Deep Spite

Three days later....

A great vessel sailed over the rather calm, ebony waters which had been hostile for days on end. It was massive, sturdy and without sail, with the force propelling it forward being the large spikes protruding from its back end, all spitting out lengthy trails of furious flame.

Even though the ship wound and meandered a lot because of the tall, still cracks in space – some etched in the boundless, bright sky; some submerged in the viciously poisonous sea or somehow, both – the conditions of this voyage had gotten significantly better.

High above, beyond the peppering of still clouds, the ceiling of Aigas revealed its true form. Its grievous scars from the Ashing of Time caused by Jiggorrhax the Abiding Madness were apparent, yet less gloomy because of the daylight.