Lift Off!

John glued his eyes on the door as he heard the imp work. Tiny beeps from rapid button presses filled the confines of the ship as the imp started to get into a groove, whistling a janky, not all that pleasant to hear tune as he got a hang of the ship's controls.

First, the lights came back on. Then, the ship began to hum gently as fresh, cool air started to flow in from a few vents on the ceiling. Was this…air conditioning in a fantasy world? Well, guess it made sense for people to invent convenient technology with magic instead, because convenience was universal.

Then, finally, the metallic ground under John's claws rattled roughly, and he heard a muffled sputter from underneath.

"The engines are now online!" said the imp, sheer excitement lacing his voice. "Now, we are free!"

"Don't jinx it-," began John before, of course, the moment was jinxed.

Rough banging echoed from underneath, presumably where the entry hatch was. From the violent and erratic pattern of banging, John could pretty easily tell this was from an angry mystic grade being or three trying to get into their ship.

"Get the ship off the ground now!" said John. "They're here! And didn't you say that it took them more than an hour to get back!?"

"Hey now, I am not perfect. I make mistakes sometimes," said the imp as he continued to fiddle with the circular, sigil studded stone in front of him. The hum of the engines below crackled up to a definitive roar. "The engines require some time to heat up to channel their mana crystal cores properly. I estimate we will have to wait two to three minutes before we can safely leave."

"A mistake that might kill us!" said John. "Two to three minutes is more than enough time for those guys to break back in!"

"Relax," said the imp. "The doors are firmly locked. They will have to pry it open, and do you think they will break apart their precious Gravship? No, they will waste time attempting to have their dwarven Magiteknik Trace it open, and in Counter-Tracing, I am no slouch."

==

"Get it open, you fool!" said Datu to Pav.

The dwarf placed his Tracer stone on the Gravship's hatch. The Tracer was shaped as a rectangular screen comprised of Nullite, a black ore that could manipulate and alter magic and the main component of any Tracing kit, and he pressed on various lines of Magiscript on top of Eluf's shoulders, for the dwarf was too short to reach the hatch on his own.

"Faster! The engines are starting!" said Datu with panic as he paced around, looking up to see the grey metal of his ship rattling as the gravity engines heated up and prepared for liftoff.

Who could have done this? No, the answer was stupidly obvious. It was the imp. But how? How had the imp escaped his chains? That weakling of a creature?

No point thinking about that now. Datu looked up at the hatch with anxiously bit lip. If that ship took off now, then he was going to go broke. That Gravship was the only way the Ravagers could ever earn coin, and even then, the coin they earned was so little that the once crew of six had been reduced to three.

Gods, even paying to maintain the ship was bleeding them dry.

But in that ship, Datu had his life's fortune, no one hundred lifetimes worth of a fortune. The imp with his knowledge to the hidden Ice Queen's shard. And the dragon that they had been prepared to sell off just later today, because that was how incredibly valued dragons were in the black market.

"Get that hatch open in ten seconds or else you are fired!" shouted Datu.

"You fire me?" Pav chuckled. "I am only dwarf that takes low paying job like this, mostly because I am bored and want to sightsee. You think other dwarfs will help you? I am trying, captain, but my Tracing is countered by another's Tracing."

Pav started to take a swig from the flask of liquor strung around his neck. Datu unsheathed his sword and sliced it off, pointing its edge to the dwarf. The metal flask hit the grassy ground with a thunk.

"Move aside," said Datu. "I do not need you. Eluf, put him down."

The Lupid Werefolk grunted and bent down, putting Pav back on the ground.

"What you going to do, eh?" said Pav as he adjusted his goggles and picked up his liquor flask. "Smash it open? You cannot afford repair for that, and broken hatch means the ship cannot fly properly."

"Smash it open," said Datu to Eluf. "ALL of our money making future is in there. The dragon and the imp, if I have to raze this entire world and travel it by foot to get to them, I will."

"Finally, time to smash!" said Eluf with a growl of glee. He reared back his muscled, grey furred arm, and enclosed his fist. The muscles around his forearm and fist coiled up and became highly visible, the veins starting to jut out.

The Lupid unleashed his punch, knocking a solid dent into the thick metal hatch and sending a rumbling rattle all over the ship.

==

"So…what did you just say, huh?" said John. A loud punch rattled through the ship, making the ground shake. "Huh? That they wouldn't try to break their way in?"

"Heh, they must truly be desperate," said the imp with cool attitude.

"How are you so calm!?" said John as another punch resonated from below. "Do you have another plan?"

"It is an ice demon trait. The calmness," said the imp. "As for a plan, no I do not have one. You are quite right. I think we are well and truly in trouble. But worry not, my young dragon friend, life only goes wrong to hold back a greater right later. We only have to hold out hope and push through the wrong."

The imp pressed another series of sigils on the stone control panel, and this time, the ship started to move, though the engines loosed a rattling, sputtering noise that did not sound healthy at all.

"I am lifting the ship up now. The engines are not warmed and stabilized, and I expect quite some damage to their integrity, but better us in the air now than dealing with those fools below," said the imp.

"Good idea," said John. "Get us in the air first, and if this piece of junk starts to break down. I'd rather take out chances with a crash than fighting three Mystic grades."

"It is done," said the imp as the ship started to hover now, a small feeling of weightlessness settling in John's stomach as the engines underneath fully started with an explosive burst that definitely sounded like it had broken something.

But finally, the ship was in the air, and John could see that one of triple panels of faint blue screens hovering in the air in front of the imp now showed the outer surroundings of the ship. The ground was growing smaller and smaller by the second, and as three tiny figures stared up at them.

But before long, they became almost invisible, swallowed up by the greater scenery of the forest around them and vast stretches of rolling farmland filled with crops of a kind that reminded John of corn. Tending to the fields, a few small collections of wooden buildings that reminded John of a typical medieval style fantasy village stood.

"Whew," said John as he slumped onto the cold metal floor of the ship, tucking his four legs underneath him. "That was close."

"A daring escape, heh. It has been long since I have needed to do such," said the imp. "Though I grow far too old for such antics. But I am afraid we are not in the clear yet."

The imp scrunched his wrinkled brows and forehead as his pale blue eyes stared at another of the three screens in front of him. This one projected a diagram of the ship's layout with some parts of it highlighted in blinking red.

These parts, John could guess were the hatch and the two engines.

"The dual gravity engines' mana crystal cores have cracked," said the imp. "They cannot catalyze the ship's fuel properly. We will have to land within the hour or risk the ship blowing up underneath us." The imp sighed. "Not enough time to reach the nearest Gate, unfortunately, and reaching it will be difficult for it is placed in the sky."

"That won't be a problem," said John. He knew right now, as a Whelp, his wings were too small to let him fly. They only let him glide. But as a Wyrmling, that would change. "Just give me some time."

"Time? Time for what?"

"You'll see," said John with a smile, though on his draconic face it looked quite menacing, like a baring of his fangs, lacking any of the usual expressiveness of the eyes a human face would have.

Regardless, John knew this: it was now time to evolve.