A week passed.
Canarine Town, or what remained of it, had begun to regain a semblance of order. Spark Nighthawk helped. With his towering frame. And deceptively amiable demeanor. He and his women had been instrumental during the town recovery that week.
However, Spark didn't concern himself with sentimentality. His help was a pragmatic solution for his on conscience. And a small investment in his own resources and schedule.
Basic shelters now dotted the landscape. Utilizing salvaged lumber. Reinforced with rune-inscribed panels Spark personally crafted.
Orders were established. Clean water sources secured. And public kitchens dished out the giant fish and other marine animals fished and hunted from the sea below the sky island.
Jack's women also worked with extreme efficiency.
Lilith, organized and decisive, managed the distribution of goods. And coordinated survivor efforts.
Ivy, always meticulous, oversaw the purification of water. And the creation of basic medical tinctures.
Melody and Serenade provided a subtle, calming aura that kept panic at bay. Their presence was a quiet anchor amidst the chaos. Especially in the early days.
Scarlett, with her unsettling control over insects, proved invaluable in handling public security. Handling trouble-makers and potential problems early. Before they grew into uncontrollable mess later.
The situation got much better after two of Mayor Hilldove's war-galleon sky ships returned. Their crews were grim yet spirited. They had witnessed how the mayor led them to massacre the dragons themselves.
Their return provided substantial manpower. And uplifted the spirit of the survivors.
But Mayor Hilldove's flagship, the Daughter of Joy, was still absent. It had sailed directly for the Avianest Kingdom's capital, Eagledome.
The mayor went there directly to report the dragon conflict. And securing vital aid: population transfers, military reinforcements, and desperately needed provisions.
Spark didn't care for reports or political maneuvering. He had seen enough. His self-imposed task of providing immediate relief was done. Waiting for the mayor's return was not on his agenda.
His next destination had already been set... Kranecurry, the Island of Culinary Delight. The name itself promised a stark contrast to the devastation he was about to leave behind.
Early morning... The sky hadn't even turned blue yet, Spark stood on the makeshift pier he had helped construct.
He reached into his Technomind Space. A ripple in the air. A faint shimmer. And a classic leather-bound book materialized in his hand. He gripped it tightly. His thumb tracing the spine.
A surge of Technomind energy flowed into the object. He threw it. The book rapidly expanded. Its pages unfurled into planks. Its cover transforming into a hull.
In seconds, the small book became the Sky Grimoire. Spark's sleek sky sloop. Its polished wooden deck was gleaming under the nascent sun. Its powerful main mast, currently bare of its sail, rose majestically.
His women were already gathered. Their personal packs were light. All of them had their spatial bag after all. Even Lilith, who acquired hers when they searched the destroyed trading district.
"Let's go!" Spark said. His voice was a decisive ones. He didn't say goodbye to the survivors still asleep in their emergency beds. His actions had spoken enough.
They boarded. The Sky Grimoire's deck was surprisingly spacious for a sloop. Designed with Spark's specific needs in mind.
Spark took the helm. His large hands were gripping the smooth, warm wood. He activated the anti-gravity runes. And the sloop rose silently into the air. Like a phantom ship lifting from the ruined town.
They continued their sky voyage.
...
The first day was uneventful. The Sky Grimoire cut through the azure expanse. A quiet whisper of wind was its only companion. The world below was a patchwork of land and sea. Slowly shrinking into a distant map.
They took their own tasks. And ate the simple meals prepared by Ivy. The tranquility was only occasionally broken by Melody's soft, wordless humming.
They took turn monitoring the sky around them. Either manually using spyglass. Or readings from the Technomind radar console embedded near the helm. One that automatically detected a constant flow of data. About atmospheric pressure, wind currents, and magical anomalies.
On the second day, the sky ahead began to shift. It was subtle at first. A deeper grey smudge on the horizon.
"Front, dark clouds." Lilith announced. It was her turn to monitor the sky. Her voice was devoid of alarm. Merely stating fact. "Likely a big one."
Others, including Spark also felt no pressure. They had time to adjust direction. But the problem was, they didn't actually had that much time...
Within the hour, the 'big one' Lilith mentioned descended. It wasn't just a storm. It was a chaos-storm. The sky seemed to turn into an angry, bruised black creature. Crackling with lightning, raw magical energy, and space cracks.
Lightning bolts, thick as tree trunks, split the air. Striking the clouds and sending deafening thunderclaps echoing through their bones.
The wind howled like a banshee's scream. Tearing at the Sky Grimoire. Pulling it this way and that.
Rain lashed down. Almost horizontal sheets of ice-cold water that stung the skin. And quickly soaked through clothing.
"Secure all non-essential equipment! Use your spatial bag!" Spark roared over the gale. His voice was barely audible above the storm's fury.
He fought the helm. Using manual control and his connection to the sky-ship as his third technomind gear.
His immense muscles were straining against the unseen forces trying to rip the ship apart. The Sky Grimoire bucked and swayed. Groaning under the assault.
Lilith strapped herself into a navigation station. Her blonde hair was plastered to her face. Her fingers flying across arcane navigation diagrams. Trying to find a path through the worst of the turbulence.
"Readings are chaotic, Master!" She shouted her report. "Spatial distortions everywhere! We're being pushed off course!"
Ivy, smaller than any of them, moved with surprising stability. She took out a rapid-setting alchemy paste from his spatial bag. Using it to seal small cracks that were already appearing in the hull.
"Pressure integrity holding at seventy percent. Master! We need to reduce atmospheric friction!" She reported.
"We're descending! Activating defensive forcefield!" Spark responded immediately.
He pressed a hidden button near the steering wheel. Creating a shimmering, golden aura around the Sky Grimoire.
It was dampening the magical feedback from the storm and subtly reinforcing the ship's structure. The eerie whistling of the wind seemed to lessen slightly within their magical sphere.
But the storm was getting stronger.
Scarlett's red hair was whipping around her face. As she moved along the deck. She used her eldritch handgun to blast away larger hailstones that threatened to punch through the deck. Her magic buckler deflected others with sickening thuds.
"Rigging's loose on the main mast, Master!" She yelled. Her voice was hoarse but exhilarated. "The top section is cracking!"
Spark cursed. They hadn't gotten a chance to furl the sail. The main mast, a marvel of Technomind engineering, was designed to withstand extreme forces.
But this storm was beyond extreme. Involving spatial distortion and magical chaos. It felt like the very fabric of reality was being torn.
He could feel the vibrations of the mast through the deck. A deep, resonant groan. He had pushed the Sky Grimoire's engines to their limit. Trying to go low.
A particularly violent updraft slammed into the sloop. Lifting it hard before dropping it with a sickening lurch. A deafening crack echoed over the storm's roar.
"Mast!" Lilith screamed.
The main mast, a solid shaft of enchanted wood and metal, snapped near its base. It fell with agonizing slowness. The massive sail, already shredded by the wind, collapsed into a tangled mess of canvas and rope.
The Sky Grimoire spiraled downwards. No longer able to maintain altitude and balance.
"We're going down!" Ivy yelled. Bracing herself.
Spark didn't waste breath on fear. His mind was already calculating. "Emergency descent! I'll get all thrusters to full reverse! Brace for impact!"
He slammed his massive hand onto a rune-etched panel. Triggering the emergency protocols. The Sky Grimoire's thrusters, usually providing silent propulsion, roared to life with an uncharacteristic whine. Fighting against the plummet.
The sea rushed up to meet them. A churning expanse of dark, foam-crested waves. The impact was quite violent. A bone-jarring crash. Followed by the sickening lurch of the ship being tossed by the monstrous waves.
Water slammed over the deck. Sweeping across it in torrents. Spark was holding the helm with a tight grip. He fought to stabilize the ship. Preventing it from capsizing.
A few hours later...
When the immediate danger passed, the Sky Grimoire floated. Battered but miraculously afloat. Bobbing precariously in the still-angry sea. The storm had finally passed.
"Damage report!" Spark barked, his voice raw.
"Main mast is gone, sail's completely destroyed!" Lilith reported. Already assessing the external damage with quick, practiced scans. "Hull integrity holding, but we've taken on some water in the lower compartments. Thrusters are strained, but still functional, Master."
"Emergency repairs." Spark ordered. "Lilith! Oversee the temporary patch on the mast base. Ivy! Focus on solving internal leakages. Melody! Secure any loose rigging. Serenade! Take out the backup sail from the internal cargo room. Scarlett! You're on the watch duty. I'll handle the structural stresses."
They moved. Dealing with their assigned tasks in efficient manner.
Hours passed. The black clouds above thinned. Revealing the blood-orange sunset. The wind lessened to a strong breeze. And the waves calmed. Although they still rolled with formidable power. They were adrift, but they quickly recovered.
As the last streaks of light faded, they had completed the arduous process of jury-rigging a new mast.
However, the sky above them began to darken once more. But this wasn't the return of the storm. This darkness was different. It was an unnatural gloom. A cold mist that rolled in from nowhere.
The air grew frigid. A damp chill that seeped into their bones. Colder than the sea and the evening air combined.
"Ship! Ahead!" Scarlett shouted a warning. Spark and the others quickly moved to the deck. Observing the unnatural situation.
The mist swirled. Coalescing into impossible shapes. Then, from its heart, a silhouette began to emerge. Massive, ancient, spooky ship.
It was a galleon. Its three towering masts silhouetted against the deepening gloom. Its sails tattered and rotting. Yet somehow filled with an unseen wind.
Eerie, phosphorescent lights glowed from within its skeletal hull. Casting a sickly green pallor onto the turbulent waters. Barnacles and ancient corrosion clung to its wooden skin. Yet it moved with a silent, graceful menace that defied its obvious decay.
It was impossibly huge. Easily dwarfing their sloop. A legendary galleon. Whispered about in grim taverns. And noted in ancient texts.
The Saint Zephirea. A ghost ship.