Upon the Flying Ship: Rewritten Records of the Illiterate Author

Chapter 13

"Fyeuin's gone."

"Rumor? Where did she go?"

"No, truth. Half the training hall saw her eyes go white and the fire eat her up."

"Dead?!"

"Nobody knows..."

"We're continuing the same plan!" Zelda shouts. "Fyeuin was important, but not THAT important!"

The deepwalkers are being brought up to the abovedecks, one year at a time, stopping training and getting ready for the battle.

First, year ten. Year ten is mostly review and the rules of strategy, which doesn't have any rules.

Second, year nine. These people have begun their training with iron, not using their powers at all.

Third, year eight. Everyone here is armed to the teeth, strong and fast. 'Brute strength' seems to be the motto of the eighth-years.

Armies from the South are held in the below-decks. The DeSSers are not fighting alone.

The DSS makes one more stop in Northleans, and the belowdecks are filled with armored people to the brim.

Fourth, year seven, roused from their peaceful meditative state. They don't look too happy, and Zelda hopes to use this unhappiness against Czar's people.

Fifth, year six, who would be the ninjas - agile and lithe - if year five wasn't a better candidate.

Year five was sent ahead to plan traps and hideouts. A gigantic flock of dragon-birds was floating around the ship for a good few days while people figured out where to sit.

Sixth, year four, who thought it was a good idea to bang people with wooden sticks and poles, because they wouldn't fit in the corridors. All the year fourers were sent to the Meeting hall, with its high ceiling, or to the top deck.

Seventh, year three, which is still practicing close contact fighting, daggers and fists.

Eighth, year two, which knows everything about anatomy and pressure points.

Lastly, year one, power-oriented and still figuring how to better their magic.

The abovedecks of the DSS teemed with fighters as the ship floated towards the battlefield.

2 hours earlier...

Surrus knocked on Bellarmine's door. The singer poked her head out. "Yeah?" she rubbed sleep out of her eyes. "You interrupted my beauty rest!"

Bella then noticed that Luzelitta and Nox were standing behind the Sand Mage. They had come up along with the rest of the deepwalkers.

"Bella. You were one of the few people who didn't change sides after the Convincing, so I know you don't want this war. How about we stop it?"

Ferria looked at Surrus, Bellarmine, and two deepwalkers. "All you guys want wings?"

"Really, only Luz and I." Bella pointed at the girl, whose Mark meant she was a light mage.

Ferria decided not to ask. She owed a small debt to Bella, and maybe doing this would pay it off?

"Turn around, then."

Both women turned around. Ferria placed a palm on each of their backs. Her Mark began to glow, and the light spread to her hands. The wings didn't exactly grow, they materialized, solidifying in the air, already spread.

"Do you pick what the wings will look like?" Luz asked.

"No. They appear based on your power."

Once the wings fully appeared, Luzelitta turned around to thank the wing Mage, only to find her unconscious on the floor.