Vale instinctively threw an arm over his face as a violent torrent of wind tore through the tower, the sudden pressure forcing him half a step back while dust, loose grit, and scattered debris skidded across the stone floor. Hanging banners snapped violently against their poles, and the air itself seemed to ripple under the force of the arrival. Korin, by contrast, didn't so much as flinch, he remained planted with an almost boyish grin, looking upward as if greeting the chaos rather than resisting it.
Around them, the Royal Guard reacted far less calmly. Several members scrambled to secure crates and reinforced baskets, others braced themselves against pillars or shouted over the roar of the wind. One voice cut through the commotion, sharp and irritated. "Korin, you ass! How many times do we have to tell you to keep that damn eagle outside?!" Korin winced, barely, and raised a hand in a lazy, apologetic wave, his laughter carrying easily through the gusts. "Yeah, yeah, sorry! Last time, I promise!"
Vale lowered his arm cautiously, blinking through the lingering turbulence as he looked up, and froze. At first, it was only motion, a massive silhouette cutting across the light in sweeping passes that blocked and revealed the sky in uneven intervals. Then it stabilized, and the shape resolved into something far larger than memory had prepared him for.
Tachyon had changed.
Thick, layered brown feathers rippled across a body that had grown different from anything Vale remembered, each wing no longer purely avian but reinforced with claw-like extensions that gave it a predatory, almost draconic outline. Its beak looked hardened, almost carapace-like, and the sheer scale of it hit only in stages as his mind caught up, five meters at minimum, possibly more. Vale's eyes widened despite himself. "…You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.
The great eagle's gaze lowered, locking onto him with sudden focus. After a brief pause, it descended with controlled weight, its wings adjusting in precise increments as its talons scraped lightly against the stone during landing. Vale instinctively stepped back, but Korin immediately tightened his grip on his shoulder. "Relax," he said calmly. "He looks worse than he is. he still is the same bird."
Vale glanced at him, about to respond, but stopped mid-thought as Tachyon leaned forward. A deep, rumbling breath escaped the creature, and before he could react, a long, unexpectedly agile tongue slid from its beak and licked across Vale's face in one swift motion. He froze completely.
Tachyon pulled back, eyes brightening with an unmistakable recognition, then let out a low, satisfied sound before gently nudging its beak against Vale's chest, one eye half-lidding as though settling into familiarity. "…Okay," Vale said slowly, blinking as he processed what had just happened. "That answers that."
Korin laughed openly now, clearly entertained. "Told you. He remembers you."
Vale wiped his face with the back of his hand, still staring at the creature in lingering disbelief. "He liked me?" he asked, half incredulous. Korin gave him a brief, knowing look before turning to retrieve a thick rope from nearby supplies. "Yeah," he replied casually. "You were one of the few people who didn't annoy him back then. Tachyon tends to like those."
He stepped closer to the massive eagle, beginning to secure the rope around its leg with practiced ease. "Tried keeping him on my shoulder when he was smaller," Korin added, tightening the knot with a practiced pull, "but that stopped being an option pretty quickly."
Vale let out a low whistle, watching the process as the scale of the creature became even more apparent up close. "He trusts you a lot."
"Of course he does," Korin replied without hesitation, swinging himself back onto the transport platform. "I raised him. I'm basically his dad."
Tachyon tilted its massive head slightly at Korin's remark, one golden eye tracking him with quiet attentiveness, though it offered no resistance as the final adjustments were secured. The rope settled into place against its scaled leg, and for a brief moment, the creature remained still, coiled, waiting.
Then Korin gave a sharp, commanding whistle.
The response was instantaneous. Tachyon recoiled just enough to gather itself, then released a piercing screech that tore across the tower and echoed outward into the open sky. Its wings snapped open in a single, powerful motion, the force alone generating another violent surge of wind that crashed outward in all directions. In the next instant, it launched, no gradual lift, no hesitation, just raw power as its body surged upward.
Vale barely had time to react.
The platform jerked violently as it was pulled from the ground, the sudden acceleration throwing off his balance. He lunged instinctively, grabbing the edge with both hands as his knuckles whitened under the strain. Wind tore at him from all sides, dragging at his clothes, whipping his hair across his face as the structure swayed beneath him with unsettling instability.
Behind him, Korin laughed.
It was not reassuring in the slightest.
The ascent didn't last long before the tower fell away beneath them. The violent turbulence eased slightly as Tachyon stabilized its flight, the platform leveling just enough for Vale to risk opening his eyes. When he did, the tension in his grip loosened as he stared at the vast view.
Irea stretched out beneath them.
From this height, the kingdom revealed its full scale in a way that was impossible to grasp from the ground. Vast stone walls encircled the city in an unbroken ring, towering high enough to repel even the largest beasts. Beyond them, an endless forest spread outward in every direction, dark and dense, its canopy resembling a vast, living green ocean stretching to the horizon.
Within the walls, the contrast was immediate.
Near the center, grand structures dominated, towers rising with deliberate symmetry, fortified halls, and carefully maintained buildings that spoke of order and control. But as the city expanded outward, that order fractured. The architecture grew uneven and worn. Smaller homes clustered tightly together, many visibly damaged, some partially collapsed, entire districts marked by neglect.
Vale's gaze moved slowly across the landscape, taking it in piece by piece, the scale and disparity settling into something heavier than simple observation.
"…That's something else," he said quietly.
"Like the view?" Korin called from across the platform, his voice carrying easily over the wind, his posture relaxed as if standing on solid ground rather than suspended in open air.
Vale let out a faint chuckle, nodding as he steadied himself. "Yeah. Not exactly something you see every day."
Korin smirked. "Get yourself a mount, and you could."
Vale rolled his eyes, shifting his grip slightly as he adjusted to the movement. "I already have mounts," he muttered. "They're just… not here."
That caught Korin's attention. His expression shifted, curiosity replacing some of the casual ease as his gaze lifted briefly toward Tachyon above them.
"Your ravens…" he said slowly, thinking it through. "If they made it here, they've probably grown too. Might even be close to this size."
He paused, then added, with a faint edge of seriousness, "…Ember, though? That one's different. If he's here, he's not just big, he's seriously dangerous."
Vale chuckled under his breath, the comment not entirely unexpected. "Wouldn't surprise me."
The comparison lingered as he glanced up again at Tachyon, the sheer scale of the creature reinforcing the thought. If this was what growth looked like here, then Ember…
They continued in flight for several minutes, the motion smoothing as Tachyon settled into a steady rhythm. The wind remained strong but consistent now, no longer chaotic, and the platform's swaying became predictable enough to manage.
Gradually, the city below began to change.
The structured, central districts gave way to something far less maintained. Buildings leaned at uneven angles, rooftops patched together with mismatched materials, streets narrowing into cramped, cluttered pathways. From above, the deterioration was stark, impossible to ignore.
The slums.
Movement below contrasted sharply with the decay. Children ran through the narrow streets in worn, torn clothing, their energy undiminished despite the conditions. Figures moved between structures with purpose, survival etched into the rhythm of the district itself.
Vale's expression tightened slightly as he took it in, the earlier sense of awe giving way to something more grounded, more reflective.
Tachyon slowed overhead, its massive wings beating in controlled intervals as it hovered above the district. The platform dipped and swayed gently beneath them, suspended in place.
"So," Vale said, glancing toward Korin as he steadied himself again, "what's the plan?"
Korin turned to him with a grin, completely unfazed by the height, the drop, or the unstable footing. He held onto the platform with one arm and one leg as if it were the most natural stance imaginable.
"Well," he said, tone casual, almost too casual,
"We jump."