The city of Duirt stretched beneath them, a mosaic of towering spires, bustling marketplaces, and winding streets, all illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. From above, the labyrinth of rooftops and canals appeared serene, a stark contrast to the chaos that ruled its streets below. Luthan sat astride Raziel, clad in nothing more than simple linen garments, the wind rushing past him as the great celestial eagle glided effortlessly over the city. No armor. No weapons. No weight of duty pressing down on him—just the sky, the wind, and the silent bond between him and his oldest companion.
Raziel let out a deep, reverberating cry, one that echoed through the air and sent flocks of startled pigeons scattering from the rooftops below. Luthan grinned, leaning forward against the saddle as he ran a hand through Raziel’s thick plumage. “I-have missed you my friend.”
The eagle responded with a sudden tilt of his wings, banking hard and sending them into a breathtaking dive. The wind roared past Luthan’s ears as they descended in a spiraling motion, weaving between the towering structures of the central quarter. The thrill of it was intoxicating—the sheer speed, the trust placed in his mount, the way the city blurred past in a rush of color and sound. Then, at the last possible moment, Raziel pulled up, catching the updraft and sending them soaring just above the city’s rooftops, the tips of his wings grazing the uppermost tiles. Below, startled onlookers gasped and pointed, the sight of the divine beast and his rider cutting a majestic, impossible silhouette against the evening sky.
Luthan laughed—not the composed, measured laugh of a priest, but something freer, something unburdened. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the wind against his skin, the sheer exhilaration of movement without restraint.
And then, on impulse—he let go.
His hands released the saddle, and for a fleeting moment, he was weightless. With practiced ease, he pushed off the stirrups and launched himself into the air, his body twisting into a graceful arc above the city. The thrill of open sky rushed through him—no tether, no safety, just faith.
But faith, after all, had never failed him.
Raziel was already there, the eagle spun beneath him in a breathtaking maneuver, folded his wing sightly as Luthan dove through the sky, his arms spread but for a brief moment before landing back onto the saddle. Raziel let out a triumphant cry as they turned onward.
His wings cut through the air with effortless precision, the celestial eagle carrying them in a smooth ascent. The city’s great cathedrals and towers falling away. Before them, the docks of the Silver Rain Quarter came into view—a bustling maze of wooden piers, towering masts, and great ships swaying gently in the harbor.
Luthan exhaled sharply, grinning despite himself. "Shal we say hello?" Raziel answered in kind, tucking his wings and diving straight toward the masts.
The ocean air thickened, tinged with salt and the scent of fresh cargo, as they plunged toward the docklands. The towering galleons and frigates stood proudly in the harbor, their masts rising like wooden spires against the evening sky. Below, sailors and dockworkers bustled across the piers, their voices carrying over the lapping waves. Ahead a massive three-masted brigantine, its sails furled as it prepared for departure, its crew shouting orders from the deck. Luthan recognized the ship—a merchant vessel of House Kraken, its name painted in flowing script along the hull: The Tideborn’s Fortune.
He smirked.
Raziel folded his wings, plummeting between the masts in a breathtaking dive. The ship’s crew shouting in alarm, some stumbling back as the divine beast cut through the air like a falling star. Ropes and rigging whipping in the wind as Raziel skimmed the ship’s length, his wings mere inches from the top deck.
Luthan stood in the stirrups, balancing with ease as he let his fingers graze the highest mast, sending a ripple of astonishment through the sailors below. Gasps, shouts, even a few stunned cheers followed in their wake. Then—at the last moment—Raziel tilted his wings sharply, banking hard into an upward climb.
Luthan gritted his teeth, the force pressing against him as they rocketed back into the open sky, the docks falling away beneath them.
As they leveled out, he glanced back, catching sight of the sailors still gawking from The Tideborn’s Fortune. He could already imagine the expression on Denaldo's face she worked out who paid them a visit and it made him smile.
