Asunder: Beyond The Sky
Chapter 1
The soft sound of rain on plate metal awoke Rufus from his sleep. With a groan, he sat up, pulled himself out of bed and wandered over to the window, taking a peek out from behind the curtains.
Darkness... but a hint of sunlight on the horizon.
Time to get up.
He set about pulling on his clothes - a sturdy pair of trousers, a pair of well broken-in boots, a fresh work shirt and a long, heavy, tan brown leather trench coat. Heading to the door of his room, he also picked up a long scarf, wrapping it round his neck, and grabbed the large, heavy-bladed Gladius Gun he kept on his person from next to his door. Slinging its harness over his shoulders, he exited the room. The heavy metal door clanked shut behind him, the sound echoing down the empty corridors that lay ahead. He let out a heavy sigh and began to walk, his footsteps making a steady click of metal against metal as the toes of his boots met the floor grating.
It hadn't always been like this. Only about a month ago this place had been filled with life - his crew; nay, his friends, were still here back then. It wasn't too long ago that at this time of day he would have gotten himself out of bed, got dressed and then gone to rouse the rest of his crew to get the airship moving on towards their next destination... but now the only sounds breaking the silence were the creaks and groans of the ship's hull, and of the cables outside attached to the anchor balloons.
He headed into the galley, shaking his head, and set about getting himself some sustenance. Thankfully with where the galley was positioned, the food hadn't been lost in the storm - alas, those that would normally partake of it also were long gone. As he began to eat, his mind wandered, straying far from his current whereabouts to times long since past...
Sixteen years prior, Rufus had been only ten years old - and awed by the ship his father had finally finished building, with the assistance of several other skilled men. Back then, the Republic of Silverhead was still very much a republic, although it was nevertheless slowly becoming integrated with the rest of the Atlan world. Rufus, like his father, was a red kite. Many of his home town's occupants were avian as well, of varying species.
That day had marked the completion of the Republic of Silverhead Airship, Spirit of Adventure. It was a fine vessel to behold, and its metallic hull gleamed in the sun, its designation and name etched along the side of the hull in lettering that stood out proudly.
"Can we go in and take a look, dad?" he'd asked.
"Aye, son." and a smile had crossed his face. "In fact laddie, how's about we go start her up? Ye can have the privilege of gettin' her running for her maiden flight."
He'd been overjoyed at that, and the two of them had headed inside the freshly painted ship, to its flight deck. Everything was new, shiny and polished.
"She's all ready to go lad. Go ahead."
At that, Rufus had been the one to throw the switches and then press the big black button on the controls before him. There'd been a hissing of steam, and then the muffled clanking of the huge pistons in the engine room starting to move. The massive rotors overhead had started to slowly spin, soon building up to a steady pace, with a dull THWUP THWUP THWUP as they sliced through the air.
"She's alive!" he'd yelled happily.
"Aye lad, that she is. Nicely done!"
The words echoed in his mind now, as he stood before the ship's wheel. The glass windscreen was mostly missing, what pieces were left in the frame were cracked and stressed. The carpet still smelled of salty water, and was probably starting to get a little rotten. A number of the instrument dials had water in them as well, and some bits of flooring had been torn up. All in all, it was a far cry from the former glory it had held just over one and a half decades back. Getting in and out of here was now a risky business too, thanks to the large hole present in the adjoining slanted corridor from the flight deck to the main body of the ship. He glanced up toward the main body of the ship itself, noting areas on it where the outer plating had been stripped away when the storm had hit. He shook his head slowly. Regardless of how unfit to fly she currently was, the Spirit of Adventurestill had to move. Rufus was unsure of his current location, but one thing he was certain of was that he was currently still several miles from help - in every direction the great cloud sea stretched for miles, into the horizon. Not a single speck visible either. No ships, no planes, not a sign of civilisation as he knew it. Not even any sign of a salt redwood, the great giants of trees that stretched their mighty branches up from the depths and to the skies above. No-one had ever seen the roots of these trees; all that every native of the world of Atlas knew of them was that they grew up toward the sky from somewhere deep within the cloud sea. No-one in living memory had ever ventured down into those depths, for it was well known that doing so was a dead man's journey: no-one who had ever attempted to venture into those deep and dark roiling depths of cloud had ever returned to tell the tale. Either the turbulent nature of the seas had proven too much for their ships to bear, or the vicious denizens of the deep had claimed them.
That or, as Rufus now mused to himself as he climbed back up the corridor, they had simply died out in the open seas, if they had managed to escape from the deep. For he now found himself in this situation also - one who had fallen into the vicious depths of the great cloud sea, but had returned alive to tell the tale. Although with that said, he wouldn't be telling any tales from where he currently sat. There was no-one else around to hear. The only audience he held was the ship's log, which already ran into the hundreds of days that they had been at sea. As he headed into the engine room of the ship to get the fire going, his memory again wandered to more recent times.
Four years previous, Rufus had become a man in his own right. The Spirit of Adventure had been given him by his father, as he now considered himself too old to venture out into the open skies himself. Rufus hadn't blamed him: his father was now a man of many years, weather beaten and old, yet still warm and friendly and with the kind of toughness to him that only several years' hard work and travel of the skies could bring. Although he had shed no tears, Rufus had seen the brief glimpse of sadness in his father's eyes as he had spoken of the end of his days of travel one evening, as they'd been stood on his ship's flight deck.
"Rufus my lad... I can't keep gallivanting as I have these past several years. Much as I still have the soul of a man of the skies, I can't keep denying that nature has moved on..."
"Come now dad, you're not thatold."
"I'm not lad, but part of being a man is having wisdom. Ye have to be smart enough to know your own limits. I know mine, ma lad. I'll be three score and nine years old this spring, and it's becoming all the more clear that I'm not the man I was."
"Dad..."
"And that's why, son, I want to give you this." He had then stood to the side, indicating that Rufus take the wheel of the ship. Rufus had done so, hesitantly at first.
"You're giving the Spirit to me, dad?"
His father nodded.
"Aye. She's a fine vessel Rufus, maybe even the best Silverhead's ever seen. So see that you look after her well."
"Dad, are you sure...?"
"Sure as I've ever been about anything, son. Now c'mon... we're nearly in Tellàrain. Bring her in..."
The fire was lit, the boiler now producing plenty of steam. Rufus headed back down to the flight deck and, after adjusting a few controls, hit the big black button. The rotors started to whirr into life. Now was the difficult part - deflating and retracting the flotation anchors without the help of a crew. He raced back up the corridor, and up to the ship's upper deck, bracing himself against the wind and rain. The wind... that at least was a good thing. Considering that the forward thruster propellers had been horribly damaged, he was primarily at the mercy of the wind currents to push the ship toward civilisation. With a grunt of effort he began the lengthy process of winching in the anchors, something which was a painfully slow process since the mechanism that would normally perform this task for him had been damaged some time ago. Nevertheless, he worked steadily upon his task, gradually letting some of the gas out of the balloons and back into the supply tanks. Nearly two hours later the balloons were all winched in and stowed in their compartments. He shook his head with a grunt, shaking the water off of himself. With a full crew, this shouldn't have taken more than maybe quarter of an hour. He stretched a bit, his muscles complaining a bit about the task he'd just subjected them to, and then made for his room. The rudders were already set to direct the ship toward the general direction of Diadem City - hopefully it would not take more than a few weeks to reach it.
Some minutes later he now sat in his room, pulling from a drawer in his desk the Ship's Log - or more accurately, the Dhiàrnan Expedition Log. He opened the thick log book at the most recent empty page, took up a pen and, after a few moments' consideration, began to write.
Captain's Log, Dhiàrnan Expedition, Day 736.
It has now been 26 days since the storm which ripped away much of the Spirit's fixtures, along with her crew. No ships have passed by, and I lack the means to properly repair my own.
Progress toward civilisation has been painfully slow. I am reliant solely on the mercy of the winds, plus a little propulsion from what remains of the surviving rotors to drive us in any one direction. I estimate that in approximately thirty days or thereabouts, I should once again be in Diadem - or at least close enough to it that some kind soul should spot the Spirit and come to look for survivors.
I can only hope and pray that fortune should be kind enough to smile upon me these coming weeks, for if not I shall likely perish and these past 2 years shall have been for naught - yet if the worst should happen, then let it be known what has been captured in these pages. It is of vital importance this log be returned to its providers, that they may be enlightened as to the nature of this world of ours.
Chapter 2
It was a bright and sunny day in the city of Zeal those two years ago. The warm air blew gently through the city, turning wind vanes and pushing small windmills here and there, and rustling the leaves of assorted small plants and saplings. Much like its counterparts, Zeal was a city built upon an enormous, specialised airship, known as a city carrier - for somewhat obvious reasons of course. At least six others of these were known to exist in the world. One could truly call himself adventurous if he had seen them all, for many hundreds of miles of open sea lay between them. Less obvious to a casual observer was the fact that Zeal was a city also referred to as the City of Knowledge, primarily thanks to its abundance of research and exploration organisations, and the many technological innovations that had been born from there.
Nevertheless, that was the aim of Rufus Falcon. His father's tales of sailing the seas and seeing all six cities himself, not to mention the countless other amazing and terrifying things he'd seen in his day were somewhat compelling. Since Rufus had become old enough to learn to fly an airship himself he'd wanted to get out into the world and see it for himself. Now that he'd had time to accumulate some savings to help him get around, and had an airship to take him, the world was his oyster so to speak. Or at least that was what he'd believed in the beginning, but reality had been a tad more harsh - travelling the world was a costly business, and he found himself in need of work to keep things going. Not to mention there was also the fact that, as much as he would have liked to try, he couldn't run the ship on his own. He'd already recruited similarly minded individuals to that of himself from other places: adventurers and dreamers who nonetheless had experience of sailing. However, the ship still lacked a full crew, and so it was that as they'd made a stop in the City of Knowledge he looked to recruit more adventurers.
As he headed into the offices of the Pathos Geographers' Association that fateful day, he held the belief that perhaps his luck may change soon. He wasn't wrong either.
"Hail, friend!" spoke a rather old looking human man from behind a sturdy-looking desk. "What brings you to our humble abode of knowledge?" he added with a kindly smile. In reply, Rufus held up a poster he'd snagged that he'd found plastered to the side of a building outside.
"This." he stated plainly. "You're looking for people to scour the world for you, right?"
The older man's eyes gleamed as he looked from the poster to Rufus and back again. "Why yes, we are indeed. Our plan, young lad, is to successfully map out this entire world of Atlas of ours. It's an arduous task, you know. The six great cities don't have a fixed location after all, so it's more a case of having to map out their routes. And as for the smaller towns and settlements... well, it's practically a nightmare."
Rufus nodded. "But I take it, sir, that you still need help with all this?"
"Oh yes, absolutely! We need bold men and women to go out there and take an active interest in this world of ours, and how it is laid out. You know," and with this the older man leaned forward in his seat a bit, "one of the things we really want to get is an accurate record of all the salt redwood forests - where they grow, their location in respect of our cities, all that kind of thing. It's a little dangerous though. I'm sure you've heard of the kind of things that make their home in those places."
Again, Rufus nodded as he replied. "Aye, giant fish, huge tentacled monsters, all sorts of beasties. My dad told me all about them."
The older man chuckled. "Ah, so your father was the adventuresome sort as well, was he? I doubt you're the kind who'll be easily dissuaded then. That's good, we can make good use of that sort of attitude. So tell me young man," he asked as he got to his feet, "what do you call yourself, and where're you from?"
"My name is Rufus Falcon, sir." Rufus answered. "I was born in the Republic of Silverhead, in the town of Tellàrain."
"My my, you're a fair way from home then indeed. So tell me, Rufus of Tellàrain, how did you end up here in the City of Knowledge?" The old man's eyes twinkled as he asked this question. He seemed to be the kind who enjoyed a good story. Rufus smiled, slightly apologetically.
"Well to be honest, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Sorry if it's a disappointment, but I don't really have any fantastic tales to tell."
"Ha-ha, not yet you don't young lad, but I dare say you will in due course." the older man smiled. "Alright then, let me ask you a different question. Have you a ship of your own?"
At this, Rufus had puffed his chest out just a little with pride as he proceeded to tell the man that he did indeed have his own ship, and not only that but it was one of the finest ever built in his home town. The older man smiled once more.
"A Silverhead airship, eh? Well well, can't really ask for better than that, short of military grade aircraft. Very well lad, we'd be happy to take you on. It just so happens that we've been putting together a crew of individuals to undertake our latest expedition. If you'll be willing to take them along, I'm sure they'll be willing to help you run your ship. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like a rather fine deal to me." Rufus answered honestly. "Are they all sea-worthy individuals? After all, cargo hauler as she may be on occasion, the Spirit is no pleasure cruiser."
The older man nodded. "Aye Rufus, no worries there. Oh, beg pardon, I've not even introduced myself." He extended a hand toward Rufus with a friendly smile. "James Archimedes, Chief Geographer of this fine Association." Rufus took the man's hand and shook it firmly. Now that he'd stood up, Rufus could tell a bit more about the man. He had the same sort of toughened and weather-beaten look as Rufus's father, but had more obvious signs of age. What hair he had left had turned white, and his face had many a wrinkle. Nevertheless, the man's eyes were bright and alert like those of a young man as he regarded the young red kite before him.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Archimedes." Rufus smiled. "So, are these people of whom you speak here currently?"
"They are as it so happens." James replied, and he headed to a large door to the side of his desk. "Come along Rufus, I'll introduce you to them."
The young kite nodded, following James through the door. "I should let you know now, I do actually already have a crew aboard my ship. Although with that said, we're by no means operating at capacity..."
"Well good!" James replied heartily. "The more the merrier, as they say. Besides, our crew isn't especially large. It'd be better to call them a team, really. About four of them."
"Aha? That'd be quite handy then. Four's the number I have aboard already, not including myself." Rufus had replied cheerily. "That'll certainly help matters if they're all ready and willing to sail the world with me."
"We'll see, lad, we'll see." James replied. They had headed down a set of stairs, and now walked into a large hall. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and there were more shelves lined up across half of the hall as well. In the middle of all this was a huge table, with an enormous sheet of paper spread across it. It took Rufus very little time at all to figure out that this was a chart of the world - and that it looked to be, for now, somewhat empty save for the locations of several well-known places. The clearing of James's throat alerted those gathered round the table to his presence.
"If I might have your attention for a moment, my fellow scholars," he began, "I've a young man here with a ship who'd like to take us up on our next venture." This was met with assorted murmurings from around the table. As this was going on, Rufus took a few moments to look around at the other people gathered. A few more humans, a well-groomed wolf, a smartly-dressed eagle, a sprightly-looking squirrel... and then his gaze stopped on the last person he clapped eyes on.
She was a black kite, her golden eyes keen and her gaze sharp, her plumage a deep jet black. She seemed to be a bit more well-off than most of the rest of those gathered there, going by her clothes. She had a bit of a haughty seeming demeanour as well. However, Rufus also noted that in spite of her appearance, she had hanging at her hip what had to be a folded boomerang blade. He'd seen those before of course, but he found it a bit strange that someone who looked like she probably spent most of her time being pampered had one.
Still, she was undeniably quite pretty. He couldn't help staring at her for a few more moments, before he realised James was looking at him quizzically.
"Ahem. Sir? You were going to introduce yourself, yes?"
Rufus blinked. "Right! Yes, sorry. I was miles away for a moment there." he said, mentally slapping himself. Way to make a great first impression, you idiot!
"I am Rufus Falcon of Tellàrain, captain of the RSA Spirit of Adventure, currently docked here in Zeal. I'm a man who seeks to sail across the entire world of Atlas, so that I can see it for myself. Seeing as my goals and those of this Association happen to coincide, I decided to pay a visit and see about taking you up on your request for assistance."
The assorted geographers murmured among themselves, before one of them spoke up. "Colour me interested then, sir." it was the squirrel, whom Rufus now noted was female. She had deep red fur and a charming smile, and her voice was as energetic as she looked. "I've been wanting to set out ever since this venture was planned. I'll be happy to go if my team-mates are." She glanced round at the others present, some of whom Rufus assumed must be those who would be accompanying him.
"RSA, you said? As in, Silverhead?" the slightly gruff sounding voice belonged to the tall grey wolf he'd noted before. Rufus nodded to him in answer. The wolf grinned at that. "Well then, I've no complaints. They're gorgeous vessels, and pretty damned sturdy as I recall."
The eagle spoke up next, his voice quite quiet. He had golden coloured plumage and the look of a studious individual. "Pardon me if I sound uncouth or unappreciative, sir, but I must inquire nonetheless for my own peace of mind."
Rufus tilted his head at the man, but nodded. "Don't worry too much about it. What's your question?"
The eagle pushed the glasses he was wearing back up his beak a bit. "I assume that you already have at least some individuals aboard your vessel, serving in the capacity of crewmen... permit me to inquire, are they honest and hard-working or...?"
Rufus blinked, confused for a moment, before he caught the gist of what the eagle was getting at.
"Are they slaves, do you mean? No, I assure you every man and woman aboard my ship is a free individual. The only slaves you'd ever find on my ship are someone else's, when they're loading or unloading cargo. We undertake some freight work every now and again, the Spirit's well equipped for the task. But no, no slaves. Even if they've done something to deserve being in that position."
The eagle nodded, a small smile forming on his features. It was a well-known fact, after all, that the Atlan militia, better known as the Red Wings, would often sentence those found guilty of piracy to several years of hard labour as slaves. The Red Wings themselves were the world's peacekeeping agents of sorts - funded in part by taxation collected by the ruling noble Houses of the great cities, their role revolved around keeping the skies safe for everyone. That essentially boiled down to making sure the Houses didn't fight with each other too much, and more immediately hunting down and capturing those involved in illegal activity. The system worked fairly well, more or less.
"Well then," concluded James, "that leaves only one person who hasn't voiced an opinion." His gaze fell on the black kite stood to the side. "What say you, Miss Otra?"
The girl's head turned, her gaze fixing itself on Rufus. It made him feel slightly uncomfortable. "Well," she started, her voice cutting through the air with the same sharpness Rufus imagined her weapon must have, "I will admit that I have my reservations." Her tone on that word was somewhat icy. "But with that said, I am nonetheless clearly out-voted. And besides, we do not know when we shall next encounter someone willing to indulge us on such a bold venture. Thus... I'm in also."
He couldn't be certain, but Rufus thought he heard a quiet collective sigh of relief from those present.
"Good!" smiled James. "Well then, Captain Falcon and I shall go and work out the details. Those of you embarking on this venture should see to preparing. I imagine you will want to leave as soon as you can." He glanced at Rufus. "And I imagine you will want to be moving on soon yourself, yes?"
Rufus nodded in reply. "Aye. We've been aboard Zeal a few days now. We were planning to head to Diadem next." He followed James as the man headed back up the stairs. "They seem like a fairly cheerful bunch. Well, 'cept for prissy-boots. What bit her?"
James laughed, once they were back up at his desk. "Amberley, you mean? That's just how she is. I don't think she was too happy with you eyeing her up."
Rufus found himself glad of his red plumage when he heard that. "Eh? Uhm, well..." he said, flustered, before laughing. "I guess it was a bit obvious, wasn't it? She is pretty after all. But she's got a hell of an attitude."
"Yes well, she's also got a fair bit of money too." James grinned conspiratorially. "For whatever reason, she takes great interest in learning more about the world - and it so happens her dad's got quite a bit of money to spend on his favourite-not to mention only-daughter."
"Aha. So she's at least partially responsible for funding then." Rufus grinned. "Makes sense. So I take it those four will be accompanying my crew and I on our voyage of discovery, so to speak?"
"More or less. There're some papers to sort out and get signed. Standard stuff, merely stipulating what's required of you and what's required of them. I imagine you've done this kind of thing a few times before, seeing as you already have a crew."
"Mmm." Rufus nodded again, and soon after found himself working through some paperwork with James. The man was quite amicable, and rather entertaining. Rufus got the impression that, like his dad, if James were any less elderly he'd be jumping on the ship himself.
He let out a small sigh as he finished reading the log entry: Day 1 of the Dhiàrnan Expedition.
...and so it is that we now find ourselves shouldered with the none too small burden of helping to create a map of our world. But more than that, perhaps we shall be the ones to finally discover Dhiàrnan, or Atlasaria as it is more commonly known. This is our hope-nay, the purpose of our journey, that what we learn of our world as it is now will lead us to discover that which still eludes us and which many have dismissed as legend.
My crew and I hold high hopes. Truly, today marks the beginning of our greatest adventure.
