Ibera knocked aside a blow and sent his assailant's blade crashing through the cabin window. Glass shards rained upon the two kids as chill wind roared through the space.
Cline perched on top of Ablee, pressing the Ambrosia to her mouth as she punched at his chest, "Cut it out, we're missing everything!"
On the deck, Whitepelt's companions pressed their advantage, slicing the ropes Karich's men hung from to send them plummeting toward Basi'Turrim below.
The aft-mast let out a terrible groan, cracking along the deep gash Whitepelt had placed in its side. Her blade sparked with each strike of the mast, tearing into the steel links within. Karich swung from his chain, letting it unravel from his hand, and brought his club down. A pressure wave broke off the resulting strike. Whitepelt fell back a pace before launching herself at Karich with a shoulder-check. It snapped his chain, sending the two drifting into the air.
In clashes between two so heavily fated, brothers-in-arms often came at a detriment. Free from the Notion's deck, the Ogre and the Lioness spun in a torrent of blows. Each rung sharper than the last. Wind whipped at their clothes. With each strike, Whitepelt altered her trajectory to chase Karich's rebounding form. He laughed amid the cacophony, "Deluded witch, you should join us!"
"I would never-" mid-parry, she pressed in close, slipped a palm to Karich's chest, and roared. His gravity reoriented, feet wheeled behind him, and he fell upward at breakneck speed. Whitepelt stole a glance back at the sideways ship clinging to its leyline. In a last-ditch effort, Karich swung the length of chain wrapped around his wrist, snapping it tight to Whitepelt's ankle, dragging her with him into the storm.
She reached for her feet, trying to untangle herself, but a yank of the chain pulled her back straight, "You're a joke, Lioness. Watch-Commander?" Spinning, he dragged her in closer, "That's as far as you'll follow ambition?"
She whirled her hook in a wide arc overhead, with each pass, its inscriptions glowed brighter, forge-hot orange, catching on the air's latent ley. A dim blue line grew within its crescent and caught, straining at the weight of the two hanging upside-down above it. Whitepelt's chest heaved as she fought Karich's mass, kicking at the chain around her ankle.
"With that honeycomb, it'd be simple; we wouldn't need a damn boat, just toss us to the top!" he tugged, the hook burned white, and shattered in a blinding flash, its fragments tearing deep into Whitepelt's palm. As the two rose higher, a tumultuous whine and snap signalled the breaking of the aft mast.
"Your kids!" Whitepelt screamed, placing her blood-wet palm to her throat and willing herself in that direction, but Karich's opposing heft held them in place.
"I'll fetch them when we're done."
The Notion Unbidden's aft dropped back into the sideways pull of Whitepelt's gravity, and the strain tore the bow mast's chain through it and deep into the bow. The storm front rolled over them, plunging the ship into wet darkness.
Cline fought back tears and slapped his sister across the jaw, "Damnit Ablee!" She opened her mouth in shock to rebuke him, and he smashed the Ambrosia into it. Without thinking, she tore her teeth into its waxy flesh.
"Mmmf!" Its liquid contents spilled into her mouth and ran down her cheeks. Her eyes went wide, and she sputtered in an agonizing moment. It burned like the sun and tasted like the Brightbloom Festival. Then he grabbed her chin and pushed it shut, fingers sliding across the rapidly dimming oily fluid.
Ablee flailed her arms against him, rolling onto her side. "Pffft~You bastard!", she coughed, "Just you wait..."
He climbed off her onto the scattered glass as thunder drummed and the ship shuddered, its one remaining hook growing brighter and brighter. Setting his back to the cabin's ceiling, Cline shouted, "Dad!"
His voice caught Whitepelt's ear as she rounded on the Ogre, attempting to land a palm and halt his ascent. "They're going to crash. That means nothing to you?"
They couldn't see each other in the black expanse, and instead let instinct guide their strikes and parries. She tried to cut the chain multiple times, only to have Karich whip it wide or fling her back, threatening the space she needed with his club. As their distance from the Notion grew, his voice held its gravel, "We both know the role you played in this. Besides, the boy's eaten the thing, you'd wear his blood one way or the other."
Whitepelt connected the dots, and her jaw went slack. "You fed him Ambrosia?"
"To survive the fall," he wound in another loop of chain, drawing her closer, "What's it worth to you, prowling the Tower's base? You thought you could do it clean?"
She went silent, then dared to ask, "What about the girl?"
"The mutineer? If she can't forestall a shipwreck-"
"You'd let her die?!"
"She's of tougher gristle than my own, ill-fated spawn. The ground would spit her out."
Rain-streaked wind buffeted them. Whitepelt's assault stalled, "Release me, and I'll see them down safe, past the doctrinal border."
"Hypocrite," Karich spat, "This time you have a choice. Keep to your path and you'll face worse decisions."
He looped the chain tighter and said, "Reorient me, Towerward and up, you know the direction. Then I'll set you free."
His club caught her scimitar and maneuvered it out wide, "I expect to see you up there, once you've come to your senses."
Giving no response, she placed a hand on his shoulder, and Karich spun, chuckling, "That'll do it."
The chain rolled off his wrist as Whitepelt turned and dove, speeding toward the Notion. Ablee climbed her way up the backs of chairs and the table's edge, gazing down into the dark through the cabin window.
"Amazing..."
"Back inside-" Ibera said, hanging from his rope outside the window, watching as the forehook grew hotter before quitting in a shattering burst that sent the ship tumbling.
The ship's sudden backward force pulled it free of the girl. She flailed, slipping past as Ibera dropped his blade and reached too late.
Deck ripped past her as she tumbled through the air, wind licking her eyes. She shouted, "Ambrosia, activate!" to no effect.
"Now, Ambrosia, rainbow wings!" No rainbow wings appeared; the world was dark, thunderflashes illuminating the clouds. Her arm yanked behind her, and she turned in her fall, coming face to face with the white-haired woman. A second pulse rippled through them, an internal acknowledgement of their now-shared heresy.
"Whitepelt!" A toothy grin spread across her face. "How do I turn this thing on?"
The Lioness paused, reassessing the situation, then looked back to the Notion's shrinking silhouette. She placed her palm to Ablee's chest, and said "Wait for me where you land," before letting go.
"Wait!" Ablee shouted as Whitepelt passed into the dark. The girl slipped free of the clouds, taking in the lights of Basi'Turrim passing by below. Her clothes were drenched, and she shivered in the chill night air.
City turned to dark woods, ancient tall treetops highlighted in moonlight. A range of mountains grew taller in the distance, the Pridejaw. Her flight's point of termination was its fang, upthrust and approaching fast. She braced herself, racing towards a rocky ledge along its side, heart hammering.
Instead of sliding scraped along its surface, her body skipped like a stone toward the cliff-face. Upon collision, she plunged deep into wet stone soup. It filled her lungs, slowed but didn't stop her, and she came sputtering out of the mountain's opposite side, "The hell?! Hello!?" Thick liquid rock coated her. She felt dull, cold, wiping eyes that couldn't feel with deadened, rough fingers.
"Ha... Haha! I'm a golem~!"