The cloud-sea of Skypiea had been her playground, her field of experimentation – one she never would have guessed existed only a year before.
She rose early on the third day after the Ark.
She made her way to the upper deck of the Going Merry and saw her ship resting amidst the airy cloud-sea of the Angel Island harbor.
The pale glow of the rising sun illuminated the vessel differently than usual, and she began preparing her measuring equipment.
A plank had been placed between two boxes; her logbook lay open on it; her sextant, the barometer she now carried everywhere and a set of small tubes, which had been gifted to her by a Shandian scientist in exchange for a map she had drawn the previous day – they were all ready for use.
The tubes, it had been explained to her, would help measure local differences in pressure with an accuracy unachievable on land.
She had been waiting for this moment.
Kael appeared on the deck some time later.
No words came from his lips.
No assistance did he offer.
He sat down next to her, back resting against the railings, leaving Sage Mode dormant in the background of his mind, and watched her.
She let him watch.
That morning she mapped the upper atmosphere of the cloud-sea.
This high up the clouds behaved differently from those on the surface level.
They had a three-dimensional nature that escaped the lower ones.
Several layers could be distinguished.
They differed both in composition and in wind directions, each layer having stable patterns of air movement lasting for several hours.
The boundaries between them represented regions of turbulent air that could easily be determined using the small fluted tubes she had been shown recently.
She started recording.
In her former occupation she had been a navigator.
Now, as she examined the cloud-sea, she sensed herself growing into the role of a meteorologist.
It was a transformation she had been expecting for some time.
After about an hour passed, she jumped off the floor and looked directly into Kael’s eyes.
“Have you seen what I’m seeing?”
“Tell me what it is you see.”
“Three layers between this deck and the cloud-cliff to the east of us.
Each one stable for several hours.
Patterns of wind movements which aren’t chaotic but follow certain rules.
Every single layer has its own schedule.”
“On the surface level weather is one thing.
Here, in the upper skies, weather is a series of layers, with each one obeying its own set of rules.”
“You’ve let me figure it out on my own.”
“It’s always better that way.”
She scrutinized him carefully.
Some sort of words seemed to come to her mind.
She did not speak them though.
She turned back to her logbook.
Work continued throughout the morning.
He sat quietly against the rail.
Around noon Sanji appeared, bearing bread, cheese and water.
He placed everything before her, gave Kael a brief nod and went away.
The cheese was excellent.
She filled five pages with notes during the morning session.
These were no longer related to navigation anymore.
Instead, she outlined the basics of the model of Skypiea’s climate.
Work, she realized, would continue indefinitely.
It would eventually lead her to writing an entire book – though not a guide for navigating these skies.
Closing the logbook and resting hands on top of it, she said:
“How long have you been silent.”
“Not long.”
“How tired are you.
Truly.”
He thought for a while.
“Tired.”
“From holding the sky.”
“Tired from it and from a few other things.”
“From what else.”
Again he paused a bit.
“From not talking about the ones I miss.
From doing such a great work in front of people I wish to do my work around.
And from what lies ahead, a question that is still unanswered for me since I haven’t completed the required preliminary task which is the one I’m completing right now.”
“Yes.”
“Go to sleep.”
They met each other’s gaze.
It was unweighted, simply receiving a question.
She nodded and turned back to the logbook.
Some time later she wrote another line.
He did not inquire what she had just written.
Neither had he ever since she had begun keeping her diary.
And in the past weeks she had started becoming thankful for it in a way she had not yet found words to express properly.
Closing the logbook, she rose and took up her instruments.
“I’m going for a walk.
I’ve heard that it’s possible to walk on the cloud without sinking through if you stay light.”
“It is.
The chakra of the cloud responds to intent.
If your intent is light enough, the cloud will carry you.”
“Shall we.”
“We shall.”
Leaving her instruments on the deck, he left his orbs to their steady rotations.
They descended to the cloud-sea that lay right next to the hull of the Going Merry and stepped out of it together onto the cloud.
It held their weight.
First she moved and he followed her steps.
Together they crossed the cloud-sea towards the cloud-cliff to the east, marking the border of the island Pagaya.
The cloud felt soft underfoot, softer even than fresh-baked bread.
The day was bright and sunny.
The sunlight, she noticed, possessed some unique quality, different from the one of the surface world.
After some time she slowed her pace till he caught up to her.
She didn’t grab his hand.
He did not grasp hers either.
Instead, they walked over the cloud in this upper atmosphere of Skypiea, side by side, her shoulder brushing his every few seconds.
And that was enough.
For now, at least.