Who ever said there was nothing in the sky but cotton-candy shapes and hailstones the size of candy drops? At first, I thought this was going to be a dull cruise, where I’d spend my time pacing circles in my cabin or on deck. But in truth, the Sea of Clouds is like an ocean — with its suspended islands where you can make port — and I can’t say I dislike that. There are floating landmasses, levitating water bubbles, and plenty of new territories to explore. And after my recovery, I definitely had the travel itch. Still, the trips from island to island are dreadfully long — hence this journal. I don’t know how long I’ll keep it up (patience has never been my strong suit), but Sunisa told me it’s a good way to kill boredom. So I’m trying.

We’ve divided the sky into six distinct Quadrants, each with its own unique geological or topographical traits. From what I understand, studies suggest all these biomes were once part of a single archipelago, which gradually drifted apart due to the shifting winds. The Axiom are the ones studying it, using Aerolith dating to determine how these islands manage to fly — much like the Enosha peninsula back home. But given the altitude and spread of all these atolls, there are clearly far more than in Asgartha, and the Prospectors’ Guild isn’t about to let that opportunity slip away. That’s actually what most of my current assignments are about (sometimes with bird-tracking missions for the Muna) while I get back into shape: escorting Axiom miners as they prospect and dig into these islands’ depths.

That’s where I ran into Kojo, during one of his training sessions. It was great to see someone from my class I actually got along with, even if there was quite an age gap between us. Maybe that’s why I liked him — he didn’t show off too much. Anyway, this Quadrant is a climber’s and Altrunner’s paradise: tall rock pillars topped with grassy plateaus, scattered into loose colonies. These geological formations make for incredible cliff faces — perfect playgrounds for climbing enthusiasts — though they’re not of much practical interest. Still, this biome is one of the most stable, which is why the fleet uses these natural lookouts to anchor safely away from the Sea of Tumult or to hide from Leviathans. It’s kind of become our exploration hub, which suits me fine — lying on the grass atop those columns, taking in the scenery, is just amazing. Oh, and it’s also where the Muna let their herds graze, including those woollybacks they finally domesticated on the Screed.

Where I come from, some artisans use driftwood to make sculptures. The Rhodopian Quadrant reminds me of those, only on a much grander scale. Unlike the Illyrian Quadrant, this biome is far more exotic — almost tropical. These are islands made entirely of wood, probably with an Aerolith core, though not much ore, since wood is lighter than stone in normal conditions. Over time and through weathering, the bases of these islands have been hollowed out into wooden labyrinths. The upper layers, though, are covered in lush, invasive vegetation. Some plant species even grow long, prehensile vines that latch onto neighboring islets to spread. Because of this, many of these islets cluster together in tangled webs of roots and vegetal tethers. The Muna have petitioned for this Quadrant to be declared a nature preserve, mainly to protect the nesting bird colonies. In exchange, the high command asked them to study the strange and unknown plant species growing there — to see if any might prove useful to the Corps.

This is our odyssey’s main water resupply source. You’ve got to be careful though — some bubbles harbor fresh water, while others are rather salty — but really, they’re more than that. These are floating basins, gigantic aquariums, some several kilometers across. The largest ones even contain a rich aquatic ecosystem: plankton, algae, fish… swimming around like they’re in a bowl. The smaller ones are just rainwater reservoirs. Even though it’s not really my thing, you can “dive” into these bubbles — from above, below, or the sides — and inside, gravity doesn’t exist. One constant, though: in bubbles that host life, the corals always form a crust around a presumed Aerolith core. I was lucky enough to see Leviathans drinking from them or diving in just to cool off.

I can’t say much about this Quadrant, since the Yzmir have pretty much sealed it off. I’ve heard bits and pieces, though, from a few lucky Bravos who got permission to go there. Apparently, the Macedonian Quadrant is made up of bones or fossils of massive, long-extinct creatures. Some say it’s a Leviathan graveyard; others claim they’re ancient titans — beings born with the Tumult itself, before dying out. Rumor has it the Yzmir sorcerers conduct experiments there, or study elemental creatures that made their homes among those skeletons. But it seems the main reason for the embargo is a dangerous, unpredictable Leviathan — a territorial eel, from what people say. Personally, I picture something like Annoba, though it’s said the Macedonian Leviathan has strange, vicious properties that make it especially treacherous.

Danger zone. No entry. Keep out. That’s basically the summary here. The Pelagonian Quadrant is naturally rich in Aerolith — a motherlode of antigravitational ore, and the Axiom want to mine as much as possible. But because the material is so unstable, that also means exothermic reactions and potential chain explosions. The Axiom have set up extensive operations here: drilling platforms, refining plants, transit depots for crystal storage… but they’re always on alert. Unlike the calm Illyrian Quadrant, Pelagonian airspace is in constant turmoil — floating clusters colliding and drifting. When two Aerolith veins rub together or crash, well… let’s just say sparks fly. What’s stranger is that the Axiom claim to have found remnants of ancient mining stations, with technology similar to what’s been uncovered in the Storhvit or the City of Scholars.

If an ancient civilization once lived across these archipelagos and mined Aerolith, then the Thessalian Quadrant must have been its agricultural zone — just like Caer Oorun was for Asgartha centuries ago. And like Caer Oorun, it’s long been abandoned. You don’t find the same tech ruins here as in Pelagonia, but the endless terraced rice fields — a recurring motif across the archipelago — and the obvious irrigation systems make it clear that agriculture was deeply rooted in this ecosystem. I flew over the area aboard an airship once — endless stepped fields reflecting the sky like mirrors. It felt peaceful, meditative… No wonder the Lyra from the Wayfarer and the Ouroboros asked to be stationed there. But from what I’ve heard since (which honestly appeals to me more), they quickly gave up their poetic pretensions for canyoning and trekking. Those sound much more like my kind of thing…

—Travel Journal of Sunniva Vaccarezza

P.S. Next time, Sun, keep your bright ideas to yourself!