Lunch felt like a dream I wasn't supposed to be living. Between Lira's foot teasing my calf under the table and the parade of dishes that arrived one after another, I kept expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder and say it was time to return to the real world, mud, rain, and hard work.
But the food kept coming.
First, a steaming bowl of chowder so rich it seemed to hum with flavor. The bread that came with it was warm, flaky, and impossible; it soaked up the broth like it had been waiting its whole life for something better.
Today's second course, thin slices of red meat glazed in a tangy sauce, made me forget the taste of plain boiled turnips. A plate of perfectly seasoned greens sat beside it, bright and crisp as if someone had coaxed all the sun into them. Then came the pudding. Jiggly, sweet, and impossible to stop eating. I ate until my stomach complained and still wanted more.
When we finally left the restaurant, Lira was hanging on my arm in a way that made the world feel steadier and less like something I could be thrown off at any moment. The inner dome glittered as always; merchants shouted, warded banners snapped in the breeze, and the air had that faint tang of mana from the wards overhead. Our next stop was the Skyfarer's Guild.
I'd imagined the guild as some boisterous hall where sky-captains swapped tall tales and polished trophies. The Arcadia branch, however, was administrative, reserved, polite, and almost clerical. Lira led me up to the reception desk and handed over a small metal plate she'd brought with her. The receptionist, a woman with a hairline of gray and eyes that missed nothing, scanned the plate and then looked up with a professional smile.
"Miss Liraelith," she said in a tone I could tell had aged in corridors like this. "You were reported missing by the escort party. I've updated your status to show you are back. Please provide a statement and evaluation of the escort."
The summary she gave matched what Lira had previously told me; only she had more cutting details this time. She explained how the skyfarers in her escort had behaved like predators rather than professionals; how they'd tried to cozy up to her inappropriately; how they'd left her when she disappeared into a side chamber; and how, by the time they noticed she was gone, they'd assumed the worst and abandoned the mission.
Her evaluation was merciless. The receptionist's pen scratched across the ledger with a grim tone. "They will not be assigned to dark elf clients again," she promised. "My apologies for the trouble."
Registration was the next business. Lira wanted me under her wing officially, so the guild could process payments, accept commissions on our behalf, and give me access to job boards and mission notices. We registered me as a skyfarer, technically a commoner rank for now, the baseline in a long progression of titles.
The receptionist printed my ID and explained the ladder: Commoner, Skyhand, Windrider, Cloudrunner, Stormchaser, Skypiercer, Starforged, Aetherblade, Sky Lord, and finally Sky Sovereign. Promotion, she said, came from achievement and evaluation, and each step up meant access to better contracts, more respectable crews, and greater privileges.
Lira herself had no rank in the guild; she smiled when the receptionist asked. Her designation was different: Researcher, Meritous Adventurer's College.
We left with paperwork done and my new ID clipped to the inside of my jacket. My heart felt like it paced to new rhythms: responsibility, possibility, and the vague hum of worry about whether I'd ever be good enough.
The skyport was bustle turned industrial. Elevated platforms flexed above the city, airships bobbed like colossal birds at their moorings, and the scent of oil and hot metal mixed with the cleaner ozone of magical wards. There were hulks for cargo, sleek passenger liners, and vessels whose hulls were sculpted like the beaks of predators.
Lira pointed at a small steel ship docked near the center, sleek, compact, made for speed and one or two passengers. A gun or cannon jutted from its nose, giving it a predatory look.
"When I said you could probably buy a fully fitted airship," she said, "this is an example."
I looked at the ship and then at my coin pouch, doing the math in my head. Fifty gold from the books, twenty-five for the gems, enough for a comfortable life, maybe even a starter ship if I saved hard. It made my stomach flip in a way that tasted like breakfast and the smell of rain.
"I could buy something like that now?" I asked.
"You could," she replied, amusement flickering across her face. "But we're traveling by passenger ship to the port island first, then to the academy. I intend to travel with style. I've booked us a private cabin."
She cocked an eyebrow, mischief curling her lips. "You don't mind if we share, do you?"
I measured my reply with a sailor's caution and a farmboy's honesty. I knew her enough now to suspect her teasing had layers, a performance and something more vulnerable under it.
I placed my hand on her chin and tilted her face to look at me. "I would love nothing more," I said, and meant it.
A sudden, unexpected flush crept across her dusky cheeks. She broke our linked arms and ducked her head behind her hands for a second, the elven ears tucked like a child's embarrassed ears. The sight made something warm and foolish bubble in my chest. She teased and toyed like a cat, but when the roles reversed, she fumbled. Somehow that felt downright charming.
Plans were made. The voyage would leave in two days. Lira arranged the cabin, the provisions, and a quiet passage that would give me time for lessons onboard. We had the rest of the day to prepare, and I wanted to do everything right: wash with soap that smelled faintly of citrus, tie my hair better than the quick knot I'd always used, and keep my hands from smelling of earth when we met dignitaries.
We walked back to the lodge together in the late afternoon light. The inner dome's streets were starting to glow with ward-lamps, merchants closing their stalls. The city hummed with evening traffic, airships coming and going, citizens swapping news. When we reached the lodge, I felt a mixture of exhaustion and excitement so bright it made my hands tremble.
"Tonight," Lira said as we climbed the stone steps, "we start your lessons. Reading, writing, and then practical channeling." She paused, letting the words land like stakes.