"Is the oil heated?"

"Should be, Mr Walker. It reads one-hundred and ten on the instrument."

"A little low for my liking, but still safely in the boundaries to start. Midshipman Darren!"

A young boy in his early teens, if Archer had to guess, snapped to attention.

"Aye, Mr Walker sir!"

Lawrence huffed a little at the title, but kept any course words to himself.

"We're ready to go! Run the message to the captain, if you'd be so kind."

"Aye sir! At once sir!"

The boy bounded around the corner, and Archer could faintly hear the sound of him clambering up the ladders to the decks above. Lawrence's half-amused voice filled the silence for a moment as he spoke.

"I'm fairly certain the midshipmen call me 'sir' just to annoy me at this point. They know I'm no sir, yet they do it anyway no matter how many times I tell them not to bother."

The engineer shrugged, seemingly to himself, and continued.

"Ah well. There's plenty worse nicknames to be given."

"Such as?"

Lawrence turned to him, seemingly confused. Perhaps he had not realised he spoke aloud?

"Hm? What was that?"

"Have you ever been given a nickname, Mr Walker?"

The man chuckled a little before speaking, seemingly recalling a fond memory.

"Yes, I have. When I was younger, probably no older than Midshipman Darren is now, the crewmates I was around used to call me 'Ice-Eyes'."

"Why was that?"

"Well, there were two reasons I suppose. The first, most obvious reason, is simply the colour of my eyes."

He motioned towards his eyes, and Archer realised upon closer inspection that, yes, they were an almost glacier-blue colour. He leaned back and nodded, and so Lawrence continued.

"The second reason was because... well, I'm sure you've noticed that I'm probably the biggest stickler for following regulations and generally appearing stern out of everyone aboard that you've met so far?"

Archer nodded, hoping his agreement wouldn't come across as offensive or simply plain rude, but if he found Archer's agreement to be so then the engineer didn't admonish him for it, simply carrying on with an almost fond smile on his face.

"Well, believe it or not I've 'mellowed out' considerably, according to Cooke at least. I like to think I have as well. When I was younger I would never have dreamed of stepping a single pace out of line, and I was often confused when I found that others never held to the rules as rigidly as I did. Apparently I had an almost glazed-over expression, a lack of emotion in my eyes, hence 'Ice-Eyes'. To be honest I do not believe I could physically have made myself break out of my schedules and protocols back then. I don't think I started to break that cycle until... well, there's no need to get into that. What about you, Mr Haywood? Any nicknames of your own?"

Archer rubbed his chin with his hand, thinking hard for a moment. Not just on nicknames from his past, but on the words of Mr Walker. There was something at the end of his statement that made Archer most curious, and to be honest the thought of Lawrence being truly stern was a little intimidating. He was just glad that the man had loosened up a little since then; he didn't think he'd make it long without breaking as the apprentice of a strict and apparently emotionless boss.

"Nicknames for me? Well, I suppose you aren't looking for vaguely insulting monikers from the son of a baronet?"

Lawrence grimaced.

"Ah, one of those nobles was he?"

Archer returned the expression.

"Yep. He was never a true bully or anything of the like, just a bit of an uncouth individual."

Lawrence nodded.

"A spoiled brat then?"

"Pretty much, yep. The baronet himself is a nice man though, and my family's done well by him. He used to call me 'Bowman' after I played with a toy bow and arrow set, I think as a play on 'Archer', even though I don't think I've ever handled a bow since that one time back then. He was still calling me it as he said his goodbyes to me before I left."

Lawrence smiled.

"He sounds like a pleasant individual."

"Indeed. I think that's the only real nickname I've ever had. Although I do recall there being one more nickname you've had."

His tone became lightly teasing towards the end, and Lawrence must have immediately known what he was going to say. The engineer's tone was one of light warning and mild amusement.

"I'll stop you there, Mr Haywood. There's only one man aboard the ship who calls me 'Lawrie', and I'd prefer it if that number didn't grow any greater."

Archer bowed dramatically, a feigned gesture of submission that had the other man let out a bark of laugher.

"Alright, alright, no need for that. Come on, let's move on from that."

Archer nodded, still smiling.

"So, how long do you think until we take off?"

Lawrence pulled a bit of a face, his expression seeming a little jittery, perhaps with anticipation?

"I'm not rightly sure. It should be soon, but I'm surprised we haven't set off already."

"Do you think perhaps the Midshipman got lost aboard the ship?"

Lawrence chuckled a little.

"If he has then he knows his friends will never let him forget it. But no; the Midshipmen all know this ship almost as well as I do, after all, most of the time they're running around ferrying messages and supplies back and forwards, or else performing low-skilled maintenance. You know, cleaning, adjusting the rigging, that sort of thing. Keeps them busy and helps them get to know the Sunbird a little better."

"Ah, I see. So you think it's just taking the captain a little while to get us moving, or what?"

Lawrence nodded.

"The engines will take a moment to fire, but I think they'll be on in a moment or so. Which reminds me, seeing as you've never been aboard an airship before you should probably hold on to the railings pretty hard. Your body won't be expecting the sudden jolt as the ship slips its fastenings on the port. She's also likely to list to and fro a little as she stabilises- herself, and if you aren't used to such motions it can be quite the turnaround."

Archer nodded, firmly placing his hands on the bars of the railings and gripping just tight enough to be firm, but not so much that he was at risk of hurting his hands. There was little to no reason to ignore Lawrence's advice, of course, so he figured he'd just do as he was told for now.

"I take it you don't need to bother?"

The engineer strutted over next to Archer, hands clasped behind his back.

"Certainly not. I've spent my life aboard this airship, after all. I know the motions well by now. At the risk of sounding self-congratulatory, which I promise you is not my intent, I find that countering such motions is almost second-nature to me at this point."

Archer nodded stiffly, a sense of nervous trepidation filling him. As soon as the engines fired, as soon as the ship slipped its moorings, he'd have no way back home until they returned to Albion, and there was no telling when that might be. Nought but the captain could decide his course from here on out.

There was a sudden noise from his right as the engines fired and the other flight systems came online; turbines at the rear and air-pumps feeding into the great balloon added their sounds to the great resounding din as the ship came to life around him. The Sunbird lurched a little as the moorings attaching them to the harbour were detached by dockhands, and Archer did his best to stop himself being rushed forwards as best he could given the inherent instability of his feet when faced with such a strange and alien sensation. As the bird turned in the air, prow facing south and rear to King's Cove Harbour, he marvelled at the sight of the ground moving beneath him, far away. Lawrence walked back over to him, the man, true to his word, seemingly having no issue walking as the ship listed, hands still behind his back and a satisfied expression on his face.

"It's a beautiful sight, isn't it? The worries of the world slip away for just a moment, overturned by the roaring of the engines and the howling of the wind."

Archer nodded breathlessly as the world he knew fell away behind him, leaving only the path in front of him to tread. Even though they had hardly moved a dozen metres, the feeling was still breathtaking.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. Thank you, Lawrence. I'm glad to be serving on the Sunbird with you."

The man beamed at him and patted him on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

"For that I am glad. You're new to the job but you're already learning, probably more than you realise as well. You've picked up the names of a great many of the tools, you've learned why you shouldn't cold start an engine and how to avoid it, and above all you're able to recognise when you don't know how to do something and ask for help. You might not think that last one is important, but trust me, when it comes to work like this the accuracy of our work is so much more important than our pride, so thank you for that. In a few minutes we'll head off to the damaged walkway to check it over and mark down what needs to be done, or fix it on the spot if the damage isn't too bad, but for now I think you've earned a few minutes rest to enjoy your first flight."

Archer smiled giddily as the airship began to pick up speed, King's Cove Harbour gradually receding into the distance. He nodded in acknowledgement of the other man's words

Stolen story; please report.

"Of course, Mr Walker. Please let me know if and when we need to move on; I'd hate to think my excitement caused us to fall behind schedule."

There was a little amusement in Lawrence's retort.

"Is that a witticism or are you being genuine?"

"Genuine, why?"

Lawrence let out a hearty chuckle.

"Mr Haywood, please do not attempt to stifle your own enjoyment or excitement at our journey purely for my sake. If I feel we're falling behind on something urgent you'll know, trust me."

"And for the non-urgent?"

Lawrence leaned on the railings next to him, and Archer turned a little where he stood to better look at him whilst the two of them conversed.

"What about them?"

"What if we fall behind on the repairs? What will we do if we get swamped with minor systems to repair?"

Lawrence shrugged, completely unconcerned with a genuine and sincere inflection to his words.

"There's always tomorrow, Mr Haywood. The non-urgent can always wait until tomorrow, until tomorrow is free enough that we can do those jobs. That's the important lesson here, Mr Haywood."

"What, to rank jobs in order of importance?"

Lawrence shook his head and looked out over the skies around them.

"No, Mr Haywood. It's good advice, to be sure, but it isn't the lesson here.

"Then what is?"

"That tomorrow isn't going anywhere, Mr Haywood. It'll always wait for us to catch up, one day or the next. You can't let yourself be consumed with deadlines and schedules as I once did when I was a boy. If you do then you'll miss the storm for the clouds."

Archer nodded and looked back out over the same skies as his mentor. The words seemed oddly insightful, and a part of him was glad to have heard them. It helped him alleviate a little part of his anxieties that he hadn't really known was there.

"I see, Mr Walker. My thanks for your advice."

There was silence after that, for nothing else needed to be said. Instead, the two men simply enjoyed watching the world fall away behind them, all worries lost to the world.

----------------------------------------

He'd spent much of the next few days in a constant state of euphoria. It was a strange but not at all unwelcome thing; from the moment he awoke to the moment he fell back to sleep there seemed to be a smile on his lips and a spring in his step, for he was seemingly always excited to be flying. He'd done his best to tone his excitement down of course, he didn't want to come across as unseemly after all, but even so at times he caught himself looking almost dopey as he went about his day.

Still, it wasn't completely happiness. He also maintained a healthy level of anxiety in the back of his mind, for despite doing his best to shed his old misgivings and nervous thoughts relating to flying that some might have called superstitions, memories of lectures about the Leviathan remained. Lawrence's stories about life on an airship and his service alongside the Behemoth, Leviathan's sister-ship, had been a great help for the settling of his nerves, but there was still quite the anxious whirring in the back of his mind whenever something went wrong.

But all of that was immaterial at the moment, for his constant anxious yet exhilarated state brought with it a rather useful and yet totally unforeseen side effect; the fact that he almost always had a breathless smile on his face all hours of the day made him annoyingly good at card games. At first he was a little confused as to why, since it wasn't like his hands were any better than normal, until he realised that his constant smile meant no-one could get a read on him.

"You know I despise you sometimes, Lawrence."

The sulking tone of Talwynn cut through the low din of the mess hall, the young woman only just realising that the engineering officer had been targeting her ever since her comment about laziness before they'd even set off from King's Cove. Seeing as it'd been around four days since then and they were set to pass Terwall Landing that night, it was a miracle she hadn't picked up on it sooner. Lawrence, for his part, just shrugged.

"I still have yet to receive an apology for your comment, Ms Trenholm. Your assertion that I lack diligence in my duties was most hurtful."

"And you can expect that apology to remain out of reach until you start playing nice!"

Lawrence smiled smugly at her. All present knew he hadn't been affected by her joke in the slightest, but it had made for a convenient casus belli for his card-game chicanery.

"Do you think I can't outlast you, Talwynn? You think I can't break your spirit through card games? Give in now, and you might have a chance at winning tonight's game."

The woman groaned so loudly Archer was fairly certain it was audible from Terwall.

"Fine, sorry for calling you lazy. Can you stop specifically targeting me in these games at your own expense now?"

Lawrence nodded, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Well, doesn't someone look like the cat who got the cream?"

The ever-cheery voice of Talon came from his side, and the people at the table turned to look at the approaching young man with smiles and small waves.

"Mr Cooke," Archer began, "it is pleasant to see you."

The man waved his compliment off, smiling all the while.

"You're too kind. Any chance I could join next round?"

"Of course!" Came the exclamation from the Corporal. "All done back there then?"

The chef nodded happily.

"Yep! All spic and span, everything cleared away or otherwise prepped for tomorrow."

Lawrence pulled out a seat to his right, and motioned for Cooke to sit. The man smiled brightly and nodded his thanks before seating himself, Talwynn explaining that he'd need to wait for the next round to be dealt in but that they shouldn't take long to finish this one up.

Lawrence and Cooke exchanged a glance and a smile at each other before the conversation started back up, Sergeant Rickard putting forwards a humorous motion about whether or not Talwynn should be allowed to fire the guns at passing seagulls. Lawrence's vehement denial was countermanded by both Corporal Rickard and Talon Cooke, the two of which eventually arriving at the 'compromise' solution that she should only be allowed to fire the massive sixty-eight pounders at the birds and nothing else. It was all purely conjecture of course; there was no way anyone would waste ammunition on shooting down birds whilst the remnants of the rebel fleets were still hiding out in the territories of Albion's continental allies, but the conversation was humorous enough that almost every person sat at the table ended up bowled over with laughter. Well, the gin they'd all been drinking probably helped a little, but still.

One round turned into two, two turned into four and four into ten, but still they remained around that table laughing and joking and drinking. Some of them drank a lot more than the others; Archer noted that his own boss seemed to be drinking far slower than the rest of them, but then he supposed that the man had personally admitted that he hadn't the greatest tolerance for alcohol. Not that it mattered of course, he was still here and enjoying himself with the rest of them. Besides, Archer had only had a drink or two more than Lawrence had, and as such wasn't in much of a position to comment. No-one was really drinking to excess anyway, since no-one wanted to deal with a hangover while on-duty tomorrow.

"Right, show of hands then. Lawrence?"

"Three of a kind, sevens."

"Cooke?"

"Pair of fours."

No wonder the man folded early, Archer thought to himself, no-one wants to be caught with a single pair that low down, let alone one reliant on cards purely in the centre-table.

"Talwynn?"

"Pair of eights. What about you, Sarge?"

The man grumbled, but something about his tone spoke to Archer of suppressed happiness.

"We'll wait for mine, I think. Nephew, how about you?"

The man blushed.

"High card, seven."

The sergeant muttered a curse under his breath.

"God's sake Owen, I thought I raised you better than that! You should've folded half a round ago! You don't have a high card, that's not possible when there's a pair in the centre, you have a pair of fours!"

The younger of the two blushed a little and huffed out a laugh as he realised his mistake.

"I know, I know! Leave me be!"

The older of the two marines muttered some choice words, but failed to suppress his smile.

"Archer, what about you?"

He grinned and placed his two cards with a flourish.

"Full house, three sevens and two fours."

The people sat at the table gave a lazy clap as he smiled, the only exception being Sergeant Rickard.

"Very good. Very good indeed. It doesn't quite beat this though."

The man placed down a five and a six, and Archer raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're almost at a straight, but you're still missing a card."

The man smiled.

"Am I? As far as I recall I haven't yet cashed in my hail-mary from the start of our little game, and it just so happens that I have a three."

The man turned the card face up, and Archer cursed in mock-anger. Yep, he had a straight alright. The man reached forwards to shake his hand with a satisfied smile on his face, which Archer couldn't help but return.

"You win this round, Mr Rickard. You win this round."

"Oh, trust me lad, I know."

The man's words were thick with both his Ewyngan accent and his smugness, but the game was all in good faith. Second place wasn't that bad after all. Talon just seemed to be happy he hadn't come dead last thanks to folding early, which Archer was a little glad for. He knew the games were only for fun but he would gladly call Talon his friend, and as such he didn't want the kind man to lose too harshly the first time Archer had been able to play with him. It would hardly be sporting, after all.

----------------------------------------

A few hours later Archer found himself lounging on the wooden deck with Lawrence the two of them dangling lying parallel to the edge of the ship and passing a bottle back and forwards between them. It was a nice break from everything for Archer, and he gathered Lawrence felt the same. Nothing to do, nothing to keep track of. There was just a bottle, some quiet company, and the opportunity to watch Terwall pass away behind them.

"A part of me is disappointed; I've never been to Terwall Landing before. It would've been nice to see some of the sights."

Lawrence grunted his acknowledgement of Archer's words.

"It's a nice enough place, for being groundside at least. There's some good night-life there as well."

"You've been to Terwall before?"

It was a silly question, and Archer knew it. He was speaking to an Albionic Aetherborn, of course the man had been to Terwall before. Lawrence just huffed out a laugh, a smirk evident in his voice.

"Mr Haywood, I've docked in just about every harbour worth visiting from The Rock to Last Stop Port. If you've heard of a port, I've been there."

"Auld-Kern?"

"Yep."

"The Gulls' Pastures?"

"Technically not a port, but yes. You can't sleep a mote for all the noise, and the cleaners are working all hours of the day."

"Blacksnow?"

Lawrence shivered to his right.

"Indeed. Frightfully cold, and I'm not just talking about the weather. I'll not be returning there if I can help it."

Archer nodded absentmindedly, and the two of them lapsed back into silence. The thousands of lights that marked Terwall Landing were growing smaller as they began to cross the sea towards Gaul.

All of a sudden there was a great crashing noise, and Archer made to rise to investigate. Lawrence put a hand on his shoulder and tugged him back down before he'd had a chance to rise, gesturing down at the waters below with his free hand. Turning his eyes where he was bid, Archer was greeted with one of the most awe-inspiring sights he had ever seen. A kraken broke the surface of the waves in pursuit of its quarry, a great dunkleosteus, which did it's best to flee its much swifter pursuer. Half a dozen tentacles broke the surface of the water, and Archer could just about make out the outline of the other four in the fading light just beneath the surface. Each tentacle was easily more than a hectare long, and the one eye that Archer could see above from this angle must have been several metres across.

He gasped in awe as the tentacles wrapped their way around the colossal fish before it turned itself away and dragged its unfortunate prey down to the depths. It was a truly amazing and frightening sight. There was little wonder mankind had given up on sailing as soon as airships were developed. It was curious, however. Just before the creature had turned and left back for the depths, he could have sworn that that colossal eye had, for just a moment, swivelled to look directly at him. To be acknowledged by such a creature, a veritable leviathan in its own right... it was a breathtaking experience.

He just about caught Lawrence smiling at him from out of the corner of his eye, the man taking a swig from the bottle before wiping it off and passing it back to Archer, who took a deep gulp of his own.

"Amazing, isn't it? To see something that big, something that long-lived, and know that it's seen you. That it knows you're there. There's a strange sense of awe the first time you experience it, isn't there?"

Archer nodded, still a little dumbfounded, before responding.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. There's been a lot of that going around at the moment, I think."

Lawrence laughed good-naturedly and flashed him his easy smile as he rose from where he lay, offering Archer his hand.

"Come on, let's get back to quarters. We've had enough entertainment for one night, I think."

Archer nodded and took his hand, rising to his feet. He looked out over at Terwall Landing in the distance, the thousands of once-discernible lights gradually melting away and blending into one until they could hardly be told apart from the thousands of stars above them.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I'll see you tomorrow, Mr Walker."

The man nodded and smiled back at him.

"You as well, Mr Haywood. Sleep well."