The sun had set beyond the horizon by the time Jonah left his room and returned to the deck.

It was a clear night sky, and the moon was on full display, casting a soft enough glow that lantern light was not needed. And like the clouds, the birds Jonah had spotted earlier were absent, having flocked to their homes for the night. Still, Jonah's hand went to the hilt of his sword, seeking comfort from the contoured leather that gripped his hand in return.

The land was close now, and it seemed every crew member was above the deck, eagerly waiting to pull up on its shore; Jonah even spotted Lenton, the cook who seldom left his galley. It was a sight that made him smile, though he felt a bittersweet tug in his heart, knowing he wouldn't see it again.

After taking a moment to master himself, Jonah looked away. He ignored the congregation that surrounded the viewing port and he ignored their waving as they called on him to join them, instead making his way towards the prow of the ship.

There, by the figurehead, he found the Helmsman, the Captain, and Delia, just as he left them. Jeremy was still absent, so he was likely still in the crow's nest, he supposed.

Jonah joined them in silence, watching into the distance as he so often did. A familiar action that caused his chest to tighten, the awareness that this would be his last time at the forefront of his mind, despite his best attempts at banishing the thought.

Futilely, he focused on the port. It was like most ports: The sea met a bed of sand, there were a handful of wooden docks, though they were empty of ships, and small floating pontoons were arranged in an orderly array for the more compact boats, such as the one Khaleel and his men owned.

Trees, slender and tall, clustered in groups of three, sparse and sporadic. When he looked at them from a distance, Jonah had thought the clusters were all one tree, but he could make them out individually now. They weren't like regular trees that he was familiar with. They were exotic; at their heads they had no apparent branches but long fronds that sagged in their self-weight, reminding him of the mop used to clean the deck.

And beyond the greeting dock and odd trees, the vast stretch of sand met a hulking cliff-face. It was a towering precipice, the landmark that helped them identify the land in the first place.

"I hope we don't have to climb all the way up there," Jonah said, gaining the attention of the trio.

The helmsman and captain both nodded in greeting to him, while Delia flashed him a small, knowing smile

"I don't see any stairs," Delia said.

"I don’t expect you to see anything from here,” Jonah said. “And if there aren’t any stairs, I don’t see how we’re going to get up there. Unless you think you can jump all the way up?"

"Elevators," Greg said. "No need to climb, walk or jump."

"Elevators? What’s an —"

Greg interrupted him by handing over a pair of binoculars to him. "Look there," he said, pointing into the distance. "It's easier to see it than describe it."

“Thanks,” he said quietly, before taking the instrument and placing it against his eyes.

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

"You see that big box over there?" Greg asked.

"Pa, he can't hear you," Delia said.

"Right, of course, I sometimes forget he can't. He’s become eerily good at lip readin’."

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

Jonah stared at an odd rectangle, recessed into the cliff-face wall. The cliff face itself was strange in its golden hue, but he ignored that, focusing on the bronze-looking structure. Two poles — no — four poles stood tall from the sandy base, interconnected by lines that formed an x-shaped pattern. And at the bottom of the edifice, was a much larger box. A big, blue box.

Jonah felt a tap on his shoulder and removed the binoculars from his eyes, turning to face the captain.

"Did you see that box?" he asked.

He nodded and gazed back towards it, though the distance made it difficult for him to discern where the structure even was.

“What do you reckon that is?” Greg asked.

“I’m guessing it’s not a police box,” Jonah said. The blue box resurfaced old memories of the strange stories he read as a child; they were stories of a time traveller in a blue police box.

Delia giggled at the suggestion, but Greg paid no attention and went on to answer his own question. "That's an elevator. You step inside, and it'll take you up," he said.

Jonah looked at the captain blankly, before turning his gaze to Delia, and back to the captain again.

“You’re not joking?” Jonah said.

“Why would I be jokin’?” Greg asked.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Why on earth would there be a floating box in the middle of nowhere?” Jonah said, turning to Delia for support. “A floating box. That sounds as real as the floating carpet story you used to read."

"It's not magic," Delia said, her eyes shimmering with excitement. “It’s not even scripts. It's just some good old-fashioned science.”

Jonah could sense her enthusiasm building as if she were about to burst with eagerness. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to ask about it.

"How does it work?" he asked, deigning to indulge her.

Her face lit up with a smile. "It's all pretty clever," she began, excitement ringing in her voice."There's a pulley, a counterweight, and a motor. And of course, there's a braking system. When you step into the box and press a button..." she continued, her mouthing moving with pace as she delved into the “genius” of how an elevator worked.

It surprised Jonah that Delia knew how the elevator functioned, given that it was the first time either of them had seen one, but he smiled and nodded along, pretending to understand. Most of it went over his head. No, it didn't enter his ears in the first place, he mused, his eyes creasing at his own joke.

"And that's how it works. I think. Although, I'm pretty sure I'm right. Aren't I Pa?"

The old man shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? I don't spend my days readin' books about ancient tech."

"It's really interesting stuff. If you don't like reading, you should at least listen to my explanations instead of talking to David,” she said. “Did you know that it all works without any scripts?!"

"I did actually,” Greg said. “It’s fascinatin' stuff Del, but I think I like my scripts better. They’re easier to understand. All you gotta do is power them, and then they get the job done."

She shook her head ruefully. "But do you understand scripts? You go to a scriber. You ask them for something and they deliver. They are the ones who understand the script," she said.

Greg raised an eyebrow at her. "Just because you don't understand scripts doesn' mean I don't, you know that right."

She opened her mouth to argue back, but froze, her eyes widening in surprise. "Wait, you understand scripts?!"

Jonah stifled a laugh at the sight of her stunned expression.

"If you're awakened, then you learn to appreciate scripts and runes," he said, a small smile playing on his lip, smug at her disbelief.

She gazed at him hungrily, the blue hue of her eyes glowing with eagerness.

"You'll learn," Greg said. "Eventually. Just not now."

"But—"

"But nothing. We're approaching land. Go get Jeremy, Shelby, Karl and Gavin. We need to get ready to depart."

"But whatever," she muttered to herself before turning to Jonah, playfully rolling her eyes. "I'll go get Karl and Gavin. Do you want to get the other two?" she asked

"Sure,” Jonah said. “Where are they?"

"I'm not sure where Gavin is, probably by the viewing port. Jeremy's where you left him." She gestured towards the crow's nest with her head. “Not sure who’s up there with him, though.”

"Thanks," he said, giving her a grateful smile. She nodded before walking off towards the gathered crowd, leaving him to his thoughts.

Jonah had been intending to speak with the second mate ever since his conversation with the captain — to invite him to join him on his journey — though he didn’t get much of a chance. Jeremy and the barrelman cooped themselves up in the crow's nest ever since word of the visible land spread, and Jonah wanted to limit the number of prying ears.

Rumours of him leaving would cause unnecessary trouble for the old man. The second mate leaving would cause trouble too, he conceded, but Jonah doubted Jeremey would accept his invitation.

Jeremy was a true sailor at heart, and as much as he complained about the sea or longed for land, Jonah guessed it would take him about a week before he would want to head back out to the waters. He enjoyed sailing and probably found peace in the monotonous routine.

Jeremy was different from Delia. She loved adventure and embraced change. She stayed on the ship, not because she loved the sea, or because it was her home, or because of her Pa, but because she loved travelling to different lands, seeing new things, and learning about oddities. Her passion for talking about the elevator was just another reminder of this. Still, it surprised Jonah how easily she accepted his invitation.

Unlike either of them, Jonahs attachment to the ship was the shipwright. The memories of crafting the beauty, the shipwright's final stand, and Jonah's promise to keep her safe. It was a promise Greg had released him from, and it was what made him decide his course of action.

"The Flightless Owl had sailed far enough," Greg had told him. "You've done your duty, son. To the ship, and to us."

"I want to be with her to the end," Jonah said.

Greg gave him a soft, sad smile in response.

"Aren't you going to sail it back to Askern?" Jonah asked.

"Now that I know where we are? No. I don't really understand how we made it to where we are, but we're here now," he said. "She won't be able to ferry us back."

The conversation replayed in Jonah's mind as he made his way to the Crow's nest. It wasn't a silent memory, he absently noted, the words from Greg’s mouth vivid and real.

“She’s done a lot for us,” Greg had said. “It feels fittin’ to let her rest here.”

“So you know where we are?” Jonah asked.

“Inia Telle. That's what the men called it, no?’’

“You know what I mean, Greg,” Jonah said.

"I know of the place, yes."

“And what do you know of the place?” Jonah had asked, playing the man's game. A game he was never going to win, now that he thought about it.

To Jonah's disappointment, the captain revealed very little about the location, aside from repeatedly warning of its inherent dangers and monsters that roamed the earth. He also never revealed how he knew, despite his persistent questioning. Instead, he somehow skillfully managed to navigate the conversation to other topics, focusing on Jonah.

Greg asked him about what he would do, now that he knew about the fact that the shipwright wasn't from Askern, but from here, wherever here was.

"He thought of you as a son, you know," Greg had said. "He didn't get to teach you everything he wanted, but he had plans for you. And I can tell you now, he wouldn' want you to be bound by a promise you made as a child, sitting in servitude to this broken bird."

"What would he want, then?" Jonah had asked quietly.

Greg just shrugged. "He would want you to figure that out yourself. To do what you want."

The words hit Jonah like a Kraken's flailing tentacle. Even now, replaying those words in his mind caused his heart to pace.

Eventually, Greg got up and walked away, leaving Jonah to grapple with the weight of his emotions and the memory of their departed friend.

Jonah had sat beside Greg quietly after that. He spent time in deep thought, contemplating what he wanted, and as the minutes ticked by, Greg busied himself with his other tasks, giving him space to grapple with the thought.

"I want to know more about the Shipwright," Jonah had finally said. "What's his name?"

Greg gave him a warm, inviting smile. "If that’s what you want, then you need to go find out."