The voyage at last had begun, and the tridents now sailed across the hell's ocean. Soaring through the skies at an incredible speed, even faster than known dragons, they made more progress in hours than most ships could make in weeks. However, the speed gave way to some tremble under the occupant's feet. And some were either already sick or struggling to rest or find their footing. Floating in the air was one thing, and standing on a platform soaring through the air was something else entirely.
Even Linkle was struggling, and she'd spent most of her life soaring in the astral seas. The tridents may have been sturdy and efficient, but when set on voyage, they were anything but comfortable and liable to upset one's belly. But the few strong enough and with an iron stomach were leisurely cruising about with the view of the ocean visible through the window or the sound of the storms echoing in the background, with their backs comfortably resting on their beds.
