Maledictus Aether (18 page)

For a while I peruse the shelves lining the main room of my
quarters, my finger running along the spines of various tomes; from
engineering to clockwork manuals and even to classical literature,
my eyes finally settling on
The Odyssey
and
pulling it from the shelf, mindlessly turning the pages as I hold
the tome in one hand, without much interest. I walk around as I do
so, sitting down on the couch and lifting my bare feet up to the
soft fabric beside me, so I can lean against the armrest
comfortably and lean the spine of the novel against my thighs,
freeing a hand that supports my head.

Orin claws on over to my side
as I mindlessly turn the pages, clambering onto my calf and
settling himself comfortably there. I pet him idly, frowning, and
not even three pages in I decide to go over to the mess and get
something to eat – and possibly to drink, too. Preferably
coffee.

Leaving the book where I sat, I
place my faithful companion onto my shoulder and quietly make my
way out into the hallway of the first deck. The mess has two
floors, stretching along the first and second deck along the port
side, and I find the door easily enough, halfway along the belly of
the ship, and slip inside.

All the sailors have gone on
land to rest and celebrate, to meet with family and friends again
before we leave to search for Tier – leaving me free to walk down
the staircase leading to the second floor of the mess hall, and
through a door to the kitchen itself, where I hunt for something to
make.

Once I make the preparations for two mugs of steaming
coffee and leave the liquid to brew a bit, I conjure up the
semblance of a meal – finding some
bread that is not going to sit too heavily in the stomach,
some vegetables I boil up to soften, and place the whole on a tray
I find, both mugs steaming with the aroma of coffee as I hoist the
whole up and carefully walk back with it to my quarters. I had
found covers for the plates, so when I set the tray down on the
coffee table between the couches, I leave them be and take a mug
from the tray, sitting back where I once was.

Sipping it, Orin leaves my
shoulders as I pick the book back up and settle once more the way I
was earlier, smiling to myself. It's not necessarily the kind of
novel I can get immersed into, but the point in picking it up in
the first place is just to have something to occupy my mind. It
works, to varying degrees of success.

I get perhaps halfway through
book one when I feel the headrest behind me shift, arms draping
over it either side of me and someone's chin just barely pressed
against my right shoulder. Instead of looking up, I simply turn the
page.

“You must have been quite an
interesting person to take care of in the hospital after your
surgeries,” I hear Lucian comment idly, and I pause with my eyes
halfway down the page, arching an eyebrow.

“As a matter of fact,” I start,
turning my head enough to catch his clear blue-eyed gaze and offer
him a half-smirk, “I drove the nurses crazy with how often I tried
to get out of bed even though I had not yet recovered enough to
walk.”

The man laughs, shaking his
head as he pushes himself straight again so he can walk around the
back of the couch.

“Why does that not surprise
me?” he muses, throwing himself down beside me and draping his
elbows over the back of the couch. I close the book in my lap,
stretching so I can set it down on the table in front of us, and
take the mug I brought up for him and give it to him. With a
thankful smile he takes the offered drink, sipping it a moment
before he speaks. “How are you feeling, Kennedy?”

Shrugging a shoulder, I sit
forward enough to grab my plate and fork, sitting back the way I
was afterwards and poking at the meal a moment before I answer.

“The poison i
s still
in my veins,” I comment idly, taking a bite of my meal. He sighs to
my right, and after I swallow I continue, “and that will never
change; at the very least, there should be no more to enter my
bloodstream, and for that I
do
feel better. To be
honest, I feel a lot better – that machine was probably a week or
two away from stopping altogether.”

Nodding, he follows my lead and
takes the plate that remains on the table still, sitting back and
looking at me a moment.

“This is something you will
have to change frequently, isn't it?”

“Not
frequently
, no,” I
counter, shrugging a shoulder. The warm meal settles pleasantly in
my stomach, and I smile despite myself. “To be honest, perhaps once
every five or six years – at which point I can keep improving the
design to make it more efficient. For now, though, I have managed
to make a mechanical heart that will have an increasing heart rate
depending on the body's reaction, which is quite a feat all things
considered.”

He nods, digging into the meal
not too long after my statement.

“Thank you, Lucian,” I say
after a while, I having finished my meal and he almost finished at
this point. The darker-haired man looks at me curiously, and I
avert my gaze, setting the plate on the table again and sitting
back, scratching the bandages wrapped around my middle idly. “It
must not have been an easy thing to do – I know how much I had
asked of you.”

“Hey, while I may be your
Quarter Master, I am also your friend; I would've never been able
to let myself rest if I had not done all I could to help you.”

Looking at him, I blink
owlishly.

So that i
s what that
means... huh.

I honestly never thought I woul
d get to experience it for myself; I am glad to know
that I was wrong, then. With that thought in mind I smile, leaning
back and looking to the ceiling, hands behind my head and a
contented sigh leaving my lips. The beating of my heart echoes
throughout my body, a steady drum beating perfectly.

“Thank you,” I sigh, closing my eyes and leaning my head
more against the headre
st. I
hear him shift, but I do not look. “The day you need my assistance,
or simply require or desire something, I will be at your service
without fail.”

Lucian nods a slight, almost
imperceptible nod, refusing to look me in the eye, so I close my
eyes and keep my face angled towards the ceiling, enjoying the
relaxation that washes over my body. For once in quite some time, I
feel worn out to the cord – completely spent, at the end of my
rope.

He leaves after a while, bringing the tray with
him, and idly stating how there is
something he would like to get in town. I wave his explanation away
idly, calling a farewell at him while I pull myself back to my
feet, stretching my arms over my head until my back cracks
pleasantly. Once I am standing, I fetch my father's journal from
the drawer in my desk and sit back down on the couch,
re-familiarizing myself with his words about Tier.

I was but a lad when we had to leave Tier behind; I can
remember this so vividly. The massive length as it soared
throughout the skies – the size pales in comparison to any ship
currently in the skies – and the engines on that brute were simply
astounding! They were themselves about the size of one of the
Fleet's ships, and there were at least six of them, working
on
the element of flight;
something that I have not been able to recreate successfully. The
design plans themselves are extremely complex, and I can barely
understand them myself.

Of course, that was only one of the many things that made
the
Alitis Gladio
so revered. All of its resources,
it's design... the ship should have never been able to lift from
the land with its size.

The latest bit of information I
have been able to gather about the ship is that there are two
possibilities: one of which is that the ship crashed to the earth,
possibly at a remote location or even in the sea herself – I do
hope the latter isn't true, or she is lost to us forever – and the
second guess is that she caught a head wind and is riding it,
possibly at thirty or forty or even fifty thousand feet.

I am not inclined to believe
this second hypothesis, on the notion that a ship of that size
would have been seen by someone by now – it is not easy to miss,
especially to those of us who have been weaned on stories of her
exploits and her conquers.

After much thought and once a
thorough study of a map of the known world has been made, I've
deduced that, considering the flight path the day we left her
behind, Tier is most likely within Terra Australis.

Once I return from London after Isaac is born, I will hunt
the ship down and bring glory back to the
Sky Pirate name.

Lucian helps me carry one of
the crates through the docks of Aeon, four more of my crew bringing
two other boxes. The sight of our passing makes a lot of curious
pirates pause, either docking their ship or preparing to cast off;
the sun high in the sky, we come to a stop just shy of the docks
themselves, my companion and I carefully lowering the first crate.
Once the crew lowers theirs where I ask them to, I wipe the sweat
from my brow and grin at my Quarter Master while the chilly wind
dances around us. A fifth member of my crew hands me a crowbar,
none of them aware of what lies within the crates, and the other
men and women dutifully serving me have followed, crowding around
with the curious pirates and locals.

“How many of you are familiar with the legend of Cephas'
hidden treasure?” I shout over the curious whispering, casting my
eyes across the crowd. Their whispers die down, leaving the wind to
break the silence with its quiet howl and the hiss of steam-powered
engines, and the
Aether sails
snapping in the wind. Sometimes, the sound of chains and metal
slipping against one-another accompanies the symphony, and as the
moments pass more and more people crowd around, curious. “Stupid
question, I know; well, have I got a surprise for you.”

Shoving the end of the crowbar into the lid of the crate, I
heave against the resistance of the wood until it springs free and
the
contents catch the light.
There is a collective inhale, from everyone save for Lucian and I,
and I can see a man I'm familiar with shoving his way through the
crowd.

I continue just as Captain
Davis reaches the front of the crowd.

“My father left all of it to me, and told me to do with it
as I may,” I inform them, looking from the shining gold and silver
pieces to the faces of over a hundred speechless faces. “So, after
some thought, I decided to give to the people who have so readily
aided me and helped make this discovery a reality. Consider
this a gift from my father as well –
all three crates – and do with this what you will.”

I move on to the next two and
wrench them open as well, giving the crowbar back to one of my crew
and looking to Lucian, who's looking to the people still standing
motionless around us. Our eyes meet and for a second we share a
grin, before I step back and spread out my arms, stepping closer to
my friend.

“Well? Help yourselves, my
friends, but please try to make it go around if possible. I was
only able to bring next to nothing with me, as I was not properly
equipped to haul back so much,” I shrug a shoulder, my hands
falling to my hips as they thaw, crowding closer to the crates as
if they need to be closer to see if this is well and truly
real.

My companion and I extract
ourselves from the crowd, and when we pull free Captain Davis finds
us, clapping a strong hand on my shoulder and making me stumble
forward. He's laughing a loud, stunned laugh, and both Lucian and I
echo it as I right myself and roll my shoulder to try and alleviate
the sting.

“You really are your father's
son!” he bellows, and I scratch the back of my neck idly,
shrugging. “What made you decide to do this?”

Looking over my shoulder to the
men and women distributing the loot evenly amongst those who are
present and others running into the city to gather as many as
possible, I smile warmly at the sight of these pirates – these
people, who most believe are greedy, heartless murderers – showing
such kindness and compassion, sharing equally amongst everyone.

“Well, I just wanted to give
back to the people who have given me so much,” I tell him, looking
back to the larger man and smiling. “Without this city, I would not
be in the skies – I would not have met the people I have, have not
had the experiences I have lived, nor would I have found all of
that. Honestly, it was the very least I could do.”

He nods, accepting that, and
his attention diverts to another thing of interest. Eyebrows
furrowing, he gestures to what hangs from my hip, and I look to my
father's blade idly, grin stretching across my lips soon
afterwards.

“Is that...?”

Looking up at the man with my
grin still plastered on my face, I can see the shock and awe
written plainly on his features. His lips part in a silent gasp,
and I trade glances with Lucian, his grin mirroring mine.

“I thought... I thought the Fleet took it when they
captured him!” he shouts, capturing the attention of a few pirates
nearby. Some get closer, curious the way we all are – you
have
to be when you decide to
be a Sky Pirate; otherwise, you wouldn't be here in the first
place.

Unsheathing
Zenith
from its
scabbard, I hold the grip firmly in my hand and angle it so he can
clearly see the blade, the sunlight catching the silver and making
it shine beautifully.