Ocular to the Dying Sun

Dire-eater Fascination; part 2

Before he could plunge into the skies, which he most likely will never notice even if the strong winds slapped his chubby face, a dark-gloved hand covered the tiny ones that held the latch. Its pair patted his head as the child felt his body be pulled from the window. He heard a soft voice speak behind him, saying. “What is it, Ame? Do you see your favorite Moth-Rays*?”

Ame, the chubby child, looked away from the window and gazed at the man he knew as his father. Known to him as a dad, but to others as Captain Uran. Rifeus to those close to him. The sound of the winds from the outside stopped as his father closed the window. Fondly carrying him from the cushy window seat and then settling him on the sofa bed just beside it, he was laid there while the other children sat around, peacefully settled with their closed eyes and wriggly bodies.

Uran’s sleeping quarters within the captain’s cabin of the Sunflora are divided into two rooms, a type of guest lounge and his private quarters. Quite not so cozy on the scale, his work desk can be seen in a small corner of his room while the rest is a combination of accommodating and working area.

Though the ship is functional and self-sustained through its long run being used by the crew, it did not skimp on luxury for most residents that would live inside. This vessel serves as a home for a few people that’s lived their lives in what constitutes mercenary work.

That is not their main job though, to be mercenaries, what Uran and the previous captain of the Sunflroa crew envisioned for them, is to establish the engineering quality of airships infused with Slitark crystals. He is not the designer of this alchemic beauty, but the concept began and succeeded with his help in the long run.

However, money and labor go hand in hand, so off they are to do more miscellaneous work. Under no circumstance do they do pirate work, at least as legal pirate work as they can. For most of their “legal pirate work,” being able to hunt for unclaimed crystals instead of stealing them or escort missions, and transport requests is better than none.

The captain’s cabin guest lounge turned half day care for the remainder of the night due to the repairs of the crew’s quarters, adding more space for the families within the crew. Residential rooms are what most would dub it, like people renting in apartments with only one floor fit for all besides the kitchen and dining.

Tonight is no different than anything for Uran and the Sunflora crew. Part of their job is to hunt for Dire-eater and siphon where they are heading, and where the creature goes is surely a pot of Slitark crystals unclaimed. Uran left the cabin to see outside and watch the skies.

He’s currently at the empty quarter-deck, a level under the top deck where most of the crew spent their time. It’s covered by the sparkling shroud, feeling the breeze, and listening to the direction of the Dire-eater’s flight. He guessed from the distinguishable Kneada he can see, that they were heading to southern forest land, away from the central city. Knowing this, he knew that the odds of landing in the ceremonial barracks of the Ocular were more likely than he hoped for.

The place is well guarded during this season of the Oculars end, and because of that, they don’t ever get to enter the land, much less reach the part of the mountains. Not that he knew where the barracks specifically are since the place has a ton of pocket valleys filled with either body of water or forests. The land the barracks belong to cannot be entered without traveling through the mountains or over it, riding an airship. Added the aspect of the magical barrier it is covered by.

“Rife!” Someone called from one of the trap doors that lead to the hallway of the captain’s cabin. The head engineer, Rona, poked her head looking at Uran directly. “The engine’s crystal infusion is reacting erratically to strong light magic resonance. There’s no other place in this area that could get that reaction except for all the establishments where the Prime Magician works.”

“The Dire Mother we spotted is directly going there.” He said as he assessed the likeliness that they would get away with stealing Slitark shards in the barracks.

Though what did bother him was that the Mother’s trail, clouds around that form a path to where the Mother passed, belonged from the Dire-eater. “Seems like she spotted the barracks on her own and has been roaming around to guard it. How weirdly convenient.” He said after.

“Don’t you think it’s too early for any Dire-eater* to reach the barracks?” Rona asked as she looked over the part of the railings where she could view the sky downwards. “They say, the barracks during the end of the Ocular has strong magic enforced by the Academy so the Prime Magician could focus theirs all from finishing the shard cutting. Plus, who doesn’t want to rest after a day’s load of work? Won’t that mean problems can occur once Dire-eaters arrive?”

“It would,” he said while adjusting the cuff of his sleeves. The breeze felt through his arms, letting the sweat ease from his skin. He grabbed a rope from the side of the railing, then turned around to Rona.

“We can’t miss this opportunity though.” He said with a smirk, his hands busily fixing his gloves to wear since he removed them before checking on Ame. “There’s a chance for every turn and this time, we can say it’s luck that we get to witness the Prime Magicians fight Dire-eater, but what we want is the boon they leave on the battlefield. Who can’t resist witnessing the glory of a hero and catching the dregs of their fortune? At least in a good way.”

“Great, are you saying we wait for the government to defeat those creatures so we can sweep the floor?” Said Rona as she knocked on the hardwood floor and then smiled. “Well, we got to have our engines in top shape as we stealth our presence, eh?”

“Get on it, Rona. Tell your wife we need the gunners.” Climbing up the rope as he said those final words, he entered the top deck with a handful of the crew watching the skies below the ship. They eagerly watched as the Sunflora rode the winds, far from the distance of the Dire-eater Mother.

They whistle at how large she occupies the sky, like an omen that tells the evils of the world are coming, or a large worm wants to squash the ground. Either way, Mother is a sight to behold for the Sunflora crew. Most of them hung on the shroud as it shimmered in the light of the night. As the other men marveled at the impending new job in a few minutes, two men stood away from the edge speaking to each other.

They leaned on a few boxes and barrels stored at the side of the cannon covered by a kind of scaled cloth. Ropes bound onto metal hooks on the ground stretched taught as the wind blew from all directions following their flight. Lights from the night and the ship deck mixed played the shadows making their visage semi-clear.

One with goggles over his eyes, holding a mug filled with warm beer and wearing mud-dirty overalls, is named Erizoma the ever-loyal spearman. Steam escaped from the mug that danced in the wind hitting Erizoma’s face, and fogging up his goggles, but it didn’t hinder him from drinking his warm liquid in a chill manner.

The other ate a juicy snake-meat sandwich while spilling sauce on the side and over his handlebar mustache. He is called Lotois, but to most of the crew, his mustache is more popular than his name. The captain approached them while listening to the winds, his ears hearing the waves of the Dire-eater Mother’s fins flapping in conjunction with the flow and direction of the breeze.

They both looked up when they sensed Uran’s approach, obviously noticing his heavy stride on the wood floor. Lotois finished his sandwich in one large bite, and Erizoma finished his cup of warm beer.

“Rife, the breeze is off kilter tonight. Makes my nerves shoot up like a geyser. Don’t you think it’s a bit early to come along with the Dire-eater ride?” Said Lotois as he followed Uran to the middle near the mast. “We’ve also been hearing tons of explosions in the vicinity where the treasure loot is heading, not that our rivals aren’t a thing. That’s easier dealt with than a family of Dire-eaters.” Lotois paused before saying, “Please do not say we are heading into a field of new Slitark shard clump. That’s a pain in the ass to mine.”

The captain listened to the winds once more. Waves rippled through the curtains of the sky as the distinct swish of the Dire-eater Mother’s fins moved to curve its body and encircle the correct valley. There in the valley lay an expanse of forest large to house a city but isolated enough to avoid the rest of the world despite being easy to access through magical means.

The creature fell flat to another layer of the atmosphere, nearer to the tip of the mountains. The Dire-eater Mother screeched from its belly and lunged down as several spirals of tornado grew from the forest and up to the skies. Turning sharp winds into weapons that cut through scales and flesh, Dire-eaters of varying kinds became swept up from the force, sending them over Sunflora’s head.

Everyone on deck didn’t have time to react as Dire-eater Sprouts rained upon them. From the Shroud until the second layer of the top deck, the Dire-eater Sprouts, though injured, roamed freely in a wild haze from the tornado’s effect.

Hands swiped weapons within reach, Lotois his speargun, and Erizoma the sword leaning behind the barrel. Each member automatically went into battle, ready to protect their ship. Captain Uran was no exception, but his focus was not only on the several squirmy-looking stowaways. Climbing quickly onto the mid part of the mast, he pulled a rung that was a part of the ladder and bent the bar that formed into a crank. Without a moment’s, thought he shouted, “cover ground” and started moving his arms in circles to turn.

Jolts of light surged through the floorboards and into the Shroud, energizing it and successfully sending several electrical charges that passed in pulses just above the railings away from the ground where each crew member ducked down or lay on the ground. Nets of shimmer floated over their heads from the railings, crossing over from the front to the back of the deck. The effect intended added damage to the injuries of the Dire-eater Sprout, sending a few of them to coma or death by burning.

“The rest go back to your stations in the engine room,” shouted Uran as he slid down the mast, his gloves looking smart from the magical current from the light magic within the interior. “Lotois, Erizoma, get the escorts out. We need them on hand.”

Landing on the floor just in time as a Dire-eater Sprout sprung from its semi-stunned state. Drunkenly swaying, it tried holding its bearing steadily as it opened its mouth, to attack or to screech it did not matter anymore, a quick uppercut from Uran sent the creature’s jaws into a broken state. The dangling mouth half fell from its hinge when another attack, from a short harpoon, pierced it through the base of the broken jaw upward blowing a hole in its head.

Pulling the chord to retract the harpoon back to his gun, Lotois poised his stance as he watched Uran wrestle another Dire-eater Sprout while Erizoma made sure many of the creatures were dead by double tapping them with his sword.

“Ah, I just ate my sandwich.” He whispered as another Dire-eater Sprout was thrown off the side of the deck by the hands of Uran.

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