Chapter Three Hundred and Sixty-Four — From Sylphfree With Love
Chapter Three Hundred and Sixty-Four — From Sylphfree With Love After waving goodbye to the fleet and heading due west for a while, I finally let go of the Beaver’s wheel and let Calamity and Clive take over. Calamity was eager to learn how to pilot the ship, and Clive was a nice enough sort that he didn’t mind teaching others his trade. In fact, I think he liked giving lessons about piloting airships.As I left the poop deck I ran into Awen who smiled and gave me a little wave. “Hey Broc,” she said. “Do you mind helping me a little?”“Of course not,” I said. “But with what?”Her smile turned a little rueful and she gestured down at herself. She’d shucked off her coat at some point, leaving her in a blouse and sturdy trousers, both of which were now splattered with grease and oil.“Oh,” I said, giggling. “Sure, give me a second.” A liberal application of Cleaning magic later, and Awen was as fresh as new.“Thanks,” she said. “I was just checking up on the engine. One of the pirate’s bolts actually lodged itself into the engine compartment. It broke right through the wall and jammed itself into the housing of an air intake.”“Oh no,” I said.“It’s nothing too bad. I pulled it out and patched the hole. There was a weird whistle as soon as I opened the door into the engine compartment, so I knew something was up. Anyway, we’ll have to get a new housing but it’s just a bit of tin, nothing too complicated, and it should work just as well now as it did before. It’s not going to be an expensive fix. The hole in the hull is more annoying, we just had it painted.”“I know,” I commiserated. It really was annoying to have already collected a few scratches and scuffs right after the Beaver was refitted, but there wasn’t much we could do about it. At least the ship seemed to be in nearly perfect condition otherwise. Or... I guessed it was. “Is there anything else that broke?”“No. I think the engine was pushed a little harder than usual, but it’s running fine. I oiled everything that moves and made sure that anything that wasn’t supposed to be moving wasn’t.”I laughed again. “You make mechanics sound easy when you put it that way.”“I don’t find it all that hard,” Awen said. “It’s a little tricky but it’s just like a puzzle. The bigger and more complicated the machine, the more parts there are to the puzzle. Only they’re all interconnected, moving parts which are very loud sometimes.” She smiled. “That makes it more fun.”Awen loved her work, and it was just plain nice to see her enjoying what she did. I stretched until my lower back popped, then let out a big long sigh. “Ah, I think I need a nap,” I said.She nodded. “Today was tiring, wasn’t it?”I nodded at that. A glance at the sky suggested that it was still just the early afternoon, way too early for bed, but maybe not too early for a nap... although I supposed that I should have been preparing supper for everyone. “Want to help me in the kitchen? More hands will make it lighter work.”“Sure,” Awen said. “You’d think cooking would be like mechanics, but it’s so much harder somehow.”“Well, cooking’s like an art,” I said. “You just need to know what does what and go with what you think feels right. At least, that’s always worked out for me.”“I’m not good at art,” Awen said.I glanced at her, curious. “You’re not?”She shook her head. “No, I’m really not. My mother tried to get me to learn all sorts of art things, but I was never able to get the hang of any. Except music. But I can’t make my own music, I’m just okay at playing the instruments and following along to what’s written in front of me. I tried to compose a little, but I don’t know, it doesn’t work.”I tapped my chin, then shrugged. “That’s okay. Maybe try baking then? That’s less of an art and more of a science.”“That sounds fun. We could make cakes and things like that. Um, provided we install an oven on the Beaver, which sounds a little heavy.”“Right.” I said. That would be tricky.“Or I could bake in the engine room. Some parts get hot enough. All you’d need is to box them in, I think,” Awen said.“I don’t know if that’s a great idea. You’ll end up with engine gunk in some bread and I don’t think that’ll be healthy,” I said.Awen laughed. “Yeah, fair enough. Maybe a heat exchanger then? But that would also be pretty heavy.”We discussed the possibilities of an airborne bakery as we made our way to the Beaver’s lower deck and to the corridor lined by our separate bedrooms. I paused near the end. The door to the room we let Caprica take for herself was open a crack which wasn’t ideal. The ship rocked and turned sometimes, so having loose things meant that they’d roll around and bump into stuff.“One sec,” I told Awen as I pushed the door open. It felt a little rude to enter what I’d started to think of as Caprica’s room, but in reality she hadn’t left anything behind. There were some blankets on the cot and it was possible that she’d left some things in the few drawers tucked in the corner of the room, but otherwise the space was still empty, same as Bastion’s room.Except, of course, for a rather large crate left in the middle of the floor.“Huh,” I said as I stared at it. She’d mentioned sending this over, but I couldn’t recall any details about what it was. It was just a box, about as wide as my shoulders and tall as my hips.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.“Are those air-holes?” Awen asked, leaning around me to see into the room..There were, in fact, little holes drilled just under the hemp handles on either side of the crate. “That’s a little weird,” I said as I moved closer. I expected to find a note or something, but there was nothing, just a big old box.Then the box shuddered and I jumped so high I smushed my ears against the ceiling.“It’s alive!” I squeaked.Awen frowned and walked right up to the box and placed a hand atop it to stop its wobbling. “What’s in here?” she asked.“It’s me,” the box said.I blinked. The box said with Caprica’s voice. “Caprica?” I asked. “Are you in the box?”“Yes?” the box said.I looked to Awen who shrugged. “It’s nailed shut,” she said.“Maybe it’s a mimic,” I suggested. “Caprica, can you prove that it’s you? What’s your sister’s name?”“Gabrielle or Sylvia? You haven’t met my other sisters yet, as far as I know,” Caprica said.“Should we, ah, open the box?” Awen asked.“I guess so,” I said. This was a little strange. “You might want to go get Amaryllis and tell her that we have a stowaway onboard.”“I’m not a stowaway,” Caprica said from within the box she’d used to sneak aboard our ship, kind of like how a stowaway would.“If you say so,” I said.Awen looked at the box, then back up to me. “Right, I’m going to go fetch a crowbar,” she said before leaving.I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the crate. I could just make out Caprica’s eye through one of the air holes. “So, want to tell me why you’re, uh, nailed into a box and onboard the Beaver without permission?” I asked. “Because you could have just asked. You already have a room and everything.”“It’s not your permission that’s complicated,” she said. I had to imagine her very unprincess-like pout. “It’s my guards. It was complicated enough just getting onboard in this box you know, without a trail of guards and servants and all the usual train of sylph that follow a princess around.”“You wanted to sneak away?” I asked.“Well... not just that,” she admitted.I frowned and thought about it for a bit. Caprica didn’t seem to dislike her role as princess. She was a rather active one, and she sometimes pushed the boundaries, I imagined, but for the most part I think she enjoyed her life. Of course, there was... ah.“Caprica,” I asked.“Yes Broccoli?” she replied, voice a little muffled by the box.“Did you do this so that Bastion would follow you and come to your rescue?” I asked.The box was very, very silent. I could almost imagine it was a normal, stowaway-less crate. Finally, after a long wait, I heard a faint and very unconvincing, “No.”“Uh-huh,” I said.Awen returned with a crowbar and an Amaryllis.“What’s all this about a stowaway?” Amaryllis asked. I pointed to the box and she stared at it for a moment. “Toss it overboard,” she said. She sounded serious, but there was a hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth that suggested otherwise.Caprica thumped the inside of her box. “Let me out,” she said.“Broccoli once used this phrase on me... I found it quite insulting at the time, now what was it... oh yes,” Amaryllis grinned. “What’s the magic word?”“Is it ‘now?’” Caprica asked.“No, it’s ‘please.’ You should try it sometimes, Miss Stowaway Princess.”“Please let me out?” Caprica asked churlishly.Awen was holding back giggles as she moved around the box and jammed the end of her crowbar into the wood and forced it up bit by bit. Whomever Caprica had convinced to help her into the box had really done a nice job nailing it shut.“Ah, thank you!” Caprica said as she finally stood. The space in there wasn’t all that much bigger than she was, so I imagined it wasn’t a comfortable fit. Though it looked like she had a thin blanket squeezed into the bottom for padding.“Care to explain?” Amaryllis asked.“I thought you could use the help,” Caprica said.Amaryllis snorted. “Yeah, sure.”“She did it for love,” I said. “It’s kind of sweet... even if I’m pretty sure her plan won't work.”Caprica shot me a dirty look, but it faded soon enough.“Anyway,” I said. “Want to help us make supper?” I asked.“Just like that?” she replied.I stood up and got off her bed. “Well, yeah, what did you expect us to do? You obviously want to come with us, and I don’t think any of us mind.”“I mind the heat this will bring,” Amaryllis said. “The sylph might decide that we’ve kidnapped one of their precious princesses.”I shrugged. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes, right? Besides, maybe Caprica can write a nice letter home.” I patted Caprica on the back. “Now, did you pack a change of clothes? Some gear? Did you bring more than just one blanket? You know, you should always bring a towel with you when stowing away, just in case.”Caprica seemed a little overwhelmed for a moment, and I almost hugged her on reflex, but she shored up her resolve and stood taller. “I’m alright. I didn’t bring any clothes, but I’m certain I can endure these for a day or two. And I stashed a spare shield and sword under the bed, just in case.”“Cool!” I said. “In that case, want to help Awen and I in the kitchen? We don’t know what we’re making yet, but I bet it’ll be really tasty!”
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Chapter Three Hundred and Sixty-Five — Cultural Considerations
Chapter Three Hundred and Sixty-Five — Cultural Considerations “And here we go!” I said as I placed down what Awen and I had cooked.It wasn’t anything too complicated, a big stew, with whatever spices smelled nice, chopped up carrots, parsnips, turnips, radishes, and beets. All root vegetables that apparently grew aplenty in the Sylphfree mountains, judging by the stores we had of those. We also added some lentils to add some thickness to the stew and some mushrooms tossed in as well to make it taste a little meatier.I wasn’t sure of the taste yet, but my tummy was very insistent that I have a bowlful. Every sniff made it growl and grumble.We pulled out a few extra chairs from the bedrooms so that there would be room for everyone at the dining room table.The Beaver Cleaver was flying on a slow, meandering path westward, the wheel and sails locked and the engine shut down for the moment while the wind gently pushed us along. We couldn’t leave the wheel unattended forever, but for one meal? We could manage that.“That smells fantastic,” Calamity said as he spun his chair around and sat on it backwards. Next to him, the Scallywags, Joe, Sally and Oda, pulled up their own seats. It was nice to see them getting along.Steve, Gordon and Clive found seats mixed in with the rest of us, and soon enough I was taking people’s bowls and ladling in a healthy portion for everyone. Airshipping was busy, hard work, so the crew needed their bellies full.Empty tummies lead to empty minds, I always found.I served myself last, checked the cauldron (which was down to half, so not everyone would get thirds, which was a shame), then passed around some still-fresh bread before I sat down. “Eat up!” I called, even if some of the crew were already digging in.What followed was a couple of minutes where the only sounds were happy noises and the clink-clink of spoons tapping against bowls. Eventually though, the initial hunger passed and Calamity, who was the first to empty his bowl, pointed across the table with his spoon. “So, is the princess supposed to be here?” he asked.“Nope,” I said. “She snuck onboard.”“That’s a gross oversimplification,” Caprica said.“But it’s right?” I asked, a little confused. I paused to grab another spoonful of potato.“You know, back in my day we used to just toss stowaways overboard,” Clive said. I looked at him, horrified, and he went on to clarify. “They were harpy, they could glide down safely enough.”That still seemed a bit extreme, and not terribly nice, even if the stowaway wasn’t supposed to be there. “Well, let’s not throw Caprica overboard,” I said.“Yes, she might be somewhat useful,” Amaryllis said.“Somewhat?” Caprica grumbled. “I’ll have you know that I’m more than just somewhat useful, thank you very much.”“Girls, don’t fight,” I admonished. “Not at the dinner table, please. Or even anywhere else.”“It wasn’t a fight, Broccoli. Or even an argument. Just stating simple, verifiable facts,” Amaryllis said. She smiled slyly as she took a sip of water.Caprica glared across at her, then seemingly decided to be the bigger person and also let everyone know that she was being the bigger person by sniffing haughtily and looking away.“So, is this normal?” Calamity asked.“Kidnapping noblewomen?” I asked. “I don’t think it’s normal, but it is strange that it’s happened twice.”“Wait, was Amaryllis the first time?” he asked.“Oh, awa, that was me,” Awen said. “And it wasn’t so much kidnapping as, um, Broccoli helping me to run away from home.”“Huh, alright,” Calamity said. “Ny’all are a weird bunch, you know that?”I laughed, and the mood at the table lightened up a bit, not that it was ever dark to begin with. Though it was getting darker outside. The Beaver’s dining room had a floor-to-ceiling window to one side that gave us a stunning view of the expanse of sky and land below, all of which was turning the burnt-orange of near-night.Soon enough it was time for dessert, which wasn’t anything too fancy. Sylph chocolate bars, which were more like chocolate bricks that we had to scrape with a knife and which I imagined would break the teeth of anyone that tried to bite it.Caprica showed us a neat trick with some fire magic that warmed the interior of the bar up and turned it soft enough to be sliced apart with a butter knife.Once dessert was had and everyone sat back and enjoyed a mugful of warm tea, we discussed night rotations (I volunteered to take the first half of the night’s watch since I was wide awake) and generally planned our flight to the Snowlands.We were currently so far north that to get to the capital, Stormtower, we would actually need to head south around the Deepcloud mountains, then straight west for a long ways. It was going to take two days, at least, and that was if the wind was with us.No one here had flown across this part of the world before, but Clive warned that the winds around any mountains could be tricky, so we’d have to watch our heading and maybe fight the wind for a little while.On the more positive side of things, we had bunkers full of fuel, and more fuel aboard the Redemption if we needed it. Our pantry was full of yummy stuff to eat, and the company was fun to be around.With food taken care of, I said I’d do the washing up (which was basically just magic practice) and then the crew dispersed. Those on break lingered and those who had to take care of things went off to see to them.That meant that in the end, I was left mostly alone with Amaryllis and Caprica in the little kitchen space we had. I Cleaned our plates off and secured them in our rattle-resistant plate racks.“What do you know about the Snowlands?” Caprica asked.Stolen novel; please report.“Why? Do you intend to lecture us?” Amaryllis asked right back.“Girls,” I warned.“Sorry,” Amaryllis said after a moment. “Do go on.”Caprica nodded. “What I meant to ask was... well, I know a little about them, but not too much. I’ve met a few Snowlanders, but only rarely, and their nation is far enough away from Sylphfree that we don’t have much business with them. I imagine you might have seen them more often, Amaryllis, seeing as how you’re basically neighbours.”“There’s a strip of land between the Harpy Mountains and the Snowlands. It ostensibly belongs to the Trenten Flats, even if their claim on the region is... tenuous at best,” Amaryllis said. “In any case, no, I really don’t know much about them. Most of their technology is ahead of ours, and they’re not keen on sharing, but otherwise...” She trailed off. “You could ask Awen about their machinery, she’d know more than I do.”Awen was off checking on the engine at the moment, so that kind of discussion would have to wait.“I don’t think a people’s technology is everything there is,” I said. “What’s their culture like? Are they friendly? Shy? Reclusive? I haven’t met anyone from there so I wouldn’t know where to start. What do Snowlanders even look like?”“Oh,” Caprica said. “Well, I can share a little about their culture, but I think you’re operating under a misunderstanding.”“Huh?” I asked.“It’s a fair one to make. Most nations have formed around a dominant core of a certain species, with representatives outside of that species being rare, although hardly unheard of. In Sylphfree we have the molefolk who make up a sizable percentage of the total population, even though they are quite different culturally. I think the Trenten Flats are a little more diverse when it comes to its population. The leadership and majority are both held by cervid, but a number of enclaves and cities exist with other peoples. Calamity’s kin being one large group.”“Oh,” I said. “Is the Snowlands like that?”She nodded. “The nation is nearly evenly split between two groups who have coexisted for a very long time.”“That’s cool!” I said.“Cool?” Caprica asked.“It’s a Broccoli-ism,” Amaryllis explained. “It means both interesting, neat, and cold at the same time. I suspect it’s because she comes from a place that’s very cold.”I blinked. How had my translation magic stuff translated ‘cool’ just then? “Yeah, anyway, tell me more about the Snowlanders. Are the two species similar, or are they super different?”“It’s less a scenario like the Harpy Mountains with its dozens of clans and old families,” Amaryllis said. “And more something akin to... well, actually I think it’s rather unique. The larger of the two groups-thought not by very much-are called the Cold Mountain Dwarves, and the smaller group is called the Snow Forest Elves.”I dropped a bowl.Fortunately, it was a tin bowl (because anything easy to break would be silly on an airship) and all it did was clang onto the floor, then do a warble-wobble until it settled. “Dwarves? Elves?!” I asked.“Yes?” Caprica said. She was leaning way back, and I realized that maybe I hadn’t been using my indoor voice there.“Sorry, but... yeah, I wasn’t expecting that.”“Why are you surprised?” Amaryllis asked.“I just am,” I said. “Are they Tolkien elves?”“What?” they both asked at the same time.I shook my head. “Sorry, I mean, tall, pretty, very long-lived? Lithe?”Amaryllis nodded. “That seems to describe them. Though I don’t know about their lifespans.”“They’re quite long-lived,” Caprica said. “But there are relatively few of them, overall.”“Awesome! And are the dwarves small stocky fellows with big beards?”“So you have heard of them,” Caprica said. “Are there any in your homeland?”“No, but I wish there were! Oh, now I can’t wait to arrive. Are the elves snooty? Do the dwarves care a bunch about their beards?” I asked. These were, of course, very important questions. When I set out to play fantasy tourist I didn’t expect to actually meet actual elves and dwarves.“I... don’t know about snooty. They’re certainly a proud and noble race,” Caprica said. “As for the dwarves, yes, they do tend to have beards.”“This is amazing, I am so excited,” I could barely contain myself.“We can see that,” Amaryllis replied. I think she was a little teensy bit weirded out, but she didn’t understand, so it wasn’t her fault. “In any case, the Snowlanders are big on respect and decorum. Moreso even than Sylphfree.”“And at the same time, they’re also exceptionally laid back,” Caprica said. “It’s a challenge to determine when they’ll switch from extremely formal to... nearly vulgar in their informality. It’s not even a question of friendship or power dynamics. I honestly don't know how they choose which set of behaviors is appropriate, or what factors might influence them — no one knows, in fact, so I’ve always been taught to be formal and polite to a fault around them. Being informal when you should be formal is an insult, the opposite is merely a faux-pas, so that’s the rule when dealing with them.”“I think I can manage that,” I said. “How do you think they’ll react to our mission? Is it even a mission?”“Chasing down Vonowl?” Amaryllis said. She avoided calling him a baron, I noticed. “If they know what’s good for them, they’ll surrender him to the Harpy Mountains for justice without too much of a fuss.”“Or they might not. It’s hard to tell. We might have more luck dealing with an intermediary. There are a number of humans in the Snowlands, especially in their port cities where Endless Swell ships can come in to dock. They might be able to simplify our quest for us.”“I’m sure things will work out,” I said. “In the meantime, we’re still a couple of days out, aren’t we?”
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