​​Sometimes what happens around us has consequences we cannot foresee. We can only do our best with what we have. Learn from our past and make the most of our present. Face the fear head on, not avoid it. Not try to drown it out.

But when my body and my brain both are on overload—I run.

"Veda." The lad repeats my name, squeezing my hand. "Running away is just a temporary solution to a permanent problem."

His voice, as warm as summer, turns the tornado in me into a mere gale. My sense of calm is anchored in him. I feel like I can take on everything. Everyone.

"We cannot afford to wait to find out whether the girl knows about electricity, or her potential origins." Baron Secundus does another loud slurp from his wineglass.

"What are you suggesting?" I hear the Duke's doubtful voice.

"We should prepare our own countermeasures."

"How public of countermeasures are we talking about? That would shatter any attempt at unity between Lighthaven and Fumedge. To wage war against the Emperor, we will need well-equipped soldiers from both cities."

"They need not be public. Send a wire telegraph to Fumedge. Find him."

Find who? They can't be talking ab...

"You better hope he didn't transmit enough knowledge to her to harness it. Get rid of him in any way you can, fast! He must be apprehended."

"Then done. I assure you I will do my personal best, Baron Secundus."

"Your attitude makes me question if your best is up to the task." Malice emanates from the man's every word.

"Oh, we will find him. Don't worry."

"Do whatever it takes, Lucius. Order exhaustive interrogations, freeze commerce for half the district. Turn the Fumedge upside down if you have to. Just arrest him!" The Baron's footsteps shoot towards the door.

Langdon pulls me behind a giant statue of himself, of all people, and we crouch with haste, staring at his father and Baron Secundus leaving the Sanctum. 

I stare down — I'd bitten on my hand so hard that I drew blood.

"They... They want to arrest Pa." My voice is so feeble I hate myself for it.

"Yes." A lone tear shines in the corner of the lad's eye. "So?" He nudges me. 

I jus' stand there, frozen like that statue in front of us, unsure what is it that the Duke's son is expecting of me.

Langdon places his hands on my shoulders. "I may have wits and class, Veda. But I'll never have what you do. Freedom and pure heart. Determination." His gaze is intent, unwavering, as it bores through me.

The pieces of the puzzle rearrange before my mind's eye and a sudden flash of clarity strikes me. "We can't let them take him."

"Damn right we cannot." He nods.

"How can we stop it? If I send Vogel to Pa, to tell him to hide, there might be no time." I pace the hallway, the chittering of my toothless mouth the only sound in the silence.

But what if I could get to him first?

"Race on the rooftops of the Lighthaven. Is there any better way to spend the night?" I wink at Langdon and I am already off, jumping out through the semi-open window.

His cry of protest is lost on me as I become one with the wind.

The poor lad can do nothing but follow, hopping from roof to roof. He is surprisingly swift as he catches up soon and runs right beside me, wheezing, massaging the bruises on his throat.

We drop by the Workshop for his winged armor and a pair of gas masks. The constables don't make a fuss. The Champions have access to it the whole day and whole night.

"So ye reckon we gonna need that thing?" I clasp my knees, and stop to catch my breath, as Langdon dons the armor with difficulty.

"Yes. This 'thing' cannot get us to Fumedge fast enough. It would run out of fuel. But I know something that can." He smiles with confidence. "My ornithopter. It's past three in the morning. If I pilot it through the night, we might just arrive on the outskirts of Fumedge at dawn. Couple of hours at best to the junkyard."

"Can two people fit in it?" I frown.

"Absolutely. There is a back seat. But to get to its hangar stationed next to the aero globes... My winged armor will come in handy."

The ornithopter is parked in a massive iron hangar, and when we fly through the doors, Langdon flapping his angel wings, me floating with my Exoboots, it's another world.

My boots meet the concrete floor, as my eyes adjust to the blinding silvery light of the moon. 'Tis airy within, dry and big enough for the aero globes and the ornithopter to move with ease. There's no stuffiness and no odor save the familiar tincture of a steam engine.

A dozen yawning constables in embroidered blue uniforms are pacin' before the vehicles. 

Langdon halts at their sight. "Oh no. There are tons of enforcers right there." 

"Yeah. Means we're right where we should be." I gotta get to Pa. Screw dem enforcers. Everything that stands in my way now is an obstacle I'm gonna jump over.

"Come on, lad." I tug on his hand. "There's a back door. I can break in. We'll be in and out before anyone notices."

"What if my father finds out?" He swallows.

"He might. But I'm going, anyway. Ye were the one who gave me the idea to follow my... What was it? My puuure heart." I place my palm on my chest and roll my eyes.

"Stop it." Langdon blushes.

"So. You with me or not?"

"I am. I was a naïve fool. But perhaps I can still do some good. Instead of peppering the streets of Fumedge with propaganda, my ornithopter should right a wrong. And my winged armor can be used to protect, not only to harm." He takes a deep breath.

My own mischievous glint is now reflected in his eye, too.

Several minutes pass as I study the mechanism and Langdon gets anxious.

"Are you going to get that door open any time soon?"

"Workin' on it, lad." I finally introduce the hairpin and the door clicks open.

The hangar looms before us, a grand cathedral of metal and gears. Its towering walls are adorned with intricate brass fixtures and clockwork ornaments, casting mesmerizing shadows in the dimly lit space. The air is thick with the scent of oil and the faint whirring of machinery fills our ears.

As we step inside I feel as if I've entered this fantastic world where me imagination collides with Victorian elegance.

The ornithopter, the pinnacle of steampunk engineering, rests proudly in the center, its wings spanning gracefully, ready to carry us into our daring escapade to Fumedge.

We tiptoe up the iron stairs towards the machine, and Langdon settles in a cockpit without making a sound. He passes one of the goggled helmets to me alongside a leather jacket, with a whisper: "To protect you from the air currents, Milady."

I flinch and start to take a step back but then I let it stay, deciding for a moment to accept both his jacket and his persistent presence in my life. 

As I'm wedging meself in the backseat behind 'im, my stupid brass Exoboots scratch the ornithopter floor.

"Hello? Someone in there?" One constable takes a step towards the vehicle and he sees me.

Shite.

"Hey! Stop where you are!" the man exclaims, waving at his comrades to join him in pursuit.

"Uh-oh. Ye might wanna hurry, lad." I yell as Langdon starts the engine.

"We'll be fine. Hold on!" The wings of the ornithopter flap and it raises higher and higher.

"Careful, men!" The constables fall on the ground and shout at each other, shielding their faces from the sudden, fierce gust of wind. 

We whoosh right above them and straight through an open hangar door, getting lost in the night. Whooping in excitement, I clap my hands as my hair flows freely around my face. Can't friggin get enough of this fresh air.

Langdon turns around. There is raw honesty and admiration in his chestnut eyes as he stares at my disheveled figure.

"This is feckin amazing, L!" I scream. "Let's go higher!"

"I suppose there is nothing wrong with taking a minor detour," he yells back with a smile.

Moonlight travels through the night with a graceful ease. It lightens the rising path above us with platinum rays amid the starlit heavens. To see the moon and the stars from this up close with the boy... 'Tis something else.

"Also... L.?" He smiles, and the blush on his cheeks blooms with intensity.

"Figured we onna first name basis now thatcha helpin' me save my Pa. Well, do ye prefer that or 'Milord Langdon Septimus?'"

"No, no. I like L," he hastens to reassure me.

"Gives it the air of mystery, of action, wouldntcha know?" I wink.

The sky view before us invites new thoughts into my brain. A woven tapestry of small pale huts, with their tiny blinking lights, nestles in the maroon patches of the wet earth. And here we are in the world without frontiers — just land, water and cloud.

"I love flying," I hear him say. "The higher up I am, the more distance I gain from my earthly woes."

I nod. Oh, how well I get the lad. 'Tis the same thought I had, hovering above Fumedge, on my very first flight. 

It feels so good to be up in the air, with Langdon. Jus' the two of us, floating in our bubble, away from everything. Shielding each other from everyone that may harm him or me. I lean against the secure haven of my backseat with a stretch. 'Tis so snug and warm here, in the leather jacket impregnated by his scent. 

The safe cocoon of L's tender voice delivered through the whistle of the wind carries me into the land of dreams.

⚙️🕰🗝️🎩⚙

After a long, cold night, the daybreak brings glimmers of warmth. The sunlight caresses my face and I can't suppress a yawn fer the life of me. I feel my eyes smile and the coziness in my core. Above the tangerine mountains in the distance, white clouds move in shoals. The sky is equal parts blue and a chorus of grays, streaked with silvers and golds.

But all that beauty and splendor fades at the thought dem Fumedge enforcers might be readying to arrest Pa.

"Has the Milady awoken?" Langdon turns around to look at me.

"She has, Milord. Why, how on earth 'ave ye guessed?" I accept his pretend posh lil' game.

"For one, she has stopped snoring," he teases, and it earns him a smack onna head.

"Ow. I guess I deserved that." The boy scratches his nape. "Good news. We are just above the junkyard."

And so we are. My old habits return fast, and I don the gas mask before he can tell me to. Clicking the button on my Exoboots, I untie the belt and hop out of the vehicle, elegantly landing by meself.

His ornithopter descends shortly after and Langdon leaves it behind a heap of trash.

"Less noticeable," he mumbles through the mask.

I award him with two thumbs up. "'Kay. Now, let's go find Pa. We have to get him away from our home as soon as we can." I crease my forehead in deep thought. "What if we fly? Ye can use yer armor and me my Exoboots? We'll be faster, and my hovel is not that far."

Langdon nods in agreement, and we're off. We're not flying too high, just two or three meters above the ground but this is speedier than walking.

"Boy, I can't wait to see my own room again."

"Your room?" A ghost of a smile lingers on his lips. His eyes say, "go on."

"Aye. See, tis not much. Jus' a tiny nook. I remember the day Pa and Ma brought me from the orphanage. I climbed up the ladder and there, under the roof, I had my straw bed laid out for me. A small wooden wardrobe, a desk, a chair, and a set of clean clothes. T'was my kingdom, where I could do as I pleased."

Tears well in Langdon's eyes.

I shrug. I don't get the lad. "Whatcha moping for, boy?"

"Were those your only belongings?" The sunlight gleams off his armor, making it look even more angelical.

"Ye know nothing. Dontcha understand? T'was the first time I had something I could've called me own. I remember I started crying and laughing at once. It must've been one of the happiest days of my life."

"I can imagine." He smiles.

I wonder if he really can. He didn't live through it like I did. Langdon is not exactly rough around the edges as I am. There are things you don't question too much, I guess, when your home is the size of the village and ye always 'ave food aplenty on yer table.

"Ooh, ooh, we had a tomcat too. We did. Cat, I called 'im. White as a snow he was." I am excited to tell L more.

"He must have loved you a lot." L's eyes are softer than I knew eyes could be.

"Oh, I was Cat's favorite. Ye can bet yer sweet arse I was. He insisted on sleeping with me in my straw bed, and we kept each other warm. The pain over losing Ma was smaller like that, ye see?"

"I'm so sorry, Veda," L flies closer to me but doesn't touch me. He simply stares on with that tender look.

There's something in that gaze of his I feel I'll never ever find in another lad. Our souls make a bridge and we see into each other. For a moment, that's all we need to connect. Him and me, just eyes, no words.

But this is too much and I have to gloss over it, so I babble.

"The breathing sickness got Cat in the end. But every evening before we drifted off, he'd lick my cheek, as if he'd be giving me a good-night kiss," I say. "And every morning, his smelly butt would be sitting on my face. Argh." I snort. "Ye ever had a pet?"

"I..." He gulps. "I have not. My father did not condone animals in our household. I fear he barely tolerated my presence." Langdon dips his hand through the armor and into his vest pocket. 

A photo of a dark haired woman with chestnut brown eyes flashes before us. 

"I suppose I just... reminded him too much of her. My mother. She passed away giving birth to me. At times I think I would trade my life for anyone else's."

"Even fer mine?" My eyebrow shoots up.

He snorts. "I would not use the word "even" if I were you."

"But what could you possibly want that I have?"

"Are you really asking me that in earnest, Mil... Veda?" He catches himself.

"Whatcha want, lad? Ye want a hovel? A lung sickness? One tooth less? Malnourishment?

"Veda, those... Those are just life circumstances you were thrown in. But you... You overcame them all. You set yourself free."

"Have I now?" A corner of my mouth goes up unwillingly.

This boy is full of bullshit.

"I..." He stutters but then he speaks fast, incredibly fast. "I admire your courage, your action."

"Action?" I shake my head. I'm not some heroine from dem radio dramas he mus' listen to. I'm a real person. And all the action I've been getting, I ain't exactly craved fer it.

"Yes, action. You act. You do things. Me... I think and talk too much. My brain, it never turns off. You live your life. You are not a prisoner of your own brain."

"Maybe not," I allow his logic. "But perhaps we are just both prisoners of these places, L."

The streets of Fumedge and the hallways of the Castle of Lighthaven are not the forgiving kind. 

"So yes, to answer your question. This is why I like to fly. Even if I always have to return to the castle, I at least temporarily run away from everything. My father, and his expectations. From the ornithopter, you can practically see the whole city. The wind's a bit loud, though." He clears his throat, but I can see he is swallowing hard. "Perhaps my dormitory was twice the size of your hut. Yet it was horribly empty, and lonely, Veda."

"Now I see it! This sob story is how ye get them lasses to line up to offer to warm that bed of yers?" I stick my tongue at him.

He rolls his eyes. "No. There were never any girls."

"Weren't there?" I wink at him.

"Is that your home?" The lad points at my hovel with his head, dodging the question.

And it is, and I squeal in delight, zooming towards our squat hut. We're here, and the feeble shutters are open, so Pa is here, too.

I push at the door with zeal, expecting to bathe my ears in murmurs from a rickety radio, my eyes greeted by family photographs and the well-loved worn furniture of years.

The rancid stench of unwashed body and sweat wafts up to me instead and assails my nostrils. Half-nauseated, I advance through the dark freezing room. A thick layer of dust nests onna old table, and dem flimsy termite-riddled chairs bear witness to negligence.

"Veda..." Langdon points at the rickety bed. A scary thin shape lies there. Its stained, layered and loose clothing cannot conceal the bones that jut out.

"Pa!" I clasp my hands over my mouth, and the startled figure turns around.

What happened to him?

His once soft skin is stretched over his skull, his hair so dull and sticky.

"Sweetpea?" Pa whimpers.

"Yes, Pa, it's me." I pull him into a hug, unable to stop myself from crying. "What ails ye?"

He hasn't been taking care of himself.

"Nothing. I am perfectly fine, I assure you. And this young man is..." His eyes flicker towards the lad.

"Langdon Septimus, Milord." The boy bows.

I almost burst laughing through all the tears. The situation would be comical if it weren't tragic.

Surprisingly, Pa bows back at 'im, his entire body trembling.

"Little Langdon, you say? Oh, how much you've grown. One could say I've known you since you were in your mother's womb. A fine woman, she was." He turns to me next.

"What were you thinking?" Pa hisses. "Coming back here?" He looks at Langdon again. "Of course, I don't blame you, Milord. It must have been Veda's idea."

"No, Milord Igglesden. It was mine. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at me," Langdon says.

"Sweetpea, I told you before you left: master their game until you can play it as well as they can. And here you are, fleeing Lighthaven. Dammit, my stubborn girl, throwing yourself at trouble wherever you can find some," Pa swears. "Not that I see you as a culprit, Milord Septimus. Did you design that? Your wing work is stunning. Marvelous." Pa grabs the metallic appendages of Langdon's armor.

"Thank you." The lad smiles.

"You are young, Veda." Pa wiggles his forefinger. "I know you are looking to write your own story, but I cannot protect you forever. Can you imagine what they will think, in Castle Lighthaven, when they realize you have fled?"

"I didn't flee!" I growl, ready to explain myself, but he addresses the lad once again.

"Now how would you like a cup of coffee, Milord?"

"Paaa!" I moan in protest. "Ye only use our alembic for my birthday! And dem grounds are damned hard to come by."

"Hush, child. The son of the Grand Duke is honoring us with his presence."

"No need to bother, Milord Igglesden," says the boy.

"Pa, listen. We have little time. After Langdon's battle with the Demolisher..."

"I heard it on the radio last night. Such a sad affair." Pa pats the lad on the shoulders.

"We overheard the Duke and the Baron talking about ele-ctricity!" I yell, exasperated.

"Ah." Pa plops back on the bed, patting the space beside him. I sit and stare in expectation.

"I suppose the cat is out of the bag. Twenty years ago... the five of us were so arrogant. So focused on how brilliant we were. The Grand Duke, the Baron, myself and your parents. We never... "He coughs out the last sentence, blood coming thick and strong, flowing through his fingers. "Never considered the consequences of our creations."

"You knew?" The shock of seeing how sick he is prevents me from being mad at him. "We heard the Duke say that he had the Voltas disposed of in an aero ship accident."

"All Voltas except one." Pa leans forward, his shoulders hunched. 

There's something in that movement, a powerful emotional pain behind it. And then I know.

It's true.

But I don't even care that it's true. That the Grand Duke robbed me of the life I never had.

Because — I don't have time to care.

That life never lived, of a girl Veda Volta who never existed, is jus' a possibility long gone in the past.

My Pa is here, and now. And he needs protection.

"Come with us, Pa. Langdon will fly ye to safety. Ye can hide in my room. Ye are gonna love it," I speak to him as if he were a lil' boy, and me, his Ma.

Perhaps at some point we all become parents of our parents.

"Oh?" Pa looks at me, then at the red puddle on his palm.

"Aye. You gotta see this iuge bath they have. Ye can soak in there for hours. There is the warmest bed with the softest sheets, and they even serve chocolate with avo-cados. And later when I win the finals and when it's safe... We will walk in the Solarium without a gas mask, and Imma show ye an actual tree to sit under."

"That sounds lovely, indeed."

The fists banging on the door interrupt his widening smile. Knocks there come thrice, strong and loud.

"Otto Igglesden! This is the head law enforcer of Fumedge speaking. I demand you open up this instant."