The Aeronaut

Tales

"It's true I tell you! You should've seen Mr. Gushlow when he was tellin' us, his face was as white as the sails above!" Exclaimed Micah to the table, enthusiastically peeling an orange.

Horace was unimpressed, which was hardly a surprise to the others.

"I dunno why I even bother to entertain your tall tails, the lot of you have your heads full of your nan's old stories." He said with a sigh, even Emeline appeared skeptical of the woven yarn.

"What is it that's so hard to believe?" Questioned Micah, slightly returning to the pouty nature that reminded Piper of the day they'd met. "You believed Padasirian pirates were able to traverse as far as our waters!" He accused Emeline, who just shook her head.

"Pirates are one thing, Micah, but you're talking about a hydra."

"Yeah," Laughed Horace, "and besides the fact that one hasn't been spotted in centuries, they've never been known to come this far south - their home is up north in the Dractorian Sea."

Micah scanned the faces at the table until his pleading eyes landed on Piper. "C'mon Pipes, I know you can entertain the thought that it's at least possible."

She contemplated the story for a moment, smiling at the nickname she had subtly inherited in the last few days.

"Well, certainly anything is possible." She said at last, taking a bite of apple. Micah beamed.

Emeline still looked uncertain; Horace, dumbfounded. "Surely you can't be serious?" He asked with a laugh.

"Why not?" Shrugged Piper, thinking it over more thoroughly. "Certainly there's no known documentation of a hydra in these waters, but serpents and other draconids have been known to wander further south of the isles for something as simple as a change of weather." She said. Winnifred, who had been quietly sipping juice next to her, nodded in agreement, her eyes fixated on the table. Seeing as nothing could break through his stubborn nature, Piper changed tacts.

"How about you tell us then, of a tale you've heard of the sea? Certainly you've heard a number by now?"

Horace blinked once or twice, but then as Piper watched, a bit of interest and even excitement began to grow on his face as the gears turned in his head for a story.

"I've been present to glean one or two...now let me think here a minute..." Said Horace, leaning back on the wooden bench of the mess hall and clasping his fingers behind his head.

"What about that one from when you worked the ferry with your Pa?" Asked Micah, popping an orange slice in his mouth.

Horace thought back, searching for the story on the ceiling. "Ah, you mean the Lorelei?" He asked, breaking into a broad grin.

Micah nodded, but Piper looked at him perplexed. "What's a Lorelei?" She asked.

"As my Pa told it, and his Pa before him,," Began Horace, leaning forward and fixing his elbows on the table, "she's a water spirit back from the old days when the Elves ruled farther north into our lands. These were the days when the Dryadalum forest stretched all the way up to the Impheleni Mountains. Many say that she is the embodiment of the upper Magmine river itself, and can either help or hinder travelers depending on the respect and competence they've shown."

"Amazing you've never been drowned, then." Quipped Emeline happily, then asking, before he could snap back, "What's she look like, anyway? Have you ever seen her?"

Horace shook his head slowly. "I haven't myself, but Pa swears on his life that he saw the Lorelei with his own two eyes 'fore I was born, when flood waters of the roat had turned the rapids from treacherous to deadly - he was still a green horned ferryman in those days - and his craft was nearly battered to splinters."