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Chapter 69: Salvage

“You’ve never looked into what Pyro Aether can do?” Dellen said with some surprise.

Eliza was hesitant, “I have, but everything I’ve read has been as much myth as anything else, and I didn’t want to join the Aetheric Cultivators.”

Dellen nodded, “I’ve seen combat with Pyro Aether, basic flame manipulation and projection, I assume you could gain some form of heat resistance, the same way I’m resistant to electricity, then, most intimidatingly, a pyrokinetic shield.” He realised Eliza was staring.

“A pyrokinetic shield?”

“Creating a barrier of fire around your body to make you harder to hit or injure.”

Eliza shook her head, “Sounds dangerous.”

Dellen smiled, and pushed Aether to his hand, creating ball lightning, using it as a torch, “Come, let’s take a look in the ship and see what we can find.” They ventured away from the hole in the hull. The interior of the ship revealed a labyrinthine maze of corridors and chambers, once bustling with life, now frozen in a state of desolation. Tattered remnants of tapestries, adorned with faded symbols and regal emblems, hung on the walls, or lay on the floor, providing a glimpse into the airship's glorious past.

Dellen's ball lightning danced and flickered, casting shadows that seemed to breathe life into the dormant surroundings. They rounded a corner, and Dellen’s eyes widened in concern. Nestled within the darkened corridor, was a congregation of small, metallic squid. Each no larger than a clenched fist, they dotted the walls and numbered perhaps five hundred.

The squid shimmered with an iridescent sheen, their metallic bodies reflecting the ambient light in an enchanting display of colors. Gleaming shades of silver, copper, and gold danced across their surfaces.

Dellen’s ball lightning crackled, and the air came alive with gentle whirring sounds. The metallic squid, startled by their presence, sprang into action. With swift, synchronized movements, they unfurled their tentacles and took to the air, their flight resembling a graceful ballet. Somehow the shoal of squid glided about without a single collision.

Like miniature airships navigating invisible currents, the squid darted and weaved through the confined space, leaving behind trails of shimmering light. Their arms undulated with a rhythmic flutter, propelling them forward in a mesmerizing display of aerodynamic prowess.

Ball lightning at the ready, Dellen backed up, he suspected the squid were harmless, but with so many, he felt the need to be cautious. There was no need to be killed by squids again.

Despite their diminutive size, the squid exuded an air of mystery and grace. Their eyes, gleamed with an otherworldly luminescence, and their tentacles, fashioned with delicate metallic tendrils, dangled beneath them as they maneuvered through the corridor.

As Dellen and Eliza watched in fascination, the school of flying squid swiftly vanished into the shadows, leaving only a trail of fading glimmers behind. Dellen felt tension drain from him, but he kept his ball lightning ready.

“Those were unexpectedly beautiful,” Gilgamesh said.

“What were those?” Eliza asked.

“Squid, but not a species I ever saw in Copperopolis.”

“Do you think there are more aboard?” Eliza sounded curious rather than afraid.

“Maybe, that was a big storm, I wouldn’t be surprised if a few species sought refuge here, even if they wouldn’t normally call the ship home.”

Together, they ventured into forgotten cabins and storage compartments, their eyes scanning every nook and cranny in search of salvage. Occasionally they disturbed another cephalopod, the odd larger squid or octopus. In one room of broken crates, they found the remnants of what looked like a crab. Cabin after cabin yielded the same discoveries, broken crates, and empty shelves, hints of what might have been a once-laden cargo.

Eliza's voice broke the silence, her words tinged with a mix of trepidation and excitement, "Do you think we'll find anything of value?"

“Yes!” Came Finnegan’s yell.

Dellen and Eliza exchanged a quick glance before running toward the sound of Finnegan’s voice. Their footsteps echoed through the empty corridors as they hurried. Rounding a corner Dellen slowed as he found Finnegan, holding a lantern next to the entrance of a partially hidden compartment, his face beaming with a grin. He gestured for Dellen and Eliza to join him, his voice filled with excitement, "Look what I found!" Then he stopped and stared at the ball of crackling lightning in Dellen’s hand. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Dellen shrugged, “I suspect this will be common out here, every member of The Mercantile Guild is Aetherforged, I think most people outside of Copperopolis are.” He was trying to plant seeds to encourage Finnegan and Eliza to want to forge of their own accord. “Now, how did you come across a hidden compartment that hasn’t been torn open?”

Even obscured, Dellen was confused, past explorers should have forced their way in.

“I pushed at a piece of wood, and this crack opened up,” Finnegan explained.

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“What made you push this particular piece of wood?” Dellen asked.

“He probably tripped on it,” Gilgamesh said, “He seems nice, and very earnest, but the boy is clumsy.”

Finnegan looked embarrassed, “I tripped and landed on it.”

Gilgamesh laughed, but not unkindly.

“Well done,” Eliza said, “This may be the only find on the entire ship. How exciting!”

Dellen nodded in agreement, then put his hand on the opening and pushed, the wood was stiff. “Can you show me what you pressed?”

Finnegan put his hand out on a nondescript plank.

Dellen understood why it had been missed, there was nothing about the plank to differentiate it from any other piece of wood in the hallway. “Good find,” he said, pushing against the plank, it held firm, not giving or jiggling in any way. “I’m guessing that whatever mechanism ran this is partially jammed from the crash.”

“I’ll get my tools,” Finnegan said.

“No need.” Dellen pulled the energy out of his ball lightning, leaving Finnegan’s lamp as the only source of light, then he put his fingers back on the edge of the opening and heaved. The wood groaned and resisted, as if reluctant to yield to his efforts. He kept up the pressure, feeling muscles straining in his arms, back, and legs.

“I can just get my tools.”

Wood scraped against wood, and the door inched open, revealing the hidden compartment. Stale air rushed out to greet them.

“Yes, you could have gotten your tools, but this was much faster.” Dellen summoned another small ball lightning and stepped into the room, the compartment was modest in size, its walls constructed of weathered wood that showed the signs of wear and age, quite separate from the crash. Shelves lined the space, stretching from floor to ceiling, layers of dust coated the surfaces.

Upon closer inspection, the shelves revealed a collection of intriguing cargo. Old books, their leather covers cracked and worn, stood side by side with broken glass vials that must have cracked in the crash. Nestled among the worn pages of the old books, a delicate pendant caught Dellen's attention. It shimmered with a polished silver chain and showcased a vibrant gemstone at its center, a mesmerizing sapphire that seemed to sparkle beyond what should have been possible between the lightning and the lamp.

Adjacent to the pendant, a small velvet-lined box revealed a collection of meticulously crafted brooches. Each brooch boasted intricate designs, adorned with sparkling gemstones that winked in the faint light. One featured an emerald-green stone encased within a delicate silver filigree, while another displayed a ruby-red centerpiece framed by shimmering gold accents.

Dellen's gaze wandered to a small tray on one of the shelves, where a collection of vintage pocket watches rested side by side. The watches, with their ornate engravings and delicate hands frozen in time called to him. Dellen picked one up and blew the dust off. It was surprisingly heavy in his hand, feeling solid and reliable. He wound it, and released, letting a smile cross his lips as the second hand resumed its journey around the face. “Do either of you want one of these?”

“I do,” Finnegan said, almost running over despite being only a foot or so away in the cramped space.

Dellen further examined his own, it had a nautical theme, complete with an engraved compass.

“I’d never have been able to afford one of these in Copperopolis,” Eliza said, taking a watch for herself and holding it up against her. “I like this one,” she said and wound it up until it also began to tick. “What time is it?”

“Let’s find out back on the ship?” Dellen murmured as he continued to look about further down the shelves, a box of tarnished silverware revealed itself, bearing the faint traces of elaborate patterns etched into the metal. Forks, spoons, and knives, each with its own unique design, hinted at grand feasts and refined dining experiences. Dellen was beginning to wonder if this compartment held heirlooms looted from a noble house. It would explain why they were hidden.

In a corner, a porcelain figurine stood proudly, its delicate features preserved despite the passage of time. It depicted a graceful dancer, captured in a moment of beauty. Dellen stroked a finger over the material, wondering how it could have survived a violent crash.

Amidst the array of trinkets, a small glass bottle caught Dellen's eye. It contained a rainbow-hued collection of sea glass, smoothed by the relentless caress of the ocean waves. He picked up the bottle and held it, he had strong memories of the sea, standing on beaches, wind with the ocean’s salty tang, lightning crashing on dark water. He breathed in and out, “I need to keep this.”

Finnegan looked up at him in surprise, “Aren’t we going to keep all of this?”

“I’d assumed we would sell most, do you need rare cutlery?”

Eliza laughed, “I don’t think any of us need rare cutlery.”

“What about the books?” Gilgamesh asked.

Dellen picked up the old tomes and looked at the spines, many of them had letters in peeled gilt. They looked like family histories, and maybe private journals. “I wonder how recent this crash was.”

“I saw a name on the hull,” Finnegan said, “The Swallow.”

“I’m not sure that helps us date the crash,” Dellen mused, “If it was too recent, all of this might be contraband if sold in the wrong city, and anything we learn in the journals might be too private. I wouldn’t feel comfortable selling a journal if I knew the writer was still alive.”

“You could certainly sell it in Copperopolis,” Gilgamesh said.

“I wonder if any parts of the engines survived,” Finnegan said, “Maybe there’s something we could learn from them.”

“I doubt it,” Dellen said, “Even if there was something to be learned from The Swallow, between the crash and the elements I wouldn’t expect the engines to have kept secrets worth sharing.”

“So,” Finnegan said, “What do we do now?”

Dellen shrugged, “Carry the salvage back to The Phoenix’s Flight and continue on our way.”

“What about Captain Tiffin?”

“She’s the captain, you found this while on her ship, I don’t know what the convention is, but I imagine that she has rights to at least a quarter.”

“A quarter?” Finnegan demanded, “She’s not here, and her crew haven’t even helped us!”

“A quarter,” Dellen said, his voice firm and unyielding, “At least a quarter. We’re a long way from home. You do not want to be on the wrong side of the temper of the only captain we know.”

Finnegan looked about the cramped little cabin and at all that he had found, “Fine.”

Together they found a few crates sturdy enough to hold the contents of the hidden cabin and walked it back to The Phoenix’s Flight under the watchful eye of Aurora.

“I like it when passengers bring salvage aboard. Almost makes up for you forging with my coins,” Aurora noted.

“Some might argue that you should have paid me for that,” Dellen replied, “I did catch a lightning bolt and help keep the ship afloat in the storm,” he gaged Aurora’s opinion of that answer and continued a little faster, “Not me of course, I understand your position, and agree, I will replace that silver.”

Captain Aurora nodded her head, “Yes you will, Northcote, yes you will.” She looked away from him and The Swallow in the direction they had been headed, “We’ve tarried here long enough, salvage is all very good, but we have a fleet to catch.”

Dellen grimaced, he knew that while he rested, the fleet would have suffered at the hands of the pirates. “As you say, let’s be on our way.”

According to the freshly wound watches, they found the shattered hull of an Aetheric Cultivator airship forty-seven minutes later.