Cinnamon Bun

Chapter Five Hundred and Eighty-One – Plans are Useless, But Planning is Indispensable



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Chapter Five Hundred and Eighty-One - Plans are Useless, But Planning is Indispensable

I really wanted to come up with a plan, but it was maybe a little pre-mature to do that when we hadn't yet found the castle, let alone the storm it was supposed to ride in.

Really, there were so many things that we didn't know, that even trying to come up with some sort of plan in the first place was kind of premature.

That didn't stop us from trying, because while flying the Beaver was a lot of fun, there were long stretches where we were basically just flying in a straight line with very little to see and less to do. Planning for stuff that there was no reasonable way we could prepare for was just... Well, maybe not common sense, but it was more fun than chatting about the weather.

And so, once we were underway, we gathered ourselves in the Beaver's kitchen to really sink our teeth into planning. And also maybe some snacks.

"I think, before anything else, we need to discuss the possibility of even making a safe landing in a storm," Amaryllis said.

"We've flown in some bad weather before," I said.

"Never a storm," Amaryllis pointed out. "So far, from the time of the Beaver's maiden voyage to now, we have been lucky enough to avoid most forms of inclement weather. Which is... honestly, quite unusual."

"Is it?" Caprica asked. "Plenty of skyfaring vessels avoid stormy seasons."

"No, that's not the unusual part. The unusual part is that the Cleaver has seen more action against pirates than it has against stormclouds," Amaryllis said.

"Hmm... I'll give you that one, it does make the vessel something of a statistical anomaly, I'm sure," Caprica said.

Desiree chuckled. "I have not trod upon this continent especially long, but I have grown to believe that statistical anomalies commonly manifest aboard this vessel."

"Wouldn't they not really be anomalies, then?" I asked.

"That's... not how it works, Broccoli," Amaryllis said. "And as usual, we have veered off the original subject. The storm. If the storm is too potent, then we may not be able to penetrate it."

"There has to be a way in and out of it," I said. "Maybe there's a section of the storm that's fake?"

"Fake?" she asked.

"Like, a big illusion! It just looks stormy. The rest can be real, I guess. But it would allow the Black Avatars to come and go without trouble. Or maybe they use magic of some sort to turn the storm off?"

"I am quite familiar with storm-adjacent magics, and I can assure you that one cannot simply 'turn it off.' Effects which are imposed upon reality by magic do not cease to adhere to the basic principles of physics simply because the magic has worn off."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Amaryllis frowned, then she ruffled her wings and pulled out a feather. A loose pinion, I think, because pulling out a good feather hurts. She raised it, then cast a small, quick spell. When she let go, the feather hovered at shoulder height.

"And if I extinguish the spell..."

I felt the mana go out, and then the feather began drifting toward the floor.

"Magic can take hold of an object like this, letting us move it around at our leisure. Once I terminate the spell, the feather immediately falls to earth, so it seems as though spells do not leave lingering effects. The same is true of one of my electrical spells - I could shock you with it while the spell is running, but once I cut the mana, the electrocution stops."

I frowned. "Why is your example about electrocuting me?"

"This is something of an illusion, however," Amaryllis went on, "if the electrocution harms you, ending the spell doesn't restore you health. Thus, there are lingering effects. This becomes more apparent as you consider larger scenarios. If you cut the engine on the Beaver, do we grind to a halt?"

I shook my head. "No, we keep coasting along for quite awhile."

"It would be exactly the same if we somehow propelled the Beaver purely with magic. Once up to speed, the ship's momentum would be retained even if the spell ends."

"I think I get it," I said. "Like... pushing your hand through water? Even if you pull your hand out, the water continues to move for a bit."

"Yes, more or less."

"So if the entire storm is one big spell, then turning it off would still leave a storm behind, even if it might wind down after a while?" I asked as I tried to connect the dots. Amaryllis nodded. "Okay, so it might not be that. Maybe there's another special route through the storm?"

"Like coming in from directly above?" Caprica asked. "I've heard stories of sylph caught in hurricanes off the eastern coast discovering a large, peaceful area in the centre of the storm. Perhaps it is something similar? If you can fly high enough you can drop into the centre where the castle is?"

"Yeah, exactly," I said. "Maybe it's a bit more complicated then that, though. Like... maybe you need to come in from below? Or a specific angle?"

Amaryllis rubbed at her chin. "I haven't truly considered it before, but a storm is... massive. I can't think of any living archmage that can casually summon one. Perhaps there are some that are that powerful. Mages in the fourth tier and above, but those are one in ten million. And they'd have to be specialized in Storm magic. That's discounting the ability to keep it up."

"What are you saying?" I asked. "That it's too expensive?"

"Yes. Ridiculously so. Though we haven't seen the storm yet, so I'll reserve judgement for now. For all we know, it's a farmer's tail and the 'storm' is a collection of a few darker-than-usual clouds."

I was really hoping it wasn't just that. Not that I'd be angry, just... kind of disappointed. If a trip that started so far away and which involved travelling so far ended with us discovering a ... rather boring little castle, then that would be, uh, kinda lame.

"At least it's still a flying castle," I said. "That's cool, right?"

Amaryllis harrumped. "Maybe 'castle' is a misnomer?"

"Where I am from, the words for 'castle' and 'estate' are often interchangeable," Desiree replied.

"Hah! Imagine arriving and the castle is nothing but a humble old home with a bit of fog beneath it," Caprica said.

"Well, in that case I really would be upset," I said with a serious nod. The Black Avatars' story had sounded so cool. It would be sad if we discovered that it amounted to so little in the end.

I had to stop chatting for a bit as captainly duties called. We were setting up for the next change in our watch rotation soon, and I wanted to make sure everyone was comfy and I wanted to talk to the friends coming off their rotation, mostly to see if they noticed anything.

One of them happened to be Calamity, who was chewing on a long stalk of what might have been wheat. Had he stolen that from the village we were just in? "Nyeah, I did notice one thing," he said before pointing off in the distance. "See that, all the way out there?"

I squinted that way, but the most I could make out was a smudge. So I went and fetched a spyglass and held it up to my eye. "Is that... a ship?" I asked.

"I reckon it is," he replied from next to me. "Looks like its heading up along the coast. We'll be a ways off before it ever gets close."

Probably nothing then, I concluded. Ships had to travel between Pyrowalk and the independent cities along the coast and near the Harpy Mountains. For those, following the coast would only make sense.

Actually ... that gave me an idea. I tromped back belowdecks, poking around until I found Awen in the engine room. With the Beaver cruising full ahead, it was incredibly loud, so I intended to just hop in and pull her out for a moment of conversation. But ... she looked pretty busy, and there was something mesmerizing about how she was tinkering, something about the way her hands moved like a sped-up video of a master artisan. Had her mechanical skills ranked up?

I lost track of time watching her work, but she eventually noticed me. A few gestures later, and we were out in the hallway. Most of the sound dampened out as she closed the door.

"You needed me for something?" she asked.

"Kinda," I said. "Greenshade is right on the westernmost bit of Mattergrove, right? Did you see ships from Pyrowalk sometimes?"

"Ah, rarely?" Awen said. "Some would come in from there, of course, but I don't think we really had anything worth the trouble."

"Right, I remember you saying something like that, once. I'm... okay, I'm really just bored. There's so long until tonight and I don't want to let the others know that I'm bored because then Bastion might find out and he'll have me doing exercise."

Awen giggled, but continued to work. "Maybe you can help me come up with new ideas? I'd like to make some small things to improve the Beaver."

"What kinds of things? Like... jet engines to make us go faster?"

"What's a jet engine?" Awen asked. "And no, I was thinking... better hinges on the doors? I saw some that had a little piston that helped stabilize the motion of a door. Or, uh, stuff like that, I mean... every well-made ship I've seen has had a lot of clever ways of doing things. Small, but smart. I think I'd like to slowly improve the Beaver that way. Better stairs one day, better hinges another, maybe improve the efficiency of a tool a little some other day. When I started working on the Beaver it was kind of a lot, but I've been leveling pretty steadily. I should still try something challenging to level up sometimes."

"Oh... yeah, I think I can get that," I said. "Each little thing will probably only be a fraction of a percent more better overall, but those add up, right?"

"Exactly!"

"So... what about rocket engines to make us go faster then?"

***

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