Chapter 38: Magical Melodies
The next morning Nathan found Stella sitting near the front of the ship.
I think it’s called a bow. But none of us really know the terminology, and I don’t think Eolinne cares. Maybe they don’t even have specialized ship terminology on Davrar.
Her legs were dangling off the side of the Grace of the Mists, damp from the spray splashing up. Her focus was on the water below, especially the point where the prow cut through the ocean like a plow through earth.
Nathan took a seat next to her and watched the ocean for a little while. They were beyond the waves and islands of the coast and well into deep water. The weather was fine, and he could see to the horizon without any obstructions. Or - what would have been the horizon on Earth. On Davrar it didn’t look the same. Instead of a clear line separating the water and the sky, the ocean never seemed to end. It stretched into the far distance, visible until the haze of the air made the surface of the water blend with the vague clouds above.
I’ve suspected for a while that the surface of Davar curved up instead of down. The world overhead - the sayings of “Seeing your home overhead.” The night sky. Is Davrar a dyson sphere? The far side is way too close for it to be a proper dyson sphere, but I already know the sun’s not a real star. Davrar could be on the inside of a sphere.
He turned his head ninety degrees, studying the horizon off the side of the ship instead of directly ahead. It looked subtly different, though it was hard to tell.
Nathan turned towards Stella, breaking their companionable silence. “Do you have a stick? Something long and straight.”
She jumped slightly, surprised by his voice. Then she thought about a question for a moment. “Will a spellpole work?” She rifled through a dimensional bag before pulling out a long rod of metal, thin and absolutely straight. “It’s a teaching tool, for learning to precisely control mana flows. I haven’t used it in years.”
“Perfect.” Nathan took the rod and held it out at arms length, closing one eye and superimposing it over the horizon. It almost matched - but just almost. He rotated the pole ninety degrees from directly ahead to directly to the side. It took him a few more observations to be sure, but about ten degrees off from straight ahead the horizon curved down in both directions. Ninety degrees away from that that the horizon curved up in both directions, and the horizon was more defined. Ahead the horizon wasn't as clear, as if there was an infinite amount of water hiding beyond atmospheric distortion. The effect was very subtle, and mostly noticeable because the day was so clear.