Breeze Haven indeed floated off from Acher, nestled in a cloud under the shroud of night. Everyone decided it was best if the whole town didn't see her flying away. There would be signs of her absence in the coming days of peace and quiet, but the people wouldn't know for sure if she was gone or just hiding away, watching from above. That was the idea, at least, despite the large group of loudmouthed drunk witnesses her captains would certainly be arriving with in the morning.
Jimbo worked with Shores to get everyone on the Saint's Wing's and shipped out around the sa ti as Cira so they had ti to get everyone already away on Green Pit ready. As for Acher, the entire Council wanted to join, including old man Yotan. Apparently when that incredibly old man was but a young boy, he used to look up the twinkling sky dreaming of a golden island full of treasure and promise. By the ti he was a man, he dreamt rivers of ale.
Young Yotan apparently had a very short stint as a smuggler before realizing he was a coward, then spent the next seven decades working as an artificer. He claid to still have the very first tools he stole to get started back ho.
Just simple man trying to realize a long-forgotten dream, and the look on his face standing on deck was not so different from Pita's the day he first witnessed magic.
Cira parted ways with them in the night and took a refreshing nap in the garden. Breeze Haven rembered the way to Plackelo, so there would be no issues like how she landed on Lost Cloud.
Her humble abode even took care to gently awaken her by emulating the sunrise once she arrived at her destination. Cira stretched out with a yawn and clambered over to the fence while a pot of tea made itself inside.
"Now just where are you, mystery woman?" She cast her senses in a wide net over the city. It would take forever to look at every single person, so she employed the powers of deduction. Just as important people wear tall hats, they too live in tall buildings.
One was clearly a church, but another in the exact center of the main city stretched higher. Panoramic windows at the top and a nice balcony. While built in the sa style as everything else, it did have a subtle grandeur as it stood above the rest.
She noticed sothing strange though. The bottom floor was empty and dark, as one would expect in the middle of the night, but traces of conjured mana hung in the air.
That girl didn't have a trace of aura, and this mana seems from multiple sources. Cira considered herself sothing of an expert on the subject. This looks like a fight.
Interestingly, there were guards peacefully stationed around the city, doing basic patrols, or even sleeping peacefully off-shift in their little bunks. Nobody was in a panic and there was nothing else to suggest sothing was amiss in Plackelo.
"Well… I guess I should check that out." Turning into void lightning, she travelled faster at night, arriving at an unmanned door. Notably unlocked as well.
So, Cira strode right in. Closer now, she could tell three conjurations occurred here not even an hour ago, but they did not clash. Likely, they were on the sa side. Cira saw no sign of blood, but the sll was unmistakable on the air.
"Ah… there they are." In the back of this municipal building there was a loading dock. Four n worked together to stuff a carriage full of bodies, and Cira took the liberty of building them in chains of light.
Looking upstairs, the girl she t on the docks that day was standing across from two n in brown suits. One sitting lurched over in a chair, while the other stood next to him imposingly. Behind the woman, a very old and sick looking man lay in bed. He sort of reminded her of Gazen on his deathbed.
Negotiations of so kind were happening. The two n didn't hold weapons, but they looked very smug. The girl on the other hand, wore an expression like Captain Wick was shaking her down.
Cira was still in her robes, so the best she could do was conjure the Dreadheart outfit entirely out of shadow. If anything, she thought it looked cooler. In any case, black arcs of lightning grew in the center of the room upstairs and Cira appeared between the two parties.
"Now just what is happening in my skies?" The girl stumbled back onto the bed and the n were visibly rattled. Cira looked them in the eyes and gestured behind, "I know her. Who are you?"
"C-Captain Dreadheart…?" The girl gasped, standing up from the bed. Her sickly father or sothing looked on in fear, powerless to do more than sit up. anwhile, even hushed ntion of her na caused the two's eyes to go wide.
"What—" One of them froze, sweating bullets, and the other smacked him on the back.
"What a pleasure it is to finally et you, my Queen." He got on one knee and dramatically bowed. His partner quickly followed.
"Eternal Empress." Cira lifted her hand, and them with it, "And these eyes have seen bullshit you couldn't hope to comprehend, so drop the act." She then looked expectantly at the girl while those two reeled in the shock of having risen like marionettes.
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"Blackwood goons." She spat, literally, having found a second wind of wherewithal, "Those bastards killed everyone in the building!"
"That's no good…" Cira put a hand to her chin as the n withered, "What do they even want, I wonder."
"P-please, this is a misunderstanding! I am Marcus Blackwood and this is my brother John. We're rely here to negotiate a mutual developnt project! As a prominent mber of the Gandeux, it is our duty to share our wealth with those all along the Boreal—"
"Cut the shit!" The girl shouted, whipping a gun out of her coat. "You're here to remove the wealth of my land and spread that along the Boreal to line your pockets. Just check downstairs Dreadheart, you'll see all the bodies."
"No—we would never resort to violence! It is in our company's code!" Again, their claim was useless.
"I found four of your lackeys stuffing bodies in a carriage, though they did a decent job cleaning up." Cira conjured a chair and had a sit, "Unfortunately for you I can sll blood as far away as I can bullshit. So, I suggest you think carefully before you lie to again."
You know, appearing in a flash of black lightning has its perks beyond speed, efficiency, and safety. I haven't done anything, and these guys are terrified. I'm sure the rumors don't help, but these guys seed pretty arrogant from afar.
They went pale. The two had a choice to either deny involvent with the body-stuffers, or admit to their cris.
"We…" The first one spoke up, "Blackwood company helps develop islands, and we naturally share the profit made from resources removed to clear way for construction. We were always going to give the wealth back to Plackelo—"
"And when they refuse, you convince them with force?"
"First, people disappear from the streets," A shaken girl's voice ca from behind Cira, "Then these brothers co back the next day with progressively unfavorable contracts. We're practically down to copper now—trading our forests just so the people stop dying…" Her crestfallen face fell on the n again and she put a finger on the trigger, "Tell why I shouldn't just kill you two bastards, huh?! Go on. Tell why in front of the Empress for which you attempt to grovel."
Cira crossed her arms and looked at them curiously, "Oh? I would like to hear the reasoning here."
The first looked ready to piss his pants. In fact, Cira was sorry to say she could sll that further away than blood and bullshit put together.
The second, however, grew incensed, "Fine, I will! Screw this bitch." He stood up, dropping the airs of formality and pompously looking down at a comfortable Cira. "The Noose has only ever been full of half-rate pirates, I don't give a shit if you're a witch too. Touch either one of us and hell will rain down from the sky, you can count on that! We are not leaving here without a signature. Quit sniveling and hand her the pen, John. No one can argue if Captain Dreadheart herself signs it. Go on, then."
Wow… Cira sat there trying to mull it over. This man was exactly as arrogant as she thought, it appeared. Marcus practically through his brother at her. She almost felt bad for the guy, but he would at least receive a different punishnt if he kept his attitude in check.
Cira took the pen in one hand and the contract in the other with a smile and nodded, gesturing for him to move away.
"You—you can't be serious!" The girl was furious, "I thought it was your job to stop assholes like this! So Empress you are—"
"Indeed. This is my job." Cira flicked the pen, and it landed in Marcus' shoulder. The fleetingly pompous man scread and practically crumpled into the ground, the sudden fear of god in his eyes as the pain hit in full force. "As I understand it, these people wish to plunder the resources of this land and sell them across the Boreal for profit, leaving you with scraps and re handfuls of coin. They're like Earth Vein for timber, it appears."
"You bitch—you don't even know what you just did!" He ripped the pen out then started bleeding far more, "You think witches are bad, just wait until the whole damn regulatory council is coming for you! I'm the goddamn Blackwood heir—your fate is already sealed."
"What a sha," Cira shrugged, "You irritated to the last, but I suppose a single ssenger will do."
The air popped and he collapsed, bleeding from the ears.
"Brother, no!" While he still cowered to the side, he now pointed hateful eyes to Cira.
"Don't worry, your brother will live." Cira gave him the usual shining chains, "But he is my prisoner, along with those four downstairs, the team in the second carriage, and the entire crew of your ship at the harbor until further notice. I am also commandeering your vessel, but you will find a small dinghy in its place."
"Hang on, if we don't kill 'em all they'll just co back!" The girl was still piping up, "That guy's just as bad as his brother. What are you doing with him?"
He gulped, looking up at Cira to learn of his fate.
"He has a very important ssage for those above. Listen closely." His glazed over eyes suddenly focused and he nodded desperately. "My skies are not to be plundered, nor are my people to be trampled. I don't care if it's Gandeux or the Third Order. If any should disobey this decree, I will take it as an act of war. When it cos to that, I will not hesitate to fly the Mobile Fortress Fount Salt to your doorstep for a proper annexation. Now, go."
For dramatic effect, Cira threw him out the window before gently setting him down in the direction of his new boat, leaving the girl and that sickly old man staring at her with apprehension.
"M-mobile fortress?" She was white as a sheet, "Does Fount Salt really move?"
"No, but it sounds scary, doesn't it?" They were speechless, "Should keep them out of your hair for a while. I have business in Porta Bora anyway."
After a few seconds, the girl's face turned sour, "Why are you here…? What do you want for helping us?"
"Well… you promised a night on the town, but it doesn't feel like a good ti."
"Not really… I have a lot of work to do, but I sure could use a drink."
Cira smiled, making another chair and table, "Now that, I can help with."
The girl couldn't help herself as a glass materialized and filled with ale from thin air. She sat down and gave it a dubious whiff before tipping it back. Then she kept going for a while and slamd it down, gasping for air.
"My gods…" She panted, "What is this?"
"They have been calling it Elysian Draught. Took it straight from the second spring of Paradise."
"P-Paradise?!" her hand shook as she stared reverently at the glass.
"You… you actually found it?" A weak voice ca from the bed and the sickly man looked just like Yotan in that mont. "The legendary Island of Paradise?"
"No way…" Still, the girl was speechless.
"That's right. Thanks to that compass I took the other day, it was a breeze." Cira gave them a quick tale of golden hills and shimring rivers. "I'm actually going there tomorrow. Do you want to tag along? The entire Mortal Council will be there, so it could prove to be a valuable diplomatic endeavor. What do you say?"
"? Go to… to Paradise?"
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