Bubbles and Baubles
Chapter 1
The Lavender Wave
The cheers boomed through the draped curtains ahead of her, chanting, erupting with bursts of passion and energy.
"A-mar-a! A-mar-a! A-mar-a!"
The red veil in front of her was thick, made for extravagant shows like this, but beams of light still shined through even the most minute of loose threads like beams from the setting sun. Looking herself over one last time, she straightened out her blue coat, white and gold trimmings catching the light, and tightened the string of pearls wrapped around her golden, flowing hair and adjusted the encrusted star-shaped pins on her head. The crowd had waited long enough.
Standing firmly on one purple tail, she reached out and threw the curtain aside, basking in the new, flooding lights trained on her; the Volbeats perched on the ceiling above made for quite effective spotlights. Reaching high with welcoming arms for the hectic mass of mismatched shapes and bodies drenched in darkness below, she greeted all with an earnest smile. The house- more honestly described as a wide mansion- had been packed with bustling figures.
Good.
"Welcome, welcome!" Amara shouted, vying to be heard over the roar of voices below. "Thank you all for coming on such very short notice! I know we're all busy around this time of year; trying to fill quotas and meet schedules and demands and…" She trailed off into a brief silence. There would be time to mentally chastise herself later for not rehearsing this, but the speech wasn't that important. Probably. "But please! Make yourselves at home! Try the fine drinks, help yourselves to the wonderful food, and above all else: have fun!" Taking a deep breath, many large, durable bubbles began to grow and pop off the surface of her round nose, flying off into the crowd and shimmering with prismatic light. They bounced around the jubilant crowd as hands, paws, and whatever extremity that could was raised and tried to playfully bat away the bubbles like balls.
She didn't need to reaffirm these pleasantries, the party-goers already seemingly having dipped into the goods offered. It hadn't taken long for a couple Scraftys to have already lugged barrels of perfumed drinks from the wine room without her instruction and set them up haphazardly across the room. The spouts on these had been broken off with one chop, filling eager cups with lush pours of magenta which would pair well with the strung cuts of prime meats and prized fish, and plates of cheeses readied near the walls. Be it the beaks of Starlys, the broad mouth of a Politoed, or even the gaping maw of a Steelix looming its head in through a smashed window- she hadn't remembered inviting that one- the crowd well and truly helped themselves to the feast on offer.
The band at first had been hesitant to play. Understandable, given that they very likely had planned on playing for a far smaller gathering, but they too seemed to relent to the festivities of the night, blaring trumpets and striking the strings of cellos with the nimble fingers only a triage of Simisage, Simipour, and Simisear could offer, elevating the atmosphere and emboldening spirits to further trash the once pristine manor.
It pleased her heart to see such a beautiful mess unfold before her eyes. She had heard some expensive glassware being smashed somewhere in the room, either accidentally or not; and many hanging curtains had been ravaged by the more bold, being torn to ribbons as a flushed Persian and Archen chased each other from drape to drape, dodging the still bouncing bubbles as they flew through the air.
As the Primarina observed the crowd grow further and further hectic as drinks poured like rain and no one attempted to reign them in, falling deeper and deeper into the trap of the night, a cute sneeze and a flash of light dragged her attention to the floor close to her: a Darumaka was rubbing its nose, completely oblivious to the small ember it had sneezed out drifting towards the curtain behind it, catching the fabric with a small, growing fire.
Amara went wide-eyed, quickly reaching her hand into the aqueous blob that composed her hair on the back of her head and dampened her fingers, then reaching over and clenching the fire with wet digits, snuffing it with a sizzle. "Watch the fires, little guy! No need to set the place ablaze!" she jokingly called out to the still clueless fire-type. "Yet," she added under her breath. The night was still young, after all, and she did have an appointment to keep.
A small prod poked at her tail from behind. Turning around, Amara spotted a shrewd looking Pachirisu, tapping its paws together worriedly.
"Ah!" she happily blurted, spying the cute little electric squirrel. Curling her tail, she lowered herself down. "Enjoying the party, little guy?" Her voice struggled to be heard over the rambunctious crowd.
The Pachirisu's mouth moved, but no sound could be heard. Realizing this, he had spoken a little louder, obviously more than he had been ever used to. "I'm doing fine! The food is great, and the drinks smell nice! But, uh…"
Amara tilted her head, mimicking the Pachirisu's own curious movement. "But, uh..?"
"But… doesn't this party seem to be a bit out of control?"
As they had said this, a sudden yelp arose from someone in the crowd behind them. A Machoke had picked up a Bagon, easily seen as the crowd had cleared around them. "Do it!" the obviously guzzled Bagon had shouted. "I'm ready! Give me wings, and let me fly!" The Machoke had complied without hesitation, reeling his arm back and threw the Bagon across the room as it held a brazen smile on its face the whole way, bouncing off one of the many bubbles still flying about the room and crashing out a window, vanishing into the night.
Amara looked back to the bewildered Pachirisu with a quivering straight face, struggling greatly to keep any semblance of a laugh out of her voice. "No, what do you mean?"
The Pachirisu huffed. "What do you mean 'what do you mean?' How can you even afford this? Yeah, you're a pretty good diver and bring back some pretty rare stuff, but enough for all of this? Since when did you even buy a manor?"
"Oh! That's the best part!" Amara blissfully smiled. "This isn't my-"
Before she could finish speaking, a loud thud had silenced the room as the grand doors leading outside flung open. The dancing lights beaming from the Volbeats above all swung to the entrance. Standing in its frame was a sunglassed Golduck, wearing a padded, open black coat, slick pants, and a funny broad hat to match. Their webbed claws tore at their face as they glanced in horror around the once pristine abode, noting each and every mess and stain, and the unfamiliar crowd looking back at him. "What in the actual-" their beak tightened, stifling what they actually had wanted to very explicitly say with a hiss. "What in the seven seas are you people doing in my home?" The Golduck's framed gaze spun about the room, finally falling upon the purple Primarina standing on the impromptu stage of pushed-together tables and nabbed curtains at the back of the room. "Amara?" he shouted. "What's going on here?! This date was just for us!" The Golduck frantically looked around, and snatched a cooked remoraid from the hands of an unaware Politoed, holding it towards her. "I even got a literal boatload of your favorite fish for you!" He gestured about the filled venue, still bewildered. "I thought we were cool!"
"Are you kidding me?" Amara shouted back, leering at the jumped-up Golduck. The Pachirisu, having sensed the imminent awkward situation, slunk away and vanished into the crowd. "You sunk my ship! You stranded me here! And then had the audacity to ask me out while I'm looking at her bubble to the seafloor!?"
The Golduck softly chuckled, scratching the back of his head; but as usual, it had been difficult to tell if it was out of nervousness or superiority with how nasally and quacky it had been. "I mean, let's be honest, that old rust bucket was going to sink anyway! Come on! Better it happen in dock at shore than at sea! Come on, join me! Hand in hand! With your skills and mine, we could be the best treasure-hunting, best sea-sailing, best divers ever! Like, the bestest of them all!" The Golduck raised a single digit, as if he had remembered one last selling point. "With an even bigger ship!"
"Never happening, Gary."
That had ruffled Gary's feathers. The Golduck's face became flush with red; if only he weren't wearing a pair of shades, she might see how crossed he became. "It's not Gary! It's Skipper! Admiral Skipper!" His hands went to his hat, pointing to a shining medal pinned to it. "See!?"
Amara had already long buried her face into her hands as the Golduck talked on and on. Of all the people she ever had to cross paths with, to ever humor diving together once with, why did it have to be this duck? Their public spat had gone on long enough, and she had no interest in staying now that her piece of revenge was done. If only leaving was ever so simple for her. In the water, her speed and grace was unrivaled, gliding through the depths with beautiful mastery and skill; here on dry land, she could only ever pitifully drag herself along the floor that even a brisk walking pace could pass her by. It was even more embarrassing when that same passerby would pass her again, having forgotten an item or a purse.
And if she knew Gary- 'Admiral Skipper,' or whatever ridiculous name he called himself now- she knew his inexplicably loyal crew was close by, and she'd have to dance to a familiar tune. It didn't help that she overstayed her welcome for herself as well, likely being late for that appointment she herself organized.
Belle would chew her out later for this for sure, but that was then.
As she glanced around for her method of escape, her eyes fell onto the large bubbles still floating about the room. Those would do.
Skipper was tapping the rim of his glasses, sighing wistfully. "Why must we always hurt the ones we love?" Taking an exaggerated breath inward, he lurched forward and belched a loud series of quacks, echoing in the room. A small rumble grew in intensity, shaking glasses and rattling dishes until their source became known: a horde of Skipper's goons. Kinglers and Krabbys flanked his sides; Wingulls swooping in through the now-broken window; Lombres, Bibarels, and more and more poured in, making the floor congested with bodies. As if things couldn't get worse, a barrel beside Amara tucked in a corner began to rattle, the lid slowly raising, revealing the leering eyes of a Frogadier staring at her.
"...Were you in there the whole time?" She shook her head; there'd be time to ponder the machinations of the frog later- and how ol' Gary managed to both attract and keep such a large, loyal crew.
"My faithful followers!" Skipper quacked out, arms held to the air. "Drive away these intruders from my- I mean our- home! And seize the Lavender Wave!" At once, a devious grin took hold of the Pokémon surrounding him, brandishing claws and teeth with eager speed. They hadn't even taken two steps closer to Amara before Skipper had realized his mistake, swinging his head around the room. "With reasonable force!" he quickly added. That had caused a collective groan from them. "Now charge! With reasonable force!"
The room had erupted into a stampede with bodies both rushing in and out of the sudden scuffle, hurriedly escaping the venue or running into the fray- except for the band. They seemed content to remain on the level above and continue playing.
Amara herself hadn't been left out for long. That Frogadier had burst forth from the barrel, hands brandishing blades of water as he lunged at her- and then greeted by Amara's aqua tail swinging into him, crashing into the frog's body and slapping it to the wall, sliding down. From behind, two Lombres had managed to squeeze through the chaotic crowd and climbed onto the tables with her, postures low and claws raised. They too were instantly batted away with a singular tail swing, launching them back into the hectic sea of thrashing limbs and petty squabbles they had come from.
That had put a smile on the Primarina's face. "Guess all that swimming really does build muscle!" she puffed, raising her tail in front of her.
Her moment of self-toting was short-lived as Wingulls suddenly swooped down from overhead, forcing her head to drop down with a surprised yelp. From the corner of her eye, she managed to pull her body back enough to avoid two sudden spheres of water flying past her, having been launched from somewhere in the crowd, slamming into the wall with a wet splash. From within the mess of brawling Pokémon, she could see Skipper pushing himself through the crowd towards her. Actually, 'pushing' might be too generous; it was more like he was being churned through a grinder of reeling elbows and flailing claws and wings battering him at every turn as he wormed his way towards her, completely oblivious to how trashed his manor had become from the fighting. More worrisome than that Golduck was that a small posse of Kinglers snaking behind him, all heading towards her.
Things were getting too hot in here. Looking back for the bubbles, she found one, drifting absently low towards the ground near her, and another higher close to that, both leading to an ajar windowsill near the ceiling. Now was a good time to see if she still had that move down pat.
Standing herself back up on her tail, she tensed her muscles and sprang forth, flipping through the air with acrobatics- a little move she had picked up some time before. The white flippers of her tail collided with the large bubble's gleaming surface, bursting it and sending her upwards. Continuing to spin through the air, surrounded by sparkling droplets, she performed the same maneuver again on the next aquatic balloon and flipped herself up to the open windowsill, landing with perfect posture well above the action below.
Gazing outside, she was met with the all-too-familiar sight of the isle she called home for a while: low, dull, gray clouds blotted the night sky with ceaseless plains of flat, punctuated by a lazy fog solemnly drifting out over the endless sea that had wrapped itself around this stony isle like a blanket. Peeking down, the drop was immense: nothing but a stone-faced cliffside leading to a sheer drop into crashing waves of white below. It had to have been at the very least a hundred-foot fall. Thankfully for her, she was quite familiar with these waters, and knew the depth ran deep with no protrusions hiding beneath the surface.
"Amara!" a pitched voice shouted below. Looking back into the room, she saw Skipper plaster against the wall beneath her, reaching his hand up for her dangling tail despite the at-least twenty-foot gap between them. "Together, we would be the best divers the ocean's ever knew!" he pleaded. "With my everything, and your skill, we would be legends! So many ruins, so many treasures, all for us! Think of the conversations we would start!"
A small chuckle left Amara's throat as she gripped the corners of the brick walls outside the window, sliding herself closer to the edge and leaning out. "That's the thing, Gary!" she shouted back. She released her grip on the wall, letting herself slowly fall back outside. "I want to start more than a conversation."
"It's Skipper!"
She was gone.
The whip of rushing air surrounded her body as she fell, speeding past the cliff-face to the breaking waves below, led by gravity. Hands clasped together, she straightened her body into an arrow pointed to the heart of the sea, drawn closer and closer to the waiting tide below.
Piercing the body of the ocean, she slipped into the water with little more than a splash, feeling the lovely cold she had grown accustomed to welcoming her, seeing the deep azure rush around her; hearing its lovely low booms as waves slammed the gleaming surface above her. Twisting her body, she oriented herself towards where the docks she needed to be at were, and began swimming, gliding through the sapphire water like a feather carried by wind.
Here, she was home.
—-
As the waves gently lapped against the barrier of stone and rock, as water receded back into the infinite volume it had known laced with uncountable, unknowable possibilities, here lay Amara: wishing she brought a towel.
Her blue coat was absolutely soaked by the dive- a small price to pay to elude that stuffed-up duck, she supposed. It shouldn't have mattered too much, but here and now, she wanted to look her best for the inevitable act of grand persuasion to come: she had nothing to her name now, nothing but the literal clothes on her back and a literal handful of coins she had leftover before Gary- or Skipper, same difference- had sank her old vessel and everything on it. She could have easily dived to retrieve what she could, and she did.
Turns out all that was salvageable from a shipwreck laden with cannon-holes were those scant few coins. Not much else was quite so fortunate.
And here she now laid, back arched up and perched upon arms, here to work a miracle and persuade the waiting Klefki beside her to let her have a brand new ship for nothing more than enough coins to buy a good breakfast.
"Again, I am really really sorry for the wait," Amara apologized. "Just got caught up in some, uh, personal business."
The Klefki had not been looking at her. Even when she emerged from the shore just a few moments ago, the Klefki's gaze had only momentarily flicked towards her before wandering… everywhere else, scanning the rocks around them, checking the flat, mossy plains behind them, or worryingly glancing upward. Most of all, the floating keychain's attention would always fall to the large, rusted building nestled on the shore beside them. No doubt the 'boat' if one were here, was in there. The numerous keys it held had been rattling throughout the whole encounter, but never shook more than when it looked to that storehouse. It had also been quite convenient that when she started looking to buy a vessel, this Klefki had been very eager to sell her one.
Too eager.
Truthfully, she had worried she may have found herself in some sort of trap, but despite the Klefki's shifty behavior, Amara knew she had no choice but to play along given the lack of alternatives. Even if she did find herself surrounded, she felt assured knowing she had her own ace. "So…" she started again. "Got a name?"
The Klefki's small face flicked towards her, then away again. "N-Name? S-Sure. Fidget."
Fidget. How appropriate. "Fidget! I like it!" she smiled. "So Fidget, look… I'm in a bit of a sea pickle right now. I'll level with you: I'm kind of in need of this boat of yours, and soon." She reached into her coat's soggy pockets and fetched out seven golden coins- all she could offer. Fidget looked at the coins- longer than he ever looked at her- then turned away. Looking at the pitiable amount herself, she knew she would have a better chance of getting a new vessel through one drifting onto shore than whatever she was doing here. But life had always been a gamble, and she never doubted any of her chances. "This… is all I can offer. Sorry."
Fidget was silent, still focused on the storehouse.
Amara grumbled. Reaching to the sides of her head, she plucked both of the silver pins off, holding the familiar stars in her hand. A family heirloom she cherished, and deeply. They had been priceless. Their silver-gleam and small emerald-sheen encrusted in the center of them had always been a fond, nostalgic reminder of the life she left behind.
It was folly to cherish such memories, she knew, but cherish them she did. And here she was, going to pawn them off for a chance of a better life. Clutching them close, she released the breath she had unknowingly held in her throat. "And if the coins aren't enough, well…"
A sudden boom of thunder cracked overhead, startling Fidget with a squeal. The Klefki quickly fled behind Amara, cowering behind her from nothing. "The coins will do!" he shouted.
Amara froze, staring absently at the keychain. "I'm sorry, what?"
Before they could speak again, a rolling, tumbling noise grew behind them. A piece of large stone had been dislodged and had been speeding down a mossy slope towards them, growing and growing in speed as it tumbled, seemingly attracted towards the two in an unnatural path.
The Klefki shrieked again as a bright pink light enveloped them, closing his eyes tight when a boom finally ringed out. When he finally opened his squeezed eyes, he was surprised to see small chunks of the rock rain down and settle around them.
Amara retracted her arm back towards her, a pink, whirring hue settling from her arm. Moonblast had always been one of her favorite moves, and it was a shame she hadn't been able to use more often.
Clearing her throat and feeling self-satisfied, she finally noticed that Fidget was shakingly grabbing her close, still afraid. She gently pried him off her, chuckling awkwardly. "Okay, so what were you saying bef-"
"One coin!" Fidget exclaimed.
"I- One- What?"
Before she could organize her thoughts, Fidget had quickly zipped over to the storehouse and fumbled with the keys on its body, raising and lowering them frantically. Having finally found the right one, it thrust the key into the door and unlocked it, flinging the door wide open before retreating back to her. As Amara watched in bewilderment, Fidget had snagged a singular coin from her palm, leaving behind the six others and the jewelry, and nearly zipped away before Amara reached out and grabbed him. "Wait a minute! What do you mean 'one coin?' What's the rush, guy? Like, are you sure?"
As she spoke, a series of loud snaps banged from behind her. The giant gate that would permit any boats in and out of the storehouse suddenly snapped from its hinges, keeling forward before splashing against the water's surface, slowly sinking from sight. Inside the dark interior of the building had been a boat's broad silhouette, and not modest in size either.
"Very sure!" Fidget wretched himself free from Amara's grasp, and flew away, quickly speeding across the plains and disappearing into the veil of fog. "Buh-bye!"
He was gone.
Amara could only remain still as she processed what had happened. Blinking herself back to reality, she put away the rest of the six coins and carefully reattached the pins to her head. A small, aching feeling crept in her stomach, but nonetheless, she had gotten- maybe- what she had wanted.
Looking towards an inconspicuous pile of stone outcroppings that lay mostly concealed in the fog, she waved her hand. "Belle!" she shouted. "I'm still alive! You can come out now!"
From the fog, soft mechanical steps began making their way towards her. A circular shape soon took form within the fog, perched by round limbs and rabbit-like ears. Even closer, two dim red lights beamed through the fog.
Having cleared the visual smear, the mechanical marvel comfortably stood in front of Amara. Their intricate design, vivid golden trims and metallic sheen still as vivid as the day before, and neatly tucked, small blue scarf hugging their neck.
Belle, the Magearna.
Amara reached forward, lightly punching the machine in her shoulder. "See? Told you I had time."
Belle's large 'ears' twitched, and a feminine- though somewhat hollow and digitized- voice spoke. "Conjecture: A meeting this late at night, so far from town, by ourselves, in the middle of a secluded location? And so close after that little personal stunt you pulled on a cliff-side manor? Which may I remind you, you insisted you go alone in spite of my warnings? We are in little position for such risk-taking. We were lucky that Klefki was just as spineless as he seemed, and not a criminal-character leading us into an ambush to capture you." The Magearna pressed the tips of their hands together and shook her head. "Sigh, where would you be without me?"
"I could ask the same thing to you," Amara countered.
"Clarification: Oh, please. When did I ever say I objected to such risks? I just ask that the next time you intend to throw yourself into trouble, you simply have me by your side, not monitoring from afar to help after trouble finds you. These risks are what I love about you; they are an opportunity to put these processors to good use and devise ingenious solutions and calculations."
Amara smiled. "I know." She spun herself around, dragging herself over the dew-ridden grass towards the dilapidated storehouse. "Now come on! I think we've finally got a new ride out of this inlet!"
The two made their way to the newly opened building; Belle of course politely keeping pace with the handicapped Primarina, and peered inside the dark interior alongside her.
To say it was 'dark' inside would be an understatement; it was more like light had been banished from the expansive room, forbidden from creeping in. Even if it was night in the middle of a cloudy overcast, the storehouse itself seemed surprisingly dim. Specks of dust made themselves known as they lazily drifted to the open air outside, as did a musky, rusted scent. Belle was the first to enter. Immediately looking to the side of the wall, she flipped a switch Amara could not see, and lights flickered… and flickered. They refused to spark to life, only sputtering like a dying breath. In the throes of light, the ship's profile could be made out in intervals.
It was a dull teal, the hull bolted together from many individual, meshing sheets of various shapes and sizes. As expected of a boathouse nestled on the shore, it seemed to float blissfully on water, leading directly out to the expansive gray and blue. A raised front cabin housing the steering equipment and loose, strewn ropes headed the vessel, and in the back they could spy doorways lowered into the floor beside a central staircase, leading to another entrance inside the ship.
As they paced around the old ship, examining each and every facet, both their attention fell onto a peculiar deck on the very back of the ship. Just looming over the otherwise featureless area, had been a large, bell-shaped object chained to a small crane embedded in the ship, just protruding over the back's edge. A closer inspection revealed it to be hollow, with small ledges within that one could sit on.
"Woah," Amara whispered. "Any idea what this doohickey is?"
Belle stood in silence for a few seconds as she collected her thoughts, finally speaking without turning away. "Observation: this thingamabob is a diving bell. Explanation: my records indicate these were chambers used to quickly transport divers between the surface to the ocean's depths below, whilst offering modest carrying capacity and the precious air you and other organics seem to love so much."
"A diving bell, huh?" Amara repeated. The bell had been just low enough for her to stand up and reach its cusp, feeling the sturdy, rigid metal hull. "Wow, can't say I ever expected to have something like this! It should be useful, right?"
"Evaluation: it will be useful."
Belle left Amara be as she wandered off, continuing to examine the ship. As the Magearna approached the other side of the ship, completing a lap, a singular plank positioned between the bay she was on and on to the ship's central deck was found. She took her first steps onto it, and immediately the wood began to creak underneath her weight. Undeterred, the Magearna continued onward, each step beset by the threat of the wood snapping and her falling into the water below.
The main deck had confirmed what she suspected: this vessel was in surprisingly fair condition, despite the environment it was stored in. Other than the teal paint chipping away in some places, losing space to rust; or clumps of dust gathering in corners like stowaways, this ship was in fine shape.
Her ears perked, hearing the familiar, granular sliding of Amara coming aboard as well.
"This is better than anything we could have hoped for!" Amara said, still taking in the vehicle around her. "I've checked the rotors- a bit, anyway- and they seem like they're brand new! I saw no holes on the hull, either, and speaking of that," she gestured around the whole of the ship, "think how much we can store here! Way more than our last girl."
Belle tapped a digit to her unmoving face. "Speculation: given the diving bell present on the rear of the ship, this boat was likely customized, likely once used for the very diving purposes you are imagining now and faring the sea. Conclusion: this boat will serve us well."
"I know, right?" Amara swooned. "Just imagine it: we can finally get back to the sea again, see so many sights, locales! So many environments and people! And… and!" Her arms were curled close to her chest, eyes squeezed tight as she lost herself in her imagination. "All the ruins we can visit and treasures to find! So many old artifacts and lost knowledge! And all for one coin, too!"
"Statement: that was a very exceedingly generous transaction. This ship has passed my analysis, and seems to eagerly await us to take her to the water. That Klefki must have been selfless for such a charitable act." Belle's gaze swung onto Amara, no longer scanning the vessel. "Or deceptively selfish."
That had knocked Amara back to the planet. "Selfish? How? What could possibly be wrong with this boat?" At that moment, one of the flickering lights above whirred to a violent hum, glowing unbearably bright before suddenly popping, raining glass shards down below onto them as Amara yelped and covered herself. Belle simply stood there and let the shards bounce off her body. Slowly looking up, Amara found Belle's stoic eyes locked onto her.
"Mockery: Selfish? How? What could possibly be wrong with this boat?" Belle had played back Amara's own voice to her.
"Well, okay, things have been maybe just a little teensy-bit strange around this ship, but think how lucky we are to have gotten a ship for one coin! Now come on, you worrying-bucket-of-bolts! Let's take her out!"
Amara went to pull up the plank they had used to get aboard, but as soon as her hands touched the wood, it instantly cracked and splintered at its center, shattering in half and falling into the water below. She didn't move as she looked down as the pieces sank into the water, shrinking from view, only able to helplessly watch.
Belle was already on her way to the front cabin, taking measured steps up the stairs and reaching the steering wheel and a panel full of levers, knobs, and deactivated lights. Reaching forward, she planted a hand on the wheel and raised another over a key still in the ignition. "Cautionary;" Belle suddenly spoke. "I am about to turn on the engine. Should this vessel spontaneously combust and you unfortunately perish in the blaze, know that it has been my pleasure and utter joy to have traveled with you, no matter how brief and short-lived our journey had been. I will mourn you for the rest of my days, and cherish these memories. You have been a good friend."
Amara's head jerked up, and she spun towards the Magearna. "Wait, why am I the only one dying in that scenario?"
Belle twisted the key.
A low growl reverberated somewhere within the ship, and rhythmic pulses vibrated through the floor's surface, building in speed. Soon, the engine roared to life and the panel illuminated itself in small lights of red and green. The vessel had come to life.
"Congratulatory: you have not died!"
Belle flipped a series of levers and spun some knobs with a knowing confidence. Grabbing a larger lever, she gently pushed it forward. The scenery of the old warehouse soon began to move past them, becoming replaced by fog and the endless sea as the hull sliced through water.
The Magearna's head spun around as her body remained staunchly locked forward. "Query: my navigational functions remain compromised, though should serve to guide us to a basic, limited level. Where shall I sail us to, Captain?"
Amara slid herself across the deck, propping herself up on the lip of the ledge. Looking out, feeling the cold, refreshing air breeze past her, feeling a familiar sense of freedom as she cast her gaze out over the sea, she knew immediately where they would go. With any luck, they'd be there shortly.
"Yeah," she finally spoke, still lost within the boundless majesty of the ocean. "Take us further north. To the Gelid Spires."
