Young Writers Society

Like Fire & Ice

Starring
Aracelis “Ace” (Adonis) var Ardys (@ScarlettFire)
&
Corrick (Idora) Malair (@Omni)

A large cruise and transport airship named The Leviathan is set to start its maiden voyage in a historic route from Synua to Astyria in the first step to a more symbiotic relationship between the two empires, giving both much needed support. However, the beginning of this new air trade route is a threat to both the Idora and Adonis families. So they send an operative to work undercover to bring this airship down.

It's been two days since the Leviathan's launch from Synua. There had been no problems so far.

Corrick Malair stood atop one of the many decks of the impressive ship, taking in the sights of Synilas' rolling plains. On the horizion, he could faintly make out the glass cliffs that bordered part of Asturia and Synilas' north. He could make out the bustling port city of Koresh as they sailed away from it.

They were above Nila, the city that bordered Asturia and Synilas. The Leviathan would be leaving Synilas territory within the evening. That reinforced the horrid feeling in his stomach that something was going to go awry.

The familiar smell of the evening air filled the deck, and Corrick took in a deep breath. It was his favorite time of day. And one he was all too familiar with. It was always a time of waiting for him. He did not enjoy the dusk or the twilight.

Perhaps that was why he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. Old habits die hard.

"Sir?" A voice pestered him from behind.

He placed his most polite smile on his face, and turned around. "Yes?"

"Master Malair," the man bowed deeply. Corrick stifled the urge to roll his eyes. He hated these fake niceties. It was one of the reasons why he left court politics long ago. One of many. The man raised his shoulders. "I hope you have taken these past two days to settle in, sir. The Captain would like to formally invite you to the Crystal Ballroom this evening, for a night of exquisite dining and entertainment."

Corrick started a sigh, but his training forced him to let it out slowly, as to not show his true emotions. He nodded politely. "Please tell your Captain that I would be honored to receive this invitation."

The servant bowed deeply in acceptance. "The Captain looks forward to seeing you there. The event will be in a couple of hours, so you have time to prepare."

If there was a place to keep an eye on anyone important in this ship, it was at that ballroom. He would have to mentally prepare himself for a night of politics and walking on eggshells. His smile soured, and he headed to his room.

It's been two days since the Leviathan's launch from Synua. There had been no problems so far.

Corrick had a feeling that would change tonight.

Aracelis leaned against the Leviathan’s railing, peering over the edge and down at the swiftly darkening landscape below as the sun began to set. She grinned widely, leaning a little further over and revelled in her hair being whipped back from her face. For a brief moment, she forgot all about her mission and that there was probably an Idora on board, and just enjoyed herself. Ace loved airships, and she was disappointed that she would have to stop someone from bring it down instead of just enjoying herself, but at least she could--hopefully--have some fun while she doing so.

“Miss!” Ace frowned, not quite sure if she heard something. “Excuse me, miss!”

She turned and stared at the poor, harried attendant rushing towards her at a fast walk. “Yes?”

“Please don’t lean over the railing!” the man called, stumbling to a stop beside her and grabbed for her arm. Ace deftly side-stepped him before his hand made contact with her silky sleeve. “You could fall and then we’d all be in trouble!”

“We?” Ace asked with a raised eyebrow and the attendant flushed dramatically. She sighed and dropped back onto the ‘safe’ side of the railing, twisting to lean back against it and give the poor man a flirty, air-headed smile. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

He stuttered for a moment and then flapped his hands at her. “Oh, oh, ohohoh, it’s fiiiine,” he said and smiled back. “Just...just...try not to do it again, alright? We really wouldn't want one of the Emperor's cousins to have an unfortunate accident!”

“Of course not, so sure I'll be good!”

The poor man looked nervous as he hesitated, shifting uncomfortable. "Uh, Miss var Ardys?"

"Yes?" she asked, keeping the smile in place.

"The Captain would like to invite you to the Crystal Ballroom this evening, for a night of exquisite dining and entertainment."

Ace hesitated, glancing down the length of the balcony deck, spotting a man being spoken to by another attendant. She frowned and dragged her gaze back to the man in front of her. "He does?"

"Ah...yes, Miss var Ardys," the man said, bobing his head slightly. "He very much wishes to ensure that the Emperor is happy with Asturia's investment."

Great, she thought sourly, politics.

"Then I would be honoured to attend at his invitation," Ace told him, smiling brightly.

The man seemed to brighten. "Lovely!" he exclaimed excitedly, and Ace fought the urge to grimace. "It's in a few hours, so you have time to change...and please, don't lean over the railing like that again!"

"Sure!" she chirped and pushed off the railing, smiling brightly. “Bye!”

As she skipped away, she could hear the man muttering to himself about stupid, air-headed girls and smirked. He wouldn’t be saying that later when she stopped someone from bring the airship down. She'd already placed countless runes throughout the ship so that she'd be alerted to anything that might happen--such as the magical bombs some idiot thought would be a brilliant idea to bring onboard. Honestly, where was a challenge when she needed it?

Corrick has a smaller apartment in one of the upper floors of the cabins. It was a room reserved for minor nobility, which Corrick Malair would most likely fit that description.

But, the real Corrick? If they only knew who he truly was, he would be reserved one of the largest, most exorbitant rooms they had in this flying shell.

He opened the intricately decorated door and stepped in. He preferred this place, anyway. He glanced around the space. It was a merged room that had a divider as a sort of makeshift wall. The bed was in the middle, a small food area was on the right, and the toiletry and self care area was on the left.

He locked the door behind him and sat down on the bed. To be completely honest, he did not settle in like the servant had assumed. He had spent the time scouting out the massive ship, and this was only the second time he had actually been in his room.

He had not actually known about the Leviathan up until two weeks before its launch. By then, security provided by the Queen and the Royal Guard. So, he really did not have a chance to survey the ship.

Then again, missions rarely went according to plan. A part of the mission was to expect the unexpected.

Corrick expected resistance to this endeavor.

Corrick expected political rivalry.

Corrick expected something disastrous.

He pulled out a bag. He only brought a few, and while servants offered assistance, he trusted no one aboard this ship. There was no reason not to assume he was not the only spy aboard, Synilas, Asturian, or otherwise.

While unpacking everything, he laid it all out on the covers, piece by piece. It was half practice from his earlier years, and half necessity.

Potions, several different knives, different types of clothing, small runic contraptions, and more. He didn't bother naming them in his head, there were so many and he knew all of them by heart at this point. Still, it was important he skimmed them.

He unpacked all three bags fully. His attention was focused on the runic traps. He picked through the multitude of ones, and picked out a protection trap.

He focused his attention on the room itself. He closed his eyes and expanded his focus more broadly. Primal Sense, his teachers called it when he was younger. It was a forbidden practice to all but those they want in the background.

Magic.

Meh, hypocrites, the lot of them.

Corrick re-focused his attention on the room. He pushed his sense of self outward. He could feel the Hextech veins running through the airship as they pulsed around his room. They made it hard for him to go much further than that. This whole damned ship ran on magic. He could faintly sense people in the rooms next to him. Usually he was able to make them out far better, like features and sometimes even conversations. For now, he just knew they were there.

His focus was not on that, though. His focus was on any lingering magic around his room. Perhaps someone had already realized he was there and figured out his true name.

Nothing. Of course there was nothing. He was just being paranoid. His profession was being paranoid. He could never be too safe.

He coiled back into himself. His vision blurred and his stomach churned. It was a side effect of using magic. His teachers told him it was Ryda's way of reminding humans that magic was never theirs and to not take advantage of Her gift. That sense of uncomfortability was a reminder and a warning. Take too much, and Ryda takes it all.

Once he stabilized, he grabbed the protection rune and snuck it nest to the thick window at the back of the room. He whispered an activation word, and the rune hummed to life.

Now one room was secure. Out of hundreds. One step at a time.

She had one of larger, more exorbinant rooms on the airship, one that had multiple rooms and a private balcony. Ace studied the room for a moment before turning to the two servants she'd had to bring with her. She would havce preferred not to have them, but, well, they were needed to maintain her cover as a cousin to the Emperor. Which she was, but still. Besides, some of the dresses she'd been provided with needed an extra pair of hands--or two--to put on. Ace sighed and gestured for the two women with her to attend her.

Together, the two of them got her out of the silky day dress she'd been wearing and into the soft, sleeveless ballgrown she'd requested. It was pretty, made of gauzy fabric with an open back and plenty of skirt--which also meant plenty of places to hides things, like the blade strapped to her thigh and the lockpicks attached to one of her ankles, disguised as a pretty anklet.

It had been a long day, but she was looking forwards to this dinner, absently checking over his runic jewellery for the protection rune she often wore as her attendants fluffed out the skirt so she wouldn't trip on it and braided her hair before pulling up into a bun. She'd already checked and rechecked her gear, and had also set up the runic trap by the balcony doors before she'd left the cabin. In fact, that had been the first thing she'd one before scouting the ship. It was such a pretty ship.

Pity someone wanted to bring it down out of the sky.

Ace sighed and gently picked up the protection rune, turning to offer it to one of her servants so the woman could drape it about her neck. Once secure, it sat just above her clevage. She smirked and turned to check her appearance in the mirror, then nodded approvingly. She looked appropriately noble. It would definitely work to throw people off their game--and her trail.

Now changed and approapriately attired for a noble attending a dinner, she turned and swept out of the apartment. It was a decent walk to the Crystal Ballroom, and she'd probably be passing some of the lesser nobles' cabins, which couldn't be helped. Perhaps she could convince someone to escort her to the ballroom?

Ace smiled brillantly, gathering part of her skirt up into one hand as she descended a set of stairs. That was a brilliant idea.

After a good twenty minutes of struggling to get into his formal suit, he finally finished, out of breath and hair a mess.

He was getting too old for this. He had hoped to stick to the spy game for a few more years. Maybe even a decade. But every minute he spent talking to royals docked a year from his life.

After a moment of just laying there on his bed, he gained the willpower to eventually face reality and get up. He wasn't finished prepping for the eventful evening, after all.

He glanced at himself in the mirror. A marroon and brown corset hugged his insides. It was Synilas tradition, after all, for nobles to wear things that would indicate they would never step foot on soil and get their hands dirty.

For Corrick, this meant another layer beneath his vest and suit. Which mean easy hiding for vials and small weapons. He spent a few minutes sorting through and picking the ones he wanted and needed. Who knew how things would end up tonight. Hopefully not terribly.

He picked up his coat jacket. It would be a bit chilly after all. It was adorned in the Malair colors, maroon and black. It was not a traditional jacket, of course. No one could wear that to an occasion like this. No, it was a swallowtail jacket, with pointed ends behind him that went close to his knees. He thought it looked ridiculous. But a part of him enjoyed it, he had to admit. He was never allowed to do this as a child. It was part of the reason why he always felt like an outsider to these people. In another life, he should have felt them as peers.

In another life, perhaps. He sighed.

Something poked him in the back of his mind, and his eye twitched. His Sense. Someone just passed his room with magic. Fairly strong magic, if he were to feel it through the Hextech veins running through this place constantly.

He glanced outside of the small peek-hole on his door. No one was there. He could Sense the feeling fading. Taking a breath, he stealthily opened the door and glanced down the hall. He noticed a flash of stunning blue and purple before the person vanished out of view. He closed the door back and glanced at the sky. It was getting close to dusk. Time's fading.

He packed a dagger under each forearm sleeve, and took one last glance in the mirror.

Let's do this.

Ace had, in fact, found a willing young nobleman to escort her to the ballroom, but she could tell he was distinctly uncomfortable with it. She didn't really care--he was just part of her cover. Truthfully, he was unrelated to her mission, but that didn't mean she couldn't have a little fun with him in the meantime.

"Thank you so much for showing me to the ballroom!" she said brightly, turning towards the young man and patting his arm reassuringly. "I think I can find my way from here, though, so off you go, dear."

"Not a problem," he told her, inclining his head before they parted ways and he wandered over towards a mostly occupied table.

Ace smiled pleasantly, watching him go before she gathered up her skirt and turned to look for the Captain. She'd seen him before, when he'd greeted her upon boarding...but now she couldn't quite remember what the man looked like. Frowning, she smoothed a hand over her corset--a beautiful work made of filigree silver--and cast a look about the room. Now, where would Captain be hiding? Hmm...

She picked a direction and headed for a slow, meanandering walk around the edges of the room, smiling politely to the other guests. It took several minutes for her to circle back around to the entrance she'd used, and she was getting bored. She'd been invited to a dinner, hadn't she? Where the hell was her host anyway?

Suddenly, a hand caught her wrist and tugged her back. Ace suppressed a grimace and turned to smile at whoever it was only to find one of the older guests standing there, grinning slightly. "Oh, hello! I didn't see you there!"

"Aren't you a sweet thing?" the man purred, tugging her even closer to him. She put a hand on his chest, trying to keep some space between them. Not one of those types of men, honestly... "Where were you off to in such a hurry, darling?"

Ace kept the smile on her face, tilting her head slightly. "Why, I was just looking for the Captain," she said, backing up a step only for the man to pull her in tight against his side, the grip on her wrist turning harsh. "Do you mind? That hurts."

"I don't think the Captain would be interested in a pretty little thing like you," the noble said, leaning in to put his lips by her ear. This time, she let herself grimace at the slimy feeling. "He wouldn't waste his time with a brat like you--"

"Do you even know who I am?" she asked lowly, trying to twist her wrist out of his grip. Ace considered going for her blade, but that might cause more problems than it would solve. She gritted her teeth and tugged against his hold, raising her voice. It made several people glance over. "You honestly can't mistake me for anyone else. I'm one of the highests ranking members of nobility on this airship!"

"Seriously?" the noble asked, disbelief evident in his tone. "You're trying to pull that bullshit on me?"

Corrick stepped into the outer ballroom balcony, adjusting one of his cuffs. Honestly, he was never sure how these nobles could get away with the fabrics they thought were fashion. They were so uncomfortable. Was uncomfortability a sign of nobility? Corrick scoffed.

"Greetings, sir!" A servant bowed to him, his shirt glimmering in the evening sky. What a subtle show of wealth by the donors. "Could I offer you some nourishments for this delightful evening?"

Corrick offered the customary master bow, a simple nod and a bowing of the shoulders. "What are you offering?"

The servant looked confused for a moment. Corrick winced internally. It was an oversight to not research customary servant discussion practices. While he knew these servants were Synilas folk, he did not have the foresight to figure out what family they came from. The servant showed his silver platter of various drinks and small meats.

Perhaps there was still a way to turn this into Corrick's favor.

"Could you tell me your favorite drink?" Corrick asked, offering a small wink.

The servant stumbled from the offer to speak freely from Corrick. "Well, sir, I would have to say the half-heart tonic. It is light but mighty. It is a nice compliment to the evening air."

Corrick looked him up and down. "What's your name?"

The servant bowed slightly. "Markus, sir, for your any need."

"Well, Markus, can I let you in on a little secret? Just between us."

"O-of course, sir."

"It's been awhile since I've been in the whole... nobility circuit, you know. Do you know the talk of the place so far?" Corrick waved his hand casually. "For discussing... important matters, without the niceties."

"I... I am not sure, sir. There's so many new nobles aboard this ship."

"Hmm." He should have known it wouldn't have been that easy. Still. "I understand, Markus. Well, between us, I would love for us to keep an eye out for each other in case our information for each other might... evolve."

Gossip is definitely something the servants throughout all ages enjoyed. Markus nodded. He turned to leave, but Corrick cleared his throat. "Markus?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I would enjoy a drink. Do you still suggest the tonic?"

Markus thought for a moment. "Sir, I believe the soulset would be a wonderful fit." As he gave the small glass to Corrick, he leaned in and whispered. "The half-heart tonic has very little liquor in it."

"A shame, truly." Corrick downed the drink in one gulp. It was a sweet and sour drink, with an aftertaste of the sweet flowers of fall. It was one of the best drinks he had in quite awhile. He understood why the servants wouldn't promote this drink. He handed Markus back the empty glass. "Thank you, Markus. Until we meet again."

"May you enjoy your evening, sir."

Corrick fumbled with his cuff as he wandered around the outskirts of the ballroom. The setting sun shone rays of purples and reds across the sails that towered above the ballroom and extended on the sides of the ship as well. The mysterious fabric changed colors as it wavered in the sky.

Corrick could feel differing auras of magic tugging at his senses. None of them were all too discerning. Of course Synilas wouldn't want the powerful nobles in the country. He was sure they would board at the border or in the return trip.

His Sense noticed before his ears did.

The same type of sensation that passed his room earlier prodded his senses in the same direction as some rowdy yelling. Corrick decided to investigate.

"--trying to pull that bullshit on me?" A beautifully dressed woman pulled away from a portly man with clothes too small for his stomach.

"I've seen my fair share of servants trying to get into official business. Who did you steal that dress from?"

"How dare--"

"There you are." Corrick strode over to clasp the lady's shoulder, swiveling to put him between the two.

"Get off--"

"What do you--"

"Oh, I must sincerely apologize for myself being late. You must try those half-hearted tonics." Corrick turned to the man. "Although, judging from the looks of you, I think you already know that."

The portly man looked affronted. "Do you know who I am?"

"No."

Corrick turned them both away. The lady shrugged his hand off, but followed his lead. "I had it covered. I didn't need help from a man like you."

Corrick shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps you didn't. But it's obvious you are just as out of touch with court niceties as I am." He knew a fellow spy when he saw one. He smiled softly and gestured to the grand dancefloor. "Care for a dance?"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before smirking slightly. The man was handsome and, well, he already knew she was a little off-balance. It wasn't her fault that she'd been out of court circles for, hells, far too damn long. It was good to meet someone else would was floundering as badly as she was.

"Why," Ace said. She could work with that, "I thought you'd never ask!"

She let him lead her out onto the dancefloor, taking his hand when he offered it. He tugged her in close and began the steps for a Asturaian Waltz. Ace watched his face carefully, studying him. He had pretty eyes, she noted, tilting her head slightly.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," she said, carefully. Very pretty eyes. Some kind of blue, maybe.... Perhaps grey. It was hard to tell with the lighting in the ballroom. "Aracelis var Ardys, at your service." She would've curtseyed if they weren't currently in the middle of the dancefloor. "And you are?"

Corrick twirled Aracelis, stepping away and twisting his torso to the side. "The name is Corrick. Corrick Malair."

He turned back to look her in the eyes. "A Var Ardys? It's surprising you would be so out of touch with politics." Her violet eyes stared back, unflinching.

She shrugged, smiling slightly and trying to think fast. That her knew that little fact about var Ardyses meant he was in the know. Would he realise she was actually an Adonis? That she was only a var Ardys by distant blood? Both families were technically cousins to the Imperial family, but still. She had to wonder...

"What can I say?" she hedged, smile turning a little shy now. "I've been busy."

Corrick's gaze was unflinching. Ace just gazed back, waiting for his response as they twirled again, gracefully spinning around and around on the dancefloor. She had to wonder at Corrick's abruptness. He'd intervened on her behalf with the nobleman, but Ace had a feeling it wasn't for chivalrous reasons. Was he onto her? No, surely not...

"You?" she asked, tilting her head back towards the still-spluttering noble they'd both offended. "It's obvious you're out of touch as well."

He smiled softly. Her prodding didn't phase him too much. It was obvious she didn't know about the Malair family --which put him at a huge advantage. How he pushed that advantage was the big question.

"Ah, I've had the luxury of being from a small noble family, so I can take some time off the current going-ons every so often; a luxury I'm sure the Var Ardyses don't have."

Together, they spun around the dancefloor as the music steadily rose, reaching its climax before the conclusion.

"Like I said," Ace told him with a shrug, smile still firmly in place as they span into the last few steps of the dance. "I was busy."

She glanced away, biting her lip. Quick, a lie, but believable...maybe... Also, Malair was a familiar name. Ace tried to think of where she'd heard of it before. It wasn't Asturian. Synilasian, maybe? Oh...oh, dear. If he was from Synalias... No. No, Ace, don't go there.

"The Emperor is...as usual, an enigma," she said, laughing akwardly. "Who knows what he wants unicorn horns for, am I right?"

A weak lie, and he knew that she knew that they both knew it was a lie. Still, he smiled and nodded at the lie, chuckling lightly. "I can say that I am far enough removing from the noble lines to have the ability of chuckling at their... quirks."

This conversation could lead into dangerous territory quickly, for either of them. So, he lead it in a bit of a new direction. "Speaking of the Emperor, I hope I am as disappointed as you are that he was unable to make this maiden voyage." He flashed his pearly whites. "I was hoping this was the first event I would be able to attend with someone as important as he."

Ace sighed. "Oh, definitely! I haven't seen my cousin in ages."

She grimaced and dropped into the last step before dropping into another curtsey, as per the customs of the dance. When she straightened up, Ace ran her fingers back through her hair, mussing it slightly.

"I never see him anymore," she complained. "All my interactions with him are through servants or letters." Ace sent Corrick an unreadable look. That was the truth, and she had a feeling that he'd know that. When was the last time she'd actually spoken to the Emperor? Years, most likely. "Most frustrating, if you know what I mean."