CH1194 · Rewrite
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Chapter 1194: The Only Request

After dinner, Tilly told Roland what had happened at the airport.

“Because of a feeling?” Roland set down his cup. “That’s the reason you changed your mind?”

“What — not good enough?” Tilly folded her arms.

“You wrote the rules for the Aerial Knight Academy, so you’re the authority.” He raised a hand in surrender. “I’m only curious what that feeling actually means.”

“Talent,” Tilly said. “You don’t know anything about flying. Ordinary students follow the manual mechanically — precise, correct, dead. But certain people can visualize it. They see the result before they move. They know what the plane will do before they’ve done it.”

“That does sound remarkable,” Roland said, with a diplomatic neutrality that failed to convince either of them.

He admitted it freely to himself: if not for Tilly, there would be no air force. She had built it, tested it, improved it, pushed the designs from blueprints scavenged from the Dream World into actual machines flying actual combat missions. Left to Roland’s instincts, he would have assumed that a plane was simply a machine — that you learned the manual, practiced the procedures, and eventually flew.

“I have that talent too,” Tilly said, a shadow of regret in her voice. “Which means I can recognize it. You — if you were enrolled at the Academy, you’d probably be expelled, brother.”

Roland nearly choked. Behind him, he heard Nightingale swallow a laugh.

“You think anyone can become a pilot with enough repetition,” Tilly went on, reading the remnant of the thought on his face. “And some people do develop reflexes through sheer repetition — that’s real. But feeling it, from the start, is its own kind of talent, and it develops much faster. Most people will never reach it no matter how long they practice. They’ll fly. But in a fight — between those two kinds of pilot, which one survives?”

Roland said nothing.

The gifted ones. Obviously. They learned faster, adapted faster, extracted lessons from each mistake that the others simply couldn’t access. Without that faculty, a pilot remained fragile, one bad situation from dead.

“Though that’s not always the case,” Roland said after a pause. “The student who answered correctly today — maybe he was lucky. The right guess at the right moment.”

“Which is why I asked him to fly,” Tilly said simply.

“And the other two?”

“They chose to fly as well.”

Roland blinked. “Both of them? I’m genuinely impressed.” He paused. “Isn’t it a shame to expel them? Being dismissed from this particular school leaves a mark on their records — it makes everything harder afterward. Ground staff and maintenance crews are paid well, the positions are stable, there are housing and medical benefits. We have fewer than two hundred pilot trainees in Neverwinter. I don’t want to lose any of them lightly.”

“The Aerial Knight Academy has no use for students without the gift.” Tilly’s voice dropped. “Bravery without talent doesn’t make a better pilot. It makes a faster casualty. Better they leave now.”

A silence settled. Roland fetched two drinks and set one in front of her. Tilly uncurled slightly and changed course.

“Speaking of which — my new aircraft. Any progress?”

His heart tightened. He had known this was coming. “I think we should proceed slowly on that front. The Academy needs you here. Your presence in Neverwinter poses a greater threat to the demons than — ”

Tilly didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her eyes held a clarity that had nothing accommodating in it.

Roland exhaled.

She wasn’t asking about the Unicorn. She was asking about a true combat aircraft — something built to kill demons at altitude. After Ashes died, Tilly had come apart in his arms in the dark, inconsolable, and when morning came she had told him in a flat voice that she wanted a plane capable of taking the fight directly to them. She wanted revenge.

His evasion had not moved her. Months had passed, and it had not moved her.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“You weren’t this hesitant when you planned the ambush on Ursrook.”

“That was logistics. This is the front line.”

“The difference is smaller than you think.” She shook her head. “In both cases, I’m putting my ability in service of the people who need it. I agreed to send Ashes forward. I knew the risks in the sky — aerial knights can’t hold against demons in numbers, and the numbers will always favor the demons. Only I can change that equation.”

“But the Academy — ”

“I’ll fulfill my responsibilities. I’ll train qualified instructors before I leave, people who can expand the Academy after me.” She held his gaze and said it without inflection, which made it land harder: “I know I’m being selfish. This is my only request.”

Roland looked at her for a long moment. At last: “I understand.”

Tilly unclenched her hand. “Thank you.”

He called after her as she turned to leave. “One more thing — any preference on the color?”

She paused, puzzled. “The color of the aircraft? Not really.”

“What about red?”

“Does it matter?”

“The side that commands the sky tends to fly that color,” Roland said quietly.

Tilly’s mouth curved. “Then red.”

She was gone. Nightingale came to stand beside Roland.

“Her Highness is serious this time,” she said.

“That’s what troubles me.” He pressed his fingers against his forehead. When Tilly had said this is my only request, something underneath the words had made itself plain — a perseverance ground down to its irreducible core. Roland could help her avenge Ashes, or he could watch her hope calcify into a grief that would never open again. He had understood, dimly, that refusing would mean losing her in a different way entirely.

“She’s changed,” Nightingale said. “But I understand her. If it were you — ” She stopped herself and shook her head. “No. I can’t even imagine it.”

Roland sat with the silence. War remade the people inside it whether they consented or not, and kept remaking them, and meanwhile the destruction continued. The only way to stop it — to stop what it was doing to Tilly, to all of them — was to end the Battle of Divine Will. As quickly as possible. Whatever that required.

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