The Edge

[Pegasus]

1st Zi'da Arc 717

"I say we throw him overboard an' be done with it. I don't like it."

Captain Marson looked at his navigator and smiled slightly. He knew that the superstitious biqaj didn't mean it, was just blowing off steam, but equally, it was rather like this journey was cursed from the outset.

So far, there had been equipment failure, they realised that they had left behind some vital star charts (thank U'frek for the biqaj and his ability to know the stars without them) and three of the men had fallen sick. Still, thus far, their guest had not been made aware of anything and instead they were managing.

"The Professor is a man, not a curse. We'll leave extra offerings tonight, it will be fine."

Vamis, the navigator, snorted. "I know what offering I'd leave." .

The Captain laughed and shook his head. "No, you wouldn't. Come now, lets have some rum." And the pair of them left.

5th Zi'da Arc 717 2 breaks before dawn

The journey from Scalvoris had been incredibly cold. This was the kind of cold that would kill in moments. When Padraig had travelled to the Ice Caves of Ishallr, he had understood what cold was. But this was something else. He had, just a few breaks before, fallen off to sleep. For all that the crew had done everything they could to make him feel comfortable, there were some things which were a matter of, ironically, basic physics.

The wood of the vessel he travelled on creaked and groaned. The waters around them were full of floating ice and they had passed a number of large icebergs, with more than one close call. The air was cold and whenever water was, it almost immediately froze. Everywhere was freezing. Every surface, every utensil, every item of clothing. Each in breath was painful, burning his nose as he inhaled the frozen air. At night he was wrapped in the sleeping bag made for him by his wife, which was somehow always warm, as were the clothes that he wore thanks to her abilities in sewing. Still, the moment a part of him emerged, any bare skin was immediately incredibly cold. However, being married to a woman with a tendency to fuss and over plan meant that he was at least well equipped and his nights, whilst far from comfortable, were not the torture they could have been.

The crew were friendly but distant and Padraig had most of the time thus far to himself. He could be above decks if he wanted, but the crew were busy and he was mostly in the way. If they weren't busy, they were in their cabins trying to get warm. So, in the 5 trials since he had left, he had been largely isolated. Originally, Professor Dashiell had hoped to accompany him, but circumstances had prevented her and so Padraig was travelling alone.

So, just a few breaks before dawn on the 5th Zi'da, Padraig woke up suddenly. It was one of those experiences which meant that he was suddenly and completely awake, eyes wide open. Yet, for a moment or two, he didn't know why. He'd been dreaming and in his dream he was lost, in a dark place and he was snapping his feet together as though expecting something to happen, but it didn't. In the dream, when he shouted, no sound came out and the emptiness he was in was vast. It was cold when he woke, of course, but that was a constant and the fact that he had suddenly sat up in bed meant that he felt it. But that wasn't what had woken him up, he was sure.

No, it was the quiet.

Not a physical quiet, but he had a sense of something, something not being there, not being right. As he heard the shout of warning from above deck, a call for all hands, that sense of quiet continued, pervaded. His arm, as he glanced down, no longer held the mark from Famula, the one which symbolised his bonding with Faith. Whilst the bands of Qylios still glowed on his arm, the light they cast was dim in comparison to his norm.

From above, the shout came again.

[Padraig]

If he was honest, Padraig would admit that he'd been miserable from the first trial, the first break that he'd stepped on board the Biqaj vessel. He was accustomed to the cold, but the farther they sailed away from civilization, the colder it got. And it was unnatural, and unreasonable. Thanks to the nature of the clothing and bedding, he probably wasn't in danger of dying of hypothermia. But he'd opted for covering himself from head to toe in layers upon layers, even a scarf wrapped round his face, covering all but his eyes. He'd have sworn his eyeballs themselves were shivering.

But mostly, he hadn't wanted to leave Faith behind. All the more, with the arrival of their child so close at hand. He knew that Cyrus would watch over her. He knew she could reach him and in fact they exchanged letters each trial. He even knew that if it came to it, he could slide on the portal boots and return straight home. Still, there wasn't a trill that Padraig didn't miss her. What he was doing was important. Not just for himself. Not by a long shot. This was an opportunity to answer possibly, questions that had been asked since the time mortal man first set foot on Idalos.

At any rate, over the trials on board, it was the sky that provided a much needed distraction. He knew the crew wasn't exactly thrilled about his presence on board, or the reason for the journey. But Padraig did his best to stay out of their way. Still, when the sky was clear, he couldn't imagine that there was a better place to view the stars than here, out at sea, trials away from civilization. The inky dark out on the sea meant that he could see so much more with the naked eye than he'd ever seen before. And with his telescope? It left him awestruck and he was sure to record each and every observation he made.

That fifth trial at sea, or rather night, he'd struggled to fall asleep just as he had any night. It was just too cold to drift gently off. He must have slept soundly at some point. But when he woke again suddenly, it was with a startling jolt and he'd sat straight up in bed, so abruptly that the blankets tumbled off to the floor. "Faith?" he called out, something about the dream chasing him into the waking world. Padraig shook his head, realizing that something felt very, very wrong. It wasn't so much what he felt, but what he didn't A look down at his arm confirmed it. He hadn't needed it too. Feeling what she felt, even from a long distance, had become such a part of him he rarely gave it a second thought. Except now that it was gone.

Why? Why suddenly did he feel disconnected from her. Padraig was a scientist but he was also a husband, therefore his mind skipped over any number of perfectly reasonable and logical explanations or theories, to the worst case scenario. And he wasn't even sure what it was, except that his mind had skipped straight to worry and questions he couldn't answer. Pulling on his clothing, he eyed the portal boots. He'd used them before. It would be a simple matter of pulling them on and returning home to her. Damn the voyage, damn the reason for it.

He was reaching out for them when he realized that the captain had called for all hands. And then he did it again. What was going on? Was it somehow related to this sense of isolation he was feeling? Still eyeing the boots, Padraig cursed, adding his armor and weapon on top of his clothing before heading out of his cabin and up on deck. He hadn't at all given up the idea of using those boots. And yet, the part of him that was a scientist reminded him, at least, that there might be some other explanation. At any rate, apparently they needed help up there.

[Pegasus]

Before

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He had seen sights like no other, watching the stars there. There was no light, everywhere was as freezing cold as everywhere else so, he was able to find a quiet spot and record what he needed to. Unfortunately, even his ink froze, but there was that small case filled with orange sand which it fitted in, so he was able to write just so long as he was quick. His eyeballs weren't shivering, but it was close and when he got back to his cabin at night, his eyelashes were frozen.

But what he had seen

Stars unseen before, the heavens opened to him in a way completely unlike anything before. Just in the last few trials, he had been able to add to the star charts things which would fill in gaps in knowledge, add to existing knowledge. It was astonishing.

And hopefully, it would be worth it.

5th Zi'da Arc 7172 breaks before dawn

"ALL HANDS!"

The cry went up and the crew moved. It wasn't just them, though, it was the Professor, as they knew him. He emerged from his cabin and when he set foot on to the deck, Padraig would be in no doubt at all just what the call was about. What it was for.

It was pitch dark, the ship was moving very slowly through the icy waters. There were small pieces of floating ice everywhere and here, where it was too cold even for snow to fall, there was a stillness to the air which simply wasn't found anywhere else. Not anywhere else on Idalos. Around him, the crew moved in the sort of ordered chaos of a well trained group but Padraig would be entirely forgiven for being rooted to the spot for a moment.

The iceberg they were approaching was enormous.

Not large, not big. Enormous. As tall as the University building stacked atop itself, maybe more than once, the ship was moving inexorably, but oh so very slowly, towards it. The crew were doing their best but there, at the prow of the ship stood a woman. Padraig knew her, or at the very least knew of her. She was a mage, a Defier. The element of air was hers to command and when Padraig first came aboard, she had been introduced to him as Katie. Human, she had seemed quiet and unassuming but, since he had been out on deck regularly, he had seen her working. When there was no wind, or the wind blew in the wrong direction, she could help the ship move. He had seen her stand at the prow of the ship and command the elements and, it must be said, it was magnificent.

Not so now. Now she stood and looked at the certain death which faced them.

"What do you mean, you CAN'T!!"

The Captain was usually a calm and quiet man but Padraig would realise that he was standing behind him when he practically screamed at the woman. "Xiur give me strength, what is going on this voyage?" Padraig hadn't heard anything about any cursed voyage, but he was very aware that the crew avoided him. Not so right now, however, as the Captain walked up to him. The man looked calm as calm could be, but not to the point where he was fooling anyone.

"Alright, Professor. Magic isn't working. There's an iceberg that I swear to Chrien wasn't there bits ago and apparently, you're a physicist." He looked at Padraig with an expression of no hope at all. Oars fell into the water from the side of the ship as the slaves below started to row, desperately trying to row them out of the way of this. However, the mathematician in them all would make the calculations, possibly unbidden and would be clear.

If they survived this, it would be a miracle. They needed wind, or wave or movement of some kind. Any kind. It was possible that they would just scrape past, but it was unlikely and scrape would, most certainly, be the operative word. So, the Captain asked because frankly, he had nothing left to lose. "Is there anything you can do?"

[Padraig]

When the captain had called for all hands, Padraig had answered, but with the assumption that for the most part, he'd only be getting in the way. Useless, for the most part, when it came to all things related to sailing. As events unfolded and he saw exactly what they were facing, he became more convinced it might be the case. Except that it appeared that the captain was feeling desperate. But if Katie's magic wasn't working when it was needed the most, what could he do? Anything of course would be preferable to ending up at the bottom of the ocean. He was still all too keenly aware of the sudden disconnectedness he felt back home. But there was a more immediate problem. Little good the boots would do if there was no one alive to use them.

"I'm a physicist, not a miracle worker," he shot back without even looking behind him. It wasn't as if he could lift up an iceberg and move it aside, or the ship instead. The thing was enormous, massive. He knew very little about icebergs, but enough to know that what was beneath the surface was sure to be monstrous times three, four, ten. That bit jutting out of the water was just, well, it was only the tip of the iceberg. And unless some sort of miracle transpired, they were going to slowly collide with it. Or maybe...Well maybe not. Or maybe there was a way to minimize the damage.

With that in mind, Padraig joined Katie on the bow in order to have a better look at the thing. He was looking at the part that stuck out of the water, assuming they were due for a head on collision. Was it fairly regular in shape? Or was one side narrower or more concave than the other? Mostly though, he wanted to know what, if anything, he could see of it beneath the surface. If there was any moonlight that night, he ought to be able to see just a little. Enough maybe, to know which side of the thing would be less treacherous than the other.

His mind raced, having to rely on several assumptions rather than questioning the captain at length. These were the Biqaj. A seafaring people and sailing was their thing. Which meant that their choice of ship designs wouldn't be foolish ones. Therefore the rudder oughtn't be too small for what he had in mind. It ought to at least be sufficient in relation to the size of the ship. Maybe larger. You needed a good rudder, especially in this case. Speaking to the captain, he said, "As long as we're just drifting, we're going to collide with that thing either head on or at an angle, which could be the worse option at all."

And at this speed there was no steering the ship, he added. The rudder was close to useless, if not completely. But they were drifting, and so while there was very little momentum, there was some. "I've got an idea but you're not going to like it. Tell your rowers not to try and reverse course." Backwards, he meant. Don't do it. "There's not enough time to overcome the forward momentum and you won't be able to control the ship." Instead, what he suggested might seem to be counter-intuitive. Except, science. "Have them row in favor of speed and a hard change of course...To the right," he said, glancing at the iceberg and it's shape again.

"The same with the rudder. It will speed up the ship into a turn, and may cause us to tilt a little more than is comfortable." But not too much, according to Padraig's calculations, so long as the captain corrected their course before they went into a very, very slow and uncontrolled spin...Or for that matter went bottoms up. "The list should be enough to move the hull farther away from what's below the surface. That's where the real danger lurks."

Of course, he explained, that might mean that the deck, rails and sails might tilt closer to the exposed ice, just as the hull tilted away. But this wasn't about avoiding a collision or just a scrape if they were lucky. It was about minimizing the damage as much as possible, and avoiding ending up, all of them on the bottom of the sea.

[Pegasus]

5th Zi'da Arc 717 - 2 breaks before dawn... (Before)

"Towards it?"

Well, that hadn't been what he'd expected, it had to be said. After Padraig had examined the iceberg, he'd calculated the best he could and he had come to what was a rather surprising conclusion. But, in fairness to the captain, or despite his better judgement, the man listened to Padraig's point. Desperation lived in his eyes for a moment, even just at the thought of what Padraig was suggesting. If they built up enough speed to do this, they might just end up tipping the entire vessel too far. Come to that, they might have to. Because Padraig was right, it wasn't about avoiding it, at this point, it was about minimising the damage and making sure that the places where the damage happened could be repaired.

Not least because, in this plan, they'd hopefully still be alive.

5th Zi'da Arc 717 - Dawn (During)

The sun started to peek over the horizon, as though it was coming to watch the valiant efforts of the crew below.

"Why do you give them hope?" Katie asked with a mild and calm curiosity. "It seems like death is coming closer. Surely we should be running from, not towards?" She was able to ask him that because the pair of them were more or less tied together. Since the captain had agreed to Padraig's plan as being the only thing that stood a chance for them, the place had been a bustle of activity. There was no point surviving this to get killed by a falling beam or a flying box that should have been tied down or secured, the captain told them cheerily. So, the crew got everything tied down, secured and otherwise held still as well as they could. Meanwhile, Padraig and Katie as the civilians aboard, were politely put (or asked if they'd go) over there. In an out of the way kind of way.

The rowers below deck were doing their best, trying to get them the speed they needed and they'd done well. The captain had shown the two of them how to wrap their hands around the rope which edged the ship. How to wrap once and twice, hands and feet because if they went overboard they were dead. It was as simple as that. "If you're right, of course," she added with a slight smile, "it will be an incredible ride."

"HARD TO STARBOARD!!"

The captain's voice was clear and they both could feel the ship start to move, to tilt as it turned.

"HARD TO STARBOARD!!!!"

he shouted again and the pair of them began a period of time where they had no choice but to follow his next orders.

"BRACE!! BRACE FOR IMPACT AND HOLD ON FOR YOUR LIVES!"

Then, the groaning of the hull became louder and the enormous "crack" sounded. Over the shouts, the orders and the sounds of debris starting to fall, there came the sound of screaming. But all they knew was that they had to hold on, or they would certainly die.

5th Zi'da Arc 717 - 1 break past dawn...(After)

It was silent and the ocean was still.

After the deafening noise, the quiet was punctuated by creaks and groans and the occasional loud sound of a piece of the mast, or other part of the ship, coming dislodged and landing on the deck with a crash. The damage was bad, there was no doubting it, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it could have been.

They were alive, for one.

So, once the first stage of repairs were underway, the captain came to find Padraig. The both of them had cuts and bruises all over them. Padraig had a cut over his eyebrow, the captain was holding his arm very, very still and close to his body. They had been flung about and battered, but at least they weren't one of the bodies floating in the icy water. Or one of the injured who had been taken below decks. Katie was one of those ~ she had been struck on the side of the head by a piece of falling beam and the gash on her head was such that it would be a miracle if she lived.

"We've lost a third of the crew," the captain said, by way of greeting. "As of this moment, we are not in control of this ship, so much as the currents are. With basic repairs, I'll be able to steer by the time the sun sinks. If we want to actually repair her properly, we'll be here a ten trial. If we do that," he shrugged and glanced around. The cold would likely kill off the injured and there came a point when there just weren't enough of them to do what they had to do. "I can get you where you need to get. It's two, maybe three trials out at our best speed and taking into account the delay now. But," he looked at Padraig with an expression which was just tired and in pain. "the university won't care about those men who died, or their families. So, whatever it is that you're looking for, you'd best find it." He shrugged slightly, tiredly pinching his nose and then he nodded to Padraig and patted his arm in an almost companionable gesture.

"Considering, as far as I'm told, Professors sit on their arse and think all trial, you look like you've got a strong back. Come help me, we'll get this old girl moving yet." Assuming that Padraig did help, it would be breaks of backbreaking work getting the mast repaired. The slaves who had been rowing were up on deck, helping and Padraig might notice that the biqaj treated them no different than any other crew member. As the trial wore on, they were all freezing, in pain and had hands filled with splinters, yet still here and there erupted laughter or conversation; more and more as the trial wore on and the captain looked at them and shook his head, but said nothing. As the pair of them worked, and it was just the two of them, he motioned around to the area they were in. "So what are you doing, Professor? And come to that, what are you doing it for?"

[Padraig]

Along with the dawning of a new trial, had come a real, visual reckoning of what was about to happen. It was as if the Immortals themselves, the real powers that were, wanted a first row seat and the best lighting possible in order to take it all in. "Because we can't run from it," Padraig said to Katie as they began lashing themselves to the rail of the ship. "Because a collision is inevitable. It's just a matter of how many die under one scenario as opposed to another. And why not hope? It's better than none at all." It was like faith, he figured. If the consequences of faith were real, then the rewards were great. If they were not, then there was nothing to lose by having it.

"The science supports it," he added, referring to the advice that he'd given the captain. "But if the men aren't motivated by their faith in it, then the science means nothing." She was right though. It was an incredible, and terrifying ride. He'd have been thrown about like a rag doll if he hadn't been tethered in place. Though it did complicate things if something was to come crashing down on his head. As it was, while he might have survived it, he didn't come away unscathed. None of them did, any many were far, far more unlucky than him.

And when it was over, the silence was eerie. Made all the worse after witnessing the damage and the bodies floating in the water. Not everyone had survived, it appeared. "I care," he said quietly as he worked beside the captain, using what little of that sort of knowledge he had to help repair what was broken. "I wish more could have been saved. I wish they all could have." The guilt was nearly overwhelming. On a logical level, Padraig knew his plan had been a sound one, and had saved more lives than would have been. If they'd just drifted into that iceberg, the part of it beneath the surface would have torn open the hull.

It had been too late to reverse course, and the loss of control from the rudder would have resulted in the same scenario. Which meant all of them would have gone down with the ship. Two-thirds alive was better than none. But it didn't lessen the sense of regret any. "You know," he said later while they were working. "It may be that the iceberg didn't appear out of nowhere, and a reason why the lookouts didn't see it sooner." He apologized first, in case it was something the captain was fully aware of already. But..."There's a phenomena that scientists refer to as blue ice, which can sometimes result in a blue iceberg."

Basically, he explained, a blue iceberg was revealed after the ice from above the water melted just enough to change the balance of the whole. The smooth portion of the iceberg then, the one formed from the compression of pure snow under a great deal of pressure, became heavier and the whole thing goes bottom up. "It's glacial ice. Sometimes it appear blue because of age or the refraction of light. But more importantly, it's not the white monsters you usually see. It's more like glass." Which of course made it much more difficult to see on even a moonlit night. Almost impossible on a moonless one."[/b][/i] Look for a void instead, he suggested. Like a hulking shadow in the night. Or use lamps in hopes of seeing the light reflecting off one of them.

So, what was he doing it for. And for that matter, Padraig was forced to wonder, was it worth this loss of life? Those were the stakes now, after all. "How far have you sailed from Idalos' shores, captain?" he asked. Who better to ask after all than a Biqaj? These people might have some of the answers themselves and weren't even aware of it. "I guess I'm looking for answers. Old ones, new ones. There's something going on out there. Maybe it's always been the case, in which case it answers age old questions. But if it's new, unusual, then something is going on. Something big."

He'd spent more than a season studying the stars, the paths of the moons and both suns, he explained. All had moved predictably, traveling along a predictable path, and progressing just as expected with each passing trial. Except that suddenly it wasn't the case with the second sun. Something was going on, either suddenly or just as it had always been. But if it was new...the consequences could be important. "Something out here is already...not right," he supposed with a deep frown. "Before you called for all hands, I'd woken and realized that something was wrong."

it was the sense of a void, he explained, and then went on to describe the connection that he and his wife had. Always, and due for the most part to the favors of several Immortals. And it was suddenly gone. Along with that, the bands around his own arm were dimmer. At first he'd feared that something had happened back home to break that connection, and he'd been frantic with worry. "But when I realized that Katie herself was no longer, suddenly, in command of her own abilities? And it's not just magic, I don't think. This morning I tried a little alchemy to test the theory. Nothing. It doesn't work either." Had the captain ever sailed this far before? Had they been in this area? It might answer the question then. Was this a new phenomena or one that was usual?

[Pegasus]

5th Zi'da Arc 717 - 1 break after dawn

He wished they all had lived? The captain looked at him and his frown softened, his expression more friendly. "Those of us who are alive, we have you to thank." Simple words, but he meant them wholeheartedly. "We won't forget that."

The captain was a serious man and even as the trial wore on and silence was replaced by a slow increase in noise. It was nothing like usual, not what Padraig had heard on the trials before, but there were conversations, brief bursts of laughter, now and then. Subdued compared to the norm, but still there. As the trial wound on and the sun moved across the sky, they worked. It was exhausting, heavy work and the cold made it so much harder. Padraig suffered less than the others, by virtue of his clothes. The techniques woven into them still worked and so, he was warm. Warmer, at least.

It was beautiful there, no doubting it. The sky was a crisp blue and the ice glittered on the mirror of the still ocean. The captain looked at Padraig and raised an eyebrow when he described the nature of his Immortals-given links. "You sure that's a blessing, lad?" He almost grinned as he said it but what Padraig described sounded awful, and he told him so. "Women's ways are bad enough when they can't tell what we're thinking and feeling. Doesn't bare thinking about." Still, what went on with the Professor and his wife was not the captain's business, so he listened and nodded

"It makes sense, what you say. But no. There's nothing here. It's the edge of the world." Why would he travel here, the implication was clear. He said nothing for a little while, seeming as though he was not going to answer Padraig's question and instead focusing on what he was doing, but after a few moments he began to talk again.

"We have stories about what's here. Some say that there's a waterfall there on the edge, like none other on Idalos. Thousands of feet high and if you tip over it, you fall into the land of dreams. Others say there's just a void, nothing. I've heard of this sort of thing, aye, but never experienced it." He shrugged slightly, "we tell a lot of stories and if you half believe half of them, then you're gullible. But places like this? Where no magic works and the dark icebergs appear? They say that's where Vri has travelled, picking up the souls of the dead sailors." He gave a grin which told Padraig that he was unnerved but trying not to be.

After a few more moments of silence, he spoke again. "But then, I once had a navigator who swore that we were just one of the panels on the back of a giant turtle. Sailors are funny, superstitious souls."

5th Zi'da Arc 717 - Dusk

As the sun sank into the horizon, casting a pale golden glow over the water and gave the ice a strange look to it, the captain and a few others, Padraig included, went down to the galley to eat. Thick soup with hot bread was served to them in bowls and the mood was sombre. The captain, the navigator and the first mate were there, Padraig and two other crew members. "We've lost another three of the injured. Including the mage." The first mate spoke with a calm detachment which he obviously didn't feel. "And Cookie says that a lot of the food got damaged. We're going to have to ration."

The captain cursed, vehemently. "How bad?" The response was simple. They'd be alright, probably, for a while as long as they rationed well. But if they hit any more delays, if they dallied where they were going more than a trial or two? Well, then they might start being in trouble. It was just another thing to consider.

And so, they started once again on their journey. There were repairs to do for the next few trials, but they were the kind that could be done whilst moving, and so move they did.

8th Zi'da Arc 717 - dawn...

Two full trials passed. They worked to repair the vessel. They fished in an attempt to stretch the food stores. People who had been injured either got better or died and Padraig could help out or he could be left to himself. No one asked him to help but, should he offer, he was not refused. Far from it.

However, as luck had it, at that moment he was alone. Standing on the deck and looking out. The sun was sinking into the horizon and there, in the distance was what must be a truly enormous iceberg. The tip of it appeared in view then, as they got closer to it, more and more of it became visible. It was an amazing sight to see and the way that it appeared, like it slowly unfolded, was very pronounced. It probably didn't surprise him when, a half break later the navigator told him that the iceberg in the distance, possibly the largest one any of them had ever seen, was the spot where they were headed and they should arrive about midnight.

[Padraig]

The cold made the work all the more difficult, considering Padraig started off from a shaky foundation already. He was no shipwright by any stretch of the imagination. His carpentry skills were only marginally better and not by much. But he could swing a hammer, measure and mark, calculate angles and so on. And at least the crew's spirits had improved some. It helped, even if he continued to harbor regrets that more hadn't been saved. All the more, when he learned that Katie had also succumbed. And running through it all was the worries that came with his connection to Faith being cut off completely.

The more he'd considered it, the more he came to realize that it was because of something going on out here in this previously unexplored part of the world, and not necessarily because anything had happened back home. It eased his concerns on his own behalf some, but Padraig also realized that if he could no longer sense her and her welfare, then the same would be true for her. She must be going mad with worry, and he feared again for her state of well being and that of their child. At least Cyrus was there, and he knew his grandfather would always maintain a calm state of mind, and perhaps the bluntness that always came with it. At any rate, the grueling work was a welcome distraction.

He'd had to smile a little though when the captain wondered if the connection he shared with his wife was also a good thing. He could see the argument that it might not always be the case. "Theoretically, I suppose not," he admitted. "Though so far it's been far more for the better. There are, however, no secrets." Padraig had heard snippets of some of those stories before, regarding what lay at the edge of the world. Or what might not. Fanciful things, outlandish things. In truth, it surprised him that no one before had set out in order to actually see and experience it for themselves, and he said as much. But then what he didn't add, was the caveat. Maybe they had, and had never returned alive.

Eventually though they were on their way again if slowly and short on food. Padraig had done as much as he could to help with the repairs. So at times he attempted to make himself useful fishing, with limited success. Other times, he got the bright idea of tying feather light fishing string to his arrows and trying to shoot birds out of the air for a little variety in their diet. The fishing line helped in the sense that if he managed to hit one and it fell into the sea, he could pull it back in. That was assuming that a shark or whale didn't gobble it up for he reeled it in.

Sooner or later he turned back to studying the sea, and the horizon off in the distance. He'd already observed that out there, with little to nothing else but open water in sight and calm conditions, the surface of the ocean was curved. It wasn't an optical illusion, and no sane scientist would say it was because the ocean, the waters themselves were bulging. It could only be because the curvature of calm and still seas, mimicked that of the world itself. He only had to prove it. And as if some Immortal had managed to to read his mind and decided to oblige, there appeared on the horizon a little help in that regard.

He'd been observing with the naked eye, or sometimes with his spyglass and other times with his telescope. But what he saw was a white tip on the horizon. First so small that anyone not looking closely would have missed it. But it rose and grew. And from the instant he first saw it, the scholar began taking notes and making calculations. As the thing rose up from the horizon, he knew it for what it was. But it could have been any stationary object, such as an island or a very large ship. The realization that came with it was the same. The iceberg wasn't rising up from the depths. It was already there and had been blocked from view by the curvature of Idalos.

So, curvature of the land or seascape which was currently unknown, vantage...meaning the height of his view, distance to object and height of object...also currently unknown. Distance was easy enough to resolve. They were getting closer and eventually he could get that number from the navigator. And if that was their destination, then he could also measure the size once they got there. At that point, he'd be much closer to calculating the curvature, along with the actual size of the world. Assuming he was right of course. So when the navigator made way to his side, Padraig looked up from his notes and smiled before asking, "So, how would you feel if you turned out to be the navigator on an expedition that ended up proving the world we live on is not flat at all, but round. And not like a disc or a dinner plate," he added. "But like a globe."

[Pegasus]

5th Zi'da - Dusk

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The navigator looked at him and smiled, trying not to be obvious when he looked to see if Padraig had bumped his head. "I'd feel like we live in a strange place. It's flat, look." He gestured to the view all around them, where it seemed to be obvious that the world was flat. He wondered, really genuinely, if the Professor was a little mad and he couldn't help himself from thinking it. If they were coming all this way and all these people were dying because of this man and his ideas about the shape of the world?

Well, it was ludicrous.

However, he'd come here to say something to Padraig and so, standing there and looking at what might be a simply enormous scientific discovery that he truly didn't believe, Vamis spoke. He didn't look at Padraig when he did. "I came to say thank you, Professor." Biqaj eyes, shifting colour and hard to read unless you really knew a person, looked out to sea. "There's a girl back 'ome. I'm going to ask her to get wed when we get back. I'd have died here if you hadn't done what you did. We all would, and I want to get back to her. So, thank you. And I'm sorry." He turned to look at Padraig, apparently tearing his eyes away from the sights. "I thought you were causing the bad luck. Superstition brings bad luck, that's what the capt'n tells me. But you saved us, so.. I'm sorry." He gave a grin then, all bluff and bluster. "Tell you what. If we get back in one piece, I'll invite you to the party, an' there's no weddin' like a biqaj one. If you prove that the world's a globe, I'll let you dance with 'er." He was very sure that there'd be no dancing, he assured him. Then, he answered any questions about where they were, distance and so on that Padraig had before leaving him to it.

Padraig's hearing was good enough that he heard the snort and the good-natured chuckle "Worlds a globe. Right. Nice one, Prof."

Then, he was left alone to continue his calculations.

5th Zi'da Arc 717 - 10pm

By all calculations they were about two breaks away from reaching the iceberg. Up until this point, things had been calm and had seemed calm too. The iceberg they were travelling towards was enormous, larger than anything the captain had ever seen and he told Padraig, without bluster, that he had travelled most of the oceans of Idalos. They were moving, slicing through the icy waters and then Padraig felt a shiver run through him. It wasn't painful, like the sensation when Quattro got irritated and took matters into her own paws, or if he got the brief sensation that a ghost had walked through him or someone had stepped on to his grave. He might notice, though, that it passed through him. Front to back.

Like he'd stepped through an invisible wall. And as he felt it, the memory of it waking him just a few trials before came back to him. It was familiar, it was remembered. It was real and, of course..... it was happening again

It might be just the kind of thing that he'd ponder, but in that very trill, everything changed.

For whatever reason, despite the cold he was above decks. Making observations, measurements and so on. Standing where he was, he had the experience of standing on a ship in calm seas, his feet on a dry deck. But then the front of the ship lurched in the storm and the deck was soaked from the torrential rain. As they moved forward, the whole of the ship passed through the completely invisible barrier into the worst storm Padraig had ever seen. Lightning hit the sea literally right next to them, the rain lashed over them and the winds howled. He might also notice that, in that moment, the bands on his arm were no longer dim compared to their usual.

They were gone.

Around him, after the shocked moment where everyone stood with mouths agape, the crew started to move. Thunder roared, the waves were enormous and the ship rolled. Flash after flash of lightning hit the seas and it seemed as though their death was certain.

Normally, usually, he would be of no use here, and would be better off simply getting out of the way. However, he was the only one who knew ~ or believed, at least ~ that they had passed through a barrier. Invisible to the naked eye it might be, but when he looked around he could see, behind them, where the waves lashed against an unseen wall, the seas beyond it calm. So, too, should he notice such, were other places ahead of them. If they continued in a straight line for the iceberg, they would be this side of the barrier a lot longer than they needed to be, he saw no place where they could break out of this barrier ahead of them, the seas rolled as far as he could see.

But, of course, the ship was already damaged, the waters were boiling and heaving and lightning struck every half a trill or so. The route to the nearest break-out point would require careful navigation through ice-filled water and more than one iceberg of usual size. It would be a heck of a risk, and he might just end up making things a whole lot worse if they hit an iceberg. Also, the captain and navigator were rather busy.

What would he do?

[Padraig]

If the navigator had wondered if he was mad? Well Padraig figured he wouldn't be the first to wonder, and probably not the last. There'd been times on this voyage that he'd considered that possibility himself. He remained convinced however and when the man insisted, to the contrary, he wanted to urge him to have a look through the spyglass or his telescope, and tell him to look at the surface of the water. Really look. Long and hard with an open mind. It wasn't flat at all, taken in as a landscape and not just a patch of water. It was curved. Not flat.

However, what the navigator said next stopped him. There was no need to apologize, Padraig told him. They were all in this boat together, and they all had reasons for wanting to get home in one piece. There was a part of him that stayed put in regret. If not for him, they wouldn't have been out here in the first place. No one at all would have died. At least not for this. If he was the sort to pray, then he'd have to pray that somehow this all proved to be worthwhile. But he wasn't entirely sure...what was a mortal's life worth? Was there anything that was worth more? A philosophical question, he guessed, and philosophers weren't scientists. But regardless, he said that he'd hold that man to his promise, and he'd be dancing with the navigator's wife at their wedding.

All the while they were getting closer to their destination. At least the current one and as the iceberg loomed in front of them, Padraig returned to his work. Observation, calculation. Soon they'd be close enough that he be able to get an accurate idea of its size. He could already make a few educated guesses. But what he knew for sure was that it was enormous. It was a perfect trial for it too. Until suddenly it wasn't. It was that not so unfamiliar sensation though that brought his attention round full circle and in an instant. He'd felt it before and not realized it. But now he did as a physicist, had a keener sense of it. Like a charge in the air, particles rearranging themselves, bouncing off each other and passing through whatever physical objects passed too close. Even living bodies.

He was instantly on alert, and looking down at his arm realized that the glowing bands that had been dimmer before, were gone. He'd have called out a warning to the captain, the navigator and crew. But it was too late for that. Strikes of lightening landed far to close for comfort, the sky split open and the ship and them with it were tossed around like toys on the sea. He got away from the rail and grabbed tight to whatever he could. This was why they hadn't spotted the deadly iceberg before it was nearly too late. Not because it was blue or black ice. What made sense back then, didn't now. "Get the metal off you!" he shouted, and shed his sword himself in a bid not to become a walking or cowering lightening rod.

That was the least of it though. The pounding they were taking meant that soon enough at this rate, the ship would be reduced to splinter and they'd all go down with it. If this was some Immortal's idea of a practical joke, it wasn't funny. But then perhaps there were forbidden places where men were forbidden to go. They'd already got their first warning after all. This might just be the second. But no, Padraig was a scientist. If there'd been some sort of barrier or wall that they'd passed through, then surely it was still there? He straightened and tried for a better look around them. And then he saw it and realized.

Too late? It might be. But it was like being caught in a fishbowl that had gone mad. There was a way out however, so long as there was a way to get there. He fought his way to the captain then. "We've passed through a barrier of sorts," he said. "Like before, when the magic stopped working. But it's still there. Look," he urged him. Padraig pointed out the path behind them, where they'd already come from. And off to the side again. And then the other. "Look at the way the waves are behaving there. Not rolling, crashing as if upon a wall or dam. It's calm on the other side and we can pass through."

But which way then? Forward, for as far as the eye could see, was out of the question if they expected the ship to survive it. So far as the strikes of lightening and towering waves, the odds weren't on their side. They were only slightly better in other directions anyway. They could turn the ship around and go back maybe, then go around the barrier. Or they could veer off to one side or the other, possibly through a maze of icebergs.

By his calculations, considering all the variables and obstacles, one way seemed safer but would take longer. Another would be quicker but there were the icebergs. And back was always an option but would require trying to turn the ship around while it was being bettered. He wasn't the sailor. They were. So having given them what information he could, the decision was then the captain's.