The Sky Isles of Lioaratheia

The streak of wind had vanished—faded into the misty light like a ghost trail—but it had already done its part. It had shown them the way.

 Now, Ardyn, Kael, and Sedge soared high above the forest, riding the upper current in near silence. Below them, just partially visible through gaps in the canopy, flew Rellan, Brask, and Cairen—Orriven's second line. Farther ahead, slicing clean through the air and level with their altitude, were the Rinaka siblings. The Hovergem was clutched tightly at Toren's side.

 "We stay up here," Kael said, his voice low, careful not to carry through the open air. "Until we pass them. And when we're close enough to the Rinakas—we strike together. Get that gem off Toren."

 Sedge and Ardyn nodded in unison, saying nothing.

 They continued soaring through the upper winds, silent but watchful, keeping their distance as they tracked the three Orriven members below. Rellan, Brask, and Cairen wove steadily through the trees beneath, unaware that Windmere trailed silently overhead.

 Then Kael pointed—a sharp gesture forward, eyes locked on a break in the forest ahead. Through the mist and rising trunks, the Rinaka siblings had just slipped beneath a thick canopy of interwoven trees, their forms vanishing into a tunnel of dark green.

 "We dash full speed," Kael said under his breath, "once the three below enter the canopy."

 Sedge gave a subtle nod.

 Ardyn tightened his grip.

 Seconds later, the moment came. The lower three of Orriven reached the same stretch of forest and dove in.

 Windmere's trio streaked forward in formation—Kael slicing ahead, Sedge matching his speed, and Ardyn just behind, focused and flying clean.

 Inside the thick canopy, Orriven flew fast but careful, weaving between thick trunks and jutting branches as the trees closed in around them like a shifting maze. Leaves whipped past their faces, and the narrow flight lines forced tight angles and sharp reflexes.

 "You think they're still behind us?" Brask called out, his voice low but gruff as he ducked beneath a twisted branch.

 "Probably," Rellan replied without glancing back, his form darting around a moss-covered outcrop. "We're putting enough distance. They won't catch us."

 A pause. Then a voice from the rear—calm, measured.

 "I think you're wrong," Cairen said.

 Rellan and Brask glanced back midflight, their formations tightening slightly as they angled through a gap in the trees.

 Cairen didn't slow. He pointed upward, toward a break in the canopy where the sunlight poured through like shafts of gold. In that patch of light, something flickered—shadows, faint but moving.

 "The air above," Cairen continued, gaze still fixed upward. "They've used it to fly faster. Took the upper currents and bypassed the maze."

 He adjusted course with a quick shift, voice calm but edged. "They're smarter than we thought."

 Rellan's mouth flattened into a line. Brask exhaled through his nose.

 Rellan pointed ahead, eyes narrowing. Through the shifting gaps in the canopy, the Rinaka siblings had already broken free of the forest, their forms streaking clean into the open sky.

 "Once we exit," Rellan said, voice low but firm, "we'll attack the three above. Three against three. That'll give Mirae and Toren more distance—we'll win this for sure."

 Brask and Cairen nodded in silent agreement, their focus sharpening as the treeline began to thin. The light ahead grew brighter, the wind pulling stronger. Just a few seconds more.

 Then—together—they burst from the canopy, Galegear flaring as they shot upward in a clean, aggressive arc, shifting hard to intercept the Windmere trio above.

 Ardyn's eyes widened. "They spotted us!"

 But just as the two teams were about to collide, the air shifted.

 A violent gust exploded from the path ahead—an invisible wall of force that howled across the clearing.

 The Orriven trio hadn't seen it coming.

 Their flight lines shattered. Rellan was yanked sideways, spinning out of control. Brask tumbled head over heels, slammed into a downcurrent. Cairen tried to adjust but was thrown backward in a spiral, vanishing behind a cloud of sheared leaves.

 Above them, the Windmere team grit their teeth as the gale hit.

 Kael's boots flared bright with stabilizer bursts, arms braced against the push. Sedge leaned low, wind screaming against his back, his flight path buckling under the pressure.

 Ardyn felt the gust punch into his chest like a hammer. The world tilted. The sky blurred. He fell fast, spiraling.

 Branches whipped past—green, brown, a flash of white—until a thick trunk loomed beneath him.

 He kicked hard, boots slamming against the tree.

 A burst of wind. Momentum snapped. His body pivoted clean.

 He surged forward—low but steady—cutting through the undercanopy like a bolt.

 As Ardyn flew low, weaving through the underbrush and broken light, something shifted in his awareness.

 The wind.

 It wasn't random anymore.

 He could see it—just barely. Trails of motion in the air, like faint distortions rippling ahead. Tiny shifts in the leaves, a flicker of light bending the wrong way. The gusts had rhythm—timing. Direction.

 Ardyn narrowed his eyes, adjusting.

 He dipped low, letting a blast howl above his head. Then rose sharply, twisting sideways as another crosswind tore through a wall of vines. He moved like a runner dodging arrows—ducking, angling, cutting through invisible fire.

 A glance upward far behind.

 Kael and Sedge still hovered, caught in the worst of it—boots flaring, bodies straining just to stay aloft. Ardyn's instinct told him they'd manage—but right now, they weren't moving.

 Then movement—just ahead.

 He spotted Toren tumbling through the air, the Hovergem flaring blue in his hand as a brutal gust slammed him from the front. Toren twisted mid-fall and managed to toss the gem toward Mirae—clean, controlled—but the cost was his balance.

 Another wind blast struck.

 Toren's body tilted sharply, his momentum flung sideways toward the far edge of the isle.

 Ardyn's breath caught.

 He pushed forward—faster. Reading the wind, shifting through it. One burst narrowly missed him. Another clipped his side. But he didn't slow.

 Toren was seconds from falling.

 Ardyn surged in, snatching Toren's wrist with both hands just before he slipped off the edge. The force nearly pulled them both down.

 With a shout, Ardyn swung Toren's body back toward solid ground, using his own weight to anchor the motion. The two of them crashed into the grass, tumbling hard. Dirt, wind, and breath knocked loose.

 But instinct took over.

 They rolled, and in one seamless motion, both dropped into crouches—steady, alive.

 Ardyn looked over.

 Smoke coiled off Toren's boots—both Galegear thrusters flickering, overworked and overheated.

 Toren looked at him, panting.

 Then, with a small, crooked smile, he gave a single nod of thanks.

 "Go!" Toren shouted over the roaring wind, his body still hunched low as he fought to hold his footing. Gusts slammed around them, threatening to lift them off the ground again. "I think this is going to be between you and Mirae."

 Ardyn met his eyes, gave a single nod—then launched forward.

 The wind clawed at him, but he moved with it, not against it—riding the air in bursts, twisting around currents that would've knocked another flyer from the sky. His boots pulsed with quick, controlled bursts, his form slicing between the trees and up into the thinning canopy.

 Ahead, through the scatter of mist and shafts of gold light, he saw her.

 Still pushing forward—fluid, sharp, fast.

 Mirae.

 She hasn't looked back, Ardyn thought. She must not have seen Toren tumble toward the edge.

 She was moving like he was—angled just right before each gust hit, her form adjusting a breath before the air turned. She wasn't lucky. She was reading it.

 That conversation came rushing back—The Four Breathers.

 Are we two Breathers?

 He didn't know. But right now, they were the only ones still flying.

 The winds began to fade. Slowly, the storm-like currents eased, thinning into softer pulses that flowed more than fought. The air settled just enough to bring clarity.

 And with it—Mirae.

 She was close now.

 Close enough that he could see the slight glance she threw over her shoulder.

 She knew he was coming.

 Ardyn narrowed the distance, wind brushing his cheeks as Mirae's figure grew closer—and something felt off.

 She was slowing.

 Not from fatigue. Not from strain. But almost… intentionally.

 His boots hissed with a soft burst of air as he pulled up beside her, matching her speed. Mirae glanced sideways, her eyes sweeping the open air.

 Then she spoke, voice low but steady.

 "Believe me now?" she said as she stopped. Ardyn came to a halt beside her.

 He turned his head, scanning the air around them. No hum of tracking drones. Just open sky and thinning wind.

 "I think the wind scattered them," Mirae said. "That last burst… it wiped them out."

 Mirae tossed the Hovergem toward him in one clean, casual arc.

 Ardyn caught it instinctively. His brow furrowed as he looked at her, confusion flickering across his face.

 But she was already turning away, walking toward a thick patch of tangled shrubs at the edge of the clearing.

 "Why?" Ardyn asked, his voice low. "And where are you going?"

 "I was swept by the gust of wind too," she replied without turning back, brushing aside a curtain of leaves.

 "Wait—" Ardyn said, taking a step forward.

 She paused, half-turned, arms crossing as she glanced over her shoulder. Her voice carried its usual bite.

 "Stop asking before I change my mind. And before some of my teammates catch up again… Splash Boy."

 He stayed still, Hovergem in hand, heart beating fast.

 Then, something in her eyes shifted—just for a moment. That glint of teasing faded, replaced by something quiet, something serious. Her gaze held his, steady and certain.

 "Trust me."

 It wasn't a plea. It was a promise.

 Ardyn didn't need an exact answer.

 He turned, kicked off the ground, and dashed back into the wind.

* * *

Ardyn flew harder, faster, the wind streaking past his ears like rushing water. If he was tracking time right, he had been dashing for nearly twenty minutes. The sun was already high above him now—noon light beating down, casting sharp shadows across the forested terrain below.

 His heart pounded—not just from exhaustion, but from everything tangled in his thoughts.

 What was Mirae thinking? he wondered. She's a fighter.

 He glanced back quickly, eyes scanning the sky.

 Is this a trap?

 But the memory of her expression—steady, unflinching—settled the doubt.

 No, he thought. Her face said everything.

 Then, ahead, a flicker. A small object arcing toward him from the distant sky.

 A drone.

 Its sleek body angled slightly before adjusting to his speed, now gliding just beside him.

 This one came from across, Ardyn realized. Then I'm close.

 Another drone appeared—then another. Some passed him by, racing ahead. And now, far off in the distance, the open stretch of the finishing field came into view. On the wide plateau of stone and grass, he could make out the faint dots of waiting figures.

 Facilitators.

 Three drones circled him now, forming a loose triangle as they flew. Ardyn knew exactly what this meant.

 The Sky Arena was watching.

 They must be wondering, he thought, why I'm the last one still flying.

 He dared another glance behind.

 Far back, faint against the light—six figures.

 His stomach tightened. He counted again. Two blue uniforms. Four green.

 Kael and Sedge. The others—Orriven.

 He gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body screaming, and pushed forward with everything he had.

 The six were closing the distance. Slowly. Steadily.

 Another glance—closer now. He could make them out clearly.

 Mirae was leading. Just behind her were Rellan, Brask, and Cairen.

 They were gaining.

 But so was the finish.

 He tucked the Hovergem securely and surged low, letting the wind cradle his momentum.

 Then—

 The final marker. The finish line, etched into the earth with glowing edge-lights and a cluster of broadcasting drones.

 Ardyn crossed it.

 His boots struck the ground hard, skidding slightly before he dropped to one knee, gasping for breath. The Hovergem still tight against his side.

 A cheer erupted.

 Facilitators clapped. Captain Seris was already stepping forward, followed by Roe and the rest of Windmere's support team. Hands clapped his shoulders, arms wrapped around him, cheers and disbelief mixing in the air like wildfire.

 "Ardyn, you did it!" Roe said.

 "Preliminaries—Windmere's in!"

 He looked up, faintly smiling as the crowd closed in, drones hovering all around them now.

 He should have felt proud.

 But inside… the feeling was different.

 Windmere had finally won. After so many years—they'd made it through prelims again.

 But Ardyn knew the truth.

 They didn't win.