Arend in the Sky

Finished another story today. More Pinede stuff, so you’ll see it on the site when that eventually comes about, but I think it turned out nicely enough. Here’s a good chunk of it that I’m very pleased with.

Things grew brighter then. A monolith in Heaven’s White morphed from out of the fog, the sharp point jabbing out of the front almost within reach to him. Wires ran from the deck to the large sails booming and cracking about wildly in the wind, and aside from them, the monolith floated along silently. Arend could scarcely believe what he was seeing; it was too large to be a mirage, a mere ghost ship taunting him on the horizon. It was an entire caravel in the sky.

The gopher lad was almost totally taken in by the ship, forgetting at once his pitiful, stranded island and the depths below. He jumped to his feet, and as he came down from the shock, he thought to call out to it—someone was surely on board, and as much as he still wasn’t sure it was even quite there, he didn’t see much of any other way to safety.

“H-hey! Someone!” was all he could think to say, though it seemed no one heard.

He yelled louder. “Over here! I-I’m stuck!”

Forward momentum took the ship a moment to slow down and a curve around his island to stop completely. By now, it was close enough that he could see the well-kept, cream-coloured boards making up the hull and vague, wandering, bipedal shapes on deck, though they said nothing back.

Arend stood, ready to beg, plead, and desperately make his case for being let on board. He wasn’t even sure what those aboard a caravel in the sky could even want, from a tunneling gravel gremlin like himself, but he was ready to try nonetheless. He was strong, if a bit slow. He could carry boxes or barrels or whatever cargo they dealt with (assuming they dealt with cargo at all, that is). His claws made for effective defense, if he could get close enough to…whoever would stage a takeover of such a vessel. He’d try his best not to let the heights get to him.

Thankfully, no talking was necessary. One of the figures pulled a cord of rope from the deck floor and tossed it at the island, embedding it into the halo of stone. He pulled at it when taut, even pressing down on it with his foot. The cord was sturdy under the pressure.

Arend suddenly realized they wanted him to climb across to board, over the bottomless, endless expanse below him.

Got a post probably tomorrow or the day after coming about my shifting mindset when it comes to my writing and how much more positive I’m feeling about it. It’s another one of those personal posts, but a lot less unpleasant than the ones I’ve previously written.

Gonna be a good winter, it will be.

Leave a Comment