The Harvest of Souls

CHAPTER 43

SOUTH SEA

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Fernand calculated that he had already been inside that Caravel for more than forty-eight hours. In this period, he crossed much of the globe from north to south and west to east. The last few minutes took the longest when finally, a vast black smoke screen began to appear on the horizon. A strange feeling invaded him. It was a mixture of relief and fear

Fernand pondered as he faced a vast dark smoke: the time had come to take a risk. He had never gone in there alone. It was the only totally independent territory in the world, following its own rules and a moral code totally different from the rest of the globe. The only way to get there was through nautical vessels or aircrafts capable of a water landing, previously announced and approved by the kingdom's ruler. Fernand was very close to the ruler in question, a longtime friend, and had already been there several times, but that day there was a risk of being attacked since his visit was unexpected and no one knew who would be in the Caravel. Fernand considered whether it would be wise to connect his MC to send the message but concluded that it was more likely to be tracked when connecting his MC to the net than to be shot by cannons as he approached the realm.

Fernand began to raise the tiller, making it land calmly in the sea. Entering with a Soaring Caravel in the air would be asking to be attacked. Fernand then adjusted the route to the north and began to follow towards the black cloud. As he approached the great black cloud, the bigger it got. Fernand looked up, estimating how many meters the smoke would be. He realized that it was considerably higher than the Crystal, could be over six thousand meters high from what he imagined, a shiver running through his body as the light began to fade, indicating that he was already starting to enter through the smoke.

When the darkness seemed to be complete, a lilac light began to appear in front of the Caravel. Fernand watched, smiling, as another red light and a third orange one appeared in the sky. He loved those artificial moons that lit up a barren land a few meters away. Pordelemor's three artificial moons magically floated a few thousand meters high, illuminating the small town built on a treeless islet. He slowed down even more and decided to let go of the Cross, as he had nicknamed the tiller. As soon as he did, the speed slowed down even more but continued in the same direction through inertia. Fernand then went out onto the deck of the Caravel and raised his arms aloft.

"C'est Fernand Louis, Je suis venu en demand d'asile. Nahan, Maedra, j'ai besoin de ton aide!" Fernand's voice echoed as if he were speaking into a microphone connected to several extremely powerful speakers around the islet.

Fernand returned to the captain cabin's interior and reduced the speed until the vessel came to a halt in the middle of the small waves. He went out again to the Caravel's deck and watched the island still a few hundred meters away.

"Please... please," he said softly, shaking his legs.

A few moments later, green fireworks cut through the sky and exploded over the city.

Fernand dropped to his knees in thanks as his eyes watered with happiness. He placed his hands on the wood deck and then kissed it happily. Fernand got up and went back to the captain's cabin, accelerating the Caravel and aiming at the small archaic harbor, nothing more than a pier, a few meters from an iron gate. The caravel continued to approach what was an entirely artificial construction, an almost perfect copy of a town and abbey north of the territory of Gallia about four hundred kilometers from Verslaseine.

Still a few meters from the pier, the Caravel came to a sudden stop. Fernand went out on the deck and saw that someone had gotten into a small launch and headed towards the caravel.