Ficly

Airships: The Crossing

The Frenchman led her back through the ship and up into the bridge, which seemed to double as the map-room.

Every single surface – including the ceiling – had maps plastered over it. Some “normal” maps, with contours and small annotations marking points of interest, some were star maps for finding one’s way without the need for a compass, and some must have been the fold charts that he had spoken of before.

The captain gestured out through the front of the bridge, where the fold – much as it had done with her cabin – was slowly swallowing the ship. Crew members manned several stations on the bridge, tapping at vast arrays of dials and inspecting spirit levels that went from side to side of their own accord.

“They say one’s first crossing is a wondrous experience – I certainly remember mine like it was yesterday. It is a shame you missed the approach, but I understand you were refreshing your spirits.”

Elletra stammered out a reply, transfixed by the tendrils emanating from the fold.

“Is this safe?”

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