(Rose)
We were sailing over the land. All day long, over a silent sea of forests, fields and dead cities occasionally.
Flying over Europe, heading roughly north, as the winds would carry us.
The sights were mesmerizing. It was magnificent. Everywhere.
Over each forest and human ruins, there was a master's painting., all day and night.
We deeply enjoyed every moment of it.
We flew almost all day long when we were able to.
One of us would hold the bar first, and after a few hours, we would swap. One would laze and rest, whilst the other sails.
It was a sporty activity to sail that ship. We were wondering on how to improve that in later times, but for now that didn't change.
Still, even when drenched in sweat and collapsing from thirst and shaking legs, we were smiling grandly. We were happy.
We really enjoyed that journey in the skies of central Europe.
Sailing above the frozen seas of forests, hills and even mountains.
Our ship silently jumping from cliffs, and sailing higher into the skies from the top of mountainous slopes and into the still waves of the valleys.
Travelling along with the winds was always a little chaotic and unpredictable, but also an amazing pleasure and experience.
It's hard to describe.
It's something you taste with your entire and whole body.
It's better than sex in some cases.
B - What?
R - Better than loveless sex I said! Of course it's different with real love!
I laughed with an unusual highly pitched voice. Her face had been fun for a moment. Afterward she joins my amusement and embarrassment over her first reaction.
She says she wouldn't know, but probably agrees.
There's no real right way to describe that full sensation of sailing, flying above forests and endless landscapes.
It's a soft trance, that can last safely for hours.
We enjoyed it so much.
We still had to stop once or twice a day to survive though.
We needed to pitch water in the rivers and lakes regularly, using a rope and a bucket. The rope had been soaked in the same bacterial sludge as the rest of the ship, so it was weightless.
Food also required regular resupply. Ana's hunts brought some, although we still needed to gather and stock everything edible we could find.
Some fields down there still looked like they were cultivated just the other day, with good care. Though they obviously were not truly, they could look as if surprisingly well. Some trees in orchards were also overflowing with fruits.
So much even that we pressed some of them to make purees, to keep a little longer.
Travelling in summer was hot, but much easier for food.
Last summer had been a little nightmarish. A few hundreds kilometres away, it's a bliss and easy.
We have plenty of rivers around central Europe. Water will never be an issue around here. Wind neither.
There is plenty of streams in the airs left to carry us around.
And the faster we go, the more the distances are shrinking.
As we fly in these colourful skies, every place in the world seems easier to reach.
Nothing seems too far anymore, as months of travelling away by foot are done in days.
England, Russia, Mongolia, China. Maybe even the Americas?
This speed of flight is opening so many incredible possibilities, we still haven't quite figured out how to list and prioritize them all.
The current plan is to keep heading north and north west until we reach the Baltic sea, beyond Prussia or Poland.
Then we will head west over the sea toward the Great Britain islands, in order to say hello to our oldest friends on Earth. That is assuming they're still where we last met them, now years ago.
Then we would go back the way we would have arrived, and head East over the sea until we reach Petrograd, and then Moscow even. And then, all over this infinite land of Eurasia, until we reach the land of the blue sky, as Ana calls it.
It's kind of a bird's legend, this area of the blue sky. It means the steppes of Mongolia. That nickname was a little familiar, I think I heard it before.
I have no idea how these ancestral lands look like nowadays. Birds from Ana's family and her kind seem to have some inherited memories of this.
Like Turkish people before, she recalls some history of the origins before her own time.
We will go there.
We will see for ourselves if their legends are still a match for reality.
I have this soft and bittersweet feeling along my throat, I can't really shake away.
I'm so happy I want to cry.
It's hard to describe, because every word I choose is subjective and weightless out of context.
Flying over the forgotten lands, with you in my sight.
We have such a nice journey and travel ahead of us.
And I see in your smile that happiness we share makes you tear up as well.
I'm so happy, I want to cry.
~
We have no idea where we are. We'll continue on that general direction until we reach a sea. It should happen eventually!
We're not in a rush anyway. And we're going so fast, it's really just a matter of days.
Maybe we're not going that fast on the scale of the continent, but we certainly are swift against mere walking.
Even if the winds are playful with us, making us go in various curves and detours.
We don't care how long it will take given how pleasant and nice it is.
For our next stop, Bleue jumped and flew away before I made the ship slow down.
She flew over the hills and fields with surely an even greater pleasure than mine. It's hard for me to imagine, but it's likely.
I anchored the ship a little further, along the sturdy ruins of a dead city by a river.
We noticed a storm in the distant skies coming our way, so we'll shelter ourselves and the ship while it passes.
It looks a little like last time. Except this instance, there will be no monster attacking us.
Or at least not the same one as last time. We're too far away from it.
We found a warehouse wide enough and sturdy enough to hide the ship and shelter it from the rain.
Everything was as quiet and peaceful as ever.
Feet against the ceiling, we pulled the ship inside, working against our bacteria friends, pulling on ropes and weighing on the ship so it would crawl below the entrance gap. Our microscopic friends still had their bellies full and did not like being forced to change their relative altitude.
We would feed them a good new batch of liquor to be forgiven.
We still had some rice, fruits, some older liquor, and our master alchemist still ready to cook all of us something good. All while the storm would pass.
The rain came and began playing her music against the roof.
I was happy.
~