It’s a long time since I’ve posted a full story, but here’s a full-length Ontyre short story from the country of Pannulus.
Off the northeast coast of the continent of Tremjara is Pannulus, a country consisting of three main islands and scattered smaller ones. Never a part of the ancient Emprensen Empire on the mainland, or its collapse, magic and technology evolved more steadily in Pannulus than elsewhere. In the present day its three greatest problems are the Shadow Lords across the northern strait, criminals operating extremist cults, and a struggling birthrate owing to the country’s location over concentrated magic…
Searching for balance when up was down, Clarta Baris staggered sideways to a collision with the closest seat. Breathing too fast, it turned out, was the same as not breathing at all.
Meanwhile, her dislike for dying a horrible death was doing quite well.
Atop the tallest Arthune terminal, and the tallest in all of Pannulus, an airship was readying for departure to Dalewater.
At the waiting area’s epicenter, she dropped her gaze to escape the spin, smoothing her skirts with erratic hand motions. “I can’t do it. I thought I could do it, or that I’d be able to do it once I arrived, but it’s obvious I can’t do it. No, I’m quite certain now. Impossible.”
Sitting in the seat beside her, Janley retaliated with drooping brows. “Seems to me you’ve done plenty of impossible.”
“There’s impossible impossible and then there’s impossible impossible.”
“That’s pessimism talking.”
“Actually, pessimism is screaming.”
Jan rolled her eyes. “You’re overanalyzing yourself again.”
“And you like fixing. It’s why you work at an airship tower, there are lots of terrified people needing fixed.” She fingered the cameo at her throat.
“You’re doing it again.” Jan gestured at the airship beyond the glass. “You took one look at the landing platform and let your fear back in.” She added raised brows to her big, brown eyes. “We’ve talked about this, Clarta.”
How was she able to come across as best friend and stern mother figure at the same time?
“We … we’ve talked about a lot of things.”
“Oh no, no tip-toeing out of the conversation. You know I’m right.” Jen grasped her hand, darker skin on lighter, the warmth an anchor. “Didn’t we have this same conversation before your realignment?”
She diverted her eyes. “That … that was life or death.”
To read the remainder of Taking Flight please join me on the website for HERE.