The interior of the Myridea was easy on the eyes. The floor was made of the same wood as the deck with portholes along the hull to let the sunshine in. On the aft half of the Myridea there was a bar with seven seats and a few tables before it. Behind it was a kitchen where delicious scents were already wafting from. Some dwarves were already mingling near the bar, eager to whet their parched throats. There was an open space surrounded by wooden railings in the middle of the room observing another meeting area filled with couches and coffee tables and surrounded by doors leading into cabins for the passengers and crew. The carpets on that deck were navy and the walls were a clean off white cream. Most passengers were already retiring to their rooms after lengthy travel. A few of the men and women from the Ordo Sanctus Domini were sitting in a tight group on the couches. 
	Phoenix rubbed her temples, “I wish I had a bit more warning that we were going to be exposed to large amounts of aether.” 
	“Are you going to be alright?” Reece asked, “You can always take some of my mana. Not like I’m using it.”
	Graxon shook his head, “Always so bold, my boy. Even in front of Baldwin?” The dwarf teased.
	The sudden jesting made the boy quiet down and his face turn red. Baldwin looked between the satyr, dwarf, and then the human, “Is the sharing of mana… something intimate?”
	Phoenix gestured for everyone to sit down, “No more intimate than holding hands. I don’t do it often, but as a proper sorceress, I have excellent control over my mana and the mana around me. You know what mana is, right?” Baldwin shrugged, completely unsure of his own knowledge. Phoenix smiled, “Well, it's the… energy within you that allows you to interact with the various natural energies in the world around you. My mana is flame aspected, same as my mother, so a lot of my magic comes out as flames. As I am so adept, I can pull the mana out of the air around me rapidly. Most do it automatically to replenish their mana like eating to replenish your physical energies. I can take it from people as well, but having a drink of wine is my preferred way.”
	“Why alcohol? Why not another drink? Potions?” Baldwin continued his questioning.
 Phoenix was glad he was invested enough to ask, “Alcohol speeds up the natural production of mana and is cheaper than potions. Much slower, mind you, but outside of a combat scenario, some wine or liquor is good enough.”
	“I… See,” Baldwin scratched his head, “I don’t know a lot about the arcane. Is a sorcerer different than a witch?”
	The satyr crossed one leg over the other and smirked, “Well, a witch is not an official type of caster. Wizards and sorcerers are the arcane casters while people like Bardanver are holy casters who get their magic from a higher power.”
“Don't let him hear you call it magic,” Graxon warned. 
Phoenix shrugged and continued, “Paladins, clerics, priests. A caster may call themselves a witch or be called one as a simple title like Maxine Hamilton is called the Black Witch or Mad Witch.”
“Those don't seem like very good titles,” Baldwin remarked warily.
Phoenix narrowed her eyes, “Yes, the church and others have used that term for evil casters. Frankly I can see why my mother would avoid such titles. I know your next question. A wizard has a very neutral aspected mana bank. They can learn most any spell and cast it with a wand or staff and they write them down in their arcane tomes. A sorcerer on the other hand has an element or type of spell sort of, built in, to their mana. All of their spells are dependent on their emotional state. A sorcerer without control of their mana and who is highly emotional could quite literally explode and burn brighter than any fire known to man. It's happened before.” She looked around, “And the talk of magicks has summoned him!”
	Approaching the table was a smartly dressed man in black robes, the top of which looked like a two piece suit with a forest green tie and white undershirt. His skin was a dark brown with a head full of darker frizzy hair and a pair of all black eyes on his thin, long face. He bowed for the satyr and dwarf, “How do you do, friends?”
	Baldwin spotted his cut down horns amongst his head of curly, puffy hair. His eyes were all black making it difficult to tell exactly where he was looking.
	“Baldwin,” Graxon gestured to the orc, “This is Red Hawk. An old friend of mine and researcher for the Hamilton Foundation. Red Hawk, Baldwin is a monk being mentored by your other favorite dwarf.”
	Red Hawk, while staying polite, sighed wearily, “I should have known master Bardanver would be here. Greetings and good day, Baldwin.”
	“Hail,” The orc replied, quickly shaking the elf’s hand. His large, three fingered and calloused green hands were careful not to crush or injure the elf in any way.
	Graxon turned to his protege, “Take our luggage to the cabin, would you?” Reece nodded.
	“I’ll see about getting you a drink when I return,” The boy added.
	“Good lad.”
	The elf sat at the table with Graxon, Phoenix, and Baldwin. It was quiet on the deck as a few groups milled about and waited for something to drink or eat, “What was Phoenix filling your ears with before I arrived?”
	The satyr grinned, “Oh, just speaking about sorcery and wizardry. Baldwin here is curious about aether. You are Lady Hamilton’s go-to on the subject. Reece interviewed you extensively in his journal.”
	“A well written article,” Graxon nodded, “As I recall, you were upset he also interviewed the Ironstones.”
	Red Hawk nodded, “The Ironstones have made great strides in the field, but their penchant for warmachines diminishes aether’s possible uses in humanitarian fields. Baldwin, aether is a magnificent resource that came about in the new world. Most of Australia used to be an uninhabitable desert, but while the rest of the earth opened up and released mana, the wastes turned into a lush jungle due to crystals called aether forming beneath the sands. They were rather quickly processed for the purpose of energy production. Their half-life is incredibly long, but that rate speeds up the further you get from the jungle.”
	“Half-life?” The orc repeated inquisitively. 
	“Simply put: it is the time it takes for a material to decay, magical or otherwise. When that time is up, the aether turns into nothing. The Ironstones were amongst the first to develop ways of extending that half-life outside of the jungles. It was as simple as using a specially tuned frequency to keep them from shaking to bits. Speaking of magic, aether lets off a field that counteracts mana. I could hardly cast a spell aboard this vessel due to these fields,” He chuckled, “I am sure your holy magicks would be unaffected.”
	Baldwin cocked his head, “I am surprised to see an elf even acknowledge His powers.”
	Again Red Hawk chuckled for a moment and shook his head, “I am not a city elf, my friend. Wild elves are a bit more in tune with Christian powers, though we are not all believers. I am not wholly opposed to the Ordo Sanctus Domini either. The Franco-elves brought your crusades and conflict upon themselves. Even in the Old World, those peoples needed to be brought down a few pegs. They pretend to have divine right to the Great Crack and all of Western Europe. Sorry, listen to me prattle on and on.”

	-

	Anjana, a popular trading town between the floating islands, was the furthest south settlement in all of Avalon. Many would come to do their business here and send cargo deeper into Avalon or out into the rest of the Highlands. Zyra gazed at its stone walls. They were imposing, but not nearly as imposing as the capital’s. The Queen’s growth initiative was active even here with small, strong vessels powered by avalite rudders towing loose islands closer to the major city. This was the southernmost town in Avalon with a healthy population and farms on smaller islands outside its walls. Rope bridges connected them to the main town where farmers could bring their crops in. Like every town, there were trees bearing delicious, sweet fruit planted anywhere the people could plant them. 
	Zyra stood alone at the front of the shipping vessel. The small contingent she was traveling with had turned the once useful cargo ship into a passenger transport. Zyra didn’t see the point, she could easily rest amongst barrels and crates when hitching a ride. These posh ambassadors and representatives couldn’t go five minutes without comfort. Zyra at least appreciated the booze on board. The Lion ran her fingers through her hair. It was now shoulder length but still looked like a wild mane with long bangs coming down to right above her eyes and long locks streaming down the sides of her head. Her tall, furred ears twitched in the soft breeze. She wore a well pressed doublet that hugged her muscular form, its threads a salmon color under a gray, wool-lined vest. A black belt with a green metal buckle was wrapped around her waist and a pair of black leather shorts clung to her muscular legs. The sandals she wore were a similar black and wrapped up her furred ankles. Shouldering her brown knapsack and making her way off the vessel and onto the docks, Zyra waved at some of the dock workers who stopped their loading and unloading the stare at the seven foot tall woman who ambled down the docks. They were quick to get out of her way as many, if not all would do. Pausing near the walls, Zyra looked towards the sun. A black sky broken only by a single bright light in the sky. Contrasting that, the blue and green Earth sat below with white streaks obfuscating its surface. She could still hardly believe anything lived down there. The surface glowed at night, she had always guessed it was burning. Those white streaks had to be smoke, afterall. The Queen had said the peoples weren’t that much different than them, but Zyra was incredulous. She continued to traipse into the town.
	Anjana was like any other, stone walls with guards wearing cloth and wool gambesons at the entrance arches. They let the Lion through as she gave them a smile. The streets were less dense than the Capital, but people still slid past one another with their sleek, wool-lined cloaks of various colors. Vibrant patterns, family crests, multiple town’s heraldry, and many other configurations were all on display. The alleys of bright blue wooden buildings were lined with planters each full of sweet smelling flowers or bushes bearing small fruits and berries. The flat roofs held even more shrubs and even a few small trees that cast a pleasant shade across the stoney streets. It wasn’t hot, it never got hot in the Highlands, but it was a pleasant warmth contrasted with the usual frigid cold. Perfect for a cat nap on an open roof or a lonely bench. She had time to kill, afterall. Nothing really mattered until the Low Land ambassadors arrived. 
	“Zyra!” A grouping of children had congregated while the Lion was deep in thought.
	Humans and avalonians, each eager to offer the giant a different fruit. A small smile crept across Zyra’s face as she recognized a few of them, “Fruit for me?” She took a few of them as the children nodded, “Ah, you wanna hear my stories then?” They nodded more eagerly, “Well, just for you kids. Now, what to tell you. Ah, I was out East, near Manghao. A small town, but they had requested aid in fending off their trolls. Since I was nearby, the Queen sent me,” The children sat on the stone path as they listened to the Lion speak. Adults found themselves stopping their daily chores to listen too, “As soon as I get there, the guard were fighting and holding off…” She paused as if trying to remember how many there were, “Four or five of them. They were trying to steal food and animals. I get in the thick of it, I slice one up with my sword, bash another with a barrel, claw the third’s eyes out. The last two turn white in the face of death and beg for mercy. They might be big, but they listen to strength. ‘Take me to your chieftain,’ I tell ‘em. They like to ride those small islands with their magicks, so I follow ‘em in a boat. They’re living on an island where they had eaten even the trees down to the roots. I walked right up to their chief, told him to leave. And when he stuck out his gut and started to laugh, I gave him one of these!” Zyra swung at the air with her massive fist. “Right in the gut!” She let out a laugh, “And he doubles over and starts blubberin’ and cryin’. Right in front of the others, I give him another! Right in the eye! A black eye to remember the Lion by!” The crowd murmured amongst themselves, nodding in approval as smiles spread across their faces, “Manghao’ll never have to deal with those trolls again.”
	The crowd begged Zyra for more, her wild tales something new in their otherwise ordinary lives. They asked her to visit their shops, their bars, and even their homes. Each just as eager to show Avalon’s hero their hospitality.
	“Alright, alright. I’ll be in town for a few days. At least until the Lowlanders show up.”
	“Lowlanders?” A child asked.
	“Aye, people from the land below are coming to see us and our Queen,” Zyra’s smile faltered a bit, unsure of what to make of it still, then she smiled again, not wanting the others to worry, “Let us drink until then!”

-

	Reece did his best to appear calm and nonchalant as he stared at the open door that led deeper into the Myridea’s hull. The bottom deck. He could hear the purring hum of the engines coming up the stairs as it reverberated off the corridor’s metal walls. The other passengers didn’t pay the boy much mind as they milled about on the couches or went to and from their cabins. The rooms were a bit cramped, two bunk beds with a pair of couches and a coffee table between them. A small sink with glass cups sat at the back of the room. Reece would have liked a kitchenette, but wasn’t sure it would be wise for such a small room.
	Journal in one hand and a camera hanging around his neck, Reece continued to do his best not to look stressed and overly curious. A voice nearly made him jump out of his skin, “I was told there wouldn’t be any journalists.”
	Turning quickly, Reece found himself face to face with a small cohort of individuals. He recognized the halfling in naval uniform, Carlisle, one of the ship's mates. He had dirty blonde hair and a portly stature. Like all halflings, his face was rather childlike with thin eyebrows and round, kind eyes. Second was another naval officer, this one the admiral that Graxon had spotted earlier. A human man with a short black beard and a clean cut haircut. He was older, wearing a full dress uniform, a black suit with a white cap. Lastly was an avalonian that Reece could easily identify, “Ambassador Sebastian,” He greeted with a small nod and a polite smile.
	The older avalonian man smiled back. He was dressed in a red suit with a black tie and white undershirt. Like Phoenix, he was a hoofed avalonian but with dark brown hair and a pair of diamond shaped ears atop his head and a long, braided tail coming from his rear, “He’s not a journalist, Admiral. His eyes are much too honest.”
	“I– I prefer the term chronologist,” He jested, “Reece M Gawain, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. It makes sense they would send you after your success with the Hermiston Armistice.”
	The ambassador was quick to offer a hand which the boy gladly shook, “I couldn’t pass up on the chance to see my ancestral homeland. It's always a pleasure to meet a fan.”
	With that charming smile on his handsomely tanned face, Reece instantly knew why he was called the King of Hearts. A title he readily played into as made apparent by the crimson stitching on his tie in the shape of playing cards. Carlisle cleared his throat, “A pleasure to meet you, Mister Gawain. Second Mate Carlisle, at your service. Did you ever read his dissertation on aether, Mister Sebastian? He speaks about your work on the treaty in the later half. It is a rather well put together dramatical retelling of a historically significant event.”
	“Can’t say that I have. I don’t have much time for reading, unfortunately. I’ll have to put it on my list.”
	The Admiral cleared his throat, “Can we get a move on?”
	“Of course, Admiral Bradford,” Carlisle gestured toward the stairs deeper into the hull, “Why not come along, Mister Gawain? I’m sure you’re interested.”
	“I am,” He quickly admitted. Bradford’s expression suggested a hint of annoyance as he descended into the hull of the vessel.
“I’m always surprised to meet someone familiar with my work,” Reece mused aloud.
	Carlisle grinned, “Well, I wanted to read about the ambassador and your writing seemed like the best fit. Just so happened that Nora gushed about your work when she saw you on the manifest. Don’t be surprised if she asks you to sign a book. I know it has a basis in reality, but the part where you describe how America made a show of force by bringing their own MUTTs to the peace talks made quite the impression. And showing off how the International Mages Assembly could bypass most forms of aether with their magic really drove home that the Australian government was no longer untouchable.”
	“It wasn’t nearly as much of a spectacle in reality,” Reece admitted.
	The ambassador laughed, “Maybe not, but those definitely helped in Australia agreeing to the restructuring of their military into a smaller defense force.”
	Stepping into the lower deck, each of the engineers and deck hands stood at attention and saluted before the Admiral who was glad to salute back. He looked a bit peeved as two people stood back with their arms folded. Unlike the rest, this gremlin and human did not wear the white and navy uniforms the others did. The human was in jeans and a jacket while the gremlin wore cargo pants, a tunic, and a leather apron. The engine room was long and thin with rolling doors on either side where the cargo was stored. A set of black metal piping was built into the floor with gauges next to every other storage room. Reece was eager to get to the middle of the room where the main generators were, but held himself back as the Admiral glowered at the human and gremlin.
	“We’re not navy,” The gremlin reminded him, “So stop trying to give me that.”
	Ambassador Sebastian quickly stepped in, “She’s right, Admiral. But she could be a bit nicer about it,” He said diplomatically, “A pleasure to see you again, Missus Ironstone,” He moved on before the Admiral could voice his complaints.
	The gremlin nodded, “And you’ve brought the author with you! Looks like you’re finally proper drinkin’ age, huh?”
	Reece nodded, “Yes I am, Pin. I’m glad you two have recovered since the Hermiston incident.”
	“Took a bit o’ time,” Pin sheepishly admitted, “But with the influx of aether into the States after the treaty, it was easy enough to make breakthroughs. Kept more Australians from trying to kill us, too.”
	Admiral Bradford shook his head and motioned for the rest of the crewmen to be at ease, “Give me an update. Is the Myridea flying as smoothly as the Captain would have me believe?”
	The gremlin nodded as the group approached, “Each chunk of aether is running even cooler than we had expected. Probably ‘round thirty percent maximum output. Well within optimal operatin’ parameters. Efficiency is a little under ninety percent, but we’ll get that ironed out.”
	Reece took a closer look at the controls that were central to the vessel. A wide board of levers, knobs, gauges, and buttons that glowed in the overhead lights. Three black pipes, about a foot across each, sat behind it with a section that could be lifted or pulled away. The human with the gremlin wandered over, “Wanna see the aether, Reece?”
	The boy nodded excitedly before composing himself, “Of course, Jack. How’s the Black Tiger doing?” He caught whiffs of metal, oil, and ozone in the air. Much less pleasant than the decks above and yet it did nothing to curb his enthusiasm.
	The middle-aged man grinned, “Kicks as much ass as she did four years ago. There’s a reason she’s the prime example of an American made MUTT. Take a peek at this,” He undid a latch on the piping and pulled the panel away to reveal a crystalline container that held a piece of aether, a blue and white shimmering gem cut to the size of a softball with numerous streams of energy coming off of its smooth surface. The rest of the engine crew were checking dials and gauges while the deck hands grabbed boxes out of storage to take elsewhere.
	Pin stood on a stool, otherwise she stood at only three feet and seven inches, “We’ve got three pieces of the biggest aether anyone has ever seen powering the Myridea,” She explained.
	“Like your MUTT design, the power moves along these pipes faster than the wires the Aussies used,” Reece noted and jotted down his notes, “That’s part of how Black Tiger could be much larger and stronger.”
	“Right,” Jack nodded and closed the hatch. Reece only realized after how much heat the aether let off once it was sealed away again. The human man walked stiffly due to a back injury before collapsing into a leather chair. He was older than Reece, easily in his late thirties with short cut black hair and a thin face with a few scars across his cheeks. His brown eyes looked at a slate as he went over the details. Pin looked back at the General who was chatting with some of her subordinates. The gremlin was short for a goblinoid with emerald green hair that was pulled back into a very messy ponytail. Her long furred ears on the side of her head twitched as she adjusted a dial and muttered about too much steam outlet in dwarven.
	Reece chuckled, “Are they giving you a hard time?” He asked in the same dwarven tongue.
	“We’re doing lots of training. I’m being pulled every which way. I can’t wait to smoke and have a drink tonight,” She replied with a scowl, “And now I have this Admiral Bradford breathing down my neck. Don’t ever make any great work that the military and government are interested in, kid.”
	“I’ll have to have a drink with you later,” The boy replied with a grin.
	Jack looked between the two, unable to understand the conversation but could easily tell how ticked off his wife was. The only word of dwarven he recognized was the one for ‘alcohol’ or ‘drink.’ Ambassador Sebastian took a look at the controls and shook his head, “This is way beyond me,” He admitted to the man.
	“No shame in that. I’m just here to drive the worker MUTT on board,” Jack chuckled, “Pin is the mastermind here.”
	“Damn right I am,” She grunted in English and began to fiddle with levers and dials. Some of the engineers watched with wide eyes as if she was working in an unknowable and long since dead arcane script to interface with an unknowable power. They weren’t too wrong, Reece figured. These machines were complicated even if they were just moving heat, energy, and steam across the Myridea. He doubted he could figure it out himself without training, “Come take a look at the rest of my work,” Pin got off the stool, “Try to bring that dial into the yellow,” She ordered and pointed with a gloved finger, “Like I’m sure you’ve assumed, Reece, we’re working with magitech and artifice. The aether’s limitless energy is routed around the ship, power, conjuring water, disposing of waste, heat.” She gestured to a collection of pipes that went up into the ceiling, “You can’t see ‘em here but there is a collection of magitech slates to do these processes automatically. Uh, mister ambassador, think of them like a magical ring. That ring is powered by its own little source of mana to do whatever effect is inscribed onto it. But at a much bigger scale. At the rear o’ the boat, we have this slate.”
	Reece gazed at the ceiling where numerous pipes went in and out of a large, black stone slate with many runes etched upon its surface. They glowed a soft blue, “Is this for lift or for the wind?”
	“The winds that propel us,” She replied proudly, “A work o’ my own design. At the front is the one for zero grav. You probably felt it when we started it up.”
	“Ah,” Sebastian looked a little flustered, “That must’ve been why I nearly lost my lunch. Is it your own design as well?”
	“Nah, the Aussies came up with it first. They were using it for some bigger MUTT carryin’ airships. I just scaled it up. We’ve got three different chunks o’ aether, each one able to cover for the others, powering each of these three sections. They were talkin’ about using four, but that much extra power might o’ blown this whole vessel up!” The gremlin laughed while the avalonian man looked rather pale, “I would have liked a slate to generate alcohol at the push of a button, but they said no. Just to put a bar in the common area! Imagine how impressive it would o’ been to push a button and a glass instantly filled with the tastiest rum and cola you’ve ever had.”
	“I think it might lose a bit of its appeal without the mixologist’s touch. Not nearly as classy,” Ambassador Sebastian disagreed.
	Reece shook his head with a smile on his face, “I think some could have been awed by how far our tech has come. Water to wine and all that. A shame,” Despite how anxious he was earlier, seeing some familiar faces put him at ease. 
	Sebastian started to prattle on about the intricacies of mixed liquor while Pin rebutted with her preference for a simple ale. Reece idly checked his watch, “Ah, shoot. I was supposed to return to Graxon.”
	“That old dwarf is still around?” Pin joked, “Well, go have a drink for me, kid.”
	“Fare thee well,” Sebastian nodded, “I will see you later, I am sure.”
	Reece gave a small wave and hurried back to the stairs and headed back to the bar, kicking himself that he never got any photos but figured he would have another chance.

	In the early morning, Reece lay staring at the ceiling of his cabin. Graxon slept below him and Phoenix on the other side of the room behind a curtain that they set up to cordon off half the room. As quietly as he could, Reece climbed down the ladder and put his clothes on along with a thick jacket. It was the third day of traveling via the Myridea. Anxiety and weariness gripped him as he stepped out from the cabin. The door reacted to a simple touch, unlocking for him as it detected who he was and locking automatically behind him. A few of the representatives from the Ordo Sanctus Domini were up and praying in the common area. He quietly moved up to the second deck where one of the crew was preparing the bar for the day.
	“Coffee?” Reece requested.
	The bartender gave him a sheepish smile, “I’ll have a pot going in a minute.”
	Deciding to return later, Reece nodded and went up to the top deck. It was very cold, but surprisingly above zero. Reece wasn’t a meteorologist, but from what he had gathered from Red Hawk, in the upper stratosphere the atmosphere was thin enough that enough sunshine got through to raise the temperature to the high twenties or even low thirties. It had to be mid twenties at the moment, the boy estimated. The deck was empty, leaving him to take any seat he wanted amongst the metal tables and chairs. Near the railing, the blue crystals let off air and heat to make the seating rather comfortable as he gazed at the dimming stars overhead and then the blue planet below. Reece had seen the Earth from space in photos taken by wizards on the moon, but being this high up and seeing the curvature of the planet illuminated by the sun rise was something to behold. The dark surface was lit up by lights, presumably cities, as the sunshine crept across the surface illuminating the mountains’ white peaks and shining its glow across the blue lakes and oceans across the country. Again, he wished he had his camera to get a photo.
	The soft clunk of a cup being set in front of him made him jump.
	“I didn’t mean to startle you!” The woman who now sat across from him chuckled, “Third Mate Nora,” She introduced herself, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance Reece. O-Or do you prefer Mister Gawain?”
	The avalonian woman was petite and probably in her early thirties. She was cute by any measure and meekly smiled at the boy. Her canine ears stood alert atop her head with fur crawling down the sides of her head to where a human’s ears would be. Her gray hair was pulled back into a bun. The cute canine woman’s tail wagging put him at ease. He stifled a chuckle as he figured Phoenix was right: he was weak to avalonian girls. Coming back to reality, Reece shook his head, “Reece is fine. It's my name and all. Thank you,” He wrapped his frigid digits around the ceramic cup.
	“Sugar? Creamer?”
	“Yes, please. Er, both.”
	A few moments passed as the boy mixed the sweeteners into his drink. He sipped on his cup as the avalonian woman stared at her own.
	“Do you…” She trailed off, “What do you make of this? Of Avalon?”
	Reece looked up, wondering when the islands would come into view, "It's all so hard to believe. Everest is only six miles high, and people get killed there all the time due to the harsh conditions. Thirty miles? When they came to this world, someone had to know exactly what to do. Wizards– Druids maybe, could only make air, heat, water, for so long. I know it's warmer than Everest, but what air would they be breathing?” He stared out at the Earth, “Like the Myridea does, they must have some way of producing air.”
	“Are you going to be writing about this?”
	Reece hadn’t thought about this too much. He shrugged slowly, “Perhaps. I’ve been taking notes about the Myridea, maybe I’ll write about Myridea. Argh, the islands, I mean.”
	Nora giggled, “I get it. Would you–” She gently touched the back of his hand with her fingers. Reece didn’t flinch, making her feel emboldened and fully touched his hand with her palm, “S-sign a book for me?” She pulled a thick book out of the inner pocket of her coat.
	Reece nodded, “Of course. Excited to see Avalon?”
	“I think so. I want to feel that I am, but my heart is so full of anxiety,” She handed the book over.
	Reece, being prepared, brought out a pen and signed the inside. ‘For Nora. Thanks for the coffee.’ “I don’t see this one often,” He mused as he ran his fingers over the cover of On Christ and Elves. A recounting of the rise of the Ordo Sanctus Domini as the elves were trying to strongarm Christians out of Europe. It had only been six years after the Cracking when they formed in response to the persecution, “The elves don’t like it either,” The boy chuckled to himself.
	“I’ve always been fond of it,” She smiled back, “I know it's heavily based on real events, but that part you added where the elves were planning on attacking the Holy See? Oh, it's a wonderful story. I never really liked the elves after what they did to my grandparents in Europe.”
	Reece didn’t dare explain that had been confirmed as a truth in recent years, “It would have been terrible if they had attacked the Vatican, yes. My condolences about your family.”
	“Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say it.”
	Reece returned to his drink as Nora ran her fingers over his signature. The lines between friendly avalonian and crazed fan were blurring a bit. She was simply eccentric, he mused and left it at that. He looked out over the side of the Myridea, “Look at that,” He gasped. Large chunks of rocks were now floating by. The sound of the rocks bumping off of the vessel’s reinforced stem reverberated across the rest of the hull. Curiosity gripped the boy, making him reach out and snatch a relatively small stone from the air. Dark brown rock with some water frozen to it sat coolly in his hands. It was similar to the soil on Earth in every way, yet here it was floating thirty miles high. Perhaps there was some small detail unseen by the naked eye that could be gleaned? “Do we have a geologist on board?”
	“Yes! I believe so. Any dwarf can eat a bit and tell you about it, I’m sure,” She giggled at her own joke.
	Reece thought Graxon might laugh at that too, though he had never seen the old dwarf do that. The boy stood as another sight came into view. In the early morning the sun had begun to cast its light across terra firma, unveiling the land they sought before them. A collection of islands suspended in the air, plucked from time and placed here, hanging like windchimes. Trees grew on many of the islands with their roots digging into the semi loose rocks and dirt and holding it all together. Houses sat amongst the trees on a few of the islands. Their roofs were flat and grew either trees or small garden crops. Brown stone walls stood tall above them surrounding a sizable town, the clay buildings decorated with beautifully colored wood shingles in hues of blues and purples, smoke billowing out from their chimneys. Avalon was real, uhe could see it with his own eyes.