July 12th, 812, Fourth Rise

West of Iesi Island - the cloudship Auvina's Daughter

"Ah'm tellin' you, Ah saw it again!"

Gaffer Ted, as he was called, rolled his eyes at Lyrol's exclamation. He was walking along the axial catwalk down the center of the heavy lifter's envelope, stopping at each gasbag's valve to check for leaks or other unpleasant surprises. The evening's ruddy light turned the fore end of the long passageway red, but did little to impinge upon the chemical blue glow of the cloudman's lantern. He rolled his eyes where Lyrol couldn't see and mentally checked off the dorsal hull's fitness. If there had been a real problem, he would have heard about it first, and then been regaled with tales of ships that only one boy could see.

Tales that he probably picked up in Merindir and has been telling every minute since they left. One night in an airfield tavern, and Lyrol was been seeing Captain Black's ghost ship behind every anvil and streamer. Called a ghost only because the tales said it could vanish like a spring wind and run like Linilli herself; every cloudman knew a guy who knew a guy who once saw the ship, or met somebody who talked to a girl who was sweet on one of the crew. The cloudman snorted as he ducked under a pipe and swallowed a curse as he almost tripped over a mislaid wrench. He picked it up and vowed dire repercussions if he found out who left it laying about on a critical walkway.

"It was bigger'n us, ta be sure, an' tackin' hard ta th' south!"

The boy of twelve or so got an amused chuckle out of his older shipmate. Technically, Lyrol shouldn't have been aboard at all, but his mother was Gaffer Ted's niece and he never could resist those doe eyes that Marthi could pull out at the drop of a hat. At least the Auvina-Merindir-Iesi trip was a milk run; something good and easy for Lyrol to cut his teeth on. Long and boring, but to a cloudman, short and exciting meant a quick trip to Paivias and then explaining to Zeifi how you managed to get yourself into that situation in the first place.

"Boy, you saw a cloud, same as the out-trip," Gaffer Ted tested the valve for tightness, listened at it, then tapped the pressure gauge and made note of the slight dip since his last pass. There was a tiny leak on it somewhere, but they wouldn't be able to tell outside of a proper hanger. The Daughter wasn't like one of those new double-hulled military types where you could climb all around her gas bags, no sir-ee. She wasn't the fastest bird out there, but she was as dependable as they come, double hull or not dou–

"Ah did no! There were lights!"

Another eye roll, "Lights.. right. A soft glow like the first blush of dawn, I imagine?" He carted out an oft-quoted line associated with Lyrol's ghost and chuckled again as the boy blushed.

"No like that! It was an arc lamp, same as we got! An looked ta be twinklin' for a little. It went away as we pulled out o' the clouds. I don't think they saw us afore then, which is why Ah saw them signalin'!"

"Signaling what!? There are some islands out here, yes, but none big enough to bother even a small cloudship, let alone the Daughter or this ghost of yours," his voice was getting a little strained at the effort of maintaining the silly argument.

"Ah dunno! She was signalin' ta the north, too! Somthin' at her height!"

This got Lyrol a Look - the kind he thought only his mother could deliver. Gaffer Ted let the silence stretch for a minute while he shook his head on the inside. Bad enough that the boy would be spouting word of this to every ear he could lay his fingers on. The least he could do is not start rumors of ghost airships operating in tandem. That's just what they needed: the boy to invent a whole ghost fleet putzing about the south seas, likely commanded by a Commodore Black next thing you know.

"There's nothing out here for an airship to be signaling, Lyrol, and you know that. I don't want to hear talk of this again, especially not in port. Your Mam'll skin us both alive if word gets back to her that her little boy is running about spreading tall tales about cloudships that can't be signaling to things that don't exist."

There was another moment of silence wherein integrity warred with obedience on the boy's face, but he nodded jerkily quickly enough. The first rule of any cloudship was Do What You're Told, When You're Told and that would be enough to keep Lyrol's lips sealed, even if the imposing Word of Gaffer Ted hadn't been enough all by itself. The older cloudman nodded in approval and clapped Lyrol on the shoulder, "Speaking of islands, though, we should be passing over Lysistrata shortly. Help me check the rest of these valves and we'll catch a look-see from the aft portholes, what say?"

Lyrol's face lit up as only a young boy's can and he squeezed past Gaffer Ted and his glow-lantern to go scampering down the catwalk like a Thuanur spider monkey. The eld cloudman chuckled his trademark chuckle and followed down the narrow corridor at a more sedate pace.

By the time all of the valves and gauges were checked, the sun had sunk nearly to the horizon turning the eastern sky nearly black in their wake. Below and behind, slowly receding into the distance, was the island of Lysistrata, with its surrounding ring of islets. It was a beautiful sight, especially with the western sun glinting ruby and carnelian off flecks of shiny stone in the island's small hills and their roofing tiles made of the same material. It was gorgeous, the sight of a lifetime, and as Gaffer Ted glanced over at Lyrol to say as much, he noticed that the boy was looking out and up, rather than down. 

Gaffer Ted heaved a sigh, "Not your ghost ship again..."

"..not exactly..."

It was an odd tone to Lyrol's voice and the cloudman turned to follow grand-nephew's gaze, "Then wha–"

He stared open-mouthed as an iridescent bundle of light – like an aurora twisted and wrapped like colorful paper around a harvest day present – went arcing across the sky at a steady clip. As he watched, he he could make out more details, like wispy tails of auroral light streaming behind the bead, and protrusions that nearly resembles four broad wings, and a dark spot in the center that he couldn't quite make out details on, but that he would later swear bore a striking resemblance to the figure of a man."

There was a frustrated and sulky sigh to his right, "I guess I can't tell anybody about him either..."