Mia stood at the skyyard platform, adjusting the flight straps on Professor Hootsworth's saddle with care. Summer break had only just begun, but the air was already alive with the buzz of vacationers, messengers, and merchants all clamoring for fast air travel. Beast taxis were in high demand, and Mia was officially open for business.
She took a deep breath, checking her schedule scroll again. Her first ever ride request had come in that morning—a short city-to-suburb hop. The name listed was "Mr. Rowan," pick-up near the Golden Ivy Inn.
"Alright, team," Mia said, turning to her small crew. "Nut, you stay tucked in the flight bag unless I need you. Hootsworth, smooth flying, no lectures midair.""I reserve the right to quote poetry if turbulence occurs," Hootsworth replied, fluffing his massive wings. "And Nut snores loudly in bags.""I snore with style," Nut retorted.
Mounting the saddle, Mia tapped her ride badge and launched into the sky, soaring out over Windmere. The early morning sun painted the rooftops in warm gold, and the breeze smelled faintly of roasted chestnuts and berry pollen. The city always felt alive from above, its streets like veins, pulsing with life.
She spotted the Golden Ivy Inn from afar—a tall, ivy-covered structure on the city's east side, near the market district. As she circled lower, Mia immediately noticed something strange.
A man in a deep green cloak was pacing near the side entrance, glancing over his shoulder repeatedly. Two other men, bulkier and far less subtle, were closing in from across the street.
The green-cloaked man spotted her, his eyes lighting up. He waved frantically, mouthing TAXI! before dashing toward the alley behind the inn.
"Oh no," Mia muttered. "This isn't a normal passenger, is it?"
She swooped low and landed in the alley just as the man skidded to a halt beside her.
"You're Mia Greaves?" he asked in a low voice, breathless but oddly composed. "Sky license Class C? Rides to anywhere under two hours?"
"I—yes?" Mia answered, confused. "You're Rowan?"
He nodded quickly. "Get me out of here. Now."
"Any particular direction?"
"Anywhere but here."
Before she could question him further, shouts rang out from the street. "There he is! Don't let him fly!"
That was all Mia needed to hear.
"Hang on!" she shouted, as Rowan climbed into the saddle behind her. Hootsworth squawked and launched into the air with one powerful beat of his wings just as the thugs rounded the corner. One of them actually leapt and nearly grabbed the edge of Mia's boot—but missed by inches.
They soared over the rooftops, wind whistling in Mia's ears.
"What in the name of phoenix feathers is happening?!" she yelled over the rushing wind.
"I'll explain when we're clear!" Rowan shouted. "Do you have a decoy spell?!"
"No, but I have a squirrel who throws nuts like grenades!"
"I can work with that!"
Nut popped his head out of the flight bag, cheeks full and eyes narrowed like a tiny soldier. "Squirrel war mode activated!"
Below them, the thugs jumped into a powered glider—clearly stolen from the nearby market air-rental stall—and began pursuit.
"They're gaining!" Mia called out, banking left toward the cliffside trails.
"I've got something!" Rowan pulled a small vial from his coat and popped the cork. The air filled with the sharp scent of lemon, pepper, and burnt sugar.
"What does it do?!"
"I'm 87% sure it causes momentary vertigo when inhaled!"
"EIGHTY-SEVEN—"
He tossed it behind them. A second later, the glider behind them wobbled violently, one of the riders flailing and screaming as he nearly fell out.
"They're down!" Nut cheered.
"Nope, they stabilized!" Mia shouted, angling downward. "We're gonna have to shake them with terrain!"
She veered through the jagged canyons east of the city, zipping between stone arches and narrow wind tunnels. Hootsworth flew like a dream, wings slicing the air with graceful precision. Behind them, the glider struggled to keep pace through the tighter turns.
"Okay," Mia yelled. "You have sixty seconds to explain what I just flew into before I drop you in a pond."
Rowan held onto the saddle tightly, voice steady but low. "My name is Master Rowan Caelis. I'm the Alchemy Guildmaster for the Windmere District."
Mia blinked. "That's… a big title."
"Unfortunately, yes. Yesterday I finalized a new potion formula that restores mental clarity while preserving short-term memory detail. Ideal for scholars, tamers, and combat tacticians."
"Sounds amazing."
"It is. But I refused to sell the rights to a merchant named Braggard Lue, who runs 'WellSpring Enterprises.' He tried to offer gold for exclusive ownership. I declined. So now he's trying to steal it."
Mia groaned. "Why is it always rich guys named Braggard?"
"They showed up at my inn this morning. I'd hidden the formula, but I didn't want to risk them following me to the Guild. So I hired the first registered beast taxi with a route nearby."
"Which was me," she muttered. "Of course."
The glider was still on their tail, but slowing—clearly not made for maneuvering in canyon winds. Mia spotted a rocky ridge ahead, sloped with patches of soft grass. She made a snap decision.
"Brace yourself!"
She spiraled downward into a controlled dive, sweeping over the ridge—and then dropped into a small hidden clearing.
"Emergency landing!" Mia shouted, and Hootsworth touched down with only minor sliding. "Everybody off!"
They leapt off the saddle. Mia turned and cast a quick concealment charm—a basic one, but enough to mask them from simple tracking spells.
Above them, the glider circled once, then veered away—unable to spot where they'd gone.
The grove was quiet.
Rowan finally exhaled. "That was… unexpectedly thrilling."
"I need hazard pay," Mia muttered, sitting on a rock. "Or at least snacks."
Nut hopped out and offered her a squashed energy berry. "Battle snack?"
She accepted it with a groan.
"So," Rowan said, dusting himself off. "You're not just a taxi rider. You flew with precision. You improvised. You didn't freeze up once."
Mia blinked. "Thanks? I mean, I have been dealing with a class of feral third graders all year."
He smiled faintly. "You've got talent. You're entering the City-Level Competition, yes?"
She nodded.
"Good. The Guild will be watching. And I'll be sure to put in a word of recommendation. You didn't just save my life—you might've saved the integrity of a formula that could change tactical alchemy."
He reached into his coat and handed her a small, violet-colored vial. "A thank-you gift. It boosts reaction time for five minutes. Could be useful in battle—or schoolyard dodgeball."
Mia took it, stunned. "That's… wow. Thank you."
He nodded once. "Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll walk the last few miles. Fewer death spirals."
"You're welcome," Mia said, brushing herself off. "First taxi job and I already fought corporate alchemy crime. What a summer."
As he disappeared down the hidden trail, Hootsworth let out a dramatic sigh.
"I suppose next time we pick up a client, we check for bounty hunters first?"
Mia laughed. "Lesson learned."
Nut flexed. "I love summer."