Airborn Novels & Stories

**Ace's point of view:** Ace stared out the window of the plane, watching the landscape blur beneath him. Frustration boiled in his veins. He had spent weeks in a foreign country, chasing shadows and dead ends. The man who had been intercepting his supplies had vanished without a trace, leaving Ace empty-handed and seething with rage.

Carrie was overly excited to be going for vacation with her favourite people, she couldn’t stay calm all through the ride she kept asking questions like “are we there now, when can I go play, can we swim there Daddy" Todd was driving so Amber answered most of the questions that Carrie asked, when the car parked in front of the house, Amber got down from the car and looked around, the view was breath taking, the house was made with dark brown woods and there were trees scattered all around, the drive way was paved with grey interlocks.

he asks. “That would be me,” I say. “Great!” he says. “Well, I have a car parked out front, if you would follow me.” I follow him outside the airport where a black Mercedes SUV is waiting. He opens the back hatch and takes my suitcase from me, lifting it inside one handedly with ease. He leads me to the passenger side of the car, where he opens the back door and beckons for me to enter. After I’m situated, he closes the door and hops in the front passenger seat. “So… Amikat” he starts. “I’m Samuel, Arienne’s Gamma.”

Simple, yet effective. Given there are no classes today, I assume the training grounds will be empty. Everyone either sleeping off a hangover, or sleeping in a bed that doesn't belong to them. It's not a secret that students at Aetherion Academy love to party and crawl into others beds. It's an easy way to blow off steam.

Or you can just text me the play-by-play Me: Stop! This is serious! Blake Sexy AF: Ok how can I help? Me: I need to buy a Jeep Wrangler Blake Sexy AF: Random? Me: It’s a long story. . . But can you please help since you have one? Blake Sexy AF: What do you need help with? Me: I don’t know how to buy a car. . . Blake Sexy AF: Why does it have to be a Jeep Wrangler? Me: This is easier to explain not over text but I can’t call you right now because my parents are home. Can we talk tomorrow? I will get out of work at 10

Just one more time before we float off in the wind And all the time we spent Waiting for the light to take us in Have been the greatest moments of my life I don’t care how long it takes As long as I’m with you, I’ve got a smile on my face Save your tears, it’ll be okay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay-ay-ay-ay Yeah, if with me Oh, oh, oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh I can’t describe, oh, oh (Song by D4vd) When he was done, Aurora didn’t even care about anyone or anything, shs ran towards him and enveloped him in a tight hug as a tear trickled down her eyes. Not only was he awesome, he was also a great singer. “What more could she want from a man? “Babe?” Her voice was cracky. “No tears my queen”Malcolm whispered. The

I asked and he just nodded and with a last glance, he went back to his work. " oofff too much hot to handle" I left his cabin fanning myself because suddenly I am feeling hot. After gathering my things I left my cabin waving at Katherine I entered the elevator. I pressed the parking lot's button and waited patiently. The entire building is empty with only five, ten employees.

But not today. What did it matter? On this day and for the first time in his life, Bjorn would go beyond Kabutar’s windmills, structures, Mother Tree, and even Cloud. Today he would brave the fierce blaze of open-air sunlight—for a short spell. Taking caution to ensure that his transparent pectoral fins remained unobstructed, he dressed in a customized HB moisturizing mantle. Although expensive and awkward to wear, the cloaks were a necessary burden for Airbornes intent upon a surface world journey.

Private Dragon Aerie, High Atmosphere** Lucian’s aerie is hidden high—above the cloud-oceans, where the air is thin and crisp, tasting of sharp ice crystals that melt on the tongue and raw, breathless freedom, the constant wind a low, intimate moan against the walls, carrying the faint, electric tang of high-altitude ozone mixed with the distant salt spray from drifting mists far below.

Instantly, I look out the window and the first thing I see is a big navy blue building surrounded by numerous guards and bound by a very tall metal fence with electric wires at the top. “Welcome to Robertson Behavioural Management School. Your home for the next year…at the very least.”