Snippet #1714520

Day set: Launch
Time set: PM
Location set: S.S.Leviathon

As the sun finally began to sink below the horizon – the last vestiges of summer sunlight chased away – orange fire gleamed across the hull of the Leviathon as the Ritualists finished sealing the windows with a glitter of alchemial magic. Inside the ship, the very walls seemed to shudder with the force of power building; those situated closer to the rear would, if they placed their ears against the cool metal, be able to hear a faint rumble emanating throughout the vessel.

In the organised chaos of the propulsion deck, Alchemists wrapped in Erythoril suits like golden knights carefully fed more acid into their respective chambers, flinching away from the flare of power that sought to escape through the funnel – each remembering that any mistake could be fatal. Sealing the jets with seconds to spare, the accompanying Ritualists took up their watches: standing guard over the volatile energy with a featureless calm that somehow managed to only make the tension more palpable.

Criers scuttled across the decks, their duty of warning the passengers made superfluous, seeking the safety of the nearest chamber as the floor beneath them began to shake. In the Academy, circled mages began chanting steadily, the ritual symbols before them glowing softly with a cool blue light that seemed to sooth the tremors almost completely for a moment. Within seconds however, it was clear that the force was building swiftly, and sweat began to bead upon the wrinkled brows of the Ritualists as they struggled to maintain the balance of the craft beneath them at a gentle shudder.

Outside, the most sensible fled for the protection of the buildings, leaving the few brave or younger citizens to clap their hands over their ears as a colossal roar ripped through the cooling air. Birds that had just settled to roost – or those still skimming over the lake for grubs – fled squalling in a flurry of feathers and droppings, and behind the Leviathon, waves the size of adult Morgar lapped across the still water propelled by a shimmering wall of otherwise invisible heat. The world seemed to hold its breath for an instant and then, with a crack like the earth itself was splitting, the great Star-Ship exploded fire from jets below and behind, launching itself into the sky with a gathering momentum that seemed terrifying.

Aboard the Leviathon, windows pulsed with a flare of energy, the heat igniting a chemical in the ritual glass that made it shimmer like liquid, instantly adding an additional cooling layer to the craft. Breaking away from their chant, Academy Ritualists breathed a collective sigh of relief as Alchemists stepped forward, tracing the glowing pattern with powers and oils and embedding it into the exposed metal. Their first task complete, the mages fled swiftly out of the room to check the rest of the ship as servants began to filter past to lay back the floorboards and carpet carefully over the glittering runes.

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Day set: Launch
Time set: PM
Location set: Observation Deck

Half breathless with fear and excitement, Sol sprinted the last few feet, skidding past the startled Ritualists to stop dead centre in the room. Though you couldn’t really call it a room, could you. A semi-opaque dome sparkled overhead like fireflies caught in snow, so beautiful that even the blunt Sky-fighter was lost for words. But it wasn’t just that. Despite the fact that several guards were making their way towards her, Sol just couldn’t stop staring. Time seemed to slow as the opaque nature of the window began to fade as though the snow was melting, leaving the fireflies to glitter on their own against a backdrop that was just as magnificent. White faded to red and orange, then blue, and suddenly the sky was black – so black that it seemed to drink your soul – until with a final flare, the last layer fell away and the heavens opened up around them.

Feeling a strong grip rest on her arm, Sol turned to the guard who had hold of her and grinned. “Look!” she breathed, face as alight and innocent as a child’s, “Look at the stars!” Returning her turquoise gaze to the sky, she hardly felt the man let go of her arm, turning to stare at the view companionably beside her.

Beyond the shimmering windows of the S.S. Leviathon, stars winked and glittered in white and blue, dotting the heavens like mythical faeries. Gradually, the jets harsh fires died, giving way to raw unseen power and the ship turned, pointing itself towards one of the distant spheres that served as a moon: Ortel. Like a sinister twin, Isiah glimmered with red embers, another unknown that served a reminder of the trials to come.