[i]In ancient times the skies were still free
So come, come, my darling, to the skies with me[/i]

The fragment of that ancient song hovered on the edge of perception, on the edge of mind and heart. The tune is so vibrant that it makes you wish you knew the language of music so that you could do it justice, that the wind wasn't rushing through your hair so you might try to hum it. Despite its gentle, internal presence it is not of you - it is the whispering, brushing thought of an unguarded dragon whose heart overflows with music as the distant Sky Castle appears through the clouds.

And oh, the flags! The kites! They soar in their thousands, hanging in every colour and arrangement from every house's roof and balcony, from every exposed metal strut and from every ancient stonework! They fly and twist in the breeze, wind given form and colour and a population of hundreds of thousands! Perhaps without these schools of airborne fish, these ribbon snakes, these paper birds the Sky Castle might seem a grim thing. Perhaps it might seem to be what it once was - a huge and heavy vessel with a beak to crack asteroids and suck the water from comets. This is only a perhaps, though, for even if all the gifts of the winds were to be packed away tomorrow the flat and ugly ship would still be buried beneath the waving roots of impossible trees.

[i]When we were still children the skies were free
So come, come, my darling, to the skies with me[/i]

And around and above the kites buzz biplanes, triplanes, marvels of wood and fabric, the pride of each household's collective labour and effort. They glitter like dreams against the sunshards, bounding and leaping and diving in that strange flock logic that perhaps makes sense to each individual bird but together, from a distance, makes them subject to strange arcs and turns and dips and flows. 

It's the border of the world, the Sky Castle. If you are cursed then you must come here to find a cure; if you come here without a curse you will obtain one. If you have a childhood friend who goes away to live here she'll return a daring air pirate to snatch you away one night when you least suspect it; if you go away to visit it for the summer you'll fall in love with a goddess of the wind and will ever afterwards feel her fingers in your hair when the east wind rises. If you catch the golden ladder that hangs from the bottom of the castle and climb then when you reach the top you'll find a glorious dragon with her full court awaiting you to give you a wish; if you steal in with devil magic you'll find yourself overthrowing all to become king for a glorious season before the palace coup sees you fallen back to earth again. All the stories agree: you can't visit a place like this without it changing you somehow.

[i]I still love you and the skies are now free
So come, come, my darling, to the skies with me[/i]

You touch down onto the cool metal, softened by moss and corroded to natural colours by rust. Princess Jessic lands a moment later, pacing rapidly and flexing her wings to cool down after her long flight. Countess Keron takes the time to stroke her neck and give her a large flask of water before finally turning back to you.

"So, what should I do with each of you?" asked the Countess, moving close, serpentine. She casually takes Rose, then Yue, by the chin, turning their heads gently this way and that as her aloof dark eyes calculate. "Everything has its place, but what is yours? It'd be such a waste to throw such pretty girls in the dungeon when they might still be useful..."