A
Gravity was a suggestion in the Archipelago of Aethel. Islands of rock and root floated in a sea of clouds, tethered together by massive iron chains.
Captain Kaelen steered his skiff, the Cloud-Runner, through the dense fog. He was a courier, delivering letters between the drifting towns.
"Hold steady!" he shouted to his first mate, a lemur named Jax. The wind was picking up.
They were approaching the Forbidden Isle—a chunk of land that had broken its chains centuries ago and drifted into the Storm Belt.
"We shouldn't be here," Kaelen muttered. But the package in his hold was glowing. The address was simple: The One Who Waits, Forbidden Isle.
They docked on a rotting pier. The island was overgrown with purple moss. Kaelen walked into the jungle, machete in hand.
In the center of the island stood a statue. It was a woman, carved from white marble, looking up at the sky. Her hand was outstretched.
Kaelen looked at the package. It was a small box. He placed it in the statue's hand.
The stone fingers closed. The statue cracked. Marble fell away to reveal flesh. The woman gasped, stumbling forward.
"You... you came," she rasped. Her eyes were the color of the storm.
"I'm just the postman," Kaelen said, stepping back.
She opened the box. Inside was a single feather. A phoenix feather.
"He remembered," she whispered. "My brother. He promised he would send for me when he found the sun."
The feather burst into flame. The fire didn't burn her; it enveloped her. Wings of fire sprouted from her back. She looked at Kaelen.
"Thank you," she said.
With a powerful beat of her wings, she shot into the sky, burning a hole through the storm clouds. Sunlight, pure and golden, poured through the gap.
Kaelen shielded his eyes. "Well," he said to Jax. "That's one way to quit your job."
He got back in his skiff. The storm was clearing. It was going to be a good day for flying.