Regardless of Keshel’s possible impending doom, Reiav had her own impending doom to be about. Doom is like that, it’s very good at sneaking up on you when you least expect it. You have a bit of an advantage, seeing as you get to observe this story from the outside.
To you, the doom must be inevitable, because otherwise this story wouldn’t be worth telling. But I say that it wasn’t inevitable, not at the time at least.
At the loading docks, a particular young woman that you met a few chapter back stood with Akia, slightly apart from her father and the metalfolk chief of city repairs. The head of the merchants was supposed to be there too, but she’d completely left two weeks back without intent to return after a particularly heated argument with Reiav’s father.
They were nomads by nature though, so it was to be expected that they would lose various people, even ones who had been almost permanent residents; it was just as expected to receive new ones who intended only to stay for a short time. Some would stay longer than intended, and some would leave before their stay, but each would one day move on.
Really it was more unusual that the city had remained in the hands of Reiav’s family since her great great great grandfather had first flown up there and claimed the abandoned sunchasing city three hundred years ago. It would have made more sense if one of those heirs had been called away forever to some place or another by love or opportunity. Even a thirst for adventure could have caused something like that, which was certainly more common in the niortak.
Either way, with or without an active head of merchants, everyone important on the city of Teisel watched a small fleet of aircraft come in for a landing. Reiav herself did not feel ready to see Ruirel again, but she reasoned that if she waited any longer the they would only grow farther apart, and then when they did see each other again it would just be all the more awkward.
So she somehow survived as the five aircraft came in for a landing, as the spectral wings that stuck out the sides like insects disappeared, and as the metalfolk moved forward and helped unload the cargo. Finally a familiar young man peered out of the largest makeshift flying machine and met her eyes.
Somehow, those eyes still had that same wild gleam that Reiav remembered. Somehow, he barely looked different to her despite being an adult now with his bloodline finally activated, making his spectral wings strong enough to carry a ship.
Somehow he could recognise her too, though similar changes were present in herself.
Older.
Stronger.
Ruirel gracefully descended from the doorway, striding toward the group with six important looking niortak behind him. There were more that exited the vehicles and started chatting amongst themselves, stretching, and in one case arguing with one of the robotic dockworkers.
“So! How’s the city of Teisel been while I was gone!” Ruirel shook Reiav’s father’s hand, saluted the chief of city repairs, glanced at Akia, and grinned stupidly at Reiav.
“We’ve been getting along. Mostly hoping someone can crack that code already!” Her father complained, though his complaint was clearly and effectively targeted at Ruirel. Zenshier was a very practical man, but he was also very blunt compared to other nobles. They would have kicked him out of their clubs by this point if they had any on Arendi. “Imagine the trade opportunities if we could steer the blasted thing!”
“Teizel haz been darker.” The chief of the metalfolk said, his malfunctioning voicebox making all the S sounds too sharp, “Without the Alanerea to guide her, thingz do not work az they zhould. Zzze iz falling.”
Reiav’s father—but I’ve said his name by this point so now you have to remember Zenshier—nodded seriously, “I’ll be surprised if Teisel is still here in three years, most of the operations keep burning themselves out and that old AI makes things difficult for us at every opportunity.”
Reiav’s mind sobered, right, that problem. “I heard that Ulenik city fell last month.” Which was significantly worse news for them. Teisel had been the same model, and now it was showing the same signs that Ulenik had, the wear and tear of seven hundred years and the increasingly erratic actions of the AI—well, she might not even have a city to inherit if this kept going on.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Ruirel nodded slowly at that, also sobered, “That’s why I’m here. To find us some suiki so they can help us figure out how to pilot a city properly! With luck they have a way to fix them too, but if we could interface with the city then I believe we could solve most of these problems.”
Zenshier at the very least seemed interested, “Oh? How so?”
Ruirel grinned as the group sat down in a conference room, taking out an old blueprint for Teisel. Reiav glanced at it, but she knew most of it better than she knew her own face. The excited young man pointed to a spot though, the control center in the highest tower. “By following the spots that connect to this point, we discovered quite a lot on Neschav city. I suspect the same will be here. Everything wires to that spot. If we can interface with the machine then we could reshape the city itself! It would make repairs significantly easier, not to mention the AI would likely listen to a command through it.”
Reiav tilted her head but remained silent as the group discussed Ruirel’s plan. She frowned slightly as it came to life in front of her. It was a good plan, the kind that she expected someone like the Conqueror to come up with. Ruirel was the Conqueror's grandson, it stood to reason that a brilliant—if terrifying—mind was contagious.
“So, in the end… every piece of wiring comes back to this device.” Ruirel pointed toward a drawing of the interface machine back on Neschav. It looked like a metal plate with two grooves in it shaped like odd feathers, or perhaps antennae.
Zenshier looked at that drawing for a long, long moment, “I see, that’s why you’re searching for the suiki then? You really think you can find them?”
Ruirel packed the drawings back together into a stack, a nervous habit, “I’ve been looking into reports for two years, they have to be on Iana somewhere.” He smiled, “We’ll find some suiki. All we’ve really discovered is that we can’t interface with the machine without them.”
--
Dinner wasn’t supposed to be awkward, in fact, Reiav had long ago decided that it wouldn’t be. She’d been planning this since the storm zone had passed behind them last month. Every food she’d decided on with Akia, and every moment was planned with the accuracy of one of the metalfolk chefs.
Reiav watched the meal come out, sitting across from Ruirel and awkwardly spitting out one of the polite and practiced lines she’d concocted in her room last week. She was eternally thankful to her past self for realizing how stressed she would be in the moment.
But regardless, it wasn’t supposed to be awkward.
She’d planned it to not be. That was just who Reiav was.
Somehow she managed to make it awkward anyway—really who could guess how—Reiav always thought that that must be one of her specialities. She was always deciding one ending she wanted and then she herself managed to become the one piece of the puzzle that didn’t quite click into place.
“So, how do you like your potatoes?” Reiav asked suddenly, choking on her words but it was too late for the poor sap to keep her words from coming out, “Mashed, hashed, or baked?” She found herself staring dumbfounded at her hands. That wasn’t one of her prepared lines, what was she thinking? Noooo stop it! She was going to ruin the entire evening!
She opened her mouth to save herself but Ruirel chuckled.
“That’s more like how I remember you.” He smiled, “I like them raw.”
Reiav gaped at him, blinking rapidly, “W-what! That’s completely unfair, please tell me you’re joking! Aren’t potatoes… poisonous if consumed raw?”
Ruirel was simply laughing. Laughing and laughing and laughing. “Don’t worry,” he laughed again, “I like them baked. I was just trying to lighten the mood, you know? You’ve been struggling to put two words together this whole time… am I really that intimidating?”
Reiav looked down, “I want to expect that you’re like how you were.”
He looked a bit sad, “Perhaps we should start over then?” He cleared his throat and stood up, bowing majestically, “I am Ruirel Denast, born and reared in the Neschav storm city, would the fair lady before me consent to the idea of such an unworthy man courting her?”
She stared at him for several heartbeats, trying to adapt to this… roleplay. Yes he’d done this type of thing a lot before. She turned her nose up with a small smile. “Perhaps,” she motioned for him to sit back down, “But only if the unworthy man does not object to one idea.”
The corner of his beak twitched upward, “And what idea is that?”
“This fair lady would like to study the crafting of engines, as long as this is not a dealbreaker, I believe this arrangement is in my favor.”
“And this unworthy niorta would agree to that idea. So long as the fair lady lets him see her ideas.”
Reiav smiled, pulling a page from her bag, she wasn’t sure what had possessed her exactly to bring it, but she was glad now that she had, “Of course.”

