Corruption Feive

Xyrcan nodded. “My station affords me a few luxuries, whether I desire them or not.”
“You didn’t want an airship?”
“I did not want to be Xyrcan.”
“You wish you were never born?” Blade asked, incredulous.
“Xyrcan is a title that replaces the name.” Cloack interjected. “He does not want to be ruler of my race.”
“Why do you not simply step down? Can’t another take your place?” Blade queried, unsettled at the thought that an ally might be at all uncomfortable.
“Only another Dracos that is more powerful than me could replace me. Until he is found, I am left with no choice but to fulfill the duties that the Fates have laid for me.” Xyrcan lamented.
“Fates?” Blade asked.
Xyrcan chuckled. “Another time, we shall speak of such trivial things. If your story can at all be saved, you’ve work ahead of you. I shouldn’t keep you waiting. Come with me.”
Xyrcan rose, followed by Cloack. The chairs summoned by Xyrcan’s power melted back into the floor, leaving no mark to indicate they had ever existed. Blade rose, still dumbfounded at the now missing chairs, and followed the two Dracos.
Hurrying to keep up with the swifter creatures, Blade had another question, looking at Cloack and comparing him to Xyrcan. “Why do you like me? I mean…”
“You mean like a human.” Cloack finished for him.
“No, I didn’t…” Blade fumbled, thinking he had insulted the young lad.
Instead, Cloack began to chuckle. “All Dracos begin like this. The soft skin allows for a soft birth, you see. If we were born with scales and plates, we would shred our mothers to pieces!” Cloack chuckled some more, and Xyrcan smiled, caught up in the mirth. “Same thing with wings.”
“You have wings?” Blade gasped.
Xyrcan chuckled now. “You shall see, Blade.”
As they reached the end of the long hallway, Blade indeed had the chance to see. The door there, heavy slabs of stone that swung wide on impossibly large hinges before Xyrcan even drew near, was heavily ornamented with images of the Dracos. Rather than robes and heavy cloaks, these draconic creatures were clad in what seemed to be decorative armor that showcased their scales and their wings. To Blade, the wings were the most entrancing features. They were large, but elegantly so, flowing down to the ground when folded, and spreading wide and powerful to the sides of the depictions.
Blade wondered for a moment if it were merely artistic license, or if indeed the Dracos as a race truly did resemble these winged figures. Blade quickly had his answer.
When the door swung wide enough, Blade saw the Dracos.
Before him was a stone terrace, with groups of Dracos, young and old, conversing, sitting on the railing, flapping their wings to hover beyond the terrace, suspended hundreds of feet up the side of a cliff on a solitary mountain. No, not solitary, Blade realized looking at the scenery. Massive. The mountain was part of a range, but was so massive it dwarfed all those around it by a ratio of nearly ten to one in size.
Blade, as flabbergasted as he was at the sheer size of the mountain, was even more enraptured by the beings about him. There were young Dracos that looked like Cloack, with elongated canines and pointed ears. When they looked his way, Blade could see slit-pupilled eyes. There were older Dracos that looked more like Xyrcan; tall and broad. Their wings dominated their silhouettes, and many wrapped them about themselves like a makeshift cape or blanket. Their scales often varied in color between a deep blue and a light grey, but rarely explored other colors of the spectrum. The horns and plates about their head varied, and none quite looked like the horns on Xyrcan’s skull. Still others looked like a cross between young and old, and Blade guessed that indeed that was exactly the case. Parts of their bodies were covered in scales, and the rest skin, and their wings were smaller, more diminutive, eclipsed by the massive wings of the older Dracos.
Some were practicing magic, others, especially the small children, were playing on the cobbled street, for that was what Blade emerged upon. When he turned to look at the cliff side, Blade marveled at the architectural wonders of these beings. Built into the mountain was flowing architecture, with doorways both accessible by long stairways as well as limited to those that had wings and could fly. He turned back to Xyrcan and Cloack, waiting a short distance down the road for him to catch up.
Blade jogged after them, noticing that some of the Dracos wore the same armor that he had seen on the door. It was in no way practical, with flairs and flowing extensions. The armor often left half the chest exposed, and left one arm on the same side as the exposed chest area completely uncovered. On the half that was armored, a theatrical collar came up and rose above the wearer’s jaw. Blade had no idea what practical use it could have.
Blade struggled to keep up with the two Dracos and marvel at the world around him at the same time. “Are you coming, Blade?” Cloack asked.
Blade turned to look at him with wide, wonder-filled eyes. “Why do you wear armor?”
Xyrcan smiled. “It is not true armor. It represents a high station. They are my personal guards.”
Blade looked to the nearest Dracos wearing the armor. He was staring back at him, and watching Xyrcan. “So I’d best not irk one, huh?” Blade asked.
“Indeed.” Xyrcan replied. “They have protected the Xyrcan for millennia. But to show off is the only reason that armor is worn. The younger Dracos often have true armor that could protect them should the need arise, but that does not occur often.” Xyrcan turned, and motioned for Blade and Cloack to follow.
The three moved down the street a ways, even beginning to wrap about the massive mountain. Even at this great height, the mountain’s peak was far beyond his vision, high in the air, obscured by a great white cloud. Finally, Xyrcan turned to another door set within the stone of the mountain. This one, unlike the door from which they had emerged, had no images engraved upon it, and was a plain gray stone that Xyrcan had to push it open. The stone ground noisily upon its hinges, where the other had seemed to float wide, allowing them passage.
Blade followed Xyrcan and Cloack into a dark hallway. His eyes had to adjust to the gloom, but he managed. He was grateful for the clean cut of the stone and the fact that he didn’t have to worry about tripping and possibly injuring himself again, and delaying his return to his friends.
At the end of the hallway was a massive room, filled with machines and tools that Blade could neither name nor describe. He quickly learned that the room was a hangar, a dock of sorts.
For Xyrcan’s airship dominated it all.
Blade remembered the ships above the city, remembered their wooden constructs. This one was unlike them all.
The ones in the city looked much like a ship at sea, made mostly from wood with sails that caught the wind on high and propelled the ship forward. Ropes and nets adorned the sides of the ships and they were often used to hang goods or ballast from.
This ship was far more complex. It consisted of a central shell, a metallic core, essentially. The shell was relatively oblong, coming to a point at the bow and the stern. Near the bow, the shell opened in a sort of grill, rows of metal with gaps between them. Above that, as the shell traveled back and rose slightly, was a sort of window that looked to Blade like the visor in the armor deathtrap he tried on in the armor shop.
On the starboard and port sides of the ship were extensions that looked like wings. Attached near the stern the two 'wings' flared out to the stern and bow, extending slightly beyond the ship in both directions entirely symmetrically. At the rear ends of those wings seemed to some form of exhaust, but Blade couldn't be sure.
The whole of it was a rustic red, turning to orange in some areas near the stern. Blade was left dumbfounded at this engineering marvel.
“What is this?” He asked.
Xyrcan removed his cloak and handed it to an attendant leaving the ship. Blade saw that all of Xyrcan’s scales were a deep blue. The wings, pressed against his back from the cloak, now spread from Xyrcan’s back, then folding comfortably behind him like a cape. His upper torso was bare, and starting at the base of his sternum was a sort of belt that much resembled Blade’s. Xyrcan’s, of course, was far more decorated. From the belt flowed a long garment that Blade would dare describe as a skirt, but never to Xyrcan’s face. It was a shimmering brown, but not the monotonous and ungraceful hues of moldy forest floors. Instead, the brown was infused with light tints of other colors, so subtle that Blade could not immediately point them out. It appeared made of silk, but seemed even lighter in the air, flowed around Xyrcan like an opaque wisp of smoke.
“This is the Dragon's Mystery.” Xyrcan declared gesturing to the whole of the airship.
Blade was able to lift his jaw from its drop long enough to utter a statement or two. “It doesn’t look like the ones over the city.”
Xyrcan nodded. “Firstly, that is because we are of different cultures.” Xyrcan began moving toward an open hatch at the port side of the ship. “And this ship is designed for combat, not commerce.”
“Combat?” Blade asked, hurrying to follow Xyrcan, Cloack nowhere to be found. Blade, of course, didn’t notice.
“Yes, combat.”
“How fast is she?” Blade started feverishly, stopping Xyrcan at the top of the small staircase leading into the ship. “What weapons is she carrying? How many other ships can she take? How thick is her armor? What...”
Xyrcan held up a hand to silence Blade’s stream of excited questions. “How does finding out for yourself sound?” Blade did indeed stop his questions, but his eyes remained wide. How might being in the air feel like? He wondered. He hadn’t realized it before, but the thought of having an airship was exhilarating. He hoped one day he could possess one of his own.
Xyrcan turned into the ship, and Blade was quick to follow. The two emerged into the end of the engine room closest to the bow. To Blade’s left, the direction of the bow, there was another stairway leading to a closed hatch oriented in that direction leading out of the ship. Across from him was third hatch identical to the one they had just climbed through. To Blade’s right were what clearly had to be the engines, massive cylinders that reached the ceiling. There were eight on each side of the room, arranged side by side, almost touching, and exuding steam in copious amounts. The air was hot and muggy as the engines began to flare up. Between the two rows of eight was a narrow catwalk that kept the crew up above the searing hot pipes below. That catwalk now began to rattle and shake with the activity of the engines.
Blade felt the floor – the entire ship, rather – rise slightly, throwing him somewhat off balance before he caught himself and quickly became used to a very gentle rocking. The ship was moving slightly as it lifted off the ground to hover a short distance up.
“Up here, Blade.” Xyrcan called. Blade looked up and to his left. To either side of the bow-most hatch were two curving staircases that led up a small landing with a short peninsula attached overlooking the entirety of the engine room. Xyrcan stood at the end of that peninsula, looking down at Blade.
As Blade rushed up the staircase nearest to him, Xyrcan turned and disappeared through a doorway at the top. When Blade turned to follow, he entered a long hallway filled with cables and cords running along the walls. Xyrcan was silhouetted at the end by light coming in from that direction. Blade hurried to catch up and emerged into what appeared to be the command center of the ship.
The hallway opened up on a raised platform above the rest of the room. At the front of the platform was a blue sphere, hovering at Xyrcan's waist height. The device was clearly magical, as no mechanical apparatus suspended this sphere that Blade could see.
Xyrcan stood before that sphere, looking down at the rest of the room. Three terminals on each side lined the edge of the room. At each terminal was a technician, spouting of statuses of the ship, ensuring their safe take-off. Xyrcan watched it all, guaranteeing perfection. The only source of light was the visor that Blade had seen from the outside, now serving as a window. Although, as it was high above their heads, Blade wondered how they could see at all.
What he hadn't counted on was the genius of this contraption.
Outside, the central shell split into two, widening the ship further and giving the whole of it a much flatter shape. Now, tiered as it was, with the central compartment more of a sphere at this point, the rest of that inner shell spread out and the ‘wings’ yet somewhat lower, it resembled a disk. Blade, of course didn't see all this, merely felt the many vibrations as the ship modified itself for flight.
At least, he didn't see it until the visor opened up. From its high perch, the bottom lip of the window extended downward, until the whole of the central shell was a vast window. Blade could see one specialist, a Lamadan, step in front of the ship and lift his thumbs high into the air, indicating what Xyrcan called an “All green.”
Xyrcan placed his hands over the floating blue sphere, and the whole of the ship wobbled momentarily as it lifted further away from the ground. Blade watched as the wall in front of the ship opened up to show them the sky beyond, the cliff below and the journey ahead.
The ship surged forward when Xyrcan dug his claws into the sphere. When Blade recovered from being thrown to the back of the room, he was awed at how quickly this contraption moved.
He guessed to be back within Medavesus before nightfall.