“Indeed Hanna,” she replied and thrust her head back, her shoulders followed and her bosom heaved as the pair of them left the gaggle of children trailing behind them, “the balloon is not far now.”

Hanna caught the one boy sneer and his voice wheedled, “I think the balloon’s already walking up the road.” Without thinking she bent down and picked up a sharp rock, with a single heave of her thin arms she sent it sailing right into the boy’s forehead. It smacked off the lad’s skin and opened a ruddy red gash across it from which blood poured like a river, down across the yowling youth’s face and into his eyes, over his nose and across his lips.

“I’ll kill her, I’ll kill the little bitch!” he wailed and dropped to his knees.

Aunt Doria should have scolded Hanna, she should have reprimanded her. She didn’t however, something about the girl coming to her defence even after she’d been frankly horrible to her, it stopped the elder woman dead in her tracks and she looked back over to the children.

“If you come over here,” she growled deeply from the back of her throat. “I’ll snap your scrawny little necks like rotten wood!”

Hanna picked up another stone, she tested it and drew back her arm, “That’s enough,” snorted Doria and smacked it from her hand. “No more stones.”

Hanna rubbed her fingers and the slap in the cold air only made them hurt even more.

“Sorry, aunt,” she sucked on the ends and that just made them hurt a little more, “but I thought…”

Doria cut her off, “There is a time and place for things like this and you’ve made your point with the first stone Hanna, no need to belabour it.”

Hanna thought she understood and let the subject drop, they continued along the road until they finally left the muddy village and off to the side she saw the great balloon, a massive contraption of material, coloured in a black and gold with long red ropes forming a kind of net to hold the inflated bulbous object high in the air. Underneath it was a wicker basket festooned with a colourful crimson and purple silk drapery, the drapes had a singular icon on them of a candle in the centre of a feminine looking eye picked out in gold.

“It’s beautiful,” the young girl said and blinked a little as the sun slid out from behind a puffy white cloud. “I never imagined it would be so big.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” Doria replied with a little sway of pride in her voice. “Of course it is rather a nice balloon. It’ll do for getting us over those awful mountains.”

“I hate them,” the girl confided in her. “They spoilt everything, all my dreams.”

Aunt Doria opened her mouth to chide the girl, then she closed it again, “You’ve always wanted to go beyond them?”

“Yes!”

“Your mother and father never mentioned that little detail to me,” she huffed and made a mental note to chastise Kara if she saw her again. “Only to be expected, they are such simple folk. Not as sophisticated as myself.”

Hanna looked at the balloon again and when they finally reached it, she saw it was occupied by a man in a leather coat who wore thick brass goggles with round lenses made of glass. It gave him the impression of being some kind of clockwork owl, his avian features and thick bushy eyebrows did not serve to dissuade the girl either.

“Hello miss,” he said in a friendly enough tone. “Hello Lady Doria, are you ready to fly?”

“Yes Cotton,” Doria replied and allowed the man to help her into the basket, she settled into a large chair almost immediately and waited for Hanna to join her in the contraption. “Do help the girl in my dear man.”

He did as he was asked and offered Hanna a gloved hand, “It’s a bit of a steep climb for one so young, easy there, careful,” she took his hand and managed to scramble in dragging her toy cat with her.

“Thank you,” she said brightly and sat down on the floor of the basket, she could just about see the sky over the rim. “How high do we fly?”

“Oh questions young miss, already. I like you,” Cotton began to operate the hot air balloon. It rose into the sky with a soft lurching motion and Hanna felt the floor shift to the side, she looked around for something to hold on to but chose to curl up on the floor for a moment and get used to the gentle swaying motion. A jet of flame leapt above her from the burner and the operator smiled a little. “First balloon trip eh, good show.”

She smiled weakly and closed her eyes, she wanted to see the wonder beyond the edge of the basket but her fear was a little stronger. After all, not only was she going beyond the mountains, she was going over them in an unfamiliar contraption that defied those laws she’d always known when she jumped from the hayricks, you jump, you fall.

“Just relax dear,” Aunt Doria told her and laughed a little, she seemed like a completely different person to Hanna, not at all like the demon that had come into the house and demanded such things of her parents. “It will take us a good few hours to get over the mountains and then we arrive in Longhollow. Now that town has a windship docks.”

Hanna lifted up her head and nodded, “It does?” her fear for the moment seemed to lessen, not quite forgotten yet.

“Oh yes, we’re going to take a windship to Mistvale from there and then we’ll go straight to your new home,” Doria gained a wistful look and watched the sky pass by slowly. “Until then, enjoy the flight my dear and think of all the things you’re going to see.”

Hanna dared hope that Aunt Doria would be kind to her; the woman in the balloon seemed friendly enough, if somewhat abrupt. The pilot made her smile just by the way he looked and spoke. She could also tell he was an older man with a shock of grey hair, it didn’t bother him though, up here he appeared to lose at least ten or so years as he carefully piloted the balloon towards their destination.

The rest of the journey was made in silence apart from the occasional burst of flame and roar from the burner, the balloon sailed on until it crossed the mountains and dipped lower through the thin cloud cover towards the town of Longhollow, so named for it was cut into a slender valley that ran from the eastern edge of the mountains and continued on for several miles, a rough smattering of trees dotted the upper slopes of the valley and small rivers ran around it like tiny branches.

The town was a mid-sized miner’s settlement that had come originally to gather the rich minerals and ores from the nearby rocky mountains, over time though it had spread further down towards the nape of the valley’s neck and it had become prosperous as the years rolled on, until it now dominated two quarters of the interior with a diverse collection of buildings that ranged from the ramshackle like Hanna’s home, to the town hall that was carved from grey and roofed with a local slate, coloured a deep rich mahogany.

A curl of smoke coiled like a grey snake as the balloon drifted ever lower, Hanna finally gained the courage to look over the side and peered out at the sky. She looked down and saw the tiny people below her; they appeared like little dots on the landscape that grew larger as the contraption finally slipped down close enough to reveal salient details about the town. She could see that they had water wells, a steam driven device that she could only wonder about and various people moved around, some of them looked up.

She waved!

A few people waved back and then went about their business, they were dressed in a variety of styles, their clothes were immaculate compared to her rags and a lot of the woman made her intensely jealous all of a sudden. As the balloon landed upon a wooden platform she saw a man come forwards and tie it off, other men came along and set up a special ladder that fitted over the side of the basket and allowed egress.

Aunt Doria adjusted herself and smiled to Cotton, she gave him a single gold ikon and then ushered Hanna off. He waved goodbye and began to look carefully over the contraption as the two of them walked down another flight of stairs outside of the platform, when they were safely on the ground Doria pointed to a large building at the far end of the town.

“Come along, we don’t want to be late.”

“Ok auntie,” Hanna waved to the balloon man and walked alongside the elder woman, she marvelled at the various sights and sounds – some of them were overwhelming and then she saw a beautiful wooden and steel windship. The vessel was carved in a slender manner, all curves and very few angles. It looked as though it had taken a lifetime to make; it had been painted white and gold with dashes of colour provided by the various navigational flags and lanterns.

“Oh my,” the young girl blinked away a tiny tear, it was such a sight, “are we going on that one?”

“Oh yes we are,” Doria took her hand and pulled her to the side as a horse rode past; the rider barely noticed the pair of them. She gave him a wicked glare and then from that moment on kept Hanna’s hand in her own. “Some people have no manners, yet they pretend they do.”

“I see,” she made a note of that, if her aunt said it was true, then it must be true, Aunt Doria seemed to know everything. “You’re very wise auntie.”

Doria laughed a little, “Oh no, wise? Me, dear child I’m just well travelled.”

“Isn’t that the same as being wise?”

“Well,” Doria thought about this and watched the windship come in to land. “Yes and no, come along child we’re going to be late for the departure and I’m sure you don’t want to miss a ride on this ship do you?”

“No, no,” Hanna quickened her pace and began to almost drag Doria along; the elder woman sighed and followed her slightly out of breath from the child’s exuberance. It seemed though that she’d found a way to deal with the girl, she owed her that much, after all, the child had come to her defence back in that rotten little mud-puddle.

A whirr of propellers and a slight hiss of steam greeted them both as they made their way into the windship dock. Doria pulled out a small paper ticket and passed it to a man behind a terminal desk, he was an officious sort with a hooked nose and thin eyebrows, he took it, stamped it and shrugged, “Gate Two,” he paused to allow them to move and bellowed. “Next!”

They boarded the windship and settled into a pair of luscious seats, Hanna had never seen such opulence before in her life and she touched the soft leather several times as if it was a conjured image from her dream. Any moment now I am going to wake up and I’m going to be back in my mouldy old bed in that fish stinking village, she thought.

As the windship left Longhollow and took to the skies in a trail of steam and sparks, the so-called dream never came to an end. As the minutes turned into hours and the hours cascaded by like the soft clouds visible through the portholes on both sides of the ship Hanna finally realised that her old life was completely over and she was heading for something new, something interesting but at the same time frightening.

A woman with a wooden trolley came by and offered her a selection of sweets, drinks and even some savoury pies. She took a few and offered one to her aunt, Doria politely rebuffed it and said, “Oh no dear, you eat up, my figure’s fine as it is.”

It was a two day journey and the windship glided through the skies of Hestonia, curving across the landscape and when night fell the crystal lanterns lit up the vessel like shimmering stars, every need was catered to and the staff were polite and generous to a fault. Hanna felt less and less like the frightened village girl going beyond her dreams and more like a passenger upon this wondrous vessel.

She took a couple of long walks whilst Aunt Doria slept soundly, she was always careful to return of course. On one of these particular forays she chanced to find a young man, dressed in a sort of uniform standing looking out across the wide dark sky. His clothing was black and gold, around his neck he wore a small pendant made of wood, a cog with an eye at the centre.

“Hello,” she said hopefully.

“Greetings,” the boy replied in a flat tone, his eyes never went from the sky.

“I’m Hanna,” she tried again.

“I’m busy,” he answered and didn’t turn to look at her. “I must meditate as my master demands, or I will be punished for it.”

“Meditate, what’s that?” she couldn’t help but question the strange youth, something about this dark haired, dark eyed boy drew her even closer.

There was an imperceptible sigh that escaped his lips, he did not turn but he did address the question, “If you must know I am an acolyte of the Church of Progression, in training to be an Inquisitor and I cannot allow the common folk to deter me from my studies.” With that he completely ignored Hanna and straightened his posture.

“Oh,” she walked away at that and returned to her seat somewhat miserably to stare out of the window.

“Who was that Kalon?” said a voice behind the boy’s shoulder as he leant against the hand-rail of the windship.

“Immaterial,” the boy replied with a cold tone whilst he fixed his eyes on a nearby star.

“Very good, you’ll make a fine Inquisitor some day,” Inquisitor Gatiss turned and went back through the door to his private chambers; he sat down at a desk and opened a thick leather book. The man’s youthful features, slight build and short brown hair made him look younger than he really was; he was in fact in his forties and had aged extremely well. He made a note regarding Kalon’s progress and smiled inwardly, it was true: he sensed great things in store for that boy.