Day Forty-nine

Today I was awakened early to the sounds of commotion outside our rooms. Stump and Ahlek Norahm were first to the door, myself and the others of our quarters following behind as we became a part of a steady stream of men and women making for the upper deck. Something was happening above and was of sufficient interest that the decks below were emptying quickly. Within the throng I moved carefully, making the stairs to the upper deck before finding myself pushed into a pack of pointing arms and upturned heads.

In the morning light I could not at first see what it was that my compatriots were looking at. The sky above was a deep blue, only the wisps of high cloud tinged with orange marring its pristine field. The wind was steady but not the powerful bluster of the last days. It was still cold and in the spreading light it took me a moment to see what the commotion was all about. Against the dark shadows of the ship I was amazed to find that the rigging was on fire.

There was something wrong though. Quickly I looked left and right searching for any sign of the crew. All were standing fast, watching the display, making no attempt to douse the flames or cut down the burning ratlines. It was only then that I looked closer and could see that the rigging, and indeed the sails themselves, were not burning. Above me danced a conflagration of blue-white flame, that jumped between the ratlines and run up the stays to the yards, before dissipating into the air above. It was like flame but not; too fast to be burning, yet as volatile and energetic as any fire I had ever seen. The air was charged with a powerful energy and I could smell with each breath that same smell one might find with the approach of a thunderstorm. I have never seen anything like it.

For a few minutes longer the strange display danced amongst the rigging above us before fading into the morning brightness. I was entranced by it, the sheer power and speed of its flickering energy coursing up the rigging lines before expanding out into the air above the masts. Of all the people watching though only one was smiling. For us all it was an awesome spectacle that had us staring into the air, trying to fathom the nature of what we were seeing. For Stump though it was as if he was welcoming an old friend, and he seemed unaware as to how different his response was from the rest of us. He knew something about the strange phenomena and I was determined to find out what that was.

While the crowd remained thick upon the deck I pushed my way to Stump's side and asked him directly what the flickering lights were. To my surprise he told me without hesitation. To the peoples of the North they were known as the Fires of Ayari, a potent symbol of the power of the wind gods to change the destiny of men. For his people such displays were always a good omen, a sign that something positive was about to impact on lives overwhelmed by desperation and hardship. He said that we were about to have good fortune visited upon us all. I can only say that I hope he is right.

The display of the Fires of Ayari have been the talk of the ship for the remainder of the day. And in those discussions I have heard a witches brew of superstition and fact melding together to confuse and misinform, until no one was sure what they might have seen, or give good reason for its appearance. I kept what the northerner had said to me close though. If indeed we are to be visited with good fortune it will be appreciated all the more if it is not expected.

Maps of the voyage
The Chronicles of Arborell
A Glossary of Terms