‘Thousands of people weren't exactly a quiet thing,’ Books found himself thinking, not for the first time.

He missed his study.

As much as he knew others had it worse, in the quiet of his own mind, Books allowed himself that much. Even from the observation deck of the landship, the noise of thousands of people couldn’t be escaped.

An exodus of the like he’d only read of.

He’d been startled when Althon had given him the seven ancient machines. It hadn’t helped that the old man had delivered them with his characteristic understatement.

A few ‘minor artifacts’ to help with the effort, he’d said. Each landship was large enough to carry twenty tons of cargo in their hold. That was before the spatial enchantments that increased that by a factor of a hundred.

Despite their sophistication, getting them out of the river and to the start of the highroad had been quite the task. Creating a road for machines their size was a challenge, even with a proficient stone mage among their number.

Especially while warding off the monsters that came flooding in. Books hadn’t appreciated how difficult such a task was without proper walls. The experience had caused him to grudgingly raise his opinion of his neighbor. It seemed Magus Lenexxa’s combat ability hadn’t been exaggerated.

Despite her insistence, Books found it difficult to think of her as simply Nexxa.

Still, he could understand why Lenexxa hadn’t been able to rebuild the road on her own.

Even after they got the landships to the intact portion of the highroad, they proved to be rather slow. It wasn’t a serious issue, considering the number of people milling about below them, who weren’t moving any faster. The landships had clearly been meant for the highroad, their spindly wheels slotting perfectly into a set of grooves barely a fraction of an inch deep.

He’d been worried about people getting themselves hurt when he’d seen the oars that had driven them up the river shift into the spindly wheels. Except once the wheels had slotted into place, each of the wheels proved to have a latent enchantment that pushed those who got too close safely to the side.

The wheels also marked anyone they had to push away with a crimson aura. It looked much like draping a silk scarf over the shoulders. A way to keep the drain low, Books suspected. Likely the imagery had once been a mark of embarrassment.

It certainly served as one to any adult who found themselves marked in such a manner now.

Unfortunately, there were a great number of children as part of their convoy. And they’d taken acquiring the marking as a challenge once they’d been forbidden from getting too close to the wheels.

Even now, Books could see dozens of children running around beneath him, crimson shoulders making it effortless to pick them out of the browns, blues and greys that otherwise dominated.

He could’ve modified the enchantments, yet he had no doubt the children would tire of their game. Afterall, the marking made them much easier to pick out of the crowd for their parents.

A small smile tugged at his lips as one such child was caught by his mother and brought to help prep vegetables on the platform that hung beneath the landship in front of him.

It hadn’t taken long for his people to find ways to expand the amount of workspace each landship provided, both hanging platforms and scaffolding suspended off the sides. The slow speed allowed easy loading and off-loading, allowing a great deal of work to be done on the move.

Still, he’d insisted that each landship maintain some space on the top deck for simple relaxation.

A piercing voice shattered his self imposed isolation.

"There's another wave coming at us from the north, Magus Dominus," the young ensouled said. Zelinus, if he recalled correctly. Like him, she’d grown up in the City on the Water. He tried not to hold it against her.

She was one of dozens of volunteers Althon had arranged to help keep the exodus safe, one of the harder workers even among such a proactive group. If her competence continued, he’d reward her with a chance to copy one of his first order spells.

"I shall deal with it," Books replied, using his best, 'this isn't a real problem' smile.

He'd had a lot more practice with that smile since they'd set out than he was used to. The initial practice had paid off, despite his little brother's teasing at the time. At the very least, Books no longer scared the people around him when he smiled, as he’d tended to do when he was young.

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Zelinus even nodded, giving him a smile of her own, brushing a hand through her hair. Yes, a marked improvement over the wincing.

A few quick steps to the side of the landship, and he stepped off, allowing his innate magic to carry him towards the back of the exodus. He waved and nodded to his people as he passed. Over twenty thousand souls, all under his protection. And more streaming in from Dragons knew where, taking advantage of their passing, drawn to the highly visible landships.

The diversity was impressive. He’d once believed himself a cultured man, having been long exposed to the variety of people who visited the City on the Water. Yet he saw all manners of minor variants among these people. Elongated ears, eyes of all shapes and colors, and more than a few styles of horns and tails.

Even a woman with feathered wings. A truly surprising evolution, though she’d never learned how to fly with them. He hadn’t felt comfortable pressing her on why.

He’d read that several older empires had been less tolerant of such variances and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was only now seeing the truth of what those policies had meant.

Most people didn’t choose to live in the barren valleys of the Frigid Peaks if they had a better choice.

It didn't take Books long to find the latest group of monsters. Several of his hunters were already nearby, waiting.

That was good. He'd had several instances of them trying to stay back until after he'd dealt with the monsters, only to fail to harvest the meat before the next wave of monsters were upon them. Considering how willing the monsters were to consume each other’s flesh, letting them catch up was rather counterproductive.

He could only secure so much space at once.

Dealing with the monsters was simple. A few focused spinning bolts of water drilled directly through their foreheads and they collapsed. Unfortunately, there wasn't so much as a single tier 2 among them.

Yet, as he'd taught the sibling Magus Domini nearly a year before it wasn’t wise to leave resources laying about. Or as his diligent student Perth had phrased it, waste not, want not.

As the hunters moved in to start the harvest, Books thoughts shifted to the east. Those siblings were waiting for him.

When he'd tutored them, he'd been certain he'd never see the younger one again. Perhaps, on the outside, he'd anticipated Perth visiting in a couple decades when his oath had been fulfilled and he'd decided to move somewhere more civilized.

Instead, Perth had found a secret. A way to move the beacons. Lenexxa had implied it was only one of many. She hadn’t intended to do so, but after months of interacting with her, he’d learned when she was holding things back.

His gaze shifted towards the last of the landships, where his own beacon was slotted into place.

Books had told Althon about the ability to move beacons, of course.

Althon had already known. Had likely known longer than the City on the Water existed. The landships were equipped with the very enchantment Nexxa had shared with him.

After listening silently to everything Books had learned, as well as what he suspected remained hidden, Althon had held up his hand, stopping him.

“Do not share this with your peers. Promise me,” Althon had said, turning those heavy eyes on Books.

“Why? Would it not be useful to consolidate our forces?” Books hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking.

“Too many would simply abandon their people if they knew they could grab their beacon and run,” Althon had told him, shaking his head.

“I swear, I shall keep my silence,” Books had told his mentor.

Books had agreed with the sentiment even before half Althon’s sworn Magus Domini had attacked the dragon-souled the month before.

As if that very thought wasn't insane enough, the old dragon-souled had said something even crazier after he’d gotten Books’ vow of silence.

"Take your people east. They'll be safer there."

Books had stared blankly for far longer than he would've preferred. Thankfully, other than the Dragon-souled Magus, no one had been there to witness his stupefaction.

"You'll have others following you. No more Magus Domini, but I have other ensouled. As many volunteers as I can convince. New opportunities," Althon said, nodding to himself as he moved around his table. "Yes, that'll save a few more."

"Why?" Books couldn't help but ask. “Why send me east? Don’t you need me here?”

Nexxa had told him the Pillars were failing, and like the beacons, Books had shared it with his mentor. But Althon hadn't been any more surprised by that news than the fact the beacons could be moved.

"Because I've failed, is why," Althon said, letting out a long sigh. He waved his hand, and the map changed color. Everything beyond the central valleys turned red, slowly growing darker. "We've all failed. Centuries we’ve been trying to figure out those Fronting pillars, and yet not one of us was successful. Too many small minds with too much power.”

“But… you’re a dragon-souled. Can you really do nothing?” Books had found himself asking.

“The pillars held back monsters stronger than even me,” Althon said, shaking his head. “I am not entirely unprepared, yet this recent sabotage… they timed it well. One of our own seeks to take advantage of the chaos. I'll protect the City, open the emergency shelters, house everyone I can but beyond that… I'm not strong enough to stop what's coming. Not alone."

That simple statement had filled Books with an ominous dread. One he hadn't been able to shake. Not entirely.

His attention returned to his surroundings as a flash lit up the sky. Even with his Gryphon's Sight spell active, it took a few fractions of a second for his vision to recover. And he'd been looking away from the source.

Turning, he saw a ripple in the air as it approached. A simple Waters Of The City spell brought forth a wedge of water, shielding the occupants of the bridge behind him as it disrupted the wave.

Even so, it rumbled as it rolled past.

Books didn't have time to wonder what had caused such an event, already flying towards his hunters who hadn't had the benefit of his shield. He could see several who were injured.

Whatever that was, it hadn't soothed the dread.

Books found his thoughts turning back to the last thing Althon had told him, before sending him away.

“Of all the mages I’ve trained over the years… you are the only one I would mourn if they died too soon. I know it will be difficult for you, but remember, no matter what comes Books, my boy, there’s more to life than duty.”