Riley stood at the edge of the grand wooden ship, his hands resting lightly on the polished railing. His clear, vacant eyes reflected the endless stretch of blue before him, an infinite horizon with no land in sight. The wind tousled his white hair, his clothes shifting gently with the breeze. It was peaceful.
Almost too peaceful.
His gaze drifted downward, watching as the wooden deck creaked beneath him. The ship was massive, built for traversing vast oceans. And yet—
There was no ocean.
Only sky.
Clouds rolled lazily beneath them, thick and soft like waves frozen in ti. The ship didn’t sail across water—it cut through the heavens themselves.
Riley slowly turned his head.
Behind him, stretching as far as the eye could see, a fleet of airborne ships followed in perfect formation. So were smaller, sleek and nimble, while others lood large, adorned with banners that snapped in the wind. It was a sight beyond imagination, both majestic and surreal.
A fleet of flying ships.
"Hero."
A voice interrupted the silence, breaking through the wind’s gentle hum.
Riley turned slightly, his gaze settling on the bishop who had appeared beside him. The old man stood with the sa dignified posture as before, though his expression carried the weight of duty.
"We have arrived at our destination," the bishop said.
Riley blinked once before looking forward again. In the distance, towering above the clouds, the massive walls of Warde City ca into view.
Gilbert Warde’s fingers twitched as he lifted his cup of tea.
The study was quiet, save for the occasional clink of porcelain against wood. The warm scent of brewed leaves filled the air, calming under normal circumstances.
But this was not a normal circumstance.
Riley Ross was sitting across from him.
The last ti Gilbert had hosted him, Riley had already been a man shrouded in mystery, soone to be treated with utmost respect.
But now?
Now, his presence felt overwhelming, suffocating—not because he had done anything threatening, but because of what he had beco.
Gilbert took a slow sip of his tea. Riley did the sa, his movents steady, almost deliberate.
The silence stretched.
Gilbert couldn’t take it anymore. His fingers twitched as he set his cup down, clearing his throat. "What... is your true purpose here, Hero?"
Riley calmly placed his own cup back on its saucer. His blank eyes t Gilbert’s. He opened his mouth—
A knock echoed through the study.
Gilbert exhaled sharply, turning as the door creaked open. The bishop stepped inside, his presence just as weighty as before. His gaze flickered to Riley before he gave a slight bow.
"Hero," the bishop spoke. "Everyone passed."
Gilbert blinked. His lips parted slightly in confusion. "Passed?"
Riley gave a small nod. "Good."
The confusion deepened. Gilbert glanced between Riley and the bishop, his mind racing. Passed? Passed what? What was going on?
Even as uncertainty gnawed at him, Gilbert stood as soon as Riley did, forcing out an awkward, "Is... there anything else I can help you with, Hero?"
"There is," Riley answered without hesitation. "Call for your daughter’s new fiancé—Gary. No, I ant Louis."
Gilbert’s brows furrowed. "This... might be impudent of , but... may I ask why?"
Riley turned to face him, a faint smile curling at his lips.
"It occurred to that you have yet to test the rits of your future son-in-law, Gilbert." His voice remained calm, almost amused.
"I will do you a favor...
...and test him under the guidance of the Church of Fate myself."
***
"Can... I ask why I’m here?"
A few hours later, Riley was once again gazing into the endless sky, his vacant eyes reflecting the clouds beneath them. The grand ship soared above the heavens, the hundreds behind it following in perfect formation.
They had left Warde without explanation, vanishing into the skies as swiftly as they had arrived. No words, no farewell—just the eerie silence of departure, leaving the city’s citizens bewildered in their wake.
Now, the fleet sailed forward once more.
The only difference this ti?
Louis Zimr now stood beside Riley.
"You will find out soon enough," Riley replied, not bothering to glance at him. "But you should already have a better idea than I do. You were born here, after all."
Louis narrowed his eyes at Riley’s back before stepping forward, leaning over the edge of the ship to see the land below. And the mont his eyes caught sight of the familiar terrain, his stomach twisted.
"Are we... heading to Zimr?" he asked, gulping. "Why are we going to my family’s city?"
Riley finally turned his head, eting Louis’s gaze for the first ti.
"You will find out soon enough."
And soon enough, he did.
An hour later, Louis sat at a dining hall he had seen countless tis before—except today, his view was different.
For the first ti in his life, he was not at the corner of the table.
His father sat to his left, stiff and silent, his grip on his spoon unsteady—a sight Louis had never seen before. Across from him, Riley Ross was casually eating, his movents slow and unbothered, as if he hadn’t just turned the entire Zimr household inside out.
The mont the Hero arrived, his family had scrambled to welco him, throwing together an elaborate dinner hours before their usual alti. Even his father’s first wife, normally the most vocal at the table, had not uttered a single word.
The silence stretched, thick.
Louis thought it would last, but he had underestimated his brothers’ stupidity.
"Louis, I see that you’re finally good for sothing," his second brother muttered. "To be the Hero’s lackey—how I envy your position now."
"Matthew! Silence!" their mother snapped, but her words fell on deaf ears as another voice joined in.
"The Hero should know, Mother," their fifth brother scoffed. "Perhaps Louis lied about his credentials. Among all of us, he’s the least competent. He could barely hold a knife, let alone wield one."
Their sisters, though silent, failed to suppress their amusent.
Their father was about to interject, but before he could speak, the heavy doors swung open.
The bishop strode into the dining hall—without hesitation, without permission, as if he owned the place.
And then, as if the mont wasn’t suffocating enough, he knelt.
"Hero," the bishop addressed Riley, his voice steady yet grave.
A weight fell upon the room. Whatever petty taunts Louis’s brothers had prepared died in their throats.
Everyone held their breath.
"I am afraid this city has been corrupted," the bishop declared. "More than half its people no longer believe in Fate."
"I see," Riley sighed and stood up, "Then let us begin."
Begin?
Begin what?
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