Once they stepped out of the room, Adam marched down the corridors of the floating city with unwavering purpose.
"Uhh…" Fidelis stammered, jogging to keep up. "Sir, where are we going?"
"To uncover this place's history!" Adam answered, heading straight for the ship's reception desk.
He pushed through the door and placed himself in front of the young woman working there. She was crouched down, organizing folders with her back to the entrance.
"Miss!" he called, loud enough to get her attention, though not rudely.
The girl jumped, bumping her head lightly against the cabinet. She stood, rubbing the spot, and turned to face him.
"Yes, young man—sorry, how can I hel—?" she began, but he cut her off.
"Yes, yes, I want to know if there's a library on board," Adam asked, leaving no room for her to finish.
In his haste, he completely missed the large board on the nearby wall clearly showing all room locations. Even so, the receptionist politely explained where to find the library and gently pointed out the board Adam had ignored.
He stopped before it, his eyes racing across every line and illustration with fierce hunger. The map displayed the different levels of the flying machine: workshops, common areas, observation towers, and several icons marked as "Points of Interest." It felt as if each detail tugged at him, an invisible thread guiding him toward a secret the city quietly held.
Meanwhile, Fidelis had lingered behind, awkward.He approached the receptionist with a cautious step.
"Sorry…" he said softly. "My companion… didn't mean to be so abrupt."
She nodded with a faint smile, accepting the apology without complaint, and returned to her folders. Fidelis sighed in relief, thanked her, and hurried after Adam.
But Adam was glued to the map, barely blinking.After a long moment, tracing hallways and rooms with his eyes, he pulled a book from his coat—the book—and without warning sprinted toward the library. He didn't look back. A lightning bolt driven by curiosity.
"Adam! Wait!" Fidelis yelled, heart pounding as he chased after him. "Don't lose me!"
Keeping up with Adam—and that talent of his—was exhausting. After endless hallways and stairs, Fidelis finally reached a common area where people stretched their legs or chatted in small groups. Asking around, he followed Adam's trail past curious glances and murmurs.
Another frantic rush later, he arrived.The library wasn't small, but it wasn't massive either: shelves built into the walls, and six neat rows at the center forming a perfect rectangle. Every shelf full of books in all sizes and colors.
Adam stood there, utterly absorbed, scanning covers as if every title whispered clues. Fidelis leaned against the doorframe, breathless.
"Sir…" Fidelis panted. "Please… I told you not to run off."He gasped again. "Remember—your Arcana is different. I can't compare with you."
Catching his breath, he moved to help.
"Milord… what exactly are we looking for?" he asked while checking the books Adam had taken.
"The history of this place. Mythology, religion, traditions…" Adam said, tucking another book under his arm.
"About the flying city?" Fidelis asked, incredulous.
"No, no, no," Adam replied with a slight smile. "About these lands."He lifted another book, eyes burning with excited expectation—as if each volume might complete a puzzle only he could see.
"And what good will that do for us?" Fidelis muttered, doubtful. Adam's odd whims weren't new.
"The word was Ignis—the one that appeared on the card," Adam replied with almost foolish confidence. "I know Ignis is related to fire. Maybe a disaster, maybe an event… or maybe the name of a general, who knows?" His stare glowed like he was praying to be right.
"…Fine," Fidelis sighed, head dropping in resignation.
Adam let out a deep breath and began speaking as his eyes roamed the shelves.
"You know…" he said, voice tinged with arrogance. "Before all this—when I lived with my father—he had his own library. Not just any library. Every book there was loaded with secrets. Magic woven into the text. Ancient spells written out."
Fidelis eyed him with curiosity and skepticism.
"…And what does that have to do with what we're doing now?" he asked, helping sort the books Adam had tossed aside.
"Everything," Adam answered, that spark in his voice always preceding some impossible theory. "I want to do what I used to do at home—see patterns, connect dots, find meaning."
Time passed.Hours.
Adam bounced from shelf to shelf, arranging pages, scribbling names, dates, symbols on improvised parchment. The map grew more tangled, more confusing. Fidelis leaned over it, reading the notes—hoping to believe, wanting to trust Adam's reasoning—but it didn't take long to realize the web had no structure.
"Adam… this doesn't make sense," he finally said. "None of these things connect. This 'Ignis' here has no relation to the city or these historical events—and this symbol here is alchemical, not catastrophic."
"But look!" Adam shook the parchment. "If you connect this to that… and this other symbol…"His finger drew chaotic lines, like he believed some secret logic only he could see."It has to mean something."
In moments like this, Fidelis felt like the older one. Adam, despite his age, acted spoiled—careless about how his whims affected others.
Fidelis sighed and leaned back against the shelves.
"Sir… even if I want to help, this makes no sense."
Adam lowered his gaze—frustrated, but not defeated.That silly smile lingered, the smile of someone who knows the world doesn't make sense, but keeps searching anyway.
"Maybe you're right…" he murmured. "But I can't help trying."
After a long silence, Adam scanned the messy map he'd built through the hours.
"Well…" he said, standing up. "We've only gone through half the library."His tone was somewhere between hopeful and mocking.
Fidelis stared, trying to figure out if he was serious or just messing with him.Seconds stretched uncomfortably.
"…Milord," he finally said, stunned—holding back a laugh. "If this Ignis is real—or important—I doubt we'll find it in a random ship's library."
"And what about this?" Adam shot back, lifting a book Fidelis had set aside. "Look carefully."He flipped it open and shoved it toward him without even looking inside.
"No way!" Fidelis exclaimed, stepping forward with exaggerated excitement.
"See? I told yo—"
"It's a children's story," Fidelis cut him off, chuckling. He'd recognized it from the first words alone. "I put it aside myself when I started helping you, sir."
Adam snapped the book shut, stiff.
"If you're not actually going to help, then don't get in my way."
Fidelis froze.His smile faded slowly, as if the words dug deeper than he expected.He lowered his head. "…Alright. Sorry."He stepped aside and left the room.
Adam watched him go from the corner of his eye, stomach tightening. He knew he'd gone too far. Knew he'd been unfair.Guilt bit at him, but he drowned it out by going back to his notes.The pages still lay spread out, crowded with symbols, names, connections.It was easier to cling to the chaos than face what he'd done.
He adjusted his coat and kept writing.
Silence grew thick between them, broken only by turning pages and scratching ink.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the ship, a small group moved quietly.They walked like people who knew the corridors well, steps softened by the constant hum of machinery.
Four figures in hoods stopped in a rarely used maintenance room. The air smelled of hot metal and oil. They unpacked small glass vials filled with various materials and black chalk.
The tallest knelt first.With precise, swift movements, he drew a circle on the metal floor; the lines glowed a deep red, sparking as they reacted with the ship's charged surface. He continued arranging the materials.The others followed, forming several rings linked by runes indecipherable to anyone unfamiliar with combustion-based alchemy and fire magic—with touches of summoning circles.
"Hurry…" rasped a voice beneath a hood. "Before anyone notices the flow shifting."
The air changed.At first, only a faint warmth—then it grew.Dry. Suffocating.
The runes glowed like stoked embers; the red powder ignited into a harsh, burning light.The hum of the ship mixed with a strange crackle, like wood burning—even though there was nothing to burn.
Light flashed between the lines—again, and again.Shapes formed: small burning bodies, compact flames with limbs and glowing eyes.
Fulgoris Incendia, whispered one of the casters, as the last of the materials burned away at the naming.
Each elemental shared the same essence—unstable fire, coiled around a fragile form with a will of its own. Their steps were clumsy, driven by primal rage that urged them to consume.
The circles kept spitting more out.A score of fiery creatures filled the room.
"Now… let them do the rest," murmured the tall one, voice thick with dangerous satisfaction.
And just like that—they slipped back into the corridors, disappearing, while the Fulgoris Incendia began their march.