A giggle slipped past her lips at the response as she nodded her understanding. She may appear to be in her element at present, butAgnès knew that she would be dusting sand off herself for a good while after leaving the dunes behind. Even now she could feel the telltale grit settle in her hair and burrow its way into the folds of her clothes. Sand was in short, a natural annoyance. “If it is any consolation, no one is truly fond of the sand, not even those born within the heart of the dunes.”
Her gaze focused ahead, to the village growing closer on the horizon as they wended through the smaller dunes. As much as Agnès wished to marvel at the towering airship chassis as they passed by, duty came first–especially with the fate of the world resting upon their shoulders. She only prayed that there would be another chance to witness this site once their duty was completed.
The pair arrived at the gates, and the cacophony of civilization reached their ears. Hammers banging on wood and metal, and hot steam whistling from pipes and chutes; the sounds so loud that it drowned out the whistling of the harsh winds. Speaking of which, Agnès noticed how the harsh winds tapered significantly the closer they neared the heart of the village. The buildings must also serve as an artificial buffer against the unpredictable desert wind.
Good thing too. Agnès dusted herself off and straightened her hair as the pair walked, and felt the grit accumulate underneath her touch. There was residual sand left behind, of course, but she would endure the temporary discomfort if it meant reaching their shared goal for the future.
“Ser Takka…” She repeated, her attention moving to the far side of the village. Hope fluttered briefly in her heart, realizing that they were another step closer. From the sound of it, Ingus was well acquainted with the man, so there was a good chance he would hear them out through familiarity. Still…she didn’t wish to place all her hopes on assumption alone.
“Are you sure he will not mind us borrowing his airship for this matter?” She then asked upon glancing to Ingus, apprehension weaving in her words and settling upon her countenance. “While I know it will be important to explain our reasons why, I don’t wish for him to think we are exaggerating our predicament. Especially since we do not have tangible proof to show in turn…”
— ☩ “After the wake of the flood, the business for aircraft sprang—in starry heights, mind. Ser Cid, the preeminent shipwain of the floating continent, lives just to the southwest. He often collaborates with the blacksmiths here, in Kazus—and the only reason why some airship parts are placed here, near the desert, is because the tiny town of Canaan could not host any more. Lest Bahamut catch these chassis in their territory and pluck them for twigs in their nest...”
Ingus paused, shook his head, and crossed his arms.
“Erm. Sorry. I mean to say that there are many airships for use now, to our luck. I believe Ser Takka would not mind us borrowing one, on the assurance that we return the vessel in one piece. If he asks us what for...we can tell him that we need to go check on the crystals. Or mayhap that is too forthright? We could omit the details about the crystals for now, so as not to spark suspicion nor incite fear...”
Ingus unrolled the rest of his sleeves, looking towards the smithy.
“Come, we won’t be long.”
After a short exchange of words, and with much hammering and clanking in between, Takka gave them the key to an airship—or keys more like, as there were an assortment of small and large ones hooped around the main ring.
“We needn’t travel too far, the airship would be just beyond the gates of the village. Would you prefer to helm the ship, or shall I?”
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