Skybound

The carriage rattled along the cobbled road, the rhythmic clatter of hooves filling the comfortable silence between them. Kyra shifted slightly, adjusting her position on Arman's lap, her tail curling possessively around his arm. She had been unusually cheerful since uncovering her mother's grimoire—lighter, almost playful.

Too playful, if the way she kept wriggling against him was any indication.

Arman exhaled sharply as she nestled closer, her warmth seeping through the fabric of his coat. "Maybe a little too happy…" he muttered under his breath.

Kyra's ears twitched. She tilted her head up, golden eyes wide with feigned innocence. "What was that?"

"Nothing." His voice came out gruffer than intended, and he cleared his throat as she deliberately shifted again, drawing an involuntary groan from him.

She smirked, clearly pleased with herself, before turning her attention back to the window. The rolling hills outside blurred past, but her gaze was fixed on the horizon—where their destination awaited.

"So," she said, changing the subject with a flick of her tail, "how are we getting to the island? A boat would take too long, wouldn't it?"

Arman smirked. "We're flying."

Her ears shot upright. "Flying?"

He reached past her, pushing the carriage window open wider, and pointed toward the sky. There, anchored at the edge of the city's tallest docking spire, loomed a massive airship—its silver-plated hull gleaming under the afternoon sun, its balloon a billowing expanse of enchanted silk.

Kyra's breath hitched.

"That's our ride?" she whispered, tail wagging so fast it blurred.

Arman chuckled. "Didn't know you'd get this excited over an airship."

She barely heard him, still staring, enraptured. "It's huge! And—and shiny! Are those rune engines?!"

He watched her, amused. "Miren's already on the island, waiting for us in the city as my personal attendant. We'll have plenty of time to get your academy supplies once we arrive."

Kyra finally tore her gaze away from the window, but the excitement still thrummed through her, evident in the restless flick of her ears and the way her claws pricked lightly against his thigh.

Then, abruptly, she stilled. A thoughtful look crossed her face.

"Oh! I almost forgot—" She twisted in his lap, reaching into the inner pocket of her coat and pulling out the grimoire. "I've been practicing."

Arman raised a brow. "Practicing what?"

Instead of answering, she flipped through the pages, stopping at a section marked with foxkin runes. Her fingers traced the symbols, murmuring under her breath—and then, in a shimmer of golden light, her form shifted.

Where Kyra had been, a small, russet-furred fox now sat proudly in his lap, the grimoire nearly as big as she was.

Arman blinked. "You learned how to extend your transformation?"

She yipped in affirmation, tail thumping against his arm.

He huffed a laugh. "Convenient. You'll need to stay like this on the airship—less attention."

Kyra gave a foxish grin before suddenly darting forward, scrambling up his chest and tucking herself inside his shirt, her tiny body pressed snugly against him.

Arman froze.

"Kyra—"

She peeked out from the collar, whiskers twitching. "What? It's comfy. And it smells like you."

His jaw clenched. "You're going to be the death of me."

She only nuzzled deeper, her warmth a distracting weight against his ribs.

The airship's boarding ramp lowered with a hiss of pressurized steam. Around them, crew members bustled about, loading cargo and checking manifests. Kyra remained hidden in Arman's shirt, her small form barely noticeable beneath his coat—though the occasional flick of her tail against his side was far from subtle.

A uniformed attendant approached, clipboard in hand. "Name and destination, sir?"

"Arman Valcreth. Arcanum Academy."

The attendant nodded, marking something down. "And you're traveling alone?"

Before Arman could respond, a tiny, indignant growl vibrated against his chest.

He coughed, covering the sound with a forced clearing of his throat. "Yes. Just me."

The attendant eyed him strangely but said nothing, handing him a boarding pass before moving on.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Kyra's muffled voice came from inside his shirt. "Alone? Really?"

"Would you rather I explain why I have a fox in my coat?"

She huffed but didn't argue.

They ascended the ramp, stepping onto the airship's polished deck. The vessel hummed with latent magic, the floor thrumming beneath their feet as the engines prepared for departure. Around them, passengers milled about—nobles in fine silks, merchants with guarded expressions, and a few robed individuals who were undoubtedly fellow academy students.

Arman found their assigned cabin—a modest but well-appointed room with a circular window overlooking the clouds. The moment the door clicked shut, Kyra wriggled free, leaping onto the bed in a flash of golden light as she shifted back.

"Finally," she groaned, stretching her arms above her head. "Do you know how hard it is to stay still like that?"

Arman arched a brow. "You were moving the entire time."

She stuck her tongue out at him before flopping onto the mattress, the grimoire clutched to her chest. "At least now I can read properly."

He watched her for a moment, the way her tail flicked lazily, the way her fingers traced the book's spine with reverence. She had changed since finding it—not just in power, but in spirit. There was a confidence in her now, a certainty that hadn't been there before.

It suited her.

"We'll reach the island by nightfall," he said, leaning against the cabin wall. "Once we land, we'll head straight to the academy's supply quarter. You'll need proper robes, materials—whatever else they require."

Kyra hummed, flipping a page. "Mmm. And Miren's already there?"

"Yes. She'll have secured lodging for us."

She glanced up, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Our lodging?"

Arman's expression didn't change. "Separate rooms."

Kyra sighed dramatically. "Boring."

He rolled his eyes, pushing off the wall. "Try not to burn the ship down while I'm gone."

"Wait—where are you going?"

"To speak with the captain. Stay here."

She waved him off, already absorbed back in the grimoire. "Yes, yes."

The moment the door closed behind him, however, her ears perked up.

A slow, sly smile curled her lips.

Maybe a little exploration wouldn't hurt…