The Aatra-Shii Islands

[Emperor of shadows]

The Aatra-Shii Islands

They are a place of forgotten tragedy; tranformed from death and turned into life. The Aatra-Shii Islands are the remnants from the Spine of Chaos, but wonderfully gifted in a diverse and competitive group of people. This year they are hosting a competition, one of great esteem. The Great World Race. The Aatra-Shii Islands, along with the other, Island-Nations of Eternum are to be the rest stops for racers, as they glide from one end to the next, competing for the grand prize: Immortality.  

[Emperor of shadows]

So this was it.
The day couldn't have gotten any better for the Great World race, Trazeus-Tor's three moons had risen high in the sky: Seia, Saiun, and Aelmiin, halfway across between the horizon to meet the dim sun, Oromis.
Their multicolored spheres illuminated the man looking up at them, a man aged only 19 years, a set of silver intelligences claiming to understand the concepts of the bodily heavens. He stared back down to the sky-decks peered around the hustle-bustle of the Aatra-Shii.
The world was a series of green and violet islands, overgrown with exotic tropical plants, and the living stations set up in any piece of rock of the hundreds that were flat enough.
Several Sky-Sailors were preparing for their world-wide flight, burly men and strapped up women each in a different spectrum of movement along the wooden docks.
The docks themselves stretched from island to island, a network of bridges, pulleys, and boards, to harbor in their one valuable claim: Airships.
Airships of all sizes hovered in repose along the Aatra-Shii docks, some so small, the man string at them could imagine only a scant crew of three to pilot some, and some so large, he marveled how they'd even float-- masses of wood, metal and rope.
Of course, colors comprised these dimensions was just as intense a variation. The man felt as if he was in a field of painted balloons, and with the sound of the island's bells, they would be cast off into the blue-green infinities of the sky, though the atmos and into space.
The man literally had made a three-sixty by the time he snapped back to the present.
With a twitch, he clicked his tongue in annoyance and adjusted the goggled spectacles on his face. He then set off, down these very docks to his own vessel.
The Astrasium's scholarship programs had accosted the man with only the best they could afford, which, although the ship was elegant in design, and had the versatility necessary to handle a variety of weather situations, he wasn't sure if it was large enough to fit all of the scholarly equipment he was preparing to bring on board.
Starting with several trunks of wind measuring equipment, sextants, and sundials, the man remembered very vividly what the Astrasium sponsors had told him:
/”Only bring the most essential items with you, Justerian. Your journey will not be easy, and we would not to have to incur any...” The council paused for just a fraction of a second, a second Justerian noted, “...Losses.”/
Justerian left the Astrasium with nigh a shiver and a single suitcase with the most basic of amenities, hoping that it would be enough with what was provided on board.
The ships' name was the /Aethella/, based on the Goddess of Endless Query; Justerian understood that the nature of his journey was to fulfill these queries, to bring back valuable information on the climates and lands of Aeternum to the Astrasium. Yet with this in mind the man could not help but to wonder at the Grand prize.
“To be Immortal...” Justerian whispered bounding across the boardwalk, turning here and there, following the hastily scribbled directions he provided himself earlier with.
It was nothing short of amazing, Justerian had pondered many days and nights the solutions of death.
/Death is a disease./
Who was it that said that-- Oh yes, Justerian's good colleague, Asavion, still brimming with the delight of the 'Grand' endeavor-- “You're going to be immortal. Tell me all about it on the otherside, my friend.” Asavion was always too idealistic. If anyone was going to be immortal, it would be that Carmine-scaled Halfing, grinning with excitement.
“But here I am.” Justerian spoke this aloud, regarding where the fool-proof directions had sent him.
There he was, at the /Aethella/, a beautiful bronze vessel, the length of a thirty pacing, designed with beauty and efficiency in mind. The taupe balloon to suspend the hovering vessel was still not yet at operational level, crew were prepping it-- a crew of 15 sturdy young men and women, a crew that Justerian would soon find his place in.  

[Emperor of shadows]

((The prize goes to the whole crew! biggrin But the details of how it's given is a mystery. Here's my post! ^^))

Justerian was aboard the ship in an instant, marching up the boardwalk and onto the hull, immersed in the swarming activity of getting settled in.
Taking his belongings to his cabin, a cozy room towards the bow of the Aethella, he sought to place all gear of measuring, calculating and quantifying the world of Aeternum about the ship.

Justerian didn't realize how much time went by-- this was not uncommon for the youth, but soon the form of a girl stopping outside of the ship brought his attentions outward. Her still form was something poignant in the moving bustle of the port, stillness in the storm.

He stood up straighter, looking at the girl with curious pale green eyes. “Hello!” He called, above the sounds of the port. He stopped what he was doing and came down to her-- obviously because of the way she was dressed, the girl would be a part of the student crew. “You must be the newest member.” Justerian was cheerful, his eyes were wide with excitement.
“Come, I can show you to your quarters and give you a debriefing as we depart. Most of the prep work is almost done, we'll be casting away soon.”

He readjusted his spectacles and led the girl up the boardwalk, onto the ship which was now hovering with more intent.
The burners were on, their crystal batteries holding the essential spellbound magics to fuel them.

“So, here's the gondola, the rudder, the engine, the elevator...”

They continued on down a deck hatch, to the criss-cross'd metal floor, to the front of the ship. “And your room,” He said gesturing at the bronzed door. “I'll meet you on the bridge with the other three students to consolidate our data!”
He was about to turn to leave, when some other fail safe deployed in his mind, “Ah, apologies-- I'm afraid I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Justerian. And you are...?” He began to search in his satchel for some type of scribbled clue as to the girl's identity, with little avail.
Any clues were lost in that bag long ago.  

[Emperor of shadows]

*~*~*~*


The journey was wrought ten rotations later when the two made it to Diallerin. Although harrowed in journey with the constant threat of the two nobles ensuing, they managed to continually elude their captors.

With any scraps of daylight rotation remaining, the two took up more practical training skills and, if not anything-- increased the pace of their operations.

Through hills of flattening heights, through forests in day and night, they arrived in the Capital city of the Arkedon Kingdoms. To both of their surprises, they were early, and in the end, could fly to the Aatra Shii on board a large cargo vessel.

In rotations of three, they made it to the Aatra-Shii before the race had begun-- leaping off of the cargo ship moments before it landed, and spiriting away into the Aatra-islands.

As they trotted on the oddly buoyant docks, made this way, Froxxe later learned, that they could reconnect and change docks, that every change was on schedule, every day.

Froxxe remarked in solemn murmur, “I thought we were going to be late...?” He asked with a betrayed grin turning his head away, the hint of a frown on a tired, but more healthier face.
Noir's mouth curved down into a skepticism-- “We needed to maximize time. And we succeeded.” She nodded curtly,

Later after purchasing more airship paraphernalia, she looked him over,
“You know,your dreams of gods reflects upon you.” Once she had a proper look at him, she realized that the boy had a certain glow about him, a eminence that poured from his vision. Yet not as bright as a full god, it was much like the knighting stars among the wash of black space.

At this point they acquired a new armaments as well, Froxxe pulled back his blue-grey hair into a braid, and replaced the rags with leathers and neutral fabrics and hood extended-- a continence just tough enough, and conspicuous enough to pass.

Noir acquired a new cloak, in addition to a new repertoire of weapons, a smart angled look.

She spoke, walking though the web-works of dock and island, her eyes poised for any possible threat, taking in the surroundings.

The air ships were an amazing sight, a field of color and life. Froxxe's knowledge of Aeternum was expanding and complexifying very quickly-- here new objects were discerned and apprehended, a growing compendium of connecting information.

He saw the same strange objects from the ocean from earlier, poignant metal objects of dubious composition and intention.

Froxx learned that these objects were apparatuses of war, that each core would detonate minute amounts of a substance called Black Radiation. This substance would infect all those in contact to have all magic, and all that's connected to it act in sporadic and dangerous ways.

It is an uncontrollable force, destroying all those in it's path, but as Froxxe quickly learned, these places of plague were focused on one specific continent: Shattrius-Oniah.

Although the two were in no immediate danger, the threat bloomed more and more as the active Spine of Chaos escalated the use of the substance.

Regardless, the two turned about their business with this mind, yet another factor to play into matters of safety.

The area was busier, more crowded and more active than Diallerin if that were to be believed, a maze of sentient life.

The two walked with purpose on the decks, scanning vessel after vessel to find a with a crew with the /appropriate/ parameters.

The two discussed it earlier-- they would find a crew of mostly academic endeavors, a group with likely less ardor as the other notably hardy and burly lot of Sky-Sailors.

As the ship would set to sail, Froxxe would use whatever magic he could muster up to keep the crew still enough for them to understand the importance of his travel. They'd have to be quick and precise about what the importance is and how it can help them with their own goals.

If that didn't work, the alternative would be-- Well, they'd figure that out when they got there.

Sixhundred-step later, they found themselves with an appropriate vessel, and Noir looked pleased as she smiled up at it-- a small bronze airship named the /Aethella/.

*~*~*~*


[And Justerian's story will be posted shortly!]  

[Emperor of shadows]

*~*~*~*

“Starboard bow,” Spoke the student-Justerian, as he made his final inspection of the Aethella,
“Check.” He peered down at the brown scrap of paper that detailed the parameters of their travels, each a expended box. As he filled in the last box on the scrap, the male could feel a well of excitement rise up within him once again. He gave a broad smile, which apparently caught the attention of another crew-mate.

“Are you ready, student?” Asked a bearish man in leather coveralls, a crew-member that Justerian soon associated as Metren.

“Of course!” He beamed back, felling quite certain that he was ready the moment the Astrasium proposed the opportunity.

In the distance of the Aatra-Shii,a phantom voice spoke, it's sound amplified by the storage houses placed decisively about the islands,
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Aatra-Shii-- Welcome to the Eightieth Tri-Annual Great World Race!”

Silence first-- then cheers all about the sky-- as sailors from every ship returned the greeting with fervent gusto. Justerian noted, even, that he too let an earnest shout escape his lungs.

The voice continued, it's rings decidedly artificial, a hallow echo following every word, “You are two-hundred of Aeternum's finest crews, assembled here to put your Essences to the test.”
A pause. More cheer.

“And to the brilliant crew that can travel to all of Aeternum's checkpoints and back here will receive our much admired, much hailed, much envied Grande Prize-- Given to the winners by the God Criexdrian himself-- The prize, of course being...”
A pause. Inoculated silence.

“Immortality.”

Suddenly, the Aatra-Shii was louder than before, the excitement reaching a crescendo, excitement and all sorts of emotions running high. The voice laughed, bringing the throng Sky-Sailors back to focus.

“I pray you all are ready, because your Race begins in:Three-two-one, NOW!” At the word 'now' a shrill sound, likely magical in origin, punctuated the air, starting the series of actions that would eventually lead to some lucky crew's Immortality.

Turning away from the voice, Justerian smiled triumphantly from his position on the top deck.

The burners' concentrated heat extended an aureole of white light, then azure, as the magical spheres of energy surged and swirled beneath the burners.

On deck with perhaps five other crew members, Justerian could feel the warm draft of northern currents surge beneath the ship, guiding the vessel up towards the desired altitude, something for easy navigation and fleet flight.

With his eyes now on his altimeter, they sailed through various cloud layers-- cumulus, stratus, nimbus-- all just beneath the cirrus(thank the gods for that Sky Watcher Chart)-- the wind rushing past his face and his less-than-drawn-back hair whipping about his face.

Peering away from the bronze calculator, Justerian could see the rest of the ships rising, the grandeur displaying all over again.

Justerian grinned at how far his studies got him, here now, in the sky, to study all of Aeternum.

/“If only Asavion and Arrulien could see me now!”/

At the thought, he was instantly reminded of the lengths that Asavion went to get him here, and the effort Arrulien spent on preparing Justerian, academically and otherwise.

He turned smartly around, heading up a steep set of stairs on the second level of the outer deck, to the very front of the Aethella. The captain, a wiry woman with greying hair under the name Sverra, was seen surrounded by a nexus of glass to meet the underbelly of the balloon.

Justerian noted with awe, her eyes shrewd on the task before her, and her hands switching between the series of levers and buttons at the ship's helm to the navigation orb at it's center, a glowing ball of lit up points to correspond to various parts of the ship.

The ship was sailing aside many other ships, with many different designs, some more updated than Aethella, and others of older designs-- nonetheless, Aethella retained her pace swift, keeping up with even the most advanced ships around.

“Brilliant,” Murmured Justerian, impressed and slightly bewildered. He joined Sverra at her side, eager to observe the workings of a navigation orb.

She glanced up at him with a face of smiling age, wrinkles of laughter and sincerity, “You should know, young scholar, we've a fine vessel, here.”

Justerian inclined his head, apt to agree but wanting to know more. Sverra continued, “Ye see, half of the Aethella is good mechanics, and the other half is magic, that way no matter what the other ships may throw at us, we'll still have a backup.”

She beamed, her attentions still firmly upon the navigation orb, fingers spinning over it, connecting and reconnecting various glowing points.

Justerian absorbed her words, then realized with a start that there was something parlous in her statement-- “Wait, the other ships may throw things at us?” He sputtered this out before she could add anything else.

Sverra nodded, prodding at a particular spot on the orb several times with an adamant index finger before the ship lurched forward, accelerating faster now.
“Aye, they'll do more than that-- there have been complete sabotages in the past, ships falling right out of the sky!”

No, no, this was all wrong, thought the scholar, Justerian clearly remembered in the information scroll that the Astraisum provided him explaining that no such meddling was allowed, for it was means of disqualification.

Sverra went on to elaborate, “'Course, they can't get caught, if so, they'll recive a mighty boot to th'rear.” The captain was chuckling now, her fear for a predicament like so as distant as ever.

If the captain were, however, to look at the scholar she addressed, she'd realize his skin was perhaps a shade paler, as the dangers of their situation set in on him with all of it's realities.

“Keep yer eyes peeled!” She added in a jovial tone, as Justerian found himself walking back down from the top deck, down the stairs, to his cabin below.

But the student did not make it that far, in fact, it was only as he stepped back onto the first deck did he hear it.

A low thud, right at the center of the ship. He froze in place, he could feel his ears twitch as he detected the sound above the wind.
Then, he heard it again.
Clang. This time he could feel it going right through the soles of his boots, freezing the male in place.

He realized all too soon what was happening, and before his mind could process information further, the words were pouring from his lips, a great anxiety in their toils: “We're being subverted!”
 

[Emperor of shadows]

[For the sake of the story, I rewrote just a bit of your post. The beginning, however, was so perfect, it could hardly be changed. Do excuse any strange sentences, I wrote it so fast, I could have easily gotten caught up in it. Heh. ]

Thud!

A man hit the ground.

Thud!

Then another, Froxxe could hear the metal of the mans' equipment clang against the bronze catwalk, below the sordid sound of skull on an adjacent pipe.

He flinched, watching the eyes of the former men and women lull back from the Succubus might. If they hadn't passed out yet, they were sure as Shattria were seeing stars-- “Hell.” Froxxe heard Noir mutter, placing the iconic iron axe back over her shoulder, satisfied and grinning.

“Noir, when I said we should convince the crew to help us, I did not mean to assault them.” He spoke wistfully, as if he wasn't apart of the action that he was condoning.
Noir's crimson eye was smiling back at the boy without her mouth having to move, “You wanted an airship. We're going to take it over.”
“You're going to get us killed.” He added dourly, carefully stepping over the body of a groaning patron of her abilities.
Noir looked amused in Froxxe's expression, smiling back her own, “That's where you're wrong, my dear. I've an ace up my sleeve.”
Froxxe raised a questioning brow. “I hope it's not your spoken magics, because that--”
Noir cut him off, “No, no, I've got something much better.”
Froxxe said nothing more, but he knew that though his grey essences a plead for rationality met Noir's. She batted them away with 'innocent' eyelashes and turned back to the stairs with her goal in mind. In her gloved hand was a blue ball of what appeared to be yarn, but Froxxe could easily see now that it's smooth fibers were too perfect, it's round shape too uncanny to be anything but some type of magic.
Whatever is was that she intended on using, Froxxe knew better than to argue more.
Nearly two minutes off of the ground, and they we already taking names and incapacitating strangers.
“Lovely.” Muttered Froxxe, casting a last regretful look to the mess of crew members behind them and joined Noir as she hurried down the catwalk, and up a flight of stairs to the main deck.

Two steps at a time they raced, and just as Noir would reach the hatch above, it flung open, to reveal a set of pale green eyes staring below eked of supreme confoundment. A second later the eyes-- attached to a pale faced male, stumbled backwards, out of the way as Noir bounded up and out into the sunlight.

It took one second more for the green-eyed youth to realize who the sharp woman was; he opened his mouth, summoning up some scrap of command in his scholarly frame, “You there- stop!”

The scholar, with his thick bronze goggles did not seem very convincing.

“Whoa, whoa!” Replied Noir, flashing before him, “It's not good to have such thoughts in your head!” Already her spell was flowing around him, inundating his thoughts and persuading him opposite. He blinked once, his mouth still open from what he was attempting to say next, but the words froze in place, Noir triumphant. “Enjoy yourself boy! This is the Great Race after all! You should be excited.”
Now Noir was hovering vis-a-vis to the lad, a mere hair's breadth apart. “If you worry about such nonsense,” She purred, “You'll miss out on all the action.” She ended her statement with a satisfied flash of pearly whites, her head craning around to take up where they were at.

Two other air ships flanked the small bronze Aethella, one's balloon, considerably sized, of rich platinums, and the other's, smaller, of startling reds.

These three ships combined, were racing forward in the eastern wind currents, shifting and reeling in the atmospheric swell. Aethella lurched forward at captain’s will, through a dense cloud, where on the other side, the pointed scarlet ship was slightly behind. However, the platinum ship sailed ahead of them both, accelerating with a winning pace.
The boy saw this and a frown creased his already confused face.

Then, Noir saw something flash from the bow of the deadly-looking red vessel, a rod of silver fling through the air-- just nearly missing the top of Aethella's balloon, and sailing right into the center of the brilliant platinum cloth.

A horrible hiss ensued, as massive quantities of air rushed from the puncture of the platinum balloon, it's deflating sac crumpling up dejectley as the ship began to plummet to the tropical sea below.

Froxxe saw this too, and realized with the platinum balloon out of the Race, the Aethella, now ahead of the red balloon would be next.
“Noir-- hurry!” He called, stepping over to the edge of the deck to see figures far away loading another deadly stave of silver. Then, he turned, running towards the captain's deck.
Noir was ahead of the boy's words, stepping up the second set of stairs to the Capitan's control, her pumping legs taking them three at a time.
Before she reached the top she heard it-- the harsh swish of air being cleaved by a metal-- she could almost hear the sound of the punctured balloon-- but it never came, instead a glimmer sailed over the ship and disappeared, missing.

By now, the crew that the scholar had earlier notified(Or those that remained) had scrambled on deck, ignoring the woman clad in cloak, each in positions of defense as they took up their own weapons. Harpoons in hands the crew aimed at the other ship, sending their own assault of metals at the delicate red cloth.

Noir didn't see more, yet as the blue threads dripped from her fingertips to surround the body of the wiry captain in control.
“Capitan, a word?” She asked, turning around the Capitain before her with a twitch of her wrist, her threads connecting to the skin of the woman and possessing her movements.

Froxxe saw this, having joined his companion only moments before. He could see the threads glow with magic-- but this was a different sight than the voice she used earlier, this was a bound magic, it was somehow contained in the threads, now containing the captain's actions. Froxxe could also see, unlike those captured by the voice, a fear radiating from the woman's eyes, her mind very aware for the situation.
“Turn the ship around,” Noir ordered, twitching her hands like a marionette puppet. The woman turned back, her shaking hands touching the surface of the Navigation Orb. They were quivering, however, and as Froxxe's eyes widened at the tremendous source of contained magic before him, the ship sudden dipped, it's bow turning down towards the ocean.
Froxxe could feel his stomach raise in his throat, but then drop to his base as the ship righted itself, peaking up to dodge another deadly spike.
Froxxe looked at the way the captain was constantly prodding at points of light on the sphere, it, in return pulsing out light to the ship: There it was, a dot at the top, he could feel the ship surge left, then, one at the bottom, the elevator dropped, the ship rising.
He could see how the dots connected to one another, a collaborative web of light corresponding in an axis of circles-- complete!
Froxxe gasped as it call came to him, the magic inside of the orb screaming out. He knew that while the captain was seasoned with years of experience, her hands did not meet up the most precise of locations to get the ship do what she wanted-- she took too many steps--

Before Froxxe could stop himself, he ripped the orb out of the pedestal that it rested in, and his own fingers were gracing the surface, meeting each dot of light with relish. He could feel the magic on the other side of the orb responding to his touch, purring and cooing like a live force.

Suddenly, the ship lurched forward, faster than before, where wind whipped through his hair and his balance was thrown off, once again-- almost.
He braced himself this time, fingers spinning and dancing along the orb's glass face, hands moving like a blur.

Noir watched as Aethella turned in the sky, rounding the Red ship, perpendicular to it's spike cannons.
She could see, one hundred step ahead a man's lips curl into a smirk as he realized that the Aethella was in a perfect position to destory.
He lifted a palm, and a barrage-- six spikes launched from their decks, screaming in synchronized precision.
Froxxe saw this too, immediately, his hands which had been working in a clockwise manner flipped, the orb inverted, and now they were moving faster, bringing together several points of light and letting them spin away before recombining them again.

She uttered a loud swear as she watched the harpoons draw close to the Aethella turning and dropping-- not fast enough, it was tenstep away-- and then--
Silence.

Aethella continued it's turning descent until the red airship was in no position to attack them-- less they risk their position of first place.

Froxxe held the orb in his hands, unmoving, the ship glided forward, south of it's intended path. The crew did not notice however, in the silence drawn from holding one's breath came a collected sigh, released as a relaxed draft of warm air enveloped the airship.

Then, cheers, the threat averted.

Noir did not have anything to say to the crew below, who were obviously still obvious of the ships' double-handed mutiny.
The capitain squired under the blue strands of spell, her clenched jaw managing to get out a few words: “You may release me now.”
Noir met her gaze and shooke her head. “Sorry, sweets, but I can't do that. We need to use this airship here, you see.”

A sound of footsteps on metal brought Noir's gaze back to the stairs where a familiar head of black hair and green eyes rose onto the capitain's deck.
His eyes, which had been vacant earlier had gained some amount of their lucidity. “You, “ Began the male, staring at Noir and Froxxe, his quavering voice unstable, as if he would begin to scream. “You have saved us!” He joined them on deck with a grin, noting the ugly dot of red fading away in the distance.

“Capitain, if I may--” He began, stepping over to the woman, “For the services that these two provided, I think that we should at least hear them out.”
Noir scoffed. Was the scholar serious? Evidently he did not yet see the pile of bodies that she left behind.
The captain stared at him with strained hazel eyes before, giving a sharp nod of her head.
Noir released the woman, her blue yarn curling back into her gloves and becoming again the shape of a ball.

The captain stumbled once, gaining her balance, looking at Froxxe and Noir with an expression of anger and wonder. “What is it that you want, exactly-- Seeing as you've taken it upon yourself to sneak on board and likely apprehend my crew.” She was bitter, Noir struggled to keep her face neutral, rather than to glare at the woman.
Froxxe's cool, calm voice answered-- If Noir knew the boy at all, she imagined he would be the one to persuade her.
“Miss, I come to you with a very important task.” He began, gently setting the Navigation orb back on it's wire suspension. “If you know anything about the Spine of Chaos, you know how deadly it's substances are.”
She gave Froxxe a steely look. “I'm listening.”
“You should similarly be aware of how these substances are used for war, correct?”
As Noir listened to boy speak, she was beginning to hear a bold conviction come through it's soft tones, something that told her that the boy had grown much more than when she first met him.
The captain nodded.
“Well, it's to my deepest regrets that I must inform you of this...Shattria Oniah is not the only place that is going to bleed the Black Radiation.”
The capitain's cold look paused, caught by a sudden realization. Even Noir rechecked his words.
The captian sounded irate once more, narrowing her eyes into suspicion. “ What are you talking about, lad-- This had better not be some ruse.”
Froxxe began shaking head, appearing more grave than ever, “No, I'm afraid I'm not lying; this is the dark truth. The Black Radiation is going to be released over all of Aeternum.”
Noir could not believe her ears. “Froxxe, why didn't you tell me this earlier?”
He turned to her with an intense gaze. “Because I learned just today. I dreamed of the Black Radiation as we made our way here, but I never thought it to be real. In my dream...Criexdrian said he would cover the entire globe with it.”

His voice rang cold in Noir's ears, if that were the case, that would spell ruin to everything that lived around her. She saw with her own eyes the effects of Black Radiation, and she couldn't imagine it spreading everywhere.

Froxxe's frosty voice cut into her thoughts, “But that's not all he said.”
There was silence on the captian's deck. “He said he was preparing the forces steadily since the Spine of Chaos shattered Oniah, and would release his wrath on...Day 00243, the month of Decemnus, after 103 years of circling...”
His voice faded out, as the boy recalled the details of Crixdrian's words.
Froxxe turned to the scholar, “What's your name?”
The youth blinked once, “Justerian.”
“Justerian, what's the date?”
The student did not need a shiny piece of equipment to provide this, he rattled off the date just like he would have in his classes,
“Day 00213, the month of Novaxer, year 100314.”

“Then, that is most grave.” He turned back to the three pairs of eyes assembled before him, their faces of petition answering to his next words, “The Black Radiation will be released in 30 rotations from now. Ladies and gentlemen, we have three weeks to stop it."