The Adventures Of Mara Spyre

Blue sky for miles. The Earth, miniature and amalgamated into a single shape below with nondescript features from this lofty distance. This is what it feels like to be alive according to Mara Spyre. She adjusted goggles on her face to keep the wind from damaging her vision. Everyday spent on the Flow brought her joy, but today was especially thrilling. Today, her grin spread wide, eyes shining with adventure, the sun blinding against a cloudless sky.

She gripped the ship's wheel with gloved hands and twisted hard to the right. The mountains were coming into view now. Large, rusty propellers overhead made their distinctive whoop whoop whoop, a sound she had come to love. This was her third yearly cycle in this machine she had lovingly called Grimulus. Grimulus had gotten her through some hard times and even brought her unexpected fortunes. Today, oh the sweet thrill of the hunt was coursing through her veins as she guided Grimulus through the floating Island City of Vells. Vells was ancient, but still active. One of the oldest places left that still housed people. The world had become wild and not in a safe way for human beings. Mara slowed the engine with a rusty lever. The cry of metal grinding followed a putter as the engine brought Grimulus slowly into port at the City of Vells central marketplace. It was a high profile landing, but she wasn't trying to be covert, today. She had nothing to hide about her intentions in Vells, and of the many places she'd explored, Vells had proven one of the safest.

She locked the wheel in place and pulled several more levers while Grimulus creaked under her commands. The flying machine was a bucket, but it was hers and she knew every bolt, hand repaired each issue that came up, and had the distinctive smell of oil, soaked into her leather bodice. Creamy lace billowed out from under the leather edges of her skirt as she made her way to the landing. Hard pilot boots with a sturdy heel and golden buckles wrapped against the grating on the ramp. She adjusted her hat and lifted the goggles to its brim. No need for goggles on the ground. Mara was in good shape, the envy of men who wished she would be theirs. She would never settle, the adventure of soaring the Flow was her mate, her life and ties to other people would make that impossible. She traded her flying gloves for some fingerless leather ones that she liked to wear in the market, plus, they had brass knuckle disks riveted to the back in case she had to get into a fight. She also slung her sword over her shoulder and a leather satchel over the other. Business should be swift, she hoped.

Thurmell would be home, he never went anywhere anyway. Blindness stopped his adventuring, but Mara always brought him tales and wares from her worldly travels. Thurmell was like a father to her. Her parents had been killed when she was ten, now, ten years later would they be happy to see the woman she has become? Had she lived up to their expectations of her? Probably not, she mused. The people of Vells wore cottony cloth dresses and simple tunics with sandals on their feet. This sunny sky port was warm all year round and some of the best food could be grown on the lush terraces. Mara marveled at the mud huts, so simple, so austere, but so cozy. Thurmell always had some tantalizing fruits for her to eat and sometimes he sent her with a bag full. She hoped he would have some today.

"Thurmall" she called out, her voice like birdsong. She was a girly girl that always confused the men. They underestimated her because she was short, a fact she tried to remedy with the platform boots, but her petite size also attracted some of the more brutish men who would seek to rob her or take advantage of her in any way they could. Boy were they shocked when she happily kicked their asses and skipped away like a pixie.

Thurmall had not replied to Mara's call. The skin on her arms and neck lifted. Thurmall always replied to her call, for the past seven years, this was their greeting, and she had become accustomed to it. She cautiously approached the cloth door to his hut. Without announcing herself for a second time, she slowly pulled back the fabric and peered inside. The hut was spacious, there were two rooms, with a ceiling you could stand up underneath, holes molded into the walls let filtered sunshine dapple the floor between cloth curtains. The interior was empty, a steaming cup of liquid rested on a short table in the center of the room surrounded by cushy pillows. Thurmell usually spent the day there, he mustn't be too far away, Mara thought. Silently, she drew her sword and crept towards the bedroom, another stretch of fabric concealed the space beyond and there was no wind blowing. The world seemed too still. Blood rushed in Mara's ears. Her friend never napped during the day and rarely went out, especially when he knew she was coming, like he had on this occasion.

She carefully pulled back the fabric screen. Thurmell was kneeling on the ground at the foot of a low bed with modest coverings. His head rested on folded arms. He appeared to be sleeping, or thinking. The position was strange though, forced. Mara glanced around the room, there were no closets or wall coverings to conceal a person who might be hiding, the bed was crafted from the Earth with no space below for intruders. Her mind was on high alert for this scene was definitely wrong.

"Thurmell?" She whispered.

The old man's hearing was top notch since the loss of his sight, so he should have heard her. He made no indication that he had.

"Thurmell?" She questioned again, lowering her sword. She placed a hand on his shoulder. It was icy cold. She instantly recoiled and drew the sword again, backtracking towards the front door. Thurmell was dead. He had no wounds which led her to only one conclusion. He’d been poisoned. Mara poured the remainder of the mug into a vial from her satchel and exited the house as quickly as she could. Someone surely saw her go into the house. Was she being watched even now? Did they know where she was headed? Thurmell had important information for her, he had warned her. Why hadn’t she listened? Damn stubbornness she scolded herself, and now her friend was dead.

She wasted no time getting back onto Grimulus and firing him up for flight. Back on the Flow she would put him on autopilot and run the liquid through some tests. She had to know for sure if Thurmell had been poisoned. That would tell her a lot. This adventure just got dangerous. Would her prize be worth the risk? She hadn't realized others knew about the artifact, but of course, someone would have heard the legends. She lifted up her bodice to reveal a chocolate colored birthmark on her hip. It was shaped like a spiral with a line through the center. She had never understood what it meant, which was why this particular adventure had gotten her attention.

Mara stalked off the main deck to a small room lined with glass vials, equipment and a large table covered with paperwork and many projects being worked on all at once. She rooted through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. It was badly worn, paper so soft it felt like fabric, the folds were ripped in places, the symbol in the corner, a spiral with a line through its center teased her again. She had puzzled over this before. But now that Thurmell was dead, she had better figure it out and fast. Iif someone was following her because of the connection to this paper and her tattoo, she might end up dead too. She read the words again, just as mysterious as they were the first time she laid eyes on them when Thurmell had put in her hand a month ago.

Slipstream the Flow

Forgotten to time

Forever you go

Unbound and unwind

Curses you know

Now out of time

Become one, melt the stone

Or never you mind

What the hell! Someone was willing to kill her over this? What was she supposed to do? Clearly the message was meant for her, otherwise why would it have that strange symbol on it that matched the mark on her hip?

Fireworks sounded in the distance. She ran to the helm, heart pounding.

"Shit, already."

A ship twice her size and surely faster than her was gaining speed in the Flow about forty knots behind her current position.

"Here we go!" she yelled into the wind. Steeling herself to the hunt and the race, she grabbed the wheel and turned hard, steering the ship deeper into the Flow, the wind engulfed her, and sucked her in, she turned off the propeller and pulled the lever for the sky sails. Being small has its advantages. If they wanted her, they would have to catch her. Mara grinned wide and leaned into the wind, letting it pull Grimulus through like a slingshot.

"Come on boys, let's play."

To be continued...

I LOVE writing fantasy! Storytelling has always been a favorite past time for me. I would like to add more stories like this one, and continue Mara's Adventures. If it receives enough attention, I will consider adding to it. Thank you for reading!