In days of old,
There were legends told,
Of a madman with a plan,
Godly power with a man’s heart,
Lost his home, lost his kin,
Last of the Star men, the on-coming storm
That impossible man, that impossible ship,
Gomorrah’s last child, the brightest star,
He made the darkness tremble, worlds shake,
Brought down armies with a mere word,
But then he left, without a word,
God speed the madman.
A dusty old crystal blinked a dim light into existence. It chimed as the light pulsed, a familiar pattern an accustomed beat. The noise resonated, echoed out, calling to him. One two, one two. The light grew in intensity as the dun dum of the drum grew.
“No!” His voice was full of excitement, wonder and disbelief. Killian leapt across his impossible bridge. His boots pounded down a spiralling copper staircase, his slender arms braised him against the wall of the ship as he bounced along to the cargo deck. A silver wand danced in his fingers as he identified the ancient chest he was looking for. It burst open in a flash of purple light, the light pulsed with each beat. “You beauty!” The Novella exclaimed loudly to no one at all.
Laughing as he went; the madman made his way back to the controls on the bridge of his impossible airship. He thrust the crystal into the console, and connected it in. The control console was hexagonal and filled with a hundred levers, scrying crystals, dials and odd scientific crystals. In the centre was a column of clear diamond that contained the soul of the airship, a mysterious cloud of golden energy.
He ran his hands through his messy brown hair as he franticly ran around the machine, checking co-ordinates here, checking stabilisers there. The ship’s magical engine roared into life, its mechanical wheeze was music to Killian’s ears. “Locked in!” The star man explained to no one, it had been years since he had travelled with a companion, but he was painfully lonely, and it helped.
A devil may care grin plastered across his face, his hand found the last control he needed. A long lever, hip height with a handle big enough for two hands. Killian took a deep breath and slammed the lever down.
The engines thundered as the Hullaballoo was hurtled through the void space. The walls shook, the floors rattled. Killian stumbled to the left, then to the right. Somewhere deep in the impossible ship an alarm had sounded. It was too late now. Killian smashed at the controls, wand in one hand, a mallet in the other. The ship lurched, the enchanted lights all burst in a rain of coloured glass. “WOOOOO YES! Come on old girl!” Killian roared as he piloted his ship.
With an ancient crystal he had found a mana trail. He had locked onto it, amplified it and traced it back to it source. His ship, the Hullaballoo had then followed it, like a garden path or a beacon of light.
It was a peaceful night out on the plains of Bohar, the moons were full illuminating the deep blue purple sky.
CRACK
The silence was broken as a new star blazed into existence. A tiny teardrop – no bigger than eight feet tall. It was pearl coloured with a strange light bobbing along atop. The shape faded in and out of the sky all the while a deafening wheezing noise accompanied it- the engines of the impossible airship Hullabaloo. Bigger on the inside, impregnable, unbreakable.
Unless your name was Killian.
Inside he was being thrown around. Sparks flew from the console, his wardrobe deck fold in on its reality, the kitchen exploded. Outside the tiny pearl spun furiously as it plummeted towards the ground. Inside the void stabilisers burnt out and Killian was forced to throw a bucket of water over it.
The plains shook as the airship smashed the ground. From the outside it appeared to be undamaged, the inside however was an entirely different story. There were now four different alarm bells ringing, glass and damaged crystals littered the floor. The airship was still alive, but it wasn’t happy. Steam and smoke, water and oil.
The double doors opened inwards and a thick cloud of dark green smoke rose into the night air. A figure stepped out, a legend of a man dressed in a dusty black greatcoat. His sapphire eyes shone like the stars, as he looked out onto the world he’d crashed into.
“Made it.” He patted the airship lovingly, and the doors closed themselves.
