Chapter 137: Fragment
Flutter.
Golden lashes flickered open in the dark. The white irises embedded within her eyes dilated due to the lack of light, adjusting rapidly to the environment.
Reaching her hand out, the young girl latched onto the rope hanging above her head in the dark. Using it as a guide, she slowly rose from her rest, then she reached into her pocket and picked out her metal card.
Her ornament.
Rubbing her fingers across its surface, she felt the engraved word [Liar].
Sensing it, she released a tautly held breath and relaxed her limbs, "I'm fine." Grumbling with a hoarse voice, the golden-haired lass 'crawled' through the dark of her room by fumbling around with the ropes intercrossed throughout the room.
Eventually, grip, she firmly clasped the main rope leading outwards through the open door.
Following it out, the young girl, dressed in more combat-appropriate attire, a sleek black outfit padded in sections with plated armour, passed through the entirely dark hallways.
The groaning of the ship echoed through the ebony, latching onto her like the cries of thousands of despairing souls.
Yet it didn't faze her; it couldn't, not this girl.
Light was impossible to find within the belly of the ship, a sight both unnatural and unnerving. The darkness was a condition that should never have existed within the resting place of humans, yet it did.
Quiet darkness.
Soulless creaking of the swaying ship.
And the sole sound of soft boots pressing against the ebonous wood.
But, suddenly, a vibration rang through the rope held in her hand. The girl instantly sensed it, released her hold of the rope, and grabbed onto a second line that ran beside it; this time, this line didn't vibrate.
She took a moment to double-check, then, after confirming her temporary safety, she continued her march down through the ship.
This girl, Alora, was marching towards one specific location:
The Captain's Cabin.
Towards the source of the leak.
Towards the loudest point of The Canary.
Tracing rope after rope, Alora stood her ground as the noises grew louder and louder the further she walked. Arriving at the bottom of the staircase, she followed it up, with the winds howling like shrieking witches into her ears.
By the time she arrived at the junction connecting the entrance to both the staircase and the Captain's Cabin, her footsteps could no longer be heard.
It was as though she were on the main deck, the noises too loud to hear through.
Tightening her fingers around the rope leading around the corner to the Captain's Cabin, Alora braced herself and trudged around the corner towards the noise; towards the leak.
Then, as she turned the last corner, as the Captain's Cabin came into view...
It entered her vision through the darkness.
Past the open door, a crack of twisted, refracted light drizzled through one singular, fractured wooden board of the many complete ones covering the massive window at the back of the Captain's Cabin.
Parting her frosted lips, Alora hesitated, bit back down on them for a moment, then mumbled through the darkness, through the crushing noises:
"I'm sorry."
The soundwaves were reinforced with Curses powerful enough to disintegrate the finest metals. Her words were ingrained with Authority venomous enough to rot the fabric of reality that tethered down this Cursed monster—this creature that is Alora.
Then, Alora turned.
She faced away from their mistake... No, her mistake; away from the agonising truth of this Canary that she'd been forced to face. Alora followed the rope away from the leak, from the noise thundering through the cracked wooden board.
Chasing the rope out and away from the Captain's Cabin, Alora inevitably arrived in front of the door leading outwards to the main deck of The Canary.
For just a split second, Alora released the rope.
She planted both hands on the door handle and twisted it open. The cold handle stole the faint peal of warmth residing beneath her absurdly pale yet beautiful skin, revealing the faint outline of Cursed Vessels pulsing with horrid Curses—with the cries of millions echoing within their putrid streams.
Click.
Unlocking the door, she slammed her palm directly back on the rope.
It was a mere split-second, but-
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Her heart was pounding, her mind firing neurons in panic as she focused on the ropes and paid close attention to them.
She had to wait.
To check.
To see.
So, wait she did.
A second.
Then five.
Then...
"Hoo..."
She released a breath of Curses, relaxing her limbs momentarily.
Alora was safe.
Trickles of sweat oozed from her palms, laden with weak Curses that she promptly set ablaze and cured. Just in case someone used these ropes, it was better to take care of her mess.
She doubted it, though.
Still, better to take precautions.
With that done, Alora stepped out of The Canary into the silence. The sound of the leak from behind her was reduced to zilch as she shut the door and moved her hands over to one of the many sets of ropes that were intercrossed throughout the main deck of The Canary.
Alora's pure white irises came to life as soft light washed over her, straining her eyes for a mere moment before she adjusted.
Yes, light.
There was light.
Almost unnatural, yet vaguely reminiscent of that of the Aurora's.
The source?
Step.
Alora walked to her left, following the ropes regardless of the presence of light, and walked up the stairs leading to the quarterdeck.
The moment she reached the top, Alora stepped over to the back of the quarterdeck and leaned over the railing; her eyes traced the source of the light and fixed on the core.
A gentle, glowing fragment of absolute heat sat amidst a vast basin; it sat somewhere vaguely close to the core of the citadel. The liquid of the Sunless Skies fell in the form of waterfalls all around the basin into the bottom of the black, still liquid surrounding the ruined citadel.
It was vast.
Truly.
At least 5 kilometres in radius, stretching from one end of her vision to the other.
Everything about this ruin, be it the shattered, glowing fragment of utter heat that seemed to burn with violence like nothing ever seen before, yet burned nothing, or the fact that the liquid of the Sunless Skies crashed down in waves of waterfalls from all sides of the basin, yet seemed to disappear into the still, black pools surrounding the citadel...
It was all...
Wrong.
So, disgustingly wrong.
Yet, Alora did not react.
She didn't seem to care in the slightest.
Instead, "3 days left. I have to round them up before then." Alora sighed at her ridiculously tedious task.
Rubbing her fingers along the tough rope, she continually mumbled, "3 days... 3 days... Only 3 days left..."
Letting one hand go from the rope, she tapped her chin and tilted her head slightly, an action terrifyingly familiar to a certain figure from her past, "How do I get it done in just 3 days? She's lazing around, that one is horny all the time..."
Alora couldn't stop grumbling, not because the task was difficult, but precisely because it was tedious.
It was annoying to have to pick up the remnants after all this time.
"Tedious, tedious, tedious..."
She had to figure it out, the method to bring all the idiot friends of hers back together without another million fights breaking out...
"So tedious..."
...So annoying...
"So tedious..."
...So frustrating...
"So..."
...So...?
Flinch.
Alora's eyes darted downwards.
She saw it, the hand that had been holding the rope was now hovering mid-air.
Grip.
Tightening her hold, Alora relaxed her heart and released another vent of Curses from her mouth; anything to keep the insanities at bay.
"I should get going." Affirming to herself her next course of action, Alora turned her attention to a single rope that lay anomalous from the others.
It connected itself to the foremost section of the quarterdeck's railing, and, instead of intercrossing throughout The Canary like the other sections of rope, this one slipped down the side of The Canary's hull and into the depths of the basin leading to the citadel.
The rope left her point of view after just a few meters, having curled over the drop and fallen beneath the waterfall of black liquid.
Alora side-stepped closer to that rope, then switched her hold from the previous one to this one.
Tugging on it, she sensed its firmness, its unwillingness even to bend or stretch beneath her hand. It was solid enough to hold her weight and keep her off the black liquid by walking on top of it, rather than hugging it.
Were she to hug it and crawl down into the basin, her body would be drenched in the liquid. More importantly, this rope was firm enough to hold her weight, though it looked to be slack.
This was entirely thanks to Hildekar.
That insane engineer.
Nevertheless-
"Ha."
-Alora jumped up slightly, crouched low on the rope and, while keeping one hand firmly tightened against the rope...
Step.
...she began her descent into the citadel.
Into where her cohort awaited her, where they lay in slumber.