Creaking ropes and the lapping of water set the rhythm for Ozzy’s thoughts. The sharp clack of the boat slapping the side of the swamp wagon announcing change, change that would surely shake the foundations of his very existence.

  Ozzy had never gone far in the army. Throughout his life he had been a follower, always happy to go and do what he’d been told so long as the objective had made sense. Leaving for Alaska had been a step in the right direction, but here he realized he was falling back into old habits. Listening without thinking, following blindly. It was an easy trap to fall into when the people who surround you were superhumans and gods. Then Myla had come along and made him question that habit, that golden quality his leaders had always cherished.

  Lucy glared at Ozzy, tension piling up in the group as it became quickly apparent that he was the one she blamed for their current predicament.

  “All of you get aboard. I need to have a chat with our new friend.” She said, her teeth grating as she called him friend.

  “You-” She began with a growl.

  “I don't care Lucy.” Ozzy said, looking her dead in the eyes, standing like a man for the first time since entering Myreluck, standing for himself.

  Opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water Lucy’s eyes grew from the kind of upset you might be able to talk your way out of to the irredeemable inhuman rage of a drill sergeant who’d just been back talked.

  “YOU-” She began again, and Ozzy could tell by the way she began to squint that her vision had gone blurry with blind rage and fury.

  “I respect you Lucy, I do.” He interrupted her again. “You’ve have made your stance on me abundantly clear though, and I’m not going to sit here like a child and let you go off on me because you feel like it and think this all my fault. You’ve made it clear you aren’t interested in me sticking around, so I won’t follow you, or listen to whatever poison you’re interested in throwing at me.” Ozzy spoke standing tall, mentally adding I’m not in the army anymore, and I’m not your soldier.

  Lucy snarled, getting right into Ozzy’s personal space. “You’re on my wagon! Rat!” She blurted out at him, spittle flying at him like the poisonous intent of her words made manifest.

  “The only reason you have this wagon to begin with is me.” Ozzy threw his arms wide. “If the watchers didn’t care about making a good impression with me and the family they thought I was going to be a part of then you’d still be up in your district.” Ozzy said, trying to work the frustration out of his voice but largely failing as his own anger began to rise.

  “You say you’re not a child, but I could backhand you off of this train and the only thing that would hit the water would be ash.” Lucy’s voice got dangerously low, her eyes hardening as her posture went rigid.

  “Then you can answer to my gods, as they pour out all of the debt I owe them directly onto you.” Ozzy threatened, not backing down as she raised her hand to strike.

  Ozzy felt his tongue begin to dry out, his heart rate quickening as he watched the leader of the firelight district stare him down. All she had to do was let go, he could feel the power, just barely contained behind her small frame, roaring and rearing to go with all of the intensity of a caged sun. She planted her foot, twisting her the ball of her foot into the wooden balcony beneath them.

  “Flyers incoming!!!” The shout came off the top deck, it was Tino’s voice again, this time notably more frantic than when Ozzy’d heard him on their arrival to the swamp train not five minutes ago.

  Lowering her hand Lucy gave Ozzy a final glare before turning about on her heel and heading for the stairs.

  Ozzy went to follow her, only to make it less than a few feet into the trains interior before the pale faces of Emil and Myla blocked his path to the stairs.

  “What’s going on man?” “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” They both asked simultaneously, before turning to look at each other in annoyance and interrupting each other again.

  “Why did you do that?” Emil spoke with more concern than Ozzy had ever heard come from the man.

  Sighing, Ozzy turned to look out into the swamp. “I can’t stay in this district man.” Ozzy said.

  “I get that, but why are you trying to pick a fight with a tier 2?” Emil asked him, desperate to know there was more than just stupid bravado behind Ozzy’s decision.

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  “I want to choose who I follow, I’ve just done whatever the hell people’ve told me to do my entire life man.” Ozzy said simply. “I’m stopping it today. I’m not taking shit from anyone I don’t want to take it from.”

  “That attitude’s gonna get you killed.” Myla huffed, frowning at him.

  Ozzy pried the gleaming firelight district ring from off of his finger. Holding the shiny piece of metal up in the light he turned it over, watching as it caught and reflected the sparse rays of light filtering through the trees.

  “Not if I get stronger.” Ozzy tossed the ring out into the swamp.

  ***

  Top deck bustled with all of the movement and agitation of a besieged castle wall. The comparison wasn’t far off either. All of the defenses were up and practically vibrating with power. All trained two hundred feet behind the swamp train where a sail-less catamaran did some very unship-like things, namely floating three hundred feet above the water in the still air.

  When Ozzy saw it he had to double and then triple take. Magic, while incredibly powerful had certain limitations, limitations that seemed to just get thrown out whenever higher tier core users came around. As it hovered Ozzy could make out crew members bustling about and dropping a long white cloth over the side in the universal peace talk

  “Why are you following my train?” Lucy shouted from the enhancement emplacement closest to the flying craft, her voice filled with the same fury and indignation as when she’d spoken to Ozzy.

  “We saw you were being followed, thought you might want a hand?” A friendly male voice called out to them.

  “And why should we think you’re here to actually do that?” Lucy called back out.

  In response a woman stepped up and into view. She was tall, dangerous looking, with enough blond hair to consider it a mane. Ozzy’s eyebrows shot up as he saw her, not quite believing his own senses.

  “Hey Lucy!” Trinidad waved as she said hello.

  Initially Ozzy had felt little more than a dull twinge of curiosity seeing the craft, he was too bothered and upset to really care about the flying vessel if it was just going to sit and do nothing. Trinidad popping up was an actual surprise, filling him with more excitement than he thought was strictly appropriate, especially given the circumstances.

  Lucy spat over the side. “Anyone can steal a face Trini. You can’t expect me to accept that as your only means of proof.” She said.

  “You know I hate it when you call me that!” Trinidad shouted back.

  “That is not all.” The male voice spoke up again talking much louder as to speak over Trinidad. “You have a member aboard who can vouch for us. Tell your newest member Remulas sent us.”

  Silence reigned over the train as slowly everyone turned to look back at Ozzy in confused silence.

  “Does that mean anything to you Ozzy?” Lucy shouted across the train at him.

  “They’re friends!” Ozzy said loud enough for all to hear, and Lucy ran an exasperated hand down her face.

  Glancing angrily back at the ship she shouted, you may approach!”

  There was no response save for the slow humming approach of the flying ship. It floated ever so slowly towards them, lowering as it came to hover just about thirty feet above the top deck.

  Three individuals dropped from the catamaran, each landing with heavy deck rocking thuds. Trinidad and another woman landed on one side of the deck next to Lucy, the other falling lightly and landing right in front of Ozzy.

  On the other side of the deck Lucy instantly began tearing into the two newcomers for information and reasons as to why they were there. Most of the attention on the top deck went that way, save for a small circle who now watched the new man and Ozzy with interest.

  “A pleasure Ozzy.” The man said with a nod, not introducing himself. He was tall, standing just over a head taller than Ozzy. White fuzzy unkempt hair framing his aging features and drooping nose. A pair of thick bronze framed spectacles making his eyes look massive, nearly hiding the crows feet that crinkled as the old man laid eyes on Ozzy.

  A little unsure of what to say Ozzy nodded, “Thank you, the pleasure’s all mine.”

  Ozzy waited for the old man to continue the conversation, potentially even introducing himself. When he didn’t Ozzy and the air grew even more awkward as their spectators began to whisper, he was forced to speak up.

  “Can I do something for you?” Ozzy asked, looking around at all of the different faces watching them.

  “What?” The man asked, seemingly getting pulled out of some daydream. “Oh right yes. A pleasure to meet you Ozzy.” He said, extending an arm out to for Ozzy to shake like it was their first time having this conversation. “I’m Arlen.” He said, his grip as flakey as his attention span.

  “Nice to meet you Arlen, you’re with Remulas?” Ozzy asked dubiously, but he caught a hint of sharpness as the gods name left his mouth. It was gone just as fast, but it left Ozzy with the distinct impression Arlen was playing the fool.

  It was working too, already most of the people on the top deck had lost interest in the old man. They instead focused on Lucy, Trinidad, and the new woman. Both newcomers were currently getting a tongue lashing from Lucy who was probably still taking out all of the anger she’d gotten from her conversation with Ozzy on them.

  “I am,” Arlan confirmed. “You wouldn’t mind speaking somewhere more private would you Ozzy?” He asked quietly, his voice growing sharper as he examined the faces around them.

  “I don’t mind at all, where did you-”

  Without warning Arlan grabbed him by the back of the shirt and leapt upwards. They ascended the thirty feet necessary to reach the catamaran and went an extra ten, clearing the front of the ship comfortably before touching down lightly just past the apex of the jump.

  Letting go of Ozzy, Arlan wiped his hands and turned to face him. Ozzy was met with a very different man. Despite not changing at all in appearance Arlan looked sharper, his poster was straighter, his eyes more focused. The crows feet around his eyes proving to not have come from laughter, but a suspicious squint. He looked like the kind of man who faced the world with the constant question of what danger it might throw at him next.

  “Introductions out of the way, I’m happy to be the first to welcome you. The circle has seen many years without a new member, Ozzy Irman.”