The winds howled like wild beasts as Ashwing crested the last wave, revealing a sight that stole Kael's breath.
High above the cliffs, massive stone islands floated in the sky, tethered only by thick chains of glimmering light. Each island bore tall spires, glistening banners, and vast windmills that turned lazily in the furious air. These were the Skyholds of Aerlyn fortresses of legend, home to the Storm Riders.
Kael clutched the prow of the ship as gales battered them from every side.
"How in the name of all that's holy are we supposed to get up there?" he shouted over the roaring wind.
Thalen, steady at the rudder, simply smiled. "You don't. They come for you."
As if on cue, a horn blast echoed across the skies. From the largest Skyhold descended half a dozen riders mounted on sleek, winged beasts part hawk, part dragon, their feathers shining like polished steel.
Their leader wore a helm shaped like a bird's beak, his silver cloak snapping in the storm.
"Visitors are rare these days," the rider called down. His voice, amplified by some unseen magic, cracked like thunder. "State your name and purpose, or be dashed against the rocks!"
Kael glanced at Lysara. She gave him a tight nod. This was his test.
Stepping to the bow, Kael shouted, "I am Kael of Black Hollow! Bearer of the Crown Shards! I seek audience with the Council of Aerlyn to unite the realms against Malagar!"
The lead rider hovered in the air, considering him.
Then, without warning, he dove straight for the ship.
Kael braced, his hand instinctively reaching for the shards around his neck.
The rider pulled up at the last moment, his mount's wings throwing up a blast of wind that nearly capsized Ashwing.
"Prove it!" the rider barked.
With a snarl, Kael drew his sword. Fire and frost erupted along the blade, forming a shining arc of power that cut through the mist.
The riders murmured among themselves. The lead one gave a sharp gesture. "Follow, if you dare."
With a whip of wings, the riders turned and soared upward.
"Well, they didn't kill us outright," Merek said, hauling at the sail. "That's promising."
Guided by magic and desperate hope, Ashwing was lifted by unseen currents toward a landing platform jutting from the lowest Skyhold. Ropes were thrown down; Kael and the others scrambled to secure the boat before it could be dashed apart by the winds.
The moment Kael set foot on the platform, a squad of armored stormguards closed in, spears gleaming.
One rider dismounted, removing his helm to reveal a sharp-featured man with streaks of silver in his hair.
"I am Commander Darius Veyne," he said. "You claim the shards. You seek the Council. But know this Aerlyn owes allegiance to no landbound king. If you want our help, Kael of Black Hollow..."
His eyes hardened.
"You'll have to earn it."
Behind him, doors of polished stormwood creaked open, revealing the inner court of Aerlyn and the trials that awaited.