The constant hum of the Nimbus' arcane engines had become a familiar tune for Lyre over the last five days. The young water mage leaned on the bow rail, his eyes scanning the vast ocean of clouds that stretched out in all directions. The wind played with his dark hair, bringing with it the scent of ozone. Despite the tension that had been hanging over the crew since the start of the expedition, Lyre couldn't contain the excitement bubbling in his chest. He was further away from Aqualon than he had ever been, and every moment brought a new wonder.
'Admiring the view, Stormweaver?' Finn Windwhisper's voice cut through his thoughts. The air navigator joined Lyre on the rail, his shrewd eyes scanning the horizon. 'Better make the most of it while you can. We've got trouble coming.'
Lyre frowned, following Finn's gaze. In the distance, a dark mass of clouds was forming, pulsating with an ominous light. 'That... doesn't look like a normal storm.'
Finn let out a dry laugh. 'Nothing's normal at Etherea's altitudes, kid. That's a magic storm, and a big one.'
Before Lyre could reply, the sound of heavy boots announced the arrival of Captain Stormbreaker. The burly man, with his grey beard and scars from countless battles, glared hard at the approaching storm. 'Windwhisper, what are our options?'
Finn scratched his chin, his eyes never leaving the horizon. 'We can try to go round it, Captain, but that would delay us by at least two days. Or we could face it head on.'
The captain let out a thoughtful grunt. 'What about our chances if we take her on?'
'Honestly? It depends on how good our water mage's luck is here,' Finn said, patting Lyre on the back.
Lyre felt the weight of both men's gazes on him. The tension of the last few days, the doubts whispered by the other crew members about his presence on the expedition, all weighed on his shoulders at that moment. But he straightened up, meeting the captain's gaze. 'I'm ready for whatever is needed, sir.'
Stormbreaker studied Lyre for a long moment before nodding. 'Very well. Windwhisper, plot a course through the storm. Stormweaver, prepare yourself. This will test everything you've learnt so far.'
The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity. The crew ran around, securing loads, checking engines and reinforcing protection spells. Lyre stood in the centre of the deck, concentrating, feeling the energy of the water in the air around him. It was different from the ocean water he was used to, more volatile, charged with raw magic.
As the Nimbus approached the storm, the sky darkened. Lightning crackled between the clouds, not blue or white, but shades of green and purple. The wind howled, carrying with it whispers and echoes of distant voices.
'Get ready!' The captain's voice thundered above the growing chaos. 'Stormweaver, now!'
Lyre closed his eyes, holding out his hands. He felt magic flow through him, connecting him to the storm. It was like trying to tame a raging ocean with his bare hands. With every movement he made to calm the turbulent waters in the air, the storm responded with redoubled fury.
A bolt of purple lightning cut through the sky, striking the Nimbus' main mast. Lyre heard panicked screams and smelled burning wood. But he couldn't be distracted. He concentrated more deeply, searching for the heart of the storm.
And then he felt it. A pulse, a rhythm underlying the storm's chaotic symphony. It wasn't random, Lyre realised. There was a pattern, an ancient and primordial music.
With sudden clarity, Lyre realised. He wasn't fighting the storm. He was dancing with it.
His movements changed, becoming fluid, harmonious. He was no longer trying to control the water in the air, but to guide it, to channel its fury around Nimbus instead of against it.
The change was immediate. The wind still howled, but now it seemed to propel the ship rather than trying to destroy it. Lightning still struck, but it deflected off the Nimbus at the last moment, creating a dazzling light show.
'By all the gods,' Finn muttered next to Lyre. 'Are you... singing?'
Lyre barely registered the words. His voice rose in a wordless melody, echoing the rhythm of the storm. It was ancient, older than Aqualon, older than the floating islands themselves. It was the song of Etherea itself.
How long he danced with the storm, Lyre couldn't say. It could have been minutes or hours. When he finally opened his eyes, the Nimbus was emerging into a clear, starry sky. The storm roared behind them, but they had passed.
A stunned silence fell over the deck.
It was Captain Stormbreaker who broke it, his resounding laughter echoing through the night. 'Well, let them hang me and call me a mermaid! I've never seen anything like it in all my years in the skies!'
The crew erupted into cheers and applause. Lyre staggered, exhausted, but a smile spread across his face. Finn held him up, preventing him from falling.
'That,' said the navigator, a new respect in his eyes, 'was something extraordinary, Stormweaver.'
Lyre nodded, his mind still spinning with the revelations of the storm. 'Finn,' he said, his voice hoarse, 'storms... they're not just natural phenomena, are they?' Finn looked around, making sure no-one else could hear them. 'No, they're not,' he whispered. 'They're ancient, Lyre. As old as Etherea. Some say they're the voice of the world itself.'
'But why? Why do they exist?'
The navigator shrugged. 'No-one knows for sure. Some believe they are guardians, protecting ancient secrets. Others think they are warnings, harbingers of something to come.' Lyre felt a shiver run down his spine. 'And what do you think?' Finn was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the storm was still roaring. 'I think,' he said at last, 'that we've just drawn too much attention to ourselves. And not everyone is going to be happy about it.'
Before Lyre could ask what he meant, a shout came from the gazebo. 'Captain! Something approaching fast from starboard!' Everyone ran to the side of the ship. At first, Lyre saw nothing but the vastness of the night sky. Then he saw them. Shadows moving against the stars, winged shapes that were too big to be birds.
'Stormbreakers,' Finn muttered, his face pale in the starlight. Captain Stormbreaker cursed, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and awe.'Get ready, you dogs of the sky! It seems our little dance with the storm has attracted the attention of creatures that would be better left asleep!'
As the crew rushed to their battle positions, Lyre remained motionless, watching the shapes approach. The fatigue of the storm still weighed heavily on his limbs, but a new wave of adrenaline coursed through his veins.
The creatures approached quickly, their shapes becoming clearer by the second.They weren't dragons, or griffins, or anything else Lyre had ever seen or heard of.
They were... something else.
And they were coming straight for Nimbus.