Professor Layton and the Angel's Prophecy

Flight Over London

Had the windows not been left open, perhaps they would not have been aware of the airship's approach. As it was, all the windows were open, previously letting in the cool air throughout Layton's apartment. So when a massive airship approached the quaint little apartment, a great gust of wind tore through all the windows, sending papers and items flying about in chaos.

"Shut the windows, quickly!" Hershel cried, already at the first window, slamming it shut. Flora and Clive snapped out of their daze and moved to help. With the outside disturbance cut off, the three could breathe, and properly appreciate the majesty of the Bostonius.

Both Clive and Flora had not seen the ship – the last time Layton had flown in it was during his greatest adventure, when the legacy of the Azran civilisation threatened to destroy the world. The original ship was the property of his brother, Desmond Sycamore, or Jean Descole, or the real Hershel, though it was much too confusing to pick a name, and so Hershel decided Descole would suffice. Hershel had seen Descole depart with the airship, and thought perhaps he might see his brother again one day. And he did, though that was part of another adventure...

What is important from their latest encounter is that Descole left with Hershel the blueprint of the Bostonius, while he kept the original. Hershel took the designs to Scotland Yard, and it had since become an official vehicle of the Yard, though only in the most urgent of cases. He thought this Angel ordeal qualified.

There really was no time to gather materials, so Hershel hurried Flora and Clive out of the door and into the courtyard, once more assaulted by the viscous winds. People stared from out of their windows – one woman struggled to reel in her dog who was being lifted in the air from the force. The Bostonius had nowhere to land, so a ladder began to slowly descend. Hershel watched as Clive leaped on first and then he nodded for Flora to do the same. Looking dizzyingly up to the roaring airship, and back to the Professor, her eyed betrayed her. Whimpering, she shook her head.

"I can't..."

"You can, Flora. Here, let me help you."

Taking her hand, he helped her onto the ladder, and held on. Giving it a firm tug, the ladder began to rise, and as Hershel looked down, he was in awe of the street he knew so well, slowly shrinking before him and becoming but a distant dot. Well, it wasn't that high up, but it still seemed a long way up.

Flora kept herself wrapped up in the Professor's chest, and Hershel called to mind times in their adventures years past when she had done the same. Now Flora was a blossoming young woman, taller than before, and she carried herself as such. Even so, she would still need the Professor's help when she was afraid, and though that would not always be the case, he would be there for her should she ever need him.

As the ladder reached the top, clearly a mechanical process, Hershel prompted Flora to take the final little climb up onto the airship, where Clive took her hand and helped her up. Two men appeared from the wings, ready to aid Flora, but she was safely up, brushing herself down. She thanked Clive with a lovely smile, moving aside to allow the Professor space.

A tremor ran through the airship, a hideous bang emanating from the control room.Hershel ignored it and accepted the eager men's assistance. There they introduced themselves as Agent Cookson and Agent Southcombe. Behind them, four more agents stood ready for action. Unusually, they dressed casually, but that was for the best, Hershel realised. The police force of London could not help in Monte d'Or, but these men showed no signs of their allegiances.

Being aboard the Bostonius was like taking a step back in time, though in reality, it was not at all the same. Not only was this a completely different vehicle, but much of the interior was different, and there was a metallic feel about the place. Whereas Descole's Bostonius was very welcoming and homely, full of antique furniture and grand architecture – a cruise ship to be sure, this Bostonius rang of Scotland Yard throughout. Navy blue walls with metal arches, plain chairs and dull tables scattered throughout: this Bostonius was pure business.