Simon revealed his true identity to Eole during the trip, as he did before when they infiltrated the Cobweb.

He feared she would change her mind about bringing him to the Sanctuary after learning she might welcome the Overlord to her home, but eventually relented for the same reason why she had accepted him during that reign: that he could have boarded any airship or revealed her homeland’s location to the empire if he had any actual interest in conquering it.

She did have questions, though. “How does a prophet end up with the Overlord Class?”

“Because it was forced upon me,” Simon replied. The Class, at least. “I did not choose it. As far as I can tell, my late father transferred it to me as something of a final act of cruelty. It amused him to see our family tear itself apart.”

“So this vile curse does not pass on to whoever killed its last holder, as the legends say.” Eole shifted in her seat. “Perhaps it was fate that we met, then. Taking the Overlord Class away into exile might do more good than you could have ever achieved with its wicked power.”

“I’m… not so sure,” Simon admitted. “I still wonder if the Class’ power could be used for good.”

“I do not think so,” Eole replied. “I am told the Class was created to embody evil itself. Any good deed it enables must have a hidden catch of some kind.”

Mayhaps. Simon still didn’t fully understand how the reigns worked, but the mere fact that it could undo an entire timeline to benefit a single person’s whims spoke volumes about its priorities.

“Maybe,” Simon admitted. “In that case, are you sure you still want to take me to your people’s Sanctuary? My mere presence could put it in danger.”

“I am not certain it is wise,” Eole admitted, smiling faintly. “However, you have been kind to me, and I can tell this burden causes you great distress. I pray our gods can provide you with a solution. They might have a way to seal away or purify the Class.”

“Your gods?” Simon frowned. “You mean your dryad?”

“We kish honor many gods,” Eole replied. “While we respect our dryad, Lady Junon, our Sanctuary is also home to many eidolons under the Sky-Father’s command. They are not as powerful as the cardinal guardians, but they are kind and fair.”

“I’ve never heard of this Sky-Father.”

“He is an eidolon who has watched over our people since the Doom,” Eole explained. “I am sure he will be able to help you with your curse.”

Simon doubted that, but he nodded slightly. The presence of eidolons in the Sanctuary had made him curious. Visionaries could infamously form contracts with them, and Mardok suggested he could ‘enslave and corrupt’ them, whatever that meant. Simon guessed he could at least see if he could form a contract with one of the entities.

“In the meantime, I ask that you do not use the Overlord Class when staying among my people until we can consult Lady Junon and the Sky-Father,” Eole said. “This power is evil, no matter what you may think. It does not belong with us… nor with you.”

“I see no issues with that,” Simon replied, having expected such a condition. “How big is your Sanctuary?”

“Our Sanctuary is an entire archipelago of flying islands,” Eole explained, “The southern one, Notus, is home to the Sky-Father, our eidolon protector. He will determine whether you will be welcomed among us.”

“I understand,” Simon said as their train slowed down upon nearing their destination, his gaze turning to an utterly expressionless Belzemine. “At least I will no longer be complicit in my nation’s atrocities.”

Eole scowled slightly. Simon had given her a brief rundown of Belzemine’s life, and though she was sympathetic to her situation, ferrying a slave to her home didn’t sit all too well with her.

“When was the last time you met fellow elves, Lady Firewand?” Eole asked in elvish.

“When His Majesty Mardok had me kill a handful in his personal arena,” Belzemine replied, causing both of her companions to flinch.

“That is… awful.” Eole cleared her throat, a look of pity in her gaze. “Our elven community lives on the northern island of Boreas. We could go there and meet your kinsmen.”

“If His Majesty wishes it,” Belzemine replied flatly.

This is going to be a long and difficult journey, Simon thought as he changed the subject. “Exactly how many islands does your Sanctuary have?”

“Our home includes four major islands and dozens of smaller ones, like the rock holding the Forbidden Keep,” Eole replied. “We have Boreas to the north, where our elven friends live in the shadow of our manatree; Zephyr to the west, where most of us kish live in peace; Notus to the south, the island of eidolons; and savage Euros to the east, home to our harpy sisters.”

“What’s a harpy?” Simon frowned. “I’m not familiar with the term.”

“Harpies are cousins to us kish, closer to birds than men,” Eole explained. “Our harpy sisters are half-feral and cannot shapeshift, though they often take kish lovers and coexist with us in peace.”

“I see.” Simon wondered if they were the result of one of the Two-Tailed Fish’s polymorphy experiments. “Either way, we have arrived.”

The Golden Mountains of Valendre—named as such due to having been the object of a wild gold rush during Gargauth’s years—were smaller than Mount Colt, partly because constant imperial mining operations had caused the tallest peaks to either crumble or slightly flatten over the centuries. It hardly took half a day for the group to reach the highest summit using a combination of magical and natural flight, at which point Eole began to sing to the wind for hours on end to contact the Sanctuary.

While he had suspected as much since their trip up Mount Colt, the Cocagne attack had taught Simon that the kish had at least partial control of the way their Sanctuary’s islands moved across the sky; enough that they could use them as bases to mount attacks on the surface should Vouivre and the War Party take them over.

Simon’s suspicions were proved correct when a second song began to echo Eole’s own a few hours into her performance, like a faint whistle joining with the breeze. He looked up to the sky and he noted that the number of clouds had grown denser.

“You have been allowed inside,” Eole confirmed to her companions. “However, it is a long flight up, so my family will come pick you both up.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “You have a family?”

“Of course I do.” Eole chuckled. “Did you think I was an orphan looking for her lost parents on the surface?”

“I’m just surprised,” Simon replied. He had never heard Eole talk much about her family during their time together in previous reigns. He assumed she probably sought to preserve her private life.

Belzemine looked up and spotted something in the sky. “Your Majesty.”

Simon followed her gaze and saw a dozen winged humanoids flying down to them.

Simon had never seen a kish besides Eole up close—except those the War Party turned into slave soldiers to attack Cocagne with—before, and he immediately noticed that their wings differed greatly from one another. Some were like those of eagles, others black and elegant like crows, or pristine white like those of herons. The kish men went shirtless, and the women wore colorful robes adapted to their morphology, all of them boasting tattoos or body paints. Their weapons were rudimentary, namely manalith-tipped spears and bows.

Two of them stood out from the lot due to their resemblance to Eole. At the group’s vanguard was their leader, a muscled shirtless man who looked to be in his late forties with a reddish beard and messy hair, deep silver eyes, and crimson wings. He was the only member of the group to carry a sword with a Crestone encrusted on its pommel and limb-protecting armor.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The other was a pale and handsome man with short pink hair tied up by a feather headband, red markings on his naked chest and shoulders, crimson wings similar to Eole, and pale eyes. He wore a traditional robe covering the lower part of his body, carried a staff stopped by an eagle head carving, and bore a Crestone necklace around his neck. He smiled with relief upon spotting Eole and moved to hug her warmly the moment he landed.

“Ruto,” Eole said upon warmly letting go of him. “I missed you so much.”

“I was overjoyed to hear your song again, sister,” the young man said, much to Simon’s surprise. “Your silence worried us greatly.”

“Your brother speaks true, I was considering leaving myself to find you, the elders be damned,” the kish leader said as his escort surrounded Simon and Belzemine. Although they didn’t threaten them, they seemed rather on edge. “I told you not to leave.”

“I’m sorry, father,” Eole apologized with a slight bow. “You were right, I faced much hardship on the surface. I would not have returned without Simon’s kind help.” 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

“Is this your savior who can speak our language?” the warrior asked upon spotting Simon, his hand moving to his chest. “I am Tybalt, chieftain of the kish. You have my gratitude for saving my daughter’s life and returning her to us. You may count our people as your friends.”

“Chieftain?” Simon raised an eyebrow at Eole. “You’re a princess?”

“No, we do not wear crowns,” Eole replied with a slight blush, which wasn’t a real answer.

“Though we can trace our ancestry back to the kish empire’s founder, our line has never ruled as kings,” Tybalt said with a faint smile. “We elect our chieftains. Though I had the honor of leading the kish for many years, it is a duty, not a privilege.”

“Your people are unlike mine, then,” Simon replied with a slight bow. “Either way, I am glad to make your acquaintance, and I’m happy your daughter can return home.”

“Eole sang that the two of you wished to leave the surface, and that you were a prophet,” Tybalt said. “May I ask why you wish to depart your homeland?”

“I’m… I’m tired of fighting,” Simon replied with a sigh. “I’m looking for…” He wanted to say peace, but it wasn’t really the truth. “An escape, I guess.”

“An escape?” Tybalt studied his expression. “From what? Your visions?”

“Everything,” Simon confessed. “The wars, the conflicts, the petty intrigues, the slavery and the brutality…” Merely mentioning those left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially since he had profited from them and even taken joy in some atrocities. “I just want to forget it all, even if it’s for a brief time.”

Tybalt pondered his words, before nodding to himself and focusing on Belzemine. “What about you, lady elf?”

“I will go wherever Lord Simon goes,” Belzemine replied. Simon had asked her not to mention his title in public to ensure it wouldn’t cause issues. “I have no other purpose but to serve him.”

Tybalt scowled and exchanged a glance with Eole, who sighed and nodded silently. “I understand,” the chieftain said before addressing his son, “What do you think, Ruto?”

“The Sky-Father is curious about this prophet and would like to meet him,” Ruto replied, smiling at Simon. “He has granted us his blessing.”

“Then it is settled,” the chieftain decided. “I owe you a debt for saving my daughter’s life, so I will grant you both shelter. However, many would seek to raid and plunder our land for its riches, so the secret of its existence cannot spread. You will not be allowed to leave our Sanctuary without our permission, if ever. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Simon replied without hesitation. “Nothing holds us back.”

“Very well then. Ruto, Eole, you will carry our new friends to Zephyr.” Tybalt flapped his wings and took flight. “Follow my lead.”

Eole moved to grab Simon from behind while her brother did the same with Belzemine. Simon already knew the kish were much stronger than they looked, but her arms felt like tight chains around his chest.

“This may be a bit of a bumpy ride,” Eole warned him as she took flight, lifting him up in the air with casual ease. Simon had spent enough hours practicing Darkflight that he wasn’t bothered all that much by it.

The group followed Tybalt into the air without much ado. They followed the winds and ascended far higher than the atmospheric region where Simon confronted Dassein, higher than stratus and cumulus clouds.

Simon could feel the air growing thinner and colder the more they ascended, though Eole and the other kish appeared utterly unperturbed. They pushed through higher than the highest of peaks known to mankind, past the sea of clouds where only airships dared to venture. He began to struggle to breathe a bit as they flew past the top of cumulonimbuses; the sky turned into a fluffy white floor under an endless blue expanse.

There was nothing to see besides nothingness, until Simon caught a whiff of the mana in the air. It was so subtle he didn’t think anybody without Visionary senses would have picked up on it; a slight inflection in the air, a translucent curve that bent the clouds slightly like a mirage in the desert sun. A veil of mana altered the horizon by creating a strange optical illusion.

Then the sky ate Tybalt.

There was no other way to describe it. The azure blue of the horizon warped and twisted around until the chieftain vanished from view. It was a spectacle as mesmerizing as it was disturbing.

“Here we are,” Eole said as Simon felt the mana pushing back against him, like a veil of water or a change in pressure. They crossed into a pocket of warm air as the sky twisted and bent. “It will be quite the sight.”

Simon blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, heaven had filled the empty sea of clouds.

The illusion protecting the Kish Sanctuary shattered in an instant and revealed the surreal truth hidden from the sight of imperial airships: an archipelago of beautiful, tropical islands gliding gently on a sea of clouds. They floated like ships or pieces of earthen crust, their bottom half shining from raw manalith veins infusing them, their surface covered in green meadows, forests, and lush lakes. Flying creatures like the kish, giant birds, or even giant manta rays glided on the wind rather than water, moving among them without a care in the world. The air was far thicker and warmer than the altitude would suggest, almost tropical, and Simon could finally breathe normally again.

Simon didn’t think it was possible to fall in love at first sight with a place, but as he looked onto the beautiful wonder stretching before him, he couldn’t do so much as utter a single word. Even Belzemine appeared touched and astonished, a brief flash of wonder breaking through her emotionless expression.

You have crossed a barrier. You can no longer teleport, and divinations will be interfered with.

“This… this is wonderful,” Simon muttered.

“It is, isn’t it?” Eole smiled fondly. “I missed it so much.”

This… this lives up to the tales and more, Simon thought as he watched from on high, so mesmerized by this spectacle he couldn’t align two thoughts together. I didn’t imagine something so beautiful existed somewhere in this world.

True to Eole’s description, four major islands formed the brunt of the Sanctuary’s landmass; they could have likely rivaled the size of Bujan when put all together, though dozens if not hundreds of smaller floating rocks escorted their bigger cousins on their journey across the sky. Those smaller pieces seemed to form a stairway to the east leading up to the sun itself until Simon’s eyes couldn’t see where they ended.

The largest of the islands housed a colossal palm manatree surrounded by a pristine lake backed by beaches and shimmering waterfalls. The one on its left was the greenest of them, with Simon catching sight of villages and buildings near the edge, while the one on the right appeared mostly covered in sand, rocks, and sharp peaks with little vegetation.

“This is Zephyr,” Eole explained as she turned to the leftmost island, “My home.”

Simon marveled at it when another wonder welcomed them with a melodious roar. He looked up to find a great and magnificent avian creature circling above the archipelago. It was slightly bigger than Casval, but far more beautiful and lively. The beast resembled a four-legged cockatrice clad in antique golden armor with great multicolored wings of green and blue feathers, crimson scales, and a serpentine tail. Its movements left a golden trail behind them, like a comet flying through the sky.

“The Sky-Father himself has come to greet us,” Eole said, grinning. “It is a great honor.”

Simon had already faced eidolons in the past, but never had he looked upon one with his Dark Visionary senses before. The creature’s nature as a magical construct was obvious from the way its body was made of mana. A notification popped up when Simon studied it more closely.

Sky-Father Vayan

Level 60 Eidolon of the Sky, Birds, Valor, and the Kish People.

Avian/Divine

Their strongest eidolon and protector, their god, was three levels lower than Simon himself. These people indeed stood no chance against Endymion should they, nay, when they learned of the Sanctuary’s existence.

Simon didn’t recall ever receiving a notification informing him of an eidolon’s name and nature when he encountered the likes of Azulbolla and the Phoenix though. Was that a sign of his new Dark Visionary powers?

Tybalt led the group to a settlement on Zephyr’s edge. Orchards along the steep, rocky cliffs overseeing the sea of clouds housed a variety of fruit trees Simon didn’t recognize and various elevated stone and marble dwellings, each with their own lot of terraces. Most resembled multi-tier pyramids and domes in the same style as the old kish capital, and were clustered around a large plaza where hundreds of kish villagers gathered to trade fruit, cotton garments, and winged fishes. Quite a few looked up to Simon in surprise when they flew over them, likely because most had never seen a human before.

Eole and Ruto eventually gently dropped Belzemine and Simon atop a three-floor brick pyramid, at the foot of which stood a bulky stone statue mostly covered in vegetation.

“This dwelling has been unoccupied for many moons, since its occupants perished in a plague,” Tybalt explained after joining them, “You are free to dwell here.”

“We will bring you all the amenities you need,” Ruto promised Belzemine. “Manaliths are plentiful here, so you should have no issue with the elven sickness.”

“I can sense the raw mana in the air,” Belzemine concurred. Simon himself had never seen such concentration outside of places like the Goetia Research Facility.

“This is all very beautiful, but I have a question,” Simon said as he looked around. “Where are the stairs to the lower floors?”

Eole chuckled. “We don’t use stairs, Simon,” she admitted sheepishly. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Take your time to settle in, then Ruto will bring you to the Sky-Father to receive his blessing,” Tybalt said, patting Simon on the shoulder. “Welcome to your new home, child of the earth.”