Stormhaze

Chapter 4: Edras' graduation

"... I'll see you soon." Edras said, feeling a blend of excitement, concern, and pride. In two days—he was sure—he would reunite with his father and celebrate like never before. They would explore every province on Erylon, waving the banner of Istendil and serving their people as father and son. He only hoped Gillien's homecoming wouldn't be delayed.

His father's voice crackled through the speakers on his calleron wrist display. "Of course, son. Good luck with the ceremony. I'm infinitely proud of you."

Edras breathed out nervously, but a wide smile grew from ear to ear as the call ended. He looked along the familiar streets of Argead and embraced the capital's undying motion. It was still daylight in Ryken where his father was stationed, but here farther east on Erylon the sun had just set behind the horizon. His watch displayed '19:00'; the graduation ceremony was close.

He gave his uniform a once-over, still as white and straight as marble, noticing that the only thing left was attaching the nameplate still in his pocket. Proudly, he pinned it to his chest, displaying 'Thoron' in bold letters as he began to walk.

The grand city of Argead had always been defined by its waterways and deltas that spread across it like hundreds of arteries. A cloudy blue hue colored the river, its waters originating from the many lakes that defined the lush province of Alecaria. Being so near the equator gifted the capital with a seemingly unending flood of greenery, sprouting up even in the densest areas of Argead, and giving life to the horizon-long fields that surrounded it.

Crowned with plants, the capital city had become synonymous with thousands of lush islands connected in an intricate web of bridges, docks, and canals. Each island acted like its own small district, some with skyscrapers, others with dense wooden houses, or the mountainous metallic factories farther out. Traditional boats in intricately carved wood—gliding quietly along the canals—dominated the riverscape between the buildings.

For an outsider, Argead would seem like the collision of two worlds, one ancient and the other present. Wooden boats lay docked in the shadow of flying gunships, temples hewn in granite stood dwarfed by glass towers, and cybernetic hands worked with intricate precision to craft masquerades in all shapes and colors. Edras supposed it was actually the marriage of two worlds, for the forces that maintained the capital's deep-rooted traditions were equally powerful as those who produced its newest weapons—his grandfather, Tarian, chief amongst them.

The merger between the two values had shaped everything in Argead and its wider province of Alecaria, which is why Edras' coming ceremony was unlike most. Just like Gillien, he too was expected to defend their people to the end, and the citizens showed their appreciation in the way they knew best. Decorations, celebrations, and fine music electrified the air.

Edras passed groups of foreign merchants, performing artists, and exotic dancers that all vied for his attention. Other than giving a polite smile, however, he paid them no mind, as his single focus lay on fulfilling his rite of passage.

Edras strode confidently across the many bridges, canals, and wide arches that finally led him to the harbor. And there he saw it: One hundred of his fellow graduates—whom he had trained alongside for years to achieve their honors—stood in white uniforms by the large canal harbor. The air around them felt charged several times beyond anywhere else in the city. Crowds of thousands of people sang, danced, and cheered, surrounding the one hundred to-be Etherions as they began to board a waiting ship.

Though flying gunships had been the standard military vehicle for centuries, the rite of passage for an Etherion lay in its deep-rooted military traditions, and so the ship they were boarding was unlike anything else. Its long body, painted gold, white, and brown—with fifty oars on either side—seemed to fit in a world thousands of years gone on planet Earth. There were no engines, only a rudder and a mast with furled sails, joined by a tower jutting up from its back end with a large drum.