While Kaelen and Lyra were learning the truth from the Aetheri, back in Zephyr Hold, Commander Ironclad was making his own plans.
He had gathered the Skycaller military forces and connected the city's defensive cannons directly to the beacon network. His plan was simple and terrifying: create a massive shield of concentrated wind magic, a wall that would push the Tempest back and crush it into submission.
"It is the only way to ensure our survival," he told his officers.
"We cannot risk letting this chaos touch our lands, our people, our way of life. Order must be maintained at all costs."
Word of his plan reached the Zephyr's Blade through their long-distance communication crystal. Lyra held the glowing stone, listening to the desperate message from her friends back home.
"He's going to fire in three days," she said, her voice tight with worry. "If he hits the Tempest while it's waking up… the backlash could shatter the atmosphere. It could tear the floating islands from the sky and send them crashing down."
"We have to get to the center first," Kaelen said, his jaw set.
"We have to show him there's another way."
"But the currents are getting stronger," Reeve warned, looking at the roiling clouds ahead. "It's like sailing into the mouth of a dragon."
"Then we sail faster," Kaelen said. "Lyra, can you navigate us through the worst of it?"
She looked at the storm ahead, then at the navigation charm Kaelen wore. It was glowing brightly, pointing true.
"I can," she said. "The wind wants us to be there. It's calling us."