Writings of an Owlmoose

Summary: Paine’s first night on the Celsius.

Notes: Written for 30_fantasies, Theme #17: Airship. My first story written for that community.

Metadata: Gen. Rated PG, 1232 words. First posted in June 2006.

---

Darkness, Dawn

I opened my eyes and I was flying into the sunrise, a dark red-orange-pink smudge of light ringing the horizon. Shaking myself awake, I sat up in the pilot’s chair, where I had been dozing, in order to get a better look.

While giving me the grand tour, Buddy had told me that the Celsius found a place to park most nights, on Bikanel or some deserted island if convenient, along an out-of-the-way piece of coastline otherwise. But we had gotten a late start from Luca, and we were due on Bikanel by morning. So on this trip, the airship would fly overnight. “We do that every so often. But you’ll get used to sleeping on a moving ship,” he had promised me. “The autopilot is really smooth. Although– you don’t get seasick, do you?” His brow furrowed with this sudden new worry.

I had raised an eyebrow at him. “Would I have joined the only sphere hunters in Spira who travel on an airship if that was going to be a problem?” He’d laughed, then moved on to the next topic.

Still, this first night I had been unable to settle into sleep. Maybe it was the constant drone of the engines, or the unfamiliarity of the ship’s motion, or the rustling and snuffling noises as Rikku, the most restless sleeper in the known universe, tossed and turned in the bunk next to mine. Or maybe it was just anticipation, my mind churning with excitement at the prospect of actually getting out there and searching for spheres, and hopefully finding some answers, not to mention my first trip back to Bikanel since… It felt like I lay in that bed for hours, hands crossed over my chest, staring up at the ceiling, trying and failing to relax. Eventually, I had given it up as a bad job and made my way down to the bridge.

Whenever I had been shipped from one place to another, first as a Crusader and then during my time with the Crimson Squad, I had preferred to sleep up on deck, where I could hear the waves against the hull and become a part of the rushing wind. I didn’t feel secure going outside in the dark just yet, so I decided to head for the bridge, where I might see stars and ocean more easily than through the tiny windows of the cabin. Maybe I could find a little more peace there.

The bridge had been dark and quiet but for engine noise and a few indicator lights, glowing and flashing in what I hoped were their proper patterns. Buddy was there, working at the console where Rikku normally sat, and he turned around to greet me. “Hey Paine. What brings you down here?”

Nerves, curiosity, a loud bunkmate, a restless mind. “Couldn’t sleep,” I said.

“So you came down here. Woman after my own heart.” He stretched, then stood and walked over to me. “Can you keep an eye on things for a sec? Brother’s starting his shift soon, so I figure since you’re here I’d go tap him on the shoulder now.”

“How hard is it?” I asked impulsively. “Keeping watch?”

“It’s easy.” Buddy nodded to the panel he had just been tapping. “Just make sure the autopilot doesn’t short out. And correct course if anything gets in our way, but since we fly higher than birds and Cid’s airship is the only other one in the skies, the chances of that happening are really remote. Why? You want to take a turn?”

I shrugged. “The rest of the night, even. If you don’t mind. I’m awake anyway, right?”

He looked at me, then grinned. “Okay, sure. Thanks. On behalf of everyone, really; you don’t want to see Brother when he hasn’t had his beauty rest. Alarms will sound if anything goes really wrong, and I’ll be right here. Okay?” I indicated assent, and he sauntered off the bridge, leaving me alone with four empty chairs.

Four empty chairs, each awaiting its proper occupant: Pilot. Navigator. Engineer. Captain. Resting my hand lightly on the back of Shinra’s seat, I let memories overwhelm me for one bittersweet moment. Then, with a hard swallow and a shake of my head, I let go and made my way to the pilot’s chair, where I sat down to watch the console and the scenery. I had intended to keep alert, but before long the pulse of the machina engine and the hypnotic glow of moonlight on waves had lulled me, if not to sleep, at least into a calm stupor, and I’d finally been able to quiet my brain and rest.

Now, who knew how many hours later, brought fully awake by the early glimmers of light, I leaned back to enjoy my first sunrise as seen from the air. Most of the sky was still the deep blue-black of night, the sun still just a promise below the horizon. I looked down and saw an expanse of white — a snow field? Were we over Macalania, or some northern island? No, I suddenly realized, not snow. Clouds. And I thrilled at the sight, at the evidence that I was so far above the world, no longer tied to it, flying free.

The sky continued to lighten as I watched, midnight blue slowly transforming into its brighter daytime shade, starting around the edges formed by the horizon and spreading into the domed expanse. The ocean was getting lighter, too, as it picked up the light of the sky, and I could start to make out the foam of individual whitecaps again. The orange band broadened and faded into pink. All these changes were so gradual that I couldn’t have said when it stopped being night and started being dawn, but then the first sliver of sun made its appearance, a slip of brightness off to the right, so bright it made me blink.

Completely engrossed in the sight, I still knew right away when I was no longer alone, the mechanical whisper of the door sliding open behind me giving away Rikku’s presence, even as she walked up to me with nearly silent footsteps. She stopped on the platform by my side and looked out over the ocean. “Pretty, huh?”

“Yeah.” I braced myself for more commentary, having already learned that Rikku tended to fill up any silence with far too many words for my tastes, but it never came. She just stood there, watching with a serene expression as the pink light glinted in her golden hair, and so I relaxed, turning my attention back to the sun. Every second it grew a little brighter, and before long I couldn’t look directly at it anymore. The sky was almost totally day-colored now, the reds of dawn faded into the perfectly cloudless heavens.

After a few minutes, Rikku grinned down at me. “I never get tired of that,” she said.

I smiled back. “I can see why.”

“Yup. Want some breakfast? It should be ready by now.” She bounced back on her heels with a laugh. “Your first breakfast with the Gullwings!”

“Sure.” With one last glance at the sun, which had broken completely free of the horizon, its rays dancing and glittering over the ocean waves, I stood and followed Rikku off the bridge, ready to face whatever this sphere hunting gig might bring me.