Arden-class Aircraft Carrier FES Emery, The Seventh Fleet.

  The Great Sea.

  May 9th, 1427.

  Ruprecht opened his eyes and felt something warm weighing down on his body. He turned his head sideways, trying to reach for the bunk bed’s handle with one of his arms to pull himself up only to find himself unable to.

  Early morning drowsiness, he assumed. He looked down on his chest, finding Evatyr putting her head on his arm as she slept peacefully. “Goodness Miritta… don’t you know that there’s a second bed above this one, Evatyr?” He mumbles.

  Evatyr opened her eyes slowly, her arms tightening around Ruprecht’s chest as she wrapped both of them in a blanket. “There’s a cooling unit above that one and this one too… It’s too cold, I can’t sleep like that... Besides, sleeping with you is more cozy… We don’t have many chances to be together alone like this after all… too much work…” She said slowly, still half-asleep.

  She had probably spent a long time during the night on documenting the trip before falling asleep at the most opportune opportunity, Ruprecht assumed, though the mumbling about the mechanical cooling unit did make for a convincing excuse as even half-elves don’t like sleeping in magically cooled air, preferring the natural winds instead. “There’s a time and place for everything. We’re on an important mission, Eva.” He said, giving her some headpats before slightly pinching on her long ears to awoken her completely.

  “You bully.” She pouts.

  Several knocks rang out from the metallic door. “Sir Ruprecht. Madam Evatyr. Please get ready soon, your transport will arrive in an hour.” A sailor announced.

  “We’re up!” Ruprecht answered the sailor beyond the door, which had the intended effect on the man.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll excuse myself.” The sailor walked away, his footsteps audible thanks to his boot clanking on the cold, hard floor.

  “Let’s get ready, wouldn’t want to miss our flight.” Ruprecht pulled himself up from the bunk bed, careful not to hit the low ceiling.

  “I hate flying.” Evatyr pouts again, somewhat scared of having to board an ‘aircraft’ again.

  “We’ll have to get used to it.” Ruprecht said, attempting to reassure her. “We finish our job, I’ll request some time off from our Lord. For your sake.”

  Evatyr’s eyes glowed as a smile formed on her face. “Yay!”

  – –

  Ruprecht and Evatyr sat together in the ship’s ‘island’ looking at the sailors in their colorful uniforms running about as they prepared for another landing by one of the loud ‘planes’, as the Elysians called them. They looked to the distance, eyeing the new flying machine that looked different from the sleek ones they had seen on the massive vessel. Apparently most of the flying machines on board this vessel are combat aircrafts, reserved only for escorting and combat missions while the ship acts as a tender, refueling and arming them.

  What an interesting concept, Ruprecht thought to himself. Azuria did attempt the same, using large ships to act as wyvern tenders but the prototype ship was scrapped for wood, with Azuria having no need for such an expensive vessel. He wonders how much resources, but more so, what kind of threat these people faced in their homeworld in order to justify building such a massive vessel like this?

  The aircraft touched down on the ship, stopping at an unnatural speed having catched itself on the hanging cable to decelerate. These people kept surprising him with their advanced crafts and tools.

  “Good morning. Did you two have a good night's sleep?” Admiral Chester asked the pair, walking up behind them.

  “Yes, sir Admiral, we did.” Ruprecht answers. “It’s honestly far more comfortable than I expected. Travelling by ships always meant that we would’ve to endure rocking seas, but on this one, it’s very smooth and comfortable. I had almost forgotten that we’re not on land travelling on this vessel.”

  “I’m glad to hear your compliment, Sir Ruprecht. Our engineers did a fine job designing this vessel, even if we couldn’t afford the bigger design.”

  “Bigger design?” Ruprecht tilted his head.

  “Oh, it’s about the eighty thousand tons Arishanovsk-class aircraft carrier that our Navy proposed to our government but was rejected, due to the price and the lack of infrastructure to build such a large vessel. Because of this, we’ve only built several forty-two thousand tons Arden-class aircraft carriers such as this one.”

  Steel is heavy, Ruprecht knew that, but the number was too boggling for him to comprehend. Even the largest Azurian galleon could barely reach a thousand tons, requiring a large number of people and trees to work on it for over a year to build. ‘Several’, the Admiral standing before him said, implying that they have at least two or more of these ‘aircraft carriers’, a feat almost on par with the Holy Celestial Empire or the Florence Republic in terms of shipbuilding. “I… I understand, Admiral.”

  “Looks like your plane arrived, sir Ruprecht.” Admiral Chester looked outward, eyes locked in the small CA-12N propeller-driven transport approaching his ship.

  Ruprecht took a deep breath, taking in the salty morning air of the sea. “Let’s go.”

  – –

  The aircraft wasn’t as large nor impressive as the one he had ridden in before, but he deduces that this aircraft was never meant for war judging by the lack of speed nor loud, light-discharging engines seen on the other aircrafts.

  Stepping on the aircraft and taking a seat, he looked at the metal ship through the aircraft’s window one last time before a voice interrupted his thought, seemingly out of nowhere.

  “We’re ready to take off, everyone. Wear your seatbelts properly.” The pilot announced over the intercom.

  A guide on the aircraft assisted the two Azurian how to use the seatbelts while Anderson was already strapped.

  Having to sleep through most of the night while enduring the constant sound of jet engines activating their afterburners before taking off throughout the night, Anderson yawns repeatedly. “Man… this is why I prefer travelling on diplomatic missions on bullet trains. At least they got music playing in the background…” He mumbles to himself to Ruprecht’s amused reaction.

  “The guest room below deck was relatively quiet, did you not find rest deeper within the vessel to escape the noises?” He asked him.

  “None, Mister Ruprecht." Anderson answers. “They ran out of accommodations, so I had to sleep in the parked cargo helicopter we came here with. Thin sheet metal can’t block sound all that well.” He yawns again. “You might want to hang on to something, miss Evatyr.”

  “Hmm? Why is that? I umm… got over my fear of heights! This one won’t bother me.” Evatyr said, faking a joyful expression as she began to sweat nervously, barely able to hide her nervousness.”

  “It’s not about that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The aircraft moved slowly over to the front of the ship before coming to a stop, a peculiar clicking sound can be heard under the cabin. “Catapult’s locked. We’re taking off on 3, 2, 1.”

  The guiding sailor wearing a yellow jacket outside gave them a salute, crouching down and pointing his arm towards the bow of the ship. “On the way!” The pilot said over the intercom.

  The catapult launch sunk Azurians into their seats as the aircraft quickly accelerated off the deck, causing Evatyr to yelp in surprise, terrified of the sudden jump. “AH!”

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  “Oh! That was a strong take off!” Ruprecht comments, recovering from the quick acceleration.

  After the surprise from the catapult launch settled down, Anderson was the first to explain to calm down the pair, focusing on Evatyr instead since she is currently hanging on to Ruprecht’s arm as if her life depends on it. “They can’t take off with such a short runway, so they need to throw this thing so it can pick up speed.”

  “C-can’t this thing take off directly like your ‘helicopter’?!” Evatyr asked him.

  “Doing so would’ve consumed a lot of fuel, Miss Evatyr.” He pointed towards the aircraft’s wing outside the window. “By using the ship to help the aircraft take-off, we can save on fuel and thus extend the range of our aircrafts. Last thing we want is to land out on the sea.” He explained to little effect on her fear, opting for the direct method instead. “It’s fine, we’re on a normal flight now. You have nothing to fear.”

  “You can let go of my arm now, Eva. You’re squeezing it too tight!” Ruprecht said to her, trying to reach for her long ear to pinch again.

  Anderson chuckled at the pair. What an adorable couple they are, he thought, slightly jealous. Relationships for him were next to impossible to have as an ambassador. Too much work, too little time and the risk he takes on every diplomatic mission prevented him from engaging in such activities. He’d like to start a family himself though, as he does have a stable income and a Class Two apartment issued to him, more than enough for at least one close person in his life, since that second bedroom of his is pretty much just extra storage anyway.

  “Enjoy the flight, you two.” Anderson sunk back into his seat as he let out a tired sigh, slapping a cover on his eyes. “I’m grabbing some extra sleep…”

  Montague Air Base, Arden. United Federation of Elysia.

  Ruprecht and Evatyr looked at the city down below in awe, dozens if not hundreds, perhaps even thousands of multi-storey buildings stretched out as far as the eye can see. As the aircraft approached the airbase, the pair could make out distant silhouettes of people going about as they continued on with their lives despite having gone through a historically large storm, a testament to the sturdiness of the Elysian’s infrastructure and work ethics. There were also strange long wagons traveling on a pair of iron bars, transporting immense amounts of cargo and people at speeds unthinkable for horse wagons that he was accustomed to seeing.

  After a relatively rough landing of the ‘plane’ on the massively long runway, the two disembarked and were greeted by a row of vehicles that the Elysians called ‘cars’, similar in looks to the ‘trucks’ their troops used to move around Azuria but much fancier and somewhat smaller.

  The pair disembarked along with Anderson before being quickly flanked by security personnels. Ruprecht took notice of their outfits. Unlike the dirty-looking camouflage uniforms of the Marines that greeted him, these guards wore black entirely throughout their history, even to their armor and weapon. Only their eyes were visible through the goggles that they wore, with their faces entirely hidden behind a black balaclava and under their helmet. A big, bold ‘FSS’ trio of letters was imprinted on behind the back of their armors, giving Ruprecht the impression that these men belong to an organization distincted from that of the ‘Marines’ he had met, who seemed to be much more light-hearted in comparison to these cold, assassin-like individuals.

  In any case, the idea of having cold-blooded assassins acting as guards for him and Evatyr did find merit. If only Evatyr has the same feeling, he thought. He looked to her to gauge for reaction, finding only her lips quivering and hands shaking. His assistant was clearly quite spooked by these guards, her hand tightening around his as she tried to maintain a dignified image despite being quite scared.

  A woman in black shades and a sharp suit awaits them, standing next to the largest car in the middle. “Greetings, I’m Ellen Mary, one of President Irwin’s personal assistance.” The woman introduces herself, taking off the sunglasses. “The President has given me the duty of escorting you two safely to your meeting with him along with the Department of State.” She said as she slid out a smile, easing both Ruprecht and Evatyr and giving them a sense of friendliness despite being in a very alien environment for them.

  As the two went into the vehicle first, Anderson walked by her to give her an Azurian silver coin he acquired during his short stay. “I guess it’s your turn on the job, Ellen. Here’s the payment.”

  “Oh please.” Ellen smiled, flipping the coin with her hand before putting it in her back pocket. “I still owe you five Credits for that drink you bought for me that night at the pub.”

  Anderson stepped inside the vehicle, taking a seat. “Forget it, consider it and the coin as a gift from me.” He said.

  “Well then.” She ordered the guards with several hand gestures, who quickly embarked and maneuver on their LUV-1 utility vehicles and Milena wheeled APC, forming a motorcade around the main vehicle. “I’ll take it on your word then.”

  As the vehicle rolled along the main road to the city center, the exotic sight caught their eyes. Electrical lights and signs at junctions provided guidance as well as enforcing the strict traffic rules on the several other vehicles on the road. Most of the road traffic is not occupied by the ‘cars’ like the ones that they are riding on but much bigger ones with more wheels. ‘Trucks’, he assumed. Ruprecht recalls that the Marine’s who arrived at Anzuri City also traveled on similar vehicles, although they were in the same camouflage paint pattern as well as model in contrast to the many different sizes and looks that the ones going about in the capital city.

  Many establishments lined the streets: a store with a cart drawn on a sign outside, identifying itself as a grocery store. Beside them stood a clothing store, its garms displayed proudly on the glass front of the establishment. They then passed by a rail station, the same long wagons they had seen earlier from the aircraft came to a stop, opening its door as people poured in and out before quickly picking up speed and leaving for the next station, Ruprecht assumed that this is how most people get around the city judging by how busy the traffic is on the small main road that he is traveling on.

  What’s even stranger to the Azurians is the architectural aspect of the massive metropolis. Instead of the usual disconnect seen on the larger buildings in Anzuri, the buildings here are interconnected by bridges above the street, allowing people to move between buildings without ever touching the ground. Besides a few flower shops, the only place he noticed with large amounts of trees on the ground would be the parks where the vehicle passed by as it made its trip to the Presidential Complex. For the Azurians who are accustomed to seeing vast fields of wheat and lightly built up areas, this was a dizzying environment to take in.

  Ruprecht took a break from the overwhelming sight and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Miss Mary?”

  “Yes? How may I assist you?” She answered, snapping to attention from her ongoing conversation with Anderson about their work.

  “Is it normal in your country to have so many people in a city?” He asked.

  Ellen adjusted her glasses, ready for a small explanation. “Our country is an exceptionally urbanized country even by our world standard, up to 70% of the land in our country could be considered urbanized. There are 186 million people within all the three states of the United Federation, with the Arden Republic we’re currently in right now boasting the largest population of 96 million people while the two other states - the Rostislav Republic and the Talya Republic - make up the rest.” She gave Ruprecht additional information papers in her briefcase containing additional information, pointing to him the annual public report of the country’s affairs and developmental statuses.

  The mind boggling number shocked Ruprecht, Anzuri only has a million people, which is probably equivalent to a smaller district in Arden. After Ruprecht finished looking through the documents, he looked over to Evatyr. She was diligently writing down reports, rotating between writing and making rough sketches of the bustling metropolis before her with a pencil she borrowed from Ellen.

  He tapped her shoulder, attracting her attention as he gave her the document. “You might need this.”

  “Thank you.” Evatyr clipped the documents, making a mental note to read and analyze in her free time.

  Ruprecht returned to admiring the metropolis outside as the car continued to move forward within the motorcade. Duke Kalush was right to warn him to approach these people with caution, even though his diplomatic approach with the few other countries within the Eastern Continent was often harsh. Establish diplomatic relations, look for treaties that would benefit Azuria, and most important of all - seek a defense treaty. All thanks to the Yarian barbarians who just overran whatever’s left of the Elvish Kingdom recently.

  Azuria doesn’t have any allies, at least any reliable one. The Principality of Lior is a good case, refusing to properly aid Azuria in their collective defense effort against the barbarians, opting to cash in under the kingdom’s meager military strength to relieve themselves of any military duties further in order to have more laborers to work in the mines to enrich themselves.

  To Ruprecht’s knowledge, Duke Kalush had just issued an ultimatum to them in the last hope of getting the Liories to act proactively for their own defense, but even then it may have been too late according to him, even with an immediate embargo on grain. Left with no choice, Duke Kalush gave him a top priority mission to secure a defense treaty above all with these newcomers to ensure Azuria’s existence, or at the very least, allow the people to survive the incoming horde of barbarians.

  “I’ll try my best… my Lord.” Ruprecht whispered, his head leaning against the car’s glass window.