As the recall spell activated, a brilliant, neon-blue circle began to trace itself into the wooden deck around me.
I felt my weight disappear bit by bit, the gravity lifting from my body as the hem of my mantle began to float upward. Wind started to ravish the deck, whipping up a sudden, violent gale.
"Sir!?" Rael shielded his face with an arm against the blinding light and rushing air.
I looked down at him through the vortex.
"Rael. I'll be going on ahead."
A hint of sadness touched his face, the realization hitting him.
"Will we see you again?"
"Very soon, hopefully. My path crosses the shuriman desert after all."
The magical pull of the recall grew denser, a heavy, magnetic pressure locking onto my chest.
It was time.
"Bye, Rael. Give your daughter a deep kiss for me."
Rael let out a booming laugh through the wind.
"BWHAHA! But of course!"
Man.
These people are so dumb. Shouldn't he feel weirded out by a comment like that?
They're no fun.
ZAP!
.
..
…
…..
..
…
..
.
Suddenly, I was falling through the empty air directly above Piltover.
Below me, the city layout flashed through the roaring wind–a massive grid of white stone and gleaming copper. The copper details caught the sun everywhere, running along the rooflines and lining the edges of the bridges and sea-gates.
BWOOSH!
Mid-fall, I willed the change. My body snapped and reshaped in an instant: a smaller frame, arms extending into feathered wings, and a protruding beak.
I transformed into a toucan. Properly this time.
Flap!
With a strong beat of my wings, I caught a thermal updraft and stabilized into a smooth glide.
'Don't want to attract attention right now,' I thought.'
My hearing adjusted.
The entire city was in motion. Giant copper gears cliced on the sides of towers, mechanical railings slid along the pathways, and down on the wide marble avenues, crowds of people moved like tiny ants through the streets.
A faint smell of oil and smoke drifted through the air.
'Piltover…Steampunk esthetic. It looks exactly as in the show.'
I tilted my wings and descended, weaving between the copper pipes until the noise swallowed me whole.
The main plaza was packed. Banners of blue and gold stretched between the towers, snapping in the wind.
Long tables lined the square's edges, loaded with a variety of foods. Merchants in fine coats moved between clusters of well-dressed citizens, all of them talking, laughing, glasses raised.
The protagonist of the event was a massive tower made of gold, bronze, and white stone. At the very top a gigantic globe traced by a mechanical gear.
Next to it, on the ground, stood a raised platform. Officials in ceremonial dress surrounded a tall figure at the front. He had broad shoulders and confidence that read clearly even from up here. His voice carried across the entire square:
"For too long, the world has been divided by distance. By oceans. By the time it takes to cross them, and everything that can go wrong along the way."
Applause rippled through the crowd.
"Today, that changes."
An airship waited by the tower.
A row of blue circles surged, glowing and rotating in front of the globe. The runes on the archway began to flash. The energy channeled more, then—ZAP!—light exploded in a violent burst until the flash faded and only a heavy hum echoe remained.
The crowd erupted.
'Oh. So that's the Hexgate. And that's Jayce.'
I glanced at the tower, then recalled the glowing runes.
'...Those runes are similar to Ixtali ones."
A keen whistle cut through the cheering.
Two kids pierced out of the crowd below, weaving hard through the celebration. One hugged a package to his chest. The other was already ahead, cutting toward a side street.
Enforcers pushed through the crowd after them.
The kids were fast. They took the corner clean.
The Enforcers took it faster.
One of the Enforcers grabbed a boy by the collar and slammed him into the wall. The other got a boot to the stomach.
The package dropped. Rolled.
The beating continued.
'...'
'There's a theory about how architecture affects humor,'
'Those kids stole bread at a celebration of progress. The Enforcers beat them while the crowd cheered a gate that will make rich people even richer.'
'Perhaps the more ornamented one is, the more blind they become. Perhaps that's why society walks in circles.'
'Blinded by the consequences of its flawed system, even going as far as condemning victims for existing.'
I shook my head,
"This isn't the time for such thoughts."
My eyes tracked the movement near the front rows. At the edge of the VIP area, a familiar silhouette stood out.
An Enforcer. Female. A rigid, dutiful posture with a rifle at her back. Her eyes scanned the crowd with focus.
"Dictator Caitlyn in the flesh—I mean, not yet."
Following her line of sight, my gaze drifted to the front seats. Sitting with effortless posture were the high-ranking members of the Council.
Mel Medarda was impossible to miss, radiating a golden, commanding elegance.
Next to her sat Cassandra Kiramman–Caitlyn's mother–exuding a general noble vibe that demanded respect.
My eyes lingered on Mel longer.
Her magical flow.
It wasn't drifting freely like a typical magical aura; it was contained. Like a battery. Or a weapon. Bending light rays and sucking them into her… 'Wait. Where is all of it going? Is she like me? Sucking energy into who-knows-where like Gathering Storm does?'
"Well, for starters, she's definitely a Light mage. Which is somewhat rare."
My eyes sharpened, piercing the distance...and her clothes. Her nude silhouette was tempting but my focus on the marks at her back and shoulders.
"...I don't recognize those. But come on, that's clearly runic inscriptions."
Finally some runes that doesn't resembles Ixitali ones.
Mel turned, noticing my gaze.
'Holy shit. Empathic shit? Damn, LeBlanc must be having a hard time monitoring her.'
I flapped my wings, moving away.
After I found a different spot to land on, I confirmed her gaze was gone and kept watching the event.
'She's good material for study. I don't remember exactly, but her birth had some different shenanigans, right? Damn. Wish I had LeBlanc's intel.'
A shout cut off my line of thought:
"Happy Progress Day, Piltover!"
I tilted my wings.
"...It's Progress Day? How did I miss that?" My eyes squeezed shut. "I should turn into a human soon; maybe height is the problem."
The realization landed even harder as I dazed into nothing.
The roaring crowd, the clinking glasses, the gleaming Hexgate zapping another ship away, and tons of airships now hovering the azure sky.
I turned towards the main characters.
Seeing them in the flesh was different than watching it through a screen. The exact uniform, the way Mel carried herself, the distinct layout of everything.
'They look nothing like cosplayers. And more importantly... they all look… suspiciously similar to the show.'
I felt a chill run down my spine.
'I've a bad feeling about this…'
.