High Skies

The following is a submission to the Iron Age Media image prompt above (also please see the link below!).

This is a continuing story related to the other High Skies short stories I’ve done: The Ship Soak, and Starstorm.

---

Luminescent, turbulent green poured into the sky from above, filled the upper recesses of the storm, electrified the atmosphere with wonder, and pressured downward onto the magnificent winded torrent that uplifted from its earthen origins. It was an ethereal sea of heaven above, an ocean of chaos and action, a space of never-ending mysteries. The air and the static on the skin affected an almost perverse excitement of expectation and opportunity. Each member of the crew raced to their action, exhilarated by the flowing scene before them. They knew a thing beyond imaging was upon them, on the nervous tips of their fingers and in their lungs, and would bear down on this vessel with a sudden thunderous fury unlike all memory before them. The Scallion rose ever upward to meet the storm’s ferocity.

>>>==<<<

A few days earlier, Lonny looked up with child-like glee from his maps and papers which were piled in disorganized heaps on the table. He was dead certain this was the spot. Captain Llather of the Jastar Mett had provided the final clue to pinpoint where the crux of the electrical energy would be. Two weeks prior, Llather had opened his sail and flew at 7 knots due south-southeast across the Golden Bow Lake as he chased developing cumulus. It brought him in sight of the Arleren mountain range to the west, where he originally saw the cloud formations. The normal path for these clouds was due south, until northernly-moving winds pushed them up into the lake where the storm would develop. This is, in part, contained what Llather reported.

However, he also reported the farmers on the plain below—an unintentional side note as a consequence of talking too much as he flourished the story with detail. He spoke of their activities between the mountains and the lake, and reminded his listeners through his great beard that as a lad he too scythed grain. Llather laughed at how it were early autumn, and the farmers must’ve been too keen on their crop. For the farmers were beginning to harvest too early for grain. Something occurred to Lonny then, something Llather had missed, and the Scallion launched later that evening for the Arleren plain.

The simple farmers watched the weather, day in and out. They saw as it poured on the mountains some years, heavily, and other times blew onto the lake. Those years the crops were adjusted to one side of their fields or the other, as the rain levels adjusted. However, as they stared at the clouds, their usual manner had changed. They knew something more was coming from generations of planting: the plains were going to be flooded, or worse.

Lonny’s captain, Captain Shallous, had planned accordingly. Other crews would be near the lake, especially any local crews from Huntington or back in Threal where they’d run across Captain Llather. A few days of travel brought them to the plains, where they found berth and were able to confirm their suspicions. The lake would see sufficient levels of storms, enough to satisfy those crews, but the worst of the storm would circle back onto the plains. Older cranks among the aggies professed a certainty in there being several cyclones, although nobody dared counter them.

Then they waited for their high skies.

>>>==<<<

The Scallion launched into a proper storm after it formed off the lake, one whose fury and intensity was significantly pronounced compared to the usual thunderheads they sailed into. The wind whipped out of control on all sides, and threatened to wrench Mason’s and Captain Shallous’ methods that thus far prevented a devastating inversion.

“Mason!” Captain Shallous bellowed above the din the rain made against the ship’s metal, “git that fan swivel unlocked, ye ‘ear? John, to the pots now, ‘ere she’s blow’in me aside an’ we need all the storm’s got! Ahssah, what’s the position?”

Lonny stayed to the side with a detailed map, and waited for Asa’s callout of the markers they recorded on the ground. Asa had the sharpest eyes of the lot of them, and when he wasn’t on the shocker—a coil gun Lonny learned was capable of firing destructive levels of electricity—he was trained to keep lookout. A telescopic lens had been installed through the bowls of the ship to point downwards at the ground, which Asa was currently looking through.

“Captain, I see faint red below, starboard, long sh’d far fore,” Asa responded calmly. Lonny had quickly learned in few months he’d been on board that Asa was always resolutely stoic. With his raven hair pulled back and tied, Asa had no outward expression of emotion beyond a placid gaze of sincerity. He always said only what needed to be said and no more, regardless of whether it was the ruckus outside the ship or the Captain, John, and Mason heartily joking at supper. It was then, as Lonny pondered briefly on this, that he caught Captain Shallous staring at him.

If it wasn’t for the deep look of annoyance, the look would be as inscrutable as Asa’s face. There was nothing placid about Shallous, though—it was a whirlpool of thought behind those eyes. It surfaced on occasion, without warning, as they looked over a map or reviewed a scrap of information. Captain Shallous had his mind set on something far beyond being a simple storm captain, and Lonny hoped one day to know what that was exactly.

“Well?” Captain Shallous demanded of Lonny.

“I-I uh...we’re...it looks like…” Lonny started, as he scrambled to find himself and the map he currently held.

“Wit words, boy.”

Lonny attempted to be apologetic. “Sorry, Captain. North heading, towards the lake. We’re getting blown off course.”

“I kin see that. Mason, ye best have take’n the lawk off by now,” Captain Shallous said as he turned his head back to face the bow. He raised his voice again for Mason to hear this time. “Gimme full push, Mason!” The Scallion lurched forward with additional thrust moments later.

Lonny understood what the Captain was doing, but an explanation why escaped him. The ship rocked less in the harsh winds as long as they maintained a steady circle over the plains. Fighting the motion of the great storm as it doubled back towards itself prevented them from getting thrown far outward and away, which could come at never getting back into the clouds or risk the potential of running into another ship. However, there was a safer trajectory available to them in the eye of the storm. They could collect as much of the lightning’s energy there with much less trouble. Yet Captain Shallous kept his distance and hovered the ship around the edges.

Winds outside roared louder, and a lightning strike hit the ship’s mast-turned-lightning rod. There was no lack of charge for the pots they had aboard, as long as John and Emmeret kept up their pace exchanging them. Lonny remained grateful he wasn’t on the lower deck though, since the sound and light of the strike was dampened in the aft cabin. Instead, he reviewed the information he’d collect on the area. Golden Bow Lake—the nearby mountains—expansive farmlands of Arleren—all west of the Estrian country he grew up in. Their traditions were different here, having a stronger focus on agriculture and nature than the commerce-heavy emptiness of Estria.

Lonny had a thought and dug through his pack for one of the older maps contained within. It was one he found among the ruffage at the airport of his hometown, long abandoned and forgotten by a predecessor or airship captain. The land was divided much differently then, and Estria hadn’t appeared yet as such. On the parchment, wrinkled by age, Golden Bow Lake was drawn less crescent-shaped and sparse forest hugged its border with the now Arleren plains—without any printed name, only a scribbled ‘Golden Bow’ by a later hand.

“Captain…” Lonny began as he thought out loud, “...it isn’t Golden Bow...is it, Captain?”

Asa stopped what he was doing to stare at Lonny, even though Shallous gave no indication he’d heard Lonny.

“It isn’t bow at all, it’s bough, as in a branch. They kept saying it wrong this whole time, and it was called something else before. The shape of the lake is more like a tree branch, but there’s more to it.”

Lonny felt the excite rise up further. “Right?...right, Captain?”

Captain Shallous said nothing for a long moment, his focus fully on the thick, insulated glass used to look out on the ship. Then he turned, his eyes filled with the wild of a man possessed.

“How ‘bout ye see yerself!” he cried.

Lonny and Asa raced to the glass and looked outside at the sky as the grey and black clouds swirled into an olive green and rapidly turned more and more brilliant green. The two of them were struck with a wonder so strong even Asa showed it. A force above them was gathered and descending onto the plain within the eye of the storm.

It lasted only a moment, the sensation of spectacular awe. A cannonball tore into the main mast, and splintered it. The Scallion rocked hard under the impact, and caused Shallous to over-correct towards the eye. Lonny and Asa, unsecured, fell to the wood floor and across its surface once the ship slipped out of its orbit. Captain Shallous barked at John, but Lonny couldn’t understand. He felt unable to make sense of his surroundings after the blast.

There was more shouting, and Lonny gathered enough of his senses to realize Asa was pulling him up on his feet. The Scallion still flew, but they were in trouble. A small ship, probably a ketch, hadn’t stayed outside of the storm’s influence as Shallous had predicted. Most of the crews they knew about in the area, both from reasonable assumptions and the reconnaissance John had done prior after their initial arrival, ended on a confirmation of the general practice to catch the outer reaches of the storm. No one in the area had any real intention of braving the middle of storms or getting caught in the cyclones or spouts that tended to arise. The ketch was a rogue boat, a small crew who entered undetected and made for the Scallion to take her down. Perhaps somebody who knew as much as Captain Shallous did.

Captain Shallous continued to pivot the ship in the direction of the storm while he ordered Asa to jump on the shocker. The opposing ketch used physical ammo to hurt rather than the more powerful, although less accurate lightning, which suggested they relied more on their speed to overtake than firepower. Two men might load a cannon and a third steered.

Asa grabbed the interior handles of the shocker, and then connected a thick rubber line to a spot on the floor. Lonny guessed John and Emmeret were beneath them with a pot. Although he’d already seen the shocker fired once, it still amazed Lonny such a device would be equipped to the airships. The handles rotated an outside coil to fire the bolt, and a gear-assisted crank changed its altitude. Four scopes in a circle helped to locate a target, but only generally. When it came to the bolt it fired, too many variables came into play for landing a target. Asa aimed in the direction of the sky their enemy must’ve maneuvered to, and fired.

The whole glass lookout of the cabin lit up from the bright flash, and the thunderclap was loud enough Lonny slapped his hands over his ears. Asa cursed.

“No hit,” he said.

Captain Shallous cursed too. “Damn man, git yer sight further port! They’ll pull us t’ward an’ the eye’ll tear us next. Mason! Haul’er to red an’ give me more steer!” Shallous wrestled the ship’s wheel to turn her in a tighter circle left, even though the ketch fell to the ship’s starboard side. By firing from their right side, Lonny guessed the ketch hoped the Scallion would turn to meet them and risk ramming the torrential winds at the edge of the storm. The longer way around, by circling left, would leave the Scallion vulnerable to a second attack before it could get into position.

Another cannonball slammed into the hull, but the sheets of metal held firm.

“On my mark, Mason, cut the fan or the next’ll blast us out’f the skies!”

The crew worked in tandem. Asa had the shocker pulled to the port side without another command. John already had another two pots ready, their last two available for bolts. Mason and Emmeret made ready for the fan. And Captain Shallous eyed his target.

“Mark!”

No longer being lifted by the fans, the Scallion began to fall towards the flooded earth below. It was a strange feeling for Lonny, who’d never had this happen before. The ship was always in the air, always steady, always reliable. The split-second of weightlessness fumbled him. It didn’t last long though. Mason and Emmeret had already began to get the fans to cycle again. They had gained advantage though.

The third cannonball had missed them entirely, flying over into the void. Asa was ready this time. Their bolt arced into the air and shattered the ketch. Its burning heap was hot enough to prevent the rain from putting it out. The green sky lit up with flame until the sight disappeared beneath the Scallion.

The lightning never left the sky. It gathered together in some places and spread out into tendrils in others. Balls of lightning of rained down all around the ship, and to Lonny it seems like they had drifted into the stars themselves. They flew up higher and higher now, deep into the eye, cascading radiance all around, and the earth fully disappeared below. The Scallion transported them into a new world unlike their own, as the waves of clouds and the shimmer of ball lightning made everything else fall away as a dream.

In the middle of that dream came the thunderbird. Out of the lookout glass, ahead of them, it too flew with magnificent majesty. Its body was fully lightning as it came from somewhere beyond to dive through the emerald clouds. Its energy strengthened the storm, created it by breaking through the firmament. Lonny knew this was what Captain Shallous was after. This was what he refused to speak of, yet sought with all his energy. The thunderbird itself, only barely more than a myth, before them now. He wanted more than just lightning or electrical power, and he wouldn’t be stopped by its terrible power on display in front of them.

Its wings were spread out longer than their ship, it’s body titanic in size. The living lightning streaked behind it in a sharp tail, a plume of dangerous proportion as the creature bobbed into and out of the clouds. Its head had no discernible shape besides an almost blinding-bright spot Lonny assumed was a face. The whole of the thunderbird was hot white from energy. Thick plasma sprouted constantly from every tip of its hazy form, and flailed like children’s parade streamers in all directions. From the excitement of the moment, Lonny began to become scared for their safety.

Shallous tried to press onwards, and chased the thunderbird with the damaged Scallion. His expression was no longer crazed and instead held at fiercely determined. The thunderbird danced effortlessly in the storm, and Shallous barreled towards it. There was no catching the thunderbird though. An invisible force pushed them away whenever its form slowed, set them off course around its bubble. In time, the thunderbird slipped away above them and the light died away. There was no more wonder, and only the dead cold of the highest skies remained until they touched earth again.

Lonny remembered how it felt to fly so high and so free with the thunderbird. They’d gotten ever closer to touching a thing straight from heaven that the crushing weight of normal wind, earth, and water felt more make-believe than real. He needed to return to their high skies. He saw it in Asa’s eyes, and Captain Shallous’ eyes. All of them now shared a feeling of sickening depression only helped by flying again. The Scallion would be repaired, and he—Lonny—would figure out another place to explore. This was the beginning.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider subscribing and taking a look at the other pieces I’ve completed!