The ship's engines roared to life with a low, steady hum as it rose from the snowy courtyard. Wings spread wide, six in total, catching the wind as streams of vapor hissed from glowing vents beneath the hull. The vessel tilted north, carrying its passengers toward the Morgain Peaks—an endless stretch of jagged mountains cloaked in white.
Trafalgar leaned against the railing, his breath fogging in the freezing air. The city shrank beneath them, until only the snowfields and forests remained.
'Mordrek…' His thoughts stirred, unbidden. 'Even if it was an order from Valttair, he saved me. That day—I'll never forget it. The wyvern ride, the ambush that nearly ended me, and the second one that almost did. If not for Mordrek, I wouldn't be here.'
