Unbound

Lights danced inside the doors as sigaldry ignited along the edges of the room beyond, illuminating a space four times as large as the cove outside. Its size made Pit feel small—a rare occurrence in recent days—and it echoed back the soft lappings of the sea so loudly that it was like another ocean lay within. It was bone dry, however, and perfectly spherical, save for the flat plane of the floor. Upon that floor, among the geometric markings of sigils and array lines, nine diases were set in a triangular pattern with the triangle’s tip facing the doors. Each dias was inscribed with deeply chiseled glyphs that burned, illuminating what rested above them.

Nine massive Manaships.

Each one was ancient in design, sleeker than any modern craft Pit had seen, and built as if made of a single piece of pale wood. The hull and masts were riddled with a curious texture, which was at odds with its flowing design, but it hardly took away from their strange beauty.

Bundles of pale, silver-white sailcloth were secured against the cross-wise beams—Gaffs and yards, Pit recalled dimly—but there were far more than a normal galleon might have. Masts rose like a forest of young trees from the main deck and forecastle, as well as the sides, almost like the wings of a bird. There were even a number of sails poking out from the bottom of the ships, ribbed and splayed outward as if they would swim through the air—and they did. The ships all hovered above their own dias, suspended atop a ripple of air that smelled like ozone and salt.

Not birds. Big fish. Pit sniffed. Lightning and air Mana. Some force, too, maybe, all pushing up out of those glyphs.

The company stepped in cautiously, scouts testing the sigil-inscribed floors for traps or wards, but nothing was found. Pit walked in without a care. The place had accepted him, after all.

Standing closer, he inspected the nearest ship. It, like the rest, was covered in ropes and knots and little wooden brace things that Pit didn't have names for—all the stuff that he’d have seen on any Manaship, just fancier.

Not nearly as fancy as the Sailwhale, but what could measure up to perfection?

On the prow of the ship, right before the pokey stick part at the front, a figurehead emerged from the clean lines of the pale wood as if it were surfacing from within. Pit glanced around—a similar decoration was on all of them. Lizards, wolves, birds, even snarling cats were picked out in intricate detail, dozens of times bigger than they'd normally be in real life.