"I understand there was a quarrel of some sort on the deck," Admiral Anders Volant said as Eldin entered the bridge. The admiral, surrounded by a handful of the Ventus's sailors and officers--including the first mate Laurian Davenworth--was looking out of the great forward ports toward the horizon, hands clasped behind him. He did not turn around after his comment, so Eldin spoke to the man's large back. Somehow, it was almost just as intimidating as speaking to his front.

"Veric sabotaged the hunt," Eldin explained, "with his aggressive and reckless competitiveness. One of the rookies nearly fell beneath the clouds." At the mention of the clouds, he had to master his voice, lest the remnants of his earlier panic attack seep through. "I was lucky to be close enough to execute a rescue--though not half as lucky as Davir. When we returned to the ship, I confronted Veric about his actions, as befits the responsibilities of captain of the Windchasers."

It wasn't Admiral Anders who responded to this. Instead, his first mate Laurian interjected agrily. "Nonsense!" he said. "Whatever happened was no doubt an accident. My son is one of the finest Windchasers aboard the ship. He would certainly never jeopardize the hunt in such a way. You, however, Captain Eldin, act beyond your station in berating him. You--"

"Enough," Admiral Anders said. Though not spoken in a raised voice, that single word was enough to shatter Laurian's momentum. The first mate withered, as all did who found themselves disciplined by the admiral. "I understand the desire to defend your son, First Mate Laurian, but as the incident has only just occurred, we do not yet know the full facts. I will not have you making premature judgments for me.

"However," he continued, "First Mate Laurian does speak the truth, Captain Eldin. It is not your responsibility to personally reprimand the members of your team--it is your responsibility to capture windstones. I will see that the proper officer is informed of the incident and appropriate measures are taken."

Eldin, appalled at this casual indifference to what very well could have been a tragedy, took a step forward, shouting before he could restrain himself. "Davir could have died! You act as if a scrape is the worst thing that could have happened. Don't you care?"

At this outburst, the others in the room shifted in place, some muttering nervously to their neighbors. Nobody raised their voice to Admiral Anders. Laurian glared at Eldin, much in the manner his son was in the habit of doing. The admiral finally turned around, and Eldin nearly recoiled at the sight of the man's face. When he had expected to see fury, he instead witnessed a man who appeared in every way terribly ill. Huge purple circles hung from his eyes, as if sleep had abandoned him for days. His sun-tanned skin had lost much of the color in it, giving him an almost cadaverous appearance. The wrinkled lines on his aged face seemed deep as chasms.

"I care more than you can imagine," this husk of the admiral whispered. He then returned to a semblance of his usual deep, authoritative voice. "But there are concerns of far greater significance to occupy us." He turned around once again to stare out the ports at the sky beyond. He was silent for a long time, until, "The windstorms come less frequently than they used to," he said softly.

Eldin frowned. It didn't seem that way to him. For as long as he had been a Windchaser, they came between every two to five days.

"One hundred years ago," the admiral continued, "the windstorms blew daily. A hundred years before that, twice a day, and even more frequently before then. For the seven centuries that this ship has flown, humanity has always enjoyed a seemingly limitless supply of windstones with which to power the engines.

"But that is no longer so. Less than a century ago, our rate of windstone acquisition fell to match that of our consumption. It continued to drop, until now, with the windstorms appearing less frequently than ever, we must borrow more and more from our stockpile to keep the ship in flight."

When Eldin realized the direction of this explanation, his heart nearly ceased to beat. It was a miracle of will that he remained steady on his feet.

"At the rate that the windstorms are slowing down, the engineers calculate that we will exhaust our entire supply of windstones within just a few decades. If that were to happen, the ship..." He turned around now to face Eldin once again, but did not finish his sentence.

The ship would sink beneath the clouds, Eldin thought, horrified. He ran a suddenly sweaty hand through his hair anxiously. This is what was responsible for the admiral's appearance and behavior. He was burdened with the knowledge that his species will go extinct within a matter of decades, and it was his responsibility as admiral to avert the disaster. Compared to this, Davir's accident did seem somewhat trivial. Eldin felt a flush of guilt over his earlier outburst.

Admiral Anders continued. "I intend to send a small team west to investigate the source of the windstorms. If we learn where they come from, and perhaps why they come less frequently than they used to, we may be able to devise a solution.

"But how?" Eldin asked. "We can't approach much closer than this, right?"

One property of the windstones is that they bled energy as they traveled, leading to a decrease in the intensity of the windstorms they produced over their flight. Eventually, the winds became so weak that they could no longer keep the windstone in the air, at which point the stone dropped beneath the clouds. The problem with traveling closer to the source was this: When the windstones began their journey--wherever that was--the windstorms they produced were so powerful that as advanced as the Ventus was, it would be dangerous to sail near one--and the immense size of the storms and the swift rate that they traveled meant the crew would be hard-pressed to avoid them altogether. When the sinking of the ship meant an end to the species as a whole, it was far too risky to travel closer to the source of the windstones, and so, humanity had made it protocol to always maintain a fair distance, instead waiting for the storms to weaken enough to be safe to sail near.

"Indeed," Admiral Anders said. "It would be a terrible danger to take the ship farther into the storms, and so the Ventus herself cannot make the journey. However, the engineering team has devised a contraption that they tell me can be used to counteract much of the strength of the windstorms, allowing a vessel to sail closer toward the source. I say vessel, and not the Ventus, because the device is in a prototype stage, and as such, the effect can only be extended twenty meters or so, an area far too small for the ship. For that reason I have no choice but to send a small team in a transport shuttle to investigate the source of the windstones, and hopefully return with a discovery that can lead to the salvation of our people."

Realization struck Eldin then. "You want me to go," he said.

"I do. You're the best Windchaser we have. I don't know what you will encounter on your quest, but you are better attuned to the windstones than anyone else. I have no doubt your skill will be invaluable out there."

Eldin felt nervousness grip him. A mission to save the species. The entire fate of his people, all resting on his shoulders. His and... "You said a small team. Who else are you sending?"

"You will be accompanied by the engineer who invented the purewind stabilizer, as he has taken to calling it. He will know how to operate the device and perform any repairs needed during the voyage. Additionally, I will send an archivist from the ship's libraries to chronicle your journey and compose detailed reports of what you find. Our engineers and scientists on the Ventus will rely on her documentation to review your discoveries and contrive a solution to the catastrophe at hand."

Eldin nodded. "When do we leave?"

"I trust this morning will not be too soon?"

"Not at all," Eldin said. "We don't exactly have unlimited time."

"Indeed we don't," the admiral said gravely. "You and your companions will meet at the shuttle launch in two hours, where you will board and depart. You are dismissed."

Eldin performed the salute of the Ventus: a closed fist held close to the chest, then the raising of that fist skyward before spreading the fingers wide above the head. It symbolized the Ventus herself, ascending from the planet's surface seven centuries ago to ferry the last remnants of humanity to the skies, above the clouds and away from destruction.

Admiral Anders returned the salute, and Eldin turned to go. After a few paces, he heard the admiral say, "Winds protect you, Eldin."

"And you, Admiral," he replied without looking back. As he continued walking, he held a hand to his chest, right over the pocket containing the emergency windstone in his windsuit. He had no idea what he should expect to find at the source of the windstones, but whatever it was, he was determined to find a way to save his people.

Winds protect me, he thought to himself, echoing the blessing he had just exchanged with Admiral Anders. Hopefully I won't need their help.