three soldiers and technician stationed there played dragonchess and roguehand more than doing anything else. The calm was, of course, completely erased from existance by the largest plane shift anyone had ever seen, close enough to see with the naked eye. The ship was inconceivably enormous, a barely-visible gray shard seemingly composed of entirely sharp edges and only visible by the similarly giant glyphs painted haphazardly on what passed for its hull. Its design defied comprehension, all angles and corners and points emerging randomly from a shape that might, once upon a time, have passed for a seaship, albeit one of impossible scale. It began to move, and the energies at play would have astounded anyone with even a basic understanding of spelljammer mechanics; indeed the mechanic had his jaw on the floor of the observation deck of the outputs.

This space-shattering arrival was matched, mere minutes later, by the instant appearance of a black square suspended in space, of equally logic-defying scale. It was as if thousands upon thousands of stars simply winked out of existance. The crew of the observation post simply observed the inevitable advance of the supercruiser, watched as it slowly, gently, slid towards the square of blackness.

The tip of the cruiser first impacted the void, and the tip seemed to just vanish into it. The rest of the ship, for uncountable seconds, seemed to be just vanishing into the square with it, but it slowed. The glide of the cruiser tapered to zero, and then really strange things started happening. The middle of the ship seemed to deflect upwards, the whole ship contorting into the shape of an upside-down ‘v’. Then a seam appeared, a chasm in the ship, and, over the course of minutes, it snapped in half, spinning out into wildspace.

Hermia and Syken are plunged into darkness as every light in the asteroid goes out at the same time. The crystals fade back to their orignial navy hue and everything goes quiet, save for the footsteps and whispers of the technicians. Hermia asesses the scene, rendered in the blurry grayscale of darkvision, and immediately strides up the stairs to Shuri, seeing her slumped form slouched backwards in the chair. She cracks her neck and mutters something about wizards before gently picking Shuri up off the chair, despite the protestations of the technicians, and carefully navigates to the asteroid’s chapel/medical facility. Syken is close behind her.

Halfway to the chapel, the lights in the asteroid all suddenly reactivate. Syken covers his eyes instinctively as they adjust; Hermia has to make do with blinking and squinting hard for a few moments. At the chapel, Hermia sets Shuri down on one of the beds and asks for Lilia. She arrives promptly and begins to worldessly diagnose Shuri. It takes long enough that Hermia begins to fidget, and she’s just about to start pacing when Lilia looks up, saying, “Looks like it’s just some pretty severe exhaustion. I’ve checked for everything I know of, there’s no damage or issues otherwise. Good rest and food for at least a week. I know you three like getting in to trouble, so please try to relax for once.” Hermia exhales deeply at the diagnoses and visibly relaxes. Syken shrugs and says, “Well, right now, trouble seems to be doing a very good job of finding us. Thanks for your help, invaluable as always, Lilia.” Hermia echoes the sentiment, saying, “Yeah, thanks, Lilia. Really don’t know what we’d do without you.” Lilia looks down at her hands, embarrased, before hurridly collecting her things, and murmuring something about leaving them some time.

Part twelve

Andros leans forwards and places his hands wide apart on the round table. “Look, as much as I like you three, I can’t just requisition this entire base. I’ll be lucky to get a cart of glitter out under high command’s nose after this young lady here forced a cold restart of our entire system.” Shuri unfolds her arms and strokes her chin. “So a small ship, then. Hopefully I can get master Trazyn to join us for one last ride, fix what he messed up.” Hermia pulls up an empty glitter cart and perches on the edge of it. “This plan is crazy, darling. You want to nab a seaskipper and a highly experimental magic amplifier, pick up the legendarily reclusive archmage Trazyn, and race to the sun for a last-ditch effort to stop a black hole in its tracks with a sheet of - what was it - condensed spacetime?” “Either the amplifier or master will suffice, I think, dear. After all, he was the one to get us into this mess.” “And he couldn’t get us out of it,” muttered Hermia. “Besides the point, dear. We work with what we’ve got.” Syken leans forwards. “How about we load up the Survivorship Bias with a very high fuel tank on a quote-unquote ‘scouting mission’ and just let us fly out on the sly?” Andros looks at Syken and considers. “Now that I might be able to get through. High command is so preoccupied with getting their hands on the supercruiser that it should work.”

The three days it takes to get to Sylvia were tense, despite the fortuitous alignment. Shuri absorbed herself in weave-channeling meditations. Hermia tries sparring with Syken, but the difference between their skill levels was far to large for the exersise to be fun for either of them. They had debated shortcutting via the Astral Sea, but it was deemed too risky and fuel-intensive, even with Shuri giving a helping hand. And so it was with frayed nerves that the trio arrived once again at the tower of Trazyn.

Shuri asks Hermia and Syken to wait outside, thinking that they’ll both just slow things down. She cracks the door open, and closes it gently behind her. Immediately she hears that familiar voice in her head. “Shuri, upstairs.” She starts and immediately whips her head around, but fails to locate the source of the message. The floors of this tower weren’t thick, though, so she heads upstairs. She emerges into the highest room, half-expecting another pile of fabric and pages. In this, fortunately, she is disappointed, and the robes and tomes are waving languidly in the still air. Trazyn appears in her head again, despite being invisible beneath the cloth. “I shall join you, my apprentice. But it shall not be as an apprentice any longer. You have proven yourself my equal, proven yourself able to face what I could not. I suspected you would have need of my strength - after all, you have shown yourself a better steward of it.” Shuri is once again speechless. “I could feel your magic in the weave, little one. That was quite a trick you pulled.” “I… Umm… Thank you, master. The- the ship is waiting outside. Do you need assistance? I thought you weren’t up to spelljammer travel.” “No, I’m… already there.” A silvery mist envelops the room, blurring Shuri’s tears. She fumbles for her spellbook, flips to the right page, steps into the mist, and emerges outside, much to the surprise of Hermia and Syken. She simply said, “We’re sorted, let’s roll,” Snapped her spellbook shut, and started walking towards the landed Survivorship Bias.

Later, Hermia and Shuri sat next to each other on the same bench from which they’d watched their arrival at Valerax, watching the movement of the heavens. “So, darling, we’ve got a hold full of glitter and two of the best mages this side of the core, and we’re on our way to the most dangerous place in the solar system. How are you feeling?” “A little nervous, to be honest.” “Just a little?” “A lot, I suppose. Got no amplifier to back me up this time. How’s the evacuation going?” “Last I heard, they had some plans to refit and convert the supercruiser into a massive people carrier. Current projections are that we can get somewhere between fifty and seventy percent offworld.” “Well, that’s millions counting on us, then. This had better work.” “Indeed it had better. And I hate to bring the mood down, but what if it doesn’t?” “I… honestly don’t know.” The two are silent for a long moment. “Darling, we save who we can. We have to live with the rest.” “But I won’t live wondering if I could have saved more!” As she says this, Shuri impulsively stands up and swivels. The force surprises even her. “I mean- I have to try. There are so many people counting on me, even if they don’t know it.” “Shuri, darling, the military is doing everything possible in their power to get as many people out as possible. They’re doing their best to be fair.” “Even if they’re really being fair and it is completely random, would you stake your life on the roll of a dice, the flip of a coin? Or would you fight for it, with everything you had?” “I-” Hermia sighs and buries her face in her hands. ” …fuck.” Another long silence passes. “There are no good answers in the face of absolute destruction, are there, dear? Either submit to the inhumanity of numbers and statistics, where survival of a chosen few is guaranteed, or fight to the last, knowing you face oblivion if you loose.” “I’ll put that quote on your tombstone, then.” Shuri sits back down on the bench and sighs. “We’ll make it. We have to.” “I hope so, darling. For all our sakes.” They both stay quiet for a long while after that, thinking. The star-lines start to get a little shorter as the Survivorship Bias slows down. Shuri eventually stands up. “I’m going to get some rest before the big day, dear. Wouldn’t do to be tired, would it now?” “Agreed. I’ll do the same.” Shuri picks her spellbook up from the bench, and Hermia grabs her swords from the corner of the bench they’d been hanging on.

Several hours later, the star-lines retreat back into stars and the Survivorship Bias faces down the corpse of Lyria in all its star-eating glory. Hermia, Syken, Shuri and Trayzn all stand on deck, looking up at the hole in the sky, marvelling at its enormity. Hermia is the first to break the silence. “All right, people. Better get this done sooner rather than later. Shuri - what do you need?” “Having the glitter closer to hand would be nice, but we don’t have the luxury of emptying the fuel tanks. Other than that? We just start, really. Stand back, I guess.” Shuri looks over at Trazyn, and then says “Yeah, I suppose it’ll be better if we’re in contact.” Hermia and Syken, both standing back, see a spindly hand extend from beneath the folds of fabric. Shuri takes it, and then closes her eyes. Both she and Trazyn begin to float upwards, and the air begins to feel charged, as if shot through with static. Hermia’s hair begins to float upwards amidst all the latent energy. Syken touches one of his daggers and feels a shock, withdrawing his hand instinctively.

Shuri is surrounded by energy. But this time she feels not the vast, calm stability provided by the amplifier, but raw, untouched power, all to eager to sweep her up with it. She can feel opposite her a familiar presence, subtly drawing on the weave, directing its flow, testing the waters. She begins to do the same, moving synchronously with her master. Channeling raw weave like this was incredibly dangerous; it was of utmost importance to learn the right movements, methods, sequences, all to harness a fraction of the power available. To channel this primordial energy, into a spell barely a week old, was bordering on suicidal. Well, thought Shuri as she grew accustomed to the flow of weave around her, I’d better focus, then. She felt Trazyn’s voice, well practiced at transmitting through the weave. “Your spell is quite a beautiful construction, I must say. Much better than the crudeness that was my first attempt.” Shuri nods her head in assent before remembering that neither of them can see each other. Feeling would have to suffice.

Hermia and Syken had both retreated further away, watching from the bridge above as arcs of glowing energy sprung from both Trazyn and Shuri. “She better pull this off after all that talk,” Hermia mutters. “What?” Syken says absentmindedly, looking over to Hermia. “Oh, nothing.” The lightning gets more intense, and Hermia begins to feel the ship vibrate slightly beneath her feet. Syken notices a light breeze brush the air.

Shuri now felt at ease within the flow of the weave. It was time to start directing it. She started calling to mind the glyphs, the instructions, but the first one sent a lance of pain up her arm. Startled, she momentarily lost focus and had to recenter herself. Trazyn’s voice was in her head again, calm, reassuing, as always. “Raw weave doesn’t like being directed - you must have faith in yourself, in your abilities. Overcome its resistance, shape it to your will. I shall be here, young one.” Shuri begain again. The first step was less painful, but each step, each fold of space, became harder and harder, each reaching further into Shuri. She was nearly there, so close - but it felt like there was liquid lightning surging through her veins, electrocuting here constantly from the inside out, paralysing her muscles and trying to drag her under. Trazyn provided some stability, some reassurance, but he could only do so much. Shuri drove all thoughts from her mind and folded. Over and over again, until the fabric of space formed an impenetrable wall.

Syken pointed at some tiny square of the sky, barely visible amid the charged, swirling air, bright lightning and shaking ship. He yelled something indistinct, but Hermia couldn’t hear it over the gusts of wind and vibrations of the deck. Following his arm, she saw even more stars going out, in the area she could just about parse as between Lyria and the sun. This time, a perfect square of void unfolded, flattened and squashed into a rhombus by perspective. Agonising seconds later, it reached its fullest extent. Syken and Hermia watched it inch closer and closer to the black hole.

Shuri felt like she was made of lightning, every nerve ending infused with unlimited energy and lit up like a firework show. But she had done it. Folded spacetime up into a sheet and hung it in wildspace before the black hole. But something was wrong, something was pulling on the sheet. A crease appeared in its perfectly smooth face. Shuri felt it immediately, a flaw in her perfect instructions. Just when she had begun to withdraw from the weave, she dived headfirst back into the river and began to desperately force it to change course. Trazyn was nowhere to be found.

Hermia noticed it first - a barely perceptible change in the edges of the black square. But it kept going. The edges of the square deformed into ragged hems as the sheet scrunched up. Syken and Hermia looked on in horror as the impenetrable wall was deformed like a fabric rag. “Fuck! It’s getting pulled in! Must be the gravity!” Syken exclaimed. And he was right. The inexorable gravity of the black hole, already able to bend spacetime, devoured the square of void like it had devoured its two moons. Hermia watched it shrink and deform, but as it did so, the winds battering the two of them suddenly gusted, nearly knocking her over. She felt the vibrations of the ship increase as she ran over to Syken. “She’s going to fucking destroy the ship! I’ve got to get her out!” “How!?” “I don’t know! If I can make it through the lightning I can maybe grab her!” “That’s insane! It’s this close to disintegrating the decking!” “It’s the only choice we’ve got, Syken!” And with that, Hermia vaulted over the bridge’s railing and landed on the bench below. By this point the two mages were encased in a refractive rainbow barrier arcing electricity off it. Hermia didn’t think, she simply leaped towards it, sheer willpower forcing her through layer after layer of fire, ice, acid, poison, and more.

Shuri had lost all feeling in her legs. She was submerged in the weave, desperately trying to force it into shape, by any means necessary. There was no time for thought, only survival. Somewhere, though, somehow, Shuri registered a presence, intruding in the weave. She dropped her guard just momentarily and was immediatley overwhelmed with pure energy. Blasted into submission, her nervous system finally forced her into unconciousness.

Part thirteen

Hermia lay below the stars on the matt grey deck of the ENS Cathedral Sylva. Each one was a whole sun of its own, each one containing infinite possibilities, to say nothing of the galaxies beyond. Hermia picked out a few in her mind, these ones closer to the rest. What they’d find there was anyone’s guess - barren rocks? Lush jungles? Glitter-filled asteroid belts? Vast gas giants? Civilisations, empires, or a refuelling stop? Or, perhaps something much stranger? The past was soon to be gone, vanished to the uncaring depths of nothingness.

There used to be some nomadic clans on Sylvia, and many had stayed till the last. Theirs was a simple life, surviving off the land in small groups wandering the continents. Hermia wondered if elves would become similarly unconcerned with development and evolution in their long voyage amongst the stars. This subject stirred many strong opinions, in support of ideas ranging from boring to pragmatic to adventurous to insane. Hermia, for her part, was content to spend the next few decades playing some banal part in the military machine currently in practical control. She had been through so much in the last few months that stability would be a welcome relief. Hermia stood up, steadying herself against the rush of blood to her head, and began the walk down to the medical quarters.

The chapel/clinic was located in some part of the supercruiser whose original function or purpose had yet to be determined. For now it was simply a very large room, partitioned up into a makeshift field hospital of sorts. For someone so accustomed to the small corridors and bunks of normal spelljammers, the shock still hadn’t entirely worn off, and Hermia never failed to be in awe of a space unthinkable on any other ship. Really the whole of the Cathedral Sylva defied comprehension - at over three kilometers in length it was bigger than almost any single settlement on Sylvia. Under the high, slanted ceiling, Hermia made her way over to the ward in which Shuri was still recovering. At a nod from the novice cleric watching the ward, she pushed aside the clean white curtain and drew up her chair to the edge of the bed.

Shuri tilted her head slightly and observed Hermia sit down. “Nice view from down here.” “Oh, I’m sure. How are you feeling, darling?” “Ehhhh…” “Same as last time, then.” “Unfortunately. Getting fried by concentrated weave is pretty tricky to fix, as it turns out.” “I bet you’re really good at lightning magic now, though.” “I’ll probably specialise into it just because of the scars.” Shuri slowly raises an arm to show red lines dancing down her pale skin in fractal patterns. “It’s like this everywhere.” Hermia looks closely and sees red arcing down Shuri’s face as well. “You’re a wizard, darling. You can look like whatever you want.” “Nah, too much effort. Besides, once they fade a little, they won’t look half bad. And you hardly came through unscathed either - diving through a prismatic wall is no joke. How much skin did the clerics have to regenerate?” Hermia pulls up one of her sleeves, revealing a pale-skinned arm unevenly merged with a tanned shoulder. “Quite a lot. How much longer until you get let out?” “Still a while yet - at least a few weeks. What’s the military got you doing now?” “After Trazyn’s wake, everyone basically just left me alone. Syken’s still looking out for me, and Andros probably would too if he wasn’t roped into being an admiral.” Shuri goes silent and looks away at the mention of Trazyn. “Ah. My apologies, darling, I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” “No, don’t worry, dear. It’s just that… a lot was left unsaid between us. Too much.” “I still have my opinions on the man - though now’s not the time.” “What, an old fool who got duped by high command? And then relied on me to fix his mistakes after he couldn’t?” Shuri sounds tired as she says it, as if rehearsing old lines said many times before. Hermia looks away, studiously examining the bar holding up the curtains. It was ever so slightly bent.

“Darling, I don’t want to do this again, not now. Forget I said anything.” Shuri sighs and looks back over at Hermia. “I’m sorry, dear. It’s a lot to process, that’s all.” “Me too. I shouldn’t have been so blunt, then or now.” “Such bluntness can be refreshing sometimes, too. Helps clear the mind, you know?” “Since I’m allowed, then: what are you planning on doing once you’re up and about?” Shuri doesn’t answer for a long time. Hermia is content to sit and wait. Eventually Shuri forms her resolution into words, then closes her eyes and exhales before speaking. “I… I think I need to leave, dear. At least, for now.” “What, leave the fleet? To where? For how long? Do you have any plan?” Hermia stands and gestures passionately in no particular direction. “Calm down, Hermia. We’ve got time, much more than most of the people in this galaxy. I can sneak into some long-stagnant kingdom or republic and perhaps do some good, then come back after a few decades.” She pauses for a moment. “Goddess knows I need to atone.” Hermia sits back down and buries her head in her hands. “But- Darling, we could have a life here. On this ship. After all this time. You can still do good work here. Why do you want to leave?” “Well, two reasons, really. The first is that I feel… wrong, staying here after being responsible for the destruction of Sylvia and all those lives lost.” “That wasn’t your fault, darling. Come on, you must know that.” “But I could have saved them.” “You might have been able too. Probably at the cost of your own life.” “I could have meditated more, read more, come up with a more robust spell. I could have done something.” “Darling, everything’s like that. Everything ever.” “Doesn’t make it less true, dear. Anyway, reason two is that I want to keep researching what I was trying to do, and I have a feeling that won’t be welcome here.” “…That’s a lot harder to argue with.” “I need to find a solution, a proper defence against black holes. The galaxy needs it. If I can’t find it here, then I’ll find it elsewhere. Besides, I owe it to Trazyn to keep his research going. I heard about this up-and-coming federation, something beginning with a P - apparently they’re super into magic and research.” “Sounds like the perfect place for you, darling.” Hermia sighs deeply before continuing. “I feel like I’d be wasting my time arguing with you here. You’ve had more than enough time to consider. And… the fleet still needs me. Andros, and Syken, and Lilia, and the rest of my crew. I have a job to do.” “That was surprisingly easy.” “What?” “I was expecting that to take a lot more convincing, dear. It reflects extremely highly upon you that it did not.” “Now that sounds like something I feel like Trazyn would say, if he ever actually said anything.” Shuri chuckles at this notion. “So you’ll be off, then, darling?” “Yes, and sooner rather than later. I hope Andros will let me at least hitch on one of the trade flotillas going out soon.” “You’ve still got to finish healing, silly. Don’t go rushing off now. Besides, I’d like to have at least one night together to celebrate your future.” “And yours, dear. And yours.”

Planning

Plot

• Introduce trazyn, shuri and hermia

• Invasion

• Trazyn goes off researching black holes

• shuri and hermia disagree about whether this is a good idea

• trazyn comes back and decimates the opposition, but turns the sun into a black hole in the process

• sylvia’s orbit destablisies, giving it three or four months before it gets spaghettified

• hermia and shuri split up for a bit, building the fleet and researching magical countermeasures respectively

• At the launch of the fleet, hermia reveals that she’s been asked to be admiral, and shuri flees to peraxia.

• Include a detail about the invention of gunpowder being about now

Updated plot:

• Intro at trazyn’s tower
• timeskip
• hermia, now in the navy, picks up shuri and trazyn for some nebulous op at system edge, close to lyria, on orders of high command
• plan is to wait for the invasion fleet to appear and then black hole lyria to destroy the whole fleet in one swoop
• op “works” - most (but not all) of the invasion fleet is destroyed, and lyria, now much stronger gravitationally, spirals towards the sun
• lyria misses sylvia but wipes out a few dwarf planets and another gas giant, while the fleet wraps up the stragglers from the invasion fleet (explained in voiceover). takes a month or five
• Trazyn attempts to block Lyria with a massive wall of condensed spacetime (blacksphere material)
• It fails, after being warped by such a large gravity force. sun’s now a black hole
• Sylvia now has a few months before it gets sucked in
• shuri and hermia go their separate ways to do fleet building/research. Hermia thinks it’s trazyn’s fault for doing the magic, Shuri thinks it’s High command for coming up with the idea in the first place.
• They reunite at the tower, now permenantly dark, to have a dramatic final showdown. They still can’t beat each other, and their obligations to their paths mean that they separate for real
• fleet launches as sylvia gets spaghetiffied. shuri disappears (where to doesn’t really matter, but she ends up involved with peraxia in the early stages, to be discovered during the campaign)

Updated updated plot:

• Act one and most of two as written (intro/trazyn pickup/arrival at Lyria for A1, tree to going home for A2)
• Act two ends with Shuri waking up and discussing what she missed with Hermia, and them sharing their concerns and what they think and stuff
• timeskip to their arrival back at Sylvia around three weeks later
• So now the timer is the arrival of Lyria at the sun, which will result in the more or less immediate destruction of Sylvia.
• What next? ideas:
  • Hermia goes off and joins Andros and Syken in building what will become the elven armada
  • Something to do with the corrupted remains of the twin suns’ fleet
  • Shuri goes off with Trazyn to try and find a way of stopping Lyria.
  • Okay, what forces them back together?
    • The appearance of the corrupted ships (which are much slower cause of their old tech) could mean that the Navy once again calls on Trazyn and Shuri up for assistance with this new phenomenon. This perhaps coincides with Lyria’s arrival.
    • Once the captial ship is dealt with (perhaps by having it crash into condensed spacetime), Hermia and shuri disagree about what to do on the eve of Lyria’s arrival. Shuri wants to destroy or otherwise stop Lyria, perhaps using the blacksphere wall stuff, letting everyone on Sylvia live. Problem is that she doesn’t know if it’ll work. Hermia wants to evacuate and leave, but they don’t have enough space for everyone.
    • Since they don’t want to commit too much, the navy commits a single seaskipper with a juiced-up engine and lets Hermia, Shuri and Trazyn go out more or less on their own.
    • The plan fails. The wall of spacetime gets warped, with Trazyn actually dying and Shuri nearly dying from the energy required to create the wall. They get out by pulling the same stunt the Verdant Growth did to escape Lyria the first time - flying.
    • Lyria crashes into the sun, with the elven fleet now safely away. They watch Sylvia get destroyed. Hermia and Shuri part ways as Shuri can’t live with her failure and wants to research defences against similar attacks.
  • Now this would be really good if I set up the theme of saving people in act two. perhaps make it so that Syken is with them on the dragonfly and they nearly don’t make it but Shuri pulls some crazy shit which knocks her out big time and also explains why Syken is much closer to the pair after the raid.

Dramatis Personae

• {Fighter} Hermia, swordmaster and boarding expert in the Navy. Wields dual shortswords and is partial to a long cloak which obscures her features. Confident and attractive. Thinks in terms of odds, stacking them in her favour.
• {Wizard} Shuri, gifted mage and apprentice to Trazyn. Wears her spellbook over the shoulder, resting on one hip and a purple scarf trailing off her back. Lean, sharp-eared and long-haired. A dreamer who comes up with crazy ideas and has the imagination to follow through.
• {Wizard} Trazyn, archmage. Lives in his tower at the south pole of Sylvia and researches spacetime-bending magic (black holes, wormholes, the like). Wears large, billowy robes and hats which obscure his true size (which is unusually short, for an elf). Doesn’t speak, communicates mostly via message.
• {Rogue} Syken, crewman. New kid, general dogsbody on the ENS Verdant Growth. Handy with a shortsword, knows the ship reasonably well. Sharp and snarky, and more than a little of a smartass. Dedicated to the Navy since it gave him a chance to leave his old life behind.
• {Ranger} Andros, captain of the Verdant Growth. Old and wise, knows the ship and crew like the back of his hands. Has a familiar, a four-winged bird called Zakaret.

Places

• ENS Verdant Growth. A top-of-the-line scout corvette in the elven imperial navy. Has a willow tree in the middle which can replenish oxygen. Weaponry is mostly ballistae with some experimental cannons.
• Tower of Trazyn. At the south pole of Sylvia in the middle of a ring of mountains. The sun never sets here, but the shadows are always long. A while from the nearest settlement.
• Sylvia. Home planet of the elves, a tad smaller than earth in a similar spot. Sparsely populated and still somewhat unexplored. Population a few hundred mil.
• Lyria. Edge of the Sylvia system, the last gas giant. Yellow-green hued and slowly swirling. Two moons, Castor and Pollux.