The Asteria Region revealed itself slowly beneath the clouds. Stone walls traced the kingdom's edge in wide, elegant curves. Sunlight caught on shimmering threadwork woven into rooftops and banners, turning the whole city into something that looked alive. Even from this height, the sound of it reached them, a low swell of noise drifting upward, carried by wind and magic alike. Solace stood at the open balcony rail, hands resting on the cool metal, eyes wide, as the airship eased its descent. "I'm gonna be the key that unlocks the world" Solace declared, spreading her arms out wide. The vessel she was on was less like a machine and more like a floating home. Its long, rounded hull of dark steel and polished panels cut cleanly through the air, the front rising into two stacked decks like a layered veranda. Rows of wide windows wrapped the forward section, glowing with warm, lived-in light, before the outer shell smoothed out into a single, continuous body. The ship was divided into three layers, stacked cleanly on top of one another. The upper level housed the main living and control space.The middle served as storage and work space, lined with secured equipment and cargo.The lower level opened into a wide garage bay, a full-sized car parked alongside reinforced gear and strapped-down supplies, proof this wasn't just transport, It was a base. It was not the sprawling stronghold she'd pictured, but enough. As the ship slowed, the anchor chain hummed to life beneath the underside.
"That's as close as we're allowed," Thiago said from the bridge. Solace didn't turn, she watched the city instead. Asteria's laws were new but unyielding, no aircraft beyond this point, no exceptions. Crossing it was not a mistake you survived. Far from the city walls, well outside the prohibited distance, the chain dropped with a deep, resonant clang as it locked into the ground, stabilizing the ship without crossing the kingdom's invisible perimeter. The vessel held position, floating confidently, remaining perfectly still.Solace leaned over the railing, forearms resting on the cold metal as she looked down at the chaos below. Her mustard-yellow sweatshirt shifted with every small movement, loose and cropped, the wide sleeves sliding and brushing her wrists while the neckline sagged off one shoulder just enough to show the black strap underneath. Below that, her khaki cargo pants sat high and steady, thick fabric creasing where her hips pressed the rail, big pockets built for travel and trouble. Her long, dark curly hair framed her face in loose, natural coils that caught the sunlight as she leaned over the balcony rail, watching like the world owed her something. Her warm brown skin glowed in the light, dark brown eyes bright with excitement. At barely five feet tall, she practically vibrated with energy. "We're really here," she said, half to herself. "You can feel it even out here. A whole kingdom wired for fighting." She laughed softly. "I wanna see everything." Inside the bridge, Thiago guided the controls with practiced ease, one hand settled against the console in a way that felt permanent. "Anchored and steady," he called. "No fines, no angry royals."
He glanced over his shoulder toward the balcony, a grin already forming. "And once we're on foot, I might get lost on purpose." Solace didn't even look back. "Just don't make me come get you nav'vuh." The airship hovered, silent and self-contained, watching Asteria from above as its crew prepared to descend. The garage bay doors slid open beneath the airship with a low, controlled hum. Arlenna walked down first, boots striking the metal as she crossed to the car. She moved with purpose, no wasted motion, her six-foot build commanding space without effort. The fitted black crop top she wore, edged with dark red geometric trim, left her arms and stomach bare, every line of toned muscle visible as she worked. Leather wraps circled her forearms, worn and darkened from fights, shifting softly with each precise movement. A deep red cloth was tied securely at her waist, the ends hanging like a sash, with a simple belt holding two sheathed blades. One was plain and worn, the kind of steel that had seen work scuffed leather, a few nicks along the guard, the metal hilt dulled by time. The other looked untouched. Its sheath sat cleaner, tighter, like it had never been dragged through mud or scraped against stone. The hilt held a quiet shine without being flashy, no scratches, no stains, no little signs the world usually leaves on a weapon that gets used. Not because it hadn't been carried, something inside wouldn't allow damage to stay.
The skirt-like garment fell in dark folds to her knees, a sharp slit cut high along one side to allow full range of motion, the trim echoing the same red patterns as her top. She lifted compact packs and sealed cases from the rack and loaded them into the trunk with efficiency. Emergency rations, medical kits, spare wraps, signal flares, the kind of supplies meant for things going wrong fast. She checked seals, tightened straps, redistributed weight until the load sat perfectly balanced. If they had to leave in a hurry, or not come back at all, this would be enough to keep them alive. Parked beside her rested the missing link between carriage and car, an elegant, steam-forged traveler built for distance, not haste. Its long, refined frame rides on three spoked wheels like a noble coach, while the front, exposing a dense assembly of brass piping, coiled exhaust tubes, pressure valves, and a softly glowing headlamp that feels almost alive. The enclosed cabin is polished and deliberate, clad in deep red panels with ornamental metalwork and etched detailing. It sits high above the road, entered by small steps, signaling comfort rather than speed or aggression. Angled, reinforced windows for protection from heat, debris, and the unpredictability of long routes, this machine was made to endure. Every component was custom-tuned by hand, from the mismatched wheels to the exposed engine mounted where a horse once stood, blending old-world form with experimental engineering. The name "Miss Motion" along the cabin's side personalizes the vehicle, giving it character, almost identity.
Thiago followed, walking down onto the platform and sliding into the driver's seat before the door had fully closed, grinning. His right hand spinning a dagger between his fingers, the blade flickering lazily as if it weighed nothing at all. His white shirt sat neatly against his frame, sleeves rolled to his elbows in a way that looked both practical and effortlessly stylish. Leather harnesses crossed his chest in clean, confident lines, each strap holding a scattered mix of tools, pouches, or hidden weapons. His massive afro framed his head in a wild, rounded shape, a metal pick set firmly into the coils. His dark skin was deep and rich, marking him as one of the Dims. All three of them were considered Dims, but Arlenna's and Thiago's skin was far darker than Solace's dark brown. At six-foot-two he carried a calm, unhurried confidence. His dark brown eyes watched the world with mischievous ease, the slight curve of his mouth suggesting he was always in on a joke no one else could hear. He let the blade shrink to the size of a coin, then grow again mid-toss, its silver edge glinting. "I bet there's some rare stuff in there." Arlenna glanced at him, unimpressed. "Is that all you ever think about?" He grinned, flipping the blade once more before catching it. His gaze flicked sideways. "Are you sitting up here with me, or are you heading into the thing with Solace?" Arlenna chuckled softly. "With the way you drive? There's no way I could sit in the cabin and be comfortable. Someone has to watch you, so the front's my only option."
Solace watched from the balcony above. Thiago brought the engine to life, letting it settle into a steady rhythm as Arlenna climbed into the front and took her seat. Miss Motion rolled forward onto a square platform set into the bay floor, its edges marked with faintly glowing seams. There was ample space around it, enough for several people to stand comfortably without needing to climb inside the vehicle. Thick cables extended outward, one to each corner of the platform, that locked into the platform's frame with a solid, reassuring clack. With a low hum, the platform detached. It began a slow, controlled descent into open air, suspended evenly by all four cables. The rear of the airship could open and drop when it needed to, but while airborne, this was the safer answer, a way to lower vehicles and crew together. Wind rushed up around the descending platform. The city loomed closer, Stone, Street, and Open air stretching wide beneath the balcony. Solace leaned against the rail, watching as the platform dropped the final distance, suspension humming as it hit the street below. She smiled to herself, then she jumped. Solace vaulted over the balcony rail without hesitation, arms spread as she cut through open air, sweatshirt snapping sharply in the wind. For a heartbeat she simply fell, hair flying, the city rising to meet her. Then she shed her weight mid-drop, letting Density thin. She landed light as breath, boots barely kissing brick as she straightened, already turning toward the car, just in time to see it blast past her. The engine roared, tires screaming as the car shot down the street like Thiago had either forgotten she existed or decided it was funny to pretend he had.
"He thinks he's so funny," Solace started. The car was already gone, and Solace didn't chase it. She smiled wider, watching it for a moment, gauging the distance as the car pulled ahead, about a hundred and twenty yards, then she jumped. Solace pushed off the ground and shot upward in a controlled arc, adjusting her density midair so the fall wouldn't punish her. Her black crocs met miss motions small rear steps with a controlled tap instead of a crash, the metal ringing once as she absorbed the impact cleanly. She caught the frame, swung with the motion, and hauled herself up without slowing. The back window slid open just enough. Solace ducked, twisted, and slipped inside in one smooth motion, never touching a door. The car tore down the street beneath her, wind whipping past, engine howling. She landed in the rear cabin, braced herself, then reached forward and slid open the narrow window connecting the back to the front, glass rattling lightly as it moved. "Were you really trying to leave me?" she called, amused. Thiago glanced in the rearview mirror. "Huh. Could've sworn you were inside." Solace leaned closer to the window, grinning. "Next time," she said cheerfully, "wait for your Sovereign, nav'vuh." By the time they reached the main avenues, the city had fully woken around them. Movement layered the streets, vehicles sliding past one another with practiced ease.The roads beneath the tires were laid in blue brick, pale white and yellow lines set neatly along the surface to guide traffic. A quiet weave of magic ran through the brick, unseen yet unmistakable, smoothing out vibrations and helping to maintain a steady pace as the city carried them forward. Stoplights floated at intersections on suspended crystals, their signals pulsing softly rather than flashing, blue for go, yellow for slow, white for hold. Miss motion slipped through cleanly as the lights shifted ahead of them, this was FLEX Nine.
The Northern Continent was divided into ten such zones, FLEX One through FLEX Ten, each a macro-territory spanning multiple kingdoms. A FLEX was not a nation and did not rule its people. Day-to-day law, culture, and order belonged to the kingdoms themselves. FLEX Zones existed purely for scale, dividing the continent into distances that could be managed, mapped, and traversed. Crossing from one FLEX to the next meant jurisdictions shifted, command structures changed, and the rules of who could act, and how, were no longer the same. High Auraleon sat within FLEX Nine, large enough to be split into regions. Asteria, the outer landing region, where travelers slowed, resupplied, and decided where they were headed next. Evermarch followed, a broad frontier of long roads and open ground, shaped by distance, and hard weather rather than walls. Ahead of them, separated by miles of open road, lay the Astryx Region, the capital region, where the city of Astara waited. The road carried them onward, mile markers and route stones appearing at intervals guiding them. Traffic moved in every direction, some pressing onward, others breaking away toward smaller settlements and side routes. Miss Motion settled into a steady rhythm. The drive ahead was long, long enough that conversation became inevitable. Solace lay stretched out in the rear cabin, crocs crossed, one arm tucked behind her head. The small window connecting the back to the front was slid open, letting voices carry easily between compartments. As Solace stared up at the ceiling, a lazy grin spread over Thiago's face. He glanced at the road ahead, then back through the open window. Deciding now was as good a time as any, he let his voice carry easily between compartments.
"Alright, lesson time, princess. Welcome to How This World Works, starring you who somehow knows absolutely nothing." Solace didn't get up. "I know things…Nav'vuh." Arlenna let out a small, incredulous laugh. "Mhm. Sure. Okay. So..." She spun one finger in the air as if pulling up a quiz menu. "What's the West's currency called?" Solace opened her mouth confidently. Then slowly shut it again. Thiago held up his hands. "Listen. You know fighting, instincts, vibes, emotions. Great stuff, world knowledge? Horrible, terrible, atrocious." Arlenna pinched the bridge of her nose. "Hey bum, maybe—" "No, let me teach her," he said proudly. "I've been around." Solace narrowed her eyes. "Around where?" Thiago paused, searching for the word. "…Places." Arlenna laughed. "He's been to like three villages and a traveling circus." "Hey!" Thiago protested. "That circus had two elephants, it was pretty cool." Arlenna giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. "Don't worry, I only know all this because I studied currencies." She blushed. "I was bored and curious." Solace crossed her arms. "I am learning." "You're doing amazing," Arlenna said warmly, "for someone who didn't leave the East until, like... six months ago." Solace didn't respond, she pouted, turning her face toward the window and murmuring under her breath. Arlenna sighed lovingly, unable to see her. "Oh, she's so cute, Okay listen. Each continent's got their own weird money." Thiago raised a finger. "The East uses big shiny death-coins made of lava glass." "Obsidians," Arlenna corrected. "Forged when fire kisses water. They're basically unbreakable and super dramatic, like if jewelry had anger issues." Solace frowned. "So... heavy?" "No," Thiago said. "That's the North, the East just wants you to feel poor." Solace frowned. "I'm from the East, I've used this stuff. I don't know why I even asked." Arlenna lifted another finger. "The West uses Telems, their psychic crystal strips. You have to scan them with your mind, they hum, they glow, they make you feel stupid if you have a headache."
"Which you get every time you talk to Arlenna," Thiago said. She kicked his ankle, Thiago shuddered. "Worst currency ever, every time I held one it felt like it was judging me." "It was," Arlenna said. "North uses Titans," she continued. "Big heavy metal coins. Like... thirty to eighty pounds, sometimes more." Solace blinked. "That's not currency, that's a weapon." Thiago puffed up his chest. "The best currency, heavy metal coins that weigh more than Solace's stubbornness." "I am not —" "They're heavy," Arlenna cut in loudly. "On purpose, northerners think if you can't carry your money, you don't deserve it." Thiago shrugged. "I mean... facts." "And finally," Arlenna said, "the South uses Lunars, soft dream-thread notes. They glow when you're awake, go blank if you're unconscious, easy to hide, silent, and subtle." Thiago nodded approvingly. "Southern people like quiet magic and sneaky money, respect." Solace scratched her cheek. "...Why not just use Thistles everywhere?" Thiago immediately cackled. "Sol, Solace, Little Sovereign." He placed a dramatic hand over his heart. "Thistles are the traveler's currency, like... the 'I'm not from here, please don't scam me money." Arlenna nodded. "Everyone accepts it, but nobody respects it." She crossed her arms. "Thistles are plant-fiber coins enchanted so they can't be forged. They don't belong to any one continent, so everyone tolerates them, barely." "They're light, neutral, easy to carry, and every border checkpoint in the world recognizes them. That's why they exist, not because they're loved, but because every other currency hates each other." she continued, " Even the Marker Agency relied on that fact. A hunter would register with them, take a marker, cross continents to grab the target, then come right back to the Agency to get paid. The government didn't want to sort out four different currencies for people who lived on the road, so they paid in thistles, clean and border-proof. Then the hunter could go home and trade them for whatever currency their continent used."
Thiago's voice carried from ahead of her. "Honestly, carrying four kinds of currency makes more sense than just Thistles. Only an insane person travels with nothing else." Solace lifted her pouch, frowning. "But... I only have Thistles." Thiago clutched his chest dramatically. "Oh, she admits it." Arlenna chuckled. "Don't tease her.." Thiago shrugged. "We gotta fix this girl, we're in the North. She can't pay with what they call 'light, magicless currency.'" Arlenna shot him a look. "That's funny coming from someone who isn't even from here. If it weren't for me or Solace, you wouldn't be strong enough to carry Titan's yourself, Nav'vuh. You'd have to hire someone to haul it for you and get laughed at the whole time." Solace burst out laughing. "Oh my god, she's right," she said mockingly, then added, "but they're the best currency, right Nav'vuh?" Arlenna smirked. "Bum." Thiago straightened, offended on principle. "I could carry it, I just didn't want to." Solace laughed harder, Arlenna shook her head smiling. Thiago held the scowl for half a second longer before cracking too, and the carriage filled with laughter. Solace groaned into her hands. "Why is everything complicated?" Arlenna leaned in gently. "Because you haven't seen the world," she said softly. "But now you will, and I can teach you everything," The carriage rolled on, sun warming the seats, the North unfolding in front of them, the crew's laughter filled the air, light and scattered, drifting with the dust trails behind them, Solace let herself smile, she was learning, slowly, painfully, sometimes embarrassingly, but not alone.
The capital rose in stages along the horizon, visible even from a distance. Astryx was the heart of High Auraleon, home to the great arena Hayo-Tayo Temptarda, where every year surrounding cities and towns sent their strongest. People came from everywhere, crews, champions, and fighters shaped by different FLEX Zones, all converging on the arena for their own reasons. Some arrived backed by crowns and banners, names that carried weight because kingdoms said they did, Monarchs, by birth and succession. Others walked in with nothing but loyalty at their backs, influence earned through strength, reputation, or the simple fact that people chose to follow them. Those were Sovereigns, in a world like this, both were said to have power. Only one of them had ever needed a throne to hold it, while the other carried their power wherever they went. Solace pushed herself up from where she'd been sprawled in the car, watching the road close in ahead of them, white lines slipping beneath the car as traffic thickened. Astryx was louder, traffic backed up the closer they got to the arena district, engines crowding the streets, banners hanging overhead, the air buzzing with anticipation, vehicles packed the roads in tight lines, crews spilling out onto sidewalks, voices carrying in every direction. Thiago leaned forward slightly, eyes tracking gaps that barely existed. "You won't," Solace said, head peaking through the little window grinning. He absolutely did, he cut hard, slipping between two cars with inches to spare, horns blaring behind them as he swung the wheel and slid cleanly into an open space. The car settled with a soft clunk, noise rushing back in around them. Thiago shut the engine off. "Found one." Solace laughed under her breath, pushing the carriage door open, the hinges giving a low, familiar groan as the panel swung wide, letting the light spill in ahead of her. She stepped out onto the sidewalk, the arena rose just ahead, massive and unmistakable. Arlenna looked up, eyes bright. "Alright," she said. "Let's see who showed up this year."
They moved with the crowd toward the arena, stone rising higher with every step, banners snapping overhead as crews and fighters streamed in from every direction. They were in Astara, capital city of the High Auraleon, set deep within the capital region Astryx. King Astrell ruled from here, and the arena loomed so close to the castle that its presence pressed in on the city itself, impossible to ignore. The city's noise didn't fade, it thickened, layers of voices, boots, and motion piling on top of each other until the air itself felt crowded.