Unbound

Chapter Seven Hundred And Seventy Eight – 778

The storm raged around them, the Manaships cutting through it like a sharpened blade. Clouds spilled in their wake as lightning crashed across the bow, shaking them as the Manaships crested then rode down the trough of storm winds and towering cumulonimbus clouds. Thunder rolled so loudly it vibrated Pit's chest and made his beak ache.

They banked left, their wind ward plowing a chunk out of another cloud. Foggy mist sprayed in their wake, diffused so immediately by the rain that it almost looked like the sea that surged far below. Most of the soldiers had moved below decks as they'd set out into the storm, but a few clung to the wales, where the lip of the railing gave them a solid purchase as the ship wove between lightning strikes. They all bared their teeth, gritting against the onslaught of violent weather.

"Faster," Pit barked ecstatically, his tongue lolling in the breeze.

He was having a blast.

They’d been traveling for hours now. When he wasn't enjoying the surge and swell of the rough skies, Pit was exploring. A’zek was huddled beneath the deck, claiming that he wanted to nap, but really he just hated flying. Pit didn't get it, but then he didn't have to. He was happy for his friend to find comfort where he could.

Pit was too curious for that.

The Arclights and Chanters were still bustling around the vessel, inspecting every inch of board and rope and taking scads of notes in those metal-bound books they all carried. Loquis told Pit that the things were waterproof, as was the ink being used, a development from the Alchemical Lab that the scholars and mages had bought up immediately. Though he didn't bother with the written notes, Pit nosed around, too, and the ship had turned out to be extremely interesting, even if he didn't understand all of what he saw. Thankfully, Loquis was eager for an audience.

"These are enchanted lanterns," the Half-Orc said, pointing to the triangular metal shapes that bobbed along the railings and guy wires. They were made of mithril but contained a bright piece of illumination that was very similar to the freestanding magelights Pit was more used to seeing. Loquis made a gesture, and one of them floated into his palm, where it hovered. "You can summon them from all over, and they'll hang around you, lighting up your way.”

“Whoa!”

He grasped the lantern and tipped it. A tiny array was scratched into the bottom, filled with many complicated, crisscrossing sigils and glyphs. "It's inscribed, but it's also acting as a piece of the whole ship. Like it's one thing. Whoever controls the ship controls all of these. Kyva!"

The helmsman looked up. "Yes?"

Loquis, in turn, hefted the lantern. "Can you…" The triangular object was yanked out of the mage's grip faster than he could speak, rocketing back to the railing Loquis had pulled it from. The mage laughed. "See? I was still using it, but the helmsman's control superseded my own. Thanks, Kyva."

The Henaari waved absently at them and focused on driving the ship through another small swell of cloud.

"So, it's like Authority?" Pit asked.

"It's exactly like Authority. Fascinating, isn't it?"

"It is." Pit looked up at the many sails above them. They exuded that same ethereal white glow as before, maintaining the wind ward around them. They also twitched, the lines adjusting their lengths and angle as the Manaship rode across the sky. "What about those? What about them? Who's keeping the rain off of us? Kyva?"

"Oh, that's an automatic process. The inscriptions in the Belais crystal and the sails provide the method, while the mana engine provides the power. Other than directing the ship, I don't think the helmsman can do much besides turn the wind ward on or off."

Pit nodded. Tzfell had already explained how the Belais crystal was piloting the ship, at least in broad terms. According to her, the helmsman's will was interacting directly with the craft, amplified by his Manaship Pilot Skill.

It reminded him of the pirate ships in the Void, which were a great deal more ramshackle than even the meanest craft on the continent. The largest difference was that these sleek vessels didn't require some poor soul to be strapped down into the engine in order to fuel it. Here, there were a number of enclosed structures flanking the engines that were absolutely filled with powerful monster cores.

"What about the figureheads? Or the anchor? How do those work?" Pit asked. He’d heard there was something special going on with both.

Loquis leaned against the wale. "I don't know. The Chanters are looking at them still. The figureheads have some sort of elemental attunement going on."

Pit frowned. "Objects can't have attunement. They don't have core spaces."

The Half-Orc just shrugged, not seeming particularly concerned about it. "I'm just saying what the chanter said. I'm good with lightning, and that's about it. Whatever sigaldry is in there is beyond me. The anchor is far stranger."

Pit tilted his head.

"It's just a big hunk of wood," the mage explained. "High-Tier wood, I'll give you that, but it's not even attached to anything. No rope or chain. Manaships have anchors, but they're huge and only ever used close to the ground.”

“Maybe they were used on those floating cities," Pit suggested.

"Maybe." Loquis looked up at the Navigator. The illusory orb still hung there in the middle of the deck, marked with a pulsing crimson line. "How much longer do you think?"

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"We're close," Kyva said from the helm.

Loquis looked to the orb and back at the Henaari. "I see plenty of red line left."

"We'll reach its end in another quarter-glass at most."

"Huh," Loquis worried at his upper lip with his tusks. "Did the ship tell you that?"

"The Navigator is speaking to me, in its own way. I am not sure how to explain it other than that."

The mage rubbed his chin and looked at the deck. "Hmm, so your Authority is communicating with the ship’s."

"More like my Skill is. I've gained many levels in just a few short glasses."

"Your Skill, that's right. It's likely acting as a proxy for the Authority required. Interesting."

Pit hopped from one foot to the other, his small hound body unable to handle the anticipation he was feeling. "We're almost to the spot?"

Kyva inclined his head. "We are, though the way ahead is still very rough, and the storm only grows worse."

Pit turned and ran to the prow, nudging aside the Chanters who were busy studying the figurehead. One of them started to say something, but the others shushed him. Pit wasn't sure why, or the reason for the frightened looks they directed toward him. Probably something Felix did. Pit clambered atop the figurehead. Maybe Felix ate someone in front of them. People don't seem to like that. Ooh!

Lightning skittered across a towering cloud formation ahead, illuminating pieces of its dark underbelly even as it rapidly swelled and deformed. It was quite pretty. The thunder hit soon after, deafening as it plastered his fur back against his chest, like being hit by a giant, soft pillow.

Someone behind him shouted an alarm. Pit ignored them, too.

He waited.

And waited.

Until finally, the Navigator lit up and released a soft, descending chime.

"We've arrived," Kyva announced.

People climbed to the deck, Vess and Evie followed by Tzfell, Laur, and many others. Pit spared them only a fleeting glance before turning his attention forward to the goal he'd been after all this time.

The sky was empty.

"No, that can't be right," Pit muttered. He spun, flaring his Perception as he tried to take in every direction. "Where's the tenku?”

“Where's anythin’?" Evie asked. "All I see is more storm."

The ship slid sideways as a particularly powerful gale slammed into them, and Pit felt a few raindrops spear through the wind ward. The other ships bobbed sideways as well, decks rolling hard, but he didn't care.

“There was supposed to be—” Pit licked his beak. "Where—?"

"Pit, it will be alright," Vess stepped close. "Did the Sylphaen ever say what the map led to?"

"They said we could get answers, if the storms allow it."

Vess frowned. "You failed to mention that detail previously."

"I thought it was just fancy talk!" Pit barked. "I didn't think—what are the storms going to do about it, anyway?"

Thunder rolled, unaccompanied by lightning. This time, however, it didn't stop. It only grew louder.

"Blighted Night," Evie cursed. Several of the soldiers around them put their hands up to their ears. It was so loud that it felt like a constant pressure against them. And it was getting worse.

"This is…unnatural," Vess said. "Evie.”

“On it." Evie ran and leaped onto a guy wire before ricocheting off onto a second, then a third. Each time, she went higher until she reached the gaff, where she perched like a slender bird.

"Storm's going wild. Left side. Port! Port side."

"The atmosphere of this entire Territory is constantly in flux," Tzfell pointed out. “‘Wild’ is a remarkably unhelpful description, child."

"Fine. The clouds over there are acting weird.”

“...Define weird."

From off the port side of the ship, beyond even their leftmost flank of their fleet, something burst from the dark clouds. It was bright, wreathed in a halo of white-green and trailing clouds from its pinions like smoke.

Pinions? Pit narrowed his eyes, his Perception zeroing in on the creature despite the near mile that separated them. "That—that's a tenku!"

"Hey! Hey!"

He cried out, hopping atop the figurehead to get their attention. The tenku was small, even accounting for distance. Smaller even than A’zek. More than that, they were fast—they moved across the horizon at an incredible speed.

"What are they doing?" Loquis asked.

Behind the tenku's furiously flapping wings, the enormous storm cloud burst apart, and from within it, darkness erupted. That thunderous noise crested again, only this time Pit could see the mouth of the thing that made it. Its flesh was like slick shadows made solid, and a bloody radiance limned its fluid form and burned from its eyes and roaring jaws.

It was massive, easily three times the size of their ships, with a face like an elongated ape replete with cruelly curved fangs. Its lean limbs groped outward, swimming through the sky after the fleeing tenku, and the spikes of ingrown horn on its long arms shredded clouds and split the rain with every flail.

"Hold on!" Pit cried.

"Pit! Wait!" Vess screamed, but it was too late.

A Dire Hound leaped through the wind ward and exploded, a crackling magic surging in a cocoon that unleashed the Primordial Storm Tyrant.

Ouranic Dominion!

Four wings and a mastery of the storm sent Pit hurtling through the air at speeds even the ships couldn't match.

Before the monstrous creature could react, Pit slammed talons-first into its gnarled shoulder. It fell back, releasing an outraged and surprised bellow that smote the air. Pit didn't give a shit. He tore into the creature, his talons slicing shadow flesh and releasing a burst of lightning-laced darkness.

"Do not engage!" a fluting voice cried out. "It spawns when hurt!"

The tenku looked back with wide eyes, but it was too late. Things congealed from the liquid shadow of the creature, like fleshy cauls ripped from a writhing brood. Wet and slick-looking beings rose up, hundreds of them, knock-kneed limbs quivering for only a moment before they floated among the stormwinds. Each one was a smaller version of the multi-limbed ape, yet even then they were twisted from true, bearing extra limbs or horns instead of eyes.

Nightmares…

They were lesser creatures, weaker than the gargantuan foe before him, but their numbers were great. The shadowbeast before him bellowed, and the world shuddered with the sound…and the spawn swarmed outward.

Not at him, but at the fleet of Manaships behind him.

Oh, balls.