“Morus,” said the boy, finally managing to conquer his churning stomach a bit. He felt a flush of embarrassment on his face as the fae patted him on the shoulder, causing him to recoil slightly and rise slowly on unsteady feet. His toes dug into the cloud deck, steadying him just enough to stand at a slight angle. The boy managed to remove the hand from his shoulder with a graceless anxiety, and stare down at the dreamer who he’d intruded upon. He was startled to say the least, and Morus knew it wasn’t just his appearance that had brought about the feeling.

“I’m not sure what’s causing my body to betray me,” he whispered just quickly enough to get his words out before a roar of thunder interrupted him in the distance. There was a heat to the air around them, a warmth that seemed familiar, like that of a storm rolling in. “But I imagine that has something to do with it.”

Off in the distance from the starboard side of the cloudship came a sweeping black figure. It was a mockery of the cloud they stood on, made of black mist and three times the size. Its mighty bow looked like a massive maw filled with swirling teeth, and between flashes of lightning, the ship looked as if it had a pair of glowing eyes that stared right at them. It didn’t so much sail in the sky, as swim with a cruel purpose; and everywhere behind it seemed to darken and crackle with the same tempest it was made from. Morus looked around frantically for some way to steer the ship, but the squallcraft was coming at them at such a speed that he never stood a chance. He tried to brace himself for impact.

The cloudboat shook and cracked with neary a sound as it was split in two in the middle. Puffs of white mingled and turned into the hot black storm that seemed to consume it. The boy felt himself stumble to the portside, catching himself on the banister just in the nick of time before he fell. Below him he could see the lands below enveloping in flame, like a map whose edges came too close to a candle. He ran back to the fae, and grabbed him by his small hand.

“We need to get out of here,” he yelled. His earlier sickness seemed a distance memory in the chaos. Though there was no crack of the bow or gnashing of teeth, an uncomfortable hum grew steadily louder in the air around them. “I can manage something, but I need you to hang on.”

In front of him, at the head of the boat, a ripple of purple and azure began to flash in the air. The dreaming was unweaving before his very eyes, slowly at first, before widening to a portal just big enough for the two of them. The trip through would be rough, as the boy had never made it with a companion before, but there was no time to waste as their boat began to sink, both into the sky and into the darkening maw that consumed it. With one deep breath, he dragged the fae with him into his portal and away to some semblance of safety.