Upon Our Seas, In Our Skies: Voyages of the HMS Javelin

This story is part of the Upon Our Seas, In Our Skies collaboration of stories, poetry and art set in the universe of The Môrdreigiau Chronicles. If you’d like to participate, follow this link for details and lore. You will be able to read all of the submissions here.

Just for a brief moment, close your eyes.

Feel that brisk chill in the air? A spray of water from the sea, before you rise up to touch the clouds. There’s the sound of waxed canvas creaking as the gas envelope fills to the brim. A pop as the wind catches the sails, pulling the ship forward. Wood creaking in the deck beneath your feet.

You’re moving—no, sailing—between cloudbanks as if charting a course to new undiscovered countries…

Only to hear a peal of thunder, feel a blast of smoke, realizing it may be pirates, or much, much worse—if you’re lucky.

These are the logs of the hospital Aetheric Dirigible, the HMS Dawn Javelin. First of her class, she sets sail along the skies to help the infirm, sick, and giving aid to those in need.

Where the Blood Calls

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Blood Might Be Thicker Than Water, But Her Past Could Drown Them All

On the maiden flight of the Aetheric Dirigible, HMS Dawn Javelin, the crew responds to a cry for help from a Scottish fishing village.

Little did they know it wasn’t a simple mission of mercy.

As the Javelin’s captain and landing party are trapped in the village below, Dr. Rebekah Verity Thorne faces a dire challenge in the sky. A tragedy from her past rises from the clouds to threaten ship and crew, testing loyalties, honor, and ingenuity.

In the end, it wasn’t a rescue—but a reckoning.

Where the Blood Calls of Upon Our Seas, In Our Skies is a work of pure, unashamed fiction. In truth, when its not fending off pirates, problems, and perils, it’s rather thoughtful and contemplative. Often, it enjoys a good book by a fireplace with a fresh cup of tea. Names of characters, places, events, organizations and locations are all creations of the author’s imagination for this fictitious setting. So the blame really lies at his feet.

In fact, it could be said any resemblance to persons living, dead, or washed ashore is coincidental—if not pure flummery. The opinions expressed are those of the characters and should not be confused with the author’s, since the characters and the author are apt to argue like cats fighting over cream. Often.